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#are the opposite of each other according to the same sever

writingdotcoffee · 6 months

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The "Alt" NaNoWriMo Challenge

I'm a big fan of NaNoWriMo and the energy the event breathes into the writing community. Hundreds of thousands of people start working on their novels at the same time. Lots of people share their progress and cheer each other on. Several now-famous authors have started their best-selling novels during NaNo over the years.

That said, it's not for everyone. Writing 50,000 words per month is a serious commitment. Doing it alongside school or work is no joke. In fact, most people who sign up don't finish. According to these stats, only 1-2 out of every 10 participants complete the challenge.

I've never joined NaNoWriMo myself. I'm a slow writer, and I know that I would burn out. Instead, I set a different writing-related challenge for myself every November.

In 2018, I started reading one short story every day. It turned into a regular habit, and I ended up reading hundreds of short stories over the following few months.

Last year, I wanted to build a 30-day writing streak. In the end, I wrote for 232 days in a row. 2023 became the most productive year of my writing life by far with over 250,000 words written.

This year, I will be doing something similar, and I want to invite you to come along for the ride.

The Idea of "AltNaNo"

The idea of finishing a novel in a month seems outrageous to most people. That's what makes it so compelling. It's like standing at the foot of a snowcapped mountain with a rope and a couple of ice picks. The challenge itself is inspiring.

The AltNaNo challenge is the exact opposite. The goal is as small as possible on purpose. The focus isn't to achieve this massive feat but to squash all excuses and merely start writing.

You may not be able to write 50,000 words in a month. But almost everyone can find 15 minutes to write every day.

The Challenge

The goal is simple: Write for at least 15 minutes every day in November.

Writing 100 words and calling it a day after 15 minutes is a success.

Spending longer and writing 500 words is a success.

Wrestling with a difficult scene for 15 minutes and writing only a single sentence is a success.

Spending 15 minutes trying to write after a long day and not producing a single word is a success, too.

Be a tortoise. We all know how the story goes.

How to Join

I've set up daily challenges for the first week in Writing Analytics, if you wanted to join us there:

Day 1/30 ✅

Day 2/30 ✅

Day 3/30 ✅

Day 4/30 ✅

Day 5/30 ✅

Day 6/30 ✅

Day 7/30 ✅

I'll be posting daily updates on the blog as well.

PS: If you'd like to learn more about developing a writing habit, check out this free course I launched a few weeks ago.

#writing #writers #write #amwriting #writing advice #writing life #writing tips #writeblr #writing challenge #altnano

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rin-fukuroi · 4 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐬 [𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐮𝐚𝐧]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Jing Yuan x fem!reader

Warnings: just cute fluff

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Taemin - Pretty boy

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

Maybe the new year is already over, but it's never too late to just feel the warm and loving and caring atmosphere of the holiday

— Well, well, don't be naughty, I'm almost done! — you playfully scratch behind your big soft ear.

Mimi has been spinning around underfoot for several minutes, poking his big nose at your dangling heel in the air. No wonder, because his owner hasn't been home for several days, he misses him as much as you do. It's a pity that you can't explain to him that everything is fine, it's just that someone decided to postpone all work until the end of the year, so Mrs. Fu Xuan now doesn't let the General out of the office until there is not a single scroll left on his desk. Harsh, but Jing Yuan deserved it.

In any case, this is a good opportunity to finish the gift that you have been hiding with extreme care from your curious husband for several months. Let the General not appear at home as often as you would like, this man is as clingy as a person can imagine. Are you cooking something? He'll happily steal a couple of slices of vegetables from the chopping board and put his arm around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder until you shoo him to the table. Are you reading? It's time to take a nap on your lap — the softest and most comfortable pillow according to General Lofu Xianzhou. Going to bed? Great, he's just tired and will gladly squeeze you in his warm, almost suffocating embrace. And it's incredibly sweet, but not when there were only a few days left before the New Year so that you could finish his gift.

Leo raises his head with some puzzlement, watching you vigorously weave thick threads with knitting needles, periodically leaning back in an armchair opposite the fireplace to evaluate the preliminary result of your painstaking work. You're really bad at needlework. If someone had told you a few years ago that you would be sitting and knitting with a serious look, you would have laughed a lot at the person who voiced such a funny joke. The desire to step over yourself, learn something new, become better for another person is also part of the relationship that you got involved in as unexpectedly as you decided to make a gift with your own hands.

The firewood crackles softly in the fireplace, and the dancing flames cast a soft shadow on the carpet under your feet and a half-asleep Mimi threatening to crush your ankle when the lion settles his huge fluffy head on it. The same atmosphere, the same warmth and the same thrill as the day when Jing Yuan proposed to you so simply and casually in this very place. You've always been like this. Carefree, just enjoying each other's company. Perhaps, from the outside, your banter with each other, lightness and carelessness are seen by others as the relationship of two good friends, but isn't that the whole point? You always think that Jing Yuan is really your closest and irreplaceable friend, with a smile on your lips, inexpressibly happy that you are so lucky to have him.

Therefore, even what you are doing clumsily now, snorting irritably under your breath when the drawing slides to the side and the threads get tangled in your hands, in some way brings you pleasure. It is unlikely that Jing Yuan will wear this, as there is an extremely low probability that you will take up knitting needles again, but you pass all those warm feelings that have been lurking in your heart all these years through your fingers holding metal sticks in your hands in the hope that the General will be able to feel them on his own body.

— Oh, well, your owner will owe me when I give him this gift, — you chuckle softly, glancing at the lion, whose ear twitches as soon as it catches the sound of your voice.

A soft sigh leaves your chest as you lean back in your chair, reaching for a mug of cocoa with tiny marshmallows on the coffee table. The hot sweetness spreads in your mouth, and you calm down a little, once again looking at the sweater on your lap.

— Do you think it doesn't look too lame? — you "try on" a sweater by applying it to your chest, and you meet Mimi's sleepy gaze, snorting softly before turning away in the opposite direction from you. — Is it that bad?!

— What's wrong, dear? — the heavy weight of Jing Yuan's body abruptly falls on your shoulders, making you shudder when he suddenly sneaks up from behind, wrapping his big hands around your shoulders.

Mimi instantly takes her head off your leg and happily wags her tail, like a dog waiting for its owner. Perhaps Jing Yuan was right in calling him his pet cat.

— Aeons, you're going to give me a heart attack! — you put your hand to your chest in fright before realizing that the sweater you tied is still pressed against it, and you hurriedly crumple it up, stuffing it under your side. — Have you finished your work yet?

— Mmm, not really,— the General almost purrs, burying his nose in the curve of your neck.

— Not really?

— Aren't you glad to see me at all? It would be a shame to celebrate the New Year separately.

You roll your eyes, but gently wrap your arms around your husband's forearm, sighing in resignation.

— Okay, I'll set the table now.

You are about to get out of the warm embrace of Jing Yuan, when Mimi stops you, insistently poking his nose into your thigh, under which lies what you have been hiding from your husband for so long.

— What is it, Mimi? Did you find something? — The General's hands are leaving your shoulders, and you can almost feel cold sweat rolling down your forehead.

Jing Yuan strokes the lion's head, but he completely ignores the owner's touch, continuing to snort and try to seep between your hip and the chair.

— Y/N, are you hiding something from me? — The General squints, smiling playfully and leaning towards your face.

— N-no! I guess I just spilled some cocoa… HEY! — you scream when your husband silently crouches, grabbing your legs and throwing you over his shoulder. You squirm, frantically slapping him on the back when you feel Jing Yuan leaning into the chair. — STOP! Let me go, there's nothing interesting there!

— Really? Then why did you hide it? — The General chuckles softly, and you drop your hands in despair, noticing the sneaky lion sitting behind his master and wagging his tail contentedly. — This is…

— It's not finished yet, — you mutter unhappily, propping your chin with your fist behind your husband's back.

Jing Yuan gently holds you with one hand, with the other unfolding a soft sweater over the seat of the chair. The red threads are intertwined in neat chains, and in the center of the gift there is an embroidered lion, slightly uneven, but seemingly insanely charming to the General.

— Is that Mimi?

— Y-yes… Or what should have been him.

The man gently puts you down on the floor, and you awkwardly look away, feeling embarrassment tingle your cheeks.

— It looks ready, can I try it on?

— I told you… — you started to speak, but stopped, noticing with what trepidation Jing Yuan lifts the sweater from the chair, leaning it against his muscular chest. — Oh… All that remains is to cut the thread.

You take scissors from the table, carefully cutting the red thread, and take the sweater from Jing Yuan's hands while he hurriedly throws off his uniform, presenting himself half naked in front of you and forcing you to frantically squeeze your gift in your hand, checking whether it is too prickly to put it on a bare body.

— Y/N, — Jing Yuan smiles, holding out his hands.

— Okay, okay… — you sigh, finally giving the sweater back.

Your husband carefully pulls on his sweater, smoothing out the bound image of Mimi on his chest. He looks so happy when he looks at the thing that is bound with your own hands, and he can almost feel how your love, care and efforts are woven into these soft threads to see a smile on his face.

— Why only Mimi?" Where is my beloved wife? — The General grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to his warm body.

— A sweater with me wouldn't be so cute, — you giggle, burrowing into Jing Yuan's chest. So softly.

— Who told you that? — your husband's fingertips are placed under your chin, forcing you to look at him. — You are the sweetest woman in the world.

The man's amber eyes sparkle in the soft light of the fireplace, and you can't help but smile, rising on tiptoe to leave a short kiss on the General's cheek.

— Flatterer, do you think this will save you from being punished for ruining the whole surprise?

— I hope so, — The General rubs the tip of his nose against yours, loosely closing his eyes and pressing you closer to his body. — Thank you, my love.

P.S. Mimi's credibility was undermined after this incident!

#headcanons #hsr #hsr x reader #honkai:star rail #honkai:star rail x reader #hsr drabbles #jing yuan #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan fluff #fluff #happy new year

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anotherhumaninthisworld · 3 months

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Frev friendships — Fouché and the Robespierre siblings

A circumstance relating to one of the most important crises of my life must here be mentioned. By a singular chance, I had been acquainted with Maximilian Robespierre, at the time I was professor of philosophy in the town of Arras, and had even lent him money, to enable him to take up his abode in Paris, when he was appointed deputy to the National Assembly. Memoirs of Fouché (1825), volume 1, page 12. Fouché first arrived in Arras in 1788.

Robespierre didn’t like science, but he thought it useful for his vanity to research Fouché and to annoy him several hours per day in his office in order to acquire the reputation of scholar. Often, in order to appear intelligent, he interrupted his physics demonstrations to reproach him for being a materialist. Note written by Barère, probably shortly after thermidor. Cited in Fouché: les silences de la pieuvre (2014) by Emmanuel de Waresquiel.

Fouché’s first need […] was to tell me his entire life story, a recital that I find in my notes written down that very day as it seemed interesting for me to keep: […] I (Fouché) had known [Robespierre] since our youth, we had belonged to the same academy. I then had occasions to prove to him his inadequacy, a relative insufficiency because he was judged poorly. He had some talent, a strong, persevering will; simplicity, no greed; but he was all puffed up with a pride that I had humiliated. De 1800 à 1812. Un aide de camp de Napoléon. Mémoires du général compte de Ségar (1894), page 438. According to Robespierre (2014) by Hervé Leuwers, it would not appear Fouché joined the arrageois literary society Rosati of which Robespierre was a member, a claim which is nevertheless often invoked.

Fouché had shown the most ardent patriotism, the most sacred devotion since the beginning of the revolution. My brother, who believed him sincere, had accorded him his friendship and his esteem; he spoke to me of him as a proven democrat, and introduced him to me in praising him and asking me to give him my esteem. Fouché, after having been introduced to me by my brother, came to see me assiduously, and had those regards and attentions that one has for a person in whom one is particularly interested. Fouché was not handsome, but he had a charming wit and was extremely amiable. He spoke to me of marriage, and I admit that I felt no repugnance for that bond, and that I was well enough disposed to accord my hand to he whom my brother had introduced to me as a pure democrat and his friend. I did not know that Fouché was only a hypocrite, a swindler, a man without convictions, without morals, and capable of doing anything to satisfy his frenzied ambition. He knew so well how to disguise his vile sentiments and his malicious passions in my eyes as in my brother’s eyes, that I was his dupe as well as Maximilien. I responded to his proposition that I wanted to think about it and consult my brother, and I asked him the time to resolve myself. I spoke of it, effectively, to Robespierre, who showed no opposition to my union with Fouché. Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834) page 122-123. Charlotte places the courtship in the midst of the revolution, which can hardly be accurate given the fact Fouché was already married by then, but it does sound likely for it to have happened somewhere between 1788 and 1790, when both of them were unmarried and lived in Arras.

When [Robespierre and I] again met at the Convention, we, at first, saw each other frequently; but the difference of our opinions, and perhaps, the still greater dissimilarity of our dispositions, soon caused a separation. One day, at the conclusion of a dinner given at my house, Robespierre began to declaim with much violence against the Girondins, particularly abusing Vergniaud, who was present. I was much attached to Vergniaud, who was a great orator, and a man of unaffected manners. I went round to him, and advancing towards Robespierre, said to him, "Such violence may assuredly enlist the passions on your side, but will never obtain for you esteem and confidence." Robespierre, offended, left the room; and it will shortly be seen how far this malignant man carried his animosity against me. Memoirs of Fouché (1825), volume 1, page 12

Lamartine, in the first edition of his Girondins, wrote the following: ”A very small number of friends of Robespierre and Duplay were one after another taken into this intimity: sometimes the Lameths; Le Bas, Saint-Just, always; Panis, Sergent, Coffinhal, Fouché, who liked Robespierre’s sister and who Robespierre didn’t like, Taschereau, Legendre, Le Boucher, Merlin de Thionville, Couthon, Pétion, Camille Desmoulins, Buonarotti, roman patriot… […]” On the placard corrected by the widow and son of Philippe Le Bas, these words are replaced by the following ones: ”The Lamenths and Pétion in the early days, quite rarely Legendre, Merlin de Thionville and Fouché, who liked Robespierre’s sister and who Robespierre didn’t like, often Taschereau, Desmoulins and Teault, always Lebas, Saint-Just, David, Couthon and Buonarotti.” Le conventionnel Le Bas: d’après des documents inédits et les mémoires de sa veuve (1901) page 83-84. This could be read as Élisabeth Le Bas confirming, or at least not denying, that there existed links between Charlotte and Fouché.

