#so. back to armistice day ....

[vidavalor]

How do you think the Ineffable Husbands reacted to the 1914 Christmas Armistice?

Also, it is autumn now and very cloudy and soggy, so here is a seasonally-appropriate recipe: https://www.hairybikers.com/recipes/view/caramelised-apple-cheesecake

Aw, a recipe! You're lovely. 😊 That looks amazing!

I envy you being in one firm season over there. September is a transition month here in New England. Half-summer, half-fall. It's very strange, though, not terrible. One day is lemonade and watermelon and the next is where's my blanket? and I need an apple something and looking up what day Bake Off starts to air over here. Another week, though, and it'll be pretty much fall from here on out. Definitely going to make that cheesecake. 😊

I think they probably reacted to the Christmas Armistice the same way many of us do when we learn about it-- that it's both beautiful and morbidly depressing at once. It showed people coming together to express a sense of shared humanity but then they went back to killing one another afterwards. It wasn't a new story for Crowley and Aziraphale because they had seen that in people all throughout history but I'm sure they found the same mix of hopefulness and sadness in it that a lot of people do.

The one who understands what it takes to bring about peace now best in the series is actually Gabriel, imho. It's because he understood the deeper meaning of Sandalphon's words that Sandalphon didn't actually understand himself: "you can't have a war without war."

Some short thoughts on ties between war, frozen peas, and one of my favorite of Agnes Nutter's prophecies beneath the cut.

When Sandalphon said: "you can't have a war without war", what he meant was: "Look how clever I think I am to use this word twice in two ways in one sentence! You can't have a war without War: The Character! Mirelle Enos is playing a character that shares a name with large-scale killing and destruction and I pointed it out! I'm so smart!"

Gabriel, though, heard the potential of bigger ideas: "You can't have a war (a large-scale military conflict) without war (people willing to fight in a war and, also, a person's inner struggle leading them to be willing to fight in war)."

Meaning: A war can only happen if people are willing to fight the war.

Meaning: No soldiers, no war.

Gabriel knew Aziraphale heard it like that, too, and was like lol Aziraphale, this guy thinks he's a poet omg let me flatter him enough that he won't notice that I just tried to help you sell more erotica and didn't murder you for having a lover and then we'll get out of here...

Gabriel saying that he "might use that one day" about what Sandalphon says is a line that-- delightfully-- ages quite differently the more we get to know Gabriel.

We know he said it in that moment to make it sound like he was telling Sandalphon that what Sandalphon had said was just so profound that Gabriel was tempted to use it himself... but we also know that Gabriel is neither as dumb nor as vapid as he strategically lets people think he is and that he understood the deeper way of looking at what Sandalphon said more than Sandalphon did.

Looking back on it, it's Gabriel actually joking about mutinying in front of Heaven's most fervent Metatron-worshipping fascist in a way that is very much going over Sandalphon's head. Gabriel is all can't have a war without war-- yeah, true dat, Stasi a Fond. I'm slowly losing it over here and my favorite fantasy is just peacing out entirely of this whole 'Commander of The Heavenly Host' shit and wouldn't that really completely eff up The Ineffable Plan? Oh, my secret daydream... if only I could...

Then, what happens, though, by the end of S1?

Gabriel sees a kid do just that.

The eleven year old spawn of Satan is all yeah, no, you can't have a war without war. I don't want to start a war. I like the world. I've got enough on my plate dealing with my own life-- I don't want to rule over everyone. I want everyone to feel at peace and be happy and take care of each other.

Gabriel was freaked out because of the consequences of this and the fact that he, at the the time, thought The Metatron might kill him for failing to start Armageddon but, after the day was over and Gabriel had a moment to breathe and think about it, you can't tell me he didn't hear Adam saying that it was too much pressure to be in charge of every other living being in existence and he just wanted to chill with the people he liked and live his own life in peace and let everyone else do that, too and think to himself:

Yeah, kid. Me too.

The dude who is told he's responsible for everyone in Heaven and who sees angels falling as partly his fault and whom the humans deify and to whom they make statues was like fucking hell, the little antichrist brat was right.

He realized that it's not about Armageddon, it's about living and building a life until you have all the world you need. It's about what Crowley and Aziraphale have been trying to do and about what he and Beez were as well. Gabriel's proposal to Beez is a simple one:

What if, instead of Armageddon, there was no Armageddon?

What if, instead of war, there's no war?

So, he ended up fulfilling his own prophecy a bit when the one day came when he used what Sandalphon said-- just not in the way that Sandalphon meant it but in the way that Gabriel himself and Aziraphale heard it: you can't have a war without war... no war exists if enough people refuse to fight it.

That's the way to stop Armageddon.

Gabriel came to realize that the best thing he could do as a leader in Heaven and commander of its armed forces was to refuse to fight, come what may. He quits the army and defects to the embassy of the only independent country that exists in the supernatural world: the United States of Crowley and Aziraphale.

As Agnes said:

...the calm cometh when Redde and Whyte and Black and Pale approache to Peas is Our Professioune.

In this case: Redde/Red (Crowley), Whyte/White (Aziraphale), Black (Beez), Pale (Gabriel). To profess: to state. Peas = the talking of frozen peas because homophone: peace.

The calm cometh when Crowley, Aziraphale, Beez and Gabriel talk and each get closer to their own peace and to peace with one another and help each other to spread that mentality throughout all those willing in Heaven and Hell and Earth.

That's what you feed the other ducks-- your frozen peas. Your own stuff that is disturbing your own inner peace and creating inner wars and small-scale conflicts that, if left unchecked, can build into larger-scale ones.

If you break that shit down and talk about it, there needn't be any war.

Sometimes, it means shedding some armor, keeping an open mind, and admitting that you were wrong-- all things that can be difficult...

...especially for those are secretly tender-hearted but put up that armor to survive in worlds steeped in toxic masculinity...

...and, sometimes, it's maddening because people are scared and get set in their ways and do dumb shit and you have to upend power structures and reinforce more positive behaviors to get them to shut up long enough to start listening to one another...

...but the more who learn to unlearn the harmful stuff at the core of their own struggles and who open their minds up to listening to others, the more we're professing our peas to our fellow ducks and getting closer to peace within ourselves and within the world as a whole and that's what it's all about. It might always be approaching Peas is Our Professioune rather than a perfectly peaceful world but the point is the effort of the approach and to just keep making steady progress as much as we can while we're walking the Earth. After all...

[loulouwrites]

PROSE . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: alfie found comfort in her letters during his darkest moments, even if they were never meant for him warnings: angst, war, death, ptsd, a bit of politics, happy ending, unedited for now word count: 2.2k a/n: a short lil story x

Lieutenant Adam Weiss would read those letters over and over, a smile on his muddy face whenever he pulled the envelopes from his pockets, almost as if the words made him forget where he was.

The letters were creased and the envelopes were worn, mud caked the sides and gritty fingerprints decorated the edges from where he would run his hand down the pages. Some of the letters were longer than others, ranging from one page to four, front and back.

Captain Alfie Solomons watched the boy pull out a fresh letter, amazed he received so many. Delivering letters to frontline soldiers was not a priority in the war, nor should it be, men waited months for notes from their family, but somehow, Adam always received his - he must have been the luckiest lad in France.

People didn't write to Alfie.

His parents were long gone, his sisters had husbands they would rather scribble away to, and the few friends he had were scattered throughout Europe, fighting the same fight he was - one none of them quite understood.

Adam's smile felt like an assault on the captain, the grin he wore reminiscent of a time before, a time that didn't exist anymore. The lieutenant had never shared who the letters were from, he kept them tucked into his breast pocket, only pulling them out when everybody else was busied with other, more important tasks.

"Who's writing you these letters?" Alfie asked the boy, trying to stretch his legs the best he could in the cramped quarters below ground.

Adam's grin faded from his face, and he shrugged non-committally, tucking the letter away.

"Just a girl I know," he said, face bashful.

"A girl you know," Alfie nodded. He was surprised he had never met Adam before the war, they were both raised in the same area, both Jewish, of a similar age, yet their paths had never crossed. "A pretty girl?"

"Just a girl," Adam scowled, crossing his arms across his chest.

The sound of gunfire interruped whatever Alfie was about to say next.

Lieutenant Adam Weiss succumbed to injuries sustained in the battlefield two weeks before the armistice was signed. He died at the age of 24, with a hole in his head, and even more in the chest.

Alfie didn't feel much when he died, there had been so much death that he feared he had become immune to it, and he was never particularly close to the man. Yet, it didn't stop him from taking the letters from the dead man's pocket before his body was dragged away.

He had no intention of reading the letters that were now kept in his own breast pocket, he wasn't even sure why he took them in the first place, but the weight of them comforted him.

More letters arrived the day after Adam died, a small envelope addressed to him at the bottom of the pile, and Alfie took that one too, snatching it from the boy who delivered them before he could question it.

It was a lot quieter these days, men were being picked off one by one, and those that were still alive, found little to talk about. At first, they would joke about finally being away from their wives, or make lewd comments about the nurses, but now, there was nothing, it was if they couldn't remember their lives before.

Alfie opened the letter before he could stop himself, the cursive handwriting was so neat, not a word had been crossed out, suggesting the author had taken their time with every word, possibly rewriting it completely whenever she made a mistake, a showing of her care, not just for the letters, but for Adam too.

He carefully read the well wishes and pleasantries. The one page letter was not particularly engaging or poetic, but the talk of day to day life in London was comforting to Alfie in the most painful way.

His eyes led to the bottom of the page, where the writing got slightly messy, and the words were slanted more than they were in the beginning.

Revolution is in the air, and peace is on the horizon. You will be home soon, hopefully before the month draws to a close, and we will celebrate your birthday together, as we have always done.

The slaughter will end, and you will be home.

Your dearest, and only friend.

She didn't sign it, there was no need to, he supposed, the letter was not for him, it was for the boy dead on the battlefield, and he already knew her name.

Alfie scoffed as he reread her words.

The slaughter will end.

Bullshit.

The armistice was signed less than two weeks later. The girl from the letters was right, the slaughter had ended and peace had come - though the men returning were forever changed.

Alfie wondered whether word about Adam had reached her, it should have by now. He considered tracking her down and telling her himself, he was the boy's captain, after all, but he had no fight in him to search for a nameless girl in London - he was tired.

The journey to London was long, they had heard them like cattle onto boats and trains, the men silently sitting in their misery, no celebration to be had.

The time allowed Alfie to read the other letters he had been carrying. He read them in no particular order, skimming through the cursive writing, more to distract himself from the sadness filling the train carriage, than anything else.

Mr Feldman brought me flowers again, he thinks I'm his dead wife.

Your mother came over for shabbat, she cried a lot.

I still go to the bakery we used to go after school, the bread isn't as nice now that Issaac isn't there to make it.

James proposed to me - again. It is the fifth time I have declined. He doesn't understand why I have no intention to marry a ten year old.

The girl talked a lot about what was happening at home, Alfie appreciated that, other than well wishes and the odd scathing political rant, she rarely mentioned the war, the men reading letters didn't need reminding of the war, the needed to be reminded of home.

Life returned to a new normal in the years following the war. Alfie was able to forget the war better than most, maybe because the violence didn't end for him. He went from a war in France to a war in London, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

Tensions rose, men died, and Alfie survived - as it was, as it always would be.

