#asmas thoughts

[asmaroth]

[taryn40k]

...Anyways, happy pride month everybody, new chapter of Chaos Roadtrip, in which we do some Casual Robbery of Imperium ships! :D (And a tiny bit of Khorne Worship on the side too!)

[chanafehs]

asma in the grey warden armor....just a thought

[wastelandcities]

Palestinian fundraisers

I thought I would make a list of Palestinian fundraisers of people who have reached out to me. I encourage you to take some time to read the stories of these people who have been going through horrible things we can't even imagine and please share and consider donating if you can. Please remember that even a small donation can make a difference. I will be updating this post regularly.

Wafaa Resh @wafaaresh6 – $7,635 USD raised out of $50,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Falestine @falestine-yousef – $16,743 USD raised out of $40,000. Donate here. (Vetted)

Fidaa @fidaa-family2, sister of @wafaaresh6 – $20,380 USD raised out of $30,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Shaima @shaimaasblog – €1,231 raised out of €50,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Mohammad Ayyad @yasermohammad – €19,491 raised out of €35,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted by 90-ghost)

Mahmoud Alkhaldi @mahmoud-1995 – $13,659 USD raised of $50,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Hashem @hashem1979 – $175 USD raised out of $60,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Mohammed Almanasra @save-mohamed-family – $12,398 CAD raised out of $50,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted, number 192)

Abdelrahman @anqar – €17,719 raised out of €20,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Amal @helpamalm – €437 raised out of €53,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Dr. Husam Farhat @shamfarhat1 – $6,207 USD raised of $29,500. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted, number 248)

Osama Basil @lets-help-osama – €1,851 raised out of €15,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Mohammad Taysir @yazanfamilly – €12,559 raised out of €50,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Walid Al-Qatrawi @waled-family – donate here or here. Read story here.

Ola @olagaza1 – $41,113 USD raised out of $50,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted, number 205)

Mohamed Hussein Ismail @m8hammed – €9,833 raised out of €25,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Asma Ayyad @asmaayyad – €14,728 raised out of €45,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Haya @hayanahed – €82,368 raised out of €100,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted, number 26)

Omar @omargaze – £6,952 raised out of £20,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted by association)

Samar Shamiya @samarsh97 – €7,125 raised out of €45,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Mohie @mohiy-gaza – $22,576 USD raised out of $31,000. Donate here. (Vetted)

Muhammad Atallah @atalah-mohammed – €14,316 raised out of €82,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Fatima Alanqar – €7,315 raised out of €20,000. Donate here.

Mohammed Alwadya @monaalwadya – $3,714 USD raised out of $35,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Ahmed Halas @ahmeadhilles – €12,912 raised out of €80,000. Donate here.

Ahmed @ahmadresh – $10,796 USD raised out of $31,000. Donate here. Read story here. (Vetted)

Moamen Majed @moamenmajed-gaza – $8,083 USD raised out of $30,000. Donate here.

Ashraf Alanqar @ashraf-family2 – €20,776 raised out of €25,000. Donate here.

Ahmed Alanqar @ahmedabuyamin – €55,249 raised out of €59,000. Donate here.

Amal @amlanqar – €8,611 raised out of €50,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Diya @familydeea – $24,570 CAD raised of $90,000. Donate here. Read story here.

Mohammed Alanqer @mohamedalanqer – €58,790 raised out of €60,000. Donate here.

Laila @lailashaquora – €29,543 raised out of €45,000. Donate here. Read story here.

[katerinaaqu]

Hello and welcome to this corner of contradictions! I am a proud Greek archeologist and singer who loves mythology and worldbuilding! This page will be dealing with various themes but mostly fanart related to the TV series, comic and manga such as W.I.T.C.H and OCs to them.

Some of my work includes creating music such as:

Ballard's Sad Flute

or singing:

Dilla's Songchord (Avatar AU)

Some of the fanfictions that I do write on this fandom do include the below works, mostly one-shots and analysis on the worldbuilding

Hidden Truth Prequel: The Peak of Madness -complete-

(Diego -OC- slowly loses his mind and agony while waiting for his brother Caleb to show signs of life. Believing he truly is abandoned by everything and everyone, Diego uses his magic to do the unforgivable; take Caleb's form and hold his brother prisoner!)

Uneasy Lies The Head -complete-

(Diego is tormented by his guilt for what he did. And so he dreams and his dreams are nightmarish; mix of memory and dream)

~~~

Aditionally this page is also on occasion dealing with Greek mythos and poetry, particularly the homeric epics (Iliad and Odyssey) and the characters involved at them (with some special emphasis on Odysseus and the people who got related with him)

Some of the stories:

Guilt:

(Odysseus is being guilt-stroke and horrified by the success of his plan to take Troy and by the Greek rage upon it and sinks to a series of thoughts and flashbacks) -complete-

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Survivor's Guilt and Survivor's Duty:

(Odysseus loses his last ship and last comrades at the sea, roams about for 9 days helpless and beaches at Ogygia where even more trauma awaits him) -complete-

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Gone with the Wind:

(Odysseus remains awake for 9 days guarding the sack given to them by Aeolus in order to reach his home faster. However soon he finds out that sleepless nights take a toll on him and the consequences are severe...) -complete-

Part 1

Part 2

The Death of Odysseus:

(The final moments of the king of Ithaca, based on the prophecy of Tiresias in the Odyssey. Odysseus has lived a long life and meets his end while finally meeting with an old friend...and his journey to the Underworld begins...) -complete-

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

(Extra): The Funeral

Ismarus! Ismarus!:

(Odysseus and his men leave from Troy but are devided from the rest of the fleets by a storm. They find themselves in Thrace to the city of Ismarus where Odysseus decides they should raid the land of Cicones) -complete-

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

~~~

Short Stories

If I never knew you

Odysseus Leaving Ithaca (random Pocahontas inspo)

Odysseus and Helen

Argos (analysis and tiny scene A Tribute to Argos)

Screams and Shadows in the Night (Odysseus and Nausicaa one-shot)

Philoctetes Inspiration (Odysseus and Diomedes one-shot)

