nothing will ever hit harder than realizing dutch was always like that. that he didn’t actually change or go insane. that he always had that in him - the cruelty and the violence and the bigotry. that in the end he was all talk, because back when things were good for him he could talk. he could preach and pat himself on the back for being so morally superior and he could stroke his own ego by ‘saving’ all the unfortunates, feeling unique because these outcasts weren’t accepted by anybody else but him. but it didn’t actually amount to anything.
all those things you once respected him for saying - calling the gang family and arthur his son and defending the native americans and telling the gang to never leave love aside and his support of equality and his criticisms of society and privilege and corruption and power - all of it comes to nothing. it means nothing. it becomes ashes in his mouth. because in the end he betrays his family and he abandons his son and he irrevocably harms the native americans and he does leave love aside, he does prove himself to be an oppressive white man when it comes down to it and he does revel in his power and his title and he does become corrupted as he demands unquestioning loyalty and faith in the same way those he claims to oppose do.
and goddamn he was always like this. but when it was good it never showed, not truly, not in ways that were noticeable. and he’s a tarot card because what he is now and what he was then are the same but when circumstances change so do the worst parts of you come forth. and your true self is revealed. and that’s what happened to dutch. and it hurts because everything he preached he betrayed and everyone who loved him and who he claimed to love he abandoned. and in the end everything he built and everything he said meant nothing. it was all for nothing. the people he used and abused and manipulated became nothing to him. and he’s just smoke. he’s not a martyr. he’s not a relic. he’s not like arthur or hamish or john. he’s just words in the fucking wind.
