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#I don't even understand ALL history
scltbvrns · 12 days
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homogenising something that has always been inherently diverse will kill us all one day.
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rawliverandgoronspice · 9 months
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Okay but. Posts that go:
"hmmmmmm Is Ganondorf Messy in terms of racial representation??? Would it be a *little* difficult to think about how to integrate central characteristics of his backstory, physical form and personality to the conflict without doubling down on the prejudices that started it all? Would it make the heroes like 5% more uncomfortable than usual?
Then maybe, fucking, erase him. Erase the things that are icky to think about or that divide people in any way --or better yet, erase the Whole Guy and start over."
...are kind of.... spectacularly missing the point, in my opinion.
Like, since when!!! do we fix racism by erasing racialized features, and therefore representation that matters to people and that people grew up with (yes even when it doesn't come from a perfect place), instead of, I don't know, the actual racism!!!
This is. Yeah. I know people don't mean it like that, and probably don't realize the dynamics at play here, but.
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flutterbyfairy · 4 months
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btw sexuality labels do not have to be super specific with strict boundaries of what "qualifies" as being that sexuality. you do not have to base how you define your sexuality on the first description that comes up on google; history, culture, the nuances of personal experience, and what you feel connected to are just as important a part of how you choose to identify!
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autismserenity · 2 months
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Me, looking through books on Palestine: "Ilan Pappé wrote one called 'The Biggest Prison On Earth?!' People in Gaza hate it being called a prison. There's an entire hashtag for it. There's been an account dedicated to collecting pics and videos of #TheGazaYouDontSee for 6 years.
"Is Pappé even Palestinian? oh god wait I can tell already. this is gonna be an 'Israeli apologist' isn't it." Internet: "Yeah, Pappé's Israeli."
Me: "For fuck's--- so people will believe Israelis unquestioningly if they're shit-talking Israel, but in all other situations, Israelis are all liars?"
Internet: "Pretty much. Also, at best, Ilan Pappé must be one of the world’s sloppiest historians."
Me, admittedly in full schadenfreude now: "What?!?!"
Internet: "Benny Morris. That historian who's extremely hard-core about primary source documentation, who wrote that detailed book about how and why each group of Palestinian refugees left in 1947-9. He reviewed three books about Palestine."
Me: "Holy shit. And the book by Pappé is about the Husaynis. The family that Nazi war criminal Amin al-Husseini came from, the guy who fucked absolutely everything up for both Israel and Palestine."
Internet: "That's the one. Morris wrote, 'At best, Ilan Pappe must be one of the world’s sloppiest historians; at worst, one of the most dishonest. In truth, he probably merits a place somewhere between the two.'"
Me: "Why??"
Internet: "He says, 'Here is a clear and typical example—in detail, which is where the devil resides—of Pappe’s handiwork. I take this example from The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine'....
"Blah blah blah, basically in 1947 the UN voted to partition the land into Palestine and Israel, and extremist militias started shooting at Jewish towns and people. David Ben-Gurion was the leader of the Jewish community there, and his journal describes a visit from a scientist named Aharon Katzir, telling him about an experiment codenamed "Shimshon." Morris gives us the journal entry:
...An experiment was conducted on animals. The researchers were clothed in gas masks and suit. The suit costs 20 grush, the mask about 20 grush (all must be bought immediately). The operation [or experiment] went well. No animal died, the [animals] remained dazzled [as when a car’s headlights dazzle an oncoming driver] for 24 hours. There are some 50 kilos [of the gas]. [They] were moved to Tel Aviv. The [production] equipment is being moved here. On the laboratory level, some 20 kilos can be produced per day.
"Morris says, 'This is the only accessible source that exists, to the best of my knowledge, about the meeting and the gas experiment, and it is the sole source cited by Pappe for his description of the meeting and the "Shimshon" project. But this is how Pappe gives the passage in English:
Katzir reported to Ben-Gurion: 'We are experimenting with animals. Our researchers were wearing gas masks and adequate outfit. Good results. The animals did not die (they were just blinded). We can produce 20 kilos a day of this stuff.'
"'The translation is flecked with inaccuracies, but the outrage is in Pappe’s perversion of "dazzled," or sunveru, to "blinded"—in Hebrew "blinded" would be uvru, the verb not used by Ben-Gurion—coupled with the willful omission of the qualifier '"for 24 hours."'
"'Pappe’s version of this text is driven by something other than linguistic and historiographical accuracy. Published in English for the English-speaking world, where animal-lovers are legion and deliberately blinding animals would be regarded as a barbaric act, the passage, as published by Pappe, cannot fail to provoke a strong aversion to Ben-Gurion and to Israel.
"'Such distortions, large and small, characterize almost every page of The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine. So I should add, to make the historical context perfectly clear, that no gas was ever used in the war of 1948 by any of the participants. [Or, he later notes, by either Israel or Palestine ever.] Pappe never tells the reader this.
"'Raising the subject of gas is historical irrelevance. But the paragraph will dangle in the reader’s imagination as a dark possibility, or worse, a dark reality: the Jews, gassed by the Nazis three years before, were about to gas, or were gassing, Arabs.'"
Me: "Uuuuggghhhhhhhhh. Yeah, it will."
Internet: "He does say, 'Palestinian Dynasty was a good idea.' Then he does some really detailed historian-dragging about the lack of primary sources and reliance on people's interpretations of what they say instead.
"'Almost all of Pappe’s references direct the reader to books and articles in English, Hebrew, and Arabic by other scholars, or to the memoirs of various Arab politicians, which are not the most reliable of sources. Occasionally there is a reference to an Arab or Western travelogue or genealogy, or to a diplomat’s memoir; but there is barely an allusion to documents in the relevant British, American, and Zionist/Israeli archives.
"'When referring to the content of American consular reports about Arab riots in the 1920s, for example, Pappe invariably directs the reader to an article in Hebrew by Gideon Biger—“The American Consulate in Jerusalem and the Events of 1920-1921,” in Cathedra, September 1988—and not to the documents themselves, which are easily accessible in the United States National Archive.
"'Those who falsify history routinely take the path of omission. They ignore crucial facts and important pieces of evidence while cherry-picking from the documentation to prove a case. 
"'Those who falsify history routinely take the path of omission. They ignore crucial facts and important pieces of evidence while cherry-picking from the documentation to prove a case. 
"'But Pappe is more brazen. He, too, often omits and ignores significant evidence, and he, too, alleges that a source tells us the opposite of what it in fact says, but he will also simply and straightforwardly falsify evidence.
"'Consider his handling of the Arab anti-Jewish riots of the 1920s.
"'Pappe writes of the “Nabi Musa” riots in April 1920: “The [British] Palin Commission... reported that the Jewish presence in the country was provoking the Arab population and was the cause of the riots.” He also quotes at length Musa Kazim al-Husayni, the clan’s leading notable at the time, to the effect that “it was not the [Arab] Hebronites who had started the riots but the Jews.”
"'But the (never published) [Palin Commission Report], while forthrightly anti-Zionist, thereby accurately reflecting the prevailing views in the British military government that ruled Palestine until mid-1920, flatly and strikingly charged the Arabs with responsibility for the bloodshed.
"'The team chaired by Major-General P.C. Palin wrote that “it is perfectly clear that with... few exceptions the Jews were the sufferers, and were, moreover, the victims of a peculiarly brutal and cowardly attack, the majority of the casualties being old men, women and children.” The inquiry pointed out that whereas 216 Jews were killed or injured, the British security forces and the Jews, in defending themselves or in retaliatory attacks, caused only twenty-five Arab casualties.'"
Me: "Yeah. I'm looking at that report right now and it says there had been an explosion, and then people were looting Jewish stores and beating Jews with stones, and in one case stabbing someone. Some people said that some Jews got up on the roof of a hotel and retaliated by throwing stones themselves.
"And then it literally says, 'The point as to the retaliation by Jews is of importance because it seems to have impressed the Military and led them to imagine that the Jews were to some extent responsible for provoking the rising.' That's the only thing it really says about anyone blaming the Jews.
"Except.... the very beginning gives some historical context. And it does say that when the Balfour Declaration came out, Muslims and Christians 'considered that they were to be handed over to an oppression which they hated far more than the Turk's and were aghast at the thought of this domination....
"'If this intensity of feeling proceeded merely from wounded pride of race and disappointment in political aspirations, it would be easier to criticise and rebuke: but it must be borne in mind that at the bottom of all is a deepseated fear of the Jew, both as a possible ruler and as an economic competitor. Rightly or wrongly they fear the Jew as a ruler, regarding his race as one of the most intolerant known to history....