…The representatives of the people in Commune-Affranchie, using the powers entrusted to them for the surrounding departments, have already purged several administrations in the department of Allier. So consult with your colleagues by going to Commune-Affranchie. The instructions that Fouché has acquired relative to the department of Allier, where he resided for a long time, will be all the more useful to you since, animated by the same principles, the same effects must result from your common energy. Letter from the CPS to Petitjean, written by Robespierre, January 8 1794

The Committee of Public Safety decides 1, that citizen Reverchon immediately travels to Ville-Affranchie to organise revolutionary government and that he, together with Méaulle, takes all the measures that the interests of the republic need. 2, that the representative Fouché immediately travels to Paris to give to the Committee of Public Safety the neccesary clarifications about the affairs in Ville-Affranchie 3, that all procedurs against the popular society in Ville-Affranchie, and especially against the patriots that were subjected to persecution under the reign of Précy and the federalistes, are suspended. The representative Reverchon and his colleges will severely persecute the enemies of the Republic, protect the true friends of the Republic, help the patriots in need and assure the triumph of liberty through a constant and inflexible energy. Committee of Public Safety decree recalling Fouché from Lyon, written by Robespierre (and signed by him, Collot d’Herbois, Billaud-Varennes, C-A Prieur, Carnot and Barère) on March 27 1794

The Committee of Public Safety, alarmed by the fate of patriots in Commune-Affranchie, considering that the oppression of a single one of them would be a triumph for the enemies of the Revolution and a mortal blow to freedom, orders that all proceedings against the Popular Society of Commune-Affranchie, and particularly against the patriots who were persecuted under the reign of the federalists and Precy, will be suspended: it further orders that the representative of people Fouché immediately travels to Paris to give to the Committee of Public Safety the neccesary clarifications about the affairs in Ville-Affranchie. Committee of Public Safety decree recalling Fouché from Lyon, written by Robespierre (and signed by him, Collot d’Herbois, Billaud-Varennes, C-A Prieur, Carnot, Barère, Saint-Just and Couthon) on March 27 1794 (don’t know why there exists two seperate decrees)

I have since learned that the step I took opposite Robespierre - viz, of calling upon him - was attempted about the same time, and with as little success, by Tallien and Fouché, each of them on his own part. I have learned that their eloquence likewise struck against a determined deaf-mute, and that to all their gentle, forcible, friendly, respectful, and feeling words Robespierre vouchsafed no other answer than an obstinate silence, an expressionless physiognomy, and neither word nor sign. There is in a like silence, on the part of a man wielding the scep tre of death, something more fearful to the imagination than uttered threats. Memoirs of Barras, member of the Directorate (1895) page 206

It is known well enough in what way [Collot and Fouché] conducted themselves [in Lyon]; it is known that they made blood flow in torrents, and plunged the second city of the republic into fright and consternation. Robespierre was outraged by it. […] I was present for the interview that Fouché had with Robespierre upon his return. My brother asked him to account for the bloodshed he had caused, and reproached him for his conduct with such energy of expression that Fouché was pale and trembling. He mumbled a few excuses and blamed the cruel measures he had taken on the gravity of the circumstances. Robespierre replied that nothing could justify the cruelties of which he had been guilty; that Lyon, it was true, had been in insurrection against the National Convention, but that that was no reason to have unarmed enemies gunned down en masse. From that day forth, Fouché was the most irreconcilable enemy of my brother, and joined the faction conspiring his death. I would only learn this later. Fouché never again set foot in my apartment, but I met him from time to time on the Champs-Elysées, where walked almost every day. He addressed me as if nothing had happened between him and my brother. When I learned that he was Maximilien’s declared enemy, I no longer wanted to talk to him. Despicable words have been spoken about me on the subject of that man, some have dared to say that I was his mistress before and after 9 Thermidor; this is an abominable calumny! Never did Fouché cease to have the greatest respect for me; and if in his discourse he had included any words tending to make me neglect my duty, I would have left him that very instant. Besides, Fouché had only sought my hand because my eldest brother occupied premier place on the political stage. That honorific of Robespierre’s brother-in-law flattered his pride and his ambition; to judge by that man’s conduct since, everything was a calculation with him, and, if he pretended to love me, that’s because he saw it was in his interest. What would have become of me if I had married such a being? Mémoires de Charlotte Robespierre sur ses deux frères (1834)

Robespierre murmured a lot about the forms that we had established in Lyon for the execution of decrees: he constantly repeated that there was no reason to judge the guilty when they are outlawed. He exclaimed that we had let the families of the condemned go free; and when the commission sent the Convention and the committee the list of its judgments, he was not in control of his anger as he cast his eyes on the column where the names of the citizens who had been acquitted were written. Unable to change anything in the forms of judgment, regulated according to the decrees and approved by the committee, he imagined another system; he questioned whether the patriots of Commune-Affranchie were not vexed and under oppression. They were, he said, because the property of the condemned being specially intended, by article IV of the decree of July 12, to become their patrimony, we had greatly reduced their claims, not only by not judging only a quarter of the number of conspirators identified by Dubois-Crancé on 23 Vendémiare, or designated by previous decrees, but also by establishing a commission which appeared willing to acquit two thirds, as it happened. Through these declamations Robespierre wanted to entertain the patriots of whom he spoke, with the most violent ideas, to throw into their minds a framework of extraordinary measures, and to put them in opposition with the representatives of the people and their closest cooperators: he made them understand that they could count on him, he emboldened them to form all kinds of obstacles, to only follow his indications which he presented as being the intentions of the Committee of Public Safety. Collot d’Herbois’ explanation of Robespierre’s dislike for his and Fouché’s Lyon activities in Défense de J-M. Collot, répresentant du peuple. Éclaircissemens nécessaires sur ce qui s’est passé à Lyon (alors Commune-Affranchie), l’année dernière; pour faire suite aux rapports des Répresentants du peuple, envoyés vers cette commune, avant, pendant et après le siège (1794), somewhat the polar opposite of Charlotte’s version.

Robespierre accused Fouché of having dishonored the Revolution by exaggerating all measures and erecting atheism as a doctrine. ”No, Fouché," he said to him in the hall of the Jacobins, ”death is not an eternal sleep." Besides, to use his own expression, he believed he "held him in his power in the matter of honesty,” as Fouché had been charged with not having been any too strictly faithful on the occasion of his mission to Lyons, where, outstripping his epoch in those early days, he was believed to have enjoyed a foretaste of that corrupt century. Reports, possibly mendacious, had reached Robespierre, according to which Fouché is said to have, in the midst of the demolition of the dwellings in the town doomed to endure his cruelty, behaved somewhat like the incendiaries who carry on their business by the light of the flames. It is that which caused Robespierre to assume so lofty a manner against Fouché, because Fouché was supposed to have begun "to make money" at a time when no one in the Republic had so far dreamed of doing such a thing, either because of the Terror, which was not disposed to indulgence towards thieves, or because of a sentiment of genuine honesty which dominated men whose sole thought was the defence of the Republic. Memoirs of Barras, member of the Directorate (1895) page 208-209

Fouché reads a report regarding Commune-Affranchie, where he was sent. After having brought up the slander repeated against the representatives sent to this commune, he proves by several observations the need of the measures that they took and the punishments that they handed out. He proves that the blood of crime fertilizes the soil of liberty and consolidates its power on unshakeable foundations. He also develops through much reflection the measures he was obliged to take in the last moments.

A citizen demands the floor in order to speak against Fouché.

Robespierre, after having declared that Fouché’s report is incomplete, pays homage to the patriotism of this representative and to the citizen who presented himself to speak against him. He presents some observations on what has gone down in Commune-Affranchie, and announces that the patriots, the friends of Chalier, and the companions of his suffering have been too modest against the schemers who put themselves in their place, and who introduced themselves among the patriots sent from Paris. He protests that without the schemers, the true patriots already would have plunged the whole conspiracy into nothingness. He recognizes that they have legitimate complaints to make, but he assures that the Committee of Public Safety, which is aware of them, has taken all the necessary measures to establish liberty in these unfortunate countries. Consequently, he invites the patriot who wants to speak, to put aside any kind of bitterness, to develop the facts and to give the knowledge that he considers useful.

I recognize, says this citizen, the validity of the principles of Robespierre, you will subsequently know all the facts. The truth will pierce through all the clouds; I’m backing down. (applauds) Robespierre and Fouché at the Jacobins, April 8 1794

Sure of having sown the seed, I had the courage to defy [Robespierre], on the 20th Prairial (June 8 1794), a day on which, actuated with the ridiculous idea of solemnly acknowledging the existence of the Supreme Being, he dared to proclaim himself both his will and agent, in presence of all the people assembled at the Tuileries. As he was ascending the steps of his lofty tribune, whence he was to proclaim his manifesto in favour of God, I predicted to him aloud (twenty of my colleagues heard it) that his fall was near. Memoirs of Fouché (1825) page 20

A deputation from the Society of Nevers presents itself at the tribune in order to repel charges directed against it. After having summarized the things done for the public sake by the Society which has sent him, the orator announces that the patriots have their souls broken and compromised in Nevers, because of atrocious persecutions of which they are every day the unfortunate victims.

Fouché (currently serving as president of the Jacobins): Your society deserves severe reproaches. If it is true to say that the impure breath of Chaumette could not exert its disastrous influence there during his stay in Nevers, it seems at least certain that the shadow of this conspirator hovers there today. Imprisoned suspects were released, and your Society made no complaint. Ardent and pure patriots, true sans-culottes, were slandered by federalist lawyers, and your Society remained silent. Finally, its correspondence is insignificant, it is null. As the Jacobins do not know how to disguise any truth, I make it my duty, on their behalf, to point out some false and very weak ideas that you have just expressed. The patriots, you say, have their souls compromised at this moment in Nevers. Citizens, strong hearts can never be compromised; Republicans know how to die for the truth as well as for liberty, and the perfidious person who tells you that he is not free to express his thoughts is a coward; the crime is in his heart, he complains of not being able to produce it. You hand us, as proof of your opposition to the maxims of the conspirators, the celebration that you are preparing for the Supreme Being; but in this you are only obeying the impulse given to nature. Add to this natural impulse the strength and courage to dedicate yourself to the defense of patriots and the annihilation of their oppressors; the exercise of democratic virtues. Brutus paid homage worthy of the Supreme Being by bringing the blade into the heart of the one who conspired against the liberty of his homeland.

I don't know, says Robespierre immediately, if the Society understood the motive and the object of the approach of the members of the Society of Nevers; I ask if the president's response can shed some light on this point. For my part, I assure you that I don't understand anything about it. If the president knows everything that concerns morals, it is his duty to explain. Everyone knows that Nevers was one of the main centers of the conspiracies hatched by Chaumette, in concert with the supporters of the foreign faction. We must remember that he abandoned his post as national agent, near the Paris Commune where he appeared to play a major role, to go, under a frivolous pretext, to plot in the commune of Nevers: it is important that we learn from what we were able to discover on such a journey. I ask that the president explain his response to us, and tell us frankly what he thinks.

Fouché takes the floor to give clarifications. He announces that, having served as representative of the people in the department of Nièvre at the time when the scoundrel Chaumette arrived in Nevers under the pretext of enjoying the native air, he didn’t hear from his mouth any counterrevolutionary expression; that he only saw him while in public, that, the popular society believing this Chaumette to be a zealous defender of liberty, it took him in without difficulty and without defiance. Fouché thinks that this immoral man hid away, because he saw the constitutional authorities strongly attached to good principles, and that he conspired in secret, and then returned to Paris to there continue his execrable profession of assassin of all public and private morality. As for the deputation that has just been heard, Fouché declares that, as the Society of Nevers has been indirectly attacked, it will send a deputation of its members to respond to the imputations that have been made against it, that there was a time when suspicious people, arrested, then released, and finally imprisoned again, managed to obtain an arrest order against the patriots. “This,” he says, “is all I know; I reproached the deputation on the weakness of the letters written by the Society of Nevers, and on the insignificance of its correspondence. The deputation presented its address to me when it entered, and it is on that I’m basing my answer.

Robespierre is surprised that the president and the delegation only say insignificant things that cannot enlighten the Society. He declares that Chaumette having hatched his plots in Nevers, it is impossible that neither the representative nor the Société populaire had knowledge of some of the maneuvers he employed. He recalls that at the moment when the Convention took a vigorous decision against the infernal plot of Chaumette, the Society of Nevers sent the Convention an address in which the decree was faulted.

Fouché observes that this adress wasn’t from the Society of Nevers, but from that of Moulins.

