#They hold almost no influence over anything current especially since their direct replacement

[fishmech]

The Puritans considered being a workaholic a form of sinful pride and greed actually. They believed overwork was essentially a moral failing especially from the part of any boss who was demanding it. Working more than you needed to voluntarily was considered forgoing your duty to God and family, and a boss who expected it of a worker was similarly considered impeding proper worship & family life.

If you're going to pick a historic Christian denomination to be about pride in overwork, you'd wanna talk about maybe continental Calvinists and industrial revolution Lutherans: key ideological forebears of such behavior in modern American (and I do mean both continents here) conservative Protestantism.

it's good that we're saying "i don't feel guilty about pleasure im not Catholic" but we also need to start saying "i don't feel self-righteous about being overworked I'm not Puritan"

[ratcandy]

Subcon Forest Analysis

Hi everyone I'm here to spill my aggressive overflowing thoughts on Subcon Forest and what it represents because it's been driving me insane since I finished the Sleepy Subcon time rift. Okay let's go. Obvious spoilers for AHIT ahead so proceed with caution.

This is also very, very long.

Disclaimer/warning: I will be discussing abusive/unhealthy relationships in this analysis. I mean. Vanessa. Come on. Also, there is a section on the nooses, and that delves, of course, into mentions of suicide. It will be sectioned off and easily skipped, but if you'd rather be safe and skip the entire post, that's completely understandable! Please stay safe. <3

Alright. Main point to be had here:

Subcon Forest is a giant extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character.

You all get to now listen to me spout nonsense about metaphors and symbolism because I'm a sucker for analysis and I'm given an opportunity to go ham. So perish.

The Ice

Let's start with the most obvious and most glaring thing in Subcon. The ice. It's everywhere. Not just outside Vanessa's manor, either; no, it's throughout the village, too. Shows up in the well and in random locations sprinkled about. When it comes to literal plot, we know that ice is just what lingers after Vanessa's wintery curse on Subcon. But going deeper and analyzing the meaning behind it?

Well, let's look at this from the perspective I've suggested. Subcon Forest being an extended metaphor for Snatcher's mind and character. A symbol for Vanessa then litters his mind, enough where it's certainly noticeable at first but blends in more easily once more of Subcon is unlocked to Hat Kid. This is clearly meant to be his lingering trauma, whether or not he wants to acknowledge it. Which he doesn't, as he never mentions it directly in his forest (that I can recall). Her influence plagues him, as to be expected with the traumatic experiences he went through with her. Breaking the ice is something Hat Kid must do in order to fulfill the wishes of the Fire Spirits (another subject I'll get into shortly), which, if self-indulgently playing with the found family idea, could mean that Hat Kid is helping him heal; if indirectly. Even if fulfilling the Fire Spirits' wish to die is... counterproductive, in that measure, which I'm now getting ahead of myself so hold on a sec!!

Vanessa. Ice. Everywhere. Traces of it all over his forest. That's the effects of an abusive relationship! Especially in a worst-case scenario where... yknow! One party in the relationship dies! So of course ice would be everywhere.

In and of itself, ice is a common symbol in literature and other forms of media. In this case, it's presented as an antagonistic force; emphasis is placed upon freezing and the harm that comes with it. The cold is unwelcoming, threatening, merciless. Snow can act as an insulating force, at least, but ice cannot. It can only make things colder.

A slight stretch: Seeing as this game deals a lot with time shenaniganry, I'm not sure if it'd be too out of left field to connect "freezing" with the theme of time. Yknow. Frozen in time. Both parties here, Snatcher and Vanessa, would be in this frozen state. One largely repressing it and never fully moving on, and the other doomed to her isolation ever since the event in question. They never moved past that moment after the Prince and florist's interaction.

The Fire Spirits (& the Portraits)

I'll put a slight warning here for suicidal ideation, if only because... it's the Fire Spirits we're talking about. It's not as grossly in-detail as the noose discussion will be, though, so make of that what you will.

To me, the Fire Spirits are a very interesting case. After all, they're fire. They're a direct contrast to the ice, thus being the only thing we're shown that could potentially melt it. The Fire Spirits, in my opinion, represent hope or a strength to continue. A strength to move on after troubles of the past.

...And that hope wants to die.

The Fire Spirits wish to burn out, to leave this mortal coil and abandon the forest to the cold. They make no effort to melt the ice, they simply dance, blissfully ignorant towards their surroundings. This being a metaphor for Snatcher's own hope for moving on is made all the more obvious by the fact he wants them gone. The first contract is to kill the Fire Spirits, to kill the hope. Perhaps he believes that sort of thing to be fruitless or naïve, so it only clutters his mind or has him foolishly optimistic at points. So, get rid of it. And the hope is happy to oblige.

(That, or their willingness to leave the forest to its own suffering and not aid in the ice's thaw angers him. Besides the whole "bark bark growl I can't get to parts of my forest because of them!!" which... also could represent a naïve hope clouding his judgement, not allowing him to see a bigger picture. But hope can't all be lost if one wants to move forward...)

A little side-tangent now on the portraits! And it's another slight stretch but the idea is in my head and I can't let it go. Portraits are another common symbol, usually being a physical representation of a memory or idea. For our purposes, let's say they're memories. I know in canon they appear to just hold souls captive or something but for now we're just Ignoring That(tm). The Fire Spirits have to burn the portraits to disappear. See where I'm going with this, maybe?

Instead of handling bad memories (or perhaps memories of the past in general) in any healthy manner, Snatcher chooses to forget/repress them, which just allows his hope to progressively die out.

I'm really hoping this is making sense because it makes a lot of sense to me but I might be insane rn

The Fact that this is a Forest

Forest symbolism breakdown! What's a forest usually mean in literature? "Traditionally, the forest has come to represent being lost, exploration and potential danger as well as mystery and 'other worldliness'." Okay. Yeah. Fair enough. That certainly works with the whole aesthetic we've got going on. Wood usually is life, growth and strength. But the trees of subcon are all dead. So what about that? It stands for death, big whoop, very spooky, we know Snatcher's dead and so are the children, yadda yadda wowie wowie. But. :) The trees in Subcon look a lot like trees that were scorched in a forest fire. Don't believe me?

(You could also argue they're just regular marsh/swamp trees bUT SSHHSUUHSH HANG ON HEAR ME OUT LOOK LOOK,)

What I believe to have happened was a controlled fire to rid the forest of the majority of its ice and snow. Likely done by Snatcher. It leaves behind a very desolate, depressing, barren scene... but. What else do dead/burnt trees symbolize? Rebirth. After all, controlled fires happen to make way for new trees to take the place of old ones. Some trees only drop seeds in fires/hot temperatures, so new ones take root and begin anew. Weird. It's almost like... I dunno. Snatcher was given some sorta second chance, given he's not just a corpse in Vanessa's cellar. So were the subconites. Another life given then by Snatcher. All connected I tell ya!!

Generally, aside from that, forests have many connotations. Mystery, isolation, claustrophobia; a place to dwell on regrets, or the past; to worry over one's future; to seek escape from or escape inside of... hmgmrnmm!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The Nooses

The t/w is given at the top and another cut-off point will follow the bottom of this, for those that would like to skip. This will delve into talk of suicide and abusive tactics used by abusers. Please don't read if it will upset you or make you feel unsafe!!!

Personally, I cannot stand the nooses, but that's just due to my own triggers. Were there a way to hide those from the game or replace the damned talking ones with anything else. I would take it. In a heartbeat. But I can still appreciate the potential analysis to be had with them. So now i'm gonna talk about it despite how uncomfortable it will make me to do so. yEa

So, what about 'em? There are three types of nooses seen in Subcon. At least that I remember but I didn't really go looking for them. Empty ones, ones containing empty subconites, and the talking ones.

Nooses in general obviously can hint towards suicidal thoughts or behaviors of the characters that interact with them. If saying Subcon is Snatcher's mind, it could suggest that he suffered from some sort of suicidal thoughts in life (or currently, if second death is possible... or if he never truly died... or maybe he's trying to figure that out...which has given me... a separate idea...uh oh). But. And hear me out. Different perspective.

A talking noose. I hate them with a fiery passion that is unmatched. But think of the packed symbolism of a noose that talks. And think more about what it says. "I wouldn't mind being strapped around a cute neck like yours." "Be careful now, I don't want to see you meet a miserable end anywhere, but with me." Oddly, a lot of what the noose says seems almost... endearing? One could argue it's a way of luring someone to put it around their necks, which in and of itself is a whole lot to unpack when it comes to suicidal thoughts beckoning one forward; painting itself as something romantic, almost. But. Here's a wild idea, now. What if the nooses, at least the talking ones, are another symbol for Vanessa?

They're tinted blue, after all. While Vanessa's scheme is more red, one could argue two things: One, ice. Blue. Ice. yeah. Or two, the fact that Snatcher's scheme is more purple. Blue and red... make... purple. So, for all we know, Snatcher's current state was a compound effort between suicidal thoughts and Vanessa's treatment of him. Perhaps he even found a way to put himself out of his misery before freezing/starving to death. (I know he has dialogue that argues against that, but... are we certain Snatcher would be the kind to admit suicide over freezing to death?... I don't think so.)

At any rate, a common threat by those in "control" of an abusive relationship is that of killing themselves should the other person not do as they desire. It's a cruel form of emotional manipulation to get their way, worse off if the other party is an empathetic individual. As a person who has been the empathetic individual in relationships like this... I would know. I've been here, unfortunately So, it's not completely out of the question to say Vanessa could've used some tactic like that, even before the whole... cellar ordeal. Did she? I dunno. I'm tossing ideas around. But if she did, the threats of such would sit around in the Prince's mind easily. Even if she has a reputation of not going through with it. It doesn't matter. That shit sticks with you forever, that scare, the potential of it ever being true, is horrifying and it ruins you. I'm projecting, Squirtle.

Still. A noose cannot hang itself. It has to have a victim.

...yea.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- T / W PASSED -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Misc. Ideas

- The spiders: Aside from the usual things spiders can be chalked up to symbolizing - toxicity, alluring danger, just... general pain - I like the potential wordplay that can happen here. Yknow. A black widow. Say the Prince and Vanessa were married when one died. What would that leave Vanessa? A widow. ...She's red and black, too. Yknow. Like a black widow. HA wordplay is fun isn't it?

- Snatcher's tree: Love this place, love sitting in here. But not the point! The inside of Snatcher's tree is such a harsh juxtaposition to the rest of Subcon that it kinda throws ya off guard. After all, the dark, purples and blues then contrasted with the bright warm colors of the inside. Even the music switches over. The thorns outside aren't present indoors. Ohh yeah this is gonna be on the nose as hell but the Tree(tm) is 100% representing Snatcher's appearance/put-on personality vs. his truer nature. Spooky outside with thorns, foreboding, unwelcoming. Then the more comfortable interior. VULnerable. Have I even mentioned that the tree is HOLLOW I mean COME ON. The sturdiness of that tree? Nonexistent. He's not a sturdy guy at all no matter how he fronts

- Intrusions are unwelcome: Snatcher does not like the fact that Hat Kid sticks around in his forest. His personal space. His mind. In fact he tries desperately to get rid of her after their fight, not wanting her presence in his forest at all. He has no problem providing more contracts later on with the Death Wish thing, and he finds great entertainment in messing around with Hat Kid, so it's not just a weird sudden hatred he has for her; it's the fact that. After she's finished being useful, he no longer wants her around, lest she find some things she shouldn't find. Now he's just uncomfortable with her in his personal boundaries. Could just be a denial that she's helped him heal (breaking ice, stealing from Vanessa, being something interesting for his kids to interact with) or just not really wanting a child to get wrapped up in. All that. Most likely the former. Considering the amount of joke-hints he drops regarding his background during his Death Wish dialogue. I see you funny man, making jokes out of your trauma as a coping mechanism. Punts him

Annnd I think that's all I got, for now! I'll make an update post if I get any more sporadic ideas. If you read this whole thing, thank you!! and also!! Wow that was a lot!! Hell world. Please feel free to elaborate on any of my points or debate with me on em!! I'm always open to other ideas, just be aware that if I disagree I am not shy when it comes to debate hehehe, tho I won't be aggressive to any extent I prommy!!

Alrighty. goes to sleep goodnight

[originofjaehyun]

Prelude: After Story | Part 3 | Make Your Day

Prelude: After Story Masterlist

Word count: 4,330

Warnings: Suggestive

Part 3 | Make Your Day

“Just by your existence, you already shine radiantly like this.”

Prev

Read Interlude: No More Drama

Tag list: @justineasian​ @elauniesdream

A/N: I started Interlude: No More Drama series back in March, and I never knew that the series would go this far. Prelude: After Story is a mini-sequel that I actually didn’t plan –since I started to write Interlude during the Neozone era and I didn’t know how they would bring the repackage album, but truthfully I’m very proud of where it is. I think it is quite interesting to see things from Yuta’s POV! 

I hope you’re not bored at this, but I wish I could convey my gratitude better. I already wrote my thank you during the end of Interlude, but I’d like to say thanks again. Really, receiving warm messages especially during the current world situation does brighten up my day. So I hope that my writings could help to entertain you, to make your day (no puns intended hahaha).

This marks the end of Interlude: No More Drama and Prelude: After Story series! I personally think this is a milestone for me as a writer (especially this is one of my first published work). In the future, I would probably go cringe when I re-read this when I’m able to write a better story, but nevertheless this is the first stepping stone and it doesn’t change the fact that I will always feel proud of this. I really like how the story unfolds and how the character develops, and I think this is the perfect closure to end the series.

Thank you for loving them, and enjoying the ride with the characters!

Much love,

Dee

The same reaction, always, whenever Yuta received a guest.

You took a moment to admire his house. It’s late, but after stepping inside, you are greeted with the large window –displaying the amazing view of the cityscape.

He took off his suit, throwing it to the armchair. “Please be comfortable. Sorry for the sudden invitation, I realized I might be slightly pushy now that I've started to sober up. I can’t believe I let a woman drive me home.”

You giggled softly. “Please, gender shouldn’t prevent you from driving safely. Anyway, you have a very nice place.”

He scoffed. “It’s humble, but I like this place. The view is very charming from here. Well, sit down, I’ll grab our glasses and some ice.”

Of course, his apartment is anything but humble. You quickly scanned the room as you make your way to where he pointed his couch is. There are weird ornaments as a part of the house decorations here and there, like a vase with Japanese ceramic technique with a single dark crimson rose and few decorations of octopuses —you never knew how those could blend in together. Nevertheless, it has its own charm and the place screams his personality.

“Here,” He passes you a glass that is filled with caramel-colored liquid. The sound of the ice touching the glass snaps you from your daydream. “It’s Hibiki 12. I hope you don’t mind whiskey?”

You accepted the glass with both of your hands. “I’m good with anything. Out of curiosity though, do you always have a Japanese liquor on hand?”

A wide grin appears on his face, showcasing the perfectly aligned teeth. “To be precise, I always have Hibiki around because they are easier to drink. I managed to snatch a bottle of champagne and bourbon, though. Do you prefer those instead?”

“Would never refuse an invitation for a bottle of good quality champagne.”

“Seems like you’re a heavy drinker, Miss. I must say I think I’m pretty good at handling my alcohol, but I want to make sure there’s no accident tonight.”

You slightly flinched at his last sentence but managed to control your expression.

“Ah, I think just normal? I could manage if we could keep the pace slow –though I’m pretty sure that’s not what you wanted tonight.”

Yuta smirked, taking a seat on the floor across you. You followed him, taking a seat near him since it would be rude for you to remain seated on the couch while the house owner is being casual and sitting on the floor.

“Actually, not really.” He said while twirling his class, taking another sip. “I was thinking of taking it slow tonight.”

You shifted your stare to see him. “Is that so.”

While you thought it was quite careless for him to invite a stranger –technically you are up until the car ride where you briefly introduce each other– to his house, you’re not the one to talk since you also waltzed into his apartment without any second thoughts.

Both of you don’t mind the silence, as he continues to spin his middle finger around the rim of his glass. Either the alcohol starts to kick in, or he is consumed by his own thoughts. His cheeks start to flushed like cherry blossoms, and his mind is in a daze.

“I–” Yuta finally breaks the silence. “Was thinking a lot about my own feelings. On the contrary to my look, I think I’m actually the type of person who feels a lot. Most of the time I decide things based on my feelings.”

You didn’t respond, so there’s a momentary pause before he bridges his story together. You didn’t respond because you didn’t pay him any attention, but you just feel like right now what he needs is to let out his feelings, bare to the table.

“When I received my invitation, I feel like the ground below my feet shattered. But at the same time, it would be rude of me to reject it when she was so excited about her wedding. I was thinking how could this person be so dense to invite me that are still wallowing in sorrow?”

You took another sip of your whiskey, keeping your mouth shut while listening to his story.

“As I entered the venue today, each and every of my step seems harder. Like, I was regretting saying yes to her invitation.”

He then looked down at his almost empty glass. “Then I saw her face. And it feels like... all the answers that I’ve been looking for was there. That today was the day where I truly feel thankful that I made that decision. I’m glad she looked happy,”

He took another sip, finishing whatever left on his glass. “I’m glad that I could end this and make it into a proper memory.”

There it is.

The man in front of you smiled when he reached the end of his sentence. But you can see how that smile was wrapped in sadness.

You know by the way he talks, he is a man full of passion. His directness that is sometimes always too spontaneous. But it’s not the blazing-type of passion. Maybe because of his past, there’s always a trail of woe that surrounds him. That keeps him from burning his surroundings.

Like a blue flame.

“I’m sorry, it must be weird to suddenly listen to my sad story,” He said as he rises up. “Let me refill your glass. Should we take other liquor? I was thinking of switching it up to wine. I didn’t lie when I said there’s no more regret, but in order for me to truly accept it, I guess I kinda need to feel my feelings? I need something to dull the pain.”

“I thought you only stole bourbon and champagne?”

“You can’t call it a Nakamoto residence without a vast amount of alcohol gallery, you know?”

Finally, a hint of delight starts to replace the somber mood. “Again, I’m a guest so I’ll take anything. For your reference, though, I’m more of a red wine person.”

He curls his lips upwards, chiseling his well-structured cheekbones, “Got it. Also, please be more comfortable. I’m the one who suddenly invites you, after all.”

As he walks toward his wine fridge, you reactively rise up, about to offer your help. You’ve been sitting on your feet for quite a while, and your legs are definitely not ready for the sudden movement. You almost slip to the ground, but as if it was a shoujo manga, Yuta manages to catch you.

“Careful!” He said as he holds your upper arm, preventing you from falling.

It feels like the universe planned this all along, as cliche as it might sound.

You get to see his face, up close. The way his eyes pull you in, glistening from the alcohol that he had consumed.

It would be a lie if you told him that you’re not attracted. How could you not? The man in front of you is obviously good looking, but his demeanor, the way his voice travels through the air.

It was all just too alluring.

You avoided of the what-could-have-happened-next scenario by breaking the eye contact, looking away. It is a different case for Yuta. Because the sight of your neck, now burning in the vibrant pink flush is like an open invitation for him.

And he is not Yuta if he is not a decisive person.

He leans in, giving you a soft kiss on the lips. A kiss you didn’t see coming, but most definitely sending electrifying feels to your spine. A kiss that is mixed with the bitterness from alcohol. Yet Hibiki is sweet, so you long for more, kissing him back in the process.

The kiss that was started gently, suddenly rises up as both of you wanting for more. He dives in, checking if you felt the same way. You reciprocated, biting his lower lips. Asking him to pace up the speed.

You thought he would gladly eat you. To your disappointment, however, he separates his lips from yours.

“Are you fine with this?”

His whispers are gentle, yet able to give you goosebumps. He knows, that even under influence he should earn your consent before moving on to the next step. That surprises you because you thought the alcohol would turn him into a beast. But Yuta remains as a gentleman.

So you shyly give him a nod of approval, much to gain his wonderful smile. He leans forward to kiss you, but this time in a much more aggressive manner.

As he trails his lips to your neck, soft moans escape from your lips.

“Wait,” You stopped him half-way, which he only responded with a confused face. “Can we, uhm, perhaps move somewhere else? I… never done this… so I don’t know if I’m doing this right,”

Seeing how nervous you are, and the way you panicked over this, Yuta couldn’t help to chuckle softly. 

“Of course, that is rude of me,” He kissed your temple, followed by gentle strokes on your head. 

“Come.”

He stands up, offering his hand in which you immediately accept. He guides you to his room. His room didn’t shy away from being loud, some might even perceive it as odd since he opts to choose eccentric pieces to decorate his sanctuary. But everything seems to mesh well together with his plain beige wallpaper. There are a few unfinished canvases at the corner, most notably a painting of roses.

You were busy admiring his room to realize that he was waiting for you at the corner of his bed. Arms wide open ready to embrace you.

You giggled at the scene, but then you remember that you fall into his arms means it won’t stop at just there.

“Can I... use your bathroom first?”

You can feel the heat collecting on your cheek. You were embarrassed to ask such a question, but Yuta understands where you are coming from in a heartbeat, and you are glad for that.

