#heights mention tw

[detentiontrack]

I weigh 230 pounds and I’m the healthiest I’ve ever been. I can be on my feet for hours and hours, I can exercise, I can move around without my cane. Back when I weighed 160lbs, doctors told me I just needed to lose weight and my chronic illnesses would go away. So for 8 years, I starved myself and did everything in my power to be thin. It wasn’t until I gained 70 pounds and actually started eating real food, that I started feeling better. Fatphobia in the medical field literally kills people and makes them sicker. You can be fat AND healthy. Skinny doesn’t always equal health.

[burningvelvet]

My analysis on Heathcliff and his relationships, and some interesting excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR (TW: abuse, sa/sexual violence, generally graphic and potentially triggering content)

*note: I've had half of this in my drafts for a while. My last reblog, which discusses Heathcliff's lack of attraction to Cathy II, inspired me to finally expand on & post it. That reblog is here: https://www.tumblr.com/burningvelvet/738896230943522816

Cathy II is one of my favorite characters and I think her dynamic with Heathcliff is fascinating. I would say that while he may not be attracted to her (indeed, he sometimes seems repulsed by her) his behavior toward her IS explicitly predatory as it includes lying to her, manipulating her, physically abusing her, kidnapping her, and forcing her into a marriage in which he helped to seduce her with love letters under his son's name.

Combine this with his behavior toward his wife Isabella, in which sexual violence may be easily inferred as he says Isabella hated him a day into their marriage (and sure, some people conceive on the first try, but what are the odds? and the concept of marital rape didn't legally exist back then) — not to mention Heathcliff calling her a slut (sexually violent epithet* *editing this post to say that "slut" was a mainly gendered term, but in Brontë's time it didn't have today's more sexualized meaning; for most of history it primarily meant "slovenly" aka messy/careless), and both of them vaguely referring to heinous abuses she undergoes in private (and what could be worse than what we already know about his treatment of his subordinates). With how determined he was to get a male heir, and that being the whole reason why he married her, it is not much of a stretch to assume that he bedded her multiple times until she showed signs of pregnancy. It is a very easy thing to infer actually.

He was probably as insulting and as violent (or at the very least, cold) with her in bed as he always was in every other aspect from the very start of their relationship. As they both confirm that she receives his abuse openly (until her escape), and as she wishes to be a "good wife," she likely did not struggle to avoid her "marital duties," but again, she clearly hates him for most of her marriage, and we learn that she despises him immediately after their marriage when the veil finally fully drops. And with how upfront with her he initially was about his intentions, and how his own verbal admissions + outright verbal abuse failed to quell her desire for him initially, what more than physical and especially sexual violence could have led Isabella to despise him so soon after their consummation? Their sexual experiences couldn't have gone splendidly for her, and for him it was likely a mechanical chore he likely resented and was therefore probably not delicate with (he hates delicacy anyway).

Yet, while Heathcliff is violent and predatory (in the colloquial as well as the primal, animalistic sense, as he is always related to nature even in his very name), he also contains hints of a long-buried goodness, as we all know, and this is what makes him a fascinating protagonist. He has a capacity for strong feeling, a deliberate if not faulty moral code, and he sometimes shows kindness accidentally.

This is why Heathcliff catching baby Hareton is such a pivotal moment in the story, because it is only after he saves his life that he actually realizes what he's done and then muses that he should've let the child die. This scene shows that his natural subconscious instinct is actually good, and that his external situations are what have shaped his darker impulses on the conscious level. In other words, he causes us to examine the nature vs nurture debate.

Despite later abusing him, Heathcliff sees Hareton as a son-like figure in his own twisted way, and in the end as he loses his life forces, he gives Hareton and Cathy II his blessings like a father would — he essentially is Hareton's father, and he is legally Cathy II's father-in-law, first through his son Linton and then we could say through his unofficial adoption of Hareton, who he says he would have preferred as a son. So Cathy II has Heathcliff as a sort of double father figure, though of course she would never accept this.

At one point, Heathcliff notes that he takes good care not to do anything that could be proven to be criminal or illegal. In his usual exactness, he was pretty much right. He is always tip-toeing the line of immorality: in the gothic literary tradition, his relationship with Cathy I has incestuous undertones, but they are not legally or biologically related, and so he skates by.

He declares that he has no regrets and that he's done nothing wrong by technical standards. Manipulating, lying, mental and physical abuse of one's financial dependents, and marital rape (hypothetical or not) were all within legal bounds for the most part, and even the forced marriage of Linton H./Cathy II was done through the process of emotional blackmail (and physical evidence in the form of her love letters) so that in his mind, he wasn't actually responsible.

