#I really love that 'comes back swinging every time' note. persevering characters just get me.........

[triangle-strategy-notes]

Trish Concept Art

Trish's concept art! Translation notes and image ids under the cut.

Translation notes:

Full disclosure that I did this page a few months ago and forgot to write down notes as I did it, so I can't actually remember all the hiccups I ran into. So take these page's translations with even more skepticism than normal haha.

"Comes back swinging every time" was more literally "Gets up/comes back many times without getting discouraged."

"Leave it to me" might have also been "don't leave it to me". It has a negative particle so I was leaning towards translating it as "don't," but every auto-translator I ran it through ignored the "don't," which leads me to believe it might be an idiom of some sort, so I left the "don't" off. "Leave it to me" also seems to make more sense contextually.

The whole "mother supports the father's weak points" read pretty ambiguously to me. I'm not sure if they're talking about Travis (who's labeled "Father") or if they're referring to that faintly-pictured guy to the right of the family sketch. Since the arrow is there pointing towards the faintly-pictured guy, I'm inclined to say it's talking about him, but I'm not certain.

Image ids:

[id: Two pages of concept art from the Triangle Strategy artbook centered around Trish. The first page has a colored and uncolored version of her canon portrait, as well as a designer's note that reads, "In the beginning, I requested this character be drawn as someone who fights in a yet-peaceful setting (i.e., a character who isn't introduced as a fighter on any one side of the war). I remember that Mr. Ikushima was very excited to complete it. (Yasuaki Arai)". The second page is labeled, "Bandit Girl", and has several additional sketches of her. On the top half there's a note that reads, "Thief clan color test, picturing their hideout somewhere in Country A." There's a large color drawing of Trish next to it, with a label to her hair that reads, "Red hair." There's a smaller sketch of Trish spinning a bolas weapon around that's labeled "Weapon idea", as well as "Special Weapon 'Bolas'" and "Tangles around an animal's legs and immobilizes it." The second half of the page is labeled just "Bandit". There is a large sketch of Trish in what appears to be a bar fight. There are a list of bullet points beside her reading, "Hard to dislike, Tomboy, Comes back swinging every time, Short-tempered". There's another sketch of her family and herself as a young child, with her mother and father labeled. There's also another man drawn faintly to their right who appears to be Trish's grandfather. A note reads, "The father organized and led the previous generation of thugs and was well-respected for it. The mother supported the father's weak points." Another sketch of Trish has the dialogue, "Leave it to me," as well as a caption that reads, "I grew up carefree, surrounded by thugs!" Another drawing of Trish standing with some of her father's band has the note, "She has a pop/mascot type of look in this pose." There are two illustrator's notes at the bottom. The first reads, "She's so cute with her flashy grin and arms folded like her father. She even got her curly hair from him…….! (Rina Yoshiura)" The second reads, "I like the bandit girl Trish as a set with her father! I like lively and easy-to-understand characters, so they were easy to come up with. (Naoki Ikushima)" /end id]

[soobrat]

*･༓☾ bloodshot // johnny ☽༓･*

chapter ii // masterlist

*pairing*

you x johnny + some jungwoo (and I guess Taeyong?)

*chapter rating* mature

*warnings* explicit sexual content, mentions of slurs and sexism (it’s another jungwoo smut chapter)

*word count* 3.03k

*disclaimer(s)* Once again I don't think nayeon, johnny, or lucas actually act this way, and this goes for everyone in the future

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

"Again?" Your eyes lit up. Jungwoo has never had so much drive before.

"I wanna give you all my love and attention until neither of us can take it anymore." He caresses your cheek and you melt into him. Your bed fitted with brown silk sheets and a tan comforter became a sort of sacred fortress in the past two months. Jungwoo has been an angel through the come down of the incident.

"Jisoo told me you haven't been giving her as much attention, though." You lace your fingers with his, noting every mole and mark down his arm. Jungwoo sighs.

"I know... I just hate seeing you like this. If only she was able come and cuddle with us."

It's been a month since you and Jungwoo made it official. It didn't feel like anything changed, you wonder if open relationships always felt this way.

"You just want to watch Jisoo and I kiss." You roll your eyes. Jungwoo shoots up from the bed.

"You guys kiss?!" You snort at his baffled expression.

"No, and I prefer it that way. I'm pretty sure Jisoo prefers our relationships separate as well." You glance at him, knowing he knows you're right. He huffs in defeat before falling back onto the bed.

"Imagine how great the three of us could be, though." Jungwoo pouts, seemingly forgetting about round 4.