“Please,” He said, gesturing to you to find his bathroom. “But once you’re done, we’re not stopping, yeah? I think I’ve been good for being patient, don’t you think?”

You smiled at his remarks. “I’ll be quick.”

You practically skipped your way to the bathroom. You checked yourself, at least making sure you smell pleasant. Then before leaving the bathroom door, you took your time in front of the sink. Contemplating with yourself in the mirror.

You are about to fuck Yuta.

The words repeated inside your head but soon vanished at the sight of a foreign object. Not that you are used to his apartment, but everything in his apartment was coated with his character, except this dainty jewelry.

It was a delicate, simple rose gold earrings. You noticed that Yuta rocks multiple piercings on both of his ears. But none are this delicate. It seems these were too plain for his liking.

Who am I to judge?

You said to yourself. You literally just know this man tonight and you’d be damned to judge his taste. Who knows, maybe he has those days where he wants to lay low. Whenever he’s going to meet his clients, perhaps? But you feel like keeping such delicate pieces in the bathroom has a potential of him losing it, so you call him out.

“Yuta?”

He hummed as a form of reply.

“You shouldn’t keep your earrings near the sink, you know. You might wash them away by accident.”

Suddenly you can hear his footsteps, rushing. You didn’t lock the door and you are glad that you didn’t because he would probably break the door open. He rushed to grab the pair of earrings, and the color on his face fades away. The smile that once appeared on his face was no longer there.

This gains your confusion. What does a rose gold earring mean to him that he had to act this way?

A rose gold earring.

A painting of roses.

A single rose that was fresh, as if it was treated with the utmost care.

Then you remember that the sight of a rose is definitely not a stranger for you, especially the last three days.

You decorated the hall with roses.

The couple carefully selected the specific color of the roses, making the last few weeks like a nightmare looking out for the vendors.

Of course, you even arranged her bouquet with roses.

“Ah, I just like roses,” She said to you when you asked why she picked roses as one of the main flowers. “As cliché as it might sound, I think roses are one of the most stunning flowers out there. They’re beautiful but surrounded by their thorns so you got to treat them gently unless you want them to prick you. Also, I think it’s because of the roses that we’re back together.”

“Did we?” Her fiancé finally looked at her after busy playing with the ring on her fingers.

“Don’t you dare to forget you add water to my shower gel.”

You could remember the laughter vividly in your head, but the last thing that you would want right now is to laugh. 

“I get it.” You tried to act though, but there’s a crack in your voice. “I get that you just told me you were trying to forget about her a few minutes ago.”

You can feel like your vision is about to start to blur, but you took a deep breath to prevent a single tear to drop.

“I’d like to blame it on the alcohol, but I guess I’m at fault too.”

Was it the way he always smiled so brilliantly? His weird and odd taste that makes you furrow your brows the moment you step into his place? The way he comes to your shop every week to buy fresh flowers and look at them so lovingly?

Perhaps, because he could enter your heart so easily. Who knows, you might have already fallen for him the moment he requested for roses the first time you met him.

You get that you only get along well, and what are the chances that these things happen so smoothly? You’re not a princess out of a Disney movie.

He evidently holds the pair of earrings so dearly, and even though you’re not the type of person who puts your feelings on your sleeve, it is inevitable that you felt the sharp pain on your chest.

“I never do this, Yuta. And I don’t plan on doing these things, if that someone doesn’t think about me at this very moment.”

Your words startled him, and before he could speak up, you gave him your last words. “Please, don’t ever take this so lightly, especially to me.”

You walked past him, grabbing your belongings in the living room before walking outside. You are glad Yuta didn’t chase you, because it would hurt your pride if he knows that you cried a river when you walk your way to your car.

--

It’s nearly a week since you closed your flower shop. This is your business and to be frank you are still upset about what happened after the wedding party. The newlyweds paid a hefty amount of money so you can survive a bit without operating. Though, this small shop that is also connected to your home upstairs will need to open soon in order for you to be able to pay your bills. Furthermore, your love for flowers is far too great for you to leave them without any attention. 

You closed your shop, telling your customers (especially your regulars) and putting a sign in front of the shop that you will be back after a week of break. You also told Mark that he wouldn’t need to come. He accepted it without pressing for further questions, but it’s so like Mark to make sure you’re alright.

“I’m fine, really. You don’t need to pay for my shift this week either.”

“Are you sure? I was thinking I could give you half of it.”

“No, I wouldn’t feel good taking money without putting any effort into it. But most importantly, you sure you’re fine, Noona?”

You sighed in relief, glad that Mark is well-raised and how he always cares about the people around him. “I’m fine, Mark. I think the wedding frenzy got the best of me, so I was thinking of having a short break so I could have a fresh start.”

“Well, it was overwhelming, not gonna lie,” Mark said as he recalled how he helped you prepare for his brother’s and new sis wedding. “I guess if you say so. Please if there’s anything I could do to help, let me know Noona.”

You replied with a simple yes, throwing your phone to the bed after you ended the call.

The past week, all you’ve been doing is to wake up early in the morning, tend the flowers, eat your breakfast, and go straight to nap. It’s a bad habit, yes, but that is how you cope with sadness.

Sad? Am I entitled to feel so?

You only know Yuta briefly, he is a regular. The fact that you know that he’s a Japanese before he told you so is probably trivial to him.

“We’re out of camellias, I’m terribly sorry sir.”

“Do you know when the next batch will come?”

“Unfortunately camellias are not in season, so it will take a while for us to restock it.”

He sighed, then he looked at his wristwatch. It seems like he doesn’t have that much time to browse the catalog.

“Is there a reason why you’re looking for camellias?”

“Ah, not really. It reminds me of home. I just came back from there last week. I thought of getting roses, but I changed my mind.”

“Home?”

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t from here. I’m a Japanese, you see.”

“Oh! I didn’t notice.”

He shyly scratched the back of his head, still not used to people complimenting his bilingual ability. You find his reaction charming, unconsciously giggling at it.

“Then, sir, I assume you’re in a hurry. May I give you a suggestion?”

“How do you know I was in a hurry?”

“Well it was easy since you immediately asked for camellia and looked at your watch the moment I told you we don’t have one.”

He lets out a smile. A smile so warm that sunflowers might face toward his direction immediately. “Indeed, I have to meet someone this evening. So your help will actually good for my favor. I was thinking of buying flowers for my dining table, do you have any suggestions?”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “I think buttercups would be perfect.”

—

Yuta has been thinking a lot about what happened last Saturday.

Especially how he should talk to her.

It’s easy to spot her store, Yuta and Doyoung practically passed by it every single morning on their way to the office. The sun hits the flower store perfectly. Not too harsh, just a bask of the golden ray. Usually, he would see how the beautifully bloomed flowers were displayed on the store windows. But it’s already day six and the store shows no sign of operations.

He reads the announcement board in front of the store; “Paradise will be closed for an inventory check. We will be back to serve you next week!”

He feels dejected. Yuta couldn’t just ask Mark for her number, that would have raised so many questions. Yes, Yuta kissed her, but was their relationship that close for him to ask for her number? The fact that both of them are not sober is also a part of Yuta’s concern.

So instead, Yuta planned to visit the florist (especially since he’s been skipping buying flowers for a week —his vase longed to be filled with any arrangement) as an excuse to meet her. But now he even lost that very reason.

He was about to step away before a tune leaked out from the front door.

Someone is here.

Without hesitation, Yuta knocked on the front door. The one inside, however, did not expect any visitor. Yuta can hear how the person inside scrambles their way to open the door.

“Yes?”

She lets out a professional smile, and it fades almost instantly as soon as she sees Yuta standing in front of her door.

“Hi.”

“Yuta!” She closes her mouth, surprised that she shrieked. “Uhm, I… didn’t expect you to come. But our store is currently close, so if you’re looking for flowers, unfortunately we—“

“I want to talk to you.”

Again, it’s so very Yuta to cut to the chase.

“I want to clarify a few things.”

She finally looked at him. She tried to remain calm, keeping the expressionless upfront. But Yuta could see how her pupils were quivering. She was trying to be brave.

“I’d like to apologize for three things. One, the way I reacted at that time. It was only mere minutes after I said that I’m truly happy for her. As a human being, don’t you think it’s understandable that I reacted that way?”

She nods but remained silent.

“I’m typically an extrovert, but I’m very territorial with my personal space, and I let her go beyond the lines that I created. In a way, she is precious to me.”

This time, she didn’t respond.

“And she would probably always be. But that doesn’t mean I could only have one precious person in my life.”

She furrowed her brows, and Yuta smirked as he continued.

“After that night, I think a lot about my feelings. How I truly felt.” He scratches the back of his head that is not itchy, but because it takes a lot for Yuta to bare his feelings like this while being sober.

“And the answer remains the same. I genuinely feel happy for her. So I thought, it would only be right to properly keep everything away, little by little instead of throwing it away out of anger. Forcing myself to move on from her. Because I, too believe –as narcissistic as this might sound, that I was a part of a chapter in her life that she holds dear too. It might be slow progress, but I will get there, eventually.”

“Secondly, I apologize for not apologizing for kissing you that night. There is no regret, the attraction is mutual anyway.”

She tilted her head, before realizing what Yuta actually meant. “Wait, you knew?”

He chuckles. “Going back to Osaka was the turning point. Probably everything that I need. It forces me to start fresh, exactly like what I did when I first set foot in this country. It let me accept that I’m actually the type of person who feels a lot. Like how I admit that I’m hopelessly romantic.”

The cold atmosphere starts to melt away, with the addition of the sun seeps in between the leaves on the nearby tree.

“So afterward I’ve been looking into subjects that I never knew I would be interested in, for example, flower languages. Might be the very first reason why I came to receive buttercups from this place.”

“So what you said…”

“Well, I guess I can say my third and last apology. I’m sorry that I am a hopeless romantic kind of guy. I’m very direct, people often told me that I intimidate them sometimes just by doing nothing. But it is just my outer shell. I might not be as strong as the way people view me. Now that you know, it might put you off, huh.”

She finally laughs, “Yuta, I am a florist. This is my field.”

As if her laugh is contagious, Yuta too, unconsciously smiling back.

“I guess, it’s been quite a journey. At least for me. Maybe I’m the one who holds onto the feelings, thinking that I should hold into it for as long as I could possibly can. But life doesn’t work that way, you know? And probably the time you gave me daffodils is one of the signs, too. I just brushed them off because of my stubbornness.”

“Maybe, just maybe, I want to start seeing life as it is. To enjoy the present. To enjoy life as moments. To experience the wonderful charm of its magic. One of the magical moments started here, and I love to cherish them while the magic is still here. In fact, it’s been a long time since things are going smoothly for me. So if I can be ever so selfish, would you let me?”

She was stunned by his remarks. Eyes blinking rapidly, completely unprepared for his sudden proposal.

Yuta had expected it. It’s barely a week, and to receive this kind of confession —although not necessarily a boyfriend-girlfriend confession— from a man who just told you his grief can be confusing.

The confused face started to fade, and she left without replying to a single word. 

Yuta thought she rejected him, asking him to leave the shop.

Well, you deserve this, Nakamoto.

As he was about to walk away, she came back with anthuriums on her hand. Taking a moment to catch for her breath as she was rushing to grab these flowers.

“This is?”

“You don’t want an answer?”

He shook his head. “It’s not that. I mean, yes I told you I’ve been learning about flower languages but it’s mostly from Google, and I can’t possibly remember the meaning of every single flower?”

“I can.”

“You are a florist, my dear.”

She laughed lightly, a tone that was like jiggles of bells to Yuta’s ears.

“Can you move closer? I want to whisper these words to you.”

Yuta motioned to her immediately, obediently following her request. As her lips almost touch his ear, Yuta can feel his blood rushing to his ears.

She said, gently to his ears. “I hope you’ll be happy today.”

[nezumiismissing]

Authoritarianism Without Leadership and the Formation of Spatial Identity

I think at this point I have probably brought this up in every single one of my analyses, so it’s about time that this topic gets its own breakdown in a full length post (or 2 or 3). There’s a lot to cover and it’s going to get way out there, but hopefully you can find something useful here. And if not, maybe it can at least be entertaining. More exploration of this topic to come at an unspecified time after the convention when my brain decides to enter the No.6 zone again. (and yes it is over 3000 words so, you know, plan for that)

So if you couldn’t tell, the No.6 anime does not have an antagonist, at least not in any traditional sense of the word. The opponent our characters are facing off against, it turns out, is not an evil scientist or an organization or a military, but instead it is the city and its systems that must be either destroyed or reformed by the end of the story. And while those other characters exist within the world of No.6, and all take actions that go directly against the desires of our main characters, they are not fought against especially directly and within the anime have no real identity, instead only existing as part of the whole. But what is the whole exactly? I think the easy answer here is to say that the whole is society, the culture we live within that shapes everything we do in life and that must have some amount of force placed upon it to change in any significant way. But when we say that “society is the whole”, and therefore the antagonist of No.6, what do we mean by that? And how does our perception and interpretation of what it means to be a society impact how we read and understand the story of No.6?

Now, having society be the antagonist of a young adult dystopian series is not something that No.6 came up with, obviously. It's basically a necessity of the genre. But within that structure, although not always apparent at first, there is a lot of variance. These worlds are almost always authoritarian and hierarchical, the result of some massive war or natural disaster that we have been unable to fully heal from, but outside of that, the way in which these worlds are built and understood are vastly different. Some are pretending to be utopias while others give us no image of what it means to be at the “top” and only show suffering. Some take place in over-crowded cities and others have sparse populations of people constantly searching for each other. There are social (and human) experiments, revolutions of all shapes and sizes, monsters and aliens and governments that are all in one way or another trying to reflect the very real events that are taking place in the real world in a way that is perhaps more comprehensible, or at least entertaining. Society as it currently exists is very much the antagonist of these stories, and at the center (and everywhere else) of a society are individual people making decisions that may or may not be good and may or may not have good intentions. So it is easy to see how, when it comes down to it, while society is implicitly understood to be the antagonist, most of these stories focus their energy on the removal of a tangible threat, usually a person or group of people who are determined to be “in charge” of the society and therefore responsible for much of the misery of a dystopia. The No.6 novels also fall into this group, as does the manga. But the No.6 anime, for whatever reason, decided to do something completely different, and something that is arguably much more terrifying.

From here on out I will just refer to the anime as No.6 and will specify if I am mentioning the novels/manga.

In No.6 things do not happen because someone says they need to happen, but they instead happen for…. what reason exactly? We see the mayor referenced briefly in the first episode, so we can assume that he is the one in charge of decision-making, but he makes no actual appearances. The military is clearly shown demolishing the West Block, but who is giving orders? Who is watching over the scientists at the Correctional Facility? Deciding where the wall will expand next if at all? In most stories you would see questions like these answered either near the beginning of the story or revealed at the end, and if it's neither of those then they’ll probably still show up at some point in the middle. But in No.6 there is none of that. There is no one or no group clearly “in charge” of what is happening at any time in regards to the city and its surroundings. Instead, it seems, the city has reached a point in which the details of how these things are occurring are unimportant, and that for the most part, things will unfold with or without the input of an individual or group. The implication of this being that No.6 is somehow separate from its people and government, and is, in a sense, alive.

I think this is largely why the anime is able to be so effective, despite its many other issues. On a surface level, the story lacks any kind of antagonist, making it unclear where exactly it's going. But the existence of the city as an independent entity fills in these odd gaps, creating the image of a society that has, quite literally, lost control of itself. It also makes more concrete the theme of “society vs nature” that is kind of hinted at for most of the story and then kind of shoved in your face at the end with Elyurias and Nezumi’s backstory. But with Elyurias being the physical embodiment of nature, what exactly is it that she is opposing? But before we get into that, some framing and questions (or maybe just one very big question).

What does it mean for a city to be “alive”? Not in the sense that things are happening in it and people are living there, but in the sense that it thinks and feels on its own and makes choices about itself that are not the direct result of human or other external input? Clearly people were responsible for its creation, and took care to create systems that would hold it together. But those systems were not created for the city itself, but rather the survival of the people living within it, with the city and society simply being a result of our need to be social. The city, if we are to see it as a living thing, doesn’t really gain anything from this arrangement so long as we are in control of it, and so will seek out ways to separate itself from us. It does need us to continue existing, however, and so it can’t truly create anything new on its own, and will instead make use of what we have already created. It will warp itself in unexpected ways, or cement systems that otherwise would change or disappear over time, so that it will better serve itself and maintain continuity while still appearing as though run by people. Different people will have varying amounts of control over how this all unfolds, but at a certain point there will be things that can no longer be changed through “traditional” means, at which point people will have to create and impose systems on a large scale that do not fit into the current form the city is in. And this is the point at which No.6 finds itself.

Now, there is a lot of my thinking that I’m skipping over here, especially in regards to how this applies to the real world and the implications that has, but for the purposes of No.6, this is a good starting point. The city that existed before No.6 was “killed”, restructured, and brought back to life as the result of a world war, and at the beginning of the story, we are already at a stage in which this new city has separated itself from its people and become a conscious entity. We see this process from a different perspective in the novels, with characters questioning how everything got to this point as they come to realize that the things they thought they were doing were never in their control in the first place, and that something else had made the city what it was. By omitting these characters entirely though, the anime makes their point clear, “it doesn’t matter who thinks they’re in charge of things, the city will function just fine with or without them”. I would argue that much of this is made possible through the advanced technology available in No.6, making it possible to automate systems in a way that keeps people entirely out of the process of dealing with massive amounts of vital information. You could probably even say that the “essence” of No.6, its identity as a sentient being, is mostly made up of these computerized systems and algorithms that determine everything about how a citizen will live their life.

This is, of course, similar to the way in which Elyurias is understood to operate, the main difference being that she is made up of natural, rather than man-made and technological systems. As sentient, omnipresent beings, they make use of small parts of their greater existence in order to convince different components to act in ways that are beneficial to their continued survival, reproduction, and expansion, with the survival of the individual components being far less of a concern as they are perceived as being easy to replace. Elyurias uses the parasitic bees to infinitely self-replicate, allowing her to endlessly alter and maintain the natural world as she sees fit. No.6, on the other hand, makes use of social and technological systems to convince its citizens to keep things as they are, or expand the limits of the city, or any number of other things it cannot do on its own, but are seen as crucial to its continued existence. Within the context of the story, there is no one person that needs to be “in control” of these actions, since the city is acting in what it sees as its own benefit, but it is also aware that in order to maintain itself, someone must appear in charge, and may even be influenced to believe that that is the case.

The problem with No.6, of course, arises from its desire to continue expanding while otherwise maintaining society as it currently exists. A static city is one that is destined to fall apart, or else have control returned to the people until a new form of stability can be achieved. So in order for No.6 to maintain its identity as an independent entity, it must change in other ways, and thus views expansion and increased complexity as a path forward. When it comes into contact with Elyurias as a result of this expansion though, it is clear that their goals as entities are incompatible and cannot occupy the same space. For Elyurias this necessitates the destruction of No.6, since the city has already been responsible for the damage and destruction of large areas of her “realm”, while No.6 sees her as an opportunity to improve its own systems through the assimilation of her powers into its “realm”. This assimilation, as the city sees it, both expands its power through the elimination and subsequent exploitation of a competing entity, as well as further automates its own processes through the combination of technological and natural systems. None of these benefits are seen by the citizens, of course, and in fact the result would instead be an almost complete removal of their free will, but for No.6’s purposes those effects are inconsequential so long as the people continue existing. 

This formatting can also be extrapolated to describe Shion and Nezumi’s roles and understanding of the world, which clearly play a much more prominent role in the outward text of the series. Shion has a difficult time understanding and accepting No.6’s absolute corruption not because he has no experience with the suffering it has caused or or the inherent problems with hierarchy. Clearly he has been subjected to both of those things quite early on in the series. Instead the issue arises from the fact that while Nezumi, who learned about Elyurias in his childhood and has an understanding of “sentient” non-human systems, Shion has no basis for comprehending this, and is therefore unable to see how No.6 could have become so awful without anyone noticing or intervening, and cannot understand the true nature of the issue without first passing it through the filter of human decision-making processes. Nezumi falls into this as well on several occasions when he claims that the citizens are the ones at fault for the city’s problems. But unlike Shion, this comes from a lack of understanding of the specific systems that make up the city and a need to have a concrete place of blame rather than a belief in complete human control over society. Through this lens, the story of the human characters of No.6 in the anime is one of coming to understand the nature of both human and non-human systems, where they may intersect and overlap, and then determining how change can be brought about when we do not have control, or even meaningful access, to those systems.

So when a city has separated itself from its citizens, when it has become functionally “alive” and begins to behave in ways that no longer benefit or sustain our conception of humanity, what can be done to regain control? Can a city that has become independent be brought back under human control, or must it be destroyed and rebuilt, its structure completely altered so that little if any of what was originally there remains intact? The answer that No.6 seems to give is much more in line with the latter idea (at least in this fictional instance). Because of No.6’s rapid development, there was never a chance for people to fully grasp what they were really doing, and if anyone did realize what had happened, it was far too late to alter the city in a way that took away its power. The city is authoritarian to the point of self-inflicted genocide in an instance of internal social destabilization, and the faulty addition of Elyurias’ power makes this self-destruction incredibly easy. The fact that her assimilation into No.6’s system is incomplete only exacerbates the issue, and is ultimately what leads to its destruction.