Philoctetes Inspiration 2 (Odysseus, Diomedes Philoctetes and Neoptolemus one-shot)

Ruthless Justice (Odysseus and Telemachus one-shot)

The Will to Die The Need to Survive (Odysseus and Calypso one-shot)

Escape from Cyclops Island: Hubris

I Take that Back (Odysseus Menelaus and Diomedes one-shot)

The Why never asked and the Because that never mattered (Helen and Menelaus one-shot)

The Lament for a Life (Achilles and Antilochus short songfic)

It's you; always has been you! (Neoptolemous songfic)

What makes the Heart Beat (Achilles and Antilochus one-shot)

Pomegranate Spell (Patrochilles and Achillochus story)

Guard Dog (a Patroclus and his dogs one-shot)

Kynaeon Asma (Achilles and Antilochus one-shot)

[mariacallous]

Nighat Dad grew up in a conservative family in Jhang, in Pakistan’s Punjab province. The threat of early marriage hung over her childhood like a cloud. But despite their traditional values, Dad’s parents were determined that all their children get an education, and they moved the family to Karachi so she could complete her bachelor’s degree. “I never really thought I would work, because I was never taught that we could work and be independent,” she says. “We always needed permission to do anything.”

Dad thought a master’s in law might delay the inevitable betrothal, but soon after she completed the course, she found out her parents had arranged a marriage for her. She didn’t mind her new life of domestic chores in a household she describes as “lower-middle class”—that is, until the abuse started. “That’s when my legal education reminded me that this was wrong,” she says. “Our laws, our constitution, everything protects me, so why was I facing this? Why was I tolerating it?”

With her family’s backing, Dad left her husband and filed for divorce. But after years of domestic violence and abuse and with no experience of working, she struggled with a lack of confidence. “I had no idea that women who are divorced and have a child face such difficulties in a society like ours,” she says. When her ex-husband filed a custody case for their 2-month-old baby, Dad wasn’t sure how she would pay for a lawyer. That’s when her father reminded her that she was a lawyer too.

Dad used her degree to win custody of her only child. In the process, she realized how many women in Pakistan were facing years of violence and systemic injustice. But the thing that bothered her most was the digital divide.

Before her marriage, Dad’s family never allowed her access to her own cell phone, and when she finally did get one, her husband would use it as a surveillance tool—keeping track of who she called and who was texting her. She had an escape tool in her hand, but she couldn’t use it. “Going through that by myself made me realize how quickly technology is evolving, and how it’s creating virtual spaces for marginalized communities that might not have access to physical ones,” she says. “Facing those restrictions made me understand just how crucial it is to challenge societal norms and structures around women's access to technology and the internet, so they can use it as freely as men.”

In 2012, Dad established the Digital Rights Foundation, an NGO that aims to address the digital divide and fight online abuse of women and other gender minorities in Pakistan. She began by helping women who reached out to the organization, providing advice on digital safety and emotional and mental support. In 2016—the same year Pakistan finally passed legislation against online crimes—Dad and her team launched a cyber-harassment helpline. Since 2016, it has addressed more than 16,000 complaints from across the country. “Sometimes, the police would give our phone numbers to victims seeking reliable help,” she says.

The DRF’s in-house legal team offers pro bono advice and helps women file and follow-up complaints against their abusers. “In many cases, we were successful in actually getting the perpetrator arrested and taken to trial,” Dad says. In October 2021, the DRF’s legal team helped journalist Asma Shirazi win a landmark case in the Islamabad High Court against broadcaster ARY News, after she became the target of a coordinated troll campaign which was exacerbated by a false story aired on the channel.

“If an organization like the DRF had existed when I was facing my own issues, I would have felt so much more supported—knowing there was someone to guide me legally and help me navigate the complexities,” she says. “My abuse started with surveillance, and if I had someone to talk to back then, I might have avoided the deep depression that followed. I might not have ended up in such a miserable situation.”

Today, Dad and the DRF are helping to steer global conversations about tech policy reform. She recently joined the United Nations’ AI Advisory Board, and was a founder member of Meta’s Oversight Board, which acts as an independent platform for people to appeal decisions made by the social media giant. “The emerging tech space is mostly driven by big Western companies and governments, leaving out civil society NGOs from the Global South,” she says. “This puts us far behind in global AI governance, always playing catch-up in a fast-moving world. If we’re not part of the conversation, the gap just keeps widening. It’s about reminding the powerful that they can’t win this race alone—they have a responsibility to include the rest of the world, especially those without the same resources.”

[racoonstudies]

Maybe, he thought, it was okay if some dreams took a long time to come true, as long as they keep you moving forward. Maybe it was okay if what you achieved wasn't exactly like you dreamt, as long as you were content with it. Maybe it was okay if you were a different person from then, as long as you were happy.

– The Land of Dreams and Nightmares @asma-writes

[realitycheckin]

Tahajjud Tangent: Trust, Patience, and the Diseases of the Heart (inspired by Mihed Asma's podcast, "Wherever you're at" ep 17)

Clarity only comes from Allah. Truth is only from Allah.

We have a tough choice to make daily: follow the truth or be easily deluded. Sometimes, we may be tested on this matter, how easily deluded we are. How easily do we fall into a certain conclusive belief about a matter? How many angles do we view it from? Do we simply believe what we are told, and only what we perceive?

Well, Allah perceives, and we perceive not.

It's challenging, don't get me wrong. It's hard. But it's dangerous as well. Limiting hope, giving up quickly, this is common in all of us these days.

“I know for sure.” “I’ve already figured this out.”

Su' al-dhann (having a bad opinion), kibr (arrogance), and ujb (self-admiration or self-reliance), these are diseases of the heart, and we carry them so ignorantly these days. These diseases may block the blessings of Allah from reaching us.

These diseases of the heart are indeed from Shaytan. They stem from his whispers and attempts to lead people astray by sowing seeds of pride, negativity, and a lack of humility.

Shaytan loves to exploit broken hearts. He takes advantage of moments of weakness, sorrow, or distress to sow confusion, despair, and negative thoughts. He whispers doubts and pushes people further away from Allah by making them feel isolated, unworthy, or lost. Shaytan wants to keep us in that state of despair because it makes us vulnerable to his influence.