Robespierre replies that the latter is right next to to the other, that both corresponded to each other and that the information must have been the same; he continues by maintaining that the Society is isn’t instructed by the details that have just been given to it, and one has not sufficiently characterized the men who are called patriots, and those who are declared triumphant aristocrats. He is surprised to hear congratulations on the decree issued yesterday, mixed with observations presented by the Society of Nevers, as if this society could be aware of this decree. It is not by sentences, as he observes, but by conduct and facts that one must judge men: instead of stopping at the language of the deputation, one must ask the Society of Nevers if it fought Chaumette and foiled his horrible schemes? Very often the greatest enemies of the people use republican expressions, to better deceive unsuspecting citizens. It is not a question, he says, of throwing mud on the grave of Chaumette, when this monster has already perished on the scaffold. For a long time people have done evil while speaking the language of republicans. Today someone is spewing imprecations against Danton, who until recently was his accomplice. There are others who appear all fired up to defend the Committee of Public Safety, and who then sharpen daggers against it. The enemies of liberty have retained the same audacity, they have not changed their system; they do not want to appear to separate themselves from the patriots; they praise and flatter them; they even make vague imprecations against tyrants, and at the same time they conspire for their cause! It is to their friends the conspirators that they give the name of patriots; and it is the latter that they designate by the name of aristocrats: they surround the Committee of Public Safety and the representatives of the people only to intrigue, to lead them astray and thus destroy the Revolution. There are still two parties within the Republic: on the one hand patriotism and probity; on the other, the counter-revolutionary spirit, the crookedness and the improbity which are bent on the ruin of empires and the virtue of humankind. Patriots, you who in the career of the Revolution have only sought the public good, you who did nor go into it to serve a criminal faction, be more than ever on your guard; evil men use all imaginable artifices to destroy the Convention and slaughter the defenders of the homeland. Do not fall asleep in a false security, do not abandon the Convention and the government of which it is the center: let courageous voices be raised to make the truth known, stifle the clamors of the intriguers who surround us daily, who change patriotism into aristocracy, and reciprocally aristocracy into patriotism. Do not tire of instructing us, rest assured that the wish to sacrifice ourselves for all patriots is always deeply engraved in our hearts, that we are resolved to defend persecuted virtue with all our power, and to fight with strength and constancy the enemies of liberty and patriotism. This is the wish that I address, on behalf of the representatives, to the oppressed patriots; it is not natural that we remain indifferent on their account: the first of the republican virtues is to watch over innocence. Pure patriots, one is waging a war to the death against you, save yourselves, save with you all the friends of liberty.

Robespierre’s speech is followed by the liveliest applause.

Fouché observes that he hasn’t wanted to reproach the Society of Nevers for not having denounced Chaumette. This society didn’t know him as a conspirator, it wouldn’t have been late to accuse him warmly, had it suspected him of this. Robespierre and Fouché at the Jacobins, June 11 1794

Five days after (June 12) in full committee, [Robespierre] demanded my head and that of eight of my friends, reserving to himself the destruction of twenty more at a later period. How great was his astonishment, and what was his rage, upon finding amongst the members of the committee an invincible opposition to his sanguinary designs against the national representation! It has already been too much mutilated, said they to him, and it is high time to put a stop to a deliberate and progressive cutting-down, which at last will include ourselves. Finding himself in a minority, he withdrew, choked with rage and disappointment, swearing never to set foot again in the committee, so long as his will should be opposed. He immediately sent for St. Just, who was with the army, rallied Couthon under his sanguinary banner, and by his influence over the revolutionary tribunal, still made the Convention, and all those who were operated on by fear, to tremble. Memoirs of Fouché (1825), volume 1, page 20

Robespierre: The example of Commune-Affranchie can explain a theory that I have already noted. The patriots defend the patriots with all their means; they give no rest to the intriguers and traitors, they constantly badger and fight them; aristocrats do precisely the opposite. I knew Chalier at a time when the patriotic representatives of the people were themselves persecuted. It was he who first discovered Roland's perfidy, and denounced him to me for keeping an immense store of libels at his home, directed against the Mountain and against me. Chalier had no sooner known this conspiring minister than he abandoned him and renounced the justice he had come to demand from him, not wanting to owe anything to a traitor who sought to ignite civil war in France.

[Robespierre] adds that since this moment he has only known Chalier through the acts of heroism and virtue which immortalized his name. The enemies of the people were only able to establish their triumph through the assassination of this man, as patriotic as he was intrepid. He recalls the courage of this republican at the time of his torture, prolonged by the villainy of the aristocrats of Lyon who brought the ax down on his head four times, which he raised each time, crying out in a dying voice: Long live the Republic, attach the cockade to me.

After this touching story, Robespierre goes into detail about the services rendered by Chalier's friends; he knows them all, he also knows their persecutors. The fate of the former was to be oppressed by all the factions that succeeded one another. They opposed these tyrannical and unprecedented vexations with a calm and patience of which it is impossible to find an example in the history of any people.

When the overly prolonged siege of Lyon was over, and this commune had been returned to the power of the Republic, the friends of Chalier were not restored to the goodness that they had so well deserved by their constant virtue. One took care to make sure Précy and all the other conspirators escaped, although one went so far as to making the trick of the Committee the supposed remains of this monster. The gate of Lyon was opened to them at the very moment when the Republican army entered, and they left through the gate where the army corps commanded by Dubois-Crancé was, which remained motionless.

Another cause of the impunity of the conspirators is that national justice has not been exercised with the degree of force and action that the interests of a great people require and command. The temporary commission initially displayed energy, but soon it gave way to human weakness which too soon tires of serving the homeland, and it lost with all its courage, its devotion and its purity. After having given in to the insinuations of the perverse aristocrats, the persecution was established against the patriots themselves: the cause of this criminal change can be found in the seduction of certain women, and it is to these terrible maneuvers that we can attribute the despair that led Gaillard to kill himself.

Reduced to escape, the patriots come to submit their complaints to the Committee of Public Safety, which rescues them from persecution, and suppresses their odious persecutors with fear. Thus, virtue will be eternally exposed to the traits of two factions which, opposed in apperance, always rally to sacrifice the patriots. Here [Robespierre] swears to avenge Chalier, Gaillard and all the victims of the infamous aristocracy.

The speaker's principles are to stop the shedding of human blood caused by crime: the authors of the plots denounced, on the contrary, only aspire to immolate all patriots and especially the National Convention, since the Committee indicated the vices from which it must purge itself. Who are those who have constantly distinguished error from crime, and who have defended lost patriots? Isn’t it the members of the Committee? Those who demand justice can only be formidable to the leaders of the factions, and those who want to destroy the members of the Committee in public opinion can have no other intention than to serve the projects of the tyrants interested in the fall of a Committee which disconcerts them and will soon destroy them.

Robespierre ends by denouncing the author of all these maneuvers who is the same one who persecuted the patriots at Commune-Affranchie, with a cunning, a perfidy as cowardly as it is cruel: the Committee of Public Safety was not his dupe. He asks, finally, that justice and virtue triumph, that innocence be peaceful and the people victorious over all their enemies, and that the Convention puts all petty intrigues under its feet.

Couthon, who had interrupted Robespierre in order to cite charges against Dubois-Crancé regarding the siege of Commune-Affranchie, proposes that he be struck from the club’s list of members (adopted).

At the suggestion of Robespierre, Fouché is invited to come and exonerate himself of the reproaches which have been addressed to him before the Society. Robespierre at the Jacobins, July 11 1794

One reads a letter from Fouché, in which he asks the Society to suspend their judgement up until the Committees of Public Safety and General Security have made their report on his private and public conduct.

Robespierre: I begin by making the declaration that I am not interested in the individual Fouché at all. I could be connected to him because I thought him a patriot. When I denounced him here, it was less because of his past crimes than because he hid away in order to commit others, and because I regarded him as the leader of the conspiracy which we have to thwart.

I examine the letter which was just read out, and I see that it is written by a man who, being accused for crimes, refuses to justify himself before his fellow citizens. This is the beginning of a system of tyranny. He who refuses to answer to a Popular Society whose member he is, is a man who attacks the institution of Popular Societies. This contempt for the Society of the Jacobins is all the more inexcusable as Fouché himself has not refused his suffrage when he was denounced by the patriots from Nevers, and as he even took refuge on the [president’s] seat of the Jacobins. He was placed there because he had agents in this Society, who had been at Commune-Affranchie. He delivers a great speech to you on his conduct in the mission with which he had been charged. I will not seek to analyse this speech. The Society has judged that Fouché does not want to say anything, as his reflections are insignificant.

It is surprising that the one who, at the time of which I speak, craved the approval of the Society, neglects it when he is denounced, and that he seems to implore, so to speak, the aid of the Convention against the Jacobins. Does he fear the eyes and ears of the people? Does he fear that his sad face visibly presents crime, that six thousand looks fixed on him discover his entire soul in his eyes, and that, in spite of nature which has hidden them, one reads his thoughts there? Does he fear that his speech reveals the embarrassment and the contradictions of a culprit? A reasonable man has to judge that fear is the only motive of Fouché’s conduct ; well, the man who fears the looks of his fellow citizens is a culprit. He uses [the fact] as a pretext that his denunciation is sent to the Committee of Public Safety ; but is he forgetting that the tribunal of the public conscience is the most infallible? Why does he refuse to present himself here?

The obligation to give an account of his mission to the Committees of Public Safety and of General Security, which are the government, and to the Convention, which is its source or, rather, which is the government by definition, this obligation, I say, does not destroy the one of appearing respectable in the eyes of a Society, and does not excuse appearing to put it in contradiction with the Convention. A representative is responsible for his actions to the Convention; but a good citizen does not discard appearing before his fellow citizens. If the system of Fouché could dominate, it would follow that those who have denounced schemes outside of the Convention have committed a crime. This was the conduct of all conspirators, who, from the moment onwards when one has wanted to judge them, shunned this Society and denounced it to the different National Assemblies as a gathering of factious [persons].

I here call Fouché into judgement. He shall respond and he shall say who, among him and us, has borne the rights of the representatives of the people with more dignity, and struck down all factions with more courage? Was it him who unveiled the Héberts and the Chaumettes, when they hatched assassination plots and wanted to debase the Convention? No! It was us who, on this tribune, when the Hébertists claimed to be more patriotic than us, unmasked them openly. It was us who silenced the false denunciations.

They shall say if they would have been listened to here, these men who had only served the Revolution in order to dishonour it and to make it turn to the benefit of the foreign [powers] and of the aristocracy! All the vile agents who have conspired did not see their likes unveiled and punished sooner than they seemed to abandon their cause ; and, because we had dismissed the perfidiously spread calumnies against the Convention, they extended this principle onto themselves in such a way as to render it tyrannical. The slightest words against this kind of men have been regarded as crimes by them; terror was the means which they used in order to force the patriots into silence. They threw those into prison who had the courage to break it; and this is the crime for which I reproach Fouché!

He will not say that it were the principles of the Convention that he has professed ; the intention of the Convention is not to throw terror into the soul of the patriots, nor to carry out the dissolution of the Popular Societies. Which means would thus remain to us, if, while plotters conspire and prepare daggers in order to assassinate us, we could not speak in the presence of the Friends of Liberty?

Robespierre then declares that Fouché is a vile and despicable impostor ; that his move is the confession of his crimes and that the action which he takes is similar to the one of the Brissots and of the other crooks who slander the Society as soon as they are chased from it. He assures that virtue will never sacrificed to baseness, nor [will] liberty [be sacrificed] to men whose hands are full of rapines and crimes. I do not want to add anything, he says while closing; Fouché himself has characterised himself enough. I have made all these observations, so that the conspirators know once and for all that they must never hope to escape the surveillance of the people.

A citizen from Commune-Affranchie reports some serious facts against Fouché. The Society sends them to the Committee of Public Safety and, upon the motion of a member, Fouché is excluded from the Society.

The citizens Tolède and Dessyrier, who found themselves at Commune-Affranchie in the days of Fouché, and who claim to be accused, mount the tribune.

Robespierre observes that these two citizens divert, without wanting it, the attention away from Fouché, and that his cause must not be common with theirs. He recalls that the conspirators have always sought to save themselves by placing themselves beside pure patriots ; he hence invites Tolède and Dessyrier not to interrupt a discussion wherein they are not involved. – After members did justice to the patriotism of these citizens, they descend from the tribune. Robespierre at the Jacobins, July 14 1794

They are strange accomplices of Robespierre, those who, against his will, made a political report on the religious troubles, sheltered from all research in this matter the representatives of the people sent on mission in the departments, defended Tallien, Dubois-Crance, Fouché, Bourdon de l'Oise, and other representatives whom he relentlessly pursued. Réponse des membres des deux anciens Comités de Salut Public et de sûreté générale aux imputations renouvelées contre eux par Laurent Lecointre, de Versailles, et déclarées calomnieuses par décret du 13 fructidor dernier, à la Convention Nationale (1795) by Barère, Collot d’Herbois, Vadier and Billaud-Varennes

One man alone in the Convention appeared to enjoy an inexpugnable popularity: this was Robespierre, a man full of pride and cunning; an envious and vindictive being, who was never satiated with the blood of his colleagues; and who, by his capacity, steadiness, the clearness of his head, and the obstinacy of his character, surmounted circumstances the most appalling. Availing himself of his preponderance in the Committee of Public Safety, he openly aspired, not only to the tyranny of the decemviri, but to the despotism of the dictatorship of Marius and Sylla. One step more would have given him the masterdom of the revolution, which it was his audacious ambition to govern at his will; but thirty victims more were to be sacrificed, and he had marked them out in the convention.