"'The prospect of extensive Jewish immigration fills him with a panic fear, which may be exaggerated, but is none the less genuine. He sees the ablest race intellectually in the world, past-masters in all the arts of ousting competitors whether on the market, in the farm or the bureaucratic offices, backed by apparently inexhaustible funds given by their compatriots in all lands and possessed of powerful influence in the councils of the nations, prepared to enter the lists against him in every one of his normal occupations, backed by the one thing wanted to make them irresistible, the physical force of a great Imperial Power, and he feels himself overmastered and defeated before the contest is begun.'
"Wow! What a great fucking example of how 'positive' stereotypes are actually used to fuck people over! We're not antisemitic, we actually think Jews are the smartest, most powerful, richest group with tremendous global power! So positive!! Not at all being used here to justify antisemitic violence!
"Also, immigration from all over the world actually meant that different agricultural and manufacturing techniques were brought into the region, and yes, financial investments to start businesses sometimes, which meant that Arab Palestinians there had the highest per capita income in the Middle East, the highest daily wages, and started a lot of businesses of their own. But go off, I guess."
"Anyfuckingway.... it basically says that the Muslims and Christians were angry and scared, the Jews were too quick to set up the functioning government that the Brits were supposed to be there to help both sides create -- and which the Arab leaders completely refused to create for Palestine, because (1) fascists and (2) didn't want Jews nearby -- and that they were "ready prey for any form of agitation hostile to the British Government and the Jews." Then it says the movement for a United Syria was agitating them real hard, and so were the Sherifians.
"Is that what Ilan Passe, I mean Pappe, meant by the Palin Report blaming the Jews?! That when it says it's understandable the Arabs were freaking out, because antisemitism, Pappe thinks it's saying the Jews were provoking them?!"
Internet: "I don't know. I kinda tuned out after the first hour you were talking."
Me: "OGH MY GOD"
Internet: "So anyway, then Morris ALSO says, 'About the 1929 “Temple Mount” riots, which included two large-scale massacres of Jews, in Hebron and in Safed, Pappe writes: “The opposite camp, Zionist and British, was no less ruthless [than the Arabs]. In Jaffa a Jewish mob murdered seven Palestinians.”
Me: "What the ENTIRE FUCK? There was no united 'Zionist and British' camp! The Brits would barely let any Holocaust refugees in, ffs!"
Internet: "Morris says, 'Actually, there were no massacres of Arabs by Jews, though a number of Arabs were killed when Jews defended themselves or retaliated after Arab violence.
"'Pappe adds that the British “Shaw Commission,” so-called because it was chaired by Sir Walter Shaw (a former chief justice of the Straits Settlements), which investigated the riots, “upheld the basic Arab claim that Jewish provocations had caused the violent outbreak. ‘The principal cause... was twelve years of pro-Zionist [British] policy.’”
"'It is unclear what Pappe is quoting from. I did not find this sentence in the commission’s report. Pappe’s bibliography refers, under “Primary Sources,” simply to “The Shaw Commission.” The report? The deliberations? Memoranda by or about? Who can tell?
"'The footnote attached to the quote, presumably to give its source, says, simply, “Ibid.”
"'The one before it says, “Ibid., p. 103.”
"'The one before that says, “The Shaw Commission, session 46, p. 92.”
"'But the quoted passage does not appear on page 103 of the report.
"In the text of Palestinian Dynasty, Pappe states that “Shaw wrote [this] after leaving the country [Palestine].” But if it is not in the report, where did Shaw “write” it?'"
Me: "I'M ON IT. [rapid-fire googling] OMG. This is.... Not the first time. In 'The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine,' he reported that in a 1937 letter to his son, David Ben-Gurion declared: 'The Arabs will have to go, but one needs an opportune moment for making it happen, such as war.'
"It's not in the source he gave. It's not in any of the three different sources he's given for it.
"He apparently has never responded to any requests for an explanation, either from the journal he published in, or from other historians. But it says he did "obliquely [acknowledge] the controversy in an article in Electronic Intifada, in which he portrayed himself as the victim of intimidation at the hands of “Zionist hooligans.”'
"This is absolutely fucking wild. THEN it says the chair of the Ethics Committee where he was teaching eventually said that the second part of the quote ('but one needs,' etc) was a (combined?) paraphrase of a diary entry and a speech Ben-Gurion gave, and that the first half is 'based on' a letter to his son.
"And it's so convincing! The chair says, 'Shabtai Teveth[,] Ben Gurion’s biographer, Benny Morris and the historian Nur Maslaha have all quoted this letter. In fact their translation was stronger than the quotation from Professor Pappé: ‘We must expel the Arabs and take their place.’ Professor Pappé has documentary evidence of these quotations and the source will ensure that this is correctly cited in any future editions of the publication or related studies.'
"And IT'S NOT EVEN TRUE?!
"Ben-Gurion's actual diary entry (not a letter) says the opposite.
“'We do not want and do not need to expel Arabs and take their places.... All our aspiration is built on the assumption – proven throughout all our activity – that there is enough room in the country for ourselves and the Arabs.'
"Benny Morris misquoted it as "We must expel the Arabs and take their places" in the English version of his 1987 book The Birth of the Palestinian Refugee Problem, although it was correct in the Hebrew version. He corrected himself in the 2001 book Righteous Victims.
"Teveth also misquoted it in the English version of his 1985 book Ben-Gurion and the Palestinian Arabs, but again, had it correct in the Hebrew edition.
"And both Morris and Teveth explicitly point out the rest of the entry. The part about all their aspiration being built on the assumption and experience that there was enough room in the country for everyone.
"Historian Efraim Karsh’s 1997 book Fabricating Israeli History pointed out and corrected their mistakes.
"This is apparently a very well-known issue among historians of Israel and Palestine. It was a big deal in 2003, when an evangelist Christian publisher put out a book FULL of disinformation, which not only used the same quote as Pappe does, but also could not give a real source for it.
"But Pappe STILL USED THE MISQUOTE AND DOUBLED DOWN ON IT EVERY SINGLE TIME."
Internet: "Are you done? I know all this already."
Me: "Also, there are literally only two places where the phrase 'twelve years of pro-Zionist policy' shows up online, and they're both about Pappe making quotes up.
"NOW I'm done."
Benny Morris wasn't, though. The review continues at the link below. And the next part starts, "To the deliberate slanting of history Pappe adds a profound ignorance of basic facts. Together these sins and deficiencies render his “histories” worthless as representations of the past, though they are important as documents in the current political and historiographic disputations about the Arab-Israeli conflict. Pappe’s grasp of the facts of World War I, for example, is weak in the extreme."
#i hate people misrepresenting history in general#i extra hate it when people do it with malice aforethought#ilan pappe#is a lying liar and people need to stop recommending his bullshit when it's been so thoroughly debunked#this is a good example of anti-Zionism being antisemitism tbh. I have yet to see anti-Zionist accounts of history that are accurate#like if you have to victim-blame people who were baked in ovens during an anti-Jewish riot you are PROBABLY in the wrong#I was looking for a piece explaining the 1920 and 1929 anti-Jewish riots that I could link here that wasn't from an explicitly Jewish sourc#because I don't trust people to take an article from the Jewish Virtual Library or whatever without being like “this is Zionist propaganda!#even if it's about an extremely violent massacre of Jews#so I clicked specifically on the Encyclopedia of the Palestine Question and similar sources#and what all of them did was gloss right over the massacres and violence and just vaguely mention “the demonstrations in 1920”#or not mention them at all of course#I guess that makes sense but wow. now I understand more of how ignorant people are about the entire history here#not only has it all been presented to you as “this started in 1947 or 48! the Jews stole all the land! it's been genocide ever since!”#so that people literally tell me “they invaded in 1947 and kicked out the Palestinians and took their land”#but also you have to fill in anything before that yourself#and the only propaganda you have access to usually is this myth that everyone was perfectly happy together until Israel... killed everyone?#it's really super weird to see people say that Jews and Muslims and Christians all lived happily together before this#like what do you think happened? everyone was happy and suddenly the jews were like “fuck you we're taking over and killing everyone?”#that probably is what people think happened tbh#they don't need for there to be any motivation or for that to make sense because they've bought the idea that it's just pure evil ig#for some reason people have to reverse-engineer hamas's massacre and imagine that israel did even worse to justify it#a terrorist group doesn't come out of nowhere! i don't think you know what terrorism is tbh#but they're happy to assume that whatever they think israel did came out of nowhere#god i'm fucking tired#anyway fuck ilan pappe#there are WAY BETTER HISTORIES OF PALESTINE#i've heard good things about Gaza: A History but of course that's not all of palestine#long post#such a long post
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Flourish AU - Dragonheart Pirkko - Durmond Priory
Champion of the Caustic Elder Dragon
"Lasting change isn't gentle. It's harsh, abrasive, and inescapable. Either we'll adapt or we'll die trying."