However, Allah is close to the broken-hearted, and He is the one who heals and brings comfort to those who are in pain. There’s a beautiful Hadith in which the Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) says that Allah is near to His servants, especially those in distress. Allah Himself promises to be close to those who turn to Him with a sincere heart, especially when they are feeling broken or vulnerable.

The Prophet ﷺ said, “Having bad assumptions is the most false of speech,” and in a Hadith Qudsi, Allah ﷻ says, “I am as My servant thinks of Me.”

So, فبأي آلاء ربكما تكذبان؟

This especially is seen nowadays: the more individualistic and narcissistic our society becomes, the more arrogance we build around our knowledge. The lack of humility, because now everything is labeled as “being a pick-me.”

The world has reached a drunken state. Consciousness has been poisoned by the toxic waste of brain rot.

And I will not claim to exaggerate, nothing good, except a dopamine rush, has been cultivated from all this.

We cannot process feelings or information. We do not empathize. We take everything as a joke.

I’ve seen how pride and insensitivity can creep in, even in serious conversations. Sometimes, people (and myself included) fail to hold space for the emotional weight others carry, brushing it off with “everyone goes through things.” But hardships are personal, and they’re assigned by Allah with wisdom. Dismissing them shows not knowledge, but a lack of humility. لَا حَوْلَ وَلَا قُوَّةَ إِلَّا بِاللَّهِ.

Wallahi, we must be patient with our brothers and sisters, but also seek those who are better than you.

And those of you who are sought because you are better, look to help better them. Do not shun them away.

For there is a goodness in you which they wish to attain. So seek to help them attain it, through your words and actions.

And the best of you are those who are patient.

We have cures for these diseases: Tawakkul (reliance on Allah) and Husn al-dhann (having a good opinion of Allah).

So often, I have come across a matter where one feels and thinks well of their Lord, and then fellow Muslims call them delusional.

Is Allah not رَبُّ ٱلْمَشْرِقَيْنِ وَرَبُّ ٱلْمَغْرِبَيْنِ?

To know the names and attributes of Allah also helps remove that arrogance and ignorance from the heart. For verily, the one who interprets his knowledge as realistic to this dunya(in the sense of there being nothing outside of it), he has known nothing.

(13:28) "Verily, in the remembrance of Allah do hearts find rest."

"أَلَا بِذِكْرِ اللَّهِ تَطْمَئِنُّ الْقُلُوبُ"

[year2000electronics]

thought your bill design was asma for a second

somehow i always knew this day was coming

[asmaroth]

how it feels rn to fight on the bug front as someone whos done nothing but bots/squids for the past month moodboard

[taryn40k]

Let's learn to be a good Thousand Son with mama with master Khepri Apophis, Wytchlord, Master of the Seven Sigils of Ahriman, son of Magnus the Red! :D (This is a much fanart as it is a fan headcanon. Bear with me. XD)

So Meryre, in the optic of learning HOW to be a good sorcerer, has been lended to the Thousand Sons for a bit. Yanis was tired of seeing him perform way under the usual "graduates" of the demonculaba, and thus he was hoping that the kid might shine in the domaine of sorcery. However, since he has zero interest in psyker bullshit and Asma is way too heavy on the faith, he dropped Mery at the planet of the sorcerers and told him to learn, that he would be back to see if he made any progress. Quite honestly, Mery had a wonderful time once the Thousand Sons recovered from the shock of seeing a Iron-Warrior-born brother. You have to understand, Yanis was never concerned about his looks, poor Mery walked in with zero confidence, in a functional grey shirt, with no sense of style and a few notions on magic he just picked up instinctively! There was a LOT of work to do! (And he was already traumatized and trying to act like an Iron Warrior neophyte. They had to work to break this rigidity and teach him creativity!) Now my brain went "you know who could give him a sense of style and a flare for the dramatic and teach him soul sorcery? Khepri. It would be very funny." XD Who better to teach him to be a failed pretty boy with actual real power than the Wytchlord himself? :D Obviously this is only canon if @sorormaior lets me slide their boy into my boy's backstory for fun, it is unlikely to come up regardless. But it is a fun thought! :D "First thing you are going to learn-" "The basics of warp safety?" "No. Proper kohl application. Your eyeliner needs to be as sharp as your mind, tilt your face up!"

[kirstythejetblackgoldfish]

Theoretical question, answer as seriously or as headcanon/silly as you like:

How do you think an Assad-Erdogan meeting would've turned out if it had happened?

[chanafehs]

answer me THIS 👉🏽 what did Asma think of Cullen in the beginning

I mean in a way she found him pretty refreshing. Compared to everyone hailing her as some kind of religious figure who has to fight for their own religious cause, Cullen was very straight forward and honest about why he needed her cooperation. Being told “hey we need that mark on your hand. Idk about everyone else but that’s what we to seal the breach” didn’t make her suddenly friendly to the inquisition but it humanized her in a way that nobody else in the inner circle (at the time) did. She could care less what the Inquisition or chantry wanted from her but sealing the breach? Something that might grow to kill her and her loved ones? That’s a more reasonable cause to fight behind than what Leliana or Cassandra suggested.

She’s no friend of the templars and while she did eventually go fully conscript the mages at Redcliffe, cullen’s counsel gave her a lot to consider. I mean he’s not wrong - throwing more magic at something that is already unstable and unknown to them and then walking into a trap in the middle of a guarded castles isn’t really a smart idea. Asma’s a mage but she isn’t a fool - she knows what magic is capable of if used by the wrong hands especially because of her own past. Asma just thought chances of her *own* survival were better at Redcliffe amongst the mages than surrounded by templars. Plus she hates Tevinter more than anything so anyway to hinder them she’ll take.

While she is unfriendly to everyone in the inquisition, including Cullen atp in time, his honesty and past peaks her curiosity - hes straight with her so she’s straight with him she also thinks he’s hot but she’s not admitting any feelings to humans rn. They’re still on her shit list

[dumbass-tumbler-cryptid]

In your last au what would happen if spider has an asma attack or got sick during the drills

Ooh I love this idea.

