#of course all of the countries are made up too - the main country is Li

[katarh-mest]

you know, the main reason I think The Apothecary Diaries has a big ol "This is a work of fiction" slapped all over it is because once you start digging into the details the anachronisms don't make sense any other way

[shatcey]

Dark IF (William)

William Harrison

@.archiveikemen made a wonderful translation of the prologue to this event. I recommend reading it in advance so that there are no questions about how we got into this story.

@.kurishiri has compiled an amazing masterlist on this event. I'm doing summaries, so I'm not there. If you prefer to read the full translation, you have that option as well. Not necessarily for this story… This is the main reason why I'm making a summary to fill in the missing parts.

The main part of this event basically coincides with William's main story. I'm not even kidding. The same situations, the same words… At first I was pretty sad about it but… the endings are really good.

Of course, I finished both of them. I liked the bitter ending better. Perhaps, like certain someone (who say the exact opposite), I love drama too much.

After Victor send Kate to the twisted word with parting words "it's in you hands to find the happy ending..." Kate recalled...

Not creapy at all... all things considered...

As soon as Kate appears in the twisted world, she meets Cheshire cat Liam. Who introduced himself quite happily. Suddenly the bell rings. And Liam explained that this meant that someone had been beheaded on the orders of King of Hearts William. And this is a common occurrence in this world.

Kate seemed to ask too many questions about William, and Liam asked if she was interested in him. But no, she just needs to find what's missing. The lying Fox Harrison appeared. And Liam recommends him as an informant.

I'm not in a position to judge, but if someone was presented as a "liar"… why would you trust him? And even more so to buy information from him? Who knows what he's telling you. Well, we all know that we can trust Harry, but this is her first time meeting him. There's no way she could have known about it.

Kate had nothing to pay, so she decided to look for information on her own. Liam told her about William's abilities and advised her to be cautious around him.

She decided that it would be very stupid to meet William without preparation. This guy must be crazy (these are her thoughts, not mine). She resolutely went to the city and… found herself in front of his castle. It's really a destiny.

She looked at the strangely familiar castle (familiar to me, not to her), but decided that she shouldn't go there…

How did he manage to jump so high? Is he magical? Don't tell me it's Benjamin… Wait a minute… Jewel? Victor? Are you playing matchmaker again, you little... rabbit?

And, of course, there were no guards or servants in this castle, so no one stopped her, and she ended up in the dining room with William… There may have been servants there, but they've been turned into furniture or something. Oh, sorry… the wrong fairy tale…

How did he know her name? He… сan't read minds for real this time, can he?

…and we on his main route. Do fun stuff and became free from the morality and expectations of society. And, of course, Kate fell for him very hard. Nothing new.

A sudden thought…. Are we stuck on Groundhog Day by any chance?

She couldn't find what is missing so returned to Harrison. Harry asked her what she would give him for this information.

Harry replied with his canonical "that's not half bad" and told her about William.

It turns out that the people William executes have committed terrible crimes in the past, but cannot be judged by the law. So he chooses the path of destroying "evil with evil". Strangely familiar isn't? And since the bells were ringing at that time, many people were so scared of it that the number of crimes in this country decreased significantly.

And as a bonus, he added that there is Mad Hatter who is plotting something against William. He wants to dethrone William and take his place. Indeed, this guy is crazy.

Kate returns to the castle and asks William to explain himself. So he tells her about why he frees people. He said exactly the same as he said on his route. A selfish observer… something like that. And he asks her what she wants, and… she tell him. And in the morning she wakes up in his bed, remembering last night and blushing. Typical Kate.

But she noticed opened letter and read it…

And here we have two endings. The developers don't give any recommendations, but it seems to me that chronologically the bitter ending comes first. You'll understand what I mean.

Bitter ending

Kate remembered her conversation with Harry and decided that she needed to warn Will about Mad Hatter. But she searched the whole castle and couldn't find him. She thinks he's probably gone to the court, and she has a very bad feeling about it.

She ran out of the castle, just wondering for a moment where exactly the court was, and Liam ran up to her. Explaining that there was a commotion in the court, but he didn't see her and became worried. Kate asked him to show her which way the court was, which he did.

In court, the final verdict is announced by the judge

I'm so glad it's not Vivi. This guy is really crazy.

The guards pulled out their guns and pointed them at William. Wait a minute… Are you going to do it right here? There will be blood everywhere… Oh, you have red carpets, so there's nothing to worry about. Okay, continue.

At the last moment��� Kate jumped out of nowhere and covered Will with her body. I really thought he was going to die this time… But that's impossible when Kate is around.

Right, we need Roger! Roger, where are you? Oh... right... the wrong fairy tale... again

He asks her why she did it, and she replies that she doesn't know, her body moved on its on. She loses consciousness due to blood loss and doesn't hear his words.

I have goosebumps. This is so…

She thinks that she still cannot leave, she has forgotten something… In the black void of nothingness, she finally remembered. Then she was a child and could do whatever she liked, she visited Wonderland and met the king of hearts. They spent several days together, and she did whatever she wanted, and if she was in danger, William protected her. But he said she had to come home. As parting words, he asked her to be honest about her wishes. She asked him what if she became the one who wouldn't do it?

Oh, so this is what she heard at the beginning?...

Kate opens her eyes and find herself in the library. There is no pain or blood on her. She's definitely returned back to the real world. She remembers everything. She promised to protect him when they met again, but she forgot about it. And because of that, she faced such a bad ending. She looks around and thinks that, despite the fact she return to the real world, this place seems bleak. Because her lover is not here…

She thinks that even if she finds herself in Wonderland again, the same ending may await her. But her heart is free, and it screams that she wants to see him again… And this time with determination to find her happy ending… she "jumps" into the book.

Victor and Harrison are in the theater-like place. Harry informs Victor that Kate will be coming back to them soon.

I'm not sure if Vivi said "you", he could say "we" or "me"… I didn't take a screenshot with JP's text.

So… this endless sad circle can only be broken with a happy ending. And for that, she just needs to find what is missing…

Premium ending

Kate read the letter and decided to warn William again, but this time he came up to her with a tray of tea.

Oh, can you make tea? Why am I even surprised, you're the same perfect self.

She asks him about a letter and what he plans to do. Of course he will come, because that's what he has to do to stay true to himself. She reply he could be killed… But he doesn't think that's a big deal. Kate clings to his jacket to keep him from leaving… And we're back to his route…

Kate begged him to cancel the order, not to leave her… But he only smiled and kissed her on the forehead. The door closed and Kate wondering why this William's kiss seemed so familiar to her. And she remembered memories from her childhood. When they parted, she promised to protect him the next time they met, he laughed and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

They must be magical…

So… Remembering everything, she was even more determined to help him, but that she could possibly do… Scream, girl, it always works if you need to attract attention.

But she didn't even have to do that, Liam came in. She's freed from Will's order and can run after him, and the same as it was at the Bitter ending, she asked Liam to show the way.

In court, the judge passes the same sentence, the guards point guns at Will, and Kate jumps in front of him again

Will laughs and asks her why she acted like it was the end. Kate suddenly realized that she didn't feel any pain. She looked at the place where she thought she had been shot.

As I thought… The watch is magical… It catches all the bullets.

Will looked around at the people in court, ordered them to "Not move" and called Harrison over. Harry showed up and explained that Mad Hatter was spreading false rumors about William, but in fact these were his crimes. And members of parliament take bribes to hide them. Criminals!

William said that if it was only Mad Hatter's sincere wish, he would have allowed himself to be killed. But Mad Hatter started destroying other people's lives, and he can't forgive him. So…

And again, it's good that they have red carpets… What am I saying?..

Several days later Kate and William are having a crazy tea party for two in the dining room. Kate asks if he knows what is missing. She hasn't returned home, so she still hasn't found it. He says if she wants to come home, he won't stop her. But she means exactly the opposite. If she had known what was missing, she would never have found it to stay with him forever.

So he has a theory, but...

This kind of won't help… I'll definitely forget what we talked about in an instant…

I didn't buy epilogue, but I probably will… if so, I will write about it later. If there's anything in it besides "hot stuff". And… if there's still a point in it. This event will most likely take place on the EN server in late November or early December.

My thoughts

I really like the way they combine everything together. The clock, the voice she heard, the feeling that she had forgotten something important… It's really amazing. At first, I was really upset that story was repeated. But the developers managed to create a new version based on the old one, and it's really amazing. After a slight change in the key points, everything looks completely different. Will's magic call was presence on the main route, but it was a subtle hint like her deep thoughts. This is the main key here. He called her, he lured her into this world. The first, the second time… maybe millions of times. And she continued to follow his call. It really feels like destiny.

I'm actually really curious… If William's story is so similar with his route, maybe other's stories as well? I haven't read Alfons's story, I was waiting for it to appear on the EN server, so I can't be sure.

I really like the idea of Victor as a god-like character, a kind of storyteller… who knows how the story should be like… and don't stop until it's exactly like that. Or… I have goosebumps… he is destiny itself.

And I'm really interested to know what the role of the Fox is in this world… Why does he remember everything, even if everyone's memories supposed to be reset?

In addition, I want to say that the part in the real world on the bitter ending is written so well that I was tempted to show you the whole scene. But I was stopped by the number of screenshots that I could put in one post. I really like it, it gives me goosebumps, no matter how many times I reread it. And yes, I cried… It's too good…

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

🔝 𝕊𝕋𝔸ℝ𝕋 ℙ𝔸𝔾𝔼 🔝

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

[writers-hes]

All Things End

You always knew Tommy as the cheerful boy who took care of you. He always knew you as the smart girl that he visited by the docks. The daughter of a prostitute, the son of a deadbeat father; a soldier who protected his country; a whore who protected him; a gangster who controlled Brimingham; and now, a wife. War changes people, you just didn’t realize that war could change you both. (angst, depictions of abuse, poverty, prostitution, canon-typical themes, death, war, time jumps, depictions of mental illness, and a toxic marriage)

A/N: This whole fic was inspired by Hozier’s latest releases; Nth/Unknown, All Things End, Francesca, and Eat Your Young. I recommend listening to the album before or after you read this. This dedicated to everyone who reblogged the last chapter. Thank you for the love; it means the world.

PROTECTION SERIES TAGLIST | PROTECTION MASTERLIST navigation | main master lists |

PART ONE: Toy Horses Outside the Brothel

BIRMINGHAM, 1914

You’ve been inconsolable since the Shelby brothers left. Everyone can see how different you were ever since they left. The Shelby’s reached out to you—but you didn’t like going to Watery Lane. You begged Polly to remove the Blinders that were supposed to watch you and she agreed after a while. It wasn’t the same without Tommy protecting you. You didn’t have the strength to face them, to go to their house and pretend like it was all okay. 

“Angel, I’ve missed you,” he sighed into your hair. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course, I do, Simon,” you told him. “How are you? It’s been a while since you last saw me. You don’t like me anymore?”

“You know that I could never forget about you, darling,” he said. “I have a gift for you,” 

“Really?” you asked, eyes hopeful. “What is it?”

Simon smiled, fishing a velvet jewellery box out of his pocket. He opens it and you gasp. A pair of sapphire earrings. 

“I have to start dressing you up when I take you to London,” he says. “You’ll wear it for me?”

“I’ll wear it,” you confirm. You fixed your hair up in a faux bun. “Will you put it on me, Simon?”

“Of course,” he says, doing what you asked. “I’m fixing everything for us,”

“For us?” you asked, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I told you that I’ll show you the world, didn’t I?” he asked, grasping your jaw softly to make you look up at him. “I’m taking you away from this shit hole.”

“We’ll stay in Birmingham?” you asked, voice wavering. Fuck. What do you do now?

“No, we won’t,” he shook his head. “I have a mansion in London waiting for us. Why would I want to live here?”

“But…”

“But what? Are you not thankful that I’m showing the whole world? I thought I was your hero?” he asked, his hand over yours. 

“You are!” you said, inching closer. “You are. But I have friends here,”

“We can visit them,” he says dismissively. “Anytime you want. Or they can visit us, you know? Once you’re mine, you’ll have everything you want on your fingertips,”

“Why are you so nice to me?” you asked. 

“Because you’re my Angel. The most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid eyes on. You make me want to take care of you,” he says. “I love you. You love me too, right?”

“Of course,” you lied. “Of course, I do.”

-

Polly and Ada liked to visit your house every now and then. They said that it makes them forget all about Watery Lane. Over the times you’ve spent here, the house was fully in bloom. You’d buy plants and some fresh flowers to keep in a vase. There was always a pot of water ready to be heated for tea. You hated your job but this freedom, your own house…it sometimes made everything worth it. 

“Shit, love. Your rich bastard must be buttering you up,” Polly says, helping herself on some tea. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you wore those sapphire earrings. You like him?”

“No,” you shook your head. “He has some of his men guard me…I’m afraid that he’ll stop showing if I stop wearing these heavy earrings.”

“Waiting for…”

“It’s hard,” you said. “I don’t go to the brothel anymore. Simon forbade me to work there after he gave me this. He said he’s fixing up things in London.”

“Do you want to leave?” Ada asked, looking at you. 

“No,” you swallowed. “I’m thankful for…for being here. Not having to work anymore and just living comfortably but the price that I’m paying for it…”

You wanted to be there when Tommy comes back. You wanted to be the one to kiss him the first time you see him out of that train. But if you left…if you didn’t wait like you promised, what good would that be on the end of things? You wanted to see how life with Tommy plays out but what would you in the meantime? Where would you go?

“You have to choose what you’re willing to sell, then. You can’t live like this if you won’t string that rich bastard along. You won’t have to leave if you still work at the brothel.” Polly said. “Did you at least…think about it?”

“He said I could visit…or you could visit,” you replied, looking at anywhere but them. “But…but…I want to be here,”

“What if he doesn’t come back? This war…war changes people. Would you really toss your entire life away for a man in the war? I’m supposed to be on Tommy’s side, but I don’t want you missing out on life just because you're waiting for him,” Polly said. She’s always been practical, and she was…right. But you desperately wanted to see him before anything else. Still, Tommy and his brothers might never come back. If you turned down Simon’s proposal, you’ll be the town pariah. You could be wasting a good life away for Tommy Shelby. 