No matter how much he pouted, you and Jisoo were 100% platonic. You liked you guys' dynamic and neither of you wanted to change it.

Those two together almost made you forget about all the online ridicule you received. Almost.

You couldn't leave Taeyong. The others, no sweat off your back. Taeyong, however, was your first love. And although you had no more romantic feelings for him, you still loved him. Even if he was dating a girl who made your life a living hell. You could cut off Johnny and Lucas, but not Nayeon. If you had to do anymore streams with that devil you'd scream.

You groan as you die again. Good thing you were near spawn anyway. You hurry and gather your items before the ridicule commences.

"____ you're really fucking everything up. This must be why women are inferior." She purposefully puts a shit-ton of nasality in her voice when she talks to you. It makes you want to rip your ears off your head. Taeyong's laugh reads of disbelief.

"Nayeon why would you say that?!"

You just laughed awkwardly. How do their viewers not die of boredom? It's the same god-forsaken cycle. Nayeon makes a self-loathing sexist joke, Taeyong pretends to be shocked, the chat erupts in response. You wonder if men get off on women constantly stating that they're inferior.

"Ugh just fucking come with me." Nayeon's character sprints off before you could think.

"Wait a minute!" You jump and run at her. You switch to your iron sword, pretending to strike her from behind. Your mind wanders as you pretend to hit her. What has your life become? You almost jump at the sound of Nayeon receiving damage. She gasped like someone killed her dog, not someone accidentally hitting her on Minecraft.

"What the f-" You chut as Nayeon starts swinging her diamond sword at you.

"When did you get diamonds?" You try and jump and avoid her but she still hits you twice. You laugh uncontrollably as you try to get away. Taeyong reacts in disbelief, as usual.

"Girls! Stick to the plan!"

"I only have one heart!" You hurry and equip your shield to defend yourself.

"You hit me!" Nayeon exclaims. You notice the nasality is gone, and that you're having fun. Your smile nearly splits your face in half. You block her attacks and deal a good amount of damage until she dies. You laugh, tears in your eyes. You could get used to this, possibly finally have a female streamer friend?

You stop laughing when you notice how quiet it was. Then you hear sniffling.

"____ why can't you take a fucking joke? You're always so violent over fucking jokes!"

Then issnayeon went offline. She left the discord call. You and Taeyong were silent. Then Taeyong left as well. You were afraid to look at your chat. You clear your throat, suddenly very aware of the webcam pointed at your face.

"That was really odd, I guess I misunderstood the situation." You were beginning to get defensive, but you knew that wouldn't end well. Your eyes flicker over at your second monitor against your own wishes.

Flashes of 'cunt', 'snowflake', and most importantly, 'apologize' were visible from the chat. So you did apologize.

"I'm sorry to Nayeon and her viewers for being childish. I clearly misunderstood the situation," You paused, trying to gather your thoughts and blink away the tears stinging your eyes. You were such a baby.

"I'm also sorry for... uh... forcing my personal feelings and beliefs into a video game and onto Nayeon. I hope you guys understand where I'm coming from and accept my apology. Anyways, I think that'll be it for the stream tonight guys. I'll see you Wednesday."

You knew you weren't supposed to abruptly close the stream, especially without a closing screen. You just wanted to escape quickly. The stinging got worse until warm tears rolled down your cheeks. Everything that just happened was suddenly clicking. You were in for a shitstorm. More tears stream down your cheeks as you feel your phone buzz. You pick it up, blinking tears away.

"Jisoo..." Your voice quivered. Why were you so sensitive?

"Just breathe, okay?" Jisoo spoke calmly and with warmth but all you could think about was the aftermath of all this. Jisoo watched every stream she could, so maybe she saw.

"Could you see me tear up on camera? Was it obvious?" The panic in your voice was very evident?

"What? Who cares about that, ____ Nayeon's a bitch-"

"I do! Now I look like even more of a pussy, and everyone's gonna know that I'm sensitive-" You hiccup, trying not to sob.

"You're not a pussy. If anyone's a pussy here, it's Nayeon. You have to endure mockery from other streamers or your own chat every time you stream, and you keep persevering. Most of those people calling you a snowflake couldn't do the same." The passion in Jisoo's voice made you realize why you loved her. Why you were so glad you met her through Jungwoo.

"I don't want you to ever lose your fire for combatting sexism. Don't let these online idiots distract from the fact that sexism is our reality. You're not a pussy for not tolerating jokes about shit you deal with on a daily basis from people who would never understand."