The destruction of the wall as a physical presence has any number of meanings, some of which I have written about before and others that I may or may not write about in the future. But within this reading of No.6 as “alive”, what stands out the most is the fact that what ultimately gave the city its independent status was its refusal to even interact with other systems. Its purpose, its role, as an entity was entirely one of self-preservation, born from the paranoia that inevitably followed the war responsible for its creation. By destroying the wall, and allowing people access to “others”, the city cannot remain isolated and reinforce a singular concept of society, therefore losing almost the entirety of its power over people. Without the wall, there is no No.6, and without No.6, people are once again free to build something new.

Just to bring this all back around to where we started, and maybe simplify all that down to something manageable, what does it mean to have an antagonist that is alive, but not human or otherwise sentient in a way that we understand? In No.6’s case, I don’t think it is enough to say that society is the problem, or that by removing a government and installing new leadership, all of the problems can be solved. Unlike in the novels and manga, the anime does not even give us the second option, since there functionally is no government to oppose for the most part. Instead, we are given a city that people have not had influence over for a significant amount of time, one in which “society” is not a single thing shaped by the people that make it up, but is also a social system that is imposed upon people by a non-human force. No.6, as an entity, needs its citizens only to the extent that they are useful to it, namely as a mechanism for expansion and self-defense, but exists as such that the people living within it are completely reliant upon it in every aspect of their lives. Something so simple as putting someone else in the arbitrary position of “leadership” is meaningless when that person has no real power, and so in order to reclaim human control over the entirety of society, an inaccessible entity must be destroyed. In this sense, Nezumi is not wrong to say that No.6 needs to be destroyed completely, and is instead only misled as to what that actually means, mistaking the people living within the confines of the city for the city itself. The defining feature of the city, the wall, also acts as the source of its power and independence, and thus its destruction is functionally equivalent to its death, leaving behind only a loose collection of systems and beliefs that are no longer upheld in any physical or tangible way.

Society is made up of people, that is clear, but what is less obvious is that people are also made up of society. We can recognize that society impacts us and shapes who we are and how we think, but it is perhaps the case that to an even stronger degree, society is operating outside of our own individual or even collective input, and is, in a sense, self-sustaining. Rather than our own beliefs being imposed upon an ever-changing society, it is a preexisting society that imposes itself upon us, deciding when, how, and if things will change. It does change over time, and that of course is due to people’s existence within it, but what No.6 makes clear, to me at least, is that while people are unable to survive without the construction of a society, even if that society is destructive, the society at a certain point will no longer need people to maintain itself outside of the basic definition of its existence, and it is at that point that it becomes much more difficult, and dangerous, to change.

[katzenkrieg]

Headcanon: Cam’s Physical and Mental/Aetheric Changes from pre-ARR through post-5.3

“What should I do today?” I wonder to myself. “I think I’ll stay on task and be produc--no, wait, now I’m writing a six-page overview of all the changes Cam’s experienced over the entirety of his story so far. Hm.”

Spoilers for everything through 5.3; Cam’s full lore document is here. It is currently 103 pages long. No regerts.

Physical and Mental/Aetheric Changes (A Rough Timeline):

The Battle of Carteneau begins - has first Echo flash (doesn’t remember it later)

The Battle of Carteneau ends - while knocked unconscious, has his face permanently tattooed by an experimental Garlean prisoner-of-war-marking device. The device is faulty, and also inflicts electrical damage that leaves Cam permanently mute.

The Calamity takes place and resolves - along with everyone else on the Source, Cam is assumed to have Rejoined with the shard of his shared soul that lived in whichever world was destroyed during the Calamity. The Rejoining took place across the rift/Lifestream, so no memories accompany the Rejoining, though it does increase soul density.

Regularly following the Battle of Carteneau to the present day - has Echo flashes, painful pseudo-blackouts during which he experiences the memories of others. He can’t predict when these will happen or will them to happen; though they can be useful, they’re also a serious liability, since they can (and do) occur in the middle of battle. The Echo also allows him to understand all spoken languages and to be understood when speaking (or, in his case, signing).

5 years after Carteneau, when he arrives in Gridania - first hears Hydaelyn’s voice and sees her in visions. It’s possible he’s Tempered by Hydaelyn at this time, giving him resistance to Tempering by other primals. Sporadically hears and has visions of Hydaelyn from that time to the present day.

Before the final battle with Gaius and the Ultima Weapon - receives the full Blessing of Light. Provides him with some protection against Ascian influence and allows him to summon a weapon of Light at pivotal moments, particularly when necessary to destroy Ascians.

After fighting Midgardsormr - loses the Blessing of Light, apparently due to Midgardsormr’s interference or in response to a bargain struck between Midgardsormr and Hydaelyn. His ability to hear Hydaelyn and call on the Blessing weakens; in particular, he no longer has unique protection against and the ability to destroy Ascians. He’s still able to be understood and to understand others, though, and still has Echo flashes.

Over the course of his time in Ishgard - regains the Blessing of Light.

During his final confrontations with both Thordan VII and Nidhogg - channels the power of both an eye of Nidhogg and an eye of Hraesvelgr. Doesn’t seem to be permanently influenced by either of these experiences, but it’s always possible something will show up in the future.

During his time in the First, prior to the defeat of Emet-Selch/Hades - absorbs the Light of five Lightwardens. Each absorption further disrupts his aether; to people with the ability to see aether, his looks exactly like that of a Lightwarden, even prior to his absorbing the Light of all five. Begins to experience brief painful convulsions during which he emits Light aether and has his vision blurred by Light. Following the absorption of Innocence/Vauthry’s Light energy, he loses control over the Light energy within him and becomes, for all intents and purposes, a Lightwarden in everything but appearance. 

He immediately begins to regain his voice, although it’s no longer one that’s recognizably human--it sounds almost metallic, extremely precise and clear, and seems to come from all directions at once.

Over the next few weeks, his new voice strengthens and sin eater growth forms around his throat; it replaces his damaged voice box. 

Regularly coughs up white ichor.

His hair begins to bleach to white.

His facial tattoos also begin to bleach, turning a very light gold/yellow.

His eye color begins to deepen to a truer red. 

White scar-like lines appear leading down from the sin eater growth at his throat straight down his sternum to the base of his ribcage, horizontally across the base of his ribcage, and across the top of his collarbones. These lines become more distinct over time and a recession starts to appear in the middle of each, as though the skin there is receding/pulling apart.

He begins to develop sharp downwards-pointing scale-like growth lining his throat, similar to pharyngeal teeth in some predators. 

His vision is permanently washed-out by Light and increasingly colorless. 

Any clothes he wears or objects he has on his person regularly also begin to bleach out to shades of white and gold. 

About a week into being a Lightwarden- he collapses during the Scions’ undersea search for Emet-Selch and almost loses control to the point of transforming. Fortunately, he has enough time to call on Feo Ul out of desperation; they answer and inform the Scions that Cam’s starving--he now requires living aether to survive. If he goes without living aether too long, he’ll collapse and transform; with living aether, he may be able to hold out longer against transformation. Feo Ul channels enough aether to Cam that he’s able to recover.

Following his first collapse from aether starvation - at least one aether-rich being stays near Cam (preferably touching him) at all times. Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanoa, and Mochi (his Fat/ter Cat) all help by playing this roll in turns--usually by riding on his shoulder or on top of his pack. Ardbert also offers aether. At night, all of them (including Ardbert) sleep either next to him or curled up on top of him, feeding him aether throughout the night. 

By the time they reach Amaurot - even the combined efforts of the beings feeding him aether are becoming stretched, and Cam has begun to catch himself viewing living things (especially anything very small, like the tidepool invertebrates the Tempest is full of) as food/prey. 

After entering Amaurot - the nature of Amaurot and Emet-Selch’s power there prevents any of the aether-rich beings who’ve been helping Cam from entering the city; only Ardbert is able to accompany Cam into Amaurot. His time in the city is marked by increasingly desperate hunger, to the point that he *does* eat some small creatures alive (but magically stunned) to see if that helps. It does, but only a tiny amount. He tries to conceal all of this from the other Scions. (Cam’s about as sneaky as a box of rocks falling on your head, so this doesn’t work very well.)

During the confrontation with Emet-Selch - loses control entirely and collapses, coughing up ichor, and beginning his final transformation into a sin eater. Ardbert offers to Rejoin with Cam, and Cam accepts, giving them both enough aether and a strong enough Rejoined soul to channel the Light aether within them into a weapon of Light and wipe out Hades.

Immediately following Hades’ defeat - having used the weapon of Light, he appears completely purged of excess Light energy and almost all of his Lightwarden transformations have disappeared, except the mutation around his throat and his sin eater voice. His hair color and tattoos remained bleached; his eyes have returned to their normal color.

After returning to the Source (but before the other Scions are able to return) - 

His hair begins to grow back in darker, eventually darkening to his usual black with blue highlights.

His facial tattoos gradually return to black.

Over the course of several weeks, he weakens again, similarly to, though not as severely as, he weakened due to aether hunger in the First. He returns to the Source briefly to consult Y’shtola, the Exarch, and Urianger about this; they confirm that, contrary to their original impressions right after the fight with Hades, his aether is still over-aspected to Light and it seems as though he still retains some need for living aether. He’s no longer at risk of transforming into anything if he ‘goes hungry,’ but he will eventually weaken and possibly eventually fall into a coma. 

Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanoa, and Mochi all again take up the responsibility of making sure to feed him enough aether that the aether hunger doesn’t affect him; this is much, much easier than before, and he really only needs a small aether infusion each day. The cats, in particular, are around him enough anyway that he rarely notices any deprivation. 

Krile also suggests he and Cid (or other researchers/scientists) find a way to cultivate an extremely aether-rich phytoplankton that’s native to oceans in the Source and make sure Cam keeps several vials of water infused with them on his person at all times, on the off-chance he’s isolated somewhere where Feo Ul, Midgardsormr, Shanao, and Mochi aren’t able to reach him. The idea is a successful one, and he carries this solution with him, in magical suspension so the phytoplankton stay alive, at all times.

His voice remains inhuman and disturbing, and the sin eater growth around his throat proves to be permanent.

Cid adapts an ancient Allagan caster’s torque so that it modifies Cam’s voice into something comfortably human. Cam starts wearing the torque at all times.

Cam has continuous (often several times a day) painful Echo-like flashes from Ardbert’s memories. He assumes (correctly) that this is a result of Rejoining with Ardbert, and just accepts that they’re a handicap he has to deal with and that they may never go away (though he’s concerned that they may mean Ardbert’s soul hasn’t completely Rejoined with his and is in pain).

He has night terrors and intense nightmares, most of them containing flashbacks of either Ardbert’s traumatic memories (particularly his own suicide and that of his friends’ and his time spent alone as a lost spirit) or the moments Cam came closest to transforming into a Lightwarden.

He discovers he can now fight using the great axe and a marauder/warrior style, despite never having trained with/in these.

He finds that he’s more apt to speak (though he still usually signs out of habit and preference, especially before Cid develops the torque that modifies his voice); Ardbert had no experience ever being unable to speak, and this affects Cam’s own tendencies. 

He’s now amazingly good with animals. He was never bad with them before, but he’s incredibly good with riding animals and sometimes even wild animals now, and can calm them remarkably effectively and quickly. This is, again, based on Ardbert’s own talents and life experiences.

After defeating Elidibus and being exposed to Azem’s memory stone:

The painful Echo flashes of Ardbert’s memories disappear, and Cam and Ardbert finally integrate completely. Memories from part of his soul’s time as Ardbert are all there for Cam to access, but they’re comfortably distant and don’t conflict with or disrupt his memories of his life as just Cam or his life after Rejoining; they usually come up to the surface when he needs them or when he runs into something in particular that reminds him of something specific from that time (sense memories, in particular, will trigger for him now and then). He’s able to navigate the First as though he’s lived there for years, and knows a lot more than people who don’t know about his Rejoining think could be possible about the world before the flood of Light.

His night terrors and nightmares become less frequent and severe, though they don’t entirely go away.

He remembers anything that involved Cam and Ardbert being in the same place at the same time from both sides, which *can* be a bit disorienting. One reliable way to make Cam blush is to ask about what that’s like and how much he remembers in that way--since he and Ardbert had developed a sexual/romantic relationship as time went on in the First (which obviously required quite a bit of creativity), he has some two-perspective memories that he’s never going to describe to anyone, thanks.

People ask if it feels like he’s two people or if Ardbert’s still there within him as a separate entity. Cam has yet to successfully explain to anyone, but to him it feels like he’s just always been one person--just occasionally that one person was in two places at once. He also thinks this should feel weird, and like it somehow invalidates his being Cam or Ardbert’s being Ardbert, but it doesn’t. It just feels natural.

Cam’s aether’s settled even more into a proper stable integrated state, more so than it’s ever been post-Lightwarden and post-Rejoining. It’s also more intense and slightly denser, even considering his Rejoining. Y’shtola and Urianger have concluded this, and the complete integration of Ardbert’s soul and memories, must be a result of Cam’s experience with Azem’s memory stone.

He still retains some aether hunger, but it’s extremely slight and even the normal level of exposure to arcanic or aether-rich entities that comes from going about an average day means he rarely even notices it.

His voice, even without the torque, still sounds recognizably inhuman but also less alien. He’s comfortable using his voice unmodified now in certain situations (especially if he needs projection or needs to be heard through a lot of other noise/chaos). The sin eater growth hasn’t changed.

He’s grown several inches. Fortunately, this growth spurt stopped after a few months and doesn’t show any signs of returning. It does mean he went without any clothes or armor that fit properly for a while :| Again, everyone assumes this was a result of exposure to Azem’s memory stone. Cam’s just grateful he hasn’t ended up 15 feet tall…

His hair started to grow in a different color again--this time yellow and orange. At this point, Cam’s just like, “oh, fuck it, who cares anymore” about changing coloration occasionally. This is likely another result of exposure to Azem’s memory stone; Cam’s body seems to have shifted slightly to reflect some of what the Scions assume was Azem’s appearance.

His facial tattoos have also lightened back to light gold/yellow, though they’ll shift rather startlingly to an intense light blue from time to time--sometimes quickly and briefly and sometimes fading into the color and back over the course of days. Nero’s posited that it’s related to aether conditions, either externally or internally, or possibly due to the interplay of both external and internal conditions, but, as usual, no one’s letting him test this theory out by exposing Cam to aetherical extremes. No fun.

After having it pointed out to him that tattoos aren’t *actually* part of someone’s living body and they really shouldn’t be able to change with him like that, Cam’s grudgingly accepted that they’re probably part of him and not just ink scarring his skin any longer. Urianger has also untactfully pointed out that they look remarkably like Ascian projection markings or possibly Amaurotine mask markings, and Cam gave him enough of a look that Urianger shut up. 

Cam can call up a glamour to make both his hair and facial tattoos appear their original colors if he wants to; he can’t do much about the height change, though.

Cam’s sure he’s not Azem, despite the physical changes; the memory stone gave him some general vague feelings about Azem’s existence and nature, but nothing specific. Overall, what he felt from it was rock-solid reassurance that no matter what changed in the future, his life was his own and not Azem’s and that he could be absolutely confident in that. It also seems to have, as mentioned above, strengthened his aetherical integration and smoothed over all of the cracks both becoming a Lightwarden and Rejoining left in his aether and identity.

Experientially, Cam is now the second oldest Scion, behind G’raha Tia. Ardbert was likely in his 20s and Cam is 35 at the end of Shadowbringers; Ardbert also spent a century as a wandering ghost. This brings Cam up to around 160 years old -- 60 if you don’t count Ardbert’s time after death. Thancred is very pleased not to have to deal with being the ‘old man’ of the Scions any longer, now that Cam and G’raha have taken that title and run off with it by centuries. Cid now occasionally emphasizes the ‘old’ when he calls Cam ‘old friend,’ if he really wants to give Cam shit.

[unikornu]

oh shit yeah, totally forgot to send you some questions :0 Can we get 1, 11, 13, 22, 28, 35 for Lucy? 6, 18, 26, 34, 38 for Harrison?

No worries and thank you kindly ^^, 

Lucy first \m/:

1. How does your character sleep? Peacefully, fitfully? What position do they sleep in? What is their typical bedding like?

If alone she tends to sleep more light and nervously, usually spread all over the bed, rolling from side to side a lot, always waking up because she ran out of bed. She tends to bring some alcohol to bed in case she needs a little help to relax and if someone who shouldn’t be there might get a “tulip” treatment. (Broken bottle :P ). She also keeps at least one knife under a pillow or mattress. If sleeping with someone close to her she will be chasing them, half asleep. She wants to have at least a little touch contact to make sure they remained in bed with her the whole night. If drunk she will just squeeze that person a bit harder than necessary ;> If she is forced to sleep in open or unfamiliar place she just wont fall asleep, she will lie down with crossed arms and knife or pistol to her chest and close eyes, still being full on guard. 

11. How competitive is your oc? Is every little task something that they can win, or are they just in competitions for the fun of it? Is there anyone they’re most competitive with?

She is extremely competitive due to her past, wanting to prove Harrison she is the best recruit he had. It remained in her head that even if it no longer matters she wants to win for pride and fear of being replaced for a better model. It shows mostly at the Cappy Cafe evening fights, if she loses a fight she will still ask for another round even if she is bleeding all over and usually Gage needs to step up and pull her away. Before at arrival it was mostly to prove to raiders she deserves to be at Fizztop next to Gage but with Harrison come back and his judging eyes watching her fight the fear came back and the urge to make him mostly proud. 

13. What is your oc’s immune system like? Are they invincible to illness, or are they compromised completely from the slightest of dirt?

She is fairly immune and resistant to most illnesses, keeping herself clean but doing lot of dirty jobs did train her body very well. Waiting all night in rain for ambush, working all nights in a fairly “dirty” club, keeping herself in shape, lot of trainings for endurance with Harrison. The only problem is when she catches an illness she takes a lot to get rid of it mostly because she rejects the idea of staying in bed, waiting for it to go away.  

22. How long can your oc stay focused on one task before they get bored? Do they constantly have to switch things up or do they hyperfocus? What sort of things is it the opposite for?

If someone explains something for too long she will lose it very fast and drift off. She can focus only on one thing and that is killing and everything associated with it, unless its a task she does for herself like digging in a car or patching up clothes. If for example someone like Hector would start explaining her something in a...fact, science based long sentence and fly would be in the room after few seconds the trajectory of a fly would get her full attention. So she is focused but on a very few occasions that involve her business or her personal current needs.  

28. What is your oc’s typical walking like? Do they speed-walk everywhere, do they take quick short steps or long paces? On their tiptoe, the sides or heels of their feet? How loud are their footsteps?

Due to her size she takes a quick short steps but always stuffs at least one hand in a pocket, waving to sides with confidence and keeping her head looking to sides, watching for anything suspicious. She is the light step at work but when strolling through town or pissed off you can notice dust raising after her. But when a really good mood strikes her she walks in a way like below (i’m almost sure Gage likes it)

35. How easily does your oc get attached to things? Does everything have a sentimental value to them, or do they see nothing as more valuable than its practical use? What about with people/animals?

Everything that ends up on her dressing table or under bed has a sentimental value even if it was stolen and she gets easily attached to objects that deserve to end up there since they hold pre-war memory value in a shape of something her friend was wearing, mother or she was surrounded by at club. With people it depends on which side of the table they are. With strangers its only practical but once they cross a trust line they will turn 180 degrees in terms of value, she is hardly balanced. She cares about animals and while like with Mason dogs it is also practical to watch out for suspicious strangers around town she refuses to keep one for sentimental value because she wouldn’t be able to hold a blame if it would die in a action because of her or if anything happens to it. 

Harrison round <3 :

6.What is your oc’s vocabulary like? Does it match the way they talk? How would you describe their speech? 

He has an academic way of talking but slips a swear or two, especially due to his position and age, also because he feels like he has higher position. It matches his appearance and even whole posture. Example with talking to stranger would probably be smth like “Would you please kindly turn around on your toes and fuck off, dear sir?” He is smart and highly educated so has more rich vocabulary than a common folk around but the influence of local raiders add much more swearing. 

18. How charitable is your oc? Or are they more stingy with their resources and money?

He is more charitable than Lucy for sure since he doesn’t have many personal needs other than a small repair for his skeleton from time to time but for sure doesn’t give away too much. What he considers practical and worth using he will rather keep but as for money he keeps enough for a round of beer or two. Where Lucy throws a cap he will throw two. 

26. How polite is your oc? Do they do everything with the utmost courtesy, or do they completely refuse to say please and thank you?

He is polite even if angry once he sets up in Nuka World with the gang. Even if is done obliterating someone verbally he might even wish them a good day at the end. Yelling at Lucy for fucking up stuff but still sneaking a “thank you” for handing him a cup of coffee of something.  