Part 1, Part 2

So let’s say Spider has a really bad asthma attack around late November. Hunter has been getting special treatment for only about a week or two. Spider is outside running laps in the bitter cold while his brother is snug as a bug inside, enjoying evening free time instead. So Spider is alone when his lungs spasm painfully making him collapse to the ground. He’s suffocating as he desperately claws his pockets for his inhaler. Despite how shitty his dad is the man makes sure he has it on him every day. After taking his medicine, Spider just lays there, trying to come down from the panic. He can hear his father shouting in the distance, “come on Miles! You’re faster then this! Y’a should have been back two minutes ago! If y’a don’t get your ass in gear you’re gonna run it again!” So he forces himself to get up and keep moving.

When he gets back to the cabin his father immediately seizes him by the face, inspecting him hard. “What happened. I know exactly how long it takes y’a to run that corse.”

“I guess I’ve gotten slower,” Spider says, venom in his voice.

His father’s eyes flash so dangerously he’s surprised he doesn’t get smacked. “You’re a rotten liar. You’re pale, you’re dirty. Did you have an asthma attack?”

What would you do if I did Spider wonders. Would he blow it off completely or worse would he coddle him like a child. Spider didn’t want to find out. He smacks Quaritch’s hands away. “I just fell. There y’a happy. I tripped over my own two feet and ate shit.”

Quaritch clearly doesn’t believe him, “you fell? Without getting a single scratch?”

Spider shrugged, “I’m lucky like that.”

“A huh. Get inside. You’re gonna take a nice hot bath. And then I want y’a in your pjs and by the fire. That’s an order.”

Spider’s stunned and insanely uncomfortable. “I’m fine. I can do the rest of the drills…” Quaritch clenches his jaw, grabbing Spider by the collar of his jacket. He drags him inside then pushes him onto the couch.

“We’re gonna work on that disrespect young man,” Quaritch says sternly, “and the lying. You had an asthma attack and I know it. How bad was it?”

“I didn’t have an…”

“Miles if one more lie comes out of your mouth I’m gonna whip your ass. Now either tell the truth or shut your mouth but if you lie…” he lets the threat hang in the air. Spider stays quiet, avoiding eye contact. “That’s what I thought! Now stay right there. Don’t you dare move!” His father goes off to draw him a bath. Spider does as he’s told silently sulking.

Hunter pokes his head around the corner, “are you okay?”

Spider smiles softly at his brother, “yeah. I’m okay.”

“Did you really have an asthma attack.” Spider shakes his head yes. “Was it bad?” Again Spider nods yes. Without another word Hunter sits nexts to him, resting his head on his big brother’s shoulder. Spider rests his cheeks on top of Hunter’s hair.

The moment is ruined when Quaritch returns. “Alright Miles get up. There’s a hot bath waiting for y’a. Stay in there for a good long time.”

Reluctantly Spider gets up, “yes sir,” he says with very little respect in his tone.

When Spider is gone Quaritch turns to his youngest. “Did your brother have an asthma attack?” Hunter looks like a deer caught in head lights. Slowly he shakes his head yes. “Was it bad?” Another silent yes. Quaritch reaches out to pet Hunter’s hair. “Good boy. You’re doing the right thing by telling me.” Despite his stomach twisting from betraying his brother Hunter glows from his father’s praise.

When Spider gets done with his bath he actually feels really good. Quaritch put epson salt in it to help Spider’s sore, over worked muscles recover for the first time in weeks. When he enters his room a set of flannel pajamas and wool socks is layed out for him. When he returns to the living room Quaritch and Hunter are on the couch waiting for him. Quaritch gets up. “Take a seat son.” Spider looks at Quaritch like a caged animal, waiting to see his next move. Quaritch rolls his eyes then walks off to the kitchen. Spider takes a seat next to Hunter. When there dad gets back he throws a blanket over his sons and hands his eldest a hot mug of tea. “Drink that.”

“What is it?”

“Oh just poison. Jesus Miles can y’a stop fightin’ me! You’re not good at lying! I know y’a had an asthma attack! Now for Christ sake just let me take care of you!”

“Why should I! You’ve done nothing but torture me!”

“Oh I’m torturing you? Stop being dramatic. I haven’t done a thing to y’a that I haven’t been through myself. You’re a disrespectful, disobedient little brat. Now that’s not your fault. You’ve lived a hard life. What you need now is structure and discipline. It’s tough medicine but it’ll do y’a good. Now drink your tea.”

“I don’t want it.”

“Miles I swear to god…” without warning Spider flings his drink at his father then rushes out the door into the cold.

Quaritch is stunned but unharmed. He chases after his son. Spider doesn’t have a plan. He’s not really thinking of escaping. He’d never leave his brother behind. He just wants away from Quaritch. Spider can hear his father screaming after him but he doesn’t care. The cold air burns his lungs. The dead grass crunches with frost under his feet. He’s running as fast as he can. And then it happens again. His airways constrict. He can’t breathe. Spider falls to the ground making inhuman noises as he suffocates. Quaritch catches up to him falling right to his knees at his side. “Where’s your inhaler,” he says calmly. Spider shakes his head. “Dammit Miles I told you to always keep it on y’a!” With little effort Quaritch scoops Spider up in his arms and rushes him back to the cabin.

By the time they get back Spider has passed out. “Hunter! Get Miles’s inhaler!” Hunter rushes off to do just that. When he returns Spider is laying on the ground. His face is turning blue and he doesn’t look like he’s breathing. Quaritch starts CPR. It takes a moment but Quaritch gets Spider breathing again. Hunter starts crying in relief. Quaritch is shaking. Spider is still unconscious as Quaritch gets him into a fresh set of clothes then tucks him into bed, covering him in every blanket in the house. Hunter doesn’t want to go to sleep after that but Quaritch makes him. Quaritch can’t do the same. He stays up all night sitting by Spider’s bed, stroking his hair or his cheeks, near tears with the thought that his eldest could be dead right now.

