#the dead wife rag theory
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starspangledbatter · 2 months ago
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⭐️ “Dead Wife Rag”???: The Amazing Digital Circus Theory ⭐️
⭐️ About a day or two ago, Gooseworx released the entire soundtrack of episodes 3 and 4. Excited, I went and prepared to explore each and every one of the tracks individually. That is, until something strange caught my eye. This thing specifically, was a name for one of the latest tracks titled “Dead Wife Rag”. ⭐️
Now, this name could simply just mean rag. Rag as in a syncopated rhythm. But what if “Dead Wife Rag” is actually a double entendre? Let me explain…
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🌟 You see, Gooseworx seems to title her tracks based off of the scene her tunes takes place in. “Character Quirks” plays during the living room scene where the characters show off what happens when they don’t breathe. “Still Friends” plays during the moment where Zooble comforts Gangle and admits that they are still Gangle’s friend, regardless of what happened at Spudsy’s. ⭐️
Now, knowing this information, the time and place where Gooseworx’s tracks take place seem to hold prominence in the track’s title names. So, knowing this, where exactly does “Dead Wife Rag” play within the series?
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⭐️ Here. This is the scene where this track plays. The scene where a dead wife, Martha Mildenhall, explains to Ragatha that her husband accidentally kills her with his gun, while telling her about men and their “silliest priorities”. This scene follows with Ragatha turning to Jax, agreeing with Martha that she knows the feeling of dealing with a man who puts his own feelings over anyone else’s. ⭐️
Now, why does this matter? Well, what if I were to tell you that “Dead Wife Rag” actually means “Dead Wife Ragatha”, and that’s what makes the name a double entendre. This isn’t just my Bunnydoll bias speaking here. I actually mean it. Consider this.
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⭐️ Jax’s episode is described as “guns!”. A gun is the thing that Baron uses to kill Martha, resulting in her demise ⭐️
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⭐️ Gooseworx has said in the past that she “apologizes to the Bunnydoll shippers”, meaning that there’s something that could happen in the future that may strain their relationship, which could possibly involve abstraction. ⭐️
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⭐️ When asked how Jax would react towards Ragatha abstracting or going missing, Michael Kovach responds with a tragic but surprising response (go to the 1:25:45 mark). He states that if Jax realized that Ragatha abstracted, he would be devastated. This is because Ragatha was someone he knew the entire time during his time at the circus. He would then continue to repress these feelings and pretend that everything is fine (like he did with Kaufmo, the stressful aftermath at Spudsy’s etc). ⭐️
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⭐️ Jax’s episode (the gun episode) will explore each and every character, showing the audience how their personalities have changed amongst being at the circus. Maybe Ragatha and Jax used to be closer in the past? Maybe they weren’t always at each other’s throats? ⭐️
⭐️ So, where does this all lead to? What does all of this mean? Well, what if Jax does something in the future that hurts Ragatha emotionally. Something irredeemable, something unforgiving. What if Jax causes Ragatha to accidentally abstract, leaving the circus to cope with the death of one of their longest-surviving members? ⭐️
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⭐️ Like Kinger said “In this world, the worst thing you can do is... make someone think they're not wanted or loved”. The worst thing you can do to Ragatha is make her feel hated or unloved. She doesn’t want Jax to hate her, despite how she feels about him and his actions. Jax always seems to push away others and constantly uses them for his entertainment. The only time he actually thinks about anyone but himself is during times that lack distraction. Maybe he says something that convinces Ragatha that he hates her. She believes in the one thing she can’t live with acknowledging. ⭐️
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The guns aren’t actually guns. The guns are a symbol for a device or an event that leads to the accidental demise of a loved one. Kinger isn’t the only parallel to Baron. Jax is Baron. Ragatha is Martha. She’s “Dead Wife Rag” and he’ll have to live with what he has done. For the rest of his life.
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xvince-heliotropex · 3 months ago
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Mordecai and Viktor, their debit to Atlas.
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Mordecai got himself in a mess for reasons I think most people would understand. His involvement with his last employer didn't end so well. This ultimately put Mordecai right to Atlas.
I have a theory about the day Atlas and Mordecai met.
Atlas was supposed to kill Mordecai.
Atlas spared Mordecai that day because he was useful. You mean some kid with oversized rags for clothing robbed him! Mordecai was more useful alive than dead. Atlas grew a liking to Mordecai like a father and son over time...
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Mordecai learned fast and was pretty damn good at near anything Atlas assigned him to do.
But what about Viktor??
Bobby goes on to explain to Ivy how Atlas bailed Viktor out of jail after the labor worker riots. Atlas got him a good damn lawyer and bought Viktor out of jail. The condition Viktor had to work off his debit to Atlas...
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Just how much debit was there?
Did Viktor even know how much debit he owed Atlas.
With the years of back breaking labor and helping Atlas build his underground empire, he woren Viktor to the bone. With the war, riots, and now this. Viktor was back at it again with the blood shed. Something he was forced to comply with to pay back his debits.
Why wasn't Mordecai in debit.
It was a different kind of debit, the one where Mordecai could math his way out if he made Atlas more money, and I believe he did. Bonus, he was a sharp shooter. Making both Viktor and Mordecai the perfect side kicks in his growing empire of crime.
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I do believe over the years with Viktor and Mordecai as partners in crime. Mordecai learned from Viktor, and maybe a part of him felt bad for Viktor. He had to leave his wife and child behind and was treated badly for being a working migrant who fought in the great war.
Mordecai, being a migrant himself, grew up dirt poor and had to leave his own family behind.
I believe those two bonded over their shared pain. The difference is that Mordecai was given golden boy treatment with Atlas. Viktor was treated very differently....
Mordecai felt for Viktor.
When Mordecai is having his past bought up to by serafine, he remarks on her with this.
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She wouldn't understand anything.
His deep feelings twords Viktor was something most people even Atlas could never understand.
Atlas death affected everyone.
Mordecai having the urge to seek who killed him is his own choice. However, Viktors debit to Atlas had ended, his debit to the lackadaisy had ended.
Viktor had lost everything.
Retirement wasn't on his mind because where could he go? But he may still have felt he still owed Atlas.
Mordecai tried reasoning with Viktor to retire, but I could see this becoming an aggressive argument between them. Kneecapping Viktor was the only thing. Mordecai did so to save Viktor, to keep Ivy and Elsa from harm. He had people who could care for him.
Viktor's debit had been paid.
(Throwing this out there)
I wanna believe Mordecai planned to keep Viktor financially well. Like he did with his own family.
Viktor could retire and live a comfortable life. Something Mordecai would have wanted him to do as his debit was already paid off many years ago. Mordecai, having his friend live in comfort with no worries, never having to work another day would have been his goal. Mordecai would send him money and check on him from time to time. (At least I think that was Mordecai's plan he hoped Viktor would agree to... but it didn't end as he hoped)
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burningvelvet · 1 year ago
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A very long analysis on Heathcliff, his relationships, and his origins: or, how Wuthering Heights drove me insane :)
Links to my previous WH analysis (which aren't required to read this post!): 1) my post analyzing heathcliff & his relationships with cathy2.0/isabella/hareton / 2) smaller post analyzing heathcliff & the earnshaws in relation to theories about his parentage / 3) misc. heathcliff/cathy analysis
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On Heathcliff's origins, his mysteriousness, and his arrival to Wuthering Heights:
As I mention in that 2nd link, I think the theory of Heathcliff being Mr. Earnshaw's son is an interesting theory of conjecture because even if not true (and it probably isn't) it allows us to more deeply explore the generally accepted basis of the canon, which is that Heathcliff is not related to them, but nevertheless is still caught between the labels of "family" and "outsider," just like he would have been if he had indeed been a bastard, a step-child, or even more formally adopted. Under Mr. Earnshaw's wishes Heathcliff shares a room with the children, he is given equal gifts and clothes as them, and he is preferred over Hindley. And while he may not be in line to inherit legally, he ends up inheriting anyway, an idea which lends itself to the novels Joseph-approved theme of predeterminism/fate.
So I'm not dead-set on any singular interpretation or theory as to Heathcliff's role in the story or the details of his background. Much of his character is inherently mysterious: his race and age are unknown, his family history and origins are unknown, what he was doing for 3 years of Cathy's marriage and how he acquired his wealth are unknown, some of his feelings and motives are highly debatable (as I discussed in my post about his odd dynamics with Cathy 2.0, Isabella, & Hareton: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/738901817580290048/my-analysis-on-heathcliff-and-his-relationships), & whether English was his first language is also questioned (many people including myself have wondered at the line where we're told he "repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand," though it could have just been panicked child's speech).
Many academics have noted how Wuthering Heights follows various testaments of the Gothic literary tradition, not only by the involvement of death, violence, ghosts, etc., but also in the use of incestuous themes (whether literal or metaphorical) and the use of the Other in Heathcliff, aided by the mysteries of his origins and his racial ambiguity.
As for Heathcliff not revealing much about his childhood, I believe this part of it could be due to trauma as well as regular childhood amnesia. He may not remember anything. A lot of people don't have many memories from before the age of ~6 anyway — and I just looked it up— his real age is never given but he is believed to be around the same age than Cathy who was described as "hardly six years old." I had thought they were a little older for some reason. He's also said to have been "speaking gibberish" which I once considered may have been indicative of a foreign language and/or accent but now, because of his age and probable low background, it may have been due to his just being very young and maybe unsocialized and shy. It actually makes my heart ache when Nelly describes him :(
Here's an excerpt from chapter 3 describing Heathcliff's childhood:
"He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed—he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms.
'And at the end of it to be flighted to death!' he said, opening his great-coat, which he held bundled up in his arms. 'See here, wife! I was never so beaten with anything in my life: but you must 'en take it as a gift of God; though it's as dark almost as if it came from the devil.'"
We crowded round, and over Miss Cathy's head I had d peep at a dirty, ragged, black-haired child; big enough both to walk and talk: indeed, its face looked older than Catherine's; yet when it was set on its feet, it only stared round, and repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand. I was frightened, and Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad? The master tried to explain the matter; but he was really half dead with fatigue, and all that I could make out, amongst her scolding, was a tale of his seeing it starving, and houseless, and as good as dumb, in the streets of Liverpool, where he picked it up and inquired for its owner. Not a soul knew to whom it belonged, he said; and his money and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at once, than run into vain expenses there: because he was determined he would not leave it as he found it. Well, the conclusion was, that my mistress grumbled herself calm; and Mr. Earnshaw told me to wash it, and give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children.
Hindley and Cathy contented themselves with looking and listening till peace was restored: then, both began searching their father's pockets for the presents he had promised them. The former was a boy of fourteen, but when he drew out what had been a fiddle, erushed to morsels in the great-coat, he blubbered aloud; and Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might be gone on the morrow. By chance, or else attracted by hearing his voice, it crept to Mr. Earnshaw's door, and there he found it on quitting his chamber. Inquiries were made as to how it got there; I was obliged to confess, and in recompense for my cowardice and inhumanity was sent out of the house.
This was Heathcliff's first introduction to the family. On coming back a few days afterwards (for I did not consider my banishment perpetual), I found they had christened him 'Heathcliff': it was the name of a son who died in child-hood, and it has served him ever since, both for Christian and surname. Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with him shamefully: for I wasn't reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged.
He seemed a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff strangely, believing all he said (for that matter, he said precious little, and generally the truth), and petting him up far above Cathy, who was too mischievous and wayward for a favourite.
So, from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house; and at Mrs. Earnshaw's death, which happened in less than two years after, the young master had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his paren's affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries. I sympathised a while; but when the children fell ill of the measles, and I had to tend them, and take on me the cares of a woman at once, I changed my idea. Heathcliff was dangerously sick; and while he lay at the worst he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn't wit to guess that I was compelled to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble."
From this excerpt we see that Earnshaw 1) despite being racist toward Heathcliff, is also wildly protective of him - so much so that he kicks Nelly out of the house FOR DAYS for initially not allowing Heathcliff to sleep in his childrens room 2) Earnshaw doesn't like Cathy that much, and prefers Heathcliff over her; later when he dies he has a nice moment with her, but still asks her why she can't be a better child (lol) 3) Earnshaw did not name Heathcliff on his own accord but Heathcliff is named after Earnshaw's own son that died!!! And that says a lot; we're also never really told how Mrs. Earnshaw felt about him being named after her dead kid, or if she had a part in it or not, or if she grew to like Heathcliff too — she just dies soon after - however, I think we can all assume she always favored Hindley over Heathcliff, since we're told Hindley's jealousy grew after her death 4) Heathcliff is described by Earnshaw as a "gift from God" which I find kind of suspicious because Earnshaw struggled so much just to get him home... um, God had no part in that, Mr. - unless he's referring to the kids existence imo. At any rate, if Heathcliff isn't biologically related to Earnshaw, we're still led to have the sense that Heathcliff is sort of predestined to be there 5) Heathcliff was indeed a bit scraggly/unkempt when he arrived, but imo that doesn't mean he was necessarily a homeless orphan; if he did have a mother/family, they probably would have been living in harsh conditions anyway just by being impoverished, and if not, maybe he was just a bit dirty from wandering outside like normal kids do, and like he's so fond of doing anyway on the Moors later on - he could have just been playing outside when this white guy comes along and takes him under his coat! 6) Earnshaw says he asked around for the kids parents and felt obligated to take him on, though the kid was struggling... so yeah, regardless of if he's omitting other info or if he's his father or not, we can infer that he essentially kidnapped Heathcliff.