Your sobs echoed throughout your room. You weren't crying because of the chat or Nayeon anymore, though. It was because of how thankful you were for Jisoo. Deep down, you didn't even believe the things you preached yourself. A small part of you envied Nayeon. The fact that she could laugh at those jokes and even say them herself.

You wondered how much easier it would be if you just... gave in.

You had just come back to streaming two months after the first incident, and now you had to take another break. At least until the internet cooled down. This all spurred from something so stupid, but it just enough for people to further their sexist narrative. Johnny was quiet about the incident, but Lucas was as loud as ever.

"Imagine being so butthurt about a joke." He tweeted. Your thumb hovered over the tweet. You shouldn't. You shouldn't read the replies. You really shouldn't read the replies.

You click the tweet and scroll to the replies, heart pumping.

"People have gotten so much more sensitive, can't say shit these days."

"She was about to cry... over a joke."

Hand trembling, you went to read more for some stupid reason. You were getting so worked up, why were you doing this to yourself?

"You guys scream "it's just a joke" but then cry yourself to sleep when a girl says KAM."

You perk up. People are defending you? That tweet was so close to passing the others in likes as well. You swiped more.

"I'm glad she speaks up against those unfunny assholes. I'm actually pissed she apologized."

"Nayeon is the butthurt one here. Boohoo someone hit you in a game."

"Your jokes aren't funny."

There were still tweets bashing you, but there was significant pushback. You smile. You like all the tweets defending you. This would probably bite you in the ass later, but you didn't care. You even retweeted one.

"I don't even like _____ but this 'controversy' is the dumbest thing to get headlines I've ever seen. You people need a hobby."

You had yet to see the headlines, but Lucas' tweets about the subject were probably the reason it was blowing up. Filled with a shot of confidence, you wanted to see who's name was trending.

At number two is issnayeon. Of course, Nayeon is a lot more popular so her name would be mentioned a lot more. Something else catches your eye near the bottom of the screen, however.

jonssuh.

Curious, you click the topic.

"Since we're talking about ____, can we talk about how you guys called her crazy and never questioned jonssuh?"

The tweet seemed to spark conversation, racking in a serious amount of engagement.

"jonssuh is lowkey the one who initiates all the sexist shit"

"____ is a psycho snowflake, that's why no one questioned jonssuh"

It was interesting to see how split the replies were. Within days there was a rift in the streaming community. You were either Team ____ or Team Johnny. You weren't sure how Johnny got dragged into this when it was about you and Nayeon, but it was truly fascinating.

Speaking of Nayeon.

"Out of everyone involved, she's receiving the most flack." You scan the board, wracking your brain for your next move. All you could focus on was the hum of Jisoo's air conditioner and dogs barking down the hall from her apartment.

"Good. I'm sorry but she started this shit. I don't hate the girl but man she has some issues she needs to work out. Hurry and move by the way! This is why we need a timer."

Every move seemed flawed by this point. You were too hasty in the beginning. You sigh before moving your Queen.

"Well I hate her." You settle back into your chair, folding your arms.

"Yeah. I know." Jisoo swiftly scoops up your queen. You groan, tossing your head back.

"I thought I really planned that out nicely." You cross your arms tighter as your expression soured.

"Sorry babes. Also, about Nayeon. She's a woman, too."

You look up at Jisoo, who's still looking intently at the board.

"Huh?"

"I'm just saying. She's struggling just as much. Hurry and go!"

You roll your eyes, refusing to process her hubbub. You had to focus on how to plan your game better.

For the most part, you ignored the online battle, especially Lucas' endless subtweets. You unfollowed both Lucas and Johnny after this whole debacle, which according to Jisoo only escalated things. It was all out war.

You unfortunately couldn't escape the headlines. Your name was synonymous with oversensitivity now, while Johnny's was synonymous with sexism. You eventually caved in and spectated the battle. There was a lot of support for both sides, but the criticism was loud. Especially well worded criticism from respectable sources.

Instead of calling you a snowflake, popular youtubers argued that your actions directly hindered people's right to freedom of speech.

As for Johnny, people were maturely stating how his actions, while funny to him, were extremely harmful and almost oppressive towards women.

Both sides argued that both your behavior had damaging effects on the streaming community. This was bad. You just wanted respect, goddammit.

The comments were filled with both of your supporters questioning their support of either of you. You sat in your gaming chair for what felt like hours, spinning in circles. What in the world could you do? Your phone began to buzz in your lap.

"Taeyong?" You pick up quickly after seeing the name. Taeyong hadn't talked to you since that day.

"No. Johnny."

