#like its not acknowledged. she just keeps treating her sister badly and is suddenly shocked when she wants to leave

[perenlop]

ivypool is a character who has a really really good concept that the fandom does admittedly catch on to, but in the actual books the execution is just so. weird.

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Promises Not Kept Part 14

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 14: They lay a good man to rest. Polly gives Leah some good advice.

           Tommy remembered the morning after he returned to Small Heath from France. He was home but he merely felt like a ghost of himself. Everything he once knew felt strange and unlike he remembered it. He wasn’t the man he was when he left for the front lines. There was a brief memory of hearing Arthur and John downstairs, talking animatedly to Finn who was just a boy back then. Tommy stared out the window down to Watery Lane. The street he used to run up and down when he was Finn’s age. Now, he was back. A soldier bruised and damaged far deeper than just his skin. But he wasn’t done. The war hadn’t killed him so he wasn’t finished. The world would know the Shelby name whether it liked it or not.

           The morning of John’s funeral, Tommy stood at the same window looking down at the same street. People were starting to remember the Shelby name. But the cost had been more severe than Tommy initially anticipated. There was no turning back though. He was in too deep.

           With a sigh, Tommy stepped into the steaming bath in the middle of the bedroom. Charlie and Leah were still asleep. The little boy was completely unaware of what was happening around him.

           Leah began to stir as Tommy lit a cigarette. She sat up and carefully detached herself from Charlie who was clinging to her in his sleep. It had been a long night. Most of the family was in a shock, unlike anything they’d experienced before. It seemed unfathomable to think John would ever die. He was such a robust figure of the family. Now the previously shattered family was further broken.

           But at least they were all together for the first time in ages.

           “Tom.” Leah sat up and tried to read his face. His eyes were glazed over, mind obviously elsewhere.

           His head twitched slightly in her direction, the only acknowledgment that he’d actually heard her.

           Leah sighed softly and stood. She picked up her dressing gown and wrapped it around herself. “How are you feeling today?” She pulled up a small stool up to the bathtub.

           Tommy rested his hand on the edge of the tub, his cigarette hanging between his fingers. He stared at the wall in front of him. “I don’t know.” He finally admitted quietly.

           Leah’s forehead wrinkled. “I’m sorry.” She whispered and touched his arm, catching on some of the lingering water droplets from the bath water. “I’ve been awful to you for the past few weeks.”

           He shook his head subtly. “No. I haven’t been treating you the way you deserve.” Guilt pooled in his stomach, building up with all the rest of it he’d felt for everything he’d done. “I can’t promise it’ll all be easy from here on out.”  

           “I know.” She absent-mindedly rubbed her thumb over his arm.

           There was a knock on the door. “Tommy, they’ve gathered.”

           Leah grabbed the towel Tommy had set out for himself. She offered a hand to him as he stood up. “We should let Charlie sleep.” She suggested quietly.

           He nodded and stepped out of the bathtub, drying off with the towel. They both began to get dressed, staying quiet so Charlie didn’t wake.

           “My family’s downstairs.” He explained. “I want you to be there with me.”

           Leah took his outstretched hand. “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy only let go of Leah’s hand so she could stand near Isaiah and Jeremiah. But he stopped her and pulled out a chair for her. Leah paused and looked at him questioningly. Sitting at the table was obviously a status she didn’t think she’d earned yet. Not even Finn was seated.

           He cleared his throat and nodded, assuring her without any words. So she sat between Polly and Linda. She caught the gaze of Lizzie who averted her eyes pointedly only a second later.

           The atmosphere of the room was somber. All of them mourning the brother and nephew. All of them worried for Michael still fighting for his life in the hospital.

           “John is dead,” Tommy spoke in a low but steady voice. His hand was tight around Leah’s, pulling every ounce of support he could from her touch. “Esme has gone on the road with the Lees and she’s taken the kids. Michael is badly wounded. They say it’s sixty-forty in his favor.”

           Polly glared at him. “There’s no number, there’s no percentage.” She informed him sternly. “My son’ll live.”

           Tommy didn’t argue with her. There was no point. He wanted his cousin to survive just as much as the rest of them did. “Michael and John were shot because we killed someone. Vincente Changretta. His son, Luca, has come to take revenge.” He reported the reasons for the chaos the day before. “Men from New York and Sicily are here in Birmingham. These men will not leave our city until our whole family is dead. That’s how it works.” He looked to each of his family members. All who were left. “It’s called vendetta. An eye for an eye.”

           Arthur reached into his pocket. “Yeah, well the bullet’s been written. Says Luca.” He twisted it between his fingers before carefully placing it on the table in front of him.

           Leah could see the crude letters scratched into the metal surface of the bullet.

           LUCA.

           “When the time comes. And it’ll come.” He spoke firmly. “I will put this bullet in his fucking head.”

           Tommy rested his hands on the table and looked exhausted. “There’s been some bad blood between us.”

           Polly laughed sarcastically and shook her head. The tension between the two was almost visible and the rest of the room remained silent.

           Still, he persisted. “Until this business is settled, we say together. And we stay here. Small Heath, Bordesley, Hay Mills, down to Greet.” He instructed.

           “Daddy?”

           Leah turned when she heard Charlie’s voice coming from the top of the stairs. She met eyes with Tommy. “I’ll get him.” She said quietly and stood.

           Charlie was standing on the stairs, a pout on his face. “Wanted daddy.” He repeated again, clearly disappointed that Tommy hadn’t come running to retrieve him.

           “He’s busy right now, poppet, I’m here though.” She said softly and held her arms out to him.

    ��      The little boy smiled and trotted down the steps into her arms, still dressed in his pajamas. “Breakfast?” He inquired.

           “Not right now. Everyone’s talking in the kitchen.” Leah rested him on her hip. “Hopefully they’ll be done soon.” She bit her lip and looked towards the door. Part of her didn’t want to know what else they were talking about.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

           One of the girls from the betting shop would watch Karl, Charlie, and Billy while the rest of them were at the funeral. Leah walked arm in arm with Tommy down Watery Lane, the rest of the family following close behind. There were heavily armed men standing by on each corner, some even up on the rooftops.

           Leah tugged Tommy closer to her, afraid that they would still be attacked even with the battalion of men ready to fight for them.

           Tommy kissed her temple. “S’alright.” He murmured. “Everything will be alright.”

           In the field right outside the city, the vardos were already camped out, ready to give John Shelby a fitting farewell.

           Leah quietly placed a bundle of flowers among the pyre. She softly spoke her words of goodbye and thanked him for keeping Jonah’s memory alive. She returned to the group, standing beside Ada.

           “Don’t think I haven’t noticed the ring.” Tommy’s sister said in a voice low enough that those around them wouldn’t hear.

           “I let it be Tommy’s responsibility to tell everyone. Now’s not the right time.” She replied.

           “None of this is scaring you away?” Ada wondered.

           Leah stared ahead. Of course, she was scared. Tommy spoke of a war. A war like the one she’d lost her husband to. They would be in the trenches, fighting a war of vengeance. There was no telling who else they’d lose. “I lost my soul a long time ago.” She spoke steadily. “Tommy’s the only person who ever managed to lead me back to who I used to be. If I must fight beside him then I will.”

           “You might die for him, Leah. What then?” Ada questioned. “You have no stake in this fight. What would you be dying for other than your loyalty?”

           “All this family has right now is loyalty. All we have is each other.”

           Tommy began to speak, disrupting any chance Ada had to try and convince Leah to get out while she could. His fiancee listened to him speak about France. His blue eyes met hers a few times as he spoke. His voice never wavering as he tried to remain strong and keep his family together.