He well knew that I understood him; and I, therefore, was honoured by being inscribed upon his tablets at the head of those doomed to destruction. I was still on a mission, when he accused me of oppressing the patriots and tampering with the aristocracy. Being recalled to Paris, I dared to call upon him from the tribune, to make good his accusation. He caused me to be expelled from the Jacobins, of whom he was the high-priest; this was for me equivalent to a decree of proscription. I did not trifle in contending for my head, nor in long and secret deliberations with such of my colleagues as were threatened with my own fate. I merely said to them, among others to Legendre, Tallien, Dubois de Crancé, Daunou and Chénier: “You are on the list, you are on the list as well as myself, I am certain of it!” Tallien, Barras, Bourdon de l'Oise and Dubois de Crancé evinced some energy. Tallien contended for two lives, of which one was then dearer to him than his own: he therefore resolved upon assassinating the future dictator, even in the Convention itself. But what a hazardous chance was this! Robespierre’s popularity would have survived him, and we should have been immolated to his manes. I therefore dissuaded Tallien from an isolated enterprise, which would have destroyed the man, but preserved his system.

Convinced that other means must be resorted to, I went straight to those who shared with Robespierre the government of terror, and whom I knew to be envious or fearful of his immense popularity. I revealed to Collot d'Herbois, to Carnot, to Billaud-Varennes, the designs of the modern Appius; and I presented to each of them separately, so lively and so true a picture of the danger of their situation, I urged them with so much address and good fortune, that I insinuated into their breasts more than mistrust, but the courage of henceforth opposing the Tyrant in any further decimating of the Convention. "Count the votes,” said I to them, “in your committee, and you will see, that when you are determined, he will be reduced to the powerless minority of a Couthon and a Saint-Just. Refuse him your votes, and compel him to stand alone by your vis inertiæ.” But what contrivances, what expedients were necessary to avoid exasperating the Jacobin club, the Seides, and the partisans of Robespierre.

My eye was on him; and seeing him reduced to a single faction, I secretly urged such of his enemies who still clung to the committee, at least to remove the artillery from Paris, who were all devoted to Robespierre and the Commune, and to deprive Henriot of his command or at least to suspend him. The first measure I obtained, thanks to the firmness of Carnot, who alleged the necessity of sending reinforcements of artillery to the army. As to depriving Henriot of his command, that appeared too hazardous; Henriot remained, and was near losing all, or rather, to speak the truth, it was he, who on the 9th Thermidor (the 27th July) ruined the cause of Robespierre, the triumph of which was for a short time in his power. But what could be expected from a drunken and stupid ci-devant footman.

What follows is too well known for me to dwell upon it. It is notorious how Maximilian the First perished; a man whom certain authors have compared to the Gracchi, to whom he bore not the slightest resemblance, either in eloquence or elevation of mind. I confess that in the delirium of victory, I said to those who thought that his views tended to the dictatorship: "You do him too much honour; he had neither plan, nor design: far from disposing of futurity, he was drawn along, and did but obey an impulse he could neither oppose nor govern." But at that time I was too near a spectator of events justly to appreciate their history. The sudden overthrow of the dreadful system which suspended the nation between life and death, was doubtless a grand epoch of liberty; but, in this world, good is ever mixed with evil. What took place after Robespierre's fall? that which we have seen to have been the case after a fall still more memorable. Those who had crouched most abjectly before the decemvir, could, after his death, find no expression strong enough to express their detestation of him. Memoirs of Fouché (1825), volume 1, page 18-22

…The fact is that, sent [to Lyon], after the sack of this city, I (Fouché) returned in revolt, with a report against Robespierre, and that, from this moment up until Thermidor, I was his declared rival! Robespierre had established himself at the Jacobins, and I in the Committees, from where I expelled him; you'll see! I was a Jacobin myself, but there were two kinds. As for us, we were not popular; we talked about equality, but deep down we were aristocrats! Yes, more aristocratic than anyone perhaps! The Jacobins of the opposite party, such as Hullin, paved the way; they would shout in the crowd on the floor; we only saw them in the stands. It was Robespierre’s henchmen who flattered this populace; Robespierre was its leader, its soul, attempting to reign through them and crush the Convention! But we were his antagonists there, me at the head! He feared me. […] [The fact that I had humiliated his pride] was enough to be certain that he would be my mortal enemy, his hateful and envious character would never forgive me for it, no more than Lacuée who, if it wasn’t for Carnot, he would have had guillotined! […] I understood that you couldn’t go and fight such a man in his club; that I there would be dominated, crushed, and that to resist it, it was necessary to choose another terrain, that is to say the Convention itself and its Committees. It was therefore there that, on my return from Lyon, I began with a report on what needed to be done to stop the complete disorganization of this province, of which I accused Robespierre. People were surprised and terrified by my audacity, Carnot among others, who in his emotion embraced me, praising my courage, but warning me that it would cost me my head! This did not stop me, I persisted; and, addressing all the enemies of the Dictator, either separately or in meetings that I convened as head of public education, I reassured them, encouraged them, and got the Committee to call Robespierre before it to defend itself. It was putting him in a false position, he did not accept it; he refused to present himself and confined himself to the Jacobins, where I proposed to have him attacked, seized as a rebel and thrown into the river! We were preparing the means when the 9th of Thermidor arrived, the day when Tallien, single-handedly, unexpectedly, without having warned us, without knowing our project, warning us, denounced Robespierre as the tyrant of his colleagues! He cited me in support of this questioning, to which Robespierre replied that this was a duel between him and me! You know the rest. But what we don't know is that, under the Directory, it was again me who destroyed the tail of this party, after having thus fought its head! De 1800 à 1812. Un aide de camp de Napoléon. Mémoires du général compte de Ségar (1894), page 437-438

The primary object of [Robespierre’s] ambition seemed to be to strike, in the first place, what remained or what might spring up again of those he looked upon as his personal enemies, of whom in his hatred he never lost sight. At the head of those he had marked for death stood Fouché, and as, in view of the point his personal quarrel with Robespierre had reached, he could not but succumb within a very short time, it had been concluded therefrom that he was to be one of those who would deal the first blows at Robespierre.

But the arguments brought into play to convince Fouché of his danger were not sufficient to inspire him with courage. He had certainly been at all times an ultra-Revolutionist, and had shown what he was made of in his support of the system of terror; but he had not exactly hit the idea of Robespierre, or rather he had become his rival, and had given him offence by going even further than he did. Fouché's position was therefore not one to afford him opposite his enemy a frank and clearly defined character enabling him to attack him openly. Robespierre had told Fouché that his face was the expression of crime. Fouché, far from replying, took it as a matter of course; expelled from the Jacobins, he had not been able to return to the fold; he no longer dared show himself even in the Convention, but busied himself actively and with a will with intrigues and machinations of the lowest kind. I sent him hither and thither to inform our friends of what we knew of the intentions of Robespierre, Saint-Just, and Couthon. His personal dread of the triumvirs served but to increase in his eyes the idea of their hostile plans. Everything that he already dreaded most sincerely was artfully exaggerated by him when seeking to stimulate those whom he sought to induce to make up their minds to action. Rising at early morning, he would run round till night calling on deputies of all shades of opinion, saying to each and everyone, "You perish tomorrow if he does not.” To those who mourned Danton, and who were threatened with the resentment of his executioners, Fouché said: ”We may, if we see fit, be avenged tomorrow, and tomorrow only will we be safe.”

In order to instil fresh courage into minds so stricken with fright more than one speech was required to place the question before each and every one in such a way that he should see his own interests in it. Hence it cannot be denied that Fouché, gathering together by his clever intriguing all sentiments against Robespierre, was a genuine resource in the midst of the elements extant ready to make a decisive move against the oppressors of the Convention. […] Matters were growing worse apace; no longer was there any possibility of a reconciliation, even under the mask of mutual deceit. Not only had hostilities been declared, but a war to the knife proclaimed. In spite of all Fouché's prudence, a letter written in his own hand had been intercepted, containing particularly the following line addressed to a colleague in the Convention: ”Ere a fortnight has rolled over us either Maximilien or we shall have ceased to exist." Hence the quarrel could end only by the destruction of one side or the other; nothing was left but to conquer or die.

Even at a time when he was brought face to face with the necessity of defending himself, it was not in Fouché to do so aboveboard. Indirect means, those of ceaseless and underground intrigue, in which he had served his apprenticeship at the Oratory, he was familiar with; and just as everything comes handy in a household, so in a conspiracy, which is itself but an intrigue more serious than others, skill and manoeuvring constitute the necessary elements; and it will be seen that Fouché was to be, if not by his courage, at least by his doings, a useful cooperator in what was about to take place. He has, in later days, boasted that he dealt mortal blows to Robespierre; the fact is that in order to flee from his wrath and, if he could have done so; from his relentless memory, Fouché no longer appeared at the National Convention nor slept at home; it was at night alone that, under various disguises, he would go the rounds of such of his colleagues as were busily engaged in preparing means of defence against Robespierre, and bring and carry from one to the other every particular as to what was taking place, and go on the errands it was requisite should be dextrously done in order to cement the alliances we were forming pending the moment, impossible to positively determine, when the decisive blow was to be struck. Memoirs of Barras, member of the Directorate (1895) page 207-214

Legendre: […] I did not see Fouché during his missions, but I saw him at the Jacobins; he surrounded himself with all the men who, before the 9th of Thermidor, were preparing for this great day. There he openly attacked Robespierre who, wanting to manage him or give himself the means to destroy him, had him named president of the Jacobins. Fouché seized this post to attack Robespierre more openly, and in his responses he designated this tyrant whom it was necessary to strike. I declare that I see Fouché as one of the elements of the day of 9 Thermidor. Tallien: On Germinal 12, at the time when I believed I saw in Fouché a man linked to the conspirators, I had the courage to denounce him. Since that time, I have had no relationship with him, but it is my duty to defend him by attesting to the facts that are within my knowledge. Fouché was proscribed by Robespierre, because he had opposed the measures taken by Collot in Lyon. Fouché courageously unmasked Robespierre, and declared that, even if his head fell, he would make this dictator known to the people. Every day Fouché came to report to us what was happening at the Committee of Public Safety, and the day before the 9th of Thermidor he told us: “The division is complete, tomorrow we must strike.” The next day, the tyrant was no more. Fouché, at the same time, wrote to his sister: “In a short time the tyrant shall be punished. Robespierre only have a few days left to reign.” This letter was intercepted by Bô, who sent it to Robespierre. These are the facts I had to make known. Legendre and Tallien at the Convention, August 9 1794

Madame Collot (d’Herbois) Mademoiselle Robespierre (their titles are common as well as their distress) Per month: 200 pounds Per year: 2400 pounds for special help. Collective decree granting Charlotte a pension from Minister of Police Fouché dated February 8 1805, cited in Charlotte Robespierre et ses amis (1961) by Gabriel Pioro and Pierre Labracherie.

#fouché wanting to throw robespierre into the seine😂😭#fouché #robespierre #maximilien robespierre #charlotte robespierre #joseph fouché #frev friendships #frev #french revolution

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worldruins · 9 months

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Meet the Remnant, my "slugcat" oc. Because I have no sense of moderation, it has an entire campaign loosely mocked up in my head- I don't have the modding ability or time to make anything of it but I enjoy thinking about it! The two iterators on the sheet are the central npcs of the campaign.

Remnant is larger, more aquatic, and faster on all fours than a slugcat. It struggles to use the same tools, carries items in its mouth, and can eat batnip and bubble weed. And, though it doesn’t know it, it is one of the last four of its kind left.

More about the campaign below VVV

BONUS: Remnant obviously resembles a slugcat, and they are sort of a slugcat ancestor! The genomes of the pipe slugs slugcats evolved from had remnant DNA as well as the simple tool-worm base that ancients used for many creatures. The blueprints were present in the modified organisms, and over several generations and mutations began to express themselves once more. Anyway…

To start, the Remnant is living with their family in an idyllic natural landscape much like survivor and monk at the beginning of their campaigns. The incident kickstarting their journey would be them wandering off from their kin and- gameplay starts here- getting lured off by something interesting, before the wall closes quickly behind them and the player realizes they have been trapped. They find themselves in a crate lined with wet plant matter, which gets shaken and turned around for a bit before settling down. It continues with a gentler rattling and remnant is clearly being taken somewhere, but the game acts like you're in a den and, once you've eaten the food set out for you in there, you sleep.

You are woken when the train carrying you crashes. You are able to escape and wind up in a light drizzle. Numerous overseers, some purple and others seafoam green, follow you around. The artificial, dilapidated surroundings are alien to the remnant.

During the first cycle an overseer will direct you to the nearest den, but you don’t have a rain timer until the first time you hibernate. You’ve never experienced rain like this before, after all.

The fact is that the remnant and their family are primal fauna, from the old world before bioengineering and iterators. They have spent their whole lives in a carefully controlled environment, maintained at first by ancients and then the systems the ancients left behind. The mass ascension happened, and nobody really knew what to do with these creatures- depending on the species, animals in captivity were generally released to fend for themselves or set for years of being maintained by machines scheduled in advanced, automated to care for them.

Remnant is taken when the iterator Ink Stained Palms orders a specimen of one relatively hardy species to study and potentially have the rest delivered to their regions. Something goes wrong- their delivery is sabotaged by their semi-active former senior, Calls To Stony Skies. And out Remnant goes into an alien land, with each of the two rival iterators trying to lure or force it to go to them.

This generally takes the form of projections like Iggy uses to get the slugcats to Moon, though it’s two different kinds of overseer guiding you in opposite directions at the same time. There may also be introduced environmental hazards- some of the chases in Little Nightmares come to mind- to corral you toward wherever the iterator causing it wants you to go.

ISP was the one who was getting the remnant delivered to her facility. They’re a bioengineer interested in long-term ecosystem restoration. It’s come to believe there’s a natural ‘balance’ to the world that could, in time, let living things leave the cycle of their own accord if it was realigned properly.