He sat in his office a lot, when everybody had left for the day, he would pull out the stack of letters from the second drawer of his desk, and read them over again, as if he couldn't recite them word for word at his point.

He had a favourite, one that was now more creased than the others, and had more bends in the edges, read far more often than others.

I had an argument with my mother, again. I shall not bore you with the details, but I am certain the war will end soon, that the trend sweeping the East will come here and you shall return home.

We will go to Abraham's bakery the day you step off the train and eat the pineapple cake you like so much, we will then go to Finsbury Gardens and spend the rest of the day there, and we shall end the day at the pub, I haven't been allowed in without my male companion.

May you remain safe and well, and may you return home soon.

Your only and closest friend.

The girl was not a particularly poetic writer, yet Alfie was more enthralled by her prose than he ever had been by Shakespeare or Austin, because alone in the dark of his office, he could lie to himself, and believe those letters were for him.

He fiddled with the papers in his hand as he stood outside of the bakery. It had just opened, and people ushered in and out, their eyes avoiding his.

He had built quite the reputation for himself upon his return.

The bell above the door dinged when he walked in, and the lady at the counter looked away from the customer she was serving to wave at him.

He hovered behind the girl in front as she chatted to the woman, laughing and pointing to various cakes and pastries.

"Sir?" The woman waved a hand up and down to get his attention, and Alfie snapped out of whatever daze he was in, clearing his throat out of embarrassment.

"Urm...yeah," he muttered, looking down at the paper in his hands. He could recite this letter word for word, why couldn't he remember the cake now?

The baker and customer watched him as his eyes flickered to the page and back up to smile apologetically at them.

"I can help," the girl smiled at him, holding a hand out for the letter. "I'm a good reader."

She thought he couldn't fucking read.

"I can read," he defended, and she held her hands up jokingly. His eyes skimmed the words, failing to find the one he needed.

What kind of fucking cake was it?

And why did he even fucking care?

"For fuck's sake," he muttered, holding the letter out to the girl. "There's a type of cake in there, can you find it?"

She let out a small laugh as she took the paper with a smile on her face. He watched as she began to read it thoughtfully, her smile slowly dropping from her face and her eyebrows pulled together. Her head snapped up, and she held the letter up, a scowl on her face.

"Where did you get this?" Her tone wasn't something Alfie could place, a mixture between shock and confusion, and something else entirely.

He was never one to be lost for words, but he couldn't string a sentence together for the life of him, what the fuck was happening?

He must have been quiet for too long, because the girl fled the bakery, brushing his shoulder as she pushed past him, the letter still in her hand.

His favourite letter.

His body reacted quicker than his brain did, and he rushed after her, jogging to catch up with her as she stormed down the street.

"Oi," he called out when he was close enough for her to hear, "give me my fuckin' letter back."

She stopped in her tracks, spinning around to face him, pushing a hand to his chest when he was close enough to touch.

"It is not your letter," she spat. "Where did you get it?"

"The fuck are you chattin' about? You stole it from me."

"And you stole it from Adam," the girl shrieked, turning to storm away again, but Alfie was faster, grabbing her arm to stop her.

"Fuckin' hell," he smiled despite himself. "You're the girl from the letters."

"Who the fuck are you?" She cried, pulling her arm out of his grip.

"My name is Alfie Solomons," he held his arms out in defense, watching as her eyes widened at his introduction.

He really did have a reputation.

"I was Adam's captain in France," he reached down to take the letter from her hand, and she didn't put up a fight when he pulled it from her grip. "I took the letters off Adam when he died."

"Why?" She whispered, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"Couldn't tell ya, love," he shrugged. "Maybe because they made him very happy."

Her face scrunched up as if she were in pain at his words, and she breathed a deep breath to quell the tears in her eyes.

"They made him happy?" She breathed out, Alfie nodding in confirmation.

"It was annoying, really," he joked. "They made me happy too, even if I did steal 'em."

She huffed a laugh in response, dabbing at her eyes with her gloved hands before gesturing to letter he now held in his hands.

"Keep it," she sighed. "It was pineapple cake, by the way."

She went to turn away, but Alfie spoke before she could.

"Tell me to fuck off if you want, but would you fancy goin' to Finsbury Gardens?"

She looked at him blankly, and Alfie was certain she was going to say no, to tell him to fuck off with his letter and leave her alone.

"Okay," she nodded eventually. "But only if you take me to the pub after, I need a new male companion."

"It'd be my pleasure, love."

[tommyxgrace-always]

Peace - 11th hour - Grace!!

In s6 finale, when the bell chimes, Tommy looks at his watch and says “11th hour. Armistice. Peace atlast”.

I was aware of Armistice day (end of war) but only recently found out that 11 am was the exact time WW1 officially ended on that day.

And my Tommy - Grace shipping brain immediately found a correlation of 11th hour with Grace!! Peaky’s use of symbolism blows my mind!! The show always made it clear he only felt at Peace with Grace, here’s a compilation of ALL subtle and not so subtle references to this.

S1:

THE MOST OBVIOUS. He tells Grace, “I dont hear the shovels anymore” and the morning after we see him sleep like a baby, warm and peaceful.

S1:

During Soldier’s minute speech, we see he is thinking of Grace and their time together. When he looks at his watch it says 11.01

11.00 signifies peace for him but now that Grace will be gone, he passed his moment of peace. Thus the watch shows “one minute past 11”. Now he prepares to continue fighting the war both inside and outside.

S2:

Post Charlie Chaplin date, Tommy and Grace are back at Ada’s. While kissing, Grace says “it’s too late Thomas” to which he says “it’s 11.00 Grace”. Now as audience, we understand Grace is due to be back by midnight, so plotwise it gave us a sense of time. But symbolically, 11 represents his time of peace and Grace is with him at that moment.

S3:

During his wedding toast he says “to love, to peace to marriage”. He looks at Grace when he says “peace”

S4:

When the family is back at Arrow house, Arthur announces he is staying and then proceeds to raise a toast “our enemies are gone, war’s over. To peace.”, Tommy doesn’t raise his glass and just stares blankly. He looks uncomfortable, he is aware his peace is already gone, he will just be empty. Few minutes before the toast scene the camera zooms past everyone in his house, Grace’s picture is at one of the corner tables with a lamp. It easily catches the eye when we see the scene.

Adding one more..

Thanks @korinthya for pointing it out.

In s6, the bell chime at 11 am, marked the end of war trauma for Tommy (confirmed by SK in an interview). It’s interesting that he found that peace in 11th year after Grace’s death.

[napoleonic-sexyman-tournament]

Hello sillies! I'm back with more fun facts about Bagration (and also an anti-propaganda for his wife Catherine Bagration)

It makes me very sad to see the two in this confrontation! I love them both very much and I think that in another context they would get along well because they are also curly fellas, but let me tell you something curious, Bagration and Murat got to know each other! In a very curious way, let's say that it was a form of flirtation, a flirtation that was done by Bagration himself, who, the very clever one, praised Murat in a meeting before Austerlitz so that he would accept a false armistice (Murat was also easy to influence. through praise, so Bagration knew how to take advantage of the situation).

Unfortunately, I would like to give more information about what happened between the two, but in my book it only mentions that, that Murat, under the influence of Bagration's flirtation, willingly accepted the armistice (did you know that, @joachimnapoleon ? Hehehe)

These are details that I said in my previous blurb, he is also with Lannes, who days ago I found his book written by Margaret that gave me more details of their meeting. Jean was not in a good mood because he did not like being under Murat's command because he considered him mediocre and when the Russian officers were invited to the barracks for dinner, Lannes chose, of all people, Bagration to form a conversation with him and Jean's opinion of Bagration was that he was someone who was an expert at what he did, not like some buffoonish soldiers present.

(Bagration was terrible at speaking and understanding French! I wonder what language they communicated in)

Here i left you a fragment extracted from both topics:

“Prince Bagration was a most agreeable man; he knew so well how to flatter Murat that the latter, taken in in his turn by the Russian general, eagerly accepted the armistice in spite of remarks of Lannes, who wished to fight.” The armistice was concluded on conditions that the Russians would leave Austrian territory, while the French would remain in Moravia. Both sides agreed to give four-hour notice before resuming hostilities. The armistice was to sent to Napoleon and Kutuzov for ratification. In the meantime, the French invited the Russian officers to their headquarters for a dinner. Bagration met Marshal Lannes there and the two spoke for some time. Lannes told him, if he had been commanding the troops, they would have been fighting by now." —The Lion of the Russian army, Alexander Mikaberidze.

«Bagration's rear-guard was not the only weapon in Kutuzov's arsenal. He decided to rum the armistice mse against its original perpetrators. While Bagration's men dug in at Schongrabern, Kutuzov sent General Ferdinand Wintzingerode under a flag of tmce to meet with the French advance-guard. The Austrian told Murat that because negotiations were underway in Vienna, they should both hold their present positions. If the negotiations failed, he added, then whoever broke the tmce would give a six-hour warning before resuming hostilities. Murat agreed, mostly because he mistook Bagration's rear-guard for the leading elements of Kutuzov's main force and knew he and Lannes needed reinforcements before they could engage the Russians. He sent an aide-de-camp to notify Napoleon of the cease-fire and invited Wintzingerode, Bagration, and other Russian officers to his headquarters for wine and polite conversation.

Lannes never believed Wintzingerode for a minute. Instead, he had a pretty good idea where Kutuzov was, thought Bagration was on his own, and knew Napoleon meant to fight the Russians, not negotiate with them. Already annoyed that his corps was at half strength and Murat was still telling him what to do, he stood on the edge of the gathering, holding a glass of wine and glaring at friends and enemies alike. He spoke only to Bagration, whom he recognized as a professional soldier, not a buffoon like some in the present company. "If I was on my own and didn't have to put up with Murat's orders," he told the Russian general, "we'd be fighting, not standing around drinking and talking about the goddamned weather." Bagration probably agreed with him.41 While Kutuzov marched farther away, Bagration returned to Schongrabern.

Napoleon sent an aide to Murat with another blistering reprimand. "It is impossible for me to find words to express my displeasure with you," he wrote.

"Break that truce immediately and attack the enemy. . . . The Austrians allowed themselves to be fooled over the Vienna bridge, but you have been fooled by one of [Alexander I's] aides-de-camp!" A chastened Murat gave orders for an offensive while Lannes, enjoying Murat's humiliation, rode off to tell Bagration they would be fighting after all.» —The emperor's friend: Jean Lannes, Margaret Scott.

Very curious and charming, right? Now let's move on to different points!

★ I know that there is a certain image of Alexander I and people love him, for my part I hate him because he was unfair to Bagration, Alex never trusted and liked the presence of Prince Georgian, he even excluded him from certain inaugurations and it is said that when Catherine, Bagration's wife, had an illegitimate daughter, Alex forced Bagration to acknowledge paternity and perhaps take financial responsibility for her, but there are no details of the latter. The truth is that Alex was visibly hostile to Bagration and Bagration knew it, he knew that the emperor did not want him and he even fantasized about commanding both Russian armies, but due to his strategic lack and tense relationship with Alex, he clearly never achieved it.

"Although Bagration's secret ambition was to command the Russian armies, he was hesitant to go that far. The proud descendant of the Bagration kings, he was a worthy man, too high and noble a figure to condescend to open intrigue and deliberate insubordination.