The next day when Spider finally wakes up his father and brother are right there. He’s so confused and his chest feels like a boulder is sitting on it. “What happened,” he asks trying to sit up.

Quaritch pushes him back down, “you had a really bad asthma attack but you’re gonna be okay. You’re just gonna stay in bed today. Got it.”

Spider pales. He hates the idea of this monster taking care of him all day. Despite the fact that he feels like he got hit by a bus he says, “I feel fine. I can…”

“Miles Quaritch Jr! If you don’t stay in that fucking bed I will chain you to it! That is not a threat, it is a promise! Now just stop with the bullshit already.” Spider is caught off guard by the desperation in his father’s voice. He looks exhausted and sad. It makes the fight drain out of him. “Y’a done!” Spider just nods. “Good! Now I’m gonna go get the med kit. You’re gonna let me take your temperature and listen to your lungs. Got it.” Another nod. “You are not gettin’ out of that bed unless I say so and if you do…”

“You don’t make threats.” Spider hates how small his voice sounds.

“Good boy.” With that Quaritch stomps off.

Spider immediately turns to his brother. “What happened?”

Hunter cringes, “I…I think you almost died.” His eyes well up with tears just saying it out loud. Spider doesn’t respond, reeling from the shock.

He’s limp and compliant when Quaritch takes his temperature and moves the stethoscope around his chest and back. He shakes his head, “you’ve got a fever of 102, and your lungs sound all watery. Have you been sick?”

Spider shrugs, “I don’t know. With all the drills I kinda feel like shit every day.”

Quaritch sighs. “Well if you weren’t sick before y’a definitely are now. How do y’a feel? Your throat hurt? Your chest? Does your nose feel stuffed up?”

Spider shrugs again, “I just generally feel like shit.”

“Can y’a try being a little more specific?”

Spider groans, frustrated by his father’s questioning, “my head hurts, and my ears are throbbing, and my throat burns, and my lungs feel all guncked up, and my chest feels like lead and I’m fucking tired! So can you get off my dick!”

Instead of chastising him for the disrespect, Quaritch reaches out to rub Spider’s soar ear. Spider is so surprised by the action and look of love and concern in his father’s eyes that he lets him. “What about your appetite? Do y’a think you can eat?”

“Maybe?”

“Alright. I’ll make y’a up something light and then we’ll go from there. How does buttered toast and apple slices sound?”

“Fine,” Spider says, once again sounding like a small child and he hates it.

“What about you Hunter? You need to eat too.”

“I’m fine with toast.”

“Okay. Stay with your brother. I won’t be long.”

Over the next few days Spider is forced to stay in bed. Hunter is allowed to stay with him but only if he keeps his distance. Quaritch doesn’t want him getting sick too. So he has to stay seated at Spider’s desk and do his school work. Quaritch returns a lot of Spider’s things to keep him entertained. Sadly Spider doesn’t have the energy for any of it. He’s in pain all the time no matter how many, pain killers, fever reducers, and mucus thinners his dad gives him.

Quaritch is also with them constantly and Spider can’t stand it. If Spider starts coughing up bright green mucus his dad is there, holding him up right and patting his back to help him get it out. Then he’s wiping the drool from his face, handing him water, rubbing his back until his breath calms. He waits on him hand and foot, bringing him comfort food classics like grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup. He even has a schedule for his medicine. He’ll set a timer as soon as Spider takes a dose and will be ready with the next one the second it goes off.

Spider hates it. But also deep down he really doesn’t. When he was in the system and got sick he was on his own. A foster parent might take him to the doctor and check to see if he took his meds. Other then that he’d have to fend for himself. He’d go to school where he better not tell a nurse he was sick or else he’d be sent home where his foster parents would be mad because one of them lost a day of work. They’d accuse of him of faking his illness for attention. No one ever held him, or rubbed his temple when he said his head hurt, or turned the bathroom into a steam room just to help open up his airways, or cleaned up all the snotty tissues from his nightstand without a word of complaint, or pet his hair just to comfort him when he was absolutely miserable. But his dad does all that for him. His dad actually seems happy to do all that for him.

“You love this don’t you,” Spider bitterly grumbles. It’s one in the morning. Hunter is in bed. Quaritch and Spider had been trying to sleep too but Quaritch woke up all panicked that his eldest couldn’t breathe and went to sit by his bed side. An hour later Spider had woken up from a coughing fit that brutally shook his whole body as his lungs fought to expel the infection in them. Once again his father held him through it all. Now Spider is lying on his side, exhausted but in too much pain to sleep. Quaritch is running his fingers through his hair and it feels so nice. He can’t stand it. “You love seeing me this weak and pathetic.”

Quaritch’s hand never stills, “actually I don’t. I hate seein’ y’a this miserable. Do I like gettin’ to hold y’a and talk to y’a? Hell, even just be in the same room as y’a without you bitin’ my head off. Of course I do. I love it. But I’d trade it in a heartbeat if it would make you healthy again.”

Spider doesn’t know if it’s the sincerity in his father’s voice or just how utterly horrible he feels in that moment but now that he’s gotten a taste of care he’s desperate for more. He’s teary eyed from the pain when he say, “dad, everything hurts so bad!”

Quaritch gently shushes him, “I know. I know son. Let’s get you some more medicine. And I’ll make you a hot compress for your chest. That should help a little. And what about some tea? You want some honey lemon tea for your throat?” Spider just nods yes to all of it.

His dad gets up to go make it. Spider doesn’t know why the sight of him leaving makes him panic. “Wait,” he calls grabbing his father’s hand.

Quaritch is momentarily shocked but gets over it in seconds. He squeezes his son’s hand then kisses his forehead. “I’ll only be gone a minute. I’ll be right back. I’m not gonna leave you alone.”

He’s true to his word coming back in moments with his meds while the kettle starts to boil and his compress warms up. When Quaritch gets Spider as comfortable as possible he chances sitting next to his son. When Spider doesn’t move away, glair or hiss, Quaritch wraps an arm around him pulling him into his side. Spider is so tired and defeated from being so sick that he slumps against his dad and lets him hold him. He falls asleep like that, feeling not as horrible as he did before.

