#THAT HE RESENTS because his father quite genuinely was not present for him

[vigilskeep]

thoughts on Gregoire kinlock hold? I can't decide if my mage warden would have been silently afraid of him, and it feels like while it's not hate he doesn't like the warden? (And his 'finally you know you're place' after u refuse Duncan's offer and say you'll face the consequences is crazy)

greagoir’s an interesting one! i think it’s important to remember he is presented as “the model templar” and can in many ways be taken as a standard. from a templar perspective including his own, he can be considered “one of the good ones”, an honour-driven man running one of the supposedly better and more lenient circles (as always, yikes!) with a considerable amount of grudging respect for his first enchanter counterpart

i don’t think greagoir hates mages, it’s not that passionate, and he would certainly object to the accusation. i do think that mages, to greagoir, are largely an inconvenience in the way of him performing his duty, especially the young ones who haven’t “settled down” into circle life, or refuse to. and that frustration can reach a little more of a boiling point with irving’s favourites, who i suspect he thinks take far too many liberties, especially with the recent history of anders’ various debacles. while he isn’t sure how, during the mage origin he definitely recognises that in some way irving has outplayed him, and he would certainly have punished irving’s student to see that balance restored. (arguably, just as irving wanted to see lily punished. this is a game of lives they’ve been playing for a long time, though the stakes for irving are naturally much higher and more personal.)

Sten: "This is why we cut the tongues from mages, in Par Vollen."

Greagoir: "I will admit to agreeing with your companion. Maker knows the Qunari would not have gotten themselves into this position."

greagoir wouldn’t start cutting tongues from every mage—he is a lawful man who acts according to the chantry’s will. he also wouldn’t vindictively want to start cutting tongues from every mage—he considers himself a reasonable man doing his duty, purposeful not cruel, and that would be monstrous. but what he does think is that it would be a practical solution to the problem he faces

i think a lot about his line, “it is the innocent folk of ferelden who matter. i would lay down my life, and the life of any mage, to protect them.” i take that as a very genuine assertion of his principles. it’s also an admission that the mages, from the children to the eldest, are fundamentally not “innocent folk”, whether because they are by nature “guilty” or because they are not quite people

as the arbiter of templar “justice”, i think it makes sense for a mage warden to fear him. i also think he’s someone who a different warden might be accustomed to being around and arguing with irving all their life, almost a secondary father figure, and not have learned to truly fear him. a third warden might be grateful to him for curbing other templars’ more vindictive or sinister impulses, and a fourth might firmly believe that fear of a disciplined templar is unnecessary as long as they follow all the rules, and a fifth might be a casually rebellious kid confident in the belief that he’s powerless and their first enchanter mentor will always protect them from him, and a sixth might bitterly resent him for punished or tranquil friends, etc. etc.

[assassinshadowgirl]

Jacob's Lingering Doubts

I just want to write it out. It's been in my mind and drafts for quite a while and I got the urge.

NOTE: Jacob in my fic is only 15 years old. He is based on AC Victory. (I like his Victory prototype and clothes) He was kidnapped and held captive by Starrick. He was troubled when Starrick confronted him about his late parents.

Enjoy the short fic.

---------

Back in the grand guest room, Jacob felt an overwhelming wave of weariness. The moment in Starrick’s office had left him raw, emotions simmering just beneath the surface. He was grateful, at least, that he could be alone now, away from those prying Templar eyes yet still held captive within Starrick's mansion.

However, Jacob also felt an uneasy heaviness settle over him. The high walls and ornate furniture seemed to close in, amplifying his isolation. He sank into silence, his mind a storm of thoughts and questions that Starrick’s words had stirred up.

Though Jacob had resisted in the moment, it brought up memories that he’d tried to ignore or dismiss. Jacob’s gaze drifted over the room, barely noticing the lavish surroundings as his mind drifted back to his father, Ethan.

Jacob remembered his father’s stern eyes, the way Ethan would often regard him with a seriousness that made him feel… less like a son, and more like a duty.

Ethan had always been a figure who cast a long shadow that Jacob was expected to live up to. But beyond his father’s firmness, there had been a distance, an ever-present barrier between them.

Ethan would offer a rare smile or a quick pat on the shoulder, but there was always a tension beneath these gestures that left Jacob feeling uncertain.

Despite his father’s efforts, Jacob had sometimes wondered if those gestures had been genuine or if they had been a mere duty Ethan had performed because Jacob was his son.

And now Starrick’s words clawed at his thoughts, making him question the father he had known. It was something Jacob had often wondered about in his quieter moments but had never voiced aloud.

His father had given him his silver locket that contained a photo of Ethan and Cecily - the only memento that Jacob had left. It was meant to be a keepsake to remind him of the love his father had insisted he had for him. But as Jacob touched the locket now, clasped tightly in his hand, doubts crept in.

His grandmother’s words came to mind, her gentle voice telling him over and over how much he resembled his father, like a splitting image. Yet she’d always added that his heart, his kindness, and his stubbornness - those were his mother’s gifts to him. He clung to those words as a child, finding comfort in them, but now… Now he couldn’t help but wonder - had his father loved him merely because he reminded him of Cecily? Did Ethan love him for who he was, or was it only that connection to his mother that kept him close?

Jacob felt his chest tighten, his hands shaking slightly as he sat on the floor by the side of the bed, his fingers still clutching the silver locket.

Memories that Jacob had kept buried were surfacing now, raw and painful. He thought back to those cold nights when he was young, his father’s shadow stretched across the room, his words few and often weighed down with a strange tension. Had he seen a son in Jacob or a reminder of the tragedy that had taken Cecily away? And what about the curse of being a Tainted One - born with golden eyes that marked him as different, as dangerous? Jacob wondered if his father had resented that as well. Did he truly love him, or had he taken him back out of some misplaced sense of duty?

During Ethan's final moments, tells Jacob to “Live on.” But live on for what? Jacob thought bitterly. Was this locket just another piece of the duty his father had felt toward him? Or had there been real love in those parting words?

He closed his eyes, the image of his father’s face flickering in his mind. There was a time when Jacob would have done anything to earn his approval, to hear Ethan say he was proud of him. But those words had never come.

“If only you were here, Father,” Jacob whispered, his voice cracking. But Ethan wasn’t here, and Jacob knew he never would be again. No answers, no assurances - only the lingering memory of a father that Jacob would never fully understand.

And now, the bitterness mixed with pain, until it spilled over. A small sob escaped him as Jacob pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, his head lowered. The weight of grief and confusion pressing on him, and he let it. He buried his head into his folded arms.

There was no one here to see him, no one to judge, and so he wept quietly, releasing the sorrow he had carried for so long. His shoulders shaking as he clutched the locket tightly. It was the only reminder he had of his father’s supposed love - a love he would never truly know if it was real.

“Father…”

The word slipping into the silence, a question, a plea, a final echo of the boy who wanted to be loved.

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 11 Thoughts

Chapter Eleven for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group!

The Underworld actually holds trials! Something we haven’t quite seen with Heaven so far, which makes me side eye them once more.

An explanation present in another translation that I found quite useful is what the Three Tribunes actually are. Or Three Orders as they are called in the J.F. Jenner translation. They are the Human Order, the Underworld Order and the Water Order. Interesting to see that ‘Water’ gets to be its own thing, though after short deliberation it does make sense given how many oceans and other bodies of water there are on the planet.

I really need to read Romance of the Three Kingdoms sometime, for some context as to why Li Shimin’s brothers seem to have beef with him. Well, extended context because the German translation explains this trivia bit! Li Shimin actually killed his brothers during a coup and forced his father to surrender the throne to him. So yeah, it’s understandable that they would be upset upon seeing him again.

Judge Cui messing with official documents like this is a bit eh. While it is kind of nice of him to go through with this favour for a friend, it is concerning how easily he did this.

It also brings up questions of how strict these “fate” things are. Heaven seems to insist they are extremely important and their every order needs to be followed for thing to function, but the Underworld seems to see it a bit more lenient.

Revisiting the situation with the dragon’s execution, was him being punished that harshly because of this pre-written fate which is essentially a prophecy? Or at least was that why specifically Wei Zheng was called in to execute him? If it is so that’s… well it’s really odd. How much of this is actually deserved fate and how much is downright fabricated by Heaven?

On a lighter note deities really seem to like their fruit! That’s pretty cute!

Picking up on a bit of translation detail I checked the Chinese original, as always with Google Translate, when I read “Griffin” and indeed it is not really a griffin as such, it just said demon/monster.

And repeating myself once more, whenever you see the colour green or blue mentioned, you can be almost certain that what is means is verdant.

The Tang Emperor coming back to live after three days specifically is pretty funny when you have context of different religions where similar things happened.

Liu Quan comes across as quite the self-centred idiot. He was far too willing to leave his children and for what? Because his wife couldn’t care for them anymore? That’s a big reason why he shouldn’t have thrown away his life! His children needed him most in that very situation!

Though his wife Li Cuilian wasn’t all that much better either. One little argument pushes her over the edge like that? Seriously? Either something was very wrong to begin with or there were additional important details which weren’t mentioned in the text.

It would be somewhat more believable if she got really drunk after the argument or something similar leading to her making an impulse decision to take her life just to spite her husband for that argument. She was seemingly quite restricted within the household, but it couldn’t have been an actually abusive environment or both of them wouldn’t have reconciled when they met again. At least there was no mention of them genuinely resenting each other or breaking up or something.

In the end they both got lucky that the Kings of the Underworld are such good guys and did all the work to get them back into the world of the living so they could get their full lifetimes.

At this point I mainly feel sorry for the children having to go through all this emotion turmoil because of their parents.

I’m starting to squint at the amount of women not being treated very kindly by the narrative and getting fridged under such nonsensical circumstances. And that is aside from the less than stellar treatment on display, which was considered normal back then. While it needs to be kept in mind that things were very different back when this story was written, overlooking this kind of stuff just because of that wouldn’t be right either.

Not the happiest note to end on, but an important one nonetheless.