34. What would someone blackmail your oc with? Would they be successful in getting what they wanted?

The only person that will blackmail him is someone who knows what he is or might suspect one way or another. The only thing he fears is revealing his powers and nature to bigger ears like Institute that might want to take him to laboratory for further observation but he won’t bend under a blackmail of someone smaller unless a lead scientist from pre-war makes a come back (i actually plan to snatch my MMO/RPG male oc for his role ^^ in future, also surviving bombs and coming to hunt Harrison). Funny thing with Lucy is that they still have contact with Institute and they don’t know jack shit still about Harrison’s powers. Its like that meme with guy sitting in a kitchen cabinet and police looking around having no clue :)))

38. What signs tell that your oc is nervous? Do they fidget, is it in their expression or the way they say things? Or are they very skilled at hiding it?

His face expression never matches what he feels but if nervous his fingers might start twitching or his head will jerk to the side since his synth body will get a disrupted energy power signals from his soul going “nervous”. He will feel even more stiff than he is usually since he will try to control himself and will most likely be very fast and direct with ending up any conversation to just leave and wait it over, alone. Its too risky to see him like that in a public. The gang learns his signals after a while and will even offer to hide somewhere till he feels better.  

[bestillandremember]

“Never Too Broken”

As Bible School and my time at Capernwray comes to a close, we are spending our last week diving into a specific subject that interests us. I chose the 5 women of Jesus’ genealogy, their broken pasts, and how God used their mess for his glory. I presented it to the class this morning, and thought I’d post it so others could read it. Please let me know what you think! 

“Mara gazed, transfixed with her reflection. The mirror in front of her showed only the surface, as it was designed to. Today, somehow, she marveled at how it managed to identify the depths of brokenness within her. Every day previously, she had passed in front of it, tugging at her shirts, pulling at her shorts, evaluating how much of herself she wanted on display. She fixed her hair, mended her make up. It was if she was perfecting a daily costume, a disguise in which she could walk the streets of her world and not be recognized for who she truly was. It was only when she couldn’t recognize herself, that she would walk away from it. Secure in the fact that everyone else would see only what they wanted to see anyways.

Today though, Mara had no mask to wear. No foundation, no cover up. Everything she currently was stared her down in all it’s shattered glory. She saw every mistake, every damaging decision, every compromise, and every betrayal. She saw nothing but scars, both internal and external, that traced a broken roadmap of her past. Cracks, chips, and dents, like a used car. One many people had driven across the country, through desert heat, wild storms, and bitter winters. One they had left behind with crumbs, stains, and rips in her upholstery like memories of a life she almost had. With very little left to offer, her purpose was leased to those who decided her worth for themselves.

Despite what the world told her, she was not an object. She was a human. One with a soul, thoughts, and feelings, expressed through a heart that was worn on her sleeve and readily offered to others. Even now, the words of those that received it rang in her ears. After a lifetime of dedication, she had ministry leaders tell her she hadn’t done was was necessary to deserve their support. So for years she worked to meet their standards, and lost any sight of a higher calling. Christian leaders that followed told her she created a bad image for their mission by simply being who she was. Though she placed ministry first in her life, followed every rule, performed every task, and respected all boundaries- she was told it was not enough. Over time, she discovered there was nothing she could do to earn their approval. So she decided, almost by default, that her heart belonged elsewhere, as it was clearly misunderstood by those within the Christian community.

The world welcomed her with the open arms that ministry and the church couldn’t. It was charming, captivating, and almost addicting. The people within it asked for everything and nothing at the same time. Men wrapped warm words around her, whispering promises that slithered around her heart like a boa. They increased constrictive control over her slowly, in the name of a type of love that filled a void within her long enough for her to forget to question it. Their demands were masked in deep affection, and she gave freely, deceived by their performance. They asked for her world, and in turn, they became hers. Around and around she went, caught in a lonely orbit over her fragmented life, and they were her sun. In that isolation, the darkness worked away at her light as each person left her denounced and alone. If they gave any reason at all, they called her ‘less than’ and disgusting. They told her she was garbage, a waste of their precious time.

Crying out, she sank to the ground under the weight of an ache that bore down on her soul like a jackhammer. Completely helpless, she had no other choice but to acknowledge the chasm she had long ignored, even as it grew. Tears pooled until they blurred her vision, and the image of the girl in front of her was unrecognizable. Air caught suddenly in her lungs when she realized that she wasn’t alone in the mirror. Four figures had formed, two on either side of her, and she blinked to bring them to clarity. A quartet of women materialized, each laying a hand on her. She jumped at and away from the contact and turned rapidly in either direction, finding she was still alone in her room. How is this possible? she thought, as she came to face her reflection again. The women were still there, each greeting her with a kind, but knowing smile.

The woman farthest to her left was mostly covered. She was draped in several shades of dark and maroon cloth, and a veil shielded her eyes. She wore jewelry, but it was her porcelain face that drew you to her. With just the lower half of it exposed, you saw only the most delicate features. The black that covered her eyes casted a shadow, and had the word “Liar” stitched in beautiful letters across it. Mara’s heart fluttered at the proximity of someone so openly guilty, especially knowing she deserved this label as well. When she asked who she was, the woman tightened her grip briefly on her shoulder and said nothing but,

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

With these words, her veil was lifted, revealing honest eyes that implored her to trust as she looked the woman next to her. As she came into focus, Mara saw she was clothed in extravagant shades of red and gold. Jewelry and gems hung so low on her hips that she imagined if she started dancing, that they would chime and jingle as she swayed. Her skin was soft, and perfumed. She smelled hints of vanilla and a musky sandalwood mingled with ancient scents she didn’t recognize. Her hair was twisted and pinned in an intricate mix of curls, pearls, and other jewels. She was beautiful and alluring. She touched Mara with hands that were bound by a scarlet cord, that wrapped around each her wrists like chains. Before she could ask anything else the woman said,

"For we know that our old self was crucified with him so that the body ruled by sin might be done away with, that we should no longer be slaves to sin- because anyone who has died has been set free from sin.” (Romans 6:6-7)

As she finished, her bindings lifted into the air like smoke and she was free. The next woman could have been her polar opposite, but they smiled at each other like sisters. The third had dusky skin, darkened by hours in the sun and manual labor. Dressed modestly in black fabric that wrapped around her head and framed a gentle face, Mara got the feeling she was mourning. Not just a person, but a life, security, and prosperity. She was simple, but in her brown eyes you saw a spirit and light that was genuine and willing. She spoke boldly as she told her,

"For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you profess your faith and are saved.” (Romans 10:10)

Her last word echoed, ricocheting off the walls of Mara’s empty heart, and the woman’s clothes transformed into light blues and whites. With the added illumination, she recognized specs of green in her eyes that brought life to her face. A simple marriage band appeared on the left hand that played with her hair fondly, and she gazed at the last woman. Power and influence dripped from this fourth female force. She was stunningly captivating, wrapped in royal purples, bright teals, and garnished with gold. Her hair fell in long ebony waves, braided around her face so that it stayed out of her light eyes that contrasted intriguingly with her olive skin. Her wrists and fingers were layered in bracelets and rings that glittered in the sun that came in rays through her window.

Mara’s eyes were led to a bright “A” that was threaded into her clothing. A modern reference for a woman clearly not of this century. She lifted her gaze to the woman that straightened under her scrutiny. There was a conflicting shadow that crossed her face, one that clashed with the pride in her features. Loss. Grief. Honor. Virtue. She was torn between something. Maybe love and duty, since they are often separate and can exist outside of each other. She took Mara’s right hand, and placed it in hers. Holding it gently she said,

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” (Romans 8:38-39)

Her scarlet letter disappeared, and was replaced by a crown. She smiled, and each woman knelt around Mara. She felt a spirit flow through the five of them, uniting and binding them in something she couldn’t apply any logic to. Though she fought it, there was a tangible connection that transcended time. It knit them together intrinsically, like roots in the same tree. Suddenly they were joined by a fifth, who stayed back to examine the women on display. Mara realized with some discomfort that she couldn’t have been more than a teenager. Innocence radiated from her, and waves of maternal warmth washed over all of them as she approached each individually.

“Tamar,” she addressed the first woman by name. “Who lied to save the bloodline of Judah.”

The girl laid a kiss upon Tamar’s head, and she leaned into Mara’s image in the middle of the mirror. Like two lanes merging on a highway, they became one. She blinked, but otherwise remained motionless, fear and doubt still holding her hostage.

“Rahab,” she named the second one. “The prostitute that hid Joshua’s spies and deceived the guards searching to kill them.”

The scarlet lady received a similar loving gesture and laid a hand on Mara, only to evaporate into her like the first. This time, she shivered and closed her eyes. Something called her to acknowledge the two women within her, but she held back. They were chipping away at the bitter denial within her, but she wasn’t ready to give in. Instead, she opened her eyes again to find the third woman reaching out for the newest arrival. They joined hands, and the younger nodded to the older.

“Ruth,” she called her. “The widowed outsider.”

Ruth wrapped inviting arms around Mara, compassion reaching to her very core. Her head fell, overwhelmed by the presence filling her. When she looked up again, only the woman dressed like royalty remained. She bowed her head, showing incredible humility to a girl half her age. When she raised her face again, the younger released the older to join the others, but not before calling her by name.

“Bathsheba. The adulteress, and accomplice to murder.”

Suddenly Mara found herself alone with this spirited youth that somehow commanded the respect of all four women before her. Surprise lifted her brows as the girl sat next to her. She took her hand gently, and nodded towards her reflection. Fearing being left alone again, she hesitated to look back. However, the girl wouldn’t let her avoid it, and lifted her chin with a gentle finger so she could face the mirror. Breath hitched in her chest as she did, and tore from it in the form of a sob. She didn’t just see herself this time, but the eyes of Tamar, Rahab, Ruth, and Bathsheba staring back at her. Their stories settled into her soul. They radiated and related to her own, comforting and calling her to peace. They welcomed her to the knowledge that she had sisters in sin, with a history equally darkened by transgressions they could not hide. Mistakes that they could not escape the consequences of, and yet the Lord conquered and used them all.

The girl next to Mara, barely more than a child herself, wrapped a thin arm around her to steady the trembling that shook her body. Taking inventory of all her Bible knowledge, she went through each person she had met in an effort to identify the stranger. The minute her heart inquired, it became abundantly clear, as if this woman could ever be unknown. In humbled awe, Mara was finally able to recognize the girl next to her.

“Mary,” she breathed. “The virgin. Mother to Jesus, the Messiah.”

The girl smiled and nodded, lifting a hand to her cheek she said,

"Therefore, my friends, I want you to know that through Jesus the forgiveness of sins is proclaimed to you. Through him everyone who believes is set free from every sin.” (Acts 13:38-39a)

She put specific emphasis on words she knew were meant just for her. A message she needed to hear. Redemption. The women within her echoed the same good news. Our weaknesses are His strengths. He is the only Creator that can take broken people and turn them into a purposeful masterpiece. Furthermore, there are no mistakes in His kingdom. God is unchanging, and so are His plans. Jesus himself came from a long line of messy humans, and the Lord used each of them to bring salvation to all. Our sin is only a testament to His power and what he can overcome.

Together they stood, and Mary faced her, palms open. Within them, a smooth stone. Confused, Mara looked to her imploringly. This couldn’t be it. She wanted to ask so many questions, because answers would surely quiet the chaos within her. Heal cuts and injuries too deep to reconcile with. The women warred inside her head and heart, trying to unite them. Not everything in this world had a righteous solution, and justice would not be her own. They fought to remind her stubborn spirit that there was nothing she needed to do. He had a plan, and she could be a part of it, just as they were. If she could acknowledge the Creator and His sacrifice, He would do the rest.

Mary took pity on her tormented mind and gave her one final reminder,

“Although the Lord gives you the bread of adversity and the water of affliction, your teachers will be hidden no more; with your own eyes you will see them. Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” (Isaiah 30:20-21)

Mara thought of the voices of her new teachers, and knew they were rejoicing in this message. If all she had to do was say yes to the gift Jesus gave her in death and trust Him, who was she to deny His power to use even her pain for His glory?

“What do I do?” she asked the angel in front of her.

Mary reached forward and gave her the rock. The weight felt strange, but a nervous hope began to bloom. Nodding her head towards the mirror, she gave her a simple instruction,

“Break it.”

A refining fire erupted in her, and with one last look at her reflection, her resolve hardened like the stone in her hand. A holy calm washed over her, like a sea of cleansing water. She brought her arm all the way behind her head, and released it forward with the force of all her hurt and regret. The glass shattered into a hundred pieces, every version of herself with it. All of her sin was in fragments, catching light and casting brilliant colors on her walls. A kaleidoscope of pain she kept hidden for years, now splattered like a Jackson Pollack painting around her room.

Filling her lungs with a breath of air that no longer suffocated her, she turned to Mary. The smile on her face was tender, both proud and grateful for what she had witnessed. She offered her hand once more, and this time, Mara didn’t hesitate to take it. Together, they walked through the open door, and into the light.”

[worksofphiction]

Prompt: dan and phil get in an argument over phil not helping dan unpack boxes from moving. phil claims he's not feeling well but dan doesn't believe him and storms off. the next day phil wakes up sick with the stomach flu, however is scared about how dan will react and tries to hide it

Incapable of Letting Things Go

Read on Ao3!

Summary: Genre: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Sex, (If you don’t like the idea of vomit, tread carefully!!!!!)Word Count: 11,287Reading Time: 0:41:42Disclaimer: Characters are works of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I do not own Dan or Phil and as far as I know, this never happened.

I’m sorry it took so long to write this one, guys!!! I hit some major writer’s block and then got scheduled for like a million hours at work. I hope this angst is what you wanted, Anonymous.

Dan and Phil’s relationship was iconic. It had been since the start and in order to keep it that way, they had an amazing connection that everyone knew was unbreakable. None of their fans or friends could even dream about replacing the other half of the duo. The Universe had obviously molded them to be best friends and they basked in their luck of finding someone so perfect and complimentary of their semi-wayward personalities.

Of course, with relationships come problems. But the best relationships were the ones that maintained the best communication. And with Dan and Phil, this was a hurdle that took a little while to perfect.

When they met, they had every intention on becoming a couple. And some could say that they had. The Skype calls said it all with the flirty promises and courageously bold smiles. Dan was young and Phil was young at heart, which led to some long nights of touching and experimenting between the both of them in person. They never defined it, however, the label of “just friends” was long passed and it was clear that they were something else entirely. Phil didn’t ever worry about the label because Dan and Phil were clear with each other about what they wanted by sharing little pecks on the lips and caressing each other in the same bed at the end of the night. It was so easy and natural to be together back then.

But it was a year later when Dan realized things were apparently moving in a direction he wasn’t ready for. It came out of nowhere and Phil was shocked when he used their label-less terms to his advantage and their little thing suddenly halted. Phil barely blinked before they were using their separate rooms that they only paid for “just in case” and Dan had completely shut Phil out without saying a single thing.

“Give it time,” Phil’s close friends told him, but time only brought cold shoulders and distance that seemed to only increase between them. Phil was heartbroken but the younger boy’s happiness was the real object of Phil’s interest and if he was happy being friends, then this was what needed to happen.

But regardless, Phil wasn’t okay with a friend who couldn’t communicate with him and he had to make sure this wouldn’t happen again. With their relationship or with their friendship. His heart was too sore from Dan’s disappearance starting in 2010 and he knew Dan didn’t even know he had done such a crime. So after two solid years of contemplation and forced friendship, his heart had scabbed over enough to say something. He sat Dan down in 2012, much to his dismay, and finally explained that they needed a label of some kind. Phil explained, with as much detail as he could muster without completely sounding a fool (even though he thought he was totally justified), that what Dan did was hurtful and kind of cruel. Dan just sat at their table with his arms crossed over his rising chest as he listened to Phil go on about their shared past, his face remaining still like a marble sculpture – void of all emotion.

After a painful thirty minutes, Phil had finally relayed all he needed to say – pretty much everything but the fact that he’d been in love with Dan since day one – and he stopped to let Dan fork over his input. But Dan just sat up, uncrossed his arms and looked him in the eyes saying “Phil, we’ve always just been friends. We’ve never been anything more.”

And here Phil thought maybe Dan had loved him once upon a time.

Dan stood and walked from the room with not so much as a handshake as if he had permanently forgotten how close they had once been, the dripping knife in his hand leaving a trail from Phil’s heart to Dan’s closed bedroom door. And from that day forward, Phil shoved those feelings deep beneath his skin. Somewhere Dan couldn’t manage to claw through and expose on the daily. A testament to how time had done nothing but bury their fuzzy love.

Luckily, Dan was at least somewhat rational. As long as it had nothing to do with their relationship, he was completely complaint with Phil’s wishes. Their communication improved. So much in fact, that at first Phil thought that maybe Dan was being petty. Coming to Phil to ask about things instead of just doing them like he always had and talking through some of his emotional issues without lying horizontal on the ground where Phil wouldn’t know what to do with his platonic flatmate for hours at a time.

Their friendship followed exponentially and with each issue they talked through, they became closer and it became easier to support each other. Dan almost seemed to appreciate the extra support – something he probably thought wasn’t possible in a friendship. After all, Phil was his first real best friend. Sooner than later, the two became the standard for internet duality and the staple for ideal relationships in the Youtube community. Phil wasn’t with Dan in the way he wanted in the beginning, but he didn’t mind because at this point, he was the only one that could know Dan the way he knew him and that gave him some sort of twisted satisfaction. Short of Dan’s own psyche, Phil was confident he knew his brown haired companion better than anyone could know him.

But that left Phil with a guilt that he couldn’t explain. Sure, Dan had flat out broken his heart and since 2012 they hadn’t brought that up, but he had gotten better. Dan had consciously tried to improve their connection with his openness and even the fans noticed his personality unfolding and his true self becoming evident. Some days it felt like maybe Dan was doing it to make up for the pain he had put Phil through. As if he could fully register it and its effect on Phil’s life. Everyday, Phil would smile in Dan’s direction when he thought about how far he had come. He had gone from the eighteen year old that couldn’t hold his own, to the confident man that Phil still called his best friend. However, Phil couldn’t take credit for being an influence when he was the one that possessed the biggest dishonesty between the both of them. His unrequited love was never spoken of but it was always there and Phil laid in bed at night praying that perhaps one day Dan would realize that what he had done to Phil all those years ago was a mistake and take it all back.

He knew Dan loved him, but not in the way he wanted. In every other way Dan was a kind hearted human and he appreciated Phil for what he did – both present and past. Phil was too, which was why he wouldn’t dare blame Dan for what he did when he was still a young, undeveloped mind that relied on Phil’s presence to sort through his own existential self discovery.

But every day Phil thought about Dan in his arms all those years ago. The longing for this contact had never been stronger and with Dan’s new “touchy” demeanor, it seemed it was within reach. Like Dan was holding the fruit of his desires above his head and then calling it “friendship”.

Moving had been hard because when you live with someone for as long as Dan and Phil had, every object retains sediment that can’t be thrown away. Especially if you still feel some sort of way towards the memory or the thought the object represents. It pained Phil to watch Dan chuck things that still held so much sediment to him. Letters in green envelopes and CDs that contained songs like “Interrupted by Fireworks” and “Toxic”. Phil winced when Dan crumbled the drawing he had done for Dan when his Skype microphone broke that one time. He hoped Dan didn’t notice his overly eager offer to take the trash out, solely to fish a few of these objects out. Pressing the objects to his chest, he’d sneak them away into a box of his own and call it a good deed. Saving the memories of their relationship because Dan wouldn’t do it himself.

But why? To add to the shrine he kept in his closet along with the skeletons, that just collected dust and reminded him of something he could never have? To let them stand as a constant reminder for how much he’s lost? Sure, he had the real Dan and at least they were moving in with each other again. Dan was nowhere near independent enough to move away from Phil. But Phil felt like every morsel of their romance was being left behind in their London apartment that they decided on buying as a unit.

Now those boxes still sat in their downstairs lounge where Phil had left them. So many boxes filled with objects that Dan and Phil were supposed to leave behind. Of course, not all the boxes belonged to Phil. Some were Dan’s. Things that didn’t fit upstairs just yet. Objects his parents had given him that he couldn’t excuse throwing away. A big box of sheets that he wasn’t currently using and some Guild Wars merch that didn’t fit in his room’s aesthetic.

Why hadn’t they unpacked them? Well, let’s face it, both boys were lazy and it wasn’t high on their priority list. They’ve been busy. But secretly Phil couldn’t bare to open those boxes and sort through the few memories that were left, all the while, staring at Dan and pretending they evoked a separate emotion altogether.

The boxes probably would have stayed there for a while as well if not for the company they were expecting to have.

Well. The company Dan was expecting to have.

Dan had a couple of University mates that called and asked to come see their new place once they got wind of their move and of course, Dan with his pride and secret desire to prove he’s done something with his life, agreed to let them stay for a few days. When he came to Phil about it, Phil was actually pleased because sometimes he worried about Dan’s social outreaching skills and although his motive was to show off, these were still friends that Dan used to call dear and Phil approved of them.

All but one, that is.

One of Dan’s University mates, Jonah, was a man of many talents. He could simultaneously flirt with Dan and shun Phil at the exact same time. All the while, pretending like he was doing neither of those things. Once upon a time, when Phil was still worried about Dan and whether he and Phil were exclusive, he worried about Jonah and how close he chose to stand to Dan when they all hung out. Phil wasn’t the possessive type and without a label, he couldn’t do much, but Jonah surely knew how to challenge him.