“Pol,” Ada hissed but her aunt only smoked her cigarettes. 

“All things end, darling. Maybe whatever you have with Tommy has run its course,” she exhaled, clouds of smoke entering your lungs, closing in on you. All things end. All things end.

-

LONDON, 1915

“I can’t believe I’m going to be married today,” you whispered. Your voice betrayed you, wavering slightly. “Fuck,”

“Hey, you can still stop the wedding,” Ada replied, stopping the work that she was doing on your veil. It was an expensive one, it cost more than your home in Birmingham. You never let that go, asking Ada to take care of it while you were gone. “We can run away,”

“I’m already here,” you nodded. “I want to…I want to see Tommy.” Your face was crestfallen, heart drumming in your chest because you never imagined your wedding to be like this. You were picking on your nailbeds again, nevermind the lacquer that coloured your nails. You were getting married in the most expensive place in London. Flowers hung from the ceiling; pearls lined your wedding dress. The sapphire earrings hung from your ears like albatrosses. The diamond ring on your finger demanded attention, a big rock on a silver band embedded with smaller diamonds. You never imagined being married like this. You always thought that you’d marry in the countryside, a nice flowy gown that you borrowed, wildflowers, and dancing. Not like this…surrounded by other businessmen, rich families who never gave a shit about you until you married Simon. 

“You’re getting married but you’re unhappy. This should be your day,” Ada said, ensuring that nothing was out of place. “You’re the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen in my life.”

You smiled tightly. You should be thankful—ecstatic. You should be happy. So many girls dreamed of this. A fairytale wedding. The war was getting worse but not for you, not for Simon. In any case, Simon relished in the war, it brought him more money. You hated yourself for marrying him today when Tommy was most probably out there, fighting for his life.

Were you to blame for marrying Simon, though? It’s been a year and Tommy has never sent you a letter. All the letters you’ve sent were never replied to. It saddened you at first because his family would have something to look for, but you were left in the dust. You never brought that matter to light, maybe Tommy didn’t want to talk to you.

It hurts to be forgotten by the person you loved most. The only person who ever truly knew you. It hurt you to realise that for him, you were forgettable, replaceable. It’s like all the years you spent together were nothing. Maybe it was spite mixed with sadness and desperation that made you accept Simon’s proposal last year. Polly was right,—all things end.

Walking to the altar with Johnny to give you away was something else. Simon was kind enough to let the Shelby’s come to the wedding. He provided them with rooms to stay at a hotel. You should have been happy but the dryness in your mouth says otherwise. His family were there, judging you for being a prostitute; judging him for marrying someone so penniless. 

Simon’s smile was genuine, at least. He was waiting for you, a bundle of nerves. When you reach him, he thanks Polly. Taking your hand, he brings you to the ordainer and the wedding starts.

The reception of the wedding was in your new mansion in London. A real estate treasure with a little bit of plush green land. Your husband had a professional come in to decorate the garden—you never knew that a job like that existed. 

“This house is so big!” Finn said, after he ran to you. He was playing with the other kids. “You’d let me visit you?”

“Of course, Finn.” you said, a smile on your face. “But you have to be with Ada or Polly,”

“Okay,” he says, a toothy grin. “Maybe I can bring Tommy too when he comes back.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Maybe…” Tommy. Tommy. Tommy. Would he appear if you called him in front of a mirror thrice? You just wanted to see him.

Simon comes to you and Finn. 

“Hi, Finn,” he greets. “How are you?”

“Hi,” he says sheepishly, hiding behind your gown. “I’m good. Thanks for letting me come,”

“My wife really wanted you guys here and I really needed to see who’s the famous Finn Shelby,” he said. 

“I was telling Y/N about how my brother, Tommy and I can visit sometime,” he said. You visibly tense at the mention of Tommy, Simon notices. You’ve talked about Tommy before. Tommy Shelby…

That night, after consummating your marriage, Simon asked. 

“Who’s Tommy? I know who he is but what did he do?” Caressing your naked back, he pressed again. “Finn was telling me about his brother, and it made you uncomfortable.”

“He’s no one,” you lied, looking up at him through your lashes. “You shouldn’t worry about him,”

“Are you sure? I don’t want you feeling uncomfortable…if he’s making you uncomfortable, I’ll have him dealt with.”

“No!” you cleared your throat. “You don’t have to, Simon. Thank you for caring,” you smiled, kissing his lips softly to forget about Tommy Shelby—the man who broke your heart. 

NEW YORK, 1915

You were staying in one of your husband’s properties in America, a penthouse in New York when he came barging in, throwing you an envelope. He was angry, you could tell that clearly. He never got angry except now. 

“Simon,” you said, smiling up at him.

“Who’s Tommy Shelby?” he asked, demanding you to answer. He knew who Tommy Shelby was. He knew of the Shelbys in Birmingham. But who was he to you? “Don’t even fucking lie to me,”

“What’s wrong…?” 

“Who is he?” he asked, his tone more forceful now. “Don’t tell me that he’s no one! Who is he?”

“He’s a friend. A childhood friend. What is this about?” you asked. “Simon…”

“You told me during our wedding night that he was no one but I had him investigated,” he said. You furrowed your brows. “Guess what? I found out that you grew up together. You were seeing him while I was seeing you. You told me you love me!”

“I do love you,” you lied, trying to soothe his worries. “You don’t have to worry about him, you know? We didn’t see each other like that, Simon,”

“Fuck…I gave you my everything and you hang onto this Tommy Shelby cunt. Like, like…I had to buy your love and you gave it to him,” he said, stalking towards you. “I gave you everything! What could he give? He’s poor and he’s in the war. I’m here. I am!” he roared. 

“Simon—“

“You are to cut off any ties and communications that you have with the Shelbys, understood?” he spat, pointing a finger at you. 

“Simon, they’re my friends! They took care of me,” you pleaded, putting your hands on his waist to appease him but she just shrugs you off. 

“I said ‘Understood’?” he seethed. “I gave the Shelby’s and Johnny a hefty sum of money so you won’t have to think of them ever again but you have to promise to never fucking think of them—of him—of-of your life in Birmingham. Do you understand me?”

“Simon, you—“

“I know where Tommy Shelby is in France. Tunnelling. You’ll know better than to defy me. Trust me, I have my ways of getting him and his brothers killed. I know people. Do you understand me?” he spits.

You couldn’t cry in front of him, so you just gulped, nodding. 

“I understand,” you whispered, a frown set upon your face. Relief washes over your husband and he pulls you closer.

“You know that I only want what’s best for you. What’s best for us,” he whispered. “You’re my little bird. My beautiful flower, I won’t let anyone else have you. Okay? I’m sorry for making you sad but this is for the best. For us and for the family that we’re going to build,” 

“I know, Simon,”

“I love you,” he says but it felt like a threat.

“I love you too,”

-

BIRMINGHAM, 1915

Tommy,

I hope you’re well. We all pray for your safe return home. Have I told you that Y/N got married this year in London? His name is Simon Coventry, I’m sure you know him as ‘Rich Bastard.’

He truly loves her and has taken care of her so well. We’ve been to their mansion in London multiple times. Finn loves to visit because he gets him everything he wants. Did you know that he gifted Finn his own horse for Christmas? Please, don’t worry about her anymore. She’s in safe hands, in a loving marriage, with a husband that could give her the world. 

Pol

(This letter was never sent.)

BIRMINGHAM, 1911

“What do you think will happen to us?” you asked Tommy once. Twenty-one, and you allowed yourself to make bad decisions when it came to him. You were sitting close together in the balcony of your home; it was the morning, and you had the day off because it was your birthday. No serving customers today; Tommy didn’t go to work because you were free. 

“We’ll stay together,” he says, like it was a no-brainer. He had stolen a bottle of whiskey in the place where he worked out and you both decided to drink today. Twenty-one and you’d make all bad decisions for Tommy. There was a crinkle in his eyes when he looked at you. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” you replied, taking a sip of the whiskey.

“I got you something,” he says, tossing his cigarette butt away. “It’s not as…expensive as what that rich bastard got you, but I was thinking that…well, here,” he says, showing you something wrapped in a handkerchief. “Don’t know how to wrap gifts.”

You took it from him and undid the knot of the handkerchief. 

“Tommy…”

“I asked Polly and Ada,” he says. “So, that’s not all me.”

A picture frame of pressed flowers. It was more than that for him. For Tommy, it was a declaration of his love; a life-long commitment to you.

“I’ve been picking flowers that remind me of you for the past year,” he tells you. “Do you like it?”

“I love it, Tom.” you told him, tackling him in a hug. “This is the best thing anyone has ever given me. Thank you so much,”

LONDON, 1916

Simon hardly allowed you to go anywhere without him or at least the presence of a bodyguard since last year. It was understandable, since he was a wealthy man—the world was too dangerous for him. But you couldn’t grasp why you needed his permission to go to the shops, why you needed to ask him if you could do something. Your wardrobe was chosen by him and you hardly had any control over that. The jewellery he bought were things he thought would look the best on you too. 

You had to ask him for approval to meet your friends—if you had any. None of them really stayed longer than a year. It was fine, they were never him anyways. They all had ulterior motives when it came to seeking a friendship with you. They were all parties and dinners and events. One time, there was a party in his house. Some charity gathering that you couldn't care less about. You were outside in the garden when one of your employees walked by. You called him to where you were sitting. 

“Can you please get me some water?” you asked. “I don’t really want to go back there right now,” you said. You spent the whole night portraying the happy wife; the younger wife and you were sick of it. To them, you were Simon Coventry’s wife. To him, you were somebody he owned. To yourself, you were a prostitute. He basically bought you from that brothel anyway. You sat there silently, allowing yourself to shed the tears that you’ve been keeping. 

You were sobbing, trying to comfort your body from the loss of personhood that you’ve experienced. You were a glorified doll for Simon to look at—a pet to protect. He’s never treated you like an equal and you will never be.

Your hands were shaky, makeup staining your face. If only Simon could see you now. He’d lose it. You clutched the locket that Tommy gave you. You told Simon that you needed it, that it was a picture of your mother and that you didn’t want to forget what she looked like. It was shabby; he asked if you wanted a better one, but you declined. When Tommy gave you that locket, he helped you put a picture of your mother right beside his. You still needed to give it back to him. 

In the quietness of the garden, you remembered Polly’s advice before your wedding. She was helping you fit into the gown when she started to talk quietly. 

“Remember, this,” she started, zipping up your dress. “Take advantage of the world you’re in now. Even if you do not love him, take advantage of what he’s willing to give. Take advantage of everything.”

The employee comes back to you with a glass of water. 

“Thanks,” you whispered. “You may go now,”

-

Simon loved your newfound interest in participating in his business. He always sought you in the brothel for advice. It didn’t matter if you never studied, what mattered was that you were correct. They were small matters in his company. Like, you told him that maybe he wanted to increase the bond to a partnership. Or that he had to host charity events to make his company more appealing; ensure that it was widely publicised. 

You were perched on his lap, looking through the documents, while he played with your hair. He was kissing your shoulder as you flipped through the pages. 

“Some of my investments have been transferred to your account,” he says and you look at him, surprised. 

“Simon—?”

“You deserve it,” he says, continuing his kisses on your shoulder. “You’re my wife. You should have your own money,”

“But that’s…that’s too much,” 

“Just enough for you to go on those shopping sprees, if you ever wanted anything,” he says. 

“Why—“

“You’ve proven to me that I could trust you after our…disagreement about Tommy Shelby,” he declared. “I’m sorry for cutting you off from your friends in Birmingham, darling but I promise, that they’re being taken care of. Especially Johnny. He doesn’t work in the brothel anymore after I bought him his house in Watery Lane,”

“It’s okay,” relishing in the newfound power that you had over your husband. You turned to him, your knees on either side of his thighs. You straddled him and grasped his chin with your hands. “I know that you only want what’s best for me, right?” you preened, dropping your lips to nibble on his ear. “Tell me,”

He sighs, clutching your body closer to his as you trailed your lips down his neck. 

“You’re so good to me, baby,” he moans. “So, so good. I’ll give you everything.”

FRANCE, 1917

Tommy had been injured and was sent to the wards immediately. There was a gaping wound on his chest when one of the tunnel rats shot him. His comrades were quick enough to retaliate; to put him above ground and call for help. He was on the hard bed, wondering if it would be easier to just give up and let the world take him. 

“Y/N…” he mumbles, reaching for you. He could see you, see your arms beckoning him to come closer.”Y/N…where…Y/N…” 

He mumbles your name over and over for what seemed like an eternity. He couldn’t say anything else, pleading with anyone.

“Just fucking kill me!” he shouts. “Fucking kill me, please…” he sobs, body shaking from the emotions that dwell inside. “Y/N! Y/N! Fucking kill me!” In…in-in the bleak midwinter…Y/N. Y/N. 

AMERICA, 1917

“How is it being married to Simon?” one of the guests in some event asked. She was supposed to be the wife of a big oil conglomerate. Simon’s father invested in their business awhile back and had been business partners since. 

“He’s kind,” you said. He is…you just can’t love him like that. “It’s amazing being married to him,”

“I see,” she replied. “May I ask where you met again?”

“We met in Birmingham,” was your meek answer, looking for your husband. You hated events like these. The heir and his younger wife. You hated everything about it. Where is he?

“What family are you from?” she asked, oblivious to the fact. Everyone was oblivious to that fact. Simon made sure to never let anyone know that you were a prostitute. ‘For your safety’ he said and you understood. She said that she’ll never forgive you for tainting her wonderful son but Simon said that it was okay. You both didn’t need anyone else. 

“Sorry—do you happen to know where Simon is?” you asked, trying to change the topic. 