Your shoulders drop.

"Why?"

"I don't know if you noticed recently but we're kinda fucked. And if you're referring to me calling on Tae's phone, you blocked my number so," Johnny sounded defeated. You couldn't even find joy in it, it was so pitiful.

"So you're calling me for..."

"We clearly both have some common ground to discover."

"I kinda disagree buddy." You chuckle.

"So what, you want to have a conversation over the phone?" You scratch at your head. What is going through this man's brain?

"No. I want to start collabing with you again. Just me and you."

You freeze.

"How that fuck would that fix anything? You think spending more time together will magically make us get along? You do understand why I don't like you, right?"

"Whatever- look we don't have to actually find common ground. We could fake it so we can stop getting fucked up the ass by youtube essays." Johnny was starting to get his usual pissed off tone.

"Okay, yeah." You shrug as if he can see you. You can hear him shuffling eagerly.

"Really?"

"Fuck no." You hang your phone up before tossing it on your bed. You could handle this on your own. You had a genuine purpose for your actions. Johnny was literally just selfish and using low hanging (offensive) fruit to get more subs. People would understand you.

You adjust your tripod, making sure it was angled perfectly. It was simple, you'd just sit down and be straightforward with your side of the story.

"Hey guys. I know there has been a lot of craziness going on, and I just wanted to explain myself."

You explained how the streaming community made you feel as a woman. How you didn't regret not giving in to the sexism. You felt confident that at least your supporters would come back around.

-

"You've refreshed YouTube at least 80 times already. I came over here to take your mind off of things." Jungwoo wrapped his arms tighter around your waist. The light from your phone reflected against your glasses. The video got one dislike immediately when you posted it, followed by three more seconds later. By now, there were hundreds of likes and a dozen dislikes. Your lip started to sting as you peeled the skin from it with your teeth. Your eyebrows were knitted tightly together as you skimmed the comments.

R slurs and snowflake's were a given, but most of them sympathized with you. You refreshed, scrolled, hearted, and repeat. As you scrolled more, the criticism came pouring in. You kept scrolling until you found what you were subconsciously looking for. Well worded, damning criticism.

"I love your content and have been watching you for a while, but if these people bother you so much, why do you still interact with them? I remember you saying a long time ago that you and Nayeon didn't get along very well... so why? I was waiting for you to cut all of them off but you never did. I'm glad the guys are gone but why is Nayeon still frequently streaming with you?"

Your initial response would be because of Taeyong, but you knew it was a horrible excuse. It just clicked that you were putting yourself through torture for a taken man who never even showed interest in you once. Did Taeyong really even care about you?

You physically shake the thoughts away before locking your phone.

"Finally." Jungwoo swipes the phone from your hand and tosses it away. Before you could protest, he tenderly kisses your lips. His lips were so soft. With tentative touches, he turned you to fully face him. He threads his fingers through the nape of your hair, deepening the kiss.

"Focus on me, okay?"

He moves one of his hands down your body. He slides his hand under your shirt, leaving goosebumps in its wake. You gasp and flinch at how cold they are. He smirks against your lips, hand squeezing your clothed breast. You sigh against his mouth before nipping at his bottom lip. He slips his hand under your bra. He pinches your erect nipples and you hiss.

With his other hand he cups your panty clad core. You grind into him, encouraging him to go further. He complies silently, sliding his hand into your panties. He sighs blissfully at how wet you are. He curls two fingers into your slick hole. They slip right in, the tips of his fingers brushing deliciously against your walls. Goosebumps crawl up your arms as you clench Jungwoo's arm.

Your senses are clouded as you focus on his touch. He felt so good. You bite your lip as you squeeze his arm harder. No man has ever made you feel this way. You revel in the way his fingers brush perfectly against your g-spot. Why were you worried about Taeyong anyway?

Taeyong. You furrowed your brows, trying to rid thoughts of him. The way tears filled his eyes when he laughed too hard. His intoxicating smell. His soft skin and hair. His kind eyes. His comforting touches.

"____?"

"Why does she still hang out with Taeyong and Nayeon?"

He hasn't been answering your calls or texts...

"Taeyong is like poison to her, she should cut him off."

He never defended you...

"Taeyong is ruining ____."

Did Taeyong ever really care about you?

"____! Are you okay?"

You feel numb as Jungwoo grips your shoulders. He tries to look into your eyes but you keep avoiding him.

"Let's go get cleaned up okay?"

"I think I'm still in love with Taeyong." Tears spill down your cheeks. You've cried more in the last few months than you have in at least a decade. It seems to all tie back to Taeyong somehow. Jungwoo was still for a second.