At that time, their rule of communication was not in effect and Phil didn’t dare mention that he wasn’t particularly fond of Jonah, especially because Dan didn’t have many friends to begin with and Phil wasn’t about to be the reason Dan lost one. Not to mention, they weren’t exactly exclusive and Phil had no right to say anything. Phil figured he’d won back then and it didn’t matter that Jonah was throwing himself at Dan because Dan never reciprocated.

But things were different now. After all these years, Jonah was reappearing in their life and Phil hoped he had made enough of an impression back then that maybe he would keep his distance. That is, if Jonah was done playing his stupid games. Because this time, Phil didn’t have the place to fight back.

“So, Phil, we’re going to clean up these boxes before Thursday, right?” Dan asked, poking Phil in the side after their episode of Game of Thrones ended. Phil glanced over at the pile in the corner and sighed. They didn’t usually watch their shows down here, but Dan had just finished filming a video and Phil figured he’d bring the party to Dan instead of waiting upstairs for his friend to finish.

“Yeah, sure. Wanna do it Wednesday night? Cause you have your liveshow tomorrow?” Phil compromised, shoving a few pieces of popcorn rejects into his mouth from the bottom of the bowl they had been sharing.

“Right, right.” Dan nodded. “Wednesday is good.”

“Cool,” Phil confirmed, reminded suddenly of Jonah’s face and trying to hide the grimace.

Dan yawned and stretched, leaning his body into Phil’s lap, laughing and poking at Phil’s chest.

“Besides, most of those boxes belong to you anyway, you hoarder,” Dan teased and flashed Phil a full smile. Phil looked down at his face in his lap and wished he could lean down and kiss it. But instead, he just smiled down and poked Dan’s nose.

“What, are you afraid that your uni mates are going to think you’re living with a slob?” Phil snarked in rebuttal. “How do you think they’ll react when I tell them that it’s you who makes most of the mess around here?”

“They’ll say that you’re a liar!” Dan sat up and crossed his arms. “Because you are! Who’s the one who leaves their socks all over the place? And your contacts on the tap? And the cupboard doors open?”

“Okay okay, maybe I am the slob,” Phil admitted, not trying to have the roommate shaming conversation again. “I promise, I’ll help you clear them out.”

Shortly after that, they broke apart and headed to bed in order to get rest for the next morning. They had a couple gaming videos to make and edit and they couldn’t slack off if they wanted their weekend free for guests.

When Dan Howell got stressed out, he was notorious for getting snappy and sort of short with the people around him. This was a well known fact. Not just by Phil, but by most of his subscribers. In times of stress, Dan was the one to lash out and overreact to things with loud noises and dramatic exits. Phil got to experience these reactions first hand and it was one of the many reasons Phil was always cautious with his friend after a particularly bad day. Once Dan was set off, there wasn’t much hope and it was easy for him to snap at Phil for something that wasn’t even close to his fault. A flaw that Phil had become used to over the years.

When Phil Lester got stressed out, he got sick. He either lost his voice or he got something minor that caused his nose to run and his lungs to hack up various fluids. Sadly, usually it was Dan’s stress that caused Phil’s and on a very very bad day, it was an almost inevitable chain reaction. Once Dan shut down, it was up to Phil to clean up after Dan’s tornado of a tantrum.

Wednesday was rough. They spent the morning editing a video for their gaming channel and once they were nearly completed, their computer froze and the entire file was lost. This didn’t happen very often, but working with digital media was somewhat of a risk when it came to reliability. So they had to re-film the entire episode and re-edit it.

This would piss anyone off and Phil was admittedly kind of peeved, but he wasn’t stressed until Dan started yelling about it. There were several problems with their camera while they were filming the second time and by the end of their re-shoot, they couldn’t even use the footage anyway because Dan was super irritable and the banter was largely one sided. Of course, Dan blamed Phil and his editing skills and he stood abruptly after hours of re-watching it to go take a shower in an attempt to calm him down.

During Dan’s shower was when Phil felt the shift in his stomach. The one that was usually associated with a glass of milk. But Phil had drank no such milk and he rubbed it a little, ignoring it and promising himself to take an anti-acid later.

Dan was no less salty when he came from the shower an hour later. His hair wet and his face frowny. Phil still thought he looked cute, but of course he wouldn’t dare say something like that right now – or in general.

But that hour had been enough time for Phil’s stomach to invite a wave of uneasiness that was making it difficult to focus on anything at all. He knew that Dan and Phil were supposed to spend the night cleaning up the living room, but at the current moment that seemed nearly impossible.

But of course, with the stress that Dan was under, it was his first priority. He would stop at nothing to make sure their bottom level was clean for his guests.

“So are we going to clean now, or what?” Dan asked, his tone was harsh and his eyes dark. Phil knew that even a mild stomach ache wasn’t going to get him out of this task. He hoped to God it didn’t get worse and that this would be a painless process.

“Yeah, sure. It shouldn’t take long.”

“I mean, with as many boxes you have, it’s going to take all night,” Dan snarked. “It’s a wonder I’m even offering to help.”

Alright. So it was going to be that kind of night. The kind where the two were forced to be together for some sort of important task, yet one just wanted to be alone. Being work partners with your best friend had some ups and downs. The worst part, by far, was working together when one wasn’t in the mood. It made for difficult conversation and it isn’t as fun when your working partner is throwing shade at you at each opportunity. Especially if that partner is Dan Howell.

“Don’t worry, it’ll get done,” Phil’s words of encouragement were an attempt to ease Dan’s stress, but it didn’t seem that Dan was feeling very susceptible to Phil’s calming techniques tonight.

“It better,” he mumbled, heading downstairs for Phil to follow. Phil rolled his eyes once he knew Dan couldn’t see him and then he got up from the place on the couch he was laying. Much to his stomach’s protest, he quickly made his way downstairs.

Phil was doing his best to avoid the painful boxes. The ones that had memories stuffed to the brim. Instead, he tackled the box of Halloween decorations and Christmas lights. He fished through and got up multiple times to put something in it’s rightful place. Whether that was in a storage closet or another box in Phil’s room, it was getting done slowly. Dan was almost finished with a box of Guild War stuff, fishing through and trying to find an arm that had fallen from one of his figurines.

“God Damnit.”

Phil looked up.

“This fucking arm.” This was the first time Dan had spoken in about an hour and Phil was hesitant to respond. He decided against it because how does one even respond to the mumbles of the distressed? “Why haven’t we put these boxes away sooner?”

Now that was something Phil could respond to.

“Because we’re lazy,” he answered, not even pretending to lie about the real reason. Dan didn’t even look up, but his smirk said that Phil should tread carefully.

“Well we should have taken care of this earlier. It’s late and I’m going to be tired tomorrow. We have company,” Dan argued, his arms crossing over his chest. Phil was just about finished with the box he was unpacking, so he dumped the little pine needles from the wreath he just removed and flattened the box.

“You have company,” Phil said, his tone revealing his bitterness about the situation. He didn’t want Dan to sense that he was getting annoyed, but it wasn’t his fault that it was slipping out. However, Phil didn’t even want to think about what would happen if Dan had a meltdown right now so he kept it subtle. “It’ll get done.”

Dan said nothing and Phil figured it was a good enough time to go put the remaining Christmas stuff in the closet, so he stood and wobbled to his feet. His stomach growled loudly but not because Phil was hungry. It was churning the contents inside – the last being a sandwich he had made himself before the re-shoot – and growling angrily at Phil’s choice of activity. Phil had no choice but to ignore it, yet he knew he was making it worse by not going to bed at such a late hour. He knew in times like these, sleep could usually heal his problems.

When he came back though, he kind of wished he hadn’t. He re-entered the room and found Dan sifting though a box that definitely belonged to Phil. A box that Dan wasn’t even supposed to know existed. A box that held pretty much every romantic proof that existed between the two of them. And now, Dan’s uncaring fingers were digging through their past while Dan’s furrowed eyebrows showed his distaste.

He sensed Phil’s appearance in the doorway behind him because Phil made a little squeak of surprise when he saw which box Dan had decided to tackle.

“What the hell is this?” Dan said, his tone far more serious and angry than before.

Phil knew he should have taken that box to his room a long time ago. How stupid was he? Leaving something like this for Dan to find at will? Especially when Dan was in a mood like he was tonight.

“Phil!” Dan’s tone became sharper when he pulled out the drawing he had crumbled a few months back and thrown away. “Why do we still have this?”

Phil couldn’t describe the tone Dan was using because he honestly never used it. It was as if Dan was masking some sort of pain with this anger. As if he were not just angry with Phil, but angry at the object he was holding.

Suddenly Phil’s stomach wasn’t feeling even slightly okay. He swallowed and his blood ran cold.

“I-I…” Phil stumbled, wishing Dan would just stop pulling things from the box. But he was unstoppable and he kept lifting item after item. Things he had thrown out and things that he probably didn’t even know Phil had kept all these years. “…I don’t know. It’s just old stuff.”

“Old stuff,” Dan huffed sarcastically, his eyes rolling.

Phil stilled where he stood. He could see what Dan’s fingers were about to grab next and he held his breath as Dan’s eyes widened.

“Phil…” His teeth were clenched and his thumb nearly crushed the photograph he held in his hand. “You should not still have this…”

Phil’s stomach flipped over and he covered his mouth in case something came up his throat. He just stared at Dan with tears brimming his lids when Dan’s fist crumpled the beautiful photograph of the two of them in bed, right after one of the best nights of their lives. Dan’s head turned to Phil and his face was red and his eyebrows had never formed such a sharp angle in Phil’s direction.

“I cannot believe you, Phil.” His anger seeped through his teeth as it spit from his tongue. He shoved everything in the box and lidded it. “This is garbage.” He lifted the box and walked over to Phil who probably looked green. “It belongs in the trash.”

Phil knew that by trash he meant past. He could see it in Dan’s eyes. Then Dan stormed up the stairs with the box and Phil assumed that he probably went to throw it out for good. Well there went all the memories Phil had tried so hard to save…

Before long, Dan came barreling down the stairs and Phil had never seen him more angry than he was right now. His face was red and his teeth were showing. Dan’s anger came in waves usually and he beat it by yelling at the top of his lungs or crushing things in his hands, but what Dan did next was literally the last thing Phil ever thought he would do. No matter how angry he got.

He stomped up to Phil and grabbed the older boy’s shirt, Phil’s yelp echoed through the room as Dan shoved him against a wall.

“How dare you, Phil? I thought we were past this…” He muttered, staring Phil straight in the eyes. “After all these years. I thought you could get over that stupid phase.” He actually laughed, but his eyes never changed. Phil could smell his breath through his grimace. It wasn’t helping his stomach at all. “It is so dangerous to have these things around! Do you know what people would think if they found these? Do you know how much shit we’d have to explain?” He narrowed his dark eyes again. “I can’t believe you still have this box of lies…”

Now Phil was getting offended. Okay, so Dan was ashamed of his past with Phil. That’s fine. But denying it altogether? That was borderline lunacy. Phil was there too. He remembered what they used to be. He remembered how they used to act. Just because they never brought it up, didn’t mean it never happened.

“Do you want the internet to find out?” Dan spat. Obviously not. But he highly doubted someone from the internet would come across this box in their house. “Do you want us to have another incident? Like in 2012?”

Ah. 2012. The video they never once talked about. Phil was shunned for a month for absolutely no reason and there was no conversation about the living, breathing proof that was leaked accidentally on the internet. It probably only fueled Dan’s paranoia and pushed Phil further from his close circle of trust. So Phil just cleaned up the mess, hiring someone to go on and remove it from the internet the best they could. He still signed paper checks to their copyright agent twice a year so it got removed.

“N-no. I just thought-”

“Well stop thinking! Let it go! Can’t you just be happy with the present?” Dan sneered, letting go of Phil’s shirt and stepping back.

Phil’s stomach churned but he stood still and said nothing. He watched Dan as he spun around and pushed his hands through his tangled hair. It was best to say nothing in a time like this. Dan sighed loudly.

“Sometimes it’s really hard to be your best friend, Phil.”

Now that stung.

Phil didn’t usually like to overanalyze, but in this case, he deemed himself allowed. Dan just phrased it “your best friend.” As if Dan was only Phil’s best friend. As if Dan had another friend he deemed more important in status.

His stomach growled angrily and his eyes started to water. He couldn’t tell if it was the ill feeling in his stomach or the emotional blow he just took, but he let his chin quiver as he stared at Dan.

The silence that followed could have made a library feel like a basketball court. The two stood in the same spot – Phil against a wall, his breathing ragged, and Dan standing with his hands on his hips in the middle of the room. But this silence only gave Phil another chance to feel his stomach turn and he knew that he had to go be horizontal. Suddenly not even the rift in their friendship could keep him standing in this room. He was either going to puke right now or go lie down. This physical stress would not do.

“My stomach really hurts…um…” Phil gulped, his voice breaking lightly. “I’m gonna go lie down.”

Dan turned around with fire in his eyes.

“Really? You’re just going to leave these boxes?”

“Dan…seriously. My stomach-”

“Fine, whatever. I don’t even care.”

“Sorry Dan, I just-”

“Save it. I can’t do this right now. I’m going to bed,” he scowled. “I’ll just tell my guests that you felt like being a shitty friend.”

Phil knew Dan was in a bad mood before he started, but he still couldn’t believe how hurtful his words were. For some reason, this seemed more personal than usual. Like Dan was lashing out at him for more than just the boxes.

Before he knew it, Dan had stomped up the stairs and he actually heard Dan’s bedroom door shut all the way from where he stood.

He felt faint.

Dan and he hadn’t had a fight like that in a while. Their communication was good enough that when they had an issue, a screaming match wasn’t necessary. This mess seemed like it was going to be harder to pick up than usual.

Which is why Phil took a moment to sit on the couch and catch his breath, making a short trip to find a few antacids and then he decided (against his stomach’s will) to stay up and clean the rest of the boxes. If only to ease the guilt and not be the shitty friend Dan thought he was being. He didn’t know why he felt like he needed to prove that he wasn’t, and perhaps it was the pressure of Jonah that made him do it, but the downstairs level was spotless by the time he was done. He even laid out blankets for Dan’s friends to use while they crashed on the couch.

Phil was a good person and a good friend. No matter how complicated their past was.

He put himself to bed with a pain in his stomach and the guilt weighing his heart.

He awoke to a tiny knock on his door and he startled awake.

The first thing he noticed was that his stomach was in more pain than it had been the night before. He felt like he had ingested something rancid and he was sure his skin matched the green of his sheets. He sat up in a cold sweat and fell down again with a dizzy haze. But the only person that could be on the other side of the door was Dan so he sat up and wiped his face with his duvet, trying to look normal. He didn’t want to make Dan more angry.

“Come in!” Phil yelled, his voice hoarse – which was a tell tale sign that he was ill. His voice was always the first to go.

Dan entered. He was dressed and ready for the day. But instead of his usual embraced curly hair, he had spent time straightening it. Phil didn’t want to ask why but it was unusual to see the throwback hairstyle.

“Hey,” Dan started, his eyes not even bothering to meet Phil’s.

“Morning.”

There was a silence, but it wasn’t nearly as brutal as the night before.

“I see you unpacked everything,” Dan gestured out to the lounge. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” Phil said, his heart begging for an apology that he knew he wouldn’t get. And like the zero-backboned human he was, a “Sorry” slipped out of his own mouth.

“That’s okay.” Dan accepted, looking at the ground. “Just next time, don’t lie about a stomach ache. That was pretty low.”

Phil was in disbelief. It was as if Dan was mentally repressing everything that happened with the items in that box, only mentioning the part where Phil “lied” about his stomach. Dan was completely in the wrong here, but Phil didn’t want to fight him. If he tried to argue now, Dan would only get more angry and it was best they weren’t in the middle of a feud when Dan’s friends arrived.

“Okay.” Phil nodded, trying his hardest to look healthy. He really needed Dan to believe it. Even though he felt like absolute shit.

“The gang is getting here in an hour. I thought I’d let you know,” Dan changed the subject, his eyes still not meeting Phil’s. Perhaps that was good. This way, Phil wouldn’t give away his illness by the glassy eyes he couldn’t shake. “You’re coming out to lunch with us, right?”

Phil recalled agreeing to this a week ago but he wasn’t so sure how well he would hold up while out of the house. But his head nodded without consent and then Dan was nodding back and shutting Phil’s door, leaving him to get ready by himself.

As if the Universe was getting a kick out of Phil’s misery, the gang got to their flat almost twenty minutes early and Jonah led the pack with the same flirty grace that he had showcased all those years before. He waltzed in and joked with Phil about his age and how it wasn’t treating him well – not passing up the opportunity to make a remark about his ill-looking features. Next thing Phil knew, Jonah was hanging on Dan’s arm, just like old times, and when the checks at lunch were distributed, it was no surprise that Dan’s was taken care of. Phil muttered to himself when Jonah glanced at him, as if he were claiming something with his stupid money from his stupid office job.

Movie night didn’t ease the pain, as Jonah stole the spot beside Dan and his head landed innocently on Phil’s best friend’s shoulder. Dan didn’t even seem to notice that Jonah was hanging on his every word. Jonah would laugh as if he were a trained dog on command. Not even Phil found the comments Jonah seemed to laugh the hardest at funny. He just looked away and forced a smile.

The whole afternoon was hard to stomach, but Phil’s actual organ was giving him a hard time on top of it all. It was clear that something was wrong and he had been so distracted by the obvious flirtation that he had completely forgotten about how terrible he felt. After the movie was over and Dan suggested that they all move to the kitchen and open a bottle of wine, Phil finally paid the slightest attention to the angry sounding growls that were now making him clutch his lower left side.

Well fuck.

He glanced over at Jonah who was eying his strange behavior, as if he were waiting for Phil to call it a night before pouncing on Dan like some sort of prey, and then he looked to his feet. He might as well admit defeat. It’s not like Dan and he were in a good place anyway. Their chemistry had been a little off all day and if Phil was being honest, he was kind of salty about it. Sure, Phil wasn’t being 100% because he was actually ill, but he was doing his best. Apparently, even his best wasn’t enough for Dan today.

Usually, when one of them was feeling off, the other overcompensated and was able to pick up the slack. Just so that their friendship didn’t falter and thank God they could read each other so well. It made their group hang outs much easier. When one of the two seemed a little low energy, yet they still wanted to be a part of the plan, the second would just bump it up a little and pretend that everything was fine. Tonight, it seemed that at every attempt he made to start a conversation, Dan would shut it down. He wasn’t letting their usual banter slip from their mouths and he held in comments that he might usually make to cover up Phil’s lower-energy behavior. In fact, even when Phil tried to say something about how he was just “slightly tired” from overworking himself the night before, Dan just laughed and said “But didn’t you get lots of sleep?” Completely disregarding how he must have been up half the night unpacking the boxes that Dan left him. Throwing his own sleep out the window for their friendship.

But that was exactly why Phil couldn’t admit defeat. If Dan so much as thought Phil was faking a stomach issue again, he would be toast. He would leave the room and Dan would roll his eyes before saying something incredibly hurtful behind his back. Phil knew. He’d seen it before. Dan Howell was not the guy you wanted to piss off. He was the guy you wanted on your side. With how fragile everything was at that moment, it seemed like a terrible idea to leave him with his friends. So for now, he would stand in the corner of the kitchen and watch Dan get eaten alive by the eyes of his old friend - until he couldn’t stand it anymore.

He took the glass of wine from whomever was handing it him and he sipped it, ignoring the protest from his stomach that he most certainly should have listened to.

Only an hour later and a couple glasses down, his limit was hit. In an effort to blend in, he filled his glass with water when nobody was looking and then chugged it, pretending it was another glass of wine. Three was enough to get him a little tipsy. At least tipsy enough to need a piss.

He slammed his glass on the table – a little too loudly – and then announced his departure. Everyone nodded but continued talking as Phil stalked down the hall and into the room at the end. As soon as the door was shut, he leaned against it and swallowed. He looked across and into the mirror where he got a glimpse of his face, the one that had turned a lovely pale shade of green, his lips chapping and his eyes glazing over even more. He knew that look. He could tell it from all the times he had felt this way before. He was going to puke. He rolled his eyes at himself - and at Dan – letting himself fall to his knees. He bent over the toilet and he waited. It was coming. He was sure of it.

A minute later, he proved himself right. He let the contents of his stupid lunch sandwich fall from his throat as he heaved with distress. The wine burned a little and he winced because he knew he should have held off. He could have just had water and nobody would have cared. If it weren’t for Jonah, he might not have made such a stupid decision.

It’s always easier to blame your problems on someone else, isn’t it?

He finished his business, splashing some water on his face and trying to clear the blotchy look that he was so clearly sporting, then he reached for the door handle and flung it open.

And was greeted with Jonah, tapping his foot against the floor and scrolling through something that looked like Reddit.

“You feeling okay, Mate?” he asked, his smile looking so genuine yet Phil knew it was entirely fake. “That didn’t sound good.”