"A better world starts with deciding what we're prepared to lose."
#my posts#guild wars 2#gw2#gw2 fan submission#Dragonheart Pirkko#Flourish AU#with all the sales going on i finally finished her look#she needed the maguuma shoulders + wanderer mask#(the wanderer mask NEVER goes on sale so if you want it you better grab it like Now. no really look at the gemstore history)#(it hadn't even been in the store at all since 2022 and this is the first time it's ever been on sale I Am Not Joking)#the only thing i wish is for a Vlast variant for the Aurene leggies for her but oh well. not every dream will come true.#i really gotta talk about this particular AU sometime tho tbh...#in Regrowth she's afraid of what she is and could become.#in Flourish though? she accepts even the parts that scare her. her power isn't something to fear. it's a tool and a weapon.#the blood of the jungle dragon flows through her veins and Tyria WILL hear her ROAR. her ENEMIES should be afraid.#she becomes the Champion of Vlast for a lot of reasons but the most significant is that they're so much alike.#neither has ever been anything other than the destiny that was set before them... and they don't know who they are outside that context.#they're trapped in roles they were molded for since their first breath. they barely understand the world they were built to save.#and yet... in spite of it all. they continue on. they do what they must. they fight for those who can't fight for themselves.#they're going to figure it out together... because in this big bright bold world they're the only two that REALLY understand each other.#they want to leave the world better than it was for them.#... even if they likely won't survive to see that happen.#the future will be better because it has to be. it must be. otherwise what have they spent their entire lives fighting for?#they don't belong to this world... but they can still build a better one. one that won't need anyone like them ever again.#I have... many thoughts about these two...
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count-doodoo · 5 months
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"you know a lot about star wars"
OH YOU HAVE NO IDEA SIR. WE HAVEN'T EVEN GOTTEN ANYWHERE NEAR MY BLORBO GLUP SHITTO.
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the-busy-ghost · 1 year
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Alright uninformed rant time. It kind of bugs me that, when studying the Middle Ages, specifically in western Europe, it doesn’t seem to be a pre-requisite that you have to take some kind of “Basics of Mediaeval Catholic Doctrine in Everyday Practise” class. 
Obviously you can’t cover everything- we don’t necessarily need to understand the ins and outs of obscure theological arguments (just as your average mediaeval churchgoer probably didn’t need to), or the inner workings of the Great Schism(s), nor how apparently simple theological disputes could be influenced by political and social factors, and of course the Official Line From The Vatican has changed over the centuries (which is why I’ve seen even modern Catholics getting mixed up about something that happened eight centuries ago). And naturally there are going to be misconceptions no matter how much you try to clarify things for people, and regional/class/temporal variations on how people’s actual everyday beliefs were influenced by the church’s rules. 
But it would help if historians studying the Middle Ages, especially western Christendom, were all given a broadly similar training in a) what the official doctrine was at various points on certain important issues and b) how this might translate to what the average layman believed. Because it feels like you’re supposed to pick that up as you go along and even where there are books on the subject they’re not always entirely reliable either (for example, people citing books about how things worked specifically in England to apply to the whole of Europe) and you can’t ask a book a question if you’re confused about any particular point. 
I mean I don’t expect to be spoonfed but somehow I don’t think that I’m supposed to accumulate a half-assed religious education from, say, a 15th century nobleman who was probably more interested in translating chivalric romances and rebelling against the Crown than religion; an angry 16th century Protestant; a 12th century nun from some forgotten valley in the Alps; some footnotes spread out over half a dozen modern political histories of Scotland; and an episode of ‘In Our Time’ from 2009. 
But equally if you’re not a specialist in church history or theology, I’m not sure that it’s necessary to probe the murky depths of every minor theological point ever, and once you’ve started where does it end? 
Anyway this entirely uninformed rant brought to you by my encounter with a sixteenth century bishop who was supposedly writing a completely orthodox book to re-evangelise his flock and tempt them away from Protestantism, but who described the baptismal rite in a way that sounds decidedly sketchy, if not heretical. And rather than being able to engage with the text properly and get what I needed from it, I was instead left sitting there like:
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And frankly I didn’t have the time to go down the rabbit hole that would inevitably open up if I tried to find out
#This is a problem which is magnified in Britain I think as we also have to deal with the Hangover from Protestantism#As seen even in some folk who were raised Catholic but still imbibed certain ideas about the Middle Ages from culturally Protestant schools#And it isn't helped when we're hit with all these popular history tv documentaries#If I have to see one more person whose speciality is writing sensational paperbacks about Henry VIII's court#Being asked to explain for the British public What The Pope Thought I shall scream#Which is not even getting into some of England's super special common law get out clauses#Though having recently listened to some stuff in French I'm beginning to think misconceptions are not limited to Great Britain#Anyway I did take some realy interesting classes at uni on things like marriage and religious orders and so on#But it was definitely patchy and I definitely do not have a good handle on how it all basically hung together#As evidenced by the fact that I've probably made a tonne of mistakes in this post#Books aren't entirely helpful though because you can't ask them questions and sometimes the author is just plain wrong#I mean I will take book recommendations but they are not entirely helpful; and we also haven't all read the same stuff#So one person's idea of what the basics of being baptised involved are going to radically differ from another's based on what they read#Which if you are primarily a political historian interested in the Hundred Years' War doesn't seem important eonugh to quibble over#But it would help if everyone was given some kind of similar introductory training and then they could probe further if needed/wanted#So that one historian's elementary mistake about baptism doesn't affect generations of specialists in the Hundred Years' War#Because they have enough basic knowledge to know that they can just discount that tiny irrelevant bit#This is why seminars are important folks you get to ASK QUESTIONS AND FIGURE OUT BITS YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND#And as I say there is a bit of a habit in this country of producing books about say religion in mediaeval England#And then you're expected to work out for yourself which bits you can extrapolate and assume were true outwith England#Or France or Scotland or wherever it may be though the English and the French are particularly bad for assuming#that whatever was true for them was obviously true for everyone else so why should they specify that they're only talking about France#Alright rant over#Beginning to come to the conclusion that nobody knows how Christianity works but would like certain historians to stop pretending they do#Edit: I sort of made up the examples of the historical people who gave me my religious education above#But I'm now enamoured with the idea of who actually did give me my weird ideas about mediaeval Catholicism#Who were my historical godparents so to speak#Do I have an idea of mediaeval religion that was jointly shaped by some professor from the 1970s and a 6th century saint?#Does Cardinal Campeggio know he's responsible for some much later human being's catechism?#Fake examples again but I'm going to be thinking about that today
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chaosandbeyond · 5 days
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goodbye watcher i guess
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crispycreambacon · 2 months
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I really wanna discuss Ryan/Professor with someone, but the problem is that people barely know of this ship 'cause the show isn't meant for shipping, and if they do, they either hate it, ship it only as a joke or are wildly horny over it like.
I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who interprets this ship the way I do, and it sucks 'cause gAH I WANNA TALK ABOUT IT but the chance of someone hearing me out is so low, if anyone wants to hear me out, please let me know 💀🙏🏽
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solvicrafts · 5 months
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Just saw some people saying that the Loki s2 finale was crap because it wasn't approached with a Christian perspective.
Loki is based off of the Norse deity, you absolute chucklefucks.
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skyloftian-nutcase · 4 months
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Breath of the Sky Ch 13 (Skyward Sword meets BotW)
Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.
AO3 link
Chapter 13 - The Failure
They needed to talk. They needed to plan.
Despite the overwhelming despair and uncertainty, despite the fear and pain, Zelda found herself growing motivated the longer she held the princess. She felt the fire returning, the stubborn determination that made a goddess let herself die and be reborn, the steadfastness that pushed her to seal herself away for thousands of years, the protectiveness that had led to the creation of Skyloft.
And so, after wiping the princess’ tears, Zelda had told her they were going to talk to Link. Both of them.
The champion had been easy to locate. He had been hovering outside, trying his best to look calm but easily giving away his concern with the way his eyes lingered too long on the princess, the speed at which he walked to her. Zelda had explained quickly that they needed to find her Link next, and they set about that goal quickly.
The conviction of a goddess mixed with the nervousness of a teenager, though, and Zelda fell into her habit of worrying when it concerned those she cared about… particularly Link.
“Okay,” she said as she marched ahead, nearly dragging the other two with her. “Okay. So. The plan—the plan is to seal him away. We can sort out killing him after. We can do that. We just need to figure out what’s going on with your ability to seal him away. And you—” here she turned to the champion, finger pointing with enough ferocity to be a dagger “You get to kick his ass, but I’m helping do that too because I want to punch his stupid face. I’m sure Link—my Link—uh, Cloud can help with that too, but we need to find him. This is just—this is fine. This is fine. We don’t need the Triforce yet, it’ll be okay. This is fine.”