“Can’t stay away from him too long, huh? You must really love him,” she gushed. “I hope I’m the same with my husband but our union was basically something that was already agreed upon,”

“Yeah, I do,” you half-lied. You loved Simon as a friend, as a companion. He tries his best to understand. He’s loving and as far as you were aware, hadn’t kept any mistresses. That came with a price, though. Simon never liked it when a man looks at you too long. He doesn’t like seeing you with the opposite sex. He didn’t like you exchanging pleasantries with them. “He’s the best. He allows me to help him out in the business, you know?”

“You’re involved in his business?” she asked. 

“Small things,” you replied. “Arranging charity balls and the like,”

“Your governess must have been a good one,” she replied. 

“I suppose so.” You lied, knowing that you could never have been able to afford one. You were living day to day when you were a kid.

The girl only smiled tightly before walking away. You watched her talk to other girls. How beautiful it is to be included in a group! You’ve always felt like an outsider. This room was filled with billionaires and millionaires. This room made up most of the world’s economy and you were a prostitute. You were in the nicest clothes that money could afford but it still felt like the same, cheap lace that you used to wear. You turned to look for your husband but he was already wrapping his arm around your waist. 

“Simon,” you greeted, kissing his cheek. You were relieved to see him, somehow.

“Hello, darling. Do you wish to meet my friends?” he asked, kissing the side of your head affectionately. 

“Of course,” you nodded, seeing the girl you were talking to with her own husband now. Simon took you to them, never letting your waist go. 

“Simon!” the husband greeted, regarding you with a swift look before shaking your husband’s hand. “Is she the wife or a mistress?” he asked, and you frowned. 

“The wife,” Simon replied honestly. “Don’t have a mistress,” 

“What about that bird you were seeing in…Small Heath? Is it Small Heath?” he asked. 

“Haven’t been there since I got married,” he replied. It was true. “By the way, Eric, I do hope your wife watches what she talks about with her other…friends,” he said, and you tilted your head in confusion. The girl looks down in shame. 

“What do you mean?” Eric asked. “Surely, Natalia only wished to make an acquaintance. Is that right, Nat?”

“Yes, of course. Whatever Y/N was saying must be untrue,” she said, feigning innocence. 

“I see. I must have been delirious when I heard your wife call Y/N boring,” he shrugged. “Anyways, if I see or hear you disrespect my wife one more time, there will be repercussions. Seeing as you’re financially unwell, I would hate to take out my shares in your company. Isn’t that right?” 

“Of course, Simon,” Eric coughed, glaring at Natalia. “I apologise, Mrs. Coventry,”

You could only nod before Simon whisked you away. 

“Let’s go home. No one’s worth talking to in this shit hole anyway,”

-

When you got in the car, Simon was already all over you. He was tugging on your sleeves, kissing your neck. You were used to this; the driver was used to this. 

“Did I ever tell you that you looked absolutely ravishing in this dress?” he growled, fisting the silk fabric. “The things you do to me, pet,”

“I dressed up just for you,” you whimper. “Do you like it?” You may not love him but he was good. Maybe it’s because you’ve known each other for years…or maybe, you’re more comfortable but Simon was good at what he does. He puts your needs first. In any case, that’s how he likes it. This is what you’ve been doing for about two years. Giving everything that Simon ever wanted from you and taking double back from him. You were wealthy on your own now. If you divorced Simon, you’d never have to worry about life anymore. He had put trusts, investments, and properties in your name that he promised he’d never take away. It was sealed in a document. You were his closest kin. You own everything. 

Except your freedom. 

“Of course I do,” he confirms, rutting his hips on your exposed thigh. He groans at the contact. “Fuck, are we close?” he asked the driver. 

“Twenty minutes, sir,” he replied. 

“I’ll triple your salary for the month if you could take us there in ten,” he proposes and the driver speeds up, never minding the laws of the road. 

LONDON, 1918

The war has ended and you were close to collapsing. There could only be two things—the brothers made it or they did not. You didn’t have any form of communication with them and you were nervous. What if they didn’t make it?

BIRMINGHAM, 1918

The boys were deployed in Birmingham. Cramped in vehicles, Tommy held the strap of his satchel tightly. He was anxious to see his family. He was so anxious to see you. He never received letters from you even though he wrote every week. He was too afraid that he'd turn his back on his country to come to you but he didn’t care. What kind of man would that make of him? 

There were a million things that he wanted to tell you—how he left without ever telling you that he loved you. How your face was the only thing that kept him alive in those tunnels. Would you still love him now that he’s not the same? Would you still soothe him until he falls asleep?

His brothers could see his nervousness. So, Arthur offered him a tight smile. John was looking forward to seeing his kids again. 

“She’ll be there, Tom,” Arthur offered. “If anyone’s going to be there, it’s her,”

“Yeah, of course,” Tommy replied. They were nearing Birmingham. They were nearing the place you both grew up in and he felt bad because he should have been thinking about his family but instead, he was thinking about you. The vehicle stops and he takes a deep breath. Will he see you? Will you run to him and finally kiss him like he’s been thinking of for four years? He braced himself as soldiers spilled out into the road. He could see Polly and Charlie with Finn on his shoulders. He smiled, telling his brothers that he saw everyone.

“You boys are back!” Polly gushed, taking the three of them in an embrace. She blinks away the tears. Tommy was searching the crowd for you and Polly could see that. “She couldn’t make it, Tom. She’s in London,”

His heart drops. Why would you miss this reunion? Why were you in London? He nodded wordlessly, keeping to himself while John answered all of the questions. The day after that, he went to your house but saw that nobody was there. He went to the brothel but there were new girls who didn't know who you were. Johnny wasn’t there either. 

He went there every day for less than two weeks until one day, he saw a scrap of newspaper sitting in the kitchen. 

SIMON AND Y/N COVENTRY PURCHASE NEW HOME IN PARIS AFTER THE WAR. 

He furrowed his brows, turning the pages until sure enough, there you were. It was a portrait of you and Simon. He barged into Polly’s room, opening the drawer where she kept memorabilia. There were multiple pictures of you and your wedding with Simon. There was a picture of you and the whole Shelby clan along with Johnny. There was an envelope with a cheque worth a few thousand pounds from Simon. He shook, his heart beating loudly as he let go of everything. You were married. You married Simon Coventry. You didn't wait for him. 

“Tommy,” Ada whispers from the door, seeing her older brother crouch in defeat. 

“When were you planning to tell me?” he spat. “When?”

“Tommy, we didn’t know how to tell you—“

“Tell me when the fuck were you planning to tell me, Ada or I swear, I will blow this fucking house down,” he threatened, running his fingers through his hair. It’s not the same when you do it. Ada walked towards her brother, seeing her brother so defeated was something new.

“I…” his voice breaks into a sob. “I was under the tunnels and all I could ever think—all I could—I’m smoking fucking opium because I’m so fucking worried and she’s—she’s,” Tommy couldn’t breathe, hyperventilating. “She’s gone, she’s gone…”

There was a ringing in his ears, and he couldn’t hear Ada call for help. He was panicking, tears flowing freely from his eyes. He waited for you. He counted the days until he saw you again, but you were not here. He felt like he was underground again. It was Arthur who calmed him down, slapping Tommy across the face to wake him up. It works, it always works.

“Leave us,” Polly ordered everyone. “Drink some water, Tommy, we have to talk,” 

“Pol—“

“Leave us,”

“Polly, it’s not right!” Ada said. “I should’ve listened to her when she told me she didn’t want it,”

“He has to know, Ada. I’ll tell him now,”

“It’s alright, Ada,” he croaked. “Leave us,” His brother dragged his furious sister away. He was embarrassed to have been seen like that—weak. But what else could he do? He crossed the vastness of a sea of fire just to go home to you. Polly sighed. 

“It’s my fault,” she said once everyone was out. He exhales, a staggered breath as if he’s been carrying all the weight of love that he has for you. 

“It’s all I ever wanted, Pol,” he said, looking down on his lap. A life with you in your home. There’d be a big garden for you to run on. You’ll have so many horses and you'll teach your kids how to ride them. “You know that it’s all I ever wanted,”

“I know, Tom but you can’t blame her,” she said. “She didn’t want to leave and I saw that but what else could she be if she didn’t leave Birmingham? I prayed for your safety everyday, I did. But…but what if you didn’t come back? Would she work at that brothel until she fades? There was an opportunity for her to have a better life outside of Birmingham. I told her to take advantage of it,” she explained, trying to reach Tommy but he flinched away. Polly puts down her hand, clearing her throat.

“She’s all I ever wanted, Polly and you took that from me. You took her-you took her away from me!” he sobbed, cradling his head in his hands. “You took her away. You took her away…”

“She sent you letters while you were away,” Polly said, placing a stack of envelopes beside Tommy. “I’m sorry, Tom but I wanted her to have a good life. Birmingham isn't good for her. You were only going to keep her from making a name for herself,”

Polly nodded to herself before leaving Tommy and a stack of letters that he never received. 

He opens the one on top just to check—just today. 

Dear Tommy,

Every day passes by without you and I still can’t bear it. I hope you’re well, I hope my letters become a sense of comfort for you. 

It’s getting harder for me to spend time with your family. All I could think about was how the two of us would run freely in Polly’s house because you were chasing after me. I couldn’t spend time at home either because my bed reminds me of how much I liked sleeping beside you. It’s so peaceful. I sleep in your clothes sometimes and Ada gave me some of the shirts that you left. I’ll return them to you when you’re back but right now, it’s the only way for me to feel like I could breathe…that someday, you’ll come back to me. I’ll wait. I’ll always wait for you, like I promised. 

I haven’t told you everything yet, but I hope I can tell you soon. 

Tommy opens another one. What’s another stab to the heart anyway?

Dear Tommy,

It’s been years and you haven't written back. Are you mad at me? I’ll stop writing to you for the meantime but just know that I’ll wait for you.

-

LONDON, 1919

Dearest, 

I’m so sorry to tell you but Johnny has died. Please come to Birmingham soon. 

The letter from Johnny’s wife shook in your hands. Big Johnny was dead, and you had to go to Birmingham to the funeral. You ran to your husband’s office. Upon seeing your tear-stained face, his face falls in concern. 

“What the matter, love? Did someone hurt you?” he asked, patting his lap, telling you to sit on it. You complied, hiccuping. You were heartbroken but you knew that if you wanted to go, you had to play smart. You had to play the broken doll that he loved to take care of. 

“Johnny’s dead,” you whispered, burying your face in his chest. You allowed him the privilege to soothe you. His hand inching their way underneath your shirt for unbridled contact. “Johnny’s dead, Simon,” you cried. “I—I got this…letter,” you said, showing him the crumpled piece of paper on your hand. He had to fire whoever gave you this letter—it was a strict rule that he was supposed to read all the letters sent to you. It was a rule that no letter from Birmingham must arrive in your hands. 

“Oh, darling,” he said, kissing your temple. 

“I know…I know that I can’t go,” you said. “But…can I please go, Simon?” you asked. “He was like my father,” you whispered. It was true and Simon knew that. Johnny took care of you to the best of his abilities. You told Simon of the stories when you were younger. Him teaching you arithmetic, teaching you how to throw a punch to defend yourself…he helped you move into the house you bought. You’ve never been there for years, and you wondered if Ada continued to take care of it after abandoning them. “I understand if you won’t allow me,” you nodded, removing yourself away from him but he held you closer. 

“You can go,” he whispered. He’d have you guarded so that no one could even come to you. No Tommy Shelby. “Do you want me to come?”

“No,” you shook your head, regaining your composure. “I know that the partnership with Alfie Solomons will require your full attention. Do you promise to be home once I arrive? I need you,” You stilled on his chest.

You didn’t know what a lie was anymore. 

“Of course, I’ll be here,” he said. 

“I can take some of the guards with me for my safety,” you compromised. You weren’t lying, though. The business he had with Alfie Solomons kind of scared you. What if he sent men to take you as ransom?

“Of course,” he said. “Where will you stay? Are there hotels there?”

“I can stay at my old home.” you said. “We can send in some cleaners before I arrive to make it nice,” 

“Alright, darling. Are you leaving tomorrow? I’ll send some people now. Will that be okay with you?” he asked. You looked up to him, doe-eyed. 

“Yes,” you replied. “Thank you, Simon. I love you,” you said, kissing his cheek. “Thank you.”

BIRMINGHAM, 1919

The Blinders mentioned to Arthur that the old house that Ada takes care of had the lights on. There were multiple servants coming in and out of the run-down house and they asked who was coming. It was the owner of the house. That could only mean…

“Tommy!” Arthur called, nodding at Harry before barging in the special room at the Garrison. “Stop fucking the barmaid and listen to me, mate,”

Grace looks at him sheepishly before excusing herself. 

“Fuck, what is it Arthur?” Tommy asked, lighting a cigarette. 

“Y/N’s coming back,” he said. Tommy halts, looking at Arthur. 

“Arthur—“

“The Blinders saw the lights at her old house open with a fuck ton of servants cleaning up. They asked…told her that the owner of the house is coming back to go to a fucking funeral,” Arthur explained. “She’s coming back, mate. Your Y/N’s coming back.”

Tommy leans on the couch, running a hand through his face. He wordlessly leaves Arthur, not sparing a glance to Grace, before leaving the Garrison entirely. It was midnight, you could be home soon. In the shadows, Tommy waited, his peaky cap making him incognito. 

He waited the whole night, smoking his cigarette and looking at the spot where your house could be seen clearly. At around six in the morning, he sees a convoy of high end cars line up. A black Bentley stopped right in front of the house and there you were. Tommy’s breath is knocked out of his lungs. You were dressed in something simple and comfortable for your travel but you’ve never looked so ethereal. The driver gives you his hand to help you and you smile at him. Looking around the place, peace settles in your features. 

He doesn’t realise it but his face relaxes too. It’s like he hasn’t breathed in all the years he spent without you. He gulps, not allowing himself to cry. He’s stronger now and he couldn’t let his emotions get the better of him. 

He looked on, noticing that Simon Coventry was not with you. It was then he realised that guards dressed formally surrounded your house. It didn’t matter to him. Fuck your husband’s security system. He’ll make a way. Just because there was a change of plans doesn’t mean that you can begin again. He doesn’t care.

