#wiesel

[lesbiandaveyjacobs]

[captain-price-returns]

Wiesel I with a Rheinmetall RMK30 30mm recoilless autocannon in two different configurations

[girlactionfigure]

In honor of Jewish American Heritage Month, we are proud to highlight the remarkable legacy of Elie Wiesel — a Jewish-American writer, professor, political activist, Holocaust survivor, and Nobel Laureate. Though Elie passed away in July 2016, his words and lifelong commitment to justice continue to inspire.

May his memory forever be a blessing. 

[lemonteaforall]

newsies’ apartments - pt 3

wiesel and the delanceys. oh boy this is gonna be difficult.

they live in a two bedroom, two bathroom apartment on the first floor. wiesel didn’t want to bother himself with taking the elevator or stairs. it’s pretty bare, they don’t have much stuff since they move around a lot (they take on sketchy jobs and have to hide from authorities). what furniture they do have is mostly stolen (i still hc them as sketchy guys im not sorry)

the living room has a beaten down couch that was there when they moved in. morris hung a punching bag from the ceiling, which him and oscar use a lot. wiesel often shoos them out when he watches the tv though. the tv is a decent size, and propped up with a sturdy wooden table. a coat rack by the door holds everyone’s hats and jackets, along with keys.

the kitchen is nearly empty, a microwave and coffee maker are the only appliances that get used. nobody cooks, sometimes oscar makes frozen dinners for everyone, but nothing more than that. the table in the kitchen has scratches on it, caused by oscar and morris messing around with knives. a deck of cards is left on the table. wiesel plays poker with his nephews sometimes, and wins every time.

the hallway is completely bare, except for one small painting on the wall. morris hung it up to hide the hole he punched in the wall. oscar keeps threatening to tell wiesel about it, but hasn’t. yet.

the bathroom has one of those glass door showers. (random hc: the delancey’s take cold showers). wiesel doesn’t use this bathroom, he has his own. so it’s fairly messy.

oscar and morris have twin beds on either end of their room. each half belongs to one of them, and they even hung up a curtain that they close sometimes, when they’re getting irritated with each other. oscar’s bed has mountains of pillows and blankets on his bed. he’s got a few puzzles and card games stored under his bed. morris’ side of the room has several posters and comics strewn about. a pair of brass knuckles lay on his dresser. the boys share some weights, kept in the middle of the room.

wiesel got the larger room, with an add-on bathroom. he has a safe in the corner, kept under an old tarp. it actually doesn’t look too conspicuous, as there’s a bunch of old boxes and junk around it. wiesel got a vanity too, his nephews make fun of him for it, but he swears it’s for convenience. the bed is a king size, with a large weighted quilt on it.

okay so there’s more i wanted to put, but i can’t write this one any more lol. i can’t for the life of me seem to characterize the delanceys in a way that feels accurate.

i’ll write davey and jack’s place next

[noxexistant]

notice on the world distribution window

[fae-ridgeite]

Okay, so I do currently unfortunately have Art block. ,:[! Here are some sketches of how I see the Delanceys. The first one is Morris and the second is Oscar. I headcanon Oscar to be the younger sibling and Otto, Wiesel’s son and the Delancey’s cousin from the Hard Promises Script, to be the eldest of the trio. In my head, Otto is 23, Morris is 21, and Oscar is 19.

[thewritersofdeceased]

"FAMILY IS TO DIE FOR."

summery ;; the death of the older delancey brother didn't affect everybody. it didn't affect how the newsies acted. it didn't affect how wiesel acted. no. it affected how morris, of all people acted.

1/2

HERE LIES OSCAR DELANCEY.

Beloved Brother.

“FAMILY IS TO DIE FOR”

That’s what it said on the tombstone. That’s what Morris had to read. His baby brother. The youngest of the family. Gone in a heartbeat. Gone trying to make sure his older brother was okay. Sacrificed himself to make sure that Morris was alive. Oscar would do anything for his older brother. Everyone knew this. Even if Morris was older and took the hits from the man they both despised. Oscar was still dead. And Morris couldn’t bear it. His heart was aching, his chest in pain as his stomach hurt. Sibling loss is something not many people spoke of, but this was aching the ravenette. He was the only one, besides Wiesel, that willingly showed up to his baby brother's funeral. That hurt. It shattered. The once harsh, yet still caring Oscar, laid quietly and cold in that cemetery. That cold hellhole. He didn’t want to be anywhere near here, but he had to. He had to talk to his brother at least once. Once today. Once tomorrow. Once every day until he was next to be buried. 