[viihelii]

If you had the chance to change something about the dance of the dragons (TV show or book), what would it be? For example, how a character dies, which team a house is on,or an entire character personally. How would you change it to make the story better, in your opinion?♥️🖤💙💚

sorry for the late response, but you made my whole day 🖤💚

MAJOR spoilers for future seasons of hotd !!

tbh this is such a hard question because my first instinct is to save my favs and have rhaenyra peacefully ascend the iron throne, but i'll try to be realistic about it😭

i feel like in terms of the story, baelon living would've prevented the dance entirely. rhaenyra has stated before that she would be content with her father having a son and potentially being overshadowed by her brother. ("i hope for my father that he gets a son. as long as I can recall, it's all he's wanted.") baelon would've been named heir at birth, and i suppose rhaenyra would be expecting it and not care as much about being replaced, since this is her mother's son and not her best friend's + she'd be too caught up in her own grief to worry too much about baelon. she'd rightfully be bitter for a while, with her mom dying and now her father completely overlooking her in favor of "the son he's always wanted," but the guilt would catch up to viserys at some point and they'd (hopefully) reconcile.

with the succession secured, viserys wouldn't feel as much urgency to remarry and sire heirs, meaning he could either wait until laena was of age and then marry her to secure an alliance with the velaryon's, or double down on marrying alicent. if he did decide to move forward with marrying alicent, since there'd be no ambiguity surrounding the succession, his sons with alicent would be considered second to baelon, the same way they are presently second to rhaenyra. if baelon survived to adulthood, his father would eventually die of leprosy at 52 and he'd ascend the iron throne as baelon targaryen, first of his name, king of the andals and the rhoynar and the first men, lord of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. no dance, no dying of the dragons, no collapse of the targaryen dynasty. the end.

but obviously grrm loves the drama, so if the story plays out exactly how it does in the show, i'd say the one thing i'd change about the dance is jace's death. his death during the battle of the gullet was a HUGE hit to the blacks and they ended up losing one of their most valued commanders, a dragonrider and rhaenyra's eldest son and named heir. afterward, rhaenyra was purely driven by vengeance and was intent on reclaiming king's landing. as a result, people on dragonstone began to resent her for the losses they suffered during the battle and its aftermath.

jace did so much to benefit the blacks, and his actions aided his mother's cause long after his death (the pact of ice and fire, the hour of the wolf, etc) + he'd genuinely be such a good king with baela as his queen :( i know a lot of people think there would be some kind of glorified bastard uprising plot against jace in order to usurp him and force him to answer for the crime of bad hair color, but the aftermath of the dance left the realm in such desperate need of peace that they were willing to accept the ten-year-old son of "maegor with teats" as their new king. if jace had lived to the end, i'm assuming the majority of lords and smallfolk in westeros would be more than willing to forgive the bastard allegations and herald him as a hero and their rightful king. the small council would probably insist that aegon iii would be the better fit, but i'm quite sure when faced with this situation, the realm would prefer to have a seventeen-year-old war hero on the iron throne compared to his extremely traumatized younger half-brother

[shining-m00nlight]

It’s tragedy that binds us!

The Starks are coming to Riverrun to celebrate the birth of Robb Tully, Rickard Stark's first grandchild and heir to Riverrun. Making his mother, the Lady Catelyn Tully recall the tragic beginning of her marriage to her heir's father, Eddard Stark.

A little Birthday/Christmas present for @ladycatofwinterfell

“Are you well, my lord?" 

Catelyn Tully asked her husband as he was staring out of the windows of Riverrun, worried lines all over his young face.

"I'm fine, my lady. Thank you for inquiring about my wellbeing. It is most kind of you." 

Eddard Stark answered and while his word sounded truthfully spoken, the Lady auf Riverrun couldn't quite believe him.

So she asked again: "Are you nervous about your family coming to visit?"

Eddard turned his head back towards the river running outside the castle, apparently not wanting to look into her eyes.

"I am of course happy to see my family, my Lady. I am awaiting their arrival!" he answered. 

Catelyn felt like he was intentionally avoiding her question as well as her eyes. It made her heart feel quite heavy. Since they had married a year ago Cat had come to appreciate so many of her husband's qualities but it hurt her more than she was willing to admit, that he would always be closed off towards her and would neither share his thoughts or feelings with her.

At the beginning she thought he would just need some time to warm up, they had been married rather quickly after all. But as time went by and her husband stayed closed of to her, she started to worry about the reasoning her husband could have for not wanting to be close to her, in more than the physical way of their marriage bed. 

Maybe he resented her for being the reason he had to leave the North, which she knew he had a great love for. Or maybe he didn't like the fact that because of their marriage he was not the ruler of land or a household but merely a consultant to his wife. She knew how men generally thought about women and ruling. She had heard her own bannerman question whether or not she should rule. 

She didn't quite believe this was the cause for her husband's distant behavior because she had not heard words of complaints from her husband himself. Her Uncle Brynden had reported that her husband never agreed with the barbs drunk men make about ruling women and defended her should the man say something against their Lady. 

But she still tried to cling to this explanation because it would hurt less if her husband felt resentment towards her because she was a ruler and he was not, than the thought that her husband might just resent her for who she was as a person. 

To think that he found her lacking as a wife. That he might not like the way she looked, or laugh, or genuinely behaved. That he wished he married someone other than her. That he believed he would achieve more happiness with this other wife. That he was unhappy with her and that he blamed her and her family for this unhappiness.

They had married on the day that was supposed to be her wedding day with his older brother Brandon. Their wedding hadn't been their own and it had been rippled through with grief and sadness. A bit over a year ago then Stark had packed for their journey to the Riverlands to marry their eldest son and heir to the oldest daughter of Hoster Tully. In their last correspondence with Hoster Tully himself they had been assured they would be met with happiness and a big feast fitting to celebrate the marriage of the young couple.

Instead they were met with grief and sorrow. During their time on the road horror had visited Riverrun. 

--------------------------Flashback--------------------------

Hoster Tully's young heir of only seven years had decided to go for a swim in the river that flows around Riverrun. But the weather that day was as unpredictable as the gods. In a matter of minutes, the sunny day turned into a storm that transformed the slight current of the river into a dangerous death trap. 

While trying to bar the windows against the storm a maid had spotted a little red dot amongst the blue water and had screamed and immediately ran for the Lord of the castle. 

When Hoster Tully heard the news that his son might be drowning, he did not wait a second to run outside towards the river. Yelling at people to find his son, still hoping the maid was wrong and his son would be found safe in the castle. But he wasn't. 

By the time Lord Tully reached the water, the message of what was happening had reached the rest of his family. All three wanted to follow their Lord to the river. Brynden however ordered Lysa and Catelyn to stay behind and to stay safe from the storm. Lysa obeyed but Cat could not stay behind if her brother was in danger. 

She followed Ser Brynden as soon as he turned his back to his nieces. Lysa yelled at her to come back but the older sister didn’t listen. When they had reached the river they found a small figure on the river bank. 

The red hair marked the person clearly as Little Edmure. But nothing else reminded Cat of her baby brother. Never had she seen him so still and silent. He was always loud and lively. Even when he sneaked into her bedchamber late at night, because of his bad dreams, he would toss and turn the whole night, snoring and sometimes even talking. 

And now nothing moved. Not even his hair or his clothes moved in the wind, they were so soaked through that they did nothing but cling to the little body. Catelyn would only feel the horror of seeing her dead little brother with his skin turned blue from the cold water later, in the moment however her heart was pumping the blood through her veins at an almost violent speed, not letting her stop to take the time to grieve. 

She frantically looked further down the river, to find her father. Her eyes quickly located him. He was still in the rushing water, only his head and his arms above the service, clinging to the land. Apparently he had found the strength to heap Edmure out of the water but had lost it for himself. 

Though different from his son, the Lord of Riverrun was still stubbornly clinging to life. He stared directly into his daughter's eyes. Catelyn thought the look in his eyes might hunt her forever, full of grief, lost and hopeless. Brynden and Cat both started to move towards their loved family members at once, but so did the large tree branch that the storm had ripped off the trees close to the river.

Her knightley Uncle had almost reached his brother when the Lord was caught by the brauch. It hit him in the head and dragged him further down the river, limbs tangled in branches and leaves.

Ser Brynden cried out, out of fear, grief and helplessness. Another thing from that day, that would give Lady Catelyn nightmares for years to come.

Having already lost family, Cat watched in terror as her Uncle Brynden dived into the waves without any regards for safety. The only thought in Catelyn’s head was that she would lose the three men of her family all at once. 

Instead of jumping in the river she followed the tree that took her father down the river on foot. Only in the back of her mind did she notice that the storm almost stopped. As if the Stranger had decided that he claimed enough that day. Running along the shore she could see her

Uncle's arms and head peek out the water now and then, making her more focussed on her father's whereabouts.

The river turned a corner and effectively stopped the tree and her father from moving further down the water. Catelyn saw Brynden fight with the leaves and branches to get to his brother. Cat was about to jump into the water herself when she heard her Uncle call over to her: 

“Stay there little Cat! Please! I got your father. Just help me pull him out of the water."

Her Uncle managed to free his brother and started to drag him through the water. Cat took the last steps towards the shore, bending down to pull her father out of the cold, grabbing him under his arms, laying him down as gently as she could on the ground cradling his head on her lap. The cold water soaked through her dress, making her shiver.

Her Uncle jumped out of the water, to her side taking his brother's head between his hands trying to check for signs of life. When Ser Brynden lifted his brother's head from her lap, Catelyn cried out. Her blue dress was stained not only with water but with blood, a lot of it. She tried to inspect the wound but she didn't know what could be done against the bleeding she found. So she ripped a big part of the cloth from her dress to press it against the wound in hope it would stop the bleeding. 

Brynden was still trying to get Hoster to wake up but with every second Catelyn lost more and more hope that her father would ever awake again.

"Come on brother, you stubborn old man. Open your eyes. Come on, open them!" 

Brynden pleaded with his brother. Telling him to open his eyes over and over again. But her father never opened his eyes again. Hoster Tully was gone and only his body remained.

Later his body had been sent down the river with the body of his little boy in his arms and lit up on fire by his brother's arrow, as his daughters watched. It felt ironic to Cat that they had fought so hard to get them out of the river just to send them back into it a few days after.

So when the Starks arrived, Riverrun was still in mourning for their Lord and his young heir. Even so, Riverrun was packed to the brim. Most of its bannermen had been on their way to Riverrun because of the upcoming wedding or had been ready to travel as soon as the Ravens, informing them of Hoster Tully death, arrived. 

They hadn't been able to send a raven directly to the Starks, while they were on the road, but they had sent one to Seagard, to inform them of the situation.

The Bannermen of the Riverlands were good loyal people, at least most of them and they wanted to pay their respect to their Lord. But Uncle Brynden had warned his niece that night that even the most honorable man would not pass the chance to gain power when it was in front of him.