After re-reading this excerpt, I don't think it's as likely that Earnshaw had seen/known Heathcliff personally prior to his taking him home, but I still don't think any of this totally disproves the theory that Earnshaw could have been lying to Mrs. Earnshaw/omitting certain information.
Why was Mr. Earnshaw in Liverpool to begin with? I and many others often assume it was some sort of a business trip, and it probably was, but after re-reading the part where he leaves, I can't actually find anything to definitively confirm what he was actually there for. He could have been in Liverpool specifically to take Heathcliff with him. Another thing that doesn't make any sense is the fact that he walked all the way there alone: "I’m going to Liverpool today, what shall I bring you? You may choose what you like: only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back: sixty miles each way, that is a long spell!’"
He's then gone for 3 whole days. Meaning according to him, he walked 120 miles in 3 days, half of that while carrying/dragging a struggling small child, who he says he took because it would be his easiest option: "his money and time being both limited, he thought it better to take it home with him at once, than run into vain expenses there."
He's contradicting himself, because if he was so concerned about finances then he never would have taken on another child, as Mrs. Earnshaw immediately supplies (meaning if he was on a mission to retrieve Heathcliff, he didn't tell her): "Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad?" Ummmm you're telling me there isn't something a little suspicious or weird about any of this?!
And why would he be walking in the first place when he has horses — was he really so tight on money as to not want to support/feed them on a journey, or did he just not want to be recognized or attract attention, or did he not want to deal with a child riding on a horse for the first time? I assume carriages/wagons were out of the question for costs, and I know people walked a lot back then, especially in rural farmlands, but that is a very long journey as he himself says. What was so important? Did he even go to Liverpool at all? And why did he bundle Heathcliff up as if to hide him? To avoid suspicions about having a bastard child, etc.? And we're told Mrs. Earnshaw was expecting him home earlier, and we get no indication if she knew Mr. Earnshaw's plans or whereabouts.
And why does Mr. Earnshaw act so upbeat and nonchalant about all of this, when we're told he's usually really stern? Ie he supposedly treats Nelly well eg, telling her he'll bring her back fruits on his journey, but then he LOCKS HER OUT OF THE HOUSE FOR MULTIPLE DAYS for not following his orders about putting Heathcliff in the children's room on his first night there.
Where tf did she even go lol? Am I forgetting some part about her family having a nearby house? How far did she have to walk to get there, alone and unaccompanied as a young woman? Probably less than 120 miles in 3 days, but still! He's known Nelly her whole life, and he's supposedly known Heathcliff for a day (in which time Heathcliff has already led him into physical exhaustion), and yet he already prefers Heathcliff over her as well as his own children.
Even excusing Nelly being a narrator of debatable reliability, and being sometimes contradictory & biased against Heathcliff, Mr. Earnshaw's behavior still seems a bit outlandish and it makes sense that Mrs. Earnshaw would ask him if he had gone mad. I course, I may be looking too far into this, but how can I not?
Heathcliff's trauma, his relationship with Mr. Earnshaw, Earnshaw as kidnapper, and race:
I think Heathcliff is certainly severely traumatized. I'm not a psychologist but Nelly's line "hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble" is textbook childhood CPTSD, and it is partly due to Earnshaw indeed being a kidnapper with a white saviour/"white man's burden" complex.
I think the following quote by Nelly supports this kidnap view, in that she actually refers to him being kidnapped; Emily may also be encouraging us to speculate on even the most outlandish theories of his origins like Nelly does:
"‘A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,’ I continued, ‘if you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing, and combing, and sulking—tell me whether you don’t think yourself rather handsome? I'll tell you, I do. You're fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each of them able to buy up, with one week’s income, Wuthering Heights and Thrushcross Grange together? And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors and brought to England. Were I in your place, I would frame high notions of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!'"
Like in Charlotte's Jane Eyre, Emily also borrows taboo Romantic and Orientalist imagery and racializes the gothic Other figure, because this idea of the foreign/non-white body was a source of anxiety to a lot of white British Victorian readers. This is a popular concept in Gothic literary studies & a lot has been written on it, so I won't go into it too much.
Like Charlotte's Bertha Mason, Linton Heathcliff's identity as being mixed race is essential to his character — in the narrative, him being white-passing is supposed to relate to his identity being more Isabella/Linton (as also evidenced by his name) and less Heathcliff's, who is disappointed not to see his own resemblance in his son.
Since we seriously don't know Heathcliff's true origins, we can't ascertain his ethnicity (given his descriptions/epithets/Nelly's speculations, he is likely fully or part Roma, South-Asian, or African), and we can't tell if he or his family/mother were highborn, enslaved, or simply free, but we do know that slavery was still very active in England in the late 1700s when Heathcliff is a child, and his hometown Liverpool was the center of the slave trade, so connections to slavery either ancestrally or during his hiatus (a popular theory, explored in the book Heathcliff: the Lost Years by David Drum) are possible.
More evidence for the theory of Heathcliff having a previous history of child abuse and unknown early trauma, possibly relating to the slave trade (which doesn't necessarily discount the Earnshaw parentage theory either imo, and if anything may make it more likely if his reasoning for taking Heathcliff was that he wouldn't want his biological son enslaved) — is the portion where Nelly describes Heathcliff and how he initially took Hindley's abuse stoically:
". . . a sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment: he would stand Hindley's blows without winking or shedding a tear, and my pinches moved him only to draw in a breath and open his eyes, as if he had hurt himself by accident, and nobody was to blame. This endurance made old Earnshaw furious, when he discovered his son persecuting the poor fatherless child, as he called him. He took to Heathcliff strangely . . ."
When Nelly adds that Earnshaw called Heathcliff "poor fatherless child," I see this as ironic whether Earnshaw is his biological father or not, since he is still the closest thing he has to any sort of "father figure" nominally, and symbolically in line with the view of Earnshaw as flawed micro-colonizer. In the act of standing up for Heathcliff over his own teenage son and future master of the house, he is basically acting as a pseudo-father preferring one son over another; for Hindley, the blow is deepened by Heathcliff not being Earnshaw's son in name.
For clarity's sake, whenever I refer to Mr. Earnshaw as Heathcliff's unofficially adoptive father or father figre, I do so sort of hesitatingly. Mr. Earnshaw/Heathcliff do not have a regular father/son dynamic; we're told that Heathcliff did not embrace but rather fought Mr. Earnshaw the entire 60 miles back to the Heights.
Surely the above may be hyperbole, but we must keep in mind that Mr. Earnshaw's gifts for Cathy/Hindley/Nelly were lost or destroyed in the process: most symbolically, Mr. Earnshaw's struggle to obtain Heathcliff led to Hindley's fiddle being broken, Cathy's whip being lost, and we're never told what happened to Nelly's gift of fruit, but we can assume it was lost or never got to be obtained as a result of his preoccupation.
Heathcliff's relationship with Mr. Earnshaw is complicated because of the racial power imbalance & as I said, Earnshaw having a white saviour complex & basically kidnapping Heathcliff despite (or so we're told) not fully knowing if Heathcliff had a family or not. Most important are Heathcliff's own feelings about the situation; Earnshaw's wild affection is clear.
We're told by Nelly's observations that Heathcliff clearly did not have a great love for Earnshaw: "I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes."
When Mr. Earnshaw was dying, Heathcliff was sitting with Cathy who was singing to Earnshaw. When they realize Earnshaw has finally passed, Heathcliff seems to genuinely grieve as equally as Cathy (Hindley is at college at this time):
"The poor thing discovered her loss directly — she screamed out — 'Oh, he's dead, Heathcliff! he's dead!' And they both set up a heart-breaking cry." Later when Nelly returns from getting help: "I ran to the children's room: their door was ajar, I saw they had never lain down, though it was past midnight; but they were calmer, and did not need me to console them. The little souls were comforting each other with better thoughts than I could have hit on: no parson in the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their innocent talk . . ."
Yet we also know by Heathcliff's odd dynamics with Nelly and Hareton, and even by some of his behavior around Catherine I (who is the only person that most of us can agree he really loves), we can see that, probably due to trauma, Heathcliff does not know how to show affection "normally."
By his earlier disconnected reactions to Hindley's abuse, we can see that early on he had trouble reacting to negative emotions as well, which probably led him to his later emotional dysregulation & bursts of rage/frustration, which make complete sense in his situation and are why we can still often sympathize with him in his path of vengeance, even despite his abusiveness.
So we do not know the full extent of Heathcliff's feelings toward Mr. Earnshaw, and whether he truly had deep affection for him or somewhat resented him, but whatever his feelings were, they were clearly complex. As we all know, Heathcliff is capable of feeling very strongly, and when he does, he is usually vocal about it (see: literally most of his dialogue). He can't go 30 seconds without roasting someone lol. But he is oddly ambivalent and quiet about Earnshaw.
You could also (& countless academics have) argue that Earnshaw/the Earnshaw family is essentially a microcosm of colonization, Heathcliff is symbolically captured/enslaved by Mr. Earnshaw (which highlights how white saviourism is oxymoronic), and then actually becomes almost literally enslaved by Hindley later on.
On Heathcliff and Hindley:
Both are extremely flawed. Both are wildly in love with women who die from labor, both become abusive single fathers, both are defined by their grief and feelings of revenge, both want to kill each other all throughout the story, both actually try to do so to varying extents. Heathcliff saves Hareton from Hindley's negligence by catching him, Hindley saves Isabella from Heathcliff's abuse by tackling the latter (in what I think is one of the novels best sequences, Isabella's narration of the period of Heathcliff and Hindley's fighting and her escape). Heathcliff's bond with Hareton, like Hindley's bond with Isabella, is both manipulative and touching in turns. Ditto for their bonds to Nelly.
Many people believe Heathcliff had a role to play, directly or indirectly, in Hindley's death. Evidence for this: 1) teen Heathcliff wishes Hindley could drink himself to death but acknowledges doctor Kenneth says he won't: "‘It’s a pity he cannot kill himself with drink,’ observed Heathcliff, muttering an echo of curses back when the door was shut. ‘He’s doing his very utmost; but his constitution defies him. Mr. Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he’ll outlive any man on this side Gimmerton, and go to the grave a hoary sinner; unless some happy chance out of the common course befall him.’" 2) later, Kenneth remarks to Nelly that "He's barely twenty-seven, it seems; that's your own age: who would have thought you were born in one year?'" 3) Joseph once accused Heathcliff of attempting to murder Hindley during their fight ("And so ye've been murthering on him?") - in which Isabella said Heathcliff had to barely restrain himself from not killing Hindley. Joseph later adds suspicion to Hindley's death when, after Heathcliff explains to Nelly how Hindley had been suffering from the effects of alcoholism but died suddenly in the morning, Joseph "confirmed this statement, but muttered: "I'd rayther he'd goan hisseln for t' doctor! I sud ha' taen tent o' t' maister better nor him—and he warn't deead when I left, naught o' t' soart!'" (trans. from WH Reader's Guide site: "'I'd rather he'd gone himself for the doctor! I would have taken care of the master better than him—and he wasn't dead when I left, nothing of the sort!'"). So Heathcliff told Joseph to fetch Kenneth which left Heathcliff alone with Hindley, who was then dead when Joseph/Kenneth arrived.
My own theory is that Hindley probably choked on his own vomit (a common form of death by addiction) because of Heathcliff's description of he and Joseph finding Hindley "snorting like a horse; and there he was, laid over the settle: flaying and scalping would not have wakened him." It is after this that Heathcliff is alone with Hindley and he dies. Heathcliff can be seen as guilty through inaction imo, though he would justify it by saying he was letting nature take its course.
Heathcliff and Hindley take turns enslaving each other throughout the story. Hindley's seniority, legitimacy, and race give him advantages, while Heathcliff's early favoritism by Mr. Earnshaw and his later accrual of wealth, wit, and strength give him some advantages. We're told by Nelly (and she's biased, but she's the main source we have) that Hindley bullied Heathcliff immediately, to which Heathcliff weaponized Mr. Earnshaw in his favor, as evidenced by the horse scene.
If, when Hindley returned to become master of Wuthering Heights after Mr. Earnshaw's death, his wife Frances had taken a liking to Heathcliff, or if Hindley had simply matured in his time away — in other words, if Hindley had decided to grow up and let bygones be bygones — I wonder if Heathcliff would have done the same, and decided to be peaceful & not to continue their childhood rivalry.
The bulk of Heathcliff's lust for revenge really stems from Hindley's treatment of him after Mr. Earnshaw's death, when Hindley, as the new Mr. Earnshaw, really does follow through on that childhood promise during the horse scene to use his wealth/power/independence to render Heathcliff miserable, and to turn him out or keep him enslaved. Possibly at the beckoning of Frances (which I mention later,) Hindley succeeds in fulfilling this childish power fantasy, and this is partly what inspires Heathcliff to obtain the means of flipping the script and later rendering Hindley a weakened dependent.