You were here. You were finally home, and he wonders if the frame he gave you on your 21st birthday was still there.

PART 3

A/N: Grace will not be romantically involved with Tommy in the story for obvious reasons. There will be mentions of her but they will be minimal. Thank you so much for reading and for giving my story love and support. I hope to see you in the next one!

BTW, we need a face for Simon. Who do you think will be a perfect Simon?

Don’t forget to reblog / leave a comment if you liked it! TAGLIST:  @shelbydelrey @runnning-outof-time @duckybird101 @thenattitude @swordofawriter @litteltourtius​ @trixie23​ @everythingelseisextra​ @majesticcmey @liveat1am @dumb-wh @denabp16 @yvonna-chan @goldensunflowe-r @therosabel @hunnibearrr @dazecrea @daddyslittleattentionwhore @the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf @dang-shawty-okay

[nectardaddy]

'88 Ford | Kita Shinsuke

chapter seven | stupid

masterlist

no smau parts in this one, she's long

track seven . . . tourniquet

cw/notes: hurt/comfort (it's zach bryan's fault blame him), shit gets real country too oof, excuse me while I write a self indulgent blurb of how a father should be :'), nostalgic feelings, I proofread to the best of my ability

a very, very, very special shout out: thank you @mollyrolls @causenessus @froyaoya for listening to me talk about this WAY too much and letting me bother tf out of you guys over it. not to get sappy on main but genuinely thank you for all the comments, tags, and loving it as much as I do!!! I am forever in your favor for this

"Because you're important to me." "You're just saying that, Shinsuke. There's nothing important about me at all." "Everything about you is important to me."

Three days ago - without a word since.

The woman sighed as she looked in the mirror, smudged with finger prints and specks of dust. Taking in her reflection with blurry eyes; the image of a woman with black and blue staining her right eye staring back at her. Swelling gone down from a bag of frozen peas, god forbid they had a real ice pack, still left on the kitchen table and forgotten about entirely.

It was stupid. A worker started something, she finished it. They swung first, though being thoroughly provoked, and she ended it. Winding herself up so tight from the conversation days prior, she found herself more standoffish than normal. Constantly thinking about it, never a waking moment without the words "you're important to me" haunting her. Racking her brain so much as to why he stopped talking to her since, her head hurt from the thoughts that pounded her skull.

So, it truly wasn't her fault the skin of her knuckles were bruised and busted, and her eye tender and discolored. It was his - goddamn Kita Shinsuke. At least that's what she told herself, shifting blame because it felt better. Because it ate her alive every glance he still gave her, despite his lack of words; always locking eyes for a fraction a second before he broke it with a nervous air about him.

Anger was easier to swallow than dejection. It was hot and fluid, boiling through shallow veins easily and bubbling over; while sadness was the lack there of, uncomfortable, and made her stomach turn. She'd rather feel the singe of rage than the emptiness of sorrow.

A door slam caught her attention, gaze snapping towards the sound; thoughts ceased as she watched the figure of her father near the bathroom door. Propping herself up by her hands on the sink, she closed her eyes and sighed once more; expecting the inevitable scolding.

"Did they deserve it?" An unexpected question that made her reopen her eyes, seeing him in the doorway with a ghost of a frown.

"Yeah."

"Did you win?"

"Of course I did."

There was a pause. A length that lingered a bit too long, hearing the sink faucet drip water into the old porcelain, until he let out a sigh. Shoving his hands in the pockets of his work jacket, he turned. Stepping away from the bathroom door and into the small hallway; she followed.

"You gonna' tell me what's going on? Or are you gonna' keep skulking around here with a stick up your ass?"

"Rude," rolling her eyes at his words. "Nothing's goin' on." She crossed her arms over her chest, as if to guard herself, to keep the thoughts that wanted to flow out of her locked deep within. Unfortunately for her, he saw right through it. A bad habit of picking up more twang in her words when she lied, always becoming defensive to the point her accent was the focal point of discussion.

"You never were a good liar," he nearly chuckled at the woman in front of him. "You sound like a hick." He added, "so are you gonna' fess up? Or keep pickin' fights with workers?"

"They had it coming." A snarkiness shining through as she huffed out a breath; moving past him in the hallway as to further herself from the conversation. "And pickin' fights sounds pretty fun to me, honestly."

"Yeah? Well it ain't fun seeing my daughter with a black eye." His comment made her falter, stopping mid step just before the quant living area. Another sigh left her lips. It wasn't as if she didn't want to tell her father, it was bringing up the sickly feelings that came along with it. Admitting that it hurt, caused an emptiness, and made her ill to think about it.

"It's stupid."

"It ain't stupid if it has you out here raising hell."

Another pause, and feeling her father's worry made her want to wretch. To heave and slink right back into her skin; feeling all the more worse that she caused him panic in the slightest. She turned back to look at him a moment - she frowned, crumbling right there on the spot. Maybe it was her father's eyes swimming with concern, or maybe she just couldn't keep it in anymore. Which ever it was, she felt her heart fall to the pits of her stomach and she swallowed hard to fight the lump in her throat.

"Shinsuke said I was important to him and now he won't talk to me anymore, dad," voice cracking as she took a step towards him. She watched as his features fell through blurry eyes, and for a moment she believed she said the wrong thing. Tears slipped down her cheeks as she stood in front of him; he sighed.

"C'mere," holding out his arms to which she wholeheartedly obliged. Hugging him like her life depended on it - crying. Haven't shed a single tear in years, refusing to feel such hollow and empty emotions, it poured out of her. Shaking, clinging to her father, as she finally let her emotions swallow her completely.

"I'm in love with him. And I feel so fucking stupid because he doesn't even love me back; he won't even speak to me."

"I remember when he first got here," conflicting the tone of the conversation all together. "I never in my life thought you'd fall for someone so quiet." A seemingly random thought, but he continued all the same. "But then I saw how he looked at you and I realized why you liked him so much."

"What the hell are you talkin' about?"

"Maybe you don't see it, through that black eye and angst you have goin' on, but that boy is in love with you."

"He's not in love with me."

He pulled away from the woman slowly, looking in her eyes with a care that was meant for only her, but a seriousness that was as deadly as a heart attack. Holding her gently by her shoulders, he gave her a sad smile. "I don't like arguin' with you, you give me hell for it every time. But you're wrong."

She stood there a moment, looking at her father through foggy eyes. Features wet and tear stained, a numbing pain singing the right side of her face; irritating her bruised eye further. "Well, if you're so smart, why isn't he talkin' to me?"

He saw the puzzled expression on her face and couldn't help but laugh. "Because men are stupid." A statement he told her often, one she always laughed about, but held onto like a lifeline now. After every fight, every argument, and every failed past relationship; always telling her 'men are stupid. Don't let their stupidity stop you from doing shit.'

"So what should I do about it?" Breath stopped in her throat at the thought of the man actually being in love with her. A sickly sensation swirling in her stomach that didn't feel like the cliché butterflies, it felt like spiders. The feeling slowly caught up to her as her tears leisurely stopped. Eating away at her until she caught herself being frustrated all over again.

"Don't let it stop you from doing shit," he chuckled. "Tell him to stop being stupid."

taglist under cut

@wyrcan @chizunata @seroh @chemiru @froyaoya

@h3xi2g0n3 @localgaytrainwreck @mollyrolls @causenessus @diorzs

@rory-cakes @phoenix-eclipses @pattys-got-cakes @girlkissersco

@jaynawayna @aliensstolemyheart @le000xxgrd @cherrypieyourface @miliondollagirl

[th-xeno]

I. have thought about doing it for a while. and the recent drama's multiplied it. so, even if it's unusual for me,

an analysis of Mlynar Nearl (and the Nearls' arc as a whole) and Why He Is My Premium and Beloved Babygirl.

tbh at first I almost hated him when I read Maria's event. he seemed like an arrogant holier-than-thou asshole and I was like, you know what? fuck you for me and my little girl! she just wants to be a knight like her sister! 

but in Near Light, I started to like him. he was just so tired, so hopeless. he said he was dissapointed, but asked his friend to protect his nieces. his said he didn't care, but protected the Infected under assassins' attack. 

and then I thought, he lies. constantly, but mostly to himself. because he's not an arrogant asshole. he's just... so bad at feelings.

so deeply broken.

and now the Obscure Wanderer arrived and Oh My God.

first of all, there're multiple times when he says the exact opposite to what he does, so let's take this knowledge and come back to the start, Maria's event. 

he doesn't say "you're weak and useless to defend our glory" or "your sister is better than you" like I thought at the time. no, he tries to say, he wants her not to risk her life. not to let the system break her light like it broke almost everyone in his family. 

his brother and sister-in-law were great knights that fought for the glory of their country, and now they're gone. the system threw them away like garbage. his niece fought for their family, for the chivalric ideals, and she was hunted and then exiled. 

and finally, Mlynar himself. an idealist that found out, there's no point in fighting the capitalism. there's no hope. and between losing life in endless conspiracies and losing himself working for corporations but helping his family to survive, he chose the latter. 

but Maria didn't need to choose. she could be free of the weight of the noble titles, of the useless principles, and yet she chose to fight - and almost got killed, if not for her sister.

of course Mlynar was pissed. 

moreover, he was pissed because Margaret came back in the first place. she could have live a happy life far away from this rotten place. she didn't need to risk all of it for the country that will never remember her efforts. he was afraid for her. 

and then, Near Light. Nearl the Radiant Knight.

Mlynar saw her actions as a reflection of his own faults. Margaret tried to play the system's rules to change it, but Mlynar knew it was pointless. the system didn't care. the Radiant Knight will be forgotten, just like her parents. 

but when Margaret came back, she was different, and maybe she understood her uncle more then anyone.

she, too, saw defects of the system (how the Infected were treated). she, too, went through the war (with the Reunion).

but she didn't lose hope.

I may overanalyse it, but I guess she knew the power of the symbolic action because of Talulah. Talulah fucked up the Reunion, she lost, she was insane - and yet the Reunion didn't die in Chernobog, because Infected acknowledged that they can change the world. 

and Margaret tried to do the same. it didnot matter if she won or lost. it didnot matter if her false infection was made public.

she was the Light in the Darkness. she stood up for the weak. she was a Knight.

and that awakened something in Mlynar.

he decided to help the Infected so his family can leave in peace. to help the weak. to restore justice. to do the very same that he thinks a knight must do.

and so, he acknowledged the power of Margaret’s actions. that she really can change something. because she changed him.

she awakened hope in him, and he needed time to proceed it. 

and so (in less than 800 words haha) I come to the main topic, Mlynar's event. and oh boy, this i-am-not-a-knight is more knightly that many.

he shits on knighthood not out of hatred for chivalry, but out of belief in it. the modern knights do not care about the weak, so he doesn't want to be a knight nor be called one. because he is not interested in fight, but in help.

and he doesn't want anyone to see it.

stop corrupted corporation of taking important task? what a naive assumption! 

help two infected girls to stop the riots? pfft, what a joke.

fight a corporation so they don't hunt an innocent? MAYBE YOU'LL ALSO SAY HE HELPED CHILDREN IN DANGER??? 

but unlike in his youth, he doesn't challenge the system, doesn't try single-handedly to change the world. small changes that can make a little better.

gentle light, not blinding.

he hates what his country has become, but still - even as an ordinary man - even lying to himself - tries to make it better. that's why he want everyone to leave but himself. because deep down in his cynical, angry, depressed personality still lives an idealistic knight. 

still lives a hopeful man that believes that his brother and his sister-in-law are alive. that his family can be whole again, even if no one else do. 

he just cares for his family so deeply. he wants his nieces to live happily (somewhere else). wants them not to repeat his mistakes (even if it breaks their dreams). wants their parents back. he just can’t properly express himself. 

but the funniest thing? I think they know it. Margaret, because she knows how bad his trauma is. Maria, because she could see how office work and Margaret’s exile changed him. Zofia, because she knew him well enough.

and so, all of them were happy when he went to Rhodes Island. because they did the world better, and maybe will make Mlynar feel better. 

as a conclusion,,, GOD his depression and burnout are so big. TAKE THIS MAN TO THERAPY. HONEYBERRY, SAVE THE DAY. I LOVE HIM SOOOO MUCH. MY GRUMPY ANGY BABYGIRL.

[mariacallous]

It would, Grant Shapps says, be bad news for British democracy if Labour won too large a majority next month. For a moment I wondered whether his words reflected a realisation that his own party had only been able to manage stable government this century when it was in coalition with someone else, but I don’t think this was his point. 

It’s true that governments with small majorities are more constrained, but this isn’t obviously a good thing. Our years of Brexit deadlock were only broken once the government had a comfortable majority. And if you believe, as some on the right claim they do, that Britain needs planning reform and plenty of housebuilding, then a Labour government with a large majority is the likeliest route to those things. Certainly the Conservatives haven’t been able to deliver them with theirs.

But let me offer a different counterargument: it would be very good for our democracy for the Conservative Party to suffer a crushing defeat. The Conservatives have behaved terribly in government, and politicians, like children, need to know that their actions have consequences.

In 2019, British voters were faced with an unusual and appalling situation: a choice between two men both utterly unfit to be prime minister. Leaving aside Jeremy Corbyn’s political abilities — he could never persuade even Labour MPs that he ought to head a government — and his instincts — he would go on to suggest the British government had provoked Russia’s invasion of Ukraine — he had neither the temperament nor the intellect for the top job. So voters opted for what they perceived to be the lesser of two evils.

The result was that Labour paid a price for offering an unfit leader, and the Conservatives were rewarded. And that has been a bad thing. It told Tories that integrity in public life was optional. Boris Johnson, of course, needed no encouragement on that score, but his weak-minded followers, in Parliament, on his staff, and in the media, thought they had won a free pass. “Voters don’t care,” we were assured, after each fresh scandal broke. Until it turned out that they did. 