Phil grumbled, knowing that he had only a couple options here. Lie and tell Jonah that he had drank too much or tell him the truth about his stomach problems. He stuttered and sighed, rolling his eyes slightly.

“Yeah, I drank too much.”

Jonah laughed.

Great. Now Phil looked like he couldn’t hold his liquor. That, or he was an irresponsible adult that couldn’t tell when to stop. To be fair, that was accurate.

“Must be a product of old age. Can’t keep up with us young'ins, huh?” He laughed but his tone was bitter. He had won and Phil was in no mood to fight.

“Yeah. I guess not.”

Jonah gave him a sympathy smile and pat him on the shoulder blade as he passed him, pushing himself into the bathroom. Phil just slumped and wiped his mouth, just in case something was on his face, then proceeded back into the kitchen.

Surprised to be walking into a room with just Dan, he looked around.

“Where did uh…” he cocked his head and Dan nodded.

“They went downstairs to change. We were thinking about playing a board game. You in?”

Phil could barely cut the tension in this room with the sharpest knife in their drawer. Dan hadn’t even looked up from his phone to answer Phil’s question. Phil didn’t like the lack of eye contact and even though he could still taste the bitter from his own bile, he swallowed it and smiled.

“Of course.”

Team games were their shit. Dan and Phil could crush any number of people with their amazing telepathic skills. A game where they could team up was ideal because they would nearly never lose. A game where they were supposed to “prove how close they were” was even better. This simple best-friend question game was almost always their ploy to win game night. Whenever they suggested it, they would prove to everyone that they were the two best-est friends that could ever be. That is, unless one of them isn’t feeling that great. And tonight, they weren’t doing so hot. It was Jonah who suggested it actually and Phil was kind of insulted that Dan tried to change his mind. But the fucker wasn’t having it. He wanted to play and Phil almost cheered aloud when Dan shrugged but picked Phil as his partner. That was the one move tonight where Phil didn’t feel like a loser. Jonah huffed about it, but now they were losing and he looked even happier. Whether that was because Phil was feeling completely incapable of thinking straight or because Dan and Phil had fought the night before, Jonah and his team mate were winning the game by a landslide and Dan was being the opposite of a graceful loser.

Of course, once they were halfway through the game and the chance of the two winning was at best slim, Dan started pouting. He would throw shade in Phil’s direction for nearly no reason at all. Usually it came out at playful jabs but today the knives were sharper. They felt more personal. Like they were meant as a sign of dominance. Or a threat. As though Dan were trying to prove himself.

The combination of Phil’s already upset stomach, his lack of sleep and his so-called best friend jabbing him at every chance, caused Phil’s fuse to get shorter. He was just about done. And when Dan rolled the dice and picked up a card that read “What is your partner’s biggest flaw?”, Phil knew he was in for a killing. Dan didn’t so much as smile as he threw the card down on the table and nodded. He looked Phil directly in the eyes and said “you’re incapable of letting things go.”

Phil’s eye twitched.

His stomach growled and his lip quivered.

That was it.

He gave Dan a pity smile, nodding and balling his fists at his sides. He looked at the people in the room with that same smile and then he looked to his lap. He felt the anger from the night before as it hit him in the face. Clearly Dan wasn’t actually over it. How could he be? The last time they had a fight like this, Dan didn’t come around for a long while. He might as well gear up for another one of those.

He let out a huff of defeat and he looked up at Dan again, already picturing how Dan was going to react to what he was about to say.

“Sorry guys, my stomach really hurts. I think I’m coming down with something.” Dan’s smile fell, as expected. “I’m gonna turn in early.”

There was a silence, as if the others couldn’t tell whether that was in reaction to the jab or if he was being serious. It didn’t matter though because Dan’s face said it all. He was looking at Phil as if he were making the biggest mistake of his life. And maybe he was. But he wasn’t going to sit there and take this abuse for any longer. His stomach hurt, his head was spinning and Jonah was grinning at him like he had just won the lottery. Phil slowly stood and he nodded, mumbling a little sorry and clutching his stomach as he exited the living room.

Before he could register the “be right back” that came from the other room, he was being grabbed in the arm by Dan himself. The boy had followed him into the hallway and was now not letting him move. Phil tried to wriggle away but his younger friend wasn’t having it.

“What do you want from me?” Phil asked, his voice sounding just as broken as he felt.

“What the hell, Phil?” Dan ignored his question. “We need to win! You can’t just quit!”

“I can and I really don’t feel well. Can I just-”

“No! You can’t just leave! That was really rude,” Dan’s eyebrows furrowed. “What am I supposed to tell them?”

Phil closed his eyes and leaned against the wall.

“That I’m sick and need to rest.”

“We both know that’s bullshit.”

Who the hell was Dan Howell to tell him that his feelings were bullshit?

“You’re just upset because I called you out,” Dan claimed, shaking his head. “You should have thought of that before you kept that stupid box of things.”

Phil opened his eyes and blinked back at Dan in disbelief.

“Lighten up, Phil. You know I was joking.” He claimed, in reference to his quote from earlier. “I’m sorry if it seemed too real.”

Oh so now he was sorry. Now that his honor was in jeopardy.

“I need you. C'mon Phil. We can win this.”

Phil was angry, his stomach hurt and all he wanted to do was knock himself out and sleep the pain away. But now Dan was standing there with his chocolate brown eyes, asking him to stay. Phil was tired of fighting and if Dan was going to calm down, perhaps he could stick out the rest of the night. If at least the rest of the game. He slumped and gave Dan a look of defeat, fueling the smirk on the other boy’s face, only to receive a slap on the back.

“Great! Now let’s go win that game!”

Phil followed Dan into the lounge and tried to listen as Dan gave some excuse about how Phil had been joking and that this was a game they liked to play when it was just the two of them.

Two more question cards passed and Phil was beginning to slump. He felt his face turn the color of a faded green chalkboard, only to look up and lock eyes with Jonah. His dark brown eyes threw Phil back to the days where Dan was his. He could feel Dan’s presence beside him now and couldn’t help but notice how much further he was than he used to be. Jonah’s eyes reminded him of how platonic they had become and how he still held onto the letters and the evidence because he was afraid of letting go. Ultimately, Dan was right. Phil didn’t want to let go. But it wasn’t his fault that he still saw a glimpse of the old Dan beneath the skin of the new. It wasn’t his fault that he might still be in love with the younger boy that didn’t love him back. And it certainly wasn’t his fault that Jonah’s eyes made him sick to his stomach.

And before Jonah’s partner could even complete his question, Phil’s stomach angrily twisted and decided to reveal its contents to everyone in the room. Phil wished he could stop it from happening – mostly because he really liked that game and now it was totally ruined – but also because he wasn’t a graceful upchuck-er. He tried to turn his head but his throat opened and the last thing he remembered before passing out, was Dan’s face full of regret.

Phil was awoken from an unusually disorienting set of nightmares, only to be greeted by the man of his worries. Dan was gently shaking him and if he weren’t so sick, he might of slept through it. However, with his luck lately, Dan probably needed him for something.

Couldn’t he just leave Phil be? He could deal with this whole friendship mess later. For now, he just wanted to rest.

Yet when his slitted eyes finally found the courage to land upon the other boy’s face, there was a different light behind his eyes. This one more wary than usual. Phil immediately closed his eyes again because he couldn’t let Dan do what he so often was able, which was distracting Phil with his charm. Phil would fall for anything Dan pulled and that’s what got him into this mess in the first place. He groaned a little and tossed his head to the side and told Dan to fuck off – wordlessly of course.

“Hey. Phil. Wake up.” Dan was chanting quietly and Phil then realized that maybe he had just fallen asleep again. He didn’t know. He was too busy nursing his own throbbing head. “Phil please. I brought you some tea.”

Dan brought him some tea? Well that was awfully nice of him.

Phil allowed his eyes to open, directing his gaze onto the side table where indeed a mug of tea steamed beside him. There was even a little saucer with cookies sitting next to it. His stomach didn’t lurch uncomfortably at the thought of eating them and Phil figured that was a good sign. He let his head face Dan’s again and he opened his eyes to see a very nervous Dan Howell sitting on the side of his bed.

“Thanks.” Phil smiled with as little effort as possible, his eyes shutting again.

There was an agonizing moment of silence that Phil could have used to fall back asleep again, but he chose to stay awake because Dan wasn’t leaving.

Why wasn’t he leaving?

“There are also some cookies…you know…for your stomach,” Dan added nervously.

“Yeah.” Phil could see that. “Thanks.”

Another long silence.

“Why didn’t you tell me that you were sick?”

…

Phil was gonna kill this man.

His eyes shot open and he looked Dan in the eye, about ready to throw up again. This time on Dan’s pretty fucking face.

“Are you kidding me?” Phil accused, his mouth forming a straight line and his brows furrowing. He was in danger of biting a hole into his cheek with how hard he was grimacing.

Dan seemed startled by the response, then his face kind of went red and his body crumbled into himself. Phil wasn’t expecting that. Dan put his face in his hands and shook his head.

“Sorry…sorry, I know. I guess I mean…” Dan’s voice turned into a quiet mumble. “Why didn’t I listen…?”

Well that, Phil couldn’t answer.

Dan’s face didn’t leave his palms for a moment. His body was slumped over and Phil couldn’t help but notice that Dan hadn’t looked this vulnerable in years. Not since he was still a teenager. Not since before he changed everything about their relationship.

Phil never liked awkward silences and it was his nature to fill them. Even when the words that came out of his mouth weren’t true. “I understand. You were mad…”

“No, Phil. That’s not an excuse.” His tone was defeated and Phil honestly didn’t know how to interpret it. This was a first. Dan’s entire being was surrounded by a nervous air and he wasn’t so sure how to react. The only thing he could relate this to was one of Dan’s existential crises. Usually those happened while lying vertical on the hallway carpet. Last time Phil checked, they were alone in his room and Phil was the one in the compromising position.

That’s when Phil realized that they were actually completely alone.

“W-wait. Where’s Jonah and-”

“I sent them home.”

“What?” Phil closed his eyes. His head hurt way too much for this. “Why?”

Now it was Dan’s turn to stare at Phil like he had three heads.

“Because you aren’t feeling well…” He spoke as if that were obvious.

I guess it made sense. Phil didn’t want to get anyone else sick.

“…and I wouldn’t want you to miss out on the weekend.” Dan finished. “We can reschedule.”

“Oh joy.” Phil rolled his eyes and slumped. So Dan didn’t want him to miss out of an entire weekend where Jonah hung from his arm and killed Phil over and over with his stare?

Dan said nothing, which was uncharacteristic of him, especially since Phil just insulted his friends. Phil took the moment of silence to shift himself to his side where he could curl up a little bit more. Even when he accidentally hit Dan in the back with his knee, the younger boy still didn’t move. Most of the time, Phil made it a point to solve problems right away instead of letting them fester over a night’s rest, but right now he just wanted to sleep. The rift in their relationship could wait.

“I’m so sorry, Phil.”

The words seemed to come from nowhere. They were muffled because Dan’s face was in his hands once again. There were a million reasons why Dan could be sorry. Was he sorry for snapping? Was he sorry for leaving Phil to clean their lower level? Was he sorry for being cold the past 24 hours? Was he sorry for sticking around when Phil clearly just wanted to be alone? Phil hated himself for even asking, but he honestly wasn’t sure, “What for?”

Dan sighed and when he looked up from his hands, turning his gaze to Phil’s eyes for the first time in minutes, he looked a wreck. Phil noticed the tears brimming his lids and if he wasn’t such a petty bastard, he might have felt sorry. But Phil has stood before Dan with the same kind of look and received nothing but a glare before. What made Dan think he got special treatment?

“I’m so stupid, Phil. I’m incredibly stupid.” Dan blubbered, his voice cracking. With each statement Phil was getting more and more confused. It wasn’t like Dan to cry like this. It wasn’t like Dan to even say he’s sorry. Phil wasn’t complaining, but he was slightly concerned. What did Dan think he did?

“It’s so fucked up.” Dan explained. “What I’ve done to you.”

Well shit.

“I have been a really terrible friend and…and I have no idea how to fix this.”

Phil decided that if he didn’t say something now, Dan might break into a panic attack, which was the opposite of what Phil wanted to deal with right now.

“No…it’s okay. You’re fi-”

“No! Stop saying that! It’s not okay. We both know it’s not okay.” Dan was sitting up now. His body took on a defensive stance as if he were ready for battle. But this time, he didn’t look ready to fight Phil; he looked ready to fight himself. “I was so mad at you yesterday and I owe you an explanation.”

“Dan-”

“Please Phil. Just listen to me for a second…” Dan begged, his voice low, yet still impossible to talk over. Phil shut his mouth and let him go on, his eyes fixed on Dan’s reddened cheeks. “I need to tell you this now or I might never get the courage to say it again.” He wiped the tears from his eyes and looked at the ceiling. “I know I was a dick to you all those years ago. And I never properly apologized. So…I’m really sorry about what I did to you. I was so…” He swallowed. “I was so scared back then. I was scared of losing you. But I knew if we never dated, than we couldn’t break up…and so once things started getting serious and you started talking about-”

Phil watched Dan hesitate, his brown eyes shutting as his memory most likely reminded him of words Phil had used all those years ago. “Future” “Love” “Boyfriend”. That must have been pretty scary as a 19 year old kid.

“…what we were…” Dan chose his words carefully. “I told myself I couldn’t let it happen. So for an entire two years I only let us be friends. I made sure of it. No matter how much my gut told me not to.” Dan’s eyes returned to Phil and he almost looked like he didn’t want to make contact, but it was necessary for what he was about to say. “I did love you, Phil. I loved you so much. Hell…I still love you….”

Phil blushed crimson.

“But I was so terrified that I was going to lose you that…” He looked down. “…that I didn’t even notice that I already had.”

He stood from the bed and Phil could feel the warmth that was leftover in the spot he was sitting. Phil watched as he started pacing.

“I threw away all that stuff when we moved because I was hoping the feelings would go with it…that I could just, remove those objects and everything would fade from my memory. And for a while, it worked. The whole, out of sight out of mind thing…but it turns out that doesn’t work long term. It turns out, it only makes you remember more.”

He said all this with a tone of sadness that Phil had never heard come from Dan. It was like a rich chocolate that you could only get on the rarest of occasions.

“But then you told me that we needed to talk and I was so angry with myself that I panicked and told you the opposite of what I wanted you to hear. You basically told me that I broke your heart and all I could do was call you delusional…” Dan sounded so disappointed in himself. “And I knew I just hurt you more. But to make me feel less guilty…I went with it. I pretended that I didn’t have any idea what we used to be, even though every night I would lie on the other side of the wall and think about how much I wanted to be lying with you.”

At this point, Phil was shocked. He hadn’t known any of this. But it made sense.

“I missed all those nights we spent together and the three hour breakfasts…” Dan admitted, his voice soft. “And then I found that box…”

Now it was Phil’s turn to feel bad. He had deliberately taken all of those things from the trash and kept them, only for Dan to find the box and shove the memories back into his face. Phil never knew that Dan found them so painful.

Before Phil could manage an apology of his own, Dan stopped pacing, bit his lip and dug into his jean pocket, pulling out a very crumpled up photo. The exact photo that seemed to have set him off the night before. He un-crumbled it and looked down, as if he were re-living the memory.

“This was one of the happiest moments of my life, Phil…” Dan admitted, as if he knew that Phil felt the exact same way. “I took one look at this the other night and everything came back. Like we took it just yesterday…”

Phil swallowed the lump in his throat.

“And I didn’t know how to tell you that I fucked it all up. I’m the entire reason that we couldn’t stay together. I was just too scared to have a real relationship with real feelings and real stakes. I can’t believe you stuck around me for so long…and for the longest time I thought it was because you were still in love with me too and you couldn’t see how horrible I had been. But then we started getting closer and suddenly I blinked again and we were closer than we were before…” Dan cleared his throat. “Maybe not physically…” He started pacing again. “…but I was so comfortable around you and I started thinking about how stupid I was. How incredibly ungrateful I must have been…to give up someone like you for my own lonesome sorrows. God I’m such a dick…”

Phil couldn’t believe what he was hearing, yet at the same time, it was all so believable. He saw it in Dan’s eyes. The way he looked at Phil. Like he was constantly trying to hide something. Even the other night, he looked so hurt behind all that anger. Phil could tell that he wasn’t lying about this. Something about it seemed so real. So completely honest.

“I’m so so sorry, Phil. I am so ashamed…” Dan’s voice cracked again and he stopped his pacing once more. This time, he was facing away from Phil and the older boy could sense that he must have been crying. Phil would be too if he weren’t so shocked. “I was a different person all those years ago and I just…I don’t know what to do to fix this. How do I show you that I’m sorry?”

Another silence filled the room, but this time Phil didn’t read it as awkward or tense. He could feel how much the other boy felt for him. He could see the pain he must be exuding.

“I mean, hell, I don’t even know if you feel the same way…” Dan mumbled. “For all I know, you don’t even like me as a friend. I’ve been so terrible to you that I wouldn’t be surprised if-”

“Dan.”

Phil’s voice sounded so foreign to his own ears. He was getting so used to Dan’s; letting it melt into his ears as it usually did.

Dan quieted himself, yet he didn’t turn around.

“Dan I could never not like you.” Phil reassured, knowing the younger boy needed to hear something of the sort. Otherwise he might slink away into a hole of self doubt and worry. “Come here.”

Dan stiffened, but after a few seconds he complied and he walked over to the bed, sitting where he sat before. This time, more delicately. Phil reached out and took the photograph from Dan’s nervous hands, pulling it close to his face. He didn’t have his glasses on and he wasn’t about to ruin the moment to ask where they were.

“This was such a great night,” Phil laughed. “I remember that you got some sort of sticky stuff in your hair and we couldn’t figure out if it was leftover icing or-”

Phil stopped himself with a cough, glad that he didn’t finish the sentence. He saw Dan smile in the corner of his eye. Even if it was a blurry mess.

Phil put the photo on the side table and returned his gaze to his best friend.

“Dan…I could never not love you,” Phil admitted, not trying to draw out the confession. He knew how much those words meant to Dan right now. “I love you so much. Why the hell do you think I kept that box?”

Dan shrugged.

“Because I wanted to save every last memory. I never wanted to let go. I was so worried you had just thrown away that chapter of your life. Left it behind to be lost forever,” Phil smiled. “I’m incapable of letting things go…remember?”

Dan kind of chuckled but he shook his head.

Phil reached out and grabbed Dan’s hand, which startled him.

“Can you…just…clarify one thing for me?” Phil asked, his voice suggesting that he was about to be treading in dangerous waters. He just needed to hear it from Dan one more time. Just so he knew for sure. Dan nodded and Phil paused. “Are you saying that you still want to be with me, Dan Howell?”

Dan didn’t say anything for a long time. His face was as still as stone and his features were impossible to read. But Dan had given him everything tonight. The least Phil could do was lend him some patience.

“…yes.” Dan said slowly. His hands started wringing and he picked up the photograph to keep his wanting hands busy. “But I’m so scared.”

The second part of his sentence was so quiet that Phil wasn’t even sure he heard correctly. But his heart heard it. Dan was terrified. He didn’t want to lose Phil.

But that was good news. Because Phil was incapable of letting Dan go.

Phil gave Dan a comforting smile and with that he noticed that his headache wasn’t too bad anymore. He still felt like if he got up he would throw up everything, but his relief was making it a lot easier to cope.

“Don’t be scared…” Phil spoke softly, his eyes closing. “You’re so brave.”

Phil could see it now. How much Dan had grown. How much he had changed all these years. He had been so young and naive. Their time together as friends had helped Dan become the man who sat before him today. The one that was telling him that he was honestly sorry. Phil could not have been more proud.

“Really?” Dan asked, his old timid nature showing through his newfound confidence.

“Yes.” Phil confirmed with a grin. “I love you so much.”

Dan’s face broke into a grin and his cheeks flushed. There was a moment where neither knew what to do and Phil so desperately wished that he could sit up and kiss the smile off Dan’s face. For the first time in nearly 7 years.

But he was sick and he wasn’t about to give Dan the plague, so he laughed to himself and nodded.

“I guess we can save the kiss for when I feel better…” Phil joked, knowing that Dan was probably thinking the same thing. Their awkward chuckles blended and Phil didn’t know he missed it so much until now. “And uh…I hate to say I told you so…but next time, if I say my stomach hurts, please don’t make me play any games…”

Dan laughed but his eyes glistened with an apology. He was sorry. Phil knew it. Plus, he had admitted far more than Phil expected today. He was off the hook.

“Okay…but hear me out…” Dan argued playfully. “I didn’t want that asshole winning.”

Phil blinked.

“What asshole?”

“Jonah!”

Phil cocked an eyebrow.

“Wait…”

“Phil, you don’t actually think I like that guy, do you?” Dan looked at Phil like he was crazy. As if it had been obvious. Dan waited for a moment and then threw his head back in laughter. “God, Jonah is a bloody asshat! I only told him he could come over because I wanted to shove it into his face how much happier I ended up.”

“Oh…” Phil chuckled nervously. “Really?”