"Come on. Let's go clean up."

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　끝　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[tellusseries]

Character Short: Cat

It was surprisingly silent when Cat awoke, her entire body aching. She was alone, practically drowning in overstuffed pillows and thick blankets to help her 'feel comfortable'. She'd said time and time again that a more simple bed would be plenty comfortable, but apparently a certain level of decadence was expected of royalty. Just over a year of marriage and ten months of courting before that, and she still wasn't used to it. She didn't think she ever would be.

Attempting to sit up brought a whole new wave of pain through her abdomen, reminding her why she was in the bed in the first place. Craning her neck, her breath caught in her throat at the sight of the bassinet stood several feet from her bed. No sound came from it, and it alarmed her at first, before she rationalised that like her, the baby was probably just exhausted. She’d passed out almost as soon as they’d cut the umbilical cord, not even staying awake to hear the gender of her child. Labour had taken almost a full day.

Wondering how she’d had the great fortune to actually be left alone for once, Cat wearily shoved the blankets back, shifting her sore body into a sitting position, half propped up by several pillows. She was dressed in a clean nightgown, making her wonder who had changed her while she was unconscious. How long had she been out, anyway? She couldn’t see a clock anywhere nearby.

Cat wished she had a pair of slippers beside her bed, but reasoned that she probably wasn’t supposed to be getting up yet, anyway. She winced at the effort it took to swing her legs over the edge of the bed, carefully standing. Every muscle burned with exertion, but she ignored it. Walking the four shaky steps it took to get to the bassinet, Cat gasped softly. Swaddled in pale grey blankets, tiny face relaxed in sleep, was her baby.

There was a small card pinned to the head of the bassinet, and Cat’s eyes widened when she read it. ‘Baby Latham, Male’. Three words, and yet they made Cat’s heart skip a beat. Male. She had a son.

She looked back down at her baby, her little boy, studying him closer. There was a fine covering of downy white-blond hair on the top of his head, and his skin was a healthy pink. His body was covered by the blankets, but he looked about decent size. Cat hadn’t seen many babies, she wasn’t entirely sure what the norm was. She didn’t much care, though; her baby was perfect.

She had always thought all babies looked the same, facially, but she could see so much of James in her son it was astonishing. She knew the boy would have blue eyes when they opened, as all babies did, but she was sure they would stay that way. He had James’ nose, too. The chin, she noted with a smile, was all hers. Everyone had been saying since she’d announced her pregnancy that she and James would have beautiful children, and whatever her feelings for her husband she couldn’t help but agree.

There was a faint gurgling noise, and the baby screwed up his face in displeasure, blinking open wide blue eyes. His gaze landed on her quickly, and she grinned at him, reaching down to stroke a finger across his cheek. 'Hello, little one,' she greeted softly. 'It’s wonderful to finally meet you.'

'Catherine, you’re awake.' James’ voice was surprised, and Cat glanced over at the door, the smile not dropping from her face.

'James, look at him,' she urged, reaching out a hand towards her husband. He stepped closer, ignoring her hand to wrap an arm around her waist, half keeping her upright as he stood beside her.

'He’s gorgeous,' the blond man murmured, kissing her temple. 'Well done, I’m so proud of you.' Cat smiled, leaning into him slightly. The pair stood in silence for several long moments, staring at their child in awe as he blinked serenely back up at them, before James spoke. 'Would you like to hold him?' Cat nodded immediately, and James released her to reach into the bassinet, a grin coming to his face as the baby let out a series of coos and gurgles, happily allowing James to loosen his blankets and lift him from his bed. The young king kissed his son’s silk-soft hair, before offering him to Cat. She took the child with ease, having practiced with a doll the midwife had lent her. It was far, far different holding a real baby.

'Hello, my love,' she said quietly, automatically swaying to keep him settled. 'Aren’t you beautiful? You’ve got your Daddy’s handsome face, you lucky thing.' She smirked at catching the light flush rise on James’ pale cheeks.

'I think he looks a lot like you,' James argued. Cat rolled her eyes; she didn’t have the energy to correct him. Their son was far more like James than her. 'Have you thought of a name, yet?'

Cat paused, biting her lip as she looked at her son, who already seemed to be drifting off again. He would probably need feeding, soon. She had a name picked out for a boy, but she wasn’t sure James would like it. 'William,' she told him. 'William Christopher.'