For all their later cries of anguish as Boris Johnson’s character was laid bare on the public stage, Conservatives knew exactly who he was when they made him prime minister. If the precise details of his downfall were pleasingly novel — who had “locks up the nation while hosting a series of wild parties” on their bingo card? — it was no surprise that he thought rules were for other people and lied as was convenient. This had been his entire career. I hope my colleague Paul Goodman will forgive me reminding him of what was surely the greatest ever ConservativeHome editorial, which suggested that Johnson should be prime minister, but with rival Jeremy Hunt as a deputy, to handle the tedious business of running the country. Has any endorsement ever been less enthusiastic?

Conservative MPs knew who Johnson was during the 2019 election campaign, when he insisted his Brexit proposals wouldn’t create a regulatory border in the Irish Sea. Did any Tory correct the prime minister as he misled voters about a key feature of the deal that was the centrepiece of his election campaign? Of course not. Voters don’t care!

And that’s just Johnson. Is there any Conservative out there who wants to argue that, since their party took sole charge of the country in 2015, they have been a good government? Four years spent arguing about Brexit followed by 18 months of a lockdown policy that was conspicuously more interested in pubs than schools, and then three years of infighting. There are bright spots — the vaccine and the leadership on Ukraine — but the main theme has been chaos. We have had as many chancellors of the exchequer in the last nine years as we did in the preceding 30. 

And what is there to show for it? The party’s central economic policy has been to make it harder for British businesses to sell things to France. And, in fairness, it has achieved that — even if, for some reason, Conservatives are now reluctant to talk about it. Take that away, and you’re left with what? High taxes and a crumbling public realm. For months now, the most damning criticism of the state of the country at Prime Minister’s Questions has come from the Tory benches, as MPs complain that their constituents can’t see dentists or doctors. Not even Conservative MPs think that life is good under the Conservatives.

So I’m happy for the party to be crushed. I don’t go quite as far as the 46 per cent of the public who say Conservatives deserve to lose every seat, but I could live with that result far more easily than the party holding 250 seats. 

I want the Conservative Party from 2015 to 2024 to be a cautionary tale that politics professors whisper to terrify their students. Because if you can govern this badly, behave this badly, without any consequences, that would bode very ill indeed for our democracy.

[lakesparkles]

LiS True Colors fanfic (prologue)

Terrible title, I know lmao, but it doesn't have an actual title yet. I'm finally ready to start sharing my fanfics, this being the first one here.

The main idea was "what if Alex had Max's powers too?" because I wanted to write a time travel story, basically. It starts after the ending of the game, but not an official one, I guess? I kinda mixed two of them. The beggining of the fic will be more Alex/Steph but there are a lot of mentions of Alex/Ryan in this prologue too.

Last thing is that English is not my main language so sorry for any mistake! Here's something I drew for it:

You can read it on this google doc or under the cut: (1424 words)

Prologue

.

.

.

Alex doesn't understand how doing exactly what she wanted can be so scary

Or

What if Alex had Max's powers?

---

  The bus gave a sudden lurch, and Alex had to catch herself from falling off the seat. For that measly second, her mind returned to the real world, looking around. Beside her, Steph was going through the same thing, cursing under her breath as she returned to her previous position.

  Then it ended.

  Her attention immediately returned to the window, her cheek resting on her hand. Outside, the trees and mountains were farther apart. Different. Quite different from Haven Springs. The realization of that knocked her over again, making Alex swallow hard as she began to think about how her own decision hadn't made her as satisfied as she'd hoped.

  Maybe it was because she didn't think it would happen so soon. I mean, Alex was never an optimistic person. Far from that. Because optimism never made her life easier. However, part of her had found small hopes just a few weeks ago, when she'd been on a bus much like this one: seeing Gabe again could be weird, but could also be good. She could find connections, comfort, and everything else she'd lacked before. She could make Haven Springs her home.

  She would be lying if she said that things didn't turn out the way her more unrealistic self imagined.

  And again, even that hadn't gotten her anywhere. For there she was, heading towards the opposite side of the country, just as she had started.

  Alex sighed, burying her face in her hand.

  "Look," Steph's voice made her reluctantly focus on something that was not her thoughts, "you might be the one among us who reads minds... Buuuuut something tells me you'd have a blue stain around you right now ... It's blue, right?

  A second sigh came out of Alex's throat, but this time, she too turned her head and smiled slightly. A sad smile:

  "I am really sorry. I think I'm kind of tired."

  "But already?" Steph didn't seem convinced, "It's the first hours of our incredible journey! When we're in Pennsylvania you won't even be able to stand up then!"

  There was a certain good humor in her voice, which Alex appreciated. She was already tired of all the disguised judgments she had received in the last few days in that city.

  "You're really used to traveling, huh!?"

  "I prefer to believe that I wasn't born for only one city!" Steph closed her eyes in a dramatic pose, pointing at herself.

  It was lovely. Alex's smile rose a few inches, until she noticed the blue stain start to appear around the other one. It was small and lasted a few seconds. Alex even tried to avoid reading Steph's thoughts, but it was almost involuntary: as none so far made me feel like I should.

  "I'm with you on this one!" Alex laughed awkwardly.

  She knew her thoughts would take over again. So she didn't even turn her face to the window. Instead, she slowly laid down on Steph's shoulder, giving the other woman enough time to stop her if she wanted to. But of course Steph didn't move a muscle, just resting her head on Alex's.

  The contact was still awkward. Something she knew she would need more time to get used to. It was just one of the many consequences of growing up with little affection. She now avoided and begged for it in equal measure. It was like that when she hugged Gabe for the first time after meeting him again: awkward, out of place and strangely nice.

  She felt her brother's affection in unusual ways, being when she discovered that he had bought a guitar as a gift, days before she arrived; or when everyone in town spoke to her with a certain familiarity during her first week there. "Gabe couldn't stop talking about you!", Ryan confessed one afternoon that he spent at her apartment, "He guaranteed that everyone would love you! He said that you could form a band with Steph. That you wouldn't even complain about watching the boring documentaries I liked. Scary how right he was... And now I understand why he thought that...".

  Every time she talked about Gabe with Ryan, she felt a warm feeling in her chest, in a way she knew she wouldn't feel with anyone else. The two understood each other and expressed their love for Gabe through each other as well. It made that anything but real, as if they were just two old friends reminiscing about stories and would soon see Gabe again.

  Affection for Alex often took that form: being able to pretend everything was fine with someone else.

  At that very moment, Alex had her legs on top of Ryan's. He gently placed his hand on her knee, lightly caressing the area. Something so small and ordinary and…weird. She didn't know if she liked it, and it made her uneasy.

  She wanted something real and different from the feelings she'd stolen from someone else. And she knew reality was always a little scary, so she seemed to be on the right path.

  It intensified when she handed him the rose at the festival, her heart beating a mile a second. Even worse when she kissed him for the first time, the gold and purple mingled in him as well as her. She was close enough to feel everything that went through his mind. It was always a mixed bag, just like it was with Alex. Confused. Scary. New. Comfortable.

  Maybe all that fear wasn't so bad after all.

  Purple certainly followed her through the rest of that short relationship.

  She saw how Ryan was paralyzed as she confronted his father. Or when he himself yelled at her, telling her to stop it.

  Ryan didn't believe her.

  It wasn't the anger she was so used to that washed over him as he refused her touch, almost as if he was disgusted with her. Or when he started avoiding her for the next few days, his guilt prevented him from even getting close.

  No. It wasn't anger. Or sadness.

  It was fear.

  Now Alex couldn't help but think of everything from the start. At all the other times that emotion was present.

  Maybe it wasn't as normal as she wanted to believe it was.

  "It's like this in the beginning!" Steph's voice again brought her back to the real world.

  Alex needed a few seconds to even understand what was said:

  "Huh?"

  "This weird bus adrenaline! It's always kind of sad, at least it was like that for me too" She said while practically rubbing her face against Alex's, "But let me tell you a secret: Salem will never be the best part! We have many places to visit even before there!"

  "Is that talk about 'the true treasure are the friends you made along the way?"

  Steph lightly punched her arm, even though she was laughing:

  "I'm serious, okay? The good part is that we'll never know if Salem will really be our final stop. Maybe we'll walk into a hotel in the middle of nowhere in Ohio and decide that's where we belong."

  "Is that what happened when you stopped in Haven Springs?"

  "No..." She admitted, "But that hope always wanted to get me out of there."

  Alex still appreciated how much the other tried to cheer her up, so she decided to shrug her shoulders, giving up:

  "Who knows, right? We might not even stop anywhere! Let's just keep traveling. We just need to get temporary jobs to buy a van."

  "Then we can make a short list: ‘places to visit before death'! We will travel the country!"

  "And then we'll go down to Latin America. Somewhere has to be our place."

  "Or no place will ever be our place!"

  "You make it look like a good thing." She chuckled.

  "You understand me, Alex."

  That simple sentence cut the conversation short. Alex lifted her head from her shoulder, then made eye contact with Steph. She had said the last sentence simply, as if she was joking. However, the way she was looking at Alex now, it was as if she had confessed to something much bigger, which she had been keeping inside for a long time.

  The color purple washed over Steph.

  Alex smiled.

  Maybe she wasn't so wrong about affection and love.

[shmaptainwrites]

[CH. 4] New Doctor on the Block

Chapter 4: Dear Dad

Pairings: Hawkeye Pierce x fem!Reader

Characters: Hawkeye Pierce, B.J. Hunnicutt

Summary: Hawkeye writes home to his dad and tells him about the new surgeon at the camp

Warnings: sappy sap sapppyyyyy

Note: Okay you know I had to write a Dear Dad chapter, it was so cool exploring a bit of Hawkeye’s perspective in this! Hope you all like it :) please ignore that this is a day late i COMPLETELY forgot

Series Masterlist - NDotB Masterlist

When Hawkeye woke up that morning he knew something felt different. At first, he thought it could have been what Frank was arguing about with B.J. but that couldn’t be it. 

Tale as old as time. He thought to himself. 

But as he started to wake more he realized, today was the day someone was coming to interview some of the people working at their M*A*S*H unit. 

He wasn’t sure whether he looked forward to or dreaded it, but either way, it was coming. 

“You okay Hawkeye?” B.J. asked and the surgeon shrugged. 

“Was gonna write to my dad this morning, but I think that’s going to have to wait,” he pointed to the jeep pulling into the unit. 

“I’m sure you’ll have time to do it in the afternoon. It’s too bad not everyone is here for the interview,” he commented, noting yours and Major Houlihan’s absence, both away on a weekend trip to Tokyo. “Would have been good to hear from both of them.” 

Hawkeye nodded his head and they exited the swamp waiting to be called on for their interviews. 

Hawkeye did his interview in the mess tent. Some of the questions he thought were peculiar, almost wondering what was being hidden from the public about the war and seeing and hearing how normal things were going on back home only made him miss it more. He missed Maine, his practice in Boston, he missed his friend Trapper, and most of all, he missed feeling safe. As much as Hawkeye had come to love the South Koreans, their country had only brought him fear and he imagined it was the same for them, except eventually, hopefully, he got to go back home. This was their home. 

Once the interview was over and he had just gotten settled in his tent, the notice came out that they were flying in more wounded and all available personnel needed to report to the OR immediately. 

He sighed, putting down the paper and pencil he was going to use to write to his father and rushed out to triage. 

He wasn’t sure how many hours later it was when they finished, but all he knew was he couldn’t fall asleep. Not immediately anyways, eventually the exhaustion would take over, but for now, the adrenaline was coursing through his veins and it needed to die down before he got any rest. 

So he picked up the pen and paper he had left on his bed and sat down outside under the light of a portable lamp and began to write. 

Dear Dad, 

What a day it’s been. I know I’ve told you about our busy days here, but this one was a little different. A documentary group had come to interview all of us on what it was like being close to the front of the war. I’m not sure if they got what they were looking for. 

A little while after the interviews finished a new wave of choppers came with wounded soldiers and we tended to them all night. I just got out of the OR myself. 

I feel a bit bad though because I think I lied when the interviewer asked me a question. He said, who are your heroes? I wasn’t sure I had any so I said I didn’t but the more I thought of it I figured it out and it’s even funnier because get this, she hates my guts. 

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned the new surgeon who’s joined our unit. She’s from New Hampshire and worked as a nurse in the Second World War. She’s phenomenal, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone more capable for her position. I must admit a few of us were skeptical when she first arrived, but she’s got a knack for it, keeps up to date with the journals, and managed to save a few patients who wouldn’t have made it otherwise because of that. 

Just a little while ago, we had this kid come into the OR, we knew right away there was nothing we’d be able to do for him and cutting him up would just add to the unpleasantness so we gave him some painkillers to at least numb him, but he was still lucid. He grabbed her arm and started calling her mom, all of us thought he was delusional or the pain was making him see something in her that wasn’t there. B.J. was about to step in and tell the boy that his mother wasn’t there, but she stopped him and sat down and acted like his mother until he was gone. It was one of the most selfless things I’ve ever seen anyone do here. It was no easy job, he was scared out of his mind, didn’t want to die, but then again who would at eighteen? Turns out he was carrying a picture of his mother on him when he went, the resemblance was uncanny. 

I don’t know if I’d ever be able to do that for someone. I’m a doctor, I know I can do that much, but she’s a mom too, there’s another level of thinking there that I don’t understand. Suppose I never will. 

And she’s not just a good doctor, I wish you could have seen the way she surprised everyone the other week. Father Mulcahy, I’ve told you about him, he’s our unit’s chaplain, and likes to organize sports and games to keep the morale high around here, so he planned a game of football for some of the enlisted men, a few of the surgeons were around when he suggested it and she asked if she could join them. One of the privates commented that maybe the game might be too rough for her, but before he could protest any more she took the ball from the Father and marched out to the middle of the compound. She asked the private to try and block her and when he refused she gave rank and the poor guy had no idea what was coming for him. She easily managed to get past him and across the line but didn’t stop there. Next, she tossed him the football and told him to try and get past her. Since he was embarrassed of course he had to try and rise to the occasion, but I’m sure you can sense where I’m going with this. She tackled the crap out of him then picked herself up and dusted off her pants as if nothing had happened. B.J. found out later that her mom was sick a lot when she was younger so she spent a lot of time with her dad and one of their favourite pastimes was playing football. I think all of us here at MASH can say without a doubt that he taught her very well. 