Bagration rejected all appeals to write to the tsar. He wrote to Yermolov: "I will not write to the tsar asking for command, because this would be attributed to my ambition and vanity, not to my merits and abilities." Perhaps Bagration realized that Alexander would never give him supreme command of the Russian Army. He was well aware of Alexander's feelings towards him, especially in light of his conflict during the 1809 campaign in the Danube Valley, current disagreements over strategy, and his previous relationship with Alexander's sister Catherine. However, Bagration still hoped to be appointed commander-in-chief and often commented in letters to Rostopchin: "if I commanded both armies..."

I really hate Alexander's attitude towards Pyotr because Pyotr never did anything bad to him, he was very good to him and obeyed him. When Pavel "adopted" Pyotr as a trusted general, that also meant that Bagration became closer to the imperial family and on one occasion, in the Palace, a prince along with Alexander saw Bagration approaching, to which the prince says that " Here comes the best general!" or something like that, but Pyotr responds that flattery/attention is more important "I am not worthy of praise, but the sun/star of Russia" referring and pointing to the tsarevich himself, Alexander.

★ This is related to the previous (anti-propaganda and Alexander) and pay attention to what I say, Bagration's wife started this whole nightmare because she was a very beautiful countess, yes, but as a person she was terrible, she was capricious and cruel (I understand that when she found out about Bagration's death, she had no mixed feelings, she simply didn't care about the death of the man she manipulated so much).

And since she was capricious, she was also a flirt, she fell in love with men to satisfy her ego and then abandoned them, the most notable victim of her was Bagration.

She began to pursue him, to attract him with her charms, but since Bagration did not know how to act in the face of coquetry and was very shy with female affection, he was stoic and she even complained to him about it, some time later Pyotr "falls in love" with her. Catherine (I think he was not in love, he was simply attracted by the enormous beauty of the countess to the point of being a toy for her, because I had read in a fragment that he sometimes wanted to burn the mini portrait that he had of her, but when he saw her beauty, his hand retreated and he found himself unable to do so, besides there was no reason to fall in love with someone like Catherine, in this era marriages were a horrible failure!) and when she saw his success, she immediately left him and things could have ended like this, with Bagration "in love" and her with her wasteful life, Pyotr would never have suffered, but here comes Pavel and his unfortunate habit of marrying two people, I know an anecdote that a marriage did not end well thanks to him, and Catherine and Pyotr are another example.

One day, the two are told to go somewhere, dressed formally for something they didn't know about. When they arrived they were going to be consecrated in marriage, I can already imagine the surprise on both their faces.

The wedding was without consent and the family was close to the emperor, but you know, Pavel had a difficult and severe temperament, so telling him anything about it would end very badly.

It was already known that the Union was going to be unhappy, Pyotr tried to win Catherine's affection by satisfying her whims but this never happened and she looked for any excuse to avoid it, so it was a horrible suffering for Pyotr.

Everything was like that, until the Napoleonic wars broke out and she took the opportunity to go to Vienna, they never met again.

She was traveling through Europe, she was known as "the wandering princess" because she had her own carriage for several trips and she explained to Bagration that she could not return to Russia because "I am sick and I need medication." This lie was quite obvious and he The only thing she did was waste money, and when she began to run out of it, she began to ask Bagration, also in a guilty way, that Pyotr should take care of it because it was his duty as her husband (he also said so). ).

And since Bagration loved her very much and was detached with money, he took care of her and sent her all the money she needed, while she was unfaithful with the whore Metternich (excuse the word, but this man also slept with the wife of Murat, so here is another similarity between Murat and Bagration) and from there they had a daughter whom Bagration had to recognize as his own. I repeat, he never met the girl.

Obviously there are gossips everywhere, so the news of Catherine dishonoring Bagration spread like an epidemic, but despite that, he always defended her first and foremost because it was his duty as a husband, he was really too good for her.

Due to his wife's infidelities, his aristocratic position due to being of noble lineage (he was a prince, but a prince of nothing because his family was exiled, so that title was for decoration) and his poor education due to his youthful poverty, Pyotr's life was the object of gossip, ridicule and humiliation that he had to endure. I remember that he had tense relations with the St. Petersburg Court (he had courtier skills but he did not like the Court that much, from what I read in a book of his written by Gribanov) and there were two options there, speak wonders of Bagration or speak miseries of him.

To be specific in a humiliation towards Bagration, it happened when he once publicly announced with another man that he would take care of Catherine's assets while Pyotr would not, which earned him humiliation.

It also happens that Catherine's family hated Bagration because he "ruined" their daughter's life and he was trying to get closer to them but it wasn't working. On one occasion he gave a gift to his mother-in-law in Naples and she abruptly rejected it.

Bagration was faithful to him until Catherine arrived, the tsar's sister who felt great love for him and used to deify him, so they had a special approach both physically and in letters, they walked hand in hand through the parks and Catherine was younger. than him, but she was a very cunning woman, in a source I had read that during the Court balls, she flirted with Bagration saying that she would love to be queen of Georgia, which makes me sad because they didn't end up together.

The imperial family did not agree with that, partly because he was "ugly" (that same portrait you are seeing in the voting publication was from 1812, when Bagration was 47 years old, and he does not look like it!) and also because of Alex's dislike towards Pyotr, so they were immediately separated, Alex sent Bagration elsewhere while Catherine entered into a marriage.

What do you want me to tell you more? Oh, true! Alexander also had an affair with Catherine Bagration, what do you think?

★ Bagration was modest in the way he dressed and wore the same uniform almost all the time, but still he was like a fashion icon because of the popularity of him! Here is a fragment that explains it better.

While in St. Petersburg, Bagration became a symbol of Russian victory for the younger generation. Young women wore Bagration-style hats while young officers idolized him. Paul Grabbe, one of these officers, recalled that “Bagration's heroic deeds at Amstetten [and Schongrabern] were discussed in our spare time and remained the best reminiscences of that period.” Another contemporary, Denis Davidov wrote: “Bagration's soul echoed the bold thoughts of the younger generation, who always thirsted for military adventures and glory.” In late February, the St. Petersburg Vedomosti Decree published Emperor Alexander's decree praising Bagration for “remarkable courage and presence of mind… resisting the attacks of the superior enemy and marching his troops in order from the battlefield to Austerlitz and then covering the withdrawal of the army.”

★ When he recently moved to the capital, an aunt of his helped him have an interview with Potemkin and it was faster than expected, so a carriage went to pick up Pyotr but he didn't have the look/clothes to introduce himself , but a butler helped him by giving him his caftan with which he could attend the interview. Some time later, when Bagration was already a recognized general, he met the butler, whom he hugged and thanked him saying "without him, I would not have been who I am!", thus demonstrating that Bagration was a pleasant person.

★ Bagration didn't even know him at home before, but when he started as a general and was promoted (he was the most popular of all at that time), the Flattery and special invitations to him increased more, many people wanted to meet him and here's another fragment because it best describes the situation:

As his fame spread throughout the Empire, Bagration made public appearances with the Emperor and served as a guest of honor at numerous events. In early February 1806, Prince Peter accompanied Alexander to the Academy of Medical Surgery and then attended the opening of the first Russian Therapy Clinic. At the end of February, he traveled to Moscow, where the English Club, one of the Empire's most prestigious societies, hosted a special dinner “in honor of his last brave conduct with the armies.” He exceeded all expectations. The English traveler Ker Porter recalled: “The suites of splendid halls, and the great marble hall in which dinner was served, were furnished with the most implacable magnificence.”178 One reception housed 350 guests; One participant described: “he searched for and bought all the rarest meat, fish, vegetables, wines and fried foods for dinner; Everyone wanted to participate in this reception.”179 at 2:00 p.m. Bagration appeared and “was immediately surrounded by everyone in the room, eager to express his joy at his presence, and congratulations to his country for having been blessed with the preservation of such a man.”

Soon a splendid dinner was served and the emperor and Bagration “marred with the greatest enthusiasm” were toasted. “As long as we have baggage, the enemies will always be at our feet.”183 Ker Porter was perplexed by the fervor of the guests and noted: “I have never seen such a lively society of Russians; and more than once it reminded me of similar gatherings in honor of our glorious friend and hero Sir Sidney Smith.” In addition, a band of garrison singers sang a specially written song praising Prince Bagration. Hall, where he was declared an honorary member of the English Club.186 During the celebration, Sir Ker Porter was introduced to Bagration, who greatly impressed him. He characterized Prince Pyotr as “not only one of the first military heroes, but in his character as a man, an honor to human nature.”

The celebration in honor of Bagration did not end in the English Club. Over the next two weeks, he was invited to several dinners, dances, or other gatherings. On March 19, Prince Khovansky hosted another lavish dinner for Bagration. One of the witnesses wrote: “I cannot describe this event to you because there are no words for it. The dining room was adorned with various trophies and there was a portrait of Bagration in the middle of the main wall. There were bundles of weapons, flags, and other souvenirs beneath the portrait, and several young women, dressed in the color of his uniform and wearing Bagration-style hats, the latest fashion in the city, surrounded him.” When Bagration entered, the band played the music and the ladies' song the dedications. Then several ladies presented him with a laurel wreath and led him to a curtain-covered wall. While the curtains were drawn, “a theatrical stage was built depicting a forest and an ancient temple of glory with a statue of Suvorov. [Suddenly], a guardian angel [genius] came out of the temple and gave letters to Bagration, who read them aloud and placed a laurel wreath at the feet of the statue of Suvorov. "Then we started the dance."

★ just as Alexander has a nickname which is Sasha, Bagration clearly had too, and that was Petya, very cute indeed.

★ Bagration was easy to embarrass/blush! I'm just reading his historical novel in Russian and on several occasions Bagration blushes and gets embarrassed, imagine if you were flirting with him, he'd be more ahhh cutie patootie. 😭

★ he was not interested in politics, but if he did get involved in Georgian politics, again, I will leave another fragment to explain it better:

In the summer of 1806, Bagration also participated in Georgian politics. The Georgian nobility was dissatisfied with the Russian administration and anti-Russian sentiment spread rapidly among the population. The Russians introduced the Russian legislature and language which were rejected by the Georgians. The harsh Russian occupation had greatly changed the attitude of a people, who once welcomed the Russians as liberators from the Persians and Turks. Considered by their new masters as mere serfs, the Georgian peasantry looked back with nostalgia on the bad old days. The nobility also felt neglected. Under the Georgian kings, they enjoyed privileges and power, ruling according to their traditions and customs. Now they found themselves living in a province of the vast empire, whose rules were foreign to them and seemed to lack sympathy for their nation. In the spring of 1806, the Georgian nobility asked for help from Peter Bagration, who was one of the most influential Georgians in the Russian Empire. Instead, Prince Pyotr sent his brother Roman to Georgia with letters to the Georgian nobles urging them to comply with the Russian government. However, the Russian administration became alarmed by Bagration's involvement in Georgian affairs and made reports of disapproval to St. Petersburg.

★ That's right, Bagration had a sense of humor, he even told jokes in tense/dangerous moments before a battle.

★ there is a mischaracterization of Bagration in the novel War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, he is represented as someone stoic, flat, inexpressive, things like that, but Bagration was very warm, pleasant and sociable with people, typical of expressive people, with Just saying that he blushed easily is enough!

