#but most shows that depict what they call night terrors actually depict nightmares and it is ridiculous

[delusion-of-negation]

thanks to your post i discovered that nightmare disorder is a thing and i can now give my experiences a name (yay!), i thought i was the only one haunted by visions and demons.

yee, chronic nightmare disorder is a bitch, it can be co-morbid with ptsd but also a thing on its own or with other disorders, and it's the bane of my existence. the universe said "fuck your entire waking life", and chronic nightmare disorder said "and ye shall know no peace". I've had it my entire life - some of my earliest memories are nightmares, not my very earliest memory but I've been having them for as long as I remember and my family also remember me having them my whole life. I met a kid on the bus recently who told me he also doesn't sleep because his dreams always are horrible. it's a lot more common (and a lot more serious) than people think. it always pisses me off when shows want to make a character's nightmare sound serious so they call it a night terror, because nightmares are "just what kids get" and thus aren't serious (spoiler alert but they're serious for kids too, and night terrors are serious too), but nightmares and night terrors are different things - in a night terror you scream and flail and thrash about and stuff, but you wake up with no memory of doing so or of what you were thinking/dreaming at all, or very occasionally almost no memory of it (contrary to the misunderstandings of the writers of a particular show, that doesn't mean "some people always remember them clearly", because if you remember them consistently then you're having nightmares and just happen to also move in your sleep, what it means is anybody might occasionally have an individual night terror that they remember a teeny snippet of, the reason for this difference is that they happen in different sleep phases where memory is stored differently iirc), while nightmares are much less likely to result in as much movement while you're asleep, a little if you're prone to that otherwise, but nightmares are usually very vivid and you usually remember a lot more of them and clearly, in fact relatively often people struggle to "come back to reality" for a while (hence things like spending periods of time paranoid you're still asleep, or the time a family member of mine who also has it spent a while convinced their spouse had eaten our pet, because it happened in their nightmare). so when shows depict what is very clearly a nightmare, then call it a night terror to make it sound Grown Up and Serious, it bugs the hell out of me on every level, especially when they outright demean nightmares explicitly as "just scared kids" or whatever - it's wrong, it hurts kids struggling with this, it leads to adults with it not using the right language with doctors and/or shaming themselves and/or not even knowing it's A Thing, etc. so I am glad to have helped you find a name for the Visions and Demons, and I'm sorry to rant about the dumb people who don't have this issue and think it's silly childish shit and that we should just Grow Up and realise It's Just A Dream (gee whiz I wonder why the "vivid horrifying dreams, filled with agony, preying on your weaknesses" disorder makes "just a dream" not as comforting as it is to someone with "normal" dreams), so much so that they'll also misinform people on this and an equally serious disorder. then again, at least nightmares didn't become a meme like sleep paralysis, every time I'm lying awake frozen solid with my teeth crumbling painfully to bits in my mouth I'm like "damn sure is great that people know how serious and painful this condition is". sorry. I haven't taken my meds properly and I'm angry about everything. I'm as haunted by people not understanding that actually going through hell almost every time you fall asleep has Psychological Downsides, as I am by going through hell when I fall asleep, so us fucked up bitches gotta stick together and support each other, okay? your brain is a fucky bastard who is mean to you in ways you don't deserve, and anybody who acts like you're a pussy for being freaked out by the meat sack that knows all your weaknesses creating a torture universe for you can catch these hands. I'd fight the meat sack but that would hurt you so I can't.

[novantinuum]

Crack the Paragon, Chapter 11

Fandom: Steven Universe

Rating: Teen Audiences (I have upped the rating in consideration of sensitive topics I aim to depict later on.)

Words: 3000~

Summary: In another world, he doesn’t have his mother’s sword or shield to hide behind when Bismuth lands her strike. The bubble pops.

Steven falls apart.

Chapter summary: In which Lapis is a flight risk, and Steven begins to doubt himself.

You can find the AO3 link in the reblogs! (I have to omit them from the original post these days to ensure this will show up in the tags.) If you enjoyed this, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3 as well.

-

Chapter 10: Beta, Part 2

When your life has become a continually evolving string of heart pounding adventures linked together by the odd few days off, you quickly learn to fixate on the fine details no matter what the circumstance, as you never know when one of those details could be used to save everyone’s butts. Sure, it’s not like this outlook did him any favors back in the forge, but his point still stands: a Steven who isn’t constantly paying close attention to his surroundings is a Steven who can’t properly help his friends. If he’s not innately aware of everything around him, he can’t raise his shield in time. He won’t be able to pull the right tool out of his cheeseburger backpack. He can’t give a perfectly worded response to a soul in need. This is a non-negotiable fact, and the reality of what happened with Bismuth merely cements it ever more solid. Which is why— deep beyond the wandering disorientation of his current surface thoughts— he can’t help but wonder why he’s unable to pay attention to the details that actually matter right now. The individual threads of all his friends’ panic, confusion, and attempted explanation overlap and intertwine, weaving an audible tapestry of emotions. Their precise words, however, may as well have died in the wind. Mentally, he is not here. Instead, the fragmented remains of his focus choose to zero in on the wood grain pattern spread across every beam and board of the barn’s rustic infrastructure. Wholly enamored, his eyes trace a path between the dark ridges as if traversing a maze. Tree rings are super pretty, huh. He absolutely doesn’t give them the love and admiration they deserve. But as is evident from the slight musty smell and the dainty mushrooms beginning to sprout by the floor in one of the corners, some of the boards are beginning to rot. His mouth falls slightly ajar, and he stares at these fruiting bodies with such stubborn commitment that for a moment he forgets anything else was ever a priority. Have Peridot and Lapis noticed? Do they even know what wood rot is? Upon that thought, he frowns pensively, balling his fist at his chin. Hmm. Given their relative inexperience with Earth stuff, the most likely answer to that is no. He’ll have to call Dad about fixing the boards before this grows into an even bigger problem. It’d be awful if their home became unsafe to live in because he didn’t do his part to help. But then again... “What do you mean, none of you know why she did it? That just makes it worse!” “Lapis! Lapis, wait! They said she’s—“ “Let go of me!” she says, struggling in Peridot’s grasp, her water wings flaring outwards at the ready. “Don’t you get it? I can’t live here on Earth anymore, it’s not safe! None of us are safe!” Is he already too late?

Lapis’s impassioned cries continue to echo at the edge of his awareness— something paranoid about shapeshifted disguises, about the Diamonds— but his feet are still anchored to the boards below, his body all but stagnant in shock of the current maelstrom of emotions. And yet, it’s strange... while a sum of him dimly recognizes he’s still attached to reality, it’s almost as if he’s watching all of this from above himself, stuck as a passive observer to his failure. Helpless. ( C-cracked, I’m- I’m cracked, I’m split I, I can’t... feel... need... I-I need to —) Slimy tendrils of guilt slither around his heart. He wasn’t paying close enough attention to the mood. He wasn’t careful. He wasn’t convincing. He was scared that everyone would devolve into petty argument, and look what happened! He ran his mouth when he should’ve stayed silent. He caused his own nightmare. His family’s splintering apart once more, and it’s all his fault. “But it’s not like that,” Ruby hastily interjects, “I’m sure it’s not like that!” “Really? You’re seriously jumping to defend Rose, after all the lies she fed us?” Amethyst spits back. “N- no! I’m just saying, why would—“ The constant chirping chorus emanating from the birds of the nearby woods steals his fragmented focus next, and he can’t help the sense of relief that bubbles up from within as he willfully sinks into the distraction. The birds, their songs are beautiful. He wonders what they’re saying to each other... if they’re arguing about territory, warning friends about predators, or simply having a friendly conversation. Maybe his dad might be able to distinguish the difference. When he was still living in the van, they used to lay on that ratty old mattress side-by-side late at night, listening to the crashing tides and the distant squalls of birds picking at trashed food on the boardwalk. Because one of his relatives was big into birding when they were kids, Dad was always able to stake a reasonable guess on the species class based on call alone. And honestly, that’s a pretty amazing power to have. As he related earlier, it’s important to fixate on the fine details. Attention to detail can save lives. It can soften hearts. It can make or break friendships. But as he’s grown to fear, it can’t fix everything. He can’t fix everything. The blue Gem’s features twist with simmering fury. “Peridot, I told you to let me go!” she hollers, and in a single jerk rips herself away from the shorter Gem’s desperate embrace. Her wings swing like a whip behind her as her body follows the motion through. It’s enough of a shock to the system that his sense of awareness comes rushing back. He ducks, the water swishing right over his head. Something behind him snaps and clatters to the ground. Ruby presses a bejeweled hand to her face, muttering something he can’t distinguish. “‘Kay, I’m out,” Amethyst cuts in through the chaos, throwing her hands up. “Y’all are whack, this whole convo is whack, and I can’t deal with any of this right now.” Not wasting a single second, she tucks herself into a ball and super-speeds it out of the barn. Mouth caught in a tiny, helpless ‘o,’ Steven whisks around, only barely catching a glimpse of her retreat before he spots the damage. It’s one of Lapis’s morps, that wooden hanger displaying all the baseball paraphernalia. Now it lies rejected on the floorboards, one of the strings broken and the bat rolling towards Peridot’s feet. He watches, feeling lambasted with regret for his role in sparking this argument, as the green Gem’s face cripples much like the structural integrity of that meep-morp. She blinks away the threat of tears and quickly averts her gaze from the group, bending to pick up the bat before clutching it to her chest in a protective manner. The water Gem huffs and storms out of the barn as well, fists unyielding at her side. Heart pounding amidst all the uncertainty of this fraught situation, Steven scuttles after her. Come on, think! he snaps at himself, chewing pensively at his lip. There has to be a way he can still save this, a way he can stop his family from splintering apart yet again... “Lapis,” Ruby begins, delicately edging towards her. “No, stop,” she holds up a hand. Her expression— as nebulous and hard to ascertain as always— is caught at some weird nexus between blinding anger, terror, and... is that guilt he spies? “Stop talking! I’m not asking any of you to change my mind. I’m leaving, and all of you should be too!” Turning on her heels, she squares her stance and flares her wings to their full width in preparation for her flight. Just before those watery wings can beat downwards, propelling her lithe form away from his world forever, he leaps forward. Dares to grab her wrist. She sharply inhales, briefly tugging against him before she notices who the hand belongs to and falls slack in his hold. Static assails his mind as he assesses every angle of this jerk-moment decision. What on earth is he doing? (He can practically feel Ruby and Peridot’s anxious, curious gaze drilling into him from behind, and they’re not even in his line of sight. No matter what happens, this is all on him. No one else.) “I-I, um,” he stammers at first, desperately scouring his brain for the right words to say. “Please, I’m... You don’t have to be scared like this. I may have her gem, but I’m not her!” Lapis gives a shaky sigh. Her wings droop right along with her shoulders, the persistent burden of thousands of years of captivity evident within her posture. Waiting in the shadow of her silence, his focus falls on the gemstone adoring her back, that smooth, glossy teardrop. Golly, somehow it doesn’t feel that long ago at all that her gem was cracked, and— scared, angered, and confused— she lashed out in much a similar way. “I’ve always known you’re not your mom, Steven,” she says lowly, still not meeting his gaze. “This- this isn’t about that!” “Then... what is it about?” She growls in frustration, clenching her fists as she yanks her wrist away from his grip. “Have none of you been listening to me?” “Have you been listening to us?” Peridot mutters flatly from behind him.

Lapis shoots her a sour look, but continues, pacing across the grass as she speaks. “If one diamond was able to fool an entire empire into thinking she was a quartz for thousands of years,” she says, gesticulating to emphasize her words, “then- then how do we know the other Diamonds aren’t already here doing the same, already watching from a distance, just waiting to shatter us for everything we’ve done??” The sharpened words echo across the fields, familiar bird calls cut short as even nature falls silent in their sway. Steven stands motionless, her paranoia-tinted prophecy sinking in through his flesh despite all efforts otherwise, sowing roots in the darkest corners of his mind that he dare not peep into. When no one responds, the blue Gem exhales, lowering her face to the ground. “I’ve let my guard down too much here, I’ve let myself grow soft. I’m sorry, but I have to go.” He swears he hears a note of disappointment laced between the layers of her uneven breath, or perhaps it’s heartbreak. He can’t tell. Despite his usual aptitude at interpreting others’ feelings, Lapis is consistently hard to read. And it’s this very thought, this subtle dissonance from the expected in her intentions, that encourages him to reach out one last time. Her wings flare out again. Blood and hard light thrum at an almost dizzying pace through his parallel veins. It’s now or never.

“Lapis, wait!” he calls, palm open wide. “Please, please don’t leave! Not now, not like this.” Their world crystallizes into ice as he vies to meet her fears head on. There’s no sunlight, no bird calls, no wind, no Ruby and Peridot behind him. No more untimely distractions. Only Lapis, desperate and hurting amid the heart of the storm she created. She holds her wings taut, ready for flight, hovering at the edge of her metaphoric tower. Breath trembling, she glances behind. The sheer complexity of emotion Steven discovers in those sea blue irises almost makes his eyes water. Cautiously, he steps forward.

“Maybe you’re right,” he begins, fidgeting with his shirt’s bottom hemline. His fingers briefly brush against the edge of his gem as he does so, and he jerks them away in blind rebellion of this reminder. “Maybe this planet never will be completely safe. Maybe nothing ever goes to plan. But the Crystal Gems have survived this long because they stood together instead of breaking apart. A-and... I know you don’t think of yourself as a Crystal Gem,” he cuts in quickly with a placating gesture, noticing the question forming on her lips, “but please-! With everything else that’s happening, I really, really still want you in my life.”

Tightly, she wrings her fingers around her opposite arm, face dipping dolefully towards the soft soil squishing up between her bare toes. “Steven, I...” “I can’t promise you’ll be safe on Earth, but I can promise you won’t have to be alone,” he says, voice thick. “Please.” Stay, he mouths, his body nearly shaking in fear of how she’ll respond, of all the inner thoughts flooding through her mind he’ll never wholly decipher. Their gaze locks, souls laid bare to each other as they engage in a rapid-fire dialogue no other creature of this world will ever be privy to.

If you can't stay for yourself, he cries silently, can’t you stay for me?

The seconds are punctuated only by the reverberant tremor of his heartbeat, as he stands upon a precipice in wait of her pivotal, defining answer.

Eventually, her expression softens. She folds her wings, standing down.

“Fine,” she spits. “I’ll wait and see what happens... for now. But if I ever find out any of the Diamonds are inbound, or worse? I’m out of here.”

A stiff gust of wind rushes past, threading through her hair and causing her dress to undulate like mid-ocean waves. Shadow obscures her face.

“I’m not getting pulled into another war.” Giving no further explanation, she turns tail and storms past the tent, past the rickety fence bordering her and Peridot’s barn, and into the overgrown wildflower field beyond. Once she’s reached a far enough distance, she extends her wings and begins to fly, hastily disappearing beyond the tree-line. Everyone stares at the thick swath of forest she escaped to with dumbfounded shock at first, no one quite sure how to proceed after that bomb of a conversation stopper. Ruby mutters something under her breath, clear frustration coloring her voice. Behind him, he hears Peridot reverently set the bat down on the barn’s floor.

“I’m... gonna go find her, and help her calm down,” she says. Clutching her hands close to her chest, she passes him and Ruby and begins her long, flightless trek into the Beach City woods. Steven himself migrates towards the grassy patch beyond the pool, and falls to his knees amongst the dandelions growing there. Most of them are still flowering, their lithe golden yellow petals fanning out from the head. A few on a separate plant are white and puffy, though, ready to disperse seeds. He’s drawn to one in particular, a seedhead that’s already missing half of its progeny. Biologically, he knows it’s a good thing that those seeds have flown away and might get a chance to germinate elsewhere, but regardless the sight of this lonely, barren dandelion strikes a dour note. Was he wrong, asking Lapis to stay? Could she eventually heal and become happier, leaving the burden of this place? He swallows hard, gripping the balding seedhead between two fingers and decisively plucking it off the stem. A few more seeds blow off with the disturbance, their feathery parachutes falling into the arms of the wind.

Lapis...

What if his selfishness is only holding her back?

And then there’s Amethyst to worry about. There’s no point overextending the sad dandelion metaphor to fit her situation, because hers is something entirely unique. She’s still in his life, just emotionally closed-off. Bitter. Avoidant. Unfairly antagonistic to others. By inviting her out here he hoped she might take the opportunity to kick back and blow off some steam, but now, after watching her abruptly leave the group a few minutes ago, he’s worried this trip only succeeded in further stressing her out.

A gem adorned hand falls upon his shoulder then, pulling him to the present. With a startled yelp, he tosses the dandelion into the grass as he flinches away. His heart drums uncontrollably, so much so that his cheeks burn with embarrassment when it dawns on him who this hand belongs to. He sucks in a shaky breath to calm himself down before allowing himself to sink into her comfort, glancing behind to meet Ruby’s tired, kind eyes. “Hey. Are you okay?” she asks. His tongue suddenly feeling as limp and dry as all the fallen leaves beginning to sprinkle the ground, he nods his head yes. In an overt betrayal of his response, his big, stupid, puffy eyes begin to water. Hurriedly, he wipes the burgeoning tears away with the butt of his palm. Frustration bubbles at his core. Since when was he such a crybaby? He’s cried far too much lately, and he’s sick of it. He rubs harder as the tears begin to fall anyways, his bottom lip quivering as he vies with every last ounce of control he still has to not look entirely pathetic. The skin around his eyes, sensitive and raw, begins to sting from the friction. Wordlessly, Ruby wraps her hands around his wrists and leads them away from his face. His chest tightens. He fails to choke back a sob as she pulls him into her embrace, his own arms trapped between them. She buries her face into the crook of his neck, and it’s then that he realizes with a shock of surprise that she’s crying too. Her quiet tears dampen his collar; her fingers clutch at the back of his shirt. “You don’t have to pretend to be strong for us all the time,” she says softly. “I wanna be here for you too, okay? It’s just like you said... no matter what, we stand together.” “But I- I have to go find her,” he chokes out, the words sticking in his throat in the most pathetic manner. “Who, Lapis? Peridot‘s prolly fine handling her on her own.” “No, I mean Amethyst. I saw her run off, an, and she’s been so upset today, and...” “Steven,” she says, leaning away and gently lifting his chin so he can’t avoid her compassionate gaze. “You’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and honestly? A lot of it’s been our fault. You should take a moment to rest, okay?” Grinning, she ruffles his hair. “Enjoy the breeze! Climb a tree! Kick back for once. I’ll check on Amethyst this time.”

He hoarsely whispers an ‘okay’ as he sits back on his heels in the sun and watches her run off, allowing the wind to whip through his curls. Sighing, he splays his fingers just above the grass, allowing their tips to gently tickle his palm as they brush back and forth, and futilely tries to convince himself he’s cultivated enough good into the world today to deserve this break.

[alexeiadrae]

Sleep Paralysis, and What Makes Satisfying Horror

I starting re-watching The Haunting of Hill House today and got to The Bent Neck Lady episode. When I first saw this episode it completely creeped me out, and I am not easily spooked. Part of the reason I was so scared is because I get sleep paralysis, I developed it when I was a pre-teen and had it on and off throughout my life. The worst time was when I was working overnight shifts at a domestic violence shelter in grad school and had shift work disorder, which made the sleep paralysis more frequent and worse. It got better once I got a job with daytime hours and I’m now at the point where I rarely get it.

Before Hill House, I’d noticed some horror movies had tried, and failed, to recreate sleep paralysis. This led me to think about what made sleep paralysis so terrifying, and bottom line, it is the fact that you can’t move and act. And because this is so physical, I’d wondered if a movie or tv show could successfully recreate it. And then Hill House came. When I saw the first episode I suspected Nell had sleep paralysis, and it was because one of the things they’d done brilliantly was to use the artwork that has existed for centuries depicting sleep paralysis to show the Bent Neck Lady hovering over Nell as she slept on the couch.

The Bent Neck Lady is where the show really delivered. And re-watching it a second time, it still had a deep impact on me. Let me share some things about my experience with sleep paralysis first though.

I first had it at my grandparents’ house. I’d been traveling with them and we’d just returned to their house after traveling through several other states, and because of this I think my sleep patterns were a bit disturbed. Back then I used to sleep on my back (sleep paralysis more frequently happens in a supine position. Because of this, through the years I have trained myself to not sleep on my back), and I would become paralyzed and unable to move. It freaked me out, but I didn’t make a fuss or get help, it just wasn’t the type of kid I was. I made up the story of some ghost girl to scare my sister but I had no idea what had happened. Later when I was in junior high I woke up early, and when I was lying on my back trying to get back to sleep I became paralyzed and I saw a green light envelope the room and a fleet of black hooded figures surround my bed. In that moment I wondered if I was being abducted by aliens. I woke up, wondered what the heck was going on, moved back on my back...and it happened again. If I wasn’t sleeping on my back I was fine, but if I moved to my back it would happened again. Now, part of me thought it would be cool if it was aliens, but it also made no sense that they would abduct me multiple times a night every time I laid on my back. But at the time I had no explanation.

I didn’t say anything to my parents. I didn’t want them to think I was losing my grip on reality. I later found out what sleep paralysis was when I read Carl Sagan’s The Demon Haunted World.  It explained all about sleep paralysis and how people in European cultures used to interpret it as demons but now people interpret it as alien abductions. Once I’d read that I did talk to my parents about it because it had a harmless explanation, and both of them told me they get it as well. One of my mom’s sisters also gets it, so it runs in my family to say the least. I am definitely the one who has been the most affected by it.

Just because I had an explanation it did not make the episodes less scary. Because in the midst of an episode there is this real sense that I am going to die. And the kicker is that I don’t experience visual or auditory hallucinations most of the time. While I have experienced my fair share of them, most of the time I have one of two sensations, the less common one being this sense that right outside my door is a homicidal maniac who wants to kill me and if I don’t grab my phone and call the police and run he will, but I can’t move. But the most common feeling is this sense that I am suffocating and if I don’t move right then and there I will choke to death. But during one of those episodes I am so helpless I can’t even change the position I’m in in bed.

And that, good people, is what makes sleep paralysis so terrifying. You have no control of your body. You can’t lift a finger to help yourself. Even after all these years, after knowing that no one has choked to death during sleep paralysis, after knowing the feeling of suffocation is all in my mind, it feels so real in the moment that most of the time I still go into a full fledged panic when it happens as I tell myself repeatedly, “wiggle your big toe.”

If I can get my toe to move and focus EVERYTHING on getting my toe to move I can usually snap out of it. Sometimes it is easy. Other times it is hard. Being able to act and move is fundamental to keeping ourselves safe. And when you can’t, when you lose control of that, it is terrifying.

Because what if an emergency actually did happen while I was paralyzed, and I couldn’t act?

Which is why the death of Nell’s husband when she has an episode is so terrifying to me. The episode expertly broke down what makes sleep paralysis so scary, the loss of control, and then realized my worst fears as some who experiences sleep paralysis. And then added an extra layer of terror with that ending.

The Bent Neck Lady is the most terrifying horror shows I have seen and I think it will always remain so. It hits all the right spots and I am glad I chose to revisit it this Halloween season. The Haunting of Hill House is spot on all around and I can’t recommends it enough.

And now, here’s hoping I don’t have nightmares!

[sexycraisinthanos]

Therapy in the Netherworld

Just a little fic I wrote because I wanted Lydia to seriously get some therapy. Put it under a readmore because I don’t want it taking up dashboard space.

Words: 2,936

Warnings: mention of suicide

Rating: T, for mention of suicide and death, but other than that no graphic depictions of violence or stuff like that. Just a girl talking about her trauma

They sat in a circle, reading the Handbook. Adam and Barbara sat next to each other, reading silently while Delia, Charles, and Lydia sat across from them.

“Well I’ll be darned. They do have an undead therapist.” Adam said with a chuckle, turning the book to show Barbara.

“That could have been helpful a long time ago.”

“What could there possibly be a therapist for?” Lydia asked skeptically.

“It says,” Adam looked back at the page, adjusting his glasses, “that therapy services are offered for those struggling to cope with their deaths...not exactly the kind of therapist we need.”

“We don’t need a therapist.” Lydia crossed her arms. “Dad’s just freaking out because I had a nightmare.”

“The same nightmare for the last three months, Lydia. And it’s not just a nightmare, it’s a night terror.”

“Same thing.”

“Actually, night terrors are more extreme and mostly for children.” Delia corrected proudly.

“...Well yes. But Lydia you were sleepwalking. You almost walked off the roof.”

“...Well a regular therapist would be a better idea.”

“We just think it’d be best if you had a therapist you could talk to about...stuff without judgment.”

“And the Netherworld is your choice? Delia is a better choice.”

“Aw, thank you.”