CTSS is in a condition not unlike spearmaster moon, though his decline has been steadier and over a longer period of time. They’ve been replaced by another iterator as group senior, and derailed your journey in the hopes of using a rare animal as collateral to get ISP’s help. Watching the remnant’s struggle to survive, however, he ends up very attached to it and can’t bring himself to kill it as he originally planned to.

Though they might want to, CTSS can’t save the remnant from a more insidious fate. The air, the soil, the water itself is toxic to you, whose kind has lived countless generations shielded from the heavy metal byproducts of industry and the artificial metabolisms of those great boxes in the sky. Ascension is an option, but so is going to ISP, whose body itself possesses a complex with artificial environments much like the one you began in. It can’t protect the remnant fully, but it can offer them a longer life. There are multiple endings to the campaign, based on the order you visit the iterators in.

If you read all this thank you so much and feel free to send questions!! About my little guys.

#mine #ruinart #rw #rain world #rain world oc #slugcat oc #..sort of #iterator oc #oc: the remnant #oc: ink stained psalms #oc: calls to stony skies

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your-nanas-house · 1 year

Note

Hi there! May I request a fic where Anthony Bridgerton’s wife gives him the silent treatment after an argument? Thank you! I love you 💖

Hello! Of course, this is my first fic with Anthony Bridgerton so sorry if it's bad. You're welcome! 💖

Silent Treatment

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton X wife!Reader

Warnings: argument, angst, fluff

Words: 775

Summary: in the request

Note: Sorry for the mistakes and the English.

.................................................................

Everyone in the Bridgerton family knew by now well the personality of the eldest son, even the lucky lady who agreed to become his wife taking the title of Viscountess but that did not mean she tolerated it.

Her husband Anthony could be sweet, protective, a true gentleman but at the same time also competitive, annoying and stubborn; according to him everything was on his shoulders, which had been true since Edmund's (the father's) death, but there was no need to be so closed-minded and dedicated to work because if not you would become frustrated and exactly what happened one evening.

The newly married couple got along well, they loved each other and enjoyed each other's company but there were times when there were small quarrels that did not turn into something serious since Y/n's personality was able to let it be and calm the situation down before the situation escalated but to everything there is a limit, even to the viscountess's patience.

It happened shortly after dinner, they had enjoyed a family meal and she had retreated to their bedroom, returning downstairs only when she realized that Anthony was still not joining her.

This was not expected, Anthony should not have let the comment slip from his mouth even if it was a confidential conversation with his siblings, but as one can well see from the considerable amount of children Violet Bridgerton had with Edmund Bridgerton, nothing remained a confidential conversation in that house; for that reason an argument also began that evening but it did not end as the Viscount expected because this time his wife's patience reached a limit and although they had moved to their rooms she refused to calm the situation and ignore again but answered in the same tone, letting out of her lips all the things she had been thinking and holding in for several months leaving Anthony silent for a few moments but still angry.

He had no chance to respond because as soon as Y/n finished screaming she grabbed a pillow and headed for another room, locking herself in there.

The Viscount wanted to follow her but realized that maybe it was better if he let her sleep wherever she preferred for that night since the next morning everything would be back to the way it was or so he thought.

The next morning there were no words exchanged between the two of them, Y/n just had breakfast with her husband's family while she ignored him completely refusing to talk to him, infuriating Anthony who followed her into the kitchen where she had moved and stopped his anger which turned to guilt when he saw her wiping away tears.

Apparently yesterday's words had hurt her more than the gentleman thought, it was not his intention and he did not really mean them rather he actually claimed the opposite but at that moment it had seemed right to say it to win the argument.

The silent treatment continued throughout the day, there were attempts by the viscount to try to apologize or talk to his wife but she continued with that punishment that caused Anthony to break down in the evening.

He needed to put things right as soon as possible, which is why he locked himself in his office and only came out when he was sure he had everything ready, after which he went to the rooms where his viscountess had decided to spend the night again and knocked on the door while waiting.

No one answered but he did not allow himself to be demoralized and began to recite the mediocre poem he had attempted to write in his office, waiting for a response, which there was as Y/n opened the door to the room shortly after, looking at him completely serious.

Anthony continued with his courtship for three more days before she gave in completely by forgiving him and going back to sleep in his arms at night, gladly accepting their first heir also as a way of proving to Anthony that she could be a great mother even though she might be childish at times, thus proving to him that his claim of the now-forgotten quarrel was completely false but Anthony didn't need to have proof to realize that.

He loved his Viscountess and would have done anything for her, even wooing her all week long despite the fact that they were already married, just to see that smile on her sweet lips or a giggle come out of her gorgeous mouth, her love-filled eyes directed only at him and her body asleep or awake in his arms.

Taglist:

@gabile18 , @mrsfullbuster500 , @rex-ray , @elizamalfoyy, @eovjjj , @monkeyking-and-liuer-mate , @jeremiah-va1eska , @gothamchic16, @rabbiteggz , @dieg0brandos-wife , @rottenecstasy , @lazyexcuse , @teh-vampire-bunny , @lobotomy-lover , @slasher-smasher

#anthony bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton x you #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton #bridgerton series #anthony bridgerton x female reader

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long-manic-nights · 4 months

Text

We love @snorhora for suggesting this too.

Assorted OTP Questions

What is each member’s love language?

Takao: you all know this one. Acts of service and words of affirmation. Besides that's what Shin-chan needs.

Midorima: Quiality time and Gift giving (expensive lucky items)

What would they describe as their perfect date?

Takao: Movies!! Watching movies, making out instead of watching them. He's a simple guy.

Midorima: He likes going out to very nice restaurants.

Who made the first move?

If you read my fanfic , you'll know it was a very mutual, very drunk kiss.

Who is more sentimental?

People think it's Takao, but they're wrong. Midorima is a sentimental CANCER.

Which member calls the other in to kill the spiders?

Takao was, and still is, a insect kid. Midorima is extremely disgusted by them, but kills them himself.

Who falls asleep first?

Midorima puts his head on the pillow and falls asleep. Takao hates it for it.

Who wakes up first?

Midorima, every time.

Who is more more relaxed/carefree?

Takao.

What’s one way their personalities compliment one another? (Is it opposites attract or are they pretty similar?)

They're so opposites attract. Midorima is an introverted and Takao is the extrovert that adopted him and refused to leave.

Who is always cold?

Takao, because there are days he would do anything for the outfit.

Which member is always trying to bring home stray animals and which member always has to say no?

Takao is always bringing strays. Midorima makes him put them up for adoption every time.

Who worries more?

Midorima. He's always worried about something Takao-related, specially if he's not there: Did he eat? Did he get enough sleep? Did he take a sweater before going out? Does he still love him?

What are some non-sexual activities they do together?

Going to the movies.

Who would be able to talk their way out of a speeding ticket?

TAKAO WOULD TALK HIS WAY OUT OF HELL.

Who is the better cook?

Takao. Midorima is a danger to us all.

What are some things they don’t agree on?

They agree on pretty much everything, considering they are the same person on different fonts. They desagree mostly about their tastes in music and movies.

Which member is more physically affectionate?

Takao is always sitting on Shin-chan's lap or hugging him or hanging from his neck.

Which member is more verbally affectionate?

Midorima, surprisingly.

How does each member feel about PDA?

Takao: He loves it.

Midorima: He doesn't dislike it as much as he pretends he does.

Who’s the safer driver?

Takao is a 'severe danger on the road', according to Midorima, particularly because he loves driving fast. So, Midorima.

What’s each member flirting style?

Takao: Being a hottie. But mostly with looks and whispering dirty things into Shin-chan's ear.

Midorima: HE IS A GENTLEMAN, PEOPLE. He flirts exclusively by opening doors and kissing his hand.

Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

TAKAO LOVES IT.

Who is the cuddle initiator?

Midorima, all the time.

Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

Introverted couple, with the sole exception of the other miracles, who are the only people Midorima likes espending time with.

Who is the big/little spoon?

Takao is the little spoon. He likes how big Midorima is compared to him.

Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

Oh, Takao is a force of nature who doesn't care about reason most of the time. Midorima is always there to put an end to it.

Who’s more likely to laugh at their own jokes?

TAKAO.

Who takes longer showers?

Midorima. He has a whole ritual.

Who is “more loved” by the in-laws?

Midorima. Takao's family simply adores him as much as Takao does.

Takao is well hated by his father in law, because he's an homophobic asshole.

Who is more likely to get jealous?

Look, Takao is not very fond of the many pretty girls try to flirt with Shin-chan, but Midorima simply HATES how many people wants to fuck Takao, and he's very obvious about it even when he tries to hide it and play it cool.

What was the most surprising thing they learned about one another once they started dating?

Midorima learned he was a horny teenager.

Takao learned he didn't have to be afraid of connection.

Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

Takao stays up late, and Midorima just...carries him to bed.

Who’s messier?

Takao, but barely.

Which member is more likely to accidentally spend $300 at Target?

Midorima, because he's sugar daddy coded.

Who wanted/would want kids first?

Takao. He loves children.

Who gives piggy back rides to the other?

Midorima. If Takao is hurt or too tired or too drunk, he's always there to carry him around.

Who fell in love first?

Midorima fell so hard and fast after their first kiss.

#couple meme #if you don't start sending requests #I WILL DIE #knb #knb headcanon #kuroko no basket #knb headcanons #midorima shintarou #takao kazunari #midotaka

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no-0ne-0f-consequence · 4 months

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Warbreaker as a Story About Growing Up

I recently (within the last several months) read Warbreaker for the second time, and it struck me that through each of the main storylines (Siri, Vivinna, and Lightsong) there is a prevailing theme of maturing and taking responsibility. This theme manifests itself in different ways according to the different characters, but it can be found in all three of the plot lines. Allow me to explain.

Let’s start with the most obvious, Siri. You can pull more than one theme from Siri’s story, but I want to focus on “putting away childish things.” When we first meet Siri, she takes pleasure in being “unimportant” and the lack of responsibility that comes with it. While her siblings study and prepare for their duties, she spends her time exploring on her own and bringing colorful flowers to the children of her city (which is not encouraged by her religion). Mab the kitchen mistress calls her out for skipping her tutoring and “shirking responsibilities.” Because of this carefree attitude, when Siri is thrust into her role as the god king’s wife she is completely unprepared and forced to mature quickly. Throughout her time in the palace of Hallandren she learns responsibility and control. By gaining control over herself (example: controlling her hair while talking to the god king’s priest) she is also able to gain some control over her situation, which can be seen as she takes charge and uses her position in the palace as “vessel” to her advantage. By the end of the story she has matured quite a bit, which can most obviously seen in the control she gains over her hair color. Despite these changes she never loses her joy and wonder. Good thing, too, as Suesebron says it is one of the reasons he likes her.

Now for Vivenna. Vivienna is set up to be the complete opposite of Siri. She studies diligently, maintains complete control over her composure, and puts her duty above all else. Her father thinks of her as “composed, simple [modest], hard, and capable.” The perfect Idrian and the perfect daughter. Vivenna seems to think highly of herself as well, saying that if she had been sent to the god king she could have stopped the coming war. Vivenna’s character arc is about realizing that she doesn't know as much as she thought she did. Through the course the story she is completely humbled, and her worldview and understanding are challenged. In order for her to mature she must first realize just how immature she was in many ways. Vasher points this out when he comments on how “stupid” she was to be manipulated by Denth. But Vivenna does learn, and she does grow in maturity and wisdom to the point where she is able to free Vasher from Denth. When at the end of the story she chooses to go with Vasher it is with a new understanding of herself and the world. She knows that she can’t go back to what she was before. She has been changed too much. With her newfound maturity she chooses what path she will take, without having others plan her life for her. Interestingly, her maturity manifests itself in a way that could be considered immature as she learns to lighten up. Specifically I’m referring to when she called Vasher “wartlover the ugly” as they set off together (as out of place as this line may seem it does demonstrate her character development well). When she rejects the propriety expected of her as a princess, in a way she is rejecting the old, naive self that lived a sheltered life in the castle taught to hate the Hallandrens. She is more world-wise now and has grown into her own person.

Lastly, we have Lightsong. I thought about calling this post "Warbreaker as a coming of age story" but Lightsong never comes of age. He is a fully fledged god, after all. Still, his story begins in a similar place as Siri's. Lightsong treats his role in the government and religion of Hallandren flippantly, and says that the other gods do the same. The only duty he takes seriously is his reviewing of artwork, and even that he is tempted to brush off on occasion. His journey to maturity kicks off with his obsession of who he was in his previous life. Interestingly, "finding my identity" is a common theme in many coming of age stories. The other driver in Lightsong's story is, of course, Blushweaver. She encourages Lightsong to step up as a ruler and religious figure of Hallandren (although she does so to gain power in the court). Slowly, influenced by his troubling dreams and the memory of someone important to him, Lightsong begins to take more responsibility to the point where he takes sole control of a large portion of the lifeless army. Even so he continues to treat much of his new involvement like a game, as can be seen by his brash attack of the Phan Khal in the tunnels. The danger finally becomes real to him when Blushweaver is killed. In the end, though, Lightsong is able to accept his role as a god and give his life for Susebron, something he previously had said he would never do.

If Siri, Vivinna, and Lightsong’s stories are about taking responsibility, then one possible interpretation of Denth’s story is giving it up. Denth’s motives are never really explained by the story, but Vasher accuses him of simply selling his sword to whoever will pay. Denth does have his own goals - killing Vasher being the main one. It is also possible that Denth wanted a war between Idris and Hallandren, but he never says as much and there are no reasons given as to why it would be advantageous for him. With the information we are given, Denth can be read as using his position as a mercenary as a way of having someone else to blame. He does not decide what his employers want him to do - he simply does it. (Honestly, upon further reflection this isn't an interpretation I'm 100% sold on, but it fits the theme of this post so I thought I'd mention it.)