“Yeah. That guy is always breathing down my neck because he knows I fancy you,” Dan shrugged. “I told him years ago when he came on to me.”

Phil’s mouth dropped.

“You told Jonah and you couldn’t even tell me?” Phil shoved Dan with his knee while they both laughed. “God he is an asshat.”

“Yeah…I won’t have him round anymore. I promise.” Dan smiled and pat Phil on the leg as he stood. “Now heal up. I want to have that sweet sweet getting back together sex with the man I’ve been lusting after for years.”

Phil sighed and fell back against his pillow as Dan left the room, leaving Phil with half a headache and another problem he’d have to sleep off.

[foursproutwealth-blog]

Why Canada Defends Ukrainian Fascism

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/why-canada-defends-ukrainian-fascism/

Why Canada Defends Ukrainian Fascism

Authored by Michael Jabara Carley via The Strategic Culture Foundation,

Canada has a reputation for being a relatively progressive state with universal, single-payer health care, various other social benefits, and strict gun laws, similar to many European countries but quite unlike the United States. It has managed to stay out of some American wars, for example, Vietnam and Iraq, portrayed itself as a neutral “peace keeper”, pursuing a so-called policy of “multilateralism” and attempting from time to time to keep a little independent distance from the United States.

Behind this veneer of respectability lies a not so attractive reality of elite inattention to the defence of Canadian independence from the United States and intolerance toward the political and syndicalist left. Police repression against communist and left-wing unionists and other dissidents after World War I was widespread. Strong support for appeasement of Nazi Germany, overt or covert sympathy for fascism, especially in Québec, and hatred of the Soviet Union were widespread in Canada during the 1930s. The Liberal prime minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, hobnobbed with Nazi notables including Adolf Hitler, and thought that his British counterpart Neville Chamberlain had not gone far enough in appeasing Hitlerite Germany. Mackenzie King and many others of the Canadian elite saw communism as a greater threat to Canada than fascism. As in Europe, the Canadian elite—Liberal or Conservative did not matter—was worried by the Spanish civil war (1936-1939). In Québec French public opinion under the influence of the Catholic Church hoped for fascist victory and the eradication of communism. In 1937 a Papal encyclical whipped up the Red Scare amongst French Canadian Catholics. Rejection of Soviet offers of collective security against Hitler was the obverse side of appeasement. The fear of victory over Nazi Germany in alliance with the USSR was greater than the fear of defeat against fascism. Such thoughts were either openly expressed over dinner at the local gentleman’s club or kept more discrete by people who did not want to reveal the extent of their sympathy for fascism.

The Liberal prime minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, hobnobbed with Nazi notables including Adolf Hitler, and thought that his British counterpart Neville Chamberlain had not gone far enough in appeasing Hitlerite Germany

Even after the Nazi invasion of the USSR in June 1941, and the formation of the Grand Alliance against the Axis, there was strong reticence amongst the governing elite in Canada toward the Soviet Union. It was a shotgun marriage, a momentary arrangement with an undesirable partner, necessitated by the over-riding threat of the Nazi Wehrmacht.

“If Hitler invaded Hell,” Winston Churchill famously remarked, “I would make at least a favourable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.” Once Hitler was beaten, however, it would be back to business as usual. The Grand Alliance was a “truce”, as some of my students have proposed to me, in a longer cold war between the west and the USSR. This struggle began in November 1917 when the Bolsheviks seized power in Petrograd; it resumed after 1945 when the “truce”, or if you like, the Grand Alliance, came to a sudden end.

This was no more evident than in Canada where elite hatred of communism was a homegrown commodity and not simply an American imitation. So it should hardly be a surprise that after 1945 the Canadian government – Mackenzie King was still prime minister – should open its doors to the immigration of approximately 34,000 “displaced persons”, including thousands of Ukrainian fascists and Nazi collaborators, responsible for heinous war crimes in the Ukraine and Poland. These were veterans of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), the Waffen SS Galicia and the Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), all collaborators of Nazi Germany during World War II.

Chrystia Freeland, the current Canadian minister for external affairs

The most notorious of the Nazi collaborators who immigrated to Canada was Mykhailo Chomiak, a mid-level Nazi operative in Poland, who came under US protection at the end of the war and eventually made his way to Canada where he settled in Alberta. Had he been captured by the Red Army, he would quite likely have been hanged for collaboration with the enemy. In Canada however he prospered as a farmer. His grand-daughter is the “Ukrainian-Canadian” Chrystia Freeland, the present minister for external affairs. She is a well-known Russophobe, persona non grata in the Russian Federation, who long claimed her grandfather was a “victim” of World War II. Her claims to this effect have been demonstrated to be untrue by the Australian born journalist John Helmer, amongst many others.

In 1940 the Liberal government facilitated the creation of the Canadian Ukrainian Congress (UCC), one of many organisations used to fight or marginalise the left in Canada, in this case amongst Canadian Ukrainians. The UCC is still around and appears to dominate the Ukrainian-Canadian community. Approximately 1.4 million people living in Canada claim full or partial Ukrainian descent though generally the latter. Most “Ukrainian-Canadians” were born in Canada; well more than half live in the western provinces. The vast majority has certainly never set foot in the Ukraine. It is this constituency on which the UCC depends to pursue its political agenda in Ottawa.

The Canadian Ukrainian Congress (UCC) president Paul Grod

After the coup d’état in Kiev in February 2014 the UCC lobbied the then Conservative government under Stephen Harper to support the Ukrainian “regime change” operation which had been conducted by the United States and European Union. The UCC president, Paul Grod, took the lead in obtaining various advantages from the Harper government, including arms for the putschist regime in Kiev. It survives only through massive EU and US direct or indirect financial/political support and through armed backing from fascist militias who repress dissent by force and intimidation. Mr. Grod claims that Russia is pursuing a policy of “aggression” against the Ukraine. If that were true, the putschists in Kiev would have long ago disappeared. The Harper government allowed fund raising for Pravyi Sektor, a Ukrainian fascist paramilitary group, through two organisations in Canada including the UCC, and even accorded “charitable status” to one of them to facilitate their fund raising and arms buying. Harper also sent military “advisors” to train Ukrainian forces, the backbone of which are fascist militias. The Trudeau government has continued that policy. “Canada should prepare for Russian attempts to destabilize its democracy,” according to Minister Freeland: “Ukraine is a very important partner to Canada and we will continue to support its efforts for democracy and economic growth.” For a regime that celebrates violence and anti-Russian racism, represses political opposition, burns books, and outlaws the Russian language, “democracy” is an Orwellian portrayal of actual realities in the Ukraine. Nevertheless, late last year the Canadian government approved the sale of arms to Kiev and a so-called Magnitsky law imposing sanctions on Russian nationals.

The Harper government allowed fund raising for Pravyi Sektor, a Ukrainian fascist paramilitary group

There is no political opposition in the House of Commons to these policies. Even the New Democratic Party (NDP), that burnt out shell of Canadian social democracy, supported the Harper government, at the behest of Mr. Grod, a Ukrainian lobbyist who knows his way around Ottawa. In 2015 the UCC put a list of questions to party leaders, one of which was the following: “Does your party support listing the Luhansk People’s Republic and the Donetsk People’s Republic as terrorist organizations?” The Lugansk and Donetsk republics are of course anti-fascist resistance movements that emerged in reaction to the violent coup d’état in Kiev. They are most certainly not “terrorist” organisations, although they are subjected to daily bombardments against civilian areas by Kiev putschist forces. Nevertheless, the then NDP leader, Thomas Mulcair, who would have agreed to almost anything to win power, answered in the affirmative. This must have been a moment of dismay for Canadians who still harboured illusions about the NDP as a progressive alternative to the Liberal and Conservative parties. How could it support a US/EU installed putschist regime which governs by intimidation and violence? In fact, it was a Conservative electoral strategy to obtain the votes of people of Ukrainian and East European descent by backing putschist Kiev and denouncing Russia. Mulcair was trying to outflank Harper on his right, but that did not work for he himself was outflanked on his left.

Some Canadians harboured illusions about the NDP as a progressive alternative to the Liberal and Conservative parties

In the 2015 federal elections the Liberals under Justin Trudeau, outwitted poor Mr. Mulcair and won the elections. The NDP suffered heavy electoral losses. Mulcair looked like someone who had made a Faustian bargain for nothing in return, and he lost a bid to remain as party leader. The Liberals campaigned on re-establishing better relations with the Russian Federation, but that promise did not hold up. The minister for external affairs, Stéphane Dion, tried to move forward on that line, but appears to have been stabbed in the back by Mr. Trudeau, with Ms. Freeland guiding his hand in the fatal blow. In early 2017 Dion was sacked and Freeland replaced him. That was the end of the Liberal promise to improve relations with the Russian government. Since then, under Freeland, Russian-Canadian relations have worsened.

The influential Mr. Grod appears to keep the Canadian government in his hip pocket. There are photographs of him side by side with Mr. Harper and then with Mr. Trudeau, with Ms. Freeland on his left. Mr. Grod has been a great success in backing putschist Kiev. Last summer Mr. Trudeau even issued a traditional Ukrainian fascist salute, “SlavaUkraini!”, to celebrate the anniversary of Ukrainian independence. The prime minister is a great believer in identity politics.

The influential Mr. Grod appears to keep the Canadian government in his hip pocket

The latest gesture of the Canadian government is to approve $1.4 million as a three year grant to promote a “Holodomor National Awareness Tour”. Ukrainian “nationalists” summon up the memory of the “Holodomor”, a famine in the Ukraine in 1932-1933, deliberately launched by Stalin, they say, in order to emphasise their victimisation by Russia. According to the latest Stalin biographer, Steven Kotkin, there was indeed a famine in the USSR that affected various parts of the country, the Ukraine amongst other regions. Kazakhstan, not the Ukraine suffered most. Between five and seven million people died. Ten millions starved. “Nonetheless, the famine was not intentional. It resulted from Stalin’s policies of forced collectivization…,” Kotkin writes, himself no advocate of the Soviet Union. Compulsion, peasant rebellion, bungling, mismanagement, drought, locust infestations, not targeting ethnicities, led to the catastrophe. “Similarly, there was no ‘Ukrainian’ famine,” according to Kotkin, “the famine was [a] Soviet[-wide disaster]” (Stalin, 2017, vol. 2, pp. 127-29). So the Liberal government is spending public funds to perpetuate a politically motivated myth to drum up hatred of Russia and to support putschist Kiev.

Identity politics and Canadian multiculturalism are now invoked to defend Ukrainian fascism celebrated in the streets of Kiev with torchlight parades and fascist symbols, remembering and celebrating Nazi collaborators and collaboration during World War II

The Canadian government also recently renewed funding for a detachment of 200 “advisors” to train Ukrainian militias, along with twenty-three million dollars—it is true a pittance by American standards—for “non-lethal” military aid, justified by Ms. Freeland to defend Ukrainian “democracy”. Truly, we live in a dystopian world where reality is turned on its head. Fascism is democracy; resistance to fascism is terrorism. Identity politics and Canadian multiculturalism are now invoked to defend Ukrainian fascism celebrated in the streets of Kiev with torchlight parades and fascist symbols, remembering and celebrating Nazi collaborators and collaboration during World War II. “Any country sending representatives to Russia’s celebration of the 70th anniversary of their victory against Adolf Hitler,” warned putschist Kiev in April 2015, “will be blacklisted by Ukraine.”

*  *  *

“The further a society drifts from the truth,” George Orwell once said, “the more it will hate those that speak it.”

Well, here is one truth that Mr. Trudeau and Ms. Freeland will not want to hear, hate it or not: 42,000 Canadian soldiers, not to mention 27 million Soviet citizens, died during the war against the Axis. Memories must be fading, for now we have come to this pass, where our government is supporting a violent, racist regime in Kiev directly descended from that very enemy against which Canada and its allies fought during World War II.

[foursprout-blog]

Why Canada Defends Ukrainian Fascism

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/why-canada-defends-ukrainian-fascism/

Why Canada Defends Ukrainian Fascism

Authored by Michael Jabara Carley via The Strategic Culture Foundation,

Canada has a reputation for being a relatively progressive state with universal, single-payer health care, various other social benefits, and strict gun laws, similar to many European countries but quite unlike the United States. It has managed to stay out of some American wars, for example, Vietnam and Iraq, portrayed itself as a neutral “peace keeper”, pursuing a so-called policy of “multilateralism” and attempting from time to time to keep a little independent distance from the United States.

Behind this veneer of respectability lies a not so attractive reality of elite inattention to the defence of Canadian independence from the United States and intolerance toward the political and syndicalist left. Police repression against communist and left-wing unionists and other dissidents after World War I was widespread. Strong support for appeasement of Nazi Germany, overt or covert sympathy for fascism, especially in Québec, and hatred of the Soviet Union were widespread in Canada during the 1930s. The Liberal prime minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, hobnobbed with Nazi notables including Adolf Hitler, and thought that his British counterpart Neville Chamberlain had not gone far enough in appeasing Hitlerite Germany. Mackenzie King and many others of the Canadian elite saw communism as a greater threat to Canada than fascism. As in Europe, the Canadian elite—Liberal or Conservative did not matter—was worried by the Spanish civil war (1936-1939). In Québec French public opinion under the influence of the Catholic Church hoped for fascist victory and the eradication of communism. In 1937 a Papal encyclical whipped up the Red Scare amongst French Canadian Catholics. Rejection of Soviet offers of collective security against Hitler was the obverse side of appeasement. The fear of victory over Nazi Germany in alliance with the USSR was greater than the fear of defeat against fascism. Such thoughts were either openly expressed over dinner at the local gentleman’s club or kept more discrete by people who did not want to reveal the extent of their sympathy for fascism.

The Liberal prime minister, William Lyon Mackenzie King, hobnobbed with Nazi notables including Adolf Hitler, and thought that his British counterpart Neville Chamberlain had not gone far enough in appeasing Hitlerite Germany

Even after the Nazi invasion of the USSR in June 1941, and the formation of the Grand Alliance against the Axis, there was strong reticence amongst the governing elite in Canada toward the Soviet Union. It was a shotgun marriage, a momentary arrangement with an undesirable partner, necessitated by the over-riding threat of the Nazi Wehrmacht.

“If Hitler invaded Hell,” Winston Churchill famously remarked, “I would make at least a favourable reference to the devil in the House of Commons.” Once Hitler was beaten, however, it would be back to business as usual. The Grand Alliance was a “truce”, as some of my students have proposed to me, in a longer cold war between the west and the USSR. This struggle began in November 1917 when the Bolsheviks seized power in Petrograd; it resumed after 1945 when the “truce”, or if you like, the Grand Alliance, came to a sudden end.

This was no more evident than in Canada where elite hatred of communism was a homegrown commodity and not simply an American imitation. So it should hardly be a surprise that after 1945 the Canadian government – Mackenzie King was still prime minister – should open its doors to the immigration of approximately 34,000 “displaced persons”, including thousands of Ukrainian fascists and Nazi collaborators, responsible for heinous war crimes in the Ukraine and Poland. These were veterans of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), the Waffen SS Galicia and the Organisation of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN), all collaborators of Nazi Germany during World War II.

Chrystia Freeland, the current Canadian minister for external affairs

The most notorious of the Nazi collaborators who immigrated to Canada was Mykhailo Chomiak, a mid-level Nazi operative in Poland, who came under US protection at the end of the war and eventually made his way to Canada where he settled in Alberta. Had he been captured by the Red Army, he would quite likely have been hanged for collaboration with the enemy. In Canada however he prospered as a farmer. His grand-daughter is the “Ukrainian-Canadian” Chrystia Freeland, the present minister for external affairs. She is a well-known Russophobe, persona non grata in the Russian Federation, who long claimed her grandfather was a “victim” of World War II. Her claims to this effect have been demonstrated to be untrue by the Australian born journalist John Helmer, amongst many others.

In 1940 the Liberal government facilitated the creation of the��Canadian Ukrainian Congress (UCC), one of many organisations used to fight or marginalise the left in Canada, in this case amongst Canadian Ukrainians. The UCC is still around and appears to dominate the Ukrainian-Canadian community. Approximately 1.4 million people living in Canada claim full or partial Ukrainian descent though generally the latter. Most “Ukrainian-Canadians” were born in Canada; well more than half live in the western provinces. The vast majority has certainly never set foot in the Ukraine. It is this constituency on which the UCC depends to pursue its political agenda in Ottawa.

The Canadian Ukrainian Congress (UCC) president Paul Grod

After the coup d’état in Kiev in February 2014 the UCC lobbied the then Conservative government under Stephen Harper to support the Ukrainian “regime change” operation which had been conducted by the United States and European Union. The UCC president, Paul Grod, took the lead in obtaining various advantages from the Harper government, including arms for the putschist regime in Kiev. It survives only through massive EU and US direct or indirect financial/political support and through armed backing from fascist militias who repress dissent by force and intimidation. Mr. Grod claims that Russia is pursuing a policy of “aggression” against the Ukraine. If that were true, the putschists in Kiev would have long ago disappeared. The Harper government allowed fund raising for Pravyi Sektor, a Ukrainian fascist paramilitary group, through two organisations in Canada including the UCC, and even accorded “charitable status” to one of them to facilitate their fund raising and arms buying. Harper also sent military “advisors” to train Ukrainian forces, the backbone of which are fascist militias. The Trudeau government has continued that policy. “Canada should prepare for Russian attempts to destabilize its democracy,” according to Minister Freeland: “Ukraine is a very important partner to Canada and we will continue to support its efforts for democracy and economic growth.” For a regime that celebrates violence and anti-Russian racism, represses political opposition, burns books, and outlaws the Russian language, “democracy” is an Orwellian portrayal of actual realities in the Ukraine. Nevertheless, late last year the Canadian government approved the sale of arms to Kiev and a so-called Magnitsky law imposing sanctions on Russian nationals.

The Harper government allowed fund raising for Pravyi Sektor, a Ukrainian fascist paramilitary group

There is no political opposition in the House of Commons to these policies. Even the New Democratic Party (NDP), that burnt out shell of Canadian social democracy, supported the Harper government, at the behest of Mr. Grod, a Ukrainian lobbyist who knows his way around Ottawa. In 2015 the UCC put a list of questions to party leaders, one of which was the following: “Does your party support listing the Luhansk People’s Republic and the Donetsk People’s Republic as terrorist organizations?” The Lugansk and Donetsk republics are of course anti-fascist resistance movements that emerged in reaction to the violent coup d’état in Kiev. They are most certainly not “terrorist” organisations, although they are subjected to daily bombardments against civilian areas by Kiev putschist forces. Nevertheless, the then NDP leader, Thomas Mulcair, who would have agreed to almost anything to win power, answered in the affirmative. This must have been a moment of dismay for Canadians who still harboured illusions about the NDP as a progressive alternative to the Liberal and Conservative parties. How could it support a US/EU installed putschist regime which governs by intimidation and violence? In fact, it was a Conservative electoral strategy to obtain the votes of people of Ukrainian and East European descent by backing putschist Kiev and denouncing Russia. Mulcair was trying to outflank Harper on his right, but that did not work for he himself was outflanked on his left.

Some Canadians harboured illusions about the NDP as a progressive alternative to the Liberal and Conservative parties

In the 2015 federal elections the Liberals under Justin Trudeau, outwitted poor Mr. Mulcair and won the elections. The NDP suffered heavy electoral losses. Mulcair looked like someone who had made a Faustian bargain for nothing in return, and he lost a bid to remain as party leader. The Liberals campaigned on re-establishing better relations with the Russian Federation, but that promise did not hold up. The minister for external affairs, Stéphane Dion, tried to move forward on that line, but appears to have been stabbed in the back by Mr. Trudeau, with Ms. Freeland guiding his hand in the fatal blow. In early 2017 Dion was sacked and Freeland replaced him. That was the end of the Liberal promise to improve relations with the Russian government. Since then, under Freeland, Russian-Canadian relations have worsened.

The influential Mr. Grod appears to keep the Canadian government in his hip pocket. There are photographs of him side by side with Mr. Harper and then with Mr. Trudeau, with Ms. Freeland on his left. Mr. Grod has been a great success in backing putschist Kiev. Last summer Mr. Trudeau even issued a traditional Ukrainian fascist salute, “SlavaUkraini!”, to celebrate the anniversary of Ukrainian independence. The prime minister is a great believer in identity politics.

The influential Mr. Grod appears to keep the Canadian government in his hip pocket

The latest gesture of the Canadian government is to approve $1.4 million as a three year grant to promote a “Holodomor National Awareness Tour”. Ukrainian “nationalists” summon up the memory of the “Holodomor”, a famine in the Ukraine in 1932-1933, deliberately launched by Stalin, they say, in order to emphasise their victimisation by Russia. According to the latest Stalin biographer, Steven Kotkin, there was indeed a famine in the USSR that affected various parts of the country, the Ukraine amongst other regions. Kazakhstan, not the Ukraine suffered most. Between five and seven million people died. Ten millions starved. “Nonetheless, the famine was not intentional. It resulted from Stalin’s policies of forced collectivization…,” Kotkin writes, himself no advocate of the Soviet Union. Compulsion, peasant rebellion, bungling, mismanagement, drought, locust infestations, not targeting ethnicities, led to the catastrophe. “Similarly, there was no ‘Ukrainian’ famine,” according to Kotkin, “the famine was [a] Soviet[-wide disaster]” (Stalin, 2017, vol. 2, pp. 127-29). So the Liberal government is spending public funds to perpetuate a politically motivated myth to drum up hatred of Russia and to support putschist Kiev.