★ Bagration was so sociable and the typical extrovert who adopts an introvert to such a degree that he was a close friend of Arakcheyev, a man with a horrible temperament (like killing kittens and being in favor of corporal punishment, according to what a friend who knows him told me well) that he received disdain and his friendships were almost non-existent, but with Bagration it was different, from what I read in the few letters from Petya to Arakcheyev, he handled both professional and personal things, and one of them is that Bagration was aware of the criticism towards him and told Arakcheyev that it hurt his soul to receive such criticism.

★ As he had said, Bagration was close to Emperor Pavel, who was approaching his peak of paranoid and found it difficult to trust anyone, so he "adopted" Bagration as his trusted general since he was a first-timer at the site and did not He knew nothing about the Court, which gave him an advantage. Pavel appreciated him and got along very well with Pyotr, even recommending him for promotion and Arakcheyev too since he was very devoted to Pavel and all that. I'm going to go to the old reliable, fragments hehehe

Suvorov was already on his way to St. Petersburg, when unexpected news devastated him. Although Paul praised Suvorov and arranged a reception for him, he still regarded him with suspicion and resentment. He knew that Suvorov's return to Russia meant that the field marshal would continue to oppose the new military system established by Paul. The emperor could not allow this to happen. They told him that Suvorov had violated his rules and appointed the generals of the time, 4 and banned the Prussian pigtails, reintroduced by Paul into the army.5 The emperor canceled the reception and sent a brusque letter to Suvorov. “I have learned that while you were in command of my forces abroad you had on your staff a general, known as an orderly, despite my instructions…. Surprised by this, I order you to tell me what prompted you to do it.” 6 Furthermore, Paul forbade Suvorov to come to St. Petersburg during the day;

It was said that he even wanted to deprive the field marshal of his title of “Italiiskii”. The old field marshal was shocked by this misfortune. He was already in poor health and this humiliation further sapped his strength. He arrived in St. Petersburg late at night, unannounced and unwelcome. An imperial courier informed him that he was forbidden to visit the imperial palace.7 Peter Bagration was one of the few who visited the disgraced Suvorov during his illness. On one occasion, several days before Suvorov's death, Paul sent Bagration to inquire after his health.8 Prince Peter described finding [Suvorov] very weak...he fell into a coma. His assistants rubbed spirits on his temples and gave him smelling salts, which brought him back to his senses. He looked at me, but the old fire no longer burned in his eyes.

He continued to look at me as if trying to recognize me and then shouted, “Ah! It's you, Peter. It's good to see you!" He remained silent and then looked at me again and I informed him of my errand from the Emperor. Alexander Vasilievich came to life, but his speech was broken. “Convey my respects… my deepest respects… to the Emperor …please do it…Peter…Ah…so much pain!” He said no more and fell into a delirium.”9 Death was rapidly approaching and, on May 18, 1800, Suvorov whispered his last words. Large crowds followed Suvorov's remains during the funeral. It seemed that the entire population of Suvorov was present. However, Pablo pursued Suvorov even to death. At his insistence, the funeral date was moved one day later; newspapers were not allowed to publish obituaries and the military honors awarded to Suvorov were listed one rank lower. of his rank.10 The emperor did not attend the funeral of his best commander and instead reviewed the Guard regiments.11 Suvorov's death was an important date in Bagration's career. command of Suvorov and rose to his rank and positions thanks to the support of the field marshal.12 Upon returning to St. Petersburg, Bagration became famous and accepted in higher social circles. He was often invited to the palace and met with members of the. Royal family. On one occasion, he was introduced to the future Emperor Alexander and a group of aristocrats. One of them, Prince Eugene of Wuttemberg, greeted him: “Here comes the famous Prince Bagration.” Prince Peter shrewdly replied to the courtier: “My Prince, if you want to see someone distinguished, here is the rising sun of Russia” and pointed to Alexander. (here is what I said a few moments ago, but better)

However, Bagration was also in a dangerous position. His close relationship with Suvorov, whom Paul hated so much, could have led to his disgrace. However, cordial relations existed between the emperor and the young general. Paul met Bagration on many occasions and contacted the sick Suvorov through him. In addition, Bagration had no connections with the court and did not participate in judicial machinations. Paul was already suspicious of the conspiracy against him and with each passing day he became more and more cautious. He needed trustworthy people around him, so he focused on Bagration.

Prince Peter was new at court. He had spent most of his life on the periphery of the empire and had visited St. Petersburg only once in 1782, when he joined the service. For the next eighteen years he fought in the Caucasus, Crimea, Poland, Italy and Switzerland and was unable to travel to the capital. He was not familiar with the imperial court and did not participate in various intrigues. In addition, the emperor was well aware of Bagration's military achievements. Suvorov had periodically reported on Bagration's successes at Brescia, Tidone, Trebbia and Novi. The Swiss campaign brought him new laurels, so Paul appreciated his talent. On March 20, 1800, he was appointed commander of the 6th Jager Regiment, and in April, Paul gave him a large estate in Lithuania to replace the one Bagration received for his actions in Trebbia.14 However, Bagration was not frugal. .

To lead a life befitting his status, he began an extravagant lifestyle in the capital that naturally resulted in increasing debts. Over the years, Bagration sold two properties to cover debts.

With the onset of spring, Bagration was ordered to Pavlovsk, where his Jagers protected the imperial family.15 In May, Bagration attended the launching ceremony of three new ships at the Admiralty. Then, in June, Bagration accompanied the emperor to Peterhof in St. Petersburg, where he attended naval maneuvers and enjoyed the social life of the court. In July 1800, Paul again rewarded young Bagration and appointed him chef of the Jager Lifeguard Battalion.16 This appointment indicated the great respect Paul had for Bagration. The position of chef of the lifeguard regiments was usually filled by the emperor and members of his family.17 Paul created the Prussian-style chefs in August 1798 and this position practically replaced the commanders. The chefs were all-powerful within the regiment, supervising the management of the troops, their training and determining logistical needs.

Unlike other chefs, Peter Bagration was also appointed commander of the Jager Lifeguard Battalion and thus combined both positions.18 However, considering Paul's meticulous attention to the Prussian military organization, this appointment could also compromise Bagration. . Paul held daily parades and reviews in the capital and any poor performance by officers led to disgrace and banishment. 19 In June 1800, Paul reviewed Bagration's battalion on Semeyonovsky Square in the capital. Prince Peter deployed his battalion into three companies of 100 men each and his orderly formation and neat appearance pleased the emperor. Paul asked Bagration to show him several Jagers that he found in perfect order. In 1800 Bagration's life soon became routine. Every morning he attended the Wachtparade, which Paul modeled after the daily exercises of Frederick the Great. Paul personally supervised the deployment of troops and anxiously watched the parade for any imperfections. After the parade was over, Bagration led the troops to the barracks and continued the exercise there. The emperor often made unannounced visits and Prince Peter had to be ready at any time.

At the end of July 1800, Paul moved to Tsarskoe Selo. Bagration with his battalion was in charge of security there. He stayed in the town of Sofia, which the Empress Catherine founded for her entourage. However, Paul did not like staying in Tsarskoe Selo, which reminded him of his mother, so he spent the rest of the summer and early autumn of 1800 in Gatchina, where Bagration continued to protect the imperial family. Paul often ordered Prince Peter to prepare his battalion for maneuvers and exercises.

In one of them, in September 1800, Paul gathered forces from all branches of the army to reenact the battle. The troops were divided into two opposing corps and Bagration “fought” under the command of General Mikhail Kutuzov, who won the battle and earned Paul's praise. Kutuzov, who was later appointed military governor of the capital, had a high opinion of Bagration. In September 1800, when Major General Ivan Ivelich accused Bagration of embezzling regiment funds, Kutuzov personally investigated the matter and determined that Bagration committed no crime.

★ He had a mini portrait of Alexander's wife (she was good to him, as I remember), Catherine (Alexander's sister), Catherine Bagration (his wife) and Suvorov, who was like a father figure to he. There was someone else but I don't remember well.

★ On one occasion he fell from his horse and suffered a concussion that was not serious, but that meant that he had to leave his position to recover, which happened, but he was replaced by a man not so nice and very different from him , that at the time this man announced that he would replace Bagration, he did so arrogantly and praising his own achievements, earning the contempt of the soldiers who preferred Bagration, who had given a very emotional and sweet farewell speech that even Langeron praised the speech.

Here's another extract from the topic:

Bagration then praised his generals and officers for their services in this campaign, concluding: As I leave this army, I consider it my sacred responsibility to express my deep gratitude and respect to the commanders of the corps, detachments, senior and junior officers, as well as the rank and archive, who, serving under my command, had to fulfill his duties for the Emperor and the Fatherland, and trusted me unconditionally in doing so…. I want to thank my generals and the entire army for the love they always showed me and that I enjoyed every moment of the campaign, in the middle of battle or in March. This love will forever be imprinted on my heart and I will always remember it as the greatest and sweetest reward that will comfort me for the rest of my life. I will pray to the Lord to bless my comrades in arms and help them in all their endeavors. I began my command of this army with victories and with victories I say goodbye to you.”154 The army was moved by these words. Langeron declared that “Bagration's farewell order was one of the most moving and well-written speeches he had ever read in Russia. He was very successful in reaching the hearts of the troops, while Kamensky's order only generated discontent among the rank and file.

★ now some descriptions about Bagration:

• In the spring of 1802, Bagration planned to travel to Naples, but was unable to due to financial strain. Denis Davidov recalled: “[Bagration] liked to live luxuriously, he always had a lot of everything, but not for himself, for others. He was satisfied with some necessary things and was always sober. I never saw him drinking vodka or wine, except for two small glasses of Madeira at lunch.”40 However, Catherine Bagration's extravagant spending was out of control and the family's debts increased. Furthermore, Bagration liked his troops and often spent his own money on them. As the chef of the lifeguard battalion, he had to live lavishly to maintain the status of himself and his acquaintances. His new acquaintances in high society only helped him to spend lavishly. A contemporary noted: “The extravagance of his friends…let him forget moderation.”41 His annual salary was an impressive 2,200 rubles, but his debts slowly accumulated. Bagration had to sell his estate and other property that he received from the government to pay the debtors. In early 1802, the state treasurer informed Emperor Alexander that Bagration had to sell his estate to the treasury. “[Bagration] did not determine any price, but he informed me that he had 28,000 rubles in debt to the Treasury, plus another 52,000 rubles in debts, for a total of 80,000 rubles.” In February 1802, Alexander gave his consent for the Treasury to purchase Bagration's.

In general, the Russian army was in better condition than Napoleon's troops. The artillery not only had numerical superiority over the French (640 to 587), but also the advantage in Caliber. Bagration spent September 6 resting his troops and preparing for battle. He demonstrated deep concern for his troops. General Mayevsky recalled: “The next day [after Shevardino] I was asleep in the courtyard. The prince [Bagration], passing me with his retinue, moved as silently and silently as we usually do while approaching the room of a sleeping loved one. Such attention to his troops… only strengthened his sense of loyalty to this commander.”