Although Hindley is racist/absorbed his parents racism, note that Catherine was not/did not, and so Hindley's true hatred of Heathcliff imo is more motivated by jealousy/envy for his father's affection than it is anything else, & his own feelings of inadequacy & self-hatred which likely would have existed anyway & were just fuelled by being "usurped" in his father's affection.
I really blame Mr. (& Mrs., though we sadly have so little insight into her character) Earnshaw for Hindley/Heathcliff's rivalry, because I feel like we can assume Mrs. Earnshaw must have favored Hindley more when Mr. Earnshaw started favoring Heathcliff, considering Hindley's hatred increased after the grief from his mother's death, — and this favoritism & parental split is bound to deepen the split between their favorites.
Hindley's hatred of Heathcliff really increased after his father & then his wife's deaths (meaning he had prolonged complex grief), which I'm assuming compounded & brought back his feelings of his original grief for his mother, resulting in further hatred of Heathcliff who had nothing to do with any of it but whose arrival Hindley just subconsciously associated with his mother's illness/death & his father's emotional abandonment (which we could consider a mental death which took place before his physical death; imo Hindley's whole character is defined by grief).
To enhance their pseudo-brotherly rivalry, which some may say is reminiscent of Abel/Cain (especially if you believe the theory/opinion that Heathcliff murdered Hindley or was otherwise in any part to blame for his death), we again have the fact that Heathcliff was named after Hindley's dead brother.
Heathcliff is actually Heathcliff 2.0, and maybe it was Mr. Earnshaw's grief that led him to use Heathcliff 2.0 as a replacement child the way Hindley uses Mrs. Earnshaw 2.0 as a replacement mother.
All throughout the story we have people being named after each other and taking on each other's roles, ie the whole 1st/2nd generation parallels (we could extend it to be 1st/2nd/3rd since I've highlighted the narrative importance of Mr./Mrs. Earnshaw), Linton Heathcliff, Cathy 1.0/2.0. — but we know nothing about Heathcliff 1.0 other than that he died in childhood.
Was he Catherine's age, younger, or older? Did Catherine see Heathcliff as a replacement brother? Did Heathcliff 1.0 die before Catherine was born? Was he Hindley's age? Did Hindley already have grief/trauma from Heathcliff 1.0's death and resent Heathcliff 2.0 for usurping not only him, but his dead brother's place?
We're told that "the family" gave Heathcliff 2.0 his name, but I assume Mrs. Earnshaw and Hindley may not have been involved due to us never seeing that they care for him — and Joseph may have had a role in it, but he's also rarely thoughtful, and Nelly was gone — so could Cathy have suggested the name Heathcliff? (which brings to my mind Edward Rochester telling Jane Eyre to "give him his name" when he proposes to her, asking her to call him "Edward" — this would be poetic of Catherine/Heathcliff's relationship).
The meaning of the names Heathcliff/Hindley are very similar; they also share the same initials, syllable count, and the "ee" sound. Heathcliff is a combination of "heath" (a synonym for "moor"; what he and Cathy love to roave on) and "cliff." In meaning, apparently (according to some sources on Ancestry.com) Hindley is a habitational name from hind 'hind, female deer' and lēah 'woodland clearing' — which is basically another way of saying heath/moor. So there is a lot of similarity in their names, and this tainted brotherly theme, both of which must have been intentional.
Regardless of whether Heathcliff & Hindley are foster brothers or half-brothers, this naming choice is still a sign that Heathcliff was predestined to be part of the family, and lends itself to the other themes of predeterminism in that Heathcliff ends up becoming the master of the Heights after Hindley the way he would have if he were his biological brother.
Mr. Earnshaw telling Hindley he'd bring him back any gift he chose, and then returning with that gift having been broken by Heathcliff, are ample reasons to explain the hatred that moody 14-year-old Hindley immediately feels for him, who was about half his age and therefore an impractical playmate. He is more like a new sibling, and like an older sibling, Hindley is horrified at being overshadowed by the family's new addition. Since we don't know whether Hindley knew or was close to Heathcliff 1.0, we can hesitantly assume he may have been upset by the naming.
On Heathcliff, Hindley, and Frances:
I would like to briefly touch more on Hindley's wife's death (so closely followed by his fathers death) bringing up feelings of his mothers death. Hindley's wife Frances Earnshaw is the second Mrs. Earnshaw and she only comes to the house right after Mr. Earnshaw dies. I believe Hindley parallels his father, Frances parallels his mother (so like many men, he metaphorically "married his mother"), and that Frances also has some similarities to Heathcliff.
Frances has an unknown origin story and Hindley keeps her background from his father on purpose, and this could have been intended to parallel the first Mr. Earnshaw from possibly keeping Heathcliff's origins vague: "What she was, and where she was born, he never informed us: probably, she had neither money nor name to recommend her, or he would scarcely have kept the union from his father."
Frances also immediately dislikes Heathcliff... just like Hindley's mother, the first Mrs. Earnshaw, did: "Mrs. Earnshaw was ready to fling it out of doors: she did fly up, asking how he could fashion to bring that gipsy brat into the house, when they had their own bairns to feed and fend for? What he meant to do with it, and whether he were mad?"
We don't know why Frances dislikes Heathcliff, but it wouldn't be a stretch to assume it has to do with his race & status, because it is only after her disapproval that Hindley banishes Heathcliff to the role of a servant/slave, we can assume. We can also assume Frances disliked Heathcliff from the beginning, since we're never told that she took a liking to him like she initially does with Catherine; we are only ever told she dislikes him:
"She expressed pleasure, too, at finding a sister among her new acquaintance; and she prattled to Catherine, and kissed her, and ran about with her, and gave her quantities of presents, at the beginning. Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish, Hindley became tyrannical. A few words from her, evincing a dislike to Heathcliff, were enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy. He drove him from their company to the servants, deprived him of the instructions of the curate, and insisted that he should labour out of doors instead; compelling him to do so as hard as any other lad on the farm."
It is after the last quote that we learn Cathy and Heathcliff become increasingly "feral" outdoors, as Heathcliff is forced to toil in outdoor labor, and Cathy insists on keeping him company while he's at it. At this point they are both essentially orphaned, and then neglected and abandoned by Hindley and Frances, the new Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw, who take on the roles of the former Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw, who were similarly neglectful and emotionally abandoning to their children.
On Cathy and Heathcliff:
In the beginning, Lockwood reads this diary entry from Catherine I which proves the prior analysis in that she compares Mr. Earnshaw 1.0 to Mr. Earnshaw 2.0 (Hindley):
""An awful Sunday,' commenced the paragraph beneath. 'I wish my father were back again. Hindley is a detestable substitute — his conduct to Heathcliff is atrocious – H. and I are going to rebel — we took our initiatory step this evening."
Notice how in the death of Mr. Earnshaw and then under the tyranny of Hindley (Mr. Earnshaw 2.0), Cathy and Heathcliff are often sharing each other's emotions, and their bond is very twin-like. They both cry & grieve in their room in unison after Earnshaw dies, and although Heathcliff is the one primarily sentenced to torment by Hindley, Cathy doesn't abandon him to it and instead often keeps him company in his punishment, recalling when she was younger and her father would try to keep Heathcliff away from her to punish her.
Even when Cathy does sort of abandon Heathcliff to marry Edgar, in her speech after Heathcliff leaves, she says that her plan was to use her control over Edgar to benefit Heathcliff, so she really never intended to abandon him at all. Abandonment, attachment issues, separation, loss, grief, being torn away from someone/somewhere/something, are all major themes in this story, often expressed by familial and more often filial experiences.
Cathy and Heathcliff's relationship basically embodies all these themes the most poignantly, in that Heathcliff abandons her because he thinks she's abandoning him and he can't bear it and would rather leave than be left; then as soon as he returns, Cathy ends up actually physically abandoning him by dying! And later on, her ghost taunts him (I believe most of us can take the ghost plot as canon & not hallucinatory considering how many characters attest to it), and he once again returns to her like he did before.
Their whole relationship is about overcoming obstacles to separation, and being determined to retain their attachment as an act of defiance (even if it means defying life, death, physics, etc.) — this is why they're considered the most romantic couple in literature even despite their awful behavior most of the time, because in writing/literary pedagogy as a general rule it is almost always the goal of romantic leads to overcome obstacles which separate them from their lover, – and Heathcliff and Cathy take this goal to a new level by overcoming not only their childhood punishments of separation from one another, but overcoming the impossible obstacles of LIFE AND DEATH to reunite in the spirit realm where no one can separate them again — not even God.
Both Catherine and Heathcliff say that they know they won't go to heaven; God literally doesn't want them, and he has abandoned them, and this is the ultimate abandonment/seperation. Thus, all they have in the universe is each other — and if their relationship didn't work in life, they're determined to make it work in death!
Some final thoughts on Mr. Earnshaw and the making of Heathcliff:
Due to all of my previous explanations, I consider Mr. Earnshaw a possibly well-intentioned man but who ultimately failed all of his children (along with Mrs. Earnshaw) by 1) emotionally neglecting/abandoning Catherine because she was a "bad child" & acted more boyish than Hindley, 2) emotionally neglecting/abandoning Hindley in favor of Heathcliff (and maybe it was partly because Hindley was becoming a moody teenager and Heathcliff was comparatively younger/easier to handle bc of his trauma-induced subdued nature, but whatever his reasoning, it had disastrous consequences), 3) emotionally neglecting Heathcliff too by not being involved enough in his integration with the family & not checking in on him and Hindley, 4) straight up just not being that involved to begin with and not seeming to teach his children anything, hence why they're all bratty and grow up to be deeply maladjusted.
Notice how Nelly's motivational speeches to Heathcliff, and her taking care of him when he was sick, have an extraordinary affect on him, meaning Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw probably didn't show him even half as much attention or real affection. Like most English fathers at the time, Earnshaw thought his job as father/master was to merely provide provisions, leave the children with the women to be actually raised, and be done with it. The most unique thing he does in his life, and indeed his whole role in the story, is bringing home Heathcliff.
Maybe most importantly, I also just realized that Earnshaw kidnapping Heathcliff parallels Heathcliff kidnapping his own son after Isabella dies (and also him kidnapping his daughter-in-law Cathy II), and while this narrative parallel works if Earnshaw is merely Heathcliff's adoptive father, it also could be working to suggest that Earnshaw was his biological father, knew Heathcliff's mother had died, and so went back for him and took him by force. If Heathcliff's mother had recently died (or been separated from him), this would have compounded his trauma of being taken by Earnshaw, and this would have furthered his childhood memory loss, which could be another reason why I don't think Heathcliff remembers very much about his origins.
Heathcliff has much in common with Frankenstein's creaure. Yet, he is essentially a self-made man, his own creator and creature. We are even led to think of him as inhuman, as Isabella suggests with her referring to him as such and even calling him vampiric. And he does bear a lot of similarity to John Polidori's Lord Ruthven, from the first vampire novel The Vampyre (a Byronic tale, based on Byron's short story Augustus Darvell). Heathcliff's canonically mysterious origins and mysterious hiatus are necessary to his character; like Isabella and Nelly, we're supposed to question him and form our own opinions on the matter.
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xylofondue · 10 months ago
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Ninjago DR S2 Spoilers!!!
Ninjago dr s2 was soo good because it really reminded me of like the Oni Trilogy, which is my favorite group of seasons ever and i really appreciated the callbacks it made like in the Oni trilogy and OMG like it had really good animation and Cole is when hotter than before which i didn’t know could happen but it did and Galadrial??? Wizard lady? Yes please she’s so cool and her character design is mwah chef’s kiss and the Finders are so found family it hurts. Also theory for Fitz since he has a crow mask on his head and marking like Akira, he could be a forgotten formling? Which is pretty sad but maybe. Also the parallels between Lloyd and Arin and Wu and Morro???? Help??!? It is not good in my opinion that Lloyd is trying to be like Wu girlypop you do NOT want to be like him you know how his first student turned out and also apparently Arin learned Shatterspin??? Like the similarities between him and Cinder’s Shatterspins are ENDLESS. I also think that Arin has the FSM’s or Wu’s powers now bc he has golden powers and is ✨special ✨who else in Ninjago have we seen with golden colored powers? Wu and the FSM. Also WHERE IS PIXAL????? Shes dead and never comimg back im convinced also i NEED that Frohicky plush i swear i need it for my mental health its so adorable ALSO NON BINARY FLAG ON ONE OF THE PEOPLE IN DORAMA’S SHOW HAD IT ON THEIR SLEEVE IM SCREAMING AAAAAAAAAAA anyway egalt is a dickbag he should listen to his wife and not rag on Arin pls you are not helping him with his self esteem issues bro. AND THE KAI AND NYA FLASHBACK??? GORGEOUS AMAZING THEY WERE SO CUTE also what was kai’s vision in the tunnel???? Why was he looking at Lloyd and Nya like that??? What happened???? Also Arin is defo going to be manipulated into that Shattering Gong thing like omg. I guessed it ep2 and im sticking with it. They keep talking about how Arin is naive and good and stuff and Ras is taking advantage of that stay away from my baby i swear if you touch the child i will kill you. Also Lloyd is so not doing well. Like it’s almost funny how not okay he is. Bonzle is also officially one of my fav characters and i’m convinced that Zane was Cole’s gay crush or gay awakening bc they were super close and Cole was always more affectionate and touchy with Zane than the others (sorry lava) And Kai is so dad-coded it hurts he deserved to be the one to learn Rising Dragon technique i will fight anyone who disagrees. Also the fears scene was kinda funny like you had everyone else as like devastated and sad, while Nya’s just like “Jay would not fucking do that tf? Clearly fake” unfortunately it’s true and it hurts so much
Um
Good show about legos that i am so normal about.