He had been right. The Starks hadn't arrived in time for the funeral, so the Lords of the Riverlands had tried to use this occasion to gain something from her fathers death. As soon as the boat had descended down the river some Lord had raised the question of who was the Lord of Riverrun now. Some Lords claimed Ser Brynden should claim the title for himself as the only male Tully left, others were in favor of Lady Catelyn taking her fathers seat. 

Later Cat noticed that those most opposed to her had brought their daughters with them. Probably to fling them at her Uncle as soon as he agreed to become the Lord of Riverrun.

Those men were sorely disappointed when Ser Bryden shut their idea of him becoming Lord down almost as soon as it hit his ears. He made it clear that his brother would have wanted his daughter to rule the Riverlands after his passing, if his son couldn't just as he had desired before Edmure was born.

Lord Cox had not been willing to give up this quickly and had brought up that the Lady Catelyn was to leave in the matter of weeks to the North as Lady Stark, so how could she rule the Riverlands.

Catelyn had told him politely but firmly that this was business between her family and the Starks and was not of his concern. Even while her heart and head were in shambles, feeling utterly confused about the rapid changes her father’s and brother's deaths were bringing to her life, she knew she could not allow the Lords to talk over her by letting her Uncle speak for her.

At that point she did not know what would happen when the Starks arrived but she was not gonna show any insecurity in front of her people. Not just her Lords were talking about what might happen to Riverrun and her betrothal to Brandon Stark. She and her Uncle talked about it amongst themselves for hours and hours.

They both knew that Cat had to become Lady of Riverrun. Brynden was strictly against becoming Lord, refusing to even engage with the thought of usurping his nieces. He also didn't have children nor was he planning on ever having any. So even if he would ascend his brother's seat, he would have no heirs so it would fall back to Cat and her children anyway.

Cat also understood that she would not be able to marry Brandon if she was to become Lady of Riverrun. She could not rule the Riverlands, live in Winterfell, run the castle and raise the next Lord of Winterfell at the same time.

The thought of losing Brandon might have hurt Catelyn more if her heart wasn't already filled with grief and her head wasn't trying to find a solution for the mess her family's tragic loss made in her life.

She liked Brandon. He was handsome and fun and he made her heart spread up when he smiled at her. But she knew she would survive this loss. She was not worried that she would mourn her potential marriage to Brandon for too long.

She was however worried about losing her family's good standing with the Starks. Her father and Rickard Stark had gotten along well. They were both delighted in the alliance that they created through the marriage pack. Now she had to tell Lord Stark that she could not marry his son and their alliance would potentially be lost.

While Catelyn thought Rickard Stark was a man that was able to understand that this was not a purposefully slight against his family, she also knew that he was a man of pride and if a man's pride gets hurt he can become a dangerous person.

She needed to find a solution with the Starks, so when they left her home they were still her allies and if not that at least they would still feel positive towards the Tullys of Riverrun.

Cat still wasn’t sure what she would do by the time the Starks arrived but she knew she would not falter. She greeted the Starks in the courtyard. It seemed they had gotten the letter she sent to Seagard for they looked all grim and when Rickard Stark dismounted from his horse to greet her.

He did so by saying: "Lady Tully, it is a pleasure to see you again. I am sorry it had to be under such dire circumstances and I’ll have you know I am very sorry for your loss." 

She thanked him for his words and then greeted his three children. The youngest, Benjen, had been left in Winterfell. The whole ordeal was awkward. Brandon kissed her hand gently but without his usual sparkle or charm. She wasn't the only one who knew her fathers death would change things between them.

Catelyn had never met Eddard and Lyanna Stark before and meeting them under these circumstances had not made it a light affair. Eddard had looked at her with cold eyes, not knowing anything about him yet, she thought he did not care that she had just lost her father. 

A year later she would know better of course. She still thought Eddard was a cold person, but he wasn't an unfeeling or unkind person. He just wasn't able to show feelings to people he was unfamiliar with. Lyanna wasn't cold but she was clearly uncomfortable in her skin as well.

They had moved inside the castle rather quickly. After the Starks had settled in she had the evening feast served. It had been a continuation of the awkward mood. Throwing a welcoming feast in this situation felt wrong but the Starks were still honored guests at Riverrun and the feast, together with the other festivities, had been planned for almost a year, ever since the date for her and Brandon's wedding had been decided.

During the feast her Uncle Brynden had sat on her left side, together with Lysa while Lord Stark sat on her right side. The whole night was laced in a veil of uncertainty. Catelyn and Rickard had talked, neither quite knowing which toppings were fitting and which they would have to put off till later. Their guests were uncertain about how to behave as well, not wanting to be disrespectful towards their deceased Lord but losing more and more of their composure the more wine was served.

At the end of the night Cat was just happy to lay down in her bed and get a few minutes of peace, trying to put her mind at rest and finally falling asleep.

The next day started early for Catelyn, she had met up with her Uncle before they broke their fast together, to again discuss the different possible outcomes of the day. The one her Uncle thought was the most likely was that Rickard Stark would want Lysa for his heir if he couldn't have Catelyn. 

The day before Cat would have been inclined to agree. She had noticed the way Rickard Stark's eyes had followed her sister the night before. Not in a way that was inappropriate, but in a thoughtful, calculating way. But she had also recognised a certain disappointment and dissatisfaction in his eyes. She would have been offended on her sister's behalf, if she didn't understand what Rickard saw. 

He saw a grieving child. Catelyn hadn't been afforded the luxury of mourning her father properly. She had too many things to worry about. But she wanted to give her sister the chance to grieve, to be able to say her goodbyes to father and Edmure without her mind being distracted by other obligations. 

And so her sister did and Rickard Stark could tell. Lysa was present only for a short time and then disappeared again looking underly unhappy. She didn't talk to people, would only cling to her Uncle or Cat if there was an opportunity and if there wasn't she would be sitting or standing alone hugging herself. Catelyn couldn't imagine Rickard truly judged Lysa for grieving her father and brother but the North was hard and unjust. One couldn't let grieve get in the way of important things or one might starve or freeze to death. At least that's what Brandon liked to tell her.

So no, she wasn't as sure as Brynden was that Lord Stark wanted Lysa as the next Lady of Winterfell. But she was certain that he had the same goal as her in mind, keep the alliance standing and find an alternative way to remain allies.

Lord Stark, the Blackfish and Catelyn decided to gather in her fathers solar. Rickard Stark had referred to it as Lady Tully's solar, which pleasantly surprised her. His tone and words had conveyed his confidence in the fact that she actually was ruling the Riverlands and not her Uncle. She felt guilty when she heard it being called hers, she wanted it to still be her fathers, she didn't want her father to be dead. 

She shouldn't think about it at that moment though and she couldn't show weakness in front of Lord Stark. No matter how courtess and empathetic he had been about her father dying, he was here to retain a strong ally. Catelyn had to be strong herself or Lord Stark wouldn't even consider her an ally worth having.

Almost as soon as they were seated, the Stark patriarch started talking. It didn't surprise Cat, Lord Rickard was not a man for unnecessary words.

"Lady Tully, you know you have my deepest sympathy for losing your father and brother in such a horrible accident. But I realize you also know that this changes the arrangement I made with your father. You understand I wanted you to be my oldest son's wife and I believe you would have made a fine Lady of Winterfell. And from all of the reports your father gave me as well as the once from your bannermen I am confident that now you will continue to be a fine Lady of Riverrun. Unless you're planning to give your title to your Uncle?"

He ended his speech with a question. 

Catelyn answered him in a calm manner to not seem unsure or to eager but she made sure her answer was clear: 

"I do not, my Lord. I was my father's heir once before, prior to my brother's birth. It would not be my fathers wish nor is it mine to have my Uncle rule over the Riverlands. And I am quite certain it isn't his either," she added with a small smirk towards her Uncle, who gave an amused snort in agreement. 

"And I am aware that this is not a situation, either of us wanted to happen. You honor me with your words Lord Stark, my Lord father and you honored me when you agreed to make me the Lady of Winterfell and it saddens me that this future is not to be, but as you and my father honored me I want to honor the allyship you created between our great houses."

"I am quite pleased to hear that Lady Tully. I am certain you have thought of possible ways to keep our alliance standing as much as I have these past few days and I guess you have also thought about the possibility of marriage between your sister and my eldest," Lord Rickard stopped to give her time to respond. 

"I have." Catelyn simply confirmed not wanting to say more. Lord Rickards words did not sound like a proposal but merely the rekindling of a passing thought. But apparently something on her face had given away the thoughts she had earlier on Brandon and Lysa marrying.

"I can see that you came to a similar conclusion like me. They are not terribly well suited for each other. My Brandon is quite the wild spirit, as I'm sure you noticed and he is in need of a strong wife that can rein him in properly." 

Catelyn had to stop herself from defending Lysa, because deep down she knew Rickard Stark was just speaking her own thoughts out loud. Lysa would probably love the idea of marrying Brandon, he was after all very handsome and charming, but Brandon would forget about her rather quickly. Lysa would spend the rest of her life, alone, forgotten and missing the finerys and beauty of the south.

"I have thought of a solution that I deem acceptable but that might perplex you at first. I would still like you to marry my son, but Brandon is obviously not an option anymore. That’s why I would like to propose that you marry my second son, Eddard."

As Rickard had predicted Catelyn was stunned, that was not something she expected.

"You would like me to marry, Eddard? To be my consort, here at Riverrun?" She asked to make sure she hadn’t misunderstood him.

"Yes", Rickard answered. "I know it might sound unorthodox to you. But I do believe you and my Eddard would make a good marriage. Eddard might not appear to be the warmest person. I know, but he is a good soul. He would be a loyal husband to you and would undoubtedly always support and aid you in your rule. You are a young woman, who recently came into a position of great power through tragedy, you are aware that you have a need for an heir yourself now and for support. Believe me, ruling on your own is terribly lonely, and I am certain that my second son can give you this. Right now you need someone stable by your side and no one is more stable than my Eddard, he isn't easily shaken." He added the last part with the tiniest bit of a smile, that spoke of fondness towards his son.

Catelyn had to think quickly, she needed to run this proposal and what it would mean for her, through her head, before giving an answer. She quickly asked Lord Rickard another question to keep him talking.

"You would send your son to live in the south for the rest of his life?" She hoped she won some time with this question. 

She knew how important the North and their connection to it was to the Starks. But she was also aware of Rickard Stark's ambition. Lord Stark was not a dishonest man, she believed most of the things he told her to be true, possibly a bit exaggerated to sell his proposition better, but mostly true. 