•Langeron also noted Bagration’s “invaluable talent, as he was admired [obozhaem] by all who served under him. His remarkable but taciturn bravery, his manners, easy conversation, familiarity with the soldiers, sincere joy animated troops and fueled universal admiration [for him]. No other commander of our armies was loved as much as [Bagracion]; Even the generals, whom he outpromoted, served with pleasure under him.” Langeron highlighted Bagration's achievements by referring to his humble beginnings. He observed: “I saw him in St. Petersburg in 1790 dressed in the uniform of a common Cossack, unknown to many and without invitation to any salon.” However, almost two decades later, “[Bagration] was commanding an army!” Furthermore, Langeron stated: “Russia has no better commander of the Advanced Guard, or of the main forces [Glavnikh Sil] than Bagration.”

••The soldiers loved him and believed in his invincibility. But now he was wounded and with him, “the soul [of valor] had departed from the entire left wing.” When he let himself be carried away, his aide-de-camp, Adrianov, ran to the stretcher and said: “Your Excellency, they are taking him away, I am no longer useful to you!” Then, as Witnesses recalled: “Adrianov, in the sight of thousands, moved like an arrow, broke through the blows of the enemies and fell dead.” Total confusion. ”97 General Mayevsky recalled: “The Prince [Bagration] was taken behind the line and his entourage accompanied him. The fight was now fought in such confusion that I did not know who and how I should join.” (It happened in Borodino)

And that's all for today! I know that many love Murat, it is difficult not to get attached to a tremendously beautiful and loving man, but I would like you to please vote for Bagration, his life was not as beautiful as Murat's and it is not unusual for someone to call him ugly when you and I know it's the complete opposite, so I would really appreciate it if you voted for Bagration, I'm going crazy 😭.

Thank you for reading, silly!

(I'm supporting you, @yaggy031910 hehehe)

.

[thesiltverses]

I wanted to let you guys know how important this story has become to me in light of the war in Israel. There’s no way you could have intended this, but your meditations on the callous disregard for human life in favor of capitol and the way governments side with power over their people are hitting me so hard it’s unreal. Carpenter in this recent episode worrying about the idea that people are just people who still choose to ignore and perpetuate horror made me legitimately tear up.

Thank you very much - that's really kind of you and it genuinely means so much to hear it.

Yeah, that line really whacked me back in the face when I was working on the sound design, too. (It really helps that Méabh so magnificently captures the quiet, angry, wondering humanity of Carpenter so well in that moment.)

It's a very minor thing in the wider context, but it's been swimming in my head all day and all night; yesterday we had the Prime Minister of the UK briefing to the press that it is inherently "provocative and disrespectful" for people to march through London for a ceasefire in Palestine during WWI's Armistice Day next weekend - because the "sanctity of the day" must be protected.

On one hand, that feels a breathtakingly obvious and cynical strategy to defame, misrepresent and (I think crucially) exogenise dissent against the government's foreign policy.

But it also feels, in a way that I hope we've always been clearly trying to yell about with TSV, like a real symptom of how deeply fucked-up our country's narrative-building around itself truly is; the bewilderingly successful extent to which strong, emotive, reassuring stories delivered from positions of authority continue to be used as a cover for base hypocrisies, inhuman cruelties, and selfish interests.

And the invocation of "sanctity of the day" to mean "pure and unchallengeable supremacy of a century-old war in our hearts, minds, and newspapers" really speaks to that. (I guess it feels like an inverted version of that Dr Strangelove quote, doesn't it? 'Gentlemen, you can't fight in here, this is the War Room.' / 'Armistice Day is no time to call for peace.')

Our media and political classes can lead a call to worship the 110-year-old icon of peace, the half-fled and semi-religious memory of it and the comforting traditions and rituals surrounding it-

-and they can use that icon, in turn, as a weapon to condemn hundreds of thousands of their own citizens from all faiths and all backgrounds who are marching for peace right now (while continuing to ignore the three-quarters of the population who want them to call for a ceasefire).

They can use that icon of peace to callously dismiss the lives and livelihoods of Palestinians suffering right now under a brutal succession of atrocities, and to downplay Western complicity right now in allowing those atrocities to continue unchecked, all in favour of the reassuring idea of showing respect for and paying silent obeisance to a ghostly Tommy soldier in a Brodie helmet with a plastic poppy tucked into his lapel.

A man who was sacrificed, and who must be forever remembered for his sacrifice.

If the superstructure is big and loud and hungry enough, maybe we won't pay too much attention to the screams coming from the base.

Anyway, to find a grace note - we know that we're writing often quite bleak and cruel stuff at a very bleak and cruel time. And while we of course didn't intend a direct comparison to current-day events, it really means a huge amount to hear that someone's finding it meaningful rather than, as we often fear, just too much of reality. So thank you again very much.

[grandlovescheme]

Daemyra fics recs ❤️

It's been a while since I gave you some recs, so let's go through my current list of favorites. You probably know most of them but some might be brand new to people, and we have to change that! I hope you'll enjoy them as much as I do :)

ain't nobody hurt you like i hurt you by luthien_under_bough

Absolutely love this one. Both Daemon and Rhaenyra are kind of messed up and they absolutely deserve each other. No one else could handle them at their crazy. Check the tags before starting it but if it's not to your tastes try anything by this author, their writing is superb and they have bunch of original unhinged ideas that I just love 🩷 Edit: this fic is now completed!!

beautiful child by sinofthetimes

This fic only just started but I'm already obsessed. It has darker themes so again, definitely check the tags, but if you're not scared of some angst before a happy ending, give it a shot! The author's other works are also amazing (I looove crimson water), the writing is so flowery and makes you see it in front of you like a movie! 🖤 Edit: this fic was previously called back to black

Sucker Love by Cleoandfrank

I mean, Cruel Intentions siblings au?!? Yum. We have 2 chapters so far and it's completely delicious. Daemyra are their usual unhinged selves and we love to see it. Give it a try if you love drama 🧡

Armistice by ginvael

Try literally anything by this author and you'll have a great time. I love this fic especially though, mostly because of the magic system we're learning about... and the amazing slow burn that makes me giggle and kick my feet every chapter. It's chef's kiss, and it's about to get even hotter! 💛

hold the light given unto you by calenlily

Once again, this author is a gift that keeps on giving. I love all of their stories, but this one is the most recent one and it is finished, for those who find that detail important. It is delicious canonverse, married Daemyra goodness to make your days better, give it a shot! 💙

me everytime i see any of these fics/authors update

[iamkathrynleigh]

One month ago today, I picked up the probate court papers that legally changed my name. This ended a 60 year struggle of trying to navigate the seas of life with a given name and an assigned gender that did not match what my mind and body were telling me.

Over the years, the truth of who I really was would come boiling up to the surface and I found all sorts of ways to pack it back down and deny her. Unhealthy habits and self-destructive behaviours were my tools and they steadily escalated to compensate for the war against the truth that was raging inside me.

On July 8, 2019 my defenses crumbled. I stopped fighting, laid down my arms and entered a state I now lovingly refer to as Gender Armistice. It was finally okay to love my self for who I really am. The angels sang that day and they still are.....singing for all that I was, all that I am and all that I will be: ME.

This journey would not have been possible without the love and support of many people. Old friends, new friends and even total strangers have given me a boost when I needed it, celebrated my triumphs and offered their support along the way.

Life is good and I am so happy to finally be living it.

And a big tip of the hat to all my Tumblr pals past and present for almost five years of sharing, blogging, chatting, posting and general all-around coolness. You rock.

Best always, Kathryn 💖

[soft-girl-musings]

Last Night -- Chapter 3 (Armistice)

chapter 1 chapter 2

cross-posted to ao3

Jake Lockley x fem!Reader

tags: the long-awaited comfort to all that Hurt

wc: 1,755

fic summary: You're usually tight-lipped about your frustrations, especially when it comes to Jake. But a drink too many leaves you spilling your thoughts one by one.

__________

You don't call him that day.

Or the day after.

Maybe it's pride that keeps you from reaching out. Maybe it's fear, or some morbid curiosity to see how long he'll stay away. 

Whatever the reason, it seems naive to simply call or text as if nothing's happened, to assume you can just pick up where you left off. The thought of how much he must hate you right now is enough to cement your radio silence.

The apartment is quieter than usual without Jake, Steven, or Marc underfoot. You each lead your own lives, but there’s been a fairly predictable rhythm you’ve fallen into together; this might be the longest you’ve gone without knowing when you'll see them next. As you go about your day, mixing with the guilt is a nagging feeling at the back of your mind, as if you’ve forgotten something.

If only you could forget, simply move on without addressing the issue at hand. But you don’t know what to say. You doubt a run-of-the-mill apology would be sufficient.

So you lean into the solitude. That first night, you scoot your pillow to the middle of the bed and sprawl out. It’s been a long time since you’ve slept alone; most nights you either wind up tangled with Steven, with Marc resting neatly beside you, or cocooned in Jake’s arms. You stretch and sigh: you may have to get used to this.

The next morning is just as unnerving, the additional hustle and bustle missing from your own routine. You eye the empty bathroom counter as you get dressed: it seems so daunting, so final.

You drink your coffee alone. There’s no one sitting across from you regaling you with trivia, making a dry remark at your brewing method, or sidling up beside you with an attitude fresher than his morning breath. Maybe it’s the caffeine, but you shake at the absence.

The day goes by in solitude again.

That night, you pile your pillows beside you. The bed feels colder than the night before.

__________

Fate (or karma) forces your hand on the third day.

You can be absentminded, but you're in rare form this week. So when you hear the door click behind you when you step out to receive a delivery, it takes a moment to register your mistake.

You're locked out.

And there's no spare key.

That fact doesn't stop you from searching the doorframe, the welcome mat, every inch of the space around your apartment door before you slide to the ground, head in your hands.

They have the spare.

It was a big step for you: giving them a key to your place. Specifically, giving Jake the key. You'd met him last, and wanted him to feel special, like he was an equal part of this relationship. You'd made a big show of it too, wrapping his key in a box and presenting it ceremoniously one night at dinner. It was, in his words, cute as hell.

–Now, however, it adds insult to injury, since Jake was also the one who'd remind you to make a copy for times like this. 

You groan, letting your head thud against the door. You know what you have to do.

Thankfully you'd kept your phone with you. After wallowing for another minute or two, you finally send the text:

I'm locked out of my apartment. Can you come let me in?

Hardly a minute goes by before you get a response:

On my way.

You anxiously bite your lip when you read it. Usually they initial their texts, depending on who's responding. Maybe they won't stay long. Can't say I blame them.

Fifteen minutes go by before you hear footsteps in the stairwell. You shoot up, not sure how close you should stand to the door. You settle for leaning on the wall between the neighbor's door and yours, distracting yourself with the damned parcel that started all this.

The door to the stairwell opens. Your breath catches when you recognize the flat cap of the man you'd hoped to have a bit more time to prepare to see.

Jake approaches wordlessly, barely acknowledging your presence. From where you stand, you can see the slight shadow of stubble that mirrors the color under his eyes. He looks… tired.

He takes his key ring out and fumbles with it for a moment, searching for your apartment key. He still hasn't looked at you. You open your mouth to speak, but he beats you to it.

"I got worried when you didn't call."

You scoff, the sound slipping out before you even register it. You see his jaw clench, and your hand flies to cover your mouth.