However, Heathcliff may have reasoned that sexually abusing one's daughter-in-law in revenge may be in violation of the law; that he would gain severe detraction from his "slaves" Nelly, Hareton, even Joseph; and that if such a huge scandal broke out, he would have a harder time finding tenants, etc. — also, I don't think Heathcliff would have felt like he "needed" to sexually abuse Cathy II to get revenge against her/her family, because as he says, at that point he already has his revenge and his victory; he already has her lands, and degrades her every day by forcing her to be a servant and a slave, and by abusing her in every other way. Sexually abusing her would be an extra effort on his part.

And I don't think he would gain anything out of it aside from revenge. I don't really think Heathcliff has much sexual interest in anyone at all, probably not due to inborn asexuality but due to his depression, trauma, emotional repression, and general issues. Although he and Cathy I have an extremely passionate spiritual relationship, I can't say that I believe he ever experienced fully actualized/conscious sexual feelings even for her. Considering their youth and rocky position when he leaves her for his hiatus, and the very brief period of their reunion, their relationship was likely never "consummated" — or at least I see no hard textual evidence to suggest that it was, although I'm sure many people could probably argue against this. And regardless of whether or not he and Cathy I ever had a physically sexual relationship, I don't think he could ever really be seriously attracted to anyone but her.

But in order to get his revenge, he did bed Isabella likely multiple times until her pregnancy. And as McMaster demonstrates below, by encouraging Cathy II to marry his son — and quite literally seducing her himself by writing love letters to her under his son's name — Heathcliff essentially beds her by proxy, if not in actuality. He wants her property, and he wants her, and because his son is the same age as her and dying, he decides to use him as the perfect pawn to access her by

If Linton H. died before he could be married to Cathy II, would Heathcliff have attempted to marry Cathy II on his own? I think this is a fascinating topic to theorize about, and I can only assume the answer would be yes, because Hareton wouldn't have worked as a pawn, though perhaps Heathcliff would have simply manipulated Hareton to sign over Cathy II's inheritance to him instead (as the laws of marital coverture meant husbands were entitled to 100% of their wives money/property/inheritance). But at that point Heathcliff was still looking for revenge (and therefore may not have been adverse to getting it like he did in his first marriage with Isabella), and he may not have wanted to be financially responsible for the newly weds and their potential offspring, or to suffer legal repercussions if Cathy II or someone else convinced Hareton to hire a lawyer lol. But I digress.

And as the last quote in the following list demonstrates, I think it was not only a touch of the gothic incest theme that Emily was going for by having Lockwood assume Cathy II is Heathcliff's wife, but that it was intentionally symbolic of how weird and difficult-to-define their relationship is: they don't act like father and daughter in-laws, but he is legally her provider and in-house patriarch, and she is the lady of the house, and she is the closest thing to her mother he has. I could write whole essays about that last point & the similarities of both Catherines, such as their fearlessness, particularly toward Heathcliff (and I believe this makes him uncomfortable and even scares him at times).

---

Excerpts from Juliet McMaster's "The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery" via JSTOR:

"Linton is called at one point 'only a feeble tool to his father' (205). In the sexual context he becomes a sort of human dildo, which his father uses to rape and degrade the second Catherine, the child bride whose birth caused the death of the Catherine whom Heathcliff loved."

"'Making love in play, eh?' says Heathcliff of the young couple, with grim jocularity (188). And that is the way in which Bronte develops this courtship of juveniles."

"Heathcliff even writes half of Linton's love letters for him, so that they turn out 'singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness,' 'copious love letters, foolish as the age of the writer rendered natural, yet with touches, here and there, which I thought were borrowed from a more experienced source' (182), records Nelly. Catherine is being wooed by son and father together. And when the time comes, the marriage is consummated by the same team."

"[Linton] takes his pleasure, when Catherine pushes him off, in summoning his father and in witnessing the physical domination of his bride [..]"

"After Heathcliff abducts and incarcerates young Catherine and her attendant, he keeps our narrator, Nelly, imprisoned for 'five nights and four days' (220). Meanwhile the marriage ceremony is performed, but we have no one to describe it for us."

"'She's not to go; we won't let her' [..] Now more than ever Linton's life and opinions are ruled by his father: he can do little more than parrot what 'he says.' If Linton's satisfied mein suggests the happy bridegroom, his role as husband, lord and master is shared with his father."

"Heathcliff testifies, 'I heard him draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do [to Catherine], if he were as strong as I. The inclination is there' (228). Linton evidently has a conception of himself and his father as complementary in this sexual context, part of a team."

"Heathcliff's appropriation of the property and physical abuse of the bride leaves her in effect deflowered. His brutal blow that makes the blood flow recalls his symbolic defloration of Isabella, Linton's mother, when he hurls the knife."

"[Heathcliff] won't listen to Nelly's pleas that since he hates the young couple he may as well let them stay at the Grange. 'I want my children about me, to be sure,' he answers with chilling irony; '—besides, that lass owes me her services for her bread' (227). One wonders what sort of 'services' he has in mind. He apparently intends to prolong the honeymoon at which he has assisted. And as he takes her away, there is some doubt, as in Lockwood's mind at the beginning of the novel, whether Catherine is Heathcliff's daughter-in-law or his bride [..]"