She was aware that this was an ambitious scheme by Lord Rickard. Having two sons at the head of two great houses is not something a lot of Lords can claim to have accomplished. And with his daughter soon to become the Lady of Storm's End, Rickard Stark would have his children, and his house set up in a powerful position. She had also heard how close Robert Baratheon, Eddard Stark and Lord Arryn are. While there was no official alliance the Starks, Baratheons and Arryns were close to each other thanks to the boys fostering.

The Starks would gain a lot by having Eddard married to her but she would receive just as much. She was well aware that not everyone would be happy, that she would rule instead of her Uncle and having the largest Kingdom of Westeros backing up her claim, especially if she had a child that was half Stark, would make everyone think twice about speaking against her. Being part of this large alliance of great houses Rickard Stark worked so hard to create came with certain implications as well. 

She was taken out of her thoughts by Rickard Stark finishing answering her question: "... lived in the Vale for years. He will do fine here and it is not too far from the North to visit." 

Catelyn looked at the Lord of Winterfell having decided what her answer should be: "Your proposal has a lot of merit Lord Stark and I see this as benefiting both of our houses. I am inclined to agree and I am sure we will have to discuss a lot of details in the time to come. But I shall let you know one thing I shan’t be moved on. That is in the matter of my children's names. My children shall be by your son, they shall be half Stark, be proud of that and understand what it means, but they will be Tullys. They will be my heirs, my fathers heirs and the future rulers of the Riverlands, so their names will be Tully. If you and your son can accept that he will not be having any children called Stark by be, I would like to accept your offer of marriage." 

This marriage would give her a lot but Catelyn was not willing to end her family's name for it.

Rickard Stark looked at her with a cold expression, calculating. She knew he did not expect her to answer this way. That the childrens names potentially could have been a part of the negotiation was something to expect, so she decided to make it clear immediately that this was not a matter that was up for discussion for her. Catelyn wanted to be steadfast on this matter, if Rickard Stark believed she would let the Tully name die, he would be reaching too far.

Obviously having come to the conclusion that she would not allow discussion Lord Stark gave her a short nod with his head and agreed with her words.

After that they discussed more details and plans. Now her Uncle decided to take part in the discussion as well to help them decide certain details. They came to the conclusion that they would keep the wedding date and most of the arrangements Hoster and Rickard had made but would simply swap out one brother with the other and arrange some things new to fit the new circumstances.   

Catelyn did feel guilty for it. It seemed cold on her part to agree to swap the brothers as if they were not people with feelings and desires, but she knew that this was necessary. And so she married Eddard Stark shortly after her fathers death, both events changing her life forever and irreversibly. 

----------------------------------Flashback End----------------------------------------

Now a year later they were standing by the window awaiting Ned's family to arrive again. This time Riverrun wasn't mourning the death of their Lord and his heir, but celebrating the birth of their Ladys first son. 

Robb Tully was born three moon turns ago and they decided that now was a good time to officially introduce their son to the Lords of the Riverlands by holding a feast in his honor. Catelyn and her husband had also invited the Starks, they had not expected all of them to come but apparently Rickard Stark’s first grandchild was worth traveling to Riverrun again after only having made the trip just a year ago.

Her husband was worried about his family coming to visit. Not that he told her. Her husband didn't think her worthy of hearing his concerns. 

Family was a hard topic between them. Neither of them were ever comfortable enough to let their guard down to talk freely. Cat was often still overwhelmed with grief everytime she thought about her family and talking about Ned's family would always include Brandon and Brandon was a topic they both seemed to avoid at all costs. 

Sometimes she wanted to push, make her husband share his inner thoughts with her but she was too afraid of what she might uncover if he did. 

Instead she stood next to her husband, looking out off the window waiting. Trying to give him comfort that he probably didn't want from her, for the worries he would not share with her and hoped that their marriage would become stronger one day.

When the Stark banners appeared in the distance, Catelyn Tully's last hope was that this visit would not open up wounds off the past so deep they could destroy them forever. 

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

           Emi "Billie" Hirano, a 27 year old daughter of Aphrodite.            She is the owner of Happy Berry and a cam model at Babylon.

FC NAME/GROUP: Sana / Twice CHARACTER NAME: Emi ‘Billie’ Hirano (she goes strictly by Billie)  AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 27 / Dec 29th, 1995 PLACE OF BIRTH: Seoul, South Korea OCCUPATION: Owner of Happy Berry / camgirl at Babylon after dark HEIGHT: 164cm / 48kg DEFINING FEATURES: Long brown hair that is usually styled in waves and a pair of pink contacts she wears most of the time, as well as a pair of tiny hearts tattooed on the inside of both her wrists.

PERSONALITY: Billie was always the bubbly child growing up, always full of enthusiasm and undying curiosity. She’s cheeky and mischievous, using her natural charm to get what she wants and evade trouble wherever she goes but she’s also kind and gentle, particularly to children and nature. She was the type of kid to always ask for fairytales before bedtime, insist on wearing princess dresses after school and ask ‘why’ incessantly to anything she was told; the world was filled with knowledge and her little hands ached to grasp it all. Growing up, she was the type of person to make others feel heard and cared for, whether she offered advice or a gentle hug, Billie seemed to never run out of love to give. It was during her adolescent years when she really grew into herself, being confident and sure of everything she did and said, even when some might’ve thought her to be simpleminded with how she decided to present herself. “Never show anyone your true self or your intentions.” Or so she used to say, often playing into people’s ideas of her being stupid to her advantage. 

HISTORY: “Mirabella.”  

“Mi-Mibilla.”

Haruto laughed when the small child in front of him couldn’t say her name properly. “Mibillie!” Her excited giggles echoed around his apartment, her confidence in thinking she got it right warming his heart in such a way that he couldn’t bring himself to correct her. Mirabella turned into Billie, a nickname that only her father, her sister and her own dad would use to call her. She was the brightest child he’d ever seen and she was his – a wild thought considering he never even wanted children, but it turned out that the summer fling he had on a business trip turned out to be so much more than that; a baby left at his door in the middle of winter, crying out into the night until he took her in. It wasn’t an easy task for a man like him, always working and when he wasn’t, partying and casual dates took up his time even when his best friend tried to talk him into being responsible, and now he was going to have to be. 

He raised her as best as he could, with Billie’s uncle behind him until he too had the same fate bestowed upon him. Two little girls for the two best friends, it would sound almost comical if it wasn’t for the way they looked after each other, showing her and her sister what a wonderful family could be. (Even when he was an absent father for quite a good chunk of her life) 

Billie was smart and pretty, always among the top students in both grades and popularity, something she liked and resented at the same time – she liked the attention, of course! But the young girl discovered quickly that everyone’s infatuation with her wasn’t because they genuinely liked her, as hard as that was to explain. It didn’t matter what she did, she could get away with it. 

Anything. 

One look and a cheeky smile and she was signed to a modeling agency, charming and seducing anyone whether they got in her way or not. She wanted fame and riches, to be loved even if such love never reached her heart, and fame she got! Her natural beauty and ‘charm’ skyrocketed her career, and often, her habit of seducing important people in the industry played a big part in the opportunities placed in front of her and she took every single one of them. She was in the cover of most fashion magazines in Asia in record time, with some appearances here and there in the New York Fashion Week runways if she felt like it. 

Billie had it all, until it became too much. 

After a certain show, she got the worst news of her life – her sister’s father, Takumi, had passed. Her trusty ‘uncle’ whom had babysat her since she had use of reason was gone. Her heart raced in her chest and she didn’t think twice before running to her sister. “Please look after her, Emi-chan.” Were his last words to her years prior, and even if he didn’t need to ask, she swore on her life that she would. “I’m here, Minnie, you’re not alone.” Billie didn’t allow herself to cry, not when her sister needed her. Time went by painfully slow as she refused work to be there for her sister, until the younger girl decided that she was fine. Whether it was true or not, all she could do was accept it and continue love and support her as she always had done, giving her a place to stay and anything else she asked. 

What they did wasn’t a secret, at least not to each other, so whenever Billie saw her sister on the arm of a wealthy man she would shoot her a knowing look and steer clear of her way. 

One day, a good while after her sister decided to leave Seoul, Billie’s latest target was found dead in a ‘freak accident’ which resulted in her having to take a break from her career to ‘grieve’ and the news ate it right up. If she was involved in it or not, the now dead CEO took the secret to his grave, leaving her with all his money and whatever else he had to his name. “There’s no point in it now…” She texted her sister while looking at the funds in her bank accounts. There was no need for her to work a single day in her life anymore if she so wanted… that and she’d built herself a reputation with her love life, one she wished to outrun as she followed her sister to Mount Phoenix.

PANTHEON: Greek CHILD OF: Aphrodite POWERS: Billie can seduce people with a glance and a smile, or by touching for a moment too long. While under her influence, the person can feel a surge of sexual attraction and infatuation and can “fall in love” if she says the words while looking into their eyes. Her powers however, can’t affect or influence people that are already in love. 

STRENGTHS: 

Charming

Clever

Devious

WEAKNESSES: 

Mommy and daddy issues

Manipulative

Quick to anger

Emotionally unavailable 

[healbellls]

// As I'm writing this, I have no plans to bring back my Lance. BUT considering, how Matsuba was tied to another one of my "ancient" verse's takes. I'll be bringing that one back, as an NPC.

As an NPC, Matsuba may bring up this character or he may be present as a BG character. I'm not really looking to write as him per se, but he is still relevant for Matsuba's story.

Everything is tied to my old Lance take, nothing will ever be applied to anyone else who rps him.

Xiǎo Dù (Xiao as I will be writing to make things easier) was the time period’s headmaster of the Wataru clan. A clan of noble-blood heritage, however at this time they are a far cry of what they would eventually become down the road. Xiao should be considered as a pretty ancient ancestor, this takes place pretty early on the clan’s history.

During this time in history they have been expelled from their lands, and have also been handed out a lifetime sentence of exile. Because their previous headmaster (Xiao's father) refused to align with the current emperor (they weren’t a strong clan, they wouldn’t stand a chance on their own. A decision made by his father, which they would greatly pay the price for. Xiao still was just a child when their downfall happened). Another contributor factor was due of their close bonds to dragons (which were always deemed the biggest threats to society).

Xiao’s goal in life was to try and lift the sentence and recover the clan’s honor. By becoming a terrific pokemon hunter, who could effortlessly tame dragon types. Xiao was always on the run, travelling the land in search of new targets, which could potentially grant him the chance to lift the exile sentence. He greatly resents his father, and even his special abilities to a degree.