The look exchanged between the princess and the champion implied that her ramblings were not, in fact, fine, but Zelda ignored it.
Her anxious energy began to grow frustrated as they wandered the castle. Link’s plight of constantly chasing her down was becoming extremely relatable at the moment. As they rounded yet another corner, Zelda felt relief at seeing a familiar colorful uniform with sandy blonde hair peeking out of the navy blue cap.
“Excuse me!” Zelda called, running towards the familiar guard. He genuflected when he turned and saw her. “Have you seen Link? My Link?”
“I know his location, Your Grace,” he answered. “I was actually heading his way. Would you like me to take you to him?”
Given all the information she’d been dealing with, and given all the running around she’d already done, the sheer comfort and happiness at not only hearing that someone could help her locate her husband, but that it was the one person who reminded her of Impa, made Zelda laugh and fall to her knees to be at eye level with the guard. She hugged him tightly. “Thank goodness! Thank you so much, I would love that!”
The guard stiffened under her hold, just as Impa had the first time she’d hugged her, but she didn’t care. Goddesses she needed some kind of stable rock to rely on in this place, and she didn’t have one, but this guard came close. She saw the reflection of the window ahead of her that he was looking at the princess and the champion, the former holding a hand over her mouth to cover a gasp while the latter watched the guard worriedly.
Honestly, these people. How did any society develop to be so emotionally stifled, anyway?
“I need to teach all of you that hugs are a good thing, good grief,” she chuckled as she pulled away. “But anyway, please do show us where Link is.”
The guard took a deep breath, nodding and rising. He guided them in silence, though the sights of the castle kept Zelda preoccupied – they were heading somewhere she hadn’t been yet, and though the stone walls all blended into each other to create a massive maze, she saw light from outside and grew hopeful. It seemed Link, just like her, didn’t care for being cooped up in this stone prison of sorts, as beautiful as it was.
Zelda had to admit that, though she wanted to help her people grow on the Surface, she was a child of the Sky nonetheless.
They wandered a path that seemed vaguely familiar from their expedition into the nearby large town, though the guard guided them down a road that Link and Zelda had pointedly avoided due to the place flooding with people. Eventually, they wound up near a tower farthest from the castle, overlooking a good portion of land and the town below. The sun was high in the sky now, and Zelda turned to the guard as they approached the tower.
“Is there somewhere we can get food in town?” she asked. She was well aware the castle had food too, but she… didn’t want to go back there.
“We can arrange to have lunch brought to you here, if you wish,” the guard replied. “But yes, there are many places in Castle Town where you can get food.”
Upon their arrival to the structure, the guard dismissed the two colorfully clad knights who had been standing post in the entranceway. He turned to face the group. “The Hero is inside, Your Grace. I’ll ensure no one enters.” His gaze moved beyond her, settling on the champion, and he spoke with a softer tone, “When time allows, Link, Princess Mipha wished to speak with you.”
With that, the knight moved aside to let them pass, standing guard. Zelda looked back at the other two, temporarily distracted—was there another princess? Did Princess Zelda have a sister that they hadn’t met yet? She shook her head, returning her focus to the task at hand. She could only gather so many people together at once, after all. It had taken half the day just to get to this point.
Motioning to the two behind her, she walked into the cavernous structure, hearing Link’s footsteps scraping the stone up above. They climbed a ladder to reach the upper level, the bright daylight dazzling Zelda’s eyes for a moment, and she saw the silhouette of her husband pacing back and forth, clearly agitated.
“Link,” she called with a smile, relieved they were all finally together. Her smile fell, however, at the distressed look on her husband’s face.
Link froze, facing away from her, holding himself with trembling hands. She approached him slowly, worry eating away at her already weary heart. When she was close enough to touch him, she wrapped her arms slowly around him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder. “What’s the matter, Dove?”
Link felt tense under her arms, but then he draped his arms over hers and squeezed her wrists lovingly, stroking her hands with his thumbs. She shifted so she could stand beside him, peeking around his arm with a curious glance. His expression was soft, enchanted by what he saw, but his eyes were dark and stormy. He glanced at her, his heavy brow relaxing a little. “We started all this.”
There was wonder and a quiet timidity to his voice, awe and disbelief and acceptance settling into him. Zelda squeezed him reassuringly, cocking her head to the side and giving him a soft smile. “Yeah. We did.”
Link let out a shaky breath, and then he let her go, looking down. Zelda’s arms fell to her sides, and she grew worried as she watched him ruminate.
His mouth became a thin line. “And I… I screwed it all up. I cursed everything, everyone. I cursed them.”
“Link,” Zelda said, caught off guard. Although the guilt was gnawing at her as well, she wasn’t entirely blaming herself in such a manner. Demise had outplayed them, and it made her angry and scared and mournful, it made her question how they could actually defeat him if she hadn’t been able to as a goddess or with the Triforce, but she’d still placed the majority of the blame on the demon king himself, not her or Link. Her husband’s worries were clearly eating him alive. He hadn’t even noticed that they weren’t alone.
“Don’t,” Link immediately hissed, growing stormy. “Don’t even try it. You did everything right, you did your part, you trusted me to finish things and I didn’t.”
“What are you talking about?” Zelda asked, putting a hand to his cheek. “Link, you defeated him. We had no way of knowing—”
“I did,” Link spat, pulling out of her reach and turning away, his hands shaking as he clenched his fists. His shoulders hunched and his entire body was so tense it was ready to snap. “He said it himself. I thought—I was such an idiot, Zelda, I—I thought—he started speaking about how his hatred would follow my spirit and your bloodline, and it sounded like the dying words of a monster, I—I didn’t realize it was a promise, a curse, that he was—I didn’t—I d-didn’t—”
Link’s body stiffened even further as shuddering gasps and hiccups interrupted his words, and he bowed his head, hugging himself. Zelda immediately rushed around him to face him fully once more, dragging him into the tightest hug she could muster, willing all of her love into it as her mind whirled.
“You had no way of knowing,” she repeated as she processed what he’d said. What promise was he speaking of? Did it even matter? “And who’s to say it was a curse right in that moment? Who’s to say it wouldn’t have happened whether he spoke it or not? Who’s to say there was any stopping it? Link, I was a goddess. I was a goddess and I couldn’t stop him. You did everything you were meant to do – you solved the puzzles, you tempered the Goddess Sword and made it into the Blade of Evil’s Bane, you traveled through time, you got the Triforce and used it to kill him. You beat him. It was Ghirahim who screwed everything up.”
Ghirahim. It was Ghirahim.
Was that truly why they were in this mess? The realization struck her as she spoke the words, because they were true – she’d exited her slumber because Demise had been killed, after all. Ghirahim was the one who sabotaged it, but Link had ensured that…
“What exactly did he say?” she asked, pulling away to look her husband in the eye.
“He said… he said his hatred never dies. That it would be born again and again, that those who share the blood of the goddess and the spirit of the hero would forever be bound to this curse: an incarnation of his hatred would follow our kind forever, dooming them to darkness and bloodshed.” Link said slowly, refusing to look at her.
Zelda stared at him, dumbfounded. Why… why hadn’t he ever mentioned this before?
As if reading her mind, he stepped away from her, shaking his head and saying, “I—I thought—he was defeated, Zel, I stabbed him in the chest, I thought it was over. The amount of times Ghirahim would give some speech or another despite being defeated, the words were meaningless at that point. Just some other enemy spouting hatred while he bleeds to death. The sword… Fi told me to raise the sword, that it would absorb the remaining evil, that she would seal him away as designed. I didn’t—I didn’t realize—what did I do wrong?”
The trembling of his tone tore at her heart, and Zelda tried to walk towards him again. She couldn’t fathom why Link wouldn’t have mentioned this, but at the same time, his words made sense—and brought so many more questions to mind. How many times had he fought Ghirahim, anyway? The more she considered it, the more she realized she hadn’t really asked much about his adventure. Their time after that journey had been spent recovering and then pointedly avoiding the topic altogether.
Goddesses above, this was all a mess.
“Impa was right,” Link said suddenly, his voice no longer trembling, but so, so dark. “You were wrong. Hylia was wrong. I’m no Hero. Even Fi has decided that! She already chose a successor, after all.”
“Link,” Zelda tried to argue, immediately growing agitated. This sort of talk wasn’t going to do them any good, and she hated seeing him like this. “This isn’t—I know—”
Link’s eyes narrowed at her as if she were an enemy. The look stole her voice from her throat and made her blood freeze. She’d never seen Link this upset. “Yes, you know. Your Grace knows everything. You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late to even stop you from—from—How does it feel to not have all the pieces until it’s too late? You were wrong.”