Adam sighed and stood, still holding the book. “It doesn’t hurt to try. They’re the only ones who can understand what’s happened. Just try one session.”

Lydia scowled, but didn’t protest.

Adam pulled out a piece of chalk. “Okay, it says to draw a door and knock to the rhythm of...shave and a haircut. Huh, you don’t often hear people refer to it that way.” He drew on the wall and knocked.

A doorway appeared and the door cracked open, emitting pink smoke and glitter. They coughed, backing up.

Adam looked at the book, confused. “Did I do it right?”

Barbara slowly opened the door and more smoke wafted through the air and then dissipated.

When it cleared, they saw a messy office with papers strewn about and an empty old-fashioned chair with holes in the upholstery. 

“...Well it’s certainly the Netherworld.” Adam covered his nose. “Smells like it.”

Barbara carefully stepped inside and looked around. “Hello? Is anyone here?”

“There’s probably no one here. No one would want to go to therapy after they die.” Lydia said. 

A pile of garbage sat up, making indiscernible noises. The noises turned into yawning and pieces fell off, revealing a demon underneath. She stood up, dusting herself off. She straightened her coat and messed up her hair and looked at the open door. “Oh shit. Hi.”

“...Are you the therapist?” Adam asked, almost regretfully.

She looked around and clicked her tongue. “Well I’m the only one here, aren’t I?”

“We were expecting someone more...different I guess.”

“Why were you sleeping under garbage?” Lydia asked.

“You’re looking at a demon and you’re asking about using garbage as a blanket?”

Lydia blinked and shrugged. The demon cleared her throat. “Okay, so what can I do for you?”

“Well, we were hoping you could help Lydia.” Adam answered, motioning to Lydia.

“The vampire?”

“I’m a human.”

“I usually only deal with dead people. And the occasional undead.”

“What’s the difference?”

“Undead people suck. I should know, I am one.”

“Can you just try talking to Lydia?”

The demon sat at her desk, throwing stuff off of it. “Well sit down and tell me what’s going on.”

“There aren’t any-” The trio was pushed onto a set of magically appearing chairs and pulled close to the desk.

Charles and Delia went to go in, but the door shut in front of them and the demon crossed her hands over each other, trying to appear more professional, but only came off as slightly more unsettling than before. It did not help when she gave a smile. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

Adam and Barbara looked at Lydia, putting their hands on her shoulders. Lydia sighed. “I’ve been having trouble adjusting to...something that happened a few months ago. A demon showed up and caused a lot of trouble and they’re just worried about all these nightmares I’ve been having.”

Her eyes lit up. “Ooh, demons. This’ll be fun.”

“...They say I should get some professional help. So here we are. In the Netherworld, talking to a demon about my problems. Cause by another demon.”

“Well good news is I can help.”

“You can? That’s great!” Barbara smiled.

The demon nodded. “Now, you two are dead and since I’m sure you want to not be trapped in the Netherworld, I would suggest you two leave back through the door to your house. Lydia will be safe here while we talk.”

They stood hesitantly, looking at Lydia. “I’ll be fine.” She assured. Accepting that, they sighed and walked through the door.

Lydia yelped as the chair changed into a therapy couch and she was lying on her back. The demon sat across from her, sitting in a large loveseat, holding a notepad and pen with pink unicorn on it. “Okay, so my name is Gem and I’m the unofficial therapist of the Netherworld.”

“Gem?”

“Short for Geminorum.”

“Does every demon have a stupid name?”

“It’s a nickname. My real name’s Ashley, but I go by Gem because I’m both a treasure and a Gemini.”

“...I guess that tracks.”

“So, Lydia, tell me how it all started.”

Lydia took a breath. “Well it started when my mom died. She and I were really close. I went into a really bad depression and my dad moved to get away from our house because...well she died in our house and it was just a lot for him to handle. So we moved into this house that Adam and Barbara died in, so they haunt it. It sucked, but they’re nice. And then I found out that Dad was engaged to Delia, who was/is my life coach. So I tried to kill myself. It obviously didn’t go as planned.”

“How were you gonna kill yourself?”

“What?”

“How?”

“Uh, I was gonna jump off the roof.”

“Classic. Keep going. What happened next?”

“Well, then I met Beetlejuice.”

“Oh, I know him.”

“You do?”

“Yup. Tacky outfit, always singing, cute butt?”

“What?”

“So he was trying to get you to say his name, I’m assuming?”

“...Yeah. Saying he could help me get revenge on my dad. Of course I didn’t listen to him. At first. Then I had to. He scared my dad away and then I was trapped in my house because if I left there’d be a giant monster who’d kill me because I was an ‘honorary ghost’ or whatever. It was fun at first. No one around to tell us what to do. And then I tried to bring my mom back to life and then he turned into a grade A asshole! He tricked me into almost exorcising Barbara and forced me to agree to marry him.”

“Green card thing?”

“...Yeah.”

Gem snorted. “Classic.”

“Of course, I agreed to save Barbara. And then I stabbed him in the chest with Delia’s art.”

“Nice. Always kill creepy old men.” She held her fist up for a fist bump, but Lydia shook her head no. Gem pursed her lips and put her hand down.

“And then his mom tried to kill me because I had escaped into the Netherworld to go find my mom, but then I left before she could catch me. And then he fed her to a sand worm. That all happened months ago.”

“So what are your problems?”

“Night terrors, triggers, angry outbursts, abandonment issues...you know. The typical stuff.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“It’s nothing serious.”

“Humor me. Let’s start with the night terrors.”

“Well it just started out with me waking up screaming. I was having bad dreams about...well, him. Him and his stupid outfit. It’s always the wedding. I’m in the wedding dress, dancing to some distorted music. He’s smiling like this is the best thing in the world. I’m crying. Before I stab him, I wake up with everyone around me. Last week I started sleepwalking. I woke up, standing on the roof.”

“Do you think it’s him? Trying to get you to kill yourself so you’ll be stuck with him?”

She shook her head. “No. Not really. I don’t think he’s making me do it. It doesn’t feel like someone’s forcing me. It’s like a...natural reflex. Like a muscle memory. Like it’s telling me to meet him there.”

“Why would it tell you to meet him there?”

“Well, we met on the roof before I was going to kill myself.”

Gem hummed to herself, taking more notes. 

“I just gotta say that you’re very professional and probably the only demon I’ve met who didn’t immediately make me want to vomit.”

“Aw, thank you. I take my job very seriously. I know I look like a hot mess, but that’s only because I choose to. Not many jobs let you have pink hair.”

“Do all demons have weird colored hair?”

“Yeah. It’s part of the gimmick. So tell me about the triggers and angry outbursts you mentioned.”

Lydia sucked her teeth and sighed, curling up slightly. “I don’t know...it’s kind of stupid.”

“You know what’s stupid? I was considered one of the most feared women’s gang leaders in the 80′s. I got drunk, fell off a bridge, and now I’m a therapist. What’s not stupid is your trauma.”

She smiled a little. “Thanks...Okay...” Lydia took a breath. “My dad and step-mom were planning all the details for their wedding. I was in the living room, kind of listening and then I just...started crying and ran into my room. They decided to hold off on it until I was better.”

“Poor thing.” Gem said sympathetically. 

“I joined a stargazing club at school because in New York I never got to see stars that much. Of course, the first constellation we talked about was Orion.”

Gem nodded understandingly. “Second brightest star in the constellation is Betelgeuse.”

Lydia winced at the mention of the name and Gem tensed up. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize what I was saying...How about whenever we need to bring him up, we can just call him something else.”

“Like what?”

“Buttmunch?”

Lydia snorted. “That works.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, Bertha said...Buttmunch and I just froze up. She told her parents that I tackled her, telling her not to say it, but I don’t remember that.”

Gem hummed to herself. “It sounds like you have a case of PTSD.”

“PTSD?”

“Well from what you’ve told me, whatever he did traumatized you. Even if you don’t think it was that serious. You were depressed and suicidal, he showed up and made your life a living hell, you were forced to kill him, and what 12 year old needs to stab someone for forcing them to marry him, trapping her in her own house, scaring her dad away, and feeling like you’re obligated to hang out with him because he saved your life?”

“First off, I’m not 12. Second of all, he didn’t save my life.”

Gem looked at her clipboard. “Well, actually he did. You said he saved you from his mom.”

“Which she wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for him.”

“And you wouldn’t have been alive up to that point if it wasn’t for him.”

Lydia scoffed, crossing her arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You said you met him on the roof, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you were about to jump, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So what happened between you wanting to die and him scaring your dad away?”

“Well...he saw me about to jump and when he realized I could see him, he tried to get me to say his name. But he can’t say his name, which is dumb. Why can’t he say his name? Every other demon can say their name just fine.”

“It’s a thing that happens. If he could say his name, he’d always be saying it to give himself power and he’d never shut up. It really depends on the source material you’re working with.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Anyway, so what happened after that?”

“Well he told me that killing myself is stupid and I should try to get revenge on my dad. I told him to piss off and then I took his advice but had Barbara and Adam help me instead.”

“Poor choice, they look like they think ‘revenge’ is a fancy French dish. Now, from what you just told me, if he hadn’t shown up, you would have jumped, your life would have been over, and you would have been stuck doing civil work. Ergo, he saved your life.”

Lydia scowled, trying to think of a snarky response. 

“So?” 

“You just have a lot of confusing feelings. You want to be mad at him, which you have a right to be. But he did technically save your life. And you know you wouldn’t be here without him. So you’re also partially grateful for him.”

“What does this have to do with my nightmares?”

“Well you said yourself that your brain wanted you to meet him there.”

“That’s dumb. You’re not even a real therapist. Telling you all this won’t help. You won’t understand. None of them do! They just want me to get better, but they don’t know what it’s like! To not be able to sleep because you’re afraid that when you wake up, it’ll all be a dream and you’re still trapped in the house with him. Or that he came and killed my dad in the middle of the night as an act of revenge. Or hate yourself for trusting him in the first place. And I can’t even talk to them about it. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to them about it. They just wouldn’t get it...I guess that’s why they sent me here. Because you’re the only one who would get it.” Lydia wiped her eyes and sniffled. 

Gem sighed, setting the clipboard down. “Lydia.” She summoned a box of tissues and handed them to her. “You’re stressed, restless, you’re scared, you’re angry, you’re a kid who dealt with stuff no grown adult should have dealt with. You have too many thoughts going on now. So what’s going to help?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay...When was the last time you slept? Like actually slept.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Couple weeks ago...”

“Tell you what, you can stay here and sleep. It’s perfectly safe in here. Buttmunch won’t get you. You can sleep as long as you want since no one ever needs me. And we can talk whenever you want. That way you have someone who understands what you’re going through. Does that sound good?”

Lydia shrugged again, but this time with a smile. “I guess.”

“It’s not a permanent fix, but it’s a start. And if you have a night terror, I’ll be right here for you. I promise.”

“You do?”

“Of course. Demons have questionable morals, but we never break a promise. And if you ever do get stuck with him again and someone happened to have said his name three times, just say it three times again. That takes all his power away.”

“It does?”

“Well, it varies by which one you’re working with, but yeah. If you say his name three times, it gives him power, if you say it three more, it takes his power away. It’s like that shitty book series says. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. Or whatever. The less you say his name the more scared you are. So the more you say it, the less scary he becomes and the less power he has over you.”

“That actually makes sense.”

“I’m a pro at handling demon shit. Now, lie down and get some rest.”

Lydia nodded and adjusted herself, lying on her back. “I actually was wondering...what happened to him and his mom?”

“Hm?”

“Well, his mom got eaten by a sand worm and...well, I stabbed him. He went to the Netherworld.”

“Well, since Juno died, Miss Argentina is in charge. I’d let her boss me around...”

Lydia raised an eyebrow. 

“I mean Juno is technically still a demon, but sand worms take about 1,000 years to digest their food so she’s probably gonna be there for a while, so she’s listed as dead.”

“Whoa...I feel sorry for her...even if she did deserve it. What about him?”

Gem shrugged. “I haven’t really seen him around. He’s probably hiding from his responsibilities like normal.”

Lydia laughed a little. “Well, you seem relatively normal for a demon. What’s the deal?”

“I just talk to people daily. There are actually a LOT of people who don’t read the Handbook, and thank God/Satan for that. Do you know how many people die a day? 55 million. Only about 2% actually read the Handbook in its entirety, which is still over 1 million people, but holy shit is it hard to see 1 million people a year.”

Gem snapped her fingers and a blanket and pillow landed on Lydia.

Lydia grunted, grabbing the pillow off her face and scowling. “Hey!”

“Now get some sleep, kiddo. You need it.”

Lydia tucked the pillow under her head and wrapped herself in the blanket. 

It was surprisingly comfortable and devoid of any terrible smells. She smiled, pulling it close. “Thanks, Gem...”

“One step at a time.”

Lydia nodded and closed her eyes, dreaming about much nicer demons with stupid hair.

[thenightling]

Differences between The Sandman graphic novels and The Sandman audio drama

Besides the obvious fact that one version of the story is told with pictures and written text while the other is told as an audio play here are some of the actual differences between The Sandman graphic novels and The Sandman audio drama.  

This list does not contain every difference between the comics and audio drama but it contains all the ones I can recall over a month later after having listened to The Sandman audio drama.

At this point I have listened to the whole thing all the way through once, Sleep of the Just (Chapter 1) twice, Imperfect Hosts (Chapter 2) three times, and bits and pieces of the rest over again.   

As we proceed, know that each chapter of the audio drama usually correlates with an issue of the original Sandman comics.   

I do not mind most of these changes but I did feel that they were worth noting.  

1.  (This one was apparently a mistake). Though the importance of the binding circle was described in the audio drama, as was Alex’s wheelchair, the description of Alex’s wheel accidentally breaching the binding circle around Morpheus’ crystalline cage was not described in the audio drama.  This impacts the story in that either we are to just assume the circle was broken at some point “off camera”, lost its power at Roderick’s death, or never really was part of what was containing Morpheus at all.  As I am a bit of a purist I choose to pretend it just happened “off camera.”  I wish a little narration was inserted to correct this though. I’m being petty...

2.    At least twice in the first chapter of The Sandman audio drama we are told that Alexander Burgess and Paul McGuire are lovers.  In the original comic this was only heavily implied and not out-right confirmed until The Sandman: The Kindly ones.  This is definitely a positive change.  

3.   The Sandman audio drama quite specifically tells us that Doctor Destiny (John Dee) is actually the son of Roderick Burgess and not Ruthven Sykes.  Sykes is listed as his father on the DC Wikia.  I always had a suspicion that he and Alexander Burgess may have been brothers but thought my math was poor.

4.    The story that introduces Hob Gadling (Men of Good fortune, issue 13 of the comics) is moved to Chapter 10 of the audio drama. This is another change I actually appreciate as I happen to love this story and like that now it stands alone instead of interrupting The Doll’s House.  I never minded the interruption but now it seems to flow better.

5.   The story of Elemental Girl (Facades) is issue 20 of the comics but moved to chapter 19 instead so that the audio drama could end on A Midsummer Night’s Dream.  Personally I was never a big fan of Facades, it’s probably my least favorite stand-alone Sandman story but I love A Midsummer Night’s Dream and I think that’s a much better spot to end on.   This was the right decision, in my opinion.

6.   Small details are changed at The Serial Killer convention.  Nothing that changes the story too drastically but make it slightly more palatable to modern readers / listeners.     

7.  There is a new scene of one of The Corinthian’s victims realizing that none of them can see (and they are still quite alive) and The Corinthian announces that he is eating their eyeballs.  It is sincerely disturbing, perhaps more so than any of the original illustrations.

8.   The T. S. Elliot line “I will show you terror in a handful of dust” that was used on original 1988 advertisements for The Sandman gets used seamlessly in the story as early as the first issue.  Needless to say, I liked this.  

9.   Virtually no one directly calls Morpheus The Sandman in the audio drama.  This is a little odd but not necessarily bad.  He is called Lord Morpheus or Dream of The Endless.  In fact the original scene of Alex finding Morpheus listed in the Paginarum Fulvarum (Yellow Pages) is altered to accommodate this change of using Lord Morpheus and Dream of The Endless in place of some other titles. In that scene in the comics he was originally “Kinge of Dremes.”     

10.  Some accidental subtle changes to Death’s characterization.  Death comes off as more distracted while Morpheus is trying to tell her what he has just done and been through.  I realize this was partly to describe to the reader that she was picking a flower and playing with it but it unfortunately impacted how her personality came out. It was like she just didn’t care.  And Death, herself, takes over the narration, including some rather cruel sarcastic narration commentary during the scene where the stand-up comedian dies.  This is a bit of a criticism but sometimes changes like that influence how you see a character.  Also why did she sound slightly disgusted when Morpheus asked where they were going next and her reply was New Jersey?  It’s a common joke for those of us who were raised in New York but it doesn’t really fit Death.

11.  Between chapters 5 through 8 I could pretty much sense DC corporate overlords looming overhead and determining how certain canon characters must be described or not described.   Even in chapter 3 there is a change with John Constantine, a small one, but it’s there, nevertheless.   This is one scene that was changed for the audio drama.  The story ended with Morpheus agreeing to deal with Constantine’s nightmares for him in the comic but I guess since Constantine having nightmares became a thing in later comics by different writers they had to acknowledge that Morpheus couldn’t get rid of them forever somehow...     

12.   Morpheus is now given a little magick word to say when unlocking a door.  It’s used twice.  I believe it’s  "âpreté."  This is added for obvious reasons.

13.   This is one that bothers me a little bit.  Jed Walker’s foster parents are referred to as his “step parents.” This is a common mistake.  A step parent is someone who marries your biological or legal parent.  A foster family is not a step family.  Foster parents are often temporary and are paid by the government to look after the foster child.  Foster parents have not legally adopted the child.  Sometimes the lack of official adoption is solely because the birth parents are still alive and have not relinquished the rights as parents. Most foster parents do have good intentions.  Foster parents are often NOT evil abusers but much like the negative literary depictions of orphanages (which lead to America renaming most of them “Group homes” instead of actually improving the bad ones...) it has become a common trope in fiction writing.   

In misusing “Stepfather” I see this mistake often in comics, such as in Marvel where Odin has been called both Loki’s Foster Father and Step Father.   He’s Loki’s adoptive father.  Laufey wanted nothing to do with him. And Odin is not being paid by the government to look after him.  Nor has Odin married one of Loki’s birth parents.  He adopted him.  The distinction can be very important to many people.  

Similarly I got annoyed by the 1999 DVD and VHS re-release of Labyrinth because the back of the box called Toby Sarah’s step-brother.   Canonically Toby is her half-brother, not step-brother.  A half-brother means he is her brother by the genetic biology of one parent. A step-brother means he is her brother because his parent married her parent and there is no genetic connection.  It is an annoying and common mistake.  Yes, you can have a deep emotional bond with step-family but the terminology matters to many people.

  And there you go.  All the changes to The Sandman that I can recall from comic to audio drama.  Most are petty, some are good, some not so good.  But unlike the many articles claiming it’s a word for word transfer, I’m obsessive enough to have noticed the differences. 

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Wander

Today has been a day both online and offline. *Yeets out another comfort fic* 

Have a Zuko comforting a sleepwalking Azula.

It replays itself in her mind, an unrelenting stage show depicting her downfall in the most merciless ways. On some nights she dies and on others she suffers. Sometimes Zuko boils her alive and she can feel each inch of her skin burning away. Sometimes he sends redirected lightning into her chest where it erupts and her very heart explodes as he and Katara sneer and laugh. Other times she drowns, Katara never melts her block of ice and the water fills her lungs. She hates this the most, it is a long  and delayed way to die and Katara does it with pride while she does it with anxiety and dishonor. Rarely, but often enough for it to be noteworthy, she dreams of Katara holding water over her nose and mouth until she topples or of she and Zuko simply leaving her bound to the grate to starve out. She hates this nightmare more than the drowning dream. Because this one is longer; longer and she watches herself decay. Watches her body grow skinny and then impossibly gaunt. By dream logic she survives even when her skin begins to tighten over her skeleton. She lives until she is no more than just a skeleton, bunched up and forgotten.

This is the vision that plagues her tonight. That has her screaming and thrashing and eventually in tears.

The palace is so vast and the walls are so thick that her cries go unheard. And if the guard personal do care, they haven’t bothered to check on her. They are well aware that her mind has fled. That she is, allegedly, prone to crying and shaking fits and so it is best to just leave her to it.

But she doesn’t want to be alone. She is so, so tired.

The night after isn’t much better. This time her skin is burning away and when she springs up in bed, she can still feel the visages. A phantom fire that creeps over her arms. She wipes at her eyes. Her head is still cloudy with sleep as she hovers her legs over the side of the bed.

She is only half awake when she lets her feet finally touch the floor. She wanders into the hallway, with no particular aim in mind, other than a vague sense that she doesn’t want to be in bed right now. A vague sense that she needs to be doing something else.

She creeps into the kitchen and fixes herself a ludicrously early breakfast. But really she isn’t quite all there, not quite in the present, and what she fixes herself can hardly be called breakfast, more so it is a random collection of ingredients that go more or less with each other.  Preparing a meal and finishing it takes only a half an hour and she is back to where she had begun--creeping around in the dark. Though, now, the sky is beginning to lighten from black to the very deep blue of the first stage of sunrise.

She drags herself away from the kitchen and down the hall. No matter how far or where she wanders within the palace, that ominous sense of foreboding left by her dream continues to haunt and stalk her.

.oOo.

Zuko jolts awake and jerks a second time when he spies the figure looming all too close to his bed.

“Agni! Azula, what are you doing here!?” She simply stares at him with a sleepy blankness. He wonders if she is hearing him at all. “Hey,” he snaps twice in front of her face. She doesn’t seem to respond and he begins to register that she is sleepwalking.

He wonders if this is a first time occurrence or if it has been a habit for a while now; one that has gone unnoticed due to the sheer size of the palace. She certainly hasn’t wandered into his room before tonight. But she has picked up a habit of sleep talking so he can’t say that it is a stretch to find her sleepwalking too.

Her eyes, though open, are awfully distant and unseeing. Her head dips and he thinks that she might topple. Just in case he springs from the bed and holds her steady, though she still seems to be carrying her own weight. A few minutes pass and she doesn’t go slack so he moves his hands.

He doesn’t know if he should wake her or not. So instead he puts a gentle arm on her back, between her shoulder blades, and tries to guide her back in the direction of her room. “Come on.” He coaxes softly, “let’s get you back to your room.” But he can only move her a few steps before she halts and seems to plant her feet to the floor.

Zuko sighs. “Come on, Azula. It’s really early, you should be in bed.”

“No.” She mumbles. She doesn’t face him though. She shakes her head, “no.”

He isn’t even sure if she is talking to him at all. “Do you want to stay in here then?”

She begins to wander away from him, towards the door. Whatever track or task she has decided on abruptly comes to a close when she stumbles upon the pile of clothes that he and his servants have neglected to clean.

He doesn’t reach her on time and she lays in a heap on the floor. He cringes at the noisy thud her body makes. She lets out a rather sharp cry. He is thankful that he hadn’t approached her yet, for she reflexively punches flames out in front of her.

Zuko can’t help but laugh a little, “you did this one to yourself, there’s no one to throw fire at unless you want to take it up with my laundry.”

Azula shakes her head but the confusion doesn’t subside, he can see it in her eyes when she finally looks up at him. Her lower lip seems to tremble. Agni he hopes that she doesn’t cry again, he never knows how to handle that.

He thinks that vulnerable Azula is almost worse than antagonizing Azula. At least he knows how to handle antagonizing Azula, at least he is used to her.

.oOo.

She tries to collect herself. Tries to remember where she is at and how she has gotten here. She still isn’t entirely awake, only half so. “Zuko?” She mumbles.

“Yeah?” He asks. “Do you want to go back to your own room?”

She shakes her head. Right now, being in his insufferable company, is still much better than being in the company of her own aling mind. She likes this Zuko, the real Zuko, more than the one that tortures her in her dreamscape.

“Then what do you want to do?” He asks.

She leans herself against the bedpost. “I want to sleep.” She tries to be clear and consice but her words come out in a sleepy slur, something more akin to, “Iwannaslee.” She pauses. “But I can’t.”

Zuko nods. “It’s a little hard to sleep sitting up don’t you think.”

“It’s hard to sleep when you dream.” She thinks that she might be coming around, at least a little.

.oOo.

He thinks that he is beginning to put two and two together. She had never been prone to night terrors as a child--no, that was him--but he knows what they look like and he is almost certain that she is having them now. And while she may not have had night terrors as a child, she still had her share of vivid nightmares. He recalls letting her sleep in his bed with him and remembers her yanking the blankets from him in sleep. But her squishy and innocent sleeping face had made it worth it.