'William Christopher Latham,' James sounded out, a smile on his face. Cat waited for the connection to be made, unsurprised when his smile faltered. 'William, wasn’t that…?' He trailed off, knowing better than to say his name around Cat. He snorted bitterly. 'I should have known.'

'It’s a strong name,' Cat declared, defending her choice.

'It’s his name. As if I needed another reminder that I could never be enough. Did you really expect me to be happy about you naming our son after your dead boyfriend?' He kept his voice low for the baby’s sake, but Cat could see the hurt in his eyes, and it made guilt pool in her stomach. Still, she wouldn’t change the name.

'Did you really expect me to just forget about him?' she retorted waspishly. James snorted bitterly.

'I’d hoped you might move on, at the very least!' He took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. 'I have done everything I can, Catherine. Everything I could possibly think of to make you feel loved, to make you feel part of this family. I have done so since before we got together! I’ve given you everything you could ever want, and it still isn’t enough for you!'

'The things I want can’t be bought with money,' Cat told him, voice firm. 'I am helping you lead your country, by your side, as your queen. I have given you an heir; a male one, in fact. That’s all I ever promised to do. I never promised to fall in love with you, James! I told you a thousand times that would never happen!' She had been telling James that since the day they had reunited after his imprisonment, and yet he had persevered, continuing to insist that it didn’t matter so long as she became his queen. She had done so, and was ruling now — Mary had abdicated not long after Cat and James had married, claiming that the loss of her husband followed by eight years held captive had taken its toll on her, and she just wanted to live the rest of her life in peace. She still lived in Latham Castle with them, but kept well out of any political affairs. That was Cat’s job, now.

'I don’t understand, Catherine,' James muttered, shaking his head. 'I thought you were getting better, I thought you were getting past him. It’s not like he’s ever coming back! Can’t you just accept that this is how your life is going to be, and stop dragging the past into it?'

'How can I stop dragging the past with me when no one will let us forget?' she asked plainly, tears coming to her eyes. Her aching muscles starting to scream at her, she passed the baby to James, stumbling to sit on the bed. 'Our past is brought up every bloody ten minutes!' It had angered her, at first, but it had been three years since the downfall of government and her skin had toughened considerably. But it seemed like every time she and James did something public, the news managed to bring up their past together in some form. It was difficult to move past losing her first and only love when she was reminded of him every time she stepped outside.

The argument halted when baby William let out a loud cry, his face turning red and fat tears leaking from his eyes. Cat shuffled back against the pillows, holding her arms out. 'He’s probably hungry, pass him here,' she instructed. Despite James’ anger, he obediently passed their child over, and Cat used one hand to unbutton the front of her nightgown. James turned beet red, making her laugh. 'Honestly, it’s nothing you’ve not seen before,' she muttered, bemused.

Once Will was happily suckling, Cat looked up at her husband, an apologetic expression on her face. 'I’m sorry, James,' she breathed, swallowing the lump on her throat. 'I know this isn’t what you wanted. I know I’m not what you wanted. But I’m trying my best here, I really am. You’re my best friend, you have been since we were born, and I do love you. But I can’t force myself to be in love with you, and I don’t think either of us would be happy if I pretended to be. I know you don’t like that I think of F— that he’s on my mind so often. But I can’t help that. And my relationship with him aside, he was a great man, and he deserves to be honoured. Naming the future king of Anglya after him… it’s nothing less than he deserves, for what he did. Of course, every one of my crewmates deserves the same, but I thought that William Harrison Matthew Benedict Christopher Latham was a bit of a mouthful. And it would be ever so unfair to exclude Alice,' she added, drawing a reluctant laugh from the blond. She hadn’t served on the Stormdancer for years, but she still considered them her crew. They had forged a bond that couldn’t be broken by mere distance.

James moved to perch on the edge of her bed, hands clenched at his sides. 'I’m trying, Cat,' he whispered, ignoring the way she stiffened at his use of her nickname. Hardly anyone called her Cat anymore, it was ‘inappropriate for a lady of her standing’. James hadn’t called her Cat since their wedding day. 'I know you can’t force yourself to be in love with me, but at the same time I can’t force myself not to be in love with you. It makes you uncomfortable, I know that. I try to restrain myself as much as I can, but honestly, Cat, it’s exhausting. We have a child. We have a baby boy, and he’s incredible, and the only thing that would make me happier right now would be to have you, too.'

'You do have me,' she told him, but he shook his head, reaching to lay a hand on her knee.