He was the oldest sibling of other two, who just like him roamed the land (although they didn't stick to their hunting traditions). They often stumbled into each other on their travels, but they didn’t really stick around each other much. Out of all the siblings he was the only one, who was actively trying to seek out a way to change things for them.

Despite his exile condition, he is quite rich. His services pay him extremely well. Not to mention, the large amount he managed to keep to himself from their clan’s fortunes. So much so, Xiao would constantly pay for Matsuba's services and make him tag alongside his hunts. Xiao is first and foremost a client, it is hard to tell whether or not he and Matsuba have any form of a genuine friendship. But some form of a connection between them, is established.

For PLA Muses: Xiao is likely the reason why Matsuba was brought to Hisui. Matsuba may bring him up.

Xiao was likely the last person to see Matsuba alive. Much like everyone, he wasn't aware about the clairvoyant's vision of his own death. But he would come to learn about that as well as his death, much later after his assassination. Their final encounter, could be summed up as Matsuba telling him about the vision of his clan's future, and he planted seeds in his mind about the changes he would come to implement down the line.

In the end, his efforts paid off. Xiao went down in history as the one who brought the honor back to the Wataru clan, re-instating its former glory. He was also responsible for making the biggest change to the clan's essence, by changing their focus on hunting/taming pokemon, and introduce a more banking like approach to their future endeavours. Which kicked off the clan’s influence growth in the process.

Xiao's personal diaries are currently one of the few remaining, concrete evidences about Matsuba's existence. Although, only a few things from it have ever been released to the public, and to many people they are only stories and not factual retellings of events. In his diary, he actually seems to be thankful for Matsuba's assistence in life.

It's also largerly theorized that Xiao and Matsuba's relationship, went far and beyond just the scope of a merely business relationship. Even though, Xiao never explicitly wrote anything about it per se.

[razieltwelve]

Repetition (Final Rose x MCU)

Hela had expected many reactions from Thor when she had arrived. Indeed, she was quite looking forward to them. What she had not expected from him was to not only dodge all the swords she flung at him but from him to also smile as if he was genuinely enjoying himself. Was he even more bloodthirsty than she had expected, or was he simply insane?

Even more baffling was that rather than simply fling his hammer at her at the first opportunity he got, he hung back, watching her movements and paying close attention to the flow of power within her. When had he learned to do that? When had he developed such patience?

And why was he so much more powerful than she had expected.

“You know,” Thor said, grinning from ear to ear like a little boy who had been told he would be receiving a present for good behaviour. “I really must thank Averia.”

The clouds above them began to darken, and Thor’s eyes lit up. His power began to rise, not with the wild, frantic bursts she would expect of a young god who stilled relied on an object to control his might. Instead, it was measured and calm, a storm gathering on the horizon, its wrath reserved for the perfect moment to strike.

“All of her... how did Tony put it? Yes, I must confess I doubted that anyone would engage in as much sword spamming as she does, but it seems she was right again.” He took a fighting stance at last. “And all those other training exercises... I do wonder if she knew this would happen.”

Averia?

Hela blinked.

Sword spam?

Who was he talking about?

X     X     X

Earlier...

“I am not sure this qualifies as training!” Thor growled as he dodged another hail of swords.

Averia continued to munch on an apple. “Thor, one of the biggest problems that fighters as powerful as you develop is a fondness for simply wading through attacks. This will absolutely end up with you getting seriously injured if you ever meet someone strong enough to hurt you at long range. Who knows? You might even lose an eye or something.”

Thor hissed as one of the swords hit him. Rather than pierce right through him - which he knew it could have done - it exploded, sending a painful jolt of energy through him and tossing him across the training ground with enough force to leave a furrow in the ground and a sizeable crack in the wall at the edge.

He tugged himself back to his feet as his friends began to cackle.

“Oh. shut up!” Thor hissed, jabbing a finger in their direction. Those traitors were handing Averia another apple! “It’s not like you did any better! You all died in the first ten seconds of her doing... whatever you call this.”

“Tony likes to call it spamming swords. Pepper prefers to call it ‘motivation to dodge’.” Averia shrugged as several dozen blades formed in the air around her. “They’re not wrong.”

It took Thor days... days of constant training and agonising pain to finally learn how to dodge the way Averia wanted him to. He would have been resentful, but he’d asked for this... and he could already feel the difference. Her training methods were bizarre, brutal, and sometimes completely ridiculous, but he could not argue their effectiveness.

He could now instantly identify a projectile’s trajectory and then move to avoid it. Better still, his movements were just faster, smoother, and more graceful. As his mother had put it with a smile, he was no blundering oaf anymore. He was a dancer who left bodies in his wake. The words had been strange, true, but his mother’s genuine delight in his improvement had been deeply gratifying. Why, his father had even given him an awkward pat on the back, along with some praise!

Today, he would do the impossible! He would get through the hail of swords and land a blow!

And so Thor moved, dodging, ducking, diving, and dancing through the storm of swords. The observers - and they’d picked up quite a few because who didn’t want to see the Prince of Asgard get knocked around by flying swords - were suitably impressed, and he could sense their anticipation build as he closed the gap, took one final step, and then lunged forward to finally - finally - land a blow.

And then Averia dodged, and he found himself swinging at thin air... only for a blade to come to rest at his throat.

“What?” Thor bellowed. “That’s... that’s... you dodged?”

“I never said I wouldn’t.” Averia’s lips twitched into what his mother had come to described as her ‘delightfully malevolent’ smile. “And now we fight.”

Thor readied himself as she pulled her sword away. “Very well.”

“Oh,” Averia said. “Also, I’ll be shooting swords at you too.”

Thor just barely managed to contain a most unheroic yelp as Averia lunged forward, her melee attack accompanied by more swords.

Later, after Thor had dragged himself onto his feet again, bathed, and readied himself for the evening meal, his mother approached him.

“Mother.” He inclined his head. “Will my brother be joining us.”

For all of Loki’s mistakes, he was still his brother. And Averia had decided to use the favour his father owed her for her aid to ask him to mend things with Loki. A heated discussion had ensued behind closed doors, but his father had emerged with a scowl before announcing that he would at least try to make things better.

Loki had, needless to say, been shocked to the point that he’d actually agreed to make it work, if only because their mother’s constant visits to his cell had actually left him feeling guilty. It was almost amusing. His clever, cunning, scheming brother, utterly undone by their mother’s love.

“He will. He has been trying,” his mother said. “Even your father can see that. I suppose the development of a proper intelligence service is a long time coming, and your brother is ideally suited to the task. Your father even praised him for his efforts. Your brother almost collapsed, he was so surprised.”

“Hah! I should have liked to see that.”

“Anyway,” his mother said, leaning in conspiratorially. “I must say that you have taken quite a liking to your newest comrade.”

Thor nodded. “Aye. A man could not ask for a better comrade.” Thor considered all of the Avengers his friends, but Averia was perhaps the one who understood him the best. She knew what it meant to be a warrior, to protect those weaker and wipe out those that threatened them. She possessed overwhelming might, yet she was perfectly happy to help other improve and grow. Indeed, she seemed happier about helping people improve than she did about her own accomplishments. Of course, she was also frequently grumpy, her glare was the stuff of legends already, and there was a certain... solitude to her at times that made him worry. Those were not the eyes of a teenager, not matter how experienced in battle she might be.

“I know you and Jane have been having problems, but perhaps...”

“Ah.” Thor began to chuckle until he shook, almost falling over.

“Thor?” His mother stared. “Did I say something funny.”

He steadied himself. Averia had informed him of something important before visiting, most likely predicting precisely this sort of thing. “My apologies, mother. But Averia is not interested in men.”

His mother blinked. “Oh. So...?”

“Aye. It is the ladies that catch her fancy.” Thor grinned. “I believe she once told me that her ideal women would be a blonde ice princess and a blonde dragon woman.” He paused. “I assume she meant dragon rhetorically, but I could be wrong.”

“Well, that is interesting.”

Thor made a mental note to warn Averia. The gleam in his mother’s eyes was positively disturbing. “We do have many blondes in Asgard that might meet those descriptions...”

X     X     X

Author’s Notes

Thor’s biggest problem is that he has no one to spar with regularly that can truly push him. He is so much more powerful than his friends that training with them does little to improve his skills. He also didn’t devote himself to true mastery of his power until he got his ass kicked.

Averia being around solves those problems, and it’s a good way for her to keep sharp as well. Also, all those bizarre and crazy training exercises she went through and came up with? It’s great to have someone else to subject them to.

As for Loki, despite his actions, Averia is very sympathetic to him. She sees a lot of Victoria in him because if Victoria didn’t have such a great family and support system, it’s easy to imagine her turning evil. What Averia did was provide Odin with a prediction based on a great many number of things about what would happen if things persisted as they were. She bothers him a lot because she is immune to scrying and other forms of magical prediction. She’s like... either just not there or a hole in the world when people use scrying techniques.

Also, Frigga plotting is to be expected. When she sees what Averia is capable of, she wants her to be tied to Asgard in some way. However, she grasps that her husband and Averia probably aren’t going to get along too well whereas she has already established a rapport.

Also, we now know exactly which Averia this is.