Source: McMaster, Juliet. “The Courtship and Honeymoon of Mr. and Mrs. Linton Heathcliff: Emily Brontë's Sexual Imagery.” Victorian Review, vol. 18, no. 1, 1992, pp. 1–12. JSTOR, http://www.jstor.org/stable/27794707.

[applesaucesims]

As the party went on, and Maureen had volunteered to take her grandson to have his nap, Emma followed her upstairs to have a private conversation. She had noticed her mother was acting quite absent all day, so she wanted to make sure that everything was alright.

But the reason behind her mother's sadness was bigger than Emma had expected. Maureen's best friend, Leah, had sadly passed away just the night before. She had been living alone ever since her lover, Edward's cousin, Artemisia's death, and had already lived much longer than anyone had expected. Because of this, Maureen had seen it coming, but it still hit her hard enough that she finally let out some tears as her daughter took her into her arms.

[TRANSCRIPT]

Emma: "Mum?"

Maureen: "Hello, sweetheart."

Emma: "How are you? You seemed unusually quiet tonight."

Maureen: "I know, I'm sorry, Emma. I didn't want it to ruin your birthday."

Emma: "What is it?"

Maureen: "It's your auntie Leah."

Emma: "Oh, no, Mum..."

Maureen: "You know, she's like my best friend. Well, she was. She... she passed away last night."

Emma: "Gosh, I'm so sorry, Mum! Don't you worry about the party. If you need anything, please let me know."

Maureen: "Oh, I have your father for that, but thank you, sweetheart."

[raayllum]

how are you a teacher and shipping a literal child with an 18 year old💀

i'm a tutor with an honours specialization in how fiction influences and/or is influenced by reality. i also work with students across all grade levels, even into university ages/adulthood. you're bringing up talking points from plato's republic that aristotle knew was stupid 3000+ years ago. i've written papers & studied this exact same line of discourse across the western canon of like, 800 years? but have fun playing into far right bullshit and book banning that just repeats over and over again, the literal conservative puritans were having these moral panics too <;3 totally not protestant conservatism with a gay hat

& that's cause i'm not shipping a literal child with an 18 year old (which btw 18 yr olds are not magically emotionally mature fully grown adults either even if they legally are adults, i say as someone who was a teenager just four years ago). i'm shipping two characters with an age gap when they're both fully grown adults in their 20s. if you think characters are for some reason Frozen at a certain age and can never be aged up when they're from an IP property you don't own, and that authors can only explore characters at different life stages when they're characters the author owns, you inherently don't understand the transformative part of fandom / transformative fiction

like hi, was a literal minor like 4 years ago who was harassed throughout my teen years by people just like you because i shipped two (2) things with a 4 year age gap, but no i'm sure calling a 16 yr old a pedophile in the name of "protecting children" (when no one online is entitled to anyone's personal private information, nvm their history with csa) was totally worth it

if you've ever enjoyed or read literally anything adjacent to greek myth or the fucking bible, you've enjoyed texts with a whole lot of fucked up shit in it, of which age gaps are the least of their 'problems'. come back to me when you've read "wuthering heights" or some actual fucked up shit

and update bc anon came back and Really thought they were doing something: wuthering heights doesn't have an age gap at all. the two leads are the same age and are fucked up for so many other reasons. plato's republic is a philosophical musing manual on where art fits into society and how it should manifest / what its purpose is. but thank you for failing critical thinking so hard you couldn't even google something for 2 seconds to make sure your argument was sound At All

[shes-some-other-where]

Retribution well-deserved

Prompt: Cliff

Contains: heights (almost falling from a cliff), death mention

Let him drop.

The prisoner heard the panicked voice of the soldier shouting. The terror-slicked cries mingled with another voice—a darker one, steeped in malice. Hatred. Bitter, wolfish hunger for retribution well-deserved. Let the bastard fall and die.

Some long-suppressed, now-unfamiliar compulsion had him reaching. Straining. Pulling the soldier back to solid ground.

Saving him from the fatal drop over the cliff’s sheer edge.

Why? He didn’t know. After five years, he bore enough scars on his skin and his soul to justify letting his jailer splatter on the ground below.

I think you might be a good man.

suggested reading order | MWM event masterlist

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All my writing is original. Feel welcome to interact/comment/reblog. Pls don’t steal or repost.

[inevitablemoment]

My "Back to The Future: The Musical" Experience

Okay, my friends. It finally happened... I saw Back to the Future: The Musical live and in person!

So, it wasn't stopping in my state, so we went to Cleveland to see it at the KeyBank Theater in Playhouse Square (it's like a coalition of theaters in one place-- there's even a walkway connecting them, which was helpful during this heatwave).

Our seats were originally in the balcony, but (I don't know if I've shared this before) I have a deathly fear of heights.