Held tightly in his hands was his brother's hat. If Morris hadn’t held it, he’d have broken down hysterically. Then again, he’d cried enough. He had to man up. Being harassed by the newsies was bad enough as it was, but if they asked what happened to Oscar and why he wasn’t there, he’d snap at them with zero hesitation. It wasn’t like he was a ticking time bomb now, but truly, he was. He lost his baby brother. Of course he’d cry. The bastard who murdered him was no longer out in the world, no longer working with the trolley workers, but Morris still felt an agonizing pain. Why did Oscar push him out of the way? What if he’d disarm the man before his brother pushed him? What if’s all ran through his head as tears began to form back into his eyes. This was shattering Morris. His uncle had already left hours prior, but Morris sat there in the dirt and grass below, not caring how much of a mess he looked the next day. It wasn’t an issue. 

He remained completely silent as he stared at the tombstone. He had spent all his money he’d saved up to get out of town and back to the farm he and his brother lived on years before. The horses they had, both opposite colors. Morris, being the more gloomy of the two brothers, had a black thoroughbred, whilst his brother had a gray one. Not like Morris was complaining, but he damn well missed those horses. He would take his brother on horse rides whenever their parents were arguing back and forth and their grandparents weren’t around or in the house. The two were polar opposites. Morris put up a facade whenever his parents would argue, only relaxing that facade with his brother. Whilst Oscar would sit next to the older, crying his eyes out whilst shaking. 

"Come on, Osc. Let's get Pepper and Chile, okay? We can go on a ride." A young Morris spoke, gently rubbing the younger boys back. Oscar had tears in his eyes, falling down his cheeks and onto the black pants he wore. “Are you sure that’s a good idea, Mo?” The younger questioned, looking up at his brother with teary eyes. Morris shook his head, gently wiping the tears away from the younger's eyes. “I’m sure, Osc. We’ll be okay. C’mon. I know you wanted to go on the new trail near the forest?” He tried to remember, having overheard the younger talking to their parents about it. The sudden mention of the trail made Oscar’s eyes lighten up, a large smile appearing on his face as he quickly nodded his head. “Yeah! I heard it’s a gorgeous view through the trail, and it brings you out to an even bigger one!” He explained happily, letting out a small laugh before standing to his feet. “Are you going to go get a lantern?” He questioned the older, earning a nod.

“Yeah. I’ll get a lantern and meet you at the stables, okay? Just be careful. Run if you have to.” Morris spoke, standing to his feet along his brother and placing his hands on both the younger boys shoulders. “I get it. Don’t let mom and dad catch you. You know how they are. Go through the window, Our window.” Oscar explained, looking up at his brother and earning a smile and nod of confirmation. “I know, Osc. Get going, okay? Just be careful entering. The lanterns should be on so you’ll be able to see the tack and everything.” He continued to explain to his younger brother, turning to jog back towards the house, as he watched Oscar run towards the barn. They had a path from the house to the stables, so thank god he wouldn’t trip on a rock or anything. But Morris made sure he got in before he even made it to the house. Hell no was he going to let his brother be outside in the dark of night like this. He wouldn’t trust himself out of there. Seeing the stable doors close behind him and the silhouette of a thumbs up, Morris smiles before continuing his journey to the house. He was tall enough to try and jump to reach the roof of one of the downstairs rooms. His and Oscar’s room was on the second floor, their parents being just down the hallway. But they were arguing in the kitchen, just below the boys. So of course, Morris had to be sneaky and careful with this. He knew he was tall enough to jump up, but usually, he climbed up onto the shed beside the house and jumped on. It was easier said than done. So that’s exactly what he did.

Morris climbed onto the shed, then hopped up and grabbed onto the side of the roof, pulling himself up and gently making his way towards his window, where thankfully it was unlocked. His parents didn’t know the amount of times Morris snuck off, nor did he want them to. If they found out, he’d be grounded for a while. And Morris wasn’t trying to be grounded during his childhood. He took in a shaky breath, pulling his window up and slipping his way inside. He searched through drawers, pulling out his brass knuckles he was gifted by his grandfather, and the knife he had grabbed was a switchblade, gifted to Oscar by the same man. Morris knew they’d switch weapons. Oscar was more of a knife person, and Morris with brass knuckles. He put his stuff in a satchel, swinging it over his shoulder. Now to get the lantern and get back to his baby brother. A small huff escaped him as he quickly searched for a lantern, grabbing one from the hallway. His parents were still arguing. Lovely. A soft sigh escaped him as he ran a hand through his hair, holding the lantern before carefully making his way out the window, closing it behind him. His mother thought they were asleep, plus, they’d be back in time for it too, so there wasn’t anything to worry about.

That's one of the memories Morris remembered. He took in a shaky breath as he stood up to his feet, staring down at the tombstone. "You didn't have to do anything. I would've accepted getting shot." He mumbled. He wasn't... mad. He couldn't do anything now. Oscar was dead. Morris had to go on without him.

[wurbel]