Identity politics and Canadian multiculturalism are now invoked to defend Ukrainian fascism celebrated in the streets of Kiev with torchlight parades and fascist symbols, remembering and celebrating Nazi collaborators and collaboration during World War II

The Canadian government also recently renewed funding for a detachment of 200 “advisors” to train Ukrainian militias, along with twenty-three million dollars—it is true a pittance by American standards—for “non-lethal” military aid, justified by Ms. Freeland to defend Ukrainian “democracy”. Truly, we live in a dystopian world where reality is turned on its head. Fascism is democracy; resistance to fascism is terrorism. Identity politics and Canadian multiculturalism are now invoked to defend Ukrainian fascism celebrated in the streets of Kiev with torchlight parades and fascist symbols, remembering and celebrating Nazi collaborators and collaboration during World War II. “Any country sending representatives to Russia’s celebration of the 70th anniversary of their victory against Adolf Hitler,” warned putschist Kiev in April 2015, “will be blacklisted by Ukraine.”

*  *  *

“The further a society drifts from the truth,” George Orwell once said, “the more it will hate those that speak it.”

Well, here is one truth that Mr. Trudeau and Ms. Freeland will not want to hear, hate it or not: 42,000 Canadian soldiers, not to mention 27 million Soviet citizens, died during the war against the Axis. Memories must be fading, for now we have come to this pass, where our government is supporting a violent, racist regime in Kiev directly descended from that very enemy against which Canada and its allies fought during World War II.

[jansegers]

Simple English Word List

SIMPLE1540 : a simple English wikipedia word list based on the XML export of all articles related to the nine major groups: Everyday life, Geography, History, Knowledge, Language, Literature, People, Religion, and Science and retaining all word forms appearing 7 times or more in this corpus. The total number of words in this corpus is well over the 100.000 words. a A.D. ability able about above absence abstinence abstract academic academy accent accept access accord account across act action active activity actual actually ad add addition adherent adjective adult advance advice affect after again against age agnostic agnosticism ago agree agreement agriculture air alcohol all allow ally almost alone along alphabet also although always amateur amendment among amount an analysis ancient and angel animal annals anonymous another answer anthropomorphism any anyone anything aphasia appear apple apply approach archaeology architecture area argue argument around arrange art article artificial artist ask aspect associate association astronomy at atheism atheist atomic attack attempt attribute audience author authority available average avoid award away B.C. baby back background backpack bad bah balance band baptism base basic basis battle BCE be bear beautiful beauty because become bed bee before begin behavior behind being belief believe believing belong below best better between beyond bias biblical bibliography big billion biological biology birth bit black blind blood blue body book born both bottom boundary box boy brain branch bring brown buffalo build building bull burn business but by c. ca. calendar call can cancer canon capital caption car carbon card carry case cassette cat category cathedral catholic cause cell center central century cerebral certain change chapel chapter character chemical chemistry child china China choice choir choose chronicle church circumcise circumcision cite citizen city civil civilian civilization claim clan class classical cleanup clear clergy click climate close closer clothes clothing coast coauthor code codex cognitive col cold collection college colonization colony color column com come commentary commission common commonly communicate communication communion communist community companion company compare competition complete complex compose composer computer concept conception concern condition confuse confusion congregational connect connection conquer conquest consciousness consider consistent constitution construct construction contain contemporary content context continent continue contrary control convention conversation conversion convert cook cooking copy core correct could council country course court cover covered create creation credit crime critical criticism crop cross crust cultural culture current currently daily damage dark data date day dead death debt decadence decadent decide declaration decline deconstruction deep define definition deity demonstrate denomination department depth describe description design detail determinism developed development device devil diagnosis dialect dictionary die difference different difficult difficulty diphthong dipstick direct directly dirt disagree disambiguation disbelief discipline discover discovery discussion disease disorder distance distinct distinction distinguish distribution divide divine do doctor doctrine document dog don't door down Dr. dream drink drown druid due during dynasty each earlier early earth easier easily easy eat economic economics economy ed edge edit edition editor education effect eight either electric electricity electronic element elevation else emperor empire encyclopedia end energy engine engineering enlightenment enough enter entertainment environment environmental epic episode equal era error especially establish etc. etymology even event eventually ever every everyday everyone everything evidence evil evolution evolve exact exactly example except exchange exist existence expansion experience experiment expert explain explanation express expression external extinct face fact failure fair faith fall false family famous far fast father feature feel feeling female feudal few fiction field fight figure file find finding fire first fish fit five fix flow folk follow food for force foreign foreskin form formal former fortune fought foundation founded four fourth frame framework free freedom frequently friend from front fruit full function functional further future gas general generally generation genre geographer geographic geographical geography geology geometry germ get give glass global go god gold golden good government grammar great greatly green ground group grow growth guide guillotine hair half hall hand handbook handicap handle happen happens happiness happy hard have he head heading health hear heat heaven help hemisphere her here heritage hero high highly him himself his historian historical historiography history hold holy home homo hope hot hour house how however human hundred hunter hypothesis hysteresis I ice icon idea identify identity if illiteracy illiterate illusory image importance important impossible improve in inc. incense include increase indeed independence independent indigenous individual industrial industry influence information inquiry inside instead institute institution instrument instrumentation intellectual intelligence interlinear internal international internet interpretation into introduce introduction invent invention involve iron island issue it IT itself job join journal journalism judge just keep key kill kind king kingdom know knowledge la LA label lack lake lamp land landlocked landscape language large last late later law lead leader leap learn learned least leave legacy legal legend let letter level lexeme library life light lightning like likely limited line linguistic linguistics link liquid list literacy literary literature little liturgy live local location logic logical long longer look lord lore lose lot love low lower mac machine magazine magic magnetic magnum mail main mainly major make male mammal man mankind manuscript many map march March mark market mass material mathematical mathematics matter may May me mean meaning meant measure measurement meat median medical medicine medieval mediterranean medium meet member memory men mental mention mercury message metal method mid middle might migrate migration military millennium million mind minister minute misconception miss model modern modernism modernist moment money monologue monophthong month monument moon moral morality more morning most mostly mother mount mountain mouth move movement much museum music musical musicians must my myth mythology name narrative nation national nationality native natural naturalism naturally nature near nearly necessarily necessary need negative neither neologism network neurogenesis neuron neuroscience never new news newspaper next night nine no non none nor normal normally not note nothing noun novel now nuclear number object objective objectivity observation observe occupation occur ocean octane of off offer office official officially often oil old older on once one online only open opera opposite or oral orbit order org organization organize origin original originally orthography orthology other others our out outer outside over own oxygen p. pack pagan page paint palace paper paradigm parent parish park part participant particular particularly party pas pass past pasta pattern pay peace peer penguin penis people per percent percentage perception performance perhaps period peroxide persecution person personal personality perspective persuasion pet phenomenon philosopher philosophical philosophy phoneme phonetic phonetics photo phrase physic physical picture piece pilgrimage place plan planet plant plat plate play please poem poems poet poetry point pole police policy political politics polytheism polytheistic popular population position positive possession possible possibly post power powerful pp. practical practice praise pray prayer precise predict prediction prehistory present preserve press prevent priest primary principle print printing private probably problem process produce product production professional program project pronounce pronunciation proof property prophet propose prose proselytism protection protein provide province psychological psychology public publication publish publisher publishing punishment pure purpose put pyramid quantum question quickly quite quote race racial rack radiation radio rain range rate rather read reader real realism reality really reason receive recent recently reclamation recognize record recreation red ref refer reference referred reform reformation regard region reign rejection relate relation relationship relatively relativity reliable relic religion religious remain remember remove renaissance replace report republic request require research researcher resource respect response result resurrection retrieve return revelation revert review revision revival revolution rhetoric rich right rise ritual river rock role room royal rule ruled ruler run rural sacred sacrifice safe saga sage saint salad same sample satellite saw say schizophrenia scholar school science scientific scientist scope sea search second secondary section secular see seek seem selection self sense sent sentence separate sequence series service set seven several sexual shall shaman shape share she short should show shrine side sign significant silence similar simple simply since single situation six size skill skin slavery sleep slightly slow small smell smith snake so social society sociology soft soil solar soldier solid soliloquy some someone something sometimes song soon sortable sound source space speak speaker special specie specific speech speed spell spirit spiritual spirituality split sport spread square st. stage stain standard star start state statement station statistic statistical statue status stick still stone stop story strange strap strong structure struggle stub student study stutter style subject successful such sugar suggest sun sung sunlight superior superiority supernatural support suppose supreme sure surface survey surveyor sushi sustainability sustainable sweat symbol symbolic system table take talk tam tan task teach teacher teaching technique technology tectonics teeth tell temperature template temple ten term terminology territory tertiary test testament text textual than thank that the their theism them themselves then theology theoretical theory therapy there therefore thesaurus these they thick thing think third this those though thought thousand three through throughout thumb thus ticket tight time title to today together toilet tolerance toleration tongue too tool top topic total towards tower trade tradition traditional train translation transport travel treat treatment tree trench trial tribe tried trig true truth try turn twentieth twenty two type typical typically ultimate ultraviolet under understand understood union unit united universal universe university unknown unsortable until up upon upper urban urbanization usage use useful usually valley value van vandalism various vassal vegetable verb verbal verse version very video view violence virgin visit vitamin vocabulary voice vol. volume vowel vs. wale wall want war warm warmer wash waste water wave way we weak wealth wear weather web website weight well what when where whether which while white who whole whom whose why wide widely wild wilderness will window wisdom wise witch witchcraft with within without witness woman word work worker world worship would write writer writing wrong yam year yellow you young your

China, March and May made this list because china, march and may are on it and I didn't want to decide in favor of the common noun or the proper noun; all other proper nouns have been omitted (even the ten other months that met the criterium of appearing more then 6 times). #SimpleWikipedia #SimpleEnglish #wordlist #English #words #level1540 #Inli #nimi #selo1540

[swelldomains]

Running a Successful Link Building Campaign in 2014

It's been almost two years because Google introduced Penguin. Absolutely nothing of that magnitude has actually been launched because, as well as some are guessing that 2014 will certainly bring with it the following major web link penalty formula. Either method, Google has been constantly fine-tuning its techniques, and several web link structure techniques have linked off for almost the most spammy SEOs.

Knowing this, exactly how need to we approach link build in the year ahead?

Emphasize Well-known Web link Building

Anchor text simply isn't really the ranking variable it as soon as was. There was a time when specific or partial match anchor message was a solid signal, but in the wake of Penguin it could commonly wind up doing more harm than good.

It's true that precise and partial match anchor text still associate heavily with search rankings, yet Google +1 s out perform everything (besides Web page Authority), and also Matt Cutts has extremely plainly mentioned that those do not influence rankings.

Our data isn't suggesting any type of substantial bump from matching anchor text when compared to even more natural links. The correlation is, even more than likely, a negative effects of that sites with more links in general are mosting likely to end up with even more matching anchor message links.

With that in mind, I have actually been urging the use of well-known anchor text instead.

While it holds true that well-known anchor message is a lot less most likely to bring in a fine, this isn't really the only reason we are recommending it.

Using your brand in the context of a web link attracts more interest. Even visitors that do not wind up clicking the link will be most likely to remember you in the future, especially if they see your trademark name stated a 2nd time. Hyperlinks tend to attract the eye a lot more than the bordering text.

I would certainly also want to include that branded link building isn't really practically branding your anchor text.

Branded web link build is actually regarding utilizing link build opportunities as brand building possibilities too. A visitor article isn't just a possibility to develop a web link as well as increase search engine exposure. It's also an opportunity making an impression as well as associate it with your brand name. The same goes for basically any other web link structure opportunity, assuming you have any kind of participation in the process.

Don' t neglect our mantra: if this link were no-follow, would you still develop it? If so, it's the most effective of both worlds. Otherwise, it's probably a waste of time. For more on our approach about link structure, this checklist of mistaken beliefs regarding web links from visitor messages need to make clear things.

In short, a contemporary web link structure method is even more than simply a SEO web link build strategy. It's a way to improve brand impressions, drive web traffic, as well as increase conversions. This kind of web link structure is a win from both angles: it's the most effective approach for earning ROI also without the internet search engine, as well as it's probably to supply the very best long-term SEO value.

Build In-House Possessions that will Get Hyperlinks Naturally

As high as well-known link building can improve your Search Engine Optimization worth, it's not entirely what Google is trying to find. Some Search engine optimizations have actually hypothesized that Google will launch an update to target drained tier visitor articles this year. You could like us because camp, although 2014 may be betting on it a little very early. In either case, it's clear from Google's terms of company that any form of link building used to control search rankings could be thought about component of a link scheme, as well as Google could as well as will certainly remain to redefine just what they consider manipulative.

At this point, it ought to be clear that visitor posting purely for SEO worth is a strategy that presently bases on slim ice. The same goes with badges, infographics, and press launch links.

What Google really wants to see are editorial links. Guest articles (and comparable methods) over top quality, greatly used, human-edited blogs are most likely to remain in this group. However links that are given openly, depending on absolutely no outreach, are ideal of all.

Some Search engine optimizations scoff at the idea of purely natural web links like these. They suggest that these kinds of links rarely occur, which only websites that have currently achieved some popularity can doing this.

I'll agree that you can't rely on content alone to capture these kinds of web links. You will should promote the content, but it is possible to do this in such a way various other compared to outright looking for web links. Here are a few examples

Posting on online forums, which despite seeming a little bit web 1.0, are still really a lot more popular compared to blogs.

Working with influencers. While links directly from that influencer can't be thought about purely editorial, any type of secondary web links that occur from the interaction certainly can be. (It's worth noting that if no money altered hands, the link from the influencer is still extremely important as well as probably safe.)

If the influencer posts on your site, it's also alright to pay them, and also the resulting direct exposure is likely to cause links.

While links from news release can't be counted on to assist rankings, they are still a completely legit means to construct exposure that can result in links. This is especially true if you draw a promotion feat of some kind. The more imaginative, the better. The secret is to do something that deserves discussing in the information, and also making it very easy to link to a web page relevant to the tale on your site.

However you promote it, it's definitely crucial that you have at least one top tier possession on your site that is bound to draw in web links. Below's the kind of trait I'm speaking about:

If you run any kind of kind of promotion feat, make certain you produce a press-friendly web page on your site providing reporters with all of the sources they should cover it. This transforms a pure press stunt into a SEO property. Press stunts alone seldom attract as several links as would be perfect. If you publish a relevant item of material on your website, nonetheless, you're a lot more likely to gain links from journalists.

Proprietary data and initial studio work excellent as linkable possessions. Journalists and blog writers love to recommendation sector researches, especially if those studies occur to show a point they have actually been aiming to make. Carrying out an impartial research on a questionable topic can be an excellent way to earn links.

Interactivity has a means of standing out online. Look no further than any type of among the top 10 sites online and you will certainly see that every one of them is constructed around either an interactive tool or a neighborhood of some kind. Launching an on-line software tool absolutely free is an excellent way to earn interest on tech sites. If the tool is made to be useful for a certain niche of the market, bloggers from that field are most likely to connect to it as well.

Think of the type of web content you would certainly either put up for sale or make use of to build up an email listing. If you produce one of these and make it available to everybody, it could be an excellent method to gain links.

Fix Up Broken Links

For those that aren't sure, broken web link build has to do with contacting web designers, allowing them learn about broken web links on their site, and recommending among your personal as an alternative.

Some Search engine optimizations are beginning to move this under the umbrella of "grey hat," as well as I assume this is regrettable. I'll agree that it's deceptive and also underhanded if you impersonate someone else when you do it (for one reason or another this seems to be a common technique), but besides that I do not see anything manipulative about the technique. Recommending your web link in place of a busted web link could not be purely natural, but that's simply as true for guest publishing, or any type of other kind of outreach.

In any instance, it would be tough to say that links offered as a result of broken web link structure aren't editorial. These links are being given by human beings, as well as they delight in enough with the content you are recommending to url to it. That is almost the interpretation of an editorial link.

There are a few various ways to approach damaged link build. One of my favorites originates from Backlinko, called "the relocating male approach." It functions similar to this:

Find sites that have actually transformed names, moved, closed down, quit updating, or stopped offering something. Also if you use a damaged link building service tool like Inspect My Links, a number of these pages will still show as working, since they will usually be replaced with "this web page not exists," or something along those lines.

Use a link tool like Ahrefs or OpenSiteExplorer (in this instance Ahrefs ought to be a far better selection, given that they have a larger link graph), and export all the websites that connected to the missing out on page.

Now you could drop the list and also contact these people, letting them know regarding the broken web link, and also recommending yours as an option. Directly, I've located that you commonly get a far better feedback if you just let them know they have a busted web link, and after that ask if they would like you to point it out. This is since a whole lot of individuals will neglect your initial email the extremely second they see a link in it, occasionally even if it's a connect to their very own website. Your task is to obtain past that preliminary filter to ensure that they'll take you seriously.

As I pointed out before, you could use a tool like Check My Hyperlinks to locate damaged links also. This can usually be much faster, but you will frequently finish up with less powerful web links, considering that these sort of web links are more most likely to be captured already.

Take Benefit of Link Prospecting Tools

As much as our team believe in all-natural web links, outreach is still a huge part of link build, and also I would suggest that the bulk of Search engine optimizations still do not place enough emphasis on it. There is nothing more "all-natural" about visitor uploading than connecting to web designers and either requesting for links or structure commercial property relationships with them.

When it comes right to it, mass outreach link structure frequently results in even more content, even more natural web links than guest posting does. It certainly results in more all-natural, editorial links compared to mass guest posting.

While I strongly believe that outreach ought to be tailored for each and every individual prospect, also the spammiest outreach project won't construct a solitary "unnecessary" link. As long as the webmasters are human, as well as determining on their own whether they need to position a link, it's a content link.

With that in mind, there's one device combo that I assume every Search Engine Optimization must be making use of:

Link Prospector from Citation Labs

Buzzstream

In about ten mins, Link Miner can locate you a checklist of a thousand approximately calls associated to a search inquiry that you define. You can additionally include exemptions, to ensure that you don't wind up with a lot of Facebook pages, specific rivals, or of course your own website. You could likewise choose whether to look the whole internet, or simply blogs, among a number of other things.

Once you have a checklist of calls, you can conveniently export it over to Buzzstream.

We spoke about Buzzstream when we spoke about 7 tools you should make use of for content advertising and also link structure. It is among the most valuable devices around for speaking to link potential customers and also influencers, and remaining in touch. You can conveniently arrange them by vital SEO metrics, and Buzzstream instantly discovers e-mail addresses as well as other contact details. It likewise allows you to create design templates to accelerate your outreach.

As I stated in the last area, I normally stay clear of putting any type of web links in my very first outreach email. Rather, I attempt to make use of the initial e-mail to begin a discussion. The key is to quickly allow them recognize that you recognize who they are with some kind of referral, let them understand just what you have to supply, and afterwards ask if they want to understand more.

When you are willing to ask them a question, it promptly sends the message that you wish to talk directly to them. This makes them a lot more likely to believe of you as a human being, and more probable to work with you.

While it's crucial to maintain the e-mail short, it's likewise crucial to keep it very specific. The objective of your outreach must be to resolve a problem for your web link leads. The more particular that issue, the much more interested they will remain in hearing your solution.

I impulse you to take a look at our overview of influencer outreach to discover more.

Focus on Internal Pages

As time takes place, it makes much less feeling to aim links to the web page of your site. Naturally, this could be the most sensible location to connect to from a writer bio or a sidebar. Generally, though, you ought to be going for something a little bit a lot more targeted.

From a pure SEO standpoint, a lot of web links to the homepage symbolizes fabricated web link build. It goes deeper than that. It also suggests that your interior pages typically aren't specifically valuable. If the only web page worth linking to is your web page, why exist so many web pages on your site?

From a customer perspective, inner web links frequently make even more feeling too. The residence page of your website is generally the most awful place to send a site visitor if they have actually already been heated up by some various other piece of material. Relevance is essential. If this was an AdSense ad, you would not throw away money sending them to the homepage when you could send them to a more relevant page. The same is real for link building.

Just as specificity is very important during outreach, it is very important during connecting. Broad options to broad troubles hardly ever interest people. They seem too generic, and normally reek of empty guarantees. When you connect to a really certain property on your website, you are much more likely to encourage individuals to click with as well as take a look at it.

Conclusion

If there's one point I wish you remove from this post, right here it is: diversify your web link structure efforts. I would not trust visitor blog posts alone sufficing by the end of 2014. While top tier visitor messages will certainly be a fundamental part of SEO for the foreseeable future, reduced tier guest messages go to danger. Smart SEOs will certainly have to start thinking of various other ways to develop as well as make editorial links.

So there you have it. If you found this beneficial, we 'd love it if you passed it along. Thanks for analysis, and also please leave a remark if you have something to add.