Quaritch never goes to sleep. He’s savoring this moment knowing that his son is more likely to continue lashing out at him than he is to finally start settling in. When morning comes Quaritch lays Spider onto his pillow then gets up to make a call. There’s a ham radio in the basement that he uses to communicate with his squad. Since the day Spider started getting sick Quaritch had been talking to his team’s medic, Ja, every day, giving him updates on his son’s condition. “Hey Ja. I don’t think Junior is gettin’ better. If anything I thinks he’s getting worse.”

“I aleady took a few days off work. Told them I had a family emergency and that I needed to leave as soon as possible. I have to work my next shift but then I’ll be there. Should only be two days.”

Quaritch isn’t thrilled with the wait but he has to respect it. Ja works at a hospital about an hour away from the mountain. In case of a real emergency that’s the hospital he’d take his boys to. He can’t jeopardize Ja’s job by asking him to come right now. “Thank you. I really do appreciate it. What can I do in the meantime to keep him comfortable.”

“Exactly what you’re doing. I know the poor kid is miserable but there’s no magic fix for it. Just medicine, rest and plenty of fluids.”

“Heard. I’ll see y’a soon.”

Hunter is already up and sitting at his brother’s desk when Quaritch comes back upstairs. He takes in his sons’ images wondering what Ja will think about the state of them. Not a single member of his squad would be surprised to learn about him going military mode on his sons, nor would they care as long as the boys weren’t being physically abused.

With how things had been going though you can barely tell any military treatment even happened. The boys had had all their possessions returned to them. They wore regular clothes again. And both of his sons were lucky to have super thick, fast growing hair. Hunter hadn’t had his cut since that first day of military drills seven weeks ago now. It’s almost back to his preferred length, curling upwards on the ends. Spider though was forced to get the high and tight cleaned up after only three weeks. Quaritch had been planning on cutting it again just before his son’s asthma attack. It’s grown out but Spider’s hair is still really short. Still it’s a softer look more fitting his age, especially compared to the harsh military style from before. As they are, they look like two normal, well cared for boys instead of two pitifully young soldiers. Ja shouldn’t find a thing to object to.

Quaritch ruffles Hunter’s hair. It’s been hard making sure his youngest doesn’t feel neglected. Quaritch is thankful that Hunter is an early bird like him because it’s the only part of the day they can have one on one time. “How y’a doing today son?”

“I’m good papa.” Then he looks over at his brother. Even in sleep Spider’s breathing is wet and labored. “He sounds terrible.”

“I know he does. I’ve got a doctor coming up in a few days to look at him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. And I’m gonna need you on your best behavior when he comes alright. Don’t even talk to him beyond a hello, goodbye, and please and thank you. He needs to focus on your brother.”

Hunter nods, eager to obey his father’s orders. “Yes sir.”

Quaritch smiles warmly at him, “good boy.” Hunter glows.

When Spider wakes up his throat is so swollen he can barely speak, all his words coming out as strained gravelly whispers. It’s another blow to the already defeated boy. Quaritch finds him a pad of paper to write down messages so he doesn’t have to speak.

He still has no voice when Ja arrives. Spider’s surprise when he hears his father ask Ja, “do you need me to stick around?”

“No boss you’re good.”

“Good. I’ve been wantin’ to get the Christmas decorations up but I also didn’t want to leave Junior alone. I’ll take Hunter out while you look him over.” With that Quaritch and Hunter leave to chop down a Christmas tree.

Ja makes cheerful, one sided conversation as he conducts Spider’s physical. In the end he concludes, “yep. Just what I thought from everything your dad described. You have bronchitis. I’m glad I came up. This could have turned into pneumonia if you didn’t start getting better on your own. I’ll give you a steroid shot. That’ll help get your strength up. Then I’ve got a whole bunch of prescriptions I’ll give to your dad to manage. Any questions?”

Spider writes out, you know he kidnapped us right?

Ja blows him off though he seems uncomfortable. “Come on. He’s your dad. You can’t kidnap your own kid.”

Bullshit! Do you know what he’s been doing to us up here?

“Well I can tell he gave you the first day of basic treatment. I like your hair by the way. The short style looks good on you.”

Thanks I hate it. Spider feels utterly defeated.

Ja sighs, “has your dad ever hit you?” Spider’s eyes brighten with the hope that this could be his ticket out. “I am a designated reporter. If you or your brother is being abused then I won’t let you stay.”

Spider is about to write, yes please help us, but he stills. He can hear his father shouting, don’t you dare lie! And he would be lying. His dad has never hit him. He’s never been physically abused. But he has been mentally and emotionally. He tries to find the right words to convey that to Ja but the medic beats him to the punch.

“Look, I know this all has to be hard for you. But you don’t know what your dad has gone through. At least not the way I do. I was there when your parents got married. I was there when you were born. And I was there when your mom died. So I can tell you without a doubt that he loves you both more than anything. I’d never seen him more happy than on the day you were born. You’re his pride and joy. And when your mom died he was an absolute wreck. The only thing that kept him together was knowing he had to be there for you and your brother. And god….” Ja actually starts tearing up at the memory, “…..we didn’t know if your brother was going to make it. Your dad sat by him in the nicu for weeks just watching him, terrified that he’d stop breathing at any second. I remember when they told him that Hunter was going to live. It was the only time I’ve ever seen him cry. He wept he was so relieved. Hunter is his miracle baby. You boys are his everything.”

Spider starts getting teary eyed himself hearing this. It’s a lot hearing how loved he actually is. But also he’s thinking, if he loves us so much why did he throw us away for revenge and if all his subordinates look up to him like this then they’ll never help us.

The front door opens. Quaritch and Hunter are happily chatting as they drag the Christmas tree in. They leave it there and go directly to Spider’s room. Hunter takes his seat at the desk. Quaritch walks up to Spider, eyes lighting with love at the sight of him. He smiles, cupping the back of Spider’s head. “How’s our patient doin’?” Ja starts giving him the details. Spider stairs at his dad feeling like he’s seeing him for the first time.