'Not in the way that matters, I don’t. You look at me like I’m going to give up on you any minute, like I’m going to decide I’m done trying to make you love me and toss you aside to look for someone else. Do you truly think so little of me?' She winced; when he put it like that, she sounded horrible. 'I’ve accepted that you won’t love me the same way I love you. I’m at peace with that. But what I can’t accept is the way you won’t allow me to even be a friend, you’re so busy reminding me that you don’t see me that way!'

Cat was about to open her mouth to insist that they were friends, but closed it again, lifting Will to her shoulder automatically to burp him when he finished feeding. James had a point. 'I just don’t want to give you false hope,' she said feebly, making him scoff.

'Don’t worry, you haven’t,' he retorted flatly. 'I’ve let a lot of things slide since we got together, Cat, and even before then. I let you get away with things that no one else can, because I love you, and because I’ve been desperate for you to love me back. But you act like this isn’t permanent, like it’s just a temporary fix until the real solution comes along! I know when we reunited you thought I only loved you because I was told we’d been betrothed, and I can forgive you for that, but for storms’ sake, Cat, it’s been three bloody years!' He sighed, shaking his head. 'The baby’s asleep, pass him here.'

She looked down, realising that he had indeed fallen asleep on her chest. Doing her nightgown back up, she allowed her husband to put their son back in the bassinet. When James sat down again, it was by Cat’s hip, and he took her hand in his. 'Love isn’t about wanting the other person to love you back,' he told her quietly. 'Love is about wanting them to be happy above all else, even if it isn’t you they’re happy with. And Cat, love, you’re not happy, and it kills me, because I can’t help but feel like this is my fault! I pushed you into leaving your crew, into marrying me. I got caught up in the propaganda until I couldn’t think straight.'

'It’s not your fault I’m not happy,' Cat insisted, because to deny she wasn’t happy would be a feeble lie and they both knew it. 'I chose to do this. I chose to become queen because I love this country and its people, because I want to be able to make a difference and this was the best way to go about that. I chose to marry you because we both knew you wouldn’t be able to do this alone, not after everything, and because you’re my friend. We both know how naive you were three years ago. I didn’t want you to get hurt because of that, so I chose to stay and protect you. The crew didn’t need me, not like you did.'

'Is that supposed to make me feel better?' he asked ruefully. 'That you married me because you thought I was helpless?' A bark of laughter escaped his lips. 'You were right, I suppose. I was useless when I first got out. But a lot has changed since then, Cat. We’re both different people, and you refuse to see that. And we probably should have had this conversation a long time ago, but, well, we’ve both been rather busy.' Cat half-smiled; that was the understatement of the century.

She patted the bed beside her, urging him to sit properly next to her, leaning against her mountain of pillows. He did so, and Cat turned to meet his eyes. 'We should have,' she agreed. 'But we can’t change that. I’m sorry, James. I’m sorry I’ve been so terrible, I’m sorry I haven’t given you a second chance, I’m sorry for all the things I’ve done to you in order to keep my distance. My intent was never to hurt you, I just didn’t want you to think my feelings had changed.'

'Well, I’d like to think they’ve changed a little bit,' James murmured, blue eyes twinkling playfully. 'You hated me for at least the first two months after you found Mum and me.' Cat laughed wetly, bringing a hand up to wipe at her cheeks.

'You were a brat,' she insisted lightly.

'I was,' he agreed. 'But so were you. Just a different kind of brat.' He reached an arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side, and Cat went willingly, resting her head on his shoulder. 'You’re my wife, Cat; you’re the mother of my child. This is permanent. I’m not going anywhere and neither are you, and for better or worse, we need to learn to live with that. Our country doesn’t need us to be as hands on as much as we used to; we have nothing to distract us from our many personal issues. But our priorities are different now. Gods, we’re parents. We need to set an example for our little boy, we need to raise him right and show him that love is a good thing. I don’t want him to have a childhood like mine, and I’m certain you don’t want him to have one like yours, either.'

Cat shook her head vehemently; she didn’t ever want her son to feel like his parents didn’t love him, the way she’d felt about her father. But worse, she realised with a sickening lurch, was the knowledge throughout her childhood that her parents didn’t love each other. Like many children in that situation, she had blamed herself for her father’s dislike of her and her mother. She didn’t want her baby boy to be put in the same situation, ever.

All at once, James’ words gained a startling clarity; he was right, of course he was. She’d been awful to him over the years, too busy focusing on her own feelings to even give a second thought to his. Yes, they’d had some good times, but since she’d got pregnant they had done nothing but argue, and she could admit that was her fault.

She turned to James, her eyes fond as she cupped his unshaven cheek. 'When did you grow up so much?' she whispered in awe, making him chuckle. He leaned in, his lips pressing to her forehead.