[noxianwilled]

katarina never had to face the loss of a loved one manifested as death (they all left before that lol). she has a very peculiar relationship with it, in that it's ever-present in her life, as commonplace as it could be, whether caused by her or by others. she's used to seeing people die. she's used to being the one who takes their lives. and when it comes to the prospect of her own possible death, she genuinely doesn't fear it or what may lay beyond (to her, it's of little consequence; she's here now, and it is the now that matters. it's her life that matters. and if she gets to die knowing her life was worth living, that's enough. death doesn't scare her at all).

the closest two situations in which she had to deal with the death of someone close to her are... complicated. and both times it was her father. in the first, marcus faked his death, but she really believed had died. still, her relationship with him by that point was strained, to say the least. she had been disowned already, their falling out had already happened, and there was no attempt to mend that relationship from either side. i do think when she heard of it, there was an odd sort of grief. he meant so much to her once, he shaped so much of who she was... despite their bitter parting, she does think she hoped he died a good death, that he died doing what he did best and knowing it had purpose. but there's a complicated mess of feelings around all that, from her own resentment and disappointment and hurt, to the distancing the years provided.

in the comic, she says to him 'they identified your body' when talking about his coming back from the dead, and i think it tracks with the fact katarina herself likely wouldn't have been around for any funeral rites of any sort. they rejected each other in life; she wouldn't go to him even after death, not even in secret. he died, and she grieved but that didn't diminish her anger or her hurt. it wasn't an overtly emotional reaction, and it wasn't something she'd have shared with anyone. i think, when he actually dies post-comic, it's something of a repeat in that sense. there's too much between them for her to simply mourn. but he's still her father, and he still shaped her in so many ways, and katarina is simply not good at letting go. if she was, she'd have renounced all the du couteaus long ago.

i'm not even counting cassiopeia's loss because it isn't even death in a tangible sense. she knows cassiopeia went into the desert for something she (apparently) didn't come home from (before learning she did, in fact, come home surrounded by secrecy). her sister's death is likely; but they haven't been close for years, either. katarina did not reach out after she was disowned, and neither did cass. marcus wasn't the only one who cut her off (and, to be fair to them both, they were quite young when it happened; cass was a child. her parents did a thing and she followed suit). it's so distant, by then, that even if she believed cass died it's just not a loss she'd feel in full. she'd still be sad, and she'd still grieve, and she'd be angry her mother too just sent one of them to succeed or die, but ultimately any bond they had faded long ago. she cares, but it's still complicated, and i think this makes her reaction quieter, private, because she doesn't even know how to process all of that, and for the most part she just. doesn't. shuts it down and moves on.

in any scenario she does have people close to her, people she cares for and who care for her in return, that'd be the first time she'd fear death in any way — more because she feels the loss than anything else. katarina would give her life without a second thought because she can't bear the idea of finally having a loved one (platonic or romantic) who cares for her and having to lose them like that. there aren't many things she'd die for other than noxus, but for the people she loves — even if it means noxus loses one of its most important weapons — she'd lay down her life without hesitation.

if that isn't a choice, i think her reaction and her grief would be a lot more visceral. she feels everything very intensely, and it'd be devastating. her first reaction would likely be violence (definitely if there is someone to blame, even if conceptually more than literally), unrestrained and brutal. but eventually the sorrow would simply be overwhelming. it'd leave her broken. pulling herself together wouldn't be easy.

[meetkamski]

Leo quits red-ice and slowly feels safe enough to admit to his wrongs and atone for them.

[talesofstyles]

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.” 

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be. 

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go. 

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays. 

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home. 

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing. 

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids. 

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve. 

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea. 

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy. 

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry. 

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.” 

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead. 

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone. 

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go. 

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too. 

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again. 

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door. 

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse. 

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub. 

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577. 

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows. 

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see. 

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him. 

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else. 

“Just a pint,” I tell him. 

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her. 

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop. 

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl. 

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where. 

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head. 

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do. 

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight. 

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1. 

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born. 

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.” 

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly. 

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight. 

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns. 

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly. 

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.  

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention. 

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis. 

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again. 

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle. 

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did… 

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing. 

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle. 

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics. 

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk. 

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap. 

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it. 

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time. 

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either. 

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window. 

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me. 

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly. 

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it. 

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me. 

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room. 

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly. 

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up. 

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal. 

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me. 

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life. 

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What? 

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say. 

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.” 

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.” 

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it. 

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me. 

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now. 

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife. 

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk. 

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle. 

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh. 

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself. 

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer. 

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter. 

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.” 

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head. 

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly. 

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?” 

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm. 

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.” 

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards. 

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses. 

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her. 

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead. 

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door. 

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week. 

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating. 

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside. 

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed. 

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously. 

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.” 

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll. 

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me. 

-

Read part II here!

[daz4i]

I am in the same boat, my dude, I'm always mentally ill about Atsushi.

Honestly my absolute favourite thing about him is the way he is a perfect grey character. Like he is always directly in the middle, confused and muddled and somewhere between good and bad but slowly learning from the influences around him, again, both good and bad.

Like one of my favourite episodes is when he finds out the orphanage director is dead and he was in town because he was looking for Atsushi to congratulate him for his achievements. Just... It's so good, dude, you can feel the burning resentment Atsushi has for this man and the refusal to admit that maybe he had some good in him even after finding proof that he did care for Atsushi despite the things he did with it all just culminating in Atsushi being so confused and conflicted and Dazai telling him that the only thing he knew was that people tend to cry when their fathers die, not to comfort Atsushi, but to let him know that despite the circumstances, it's okay that he's feeling what he is feeling.

I dunno, dude... Atsushi is just such a unique and honestly quite refreshing protagonist. And thinking about him too much makes me go feral.

GOD YES I LOVE HIM

he is just so so realistic like genuinely. the way he copes with trauma and how it changes his perception of the world and how he treats people. it's so interesting and so real and so different

like you'd expect him to be an average shonen protag and he does share a lot of traits with them, mainly the need to help others, but you could argue the reason he does that is, in a way, selfish. and that's so fucking spicy (to be clear i don't think it is and that's a very. uh. unhealthy way to view good deeds but that's a topic for another time. more talking about how the narrative presents his choices, and i'd argue also how he views himself)

i love how he subverts your expectations by being somewhat naive or innocent at times, but then he still won't let shit cut a lot of times and he's not afraid to call people out even when they could very easily hurt him if they wanted. and it's not for their benefit or smth like sometimes he's just tired of their shit. so cool fr

also I FEEL YOU this episode was probably the closest i came to crying from the anime 😭 the fucking emotional rollercoaster man. you said it better than i could honestly. i think it is such an important part of his growth and learning to accept that he's allowed to live - learning that his emotions have a place too, and unlearning all the hiding he was forced to do in the orphanage

[jekunitrash]

A very short one-shot for Jeje and Mikuni's birthdays

I know I'm late for Mikuni, please just consider the story is taking place on October 1st.

Mikuni wasn't fond of parties. Not anymore, at least. There used to be a time when the manor got pretty lively on this particular day. But now, even though he wasn't there to witness it, he could imagine it was but a plain and normal day at the Alicein mansion. Of course, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy all the attention, the presents, the praises, and everything that came along with celebrating his birthday. It was just... something he could live without. Compared to the other, more considerable losses, this one was irrelevant. Laughable, even. And yet, it was at this very moment, that Mikuni felt the loneliest. It wasn't the celebration in itself he missed, but the people who were there to take part in it. People he loved and couldn't see anymore, people who had loved him in return and couldn't anymore. For quite various reasons, but the conclusion was the same. His deceased mother could never wish him happiness again, and neither would Misono nor his father.

Today could have been a delightful day, but all joy had died that night, as well. Celebrating had become meaningless, worse, it would be painful more than anything. From now on, Mikuni's birthday would be a regular day. That was what he wanted.

So why did his chest hurt so much? He had come to terms with his past decisions, since then. He'd known about the consequences. He preferred it being like this, a hundred times more than what could have been. But it still hurt. Maybe because this date was special, maybe because he only truly realized now all that he'd lost. Perhaps it was because he knew no one could make today the same as before, too. For all of those reasons, Mikuni felt empty like he hadn't felt in a while.

Then, he remembered a conversation he once had with Tsurugi. About being jealous of him. Obviously, the blond had denied it. What could he possibly envy about the raven? His situation was just as bad, if not worse than his. But as of now, it did feel like jealousy. Tsurugi may not have the best life here at C3, but he at least had Touma and a few friends to think about his birthday. Mikuni didn't even have that. It was such a pathetic thought, but it was true nonetheless. Tsurugi had something Mikuni didn't. And he sometimes hated him for it.

Jeje turned around upon hearing someone sneeze, and sighed when he saw it was only Tsurugi.

"Tissues... on the table...you should... dress warmer. Fall... is already here."

"Sure, thanks, Jeje-chan!" The man said, hopping on a chair. "This mission was so boring, I couldn't wait to come back. Where is Kuni?"

Jeje swayed from one foot to another, visibly uneasy.

"He is still... working. He said... he wanted calm and... silence."

Tsurugi downright pouted, a childish mannerism to express his disappointment. "Heeeeh, is he for real? Today is his birthday, though. Where is the fun in filling out paperwork?"

The vampire fumbled with his sleeves. "I don't think... he is... looking forward to his... birthday." He muttered, and Tsurugi noticed the hint of guilt in his voice.

"Well, for starters, did you wish him an happy birthday? That could help." He said, a brow raised.

"He... probably... doesn't want to hear it from me..."

The raven leaned forward, his elbows on the table and his chin resting on his hands. He looked irritated somehow and that sure was something new.

"Jeje-chan, that is, how should I put it? Yeah, you're being stupid."

The taller man was about to get irritated as well, but Tsurugi went on.

"Look, what I'm saying is, you can't know how he feels nor what he wants if you don't ask or try. Kuni-chan has no one besides you to remember - well, I happen to know because it's written on his registration - but anyway, of course it would make him happy to hear it. That's only natural. Even if he denies or try to hide it behind a facade, he has a heart. And he's too sensitive for his own liking."

Jeje bit on his lower lip, pondering on what the raven had just said. He knew his eve had been moody since this morning, just as he knew his family's absence, today of all days, was weighing on him. He just felt like it wasn't his part to play.

"Even so..." he began eventually, "I can't replace... his family. It will never... be the same, for him."

Tsurugi was quiet for a moment, as for once, he was thinking of the best way to say things. It was soon obvious what he should tell Jeje.

"Okay, you may be right. It will indeed never be the same. But it doesn't have to be such a bad thing. What I mean is, from now on, what you have to do is to make it as good as you can. And then, little by little, you will both get new habits and find a way of your own to celebrate it. Kuni-chan... he's stubborn, and I'm sure he can be resentful, but he has a sense of what's right and what's not. So it's unlikely that he hates you to begin with. Therefore, being wished a happy birthday, even if you're not best friends, would still make him a little joyful."

Silence followed his statement. Jeje couldn't argue against that, as his analysis of Mikuni was so sharp. He was admittedly impressed, since Tsurugi always acted like an idiot. He hadn't thought he could have such a good understanding of people. After being stared at insistently for a solid thirty seconds, Jeje resigned himself.

"Alright... I will... talk to him."

The raven smiled like a contented child, his arms proudly crossed on his chest.

"Good, good!"

The afternoon was near it's end when Mikuni got it over with, not that it mattered. All he wanted was for this day to finish quickly, so maybe the one after he would forget about it already. It was so frustrating. He knew there was nothing he could do to change anything now, but it was bugging him nonetheless. It was as though a little, pestering voice kept reminding him, 'hey, you're all alone for your birthday. You ruined everything, so this is entirely your fault, tough'. And at this point he was tempted to go to sleep if it meant it would shut up. It would most likely have to wait, if the knock on the door was anything to go by.