He helps her to her feet and tucks her back in. He doesn’t know where he is going to sleep but she is already dozing off once more.

“Maybe you’ll dream less in here.” He says more to himself than her.

Resigned to having given up his bed, he clears a space on his desk and begins working on some of the contracts and forms he has been handed.

He knows that she is sleeping once more when she begins her incoherent muttering. Little fragments of things that don’t quite make sense. But these things seem to draw happier coos and croons.

.oOo.

Azula wakes feeling disorienting. It takes her a moment to gather that she is in Zuko’s bed and not her own. She heaves herself up and scans the room. She finds him sitting at his desk, hunched over and snoozing with his quill still grasped between his fingers. She thinks of leaving his room before he can wake, but she sees him lift his head.

The scroll falls from his face, but the ink remains on his cheek. She almost laughs, she would have laughed if she wasn’t feeling so exhausted and somber. He follows the line of her sight and rubs his cheek, only smearing the caligraphy.

“Did you get any sleep?”

Azula nods, “I think so.”

Zuko gives her a soft smile. “That’s good. If you need to stay in here again, you can.”

Azula fixes her gaze on her hands which have come to clutch the blankets firmly. She still isn’t sure how to take or approach Zuko offering her support. Isn’t sure if she likes it or not. “I can’t even remember coming in here.” She admits, her voice sounds so small, even to her.

“You were sleepwalking.” He chuckles. “I almost pissed myself when I saw you standing over my bed.”

She manages a slight smile. “Glad I can still terrorize you when…” I’m being terrorized... “I’m asleep.” She leans back against the headrest. “Did I say anything to you?”

“Not really. You just said no when I asked you if you’d go back to your own room.”

“Oh.” She replies, taking a little relief in that she hasn’t babbled or cried about how afraid and anxious she is. Though it might to her well to talk about it. “Okay.”

“You hungry?” He asks.

She furrows her brows, “actually, not really.”

“Maybe you cooked yourself breakfast while you were wandering.” He jokes.

She can’t say for certain that it is a joke at all. “I hope that it tasted good then.”  The conversation finds its end and she doesn’t know how to or if she should start a new one.

So instead they dwell in silence until Zuko finally says, “if you’re having trouble sleeping you can stay in here or I can stay in your room. At least until you can tell me why you’re having trouble sleeping.”

Azula bites the inside of her cheek. “Alright.”  

“Alright, you want to stay here or alright, you’ll talk to me?”

“Both, I guess.” Truly she yearns for relief, so desperately that she is finally willing to sacrifice at least some pride. She supposes that it wouldn’t hurt to tell him at least a little of her dreams.

“Great!” He sounds much too chipper. But at least he isn’t mocking or snubbing her. “You can tell me a bit about it over breakfast?”

“Sure.” Azula nods. At least now she has a decent start. At least now she has a chance.

[franken-fan]

wanna tell us more about steven? i know the basics and i'm trying to do researches in details about his story in every album he's part of but i can't seem to find much :/

If this isn’t what you were looking for let me know! I can talk endlessly about this character!

I looked back at my first Steven info-dump and I already kind of did an album to album analysis (though it was very brief), but I guess I’ll go into more specific detail for each album and do a character study of sorts.

In brief, Steven is a recurring character created by Alice Cooper who is featured across many albums, some comics, and a full stage show. He is the main character of the concept album Welcome to My Nightmare, which is Cooper’s first solo album. Steven is essentially a personification of everyone’s child-like curiosity and sense of fear, in the form of a seven year old boy.

This is quite…..long. So I’m going to throw it under the cut. I’ve covered every piece of media that I can think of that Steven appears in. Not many pictures this time, but I’ve provided links where appropriate.

It should first be noted that there isn’t a ton of official, specific lore written about Steven. Everything comes from the albums, and as is with music, very open to interpretation (so my opinions are definitely not to be taken as fact). Cooper is a big fan of Kurt Vonnegut, and is often quoted as saying that the inspiration for a fluid, recurring character came from Vonnegut’s Kilgore Trout, who is similarly featured or mentioned in several of Vonnegut’s novels. Here is a link to a video of Cooper’s own take on Steven.

Summary: Steven is a man who experiences violent night terrors, and due to traumatic childhood experiences, spends much of his life stuck in the mindset of a young boy (approximately 7 or 8 years old). Most of his story is told through his nightmares, which are written out over the course of 4 concept albums, in which he is usually seen fighting against the devil. In a single track on the Hey Stoopid album, it is confirmed that Steven is in some sort of psychiatric care facility, and has been there for a majority of his life. Along Came a Spider follows the story of a serial killer named Spider, where Steven is specifically named in the epilogue at the end of the last song. It is stated that he has been in this hospital for 28 years, which means that Spider is another nightmare album. Steven faces his death in Nightmare 2, and is “officially” killed off at the end of the album. Steven is depicted as a very innocent, naive person who has a very black and white sense of morality (much like a child), but is still quite mischievous. It is clear that his abusive past has haunted him through the course of his whole life. He is a very dynamic character, and Cooper has put a lot of effort into developing him throughout his career, Despite his “death” at the end of Nightmare 2, I don’t entirely believe that he is done with the character either.

Welcome to My Nightmare (Album, Tour, Movie): The original Nightmare album follows Steven on a guided tour through Hell. In the album, the character Alice Cooper serves as Steven’s guide, while Vincent Price is featured as the Devil himself. The first half of the album occurs in Hell, where songs like Welcome to My Nightmare and Devil’s Food set up the premise of the tour. The album continues to progress through various scenes in Hell, very similar to circles of Hell as seen in Dante’s Inferno. The album itself does not really feature Steven’s own reactions to these songs, but in the accompanying television special, “The Nightmare” (which has finally been remastered in ridiculous HD and released on DVD after literal decades of it being impossible to find), has some small quips of Steven dialog, especially in the Devil’s Food and Black Widow scenes; he is simultaneously very timid and also not afraid to mock the Devil to his face in his own home. He is curious about everything that he is seeing, but seems to immediately regret almost all of his decisions. It isn’t until Years Ago that the album takes a more real turn, in which it starts to be suggested that Steven might not actually be the little boy he is written out to be. The song suggests that Steven is grown man who is mentally stuck in his childhood for some reason or another (this reason isn’t even explored in this album), but who has very little control over which version of Steven he is at any given time. The transition into the song Steven is amazing (and can only be truly appreciated on vinyl), and once more brings out more of Steven’s true character. From this song (and I say this hesitantly), he appears to suffer from some sort of psychosis, and has a very lose grip on reality; this idea isn’t touched upon more until Hey Stoopid, and the “calling” that he hears in Steven is likely the voice of his wife trying to wake him up, as he hurts her in his sleep (because of the night terror he is experiencing, a realization that he has in The Awakening and then tries to run away from in Escape). There are two main ways in which you can view the progression of the first half of the album: as either each song representing some sin that Steven is witnessing in Hell, or as each song representing some repressed part of Steven is experiencing (in his sleep or in his past, that’s up to you). Cold Ethyl is, ehm, questionable….in it’s true meaning to the character. I personally take it in the alcoholism interpretation rather than the necrophilia one. Only Women Bleed is a commentary on abuse, where I see it more as Steven’s personal stance and understanding, but Along Came a Spider most definitely skews this.

Alice Cooper Goes to Hell: This album is a direct follow-up to the Nightmare, in which Steven is once again stuck in Hell/his dreams. There isn’t a terrible amount of character development in the album itself, the album focuses more on the character of Alice than Steven. The dust sleeve included with the original vinyl release (and I believe the re-release too, I’m not sure though as I have a pretty decent original and didn’t feel like upgrading) has a little story printed on either side as a beginning and end to the album, which implies that in this nightmare, Steven is sent back into the Hell of the first Nightmare in order to go save Alice from his place in Hell (this is also touched upon in the title track of Dragontown). The exact wording in the text is that Steven must “free” Alice, and essentially take his place in the nightmare. This would explain why Steven goes from being an innocent, child-like character to becoming so malicious in subsequent albums, because it isn’t really Steven, at least mentally (and the Alice character has always been written as a villain). Whether this is a truly paranormal event or a psychological one is up for debate, and truly depends on how you personally view the character. This wasn’t a hugely successful album either, and is by no means his strongest one. I Never Cry, Wish You Were Here, and I’m Always Chasing Rainbows are my personal favorite tracks, and are honestly the most Steven-y, along with Wake Me Gently, in which Steven is once again struggling to wake up. The title could be a throwback to The Awakening, where Steven can’t be snapped out of his nightmares quickly without negative results, but the lyrics themselves show that Steven is drifting away from himself and he can’t control it, which would confirm the theory that Alice is taking over.

Hey Stoopid: So the only song on this album that directly relates to Steven is (my personal favorite) Wind-Up Toy, which is the final track on the album. This is the first time Steven is mention in over 15 years (since Goes to Hell), and he comes back in one hell of a track. In the song, Steven is in a hospital, grown up but clearly still stuck in his childlike state. He’s been abandoned by his parents and it is suggested that he is at the full mercy of the hospital staff, which he seems to claim as being anything but helpful. It is also suggested that he ended up here after being caught from escaping at the end of Welcome to My Nightmare (so then Goes to Hell is likely also a product of whatever drugged up stupor he’s been in), as seen in the line, “Preacher crucifies me, Warden wants to fry me,” so he’s clearly been caught for something that would warrant a potential death sentence. The lines, “I was never young, never just a little boy,” also confirms that Steven, at least in the course of the time frame in which Alice writes him, was never as young as the first half of Nightmare would have us believe. Steven’s name is also explicitly stated in the last couple seconds of the song, albeit quietly. In live performances of this song, he brings real life to Steven, and I am eternally hoping that he will bring this song back to touring. If you really wanted to stretch, you could argue that the rest of, or at least a majority of, the album could also be about Steven in some capacity (namely Might as Well Be on Mars and Die for You), but again that’s a stretch and not really worth going into more detail with.  

The Last Temptation: This is another concept album, which was accompanied by a comic book of the same name written by Neil Gaiman. The general plot follows the story of a boy named Steven as he is tempted by a character named The Showman (who is depicted physically as Alice Cooper) to join his traveling show. It plays on the themes of dystopian America and the issues of morality. I do not personally see this album as a development of the Steven seen in the other albums, but more of a spin-off. It honestly isn’t too far off from the original Nightmare. Stolen Prayer is basically a Steven soliloquy about his moral dilemma in regards to joining The Showman, and realizing how twisted his show really is, which is very similar to Steven fighting with the Devil in the Nightmare albums. In Unholy War, Steven decides against The Showman’s offer. In this song you can start to tell that The Showman is another Devil character. Lullaby is a killer track, though. It’s a direct conversation between The Showman and Steven, and is the best link to the original Steven character out of the whole album. This entity (The Showman or Devil or what have you) is turning on Steven now that it has realized that he’s a lost cause, and Steven admits that up until this point he has truly been deceived by this being. The voice acting in this track is incredible, and I think is just as strong as the original Steven song. The last track, Cleansed by Fire, shows Steven casting out The Showman (and confirms him as a fallen angel/the Devil by referring to him as “a fallen star”), but there are also a couple hints that could potentially link it to Along Came a Spider. Steven still questions what happens to him if he falls into the trap, but explicitly declares his victory over The Showman. One of the things that The Showman offers Steven is eternal life, and later in the song there is the passage, “What about death? What about sin? What about that web you’re trying to spin?” Now, there is a 14 year gap between The Last Temptation and Along Came a Spider, but Steven’s uncertainty in his own future after encountering The Showman could mean that Steven wasn’t as successful in his moral battle, and would directly link this album to the rest. The comic follows the same plot as the album, and the artwork is really gorgeous.

Along Came a Spider: This album is one of my all time favorites, and I wish he’d ended up doing the sequel he planned (it was to be called The Night Shift and I’m still mad it was never made, and am forever hoping that he’ll one day release some demos off of it). Along Came a Spider is about a serial killer known as ‘Spider,’ who wraps his victims in silk after stealing one of their legs. He claims that he has to do this to build his own spider, and thus needs eight victims to complete the task. He is a stalker, using this method to learn everything he can about his victims before using this info to make a quick seduction and then kill (as told in I’m Hungry and (In Touch With) Your Feminine Side). There are some slight hints at potential cannibalism (in I’m Hungry, obviously, and Catch Me If You Can with, “She was not the first and she won’t be my last, my hunger and my thirst”), though I’ve always taken these references less in the literal sense and more in the “hunger” equals “strong/insatiable desire” sort of way. Through the course of Feminine Side and Killed By Love (and INCREDIBLE ballad by The Coop), Spider falls in love with his final victim and struggles to come to terms with the “fact” that he must kill her. He lets her go after much internal debate (The One That Got Away), and starts to come to terms, or more so realization, with all of the horrible things he’s done. I Am the Spider/Epilogue is Spider’s confession and he’s not humble about what he’s done. The plot twist comes in the epilogue portion, in which Spider says, “We’ve been in this cell for 28 years, Steven. We couldn’t have done all those horrible things” (a part that had me screaming the first time I listened to it). There are a couple of interpretations that I’ve come up with on this point. The first is that this whole Spider scenario is another one of Steven’s violent nightmares, and all of these events have occurred solely in his head. After all, if Steven really has been hospitalized since before Wind-Up Toy, then he really couldn’t have been out there doing these things. The second (that I don’t like as much, due to the extremely negative implications of it), is that Steven and Spider are in fact the same person, in which case Steven either escaped or was released from wherever he was is Wind-Up Toy, committed the crimes chronicled by the album, and was then arrested as Spider. The re-release of the album features two bonus tracks (three, if you count the “acoustic” version of Salvation) which flesh out Spider as a character a bit more. Shadow of Yourself is Spider admiring his creation, and is basically a love song to his murder plot. I’ll Still Be There is another stalker song, though the way it’s written makes it sound like a letter he’d send to the woman he let go. Both tracks are absolutely phenomenal, and I honestly wish they’d been released on the original album because they are very, very strong.

Welcome 2 My Nightmare: This album is a direct follow-up to the original Nightmare, it can be looked at as if none of the albums between Nightmare and Nightmare 2 exist, or as a continuation of the Steven developed in those albums. This is also the last canonical appearance of Steven in the albums (though I always hope that he will pop up in the next album). The album opens with another powerhouse of a ballad, I Am Made of You (don’t be turned off by the auto-tune, this is one of his best songs), though who it is about, we just don’t know. He’s obviously fallen in love with someone and grown as a person because of it, possibly even out of his seemingly permanent child-state as this song boasts of a much more mature Steven, mentally and emotionally. However, he’s beginning to spiral again, and viciously fighting sleep in Caffeine. He knows what’s coming for him if he sleeps (“Because I know inside, if I close my eyes, it’ll be the death of me.”), and the line, “I’m shaking in the ice cold shower, I’ve been here for about a week,” suggests that Steven has been released from (or escaped from) the hospital he’s been in for so many years. He loses his battle with sleep and is brought back into the original Nightmare with the throwback track The Nightmare Returns. Now, Steven travels back through his Hell, but with little to no fear. This is another Dante-esque album, where the tracks The Runaway Train through Ghouls Gone Wild are another tour of the different rooms of Hell (featuring Rob Zombie as “The Guide” in The Congregation and Kesha as another incarnation of the Devil in What Baby Wants). This album also gives us a look into the event that likely caused Steven’s psychological trauma with the song When Hell Comes Home, which is about Steven’s father and some serious, serious abuse (the specifics of the abuse are not stated, but it’s definitely physical in the very least). This is not so much part of the nightmare as it is a memory. The tone and lyrics of the song are incredibly dark, and while the song is about one night in particular, it not so subtly hints that this is not an isolated event. Steven’s mother is in denial of anything that is happening, both to herself and to Steven, and this is what gets her killed. After the solo, the father’s enraged voice can be heard bellowing Steven’s name while Steven quietly chants, “no.” Clearly Steven is aware of what is about to transpire, because he says that this time he’s ready for him, and that he plans on fighting back (if not also killing his father). In I Gotta Get Outta Here, Steven recaps his nightmare for the album, and then realizes that he doesn’t get to wake up from this one, though he doesn’t want to accept that yet. The song ends a a sort of cliffhanger, as the last track is just an orchestra medley of both Nightmares. There are many bonus track associated with this album (spread out over many different editions). The two most important are Under the Bed which is an old school, scaredy-cat Steven track about a monster under the bed, and Flatline. Flatline is three minutes of ambient noise and a heart rate monitor. The monitor flatlines at the 46 second mark and then holds the tone until the end of the track. 12 seconds to the end, a voice calls out Steven’s name (Someone trying to wake him up? Or someone calling to him in Hell?), This track confirms that Steven is dead. Flatline was only released on the vinyl version of the album, but thanks to the vinyl purists of the world, someone took the time to convert the track to digital, which can be heard here.

Other: I personally feel like Paranormal from the album Paranormal is a Steven track. It’s a song from the point of view of someone beyond the grave comforting a loved one. Steven dies at the end of Nightmare 2 and has two ballads (I Am Made of You and Something to Remember Me By) on that same album. There is clearly an unnamed love interest for the character which would count as “unfinished business” for his soul. He also led a very troubled existence, so it wouldn’t be too far of a jump to assume that even though he died, his ghost remained behind (going by the stereotypical explanation for ghosts). Also, in Goes to Hell, Steven is contacted by Alice during the night (as seen in the sleeve text), and is tasked with going to save Alice by taking his place, who’s to say that Steven didn’t have to die to do this? In which case, the paranormal events of the song would be Steven following in the footsteps of Alice.

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 15

Summary: “How did you fix it?” he asked. “Ask Ellen the Teenage Warhead,” Wade shrugged as he stood up, “As for baby Hitler he ended up having a diaper change, funny story I was actually going to call Cable since he was so keen on killing Russel, I thought this would be like taking candy from a baby, if that means replacing it with a bullet that is,”

 Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Word Count: 1.9k

They finally reached his room and Hayden lowered Nathan to rest on his bed, he was embarrassed by having to need help to his room, she had left and then returned holding a small bottle in her hands. She popped it open and held a couple of pills in her hand before handing Nathan the glass of water next to his bed and two pills.

“Take these for the pain, they should kick in within an hour, but you should still try to rest. You’ll heal a lot faster when your body is focusing its attention on the injury,”

“Thanks,” he grumbled before swallowing the pills down with the water. She nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her with a soft click.

He moved his head back and closed his eyes slowly, breathing out and concentrating on relaxing, he had no idea how tired he actually was until that moment and sleep took over him instantly.

                                                            * * *

 “I didn’t think your computer would be very accurate but it actually works very well,” Hayden said as she read through the results on the papers.

“We have many impressive things in X Mansion, only problem is computer cannot design suit to your personal preferences, only give materials we need to create it. So I will help in creating design with you,” said Colossus, she raised an eyebrow at him. “I am decent at drawing.” He shrugged.

“He’s being modest, he’s crazy good,” Ellie spoke up and then she took the papers from Hayden and riffled through them, “Colossus you should start working on the design, I’ll search for where we can get the materials.”

The metal man nodded and guided Hayden out the room, following behind her.

                                                          * * *

  Three Hours Later

Nathan opened his eyes and sat up groggily, he’d been asleep for nearly two hours, the pills had done their job and the throbbing pain from earlier had ceased for now.

He swung his legs over the bed to the floor and stood up slowly, he wasn’t fully awake yet but he wanted to see what was happening with the others. He washed his face and quickly dabbed it with a towel before heading downstairs feeling a little more awake.

It took him fifteen minutes to finally find them, he heard Hayden laughing and peaked around the frame to see her sitting next to Colossus who had a sketchpad in front of him and was sketching, he felt a twinge of jealousy pop into his mind as her hand touched Colossus lightly on his broad metallic shoulder and he shook his head ignoring his inner thoughts.

  “Hey, you’re up!” her smile grew as she noticed Nathan standing at the door; he walked in and came nearer to the table they were seated around.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” he looked around at the scattered crumpled papers, pencil shavings and for some reason, crayons.

He was surprised that Colossus had not tidied the mess up until he realised most of the chaos surrounded Wade who had seated himself happily on top of the table like a naughty child, his legs crossed with a sketchpad rested on his lap as he drew in silence.

“We’re designing my suit,” she said with a note of eagerness.

“I’m helping!” Wade said like an excited little boy, Hayden shook her head and mouthed ‘He’s not’ which made Nathan smirk. “See, I’m already done, Colossus is so slow. Take a look, its awesome right?” he asked.

She took the sketchbook Wade had drawn in and looked over the picture, her smile turned to a frown quickly and she threw the sketchbook at Wade, he barely dodged it and it landed open on the drawing he’d done onto the table in front of Colossus.

  “Wade, you’re disgusting. And also what universe are you from where you think you of all people would see me wearing that of all things?” she crossed her arms.

Nathan glanced down and saw a childlike drawing of a sexy female form wearing what looked like the skimpiest lingerie possible.

“You’re a pig Wade,” Nathan scrunched his nose.

“Da,” Colossus agreed after seeing the sketch and covering his eyes.

“Everyone’s a critic,” Wade sighed and grabbed the sketchbook, “I won’t sit here and take this any longer!” he awkwardly stumbled from his position on the table and then stood up dramatically.

“Where are you going?” Hayden asked.

“I’m going to have a meeting with Cinnamon about how rude you all are,” Wade said and Nathan rolled his eyes.

“Translation: You’re off to masturbate.”

“It’s sad that you know me that well,” Wade shook his head, “Oh well, you’re stuck with me, forever.” He whispered the last part.

                                “I’m still waiting for the day where I can convince myself that saving his ass was a good idea,” Nathan sighed.

“That would be an eternity, and then some,” she nodded her head sideways.

“It is ready.” Colossus suddenly spoke; he moved his sketchbook in front of Hayden.

“Wow, Colossus it’s great. Thank you,” she gave him a side hug, Nathan felt his eye twitch involuntarily. “I’m going to show Ellie so that we can get the right colours for the materials,” she bounced off her seat with the sketchbook in hand and bounded out the door.

Nathan’s voice went deeper than usual as he spoke, “Why are you always so nice to her, huh?”

“I’m sorry?” he asked feeling genuinely confused, “I am nice to everyone.”

“Well stop being so nice to her, or we’re going to have a problem,” he warned before leaving the room.

“Bozhe moy. What did I do wrong?” Colossus asked himself.

                                                           * * *

  Back in the Rec Room

“I’m glad we’ve sorted all that out, thanks for this Ellie.” She smiled and the girl simply nodded, “Um, I’m not sure where Colossus disappeared to, but could you thank him for me?”

She nodded, “Sure,”

“HAYDES, we have a situation so drop whatever the fuck you’re doing this is more important-” Wade came running inside, panting heavily.

“What is it now Wade?” she turned to him.

“I fucked up big time,”

“Um, don’t you always?”

“Wow, just rub salt in the wound it’s fine I have regenerative healing, right? But seriously just-” he stopped speaking when he noticed Ellie.

“I’m leaving Douchepool, whatever you broke now is not my problem,” she rolled her eyes and left the room.

Wade looked around the room and pulled Hayden closer to him, “Cable’s going to kill me.”

  “You actually messed around with it when I told you it was a bad idea?” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “God Wade, do you only have two brain cells? I swear if you do, one bounces around idly in there while the other masturbates in a dark corner with a unicorn.”

“Pretty much yeah,” he admitted with a shrug of his shoulders, “I can’t help myself.”

She slapped the back of his head, “You’re an idiot.” He rubbed the back of his head.

“Save my sorry ass? Please?” Wade asked trying to give the biggest sad eyes he could muster.

“Fine, where is it?” she sighed.

“Has anybody seen my gun, Hades, Dickhead?” Nathan asked suddenly appearing from around the corner.

“Shit fuck,” Wade then whispered, “He knows.”

She spoke quietly to him, “Wade, would you relax?” she turned back to Nathan, “Nope, we haven’t seen your gun Cable, you sure you didn’t leave it back in the weaponry when you were cleaning it the other day?” she asked in a convincing innocence.

  “Yeah I guess so, I’ll check again,” he rubbed his head and frowned thinking it over in his head; Wade took the opportunity to run out the door leading to the nearby woods outside.

“SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK, SHIT FUCK,”

“What’s the tool’s problem now?” Nathan frowned.

“I think the only two brain cells he had left just killed themselves,” she shook her head, Nathan chuckled.

“I’ll see you around,” he nodded before he left the room.

  She ran out in the direction that Wade had gone to, debris from destroyed trees lay all around the area, in the centre of it all he was crouching on the ground with pieces of Nathan’s gun in panic as he picked up one not knowing how he was going to fix it.

“God, what took you so long?”

“I would have been with you sooner had you not run off like a complete shithead, I had to explain your weirdness because he was asking, I didn’t want him to get suspicious.”