The first time that I sat in a balcony was at a performance of Phantom the Opera on Broadway. The Majestic is a very old theater, so the steps were very steep, and we were very high up. I was on the verge on a panic attack, and my parents calmed me down, reminding me that we were about to see the show. The next day, we saw Anastasia at the Broadhurst, also in the balcony, and I was a lot calmer. When we saw the tour of the Miss Saigon revival in Cincinnati, we sat in loge (the first eight rows of the balcony) and I wasn't as anxious as I was in New York, but I felt a little nauseous throughout the show. The last show before this one was Hadestown in New York the spring before the last. The rows in front of us were at my feet instead of my knees, so I felt more exposed, but we were closer to the exit, and once the show started, I was fine.

But this time, I just couldn't do it. I tried talking with my parents about random stuff, focusing on the set, but the latter just made me feel worse. My chest was getting that tight feeling, and I felt like I was going to throw up. The way that our seats were was that my dad was in the row in front of us and we were behind him, and my mom's seat was close to a railing. She told me that if no one sat in the seats next to me, I could probably take them. Then two guys came in, and one of them sat in the chair that I was using as a security grip. I figured that I could sit in one of the seats in my dad's row if no one sat there, and then these ladies came in and filled up the rest of the row.

Just as the show started, I felt like I couldn't breathe and I had to get out of there. My dad followed and tried to calm me down. I wanted to see this show-- I've been hoping to see it for the past four years-- but I couldn't stay up in that balcony. I saw one of the ushers coming, and I told her about my situation. She told the house manager, and he was able to find us three empty seats in the way back, a row ahead from where the ushers would sit for the show.

Now, onto the show-- spoilers under the cut and that kind of shit.

So, my almost-panic attack flared up just as the show was starting, so I'm sorry to say that I don't have much to say about the opening.

But I did love the screen projections showing the audience traveling from that date in Cleveland to 1985 in Hill Valley.

The audience erupted in applause when Marty entered (just as I was making my way down those steep steps). Even if I was upset, I loved the energy from this audience. As a theater kid, one of the things that can get me down is when the audience isn't as into the show as you are, so knowing that this audience was already so excited made me so happy.

One thing that I could hear while the manager was looking for ground-level seats was that "Only A Matter Of Time" contained the same melody as the film's iconic theme, and I geeked out. Something that I've picked up since I became interested in musical theater was noticing recurring themes in songs, and I just loved this.

I saw Caden Brauch as Marty, and he sounds so much like MJF. Not as much as Olly Dobson, but quite a vocal resemblance.

Now, let's get to "Wherever We're Going."

I'm such a hardcore Parkfly shipper and I've already listened to that song about a hundred times before (I wanted to keep the rest of the soundtrack as a surprise).

It's like Glen Ballard took every thought that I've had about them and was able to make it into the most perfect song.

Caden and Jennifer's actress, Kiara Lee, had great chemistry that reached all the way to the back of the theater, and the way that their voices melded together was... transcendent (can these two be the next Orpheus and Eurydice in Hadestown, please?).

I loved the energy of the actress playing the Save The Clock Tower lady; it helped me see how this was pretty much canvassing before the days of Greenpeace.

Moving onto the next scene, George's actor, Burke Swanson, was amazing. He got the voice and the mannerisms down pat.

Biff, played by Ethan Rogers, was such a sleazy asshole.

"Hello, Is Anybody Home?" did a great job of portraying the dysfunctional nature of the McFly family in this timeline, but how they're dysfunctional in a sad way.

Doc's actor, Don Stephenson, was incredible. You could tell that he was taking inspiration from Christopher Lloyd, but he definitely made the role his own. Though, I will say that I caught a bit of another certain Christopher Lloyd character (Jim Ignatowksi) in his portrayal.

"Doc, who are the girls?" "I don't know-- they just show up whenever I start singing!" Queuing up essay on how the musical adaptation is just a timeline where Poky has infected Hill Valley with the Apotheosis...

I was a little skeptical about the added detail of the DeLorean being voice-activated, but it did give us a couple of the funniest scenes in the show.

The whole thing with the Peabody farm had to be eliminated from the libretto, so we lost the Twin Pine/Lone Pine bit.

"Cake" was a song built on irony, and it is glorious because of it.

We also lost the "Tab and Pepsi Free" bit, too.

The sudden shift into "Got No Future (Reprise)" was jarring in such a funny way; it honestly gave me some Team StarKid vibes.

"Gotta Start Somewhere" is probably one of the best new songs written for the show. Cartreze Tucker, who doubled as Goldie and Marvin Berry, stole the show in every scene that he was in.

I love "My Myopia."

It establishes just how down bad George was for Lorraine long before they were supposed to meet.

Lorraine's actress, Zan Berube, perfectly nailed the "horny but repressed Catholic girl with an idealized view of romantic relationships" vibe that I get from teenaged Lorraine.

And I love how they kept the detail about her mother being pregnant again.