           “You remembered that God spared you,” Polly spoke up after Tommy paused for a brief second. The older woman stared daggers at her nephew with tears in her eyes. “But what did you do with that extra time he gave you? Aye, Thomas?”

           “Poll.” Ada touched her aunt’s shoulder to both stop her from continuing and to comfort her.

           Arthur decided to step in before they argued and lit a match. The family stood silently and watched as the pyre lit and began to envelop the vardo in flames. Snaking its way up the woodwork and setting the canvas cover ablaze.

           Leah stepped toward Tommy and took his hand in hers. He kept his eyes straight ahead. Waiting.

           Suddenly, the funeral was interrupted by a gunshot only yards away. Leah’s heart seized in her chest and she froze. Ada was quicker on her feet and dragged her to the ground for cover.

           “At ease!” Tommy shouted. Along with Arthur, he was the only one still standing. The rest of the Blinders had dropped the instant they heard the gunshot. All of them thought it was their time and the funeral had made them into sitting ducks.

           Leah raised her head when she heard Tommy yelling. “Do not return fire! The men doing the firing are on our side.” He held out a hand to his fiancee to help her stand.

           She flinched when a second gunshot rang out across the field. “What’s going on?” Her eyes were wide with fear.

           “I took the trouble of giving an invitation to Aberama Gold.”

           The name was unfamiliar to Leah. But Johnny Dogs gave her some insight. “Oh fuck, now it’s begun.”

           Leah began to feel dizzy and she reached out for Tommy’s arm. “I feel sick.” She whispered.

           “You used John’s funeral fire as a fucking beacon,” Polly exclaimed in a ragged voice. The disbelief clear on her face.

           “We were never in any danger, Poll,” Arthur said.

           “You used us as fucking bait!”

           Leah’s breathing became shallower and soon Tommy wasn’t enough to hold her up. Her knees began to buckle. “Tommy…” She gripped his arm tight.

           “Finn!” He called out for his youngest brother. “Get a boat

           In the distance, a group of men and horses began approaching the vardos. Leah’s stomach turned again when she saw the limp arm of someone slumped over one of the horses. Visible blood was dripping from the fingertips “Who’s dead?” She asked.

           Tommy ignored her but Polly jumped on the question as well. “Who’s dead?” The woman demanded.

           Leah’s vision began to blur and every word spoken was starting to blur together. Ada looked concerned when she saw how pale the young woman’s face had gone. “Sit, come and sit.” She had to pry Leah off her brother to get her to sit down.

           “Anyone who wants no more part in this, ‘cause this is how it’s gonna be!” Tommy shouted, piercing Leah’s ears before she lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~

       Everything about John’s funeral was dramatic. It was something he might’ve actually enjoyed. He always reveled in a little bit of chaos. But things calmed down once Leah was brought to the hospital and the Italian’s bodies were shipped off.

           Tommy’s fiancee was placed in the same room as Michael so the men protecting him could also keep a close eye on her. She’d come to when they were still in the field beside the burning vardo. Polly knelt down next to her, propping her head up on the dew-covered grass while Ada and Tommy stood over her arguing.

           “The first person they’re going to go after is your fiancee, Tommy, they already killed Grace!” The Shelby woman shouted.

           With frayed nerves, Tommy was more than happy to oblige his sister and yelled back at her. “Don’t talk about things you don’t know anything about!”

           “Right because I’m just a stupid woman. Stupid Ada who knows nothing. I know that Grace was killed by Italians. What’s stopping them from killing Leah too?”

           “They’re trying to fucking kill all of us, Ada!”

           Leah’s head still spun, her hand reaching for Tommy, trying to calm him down. Instead, Polly gently took her lifted hand and pressed a cold cloth to her forehead.

           “Stop bickering and help me get her to the car.” Polly snapped at her niece and nephew.

           Tommy huffed and stooped to scoop Leah up in his arms. Bringing her to the car, he assured her nothing would happen and not to listen to Ada. She simply pressed her face into his shoulder and closed her eyes. She didn’t know who to listen to anymore.

~~~~~~~

           Michael was still out cold when Leah felt well enough to sit up. She was glad to see the young man was properly stitched up. She didn’t know much about medicine but he appeared to have a good chance of surviving.

           After she sat up, Polly came into the room. She scolded the men slacking off by the door and confiscated their flasks before sending them out to the hall.

           “How are you feeling?” The older woman asked as she slipped off her coat and draped it over Michael’s legs.

           “Better, thank you. I just think it was shock.” She admitted. “I wasn’t expecting all of that.”

           Polly frowned as she sat down. None of them were but maybe they should’ve gotten used to Tommy’s surprise tactics. It would make life a lot easier. “Have you been ill?” She wondered.

           Leah shook her head. “No, I’ve been fine. Maybe just a little…” She sighed and shrugged. “It’s been a difficult few months. I mean, nothing like what you went through, I’m sure.”

           She didn’t want to talk about her time in prison and how Tommy was the one to put her there. “You’re not pregnant, right?”

           Her eyes widened a little in shock. She wasn’t expecting the question. “No, I uh…I bled last week.” She explained shyly.

           “Good.” Polly nodded firmly. Now was not the time to have a baby. Not in the state they were in. A war.

           Leah nodded absent-mindedly and ran her fingers through her hair to fix it. She found a few pieces of grass that had tangled in her blonde curls after lying on the ground. “Tommy and I…I feel like we haven’t even slept in the same bed in ages.” She whispered. Shame settled deep in her bones. How pathetic it was to spend such little time with her fiancee, to be so cold towards each other.

           “My nephew is a complicated man.” Polly agreed and pulled the chair up closer to Leah. Her face had softened since the funeral. It appeared her aggression was only directed towards Tommy and didn’t include his fiancee. If anything she felt bad for the young woman. Anyone who fell for such a man was in for a surprise, and not necessarily anything good. She loved Tommy but he was a huge pain in the ass.

           “Am I making a mistake, Poll?” Leah asked quietly. “I mean am I just being thick?” Her eyes lowered to the ring on her finger.

           “Some people will tell you to be smart and look out for yourself and yourself only. Others will tell you to follow your heart blindly.” Polly rested a hand on hers. “But listen here, despite what people say, women are not meant to be put aside in the corner.”

           She sniffled and let out a little tearful laugh. “Could’ve convinced me otherwise.” Leah thought about all the years she spent being submissive. Forcing herself to be quiet and complacent in order to pay rent and groceries. For a long while, she adopted the personality into her everyday life. If a man cut her in line at the butchers, she never spoke up. She grew a staggering amount of patience for the world around her and its inhabitants. She thought it was a good quality to have but sometimes it led to her being walked over.

           A woman like Polly was something of an enigma to her. A strong person who ran the Shelby company while her nephews were off at war. Took shit from no one and announced her presence wherever she went to make sure people didn’t cross her.

           Still, both women were damaged. That was clear if you pulled back the curtain. They were surviving in a man’s world. Doing the best they could while embroiled in a war they didn’t start.

           “Speak your mind sometimes.” Polly encouraged in a soft voice. “If you keep it all inside then you’re the only one to suffer. A relationship, romantic or not, is a two-way street. The other person should have to listen as much as they talk. If they don’t want to listen then they should just get a fucking parrot. That way they’ll have someone to talk to and someone to agree with everything they say.”

           Leah smiled and felt a little relieved that she wasn’t alone. “I do love him.”

           “I know.” She nodded and squeezed Leah’s hand. “And he loves you. I know he’ll listen, he’s just stubborn sometimes.”

           “Now’s really not the time to talk his ear off ‘bout petty things though.”

           Polly frowned. “If he’s got time to fuck about with the Golds then he has time to listen to his wife-to-be.” She asserted. “Don’t make excuses.”

           Leah nodded. “Alright, I won’t.” She promised. Her eyes moved to Michael’s bed when she heard him stirring.

           Polly hurried over to speak to him for the first time since he awoke from his surgery. “Sh, sh, don’t move.” She soothed softly and touched his shoulder to keep him still.

           As she spoke gently to her son, Leah mindlessly ran her hands through her hair, thinking about all the things she wanted to say to Tommy. It wouldn’t be easy, but Polly was right. She was only suffering by keeping her silence.