“Okay, fine. Now help me put this fucking shit back together before Cable-”

                         “Before Cable what?” his rough voice came from nearby.

“Fuck me,” Wade said in a shrill voice.

“He just might. And what are you so worried for anyways? You’ve got regenerative healing moron,”

“That just means Cable can fuck me over as many times as he likes,”

“I did tell you not to play with it,” she said in a matter of fact tone.

“What in the actual fuck?” Nathan stopped just a few feet before the scene. “Not only did you lie, but you also broke my gun?” he clenched his jaw, his cyborg eye began to glow.

“Cable, please don’t hurt me,” he choked out.

“Oh I’m way passed hurting you,” he cracked his knuckles on both hands and twisted his head to let his neck click. “I made that gun myself and you played with it like it was some toy? You’re fucking dead.”

  “Haydes? Can I get a little help, please?” Wade nervously gulped and looked over his shoulder; she paid him no attention as she crouched on the ground.

“Reap what you sow bitch,” she commented as she raked through the leaves and put some smaller pieces of the gun together.

“Oh this is going to be very fun,” Nathan pounded his fist into his other hand and a wicked smile spread across his face.

“Spoiler alert: no faces will be pounded on today,” Hayden spoke up and Nathan turned to look at her in confusion. She stood up and handed him his gun fully intact.

“How did you?” he faltered, staring at the gun in his hands.

“Go ahead and fire it, I made it better than it was before it was broken,” she said confidently.

  Nathan lifted the gun and aimed it at Wade, it was set on a lower setting and he fired the blast, it sent Wade flying backwards into a faraway tree.

“Ow, my ass!” Wade yelled and Hayden giggled.

“It’s even better than before, how did you-” he looked at the gun, “How did you manage to ease the recoil so much?”

She shrugged, “It wasn’t that difficult, it’s a fairly basic weapon that you made with what you could get your hands on. So now you can’t pound Wade into the ground, otherwise I’ll come for you myself, I think breaking his ass on that tree is punishment enough.” She nodded to Wade.

Nathan stared at her in awe as she made her way over to Wade and helped him up, he said something to her that made her eyes roll and then she scooped him up bridal style, he nuzzled his face under her chin. She walked passed Nathan and Wade wrapped his arms around her neck.

“Love you sis,”

“Yeah whatever idiot,” she sighed as she carried Wade towards the mansion.

________________________________________________________________

>> Chapter 16 <<

[81scorp]

Constructive criticism: Wonder Woman 1984

Ah yes, Wonder woman, the first time Wonder woman got her own (live action) movie, and also the first DCEU movie that was made competently.

After the positive response it looked like the course was clear for a sequel. A sequel was made and... it looks like the (by the time I`m writing this) latest DC movie embraced the tradition, that started with the first DCEU movies, of being divisive.

The tone was very different from the first WW movie, but taking that aside... there were still more problems.

And I`m not just talking about the controversy of Steve Trevor possesing the body of another man and taking it out for a spin without the man`s consent.

From what I`ve heard Patty Jenkins wanted to capture the spirit of Richard Donner`s Superman but it seems she instead recreated the spirit of the Richard Lester movies.

With a tiny pinch of rapiness.

I have a confession to make: I haven`t actually seen this movie, because I don`t have HBO Max, but I`ve heard about the plot from several movie reviewers on youtube. And from what I´ve heard, it sounds like this one is worthy of getting the old CC treatment from ol`Scorpy.

Before I rewrite WW 1984 I want to say something about the first WW.

In my editorial "DCEU in general" I wrote that there was a only a tiny thing that I wanted to change. I`d like to add one more thing: Sir Patrick should not have been Ares.

Here`s how I would have changed it.

When Sir Patrick shows up in the tower and Diana uses her lasso on him he reveals that he is in fact Hermes, the messenger of the gods. The real Ares is still alive, imprisoned in a dungeon somewhere. The gods of olympus are still alive, they have just distanced themselves from the mortals. Diana is meant to be an agent that takes care of all the mess that the gods themselves have caused. Since Ludendorff is a disciple of Ares it technically means that it`s a job for Wonder Woman, it was Hermes job to get her out on the field and into the war. Since Ludendorff is dead now it means that Diana has finished her mission. What she does now is up to her. Diana is of course disillusioned. Steve gets on the plane, flies away in it and blows it up. Diana is distrought, sees Dr Maru and wants to kill her. She goes after her, is attacked by soldiers but easily throws them to the side. Diana is about to kill a helpless Dr Maru but... she can`t. She angrily tells Maru to get lost and leaves the base.

A few days later Diana (still disillusioned) sits at a cafè. She sees a boy being reunited with his father, it opens her eyes a little to the goodness of humans and what she helped to protect. A little girl gives her a flower. Diana smiles a little. She leaves the cafè and starts walking. She has a long journey ahead of her.

And that`s how I would do it.

It would work better with Steve`s little speech about how everone`s to blame, but it would also work better with what I have planned for the WW sequels.

So, with the first Wonder Woman out of the way... if I had a wish granting dreamstone that would let me travel back in time and make some adjustments to this movie, what would I have done?

1: instead of having it take place in the past I`d have it take place in the present. Chronologically after the first Justice League movie (OR the Batgirl and Supergirl movie.)

2: Wonder Woman would be able to fly and she can`t make things invisible.

3: Like I said in my CC of Justice League: Wonder Woman wouldn`t have a secret identity in my version. That`s right, Diana could be open about her superheroing and still keep her day job. (Hey, it works for Jennifer Walters.)

What would I call my version?

Either Wonder Woman 2 or Wonder Woman: Something something far from homecoming.

Plot

WW stops a bunch of terrorist from terrorizing. She leaves them for the police to take care of and is unaware of that she is being watched from afar by a red haired woman.

She has dinner with Barbara, an old work buddy from the museum. Barbara looks up to and is a little jealous of Diana, she would also like to be part of something big, make a real change in the world. During the conversation she mentions that her parents were not very encouraging. Besides that she asks Diana if she`s gonna show up at the museum`s new exhibition that is tomorrow. Diana thinks she`ll just steal to much attention from the historical, greek artefacts (her being a superhero with no secret identity and all) but decides that she`ll show up because the publicity will be good for the museum.

End of the day: Diana walks home, signs some autographs and meets the red haired woman that we saw earlier and recognizes her from her childhood! It`s Circe! Circe hasn`t aged a day since Diana last saw her.

She and Diana used to have fun together, Diana once showed her the different sights of the island, like the Temple of Athena, the Temple of the seven siblings and all the cool beaches. Circe used to say something about poetic about the setting of the sun. After a while Circe was banned from Themiscyra  by Diana`s mother, Queen Hippolyta. She was afraid that Circe was having a bad influence on Diana. Circe admits that she had an irresponsible side back then, but she has changed now. Now she`s trying to do something good and productive with her immortal life. They say goodbye and hope to meet again and talk some more.

Meanwhile: Barbara is using the subway. There`s a guy who is obnoxious, unpleasant and bothers the other passengers. Barbara gets so annoyed with him that she fantazises about beating him up, she is the kind of person that always bottles up all her anger.

Somwhere else: Diana is having a date with... Steve Trevor? They`re at an amusement park having a good time until Steve tells her that he has to catch a plane. Diana tries to warn him that the if he gets on that plane he`ll die but can`t, her voice is gone and her feet are stuck in the ground. Steve gets on the plane, it flies away and explodes. Diana wakes up. It was a just a nightmare.

Next day: Diana stops a robbery of an armed van. The van almost runs over... Steve Trevor? Diana stops the van and the robbers and checks if Steve is OK. He is fine, but he is also not steve Trevor. Diana had an hallucination.

Later that night: The inauguration of new exhibition at the museum. There are many people there, including Diana and Barbara. They talk and mingle. (This could be a good place for a Lynda Carter cameo.) Barbara has a pleasant conversation with a woman who turns out to be Circe, Diana doesn`t ntoice because she`s busy talking to other people. Some of the people are actually there to see the ancient, greek artefacts. Diana sees Steve Trevor again. She follows him, taps him on the shoulder, he turns around aand... it`s just Jimmy Olsen.

Diana is starting to doubt her sanity. What if her hallucinations get worse? She could risk the lives of innocent people. She goes to a psychiatrist who suggests that she take a vacation. When Diana leaves the psychiatrist turns out to be Circe in disguise. Diana puts on her WW outfit, packs her bags and flies to Themiscyra where she is welcomed by her  Amazon sisters and is reunited with her mother.

Next day: Subway. Once again Barbara is annoyed by an obnoxious man on the train and once again she bottles up her anger. Circe sits behind her, talks to her, says that she understands how she feels. They hear from a guy next to them who watches the news on his smartphones that Diana was seenflying over the atlantic with packed bags. A source has confirmed that Diana has been going through a lot of stress and is taking a vacation. Circe says that she doesn`t blame her, must be a tough job. She also adds that it would be nice if there could be someone to do her job while she`s gone. Barbara is interested in such a job. Circe takes Barbara to her  fancy apartment, gives her a potion to drink that turns her into Cheetah.

Themiscyra: Diana (wearing a typical Themiscyrian outfit) spends most of her day farming. At the end of the day she still has a hallucination involving Steve Trevor.

She worries if she will ever get well.

U.S.A: Cheetah stops a mugger. She enjoys beating him up a little too much, she doesn`t kill him though, he lives but is badly injured. Circe who saw her in action shows up and offers a few comments and a little constructive criticism but is otherwise pleased with how well it went.

Cheetah, still high from the adrenaline, leaps off into the night to find more robbers to beat up.

Themiscyra: Diana spends most of her day making pottery. After a long day she sits down and relaxes. A plane crashes nearby, it is on fire, she rescues the pilot who turns out to be a badly burnt and dying Steve Trevor. He dies in her arms. She wakes up. It was a nightmare.

A little later she talks to her mother about her problem. Hippolyta suggest that she goes to the temple of the seven siblings.

We get a flashback where Hippolyta explains to Diana as a child abut the temple. In the temple there`s a carving on the wall depicting what appears to be a jewel. The Stone of Morpheus. Morpheus is one of the seven siblings. It is said that if you touch that carving you will, the next time you fall asleep, have a dream that guides you and helps you with any problem you might have.

Back to the present: Diana is sceptical to that whole "touch the image of the stone and it will help you in your dream" thing because she believes it to be just superstition. Buuut this time she`s willing to try anything, so she gives it a try.

U.S.A: Cheetah beats up some small crooks. Circe gives her a couple of bracelets that will increase her strength because she believes that things are about to get serious. (Cheetah is strong but not take-on-Wonder-Woman strong).

Themiscyra: Night: Diana wakes up and sees a  little girl standing in the door. The girl looks like a child version of herself. The girl tells her to follow, Diana (in her WW outfit) follows her outside the city to a cave. Diana goes into the cave. She goes deeper and deeper, further and further. She meets Steve Trevor who tells her to go back, it isn`t safe. She ignores his advice and continues. She comes to a giant underground hall. There are statues in the hall, statues of her. In the center of it all is a green jewel stuck in a giant web of stone. Diana believes that the stone is the cause of her troubles and goes up to it to destroy it. Steve Trevor once again shows up to stop her. Diana tries to ignore him like last timebut this it`s not that easy, because now he fights back. Diana is forced to reluctantly fight Steve Trevor who is just as strong as she, and he can also teleport. Steve says something about the setting of the sun. That sounds familiar to Diana, where has she heard that before? Wait a minute! Of course! How could she miss it? This is is all Circe`s work. When she realizes that Circe is behind this Steve Trevor changes and becomes Circe. Diana have no qualms about fighting Circe. She defeats her, goes to destroy the stone, Circe tries to stop her with her magic and succeeds, but only temporarily. Diana gets near the stone and smashes it. Circe is gone. Diana leaves the cave and wakes up in her bed.

Sunrise: Diana changes to her WW outfit, says good bye to her fellow amazons and her mother and leaves Themiscyra.

U.S.A: Diana lands outside the museum and is soon joined by Cheetah. Cheetah, glad that Diana is back, suggests they team up and become a crime fighting duo. Diana wonders what happened to her, Cheetah  explains that some one named Circe is responsible for her transformation. Diana needs to find Circe and tells Cheetah that Circe is evil. Cheetah doesn`t like hearing that, things escalate and they fight.

Diana manages to break Cheetah`s bracelets and defeat her. She uses the lasso of truth to find out Circe`s whereabouts. Cheetah doesn`t know where she is now but remembers where her apartment is.

Diana goes to Circe`s apartment, this time it`s empty and it doesn`t look fancy at all, it looks like no one has lived there for years. A candle lights up by itself. Above the candle we can see and hear a pre-recorded message from Circe. She tells Diana that she can`t be there right now, she has more important things to take care of. She also tells Diana not to worry, the house that she`s currently in is empty, no innocents will be harmed.

The building explodes.

Diana survives with only a few bruises (she`s Wonder Woman after all).

Somewhere in a Las Vegas hotel: Circe is sipping on some champagne when she sees that a ring on one of her fingers is glowing. She knows that this means that Diana has gotten her message and the building has exploded. She picks up and looks at some ancient-looking artefact (one of the ancient greek artefacts that we saw earlier at the museum to be exact).

Her cellphone rings, she picks it up and tells the person/persons on the other end that she has the artefact. We get a flashback that shows that she stole it from the museum as soon as Diana left for Themiscyra. (And for a skilled sorceress like her it was super easy, barely an inconvenience.)

Circe: Don`t worry boys. I`m gonna get your daddy out of prison.

Back on Themiscyra: Diana talks about how it went and laments that two of her old friends turned into enemies. Hippolyta comforts her and says some encouraging words.

Later that night: Diana is wearing a fancy dress at a very fancy restaurant with... Steve Trevor?

She`s having a dream again. The reason she sees him this time is because deep down she wanted to say good bye to him in a more positive way, she doesn`t want her fight with him in the cave to be her last memory of him.

Steve: Let`s end this on a high note.

The two of them dance to classy, romantic music. (Maybe a cover of "The way you look tonight".)

She`s having a great time. End on a freeze frame. Fade to black.

End credits roll.

Not great but hopefully not bad. A little short in the second act.

And yes: the temple of the seven siblings thing and the stone of Morpheus is my sneaky way of sneaking the Sandman characters into my DCEU.

Cheetah would later come come back in Justice League 2. She`s one of the villains that Lex Luthor has recruited for his Atlas shrugged-inspired plan to take over the world. (The other villains are: Metallo, Doc Hammond, Poison Ivy, Deathstroke and King Shark.)

Cheetah`s next appearance should be in Justice League 3. In this movie she switches to the good guys`s side and after the giant climax she and Diana become a romantic couple, that way we get some important LGBTQIA+ representation.

And in Wonder Woman 3 Diana, Cheetah and Supergirl teams up to fight Ares (the real one this time), who has been freed from his prison by Circe, Phobos and Deimos.

And that`s how I would do it.

---------------------------------

Deviation nr: 143 Written Stuff nr: 36 Hope you like my written stuff, because it`s pretty much the only thing I`m gonna be able to upload for the forseeable future. Technically I CAN upload more than just written stuff, as long as it is something that can put together digitally and doesn`t need to be scanned or anything like that.I may upload visual art as long as it is an edited photo. (Kinda like Clown queen of crime or If I were pop art). Related editorials Constructive criticism: DCEU in general: www.deviantart.com/81scorp/art… As usual: english is not my first language, so if you find my writing a little wonky, now you know why. Also: My sister has a patreon if you`re interested. www.patreon.com/mariabohm 

Originally uploaded on Deviantart January 25, 2021

[rosezure]

Once Upon a December

A/N: There’s a princess movie from 1997 directed by Don Bluth and Gary Goldman, who were both once Disney animation directors, called Anastasia. It tells the story of a young amnesiac Russian girl who could be the Grand Duchess Anastasia Nikolaevna of Russia. There’s a song in the movie sequence called “Once Upon a December”. I heard the Russian version of the song- much more fitting in my opinion -today and for some reason, I thought immediately of Bucky Barnes. I just had to write about it, so here is the outcome.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it, it’s my first try at it actually. Gore like blood, murder, description of anxiety and perhaps some depression. Yup, it’s pretty bad. Read at your own risk. (Not a warning, but if you look closely there’s a bit of Stucky in this.)

Disclaimer: I found the lyrics for the Russian version here and used google translate and a series of dictionaries to properly write the Cyrillic lyrics, so if anything is wrong please tell me. The lullaby mentioned it this one.

I DO NOT OWN ANYTHING MARVEL RELATED.

____________________________________________________________

Bucky ran a hand through his sweat-drenched hair, panting. He stood up, walking over to the kitchenette of his apartment in Romania. Grabbing the only glass in the cupboard above the sink, he filled it with water from the faucet. He gulped it all down in one go and poured himself another cup.

He sighed, the sound louder than usual because of the silence surrounding him. Leaning his back against the sink, he took short sips of his water.

Another restless night. Another nightmare. He couldn’t remember what sleeping peacefully felt like. But he was sure those vicious images that haunted him in the dead of the night were more than just his subconscious playing games. They were, somehow, memories.

Each night started out differently from the other, but they all ended the same way.

Как узор на окне, (Like a pattern on a window) Снова прошлое рядом, (The past is near again) Кто-то пел песню мне, (Someone sang a song to me) Зимний вечер где-то, (One winter night sometime.)

Some nights he saw snippets of a tattered sketchbook with all sorts of drawings; different women dressed beautifully with curls in their hair, ancient looking buildings, a breathtaking skyline in the background, face portraits so flawless they reminded pictures, exotic birds with colorful wings, the list went on.

But he never could quite place a date or remember who the artist behind the sketches was, although he had a feeling both pieces of information had to do with the blonde man in the helicarrier from a year ago.

Other nights, he swears he hears Christmas carols and people laughing. He sees a small, makeshift tree decorated with handmade ornaments of all shapes and sizes in the center of a dimly lit living room with very old furniture. Then, the scene would change to show a bedroom with two iron bunk beds, a small drawer, and a medium sized closet.

The point of view also changes, confusing him as he can almost feel the bite of the spring under the thin mattress that lays on the bottom of the bunk bed to the right from his dream. He feels a shiver run down his spine.

It’s all so real.

“Bucky,” A soothing voice calls out to him. “Go to sleep, baby,” It beckons him.

Something clicks inside of him and the word “mother” cuts through his thoughts like a knife. He knows that voice. It begins singing a familiar tune.

“When nurse has tucked the bedclothes in,

and stomped across the floor,

she says there’s not a single soul,

can come in through the door.

But only me and Mick the dog,

who lies along o’ me,

know why the skylight’s open

and what we’re going to see.”

The voice carries on until the song ends and he feels at peace. Like nothing can reach him or harm him, so long as the voice continues lulling him to sleep.

Словно в прошлом и ожило, (As if coming alive in the past) чьих-то нежных рук тепло, (The warmth of someone’s gentle arms.) Вальс изысканных гостей, (The waltz of exquisite guests.) И бег лихие коней. (And brave horses running.)

There are nights Bucky dreams of dancing. A younger version of himself has a beautiful young woman wrapped around him, giggling as they twirl and slide across the dance floor. Each time, he sees a different dame on his arm, but the one constant figure is a skinny blonde boy with blue eyes that is always looming in the background, like a ghost.

Bucky sees a diner lit up by the warm lights above. A band is playing. Beautiful waitresses seem to glide between customers, large smiles permanently etched onto their bright red lips. Couples littered the dance floor, swinging and jiving to a muted upbeat song.

The vision then changes to that of a picture depicting a winter covered landscape. Men in military uniforms sat upon horses, braving the silver storm ahead of them. History lessons, Bucky remembers. But where and when had he learned them?

Вальс кружил и нес меня, (The waltz spun and carried me.) Словно сказку в свою маня, (As if beckoning in its tale.) Первый бал и первый вальс, (The first ball and the first waltz.) Звучать во мне сейчас, (Resound in me right now.)

Suddenly he is spinning and twirling a much younger girl. Bucky can hear the music and it triggers a feeling of nervousness like he is dancing to it for the first time.

His first dance.

He excuses himself and goes to the bathroom. The scenery changes and a piano plays in the distance as he smooths his hair back in the bathroom’s mirror with his wet hands. He steps out and makes a beeline to the table reserved for them.    

Them. The Howling Commandos.

Bucky drinks and laughs with a group of six other men. There’s one wearing a bowler hat, laughing boisterously, another with a British accent, a black man speaking in French with a man wearing a beret, one he was addressing as Jim and the same blonde and blue eyed from his other dreams, except he looks a lot taller and stronger.

Зеркала в янтаре, (Mirrors in amber.) Мой восторг отражают, (Reflect my delight.) Кто-то пел на заре, (Someone sang at dawnbreak) Дом родной покидая, (leaving her cherished home)

And then Bucky is back to staring at his reflection. Except it’s not on a mirror. His image is displayed on a glass that seems to surround him. He starts feeling cold and he can see his breath.

“Please! Let me out!” He hears himself shout. Why are they locking him in a such a cold place?

“You will be kept here, Seargent Barnes,” A German-accented voice tells him, “Until Hydra needs you to comply,” And then he is engulfed by a freezing darkness.

That’s when he knows the torture begins.

No matter how warm and safe the dreams start out as they always turn into a blood bath. The beautiful scenes spin him around, taking him to a dark place.

The once tender touch of the familiar lullaby becomes nails on a chalkboard. No longer promising peace but threatening him.

The upbeat song playing at the diner turns into the sound of bombs and guns firing. The couples dancing begin fighting, clawing at each other’s faces and choking their partner’s neck.

The iron bunk beds turn into cold and filthy cells holding children with sunken eyes and yellow, waxy looking skin. The beautiful dames and kind waitresses lie in a pile of mauled bodies.

The cause of all of this gore and terror? It’s him.

Bucky looks down and his hands are coated with layers and layers of blood, more pouring down on them from an unknown source. Then, his metal arm is clutching someone’s neck, the grip tightening by the minute.

“No! Stop! You’re hurting them!”

He tries to stop himself, but it’s too late. The victim’s neck snaps and they fall in a heap beside Bucky. He is trapped in his own body, a mere spectator of the horrors he is committing.

Death after death. Life after life. He continues on a blind rampage of murder and chaos. A necessary chaos so that Hydra’s order can be established. A means to an end.

The cries of pain and the pleas of despair echo louder after each new memory. They beg him to stop. To spare them. But the soldat does not know mercy. He knows only death and order, and to him, they go hand in hand to complete the mission his handlers gave him.

James Buchanan Barnes is trapped in his own mind with no ounce of control whatsoever.

Yet, there is an amber light that shines in the corner of his mind. It represents his most sacred and precious memories. The ones he knows he has salvaged because he would reach out to them and they would pull him out of his night terror. They were untouched by all the trauma and the gore that plagued the rest of his mind.

Будешь ты в декабре, (You will be, in December.) Вновь со мной, дорогая. (Again with me, darling.)

The light brings a distant promise. A long forgotten vow of loyalty and friendship.

“I’m with you til the end of the line…”

A/N: I hope you guys liked it. Feedback is more than welcome so feel free to send in your thoughts.

[monkeyandelf]

Notable demons who terrorized the ancient world

Storytellers tell stories of ancient demons that have ravaged humanity since time immemorial. In the Middle Ages, people were so fascinated and frightened by these supernatural entities that entire books were devoted to the list of demonic creatures, the areas of life they influenced and how to protect themselves from them.

Lilith: ancient demon, black deity or sexual goddess?

Lilith, satanic angel. (CC BY-NC 2.0) Lilith is one of the oldest known female spirits in the world. Its roots come from the epic of Gilgamesh and it has also been described in the Bible and the Talmud. Lilith's name comes from the Sumerian word "lilitu", which meant a wind spirit or a female demon. From the beginning of its textual existence, it was linked to Sumerian witchcraft. In the Babylonian Talmud, Lilith was described as a dark spirit with an uncontrollable and dangerous sexuality. She would have fertilized with male sperm to create hundreds of demons. In Jewish tradition, she is a notorious demon, but in some other sources, she appears as the first woman created on Earth. According to legend, God formed Lilith in the same way as he created Adam, except that instead of pure dust, he also used dirt and residue. Lilith was also known in the culture of the Hittites, the Egyptians, the Greeks, the Israelis and the Romans. Later, she migrated to northern Europe. It represented chaos, sexuality and would have cast spells on people. Its legend is also linked to the first vampire stories .

Detail from a modern illustration of Yuki-onna. ( CC BY SA) The legend of Yuki-onna (the snow woman) comes from Japanese legends. She is part of the long list of so-called "yokai" - supernatural creatures known as monsters, demons, spirits or other mythical beings. Yuki-onna is believed to live in places with snow-capped mountains where she feeds on the energy of human life and regular food. It feeds on travelers lost in heavy snowstorms. It draws human life force from the mouths of its victims in its own, freezing them solidly. With ageless white skin that is as cold as ice herself, Yuki-onna would have incredibly deep eyes and beautiful long black or white hair. Although Yuki-onna may fall in love, marry and live among humans, she will never age and her identity will eventually be revealed, therefore most legends say that Yuki-onna chooses to stay near mountain roads and to attack travelers.