Zelda took a step back, her breath sucking in like a gasp as if she’d just been smacked. Link sighed, sensing the change in atmosphere, immediate regret flashing across his face before he finally seemed to notice the other two, who at this point were practically trying to disappear into the walls.
Link’s eyes fixed on the champion, and then he shook his head. The fight quickly drained out of him, but so did any desire to continue talking. He moved quickly towards one of the openings and leapt out of it. Zelda didn’t follow.
The champion ran across the way to peer over where Link had jumped. The princess slowly walked towards Zelda, who was still trying to catch her breath.
There was silence for a long time as the princess hovered near her, as she tried to catch her breath, as Link’s words played over and over in her head.
“Your Grace…?” The princess began hesitantly, a tenderness and shyness to her voice.
Zelda burst into tears.
You always did, stringing me along without ever telling me everything until it was too late.
Guilt sprang forth anew, revitalized by her husband’s accusations, having been squished again and again by both her and Link. It reared its ugly head, reminding her that the fact that Link had been dragged into all of this was very much her fault. Despite being the best fighter among the knights of Skyloft, Link was a softhearted young man through and through. She should have never—but—what choice did she—
Zelda continued to cry, bending over and hugging herself and falling to her knees. Her hiccups and sobs echoed in the area, lost to her own whirling mind but very much laying heavily on the other two occupants.
Link, Champion of Hyrule, felt very much out of place. But he also felt very desperate to try and help. He made his way to the goddess, crumpled on the floor, and his heart hurt to see her like that. He knelt carefully, gently resting a hand on her shoulder, desperately looking at the princess for help.
His own mind was whirling as much as everyone else’s likely was. The words that had been spat out by the Hero of Myth and Legend no longer held the same sting to them. Instead, they rang with such a heartbreaking familiarity, all the way down to the misplaced vitriol.
Zelda. He’d sounded like Zelda.
Never in his life had Link considered that if he ever met the Spirit of the Hero, it would act exactly as his dejected princess did.
He wanted nothing more than to reassure the weeping goddess that it wasn’t her fault at all, just as it wasn’t his fault that Zelda struggled to fulfill her destiny while his came easily. He wanted to tell her that the Hero just needed time and help, just as his princess did. But he was in absolutely no position to do so – he didn’t know what words he could say to reassure Hylia herself, nor could he brainstorm such a conversation with the princess as she herself was just as much a culprit of such behavior as the Hero was. Though, to her credit, she was trying to improve that, hence their budding friendship. But…
Desperate, Link looked pleadingly at Zelda, motioning to the goddess with his head. Do something.
The princess held her hands in front of her chest anxiously, one hand playing with the her wrist. “Your Grace… I… I’m sure he didn’t…”
Hylia continued to cry, not acknowledging either of them. At least she wasn’t upset that Link was touching her. He really wished he could do more.
Link thought of suggesting that they get lunch, but he had a feeling his own love for food would not help the matter. Hylia didn’t seem like the thought of a delicious meal would cheer her up.
The champion was quickly running out of ideas, just as his friend seemed equally clueless. However, Zelda finally knelt down as well, ignoring the dirt she was getting on her dress, and placed her hand on Hylia’s other shoulder. “Your Grace, I’m… I’m sorry.”
Hylia glanced up, eyes puffy, tears staining her flushed cheeks. It was… not a look Link would expect from a goddess.
He supposed he had never thought a goddess could get upset like this. He remembered her radiant smile and eagerness to befriend earlier in the day, and his heart ached even more.
He opened his mouth to speak, but still found himself choking on words. He didn’t know what he could say to help her, what would be appropriate, what would be helpful. Hylia’s gaze was fixed on the princess instead, and Link hesitantly pulled away to give the two some space. Zelda’s eyes quickly darted to his, pleading for support, but he didn’t know what to do.
Hylia stole Zelda’s attention anyway as she hiccupped and shook her head, her gaze dropping to the floor again as she squeezed her eyes shut. The princess shuffled a little closer. Link stepped further away, trying to figure out how he could help, what he could do. He could at least maybe get them some food, giving Hylia and her descendant time to regain composure, and then he could help them in that regard.
Sliding down the ladder, Link continued to hesitate as he dragged his feet to the exit of the guard house. His father was surprisingly missing, despite having been standing guard, leaving Link a little disappointed. He doubted his father could give him advice on the matter, but it would have been nice to at least see him. Instead, Link fumbled to follow through on his decision, feeling like it wasn’t helpful but not knowing what else to do.
“Oh, Link! There you are!”
Startled, Link turned to see his friend, Mipha, approaching, looking relieved. She smiled, red scales glowing in the noon sun, and Link felt like he was drowning in the ocean and just finally saw a lighthouse guiding him.
Link strode up to her immediately, hands gesturing frantically with words he couldn’t piece together, and his friend quickly noticed his distress. “Link, what’s wrong?”
“He—she—” Link spat out, his chest about to burst, trying desperately to hold the words in but unable to do so. He wasn’t sure this was appropriate to share, but by the goddesses he needed to say something. “He’s just like Zelda.”
The words flew out of his mouth like an arrow released from a bow, and he nearly collapsed onto the nearest bench, overwhelmed and exhausted at holding it in for so long, at the sheer relief that nearly drowned him and screamed he doesn’t actually hate me. Mipha slowly sat beside him, watching him hesitantly. He shook his head, leaning over until his face was buried in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Well…” Mipha said slowly. “You… could start by telling me what you mean.”
Oh. He supposed she needed context.
“The Hero,” he started slowly. “He… feels bad about himself. Like… like the princess. But he… and Hylia… he made… she’s crying, and I…”
Mipha jumped a little. “Hylia’s crying?”
“I don’t know what to do,” Link shook his head. “Mipha, what am I supposed to do?”
“Why is she crying?” Mipha asked.
“She—he—” Link stopped himself and took a breath to reorganize his thoughts. “The Hero. He… he got upset. Really upset. Like… remember when I… when I mentioned… I mean, you kind of dragged it out of me, but…”
Mipha, bless her, remained patient, knowing how Link could struggle to express himself. He’d barely spoken to anyone these last few months, but he’d finally started opening back up to his friend, even if it was just a little. She was the only one who knew that Zelda had yelled at Link in their first weeks together, although the other Champions had clearly sensed the tension.
“He got angry at her,” Link explained slowly. “He got angry. He’s… he said he was a failure, that he wasn’t worthy of being the Hero of Legend. Mipha, it’s… he sounded just like Zelda. But he… he got angry at Hylia about it, and now she’s crying.”
“Oh, my,” Mipha said softly, hand over her mouth. “I… didn’t realize a goddess could cry. That’s… awful.”
“It is awful,” Link agreed, the words spilling out of him now as his emotions mixed with them. “Mipha, what do I do? How do you cheer up a goddess?”
His friend was quiet for a long time, ruminating the matter. “Well… I suppose the same way you cheer anyone up. She cries just like the rest of us… perhaps she just needs kindness like the rest of us too.”
Link thought about the words, remembering all the rituals they did for the goddess. But then he remembered once, when he was very little, when he’d offered flowers to the goddess statue in Hateno, to the warmth that had filled his heart and soul when he’d done so, to the smile that always pulled at his lips whenever he saw silent princesses ever since.
Silent Princess. Zelda’s favorite flower. It always put a smile on the princess’ face too.
Link’s eyes lingered on the one garden that had tried to cultivate the flower, the only one that had succeeded so far, though herbalists hardly called it a success as only one or two flowers grew from the entire batch, and one was wilting already.
Filled with relief and hope, Link dragged Mipha into a hug. “Thank you.”
His friend was stiff under his embrace, and he felt her heart fluttering against his chest. Suddenly, the embrace felt too intimate, too personal, too close, and Link felt his own cheeks blush as he quickly pulled away. Before either party could speak, he hastily made his way to the flower bed, fingers reaching for the healthier of the two specimens.
“Link, wait, isn’t that endangered—”
The silent princess yielded easily to his fingers as he pointedly ignored how the tips of his ears burned, but as he reoriented to his original excitement, he stared at the beautiful, delicate blue-and-white petals with determination.
He turned and smiled at Mipha, nodding in gratitude, before rushing back to the guard house. By the time he reached the top, Hylia’s sobs had evened out, though she was still crumped on the ground. Zelda was on the floor beside her, arm halfway across her shoulders in a hesitant but heartfelt hug. Link took a steadying breath and walked towards the pair, kneeling in front of them. When the two looked up at him, he offered the flower quietly, eyes trying to convey everything his mouth refused to speak.
Hylia stared at him a moment before her gaze lingered on the flower. She reached out slowly, carefully taking the plant from his grasp and turning it in her own calloused fingers.