When they were doing the "Scottish hamburger" bit, I didn't get it until Doc said "McDonald's." Then it was hilarious.

People were already laughing before the punchline of the Ronald Reagan joke, and I loved it.

Doc repeating "A bolt of lightning" with the same inflection sent me.

That brief interaction between Doc and Strickland made me laugh so much that I almost missed the beginning of the next scene. Makes me wonder if the game's canon applies to the musical 'verse.

"She's a goddess." Oh, George, I knew you were down bad for her. The original SIMP.

My heart goes wild whenever I watch the "I'm your density" scene in the film, and the musical recaptured that feeling perfectly.

I had mixed feelings about combining the school scene and the chase scene, but considering theatrical logistics, I think that they melded it together very well.

Strickland hiding in a locker to smoke was hilarious and a nice nod to Part II.

The Star Wars shoutout came out of nowhere, but it was a good laugh.

My only complaint about the Act 1 finale was that it didn't involve Biff being covered in manure. Cafeteria garbage just doesn't as cathartic a feeling as cow shit.

I'm sorry to say this, but "21st Century" was probably a song that they could've done without, but the joke about 2020 was funny.

I need to do a full ranking of the songs, but "Put Your Mind To It" is one of my top favorites.

But "For The Dreamers" is definitely up high. It actually moved me to almost tears, and I had already been crying because I wanted to get down from the balcony.

I loved the bit with the model of the town, and the addition of Marty complimenting Doc on it.

"Only A Matter Of Time (Reprise)," you have my heart. The longing, the melancholia...

I can tell you that the audience ERUPTED into applause when George punched Biff, and when George and Lorraine kissed. I loved this audience so much.

"Johnny B. Goode" was just as epic as it is in the film. That's all that I have to say.

I find it so painfully ironic that while a fictional character was able to overcome his fear of heights, I couldn't.

And going back to the voice-activated DeLorean, I loved that Marty tried to do an impression of Doc to get around the commands.

Caden Brauch's acting when Marty thought that he had failed to save Doc and then the relief of Doc being alive... I hope this boy transfers to the Broadway production soon because he deserves it.

And the reunion with Jennifer... <3

MY BOY'S PERFORMING!!!!!!!

The flying DeLorean... THE HELICOPTER FROM MISS SAIGON CAN SUCK IT!

I got pretty excited when Marty and Doc were waving at the audience.

During the curtain call, people were beginning to leave even though there was still another number left.

"Back In Time" was just so much fun; it really hit home how this musical celebrates the film and the fans.

Now, away from initial reactions -- the special effects were jaw-dropping, the performances were stellar, the sets, costumes, and choreography were to die for, the music was, in the words of Corey Dorris, "fuckin' transcendent."

My one complaint, though, is how loud it was. Rock concert loud. I felt my purse vibrating and I was afraid that I had forgotten to turn off my phone-- it was just from the sound.

The storm sequence kinda comes off as a shock-- there's about a minute of dead silence before the sound effects kicks in. And it is LOUD.

If you're going to see this show and you're sensitive to loud noises, definitely bring headphones. I brought mine anyway, but I had theme on for the whole show instead of acclimatizing to the noise like I usually do.

Also, considering how well I know the plot of the movie, this show seemed incredibly fast-paced.

All in all, this was one of the best musicals that I have ever seen. It is already a favorite of mine, and I am now planning on convincing my parents into letting us see it when it stops in Durham, NC next year.

So, BTTF is a now a musical, Bright Lights Big City is a musical, Family Ties has a straight play that canonizes Ellex... if we continue the trend of Michael J. Fox properties be adapted for the stage, I hope The Frighteners is next. Just imagine what that would be like!

[mvsicinthedvrk]

hwevent17 starter for filippa & lisa // @gclden-glider

“I’m not looking to get involved,” Filippa says with a bored sigh, to preface the conversation. “Or hide anyone, or be an alibi.” In fact, they’d prefer to be left out of everything entirely; this will all blow over sooner than later, and it’d come at the worst possible time considering their theater’s next opening night is in two weeks. Or, she thinks, the second worst time, since at least it’s not two weeks from now. “But if you want to chat, I know a rooftop with keycard-only access, and as long as you can vaguely convince me you won’t push me off, I’m happy to head up there and take a break from everything.”

[humming-pokemon-helpers]

//It's also in the tags but to reiterate, major warning for a written description of Pokémon death below the cut. It's not particularly graphic or bloody, but it's written as somebody standing from a distance would see it and with heavy emotional weight afterwards, so do be aware.

[Video after video...

As Reshiram stumbles across the ground, sending Pokémon scattering with each move and attacking with Dragon Pulse those that move too swiftly, Cross focuses not on the two Zor leading the giant dragon's movements with illusions away from the population, and instead towards Vision, whose heels squelch in the rain-dampened earth as she pushes past just about every other combatant to seize Colress by the lapels of his lab jacket. He doesn't do much to resist with his usable hand as she sets into reaming the man out.