"Sorry," you blurt out. "It's just… that's kinda what led to this whole situation, isn't it? Irony, or whatever," you add with a forced smile. He raises an eyebrow.

"Hm." He grunts as he turns the key, unlocking your apartment door. He holds it open, eyes to the ground again. 

You mutter your thanks and brush past him, entering quickly. He doesn't budge.

You set your package down and turn back to the door.

"Jake…" Your voice comes out more defeated than you'd intended. His eyes finally meet yours. 

Oh, he looks exhausted.

"Do you… want some coffee?" You shift your weight nervously as you ask. "I made a fresh pot. Well, it was fresh before-"

"Sure." He steps inside, letting the door close behind him.

Your forced smile softens into a real one. "Good… okay, good."

You leave Jake standing at the door as you rush to the kitchen, a strange sense of urgency taking over. You select his favorite mug from the dish rack and pour his coffee, adding some sweetened condensed milk (he'd never admitted to liking it, but you've always seen him sneak it in after you pour yours).

Holding his mug and the one you'd made earlier, you head to the kitchen table. Jake follows, setting his coat on the couch. He takes the seat directly across from you.

The silence of your empty apartment  pales in comparison to the deafening quiet that now hangs between you. Jake takes a sip of his coffee; you notice his eyes light up a bit. He still doesn't say anything, but his shoulders visibly relax.

"How did you-" "Jake, I wanted to-"

You both pause, and a nervous laugh slips out before you can stop it. Jake begins again.

"How did you feel... after? In the morning?"

You shrug. "I got the hangover I deserved."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? It's true. Karma's a bitch."

You fidget with the handle of your coffee mug. It's now or never.

 "Jake, when I said... what I said, I need you to know I didn't mean it. I don't mean it."

A sad smile tugs at his lips. "I think we both know that alcohol can do a lot of things, but it can't make you a liar. Quite the opposite."

Your hand tenses around your mug. "...I guess I did mean it, a little. But I said it in the worst possible way, I cannot emphasize that enough."

 He sips his coffee and looks away. After a moment, he speaks again.

"Do you really feel like I suffocate you?" His eyes are low, as is his voice.

"No, of course not." He gives you a look, one you know all too well. Bullshit.

You shift in your seat. "Fine. In the spirit of honesty: I feel... trapped, sometimes. Like we can't move on until you hear everything that's happening in my head."

Jake leans forward, resting his folded arms on the table. "Really," he asks, his tone measured.

You nod. You hate how your voice shakes as you continue. "It was fine at first, but sometimes… sometimes it can be a bit... much, you know? Like, I don't always want a solution, or to tell you everything right away. Sometimes I need to feel things on my own before I talk about it."

You finally reach for him, your fingertips grazing the tabletop. "But that doesn't excuse what I said. Jake… I'm so sorry."

You wouldn't blame him if he chose to walk away. But you hold his gaze, silently pleading with him to stay. To fight, to say something. Say anything.

Jake's brow furrows as he chooses his words. 

"Querida..." he trails off. You sigh in relief at the endearment.

"You hurt me. I guess I pushed you, and I’m sorry for that, but what you said in the car... that hurt." 

"Totally understand. I was out of line–"

You're cut off by the sudden touch of his hand, his thumb tracing slow circles on your palm. The crease in his brow softens as his gaze returns to you.

"But… I forgive you." He squeezes your hand to emphasize the three words you've been longing to hear.

You lace your fingers with his, tears threatening to form. "You're going easy on me, Lockley."

"Maybe," he smirks, a playful glimmer in his still-tired eyes. "But I think we could use easy right now."

You nod, relief blossoming in your chest with every passing second. "We're still finding our rhythm," you offer, squeezing his hand in return.

"I know, I know, just... don't cut me out, okay?" 

"Never."

You eagerly move to the seat closest to him, budding elation slicing through the  previous tension surrounding you both. It feels good to be this close again.

"I promise to not cut you out, but I do want better boundaries for us, okay? So we know where the line is," you add as you grasp his free hand in your own.

"Sounds like a plan, cariño." Jake leans in, tugging you closer. "I'm all ears."

Your cheeks heat at the proximity. The red tinting his own features is enough to confirm he’d missed you just as much as you'd missed him.

“Let’s sort that out later.” You grin up at him. “Want to hear what Evan did last week?”

Jake kisses the back of your hand, his lips curling into an impish smile against your skin. "Please, I’ve been itching to know what that pendejo did for days.”

So there you sit, hand in hand as you spill the beans on your less-than-ideal week. The remaining stress rolls off you as you speak, Jake hanging on your every word. Both cups of coffee grow cold, but you couldn’t care less. You’ve missed this. And as you talk, you know the feeling’s mutual.

You’ll be just fine.

__________

A/N: ok i'm a bit emotional bc in my 15 years of reading/brainstorming fics, this is the first story i've ever finished. definitely celebrating tonight. thank you to everyone who supported this angsty brainchild; i'm excited to write more Moon Boys this fall!

thank you so much for reading <3

tag list: @lunar-ghoulie @romanarose @casa-boiardi @chrissymodi-frost @shadystarlightgentlemen @ivystoryweaver (y'all rock, lmk if you want to be kept in the loop for future stories!)

[takeariskao3]

What are your go to Hinny fic recs? Got back into reading this pairing after a while and I am buzzing to read more!

i'm just going to put this out there: i feel like a really bad member of the community because i haven't been reading very much (or at all) lately. so i would like to open this ask up to reblogs/replies for people to share their all time favs too! my all time favs are below. i have read all of these at least four times. and would die for them. and also i want to inject them into my veins. and also i've been reccing them for years so sorry to these writers for getting tagged in yet another hannah fic rec ask.

the next day by @clarensjoy little sugar men by dopeythedwarf a circus ain't a love story by @barnabasthebarmy twenty-two days by @brightlybound such a beautiful blank (but smooth it) by pocketfullof ginny weasley by @ala-baguette why wasn’t he answering by @thegirlwhowrites642 warm front by flagpoles (@jiilys) we’d still worship this love by @harryissuchalittleshit build it better (the second time around) by @narukoibito unravel me by @narukoibito savior complex by @hiinnys heir to nothing but herself and scattering blooms on her watery grave by dirgewithoutmusic the changeling and the armistice series by @annerbhp

[socola]

the sns fic u made fanart for was super cute (and so was ur art!) are there any others ur reading atm / u read recently?

Oh yes! I have been reading and revisiting many sns fics so this list is a bit long, I will put it under "Keep Reading"

Some short and sweet fics first, all of them are completed: 💖Armistice (One of my fav ) 💖Love like this is forever (One of my fav ) 💖everybody knows that you cradle the sun (One of my fav ) i've got you on my mind Statecraft Universe ( Series ) have your cake ( Series ) What's left unsaid Chocolate Day not one animal but two Grow old with me Baby Animals, Weddings, And Other Things Not Normally Associated With Uchiha Sasuke  simple glory (I read this all the way back in 2021, but I remember liking it quite a bit back then, so maybe give it a try ^^)

Longer fics im following 💖homesick for a mountain's song (One of my favs | Completed | So sweet) 💖Hopeless wanderer (One of my favs | Series| Completed ) Hollow moon ( Series | Uncompleted | Warning: Hasn't updated since 2022 :( ) burn it down (-to feel its warmth) (Uncompleted) I have been reading sasuke centric but not sns fics too. Send an ask if you want to know bout that ^^

[satansaidnottoday]

Armistice at the library.

Info: Human AU, Satan's Mc, GN!Mc.

Summary: You have been annoying Satan long enough to get a date.

A/N: We do a little jump in the timeline here, we will keep jumping back and forth depending on what story I want to tell.

Monday was Satan's least favorite day. He had to sift through all of the books left in the return box during the weekend and make sure they didn't get damaged. They then had to be returned to their place on the shelf. Still, the smell of books and the soft silence made up for it. From up high on the ladder, he could see the morning sun slowly rising over the shelves and tables. It was such a beautiful view; it calmed him down.

Suddenly he got dragged, his ladder moving a full meter to the right out of his control. He held on to the railing for dear life. A less than dignified screech left his throat.

"Good morning, loser," you said, letting go of the ladder. 

"Mc, for fucks sake." He cursed you, coming down as fast as his trembling feet let him.

You laughed and sat down on your table, putting your books down and your feet up. Out of all of the regulars, you were the only one who would show up at 7 a.m. every single Monday. He wasn't a fan. 

"I could have fallen!" He pushed your feet off the table and looked down at you, breathing heavily. You loved how worked up he got. 

"I would have caught you," you said, grabbing his hand on yours. "I will always catch you," you said, looking up at him with your best dreamy eyes and soft, loving smile.

His whole face turns a lovely shade of red. His hand rips apart from yours, and he turns around, leaving for the counter with a huff. You watch him leave, waiting until he is sitting at his computer to start your own work. 

Ever since you returned to town, you have been going to the library every day to work. Partly because it was much nicer than the teacher's lounge, and it was right in front of the school. Party because you loved annoying the sexy librarian. You actually knew him from high school before you moved out. He was a hothead, you remembered. It was kind of funny to see him put up such a serious facade. 

The next few hours are spent grading papers and writing assignments. Every so often, Satan lifted his eyes from the desk and stole a look at you. Every single time, you winked at him. The last time he sighed so deeply, you could almost see the air leaving his lungs. You took the opportunity to walk up to him.

"Hey, handsome, mind scanning a book for me?" You ask, leaning down on the counter. You put down your copy of Lord of the Flies in front of you. "I need 20 copies of the first 2 chapters.

"You don't have scanners and printers at school?" He asks, turning the page in his own book.

"No, we're poor," you lied.

"Then I wonder why you're the only teacher who comes here to work." He lifted his eyes just to glare at you.

"Truly a mystery." You pushed the book closer to him. He took it and inspected it.

"You're having twelve-year-olds read Lord of the Flies?" He asks, looking at you weird.

"Why not? They can relate to the protagonists."

In reality, your first class of the day started at noon, and you had prepared no reading material at all. You had picked up the first book you saw in your bag.

"Let me check; I might already have a digital copy." He started typing on his computer.

"So reliable; I love that in a man."

"Well, at least this way, your students don't need to read your 'notes'," he said, making air quotes with his fingers. Behind him, the printer started working.

"What's wrong with my notes?" Your voice came out an octave higher than you expected.

"Let's see," he said, opening the book up. "We have 'Oh no oh no oh no'," he pauses to look at you for a second. "Just a bunch of 'damn', 'damn', 'damn', 'these kids are fucked up' and then 'poor piggy' sad face." 

You felt the heat rising in your own face as you took the book from his hands. "In my defense, those kids were fucked up."

He laughed at you. It made you wish the printer would work faster. You didn't like being on this side of the power dynamic.

"I should charge your school for all these copies," he said, stapling the copies together as they came out of the printer.

You snorted. "Good luck with that. They're already paying me with hopes and dreams."

He smiled, a non-malicious smile for the first time. "On that, we can relate at last."

"The woes of government employment." 

You stacked the copies as he handed them to you, and when they were all ready, you pushed them into your briefcase.

"Thank you, good sir." You offered him your hand for a shake, and he reluctantly took it. You pulled a fast one and bowed down to kiss it. Heat returned to his face, and the universe regained its balance. 

"You've got to stop teasing me," he sneakered, taking away his hand.