Returning to Susebron, with all this growing up and maturing that happens throughout the book, I would have liked to see Suesbron mature a bit more as well. By the end of the story he still seems a bit too childlike to me. Ah well. That’s another topic for another time.

P.S. I was going to cite all the chapters I reference here, but I only have the pdf download from Brandon’s website which isn’t the best for looking things up. I guess you’ll just have to trust I’m not making this all up lol

#Is there a warbreaker fandom on tumblr?#Idk but I'm going to put this out here #Warbreaker #Brandon Sanderson #the cosmere #Siri (warbreaker)#Vivenna #Vasher #Lightsong #no post of consequence

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rogueonestan · 2 years

Text

a surprise visit

pairing: matt murdock x reader

word count: 1k

summary: after not seeing each other for months, you're surprised to see matt show up in your apartment randomly one night. to your surprise, he asks you the one thing you thought he never would.

notes: this was inspired by this clip and i wanted to write for matt after being in a writer’s block for a long time. this is also loosely taken place during s3, but it’s up to your interpretation. enjoy!

main masterlist | ao3

Most people would be freaked out by the sound of their window being opened late at night.

It was something that always made your heart race when you heard the faint click of your window being closed shut. You always would grab the nearest blunt object you could find, hoping to stop the intruder before it’s too late, but your heart rate begins to go back to normal the moment you see who the intruder is. Just like right now, you grab the closest thing you can find, which really is just a glass of water on your nightstand, but that same familiar dreadful feeling you have rises from the pit of your stomach to your throat can be felt.

There’s complete silence in the apartment when you open your bedroom door. There’s not a single sound that echoes in your entire apartment, only your heavy breathing and the hardwood floor creaking underneath your toes can be heard.

The first thought that crosses your mind is the man you’ve longed to see for several months now. Maybe he’s finally decided to show up after all this time, you think to yourself but immediately disregard the thought. No, he would’ve shown up earlier if that were the case.

Maybe it was someone who finally discovered your secret identity or your relationship with a certain vigilante, and they want to do who knows what with you. That thought comes up in your head late at night more times than you like to admit. Being involved in the vigilante lifestyle is nothing short of being scary and risky, so maybe that thought isn’t as far-fetched as you think.

Then, when you finally come around the corner that separates your bedroom from the living room, ready to throw the cup in your head at whoever entered your apartment at this ungodly hour, instead, a scoff leaves your lips when you finally see who it is.

“Hi, little bug.” Hearing the familiar nickname from the familiar voice you’ve been longing to hear for so long now brings a feeling inside your stomach you can’t quite place.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Unlike in the past where you begin to finally calm down once you see the familiar masked man, but right now, his presence is doing the complete opposite as your heart continues to race.

“I need your help.” Matt tells you when you saunter over to your kitchen table to place your cup down, only a few feet away from the now unmasked man.

A scoff of disbelief leaves your lips. “My help? That’s why you finally decided to show up? Because you need my help?”

“Yes.” He simply tells you.

You’re not sure what overcame you, maybe it’s the pent-up stress and rage that you’ve felt for months now, but your body moves on its own accord. Your hand reaches out for the cup you placed on the table only a minute or two ago and then throws it in Matt’s direction. In the back of your mind, you can barely hear Matt’s pleads for you to stop, but you don’t.

When the glass falls in Matt’s grasp (thanks to his quick reflexes), hands grab whatever is within reach, a book you’ve been reading recently, the silverware you forgot to put away earlier, the random condiments you got with your takeout, the salt and pepper shakers that rest on your tabletop. None of the items you’ve thrown hurt him in any sort of way, mainly just catching him off guard with your sudden outburst, but the anger you’ve held towards him is finally released when he’s standing here in your living room, acting as if nothing has changed between the two of you and everything is normal.

“You don’t- you can’t just show up here out of the blue like nothing happened and ask for my help! You lost that right when you walked out that door months ago!” You yell at him.

“You know why I did!”

“No, I don’t! You never told me!”

“I would’ve if you let me.”

“So, it’s my fault that you left?”

“Don’t twist my words around.”

“Then why did you leave? I’m all ears.”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Of course you can’t. You were never able to tell me anything when we were together, so why start now?” You can’t help but let the bitterness in your voice to return, matching the nauseous feeling you have in your throat.

“I told you I was DareDevil.”

“Because you had no other choice. That doesn’t exactly count.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“That’s why you left?” You ask as Matt simply drops his head to the ground. “I already put myself in danger every night when I go out. How much more danger could I possibly be in?”

“The people I've been going up against, they’re a danger, even to you.”

“How dangerous are they?” You ask.

“I can’t tell you that.”

“So, let me get this straight, you want my help but you can’t tell me who these people are?”

“If I do, then I’m-“

“‘Only putting you in danger.’” You both say simultaneously.

“I know, you’ve told me that a million times before, Matt.”

“I wouldn’t be asking if it wasn’t important.”

Of course not, why else would you be here? You think to yourself, not wanting to argue any further with Matt. He never asks you for anything, in fact, it’s a rare occasion such as this when he would. It shows that he still trusts you, maybe the only person he would trust with something as important as this, so you don’t vocalize this.

Seeing him here, standing in your living room just like old times, like you’re living a memory in the past. It brings back all the memories you have together, all the good and the bad, all the screaming matches and the impromptu dates you’ve had in your living room, all of it. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the very thing you’ve been longing for since the morning after he left.

“So, what did you need help with?”

#this is my 4th attempt of uploading this so im hoping it will actually pop up in the tags this time #my writing #daredevil #daredevil x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x vigilante!reader #matt murdock x you #daredevil x vigilante!reader #daredevil x you #daredevil fic #daredevil imagine

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ourpickwickclub · 2 months

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B, you and I are always twinsies with our theories. In my mind it only makes sense that Gwen was the one that took the initiative. I really think that when she talks about the drudgery of what she thought her life was going to be, she will always thanks God extra hard that such an amazing love came her way. After being broken in two by a manipulative narcissist, and then to have the polar opposite of that darkness, this funny, sweet, generous, self-deprecating man that made her laugh and that he was suddenly available! Oh my, I can’t imagine the serendipity!! Remember “I’m just trying to get Blake’s attention!”? She kidded herself that he was her distraction (I think she probably needed that ruse to give her the gumption), but girl knew quickly she found her everything and it must have been scary!! Even though Blake knew she was more than a cool rocker chick, I think he thought she was so far outta his league. I appreciated @Aperfectrebound”s take on everything. I believe it when her take on those early days was that there was lots of chemistry and confusion, especially on Gwen’s part (Blake , even broken by ML, was all in according to her and I believe it!). Anyway, sorry for the Monday morning rambling, but I can never get enough of where this all began and how amazing it is that they found each other 🥰

I love it. I really think Gwen had a secret crush on Blake… and vice versa but both were loyal spouses who wouldn’t have dreamed of acting on a harmless crush. But what you think about you bring about… and then Blake announced his divorce to the other coaches right before season 9 started filming and Gwen knew she was in the same place, and wow, did she flirt in cutest, sweetest, most uplifting way.

It’s a little evil, but it cracks me up how GR kept telling interviewers that he canceled his spring and summer tours to work on his marriage, but that was a waste! Well, it certainly was after Gwen found out Blake was single. I actually don’t think Gwen and GR would have been able to work this one out, but it still makes me laugh that he was trying in his own narcissist, way and then, Blake happened. A little taste of his own medicine, and a much less severe way.

- B

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batmanlovesnirvana · 2 years

Text

Some random Battinson!Bruce Wayne headcanons :

- awkward as heck but at the same time not- it depends on the situation and the person

- sassy

- extremely stubborn... he inherited it from his darling mama

- had a Star Wars phase when he was 9

- he was really spoiled but his parents always lectured him to be thankful and to value everything

- he was very popular in middle school and was liked by everyone, and had a lot of friends

- but he was still an introvert and liked his alone time too

- teacher favorite

- after his parents death, he became a loner

- he didn’t want to talk to any of his friends anymore

- had a lot of fights at school

- Alfred was fed up everytime the school would call

- doesn’t like small talk, he goes straight to the point

- absolutely love car races ( it’s actually canon in the prequel book)

- has a passion for mecanics ( also canon )

- his fave car is his grandfather corvette obviously ( the one we see in the movie at the funeral scene )

- did actually date as a teenager but it was never that serious, he was more focused on his project for gotham

- was a straight A’s student without trying

- his fave subject was chemistry

- look a lot like his mother but also his father at the same time

- he inherited his mother jawline and hair

- and his father eyes and nose

- was really close to his grandparents from his dad side

- they died when he was seven so he doesn’t remembers but judging by the pictures on the fireplace he seems to really have loved them

- they were the one who named him according to Alfred

- never knew anything from his maternal grandparents other than the fact that they were dead way before he was born

- for severe unknown reasons he didn’t really see much of his mother family, apart from his uncles and aunts.

- Kate is his fave cousin but that’s not new

- have a lot of distant cousins but most of them live in Europe

- but he was really close to his family in general, they used to have a lot of gatherings

- all stopped when his parents died...

- didn’t mind being an only son bc he had his cousins

- but secretly used to beg his mom for a sibling ;)

- his comfort smell is his mother perfume ( lavender )

- and Alfred cookies ofc

- his comfort clothing is his father Harvard sweater

- he used to call his mother ‘mummy’ or ‘mama’ and his father ‘papa’

- sometimes he goes to their room, untie the chains, and smell the perfumes of his mom, or her favorite cardigan that still to this day have her scent

- have a few of his own suits, most of them are his fathers

- fave sport is soccer don’t ask I just have a feeling lol

- he was always fascinated by his family history

- his father used to tell him a lot of the family Wayne history and each time, he listened cerefully and begged for more

- i mean if he wanted more he could’ve gone to their library, but the way his father used to tell the tales of his great grandparents and ancestors always had much more of a personal touch. and his voice was very soothing

- he's actually a descendant from the English royal family ( again canon )

- his mom was a great gardener and always took care of her plants

- her favorites were lilies of the valley and bethlehem star

- she says it’s because they made her think of his father and the other him

- Lily of the valley : sweetness and purity of heart

Bethlehem star : symbol of hope and happiness

- Martha also loved art and fashion

- she used to paint

- she was really a fashion icon in Gotham

- so he was always elegantly dressed as a child

- His father was the opposite

- his tie was always crooked and didn’t know how to dress correctly even when his was younger, the maids used to scold him because of that

- he remembers how each morning Martha used to do his tie for him when needed and scold him but he would always cut her with a kiss

- i mean he worked in a scrub bc he was a surgeon

- and when he’s at home, he always wore his pyjamas and robe

- Bruce wear it sometimes

- He is absolutely like his father in term of fashion and if it wasn’t for Alfred he really wouldn’t care

- his father was passionate by photography and books

- Bruce remembered how his dad used to take photos of his mom and him

- the tower is, more specifically the library, filled with pictures of his family but mostly his mom and him lol

- he was always amazed about his parents love for each other

- he dreams of having a love like they had

- he actually is very romantic

- he inherited it from his dad

- he promised himself that if he will ever marry someday, he would propose with his mother ring

- Alfred used to give him sweets before dinner discreetly

- Play chess a lot with him

- he never wins

- Dory was his mother personal maid

- she was one of the midwives when he was born ;)

- she was the one who taught him how to cook

- because yes he knows how to cook, it’s a common skill to have

- i know everyone says that he’s a cat person but he gives me more of a dog person idk why

Might do a part two...

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne headcanon #bruce wayne imagine #the batman #batman #dc movies #bruce wayne x reader #gotham #the batman 2022 #dc comics #dc universe #the batman headcanon #thomas wayne #martha wayne #alfred pennyworth #wayne manor #batcave #battinson

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blankerthought · 5 months

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Planning vs Reacting: A Yuri-Yaoi Take On Two Superhero Relationships

By blank

[a/n: putting this essay on here too for convenience and for @aelyris who wanted to see it, you're a gem. also partially going under a cut because i did write like 1.2k on this]

Though many people are aware of western superhero comics- Spiderman, Batman, Superman, to name a few- generally it’s the characters alone who are known. Their relationships to one another are understood through reading the source material, despite them changing from many different interpretations across the decades and writers that have taken it upon themselves to put their own flavor on the text. Of these relationships, this essay shall focus on two specific ones, both of which share the same character of Bruce Wayne (also known as Batman). The oldest relationship has been known for decades since their first meeting in 1939, as it is with another juggernaut of the genre, Superman. The youngest, however, has only been around since 2020, with Ghostmaker’s appearance in Batman #100. This essay looks to expand on these relationships through the lense of yuri and yaoi.

According to what tama (2023) writes in Yaoi is for people who bit their peers in childhood, Yaoi Magazine, Volume 2, our average view of what makes something yuri has been misconstrued and made anew into something more palatable to the general public through online jokes. "And this too is yuri" is a common phrase, repeated many times throughout several online spaces, and most often referring to a simple definition of yuri in which any relationship, as long as it didn't involve two women, could be yuri.

In their essay, tama states that this concept is held primarily by non-yuri fans, because this belief invalidates the basic idea of yuri; that is, passion. Yuri is characterized by intense emotion, thought out, scrutinized and sometimes, though not always, acted upon, between two women. Yuri is, however, not limited to women; yuri is an overwhelming presence of what could be called obsession in a relationship. This is a contrast to yaoi, which is not defined by a lack of passion, but by a lack of thought. Yaoi contrasts so sharply with yuri, the yang to its ying, because it most often presents itself through action. Rushing to, as tama elegantly states, "gripping a cute boy by the back of his neck and shaking him until he whimpers", and not thinking of the consequences of the action.