~~~~~~~~~~

           A few days after the funeral, Leah went to find Tommy at the car factory offices. There was always a good deal of chaos there as it was a working factory, but when she entered, the air was filled with electricity. Something had clearly happened that had riled everyone up.

           It wasn’t long before she found her fiancee speaking with his brother on the first floor. They were standing next to what appeared to be a makeshift boxing ring set up with ropes.

           “Tommy,” She called out his name above the loud atmosphere.

           He turned from talking quietly to Arthur. “Come to surprise me?” He smiled. Things after the funeral had been stuck in a strange stage between the two. They weren’t as cold to each other because there simply wasn’t time to argue or fight. Tommy’s mind was elsewhere but he seemed conscious enough to realize he had to be pleasant towards Leah to keep her spirits up. Especially now that the rest of the family knew about the engagement. All he wanted was to get rid of the Americans and get back to the good relationship he had with Leah. It was a tall order but Tommy was never one to shy away from a challenge.

           She smiled back, hoping they could keep up the positivity, especially since she went to the factory to talk. There were things that needed to be said. Things that she’d been holding onto for some time, especially after her talk with Polly at the hospital.

           “Missed a good fight, Leah,” Arthur told her joyfully. “We’ll make sure you don’t miss the next one.”

           “As long as you tell me who to bet for.” She laughed softly and touched Tommy’s arm. “Can we talk upstairs? I’ve brought lunch, Ada and I made it, put a bit of Linda’s cake in there as well.”

           “I’ve got a meeting, actually.” Tommy wrapped an arm around her waist and began walking towards the stairs with her.

           “You didn’t eat breakfast, I’m sure your meeting can wait.” She insisted hopefully.

           “She’s not a patient person, and I’m already running behind schedule. But you can stay in my office, we’ll have lunch after, aye?”

           Leah nodded slowly. “Okay, I can wait.” She’d waited this long, what was another half an hour?

           When noon struck, Leah was still in Tommy’s office. She was smoking a cigarette when she heard a commotion downstairs. Shouts and movement lured her back outside to the promenade that overlooked the first floor.

           Tommy came out of the conference room with a stern expression. He stood at the railing watching the factory workers all walking out of the building.

           “Tom,” She attempted to reach out to him but he simply turned to walk into his office.

           He tugged viciously at his tie, pulling it off and tossing it to his desk. Leah could see every muscle in his back was taut when he shrugged off his coat as well. “Close the door.” His voice was firm and he turned to flip the blinds, blocking out the sun.

           She listened and shut the office door behind her. “What happened? Where’s everyone going?”

           Nothing. He simply began to unbutton his waistcoat and carelessly tearing off his cufflinks.

           “Tommy.” She walked over to him and touched his arm. “Talk to me.”

           He turned around abruptly and cradled her cheeks. Before she could react he kissed her fiercely. All of his anger and grief funneled into the kiss. He dropped his hand to her hip and guided her back against his desk.

           Leah’s thighs hit against the edge of the desk. She grimaced and she pressed her hands against his chest to push him back. “Tommy, please, I wanted to talk.” She whispered, reminding him of the reason she’d come to the office.

           His breathing was off-kilter and he touched his forehead to hers. “I can’t think right now.” He muttered.

           “Just a moment…”

           “Leah, please.” He stepped away from her and dragged a hand through his hair. “Now’s not the time.”

           Leah perched hesitantly on the edge of his desk. “Will there ever be a time?” Her eyes lifted and she tried to listen to Polly’s previous advice and not just give in. She wasn’t going to let him just bend her over the desk to release his frustrations. Not if he wasn’t going to listen to her.

           Tommy slipped off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “When I get home, yeah?” His words were hollow, his mind was clearly somewhere far from the room.

           Leah swallowed and stood. Holding her purse close, she went for the door. She paused before reaching for the handle. “Before I go, I just want you to know that I love you. Enough to weather any storm.”

           “Lee…”

           “But if you’re tired of me, then please tell me now. If I’m not worth anything to you anymore, then cut me loose. Because I don’t know how much more I can handle.” Something in her throat stuck but she did everything she could to keep from crying.    

           Tommy reached out to take her hand. “Things right now will get better. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you. I’m doing everything I can to keep this family together.” His eyes were firm on her. “I love you, we’ll talk when I come home.”

           There was a knock on the door and Leah decided to take her leave. Her hand slipped from his and she opened the door.

           “Oh, pardon me.” The man waiting for Tommy apologized. “Mr. Shelby, a delegate from the European Council for Trade is here. He’s here to talk about the import of car parts.” He explained.

           Leah passed through the doorway and went to leave. As she did, she noticed a dark-haired stranger lingering around the second floor. His eyes met hers and a smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He was well dressed and Leah noticed the cross tattoo peeking out from his crisp collar.

           She didn’t know who he was, but he gave her a bad feeling. If only she knew it was the man trying to kill them all.

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997

Tag list: @shelbyblinded

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[kimetsu-no-cuties]

Getsurei: Prolouge

Chihiro grunted as her mama dropped her down onto her futon, her wide and curious eyes watching her movements as she paced around the room. She hastily grabbed different items and stuffed them into a bag. Her confusion shifted to slight fear as she watched her mama grow increasingly more frustrated with trying to shove something else in the bag. Mama let out an inhuman growl when she could no longer force anything inside it, slamming her hands down in defeat.

“Mama, what’s going on?” She questioned, this wasn’t normal.

Mama paused to compose herself, then turned around a sad smile gracing her delicate features. Quietly, she moved to her, settling on her knees with a sigh. Hesitantly she brought her hands up to rest on Chihiro’s face, smoothing over the rough, scaly patches on her cheeks with the pad of her thumb. She took a deep breath, shaking her head at her daughter.

“Oh, Hiro… mama has to leave…” she whispered sadly.

Chihiro shook her head confused, eyebrows furrowing angrily.

“Is it because of those mean people in the village?” She said agitatedly.

Her mama simply shook her head with a little smile, hushing her as she brought her to lie against her chest. One hand ran through her hair while the other ran up and down across her spine, soothing her.

“No, no, it’s not just because of that… Mama has to go to keep you and Papa safe, okay?”

“We’re safest with you,” she shouted in protest, not able to grasp the situation at all.

“Hush, Hiro... “

Chihiro glared at the tatami on the floor quietly, thinking about the circumstance she was under. She didn’t understand why it had to be her mama; why not one of the mean village kid’s mamas? Was this Kami-Sama's way of punishing her for being different?

“It’s not fair,” she finally spoke up with a shaky voice, “why do you have to go?”

Her mother sighed, pulling away to look into her eyes “Mama doesn’t want to go, but life isn’t fair, Chihiro…”

Chihiro looked up at her, those vibrant green eyes that reflected her own filled with pain and sadness. The look was foreign on her Mama’s face -- it was wrong. It made Chihiro’s well up with tears, but she refused to cry, she had to be strong like her Mama.

“Tatsu,” she whispered the nickname, grabbing her attention, “do you know why that’s your nickname?”