Aside from that, I narrowly avoided spending the rest of my life in the stockade just by being a good doctor. It was the 557th time Frank had tried to court marshall me for mutiny, but all that came out of it was that Frank is an incompetent doctor and surgeon and I had every right to drug him with novocaine so his reign of terror would end. 

Not much else has happened here aside from the usual surgery, sleep, and bad food, but I hope all is well at home. I look forward to hearing back from you soon. 

Love, 

Your son, 

Hawkeye Pierce

Tags

@montyfandomlove

[defenderofthelight]

About me~

Hello! I'm Hannah and if you stumbled upon my blog - welcome! I'm glad you're here 🥰

A little about me: I'm a married 90's kid but I don't have any kiddos (yet). I work part-time as a barista, make designs for Redbubble, and am working on a couple writing/editing projects. I love coffee, tea, purple, pink, and pastel colors. I struggle with fatigue, major depression, anxiety, and C-PTSD but don't let my weaknesses hold me back or define who I am. I LOVE to create and although I've had some major slumps with my mental health, I always find myself going back to it. When I'm not creating, I enjoy spending time with my hubby or my closest friends and family. I also love video games (cozy indie games are my favorite), reading, music, collaborating with characters or story ideas, and watching Bob's Burgers, old TV shows, or anime.

My projects: Skyglass (main): middle grade fantasy series I'm currently writing about a bunch of fae kiddos. Premise: A young orphaned girl learns she’s from a magical world. But she must make an important choice—stay in her comfort zone and let fear control her, or step up and help change the course of history in her new world.

Project Burley (on hiatus): collaborative project I started on Instagram in 2019. It's about a creative arts school that houses middle school through high school students in a world where creativity is severely looked down on. I still love my kiddos deeply from this project, so I plan on posting more about them here. And if you're ever interested in reading my short stories and learning even more about my kids, links to my stories are at the bottom of this post and in my linktree.

TBN "Oreo" project (side): another story I've got in development that'll probably turn into a book. Premise: After being sent to a school for young criminals and social outcasts, Theo must team up with the eccentric Orly. Because their school isn't what he thought it was, and they are all in danger of being turned into weapons of war for their country. (I'll use the "Project Oreo" tag for this now).

AND I'm bound to post about miscellaneous other characters and story ideas. Since I play around with a lot -- but those above are my most consistent/serious ones at the moment.

Other interests: In case you couldn't already tell, I'm passionate about original characters, stories, and content. It's not that I hate fan made content (and you're bound to see fan art reblogged on my side blog sometimes), but there is something truly special about original ideas so that is where my main interest lies. I really hope to find many original character artists and writers here to love and support.

I'm also a huge advocate for mental health and strive to be a light in this dark, chaotic world. I plan to make my blogs safe, happy places for anyone to enjoy who shares common interests with me.

If anything I've rambled about resonates with you, I'd love for you to follow my blog! I promise I'll check out every blog that follows mine and give you a follow back if I like what I see 💜

You can also follow my side blog @heartsintent where I reblog posts.

Thank you for reading!!

Books I'm currently reading: The Golden Yarn (Reckless Book 3) by Cornelia Funke, The Hard Good by Lisa Whittle

Games I'm currently playing/regularly play: Stardew Valley (regularly), Coral Island, Spirittea, Farm Together (regularly), Sims 4 (regularly) -- I'm an Xbox girl, but I sometimes play on Switch too

Follow me on: Instagram | Redbubble | Goodreads | Spotify

Project Burley Stories: Season 1 | Season 2 | Season 3 | Season 4

My bio picture was created by @sakura-artist <3

[checkoutmybookshelf]

Re-reading The Fellowship of the Ring for the First Time in Fifteen Years

Our dearest darlingest Samwise Gamgee might think things like elves are "a bit above [his] likes and dislikes, so to speak," but I have not reached that level of garden-born enlightenment, so let's get on to what I liked and disliked on the continuing saga of my LotR reread. Let's talk "Chapter 4: A Short Cut to Mushrooms."

So apparently elves are cool with pulling an Irish goodbye after being deeply unhelpful in terms of forking over information that is directly related to the missing that the hobbits are on, because Frodo wakes up in a field bower and Pippin is sassy about wanting to eat all the elven bread but Sam refusing to let him because Frodo needs breakfast too.

Everyone should have a Sam to make sure they get breakfast. No matter what else is going on, breakfast is important. Although not gonna lie, I feel Pippin's "that bread is delicious and I want ALL OF IT inside me" vibes too. My worst self is a hungry hobbit with elven bread.

Before we even get breakfast sorted out though, Frodo and Pippin are comfortably arguing about Black Riders and whether to take the road or go cross-country. Once the petty bickering is over, we head out through fields and thickets and distinctly do not take the road...which again, probably saves their dang tails, because not even a Black Rider can get a horse down a super steep bank to nab hobbits.

Then of course they end up tromping through difficult terrain and get a wee bit lost, until eventually we end up on Farmer Maggot's land, wherein we find out that Farmer Maggot sent a Black Rider packing and he can feed fourteen people a solid meal at the drop of a hat. Then Maggot drives our boys to Bucklebury Ferry, where after a brief bait-and-switch, we are reunited with Merry!

Really quite a quick chapter for Tolkien, I gotta say.

What I think I liked best though was the development of relationships between our main three. Frodo and Pippin joshing and bickering like old friends--and fully establishing Pippin as deeply direct and somewhat unaware of stakes--is kind of adorable, and the sense we get that these are long-term patterns and comfortable friendships is really lovely. That's further solidified when it's made clear that Merry and Pippin used to just like...hang with Farmer Maggot in the past? And Frodo didn't because he used to steal mushrooms. This is so honestly legit in terms of like, the different dynamics between friend groups and who you let do the talking in what circumstances. I really adored how textured and deep and real this felt, and in SUCH a short amount of space! I think this has been the shortest chapter so far in this book (like 15 pages in my copy), and yet it still packs so much character development and so many dynamics into the space.

The most interesting development though is from Sam. I believe Peter Jackson had Sam attribute "don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee" to Gandalf, but ACKSHUALLY (I'm so sorry), in the book, it's freaking Gildor and his elves. They're the ones who exhort Sam not to leave Frodo, and Sam of course had no intention to before that, and after that conversation he's going to stick to Frodo EVEN HARDER, because now he thinks he has a reason to beyond just inherent loyalty. Which is all fine and dandy, and I like that we get that when Frodo is trying to prime Sam to be left behind--which of course Sam is having none of.

We love Sam for a reason, y'all.

But, the other really deeply interesting thing is that I think this is the first point of change we see in Sam. I'll let him describe it:

I don't know how to say it, but after last night I feel different. I seem to see ahead, in a kind of way. I know we are going to take a very long road, into darkness; but now I know I can't turn back. It isn't to see the elves now, nor dragons, nor mountains, that I want - I don't rightly know what I want: but I have something to do before the end, and it lies ahead, not in the Shire. I must see it through, sir...

It makes sense to me that Gandalf, Maia wizard, to have a sense of the edges of the shape of the future. Nobody's questioning that, it's fine. But Sam has just said something deeply similar to, if less specific than, Gandalf's sense that Gollum still has a role to play before the end. This feels like Sam got low-key divine knowledged by the elves, and frankly I'm both here for it and deeply appreciative of this equation of Sam with Gandalf in this way. It's a nice little piece of foreshadowing that Sam will be important and the fact that it puts his knowledge of what is actually important on a level with Gandalf and the elves speaks volumes about what Tolkien wanted to do with the character from the very beginning. Sam always was, is, and will be important.

So let's get on with the next chapter and see what our core four hobbits get up to next.

[chloe-caulfield94]

I've had this little idea in my head about who evil max actually is.... my guess is she might be our max's alter ego

what do you think?

I think that Max's nightmare in Episode 5 was "all in her head" - so everything Max saw and heard while there was a product of her own mind. That doesn't make this sequence any less important. On the contrary, just like her diary, it allows us to have a glimpse at her thoughts and feelings.

All the townspeople accusing her of murder? That's her guilt. Max is kind, sensitive and empathetic, so when she sees the storm unfold she feels responsible even though I don't think she is.

Evil Chloe making out with other people and insulting Max? That's Max's insecurity. Max struggles with her lack of confidence throughout the game. She goes a long way in those five days. From being too afraid to submit a photo for a school contest to driving a stolen car in the middle of a tornado. She found her strength when it was needed. And she listened to Chloe's good advice: "Every great artist gets rejected before being accepted", "Start moving forward in time", "Once you get over yourself, you will make the world bow", "Stop beating yourself up". When Max says at the beach in Episode 5 that she's a nobody, Chloe responds by saying she needs to accept how awesome she is. The entire ordeal made Max stronger and more confident, but her insecurity is still there and during the nightmare it fights to gain control again.

And Evil Max? She's doubt. She's the part of Max's mind that always questions the good things that happen to her. Why would Chloe be with me? She must be using me. There's no way she would be with me just for me. I gave so much for her and what did I receive in return? Fighting doubts is a war we all wage our entire lives. And every victory is so satisfying.

I love when Max answers the question "You think she's worth all that?" with "Of course. She's my best friend". That's such a noble and heartwarming sentiment. Yes, we are willing to do everything for the people we care about. Not because we expect something in return. Simply because we care about them. Love and friendship aren't supposed to be transactional in nature. Although a different answer ("It has to be my destiny to save her") is also nice, because it flips the whole destiny nonsense on its head.

I don't think Evil Max is a separate person from Max, but rather a manifestation of her negative emotions. Although with all the crazy supernatural stuff going on in the LiS universe, I guess Evil Max could split off, sort of like mr Scratch did from Alan Wake. Come to think of it, Bright Falls is in Washington State, so Max and Chloe should be careful when they go to the country for a ride, lest they find an enchanted lake.

I don't think Evil Max is "autopilot Max", because nothing suggests that Max behaved differently (at least in the main timeline) while she was gone. I think the "autopilot" did pretty much the same things real Max would do, but simply lacked the memories gained by main Max during the time jump.

[defensivelee]

I have created. another AU. as you may have noticed, most of my AUs are just general vibes in my head BUT THIS ONE. NOT THIS ONE. like Alien Alien, this one has an immeasurable amount of worldbuilding and dynamics already figured out partly because I was turning it around in my head for like a month or so and I think it’s too developed to not yell about it here

it was inspired by a variety of Japanese music videos, mostly by TOOBOE’s “Tablet” and then a ton of MASA WORKS DESIGN’s stuff. if anything MWD is like. the soundtrack for it i actually made a playlist if you wanna see (it’s literally all MWD oh my god)

anyway read on for screamings about the weird modern fantasy mafia AU called Six Lives Won’t Make You Happy, or if you don’t have much time, Six Lives.

This is a world completely different from ours. Once upon a time, devils from an unknown realm ruled the world, but once humanity began to assert itself, they went back to wherever they came from. What they left behind were their descendants, crossbred with humans that continued to spread throughout the globe. To this day, their descendants carry on the legacy of the devils.

The main story takes place in the city of New Amsterdam, and as to what the name refers to is up to interpretation. This is also in the modern day, or at least some kind of modern time...it’s definitely not ours.

Humanity

About 60% of humanity is descended from the numerous devils of antiquity. What they have to show for their devil ancestry are their tails, horns, markings, and other features on their bodies that weren’t seen on humans before the devils. That’s all pretty normal to see on a human, but not all descendants of the devils have those features, so it’s not always easy to tell the difference between someone who came from devils and someone who didn’t, and to see exactly which kingdom they are descended from is even harder.

Of course, they’re the dominant species now, but absolute deference to the devil ancestors is expected. However, the devils aren’t worshipped so much as the Allies are.

Allies

As revered as they are reviled, these are humans bound to the souls of actual devils, not descendants. It is required, in fact, that the human not be a descendant of a devil, otherwise that would make the whole soul-binding event more difficult if the devil had to fight against the rival devil blood within the human.

Today, what some devils need to keep surviving is a human host, but they do not take over human bodies fully. Far from it, actually. A human will seek out a devil that has now been freed from their recently deceased host, and if this human successfully conquers the devil in battle, they will receive the powers of the devil. These greatly vary depending on the individual. The devil essentially lies dormant in the human body until the human dies and the cycle repeats again. The surefire way to tell if someone is an Ally is to look if they have tear-like markings under their incredibly dark eyes.

Allies are worshipped in this society as devils in the real world, and once a human becomes one with the devil they defeated, they become the revered image of that devil. The devil itself is not worshipped, the human is. They are called Allies because they “close the gap between humanity and its ancestors.” There are about 200 Allies in the world at one time, and they receive prayers from all around the world to them. What these Allies do is...really nothing, a few hours a day they’ll sit around and receive visitors to hand out blessings and advice, and of course receive “donations.” As the world has developed around them, so too has the mode of worship, and these Allies have become more like celebrities than anything.

Of course, some still try to do their job, but others really get into it for the fame and money. That is why in most countries their existence is heavily regulated and it is usually politicians that are the Allies. Even then, they must have “handlers” around them at all times, known more accurately as devil tamers, who know how to neutralize their powers should they lash out for any reason.

Not everyone worships the Allies for the reason that they are dangerous, and the fact that many of them are frauds. Many organized crime groups have Allies under them and use them simply to win more money, and not just with donations. With what is essentially a domesticated devil under their control, the possibilities are as endless as they are bloody!

Dwaallicht Spirits

Also known as dwaallicht remnants, these are lower-class devils that are much more abundant and older than their more powerful counterparts. They come from the ancient energies that created the universe and world itself, known as dwaallichten. Over time, the dwaallichten faded away, leaving only remnants that continued to create demonic life on the surface of the Earth.

These spirits vary even more in power and appearances than the greater devils do. Some are only as intelligent as fish, others can impersonate humans. Some lasted only a year, others are immortal. Some can only be classified as “breeds”, and still others are famous throughout history for their numerous interactions with humans.