"You! You and I both know this isn't how things were supposed to go at all, you sorry excuse for a whelp of a man! We agreed on the Moor of Icirrus! So why are we here, and why am I fighting my brother?! Can you not follow the simplest of directions?! The simplest of boundaries?! Or are you forgetting who the person who controls the Dragon of Truth is here?! Besides, if this keeps going, we're all going to--to die, with how this thing is rampaging! So end this madness already!"

Colress, oddly smug for someone who could have his face kicked in at any given moment, replies in an even tone. "I had told you that Lostlorn Forest was by far the best location to amplify the emotions of those fighting, and thus produce the best data. That includes your own, of course. Even if you are the one who wields Reshiram... right now, Reshiram's will is fully its own. Something you can only accomplish with my help. So even so, I can't let you sabotage my experiment. For both of our sakes. My apologies, Lady Vision."

The half-Zorua sneers at Colress, pulling at his lapels one more time as she roughly tosses his weight to the ground, hard enough to leave skids in the mud. "Watch your temper..." Colress warns sternly as Vision turns to Reshiram. The dragon's steely blue eyes were already locked onto Vision's position. It seemed more enraged by the incessant noise than the skittering creatures Vanilla and Wolfgang had conjured.

"And you! You've been here since that day, you should understand exactly why--!" She slips into snarling at the Reshiram, voice intensifying as she becomes more and more incensed, her screams breaking into an outraged cry at the end. Cross moves closer to Vanilla and Wolfgang, capturing their glimpses at each other, their faces softening as something hits them. Maybe even sympathy.

What Cross is more interested in, though, is the Reshiram's looming posture as Vision continues to rant, its wings rearing upwards and upwards until in a clean motion--

A scream pierces the air, the same in pitch and tone as Vanilla's, as Reshiram seizes Vision in its claws and readies its wings as if to take to the sky, flapping heavily, shaking the nuisance in its confusion. Nobody moves an inch, save Wolfgang, who Vanilla catches by his arm. The microphone picks up a soft "Please," but the wolf shakes his head and snarls in response. Vanilla nods reluctantly. She begins focusing her power, scars glowing red through her clothing. Wolfgang rushes for the dragon's shank, leaping in the air to claw into the dragon's fur as its feet leave the earth and it rapidly ascends.

Reshiram thrashes as the Zoroark claws its way up its body and across the dragon's wing, but Wolfgang's battle-bonded claws hold even when shaken high in the air. Even when his crest finally breaks into energy. It's inaudible, but Wolfgang snarls something at Vision. Her mouth moves as Wolfgang pries her arm from Reshiram's claw, then her body. Below, Dolly the Darmanitan holds out her arms, watching for the soundless cue. And then the girl falls, for what feels like an eternity, until she meets Dolly's arms. They both buckle under the inertia of a 30-foot drop, but Dolly pulls her arm out from under Vision soon enough to give a triumphant thumbs-up to Wolfgang. He roars back.

At the signal, Vanilla reaches out her hand, stretching from it a chilling deep purple aura of malice that wraps itself around Reshiram's leg and tugs it to the ground as hard as she can muster. They scream in effort, their voice cracking with the pressure as they brace their body backwards, but the dragon rears upwards harder as Wolfgang readies a Shadow Claw and is thrown off balance. His remaining claw slips. Vanilla releases the dragon. He reaches for his brother instead. So does Reshiram, grabbing the Zoroark with the sharp talons on its feet. Before Vanilla can reach again, the dragon toys with its prey, tossing Wolfgang above its own head as he snarls something at the top of his voice and just a little further, just reach a little further--

There's a deafening crunch.

Reshiram holds something in its mouth. Something unmoving. It lands gracefully. As if its head had never been clearer. It drops the thing casually. Preens its wings. The thing has the shape of Wolfgang, but it doesn't move.

The malice returns to Vanilla's core. They stand, eyes wide, for seconds or eternities. The thing doesn't move. She stumbles and nearly collapses on her first step. She keeps stumbling as Amadeus rushes over to the thing, some unspoken barrier broken. It doesn't move. Amadeus whines low and hurt and shakes the thing as Vanilla manages to lower himself towards the ground without collapsing. The thing doesn't move. Not to get up, not to mumble something into the dirt, not to breathe. But the thing is, without a doubt, Wolfgang.

Vanilla just kneels. Breathes. Waiting. Even when Amadeus lays her head on her auncle's lap, curling herself into the smallest shape she can muster. Even when Tula rushes over to confirm, as a trauma nurse, what was already known. Even when she tries to meet their eyes, leaning low, but can't. "...I'm... so sorry." They squeeze her hand so tight it hurts when she rests next to them.