Spring Heeled Jack, the uncatchable demon of Victorian England

Spring Heeled Jack as represented by an anonymous artist. ( Public domain ) It is not certain that Spring Heeled Jack was a man or a beast. Witnesses report that he has long, pointed nails that almost looked like claws. His eyes had a crazy look at them that some said was glowing when he was about to strike. Whenever city dwellers attempted to catch him, he easily escaped, running quickly through crowded alleys, jumping over fences and disappearing into the night as if he were a ghost. The Spring Heeled Jack was first seen in 1837 and has continued for decades. In particular, he looked for young women, but the damage he caused affected all kinds of ordinary people. As the story of this creature of darkness spread, its attributes became more demonic. Reports have indicated that he has horns and a pointed goat, that he can jump over roofs and that he can breathe fire. Despite all the terror he caused, Jack did little harm other than reports of ragged clothes, hysteria and heart attacks. In the 1880s, Spring Heeled Jack was overshadowed by a much more lethal villain, Jack the Ripper. The legacy of the jumping devil lives on in popular imagination to this day, most notably in the playful little toy known as Jack-in-the-Box.

Uncovering the true identity of the Jersey Devil

Jersey Devil. (pyro-helfier / Deviant Art ) Jersey Devil’s history places it at the height of puzzling crypto-zoological mysteries. It has confused and fascinated audiences for hundreds of years. The creature is often described as a flying bipedal cryptid with hooves, but there are many conflicting opinions as to its actual appearance. The common description of eyewitnesses is that it looks like a creature resembling a kangaroo, but with the head of a horse, leathery bat wings and long bird legs, claws, hooves, a face hideous and a tail fork. Several people have even said that his body looked like an alligator. It has been reported to move quickly and has often been described as uttering a "blood-chilling cry". Eyewitnesses say he hops around like a bird. It has been called a variety of different nicknames such as flying death, kangaroo horse, flying horse, cowherd and a prehistoric lizard. From January 16 to 23, 1909, the state of New Jersey experienced a major paranormal event, it was seen in person by thousands of people, schools were closed and factories closed temporarily for fear. He is said to have lived in the Barrens of Pines in southern New Jersey and was named official demon of the state in New Jersey in 1939.

Krampus, son of Hel: Punishment of the devil and the Christmas child

Krampus, the Christmas devil. ( CC BY SA 2.0 ) The Krampus tradition is popular in countries like Germany, Austria, Hungary, Slovenia and the Czech Republic. The name derives from the German word krampen , which means claw. He has a "mutilated, disturbed face with bloodshot eyes atop a hairy black body. Giant horns wrap around his head, showing his half goat, half demon line. "(Billock, 2015) According to legend, Krampus is the son of the Norse goddess Hel, ruler of Helheim (the Nordic kingdom of the dead). Krampus is a counterpart to other Christmas demons such as the Frenchman Hans Trapp and the Dutchman Zwarte Piet (Black Peter). Along with other pagan traditions, Krampus mingled at Christmas as Christianity spread across Eastern Europe. About 1,500 years ago, Krampus became the counterpart of Saint Nicholas. On the night of December 5 to 6, Saint Nicholas walks around, leaving small gifts in the shoes and boots of children who have behaved well. Just behind, Krampus, which leaves a rod in the skin of naughty children. Krampus carries a bundle of birch sticks with which he strikes especially bad kids. The worst offenders he stuffs in a bag and drags them to his lair where they are likely to be eaten. In the 12th century, the Catholic Church began its work to eradicate this pagan devil. Christians were fairly successful in banishing the Krampus until it reappeared in a consumer crisis of the 19th century.

Incubi and Succubi: overwhelming nightmares and sex-hungry demons

The nightmare ‘(1781) by Johann Heinrich Füssli. ( Public domain) Known by many names around the world and over time, various cultures have spoken of vampire-like demons that feed on human energy and attack their victims at night. Two of the popular names in English for these entities are Incubus and Succubus (plural Incubi and Succubi) - demons who attack their victims by pressing them, often while sexually assaulting them. Incubus is the male form of the demon. The name of this demon comes from the late Latin "Incubo" which means "nightmare" which originates from the Latin word "incubare", to "lie". This description is well suited to what the Incubus does to its victims - it lies (or "crushes") them. They are said to be very difficult to remove once they have chosen a victim. These demons supposedly can change shape, so their appearance differs, although they are often said to resemble humans. It has been said that the Incubi may be particularly physically attractive to their victims. The succubus ("spiritual wife" or "lying under") is the feminine form of an Incubian demon. The accounts of these demons appear in the ancient Akkadian, Sumerian and Greek texts. The princess of demons is called Nahemah. Succubi have often been described as women of exceptional beauty, but sometimes with bats or other wings of flying animals on their backs. As with the Incubi, the Succubi attack their victims at night and would also prefer victims with a religious spirit. The Succubi are looking for sleeping men and are said to be draining their blood, breathing, vital energy and sperm - until the victim can die.

Baphomet? Was the evil demon truly worshiped by the Templars

Tarot card representing Baphomet, detail. ( wimage72 / Fotolia) The first known reference to Baphomet dates back to a letter written by a French crusader in 1098. According to the crusader, the Muslims of the Holy Land called on a certain "Baphometh" before the battle. It is commonly accepted today that this name is a corruption of Muhammad, the founder of Islam. European Christians at the time viewed Islam as the worship of Muhammad, which they viewed as idolatry. The evolution of Baphomet continued in 1307, when the powerful Templars were suppressed in France. Some of the Templars admitted to worshiping an idol, it seems that their accounts were inconsistent. For example, some claimed that the idol was the severed head of St. John the Baptist, while others claimed that it was the statue of a three-faced cat. It was not until 1854 that Baphomet became the goat-headed character we know today. It was Eliphas Levi, a French ceremonial magician, who reinvented Baphomet as a figure he called the "sabbatical goat". Levi’s Baphomet was adopted by the famous occultist, Aleister Crowley. It was Crowley who linked Baphomet to Satan and linked this icon to the idea of ​​suppressed knowledge and secret worship. Thus, in opposition to traditional Christian thought, Crowley argued that Satan was not the enemy of mankind, but his ally.

Were the worshipers of the Egyptian god following a god or a demon?

Seth (Set) Left, and Horus. (Niedlich, S / CC BY SA 2.0 ) Set (Seth) is an ancient Egyptian god depicted with the head of an unknown animal designated by Egyptologists as an "animal Set". The ancient Egyptians believed that Set was the god of chaos, the wilderness, storms and darkness. He was venerated mainly in Upper Egypt from the pre-dynastic period. Originally, he was believed to be a benevolent god who lived in the underworld and was responsible for helping the dead to reach heaven, although he was later considered to be an evil god during the conflict with Horus. The disciples of Horus triumphed over those of Set, thereby demonizing Set. Another theory suggests that Set became associated with the Hyksos invaders who conquered the Nile Delta and, by the time of the second intermediate period, Set had become regarded as a malicious deity. As the god of the desert, Set was also considered the antithesis of everything that represented life. However, it was not entirely bad, in some myths the gods used Set's force and power for good. The best known of these is Set’s role as the defender of Ra’s solar boat. Each night, as the solar boat made its journey through the Underworld, Set fought Apep, the serpent of chaos. Set is often depicted as standing on the prow of the sun boat, and spearing Apep.

The shocking demon who brings the plague and devours babies

Manananggal, mythical creature from the Philippines. ( Public domain ) Rangda embodies power - she is electrifying, dangerous and from another world. She has protruding eyes, large hanging breasts and a long red tongue hanging down her body. Her mouth is full of big teeth and curved fangs; her nails are extended to long pointed claws, and her shaggy mop of gray hair hangs down her back. Rangda's legends include his taste for eating children as well as for causing illness and plague. Although she may have been an ancient goddess, Rangda is now identified as a wicked demonic queen. However, Rangda is also considered a protective force in certain parts of Bali. In the Barong dance, part of the ritual drama that focuses on the ongoing battle between good and evil, Barong represents good and Rangda represents evil. The Barong protects the villages from the plague and malicious magic, while Rangda is the one who inflicts these plagues and these difficulties. Top image: Ancient Demons: Manananggal, mythical creature from the Philippines. ( Public domain ) Krampus, the Christmas devil. ( CC BY SA 2.0 ) Detail from a modern illustration of Yuki-onna. ( CC BY SA) Spring Heeled Jack as represented by an anonymous artist. ( Public domain ) Lilith, satanic angel. (CC BY-NC 2.0) The Jersey Devil. (pyro-helfier / Deviant Art ) Source: ANCIENTORIGINS.NET Read the full article

[surly01]

A Bloody Week In Doom March 17, 2019

Prayers for the victims in Christchurch attacks.

“The old world is dying and the new world struggles to be born. Now is the time of monsters.”

 ― Antonio Gramsci  

The latest monster came to call in Christchurch, New Zealand in a story that dwarfed all others this week. I had some other ideas for what might fill this space this week, then the news from Christchurch, New Zealand, followed by the one-two punch of a Twitler emission rendered all moot. Brenton Tarrant strapped on a helmet camera, loaded a car with weapons, drove to a mosque in Christchurch and began shooting at anyone who came across his line of vision. His helmet-cam helped broadcast the act of mass terror live for the world to watch on social media. As of Sunday, the death toll had reached 50.

Tarrant thus joined the roll call of monsters alongside Stephen Paddock (Las Vegas), Anders Breivik (Norway), Robert Gregory Bowers (Tree of Life Synagogue, Pittsburgh), Omar Mateen (Pulse, Orlando), Adam Lanza (Sandy Hook), Nikolas Cruz (Marjorie Stoneman Douglas high school), Devin Patrick Kelley (Sutherland Springs church in Texas), James Holmes (Aurora), Dylann Roof (Charleston, SC), and, of course, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, who kicked off the 21st century with the Columbine massacre.

In ancient Rome, an interregnum was a period between stable governments when anything might happen, and the "the blood-dimmed tide" might be loosed:  civil unrest, competition between warlords, power vacuums, wars of succession. In 1929, in such an interregnum found Italian Marxist philosopher and politician Antonio Gramsci languishing in a fascist prison, writing about the forces tearing Europe  apart. He anticipated civil unrest, war between nations and changing political fault lines.

Interestingly, it was Gramsci who gave us the term "hegemony" now in use. Hegemony is a three dollar word representing a simple idea: the coercion of smaller fish by bigger fish. When the powerful use their influence to convince the less powerful their best interest lies in doing what is actually in the best interest of the powerful, that's hegemony. When we consider the above list of overwhelmingly white terrorists with a nationalist/supremacist bent, we can see terror is one way the powerful preserve their hegemony when they feel their power begin to wane when frightened by demographic changes posed by immigration.

Trump has the sensibility of a spoiled child tearing the wings off of flies. When asked whether white nationalism has anything to do with the tragedy in Christchurch, he replied in the negative. Echoes of “good people on both sides,” a la Charlottesville. The prime minister of New Zealand indicated late Friday coming changes to New Zealand's gun laws. A striking contrast that makes one wonder how many will have to die, again and again and again, until our own politicians, beholden to the NRA and their sea of laundered rubles, are moved to similarly act.

You'll recall that when it was his time to serve in Vietnam, the self proclaimed White House tough guy came up missing like Dick Cheney and his five deferments. Chickenhawks like Cheney always find "other priorities" to service, but are eager to send the disposable sons and daughters of the poor into harm's way, because what else are they for but cannon-fodder? Real military men who have seen battle are loath to commit their fellow citizens to needless battle; but chickenhawks, untroubled by loss or nightmares, send their non-relatives readily into the Valley of Death. 

The mob-boss stylings of Citrus Caligula make a tough sound, especially when talking to the far right media like Breitbart.

Trump said: "I can tell you I have the support of the police, the support of the military, the support of the Bikers for Trump – I have the tough people, but they don’t play it tough — until they go to a certain point, and then it would be very bad, very bad. But the left plays it cuter and tougher. Like with all the nonsense that they do in Congress … with all this investigations]—that’s all they want to do is –you know, they do things that are nasty. Republicans never played this.”

When you can't bully a majority of the people and the House of Representatives into accepting your will as fiat, that is apparently vicious tactics. Especially on the part of Speaker Nancy Pelosi, who Trump refers to as "Nancy."

"So here’s the thing—it’s so terrible what’s happening,” Trump said before discussing his supporters. “You know, the left plays a tougher game, it’s very funny. I actually think that the people on the right are tougher, but they don’t play it tougher. Okay?"

Uh, not OK. This is Trump engaging in stochastic terrorism, or

the public demonization of a person or group resulting in the incitement of a violent act, which is statistically probable but whose specifics cannot be predicted.

Trump is actively encouraging people taking the law into their own hands, in the same way Putin has his Night Riders (see below), as Mussolini had his black shirts, and Hitler his brown shirts. The purpose is unmistakable: to be bullyboys who operate outside of the law and through violent intimidation. For the last two years we've had a president who fundamentally does not believe in democracy, and whose recent utterances show no loyalty to either the Constitution or the traditions of American governance. This IS a time of monsters. And now this: 

Trump’s Breitbart Biker Threat Came From the Putin Playbook—Then Tweet Deleted After Mosque Massacre

Trump told Breitbart there could be biker violence against leftists. It sounded even worse after Brenton Tarrant's mosque massacre manifesto called Trump "a symbol of renewed white identity." It does not get much clearer than that.

The Daily Beast Explains the Putinesque origins of Twitler's latest veiled threat: 

"They call themselves The Night Wolves, “a new kind of motorcycle club,” or, sometimes, “Putin’s Angels.” And just as much as the Orthodox Church or the military, the Wolves have become a symbol of Vladimir Putin’s Russia. But the idea that they might be used as his extra-legal enforcers in times of trouble is usually implicit—embedded in their flag-waving Putinized patriotism—never really spelled out....Trump is not so subtle, however, especially when he takes his cues from the Kremlin. Leave it to him to put the potential for violent defense of his interests by a motorcycle gang front and center in the public view."

On Friday morning, as news broke of the massacre, the murderer's manifesto called Trump “a symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose,” the Breitbart tough-guy tweet came down. Note a wider pattern of American racists and white supremacists looking to Russia for both moral and tactical support.

The New Zealand Massacre Was Made to Go Viral

Outside a mosque in Christchurch on Friday. Mark Baker/Associated Press

Charlie Warzel noted that the attack marks a grim new age of social media-fueled terrorism.

A 17-minute video of a portion of the attack, which leapt across the internet faster than social media censors could remove it, is one of the most disturbing, high-definition records of a mass casualty attack of the digital age — a grotesque first-person-shooter-like documentation of man’s capacity for inhumanity.

Videos of attacks are designed to amplify the terror, of course. But what makes this atrocity “an extraordinary and unprecedented act of violence,” as Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern described it, is both the methodical nature in which the massacre was conducted and how it was apparently engineered for maximum virality.

Even though Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube scrambled to take down the recording, they were no match for the speed of their users or for their algorithms which make connections for people consuming such content. In minutes, the video was downloaded and mirrored onto additional platforms, and ricocheted around the globe.

Warzel notes,

Internet users dredged up the alleged shooter’s digital history, preserving and sharing images of weapons and body armor. The gunman’s apparent digital footprint — from the rantings of a White Nationalist manifesto to his 8chan message board postings before the murders — was unearthed and, for a time, distributed into far-flung corners of the web.

The killer wanted the world’s attention, and by committing an act of mass terror, he was able to get it.

It was not the first act of violence to be broadcast in real-time. Yet this one was different because ofd the perpetrator's apparent familiarity with the darkest corners of the internet. The recording contains numerous references to online and meme culture, including name-checking a prominent YouTube personality. Tarrant knew his audience.

Tarrent's digital trail depicts a white supremacist motivation for the attack. His 87-page manifesto, for instance, is filled with layers of  commentary apparently written to specifically enrage the communities that appear to have helped radicalize the gunman in the first place. It seems he understands both the platform dynamics that allow misinformation and divisive content to spread but also the way to sow discord.

I recently came across an article by Ezra Klein who identifies an ecosphere of YouTube prophets and avatars who populate the "intellectual dark web:" The rise of YouTube’s reactionary right: How demographic change and YouTube’s algorithms are building a new right. Many right wing publishers benefit from YouTube’s algorithms to build the new right. 

YouTube’s recommendation engine follows the digital footsteps we all make. And it sees connections, not context. It knows when audiences repeatedly come together, but does not grasp why. And it predicts what they’re likely to view next. Thus are the "mainstreams" of conservative thought brought into proximity to the far right fringe.

As Klein has it,

"Many of these YouTubers are less defined by any single ideology than they are by a “reactionary” position: a general opposition to feminism, social justice, or left-wing politics."

On YouTube, tomorrow’s politics are emerging today. Tarrant noted this and made the online community work in the gunman’s favor. Our brown shirts are now digital: not only has their conspiratorial hate spread from the internet to real life, it’s also weaponized to go viral. 

Proof That White Supremacy Is an International Terrorist Threat

It stretches from Christchurch to Pittsburgh and extends out in every direction.

The always-dependable Charlie Pierce noted that Anders Breivik, the murderous white-supremacist who killed 72 people in Norway in 2011, has become one of the most significant figures in international terrorism by providing a template for the modern white-supremacist mass murderer.

From Ted Kaczynski, he borrowed the idea of publishing a manifesto. From the Columbine killers, he borrowed the idea of using both bombs and guns. And from the international white-supremacist networks, he borrowed the murderous rage and bloodthirsty rhetoric necessary to carry out acts of mass murder, and to justify his crimes through an elaborate bullshit ideological exoskeleton that he wore like body armor. He put all of this together and created the modern mode of mass political murder, one that was carried out again Thursday in Christchurch, New Zealand.

Pierce notes that Tarrant's latest manifesto

reads like a vicious form of grandiose trolling. But there seems to be little doubt that the crimes themselves speak loudly of the basic truth that this was a right-wing act of war against a target population. And, because of that, we should take the following passage very seriously. The alleged shooter called the President* of the United States "a symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose." 

When asked if the rise of white natonalism or white supremacy posed a rising threat around the world, Trump replied, 

“I don’t, really. I think it’s a small group of people that have very, very serious problems, I guess.  If you look at what happened in New Zealand, perhaps that’s the case. I don’t know enough about it yet. But it’s certainly a terrible thing.”

On Sunday, Mick Mulvaney and other staffers made the rounds and insisted that Trump was "Not a White Supremacist." Which speaks volumes.

White supremacy now poses an international terrorist threat stretching from Norway to Pittsburgh, from Christchurch to Las Vegas, sharing objectives with the Night Riders or the Bikers for Trump, but better armed and more purposeful. Brownshirts used to intimidate; the new generation attacks to sow terror in targeted groups. This poses an existential threat to the very notion of liberal democracy. Today the target is Muslims; Tomorrow's target will be...?

For our purposes this week, Charlie Pierce gets the last word:

From [white supremacist terrorism] runs on a parallel track with the rise of a xenophobic rightwing nationalist politics that is conspicuously successful in a number of putatively democratic nations. Liberal democracy is under attack and, like any revolution, this one has both a respectable political front and a violent auxiliary that operates on its own imperatives. That one of those auxiliaries cites both a Norwegian mass murderer and the President* of the United States as inspiration for killing 49 people is not only evidence of the width of the threat, but also the depth of its commitment to the cause. This is the everyday al Qaeda of the angry white soul, and it's growing.

Now is the time of monsters.

[krinsbez]

A History of Alien Invasions; my college thesis, part 1

Well, my dad’s always going about how I ought to publish this thing that I had to write in order to earn my college degree (I will not be telling you what in because I want y’all to respect me). To my profound irritation I cannot find the actual word document, though I do have those of my classmates, so unfortunately, you’ll be getting the version sans bibliography I posted on a forum board once.

Beware wall o’ text...

A History of Alien Invasions: Depictions of Alien Invasions and Changes in Pop Culture 

Of the many ways to examine changes in society, one of the most interesting is to examine the entertainment produced in different eras. Media such as films, books, and TV programs all reflect what is going on in society at the time. Different kinds of entertainment reflect varied aspects of the zeitgeist, the spirit of the times, whether their creators intend to or not. For example, horror films reflect people’s fears. A variant of that genre which is particularly prone to reflect the attitudes and worries of an era is one that often gets short shrift in terms of cultural study: films depicting the invasion of the Earth by aliens. Unlike traditional horror films, which largely tend to play to people’s primal “night terrors” in a world of black-and-white battles between good and evil, alien invasion tales tend to speak to a part of the human psyche that is more in tune with “the real world.” The alien invasion film engages one’s fears of subjugation, loss of identity, and other cultural and political uncertainties, rather than the more conventional nightmares of vampires, serial killers, and other such sources of bodily harm. (Lucanio 11). An analysis and comparison of an array of alien invasion films will help demonstrate the way they tend to reflect society. In addition, a discussion of two or three depictions of alien invasion from other media will be included, as they are necessary for completeness’ sake. These works span a period of time from the late 19th century to the early 21st. Among these are several remakes of earlier films. To best demonstrate the changes between the original films and their remakes, the two will be discussed together. With remakes, it is important to remember that not all differences are due entirely to socio-cultural change. Some were caused by differences of the “vision” of their respective creators, or by studio politics. However, even these “differences of vision” can sometimes be used as an example of societal change, as each creator’s “vision” is just as molded by changes in the zeitgeist as anyone else’s.