He'd be lying again if he said he wasn't a tad bit surprised to see Jeje.

" What? I said I needed calm, didn't I?"

While it was far from an engaging start, his tone wasn't as spiteful as he had meant it to be. He had mostly sounded tired.

"I know... but you've been here all afternoon and... I thought you should... take a break." Jeje mumbled, which made Mikuni look at him quizzically. He had never acted out of his own initiative before. Rather, he had never gone against his eve's indications.

"Oh." Mikuni said, "Well, there is no need anyway. I'm done."

"That's... good."

Well, now it was awkward. Mikuni wasn't too sure, be it because of the fatigue or the unrealistic side of the situation, but was Jeje acting shy?

"Yeah, I guess." He spoke, "If that was all-"

But, unexpectedly enough, Jeje wasn't done, and Mikuni stopped midway after hearing a distant voice.

"Ha..."

The blond eve frowned, Jeje was being so weird and he had no idea why. Plus, he wasn't in the mood and it was beginning to annoy him.

"What?" He asked, and this time the vampire straightened his posture a little more.

"... happy birthday."

Mikuni legit blinked, his mouth slightly open in disbelief. "Huh?" He genuinely thought he had misheard, that he was imagining things. But his servamp surprised him even more by repeating that sentence. Louder, and firmer.

"Happy birthday, Mikuni."

The eve closed his mouth, opened it again, and in the end closed it. His troath felt dry for some reason, and his chest stinged in a manner that was oddly familiar. It was a strange warmth that spread and that he used to identify as joy.

Jeje was standing here, perfectly still, apparently waiting for an answer of sort. The way his mouth formed a line indicated that he wasn't too sure of what to do next, and Mikuni himself would have liked a notice.

At last, the only logical thing he could do was to thank him, and even then, he had trouble to process it. The embarrassed mess who spoke was totally not him, either.

"Oh, yeah. Right. Thank you."

Jeje seemed to relax afterwards, but it was still strangely tense. Mostly because Mikuni had a hard time believing it had happened. The vampire tried to think of a normal thing to do in this situation, or remember something the Alicein used to do on their birthdays. But then he recalled that Tsurugi had adviced to do something new, and decided he should just ask his eve at this point.

"So... Is there something... you want to do? Or eat?"

Truthfully, Mikuni's face was priceless, and perhaps someday he could even laugh about it, but not now. Right now Jeje was relieved, above all things.

"Some good tea would be nice, I suppose." Mikuni said eventually. "Also, a midnight stroll in the park. And why not cake, but I'm not going to eat it by myself, so... "

It was Jeje's turn to be started, and despite not being fond of sweet things, he couldn't turn down the offer.

"I... see. Then... I'll... have some. If that's... okay."

And then, Mikuni smiled for the first time in months.

"That would be alright."

Jeje poured a second cup of Ceylan tea for his eve, while the latter cut the small cake they had just bought. Tsurugi's present had been to negotiate a night out of C3 base without surveillance, and it was admittedly the best. Mikuni had cringed upon having the raven pester him about his birthday, of course, but his soft expression later on had told Jeje that he was thankful. The servamp could feel himself smiling, ever so slightly, as he put the cup on the table, and he was glad for the way it had all played out in the end. Mikuni was indeed loving his birthday, in a way, despite everything, and it was all the vampire could ask for.

It was when they were coming back from their walk, couple hours later, that Mikuni asked him out of the blue.

"By the way, Jeje. When is your birthday?"

Then again, it startled him. For one thing, no one had asked him that in a long, very long time. And for another one, he had stopped caring since he had become an immortal monster and had incidentally forgotten about it.

"I... don't know." He replied simply.

Mikuni hummed, and when the clocks indicated one minute past midnight, arbitrarily declared,

"In that case, your birthday should be today".

[afairytalestray]

Tuggoffelees 1 and Black&White Family 2

I can’t believe I’ve gotten to Part 3 of this series and I’m only now mentioning my favourite ship of all time! Tuggoffelees, my OTP, my beloved. As always, all hcs in this series will be pre-canon, if we accept the musical as the present day canon. Here’s my take on how Misto’s relationship with Tugger and with his half siblings develops :) (consistent tense usage? I don’t know her) (masterpost here!)

Tugger was totally enamoured by Mistoffelees from day one. They didn’t meet until after Munkustrap and Demeter’s ball (the one after Bomba/Demeter/Misto’s arrival in the Junkyard, which Misto skipped due to still fearing the other Cats), when Tugger happens across Misto dancing and practising his magic in a quiet corner by himself. For the first time in his life, the Rum Tum Tugger is rendered speechless, and just sits and watches in silent awe for like half an hour until Misto realises he’s there. Misto is initially very wary of Tugger, having heard about his flirty and flighty nature, but Tugger is so warm and genuine in his admiration of Misto’s abilities that he struggles to see what the stories were on about. The two immediately bond. They both have very great fears of violence and abandonment by family members/Macavity, which allow them to feel comfortable with one another and understand each other on a deep level better than anyone else in very little time. 

Misto, despite his own massive crush, is extremely oblivious to Tugger’s true feelings for him for a long time; after all, in what universe would the most popular and attractive Cat in the tribe see weird, skittish little him as anything more than a friend? But Tugger thinks he’s the greatest thing since sliced bread, and despite his fickle tendencies, is doggedly determined when he decides on something. He can’t put his finger on what exactly Misto makes him feel right away, but he knows that it’s good. He at first only recognises it as a weird and confusing desire to spend all his time only with him, and only after someone else points out that he’s not been up to his usual flirty shenanigans in a while. He struggles to explain it; since he’s one of the only ones Misto is able to talk to at that point, he’s one of the only ones who sees him for the fun, warm, and high-key sassy tom he is behind the shyness. It took a very long (and naturally embarrassing) talk with his father to help him work out what exactly he was feeling, and at Old Deuteronomy’s advice he resolved to pursue a serious relationship with Misto. It takes a while, partially because Misto seems to be immune to all Tugger’s best moves (read: oblivious to their real intention and therefore assumes he’s joking), and also because Tugger gets all heart-eyed and tongue-tied whenever Misto smiles at him - the usually suave rockstar Cat becomes a pile of goo.  After all his moves fail, Tugger is at a loss of what to do. In the end, he manages it completely by accident.

Misto is a perfectionist and extremely prone to over-working. Tugger’s insistence on being close by/helping him practise is the only reason he doesn’t wipe out basically all the time. Tugger finds him one evening when he’s pushed himself too far, exhausted and aching and barely able to walk. Tugger’s den is closer, so he picks him up and carries him back there - Misto is asleep long before Tugger lays him down on the blankets. He’s kinda mad - half at Misto for ignoring his own limits, half at himself for not being there to help him - but struggles to stay angry with him when he’s very clearly in pain. He confronts him the next day, which confuses Misto, who’s not really used to having people care about him the way Tugger does. Misto questions why it’s bothering Tugger so much, which prompts him to angrily blurt out that it sucks so much to see someone you love hurt themself like that and not seem to care. He doesn’t realise what he’s saying until he’s said it. It hangs in the air awkwardly for a few moments before Tugger throws caution to the wind and launches into a full confession of his feelings for him. He gets on a roll and doesn’t stop until Misto kisses him (in so learning that that is the best and only guaranteed way to shut Tugger up). From there things develop very quickly. To exactly no one’s surprise they become the youngest mated pair in Jellicle memory at the next ball. Old D bawls like a kitten he’s so happy. 

Tugger and Mistoffelees grew very close very quickly, which did wonders for Misto’s confidence and both of their self-esteem. It did, however, also strain Alonzo and Tugger’s already rocky relationship to near breaking point. Alonzo, having learned of Misto’s story and his mother’s death, feels incredibly guilty for turning away from him. He becomes jealous of how quickly Tugger was able to get close to Misto while he still struggles to even get him to talk to him, and thinks Tugger is an obnoxious bad influence and warns Misto against him. Tugger is normally fairly easygoing and happy to let rumours roll off him like water off a duck’s back, he even sometimes enjoys them and encourages them if he thinks they’re amusing. However, this he takes personally, and very seriously (as he will with any disparagement of his relationship with Misto, or suggestion that he doesn’t take it seriously). Tugger feels very protective of Misto, knowing very well the pain of being on the receiving end of his eldest brother’s rage, and of their blossoming relationship; he asserts that Alonzo should have gone after Misto when his mother attacked him, and that it’s Alonzo’s own damn fault he doesn’t have a relationship with Misto and it’s got nothing to do with Tugger. It becomes a very sore point of contention between the two of them.

Once Misto is more comfortable in himself and who he is, he begins to slowly build a bond with his half siblings. He becomes more comfortable with Victoria quickly, they both enjoy hanging out without really communicating, just enjoying each other’s company in peace. Victoria is deaf. She can lip-read, but Misto is very determined to learn sign language, and when he gets reasonably competent at that it becomes their main method of communication.

Alonzo is a lot trickier, the poor guy still feels so guilty. Misto holds no resentment towards him at all, he’s really happy Alonzo doesn’t hate him and totally understands why he couldn’t see him back then when everything was still fresh and painful for him - he doesn’t blame him at all. But he can’t seem to get that into Alonzo’s head. Every time it comes up all Alonzo can think about is that if he had just been more mature/compassionate/accepting back then Misto wouldn’t have gone through everything he did. 

Alonzo now desperately wants a relationship with his little brother, but his guilt makes it so he struggles horribly at communicating with him and is awkward around him, which in turn makes Misto nervous and uncomfortable (even more than he generally was at that time), which makes it even worse for poor Lonz. He becomes very protective of Misto as he feels like it’s the only thing he can now do for him (if he didn’t do it before then he’ll sure as hell make up for it now). This, unfortunately, tends to result in him getting into fights. He and Tugger have been and always will be chalk and cheese, but he also argued with his mother and now refuses to speak to her. When Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer arrived in the Junkyard, freshly escaped from Macavity and seeking refuge, it really freaked Misto out, and Alonzo immediately took a very hard stance against them and wouldn’t give them a chance. He got into a physical fight with Bombalurina that had to be broken up by Munkustrap when she wouldn’t let him close to her den (where Misto and Demeter had holed up). He has now begrudgingly accepted the twins, but keeps his guard up around them. 

As his and Misto’s relationship improved, the awkwardness ended up dissipating completely and the two became quite close. The protectiveness, however, never did go away. It toned down a lot, but at any given moment Alonzo is always ready and willing to throw hands for his little brother and sister.

[dreamfisher-here]

Queer Subtext in The Illusion of Living - Part 3/?