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osakigitsune · 1 year ago
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NaruHina Month 2022: Odysseus and Penelope
Days. Months. Years. Decades.
It had been far too long since the queen had last seen her beloved Naruto, and having practically every man throw themselves at her was tiring! For them to assume he was dead was practical; still, she knew better. She could sense that he was still out there. Whether he was across the globe, in another country, or towns away, she would wait for him, even on her deathbed. No one else could have her heart or soul. She was eternally his.
Twenty years.
Her mind was lost in waiting for her dear lost Naruto. Repeatedly having the suitors throw themselves at her, she devised a plan after spotting a familiar blonde dressed in tattered rags. There was no indication that it was her love, but she’d take every chance to test her theory out.
“Listen up. -
I’ll marry whoever -”
It was evident that many of the suitor’s eyes lit up, but she wasn’t finished.
“Can shoot an arrow through a row of twelve axes using Odssyeus’ great bow.”
Immediately, the sudden hope or thought that they had a chance was gone. There was no possibility that they stood a chance regarding this test.
Observing each go through the test, no one could pull back the string, having no way of succeeding.
Eyes briefly meeting the blonde’s, there was an instant spark. Never had Hinata felt that for anyone besides her king. She held her breath while waiting for him to draw the string and latch the arrow. “...Naruto-kun…” She mumbles under her breath.
Watching him let the string go, the arrow pierces threw and cuts through all twelve axes. Withholding herself from tackling him there and then, her pale lavender hues analyze him closely.
Within seconds, the tables turned, and the blonde aimed his bow at the suitors. Eyes widening, Hinata gaped in horror. What was he thinking?! Man after man getting pierced by his arrows, she felt her heart practically jump out of her chest. She hadn’t noticed until later that her son and another man had joined the killing spree. The men may have all been beyond cruel toward the beggar, but did that mean they deserved death? Thinking about it, they had been trying to win her hand in marriage while Naruto was out for decades. Was this Naruto reclaiming his throne and ridding their kingdom of those who denied him?
In minutes, they’re all slaughtered; all left is their family and an ally. Teary eyes, Hinata rushes over and throws herself at her lover. Without warning, her lips press against his. It had been far too long!
Naruto returned her passionate kiss. Rough, calloused hands threading through her silky hair, he tightens his embrace on his wife. He had dreamt of this moment soon after he had left twenty years before, and to be reunited with his lover, he couldn’t ask for more!
Ignoring his filthy garments and state, Hinata broke away from her partner and longingly gazed into her husband’s cerulean orbs. “... I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Hinata… it’s been far too long.”
Hinata pushed herself up on her toes and pecked his lips once more. “... please, don’t make me wait as long again… I wanted no one but you. Still, I fought all temptations to give up, I knew it in my heart that you were still alive.”
Cupping her face, Naruto lovingly reassures her. “... I won’t. I still need to finish some business. I promise to not leave you hanging this time, Hinata… I won’t put you through that again.”
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autumnalwalker · 2 years ago
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Word Search Tag Game
Thank you for the tag, @oh-no-another-idea.
My words to find were violent, damage, hurt, & hope.
Passing the tag to @mjparkerwriting, @kahvilahuhut, @luminouslittlemoth, @enchanted-lightning-aes, and an open tag for anyone else.
Your words shall be blasphemy, collateral, smirk, & pummel.
Violent: Empty Names - 14 - Down Low
Eris snorts a laugh and shakes her head.  What would her parents think if they could see her now, making offerings to some strange god in a cave.  Actually, a bit of blasphemy and idolatry is probably better than whatever violent criminality they assume she gets up to these days.  Maybe they’d write back the next time they got one of her annual letters letting them know she’s still alive.
Damage: Empty Names - 4 - Prince In Gold
“It was a couple weeks after you left,” Sullivan begins, “and with you and Carnette both gone I wasn’t taking it well.  No, don’t apologize, I’ve moved on.  Anywho, I hit a point where I needed something, anything, to get my mind off it, if only for a night.  So I called up Lucinda to see if she could set me up with a gig on short notice to blow off some steam.”
“Lucinda?”
“My old fixer.  Little old lady.  Hair looks like it used to be red.  Vampire.  I think you met her at the wedding.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Thing is, I hadn’t seen her since the wedding either and she wasn’t answering my calls, so I decided to go drop in on her in person.  She shot me.”
“Rude.”
“Eh, I was in her house uninvited, and she’d just climbed out of her coffin for the night.”
“But what if it hadn’t been you?”
Sullivan shrugs.  “Guess they would have died.  But I just told her the bullets normally get shot at me after she gives me a job.  In light of my comedic genius - you had to be there for the full effect of the delivery - dear old Lucy graciously forgave my unannounced visit and presented me with the predicament that had kept her up all day.
“Apparently some punk kid of a mage got her hands on the staff of a long-dead wizard and was going around calling herself the second coming of Morgan le Fay or some shit.  The kid was a useless newbie, but the staff itself packed enough of a punch for her to set herself up as Crossherd’s newest cult leader and wannabe mob boss.  The powers that be wanted this nipped in the bud before it got to be a real problem - especially if the kid started buying her own con and autogenesis kicked in - and my lovely Lucinda of the immortal wrinkles had been running herself ragged the past week trying to find someone who could take care of the problem with minimal collateral damage.  It was exactly the sort of outlet I’d been looking for and I volunteered to do it that night without pay.”
Hurt: Empty Names - 16 -Mall Rats
“Being a repeat customer and referring my services does not entitle you to information on my other clients.”  Eustace says sharply.  “If anything, you’re the one who owes me by this point.”
“Not even just this once, Eustace?”
“No!  Half my business is staked on my reputation for discretion.  If I lose that I lose everything.”  The creeping anger in his voice is at odds with the calm expression still on his face.  Sullivan hums with amusement at that.
“Oh, I know that quite well.  Like I said, we have an understanding, don’t we Eustace?”  Sullivan leans in closer.  “And understanding like that goes both ways now, does it not?  I know how your profession works, and you know how mine works.”
“Threats now?”  Eustace scoffs.  “If you understood me half as well as you say you do you’d realize that this isn’t even my real body.  There’s nothing you can do here that can hurt me in a way that matters.”
“That’s quite the interesting theory you have there,” Sullivan lilts.  “I’m sure my dearly departed wife would have quite a few things to say about that.  Eh, Eusta-”
“Enough!”  Eustace slams the counter, failing to make Sullivan flinch.  “Yes, that’s my bloody name, you don’t have to keep saying it over and over.  Do you think you’re being endearing?  Gods!  I swear you get creepier every time you darken my doorstep.  Now get out.. of… my… shop…”  His voice goes low as the words trail off in dawning realization.
Sullivan’s ever-present smirk grows a degree wider.
“It’s true, isn’t it?” Eustace stammers, “What they say she did to you.”
The smirk shows teeth.  Even through the wax figure proxy body, Eustace shivers.
Hope: Empty Names - 13 - Open Office
“Hey,” Road waves back as Lacuna and Eris approach down the block.  “You’re right on time.  Ashan just finished his inspection of the property’s wards.”
“Indeed,” Glassheart says with a nod toward them before turning back to Bridgewood.  “As I was saying, your contractors do impressive work.  The perception filter should more than suffice for redirecting anyone without prior Backstage exposure and the underlying structure of the kinetic barrier is unusually stable for being on a command word toggle.”
“I should hope so,” Sullivan lilts, “I spared no expense.”
“That said, I have concerns about some of the retaliatory measures on the mid-layer defenses being overkill.  Intent detection is notoriously fickle and I have no wish to see one of our potential clients arriving in distress only to be exsanguinated upon setting foot on the lawn.”
Lacuna pauses mid-step, one foot on the concrete sidewalk and the other hovering midair just past the fence line.
“It’s fine, just look,” Bridgewood insists before grabbing Lacuna’s wrist and pulling her over the property line, twirling her around him despite the height difference, and letting her go to stumble backwards until Road catches and steadies her.
“See?”  Bridgewood preens while gesturing to Eris.  “Muscles here looks about ready to pummel me and yet all of her blood is still in her body.”
“Keep pulling shit like that and we’ll see how long we can say the same for you,” Eris says.
“Oh, I’m afraid that ship has long since sailed, but you -”
Road coughs pointedly, eliciting a put-upon sigh from Bridgewood.
“But you have my apologies, the both of you.  I recall now that you requested a warning in the future before engaging in practical japery, and you have my word that I will endeavor to do so in the future.”
It is perhaps the third least sincere-sounding apology Lacuna has ever received.
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hussyknee · 7 months ago
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Using web archive to link The Guardian because I never want to give that genocidal rag any traffic again. This is a cliffnotes rundown of Alex Jones's actions on the Sandy Hook shooting, per the HBO documentary "The Truth vs. Alex Jones". I tried to find an excerpt to copy and paste but every word makes me want to throw up and lynch him. The documentary alleges that, thanks to him, one out of four USAmericans believe the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting was staged and the families of the dead kids paid actors.
youtube
This 2022 NPR article (also linked through web archive for the same reason) goes more in-depth into how InfoWars' coverage of Sandy Hook signalled an unprecedented explosion of disinformation in the US through social media, and the harrassment of the victims's families, and how some of them fought back, with consequences.
TW: for stalking, doxxing, assault, harrassment, abuse, psychological torture and utterly heartbreaking grieving of a parent.
On how Lenny Pozner, father of victim Noah Pozner, was successful in his efforts to remove content on hoaxer Facebook groups
The thing that he discovered that became kind of a main tool in his toolkit was the copyright laws. ... Lenny maintained a memorial Google Plus page to [his son] Noah that included a lot of images of Noah and his sisters and videos of him. And these conspiracy theorists would go onto that page and lift the images and use them in videos in making false claims and blog posts and Facebook pages and such. [Lenny] owned that material. That is something that is within the rules that violates these social media platforms' terms of service. He could get that material taken down. So he and his HONR Network volunteers amassed lists by the thousands of videos, posts and various claims that were made about Sandy Hook using those images, and the companies would take those down. On why removing content made Pozner a target for Alex Jones and his followers [That] was one thing that these individuals couldn't stand. They didn't care that the families would make statements talking about how they had moved so many times because their address was being put online, or the torment that it had put their surviving children through. ... They didn't care about any of that. They did care if their material was being taken down. That, to them, was a violation of their First Amendment rights. ... [Alex Jones] flew into a fury when this happened, and that was all really it took to gin up a lot of fury out there among his listeners against Lenny.
[Lenny] has lived in hiding ever since he began to engage these individuals, the hoaxers, the spreaders of Sandy Hook conspiracy theories. They have repeatedly posted his personal information, his Social Security number, his phone numbers and those of Veronique, his ex-wife, his family and extended family, online. He has moved, at this point, about a dozen times, mostly because these people keep posting his address online. At one point, there was a conspiracy theorist who had spread some of these lies about Sandy Hook, who was living around the corner from him. ... [Lenny] doesn't allow people to see his face [in interviews]. He doesn't allow himself to be photographed in the media, and these conspiracy theorists had picked up a detail in the railing of the balcony of his apartment building outside the window and tracked the building and posted it online. Another time, a man who has since been convicted of assault, called him the day he moved in, or a couple of days later. and read his new address to him over the phone. So he's never been able to really settle until very, very recently, because he's in constant fear that someone is going to take action based on what they believe that they read online.
On why Pozner says he won — despite being doxxed and tormented There was a thing that Lenny told me early on that really stuck with me. He told me about how after Noah died, that he was searching for anything that smelled like him, clothes that maybe hadn't been washed, anything that smelled like his son, because he remembered how he would, at night, go into [Noah's] room when he was sleeping and he would inhale that scent, that if you have children, anyone knows of a sleeping baby. That really resonated with me, because what he was saying was that all trace of Noah was gone by a few months afterward. He couldn't find that scent. And what he was basically saying was Noah's essence online, the record of his life and death, was in danger of being obliterated in similar fashion by these lies. Where if you googled "Sandy Hook," you would find not an accounting of the crime or a tribute to the victims – you would find these lies. And he realized that if this continued, if he didn't try to stop it, that Noah would fade, like his scent, to nothing and that his legacy would not survive. And [Lenny] has succeeded. If you check it out, if you google [Noah] today and you google the "Sandy Hook shooting," you will find a factual representation. You will not find lies and conspiracy theories and Alex Jones broadcasts. And to [Lenny], that is a victory. The other thing is that Alex Jones, his name is never mentioned any more without that being attached to him, that this was the person who spread lies about Sandy Hook that resulted in years of torment of these families. And that also, to Lenny, is a victory.
You could take this piece of toe gangrene's last pair of underpants and throw him onto the street and it still wouldn't be commensurate to the suffering he's still causing.