Chihiro shook her head, “Uh, because I look like a dragon?”

“Not quite…” Mama chuckled, “it’s because you are strong, much like a dragon, you’ve got tough skin,” she placed her hands on her scale-like markings on her cheeks, rubbing her thumb over them, “well... more like scales, but you’re strong. You’ll be okay without me, you’ve got Papa, Jiji, Baba... even Mizuki to help you.”

She paused, thinking something over before moving her hands to the necklace around her neck. Chihiro had never seen her without it since she had been able to remember. She lifted it off from around her neck, holding it out so Chihiro could admire it closer, the dim lighting of the room glinting off its rough surface.

“Mama…?” Chihiro said quietly.

“This is my family heirloom, my Mama gave it to me and her Mama gave it to her, and so on,” she explained.

“That’s a lot of mamas,” she giggled.

Mama smiled affectionately down at her, “It is… now, I’ve been waiting for a while to give this to you, but I think now would be a perfect time…”

She lifted and placed it carefully around her neck, adjusting it until the moon was perfectly on display.

“When you look at it, know that Mamas there… I’m protecting you, always.”

Chihiro nodded absently, her curious little hands grabbing the necklace - messing up the careful handiwork of her mama as she observed it closely.

The moon was heavy in her hands, very old and scratched up, but still, each little gem in it was beautiful and intact. She wondered how old it was, probably way older than she was. It might’ve been more than thirty years old, that would be very old.

Mama watched her, biting her lip, her sharp teeth drawing a little droplet of blood which she quickly wiped away. She jumped slightly when Chihiro’s sharp eyes suddenly turned to hers - the eyes she got from Mama - the crisp blue-green shocking to see on a human child, especially with such an intense look on her face.

“Don’t forget about me…” she whispered, voice too serious for an eight-year-old.

Her mama stared down at her face, a look Chihiro couldn’t make out - maybe of shock and confusion mixed with sadness. She didn’t have much time to think about it, as she was pulled into a tight embrace where her mother hid her face in her shoulder sobbing quietly. Chihiro didn’t cry - she had to be strong for Mama.

For some reason, she felt like she would see her mama yet again.

A throat clearing pulled her mother apart from her, the kind face of her Papa peeking into the room. His face held the same grief her mothers did, but it seemed he wouldn’t cry - at least not in front of the family.

“You have to leave now if you want to be safe, Ayumu,” he whispered as he approached.

He placed a gentle hand on Chihiro’s head and pulled her into his side, away from her mother. Chihiro curled into him, holding onto his Haori tightly as she watched her mother collect her overstuffed bag. She began to walk away, posture slumped unlike her usual proud and regal appearance, but she stopped to look back at them once more as she stepped outside.

“Hurry,” her father urged, “you’ll be hurt if you don’t.”

She scrunched up her face slightly, angry and sad, but she nodded and turned away - not before saying one last thing.

“Be strong,” she whispered.

Chihiro smiled up at her Papa, who pressed her closer to him with a sigh. Both of them watched as she walked away until her father could no longer see her, though, Chihiro watched her retreat just a bit further before pulling away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“‘Tsushi, Baba, Oba,” Chihiro called out excitedly.

She stumbled her way through the doorway, tripping over her feet a few times before finally landing face-first on the tatami. She groaned loudly, lifting her head slightly and rubbing at her face. She needed to be more careful when she was excited.

A hand reached out in front of her, around the same size as hers, and with that obnoxious laugh, she knew that it was Atsushi offering to help her. He flexed his hand again as if he thought she didn’t see it or something - though she knew he was just trying to get under her skin.

With a little huff she pushed herself up onto her feet, straightening out her kimono as best she could - she still had to look presentable for Baba’s sake. Atsushi chuckled at her, watching as she tried desperately to straighten herself out.

“Need some help,” he asked smugly - he was only two years older than her, but he treated her like a helpless child.

“No, Atsushi, I'm doing great… Besides I highly doubt you could be much help,” she sassed back with a roll of her eyes.

He held his hands up defensively taking a step back, “Okay, okay, I get it, you’re a big girl now. You don’t need big bro ‘Tsushi looking after you anymore.”

She growled at him, though she couldn’t stop the affectionate smile that grew on her face. He was like a brother to her, and despite how annoying he could be she loved him.

“Shut up, Atsushi.”

“Make me.”

“Alright, you two, quit your bickering. It’s already hard enough to live with Atsushi as it is, I don’t need both of you giving me headaches,” her Jiji’s annoyed voice sounded behind her.

She smiled widely, turning to face him with a wild grin just as he opened his arms for her.

“Jiji,” she squealed, throwing herself at him at full speed, both of them stumbling back a little from her force. She heard Atsushi groan a little at the sight -- good, maybe he’ll learn not to bother her.

“Kami-Sama, Tatsu, you’ve not only grown bigger, but you’ve gotten stronger too,” he groaned out humorously.

“Try not to be so rough Hiro, your Jiji is old,” her papa said tiredly behind them, he was always tired.

“Masahao I’d watch that mouth of yours unless you want to be sleeping outside tonight,” Jiji shot back with a little laugh, “besides she’s fine, nothing wrong with my little Tatsu showing off her strength!”

She smiled widely up at him, basking in the praise she was given from her second favorite person in the world - second only to her dear old Baba.

“Yeah, besides Papa, I don’t think I could ever possibly hurt Jiji, he trained in that army place right?” Her father rubbed her head gently, adjusting the strap of their travel bags with the other.

“Just be careful, and don’t hurt anyone too badly okay?”

“Okay, Papa, I’ll be careful,” she assured.

She watched him pass by and walk into the other room, the sudden commotion from the two other women in the house exploding from it as he walked in. She smiled at the noise, happy to be back where she was happiest. Jiji smiled back down at her, rubbing her head affectionately before pulling away to acknowledge her sister who made an appearance at the front door.

“Mizuki, nice to see you again kid,” he said with a small smile.

She nodded, quietly moving onwards past everyone without a word in her usual fashion. Chihiro didn’t like that about Mizuki - well she didn’t really like anything about Mizuki, but her silent disrespect made her angriest - especially when it was toward Jiji.

“I wish she wasn’t like that,” Chihiro grumbled.

“Yeah, not only is it mean, but it’s just annoying,” Atsushi chimed in with his thoughts after his long silence, “not to mention when she does speak it’s mean; it’s like she thinks she’s better than us.”

Jiji sighed, looking between the two kids then at the door conflicted. Chihiro knew he wanted to deny their claims against her sister, but it was hard to do so when he too knew it was the truth. They all knew it was the truth.

He shook his head and shoved Chihiro forward toward the family room, “Come on, let's stop picking on Mizuki and go say hi to your Oba and Baba.”

With a nod, she pulled away and followed after Atsushi, who was already excitedly prancing away. When they reached the room where the rest of the family was she smiled, quietly watching their interactions at the entryway for a moment. Oba was fussing over Papa’s appearance, while Baba quietly spoke with Mizuki.

Her Jiji cleared his throat in annoyance from behind her, drawing all eyes to him “Mikasa leave him alone, he’s not a child, he can fix his own hair.”

Oba pulled her hands away from Papa’s head, a nervous smile on her face as Jiji approached. Chihiro watched the interaction with a smile, happy to see her family acting as they normally did. Every interaction was so casual and comfortable, as it was meant to be.

She stared quietly for a few seconds more, giggling at Jiji smacking Papa upside the head for a smart comment he made - yes things were as they were supposed to be.

“Chihiro,” a quiet shaky voice called, her head turning to attention immediately, “come here, let Baba see you, Tatsu.”