“It’ll take months for him to fully recover,” Ja concludes, “but once he stops coughing up bright green mucus then he’s no longer contagious. Keep him resting, give him these meds and he’ll start recovering soon.”

“Thank you Ja. I appreciate you coming up.”

“Anything for you boss.”

Hunter is excitedly bouncing in his seat. “Miles! Papa and I cut down a tree for Christmas! A real one! I’ve never had a real tree for Christmas. My fake mom always used to put up a plastic white tree that she’s decorate with these ugly wooden ornaments and no lights at all! Papa said he’s got tones of ornaments though. And lights! And we’re gonna bring up the tv, and watch Christmas movies while we decorate. And Papa said he’ll make us hot cocoa and cookies! I’m so excited!”

Quaritch chuckles at his happy son. “You think Miles could join us Ja? It seems a shame to leave him out of our first family Christmas. He can lay on the couch and watch while Hunter and I decorate.”

“That sounds fine to me.”

They wait until Ja leaves the next morning to start their holiday preparations. Quaritch makes Spider a cozy blanket and pillow nest on the couch. The fireplace is crackling, casting the whole living room in a warm light. The t.v was brought up and placed on the coffee table for a movie marathon once the space is decorated. Christmas music is playing from the record player. Hunter and Quaritch are happily decorating the tree with shinny ornaments and multi colored lights. Spider even spots a few hand made ornaments he’d made in school as a little kid. His dad must have fished them out of the trash after Spider’s foster parents threw them out. Hunter’s hand made ornaments are there too and he’s so excited to see them. His fake mom would look at them with barely concealed disdain and throw them out after a few days because they didn’t match her aesthetic. It means the world to Hunter to see them so carefully stored and proudly displayed on there tree.

Spider starts to feel warm and fuzzy inside but when he notices this he tries to shut it down. It’s hard though. His brother looks so happy. And it makes Spider happy seeing Hunter so expressive. He doesn’t know how he could take him away from this. And then there’s his father. Quaritch and Hunter are best buds, joking and laughing as they decorate. Every so often Quaritch goes up to Spider to check on him. He’ll ask him if he needs anything, stroke his hair and look at him with soft eyed love. The affection and cozy holiday atmosphere, along with all the care he’s been getting through his illness and Ja’s words starts to make Spider feel conflicted. He doesn’t want to stay with his dad. He still thinks he’s a monster for everything he did in the war. And the military treatment was brutal and humiliating. He might have been receiving love recently but he can’t forget what came before. But if he were to escape he’d have to either take his brother or get to the authorities before Quaritch and Hunter could run off. From what Spider could tell Hunter didn’t want to leave so what was he supposed to do?

Spider goes through the motions the rest of the day. He accepts hot chocolate and cookies when Quaritch gives it to him. He doesn’t fight it when Quaritch sits between him and his brother when they start their Christmas movie marathon. He lets his dad put an arm around him and pull him into his side though Spider is completely ridged the whole time.

At some point Quaritch leaves them to go make dinner. Spider takes the opportunity to write to his brother, are you happy here?

Hunter smiles, “of course I’m happy here!”

Why?

Hunter doesn’t take long to think about it, “because papa actually cares about us. He’s never ignored me like my fake parents did. He always makes time for both of us. He actually listens when I talk and asks questions and wants to know about the things I like. And I get to be with you. You’re the best brother I ever could have asked for. It’s all really nice.”

Spider’s heart swells. He loves being with his brother too. But he also has to know if there’s even a chance that Hunter could want out of here. Don’t you miss your friends?

“I didn’t have any friends.”

“Boys dinners ready,” Quaritch calls as he walks into the room. Spider hurries to scratch out his side of the conversation.

Later that night, after Hunter has been put to sleep, Spider is laying in his bed with Quaritch watching over him until he falls asleep. Spider decides to take the opportunity to ask in his strained voice, “why did you take revenge on mamas killer? You had to know you wouldn’t get away with it. That we’d be taken from you.”

Quaritch sighs. “That was a rough time. It’s hard being a single parent to two kids under two. Especially while you’re still grieving. And then after the trial. When that rich little prick got away with a slap on the wrist for murdering the love of my life. I just couldn’t take it. I had to avenge her death. I’m big enough to admit that I wasn’t really thinkin’ what the consequences of that would be. I was too caught up in my own rage and grief to really think it through. If I could do it differently I would have at least prepared better by giving your Auntie Z or Uncle Lyle some form of custody of y’a both. That way when I went to jail I woulda made sure you were going to a good home and that when I got out I could take y’a back.”

“That doesn’t matter. You threw us away for revenge!”

Quaritch thinks for a moment. “I don’t regret avenging your mama. Do you think I was wrong to do it?”

It’s Spider’s turn to think. “No. He killed my mom. I’m glad he got what he deserved.”

“But you wish our family never got broken up.”

“Well yeah. I would have loved getting to grow up with my brother.”

“You know if our family had never been broken then I would be there too right?”

Spider starts to grow uncomfortable. “Well yeah.”

“And we’d be livin’ like this every day.”

“What? Military drills, yelling,…”

Quaritch sighs. “Miles,” he says his birth name with so much weight. “Come on already. I know you come from stubborn stalk but this is gettin’ ridiculous. Don’t y’a think if I wanted to run my house like a military battalion then I would’ve done it right from the jump?”

“Yeah,” Spider sheepishly admits.

“And how did I run things right at the start?”

Spider casts his mind back to those day. “You were kinda overbearing. You were always just there, waking us up in the morning, making us meals and snacks and always trying to help us with our school work and always asking us if we needed anything and if we were doing okay…..”

“Miles, that’s called parenting.” Spider might as well have been slapped. Because yeah when he says it all out loud like that it does sound like the basic parenting he’s never had before. “Look I can apologize for the military treatment. You were just gettin’ too wild. And you were turning your brother against me too. Tryin’ to kill y’a with kindness wasn’t doin’ anything. So I fell back on what I know. In the military you break people down to build them up stronger. I thought it’d be good for you. But if it really hurt y’a that much then maybe I was thinking too much like a colonel and not enough like a dad. And for that I’m sorry.”