In the context of superbat (the relationship name for Superman and Batman) and ghostbat (relationship name for Ghostmaker and Batman), it’s clear to see where these characteristics shine through the most. Superman is a smart man, sure, but what matters most is that he is first and foremost kind. Superman is a man of action and reaction, the man who swoops in front of a train to avoid letting it hit a child, not thinking of alternate paths. He’s the light to Batman’s darkness, the action to his planning, the charming country boy to the local orphan billionaire. There are few writers out in the world who have avoided the alluring call of opposite and complementary aesthetics, and superbat as a whole are not among those few examples.

From Action Comics #1000 (Early June 2018) with art by Jim Lee (pencils), Scott Williams (inks), and Hi-Fi Design (colors)

On the other hand, Ghostmaker is a master planner on par with Batman; his rival, his parallel. Many aspects of his life as a vigilante are a direct callback to Batman’s, including The Haunt, a.k.a Batcave 2.0, in which he even stores a Spinosaurus to compare to Batman’s T-Rex (and his is bigger). Every aspect of him is in one way or another intertwined with Batman’s. As is revealed in Batman #100 and elaborated upon in the Batman: The Knight, Ghostmaker and Batman have known each other since they were teenagers, and spent much time learning side-by-side from the greatest masters known from several disciplines. Despite their select differences- namely Ghostmaker’s lack of a moral code and many emotions, in contrast with Batman’s famed rules and his endless emotionality, be that grief, rage, or love- the two are evenly matched and consider each other their equal and rival.

Batman is, himself, an almost immutable center of yuri. He is passion, grief, love, and a thirst for justice that is only fueled more and more by those same emotions. His crusade is born out of an avoidable tragedy that he refuses to let others suffer through, if he can, and his way of accomplishing that relies primarily on his skill and intellect. Batman is known for his million contingencies. He plans ahead, for everything that he possibly can, and that razor-sharp focus lives at the core of who he is, as well as making him a great example of everything yuri is.

An understanding of yaoi is essential to superbat, as is an understanding of yuri to ghostbat. There is little space for rationality in superbat’s actions together, despite Batman’s attempts to direct them; Superman’s emotions and recklessness are rewarded in kind with Batman showing himself in a more vulnerable way towards him, allowing them to circle closer to one another and stand together in the same ground. Despite the many differences between them, their shared emotion, the need to reach out and touch, connecting themselves to one another, is what defines their relationship and marks them as unequivocally yaoi.

Contrastingly, ghostbat is a relationship that balances on a razor wire edge between passion and logic. They’re similar and knowledgeable about each other enough to calculate almost every action and reaction that the other would take, but that almost is what gives them enough space to challenge one another. They’re both planners, people who constantly contemplate what the next step should be. Despite that, many of their interactions are bursting with passion, with their need to have each other’s acknowledgement, the desire to touch but the refusal to do so unless it’s all carefully thought out beforehand. They are obsessed with one another in a way that yuri portrays perfectly.

The use of a primarily eastern concept such as the dichotomy of yuri and yaoi may seem odd in explaining two non-canonical gay relationships in a western comic, but it is ever more prevalent in our present times. Yaoi and yuri are everywhere, after all- even when there is nothing. Perhaps especially where there is nothing. This essay hopes to help explain why this concept is helpful towards the analysis of any relationship, but especially in this, where we are present with drastically different foils that both oppose the same character in different ways. And despite their differences, both pairs reach a state of equilibrium just the same.

Sources:

tama, (2023) Yaoi is for people who bit their peers in childhood, Yaoi Magazine, Vol.2 (tshirt et. al).

Comic Volumes Batman: The Knight (1-10), Batman #100, Batman #109, Superman Action Comics #1000.

A special thanks to the people I spent about twenty minutes explaining yaoi-yuri to, the discord server that got a no context snippet and helped me figure out What Am I Even Saying, and the people I was definitely supposed to be paying attention to today instead of spending that time writing this. I have no regrets.

#lo's stuff #this is both the funniest thing i've written and not funny at all #i HAVE to write more yaoi essays tshirt et al you're all my heroes #anyway #ghostbat #minhkhoa khan #superbat #superman #batman #yaoi academics #i'm making that one a tag i need it for organization purposes #i see too many good yaoi academia not to want to find them again #ghostmaker #dc #yeah i'm maintagging it. look at my yaoi-yuri academic boy

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vala-dreams · 1 year

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So like I haven't completely thought it out but-

✨DP x HTTYD AU✨

In this au, Berk gains a few new residents, namely the Fentons. Originating from faraway lands, Jack and Maddie have sailed the oceans in their youth, searching for ghosts and ghouls and all sorts of paranormal spooks until they found the Barbaric archipelago and realised that there was way more spooky things going on here than anywhere else in the world.

They spent some more time sailing the archipelago before ultimately deciding to set up shop at Berk, which saw the most paranormal activity and was located closer to the foggy, mysterious Helheims gate than any other inhabitable isle.

Now what did the barbaric archipelago have in spades that the rest of the world only had in slivers? Paranormal activity. Paranormal activity and dragons.

In fact, according to Fenton research which is 100% accurate always don't worry about it, the places that see the highest levels of spooky happenings are also the places that see the most dragons. There must be some connection between dragons and spirits, they are sure, they just don't know what.

And hence the Fentons decide to settle down in Berk, where vikings and dragons libe together in not-harmony. Well to be honest, they don't live together per se, they stay in the same area code and throw hands on sight I guess.

The vikings are not initially all that welcoming of the Fentons, never outright disapproving of them, but they were given the cold shoulder quite often. It was painfully obvious that they had never seen a dragon up close, and their teenager like eagerness to see one made it even more so. Everyone had thought that they'd go running in the opposite direction after witnessing their first dragon raid.

And then the dreaded day of the raid finally arrived and the Fentons took out two zipplebacks at the same time. On the first day.

Accepting them wasn't half as hard after that.

Fast forward a few years till Jazz and Danny are born and Danny is fourteen.

The Fentons are a part of the village, despite still generally being regarded as weird and strange for wasting so much time with weird contraptions and spirits. But they kill their fair share of dragons and earn their keep, so its all fair and square. Everything is fine.

Everything except their son, Danny.

He's been off lately. Skipping dragon training, running off at the oddest of moments, especially during raids and still returning all banged up, despite never even fighting anymore. Widely regarded as a coward and freeloader, pretty much everyone disapproves of him.

Everyone except the chief's son, Hiccup.

Though they hadn't really spoken to each other before, Danny's newfound incompetence in dragon killing does garner sympathy from Hiccup. You can call it the connection between the two biggest failures of their respective generation. And it doesn't hurt that Danny and his sister were the only ones who were nice to him most days.

The movie goes on as in canon, Hiccup shoots down toothless, finds him in the cove, starts slowly befriending him, etc etc.

Meanwhile, Danny has been busy beating up ghosts. His parents were right when they said there was a connection between dragons and ghosts. Dragons are creatures of the in between, the domain between life and death. They are not of this world, or the other, but they exist in both. This meant that they could potentially travel to and from this othe world. Using dragon's blood and some spellwork, they came up with several different portals to this other realm, none of which actually worked. Especially this new one, which didn't even spit out billowing green smoke like all the other ones.

Until Danny walked over it and tripped. Apparently the portal needed a sacrifice. Fun.

And then he died but not really so now he's a half ghost boy desperately trying to not let his parents find out.

Also did I mention that portal did not close and the ghosts turn up whenever there's a raid? Yeah. They do that now. So now he has to run off to the portal in the caves below their house whenever there's a raid to prevent them from harming others.

Eventually he decides to find out what's the deal with ghosts showing up only during dragon raids and decides to turn intangible and fly on over to Helheims gate on night. And that night happens to be the same night hiccup and toothless fly too close to the nest and toothless gets hypnotized.

I'll decide what happens after that in the morning.

I'll probably also attempt to write this au

God I need sleep

#danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #jack fenton #jazz fenton #ghosts #httyd #how to train your dragon #httyd au #dp x httyd #dp x httyd crossover #danny is still a half ghost #ill fit all the chracters in here later im way too tired rn #tall jazz #because that is canon #danny and hiccup are just vibing #breaking news: two neighborhood disappointments adopt each other

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aspoonofsugar · 1 year

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Yang's Jungian Archetypes

This is a follow-up and a correction to this meta and it references this analysis by @hamliet, as well. Long story short, I am writing a suuuuper long Yang post (wonderfully complex girl) and I gathered some thoughts on how Jungian symbolism is used in her case.

JUNGIAN ARCHETYPES AND RWBY

Jungian archetypes are universal ideas that can be found in stories and culture worldwide (according to Jung anyway). Think about tropes like The Hero, the Helper, the Inner Child, the Anima and the Shadow. They are all archetypes.

Now, Jung found several of this universal tropes. To avoid making things more complicated than what they are, let's say that for this meta we need only 2 sets of archetypes (most of which overlap):

The 4 main archetypes that should describe how human psychology and society work. They are the Shadow, the Anima, the Persona and the Self.

The 4 archetypes Jung links to the alchemical process (yep, Jung was a nerd). Jung sees alchemy (the creation of the philosopher stone) as a metaphor for self-individualization and associates an archetype to each phase of the alchemical process. They are the Black phase (the Shadow), the White phase (the Anima), the Yellow phase (the Wise Woman) and the Red phase (the Self).

You can already see 2 things. First of all, the 4 phases of alchemy are called after the same colors of the RWBY girls. This is not by chance: RWBY is an alchemical story and makes use of alchemical motifs, as @hamliet explains here. So, each girl embodies a phase and all together they make the philosopher stone (RWBY aka ruby lol). Secondly, the archetypes are almost the same with one exception: the Persona is different from the Wise Woman.

Now, RWBY is a very Jungian story (as many stories are) and uses Jungian archetypes a lot. Specifically, each girl embodies a different archetype and this is true both when it comes to the 4 most famous tropes and to the 4 alchemical ones. In the first meta linked, I associated each girl to one of the 4 main archetypes (Shadow, Persona, Anima and Self), but I was wrong, so here comes the correct version:

Blake is the Shadow (obvs): she represents the Black Phase, her Semblance is called Shadow, her Theme Song is From Shadows and the Inner Beast is another name of this archetype. The Shadow is everything that a person hides or represses, both positive and negative. It fits Blake who is pushed in the darkness of society and whose arc is about learning to take the spotlight when needed.

Weiss is the Anima/Animus: the Anima/Animus is the masculine and the feminine and what is Weiss's main motif? Yep, Queen and Knight. This idea is developed throughout the evolution of Weiss's summons. The Knight is the Animus that completes her Anima. When they fight side by side they seem a Queen and a Warrior in battle together. The Queen Lancer is the integration between Anima and Animus: a queen and a lancer (a kind of knight). This also fits with Weiss being the White Phase of course. Psychologically, integrating the Anima/Animus means finding balance, which is Weiss's goal: for her heart and mind to be One.

Ruby is the Self: the Self is the sum of all the other archetypes and it represents the person as a whole. Ruby's Red Like Roses is a song that includes all the other girls and all the girls together make RWBY (Ruby). It works perfectly with our Little Red Riding Hood being the Red Phase as well.

What about Yang? In her case, the Persona and the Wise Woman do not overlap. However, our Yellow Beauty finds a way to fit both archetypes.

YANG AS THE PERSONA

The Persona is whatever is projected outside for others to see. It is the mask we wear in social interactions and generically everything that is in the light. Because of this, it is considered the opposite of the Shadow.

Does it fit Yang? I think so for 3 reasons.

-Yang has a light motif. Her name means Sunny Little Dragon, she is the only girl associated with the Sun instead of the Moon and she references the Light in the Yin Yang symbolism.

-It fits her complementarity with Blake. Blake is the Shadow, while Yang the Persona. Blake must show herself more and come into the light, while Yang must face her inner shadows. The climax of the Mistral Arc makes this foiling obvious.

Blake is on the surface and in charge of an army (aka a public figure). Her defining scene in the Battle of Haven is her dragging the true Adam into the light:

And everything happens in front of a crowd.

Yang is instead underground and hidden from everyone else. Her climatic scene is an emotional discussion with her mother where she faces her internal turmoil, hurt and vulnerability. By the end of it, nobody knows what happened, but Yang herself.

-Even if counter-intuitive, it actually fits Yang psychologically as well. On the surface, Yang appears as this confident extrovert girl that wears everything on her sleeve. Still, she is one of the characters that represses the most.

You know, once I read a comment somewhere that stated how all the other girls have these deep songs that comment their interiority and journeys, while Yang's music is about how awesome she is :''') Well, I doubt this is by chance: Yang tells us very little about herself in her songs, doesn't she? She presents this image of strength and confidence, but it is obvious she is an incredibly deep character with a rich inner journey. However, it does not emerge in her music. She wears a mask, while singing. She wears a Persona.

And yet, I Burn states it pretty clearly:

Come at me And you'll see I'm more than meets the eye

Yang is not what she seems and behind her Persona (the Himbo :P) there is a completely different archetype: the Wise Woman.

YANG AS THE WISE WOMAN

The Yellow Trailer - I Burn gives us a hint of what the Wise Woman stands for in Jungian psychology:

The unconscious changes its dominant character and appears in a new symbolic form representing the Self, the innermost nucleus of the personality. In the dreams of a woman this centre is usually personified as a superior female figure – a priestess, sorceress, earth mother, or goddess of nature or love.