Chihiro smiled and made her way over, pretending not to notice the annoyed look her sister gave her as she walked away. She pulled her arms around Baba’s frail body. Every time she held her it felt as though she somehow got smaller since she last did so - or maybe Chihiro just got bigger.

She gave her a gentle squeeze; not too strong, but not weak enough to make her Baba notice. She had to make a perfect balance to not hurt her physically, but still not weak enough that Baba would notice she was holding back. Baba was never one who liked being underestimated, then again neither was Chihiro.

“My, Tatsu, you’re so strong now,” she said with a laugh pulling away a bit, Chihiro didn’t mention she was hardly using any of her strength.

She placed her hands onto her cheeks, jerking her head around to observe her closely. Chihiro grumbled at the jerky movements but did nothing else as to avoid being reprimanded. For such a frail woman, she was scarier than Jiji when she was angry.

She rubbed at her cheeks, the roughness of her “scales” - as her family called them - setting her at ease somehow. Her Baba chuckled at her, she must’ve been wearing a weird face so she laughed along with her. When the laughter died down, Baba’s face faded to a sad smile.

Chihiro knew what she was thinking, everyone always thought the same thing, but she still had to ask, “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, it’s nothing, you just…. look so much more like your Mama every time I see you,” she sighed, “you’re so beautiful… your father is going to have to fight off all the boys in your village.”

Chihiro groaned overdramatically, pulling away from her hands, “Baba quit! You know I’m not interested in boys!”

Baba just smiled knowingly at her, ruffling her hair slightly, “I used to think like that too before I met your Jiji.”

“Ew, Baba, that’s gross,” Chihiro whined, pretending to throw up.

“It’s always gross until you fall in love yourself, Tatsu,” she continued to tease, a smirk on her face that made Chihiro frustrated, “you’ll find someone who you love someday, and then you’ll understand what I mean.”

She groaned once again, both because she was disgusted and she felt a heavyweight on her back -- one that could only be her cousin. She shoved him off her, turning and immediately throwing a fist at his face. He barely dodged it and stumbled back a few times before his back met the ground. Chihiro smirked, ready to jump on top of him, but was stopped by her Baba’s angry voice.

“Chihiro, Atsushi, knock it off this instance,” she yelled angrily, grabbing the attention of the four others in the room.

“Baba, we were just gonna mess around a bit, honest,” Atsushi whined pathetically.

“Yeah, Baba, we were just going to roughhouse a bit that’s all, we’ve done it since we were little,” she defended - also not wanting to get in trouble.

“You two aren’t five anymore, you’re a young boy and lady it’s not appropriate for you to do things like that,” she scolded.

Chihiro was about to retort, not understanding why it was wrong to have a little fun with her cousin -- they used to do this all the time just a year ago -- when her Oba stepped in.

“Now now, Kaa-san, let the kids have a little fun they won’t be this youthful for that much longer, you know,” she said, gently helping Atsushi onto her feet and smoothing out his hair.

“They need to learn to act like proper civilized men and women as soon as possible, it isn’t right to have them roughing around with each other,” Baba retorted, to which her Oba merely hushed her.

She turned her gaze away from Baba and to the two children next to her - Atsushi her son, and Chihiro her niece. Chihiro watched her carefully, Oba’s eyes widening a little when they met her bright ones, gaze softening slightly after a moment. Out of everyone in the family, Oba was the one person who she couldn’t seem to read like the others.

As if Oba knew what she was thinking, she gave her a subtle wink - something that she always did when Chihiro stared at her so attentively.

“Now, why don’t you kids go out with Masahao and Jiji to get something sweet for later tonight… Baba and I will cook dinner in the meantime,” she turned behind her to Mizuki, “that includes you Mizu, have a little fun, okay?”

Atsushi immediately started shoving Chihiro out of the room excitedly, chanting ‘free treats’. Oba must not let him have sweets often, she could see why. Though Chihiro was excited as well, she didn’t miss her sister watching the both of them with annoyance as she followed them out - nor did she miss the side glance she gave Oba.

“Alright, Atsushi, shut your mouth,” Jiji snapped, pulling Chihiro out of her daze.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The group had been out much later than she thought they would be initially, the sun beginning to set over the horizon. She couldn’t complain, she never really got to go out due to her skin condition, so being out in the village -- albeit small in size -- was more than she could ask for. She even met a kind boy around her age who was selling coal, she didn’t catch his name, but she recalled finding him cute. She also met the girl Atsushi always gushed about when they visited, and she decided she was way too good for her cousin.

It was fun; the most fun she’d had in her entire life. Still, she had to go back home at some point, and that’s what she was doing. Holding onto the bag of sweets she and Atsushi picked out, resisting the urge to devour everything inside it by staring straight ahead and trying not to think of it.

She focused carefully at the distant scenery until her Oba’s home came into view, which caused her to pause. It was wrong. The door to her Oba’s home was completely torn apart, thrown away from where it was and in pieces on the ground. Inside she could just hardly see some broken pots and things strewn about - like there might have been a struggle. She could tell just from that alone there was something wrong - something had happened.

The adults didn’t seem to notice it, or maybe they couldn’t see it yet, she always had impeccable vision compared to everyone else she knew. Other than her Mama of course, but that wasn’t something she should be concerned with now. She needed to make the adults aware of the situation.

“Papa,” she said, tugging on his pants to get his full attention.

“Yes, Hiro,” he looked down at her, an affectionate smile on his face - the happiest she’d seen him in a while.

How she hoped that she was wrong, just this once, for Papa.

“I think something happened...”

He stared at her for a long moment, then looked up at the house, his face twisting in confusion. He must’ve just noticed the open door. He pulled her a little closer to his body, which did little to soothe her worries, but she appreciated it.

“I wonder,” he said quietly, “how about we get Jiji to go ahead and see what happened, and I’ll take the three of you somewhere else while he checks - would that make you feel a bit better?”

She nodded, gripping his shirt tightly. The last time he held her like this was when Mama left. She hoped she would see Baba and Oba again.

“Tou-san, would you go ahead and check up on the house please, Hiro’s a little worried.”

Jiji paused and looked back at them, about to come up with a retort, but snapped his mouth shut when his eyes met with Chihiro’s. He sucked in a quick breath before he nodded and turned away leaving the four of them behind as he hurried to the house.

Mizuki and Atushi turned back to look at the two of them, confused and a bit shaken at Jiji’s reaction.

“Obon, what’s going on…” Atsushi worried.

Papa shook his head, ruffling Atsushi’s hair with a smile, “Don’t worry about it, I’m sure it’s nothing… now… who wants to go back to town and get some more sweets?”

“Won’t Kaa-san be mad,” Atsushi asked, eyes wide but hopeful.

“It’ll be our little secret,” Papa said, placing a finger against his lips, ushering him away quickly.

He looked back when neither Chihiro or her sister moved, but Mizuki merely waved him off -- seems she wanted to talk.

They stood next to each other quietly for a few moments, the tension thick in the air. They were never alone together, not even at home, they always avoided each other as much as possible. Now she couldn’t avoid her sister, and she knew Mizuki knew that too.

Chihiro nearly spoke, but Mizuki beat her to it, “We both know something bad happened, something really bad.”

She nodded, “Y-you think someone was mad at Jiji or something?”

“I think it was demons,” Mizuki said blankly, not a drop of humor or emotion in her voice.

Chihiro stared up at her, trying to discern if that was a joke or not. Demons weren’t real, they were just part of scary stories her family used to scare them away from misbehaving. If that was so, why was her sister saying that? It couldn’t be a joke, she never joked about anything, especially not with Chiro. So what was she talking about?