Spider can’t believe what he’s hearing, “really?”

“Of course! I love y’a son. And I want to do right by y’a.”

Spider thinks about his conversations with his dad and brother for days. He doesn’t like the conclusion he comes to. He misses the Sully’s desperately and would do anything just to send a message to them. On the other hand he loves his brother and would do anything to make sure he’s safe and happy. Hunter wasn’t happy with his adopted parents. But he is thriving here. And Spider is pretty sure that even though his dad is crazy that he would never hurt them. So it’s hard for him to say but eventually he tells Quaritch, “dad. I have a proposition.”

Quaritch actually laughs a little, “oh yeah? About what?”

“Staying here.” That makes all of Quaritch’s good humor drain out of him. “I don’t want to stay here. I believe you when you say you love me. But I can’t look past what you did to the Na’vi. You lead the troops that killed hundreds of people. And I just can’t forgive that.” Quaritch looks ready to launch into why Spider is wrong about that but Spider stops him. “I don’t want to stay here. But I will. Because I don’t want to lose my brother. And Hunter doesn’t want to go back to his adopted parents. So we can play happy family until Hunter turns eighteen. Then he’ll be free to do what he wants.”

The gears are turning in Quaritch’s head, “till Hunter turns eighteen. You realize he just turned thirteen. That’s five whole years.”

Spider’s already done the math so he’s well aware. “Yep.”

Quaritch grins. “Five years is a mighty long time. You don’t think I’ll win y’a over by then.”

Spider shrugs. “We’ll find out in five years.”

Quaritch chuckles, “you got a deal then.”

And that’s where I’ll leave it. Thanks for the ask! This was lots of fun to write 💙

[mariacallous]

It’s fair to say the TV show Schitt’s Creek would have been a lot less funny had it concerned the family of a deposed dictator rather than the family of an embezzled video store mogul. Even so, it’s a strange but undeniable fact that when toddlers are stumbling out of dungeons, and the unspeakable horrors of the former Syrian regime are still being revealed, a significant part of the human impulse is to thirst for details of the dreadful Assad family’s new lives in Moscow, then remark tartly: “Well, they’ve gone down in the world.” And of course, the Assads may yet plunge further – for all the overly impressed reports of apartments in glittering Moscow skyscrapers, I must say I’d have picked something on the ground floor myself.

For now, Syrian refugee Bashar al-Assad might be telling himself that if Vladimir Putin has offered him asylum, he can’t possibly be angry with him for putting Russia’s unrivalled network of military bases in Syria at serious risk. In which case, it’s possible Bashar is about to go on a journey of discovery as long as the Trans-Siberian railway. Then again, it could be much, much shorter. But perhaps Assad’s comfortable with limbo. He has, after all, spent the past two decades apparently unable to decide whether he is or isn’t growing a moustache. Follically speaking, I guess he now finally has time to pick a lane. Or, as I say, doesn’t have time. For while the man who used chemical weapons against his own people may be physically located in Moscow, in security terms, and for the rest of his entire life, he cannot be at all clear where he stands.

Nor, at present, can the Syrian people, who deserve so much more than a few days of giddy celebration. None of it is unalloyed, given the utter grimness of the stories being disgorged from Assad’s torture prisons, and the ominous uncertainty of what comes next under victorious Islamist rebel chief Abu Mohammed al-Jolani.

Having said that, you have to celebrate the bright spots. What is not to love about that footage of a toppled Assad Sr statue being hooked to the back of a truck and ridden through the streets by cheering Syrians? Elsewhere, one of the best bits of any successful coup against a murderous tyrant is watching their giggling former people swarm through the private chambers of their ghastly palace. And so it has been with the Assads. Here are half a dozen oppressed citizens grinning as they take goofy photos on a souvenir sofa; here are a few hundred helping themselves to all the incredibly expensive things that got bought instead of food and medicine for the country’s children. No doubt Assad’s wife, Asma, will be aware of this, and sobbing into a diamond-encrusted iPhone to anyone who’ll still listen (an increasingly small field) that she “can’t watch the news footage”. No doubt it feels like a … what’s the word? … violation?

Perhaps Asma could distract herself by writing one of those end of year family letters that always cause so much appalled merriment for those who receive them. “Well, we finally made the big move to Moscow! Downsized a little bit, for sure – but we keep saying it’s so cosy. BTW if anyone sent greetings to the old address, it’s not totally clear they’ll be forwarded to us by the new owners. Incidentally, we heard on the grapevine that people thought our dear friend Vladimir was angry with Bashar. We assure well-meaning friends that this could NOT be further from the truth. Vladimir adores Bashar. He keeps inviting him to come and drink tea with him, which seems so hospitable, and we mean to take up the invitation just as soon as we finish unpacking the money.”

Anyway: the money. For some reason, news reports about fleeing dictators often peg their fortunes at the $2bn mark, and I duly read this week that Assad had escaped with $2bn of squirrelled-away funds; “$2bn” must be the answer to the question “what’s the precise amount of money that sounds like an ill-gotten running-away fund?”

But if the megarich Assads are nevertheless wondering what happens next – guys, get used to it! The not knowing is the whole fun of being a former dictator! Your shit creek may yet become shitty enough to satisfy even your most persistent detractors. It’s definitely possible that at some point, your gracious hosts will get bored of being gracious – as hosts in these situations historically have – at which point you might be suddenly forced to take a trip to The Hague after all.

Ultimately, I wouldn’t say nature is healing – but at least late-2000s magazine power lists are finally starting to make sense. It was back in 2007 that the US magazine Details ran a list of the most powerful men in the world under the age of 45, in which Assad was ranked a full 14 places below Kevin Federline, who at the time was Britney Spears’ unemployed former backing dancer ex-husband. If that felt like a slight misreading of the then-Syrian leader’s status – and, indeed, of Kevin’s days of smoking weed and hammering the PlayStation – this week it is starting to look more rational. K-Fed may very well now be more than 14 places more powerful than Bashar al-Assad. At the very least he can holiday outside Russian airspace – and not have to worry about whether the food delivery guy really is the food delivery guy.