Her eyes watered, but a smile pulled at her trembling lips. The heaviness of the air seemed to dissipate, and Link smiled back at her.
“It’ll be all right,” he finally said softly.
“We’re here for you,” Zelda added on, growing bolder. “Just as you are for us, Your Grace. I… I may not… I may not have my powers, but I…”
The princess sighed shakily and continued, “I will still do my duty, and I will support you just as you’re trying to do for us.”
Hylia let out another sob, brow pulling together, but the way her face glowed, the way her cheeks puffed and lips pulled conveyed it for the emotional, relieved laugh that it was.
XXX
Abel supposed it was time to break protocol.
He ignored the anxious words warding him away from his goal as he walked down the stone path towards the city. He could practically hear the drill sergeants from his youth telling him to listen to superiors at all costs, to respect those in charge, to fulfill his duty and never question those above his station.
He could hear his heart telling him to do otherwise, his mind set in stone in his path, his beloved wife encouraging him to keep walking forward.
The Hero of Myth and Legend sat on the wall dividing the castle from Castle Town. Abel leaned against the stone beside him, staring out as the sun began to descend from its zenith.
The Hero glanced at him, startled, and moved to get up, but Abel ordered immediately, “Stay put.”
Oh, how his decades of training balked at ordering such a figure around. But mostly, it felt familiar, like when he was talking to his son. Perhaps the fact that they shared a name and a destiny helped.
The Hero slowly resumed his previous posture, bolstering Abel’s confidence on the matter. Now the captain of the guard just had to figure out what to say.
He’d honestly tried not to listen to the conversations in the guard tower. It wasn’t his business – his son, the princess, the goddess, and the mythical hero were all far above him in importance. Although he would always cherish Link, he respected the role his boy had to play, and he wasn’t going to interfere or be so immature as to eavesdrop on important discussions.
It was hard not to hear it, though, when the Immortal Hero was shouting.
Words of a curse, of a demon king, of blame and failure and guilt – they’d all spilled down into Abel’s ears as easily as rain. And it was hard to get them out of his head once heard.
Abel once again found himself wondering what the benefit was in having heroes so young. He still had plenty of strength and endurance in him at the ripe age of thirty-seven, and he didn’t have the emotional issues he’d had when hew as a teenager. Experience was as good a weapon as any.
Not to mention it assisted in cutting through drama and getting to the heart of the matter.
Of course, it still didn’t prepare Abel for such a conversation. It hadn’t prepared him for any of the conversations he’d had with his son once Hyrule had noticed a Hero had arisen. The words the Hero had hissed rang in his ears once more, thoughts of demon kings hunting down his son buzzing before he pushed them away. His son had been preparing for years had the support of all of Hyrule, and Abel would double his efforts in protecting the castle. This one, on the other hand, was a soldier in an eternal war, and Abel and even Link were simply another battlefield on which he had to fight. It seemed he was only just realizing that too, which was... odd and... heartbreaking.
He really had no frame of reference for this person, young and ancient, magical and so unbelievably normal. But he could speak to what he’d seen, and… he dearly hoped it was enough. He hoped it was enough and would be taken in the right spirit. The fact that the—the boy had listened was a promising start, after all.
“I don’t understand what it could possibly be like, being created by the goddess Hylia for the sole purpose of fighting off a demon king,” Abel started honestly, bluntly. “You look as Hylian as anyone else.”
The Ancient One glanced at him, tired and hurting and confused all at once. “I… I don’t know what that is.”
He didn’t know what a Hylian was? Abel supposed he wouldn’t. He was created to fight. Yet he was just like any other teenager. It still made no sense to the captain, but… a boy was a boy. Abel motioned towards the boy’s ears, small and curved like leaves, unique and honestly a little cute. It had always been said that Hylians’ ears were the way they were to better help them hear the goddess – perhaps his were shaped so differently so only he could hear her whispers, so only he could be privileged to her song. It… honestly made Abel’s skin crawl a little. He wished the Hero didn’t look so young – the thought of a child being molded to fight and married off to the goddess… it felt…
Abel didn’t dare say the sacrilegious word, but the ill feeling in his stomach lingered nonetheless. He tried to remind himself that this strange figure was ancient and not actually a teenager, even if he seemed to act like one.
“Your ears,” he commented. “They’re as Hylian as anyone else’s.”
The Hero instinctively reached up to touch his own ears, staring at Abel with wide, genuinely curious eyes now. The traces of guilt and sorrow were fading away in wake of his bemusement, and in that moment he really, truly looked like a kid.
Abel swallowed, trying to get to his point. “You’re… different, perhaps, but you still seem pretty Hylian to me, if you’ll pardon my ignorance on the matter. And if that is the case… then it seems such pressure that you’re putting on yourself is unrealistic.”
Hylia’s Chosen stiffened, though he didn’t comment.
“Calamity Ganon is a scourge that has plagued this land for millennia,” Abel said carefully. “And each time it has come, it has taken all of Hyrule to fight it. Though the Spirit of the Hero and the power of the Goddess are required to vanquish it, they have never fought alone. It seems… unreasonable to expect any different of yourself.”
The Hero bit his lip, his hands falling to his lap as he looked down. “But I was supposed to.”
“Did you defeat him?” Abel asked.
The Hero glanced at him, and though he held guilt in his gaze, he nodded.
“So you defeated him alone, which no one has ever accomplished before or since then,” Abel pointed out. “Yet you blame yourself for his return? If you fought him before and won, this should be easy, should it not?”
“But I—”
“But what?” Abel pressed on. “You can’t change that he’s here. Only that you’re here to stop him. Are you going to fight him or not?”
The Hero stared at him for a long while, eyes growing weary. Abel recognized the look, the exhaustion of war, the scars hidden within. He faced the boy fully.
“You won’t be alone this time,” he told him firmly. “Link will fight alongside you, as well as all the Champions, the guardians, and Hyrule’s army.”
“Sounds rather like I’m not needed,” the Hero said softly, a sad smile pulling at his lips.
“I am not one to waste resources,” Abel replied perhaps a bit too curtly, but he was tired of the adolescent’s moping. This was what the ancient child had been created for, after all, was it not? “You defeated Calamity Ganon long before any army ever could be raised against him. If you fight alongside our forces, if you support Link, then it makes the likelihood of actually killing it all the higher.”
Hylia’s Chosen perked up at the idea given to him, though he still looked a bit uncertain.
“Will you fight alongside Link?” Abel prompted. “Will you help him? Or are you going to drown in your sorrows instead while the rest of Hyrule tries to fight?”
“I’m the only one who can,” the Hero muttered, eyes darkening once more, shoulders set in resignation. “That’s what he said. That’s… what they always say. It’s my destiny.”
Abel waited, unsure what to say to such a remark. The ancient one’s words held a pain and exhaustion to them, but also a bite, and the captain of the guard was suddenly reminded that he was a nobody speaking to a legend.
The Hero of Myth and Legend stared out at Hyrule, sitting up straighter. “I won’t let him destroy this place. I won’t let him hurt Link, or Zelda. Or the princess. I promise.”
“I thank you for your protection,” Abel said genuinely with a bow of his head, catching the Hero’s attention.
“But I…” the Hero continued hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have said what I did. She’s… I know I upset her.”
Abel hadn’t heard Hylia’s reply to any of the words the Hero had said, but he supposed accusing her of being wrong would be upsetting. She seemed too kind to get angry, though, and the hurt on the magical boy’s face implied it as well.
Well. This was certainly a topic he could relate to. He was rather short tempered compared to others, after all. “We’re not perfect, Hero. We will say things that hurt those we love. What matters is that we apologize for them.”
Hylia’s Chosen watched him with a look so eerily similar to Link’s own when his son had been younger—so eager for wisdom from his father, so desperate for guidance—that it almost made Abel falter. Then the boy sighed and nodded in agreement.
Abel smiled as best he could. “Now, I believe Her Grace is waiting for you, great Hero. And if I may be so bold as to say… as a married man, I advise you be quick – our wives don’t like to wait for long.”
The smile that broke out on the Hero’s face was unexpectedly soft and sweet, his eyes glittering as if he was coming back to life, and the Immortal One leapt off the wall, much to Abel’s shock. The captain reached out hastily before seeing the Hero deploy some sort of paraglider, and he sighed heavily, realizing that now he had yet another hero who was going to give him heart attacks on a regular basis.
Oh, how he wished he could hold his son in that moment. But duty called, and he had strayed from it for long enough.
XXX
Admittedly, despite how his heart warmed at the thought of being with Zelda again, Link felt guilt crushing him the closer he got back to the structure he’d run from.