What they really like to do is mess with humanity, tricking them and scaring them, sometimes even killing them. Thus they are seen as pests more than anything, as they are much easier to get rid of than the greater devils, and whole companies exist that promise to do exactly that!

Overlifers

The Overlifers are not allowed to live. These are humans who have made contracts with devils and took on numerous challenges to gain six lives, five more than anyone else. They are easy to spot with their eyeliner-like markings around their eyes and the curling marks on their cheeks, if you knew that that was what those markings meant. Their name is a portmanteau of the words “overdose” and “life.”

Overlifers are typically associated with leading crime organizations and terrorist groups such as the Disciples of Restoration. They can live for a very long time if they preserve their lives carefully, as aging is significantly slowed down until they reach their sixth life. They are generally more powerful than normal humans and that power can swell greatly if they train it enough, which is part of why they're illegal.

Not much else is known about them, but they are thought of as having incredibly irritating god complexes, so much so that it is common to jokingly ask someone who is acting perhaps more arrogantly than they should, “Have you received your six lives yet?” This isn’t entirely wrong.

Whoever dares to defy even the Allies themselves by gaining what is most certainly an unfair advantage towards them is probably a very, very terrible person...

Character List

Mary II: One very popular streamer with adoring fans and a not-so-adoring family. Strangely, she has no features of her devil ancestors, leading to her father calling her an angel constantly. Despite what her internet persona may display, she is very aware of whatever darkness her father runs and in fact may be a willing participant in it...

Anne: Was put in charge of discovering who murdered her uncle against her will. She’s not sure she likes what she’s finding. She’s aware that it’s sort of a wild goose chase when the murderer and his accomplices keep chasing her into dead ends, but out of defiance she’ll keep looking, if only to topple the leadership of the Disciples of Restoration once her suspicions are confirmed.

Charles II: The joyful leader of the infamous Disciples of Restoration! He ran it pretty well (as well as you can run criminals, anyway), and his mysterious death (that isn’t actually so mysterious) is the inciting incident of this universe. Stranger still was that as an Overlifer, he technically had three lives left on that night.

James II: The leader of the Disciples of Restoration after his brother’s death. He intends to preserve all of his lives very carefully, but Jimmy doesn’t always get his way. He also intends to actually carry out the vision that the Disciples always had in mind, but never really get around to doing it: unite the devils and humans under the rule of the Overlifers.

Maria Beatrice: One of the few women involved with the leadership of the Disciples, mostly because her husband leads it. She has the rare ability to control and summon anybody linked to the devils, even the devils and Allies themselves, which is infinitely useful to James. However, she despises the Overlifers for their defiance towards the devils and doesn’t believe in the authority of the Allies, instead looking to the ancient devils and even the dwaallichten for guidance.

Duke of Monmouth: A dwaallicht spirit who was taken in by Charles an Undetermined Period of Time ago. He can shapeshift into a variety of animals, but mostly presents as a human that takes more or less after the appearance of Charles. One of his favorite things to do as a spirit is wait by the entrances of houses and if you happen to forget anything as you exit, he’ll attack you. James finds this increasingly irritating.

William III: A secret Overlifer who holds the greatest power humanity may ever know, if only he knew how to harness it. He’s technically not a politician, just a guy with interesting opinions and a platform. He’s also the leader of the Devils of Orange-Nassau, which more or less has the same motivations as the Disciples except it’s William’s smarter, but no less violent, edition.

Hans William Bentinck: New Amsterdam’s newest Ally, associated with loyalty and honesty. If you want a faithful partner or a good friend, he’s the guy you pray to. Unlike most Allies, he tries to do his job as best as he can, despite only becoming an Ally at William’s urging. He’ll try to advise you as best as he can without a degree in psychology. One of his powers as an Ally is the ability to deliver a bite that can paralyze and knock you out before you even realize what happened.

Anne Villiers: One of the Ally Bentinck’s regulars and a slightly less popular streamer than her friend Mary. She’s no stranger to the things Mary is involved in and has more than once assisted her with the tasks James demands of her. She puts her faith in Bentinck most of all, the truest Ally there is...but surely he would never look at her the way she sees him. Does he even know her name?

John Churchill: A famous actor as well as a beloved Ally, associated with bravery for the many dramatic roles he has played. Technically he’s not supposed to be an Ally, but the authorities can let it slide for a celebrity like him. Less known are his associations with the Disciples of Restoration. He’s also surprisingly easy to kidnap, if anybody ever wanted to do that for some reason.

Arnold Joost van Keppel: An ancient and famous dwaallicht spirit that can disguise himself as a fox, or as a human with fox ears and a tail. The reason he’s famous is because he’s said to give you five years of life if you kiss him, ten if it’s on the mouth, and twenty if you sleep with him. That’s probably true, but you would have to find him first as he’s constantly on the run...and once you do, you have to make sure he doesn’t take all your remaining years first.

Louis XIV: A devil that refuses to submit to the will of the Allies! Rather than giving willing humans his powers, he regularly possesses human bodies and gets around that way. He’s looking for a way to bring back the authority of the devils, though it’s mostly just his. He just has to get rid of a few pesky Overlifers first.

That's all I have of this AU for now, if I were to write for it I would hope to publish it here or on ao3! And honestly I do hope to write for it because I have so many ideas for everyone listed here BUT WE SHALL SEE...........

[archiveikemen]

Abe no Yasuchika Main Story: Chapter 18

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting┊aikm’s Genjiden Glossary

Yoritomo-sama grinned.

Yoritomo: Come on out and lend me a hand — demon fox.

A roaring fire with blue flames emerged and engulfed Kazuha and Futaba.

When it disappeared without a sound, what was left behind were two charred hitogata lying on the floor.

Tamamo: Even an arrogant man like you would beg me, Yoritomo.

Yuno: Tamamo…!

Tamamo appeared and waved his hand nimbly.

Tamamo: I missed you so much that I came to personally pick you up, Yuno.

Yasuchika: — You’re here too, Tamamo.

Yasuchika: You’re as good at disguise as ever. I didn't even notice your presence.

Tamamo: I don't feel flattered by your compliment at all…

Tamamo: And I hate that you’re in my way.

With a snap of Tamamo’s fingers, a fog appeared and created some kind of smokescreen between us and Yasuchika-san.

Tamamo: You two can leave first, Yuno and Yoritomo.

Tamamo: I know what sort of tricks this man has up his sleeves, so I can at least hold him up.

Yoritomo: Understood. Tamamo, you return once you’re done here.

Tamamo: Of course. I’m looking forward to tonight’s dinner.

Yuno: Thank you… Tamamo.

Yoritomo-sama led me by the hand and we ran through the hallways.

Yoritomo: Get on.

Yuno: Okay!

Waiting for us at the back of the mansion was not an oxcart, but a horse.

It was obvious that Yoritomo-sama was prepared for the worst case scenario.

Riding on Yoritomo-sama’s horse in front of him, I looked back and watched as the mansion eventually went out of sight.

Yuno: What’s… going to happen now?

Yoritomo: I have secretly gathered troops in neighboring countries just in case.

Yoritomo: But I had to keep it low to avoid being noticed.

Yoritomo: Now we’re going to meet the troops and wait for Tamamo’s return.

Yuno: Oh…

I took a deep breath to get rid of my anxiety and sadness.

(Everyone has started making their moves. The least I can do is to give my best.)

(I won’t regret this.)

Yuno: I’ll prepare some medicine and bandages for the war once we arrive at camp.

Yoritomo: You… you’ve grown a lot tougher.

Yuno: Hm?

Yoritomo: When we confirmed that Yasuchika was an enemy, I was honestly prepared to no longer have any use for you.

Yoritomo: And yet, earlier on… you decided to fight Yasuchika despite feeling at your worst.

Yoritomo: Even now, I can tell that you’re holding back your tears by sheer willpower.

(... I really can't hide anything from Yoritomo-sama.)

Yuno: I may not always choose the “correct” path.

Yuno: I’ve made tons of bad decisions that resulted in myself getting hurt… but nevertheless, I want to be proud of myself for making those decisions and getting to where I am today.

(Even if all those words of affirmation Yasuchika-san said to me were lies.)

Yoritomo: — I see.

Yoritomo: You became a better woman while we were apart.

Yoritomo: How ironic. Living in Kyōto really sparked a change in you.

Yuno: … Is that so?

Yuno: Then I’m glad I didn't suffer for nothing.

Yoritomo: Indeed, and I can assure you on that.

Yoritomo: You should be proud of yourself, Yuno.

Yuno: Thank… Thank you.

There was a large gaping hole in my heart.

I kept moving forward, knowing that there was a chance that hole would never be filled again.

I believed that as long as I had my friends who trusted me… that unrequited love would burn into ashes.

…

We were greeted at the Shogunate’s camp…

Morinaga: Yuno! Yoritomo-sama!

(Morinaga-san!)

Yoritomo: You’ve worked hard.

Seeing Morinaga-san’s tall figure rush towards us made my heart feel warm.

Morinaga: I was so worried. I’m glad you’re both safe and sound.

Morinaga: Long time no see, Yuno.

Yuno: Yeah, long time no see… Morinaga-san.

Morinaga: I heard that you did an amazing job.

Yuno: Not really… I couldn't contribute much despite living with Yasuchika-san to investigate him.

Yoritomo: It's not easy to decipher all of Kyōto’s moves. Every piece of information you gave us was vital.

Yoritomo: With your tiny bits of information, Kagetoki can piece them together to create a bigger clue. You did your best, and that's enough.

Morinaga: Yoritomo-sama is right. Even Kagetoki was praising your efforts, and he rarely does that.

(I wish I could've done more.)

Yuno: Have Shigehira-kun and Kagetoki-san been well?

Morinaga: Of course.

Morinaga: Actually, Shigehira has been worried about you this entire time. But if I call him out for it, he’s quick to deny it.

Tamamo: And of course I was worried about Yuno too.

(Oh!)

Tamamo: I’m back.

His long hair fluttering in the wind, Tamamo arrived on horseback.

Yoritomo: Did it go well?

Tamamo: Of course it did. Who do you think I am?

Yuno: Tamamo… I’m so glad you’re safe.

I heaved a sigh of relief.

Yoritomo: Shigehira and Kagetoki are keeping their eyes on the Rebel Army’s movements. They will deploy reinforcements if necessary.

Yoritomo: Morinaga, what's the current situation?

Morinaga: Our troops have been deployed to form an ambush around the anti-Shogunate faction.

Morinaga: However, our key figure, “His Majesty”, managed to escape.

(They must be referring to Akihito-sama. But why “His Majesty”...?)

Morinaga: This is confidential information, but—

Morinaga: Our soldiers reported back saying that when “His Majesty” commanded them to stop moving, their bodies instantly felt heavy as if they had frozen.

Morinaga: Also… there was a blonde man who was alongside “His Majesty”, and he possessed supernatural powers.

Yuno: … Ibuki.

(I remember he told me to think of him as a sorcerer from a foreign country for simplicity’s sake.)

Tamamo: I know that man.

Yuno: What?

Tamamo: Shuten Dōji — the 1200 year old Demon King.

Yuno: Demon!?

Tamamo: While I was at Yasuchika’s mansion, I found traces of a familiar magic power.

Yoritomo: A demon living in the Abe Clan’s mansion? That’s wild.

(No wonder I didn't suspect anything.)

Yuno: I can’t believe Ibuki’s an ayakashi.

Yoritomo: Yasuchika’s other housemate is a rather big guy too.

Yoritomo: Sutoku – Akihito. The former emperor.

Yoritomo: However, he’s supposed to be dead.

(What the…)

(— He’s a living spirit.)

Yuno: I heard that Akihito-sama was sealed in the Abe Clan’s mansion, which led to him becoming a living spirit.

I hesitantly told them the stories about his past that I had heard from Yasuchika-san and Ibuki.

(I don’t like talking out of turn… but I can’t keep silent any longer.)

Yoritomo: There are rumors that Emperor Sutoku died while spreading a curse all over Japan.

Yoritomo: I always thought that those were mere superstitions, but it seems that they're real.

Morinaga: So that's who “His Majesty” is.

(I had the feeling Akihito-sama was of noble birth, but I didn't expect him to be of THAT kind of noble birth.)

(... And of course, Yasuchika-san and the others kept this important detail from me.)

Tamamo: Based on my judgment, Ibuki has made a deal with Sutoku.

Yuno: …!

Tamamo: I’m certain that His Majesty has the power of an ayakashi.

Tamamo: The traces of Ibuki’s powers lingering in that mansion were a little different.

Tamamo: I’ve never heard of such a thing before, but…

Tamamo: The curse Sutoku was born with must have altered Ibuki’s powers, because their souls are connected.

Yuno: So… Yoshitsune-sama and I aren't the only ones who’ve made a deal with an ayakashi.

Yoritomo: What type of powers does Ibuki have?

Tamamo: Lightning. And because he’s a demon, he also has incredible strength.

Tamamo: On top of that, Ibuki is a heartless demon who finds joy in mentally torturing human beings.

Tamamo: His powers being weakened by the deal doesn't make him any less troublesome.

Yoritomo: Hah, that’s good news.

Even in times like this, Yoritomo-sama’s fake laugh felt assuring.

Yoritomo: Our spies will continue to monitor the movements of Ibuki and His Majesty.

Yoritomo: Tomorrow, I will lead an army into Kyōto and seize control of the Imperial Court.

Yoritomo: We’ll call it… freeing the Imperial Court from the hands of their evil ruler “Sutoku”.

Morinaga: So the plan is to gain the support of the anti-Sutoku faction in the Imperial Court.

Yoritomo: As long as we are the writers of the story, I don't care who the characters are.

Yoritomo: But the Shogunate will definitely be the main characters.

The determined look in Yoritomo-sama’s eyes instantly made everyone feel motivated.

(He's the polar opposite of Yasuchika-san.)

(Yasuchika-san’s eyes sometimes look empty, and sometimes they seem to be filled with darkness.)

There was a stabbing pain in my heart when I recalled the final icy gaze he gave me before we parted.