“Don’t overthink it, it makes your head hurt…” she looked up to the house, “you should probably go check up on them, I know you want to.”

What? Was Mizuki being… considerate?

“Don’t think this means I like you, I don’t, I just know what’s best for my family,” she said quietly.

The confirmation of her hatred kind of stung, but Chihiro didn’t have time to think about that too much. She turned on her heel and ran as fast as she could, kicking up dirt and rocks with each step until she finally made it to the house - faster than she thought she ever could. Her feet stumbled over the tatami, slamming into the wall roughly before she could catch her balance.

“Jiji, Baba, Oba,” she called out, voice strained with worry.

No reply, just silence. She called out again, this time a bit louder and a bit more desperate. Her eyes took the time to scan the area carefully while she waited tensely, noting the broken vases and furniture. Signs of a struggle, but nothing more than signs.

She sniffed, the air was thick with the smell of iron and ash that nearly suffocated her. The smell, combined with the tenseness of waiting silently for something that maybe never come, made her nauseous. She was sure she would’ve fallen over dead had she not heard the smallest noises - just the gentle shifting of clothes, something easily missed if she was not listening for it.

She stood silently for another few moments, waiting for another noise - another indication of life. After getting nothing once again, she let out a silent huff, deciding to just find out who was in here; to find out what happened to her family.

She wishes she hadn’t.

Stepping into the family room, the stench of blood and ash was stronger -- more suffocating than before. It made her dizzy enough to feel her head spin, to make her close her eyes for a moment to recover. When she opened them she finally noticed the ruin the room was in. The walls, the floors, the ceiling all cut and broken; torn and smashed apart by an inhuman force; in shambles. Then she looked straight ahead, and nausea returned in full force like a kick to her gut.

There, sitting in front of her, Jiji was cradling a body -- Baba’s body. Oba’s lied near the entrance to the kitchen, her guts torn out and exposed for Chihiro to see. She couldn’t see the state of Baba’s, but she could easily assume it was no better. Next to all of this, glinting dangerously in the afternoon light, a sword of some sort.

Her body shook violently, face paling as she took in everything in front of her. Her family -- her life all dead in front of her. Taken by the man who she trusted with her life -- she didn’t want to believe it, but the evidence was clear, even if she knew that it didn’t fully make logical sense. She was going to die, she was going to die in his hands. Her Jiji was going to kill her.

A sob ripped through her body, at the realization, loud and clear in the silent room. She froze, she hadn’t meant to be so loud. She might’ve been able to get away safely had she stayed silent, but the sound snapped Jiji out of whatever trance he was in, his head whipping around to face her and his hand grabbing onto the sword. His eyes were wild and lit up with an emotion she’d never seen on his face before.

He looked crazed with anger.

She stumbled back, tripping over her feet and falling hard onto her back. She wasn’t ready to die, she didn’t want to die, she reminded herself as she forced her feet to keep pushing back away from him. She moved until she hit the destroyed wall, squeezing up into herself until it was painful.

Her mind at war, the clear evidence that he had killed her not matching up with the already destroyed home she saw earlier. He couldn’t have done this when he was with her, she tried to rationalize, but her body still kept moving back from him.

She kicked at his hands when they touched her, screaming at him to stop. Though she wanted to believe he wouldn’t hurt her, and it was all some misunderstanding. She wondered if this fear was what Baba and Oba felt -- overwhelmed and scared knowing the inevitability of death by their beloved’s hands was coming. She sucked in a breath, still pushing and screaming even as his arms wrapped around her tightly.

“Tatsu,” his stern voice called, but she just screamed; she refused to listen.

“Tatsu,” again, “Tatsu calm down, you’re fine.”

She screamed again, punching and pushing as hard as she could against him. She couldn’t go without a fight.

“Chihiro,” he said sternly, making her freeze in her actions on impulse -- her mind almost trained to stop at his tone.

“I’m not going to hurt you, now calm down you’ll suffocate if you don’t,” he eased, pulling her into his lap as she finally relaxed.

He held her like that for longer than she knew, she wondered if Papa noticed she was gone. If ‘Tsushi was worried about her… maybe they were coming back for her right now. Who knew? Her sobs died down into little sniffles and she allowed herself to relax fully into his arms, knowing full well she would never be able to escape him anyway.

“Jiji,” she mustered, “w-what… what happened to…?”

She wasn’t sure that she wanted to know, but she had to ask. She had to get confirmation from his mouth, not just from her eyes.

He pulled her back, face gravely serious as he looked down at her. His gaze bearing into her and making her feel even more uneasy. She was sure this was it, this was where he would kill her -- yet she still found the time to wonder if the rest of her family was enjoying their time in town, or if they were searching for her.

“Tatsu,” he said seriously, gripping her arms tightly, and she said her last prayer, “do you believe in demons?”

“What…?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Prolouge End~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey! Uh yeah I wrote this thing... it’s not good... it’s actually bad so. Anyway, I’ve worked for several months on this, and I saw a few people encouraging me to post it... so I did. I guess you can sort of see this as a trial run for the fic. Anyway I hope it was good, cause it’s 4K+ words and by far the longest thing I’ve ever written and I worked really hard on it... hahaha...

[journeysintowebcomics]

Homestuck Liveblog #183

UPDATE 183: Narrative Takeover

Last time everything went wrong for so many characters. John’s fight with Caliborn went awry, Jane’s plan to seduce Jake didn’t work because he kept thinking of Dirk, and Dave and Karkaroni’s political strategy meeting got derailed by Jade deciding it was a good time for romantic overtures. So now let’s continue.

So, now that they have been dumped in middle of the chaos that’s destroying all the known existence and reality, John checks the situation. Lord English is up there, in front of the black hole, seemingly impervious to its strong absorbing effect.

Unlike his younger form, his eyes aren’t flickering wildly. They’re locked in place, an eight ball in each socket.

If I remember correctly from the booklet about pool I read like six years ago when I started playing pool for fun, the eighth ball is the last one you must sink, so I’d say it indicates it’s endgame. I think it also had happened in Arc 7. Symbolism!

Tavros is over there, leading an army, Vriska is nowhere to be seen and presumably is very dead, and Meenah was supposed to be going away, I think? Anyway, it’s fight time! Everyone already has their weapons at the ready – all the weapons that are supposed to hit Lord English pretty hard – and Rose tries to remind them what exactly their plan is. She barely gets a single word out before she’s dead.

But Rose doesn’t get to finish what she was trying to say. Lord English’s mouth roars open and a wave of energy blasts through your group. Rose is the only one caught in it. She dissolves in slow motion. You can see the outline of her body in shadow. One arm thrown up over her eyes, shoulders pulled up defensively, cape billowing out behind her. She leaves an afterimage of shimmering light in her wake and then dissipates, drifting apart like a handful of salt tossed out to sea. You can almost hear the cosmic clock counting down, tick tock, and a chime to accompany her fate: Heroic.

This fight lasted like three seconds before it all looked grim as heck for John and friends. This is going to wreck everyone’s morale and ruin whatever effective plan they had, as I really doubt Rose was supposed to stand aside and let everybody else act. They’re so doomed.

As if to underscore how screwed they are, Jade tries to use her powers and finds out the black hole up there is where the green sun used to be. It made Lord English vulnerable, but she’s powerless now too. Whooops. Kind of a big oversight. How didn’t John or Future Rose foresee that detail? It’s kind of important!

With that, two of the four are now dead and they haven’t gotten started for real. Dave is trying to cut Lord English with the cueball sword, John is...standing around, I suppose, until he snaps out of it and surrounds Lord English with wind, capturing him until he tries to smash his skull with the hammer. Lord English eats the hammer. I’m...okay, I didn’t see that coming. I appreciate the move a lot. John can’t do much else because his glasses are broken, so he can’t see well at all. Good thing Meenah is around now! What a lifesaver!