War of the Worlds

This analysis begins with the granddaddy of alien invasion fiction: The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells, first published in 1898. Wells’ novel, quite possibly the first tale of alien invasion, has been adapted numerous times, in an array of different media, including radio, movies, television, and even comic books. For purposes of brevity, the focus shall rest on only the original tale, and three adaptations. These are the 1938 Orson Welles radio broadcast, the 1953 George Pal film (Rovin 164-165), and the 2005 Steven Spielberg film. Wells’ novel tells the story of an invasion of the Earth by Martians. The Martians land in projectiles shot from Mars, build nigh-unstoppable war machines, and set about destroying/conquering everything in their path until being struck down by germs. The book is in the form of a survivor recounting the invasion several years later and thus is told mostly in the first person, describing his trials and travails from shortly before the Martians land to shortly after they perish. A portion of the book is written in the third person, describing events to which the narrator’s brother was witness, and a good deal of the discussion of the Martians’ technology, biology, and other such things, discovered after the invasion. From the brief description provided above, an uneducated reader could be forgiven for thinking that the book is fairly simple, an impression one gets from surface examinations of most alien invasion fiction. This impression would be woefully inaccurate both in the case of The War of the Worlds and other works in this genre. The book exists largely as a work of satire of British Imperialism; the point is made both through the general feeling of the novel and explicit statements by the narrator that what the Martians are doing to Britain is not particularly different from what Britain was doing to the rest of the world (Wells 9). At times, this comparison is over emphasized; while a brief mention is made that they might move on to Europe, they never actually invade anywhere other than England. The novel also touches on evolution, and unsurprisingly, given Wells’ socialism, class struggle. (Taravella 249) Naturally, Wells’ anti-Imperialist sentiment and other philosophical musings do not appear in the other versions, or at least are heavily de-emphasized as they were made in different times and different places, where these issues were less important. Also, the creators of these works did not necessarily agree with Wells’ left-wing politics. This is not, of course, to say these adaptations and remakes are without deeper meaning as can be shown through analysis of them. Orson Welles’ 1938 radio broadcast is a good starting point. With a few exceptions, the lion’s share of Welles’ version is made in the form of a faux news broadcast, an embryonic form of the style of faux-documentary we now call a “mockumentary.” It takes place in 1939, a year after it was produced. In an opening monologue (parts of which were copied almost word for word from Wells), Welles sets the stage by stating that, in this fictional near future, “business was better. The war scare was over. More men were back at work. Sales were picking up.” This statement gives an idea of the mindset of Welles’ audience; it lets analysts know that these two things, the economic situation and the brewing conflict in Europe, were troubling the minds of the American people at that time. The latter is of particular importance as it was this particular anxiety that most likely drove the famous, or infamous, reaction to Welles’ broadcast: mass panic. Due to a series of circumstances that will not be discussed here, many listeners came into the broadcast in the middle, and missed the introduction that would have told them that the apparent “news broadcast” was a work of fiction. These listeners therefore assumed that the broadcast was real, that the Earth, and more specifically the United States, was being invaded by Martians…and reacted accordingly. Eventually, of course, the furor died down, leaving a mark on pop culture, both by itself and by making Orson Welles an international star. However, it is striking in what it reveals about the American mindset at the time and how that mindset diverges from that of contemporary America. Most obviously, the broadcast showed how people reacted to the media. To the modern observer, saturated with information and wary of media bias, the reaction to Welles’ broadcast seems to be ridiculous, almost insane. It is important to remember that, in those days, information about what was going on in the world was limited to four primary sources: word of mouth, newspapers, movie newsreels…and the radio. Partially because of this fact, the media tended to be, or at least was perceived to be, less partisan and more concerned with providing the facts. Welles’ program was designed to evoke the feeling of the real thing: a program of dance music, occasionally interrupted by news flashes of unusual explosions observed on Mars, eventually escalating into a live newscast of a full-on alien invasion. The power of radio at the time cannot be understated. As an example, in 1926, the BBC’s Father Ronald Knox performed “Broadcasting The Barricades,” an account of a populist revolution done in a similar fashion, albeit in a less realistic and more humorous style. It, too, produced a panic, albeit a smaller one (Gosling). The other major factor in the panic was the situation in Europe. The broadcast was made in 1938, on the eve of the Second World War. By October, the month of the broadcast, Hitler’s Germany had seized control of Austria and the Sudentenland. It was a forgone conclusion that a war was on the horizon in Europe. Unsurprisingly, many Americans feared that the United States would be pulled into the conflict, as had happened two decades earlier in the First World War. It is notable that, according to a study performed by the Radio Project, many of those who panicked did not believe that America had been invaded by Martians; they thought it had been invaded by Germans, (War of the Worlds Film) likely because of that nation’s recent aggression. War of the Worlds came to the big screen in 1953, produced by George Pal. This version was even more divergent from Wells’ novel. Pal’s Martians invaded in what was then the modern day, and their behavior was quite different from the Martians of Wells and Welles. Whereas the previous iterations came as conquerors (Wells’ Martians fed on human blood and seemed to be planning on keeping men as cattle, while Welles’ Martians “[made] a conscious effort to avoid destruction of cities and countryside”), Pal’s Martians came as destroyers, obliterating everything in their path, reflecting the belief that the Soviets intended not just to conquer the West but obliterate our entire way of life. The threat of nuclear annihilation probably played into this change as well. The scope of their invasion was also much greater, being global rather than confined solely to a single nation, just as the Communist menace was. In addition, the hero, rather than being a hapless observer, is a forceful man of action, a scientist constantly involved in the vain attempts to battle the invaders. He also has a love interest, something that is emphatically not present in Wells’ novel (Wells’ nameless narrator is married, but his wife is mentioned only briefly). These latter changes are due partially to Hollywood’s tendency to stick action heroes and romance into just about anything, but are also an attempt to reassure the audience of the power of American Manliness and of traditional gender roles, both of which were perceived as being under attack by Communists. Even more than the above changes, two things explicitly mark this film as a product of the early years of the Cold War. The first is that, while specific mention is made of nations all over the world fighting the Martians, there is one nation that is explicitly not mentioned: the Soviet Union. When one adds in that Washington becomes the center of human resistance, the implication is quite clear that the Martians are merely a substitute for the evil Soviets. The second of these is religion: in the climactic sequence, the hero runs from church to church, which somehow remain inviolate while the rest of Los Angeles is burning, looking for his love interest. He finds her at the same time as the Martians finally do attack a church, namely the one in which the hero and his ladylove are standing in. Oddly, the only damage is a stained-glass window, and the Martians die almost immediately thereafter. The film ends with a shot of a cathedral, while a narrator solemnly informs viewers that after the science of Man failed, the aliens were defeated by microbes “which God, in His wisdom placed upon the Earth”. The implication of this imagery and statement is that the Martians were struck down by the hand of God for their sacrilege. While this line does appear in Wells’ novel (220), it is part of a larger statement, which lacks any such meaning. This change is symptomatic of one of the basic attitudes of the Cold War; that America stood for God and faith as opposed to the Godless “Commies”. In 2005, a new film version of War of the Worlds appeared in theaters. Directed and produced by acclaimed filmmaker Steven Spielberg, featuring super-star actor Tom Cruise, and with big budget, state-of-the-art special effects, one would think that this film would be a bombastic spectacle that would dwarf its predecessors in scope. Such was not the case. This version focuses on a modern-day blue-collar dockworker from New Jersey and his two children, as opposed to the scholarly philosopher of Wells’ novel, the famed astronomer and assorted journalists of Welles’ broadcast, or the renowned scientist of Pal’s film. There are effectively no references to what is happening in the world at large, little speculation as to the motives and nature of the invaders (who, incidentally, are not Martians, but from another world, never identified). Far more attention is paid to the panicked crowds attempting to escape the invaders than to the authorities seeking to fight back. In short, despite its high production values and big names, it is a much smaller story than its predecessors. Unlike Wells’ and Welles’ ominous tales and Pal’s implication of divine intervention, Spielberg’s film is much more humanistic. Its hero is a flawed, working-class everyman trying to protect his family, rather than a perceptive intellectual trying to learn about the invaders or find a way to defeat them. At the climax, after it is realized that the aliens are perishing, the movie pictures soldiers destroying the invaders’ war machines. As with Pal’s film, Spielberg’s ends with a narrator quoting from Wells’ closing monologue, but rather than emphasizing “the smallest of God’s creations,” and thus Man’s impotence in the face of the threat, it instead emphasizes how Man had earned his immunity to them through centuries of deaths, proving that “men do not die in vain.” Despite the smaller scale, Spielberg’s War of the Worlds is far more explicit than the previous film. Alien war machines explode out of the ground in the wake of violent thunderstorms, crowds of fleeing people are blasted by the invaders and violently evaporate, a river is filled with floating corpses, hordes of terrified refugees trample each other in a stampede towards perceived safety, the aliens graphically drain people’s blood to spray onto the gruesome red weed that sprouts everywhere in their wake…these are just a few of the multitude of depictions of graphic violence displayed in the newer film. So, what is the source of these changes? The third of these, the explicit violence, while the least significant, is probably the easiest to explain. Throughout the second half of the 20th Century, the American people became more jaded and inured to violence. It is therefore much more difficult to elicit gasps of horror and shock from a modern audience, and it is easier to use graphic imagery to provoke the viewers than to inspire a sense of dread. Thus, a profusion of Grand Guigniolesque grotesquery is offered, a pattern that will become discernible as this survey of alien invasion films continues. The other two changes, the smaller scale and greater humanism, are more difficult to elucidate. Partially this is because Spielberg’s style of filmmaking tends to be highly personal; hence it is a case of “creator’s vision.” However, it is more than that. Many of the later films under discussion have a similar emphasis on the common man, the average Joe, the little guy, rather than the square-jawed, always-confident, intellectual hero of the Fifties’ films. There are undoubtedly a multitude of reasons for this change, but among the most likely is that it relates to a growing alienation of people from the authorities. Invasion of the Body Snatchers

The next tale of alien invasion was born in 1954. That year, author Jack Finney wrote a story, serialized in Colliers Magazine, entitled “Sleep No More,” a tale of mysterious “Pods” from outer space replacing the inhabitants of a small California town called Mill Valley when they fall asleep. The next year, he expanded this tale into a novel, The Body Snatchers. The year after that, it was developed, more or less faithfully, into a film entitled Invasion of the Body Snatchers, directed by Don Siegel. The film became a cult classic and was remade in 1978. (Rovin 38) This remake, directed by Philip Kaufman, was less faithful to the novel: the location was changed to the big city of San Francisco, it took place in contemporary times, and the characters were changed considerably. In the '50s versions of Body Snatchers, the main male and female protagonists (Miles Bennell and Becky Driscoll) are quite different from those of the '70s remake (MATTHEW Bennell and ELIZABETH Driscoll). Until his breakdown at the very end of the movie, Miles is a very decisive, take-charge kind of guy who comes as close to being in control of events as one can in such a situation. Matthew, on the other hand, spends much of the movie slightly befuddled. He is confused and unsure of what's going on and what to do about it. Becky and Elizabeth are practically the opposite. Becky is an exceptionally passive character, merely following Miles' lead in all things and contributing little. Elizabeth, on the other hand, is intelligent and incisive: she's the first person to realize what's going on, and it is she who convinces Matthew of the threat they face, rather than the other way around. The change in name, from the diminutive "Becky" to the more respectful "Elizabeth" reflects the greater assertiveness of the '70s character. These changes are a clear reflection of the changing attitude towards women and male authority between the '50s and the '70s. Another difference is in the actions of the Pods. In the '50s versions, the "Pod People" pretend to be normal humans not just by looking like them, but also by acting like them, to the point that only an intimate or close observer can see something wrong. In the '70s version, however, they do no such thing. With one or two exceptions, the Pod People appear cold and emotionless throughout. Only the complacency and obliviousness of the human population makes it possible for them to hide that something is wrong. This difference becomes more blatant in the climax of the film, in which the heroes are captured, escape, and then are chased by a horde of Pod People. In the '50s version, the Pod People attempt to persuade the heroes to join them, explaining that the process will not hurt, that it is really a good thing for it to happen. Only after Miles tears apart their arguments and rejects them do the Pod People take forcible action. This simply takes the form of locking the heroes in with some Pods and then leaving them alone, content that it is only a matter of time before they fall asleep and are replaced. Even after the escape, the Pods attempt to persuade; the pursuers shout out that it is all right, it won’t hurt, and such things. In the remake, the Pod People aggressively burst into the room, grab our heroes, and hold them down while they are injected with sedatives. Only then is a half-hearted attempt at persuasion made, one that has more the feel of a weak justification. When the heroes escape and make a run for it, their pursuers call out weird and inhuman screeches. At the same time, the way in which the Pod People go about replacing people is displayed more blatantly. In the '50s versions, while the Pods are clearly conspiring together, said conspiracy is off-stage and unseen until near the end. In the '70s version however, they openly meet and exchange Pods in broad daylight. The greater alienness and inhumanity of the Pod People and their more blatant conspiring in the '70s version are, perhaps, due to societal changes, two in particular. First, the people of the ‘70s were more jaded about violence than those of the earlier generation. Because of this jadedness, the subtle menace of the ‘50s film would not have sufficed to terrify a ‘70s audience as was intended. Thus, the aliens were made more gruesome and inhuman, so as to increase their impact and provoke a response from the audience. The blatancy of the Pod People is due to another societal change. In the 50s, the people were afraid of invasion, infiltration, and corruption by external forces, namely the Soviet Communists. Thus, the Pod People are clearly outsiders, who seek to seduce the heroes to their side with rhetoric and propaganda…just as the Communists were believed to do. In the '70s on the other hand, during the years of detente with the Communist enemy, people were less afraid of external invasion. Instead, they feared threats from the inside. In the wake of Watergate and Vietnam, the cynical public almost expected that the government, the people in whom they were supposed to trust, were in fact conspiring against them.

[zayrickyear2jh]

13/12/19 BA2a Research: Session 4 The nightmare city and the urban laboratory

Plot Summary: Chapter 3

We meet Dr Jekyll at last. A large, well made smooth-faced man of fifty, although

In this chapter - Jekyll reassures Utterson he can be free of Mr Hyde whenever he wants. He says it’s a private matter and he asks Utterson to let is sleep. He calls Dr Lanyon hide bound, meaning narrow minded.

Plot summary:The Carew Murder Case Chapter 4

Nearly a year passes peacefully.

The Hyde commits murder. HIs victim is Sir Danvers Carew, a respected member of parliament.

The events witnessed and somewhat strongly described

Consider the careful setup

Before the coming of the ever-present fog, the night was cloudless and brilliant lit by a full moon. Why might the full moon be important to mention?

Stevenson writes in rapturous terms:

The maid servant sat at her window and fell into a dream of musing.

Carew appears to her as an aged and beautiful gentleman with white hair and a very pretty manner of politeness

The moon shone on his face as he spoke

Such an innocent and old world

Hyde

A great flame of anger

Broke out of all bounds

Ape like fury

Why do you think Stevenson sets up the murder scene in such a romantic way? Its the contrast between the elements of good but evil. The scene represents tduality in action.

The association of Carew with innocent and beauty makes the violence more shocking by contrast.

It has the effect of turning Carew into a martyr-like figure. His death can be seen as symbolic.

Utterson exhibits his usual self-control (ego; reality principle)

He is ever the gentleman: refusing to draw hasty conclusions.

Uttterson travels through the chocolate-coloured fog towers Soho, accompanied by the police, to Mr Hyde’s lodgings the witness has identified him. It seems to Utterson like some city in a nightmare.

Mt Hyde has done a runner but the policeman is optimistic. Several thousand pound are found in Hyde’s bank account: surely the man will call to collect  it. All they have to do is lie in wait for him.

So the chapter ends on a cliff-hanger with a clear hook to chapter 5.

Carew ‘accosts’ Hyde with ‘a very pretty manner of politeness’

What might Stevenson be hinting at here?

Elaine Showalter calls the novella a fable of findesiecle homosexual panic. She notes that working class men of the ear were sometimes seen as erotic object by their aristatic superiors.

Hyde is classless rather than working class this itself would have been disturbing and bewildering.

‘Blackmaile’s Charter’

-Known as the Blackmailer’s Charter’s this was the piece of legislation that led to arrest of Oscar Wilde in 1895.

Urannian- The word homosexual wasn’t used in English til 1892 in a translation of a German sexology manual Psychopathia Sexualis. Victorian mainly used the word Uranian for them, this actually meant having a female psyche in a male body. Ironically the 1885 act helped create the concept of a homosexual identity.

The duality of Rober Louis Stevenson

Stevenson himself was a man of contradiction

Effeminate but straight

Wealthy but dressed down )stuffy with bad teeth)

Born to strictly religious parents but lived a bohemian life as an adult.

Played at being lower class but exploited upper class connection.

Not conventionally handsome, he was said to have mesmirizing eyes and drew many male admirers including folklorist Andrew Lang and novelist Henry James. Stevenson appeared to enjoy the attention of his male admirers. And, whether he intended it or not, Uranian men of the era did find sympathetic undertones in his work. To use mourned parlance, could this be a type of queer baiting?

There is no biographical evidence that Stevenson himself experienced any same sex attraction, but Claire Harman suggest.

Social Taboos in Gothic horror

Jekyll and Hyde: The Gothic revival.

Stiles notes the Gothic conventions of Stevenson’s novella: the nocturnal settling, the theme.

The birth of Gothic horror

Horace Walpole’s dream Castel of Qtranto

Place and time

Power/Sexual power

Note how Walple’s The castle of otranto was also inspired by dream.

Key features of the Gothic

Wild landscapes vs improsonment. The re-emergece of the past within the rest.

Fascination with obscene patriarchal figures figures

Explores the limits of what is is to be human: internal desires or forces outside your control.

full of perverse weird and dangerous kinds of sexuality.

The vulnerability of women in the 19th century

The Gothic genre had scope to explore the lives of the 19th century woman.

The genre often depicts the triumph of young women over seemingly impossible forces.

If you’ve your story female protagonist you may like to explore the tropes of Gothic horror in your critical analysis.

The Uncanny

Gothic horror is all od uncanny moments.

Figures that are not quite human such as dolls, waxworks, automat

Strange, mysterious, unsettling, unnerving, unearthy

Meaning Un heimlich means un-homely

Therefore we don’t feet at home with the uncanny or the home is somehow transformed or changed.

No one can ever quite describe Mr Hyde. A prolonged state of uncertainty.

J and H was fascinated with clockwork autumata. Could be a potential

Tip: If you’re writing a horror film, try making it personal: use your own fears and phobias to make the terror.

And harness the power of the uncanny by focusing on dread and apprehension rather than outright horror.

main it unhomely: unsettle the viewer with sinister hints a radio that turns on by itself a child’s toy that is not where you left it, a writhing maggot in a piece of fruit.

Make it un-secret: show us something that shouldn’t be shown.

Give the view time to feel the fear: You have to allow the sense of underlying unease to intensify over time.

Birth of the city/the urban Gothic

Jekyll and Hyde is seen as the first Urban Gothic novel.

In the mid 1800s huge numbers of people left the country for an excited new life in the city. But many had to live in slums with no sanitation. Disease was rife. Young children worked in factories or cleaning chimneys.

London was the largest city in the world, totalling 4 million inhabitants in the 1880s’. Stevenson chose it as the setting for his ‘urban gothic’ tale but some critics argue it’s real settling is Edinburgh, where Stevenson grew up.

The evil within..

In the tale 19thC Gothic novel the threat is no longer some external force. Instead the evil is sinuously curled around the very heart of the respectable middle-class norm’ This made it more frightening because it made the evil inescapable.

Middle-Class Victorian had a great fear that sexual depravity and other kinds of moral decay would pass from the nocturnal world to the safe space of the home.

Like a district id time city in a night mare ( The Carew Murder Case)

They grew less interested in the wild landscapes of traditional Gothic, and focused instead on the new landscape of the city: an equally appropriate source of desolation and menace.

By identifying and exploring that obsession through art and literature, they sought to control and contain it.

This fear is made visual in Jekyll and Hyde through symbolic use darkness and fog.

The urban labaratory and the strange science of the mind.

The primary figure at the heart of most Victorian fin de siecle texts is the scientist and during the fin de siecle what the scientist tends more and more to dabble.

Questioning boundaries: science, pseudo-science, and the occult.

The greatest pace of advance and change in the fields of science and medicine led Victorians to necessarily suspend disbelief: unlikely things might easily turn out to be true.

As a result the gap between science and the occult was much narrower in Victorian Britain than today.

The dual brain

we’ve already seen that hypnosis suggested the possibility of a hidden self. This concept was reinforced by the victorian theory.

Left brain is seat of logic and reason

Right brain is emotions

Women and savages were strong in the right brain. Hyde is describe as ape-like

Sergeant F: the uncanny quality of the double

In 1875 the Cornhill magazine published the case study of a brain damaged French soldier Soldier F.

Sergeant F was male, and his condition was caused by a wound the battlefield. But the dual or multiple personality was almost overwhelmingly a female condition and still is today its known as Dissociative Identity.

Stles theories that small, puny, right brained Hyde has something of the victorian feminine about him: emotionally unstable.

Victorians also believed that your personality could be read in the shape of your skull.

The Victorian era saw a huge divide between rich and poor, and in essence these types of belief enabled upper class Victorians to feel okay about their unequal wealth.

Phrenology

Developed by Franz Joseph Gall in 1796, this pseudo-science made the claim that your personality and character could be recognised by the shape of your skull.

The Profession Sickist

In letter he described himself as a professional sickest. As a result, much of his work was written in bed.

Strange case of Jekyll and Hyde

The Lancet = medical journal

Jekyll is both physician and patient, call into question the legitimacy and objectivity of scaentific case studies.

As a professional sickest its likely the Steenson experienced it.

Film to watch - The burke and Hare murders

[toastmaster20-blog]

Essay 2: Zombies

I have found a fascination with zombies ever since grade school, when I was first introduced to this horrifying supernatural creature at a very young age. I had grown up with the idea that zombies only existed to eat human flesh and brains yet was unaware of its origins until high school. The thought of there being an actual zombie apocalypse based off stories and movies/shows is both exciting and terrifying. But would these zombies be the crazed, plague-like monstrosities we see in World War Z movie, or slow and manageable through the works of The Walking Dead series?

The origin of the zombie can be traced back to Haitian Vodou in the Caribbean during the late 18th century. These Vodou rituals were derived from spiritual beliefs and practices within western and central Africa as were most of the slaves who helped colonize Haiti. A slave rebellion broke out on the island of Haiti in 1791 which sparked the creation of the zombie. Later, these slaves would settle within the Gulf of Mexico in area known today as Louisiana and from there, the popularity of the zombie boomed. In conjunction with Native American practices, European folklore, and American born slaves, America saw the creation of a mysterious religion what is now known as Voodoo. At first, the zombie was a mindless human that had limited motor skills other than walking, arm, and hand movement. However, stories of the zombie evolved into creatures that relied solely on the spread of the zombie virus and to consume all human flesh in site. These beasts would originally be under the control of Voodoo practitioners as slaves to do their bidding. Once these stories and rituals reached the United States, Americans began to fear what they did not understand and nearly shunned Voodoo practices. The “depiction of blacks as helpless creatures was undoubtedly appealing to many white Americans,” despite the fact that most Americans of European descent were afraid of black slaves even when non-slaves vastly outnumbered slaves in the South. Voodoo was seen as a practice that only slaves were associated with and continued even after all slaves were freed after the 13th Amendment abolished slavery in the United States. Since its introduction to American society, Haitian Voodoo has been a touchy subject that did provide the world with an abundance of zombie fandom, but the origins of it all remains a sensitive topic. 

As portrayed in Victor Halperin’s White Zombie 1932, the zombie is a walking corpse that carries out the will of its master. The inconsistency of what a zombie can and can’t do during the film is quite funny to notice. Sometimes they can carry large amounts of weight without difficulty, other times they are cluelessly falling to their official deaths by just walking off a cliff. Perhaps this has something to do with the type of control that the master has on them. Later, we are introduced to George Romero’s 1968 film, Night of the Living Dead, where the zombie has been reborn into a flesh-eating monster that terrorizes a small group of people trapped in a house for a night. The origin of this zombie does not come from a Voodoo master, but from just the reanimation of the dead as flesh-eating corpses as created by writer John Russo from the 1968 film. Russo came up with the idea for the zombies to desire human flesh and since then, the zombie has been revolutionized over the last 60 years.

The zombie and its fan-base exploded in popularity at the turn of the 21st century with movies such as; Dawn of the Dead, Resident Evil, and 28 Days Later. Resident Evil even inspired video game companies to create their own renditions of how zombies should be within a game. Games like; the Left for Dead series, Call of Duty, and Dead Rising are just some of the many game titles that jumped on the zombie bandwagon. There have also been several books, TV shows, and comic books that benefited from the zombie craze. Needless to say, the modern zombie has been quite the phenomenon in pop culture for the past 15 years and has not stopped growing. However, the time period after the 1960’s and before the 21st century, zombies were seen as horrific creatures that haunted our nightmares with no real love or excitement like we see today. Zombies were still linked to “Voodooism” during this time and remained a disturbing subject to speak of until the 1980’s with cheap zombie movies be made. This would eventually set the people’s minds at ease about the racial tension regarding zombies. Since it was mainly a slave practice, anyone who wasn’t a slave would, for the most part, stay clear. Why though? As mentioned before, most of us fear the unknown and when presented to us, we push away either from fear, religion or even both. In modern times, the zombie craze is everywhere with new movies, shows, and games being introduced at a rapid rate. Some people might argue that this craze is a little too much and should die down just like how aliens were in the 1990’s and dinosaurs were in the 00’s. Aliens and dinosaurs were scary for their time. Stunning new visual effects and animatronics were state of art in technological advances. Even zombies have evolved visually on the big and silver screens, but some believe zombies have already reached their peak. What more can you do with Zombies? In case of an actual zombie outbreak happening in the real world, authors such as Max Brooks have compiled a few books including the Zombie Survival Guide which explains everything you need to know in case of an outbreak. From food and water, to shelter and security, Brooks provides an in-depth look at nearly every possible situation you could encounter. This just adds fuel for the fire that is the zombie craze. With such a great love and fascination of zombies these last 15 years, you have to wonder if most if not some of these fanatics understand the origin and history relating to zombies. How far back does their knowledge go about these mindless corpses? Would they look upon these disturbing origins through the lens of today’s society or would they try to understand it in better detail without jumping to conclusions? Perhaps a handful of people now know the origins surrounding the zombie, surely due to time and how the zombie has evolved. Will the zombie continue to evolve and capture the minds of younger audiences or will it slowly fade for the time being just like its predecessors?

 Moreman, Christopher M., et al. Race, Oppression and the Zombie: Essays on Cross-Cultural Appropriations of the Caribbean Tradition. McFarland, 2011.

 For information about when the Zombie Craze started, head here.

http://www.thesportsmanchannel.com/2012/10/whats-the-deal-with-this-zombie-craze/

[marvelhead17]

Miracle (Original Female Character x Cable Fic)

Chapter 2

Word Count: 10.7k

Inspiration song: Miracle - The Score

Disclaimer: All characters mentioned except my own are owned by 20th Century Fox/Disney. All songs and lyrics described and used in this story are owned by their respective writers/producers/performers.

Warnings to cover the whole fic: Graphic depictions of violence, use of weapons, mild to strong language, mentions of rape, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage, referenced torture and psychological abuse/manipulation, nightmares and night terrors, sexual humour, sexual content.

Author’s Note:  The Italics used is this piece is sometimes in reference to Russian or foreign language used by characters. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

Hayden opened her eyes and blinked against the harsh light beaming down from above her. She raised her hand slightly to cover her face and tried to get her other hand to push her upright, but it was proving difficult as she felt very weak and heavy. As she got used to the light, she noticed a woman in a white lab coat with dark red hair busy paging through some paperwork on a nearby desk nearby, her back facing her.