Vanilla turns and blinks at the Swords as they approach. He takes in enough to shoo them off with his free hand. He stands roughly when Vision approaches with timid steps. Apologetic. Horrified, from the look on her face. Reliving something. She touches her fur collar again. Amadeus stands to steady her relative, but Vanilla keeps going, speeding until she full-force charges her counterpart, toppling them both to the ground. They draw their blade to Vision's throat wordlessly as Cross readjusts to capture the scene.

"...Do it. You know how I feel, correct? There's no life for me. After this."

His sword hand wavers like it can't decide where the blade's home is. There's a forceful intake of breath as their eyes water, the silence deafening.

Until Reshiram decides there's too much of it, its tail blazing to life. Vanilla glances up, back at Vision, and sighs as she weakly pushes off the ground.

"...But there is. You're going to help me. You say you want justice so badly... then start with yourself. Right your wrongs. And I'll do the same."

The video saves.]

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Brontë Bites - Chapter 5

Cathy: hey dad, your face looks uglier than a —

Mr. Earnshaw:

[gabiwnomagic]

Unless it's a well thought out intervention coming from a place of genuine concern, let's not bring up people's weight when talking to them 👍

[catsofimperium]

My Starlight

Darian had originally met his husband during a diplomatic mission. He was to escort the goddess’ daughter to the highest ridge in the Kingdom of Nocturnis, close to the Celestial Plane. On said ridge, they were to rest before traveling to the plane itself in the early morning’s light. Darian ensured they were within the small village’s walls, checking the security and that the queen was safely within her resting spot for the night, before retreating to his own. The strain from a long day’s travel did not make it difficult for Darian to fall asleep shortly after doing so.

However, in the middle of his rest, wings wrapped around himself to maintain his long fur’s warmth in the far colder environment, Darian heard something. A horrific cracking sound, only identifying it as the snapping of branches once the panic had subsided from being suddenly stirred. He listened to it, ears raised high, and waited for it to quiet before stepping from his bed.

The wood creaked beneath him as he slunk to the entrance. He kept his wings folded tightly against his form and his paw pads firmly to the ground so as to not attract anything with their light.  

Looking out the door of the cottage in which he resided, he could see a faint glow. It was too far away and hazy, snowflakes landing on Darian’s eyelashes, see the source. Though the way it kept bobbing up and down appeared unnatural to him.

Against his better judgment, he lifted up into the sky and followed that glow. The night storm was calm enough to allow him to peacefully glide down to the paths and cliffs below. The glow was heading away from the village and yet, one couldn’t be too careful. 

The object of that glow had stopped upon hitting a rock, its already dull nature becoming even more so at the contact. Darian landed a couple of feet in front of it, taking slow steps forward to investigate the object of his chase. 

When Darian found the Stell, he had been thrown against the rocks, covered in scratches and bruises from what the Lucern could only assume was a rather rough fall. The Stell left a heavy imprint in the snow, the trail following him explaining the constant bobbing.

Yet, no matter how much the Stell pleadingly looked up at the sky, his glow remained the same. Darian had never seen a Stell of his coloring, in fact. 

The Stell’s body was a deep, dark blue, resembling the night sky of that region. Yet, his constellations, stripes, and spots were pure black in hue, as were his eyes, both constantly shifting, though Darian imagined it was just a trick of the light. The lack of coloring extended to the tips of his tail, ears, and paws, only visible thanks to the snow.

Darian examined all these details before taking a deep breath. 

At times, killing was a mercy, especially when a cat could no longer do what came so naturally to it. When a Molten no longer spewed, or a Stell no longer glowed, as a few examples. It was likely that, without his interference, this Stell would be left to stare at the sky, waiting for his injury to come back only to starve in the process. Darian steeled his will, taking a step forward and unsheathing his claws. 

Yet, at his continued approach, the cat’s eyes suddenly snapped to him. Darian took several steps back as the Stell swiftly stood, legs trembling for a moment before crumbling into a sit. Darian considered offering his help and yet, the Stell did not make any more attempts, simply licking at a few of his wounds with a sparkling and translucent tongue. 

Darian cleared his throat as he let his claws become docile, though the cat did not look up.

“Do you perhaps need medical assistan-” 

Darian was cut off when the Stell’s stars began to glow, eyes mimicking them as they oozed with power. Both cast a dark light on their surroundings, stretching out to touch the darkness around them. The shadows it touched shifted, before lifting off the snow beds they occupied. 

They surrounded the Stell in a swirling display before hugging around his wounds in the form of bandages. They were wrapped tightly across the Stell’s fur, remaining in place, even as the Stell stood once more with shaky limbs. The glowing died down, Darian having stumbled against one of the rocks. 

“Y-you’re a Shade,” Darian said, glasses falling down his snout as he observed.

The Stell nodded, not so much as twinging at the magic now rubbing against his body. It was undoubtedly shadow magic, meaning the Stell must be a shade and yet, the Stell did not look corrupted like all the others did. 

He didn’t have a coat of black, nor did his head carry a horn, what was usually considered the parasite that made said magic flow through its victim’s veins. Darian had it ingrained into him since he started working with the goddess what shades looked like, so, where this cat fit within those confines left his brain feeling baffled.