Time to assess the situation and check how badly things have turned in...like a minute or so. As I always say: a minute is quite a long time in a fight!

Ghostly Tavros and another one of John’s hammers join the list of casualties, Meenah deciding to go in for the kill. Not unless you turn into Dave, gal! Not that Dave is faring much better, he’s trying to harm Lord English but he’s way too fast, even for Dave, who is no slouch in the agility department. That’s incredibly quick, and he’s not fueled by the green sun right now. Everything is awful for the heroes here!

Meenah is launched away and I can only guess she’s dead, because in this scenario being thrown away is kind of fatal due to the huge black hole up there. Dave is under Lord English’s foot, John barely saves him by throwing more hammer at Lord English for him to eat, and tries to set up a hammer barrier to prepare that silly thing he made with the legendary Zillyhoo and Vriska’s dice. If they need a lucky hit they sure need it now!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < waaaaaaaaaaaait

...oooooooh no. I had completely forgotten this existed. Hey, what’s new? Will you be able to defeat Lord English? At least Dave is reacting with horror, which is the right reaction when you see a copy of yourself that was merged with a cat. Davepetasprite is being inspirational, trying to psyche up Dave, and it works!

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < i know it looks pawful right now but we can do it

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < in fact were literally the only ones who can do it

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < after all

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < it is our destiny B33

You also are the last three people left here, so I don’t think it’s much about destiny at this point.

Somehow, between the three of them they manage to do real damage on this monster. John’s hitting him with hammers even if Lord English keeps eating them, Dave slashes and actually gets blood, and Davepeta scratches with the claws. The cycle continues, Lord English almost eats John’s favorite hammer, just that this time he almost gets John himself. Well then. This story is truly something.

Apparently John got injured with Lord English’s teeth or something, because he’s bleeding heavily. I swear, if John dies because he got bitten by Lord English I’m going to be astonished, because that was never a cause of death I imagine would ever happen.

You lift your chin and see it: Lord English’s gold tooth cracked off at the base and embedded in your chest. It must be stuck between two of your ribs, you think, because it hurts like a bitch when you try to breathe.

Oof, you’re in big trouble! When you have something embedded into you you really shouldn’t take it out unless you’re in a professional’s hands, so it’s pretty likely John will have that tooth embedded into him for quite a while. Dave isn’t doing too badly, managing to stab Lord English with the cueball sword up the hilt, unfortunately leaving him vulnerable to Lord English’s maw. Oh god, he has tasted human blood, everyone run! Too late for Dave, though, he gets his head bitten off.

Won’t lie, that’s pretty brutal as far as deaths go. Damn!

Obviously this enrages Davepeta, who grabs Lord English and flies up to the black hole, dragging him along. That was an option? Maybe it’d have been great to have done that much earlier, before Dave died. Really would have been nice.

The black hole—the gaping, implacable, cosmic embodiment of the dead cherub, his long-departed sister—finally welcomes Lord English home.

English and Davepeta are sucked in with a subatomic whimper. The reunion sends shock waves across the pitiful remains of Paradox Space. And then everything is wholly, utterly, and categorically silent. It’s over. Lord English is dead.

Ding dong, the witch is dead. Somehow it’s done! Excellent! Now, here comes opinions about this whole sequence.

To be perfectly honest, this left a lot to be desired. The least of my complaints is the length – for a climactic fight it’s a little bit short. Which isn’t really a problem here, given this isn’t Homestuck anymore, it’s the epilogue. The fight not getting focus is fine and dandy, honestly. I’m actually surprised we got a fight at all.

What I will complain about, though, is that for something that pretty much only Davepeta got to do something worthwhile. It feels like pretty much everyone else who intervened, both alive and dead, were there just to die. It’s pretty disappointing, really. I think I’d have been okay with that if they at least had managed to do something before dying.

Curiously enough, if this had been incorporated into the story, characters dying so fast would have been less bad. I’d say this being part of epilogues is what makes this be treated differently to how it’d be otherwise. But yeah, Lord English is dead, and there’s plenty of epilogue left. I suppose that means the political stuff is what’ll fill the rest of the epilogue in this route, no?

You collapse against whatever is passing for the floor at this moment of utterly null corporeal conditions surrounding you. It doesn’t feel possible. You’re not sure you can even trust your perception well enough to believe it. But it seems to be over. You’ve convinced yourself of this truth well enough to allow yourself to exhale. Enough to allow yourself to suddenly acknowledge the agony coursing through your body, emanating from the gold tooth lodged in your chest. Enough to allow yourself to succumb to the overwhelming urge to sleep.

He’s so dead. And so, all the Wonderkids are dead, total party kill. They tried and they succeeded, mostly thanks to a timely intervention by what turned out to be the best sprite just for killing Lord English, and now they’re all dead. I’m pretty sure by now this makes Homestuck qualify as a Greek tragedy.

Ah, there’s the conversation Rose and Dirk are going to have. She starts by talking about that novel she wrote in her diaries, the ones about wizards. She feels the story as written by the adult Rose Dirk knew from his original world didn’t have as much passion as she did when she wrote the original draft in her journals. Maybe! When you write something for a widespread public, you have to kill a liiiiittle of your own passion to tailor it for a wider audience. It’s a cynical thought, I admit, but I believe I’m right.

ROSE: Anyway, my point is that I’ve long suspected my story was a pre-manifestation of my Seer of Light powers. I was seeing beyond my universe into another.

Doesn’t sound farfetched to me, I must say. It’s possible that, from her early ages, she was unconsciously starting to tap onto the many powers and abilities that come with her title and role. I mean, Mom Lalonde was there, and I believe in her own way she’d help pave the way for the kids to achieve what was needed to triumph. She may have done something, inadvertently or not, that led to Rose writing her novel in a fit of inspiration. Who knows. Certainly not me, and it’s such a minuscule point in the vast net of Homestuck I doubt it’ll be ever touched.

I hadn’t noticed until now that in the end a total of twelve players had crossed the door into the new universe. Fun number for that. Also, Terezi’s name is among them, so she did get to the new universe after all. What happened to her?

All these numbers may or may not have significance. Hah! Well it depends on what kind of author writes the story. Given it’s Hussie, well, I’m inclined towards thinking there’s some significance. Whether the reader will find out about it is an entirely different manner, of course.

Of course Dirk has given his current situation a lot of thought, he even has theories about what’s it. I’m listening, pal, enlighten me about this new plotline.  

DIRK: I mean, some of us have stopped using our powers completely. Not a whole lot of need for emergency resurrections or complex timeline manipulation on a planet that’s never had a conflict more serious than a sportsball riot or a rumpled hat shortage.

DIRK: But even aside from how often they’re used...

DIRK: Some powers don’t lend themselves to the infinite expansion of one’s mind, the way ours do.

ROSE: I see.

ROSE: So what you’re saying is, it’s more a matter of one’s aspect than it is whether one’s powers are practiced further, or allowed to atrophy.

DIRK: Yep.

So it all depends on the power. It’s not like everyone’s going to start suffering this too, it seems to be limited to what aspect it is. Perhaps Jade and Dave would go through this too? Other than them, I’m not sure anyone else would.

ROSE: In that case, perhaps Terezi had the right idea.

ROSE: Getting away from this place, I mean.

ROSE: Maybe I was a fool for imagining I could settle down here.