She finally managed to prop herself up after much effort, when a hand suddenly rested on her shoulder and gently guided her to lie back against the headboard, she winced at the stinging heat that came from the source of the touch; and when she whipped her head to the left she found that Nathan was standing over her.

“Get your hand off of me, prick,” she glared at him.

“She seems fine to me,” she looked to her other side to see a man wearing a singular red lens that was strapped from temple to temple across his eyes.

“Who the hell are you? Where’s Wade?” 

“You need to relax,” the woman finally spoke, her voice was soft and kind. “I’m Jean, this is Scott, and I can assure you that we’re both here to help,”

“Not the best thing to say to her,” Nathan warned, crossing his arms and taking a seat next to her bed. “And as for the tool, he’s outside annoying the others,”

She nodded and looked at the other two, “You work for Xavier don’t you?” she sighed.

“With him, we’re not his slaves,” Scott corrected.

“You may as well be with all the rules he has you following, talk about your Prisoner of War camp-” Wade said as he entered the room, he moved to Hayden’s side immediately, making Scott have to walk to another part of the room.

“Shut up, dipstick,” Nathan grunted, “Unlike you, we’re actually trying to help.”

  “Um, excuse me? Who was the one who brought her back after she collapsed?” Wade huffed in disbelief.

“Me, because you were busy shrieking like a scared little girl, and flailing your arms around like a complete and utter moron,” Nathan retorted.

“Technically by getting your attention, I did help,” he argued.

“No, you didn’t,”

“Well then, who ran the tests to see what was wrong with her?”

“I did, because I’m the qualified doctor and you almost broke the machine with all your button-pushing,” Jean sighed, holding the clipboard she had gathered against her chest.

“But then you pushed the right button, because of me.” he looked at Jean and she shook her head, “No? Alright, then who-”

“Wilson, just give up already,” Scott exhaled loudly and pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “Anyway…” Jean cleared her throat and walked over to the bed, “Hayden,”

“Hades,” she corrected her right away.

“Hades, okay. Well, I’ve been running a few tests on you to see what was wrong, and all I can really say is I’m stunned, I’ve never seen anything like this before.” she tapped the clipboard. “And I’ve seen a good handful of mutants with cell regeneration before you, but this, it’s unbelievable,” 

                    “When you were asleep most of your cells were collapsing in themselves, as if they were dying. Well of course they were dying, but… I’m sorry it’s crazy,” she shook her head. “Does this happen a lot to you?”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, “It’s nothing special, I just get stronger after someone, or something, stronger than me kicks my ass, it’s like a… A survival mechanism that goes into overdrive,”

“I see,” Jean nodded, “And you must know that your immune system is vulnerable right now since it’s trying to regenerate again,” 

“Yeah,” Hayden nodded, while brushing her arm to stop the sudden chill she had.

“So when Juggernaut tossed you round like a ragdoll earlier, your body started to kill its own cells, and knock you out in the process?” Nathan asked.

“Pretty much,”

“How the hell didn’t I know about this?” Wade asked, “Did it just slip your mind that this might be important? Even just a little bit?”

“I didn’t say anything because I didn’t think I’d fight someone that strong again, it sure as hell didn’t seem like a possibility,” she argued and now brushed both arms to warm herself up. “Why’s it so cold, can we turn up the temperature here?”

Jean looked at the others and they all shook their heads, “I think you’re the only one who’s getting cold Hades,” she put down the clipboard and then grabbed a thermometer, “Open your mouth please,”

“What? I’m fine, it’s noth-” she frowned heavily when the thermometer was put in her mouth, “‘ey, rude,”

“Don’t talk,” Jean instructed and Hades complied despite her initial complaining, she eyed her watch and after a few moments removed the thermometer and looked at it.

“I told you I’m fine, you’ll see for yourself,”

She shook her head, “Your temperature is already five degrees lower than it should be,” she frowned and pressed her hand against Hayden’s forehead, “It’s like you’re hypothermic, and yet, you feel fine?”

“Like I said, it’s happened before,” she rubbed her arms more, “I’m just used to being alone when this happens,” she eyed everyone for a moment.

“Right, well maybe we should leave you until you’re ready,” she pressed a button on the side of the bed and a holographic monitor flickered up above the bedrest. 

It showed a bunch of statistics including her heart rate, temperature and blood cell composition, most of which were already beginning to drop slowly in count as they looked at it.

“Is all this really necessary?” she poked at the heart rate section, a strange noise beeped out and she scrunched her face slightly, she was quick to grip the shirt at her chest, “Ow, ow- okay,” she breathed out, “Just a cramp, nothing serious,”

“You’ve got some nerve calling a heart cramp, ‘nothing serious’,” Nathan looked at her with a raised brow.

“What the hell does it matter to you, old man? Why are you even here?” she scowled at him despite taking erratic breaths. 

“Hey I’m the one who carried you here, remember?” he stood up from his seat, “No thanks necessary, princess,” he headed towards the door.

“Hey, I didn’t ask for your help asshole!” she sat upright and then winced immediately after, grabbing the side of the bed and gasped as her heart cramped again.

Wade soothed her backside and made her sit against the headboard, her skin was paling again and she closed her eyes for a few seconds as she adjusted to the new level of pain.

“Hayden, I think I should give you something to ease the pain,” Jean turned around and started scratching through drawers, eventually pulling out an unused needle and then searching through the various medications for the right solution. 

“It’s fine Jean, don’t worry about me,” Hayden raised a hand, “My skin can’t be pierced, and oral drugs don’t work either,” Wade snickered when she said ‘oral’ and she gave him a look before continuing, “Trust me when I say, I’ve tried everything.”

“So, how do we help you then?” Scott asked with serious concern in his voice.

“Honestly the best thing you could do is leave me alone,” she pulled another face while Wade sat down in a chair next to her bed, “Wade, I’m serious, you have to go too. This isn’t something you wanna see,”

“I think we have to do as she says,” Scott nodded and looked at Jean, whose shoulders dropped as she agreed with them.

“You know yourself better than I do,” she looked defeated, “But you will shout if you need me right?”

“Yeah, if I need you,” she flinched and rubbed her chest, “Ah… You guys better go,” they slowly made their way out, “I’ll be fine in about an hour, you’ll see,”

“You better be,” Wade looked at her seriously as he was standing at the door, she managed to give him a small smile and he returned it, giving her a salute before closing the door behind him.

                         Wade threw himself against the wall and slid down to the floor, groaning into his hands and then lifting his head when he realised Nathan was sitting across from him in the hallway.

“I thought you’d left,” he tilted his chin up.

“Yeah, well, got nothin’ else to do,” he grumbled, he was focused on cleaning out his nails with a pocket knife, flicking the dirt he scraped out somewhere else. “How’s princess holdin’ up in there?”

They heard a loud moan and looked towards the door, “By the sounds of it, not much better,” he sighed. “This is my fault,”

Nathan raised a brow at him, “Her cells regenerating is your fault how?”

“If she hadn’t come looking for me, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place,”

“She chose to come after you, God knows why,”

“No need to be jealous,”

“Jealous? The fuck do I have to be jealous for? You and your psycho lady friend can get yourselves killed for all I care,” he huffed and went back to cleaning his nails.

“You say that, but your eyes say something else,” Wade chuckled, “I know you like to act like the grumpiest fuck on earth, but you’re a softie deep-down, deep, deep down, under all that crust, and hate-”

“Dumbass,” he muttered, making Wade smile.

  Behind closed doors the monitors started alarming with various sounds, and Nathan stood to his feet without thinking, he barged into the room despite Wade calling him back and found Hayden curled up in a foetal position. Her whole body was trembling and when he reached her side she sat up too quickly, letting out a shaky breath as she looked at him, her eyes were barely staying open.

“Cable- the hell are you, you doing here?” she doubled over, her arms wrapping around her waist and he noticed her scars pulsated a faint violet colour several times under her nearly blue skin.

“You sounded like you needed company,” he placed his cyborg hand on her shoulder and she stiffened.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” she growled and he removed his hand quickly, “Get out, now.”

“I’m staying whether you like it or not,” he sat down in the chair and crossed his arms, “I’ve seen that pained look behind the eyes before, you say you’re fine, but you’re lying so that nobody worries about you,”

She tried to laugh at him but ended up wheezing instead, “You think I sent them out to ease their worries?” she moved back onto the bed and gasped as her head hit the pillow, “I did it for their own d-damn safety,”

He noticed that her heart beat was slowing down even further, and her temperature was dropping rapidly, but despite that she seemed to have sweat beading on her face. He stood up and walked over to her, “Is there anything I can do?”

“Leave, you can just leave,” she tried to shoo him with her arm but was too weak, he took her arm and started examining it with his cyborg eye. “Hey, get off!” she tried to push him away and he stepped back, causing her to roll off of the bed and onto the floor with a definite thud. “Ah! Fuck!”

“Shit, sorry,” he bent down to reach for her and she deftly smacked his hands away, he then stepped back and watched as she took a few deep breaths, before reaching up to the frame of the bed and grabbing it.

“Would you just leave me alone? You’re n-not helping,” she didn’t even look at him as she spoke, instead trying to get her other hand to grab the frame as well. Once she was clutching it she tried to pull herself up, but the metal buckled underneath her grip.

It was starting to crack when Nathan moved behind her, placing his hands underneath her arms and lifting her up with ease, she released the frame in surprise and immediately crossed her arms once he placed her back onto the bed.

          “I didn’t n-need your help,” 

“Yeah, cause you had everything under control, right?” he sat back in the chair, crossing his arms as they stared at each other.

“Whatever,” she finally spoke up, and forced herself to lie back in bed. “Just don’t blame me for whatever... Whatever trauma you get out of this,” 

He sat up, watching her curiously, her eyes were blinking slowly and her breathing was clearly laboured, “Is this as far as it goes?” He waited for her to answer and frowned after a few moments. “Hades?”

  He stood from his seat only to realise that her body had stiffened, the monitor had been beeping and he hadn’t even heard it until he stood next to it, her eyes were glazed over, completely lifeless. He gave her a onceover, and an overwhelming sense of panic had nearly prevented him from thinking clearly, until he took a breath and tilted her head back.

He spread his hands out on her chest and pressed them down firmly, repeating the motion several times, he pressed firmer each time and gritted his teeth as he stood back. “C’mon kid,” 

He shook his head as the monitor showed no response, he did a few more chest compressions and then took a deep breath, lowering his face to hers and preparing to put his mouth onto hers when she gasped loudly underneath him and he jumped back in surprise. “Jesus!”

She coughed for a few seconds, trying to sit up before shaking her head and facing him, “What the hell were you doing?” she looked down at his hands which were still on her chest and he promptly pulled them away.

“CPR, you were dead a few minutes ago-”

“Yeah, I know,” she nodded at the monitor, and he saw the levels were going up, “Happens every time, that’s why I wanted to be alone.”

“Right,” he nodded along, staring at the monitor now, “So that’s it, you just up and die, then spring back to life like nothin’ happened?”

“Yeah,”

Nathan walked back over to his chair and sat down, looking dumbfounded, “I don’t get it. You’re not a mutant, but you’re a lot like that dumbass,” he gestured outside to where Wade was waiting.

“It’s a long story,” she swung her legs over the bed and started to stretch out her arms and backside. “What?”

“Shouldn’t you rest? I mean, I might be wrong here, but you did just die and all,”

“Nah,” she waved her hand, “I’m fine, see?” she pointed to the monitor and he saw that all her levels had returned to normal, he looked back at her and scanned her with his cyborg eye.

             “You really need to stop doing that,”

“Doing what?” he tilted his head slightly.

“That creepy thing, with your eye,” she gestured, “It feels like you’re looking under my clothes or something,” she shuddered.

“Sorry,” he grunted, “And for the record I’m not doing that. Do I look like a pervert?”

“Look I don’t know you, I’m just being wary,”

“After seeing you kick Juggernaut’s ass, you really think I wanna mess with you?” he leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, “I’m not stupid enough to sign my own death sentence princess,”

“You’re still an asshole though,” she stood up and looked at the door, “I don’t know why you saved Wade, but it doesn’t forgive what you did in the first place, and neither does staying here with me, understand?” he looked up at her and sat back when he noticed her eyes had changed again, “And don’t call me princess,”

He only nodded as he watched her walk out of the room, and then he shook his head and frowned, getting up from his seat and leaving the room as well. 

                                                                * * *

After roughly two weeks the three of them settled into their new home, Domino spent most of her time with the children that had been rescued from the so-called rehabilitation centre, Nathan was slowly getting accustomed to living in their time despite his initial annoyance that everything required manual input on his part; while Hayden had taken the longest to settle in, she wasn’t used to living with many people except for Wade and Vanessa, and even then it was a brief stay, and she kept her distance as best as she could.

Nathan could see she was getting agitated by the littlest of things, she was clearly not sleeping well given the dark rings that had formed under her eyes, and whenever Wade tried to interact with her she would snap at him and tell him to leave her alone. He said nothing when she sat on the couch opposite him, she curled up with her phone and listened to music with her eyes shut, her skin would sometimes start glowing before settling again, and she would sit still for hours on end without speaking with anybody unless they dared to speak to her first.

Most nights she did seem to snap out of her trance and join them for dinner, and she became surprisingly social and friendly, but other nights she simply went to her room and only came out the next day to repeat the routine she had set. And since he started thinking about it, he couldn’t recall her eating very often at all, and he was annoyed that he couldn’t figure out how she was still even alive at this point, it wasn’t human at all, but she wasn’t mutant either as she claimed.

   The water rushed down around Hayden from every angle, she was trapped in a large tank that was quickly filling up and the air was getting thinner and thinner by the minute, every breath beginning to feel like it may be her last as she kept paddling furiously to keep herself above the water.

“Let me out, please!” she begged and tried to bang on the sealed opening with her fists. She could feel herself slipping under as she was losing energy, the gap was closing between the ceiling and the water and she was panicking. 

                  “Please!” she gasped for one last breath, slipping beneath the torrent, she managed to open her eyes and pressed herself against the glass to see her father, his arms crossed as he stared at her emotionless.

She opened her mouth to scream, only to realise too late that she was releasing the last of the air she had in her lungs, the bubbles escaped to the top of the tank and she choked as the water filled in its place. It wasn’t long before she lost her consciousness, the world went black and her heart stopped beating in her ears.

  Hayden gasped as she sat up in her bed, gripping the sheets in her hands for a moment, sweat was dripping down her forehead, she took a few deep breaths when she realised where she was, and moved off of the bed. She was unsettled for umpteenth night in a row, so she grabbed her go-to kit, and headed to the rec room to escape the nightmare that played back in her mind, at the very least she would feel less trapped in the bigger room.

She tiptoed past the other bedrooms as quietly as she could, as the floors were old wood that tended to creak whenever they were stepped on, and made her way down the stairs quietly. She reached the couch, sitting with her legs up and leaning forward, she put the earphones in and pressed play and then crossed her arms over her legs and rocked slowly back and forth. She let the tears begin to stream down her cheeks as she tried to breathe to remain calm, she ducked her head down and shut her eyes tightly.

   Nathan took in a deep breath before he leaned over her, his lips a mere inch away from hers, when they touched and he found that they were soft. Ridiculously soft, if it weren’t for the current situation he felt like he would linger for some time, he forced the air out of his lungs and into hers.

She was unresponsive, but it was rare that the first attempt would give immediate results, so he tried again, and again, and again. She remained still, lifeless. He moved his head back and looked over her features, her eyes were glassed over, the pain still reflecting behind the empty gaze, and her skin was ice cold beneath his hands that rested on her chest.

He spread his hands out on her chest and pressed them down firmly, repeating the motion several times, he pressed firmer each time and gritted his teeth as he stood back. “C’mon kid,” he leaned over and pressed his lips onto hers and breathed air into her before compressing her chest once again.

He shook his head as the monitor showed no response, he did a few more chest compressions and then took a step back and ran his hand through his hair. If he had just tried harder, if he had only come back to her sooner.

He stared at Hayden with hot tears that were fighting to fall from his eyes, her dead unblinking stare was focused on the ceiling. He collapsed into a nearby chair and put his face in his hands, his body shuddered as the tears flooded out.

  Nathan breathed heavily as he shook his head back to reality, sitting up in bed before standing up and then washed his face from sweat and hot tears that had shedded in his sleep; he dried his face with a towel before looking hard at himself in the mirror, his cyborg eye was glowing dimly back at him.

“What the hell is going on with you, Summers?” he asked himself.

He walked back to the bed, uncertain if he would be able to fall asleep after that nightmare, he sat down on the bed letting out a big sigh and rubbed his face with his hands. He closed his eyes and fell back into the bed, trying his hardest to block out all the thoughts that rushed in, but he heard what sounded like someone crying which caught his attention and that made him sit up, he tried to focus on where it was coming from.

He glanced at his alarm clock. It’s one in the morning. Who else could be up? He wondered, then he heard the sound a little louder and realised it was coming from down stairs in the rec room. His curiosity got the better of him, so he threw on a jacket and pants before he left his room to find the source.

  Nathan rounded the wall of the stairs and recognised the glowing light right away, it was a mix of white and dim violet, Hayden was holding herself tightly and sobbing on the couch by herself, listening to her music again. He felt his heart ache for some reason, but compared to the nightmare he had had earlier, this was preferable to see and it gave him a sense of relief.

Without hesitation he made his way over, sitting down next to her which startled her and she nearly screamed, but he covered her mouth before she could.

He quickly removed her earphones and spoke quietly, “It’s me, Cable,” 

She grabbed his wrist and yanked his hand away, and whispered, “You scared the shit out of me asshole! And hey, don’t touch the earphones!” She grabbed them back and bundled everything onto her lap.

“Alright, alright. Calm down,” he moved back slightly and she frowned at him.

“Calm down? You can’t sneak up on someone like that and expect them be calm,”

“Why are you here in the middle of the night?”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I was awake, and I heard someone crying. Now I’m asking again, why’re you down here?”

She leaned back into the couch, crossing her arms, “Can’t sleep.”

“When’s the last time you got a good night’s rest?” he asked, leaning back into the couch as well, she shrugged. “Let me guess, nightmares?”

She nodded, “Why were you awake?”

“Nightmares,”

“Why do you get nightmares, isn’t the future supposed to be some kind of Utopia?” she leaned her head back onto the couch, and turned her head slightly to look at him.

“The future isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, there’s a lot of shit to deal with,” he disagreed, “You’re young, so what exactly do you get nightmares about?”

“Present isn’t all it’s cracked up to be either,” the corner of her mouth twitched into a smile, “Been through a lot more shit than you might think,” she moved her head back and closed her eyes, “You know I’m not sure why I’m even talking to you, Wade’s the only person I trust,”

“Well you can stop talking anytime you’d like,” he suggested, hoping there was no tone in his voice.

“I guess you’re right,” she agreed and made herself more comfortable, “I didn’t want to wake him though, losing Vanessa has really hit him hard, as much as he’s been playing it off like it’s nothing,”

“I was the same when I lost my family,”

“Were you though?” she asked.

“I suppose he was more suicidal and I was more uh…”

“Homicidal,”

“Yeah,”

“To a kid, and I’m not judging, I'm just, connecting the pieces.” she paused for a moment, “I suppose I should be thanking you,”

“For what?”

“Coming down here and checking on me, you could’ve just as easily walked away,”

“Don’t mention it,”

“And thank you for going back and saving Wade, that must have been a tough decision to make,”

“As much as the guy annoys me, he seemed to be important to a lot of people, I was only doing what was right,”

“Mm,” she hummed. 

He leaned forward off the couch and looked back at her, wanting to ask more but stopped and watched her, her chest was rising and falling slowly and her face had softened from her irritated demeanour she first had. “Hades?” He gently shook her leg and she moved slightly, but said nothing.

He stood up and leaned over her, managing to scoop her from the couch and walked carefully with her in his arms up the stairs to the rooms, when he reached hers he approached her bed and then lowered her slowly onto it. He then took her blanket and covered her, tucking her in like she was a child, he stepped back and smiled at his handiwork. I still got it.

Nathan left her room and went to his own, and his eyes fell on the teddy bear that belonged to his daughter, he walked over to it and picked it up. He thought for a moment and then took the stuffed animal back with him to Hayden’s room, he placed it under the blanket next to her and held his breath when she stirred, only for her to wrap her arms around the teddy and continue sleeping.

He walked out of the room and turned around when he reached the door, “Sweet dreams kid, Hope will keep you company tonight,” he whispered before closing the door quietly behind him.

                                                                     * * *

  Hayden woke in the morning feeling well rested for the first time in two weeks, she frowned at the fuzzy soft warmth that she had unknowingly cuddled during her sleep, when she could see clearly she realised it was Nathan’s daughter’s teddy bear.

She sat up and eyed the bear curiously. So this is what normal children have? I wonder how old she is.

A soft knock on her door tore her away from her thoughts, it opened just a little and Nathan’s voice spoke through the gap, “Okay to come in?”

“Yeah I guess,” she placed the bear on her lap and watched as he settled himself on the foot of her bed.

“How you holdin’ up kid?” He looked genuinely concerned.

“I was holdin’ up, fine until you just called me ‘kid’, I’m twenty-eight not ten,” she raised a brow at him.

“Fine, but you’re a terrible liar, Hades,”

“Sue me, I just woke up,”

“Been that long since you had decent sleep, huh?” he asked smugly.

She sighed, “Yeah, thanks for uh, last night.”

  “Last night! What happened last night?” a dramatic gasp came from Wade who was waiting in the doorway, “Did you two fuck last night?”

“Jesus.” They both said; they looked at each other before looking back at Wade, and a small smirk appeared on his face as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

“You two fucked with Jesus?” Wade looked even more shocked, “Why didn’t you call me? We could have made it a party!”

“Because out of all the people you’re the most sinful shithead in the world Wade, Jesus would burn in your presence alone,” she shook her head.

“Ooh baby’s got some fire in her today,” Wade smiled, making him roll his eyes and move further to the edge of the bed when Wade decided to jump onto it in-between them.

“Watch it,” he growled, the soft expression and concern he had moments ago vanished.

               As if Nathan hadn’t threatened him, Wade had wrapped his arms around both of their necks and hugged them close to his head, they both squirmed uncomfortably as their faces squished against his, but Wade took no notice.

“Look at my two amigos getting along so well, huh!” he laughed, “We make a great threesome, speaking of, wouldn’t it be fun to-” They each escaped from his hold and grabbed his arms, before twisting them and hearing an audible popping sound from both sockets, Wade yelled at the sudden pain.

                “Ooh yeah Mommy and Daddy know just how Baby likes it-” They both dropped his arms and gave him a disgusted look. “What, just me?” He looked down at his limp arms and practically squealed, “It’s too early in the fucking morning to deal with this bullshit!” he stood up, his arms dangling loosely on either side of him.

“No, it’s too early in the morning to deal with your antics Wade,” she corrected.

“I was just thinking the same thing,” Nathan agreed.

“How the fuck am I supposed to have my morning masturbation now?” Wade whined as he swung his arms around, “Unless, Cable-”

“Fuck no.”

“Wade?” She stood up from her bed, placing the bear carefully on the bed and approached him.

“We have a volunteer!” he cheered.

“Eww no, get out, that’s what I wanted to say,” she started pushing him towards the door, and once he was out she closed the door on him before he could argue.

“And he’s your... Brother?”

“Honorary brother, a decision I’m regretting every day,” she sighed but smiled regardless, and sat down on the bed again. “I love him like a brother, but sometimes his crap is just too much.”

“You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you? I mean to put up with all that crap.”

“About six years now I’d say,”

“And you still hang around him? How the hell do you tolerate it?”

“He… He helped me, let’s say, to escape when I didn’t even realise that I was in danger,”

“Escaped, from where?”

“Ironically I think I could say hell,” she forced a laugh, “Even after all this time I still get nightmares about that place,”

“It’s been years since I was introduced to this thing,” he gestured to the metal half of his body, “I still get nightmares from the day it was introduced to me,”

She nodded and tilted her head to the side, “Is it some kind of illness?”

“It’s called the T.O Virus, it’s techno-organic. Turns living tissue into metal tech, very deadly, very painful,” he raised his left arm and examined it. “The only reason this thing hasn’t killed me yet is because of my other abilities,”

“Guess you’re pretty lucky then,”

“Don’t think lucky is the word for it,” he gave her a small smile.