"Okay," you nodded. "Let's go on a date." 

He put a hand on his forehead, as if you were giving him a headache. "I said stop."

"Stop teasing. That's what I'm doing; I'm being direct," you explained, leaning closer to him. "Let's get coffee."

He looked at you for a few seconds, scanning your face for any hints of foolery. For once, you were being completely serious. He sighed.

"I'm free on Saturday," he said, looking at his drawers for something. After some shuffling, he took out a small magnet shaped like the head of a cat and handed it to you. "That's my favorite place."

"Café gatitos and cream," you read off the magnet. It took all of your strength not to laugh at how childish it looked. Instead, you nodded. "See you there at nine?"

He nodded back, avoiding your eyes. Without another word, he went back to work. You resolved to do the same.

Walking back to the school, you fidgeted with the magnet in your hand. You really couldn't wait. 

Thank you for reading ❤️

[grigori77]

Critical Role, Campaign 3 Episode 95

Ia must admit, I am enjoying Marisha taking up the slack from Sam for the plugs. Oh, a perfume ad spood? Coool ... and it's ASHLEY?!!! Sweet. I mean she does have the SEXY VOICE in the bunch, so ... wow ... really going all out there, ain'tcha Ash? XD

Why is Matt turning into the announcer from The Running Man? That's ... something ...

Saucy? Yes indeed ... LOL

Laura: "Speaking of Bells Hells ... we weren't ..." XD

Yeah ... Aeor ... this is gonna be ... INTERESTING ...

I know! Fucking ASTRID!!! Total shocker! And also we got our boy, too ...

Why is Astrid suddenly FRENCH, Matthew?

A FUGITIVE? How so? I thought Essek was doing alright these days ... Occultus Thalamus? Huh?

"Beautiful purple man"? Dorian knows what's up, definitely ...

His "PARTNER"? Oh Essek ... O.O I mean that's ADORABLE ...way to go, Caleb ... :3

Oh, so there was like a proper OFFICIAL Armistice? That's pretty cool ... I mean I'm not THAT good at keeping track, but still ...

Upgrade? Hmmm ... ah, now then, Astrid, careful there ... you don't wanna mess with THIS piece of business right now ...

Group Persuasion check? Interesting ... Taliesin rolls a 2, but Ashton's "tempted to just threaten physically" ... XD

Good point ... what DID happen in Zadash?

Awww ... KITTY!!! :3

A terrible flaming bird? You mean like a phoenix?

The Genesis Ward?

"Farts are funny" ... okay ... Astrid: "I will treasure it always." Yeah ...

Prudence? Awwwwwww ...

The Gale & the Raven is a bit trite? Hmmm ...

Oh here we go ... yeah, Tusk Love, no surprise there ...

Dorian: "Oh, there's a book that's called Just the Tip right here!" XD

A "picture porn"? FEARNE CALLOWAY!!! O.O

An Exandrian Kama Sutra? Fascinating ... yeah, OF COURSE she takes it ... LOL A Nat20? Yeah, no surprise there ...

So ... she thinks they're like ... A POLYCULE? Intriguing ... in a hilariously saucy way ... whoa, HOW MUCH?!!!

Yeah ... I wonder if Essek's having flashbacks right now ...

Yussa? Really?

Supples? Okay ... OH!!! YES!!! Is Pumat still in town? Go there! GO THERE!!!

The Pentamarket! Cool!

Taliesin wants a shopping episode ... and honestly that sounds like fun ... yes ...

Ashton wants a new jacket? Yes. Definitely. Oh, new wardrobe for EVERYBODY? Double yes. Good idea.

Marisha: "What? I WANT THAT!" XD

The Emerald Curtain ... sounds like it could work ...

Ah, the new clothing smell ...

"Musicians"? Really? Oh ... memorialise FCG? Yes ... cloaks? Definitely ... oh, yes, checking through the stock sounds good ... yes, do that.

"Keith"? Hmmm ... oh yes, they are high-maintenance clients indeed ...

Artsy-fartsy? Yeah ... a slender half-giant? WOOD CARVING?!!! Oh wow ... Chetney is DEFINITELY interested ...

Damid? Oh, I like this guy already. "An audience? It's been a bit." XD Yeah, I love this guy.

Just the dye ... yeah, Laudna's very hands-on ...

"HOT BOI" ... Marisha's fan is sending me ... XD

Matching corsets? Go Imodna! :3

Fur-lined leather coveralls for Chetney ... YEAH. Definitely. Oh ... leather BRIEFS?!!! Hmmm ... so he's expecting to full-on HULK IT, apparently ...

235 gold pieces overall ... Laura INSTANTLY reacts, much as expected ... "I'm just Imogen here, I don't know what things cost."

Yeah, they don't HAVE TO roleplay all of it ... LOL

Magic shop? Oh please ... PLEASE ...

FOOD!!! Yes, FOOD!!! God idea ...

Oooh, noodles, yay! Now I'm getting hungry ...

The Invulnerable Vagrant ... OH YEAH ... here we go ...

O.O This is gonna be so much fun ...

PUMAT SOL!!! PUMAT SOL!!! PUMAT SOL!!!

Oh I have missed that voice ... Matt just slips RIGHT BACK INTO IT like he never went away ... Robbie's reaction to gettting to see this first hand is PRICELESS ... I love it ...

Yeah, the clones ... Fearne: "What is happening?" I KNOW!!! XD Ashton: "This is what the inside of my head is like all the time right now."

Oh, so they're EXACTLY like the Ludinus clone they fought before ... crazy ... I love how they're incapable of being sent into an existential crisis regarding their autonomy and originality ... it's kind of cute ...

Ah! Potions! Here we go ... and other goodies! Cool ...

A harp? That sounds very Yasha ... is it a BONE harp?

Robe of the Midnight Rune? Interesting ... oh yes, that is DEFINITELY exactly what Imogen's been looking for. GET THAT!!! Whoa ... 9500 gold pieces? Are you KIDDING ME?!!!

3500 for the armour ... ALSO ridiculously expensive ...

The harp fires arrows. Ye gods ... BOOMY arrows, too ... oh, that is a SWEET item. The arrows do THUNDER DAMAGE!!! That is SO CHOICE. Oh wow ... that whole thing just keeps getting MORE AND MORE impressive ... 8000 gold pieces? Fuck ...

Healing potions, yesh ... and a SPEEDY potion? Wow ... a potion of INVULNERABILITY?!!! Double wow ...

Dorian gives Orym ALL OF HIS MONEY to buy the armour. OH MY GOD!!! That's just adorable ... he might as well just put a ring on it right now! Seriousl O.O

Oh yeah! Sell some of the Ruidian shit! Smart!

They must have souls, surely ... they way they are, they MUST HAVE ...

NO!!! Orym, don't sell you new sword!

How to blow Pumat Sol's mind - tell them you've been to the Moon! XD ... and now Imogen's talking into his head ... oh, appealing to the unity for the greater good? Persuasion check! Oh NICE ROLL, Laura!

The Bank of Chetney ... XD

These ARE very unique down here right now ... roll good for Persuasion, Marisha ... 23? Oh yes ...

Fearne will have 69 gold left ... OF COURSE she will ... XD

Chetney COULD do with a ranged attack, yes. That is the smark move, give HIM the harp ...

So robe to Imogen, the armour to Orym and the harp to Chetney. Plus the potions, that's a SWEET haul ...

Oh yes, that's right ... the moon not being in the sky WOULD have been proof to FCG that the world is ROUND ... awww ...

Holy fuck ... the world really is just GOING TO SHIT right now, clearly ...

Awwww ... seriously, Orym, he only did it because he LOVES YOU. You could totally tap that if you want to. Which we KNOW you do.

Ashton: "Do you know Stairway to the Astral Realm?"

Oh, so that's it for the night? Okay. And time for a break ...

Oh my gods that Beason advert was complete genius ...

The Lodge of the Eclipse. Oh, it's a jazz club? Cool ...

Rooms for the night? Good. Oh, Essek has WAYS, does he? Interesting ... wow, THAT is a very good deal indeed ...

Essek does squats, apparently ... XD

Come on, Esxsek, be FUN for once. Surely it's been a while since you've done this kind of thing ...

A BURLESQUE SHOW?!!! Really? O.O

A sexy buxom half-orc? Nice ... that's definitely my style ...

Laudna, chill! Dear fucking gods ...

Yoink! Ashton grabs some of Fearne's lacy stuff ... and she lets him ... :3

Yeah, Dorian and Chetney are clearly having a blast ...

Madame Feathered-Face? Oooooh ... a sexy dwarven fan-dance? Nice ... a feathery beard? Cool ... oh WOW that is AWESOME, she can FLY with it! O.O

Ashton is showing Essek his head ... oh, this should be interesting. He knows A LOT about this particularly kind of stuff, if I remember ... oh, NOW what the fuck is he doing? Seriously? This feels ... rash ...

Dunamis ... yeah, I thought so ... needless to say he is concerned but also DEEPLY impressed ...

Ashton does the rainbow sparkle thing ... Essek: "Now you're just showing off.

Chetney's heart is lost once again ... XD

Orym is checking out Otohan's sabre ... okay ...

Ah, the Luxon Beacons ... yeah ... oh, so it looks like Ludinus and co have one or more at their disposal, then ... great ...

Ashton: "When you jump out of a window, you try not to blame the quality of the glass ..." Oof ...

Oh wow ... so they could actually use their own dunamancy to MESS THE KEY UP?!!! Yes, that sounds REALLY good ...

Awwwwwwww ... Fearne gets him talking about Caleb ... :3

Awesome ... hover, boy, HOVER ...

Much floaty foolishness ensues ... XD

The story of how Ashton first found Letters ... awwww ... oh, I am NOT alright now ...

Arts and crafts is fun ...

What is Orym going to do with this thing? Oh ... he's TRAINING with it? Whoa ... oh, he's CLAIMING IT? That is ... INTENSE ...

The Wildmother? Oh ... man ...

Marisha: "The night before San Diego ComicCon ..." XD

Matt: "Tim Burton's Island of Misfit Toys ..."

Oh shit ... this is the first time Dorian's seen LIVING Pate ... "Oooooooh ... is it too late to back out of this now?" Yeah ... oh, he is THOROUGHLY disturbed ... I am NOT surpised ... this is a TRULY SURREAL scene ... in a truly CREEPY way ...

Awww .. alone time for Orym and Fearne ... and here's Dorian ... the original trio back together ... :3

Finally Fearne leaves them alone to catch up ... oh my gods ... is THIS what we've been waiting for for so long? O.O

Time for a much-earned rest, yeah ...

Laudna does NOT like Orym with Otohan's blade ... oh fuck ... not NOW ... FUCK OFF, Delilah!

Fuck ... she KNEW Ludinus? Great ...

Seriously Laudna, DO NOT listen to this evil bitch ... oh no ... I mean it, this is SO STUPID ...

Oh shit ... is Otohan's sword SENTIENT? Is this gonna be another Grog situation?

Yeah, Orym's ridiculously aware EVEN WHEN HE'S ASLEEP ...

Darkness? REALLY?!!! Oh my gods ...