Ah, so that’s what happened to Terezi. She left. Maybe she had a feeling things wouldn’t go well, it does make sense she’d be feeling the awfulness Dirk and Rose feel right now. With her Mind aspect, it does make sense she would. Where’d she go, though? Is she a nomad around the world or something?

Dirk’s taking this easier than most would because he’s used to multitasking. Ah, right, he did have his dreamself and his realself, dealing with both must have given him some practice. Still, two is nowhere close to the infinity of everything, so I’m skeptic it’s as good of a training as he says it was.

ROSE: I’m caught in the liminal space between reality and reverie, where people once believed demons dwelled. But the only reason the demon is still sitting on my chest is because I refuse to banish it. All it would take is looking directly at it.

ROSE: I’m forcing myself to stumble through my life as a sleepwalker. All this pain and sorrow could go away if I would just allow myself to wake up.

DIRK: Then why don’t you?

ROSE: Because I’m not sure that the person opening her eyes will be me.

Brings to mind that about us being someone’s dream and, when that someone wakes up, it’s all over. It’s the kind of thing that brings existential crisis when you think about it too hard, isn’t it? So, if Rose here’s experiencing something similar, she’s not going to have a good time because she’s the kind of person who thinks a lot. Nobody should be jealous of these two, that’s awful.

Dirk, in what’s unusually close to sympathy, crouches and takes off his sunglasses, looking straight at Rose’s eyes. He admits he’s a very flawed person and shouldn’t be always right, and that he knows all about his own flaws.

Rose’s eyes have grown distant, almost mirrorlike. Dirk can see himself reflected in her vacant stare.

ROSE: All the pieces in their place.

ROSE: The mechanisms all running smoothly.

She says this in a hollow tone. It’s the disarming voice a puppeteer ventriloquizes for a marionette.

...okaaaay, something happened. If I’m understanding this and the next few sentences correctly, Dirk pretty much took over Rose. I don’t know why, he just did. Althoooough...hm. It’s still early. Maybe the reasons will be revealed later. But hey, you can’t say this was predicted! Also, if I had to guess, the moment Rose was taken over was when he took off his sunglasses. It just makes sense, really.

Whyyyy is the text turning orange. Dirk, are you taking over the narration?

Yup, he did, and he’s addressing the reader. He sounds pretty bitter there are readers, and brags about he can make the reader’s perspective change and turn into a character’s perspective. No complaints from me for you doing that, really, be my guest.

But I haven’t revealed myself to you just to boast about the abilities arising from the gradual obliteration of the constraints on my consciousness. I’ve only taken a moment to answer a few questions. Not ones I heard you ask—because again, you are nonspecific and therefore do not matter—but ones I imagined you asking. And by imagining these questions, they became less fake, and as such, demanded similarly non-fake answers. No, in truth, the time has come to make my presence known in order to start bringing my plans to fruition. It’s time to get down to fucking business.

Eh. Sounds to me like Dirk wants to ramble and wants an excuse to do so, even if he has to make that excuse himself. Golly, pal, you have free control of the narrative. Ramble all you want, go ahead.

To continue the narrative, John has to wake up and does so. I suppose he being sleepy and exhausted after the fight was just he being sleepy and exhausted instead of being borderline dead because of blood loss. Dirk forces the narrative to make John apologize to no one for everything that happened in the battle, and it’s all so heavy-handed even John notices something’s going on with his head. Dirk, you’re not doing a very good job at being subtle.

Suddenly you remember: Lord English’s tooth is still embedded in your chest. You panic, wrap your hands around the base, and give it a little tug. It’s excruciating. The tooth makes an awful grating sound as it grinds along one of your ribs. You gasp and lose your grip, biting the inside of your mouth so hard that you taste blood.

Can’t blame you for trying, but I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Without someone to administer proper medical care, you’ll bleed to death pretty much instantly.

Yeah, exactly! Not that there’s anyone to administer proper medical care in the middle of literal nowhere, so he’ll have to transport himself somewhere else before he touches that tooth any further. Where’s John, anyway? Is he still lying around underneath the black hole? Did he zap himself somewhere else?

On the other hand, the tooth is poisoned. So you’re pretty much fucked either way, and that’s really all there is to say on the matter.

Oh. That’s a thing now? Well then, guess you’re screwed, John. Thanks for everything, have a nice death. I suppose it would count as a heroic death because he received that fatal wound fighting someone who was obliterating reality, so being revived isn’t an option, I suppose.

John wanders around for a very long time, depressed and feeling pretty awful, until he sees Dad Egbert’s wallet. It’s a coincidence to find it anywhere in the infinite expanse of reality! John opens the wallet, aaaaand...end page! Quick, make a distraction and go check some other place. It’s the usual Homestuck style, so that’s what happens.

Jade’s explaining Dave and Karkaroni’s political ambitions to Roxy and Calliope, once again using the terms ‘neoliberal austerity measures’. I’m still unsure what that’s supposed to mean, but whatever it is makes Roxy groan, no doubt because she has heard about said measures too much already. They’re bad, and Karkaroni’s underdog populism is the counter to those, she argues. Give him a chance! Unfortunately for Elect-a-Troll 20xx, it doesn’t seem like Calliope and Roxy are very interested in getting involved in this at all.

ROXY: i just dont rly

ROXY: care about politics that much i guess

I suppose this means she’s not going to support Jane either. Hey, better for her to not be interested than for her to be on the opposite side. This is a victory of some sort.

She’s reticent to supporting anyone not only because she’s not interested in politics, but also because it’s a fight between her friends and she sure isn’t eager to going against a friend. She also knows this is something Jane has been planning for a long time, so she’s not into ruining Jane’s plans – even though she won’t really go out and say she supports Jane. I really disagree Jane is fragile, though. She’s anything but fragile.

In the spirit of full disclosure, Roxy’s the only one left I haven’t been able to crack. Her mind remains a total enigma to me, just like it always has. If I had to guess, it’s her Void powers that make her invisible, even to increasingly omniscient parties such as myself. For all intents and purposes, it’s like her thoughts don’t exist. She’s the same person, as far as I can tell. She still wears her heart on her sleeve. But the bottom line remains: Roxy Lalonde is still utterly fucking inscrutable.

Which is a very good thing for her. I wonder if this means Dirk would be unable to do anything with the narration involving Roxy, if she’s invisible for even the increasingly omniscient parties. In that case, she’s the luckiest person in this entire canon. Good thing, too, given how Dirk is a fervent supporter of Jane, so he can’t manipulate her into doing anything.

Roxy’s staying out, but what about Calliope? She doesn’t want any of this either, because it’d be stressful as all hell and that’s a very valid reason to not want to get involved in politics, especially if it’s between competing friends. At least Jade understands well enough and doesn’t insist.

Apparently Roxy asking Jade to call both Calliope and her by ‘them’ throws Dirk off to the point he has to hastily say aloud he doesn’t care and that he’s very okay with this, you guys, it’s totally okay. I don’t know, when this kind of thing is written or said like he did I can only think that person is indeed not okay with it. Dirk really should stop his rambling for once before he shoves his feet deeper into his mouth.

For a person that’s starting to be omniscient and spent an entire page mocking the reader and being vainglorious he sure is pretty concerned with keeping up the appearances.

ROXY: i mean what am i gonna do

ROXY: get married and pop out 100 bbs?

I mean, with ectobiology that’s far easier and simpler than you make it sound. You don’t even have to get married for that.

I choose to believe Dirk has gotten so flustered by the conversation about Roxy and Calliope being non-binary he chose to make Jade be unconscious. He had to stop the conversation somehow, so he made her do astral plane stuff. Smooth, Dirk, smooth as a brick.

I may as well stop here for the time being.

Next update: next time