The Wise Woman is a first unconscious representation of the Self, so Yang's song in the trailer contains all the other girls'. Wait, wasn't Ruby the one representing the Self? She is, but Ruby and Yang are interconnected when it comes to alchemical symbolism. As a matter of fact, the Yellow Phase is often considered a part of the Red Phase. In RWBY this connection is solved by making Yang and Ruby sisters. In a sense, they share their major conflict (Summer's disappearence and the effect it had on the 2 girls). At the same time, the Yellow Phase and the Red Phase are not exactly the same, just like the Wise Woman and the Self. The Yellow is a stage that leads to the Red, which is the end of the journey. Similarly, the Wise Woman is a very first glance at one's Self. It is a first step into individuation.

Specifically, the Wise Woman is the overcoming of the mother that comes with self-awareness, so Knowledge. It clearly fits Yang whose whole arc is about dealing with her 2 moms and searching for answers:

Yang: To this day, I still want to know what happened to my mother and why she left me.

However, there is more. Jung discusses how every archetype has a negative and a positive side. Think about Tarot Cards and how the same card can mean good or bad things. Archetypes are the same. When it comes to the Wise Woman, Jung defines it in 2 ways.

On the one hand the Wise Woman has her counterpart in the figure of the witch, or as the psychologist calls her "the terrible mother".

On the other hand there is this:

"the sky-woman is the positive, the bear the negative aspect of the 'supraordinate personality', which extends the conscious human being upwards into the celestial and downwards into the animal regions."

The Wise Woman/Terrible Mother and the Sky Woman/Bear imagery fits respectively Raven and Yang.

WISE WOMAN/TERRIBLE MOTHER VS SKY WOMAN/BEAR

Raven is both the Wise Woman and the Terrible Mother. She offers answers and has information nobody else knows. Still, she is also a bad mother, who abandoned her new born daughter and has no problems using Yang as bait for her own sake.

Yang is the Sky Woman. A dragon that soars:

I've found the strength to grow so much more A whisper to a roar No more crying It's time for me to soar

She is also the Bear, though. Her Goldilocks allusion presents her as both Goldilocks and the Junior Bear, which is why her outfits are all brown. Not to mention how she keeps fighting Ursai and that in her trailer she defeats Snowhite and Red Rose (the Malachite Twins).

The twins' fairy tale speaks of 2 sisters that befriend a Bear (Junior), who is eventually revealed to be a Golden Prince. Yang enters the Malachites' story and conquers it by taking central stage. She herself plays the part of the Golden Prince who defeats her Bear part (her curse).

In short, Yang is caught between the sky (the dragon) and the earth (the bear), just like Raven has traits of both the Wise Woman and the Terrible Mother.

Both women are struggling with their positive and negative traits. Which one will "reach the celestial" and which one will be stuck in the "animal regions"?

The answer comes with their confrontation in the battle of Haven. Their "fight" is after all about deciding who is the real Maiden of Knowledge (Maiden of Haven) on a thematic level. In other words, who is the real Wise Woman (Sky Woman)?

The ending makes it clear:

Yang enters the vault and takes the relic, which means she finds Knowledge. She is the real Maiden symbolically speaking. She is the Woman of Haven and is wiser than her mother even with no powers.

Raven instead remains stuck in her animal form (she transforms into a raven) and runs away:

She cements herself as a Terrible Mother:

Yang: Because you're afraid of Salem!!! And if you thought having Maiden powers put a target on your back, imagine what she'll do when she finds out you have a Relic. She'll come after you with everything she has. Or she can come after me. And I'll be standing there, waiting for her.

(...)

Raven: I… I'm sorry…

When it comes to choose between her own safety and Yang's she can't bring herself to do the right choice.

In conclusion, the climax of the Mistral Arc is nothing, but Yang facing her own negative Archetype in Raven. She overcomes her mom and steps into the role of the Wise Woman, that she is still growing into.

#rwby #yang xiaolong #blake belladonna #raven branwen #rwby meta #my meta

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waffliesinyoface · 3 months

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re: that last reblog

it's not focused on that person in specific, because several people have reblogged/replied/posted in tags things along the same lines, or talking about boruto (why) about fairness, and, um.

we are watching the same show, right...?

where in the hell does anyone get the idea that the chuunin exams are supposed to be "fair" or "balanced"? that's not what they're testing for. Especially not in the 2nd exam.

The first exam is being sneaky, not giving yourself away, seeing how well you do under pressure, reconnaissance, etc.

The second exam is "live fire training exercise meant to simulate a real mission". It is in fact encouraged for teams to ambush and murder teams they dont think they could beat in a fair fight. Canonically, some teams team up with each other and pick off other groups near the tower, not in ordet to get scrolls (which they already have) but to get rid of the opposition. That is, according to the examiners, good ninja-ing.

The third exam is "you have to fight this person flat out, you can't avoid it, how are you going to survive?" But they know who they're fighting, and have a month to prepare. If it was fair, they would only reveal the matchups AT the tournament. But they specifically tell them who they're going to fight so that they can make counter strategies or potentially sabotage each other.

If you treat it like a regular tournament, like naruto does, you fail. Because they're not testing for that. They're not testing for strength they're testing to see if you are capable of leading missions. I thought this was obvious.

#naruto #THIS IS THE CHILD SOLDIER UNIVERSE. PLEASE UNDERSTAND

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whollyhapa · 1 year

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Mutant--A Namor Fanfiction Ch. 4

Christ, does this feel unnecessary.

Shuri’s attendants did a number on you. From the heavy bands wrapping your biceps and ankles, to the gold ring curled around your bottom lip, to the swaths of shimmery fabric snaking tightly around your body, to the jeweled sandals clasped snug around your ankles—you can’t decide which part of the outfit you resent more. They couldn’t even leave you your hair—you normally throw the top half up in a topknot, but now it’s down completely, shampooed and brushed and glistening down your back, with two tiny braids trailing down your temples.

You scowl and turn around in the mirror for the fifth time. The white dress is too tight, too gaudy, too exposing along your thighs. The jewelry sits too heavy on your skin. The only thing you can’t seem to form an opinion about are the elegant gold and black braces that wrap around the base of your wings and creep like meshed webbing up your scapular and covert feathers. It had taken some convincing, but the queen’s evil fashion attendants had assured you that the 3D printed vibranium design still allowed for flight, at least. You flap your wings experimentally.

You feel like the competition’s finest show poodle.

And you really, really need to take a moment for some self evaluation. How on God’s green fucking earth did you wind up here again? Now you remembered—you’re about to reencounter the same underwater king that had breached an accord to drag you from a peaceful drowning, and it’s the same man you’re about to strive to avoid for an entire day.

You think about the time you could be spending today testing your wings again, touching clouds again, and you bristle.

—-------------------------------------------------

You’re still seething as you pop a candied grape in your mouth two hours later, crunching slowly as you ponder how you possibly let yourself land in this situation.

You’re several hours late to the banquet; introductions and grand entrances are over already, the food’s been whisked away, and multilingual chatter fills the great hall you stand in. A giant Wakandan flag drapes proudly from the ceiling, decorated with glittering strings of pearls and sea netting. Tall curved windows arc over either side of the giant hall to shed ample light over the scene, and you feel like an ant in a bubble.

You haven’t moved from your shadowy corner nestled to the far right of the hall’s only entrance. Scanning the crowd for a hulking bronze god, you realize you can’t see many people from this angle, but honestly the less people can see you the better.

You crunch down on another grape as your eyes follow a blue figure wearing peculiar guards filled with water over her mouth and traps. A Talokanian. You should be more startled by the fishperson, but you think the freakishness you’ve seen in the pits of Serbia’s black-market science stifles your awe.

You pop the final grape in your mouth. God, they’re really blue, though.

The Talokanian turns suddenly and catches you staring, but instead of looking away, you hold her gaze—and you behold each other for a moment, like neither one of you can decide which of you looks weirder. The Talokanian is the first to lose the staring competition, and she turns and slips back into the crowd of textiles and dresses.

You think you’ve just been compromised.

Still, an hour passes uneventfully, with no sight of Namor. Eventually a group of elegantly dressed performers, some holding large drums, files into the banquet hall and starts setting up the instruments near your little alcove of shadow. You take the opportunity to slip along the wall toward the opposite end of the hall’s doors, where a wide stretch of balcony doors are swung open to let in the waning afternoon sun.

You breathe easier once you’re outside. Orange clouds drift high above a stunning, stretching view of the city below. You lean your stomach against the balcony railing, breathing deeply. The sky plus the peculiar architecture makes for an otherworldly scene, and as you watch two distant birds swoop and dive together over the horizon, fantasies of flight tonight over this magnificent city capture your mind again. So much so, you forget your crucial vigilance for a moment—and it costs you.

“Do they not let you fly, in Alada ?” rumbles a thick voice approximately three fucking feet right behind you.

You whirl around instantly, punching out a curse. Sneak attacks were something you carried out, not something that ever happened to you. “Jesus, you’re quiet,” you hiss at Namor.

You have to crane your neck to look up at the king. If you thought the man was flashy the first time you saw him, what he wears now is sensationally fucking opulent. An elegantly patterned loincloth drapes from his hips below a thick golden belt. Even more bejeweled armor wraps his arms and shins. Wide bands of metal and pearls connect the tapered gold pauldrons resting on either of his shoulders. A shoulder cape of thick ornate fabric sweeps across his chest and drapes down his back, and the headdress he dons is nothing short of spectacular—all feathers and stones crowning out of the head of a golden serpent that encompasses his strong features on all sides. You have to search the shadows of his face to find his eyes.

And there it is. That mile-long relentless amber stare boring directly through your pupils and into the back of your skull. He looks at you like he’s halfway between curiosity and a desire to eat you alive.

He repeats the question. “Does the queen not let you fly?”

You press your wings against the balcony railing and squint at him, deciding to give him some truth. You can’t tell him Shuri is very possibly using you as a political pawn in the upkeep of an alliance, but what can you say? The man is intriguing.

“I can, starting today. Queen rules.”

“Queen rules,” Namor echoes, nodding solemnly. You watch as he raises his right hand up to his face to take a bite of the whole unpeeled mango resting in his fist; it looks miniature in his large slender fingers. He chews for a moment, then closes his eyes and swallows. “I still resent the surface world. All that it stands to destroy.” His eyes open and train on you. “But the fruit of your lands? Sublime. It tastes forbidden.”

You shift on your feet, wondering how the hell to respond to a comment like that, when Namor gestures with a sticky hand behind you. “Your wings. The metal. They look…regal. You will fly today?”

Turning your head to gaze out at the tangerine sky again, you give an affirmative nod. You look back at him as he takes another bite, then down to his sandaled feet. Deciding to venture into reluctantly-polite conversation, you let loose a question. “Do your wings grant you flight? They’re…” you trail off, losing the non-offensive word on your tongue.

Namor flashes a short grin, and as he looks down at his ankles you let yourself relax marginally. “Not quite as big as yours, next to each other now,” he admits. “But yes. They are strong. They help to balance in flight.” His eyes flick back to yours once more—like if he tears his gaze away for too long you might disappear. “Perhaps we will fly together.”

You give him a tight-lipped smile while you weigh the notion in your mind. Flying, flying alone, gave you a personal high unmatched by any drug on earth—and your body unwillingly knows a few. To share the skies with someone else, to coast a wind current alongside another? Nothing short of intimacy—and suddenly this guy seems all-too intrusive again.

“Perhaps,” is all you softly say. This time you hold the eye contact.

Namor must sense the way your eyes have shifted. Or the way you square your shoulders. Or the way you press your wings tighter to your body. Because the bastard furrows his brows and looks directly back at you as he brings his arm up again, parts his mouth, and licks a long stripe up his forearm, collecting the sweet juice spilling down his elbow. You flick your eyes away from his tongue and swallow.

What the fuck?

“Perhaps tonight,” Namor adds, his register low and in the back of his throat. Now you feel heat creeping up your spine, spreading through your winged appendages and shooting up your neck and face. It’s a weird sensation, but it feels closest to rage, so you run with that.

“Slow your roll, cowboy. It’s just pleasantries,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest.

Distant cheering and whooping picks up back in the great hall’s interior, and the powerful beat of drums suddenly fills your ears. Even from this distance it vibrates beneath your feet, and you’re briefly thankful for the way the fast cadence masks the thrumming of your heart. It still doesn’t distract enough from the ongoing chokehold of a stare Namor is still fixing on you.

“Wakanda has granted Talokan’s nobility three days to roam its lands in peace, in alada.” Namor speaks slowly, raising his voice over the rhythmic pounding of drums. “You won’t get rid of me so swiftly. Our kind…our kind is isolated. Forsaken.” He tilts his head back, feathers gliding with the headdress as he looks to the heavens, then back down to you.

“I hope to find you in the skies tonight.”

With another low bow, Namor turns and strides away, back towards the stretch of balcony doors. His shoulder cape billows, gliding behind him. The same blue warrior, the one you had a staring match with, waits for him silently at the nearest open entrance; and when he reaches her, they disappear behind the reflection of the glass and into the rhythmic fray inside the hall.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, then shake your wings out of frustration. Something about your second interaction mirrors your first, in the same unsettling, unnerving feeling it leaves you stewing in, deep in your gut. How have you faced relentless torment from such poor excuses for human beings, and yet no living thing has managed to crawl under your skin like this spandexed Hermes?

You think you’ve had enough pleasantries for the evening. That interaction should meet Shuri’s talk-to-a-king quota tonight, right? You hustle off the balcony and once again slip along the sides of the wall to the exit, and as your legs hurriedly transport you back to the privacy of your quarters, you crave a clear sky now more than ever.

I hope to find you in the skies tonight.

Oh, you’ll test your wings again tonight. And leave the man from the Atlantic fluttering in your dust.

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