No ... sriously, Laudna, DO NOT Wither the vines ... oh fuck, she's doing it ... Wither & Bloom ... oof ... and she has to be PRECISE doing it ... oh fuck ... O.O

Yeah, of course this wakes him up ... and he's in total darkness while he's QUITE CLEARLY being fucking ATTACKED ... oh yeah, he's IMMEDIATELY ready to fight regardless of the conditions ... NOW what?

A contested Dexterity roll? Oh fuck ...

Dear fucking gods this is going SO BAD SO QUICKLY ... and now everybody else is waking up too ... perfect ...

Mage Hand? Really? Okay ... this is ALL bad decisions at this point ... and now she has the fucking sword ...

Seriously Laudna, I'm saying it AGAIN, DO NOT trust this evil c£$%!

And now they can all see ... great ... oh this looks SO BAD ...

Fuck ... is this REALLY starting to turn into a genuine conscious fight between these two right now? Oh no ... she's going to FLEE?!!! This could get even worse so quickly ...

Well that's it then ... the sword is OUT of her grasp ... now what?

Just STOP!!! Right now, please just STOP before this gets so much worse ...

Both of them are making VERY GOOD POINTS right now and I don't like where either of them are going with this ...

Ashton is doing something SO FUCKING SMART right now and I'm here for it ...

Fearne can Identify the sword? Okay, yeah, totally do that, that's really smart ...

Imogen casts Detect Thoughts on Laudna ... there is a collective intake of breath around the table and I don't blame them ...

Whispers? Oh, here we go ...

Chetney's been asleep this whole time? Wow ...

Be VERY CAREFUL Fearne ... Ishta the Summit Blade ... of NOW we get the little card? Matthew fucking Mercer!

Wake up, Chet! We need you ...

"Geometry and stuff" XD ... I love how rudimentary Fearne's understanding of Chetney's abilities is ...

Grim Psychometry ... here we go ...

Oh this is some TRULY UGLY SHIT ... this blade is HORRIBLE ... oh fuck, Zephrah? No, I don't want this ... don't do this, Matt ... seriously this thing should not be used again ...

Chetney VOMITS. Of course he does ...

Wait ... nobody else knows about his deal with Morri ... did he just OUT his deal with Morri? SERIOUSLY Orym?

Can Dorian finally break this standoff?

Oh for fuck's sake ... now it's Laudna against Imogen ... this won't end well ...

Imogen: "Let it go." Laudna: "Why?" Imogen: "Because I don't think it's YOU that wants this."

She just LEAVES? What?

And now Fearne tries to stop her ... oh boy ... now Imogen's going out after her ...

Oh fuck ... Delilah? Seriously? Tell me she's now being full-on fucking TAKEN OVER right now ... Laudna's ABSORBING the knife ... bloody hell ... this is HORRIFYING ...

Fuck! It IS her! Not good! Not fucking good! A "Delilah CAGE"? Fuck ... great ... now it's BOTH OF THEM TOGETHER ... I hate this ... seriously, did they come up with this in advance? It feels like they did and I HATE IT ...

Holy ... I LOVE you and it made that all go away? CAN their love really be strong enough for this? Suddenly I'm SO WORRIED that it's not going to be enough ...

THAT'S where he ending it? Fuck ... oh this is SO MUCH right now ... that was INTENSE ...

I'm SO SCARED for them right now ...

[radiojamming]

My ass fell down the Sherlock Holmes tree A G A I N and I am currently hitting every branch on the way down so literally anything you know about sending telegrams is useful information to me. Do they need stamps. How long do they take. Do I have to say Stop after every sentence or is that just a comprehension convention. IS IT A MORSE CODE THING

I AM REVVING MY ENGINES ABOUT THIS ASK AHHH LET'S GO

Telegrams did not need stamps. They were usually sent from one telegram office to another and were distributed outward by dedicated telegram couriers from that company. Most of the time, this system was faster than the mail.

Which is to say--THEY ARE SPEED. At telegraphy's height in the early 20th century, you could easily send a message across an entire country in a day. Telegram messages would get relayed up and down lines from office to office, sometimes passing through places like railroad stations, before arriving at the office closest to the recipient. Transatlantic messages shot across undersea cables in record time! It was bonkers! It's probably Samuel Morse's first message in his code (he didn't invent the telegraph, but the code's important) was: "WHAT HATH GOD WROUGHT"

So the STOP thing is funky. There's a myth that people used it because telegraph companies provided the word for free in place of paying for punctuation, but that's probably not true. What is true is that the STOP really started showing up in telegrams during World War I. In this case, the STOP separated sentences clearly so messages wouldn't get misinterpreted and potentially cause things like horrible war disasters if someone read something incorrectly. Supposedly, the public caught onto using STOP and continued using it long after it was no longer necessary. It became a style of convention! It was en vogue!

(An aside is that one of the alternatives to STOP was using the numeral 30 in place of a period. This practice, as far as I'm aware, comes from newspapers using 30 to signal to the typesetter that they were at the end of a column. You can still find clippings of old newspapers that use this method! And sometimes you find telegrams using the same system!)

You, as the sender, would also pay by letter. This is why telegrams sound to us like these choppy, informal messages that are very easy to make fun of. If I remember correctly, the average length of an American telegram was about 11-12 letters. Very few people had the means to send long, flowery telegrams to each other or observe strict grammar rules. It was a whole lot easier to send the word NO than to say "I cannot come to your party, Geraldine, for I have a strong disdain for you as a person". It's also fun to look at some telegrams to see an early form of our text messaging acronyms. Some of them are so short that they're nonsensical to us.

So why send a telegram that says NO, anyway? Why not send a letter or, better yet, call the person? Because at the peak of telegraphy, both of those latter things are expensive and not always reliable. A rural farmer might not have the funds to make a long distance call, or straight-up doesn't have a telephone line! And what if their letter gets lost in the mail? What if the message is urgent? This is partially why a critical announcement of something like thee Armistice herself is delivered via telegram rather than someone calling and saying, "Yippee! The war's over!" Say it in tiny words and say it faster!

To date (and what I love to say to the kids I teach at the museum), sending a telegram is faster than sending a text message. If I sent the word NO through a telegraph line, it's already at its next stop the second I send it. If you texted the same word, you'd have to open the message prompt, type out the letters, send it, encode it, bounce it from a tower to a satellite and back down to another tower, have it go to the recipient's phone, decode it, and wait for them to open the prompt to read it. My NO is already there. :) (Now, I grant, it's going to take longer to get it on paper and sent through a courier to someone else, but if I work at a place like a railroad station and I'm sending a message to another station, then it's faster!)

Depending on the year you're looking for, there are a few different ways to send the telegram itself. There are telegraphic typewriters! Punch cards! Punch ribbons! Some guy wearing headphones and using a pencil! Someone else standing on a post and wildly waving flags around! A thing called a wigwag! Endless options!

[motorhearted]

PROLOGUE.

{ NEXT. }

November 20th, 1918.

The war is over.

On the eleventh day of the eleventh month, everything became still. Germany surrendered and the Allies have won. An armistice has been signed. Many lives have been lost. But it is over.

I am returning to the United States of America with Eugene, but I am afraid we will both be saying our goodbyes to our dearest friend Jean-Joseph. For now, at the very least. He is to remain in Europe and help his loved ones in France. 

I am excited to witness the world in which I was manufactured, for I had no brain back then. I have since been given life in the most extraordinary of ways. Eugene is to remain at my side as we travel through the States, displaying my talents and showing humankind what the automobile is truly capable of. 

It is important to note that at this point these are mostly Eugene’s thoughts and not my own. I have been given an aid to write, but it is the only message I can write until it is replaced. This will be improved in the future, so I may write my own thoughts and say my own words. I hope that is soon. 

Eugene sees a world in which the automobile is just as capable as man, perhaps even superior to man. I will be considered the first citizen of a new age. The automobile will bring peace and prosperity to a world that currently licks its bloodied wounds. 

We will make sure of it.

[scotianostra]

On June 21st 1919, 74 warships of the German fleet were scuttled in Scapa Flow, Orkney.

Learning that the German High Seas Fleet was to be turned over to the Allies, the Germans scuttled their own fleet at Scapa Flow, Scotland, on June 21, 1919. Before the British became aware of what had transpired, the fleet was almost beyond salvage and the German Navy, for all indent, had ceased to exist. As punishment, the Germans had to deliver almost everything left afloat in Germany, including cranes, tugs, and service craft.

The sinking of Germany's captive Imperial Navy off Orkney in 1919 signalled the death of the Kaiser's Reich.

Following the end of World War I in November 1918, 74 German ships were interned in Scapa Flow, a shallow, sheltered bay in the Orkney Islands north of Scotland that had served as one of the Royal Navy's key bases during the war.

The story of their scuttling, which inspired plays and films in the 1920s, was dramatic enough: Skeleton crews, disaffected and sick after months on board, had surreptitiously loosened portholes, drilled holes in bulkheads and left watertight doors open, waiting on the order from their commander, Admiral Ludwig von Reuter, aboard the fleet's flagship, the Emden.

Von Reuter, in turn, was waiting for the outcome of the peace talks in Paris, where the fate of Germany's ships was to be decided. Historians believe that von Reuter had been ordered to sink the ships at all costs (a violation of the Armistice agreement), but only if, as was expected, the Allies decided that they were to be seized. France, in particular, was said to be keen to acquire extra ships.

The British Navy suspected that the Germans were planning to sink the ships and prepared plans to stop them, but von Reuter found an opportunity in an alignment of circumstances: a delay to the signing of the Treaty of Versailles, which the German admiral was not kept informed of, and a bright day on June 21 that allowed the Royal Navy to leave the bay to go out on exercises.

After von Reuter sent out a signal by semaphore and searchlights at around 11:20 a.m., sea cocks, flood valves and internal pipes were opened. It took an hour for the news to reach Admiral Sydney Fremantle of the Royal Navy, leading the exercises, and another two for his fleet to return to Scapa Flow, by which time crews were only able to save 22 of the ships.

During the scuttling, some of the Germans were shot for refusing to go back to their ships to stop them from sinking, And 21 were wounded, mostly from bayonet wounds and being hit with rifle butts.

Thirteen World War I German sailors are now buried in a cemetery on the Orkney Islands: Nine were shot, and the others died during their internment — most probably victims of the flu.

The conditions during the internment were poor. Twenty-thousand Germans were initially brought to Scapa with the ships, though that was gradually reduced to about 1,800 by the time of the scuttling. The British were very strict, and tried everything to avoid allowing the sailors to get into contact with the local population here Life was pretty harsh, especially in autumn and winter. The weather here is pretty rough.

They weren't allowed off the ships. Their supplies had to come from Germany. We wouldn't give them anything. So it would have been pretty grim for them.

That segregation was partly motivated by fears of a spreading flu epidemic on board — but the British may also have had another "contamination" in mind: the spread of communism across Europe. The previous year's revolution in Germany had been started by mutinous sailors, and the vestiges of the class resentment were still on board.

There was still a lot of tensions between the officers and the rank and file, Many of the red sailors made clear that they were revolutionaries, and they to some extent even showed they despised their officers — by stamping on the decks to make it impossible for von Reuter to sleep. He eventually had to change his flagship because he got no sleep.

Nowadays, the last remains of all this drama (many of the ships were later raised) lie 30 meters below the surface. Scapa Flow has become a popular diving spot, where amateur regularly come to take a closer at the Kaiser's old ships.