He knew what he’d said was hurtful. He’d chosen his words very particularly so that they would sting. He hadn’t wanted Zelda’s reassurances because he’d known they’d be empty, and suddenly hurt and resentment that had been long forgotten and shoved into the dark recesses of his mind had snarled into the light.
Link was ashamed to even get near his beloved. But he’d be damned if he didn’t own up to it.
And he missed her. He missed her smile, he missed her warmth, he missed her embrace. He was drowning and he wanted nothing more than to hold on to her. He supposed after what he’d said earlier it was a selfish thought at this point, but… if there was one constant in his life, no matter the storm, it had always been her.
He wasn’t going to be the one to lose her again. He wasn’t going to be the one to push her away.
The walk felt like it took an eternity, even though it was only a few minutes. Link hesitantly stared at the ladder leading up to the top, and then he climbed it, steeling himself.
When he got to the top, he found only a couple guards.
Link didn’t bother to speak with them, sliding down once more, and nearly jumped out of his skin as he was met with one of the stranger looking people from the festival. Their skin was red and shimmering, eyes nearly the same shade of amber as the crystal that had held Zelda in a trance for millennia. Their fingers were delicate but held sharp claws, and a blue sash was the only clothing they wore, though their body was adorned in glimmering jewelry.
“Hello, Hero,” the person said in a soft, feminine tone.
Wait, he’d seen her before. She had been sparring with the new Hero that morning.
“Do you—do you know where Zelda is?” he asked quickly, nearly laughing at the irony of such a question given his history with it.
“The princess is with Her Grace and Sir Link,” the woman answered. “They decided to head out into Hyrule Field, I believe. They were going to pick up lunch on the way.”
Hyrule Field? “Where’s that?”
The woman pointed back to the direction where he’d just come from. “It’s just beyond Castle Town. If I were them, I would go to the Sacred Grounds. It’s a pleasant place for a picnic. It’s close to the center of Hyrule Field, you can’t miss it. Would you… like me to take you there?”
Out of a nearly gone habit, Link nearly said no, as if he would find it on his map and could dowse for Zelda beyond that. Goddess. He shook his head, and then hastily said, “Yes, please.”
The strange looking woman—girl? Woman??—smiled and asked him to walk with her. Link tried to ignore the people staring at them as they progressed, feeling the number of eyes on them grow as they entered the big town he and Zelda had explored a few nights ago.
The joy of that exploration felt so far away now. He felt so empty, so unbelievably alone. But the guard had promised he wasn’t, and he…
He just wanted to go home. But it was just like his original journey, wasn’t it? He hadn’t wanted the weight of the world on his shoulders then. He’d just wanted to find Zelda. Headmaster Gaepora had said that the destiny of the world was his to bear, and his alone. No one could know.
Just as now, it was his destiny to fight Demise once more. But… the guard had said it himself.
Link wasn’t alone. Even if he deserved to be, after somehow managing to mess this up.
He would be alone if he continued to push everyone away, though, and he knew it. He remembered just after the world had nearly ended, remembered how isolated he was, and how Zelda had been the only one who could reach him in those dark moments.
Link hardly noticed that they’d reached the fields, hardly noticed that the woman he was with kept glancing at him to make sure he was okay. She seemed to understand he didn’t want to talk and was somehow blessedly fine with it, making the occasional remark about the weather or anything else to ensure it didn’t get too awkwardly quiet.
The awkwardness did linger, though, when Link realized he didn’t know her name. When she stopped and pointed straight ahead, he said, “Thank you… I… didn’t get your name.”
The woman’s eyes widened, suddenly embarrassed. “O-oh! I’m—I’m so very sorry, I—my name is Mipha, Princess of the Zora. I beg your pardon for my lack of manners!”
Another princess? Link stared at her, curious, but then smiled. “Thank you, Mipha.”
The woman’s shame faded, and she nodded, heading back towards Castle Town. Link took a fortifying breath and walked towards the Sacred Grounds. The trees hid some of the area and his approach, allowing him to see the new Hero sitting on the ground alongside Zellie and his wife. His successor was eating away cheerily, garnering a chuckle from Zellie, and Zelda… picked at her food quietly. She smiled when acknowledged, but didn’t seem to have much of an appetite.
Link wanted to kick himself. He also kind of wished the other two weren’t there.
Miraculously, Zelda alone seemed to notice his approach. She paused from holding her food, watching him with a little trepidation. Her eyebrows wrinkled together, and the hurt and worry on her face made Link want to melt into the earth. Zellie seemed to notice something was up, but before she could speak, Zelda rose and walked slowly in his direction.
She paused just out of his reach, and the pair watched each other quietly. A wind stirred between them, trying to push Link away, and he nearly gave in to it, shaking like a leaf.
“Link…?” Zelda called quietly, almost timidly.
Link wasn’t sure if it was the stress of everything catching up to him again, or if it was the way his own wife was scared to approach him as if he were shatter or explode on her… all he knew was that he was crying.
“I’m sorry,” he immediately said, shaking his head, taking a frightened step away. “I’m sorry, Zelda, I’m sorry I’m sorry—”
Zelda’s eyes widened, and she immediately covered the ground between them, nearly tackling him in a hug, carrying him with strong but trembling arms, easing him down to the earth as the world spun around him. He couldn’t get anything else out aside from apologies that stumbled over each other, words only stopping when he hiccupped or gasped for air, his tears endlessly staining her shoulder.
“It’s okay,” she soothed, tightening her hug.
“No it’s not!” Link sobbed. “None of it is, I’m so sorry, I’m—”
Again and again the apologies came forth until he’d exhausted himself, until he found himself clinging to her with as much desperation as he had when she’d awoken from her trance months ago.
He heard Zelda take a shaky breath, her exhale tickling his ear. “I am too.”
The words were raw, the sentiment so genuine it ached. Link didn’t have the emotional energy to reply, couldn’t defend her after trying so many times to reassure her and then eating his own words due to his outburst. He had nothing left to offer except himself, broken and worthless and idiotic as he was, and he just held her all the more.
The sun shone brightly on the pair as the other two slowly rose and watched in silence.
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rhaenyradelights · 2 years
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“rhaenyra doesn’t care about being a good queen and only cares about power” honey. nobody on this whole entire show cares about being a Good Monarch, they’re all taking their various poisons and doing what they think is best for the realm according to that system, which is rotted. rhaenyra has been inundated with blood purity targaryen prophecy propaganda since she was born, why would she worry about being a Good Queen when sitting on the iron throne is not only her birthright by blood, but is the thing that will save the entire world from destruction. alicent doesn’t worry about being a Good Queen, she’s there because she was sacrificed on the altar of family progress and in order to make her life worthwhile she must continue her line and perform womanhood and obsequence better than it has ever been performed, otherwise her life will have been a series of small deaths with no purpose. both of these women have been manipulated and pointed in particular directions by the structures around them, and now a blade of valyrian steel has freed them and brought their desires to the forefront. rhaenyra sees the flames and the walls of her cage and decides, literally, to hell with it. if i’m going to burn then you all are going to burn with me, and in the meantime i am going to become as powerful as i can be, so that i can resuscitate this dying dynasty through power of will alone. alicent draws blood and recognizes there is no hiding behind virtue and capitulation, but maybe she can turn that virtue into a weapon that can allow her to exercise her will with more force and more righteousness than before. they are both advancing causes that are not Real or Good or Necessary, and have zero to do with Being a Good Ruler. they’re trapped in mutual prisons of fate and power and the only choice they have is how they’re going to destruct. it’s not about who sits on the throne it’s about the inevitable moral and physical decay of those who thirst for power, no matter the divine reasoning they have. 
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bluberimufim · 5 months
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It's crying about Carmen Bizêtoperacharacter hours, everyone 💃💃
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ragnarokhound · 5 months
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"reading under the red hood and it's pretty good i think" - jason todd fan who has only seen the cartoon adaptation of under the red hood
#getting my hands on the comic for utrh is cracking my entire brain open about werewolf fic like you don't understand#the cartoon movie was pretty tight but the comic is more robust. and yall the themes for werewolf fic...they're all coming together#now if only i could write the girls fighting FR I'M TOO SOFT YOU GUYS OTL#i'm just feeling insane over the first confrontation with bruce and how Jason tells him that 'gotham is evil'#and 'you have to fight her where she lives' and 'i live there' LIKE#it's only fueling my crazed impression that the end to Jason's philosophy has only two ends#when he's done what he's set out to do and rid the world of evil by cutting it out (which is futile; blind and toothless etc but details)#either: he changes his philosophy and becomes the very type of villain he hates or he dies himself. because he also deserves death#'i live there' ARE YOU KIDDING ME???#sorry if this is Not News to people or if Jason has had some serious growth vis a vis this entire mindset but like.#I'M INSANE ABOUT IT. I'M CHEWING ON IT FOREVER#and bruce is the wrong person to try to sway Jason off this path. theres way too much baggage too much history too many complicated feeling#but...tim...? >.>#tim i think has enough 'this is not my philosophy this is company policy and i'm the worlds okayest employee' energy to eventually do it#like obviously stuff would need to Happen for it to be possible lol but you guys. this is what made jaytim so tasty to me in the first plac#tim being capable of meeting jason halfway like bruce can't; tim being able to hold the conversation with jason without it collapsing#tim having rebuttals to jason's arguments that might actually get somewhere with him eventually...#i'm not saying it would be fast or easy or even make sense in canon lmao but think there's a lot of fic potential there owo#like tim's vicious streak is something jason would appreciate. :3c#local jaytim fic author rambles about jaytim in the tags once again more at eleven lol anyway#jason todd#dc
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wonder-worker · 23 days
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Friendly reminder that Francesco Coppino and Prospero di Camulio, contemporaries who were literally getting their information from predominantly Yorkist circles, were both explicitly clear that it was Henry VI who decided to surrender Berwick to Scotland.