'You just weren’t looking, I suppose,' he teased, kissing her brow once more. 'I don’t need you to be in love with me, Cat. I’ve long accepted that isn’t going to happen. What I do need is for my best friend to stop being so stubborn and realise that she doesn’t need to push me away for my own sake anymore.' He pulled back a fraction, giving her the lopsided grin that always made her feel warm inside. Not the way Fox had made her feel, like her skin was on fire just by him looking at her. A comfortable, platonic warmth. Like with James around, nothing bad could happen.

'I was always told I’m too stubborn for my own good,' she replied, smiling back. James’ free hand reached up to brush the tears from her cheeks, his touch gentle. 'But I’m sure I can make an exception for you.' She wrapped an arm around his waist, hugging him close. 'Gods, I’ve messed this up something awful, haven’t I?'

'I’ve hardly been a shining example,' James pointed out. 'We rushed this due to circumstance, we both know it. Storms, you’re not even nineteen yet. In the time since you found me we’ve overthrown a government, rebuilt an entire nation, courted, married, become the reigning monarchs, and had a child. I was never given a chance to recover from my imprisonment, and in a way, neither were you.' Cat frowned, looking up at him perplexedly. 'You might not have been held the same way I was, but you were captive in your own home with Nathaniel as your father. Then he was dead and you were free, but before you could even take that freedom you were thrust back into politics and expected to know how to help run a country. You never got the chance to mourn him, or your mother, or Fox. All we’ve been doing the past three years is putting bandages over gaping wounds and hoping for the best, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d quite like to stop that now.'

Cat had never thought of it that way, if she was honest. She’d been so busy going from one crisis to the next that the thought of stopping to sort her own head out didn’t even seem to be an option. No wonder Mary had decided to retire quietly and live out her days sewing and reading. 'We’re adults, now,' Cat agreed. 'We’d best start acting like it.' James smiled, brushing her hair out of her face, dropping a kiss to her temple.

'For little William’s sake, if nothing else.' He paused, offering her a tentative smile. 'It is a strong name, after all. My great-grandfather was called William.' Cat beamed, kissing him firmly on the cheek.

'Thank you,' she breathed, feeling the tears start all over again. Gods, she would be glad when the pregnancy hormones were gone.

There was a knock on the door, and both of them looked up as it opened halfway, Sam entering the room with the faintest click of metal on metal. The mecha had been given a full overhaul once Cat became his new master, and had been serving them faithfully since the day Cat had moved into Latham Castle, shortly after leaving the Stormdancer for good. It still made her smile, seeing him working and well cared-for. 'Excuse my interruption, but Mistress Mary requests permission to enter and see the child,' he told them. 'If Mistress Catherine is not too tired.'

'No, no, it’s fine,' Cat insisted. 'Send her in, Sam, thank you.' The mecha bowed smoothly and left, replaced by a smiling Mary soon after. The blonde closed the door behind her, her footsteps soft as she approached the bassinet.

'Catherine, dear, how are you feeling?'

'Tired, sore, but otherwise… a lot better than expected,' Cat replied, glancing up at James with a smile. Mary hummed in approval at her words, peering down at the sleeping baby with awed eyes.

'Oh, he’s beautiful,' she breathed, hand coming to her mouth. 'James, darling, he looks just like you did as a wee’un!' Cat smirked, turning her triumphant gaze on her husband.

'Told you,' she muttered under her breath, and he nudged her gently in the side.

Mary didn’t pick up her grandson, not wanting to disturb his slumber, but stood for a good while just watching him, a smile on her face. Eventually she turned to the pair on the bed, wiping away the few tears that had escaped. 'You two make wonderful children. Have you named him, yet?'

Cat felt a hand slide into hers, James’ long fingers squeezing gently. Meeting Mary’s eyes, she spoke confidently. 'His name is Prince William Christopher Latham,' she declared. 'Will, for short.'

Mary’s eyes were knowing, and her gaze flicked to her son’s for a long moment, but whatever she found on James’ face only made her smile. 'Will,' she repeated. 'Yes, that will do quite nicely.' Cat grinned, letting out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding, just as Will evidently did the same, letting loose an enormous wail for someone of his size. Mary rolled her eyes, picking the baby up and easily passing him over to Cat, who cuddled him close between her and James, settling him easily.

Their marriage might not be built on romantic love, she thought as she played with her son’s tiny fingers. But she wouldn’t let it be loveless. Not like her parents’ had been. Will deserved better.