Also to clarify:
Disinformation is information that is false, and the person who is disseminating it knows it is false. “It is a deliberate, intentional lie, and points to people being actively disinformed by malicious actors”.
Misinformation is information that is false, but the person who is disseminating it believes that it is true.
Malinformation is information that is based on reality but it is used to inflict harm on a person, organisation or country.
I also want to take a moment to appreciate the irony of these so-called leftwing publications who want to expose Alex Jones while spreading propaganda for governments who've murdered 15,000 children and counting with another 21,000 and counting unaccounted for. Apparently if you're a monster if you spread disinformation about 20 white USAmerican children but defending the murder of tens of thousands just makes you an objective reporter. Reduce the number of clicks these assholes get if you can, and avoid depending on them for unbiased foreign news coverage anymore than you'd depend on right-wing media.
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mxlfoydraco · 2 years ago
Note
Which are the Drarry fic that you have re-read more than any other?
These are from my reread pile! The first four several times over. :)
Around You Moves by ignatiustrout (29k)
Harry knew Draco was gay when he invited him to move in. He’s never had a problem with this. So why does he feel so weird about Draco bringing men home all of a sudden?
Number Seven by sara_holmes (253k)
Harry already has small children, an ex-wife, annoying colleagues and an international crime ring to deal with. So when Draco Malfoy reappears after eight years AWOL in France, of course Harry is going to leave him well alone… Right?
Away Childish Things by lettered (153k)
Harry gets de-aged. Malfoy has to help him.
(The Piece) I was Missing All Along by lauren3210 (30k)
Draco and Harry have been flatmates and best friends for years, and Draco thinks life is just perfect that way. But when something comes along and threatens to take all that away, Draco has to decide what it is he really wants, and just how hard he's going to work to get it.
Temptation on the Warfront by alizarincrims0n (180k)
Draco Malfoy is forced into hiding with the Golden Trio and dragged into their search for horcruxes. What ensues is a journey of redemption, unexpected friendships and an unwanted, turbulent romance with Harry Potter. Warnings for swearing, sexual content, and dark themes.
Chaos Theory by Tessa Crowley (102k)
Chaos: when the present determines the future, but the approximate present does not approximately determine the future. One gene varies, one neuron fires, one butterfly flaps its wings, and Draco Malfoy's life is completely different. Draco has always found a certain comfort in chaos. Perhaps he shouldn't.
Hermione Granger's Hogwarts Crammer for Delinquents on the Run by waspabi (93k)
'You're a wizard, Harry' is easier to hear from a half-giant when you're eleven, rather than from some kids on a tube platform when you're seventeen and late for work.
Far From The Tree by aideomai (112k)
The arrival of Harry Potter’s children—snapped back in time, the children themselves guessed, twenty or so years—was the most interesting thing to happen at Hogwarts for years.
Grounds for Divorce by Tepre (122k)
Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter. A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.
All Our Secrets Laid Bare by @firethesound (2014, E, 150k)
Over the six years Draco Malfoy has been an Auror, four of his partners have turned up dead. Harry Potter is assigned as his newest partner to investigate just what is going on.
Foundations!verse by Saras_Girl (364k)
Harry is about to discover that the steepest learning curve comes after Healer training, and that second chances can be found in unexpected places.
All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (114k)
Professor Malfoy’s world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.
What We Pretend We Can’t See by Gyzym (131k)
Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.
Here’s The Pencil, Make It Work by ignatiustrout (49k)
Harry thinks “Why is Malfoy working in a coffee shop in muggle London?” is a much simpler question than, “Are you going to accept that auror offer and, if you don’t, what will you do?”
Turn by Saras_Girl (306k)
One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.
Running on Air by eleventy7 (74k)
Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.
Such Great Heights by aideomai (93k)
Draco Malfoy, wide-eyed and pale and in a decidedly ragged shirt, was crouched next to the pile of whatever the dragon had been eating. Harry threw himself to a halt and yelled, “Merlin, how many times do I have to save your life?”
Dwelling by aideomai (83k)
Curses, James and Lily Potter ride again, several Ministry balls, a teenage Summer of Love, a grim young adult dystopian winter, a few different Draco Malfoys, secrets and the problems re: not having any, alternate lives, impossible lives, real lives, allusions to Dirty Dancing, and just because it's not called the Mirror of Erised doesn't mean you shouldn't know better.
In Pieces by dysonrules (85k)
Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new DADA instructor, only to find his teaching efforts thwarted by a very familiar ghost.
An Issue of Consequence by Faith Wood (20k)
Draco has woken up in an alternate universe. Or he has woken up utterly insane. Nothing else can possibly explain why Harry Potter suddenly seems to think he's Draco's boyfriend.
Save My Wonders by sdk (21k)
Immediately chocolate assaulted Draco's senses. Warm melted chocolate mixed with his mother's roses and... something else. Something new. Freshly scrubbed skin and maybe a faint sheen of sweat. It was so familiar... And it only intensified when Potter came up behind him.
The Devil's White Knight by AngrySpaceRavenclaw/orphaned (64k)
When Harry wakes up in an alternate timeline--a timeline where Voldemort was defeated long before the first war--he discovers everything is different. His parents, his godfather, his friends--and him. Harry must deal with the consequences of who he would have been if he had been raised by his parents, and figure out where he stands with his casual hook up, Draco Malfoy.
What I thought by bafflinghaze (7k)
Draco thought they were in a relationship. Harry thought it was just sex.
The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care by @digthewriter (9k)
Harry Potter is the proud owner of The Little Marauders Nursery and Day Care and his favourite student is Scorpius Malfoy. Scorpius’s dad might be okay, too.
A Broken but Happy Sound by thusspakekate (7k)
Sometimes we do terrible things for no reason. Other times, we have terrible reasons.
Packing the Flat by marguerite_26 (6k)
Months after their explosive break-up, Draco insists Harry return to their flat to remove his belongings.
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Text
Dr. Eugene Lazowski
Eugeniusz “Eugene” Lazowski was born in 1913 in Częstochowa, Poland. In 1940, he received his medical degree. During the second war, he was serving as a  Polish Army Second Lieutenant on a Red Cross train, then as a military doctor in the Home Army, the main Polish resistance group.
His focus was on medical care, and during much of the conflict he worked for the Polish Red Cross in the town of Rozwadow. As a Catholic, Lazowski risked death at the hands of the Nazis for helping his Jewish neighbors on multiple occasions.
Lazowski provided medical care for his Jewish neighbors in Rozwadow.  The area had devised a system where if a Jewish resident needed medical assistance they would hang a rag on Lazowski's fence and then Lazowski would make a house-call to their residence under the cover of darkness.  Lazowski's medical oath required him to help people in need and his moral fiber compelled him to not think of race or religion when providing medical assistance.  In order to avoid having his Jewish neighbors and friends shipped off to Nazi concentration camps, with the assistance of fellow Polish medical professional Stanislav Matulewicz Lazowski began experimenting with bacteria injections.  The pair discovered that if you inject someone with a vaccine containing dead Epidemic Typhus, they will in fact test positive for the disease.  Although the patient would test positive, there would be no adverse effects of the illness and if questioned the patient could in theory fake the symptoms.  Because the Nazis knew that typhus was deadly they would not bother deporting anyone to a concentration camp who tested positive.  After injecting many Jews and non-Jews in the ghetto of Rozwadow and the surrounding area, the German government quickly became alarmed and ordered a quarantine of the area.
The Nazi army was very health-conscious and did not deport any more people from that quarantine zone, fearing a widespread infection.  This quarantine and the injections saved over 8,000 people from deportation to the Nazi death camps, yet Eugene Lazowski remained humble about his role in the war until his death.
Łazowski was well aware of the risks he was taking by creating a fake typhus epidemic.  He always carried a cyanide pill with him in the event he was captured.  In late 1943, the Gestapo became suspicious.  The Gestapo knew that Łazowski had been treating members of the resistance but had decided to keep him alive in order to contain the typhus “epidemic.”  When Łazowski learned about what the Gestapo knew about him, he escaped Rozwadów with his family.
After the war, Łazowski continued to live in Poland, which came under communist rule in 1948. Fearing retaliation from former collaborators, he never spoke of what he had done in Rozwadów as long as he remained in Poland.  In 1960, with the help of a Rockefeller Foundation Scholarship, Łazowski emigrated to the United States. In 1976 he became a professor of pediatrics at the University of Illinois Medical Center. He published over a hundred research papers in Polish and English.
In 1998, Łazowski contacted 17-year-old film major Ryan Bank about making a documentary (“A Private War”) about Łazowski ’s story.  The project included a 16-day trip to Poland—Łazowski ’s first trip back to Poland in more than 50 years—that included a joyful reunion with villagers from Rozwadów.  Bank said of Łazowski: "He said he took an oath as a doctor to help people, and the oath didn't differentiate among people.  There was no option for him, there was no thought process about ‘Should I or shouldn't I.’”
Dr. Łazowski ’s parents were also Holocaust-era rescuers.  His father, Kazimierz Łazowski, and mother, Zofia Łazowska, hid Jewish families in their home in Warsaw.
according to his daughter he had never told his wife about the fake epidemic.  His wife Maria died in 1996 and Lazowski passed away at age 92 on December 16, 2006 in Eugene, Oregon where he had been living with his daughter for 3 years due to his failing health.
https://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/dr-eugene-lazowski
https://chge.uni.edu/lazowski
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istumpysk · 3 years ago
Text
Operation Stumpy Re-Read
ASOS: Jaime I (Chapter 1)
Look who I get to make fun of now.
An east wind blew through his tangled hair, as soft and fragrant as Cersei's fingers. He could hear birds singing, and feel the river moving beneath the boat as the sweep of the oars sent them toward the pale pink dawn. After so long in darkness, the world was so sweet that Jaime Lannister felt dizzy. I am alive, and drunk on sunlight.
It's going to be so funny when she rejects him.
+.+.+
Ser Cleos fretted. "Cousin, remember your courtesies."
The Lannister blood runs thin in this one. Cleos was his Aunt Genna's son by that dullard Emmon Frey, who had lived in terror of Lord Tywin Lannister since the day he wed his sister. When Lord Walder Frey had brought the Twins into the war on the side of Riverrun, Ser Emmon had chosen his wife's allegiance over his father's. Casterly Rock got the worst of that bargain, Jaime reflected.
I have a conspiracy theory:
George created this Lannister-Frey marriage to establish a historical tie between both houses, but in the process forgot it's absurd that a first daughter of House Lannister marry a Frey that isn't even heir.
He then realized his massive blunder, and invented the Genna/Emmon backstory in AFFC.
+.+.+
She had laid the point of the big wench's sword against his heart and said, "Swear that you will never again take up arms against Stark nor Tully. Swear that you will compel your brother to honor his pledge to return my daughters safe and unharmed. Swear on your honor as a knight, on your honor as a Lannister, on your honor as a Sworn Brother of the Kingsguard. Swear it by your sister's life, and your father's, and your son's, by the old gods and the new, and I'll send you back to your sister. Refuse, and I will have your blood." He remembered the prick of the steel through his rags as she twisted the point of the sword.
I wonder what the High Septon would have to say about the sanctity of oaths sworn while dead drunk, chained to a wall, with a sword pressed to your chest?
Yes, I wonder.
There aren't many characters who make vows under duress in this story, but when it does happen, it seems mighty noteworthy.
+.+.+
"A man who would violate his own sister, murder his king, and fling an innocent child to his death deserves no other name."
If she didn't include that last part, I was about to start hollering.
+.+.+
Innocent? The wretched boy was spying on us.
[...]
If truth be told, Jaime had come to rue heaving Brandon Stark out that window. Cersei had given him no end of grief afterward, when the boy refused to die. "He was seven, Jaime," she'd berated him. "Even if he understood what he saw, we should have been able to frighten him into silence."
Pretty clear Jaime Lannister is a dead man his very first chapter.
+.+.+
"Lady Brienne?" She looked so uncomfortable that Jaime sensed a weakness. "Or would Ser Brienne be more to your taste?" He laughed.
Hmmm.
+.+.+
"When I quarrel I do it with a sword, coz. I was speaking to the lady. Tell me, wench, are all the women on Tarth as homely as you? I pity the men, if so. Perhaps they do not know what real women look like, living on a dreary mountain in the sea."
Is he 10 years old?
Remember how Sansa had to be saved from Sansans? Well...
+.+.+
"She's rude as well, isn't she, coz?" Jaime asked Ser Cleos. "Though she has steel in her spine, I'll grant you. Not many men dare name me monster to my face." Though behind my back they speak freely enough, I have no doubt.
But I'm sure you don't care about that.
+.+.+
"Let Robert do as he pleases. I'll go to war with him if I must. The War for Cersei's Cunt, the singers will call it."
Featuring Lancel Lannister and Moon Boy.
+.+.+
Had Cersei remembered him afterward and hired this man Lady Catelyn spoke of, to make sure the boy never woke? If she wanted him dead she would have sent me. And it is not like her to chose a catspaw who would make such a royal botch of the killing.
Things that aged well: Cersei would never hire someone so incompetent.