Hayden reached for the teddy bear and handed it to him, “You should take this back, give it to your daughter when you see her again,” 

He held it and stared at it for a moment, “If I see her again,” he cleared his throat, “I used the last of my fuel, might be stuck here for the rest of my days if I don’t find a way to fix the problem,”

“Oh, right,” she paused, “Maybe we can find a way to get you back,”

“Yeah, maybe,” he stood up with the bear in his hand, “Come on, let’s get some breakfast before Wade figures out how to pop his arms back in, it’d be nice to have a peaceful meal for once.”

“I’ll be down in a minute,” he nodded and left the room, she quickly changed into her clothes before searching her room for her phone. Oh that’s right it must still be downstairs. 

She put on a light jacket and then made her way downstairs, only to stop dead in her tracks as she saw Wade sitting on the couch with her phone in his hands. “What the shit do you think you’re doing Wade?” she ran to take back her phone, he dodged her grab and chuckled.

  “Nothing illegal, well if this were Amsterdam I mean,”

Hayden whacked him on the head with one of the pillows, which made him drop the phone in surprise and then she picked it up, “Oh God, Wade!” She dropped it and shook her hand, looking disgusted, Nathan crooked his brow from his seat at the breakfast nook.

“It’s just porn Hayden c’mon, I’m sure you’ve seen porn,”

“That’s a gross violation of someone else’s property.” Nathan said before taking a swig from a protein shake he had just made. 

She picked up the phone again slowly and frowned, turning the device in her hands, “Wait a minute, why is it sticky- Oh you didn’t!” she glared at him. “‘Phone sex’ doesn’t mean having sex with the phone Wade!” she threw the phone at his head, and he rubbed it after yelling out.

               “Keep it, that’s disgusting, I need to wash my hands with bleach.” She moved into the kitchen and grabbed the bleach from the cupboard, and began scrubbing her hands furiously, Nathan shook his head at Wade.

“Well I’ve learned something new today, how about you kids?” Wade beamed as he picked the phone up and pocketed it happily.

“You’re absolutely disgusting.” Nathan remarked as he took another sip of his shake.

“If you think that’s disgusting, what would you think if I told you that I once used your protein shake bottle as a makeshift flesh-light,” he said, “Boy, that was a good night.” He sighed happily.

Nathan choked and spat the liquid food that was in his mouth all over the counter, making Wade bent over clutching his stomach with laughter, he glared at him and his cyborg eye glowed brightly.

“God you should see the look on your face!” he clapped his hands, “Don’t try this at home kids,” he added seriously, looking in the direction of an empty space.

“If, God forbid, if God exists, he allowed a son of a bitch like you to live so long as you have Wilson, I should have left your sorry ass to die.” Nathan growled.

“Why yes I do exist, as witnessed by the handiwork you two have personally experienced,”

Hayden dried her hands off and shook her head at Wade. “I’m revoking your status as Honorary Brother, you’ve gone too far with the,” she shivered, “Flesh-light.”

“What, you’re not being serious? That’s not even the worst of what I could’ve done!” he whined.

“Did you even wash out the bottle after you abused it like you did?” she asked, crossing her arms and looking up at him, clearly knowing what the answer was.

“Erh… Does water count?”

“Jesus.” Nathan scrunched his face in contempt for Wade, and then threw the bottle into the bin. “You’re a pig Wilson,”

“Wade, water doesn’t- you know what, never mind that- I stand by my decision and you can’t change my mind,” she shook her head and then walked out the room.

Nathan left with a huff as well, heading straight to his room so that he could wash out his mouth, and mentally bleach out the images of Wade abusing his protein shake bottle.

                                                                 * * *

                 A few hours later Hayden received a new phone, with help from Negasonic on getting the package delivered to the right place, she wiped down the old phone before she transferred the music files and then gave it back to Wade; she was still quite annoyed with him.

But now she happily sat on the couch listening to her music, scrolling idly on the phone and ignoring the outside world, while Nathan sat across from her reading his newest copy of the ‘Guns and Ammo’ magazine that had also arrived. He disclosed to Hayden the fact that he had gargled a full bottle of mouthwash and wasted thirty minutes of his life getting his mouth clean of ‘Wade’, and she explained that he had one brain cell operating his brain and that’s why he did stupid shit. 

They sat in a comfortable silence, as both knew to respect each other’s boundaries, and something nagged in the back of Hayden’s mind that she shouldn’t get too comfortable as something was bound to happen soon. Cue Wade, who entered the room carrying a large and fully loaded box before dumping it loudly onto the centre coffee table and startling the two of them.

“What are you up to now asshole?” Nathan sighed, placing the magazine on the couch and eyeing at the box suspiciously.

“Well that’s rude Mr Potty-mouth considering I come bearing gifts!” he announced eagerly, rubbing his hands together. “Heh, come.” Nathan rolled his eyes.

Hayden removed her earphones and sat to attention, “What’s all this?”

“Gifts!” Wade grinned.

He looked at her, “I don’t trust him,” 

“Neither do I,” she agreed.

“Aw come on you guys! I’m not always bad,” he started to dig through the box, “Here, I’ll prove it-”

“Wade, I know what you’re doing, and if you think you can sweeten me up, I can tell you it’s not going to work, you understand me?” She walked over to the box and looked at it.

“But I got you a box load of your favourite chocolates!” Wade panicked and showed her the box before putting it next to her, he then unpacked another box, “I even got you microwave popcorn, the extra butter kind that you love!” he looked genuinely upset.

“That doesn’t matter Wade, you can still be my friend, but you’ve lost your title as ‘Honorary Brother’ for good. What you did to Cable was disgustingly indecent, and it’s embarrassing for me to try and cover for your behaviour, especially at that level,” she crossed her arms which only made Wade lower his head.

“I guess I’ll just give these and go,” he pulled out a smaller box and handed it to Nathan, who looked at it warily, “Just take it Arnold,” Wade rolled his eyes.

He slowly opened the box and pulled one of the items out, “A new set of protein shake bottles?” He noticed there were more in the box.

“Yes to replace the one that I- let’s say horribly ruined and leave it at that, shall we?” he rocked on the balls of his feet and looked between them nervously.

“Why?” Nathan asked.

“Because I’m nice!” he pretended to sound offended. “Oh, I almost forgot,” he grabbed a container and handed it to him glumly. “A month’s supply of protein powder to go with it.”

“Wow, that’s actually- decent of you, Wilson,” he looked at the gifts before him.

  “And I’m sorry,” Wade said in a mock Canadian accent, then cleared his throat after seeing Hayden’s expression, “I mean, I apologise for my actions, they were wrong and disgusting. I hope you enjoy your new role that Haydes is probably going to hand to you now-”

“Wade,” Hayden smiled, causing Nathan to frown, and wrapped her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly before letting him go, “You’re an idiot, you think I was really going to remove your title?” 

“You, you weren’t?” he sounded hopeful and his eyes lit up.

“I would never replace you, you’re a damn moron for thinking otherwise,” she shoved his shoulder playfully as she laughed at him, “I just wanted you to apologise for being a major prick, I knew you’d replace his stuff,” she smirked.

“You scheming little-” he smiled, “You’re definitely my sister,” he ruffled her hair and she slapped his hand away, shaking her head and putting an arm over his shoulders. 

“I think life here is gonna to be a lot more tolerable around here if you can manage to keep Wilson in check,” Nathan said as he took his items to the kitchen area, “But I’m still gonna to keep my eye on you after this,” he warned.

                                                                * * *

  Two months after moving into the X-Mansion Wade had asked Hayden to join the new team he had made, and after some convincing Nathan decided it might be a good idea as well.

A few hours ago Hayden had gathered the X-Force together and informed them of a militarised unit that was on their way to one of the cities nearby, and they quickly arranged a plan of defence, and before Nathan could ask how she had gotten the information they were leaving.

 “Oh no, you don’t!” Deadpool stabbed another one of the soldiers in the lower spine, he screamed out in pain before he fell to the ground, paralysed.

There were too many to count, it was like an infestation in the more densely populated outer dwellings of the city, the more they killed the more they seemed to be replaced.

              “Okay seriously where the fuck, are all these assholes coming from?” Deadpool yelled as he shot three soldiers down without missing a beat.

“I don’t know Wade, but right now we need to make sure they don’t get away with anyone,” Hades reminded him, she easily threw a soldier into a group that had come running in.

“Uh, we might have bigger problems than that right now,” Cable said as he nodded in the direction of a tank, it was wheeling through the tight spaces between the buildings and leaving serious damage.

“They brought a motherfucking tan, are they serious?” Deadpool sounded hysterical. “Who do they think they are?”

“A tank?” Hades turned to see the machine just as it stopped in the centre where all the chaos was happening; families were running in all different directions to evade being captured by the soldiers, now the panic had risen with the appearance of this display of weaponry.

The tank aimed its barrel to its target, Hades’ eyes followed the direction and widened as she saw the tiny girl clutching at her stuffed toy at the end of it, the hatch of the tank opened and a man holding a megaphone stood up.

“Attention all citizens, those who do not wish to comply and leave with us, will face the consequences that are about to be demonstrated for you now!" The megaphone clicked off and they heard him clearly yell, "Fire!"

The missile launched in what felt like slow motion and Hades' eyes flashed to violet, Deadpool and Cable turned their heads when they realised she was moving, but they were unable to do anything as they were too far away, she ran forward and leaped into the air as the missile was nearing its target.

“Hayden!" Deadpool yelled with wide eyes as he  ran toward the scene, Cable couldn’t feel his feet at that moment and felt frozen in place.

The missile exploded with so much force that it caused the parked cars nearby to topple over and left a fairly deep dent in the surrounding ground. Deadpool coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to clear away the smoke so that he could see clearer, and Cable shook his head back to reality and ran over.

They both breathed a sigh of relief when they recognised Hades' figure hunched over, she moved her arms away slightly and examined the girl’s face with heavy concern in her glowing eyes, the little girl looked at her in awe.

“What are you?” she asked, staring at Hades' eyes before looking at the glowing scars on her arms.

Suddenly the girl was grabbed away by a pair of hands which made Hades jerk up and stand to attention.

“You get away from her you freak!” the woman spoke shakily as she picked the child up into her arms and clutched her to her chest. “Honey, don’t ever go near people like that, do you understand?” The woman spoke to her child as she carried her away, the girl nodded but kept her gaze on Hades and mouthed the words ‘thank you’.

                   “You people are the reason they came here!”

Hades looked to the ground, her eyes faded back to their usual blue; she looked back up at them with a hurt look in her features.

“Bethany, she just saved your little girl, how could you even say that?” a man stepped forward from the small crowd that had gathered. “We don’t even know what those monsters were after,”

“Yeah, these mutants didn’t even have to come in and save us, but they did,” a woman added.

Cable’s hand reached Hades' shoulder and pulled her back gently as she hadn't moved away, tears were forming in her eyes and she briefly looked at him, before looking at the woman and her daughter again.

“We might be the real monsters, but at least we have some humanity,” Deadpool said as he joined the two, he placed a hand on her free shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "C'mon, we still have work to do,"

“Hey, look out!” 

Click.

                     The men stepped back with wide eyes as they looked at each other, each had a collar around their necks, Deadpool felt around his neck and sighed.

“Fuck not again,”

“Let’s go you three,” the soldiers led them away from the crowd that had run away in fear. 

Hades wasn’t paying attention to her surroundings and made no attempts at resisting their force, while Cable had been trying to shove them off but was shocked into submission and stopped when he realised there was no use; and Deadpool was compliant being in such a feeble state with the collar on, as the cancer came back to him.

“They’ll do perfectly,” one of them remarked, "He'll be pleased,"

They cuffed them just to ensure there would be no trouble and then separated them into three military vehicles, before driving out of the city into what looked like no-man's land.

  A good half an hour into their drive and Hades finally snapped out of her unaware state, she shook her head and realised she had something around her neck, she turned to look out the window and saw an endless stretch of barren sandy land swirling passed.

Shit. She looked around and a slight panic set in. Where the hell is Wade, and Cable? She touched the collar around her neck and looked carefully at the reflection in the window. Damn it’s one of those power dampening collars.

She shuffled in her seat and focused her attention beyond the separation between the guard and herself, seeing another vehicle just ahead of them, she focused harder to make her vision clearer.

Looks like Wade’s not far, they better not have done anything to him.

She reclined in her seat as she noticed her eyes were glowing violet in the reflection, and quickly looked to the ground in case the guard picked up on that, she clenched her hand in a fist and discovered that she still had her strength.

‘I gotta stop ya there buddy, I’m not a mutant,’ She remembered saying that to Colossus when they first met.

  Hades placed her hands around the collar and gripped tightly, the metal began creaking and she could feel something tickling the nerves on her neck, she yanked it off completely and it snapped in two.

“Hey, what’s going on back there?” the guard asked, he glanced back but she was not in his line of sight, and he sat up immediately, “Hey-”

Her hand broke through the thick glass separating them with ease and she turned her arm to hold him around the neck, it snapped it seconds like a twig and the vehicle started to slow a little, she quickly reached into the driver’s section and grabbed the handgun that was tucked in the guard’s holster, shoving it haphazardly into her back pocket, before she pushed at the ceiling of the vehicle and it popped open like a can.

She hauled herself out and climbed to the roof, somehow steadying herself for long enough to jump forward from the roof and tumble onto the ground not far behind the vehicle ahead. The one she had been in swerved off course and came to a stop, but she was already on her feet and running speedily for the next one.

She leaped and grabbed onto a metal ladder that was built into the back of the vehicle and then she pulled herself onto the roof, she crawled carefully to the left and grabbed onto the side before she swung herself through the window to get inside.

                   “What the fuck?” Wade gasped before he smiled, “You beautiful daughter of a bastard- how’d you get out?”

“Not a mutant, remember?” she smiled before she grabbed for his collar, as it buckled it sent out that tickling feeling she had felt earlier, but Wade squirmed and pushed her off.

“You’re going to kill me if you do that,” he wheezed, “It’s sending out electrical currents and shocking me.”

“It is?” she looked at her hands, “So that’s what’s tickling me, um…” she opened the passcode box on the collar and pressed the number seven, the collar beeped and shocked Wade again making him groan.

“I guess that you tried Domino’s code huh?” he asked irritably. “I told you that was lazy writing,” she rolled her eyes.

“We have a breach, repeat we have a breach.” The guard spoke on the other side of the glass.

“That’s not good is it?” Wade asked, she ignored him as she stood up.

Hades shattered the dividing glass and grabbed the handgun from her pocket, she leaned herself halfway through and yelled at the panicked guard in Russian. “You’re going to tell me the passcode for his collar, before I shoot you in the dick!”

“It’s, it’s fi-five-nine-four-two,”

“No, no, no don’t believe the asshole-” Wade whined as she started pressing the numbers in, the collar beeped and shocked Wade, “OW! Fuck. I told you. What did I tell you?”

She gently touched Wade’s cheek and smiled, “Sorry Wade,” and then turned her attention back to the guard. “Okay, we’re going to try again,” she clicked the gun and shot the man in the crotch, it bled profusely and the man screamed and almost swerved the vehicle completely off course. 

                       “And if you’re wrong again, I’m going to shoot you in the fucking head, alright?” she said through gritted teeth.

“You’re really hot when you’re angry like this,” Wade mumbled.

“Way to ruin the moment.” She sighed, “Passcode, now!” She yelled again.

“Eight-seven-five-four! Please don’t kill me!”

  She typed in the passcode and the collar deactivated, she smirked and tossed it to the side, she spun the gun carelessly around her finger, “Hmm, how about, no?”

“Wait, Hades-”

She pulled the trigger behind his head and the guard’s blood splattered everywhere, making the vehicle swerve out of control and rolled into a nearby dip, the pair rolled in the car and collided into each other.

“Ugh... I said wait woman,” Wade groaned, “We could have made him stop and then shot the fucker in the head,”

He climbed out of the now sideways vehicle and brushed the sand off of himself and removed his mask to pour out the sand that had gotten in, and then he extended his hand for her to grab, she took it and he pulled her up, she brushed herself off.

“Thanks,”

“What are brothers for?” he smiled before putting his mask back on. “Now where in the fuck are we?” He placed his hands on his hips and squinted.

She looked around, “That’s an excellent question,”

“Great we’re in the middle of butt fuck nowhere,” he gestured to the third vehicle that was a speck in the distance, “And the only fucking clue we had has fucked off.” Wade could barely contain a laugh that had bubbled up, and she looked at him in confusion. 

                    “Oh they’re so screwed, he’s gonna be a major pain in their ass,”

“Wade be serious,” she smacked him on the arm, “What the hell do they have planned for an actual mutant? We know they wanted normal people to experiment on like Ajax-”

“We agreed to never talk about Francis.”

“Fine, but I’ve a bad feeling about this,” the vehicle disappeared from view and she grabbed his arm, “Let’s get going, while there’s still light out,”

                                                                * * *

                        Cable had no idea how many hours had passed since their capture, he was alone in this particular room that they had forced him into, it was full of equipment that was clearly used for experimentation and he was strapped down to a cushioned slab in the centre of it. His wrists and ankles were strapped down by metal cuffs, and he tried in vain to struggle against them, he could feel the T.O virus moving on the infected side of his body and stilled himself. He knew the virus would only spread if he was moving, and with his telekinesis gone it had the opportunity to do it much quicker. 

A man was hovering around him, he couldn’t see his face but he had a feeling that nothing good was about to come from his visitor; another man interrupted his approach with news.

“Sir, the other two mutants- they’ve escaped,” Cable’s ears pricked at that, and he tried to turn his head to see their expressions, but it was difficult to move at all.

“No matter, this one is a prime specimen, once I’ve examined him I’ll crack open that lovely head of his, that’s where everything comes together,”

“The fuck you will,” he growled.

“Ah,” he laughed and clapped his hands together, “He has a fighter’s spirit, but let me not get affectionate with you. You are merely a project, you might just be a somewhat ideal design of what man and robot can be, but you are superfluous after all,” the man stood behind him now, unexpectedly quiet.

He grunted suddenly, almost biting his tongue, and refused to let a scream escape his mouth as something sharp started to slice along his spine. The new wound burned against the air of the room, while the blood that oozed from it cooled the skin, the metallic smell filled his nostrils and he gritted his teeth through the pain.

“It’s all so beautiful, the way that his cyborg half melds with his human half,” the mad man remarked, and then Cable winced as a hot wet cloth fell over his back, a somewhat pathetic attempt at stopping his bleeding, and he struggled against his restraints.

“I’m not your play thing you sick fuck,” he growled. “You can’t just poke and prod at me like some dead corpse-”

The man chuckled, “I can and already have, and by the end of this you will be just that, a dead corpse. I, of course, have no use for you once I’m done with you.”

The man started pressing buttons on his machine and he had an uneasy feeling start in his stomach, a buzzing sound erupted around him and he waited as someone began to fiddle with cables around him.

Another man had repositioned him into a kneeling position on the floor, as the slab disappeared underneath him, his arms were restrained above him, and his head hung as it was too much effort to hold it up. The cloth slid slowly from his back and he felt more of his blood start to spill out, some of it dripped onto the floor beneath him.

“Argh!” he yelled out as his skin around his chest was being pierced by cold steel, spiked steel rods to be exact and they were then fixed in place under his skin. “When I get out of this I’m gonna kill-”

A switch was flicked and he closed his eyes as an electrical current surged through his body, it heated his blood and made his mechanical half twitch beyond his level of tolerance while the muscles of his human half spasmed. He roared under the duress, closing his eyes and praying that the T.O virus wouldn’t take its chance to spread. 

The man was laughing maniacally as he watched Cable writhe about, before he turned the current on a higher setting, his laughter was cut off by a loud bang and the others were screaming. Cable took no notice as struggled to keep his focus, but he could hear them running around in a blind panic as shots were fired behind him.

“Wade, go and turn that thing off, now!” He heard a familiar voice order, “Let me deal with this piece of fuck.”

“Stop it! You’re ruining everything you fools!” The man screamed as Deadpool turned the machine off, Cable let out a shaky breath and struggled to raise his head to see what was happening, black spots appeared in his vision wherever he looked. 

“You’re just making this easier for me pal,” she forced the man to his knees, and rested the gun between his eyes. “I would’ve loved to prolong this, but you don’t deserve to take another breath you worthless piece of crap. I just wanted to see the light leave your eyes,” 

She pulled the trigger and the bullet went through the man’s skull and into the floor behind him, his dead body fell to the floor, and she hurried over to Cable without looking back and crouched down to his level.

  “Hey Cable, you still with us?” she gently touched his face as she made him look her in the eyes, he could barely focus on her face.

“Yeah,” He managed.

“Good.” She removed her hand and looked at the steel rods, before looking at him again, “This is going to hurt a lot, sorry in advance,” She grabbed the rods and pulled them out quickly, sending sharp shooting pains through his body and making him shudder. “Sorry,” she spoke softly, “There.”

“Um, Haydes?” Wade called as he walked over.

“What, Wade?” she asked without looking, now annoyed, while unbuckling his restraints. Once he was free he rested his hands against the floor, still on his knees.

“Did you get the passcode for Cable’s collar? Cause I sure as hell didn’t,”

“Shit.” she straightened up.

“What?” Nathan frowned between the two of them.

“The passcode was the only way to get the collar off without hurting you, but now I have no choice,” she moved her hands so that her fingers slid in the gap between his neck and the collar, he heard a creaking sound as she tugged carefully, “Sorry.” 

She moved her hands apart quickly and the collar sent a massive current through his body, thankfully the steel rods were not in place anymore, but his cyborg half still allowed it to linger.

                  “Cable, you alright?” she asked in concern, he barely nodded his head, his breathing was however staggered and his arms were shaking as they kept him falling to the floor. “Shit, you’re not.”

The next thing he knew was that he was off the ground, and the last thing he saw as he was blacking out was Hades’ violet eyes as she carried him out.

                     He didn’t recall waking up and making his way down to the kitchen, but at some point he must have done, because he was now sitting in the rec room on the couch and trying to clean himself. Hayden was busy eating something and had spoken to him but he didn’t hear her.

He winced as he tried to reach the cloth to the new scarring on his back, it had healed considerably through means he did not know, but his muscles still ached and he was struggling to do his task. 

Hayden sighed from the kitchen and walked over, “Give.” She held her hand out, he looked at her, “I asked if you needed help, you said no, and you clearly do, now give you stubborn old man,” 

He begrudgingly gave the cloth to her, “Did you really speak to me?”

“Yeah, like two minutes ago, you don’t remember?” she asked as she sat behind him.

He shook his head, “No, I guess I was out of it, sorry,” he mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it,” she gently wiped the cloth over the bloodied scarring, “You were lucky you know, your wound stopped bleeding somehow on our way back,” he was surprised at how gentle she was, both in the way she touched him and how she spoke to him now. 

“You reckon?” he turned his head slightly as she started to press the cloth, but eased up when he had moved, he relaxed a little and turned back. 

“Yeah, we thought you were halfway dead by the time we got back,”

He tensed when something small and soft pressed against the top of his spine where the cut started from his neck, although uncertain of what it was, his muscles relaxed again and he somehow felt more at ease.

“There, was that so hard?” He caught her smiling which in turn made him smile, before she grabbed the other small towel and gently dabbed the wound dry. “You know, any more blood loss and you would’ve been a goner.”

“Mhm,” He agreed, his eyes now closed as he was enjoying the moment.

When he opened his eyes again he was startled to see her sitting in front of him and she chuckled in amusement.

                   “What?” he asked defensively.

“Didn’t mean to startle you, just checking that you didn’t miss something. Infections aren’t a joke you know,” she examined his arms and lifted them before examining his ribs, he noticed her eyes glowing violet again and she got annoyed with his staring, “What?”

“Your eyes,”

“Oh, I just see better this way,” she shrugged his question off, “Alright, now let’s just make sure that he didn’t make you uglier than you already were.”

She cupped his face and looked over his features; her thumbs brushed his cheeks and moved down his jawline, his breath hitched in his chest as he waited patiently. He swallowed hard as he watched her eyes scan over every crease and scar on his face, and he wasn’t altogether sure why he was feeling as nervous as he did.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa what’s happening here? Didn’t realise I’d need to knock before I came to the rec room,” Wade’s voice filled the room, making them both straighten up in their seats. 

Hayden’s eyes flicked back to bright blue in seconds, her hands moved to her sides and she stood up. “I was just making sure he wouldn’t get an infection, dumbass. It’s easy for older people to get ill that way.” She cleared her throat before she walked out the room.

“I wouldn’t worry about her calling you old,” Wade assured, as Nathan watched her leave and his face turned into a scowl.

“Why the hell would I worry about that?” he grunted, making Wade roll his eyes.

“Alright fine, whatever,” he raised his hands, “But both of you can tell me I was right once you’re over the whole ‘yearning from a distance’ bullshit, and you two finally bone.” he shook his head.

“Asshole,” he muttered as he stood from the couch, he walked upstairs to his own room and closed the door behind him.

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