(I can't let myself get distracted. I have things to do.)

After the military council meeting, I spent some time going around the camp.

While I was gathering herbs to prepare for tomorrow…

(Huh?)

Suddenly, the moon was covered and an ominous darkness loomed over me.

???: It’s been a while, Young Lady.

Doman: I was right, wasn't I? Yasuchika turned out to be a traitor.

Yuno: … Ashiya Doman.

A man with masculine features who looked neither young nor old stood before me.

Doman: That man would kill all of your friends without hesitation if it meant that he would achieve his goals.

Doman: Don’t you think you’ll need another weapon besides your fox powers?

I glanced down at the item he held out… it was the dagger he showed me that day.

(It's a cursed object capable of taking Yasuchika-san’s powers away.)

I suppressed my fear and looked straight at Doman.

Yuno: But why me?

Doman: Being able to easily spot someone's weakness is what makes me a brilliant tactician.

Yuno: Are you saying that I’m Yasuchika-san’s weakness? If yes, then you're wrong.

(Yasuchika-san even attacked me today.)

Doman: Oh really? But too bad.

Doman: I’ve already made you the rightful owner of this dagger, and its curse won’t work if not in the hands of its owner.

The dagger drifted to me in the air and suddenly dropped,

(Wah…)

I reflexively reached out to catch it.

Yuno: I don't want to—

Doman: If you don't want to do it, then just keep the dagger and don't use it.

Doman: It's haress if not used by you. If you don't believe me, go ahead and ask that nine-tailed fox.

(I know better than anyone else that my abilities alone aren't enough to defeat Yasuchika-san.)

Yuno: What is your motive? Why do you so badly want Yasuchika-san dead?

Yuno: Yasuchika-san is not Abe no Seimei whom you have a feud with.

Doman: Blood is thicker than water. Yasuchika is the Abe Clan’s magnum opus, of course I hate him.

Doman: And that mindset he has… it makes me want to defeat him and swallow him whole.

Yuno: Mindset…?

Doman: It's the same for everyone who practices yin-yang magic.

Doman: Only when one sacrifices everything except themselves, that they can grow more powerful.

Yuno: … But I think Onmyō magic is an amiable force used to help others in need.

Doman: That's your false perception of it.

Doman: Is that how Yasuchika always behaved in front of you?

Doman: Wow, it really runs in the family.

While I stood at a loss for words, Doman gave a crooked smile.

Doman: Anyway, I don't have much time to waste.

Yuno: Huh?

Morinaga: Hey! Yuno!

Yuno: Morina—

The moment I got distracted…

(Doman… disappeared.)

Morinaga-san approached me and tilted his head curiously.

Morinaga: What’s up with that dagger, Yuno?

(Erm.)

Yuno: It's a long story… I’ll tell you another time.

Yuno: Did you need something?

Morinaga-san’s face turned serious.

Morinaga: We managed to locate Sutoku… I mean His Majesty.

Yuno: …! Where is he?

Morinaga: He has formed an alliance with the Rebel Army.

(What the—)

…

Akihito: The supreme commander himself took the trouble to travel all the way to Kyōto, hm.

Yoshitsune: You’re a lot better at escaping than you look… Your Majesty.

[saucylittlesmile]

Saucy I'm reading this interview with Rettstatt and I'm fuming. It seems to me that what they're doing is trying to make ice dance as meme-able, as tiktok-y as possible. It's like they're catering to a general crowd that isn't invested in skating at the end of the day at the expense of the long-time fans. We have an over-saturation of pop or should we say "low" culture rn. Personally I watch skating to see something more elevated once in a while too. "Open hold" is my supervillain origin story.

I tracked down the interview for a read myself (via google translate). (Of all people it’s Rettstatt…… 🙄)

I don’t mind the idea of the theme so much. The OD and the SD were based on themes - that’s how VM skated to ‘the 20’s’ in 2008/2009 (and the options included the 30s and 40s too!) and how we ended up with programs as diverse as Samuelson/Bates hoe down and Davis/White’s Bollywood and VM’s Farrucas and yet also the hideous Domnina/Shabalin monstrosity in 2009/2010, all under an umbrella of ‘folk/country’. While the 80s as a theme is new, the 80s itself is both forty years in the past and experiencing a resurgence in popularity. Appealing to younger skaters and audiences isn’t in itself a bad thing; without either of them, the sport ceases to exist after all. And while obviously ice dance’s origins were based on ballroom, I don’t mind that they’re exploring other styles of dance.

Where my personal irk with the current trend of ice dance lies is with the removal of difficulty and technique. Not all themes or styles will lend themselves to closed holds or partnering, but then, not all ballroom dances translated well to the ice either; but to discard the importance of holds and step sequences and replace them with things like ‘character!!!’ or sliding on the ice or insisting they stop in place to dance, rather than expecting skaters to be able to actually skate (together) is what is destroying ice dance to me. It can take a creative choreographer and certainly not all skaters will be able to achieve outstanding programs, but that’s why it gets marked.

I took out some of the translated quotes:

Moreover, we do not set strict limits: let it be Madonna, Michael Jackson, Cyndi Lauper or the duet “Wham!”. Different countries had their own popular music at that time - and that's great. After all, the main thing is to get a truly dance program. If the skaters have chosen a composition that the judges or the public do not perceive as dancing, then they made a mistake with the choice.

Therefore, even if we hear a song for the first time, but it is from the 80s and it is danceable (because we are talking about rhythm dance with you, let's not forget about it) - it will be understood and felt everywhere, I'm sure of it .

Depending on any other requirements the ISU decides upon, there could indeed be a crazy range of program music and vibe. But there are already rules in place about how any music must have a rhythm/beat (including specifying that classical music has a beat), so unless he’s trying to imply that everyone needs to have a program that will have the audience bopping in their seats, or else it isn't ‘danceable’ is a weird take.

Of course, they [coaches] are fully included in this process - especially this year. We started discussions at the beginning of autumn and have been exchanging views on this matter for almost half a year.

For example, one of the innovations in rhythm dance for the next season is a response to a request from athletes and coaches. We had quite a long meeting in the series “this was great, but this didn’t work at all.”

I was hoping this was about the lack of a pattern, but then he went on to talk about juniors, and then finally this:

Adult dancers won't have this [version of junior suggestion]?

No. Although we also prepared something new for them - a choreographic element of a dance pattern (in the original Pattern Dance Choreographic Element - Sports.ru). I emphasize once again: for now, these are only suggestions, it has not been officially approved, but in fact, we will return to the rhythm dance the pattern that everyone is used to.

The only thing is that it will not necessarily be evaluated by levels. Let's put it this way: most likely it will have to be perceived by the judges as a choreo element. So we are preparing something new; let's see how it will be in practice.

That is, this season in rhythm dance we have a choreo track, next season there will be something like a choreo pattern, and then we can decide what to keep from it. We will have the experience of two seasons - and we will get the reaction directly from the dancers and their coaches. It is important for us to hear their opinion: what was more interesting for them to do from a choreographic point of view.

Aside from me being a little confused, how I’m reading that is basically - a return to how the judges used to mark the compulsory dances, which in theory was how well it was done, but in reality was ordinal judging, aka the ‘we liked it better’ or any other cynical version of judging. On on hand, it would at least in part return us to patterns, but on the other, it seems like just another step backwards and downwards into judging that has little to do with what happening with blade on ice.

Before that, we heard many times that juniors (and their coaches) like the pattern and they would like to keep it - because it helps to develop skills, but adult skaters … I won’t say that they are against it, but they didn’t like the level system on pattern because it limited their creativity and imagination.

I mean, the weird thing about the pattern as it was in the short/rhythm dance, is that it focused so much on a few specific pieces - an edge, a turn - and cared to little about the rest, that I don’t blame the skaters for not enjoying training it. But seeing the state of the senior skaters coming through, I’d say that they still need to work on those skills. :/

– You and your colleagues go to all the official trainings of dancers during tournaments. For what? At training sessions for single skaters, for example, you will not always meet judges.

It's interesting that you asked about this - because we just started discussing with colleagues whether it is necessary for us to do this, haha.

In fact, representatives of the panel of judges and the chief referee of the competition do not just sit at official training. We need to know what elements this or that duet is going to perform so that in the competitive box office we have an understanding of how it should look in the idea. This helps when setting levels per element.

And even this does not always save us, by the way: sometimes on the day of the competition we are in for surprises - we still see some elements for the first time. At the same time, the technical panel should evaluate not the original idea, but what it sees in competitive box office.

Tessa was talking about this a bit recently, in that she and Scott deliberately chose to attend more practices in regular gear rather than costumes and to avoid having the hair and make up that go with it (of course even more for the women).

But yes, it’s good for the judges to know what to expect, when, in a program, but it’s pretty sad he has to specify that judges should be marking what is competed, rather than on what they did in practice, lok - it’s almost like momentum and reputation are issues in figure skating .🙄

[zee-man-chatter]

looks like you monarchy stans are getting a lot of anon hate since I made fun of one of you in a post, but I can't say I feel bad about it. They are correct: monarchists are completely evil and destructive, there isn't anything cool, interesting, fun or admirable about any of the British royal family, and your obsessiveness over this "Megan" looks extremely weird and unsettling. What exactly did she do that you're pissing in your tea about?

Fair question. So for the constitutional monarchy, you have the crown in Britain, but Governors General in commonwealth countries. They aren't there to be fun, but I disagree about evil and destructive. They are there to support the people of the UK and commonwealth. Historically, the British have always loved their Kings, and this goes back more than 1000 years ago. As for interesting and admirable? I'll tell you something about when slavery ended. A triumvirate was set up to make payments to the slave owners so the slaves freedom could be bought. When this commission ended, the King paid for a very expensive, pure silver trophy to be awarded to the head of the panel. This is both a political and monetary statement. The King is also head of the Anglican Church of England, so he or she is not just a political leader, but a spiritual one as well. The BRF isn't perfect, they've made mistakes, some bad, but they have tried to adjust to modern life, and if the British people didn't want them, then I think the institution would wind down.

But to the point of Meghan Markle. Harry was loved before she came along, but obviously not now. She has lied to everyone, including herself incessantly, and people are fed up. Probably the crowd here is someone obsessive over her, but there are groups on other sites too, some you might not be aware of. The main pissoff is that Markle lies constantly, insults our intelligence and takes us all for a bunch of stupid mugs. But she's not a chess player or tactician, so she's failing, and people here of course want to see her fail. People loved Lady Diana because she was honest and empathetic, she was truly loved. Markle has tricked Harry into thinking that she's Diana 2.0 and that Harry has to protect her. People aren't stupid, and aren't falling for the manipulation, they want this charade to fail and end. They want to see Harry back with his family, and the endless spew of Markle press releases come to an end. I do think you asked a good question, because I can understand it looking a bit odd. Hope that helps.

[myinternetcorner]

stargaters are evil,and not sugar coated lies

first,these intelligent,but emotionless bastards became gods when they fucked their minds into fragments and of course used gates of devil in Mars,the fragmated splitted parts became new people,or rather say remberence parts if people who did stargate,the worst parts of them their made replicas and clones to convince stupid and very naive personell that they are gods,classical called as god,in religion.Be it blues,or any form of dominant evil and hater of every god(so this is like there is blue,but the worst form is Shiv,there is Yahve,the worst form of Lucifer,the both are masked singers play,they play to promote stargaters stupid and downright evil ideology,they are gods if they make god like performance!)In other words,the Daniel fragmated,Sara Gardner too,the ti lac is not just holographic projector,but also false followers of these evil and obssesed with torture and no end.They posses the old torture weapons,the neural hand,the neural metal part to control victim,they also posses rings of evil,to feed old evil half dead peronell,also they posses the eye of dead evil looker,the monitoring ball with eye with main thing is to control and manipulate,essentially to tottaly control the victim!They also posses old grenades,old projectiles(usually old transmitters of lethargy(also know amplituted lethargy).The Nazi,them!The old society just moved through stargates as fragmated parts to gain control of every personell,to convince old stupid leaders to give them the money tech thing,and they started the cloning,predominantly then were old Yahve(jesuits),the false knowledge who even bulit new era of slavery and dominant evil ideology to consume bloodshed.They thrive on torture and bloodshed,consuming blood,consuming everybody,essentially they all had agreements with old matrix devil who thought he is the best because he knew cloning and fucking knew who to steal everybody to make real against false.They all knew this is old country,and they all made false human knowledge!The last thing on their minds is the true nature of humanity,they all want to be vampiric and devils themselves.So,called Andrew is not the human himself,he actually made all cloners to be like the one ruler on this no fucking society that profits over torture,sacrifice,and guess what the old Andrew is the first and last thing in the bible,the devil bible is Daniel,the snakes made every religious book,they are essentially nazi and love to control humanity in every step.So,god equalls here as lie to generally manipulate society,not what they love to sell you.The every thing in society is controlled,the clones have adherence to the maker,who is usually the maker.Guess,who is the Maker in this society,Andrew,the cloner!So,they set up,everything,and then say the cause of of all suffering is something?But,it was all part of scam!They knew,they allowed,they all wanted to do this!So,the matrix bio lab computer,the stargaters controlled a lot,the old devil that no fuck gained manipulation,you believe,you lose,because they want the false,sugar coated lies!The human legue and human(monster legaue),the short handed devil performed do much projects,be it cloning,all to be Java(or better say water loo abortion too!)The god baller is the devil himself,he never had children,only clones,fake,nothing real!Fucking baller first lied and manipulated,now everybody believes in what,an eye,not full human,or being,just eye!Fucking stargate fundementation!Probably they all run the show!But,more like puppetry show!They all are part of lawless lawful only one who can control,(often Johnathan bullshitter).Now,looking the stars,they are magnetic antichrist Johnathan eyes balls,not real stars!The fallen are other words the ones who killed themselves in process in their machine,not betrayed god or anything with god!The Bible,or any religious text is to decieve fully religious humans!The question is,is the god just illeu for grand mechanic human,or nothingness something?Not,it's the cheese grater simulation by old farts,they all know what they can't know,so they all make these stupid tests!