+.+.+
The reflection in the water was a man he did not know. Not only was he bald, but he looked as though he had aged five years in that dungeon; his face was thinner, with hollows under his eyes and lines he did not remember. I don't look as much like Cersei this way. She'll hate that.
Laughing at the foreshadowing, but also wondering how it never occurred to him that he looks exactly like his father.
+.+.+
An empty net, slashed and torn and hanging from some trees, was the only sign of fisherfolk. A young girl watering her horse rode off as soon as she glimpsed their sail.
I'm not sure on the timeline, but I think there's a strong possibility this is Arya.
Brienne's group and Arya's group both visit the Inn of the Kneeling Man in their next few chapters.
+.+.+
Below, Jaime made out the smouldering remains of a large building, and a live oak full of dead women.
The crows had scarcely started on their corpses. The thin ropes cut deeply into the soft flesh of their throats, and when the wind blew they twisted and swayed. "This was not chivalrously done," said Brienne when they were close enough to see it clearly. "No true knight would condone such wanton butchery."
[...]
When he saw the crude sign hung about the neck of the highest corpse, he smiled. "They Lay With Lions," he read. "Oh, yes, woman, this was most unchivalrously done . . . but by your side, not mine. I wonder who they were, these women?"
"Tavern wenches," said Ser Cleos Frey. "This was an inn, I remember it now. Some men of my escort spent the night here when we last returned to Riverrun."
[...]
"The girls pleasured some of my lord father's soldiers, it would seem. Perhaps served them food and drink. That's how they earned their traitors' collars, with a kiss and a cup of ale." He glanced up and down the river, to make certain they were quite alone. "This is Bracken land. Lord Jonos might have ordered them killed. My father burned his castle, I fear he loves us not."
"It might be Marq Piper's work," said Ser Cleos.
Riverlords butchering their own people. Yay, war.
+.+.+
"My name is Brienne," she repeated, dogged as a hound.
x
He had to laugh at such fierceness. She's the Hound with teats, he thought. Or would be, if she had any teats to speak of.
Yes, let's immediately create a direct link between these two characters. We love narrative foils.
+.+.+
She was gaining visibly, the men on her deck crowding forward as she came on. Metal glinted in their hands, and Jaime could see bows as well. Archers. He hated archers.
Great swordsman hating archers has to mean something eventually, right?
"Always follow a big man into battle."
Tyrion threw him a hard look. "And why is that?"
"They make such splendid targets. That one, he'll draw the eyes of every bowman on the field." - Tyrion VIII, AGOT
x
"I'd do the same. A small man with a big shield. You'll give the archers fits." - Tyrion VIII, AGOT
+.+.+
The skiff swung through a litter of broken stones as Jaime called out, "I know a better way to settle this—single combat. You and I."
"I was not born this morning, Lannister."
"No, but you're like to die this afternoon."
Jaime has always been wittier than Tyrion, change my mind.
+.+.+
A flight of arrows answered him. One thudded into the mast, two pierced the sail, and the fourth missed Jaime by a foot.
[...]
The motion of the two boats was giving the archers difficulty, but Jaime knew they'd soon enough learn to compensate.
[...]
"Not you, ser. If the choice were mine, I'd like nothing better, but I am commanded to bring you back alive if possible. Bowmen." He signaled them on. "Notch. Draw. Loo—"
Why are you shooting arrows at a man you'd like to keep alive?
+.+.+
Brienne was halfway up the cliff face, pulling herself from handhold to handhold. Ryger's sure to see her, and once he does he'll have those bowmen bring her down.
[...]
The archers could scarcely have missed, but as they pulled on their longbows a rain of pebbles cascaded down around them. Small stones rattled on their deck, bounced off their helms, and made splashes on both sides of the bow. Those who had wits enough to understand raised their eyes just as a boulder the size of a cow detached itself from the top of the bluff. Ser Robin shouted in dismay. The stone tumbled through the air, struck the face of the cliff, cracked in two, and smashed down on them.
I'm only sharing because it's important to showcase how awesome Brienne is.
+.+.+
"You're a bloody stupid wench," he told her. "We could have sailed on without you. I suppose you expect me to thank you?"
"I want none o. f your thanks, Kingslayer. I swore an oath to bring you safe to King's Landing."
"And you actually mean to keep it?" Jaime gave her his brightest smile. "Now there's a wonder."
Why yes, she's an Oathkeeper.
Final thoughts:
Jaime is so much easier to tolerate than Tyrion because I don't have to wait an eternity for his comeuppance.
-> return to menu <-
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johannstutt413 · 3 years ago
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(requested by anonymous; continuing from this) Tachanka and Absinthe bonding time
It didn’t take long for Tachanka to see his new official role as Papa Bear - once he’d realized they weren’t that much older than his oldest back home, at least - but the rumor mill set to work around him in its usual pseudo-conscious way. There was a theory that Natalya had become the “Mama Bear” of the USSGG, which was a) completely forgetting Rada did most of the housekeeping, by choice, and b) insensitive to the feelings of all parties involved. Sure, Sasha didn’t have a wife back home, and sure, that first night drinking together might’ve gotten a bit…interesting, but he was an old man. She needed someone closer to her age so she didn’t have to add being a young widow in addition to all her other baggage.
Sorry, where were we? Right, rumors. Frankly, the Sapiens didn’t care about them on his own behalf, but for the girls’, and thanks to his solid relationship with the Doctor, he knew exactly where to turn when they became prevalent enough to reach them. He kept his ears open for himself, acted when he needed to, and if for some reason the Doctor’s input wasn’t enough to take care of things, well, Tachanka wasn’t just any veteran; he was a Soviet veteran. If problems didn’t make themselves scarce, he could disappear them himself…
It was paying attention to rumors that brought another Ursus to his attention, one neither the Doctor nor the USSGG seemed as worried about, but who instantly caught Tachanka’s attention after hearing about her. A little more ears-to-the-ground showed him that she was interested in his group but never approached them. That revelation was the tipping point. He made a plan, and when the time was right, he put it into action.
Absinthe, meanwhile, was completely unaware that the mercenary had her in his sights. She did follow the USSGG, but it wasn’t because she wanted to get to know them…that much, anyway. There were questions she had only they could answer, questions about what happened in Peterheim and how it had become the horror whose aftermath she bore witness to briefly, questions about how justice could be done by them for the suffering Reunion and their fellow countrymen caused them, questions about what life was supposed to mean in the way of all these things.
Questions her therapist had been working with her on, admittedly, but she still wanted to ask someone who could relate to the inciting incidents better.
[As before, all dialogue is in Ursine] “I see you’re sitting alone, sestrenka.” Sasha set his tray at her table; he’d found out when she took her lunch break to introduce himself. “Mind if I join you?”
“...*Yawn* Go ahead.” Zoya cut a slice of barbeque sausage from a larger link and popped it in her mouth. Letting Eunectes into the kitchen had been a stroke of genius, as it turned out.
Tachanka slipped down his visor - he was wearing his ‘grub bucket’ helmet, as Leto affectionately called it, which left his less-than-Ursine head shape indeterminate - and did the same with his plate. “How’re you holding up?”
“I’m not dead yet.” She looked up from staring at her food, her ragged bangs covering one eye completely. “Have we met before?”
“No, but we’ve seen each other around. Alexander.” He extended a hand to her.
The Caster took it. “Is that your codename?”
“What’s a codename between friends?” Sasha smiled slightly. “But if you prefer, Tachanka.”
“Absinthe…but call me Zoya.”
The mercenary nodded. “That I will. So, you’re not dead. That’s good.”
“I guess.” Some days, she wondered. “Hmm. You know Zima’s group?”
“I sure do, sestrenka. You’re curious about them, aren’t you?” The Sapiens had a couple theories about why.
But Zoya didn’t admit to it right away. “How do you know them?”
“I met them at the bar,” Tachanka answered. Completely honestly - he stayed because the Doctor asked him to, but he would’ve wanted to know them better regardless. “We each paid for a round, had a good time, so I spend a few nights a week with them.”
“...They still remember Chernobog?” Her eyes narrowed at the name.
So did his. “Sestrenka, none of us can forget Chernobog.”
“You were there?” Sasha shook his head. “Then how can you say that?”
“I’ve seen what it’s done to them, to you. Children should never have to see the things you’ve seen.”
She focused back on her food. “What’s done is done.”
“You don’t sound confident in that, sestrenka.” The Sapiens took out a pocket knife and precisely cut the skin of an orange. “The past can’t be changed, but what you do about it can. It won’t be easy, but it’s possible.”
“And if it isn’t? If I’m too sad and weak to move on?” Choice visions of the nightmare that was that time began to replay in her mind-
-until an orange slice bounced off her forehead and landed on her tray. The mercenary smiled at her. “Then we’ll be sad and weak together; between seven broken folks, we can find the pieces of at least one whole person.”
“...Hmm.” Zoya had to admit, he sold the idea pretty well. But still. “So you want to introduce me?”
“I’ll be there when you introduce yourself,” Sasha replied before eating the last of his orange slices.
The Ursus took the straggler from her tray and offered it back to him. “Here.”
“No, sestrenka, that one is yours.” From outside of her vision, Tachanka pulled out another orange. “I have more.”
“Alright.” She’d never actually had one of whatever this thing was. Some kind of fruit, obviously, but the smell was strong, and the taste- oh. That was pretty good. “...Thank you.”
He peeled the second orange quickly, handed it to her, and pulled out a third. “It’s hard to find these in the motherland - they don’t grow well there - but they taste to me like liquid sunlight.”
“Yeah. What do you call them?”
“Oranges.” She gave him a disbelieving look. “I know, right? Lazy…Victorians. Yeah, the Victorians named them.”
The Caster shook her head. “I’ll forgive them for it this time…When are they free? I go back to work in twenty.”
“I’ll find you when you’re done. Here.” The Sapiens fished a crumpled piece of paper out of a pocket and thumped it onto her tray.
“Cool. I’ll let you know.” Zoya unfurled it, memorized the number, and then sat for a moment, looking at Tachanka’s face. “You look like him a little.”
Sasha tilted his head, finishing his last orange. He had a bag in the girls’ dorm for later. “Like who?”
“..No one.” She realized she’d said her thought aloud and blushed in embarrassment. It was true, though.
Alexander Senaviev had the same eyes as her father.
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absurdthirst · 4 years ago
Note
Do you think any of the boys would be cool with going to the store to buy you tampons/pads?
Buying You Tampons/Pads:
Javier: He’s a little uncomfortable...but not for the reasons that you would imagine. He’s just not really used to buying them. As long as you give him a note with exactly what you need, he's cool with it. He will just stare at the clerk if he gets a weird look. His theory is, if he can stick his cock in you, then he can go buy the damn things you need. 
Ezra: You don’t have a period. You have the implant due to your work on the different moons and planets. A lot of the times you are bathing with wet wipes and there isn’t packing room for those kinds of supplies. There is a menstrual cup in your gear, but unbeknownst to you, Ezra has made room in his gear for an extra box of your preferred tampons. Just in case. He feels that it’s his job to take care of his girl. 
Mando: You really think this walking mountain of Beskar is really going to give a fuck? NOPE. He has procured supplies for the covert many times and that has included feminine products for the women. Besides, even if he was embarrassed, no one is going to know. They just see a Mandalorian who isn’t to be fucked with, no matter if he’s carrying a box of tampons or not.
Catfish: You would think that this man would shy away from that, but you would be dead wrong. He’s the type that if he gets the text, he picking up your preferred brand and a pint of your favorite ice cream and has every intention of stopping by and picking up a pizza for dinner. If someone makes a comment while he’s standing in line, he’s just going to mumble about the fact that the person obviously doesn’t have a wife or girlfriend. He’s also grabbing a few candy bars off the rack at the register to add to the purchase. 
Tovar: Those kind of things don’t exist in his time....sooooooooo, yeah. There are cloths, or rags that women wear. He wouldn’t have to get them, because they are washed and reused. But say that they need to be replaced, he will absolutely go get the material you need to make more cloths. His scowl and general mean ass attitude will scare the merchant in to giving him a better price for the cloth. 
Whiskey: He’s had a wife, he know these things are a part of being in a relationship. “What’s your brand darlin’? Just let me know and I go get what you need. You just soak in the tub.” He reassures you before grabbing his keys and whistling as he walks out the door. There is a bodega just down the block from the penthouse and they should hopefully carry what you need. And he’ll ask the housekeeper at the ranch to grab some for when you manage to get away to Kentucky for some time away. 
Max Phillips: HAHAHAHA NOPE....this man is not going to go to the store for tampons or pads. He will however buy you the best menstrual cups, or several of them if you prefer. But when you are home, you are not wearing it. You are not wearing anything if he has his way. You have a vampire at your disposal. USE HIM. It’s what he wants. He will happily spend all night between your thighs to make sure not one drop is spilled onto the couch or sheets. 
Marcus: So....the first time that you stayed over, there was a box of your brand in your bag. He wasn’t snooping, it was in plain sight and he is an FBI agent.  He made a mental note of it and as you two got more serious, he bought a box for that inevitable time that you forgot to pack some and your period starts. When you embarrassingly ask him if there was any way he could run to the store for you, he just gives you a kiss and tells you to look in the linen closet in his bathroom. Your opinion of him being the best boyfriend ever just rose like 100%. 