Camulio: "King Henry has given away a castle [town] called Berwick, which is one of the keys of the frontier between England and Scotland." Coppino: "[Scotland has] received from the same Henry the town of Berwick, on the frontiers of Scotland, which the Scots have long claimed as their right from the English, as the excellently well furnished guardian of their frontiers, and the place to which King Henry repaired as an asylum after the battle."
The idea that Margaret of Anjou was principally involved in the surrender, or that she was the one who actually made the decision, is based on nothing but assumption. Two direct contemporaries, both speaking of ongoing events as they unfolded, who were both getting information from Yorkist-held England, both clearly believed it was Henry who was responsible for this course of action. Neither of them mention Margaret. Sure, you can argue that it was merely rhetorical, and that they were simply automatically attributing such an important decision to the King rather than the queen - but rhetoric is nonetheless extremely important and helps us understand how historical figures were perceived at the time. Margaret's enemies would surely not have hesitated to broadcast her involvement had it actually been true, and Coppino in particular had shown no qualms about criticizing her in favor of the Yorkists before. If she was genuinely believed to have been responsible, and if the Yorkists were actually claiming that she was at the time, I see no reason why Coppino or Camulio would not have emphasized her role in their letters. What these samples instead indicate is literally the opposite: that their contemporaries - probably including the Yorkists who were putting out the information that Coppino and Camulio reported - actually believed that Henry was the one making the decision. I think it's a very large and very unnecessary stretch to go against actual evidence and claim otherwise by placing the responsibility on Margaret instead.
Additionally, these small samples may also reveal what people at the time - once again including the Yorkists - actually thought of Henry's role in the war on a broader level, away from direct Yorkist propaganda which would obviously and perhaps understandably seek to de-emphasize it: namely, that Henry was perceived as the one making decisions and deciding the courses of action for his own side.
Source: Excerpts from the Calendar of State Papers and Manuscripts, Existing in the Archives and Collections of Milan
#henry vi#margaret of anjou#english history#my post#I want to make a longer post detailing the clear indications we have that Henry *was* perceived as the active decision maker of his side#which indicates that contemporaries did not really think that there was some kind of giant 'role-reversal' between him and MoA#but until then the gist is:#after Henry was rescued in 1461 contemporary letters clearly emphasize his own actions; they mostly did not attribute decisions to Margaret#we also know he and Margaret separated when she headed off to the continent;#that he seems to have been involved in border-raids against Yorkist England;#*and* that he avoided capture until 1465#if Henry was entirely passive throughout it all and entirely dependent on Margaret to make decisions#I do not understand how any of this would have been possible#Instead Henry & Margaret seemed to have had more of a partnership with Margaret focusing on gaining international support#which she was very well-suited for given her powerful foreign connections#& with her taking on leadership in his absence (mainly due to imprisonment/incapacity) rather than all the time/when they were together#and like I said when it comes to Berwick contemporaries clearly believed it was Henry's decision#but also like. let's hypothetically assume that Margaret was the driving force behind it. please think of this situation logically.#whoever's idea it was Scotland was very obviously going to want a proper confirmation from the *king*#who was. yk. the actual authority of the country#even if Margaret was the one encouraging this surrender Henry's approval and agreement would have still been required#if not by the Lancastrian party then by Scotland#and again this is assuming that Margaret was actually the driving force behind it. there's no indication that she was#but ultimately contemporaries very clearly believed *Henry* was responsible#we don't know what MoA actually thought of it or what her actual involvement was (she could may encouraged it; she may have misliked it;#she may have simply been told after the decision had already been made)#but ultimately even in the most extreme case - which is contradicted by actual evidence - the final say would have been Henry's#it would be nice if this was reflected by historians?
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godofsmallthings · 10 months
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my speak now tv vault track/overall impressions are under the cut if anyone wants to read! wrote these right after listening for the first time :) they got long (a girl has a lot of feelings about speak now! who would've thought)
• electric touch!!!!!!! this is such a cute song omfg. i love the way she writes about love as fire so much (and i think it's interesting considering another common motif she uses is love as a religion...hm. anyway.) if i had to guess when this was written it would've been closer to the beginning of the process bc fearless taylor's sensibilities come through a lot. i can see why they cut it bc it's so similar to sparks fly in concept. i LOVE THE FOB FEATURE.
• when emma falls in love: "little miss sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain" & other incredible one liners!!!!!! OH MY GOD THE BRIDGE. I KNEW I WAS GOING TO LOVE THIS ONE. i understand why they cut this one bc it's not explicitly personal until the bridge and it is speak now after all. even though i think "when emma falls in love i'm learning" (or whatever it is) is a bit of a clumsy lyric, the sentiment is soooooooo dhsksjshdhjdbd. like of course she was looking to her friends and being envious of their relationships going well based on what she was experiencing. it's a beautiful companion piece to btr and little speak now honestly, and i think the themes of comparing yourself to other women on this album are super interesting and relatable.
• i can see you: OMFG DHSGSJDGSJHDKSHSKVDJD UP AGAINST A WALL WITH ME?????? I LOVE HER THIS IS SO FUNNY AND SO FUCKING GOOD WTF. obviously we all know why they cut this. the professional business vibe is so funny like girl why do u want a business man. unfortunately my brain went straight to emily poe bc the gaylor pathways run deep. where was this song 4 months ago. ANYWAY. i'm so glad she let this one bejeweled bc horny teenager music is kind of unmatched. i love her for this.
• castles crumbling: okay nothing new precursor!!! i have a feeling this will be a grower for me. the arrangement/production reminds me of an overly cheesy song that would play during the credits/climactic moment montage during a movie? idk. idk how i feel about it but it certainly is in line with the sound of the rest of the album (haunted, long live). i can't quite tell if she's writing about hypotheticals or if this is stuff she already experienced. the "power went to my head" is so interesting because like. bbygirl u were a kid of course it was going to do that. idk. i thought the second verse was stronger. i think the castles crumbling imagery as an explicit ending to the fairytale themes coming from fearless is a little too on the nose. least fave so far but could def grow on me.
• foolish one: this is SO CUTE. i love this one so much. i'm convinced that the last chorus at the end (her lower register sounds soooooo good there but we all knew that) was something she added retroactively. it feels like present her talking to younger her which is so sweet (but also 😵‍💫). an excellent more realistic thematic companion to little speak now i think. she's so good at these sweet upbeat countryish songs and i will happily take them every time. (edit: "you are not the exception" is a "the only exception" reference, no?)
• timeless: IT'S NOT A TAYLOR ALBUM WITHOUT AN OUR LOVE IS FATE SONG!!!!!! the historical fiction nerd in me is obsessed with this one. THE ROMEO AND JULIET/LOVE STORY CALLBACK IN THE SECOND VERSE??????? OKAY LITERARY GENIUS. the instrumentation is so lush and perfect and the subtle horns are soooooooo nice. it might be recency bias but i think this is my favorite one.
overall I thought it was really interesting to see which songs she cut and how two of them were seemingly because they were too "explicit" in some ways. let baby taylor be horny on main!!!!!!!!! it's really interesting to compare castles crumbling to long live and see how those fears about fame turning sour for her were already very present. it gives more context to the long live bridge imo. overall none of these have like recontextualized the album for me in the way the red vault did (or feel like they were touching on missing pieces of the story ig) but they definitely added some more color to certain themes. i am trying to not think about how i can see you could easily be about jm. overall i'm happy with the speak now album we got but i'm obvs also very glad to have these songs <3
INNOCENT IS COMPLETELY PERFECT. SOOOOO GOOD.
i always forget how much i love country taylor <3
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