It showed in the way he had sat there, feet sticking out, tail stuck up, and mouth slightly agape as he just stared. 

The Stell gave Darian a once over. Darian stood stock still as the cat did so, before giving him a sniff with his black nose and making a face. Darian didn’t imagine he smelled the best thanks to the long trek, though he was quite certain the sweet scent of the goddess’ realm still remained underneath all that filth. 

The Stell never spoke and yet, he didn’t have to. Darian had spent enough time in the moon’s temple to know how to read constellations. The ones that made up the strange cat’s body had read “Selene”. 

That gave Darian some confidence, clearing his throat and pushing himself up onto his paws. He turned the other way, lifting his head and letting his glasses shine in the moonlight to  display some authority. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter. Come along now, Selene. There’s a village just up ahead. We should have medicine for you there, if you’ll even need it…” 

The Stell put up no argument, other than a quiet huff, limping along with eyes wide and ears alert as Darian guided them back up the mountain.

@caxycreations

[younggayanddoingokay]

my whole life i thought i disliked omelets. Nope. turns out i just dislike WESTERN omelets. Asian-style omelets are objectively fantastic. Indian, vietnamese, etc. If an omelette isn't thin enough to roll like a fruit roll-up, get it off my plate

[wledbunny]

I want to join a pro 4n4 group pleaseeeee help me :( #proana

[thatqueergarbagerat]

Height dysphoria is a bitch

[wearejericho]

closed with @parameddic​

     today had been hell from the start. nearly half of detroit’s crew was on the scene of a multi-car pileup. there had to be at least eight or nine of them, injuries ranging from minor scrapes to immediate fatalities, and everything in between. the third or fourth ambulance is departing when eli’s phone starts buzzing in his pocket. he ignores it, initially. but it rings a second time. then a third. no spam call would do that, and adam knew better than to call more than once unless it was an emergency. it’s TK. 

    wait. he’d heard about this. a couple of officers left the scene about an hour ago, they’d needed back-up with a hostage situation. there were several already wounded, and the station was NOTORIOUS for reaching out to off-duty first responders before contacting other areas. TK was probably on that scene. and now he was calling, several times. eli tries his number back, but nothing. a second time — still nothing. his stomach drops. 

     ❝ anyone heard from TK? ❞ called out to a group of coworkers. negative. he pulls out his radio, calls to officer reyes — he’d been removed from this scene to deal with the hostage scenario. ❝ have you seen TK? he’s trying to get ahold of me. ❞ ‘he was with a patient when i left.’ ❝ on clifton road? with the shooting? ❞

    it doesn’t take long for eli to piece together what’s going on. it’s another five or ten minutes before he’s convinced one of their coworkers, chris, that someone needs to go check on him. chris agrees to drive the ambulance while eli continues trying to get in touch with TK. still nothing. he hopes he’s overreacting, that TK is just busy. but when they pull up to a seemingly empty lot, his stomach twists. 

    he finds TK half-bent over a table. there’s blood on his head and both of his hands. ❝ hey! ❞ eli calls out, arms wrapping around his friend’s waist. ❝ TK. what the hell happened? hey. ❞ he feels a hug back, initially, but he’s quickly getting heavier. going more and more limp. TK is easily half a foot taller than him, and probably fifty pounds heavier.  ❝ stay with me, buddy. i got you. come on, let’s sit you down. ❞ 

[mothersmalice-a]

so ive been rewatching season one to muster back muse, and i just think theres a lot to talk about in the scene where macphail and marisa have their talk in her study. specifically with this part of the scene:

i was devastated that we didn't have marisa's criticism of macphail saying she should've given lyra to the magisterium in TAS, but i think they did do so partly here, specifically in how marisa responds to hearing lyra standing alone with the magisterium priest outside, and the several things that would've gone through her head especially with the context of macphail's threat. you have the obvious, ie. marisa having her work threatened, and as a result appearing fiercely territorial of both lyra and her home which, in her eyes, he's shown blatant disrespect towards through his actions. you have the fact marisa knows they're aware of the affair, and that the less they know about what marisa is doing to keep lyra with her, the better.

her anger is palpable here, especially in the way that she looks at / approaches him once lyra leaves, and i just think that part of that stems from the fact she knows incredibly well the possibilities around what could've happened had she not been there to send lyra away. the implication that one of the men from an institution she knows is responsible for horrendous abuse towards people, especially young women and children, had imposed himself over and tried to intimidate her child in her home as if he had any right to speak to her in the first place.

her commentary on the church and the abuse that people, especially children were put through is so, so important, not only as a general commentary for the reader but for marisa as a character and the abuse she would've witnessed and experienced herself throughout her time with them. its a subtle thing, but i just appreciate the fact that if that was the intention, thorne / ruth / etc were planting small seeds for marisa's character in the setup and the acting for early season one.