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trees-to-meet-you · 4 years ago
Text
So Animaniacs 2020 in no specific order
Made fun of Donald Trump
Knocked on America’s gun problem
In that same episode had an anime fight scene
Made fun of IKEA instructions
Straight up killed all the other characters
Except wait they aren’t dead they just hung out on the wall for some reason (maybe drugged?)
Literally had Pinky sat he was being abused by Brain only to get hit and shut up about it
Julia Brain stood up for him later (I love her)
Screw Brain for doing that to her
“Welcome back to ‘That’s Not The Issue.’” On Faux News Channel with pictures of the White House in the background
Established that Dot (and probably Yakko) wear black shirts
Dot has a pixie cut and that’s good to know
Made fun of Elmer Fudd from Looney Tunes
Made fun of big game hunters
Licked the eye crusties of a fucking pigeon (and I’m still recovering)
Made fun of the Order of the Phoenix
Sliced off Yakko’s head at the end of an episode about Marie Antoinette
Pinky played Mario cart
Were those gay hands or fashion hands?
Made fun of the NSA and security state we live in
Made fun of anime again (or maybe kawaii or something? I don’t actually know what that is...
Dragged Trump again
A Rap Battle
Yakko pinned down Wakko 10/10 realistic sibling relationships
Might’ve made fun of Tiktok?? I think I remember “Stolen Dance” being one of the popular songs over the summer...
Murder on the Orient Express episode
Danger Mouse????? I’ve never seen it but I’ve heard of it
Made fun of rigged elections and Russian interference (though I’m not sure drawing the two characters with Russian accents to be a short hairy man and a rail thin woman with horse teeth and long nails was the right way to go about that)
Made ass jokes
Made fun of reboots and overused tropes
Made fun of rip-off shows
Electrocute Yakko when he makes a pun
Made fun of police searches
Wakko Warner nearly said “motherfucker”
Yakko called rich people dicks
Made fun of manspreading and mansplaining
Yakko and Dot went on a double date with bats????
Brain tried to make himself a wife (after he tried to make himself a son)
Made fun of Steven Spielberg for rebooting the Animaniacs
Yakko sleeps in a ball pit??? I mean it fits but there’s like no spinal support?
UPDOG????????
Brain straight up called people he didn’t like ‘undesirable’ and I don’t actually know if that’s a reference to a world leader or not because I don’t have Twitter
I feel like they just ragged on musical elitism???
SUGAR HONEY ICED TEA
Rent control and small business subsidies (I’m gonna be honest I don’t know what those are)
Did they add on more evidence to the ‘Pinky is genius and Brain is insane’ theory?
Future Brain has a metal arm yet that arm responds to being bitten? Does it have artificial nerves?
Is...... Is her name Hello Nurse?
Made fun of Russia’s government again? Specifically propaganda and Putin
Also made fun of Russia-USA corruption again
‘Who Wants to be an Oligarch’
Brain has a tragic backstory okay then
Making fun of the current state of Journalism I see
Wanna say that’s a Poltergeist reference but I’ve never actually seen Poltergeist
Made fun of the American Healthcare System
Thespian dragon named Benedict
Feel free to add on these are just things I noticed and liked
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villainship · 3 years ago
Text
[Who else could TD get marriage advice from?]
Another old writing WIP I went back & finished-up~! Alot longer this time. (Some of it is kinda disjointed--u kno how it is)
ALSO featuring Tarskal & Zahied. This time, they talk about Tarskal���s spouse; sad man Zahied’s POV of problems less bad than TD deserves to have. (Which is to say: the tense situation between TD & Cianna--and Juli, who ENTIRELY would rather not be dragged into the villains’ personal Situation--when they’ve joined the Alliance in the future.)
Context: TD & Cianna are MOSTLY on Odessen/with the Alliance because they needed a safe(ish) place to keep their kids.
TD & Zahied have had their ~association~ w/ one another for many years now, so TD got him recruited, too. (Competent. Leadership experience. Good aim. Not dead yet.)
They had never fought on the same side before. . . Now that they’re in walking distance of each other’s living quarters, it has become MUCH easier to just hang out & chill.
Zahied is self-detrimentally reclusive (he may or may not have any actual friends anymore), and sometimes feels it is much worse this way.
They haven’t gone back to trying to kill each other--yet.
--- “I don’t know why she has to be like this about it.”
“Don’t be obtuse on purpose.”
Tarskal’s lazy indignation and chilly side-eye glare in response had no effect on the attitude of Zahied, whose investment in the conversation was hanging by a nano-thread.
“There’s ‘not knowing’—“ Zahied continued, begrudging his own indulgence toward an incurably selfish man, “—and then there’s ’not wanting to know’ when the answer doesn’t suit you.”
“Fascinated to hear your take; have you had personal experience, Major?”
Doubly snide of him to take that tone and to reference Zahied’s former rank. Both of them had left old titles and allegiances to join the Commander’s Alliance. In contrast to the former Wrath, who had never maintained any real faith in the Empire or loyalty toward it, the former Major had taken longer to abandon a sense of duty to the Republic Senate’s authority. The water under the bridge felt like an incredibly trite thing to use as ammunition.
If he was fishing for outrage, Tarskal was trying too hard. They both knew Zahied would have been rolling his eyes, if he weren’t focused on the task in his hands: turning his rifle this way & that, examining and cleaning it thoroughly. The soldier did wrinkle his nose, and let the corner of his mouth curl with disapproval under his coarse, thin beard. 
“Very often I wonder why I talk to you. Then I remind myself not to think too hard about it, because I hate what it says about my life. So yeah; same principle.”
The Sith had wandered into his room, wanting to be heard while he complained. Now Tarskal had finally started paying attention in return. His eyes narrowed to read Zahied’s expression, then were drawn to the practiced motions of his hands.
“I haven’t got any of your issues with self-flagellating, though; /I/ only make decisions I feel great about. Why wouldn’t I want to acknowledge my own theory?”
Directing the bad mood outwards. They’d had these exchanges too many times for Zahied not to recognize the way that Tarskal threaded constant derision through a conversation when something had him acting sullen. Recognition made it less likely for Tarskal to get a rise from him, and when the subject of conversation didn’t even relate to him: the insults hardly registered as more than noise.
“I’m not the one who’s a mind-reader,” Zahied scoffed quietly down the barrel of the gun. He raised the scope to one eye, then lowered it again to make a series of adjustments. “Does your dark power not work on your wife because she has her own?”
“I don’t read minds.”
Tarskal always was quick to correct a technical inaccuracy; it was uncharacteristic of him to sound so indifferent about it. He must be on autopilot, his obnoxious habits taking over where he had stopped paying attention.
Zahied stopped what he was doing, a thumb trailing the blaster grip while the hand with his dust-rag held the body of the weapon carefully.
Tarskal still stared at the assembly of parts—or at his hands.
Trying not to be disoriented by the fixation (and wishing in the moment that /he/ could read minds), Zahied returned the gaze of the physically formidable man occupying his spare desk chair.
“We’ve been packed-in together on this planet, all wedged inside this base—for how long now? I still don’t know much more about her than I did when you and I were ostensibly enemies, in the days when she never left Imperial space. When you were a ceremonial ‘personal murderer to the Emperor’, and she was Darth Tajna, Sith council member. Important people. Out at big Sith parties together; making appearances. Your status reflected off each other’s because you were married, which might have made you some of the best-known people in your former Empire.”
“Do you realize,” Zahied went on, clamping the skeletal rifle onto the surface of the desk beside them and growing more confrontational, “—you might want to take a note—I’ve barely seen the pair of you interact in public? Here you haven’t gone walking around with her arm linked in yours, boasting about your wife. No; you follow the Commander door-to-door on her heels. When you’ve got a pet project, you chew her ear off coming and going. Anytime you’re having a disagreement in a meeting or coming back from a mission that didn’t pan out for you—we /all/ hear what you think of her. Have you not thought /maybe/ you look obsessed?” 
With Tarskal still pointedly blank-faced, Zahied put forward a hand in a gesture to preempt immediate answer, then measured his words slowly, “And you’re her asset now. One of us pieces she can put in play in the all-or-nothing game we’re playing—you don’t trust her, do you?”
Tarskal’s eyebrows had scrunched together when he was instructed toward silence, but rose with a sharp cant of his head at the question he hadn’t been prepared for. 
“Trust Juli? Is that something you think I would do?”
Zahied nearly matched the startled look that had been directed at him, taking his turn to be caught off-guard. “/Excuse me/? Did you— Call someone their damn name?”
A cold note of caution and of warning in his eyes, Tarskal cocked his head a different angle, chin lowered while he sat straighter.
Though he knew him too well to be intimidated by posturing, Zahied still felt his overtuned sense of alertness cast a shadow, tripping the pattern of his heartbeat and prickling the hair at the back of his neck. It was a signal too muddy with curiosity to feel like fear, but he held his tongue regardless.
The Sith tried to sound bored. “Bastard. I’ve called you your name plenty of times.”
“—If you say so.”
“It entertains you if I save it for a time my mouth’s full.”
Typically asinine, childish expressions of a bad mood— Or maybe he was trying to return to a comfort zone of vulgarity. Zahied felt instantly exhausted. His voice turned to salt, patience and interest rapidly evaporating in the presence of confrontational petulance.
“Not what I’m talking about, /Tarskal/.”
“Using their given name doesn’t mean anyone is special, /Zahied/.”
“Fuck’s sake...” He knew he had come this far on account of the small, undeserved amount of pity he felt for this empathy-blind shitheel. He knew it wouldn’t carry him much further.
He—of all people—knew an unsalvageable cause. But there were allowances he felt he... owed. In their... relationship.
This sort of conversation wasn’t a favour he was likely to see returned. There were other ways Tarskal had... helped him. Whether or not it was his intent at the time. Whether he would have been able to understand or not.
Jackass.
“I’m saying take a look at yourself— not in the mirror, for once. /Think/ which things you’ve been doing, and compare it to what you aren’t. I know you understand how it works. You put more energy into controlling your image than any sane person does—in ways that suit /you/. You don’t want to accept someone else’s idea of how to behave. Not even to reassure your wife. You have an aversion to considering others’ perspectives. You refuse to change. The same way you always do, and always will.”
The phrase ‘it takes one to know one’ came to mind, eye-to-eye with one of the the most stubborn hypocrites known to the galaxy.
Zahied waved a dismissive hand and looked away, self-conscious, transitioning to an abrupt conclusion of his thoughts.
“Maybe she expects too much. Loyalty in a way you didn’t promise—a way she knows you’ve never offered. Sometimes, when people know something with the part of their mind that’s rational, there’s emotions that still can’t believe it.”
Tarskal, actually, looked a little thrown by the sincerity and unexpectedly personal footnote on involuntary emotional convictions. His attitude wasn’t quite what it had been a moment ago.
They both knew Zahied hated to talk about himself nearly as much as Tarskal loved to talk about himself. Even if it was only implied, an indirect explanation for how other people might see a situation, it was rare for him to volunteer insight to the workings of his mind. Definitely none regarding his feelings.
“Hey,” Tarskal hadn’t stopped staring. The stiffness of his affronted posture had morphed into forward-leaning intrigue, heavy forearm settling along the edge of the desk, pushing aside abandoned tools and blaster pieces. “When did you start to like me? And did you ever get jealous because you knew you could only be my mistress?”
“Oh fuck /off/.” Nothing quite like a greying old man with a penchant for juvenile tactics. Zahied could give him pithy exasperation. That was already more than this level of idiocy warranted, when the idiot was after a reaction.
“Seriously; you like me. We’re like friends now.”
That? He would not engage with. “Are you done?”
“Do you think you’d be in love with me, if I loved you?”
And that— For only an instant, everything froze in him. He blanked. He was used to it; for about half his life now, his mind had instinctively fled the contemplation of loving relationships. 
But besides that: the sense of sacrilege was so immense as to invoke horror. 
The words should not have been able to come out of Tarskal’s mouth. Not even in curiosity. They should have caught at his throat, stopped, and turned back around to punch him in his lungs, curbing any subsequent attempt to voice a question like that.
Hastily, Zahied herded his thoughts back into his head, telling himself what had led to this. Reminding himself the prior conversation had nothing to do with him, and neither did this.
“Look; maybe you love your wife, maybe you don’t.” His ungainly gesticulations in the air betrayed the same frayed edge of discomfort and defensiveness as his cutting tone.
“You came to /me/ bitching about your problems—which might suggest you care, somehow.” He took a breath.  If his agitation caught Tarskal’s interest he’d never know peace. He needed this question go away. 
He ground his grimy fingers in the grimy cleaning rag, pretending to scour the grease from them until he was sure they weren’t trembling. “My advice, on top of everything else I’ve been saying: stop avoiding her. You feel like you can’t do something she wants, or be what she wants? Just don’t. We all disappoint other people; all the time. Take it or leave it. She’ll probably still like you.”
He brought his eyes to study Tarskal’s face again, impervious. “Definitely likes you more than I do.”
Tarskal smiled at him.
Zahied’s stomach lurched—not from anything roused in him, but because he felt his chair shunted forward, shrinking the gap between them. He was familiar enough to discern Force-user bullshit in an instant.
Chair-to-chair, front-to-front, Tarskal’s thighs were either side of his knees. The Sith’s hands slid to cover them, palms warm through the thick texture of his pantlegs, and that smug face drew closer to his.
“Hey. Do you want to finish polishing your blaster now? Or you want to leave it, and I’ll ‘polish your blaster’ if you know what I mean—”
“—I might hate you, actually.”
“You like me /so/ much.”
Familiar territory was, in fact, a welcome relief.
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runrundoyourstuff · 4 years ago
Text
Redirection
(Avatar: the Last Airbender one-shot, rated: T, 2,015 words)
cn: for implied/referenced child abuse
--
He’s not explicitly invited to the Agni Kai, but no one attempts to hide it from him—though in retrospect, long after, once he finally has time to process, this fact will strike him as odd. Wouldn’t someone have expected him to protest, had he known? But then only Azula knew the depths of his ambivalence in Ba Sing Se, and had apparently elected to keep it hidden in her sleeves like so many of her plots, no doubt to brandish as a secret weapon should the need present itself.
In any case, when Zuko does hear of the duel, he must convince himself to attend. All the royals—(all the free royals)—will be there, after all. It’s an honor. The nobles in his father’s court would be suspicious if he weren’t present. And besides, though he hasn’t seen the inside of the arena since before his banishment, since he was a child, since...since he—since his father…since the day he got his scar, it’s not as though he’ll be fighting this time. (For that matter, he doesn’t yet know who is involved in this Agni Kai—just that one or both of the combatants is notable enough within Court for this to be an event.)
He manages to calm his trembling knees in time to enter the arena before the proceedings began, but just barely. Zuko wafts in, hands clenched at his sides, trying and failing not to think about what it looks like, how his uncle’s reputation for tardiness might have rubbed off on him—all the times Uncle had lingered behind at a port-of-call, delaying Zuko’s carefully crafted schedules, (you worry too much Prince Zuko, you should rest, a man needs his rest). But when he finds his seat in the section designated for the royal family, only Azula is there waiting for him.
“Where’s Father?”
Azula smirks. “Well, hello to you too, Zuzu. Here for the show?”
“Where is he?!”
Azula steadily moves her gaze to the platform in the center of the arena, and when Zuko follows it there, his hand finds the branded skin on his face, stomach tumbling out from within him, blood flushing like he imagines it would if the sun were to disappear from the sky.
Ozai stands there, elevated, ceremonial Agni Kai garnet draped around his bare shoulders, just as it had been three years ago.
Zuko inhales. “Who…?”
“Just watch, Dum-dum.”
But he doesn’t have to watch long. After a moment, two members of the Royal Guard appear, dragging a lump of a third person up onto the stage. They drop him there, bare-chested, clad only in ragged dueling pants because the Agni Kai sash falls from his shoulders as he hits the tile floor, and though he’s conscious, he doesn’t seem to have the strength to readjust his position.
Zuko cries out, leaping to his feet. “What’d they do to him?!”
“Really, Zuko, you’re causing a scene.”
If anyone turns toward him at his outburst, Zuko doesn’t see it. His focus is singularly on the platform. The guards seem to laugh as they retreat from the stage and leave the man there—Zuko can tell even beneath their masks, people have been looking at him that body language for years: the way their chests rise and fall, how they tilt their heads back like they don’t have a care in the Agni-forsaken world. They’re looking at him and laughing, like they don’t care that this is what’s become of the Dragon of the West, who used to be their Crown Prince, their general, their hero, like they think it’s funny...
“Azula!” he demands.
“Perhaps he was simply always feebler than you remember.”
“He was not! The only reason he didn’t destroy us in Ba Sing Se is because he wanted to give the Avatar time to get away—”
Azula raises an eyebrow. “I thought the Avatar was dead.”
“—they did something to him! Drugged him, or beat him, or something—don’t you care?!”
She shrugs. “He’s a traitor.”
“He’s our uncle!”
“I guess I’m just not as sentimental as you are, Zuzu.”
“But why—” On the stage below, Ozai looms over his brother, burying him in a dark shadow. “Why is he...Is Father going to duel him?”
“It’s not going to be much of a duel, if you ask me.” A pause, and then she continues. “You didn’t think Father would let treachery like Uncle’s go unpunished, did you?”
“But…” But he’s his brother. The words die on Zuko’s lips. Yes, Uncle’s his brother. And Ursa was his wife, and what did that matter? And…
Blood rushes to his face, and it burns—it burns—like it’s on fire.
Uncle is on his knees, and it looks almost like a prostration.
And I was his son.
Ozai doesn’t even bother moving to the starting position, just shrugs the ceremonial garnet off his shoulders to signal his intent to begin. “Well, brother,” he smirks in a voice loud enough for the entire arena to hear. “You have betrayed your Nation and your Fire Lord. Will you fight for your honor?”
Uncle just barely manages to lift his head. If he says anything, it’s too faint for Zuko to hear.
“Sad,” Ozai continues, projecting, raising his hands with his voice. “That this is what has become of the famed Dragon of the West. And to think that this country once thought that you would be their ruler.”
Something in Zuko’s chest lurches, like it’s trying to escape, to run from the fire it knows is coming, that lives in its muscle memory. Family sticks together, Uncle had told Zuko once, had shown him patiently, over-and over-again every day for three long years, even when Zuko screamed that he didn’t want to see it.
Family sticks together. Family does not raise hands to each other with the sort of glint that is currently in his father’s eyes and speak gleefully about it. Family does not orchestrate public duels and give whatever orders are necessary to ensure that those duels are just for show.
This is wrong. Even if—if—Uncle is a traitor, this is wrong. Uncle is Father’s brother. Uncle is on his knees. This is Uncle. And Ozai looms over him, flames growing in his palms, and Zuko’s fingers clench in his lap, his head, his chest buzz...This is wrong.
(And if this is wrong…)
(Zuko had been on his knees once. Ozai had towered, fire growing in his hands…)
(If this is wrong…)
“My Nation is fortunate,” Ozai smiles, angling his hands toward his brother. “That I am here to purge it of such weakness.”
And then whatever it is that had been screaming in Zuko’s chest bursts forth, mingles with all the lingering doubts that have been living in his mind the past several weeks since his return home. And Zuko doesn’t know what he is about to do until he does it, springs to his feet in the most honored seats of the arena, and yells in a voice as loud as Ozai’s so that there is no one in the entire stadium who will not be able to hear: “Stop!”
This time, when all eyes turn to him, Zuko feels them. But he doesn’t move his own gaze from his father—who has turned toward him, smile fading from his face, flames flaring in his hands—and it’s just enough to make the man hesitate. But the flame is still growing, and Ozai has a history of venting his red-hot anger onto any in the vicinity. (Not anyonein the vicinity, Zuko will think later—much later, after he has time to process, not only this moment but everything else too—Ozai has a history of unleashing his anger on the most vulnerable target. Once, that was Zuko. Now, it’s Iroh.)
In the present, Zuko doesn’t waste the opportunity. He propels himself forward into the air and toward the stage with Firebending, and it’s not until he’s halfway there that he feels the fear sink in his stomach, not until he lands in front of Uncle that he feels the tremble behind his knees. But he remains upright, and whatever he feels, he wills his face to be the same level of impassive as it was behind the Blue Spirit mask before he’d cast it away.
“Zuko...no…” Uncle’s voice is a murmur behind him, but there are resonances of a moment of when it was much stronger. You never think these things through!
And it’s true, he knows now, no matter what he’d yelled under that lake. But sometimes you can’t think things through, or you’ll be paralyzed, and sometimes there’s no time, you just have to act…
He clenches his fist.
“Why does it not come as a surprise that you’re a traitor too?” Ozai snarls. “I should have killed you three years ago and spared myself the embarrassment!”
“Maybe,” Zuko hears himself say, and to his surprise his voice is steady. “But you didn’t.” A pause, and then: “Leave my uncle alone.”
“Treachery must be punished. He will fight for his honor!”
“This isn't a fight! It's a show! You know you can’t beat him for real, so you staged this whole thing just so the country will think you look stronger than you are!”
“Zuko…” Uncle’s whispers grow desperate, but Zuko doesn’t turn.
Ozai’s nostrils flare. “How dare—”
“It’s just another lie! Like all the lies you told us about how the Fire Nation is the greatest civilization in the world! Like the lies you were willing to tell to all those young soldiers you’ve sent to die…”
“Zuko…”
“You will pay for this insolence—”
“But the truth is that we’re not the greatest country in the world! And the truth is that Uncle Iroh is better than you are! He’s stronger, he’s a better father, and he would have been a better Fire Lord!”
It’s not a surprise when the lightning comes barreling toward him from his father’s fingers. And even though Zuko knows the technique in theory, executing it in practice brings him precariously close to reckoning with his own mortality. He catches the blast with his fingers, and it pushes him backward. He just manages to dig his heels into the floor and stop himself before he ploughs into Uncle and spills the electricity onto him—which would defeat the entire purpose of this whole charade—but it festers in his own arm, like it’s singeing it from the inside, and it’s going to kill him, it’s going to kill him, Agni, he’s going to die, and he didn’t think he’d care, or that that would scare him, not after everything, but he...he doesn’t want…
“Breathe...Zuko.”
Uncle’s voice is nothing more than a rasp, but it grounds him nonetheless. Zuko inhales, then releases, lightning still festering at his fingertips.
“Focus...your...energy. In...Down...Up…Out.”
Another breath, and then Zuko obeys, just like Uncle taught him in the ruins of forgotten that Earth Kingdom town, a lifetime ago now, it seems. And when he lets the lightning fly out of his other arm, he angles it upward, toward the roof of the arena, where it explodes on contact in a fiery burst.
Later, Zuko will think with a wry irony that he ought to make an offering in gratitude to Agni that things always seem to blow up in his face, because it’s that fact that ultimately seems to save him. The center of the ceiling of the stadium collapses as it detonates, and for the second time in minutes, Zuko doesn’t waste the opportunity that presents itself. In the chaos that ensues as chunks of tile and plaster falls to the stage between him and Ozai, as all the Royal Guard is occupied with protecting their monarch from falling debris, Zuko hauls Uncle onto his shoulders and flees.
It’s not until they’re well beyond not only the palace, but indeed the very walls of the city itself that he brings himself to look back.
[ao3]
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osakigitsune · 2 years ago
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Day 10: Odysseus and Penelope
Days. Months. Years. Decades. It had been far too long since the queen had last seen her beloved Naruto, and having practically every man throw themselves at her was tiring! For them to assume he was dead was practical; still, she knew better. She could sense that he was still out there. Whether he was across the globe, in another country, or towns away, she would wait for him, even on her deathbed. No one else could have her heart or soul. She was eternally his. Twenty years. Her mind was lost in waiting for her dear lost Naruto. Repeatedly having the suitors throw themselves at her, she devised a plan after spotting a familiar blonde dressed in tattered rags. There was no indication that it was her love, but she’d take every chance to test her theory out. “Listen up. - I’ll marry whoever -” It was evident that many of the suitor’s eyes lit up, but she wasn’t finished. “Can shoot an arrow through a row of twelve axes using Odssyeus’ great bow.” Immediately, the sudden hope or thought that they had a chance was gone. There was no possibility that they stood a chance regarding this test. Observing each go through the test, no one could pull back the string, having no way of succeeding. Eyes briefly meeting the blonde’s, there was an instant spark. Never had Hinata felt that for anyone besides her king. She held her breath while waiting for him to draw the string and latch the arrow. “...Naruto-kun…” She mumbles under her breath. Watching him let the string go, the arrow pierces threw and cuts through all twelve axes. Withholding herself from tackling him there and then, her pale lavender hues analyze him closely. Within seconds, the tables turned, and the blonde aimed his bow at the suitors. Eyes widening, Hinata gaped in horror. What was he thinking?! Man after man getting pierced by his arrows, she felt her heart practically jump out of her chest. She hadn’t noticed until later that her son and another man had joined the killing spree. The men may have all been beyond cruel toward the beggar, but did that mean they deserved death? Thinking about it, they had been trying to win her hand in marriage while Naruto was out for decades. Was this Naruto reclaiming his throne and ridding their kingdom of those who denied him? In minutes, they’re all slaughtered; all left is their family and an ally. Teary eyes, Hinata rushes over and throws herself at her lover. Without warning, her lips press against his. It had been far too long! Naruto returned her passionate kiss. Rough, calloused hands threading through her silky hair, he tightens his embrace on his wife. He had dreamt of this moment soon after he had left twenty years before, and to be reunited with his lover, he couldn’t ask for more! Ignoring his filthy garments and state, Hinata broke away from her partner and longingly gazed into her husband’s cerulean orbs. “... I missed you.” “I missed you too, Hinata… it’s been far too long.” Hinata pushed herself up on her toes and pecked his lips once more. “... please, don’t make me wait as long again… I wanted no one but you. Still, I fought all temptations to give up, I knew it in my heart that you were still alive.” Cupping her face, Naruto lovingly reassures her. “... I won’t. I still need to finish some business. I promise to not leave you hanging this time, Hinata… I won’t put you through that again.”
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