Yes, you read that right, there will be more parts. This book is a gift that keeps on giving.

As Joey had to work at his father’s shop from a young age, he didn’t really have friends, up until he joined the army at 15 and met Donaldson and Eckhart, as well as Nathan Arch. All three of whom aggressively pressured him to comply with heteronormative behavior: bullying him to go on dates with the army girls, and making fun of him for liking girl stuff. 

“The men made fun of me: "Reading a romance there, Drew?" (...) I knew before Donaldson and Eckhart had teased me that supposedly men who were "real men" as someone, maybe Arch, had put it, read about real subjects, nonfiction.” TIOL, page 62

That experience must have left a deep mark on him, because this ‘real man’ complex resurfaces later in TIOL, and even in DCTL:

But his friends also sexted him from across the ocean, which he still recalls fondly decades later:

“Eckhart and Donaldson were still alive, sending me letters with dirty limericks from overseas.” TIOL, page 113

Also worth noting is the difference in how he feels about women asking him to go out versus men doing the same.

“When they were shipped overseas, I genuinely missed them. They were the first gents I'd ever met who could convince me to go out and spend an evening dancing and socializing instead of studying. They showed me that there was some-thing positive about escaping the daily grind that way.

(...)

I had once tried to explain to them that it wasn't that I didn't like girls, or didn't enjoy their company, I just didn't have time for them. I didn't want to go out on nights I needed to stay in.” TIOL, page 28

Girls ask me out = girls bad :(

Boys ask me out = boys hot :)

But then we get to Detective Sinclair, and things get… interesting.

Joey meets Detective Sinclair shortly after leaving the army and moving to New York in 1920, when the man comes to question him about the mysterious murder of his old army colleague. After noting the similarity between the detective and that of Joey’s (mostly gay) neighbors in Greenwich Village, Joey invites him over to his apartment, where they immediately proceed to establish which of them is the alpha male, and it isn’t Joey:

“Once again Detective Adam Sinclair didn't show any sign that he heard me, that he agreed or didn't with my invitation, he just walked into my studio and stood in the middle of the room. He looked around, slowly, taking in the space.”  TIOL, page 99

“Too bad.” He flicked the butt of his second cigarette onto my floor and stepped on it thoughtfully. I wasn't going to tell him how rude that was. I wanted the gig and it was obvious he knew. It was also obvious he wanted me to say something about the cigarette.”  TIOL, page 110

Joey is utterly fascinated by this display of complete lack of respect for him and begs the detective to let him be his apprentice. He lies about having an interest in becoming a detective someday, but in reality he gives no shit about the work, or the case. His interest is solely in Sinclair.

“(...)this fellow fascinated me.” TIOL, page 100

“I rushed over to my one window to watch as he left the building. He was a hulking shadow again, wandering away from my building without a glance backward. A fantastic character really.” TIOL, page 110

“Detective Sinclair didn't say anything more and again I was following him. I didn't know how he chose who to talk to, and by the time the evening was over I'd forgotten to ask. (...) I tried to do my own detective work about the detective as he went about asking questions.” TIOL, page 115

This wouldn’t be the only time he gets instantly smitten by a man with a cigarette and an air of indifference, and the similarity between Sinclair and Sammy’s introduction is pretty interesting:

"And what's a Joey Drew Studios?" asked Sammy, lighting a cigarette from the darkness by the stone wall at the edge of the terrace. Yes, he said it in that dismissive tone. I didn't understand why he needed to talk to me like that.” TIOL, page 188

Joey himself wonders whether the detective’s behavior is a result of him correctly predicting Joey’s… preferences.

“Fascinating. Detective Sinclair's tone was very different here. He was less curt talking to her, there was a softness almost in his speech. It occurred to me that he was attempting to reflect what he saw in her personality to make her more comfortable. Trying to give her what she wanted without her knowing she wanted anything. It made me wonder what trick he'd used with me. I didn't like the idea, but it was a very interesting one.” TIOL, page 188

So the text confirms that Joey has a type, and that type seems to be men, who refuse to give him the attention he craves (and smoke cigarettes, apparently. Resisting the urge to make a joke about phallic symbolism).

And boy, does Joey crave Sinclair’s attention!

You see, even though solving the case was not at all interesting to Joey, there was something else, which was of great importance to him: making sure that Sinclair finds him physically attractive.

“He was memorizing it, adding it to the appendix of his story. I was determined not to be some small character who might not even rate a name. I wasn't going to be a description only, "Tall, lean, handsome young man" or the like.” TIOL, page 100

“He wore his large overcoat and hat like always, his five o'clock shadow too, which made me all the more annoyed that I'd cared to look presentable. Not that I wouldn't have dressed appropriately—such things matter—I just resented I had cared as much as I had about the detective's particular opinion. I got in next to him with-out any conversation. Without really any sign he noticed me at all. He just stared forward as the car drove off, and I was so grumpy from the train ride I was happy to sit in silence.” TIOL, page 129

When senpai doesn’t notice you :(

“I assumed that Detective Sinclair had opinions on everyone, and probably bad opinions. Just like he thought I couldn't look presentable when I most certainly could.” TIOL, page 130

Note that at no point in the story does Sinclair give any indication of his opinion about Joey’s appearance. This is happening entirely inside Joey’s own mind.

In addition to his looks, Joey is also deeply concerned about not appearing childish and weak in front of the detective:

“My eyes were watering now It looked like I was crying and I felt humiliated at the thought.” TIOL, page 122

“I felt even more annoyed now, and rightfully so. Detective Sinclair had said I could come along on his investigations, obviously it had been a lie. It felt very much like he didn't want me there for any of the one-on-ones, like I'd spoil it or something. Quite frankly, I didn’t enjoy being treated like a child this way.

“You can take a seat, Joey," said Detective Sinclair. I rolled my eyes inwardly; nope, did not enjoy being treated like a child at all. "Sit next to me, love," said Mrs. Pepper, enthusiastically petting the spot beside her. I smiled because she was being kind and I did as she requested.” TIOL, page 133

Once again we see a stark contrast in how he reacts to a man offering him a seat vs a woman doing the same. He wants Sinclair to treat him as an equal, an adult, a “real man”, and he doesn’t much care about the opinion of Mrs. Pepper.

And then this happens:

"Detective Sinclair, thank you for your time, (...)You should leave, no one needs you anymore!” Detective Sinclair didn't say anything back. That was when I finally saw the man behind the character. A weak man who needed validation just like the rest of them. (...) I felt uncomfortable, a little disgusted even. Here was a man I'd admired despite it all, and here he was at the end, with nothing. I saw it now, the other illusion: the role of detective he was wearing, indifferent, cold, emotionless. None of it was true. (...)I knew he wanted me to go with him, but I didn't. His part in my story was done now.” TIOL, page 144

I think this moment speaks more about Joey’s character than it does about Sinclair’s. After spending dozens of pages seeking validation and approval from this man, Joey instantly discards him the moment he realizes that Sinclair isn’t actually the living embodiment of this idealized image of a “Real Man” that he has internalized in his formative years. 

Perhaps the thing that initially drove him to Sinclair (and later to Sammy) was the qualities he saw in them, that he wishes he could possess himself. Perhaps he has convinced himself that if he could get these men to recognize him as an equal, a fellow “god”, his “illusion” would finally be complete and he could truly live up to the standards set by the society he was raised in.

[bemused-writer]

Vanitas no Carte Mémoire 49 Analysis

It took me a great deal longer to get to this than it normally does. Life has been busy! But what a chapter; there were a lot of unforeseen things that happened in this one.

The previous chapter explored Misha and Vanitas's time with Dr. Moreau and their eventual in the form of Vanitas of the Blue Moon. This chapter continues that thread and we get some idea of what their time with VotBM was actually like. Needless to say, it's a bit different from what I anticipated.

VotBM's personality is a lot more easy-going in a lot of ways than I thought it would be. Before now, all the flashbacks portrayed her as a somber person, but, of course, we were only seeing her somber introduction at Dr. Moreau's lab. There are certain impressions I had of her that haven't changed, though, and that's that she is powerful and knowledgeable.

Right here we can see she has a pretty good understanding of the chasseurs and how they operate, but we notably still don't know why she was there to begin with. Later in this chapter, Vanitas directly asks her why she has saved them, which is essentially asking why she was there, and she doesn't answer. We never get an answer and I find that a bit suspicious. Why not say something even if it's just "they were bad people and I wanted to stop them?" But she doesn't, which implies that isn't why she did what she did.

We finally get to see VotBM's facial features as well. I think I've seen some people compare her looks to Faustina's, but I'm not sure I can see that very well just yet. It certainly would be interesting if they turned out to have a connection, though! What I can say is that VotBM's eye has many spirals in it, which is similar to Ruthven's. If this is a mark of a vampire's power (and a vampire's eyes do seem to have a lot to do with their power) then I think it's safe to say VotBM is very powerful indeed. She also has some crystalline decorations underneath her eyes and I can't say if that's actually part of her skin or just makeup. If it is part of her skin, perhaps it's another mark of being born under a blue moon? Or perhaps of her power?

Regarding her eyes, I will also note we only ever see the one; her other eye is conveniently covered by her hair. Is it because it's missing or is there some other reason? Vanitas, when he tried to hurt her, went right for her eye, which is how she identified he'd had chasseur training. Could she have had a run in with some chasseurs that went badly at some point in her life?

Another impression I had of VotBM was that she was a loner outside of Vanitas and Misha, but that is quickly disproven as well. She says "Those around me call me Vanitas" and she acquires lodging through a human contact. Therefore, VotBM must speak with people a fair amount, and by the sounds of it she speaks most with humans who dabble in the occult. When you think about it, it makes sense. Other vampires would be too frightened or suspicious of her to want anything to do with her, while devout humans would likely see her as a devil. But humans that are also outsiders with their beliefs? Perfect companionship for one such as herself. I wonder where this puts dhampirs. Would she interact with them or would they be more likely to share most vampire's views on her? We've never heard Dante talk about her nor any of the other dhampirs, so I guess we can't say just yet.

Getting back to VotBM's name, it's interesting that she says she doesn't have a name she likes yet. Names have a lot of meaning for vampires. I wonder if she's being honest when she says she simply hasn't found one she likes or if there's another reason for not choosing one. Maybe a name, even one that isn't a true name, can have power and she doesn't want to risk it?

So, we learn a little bit about VotBM, but we also learn some things of Vanitas. Oddly, while these are supposed to be Misha's memories, I feel like we're learning a lot more about everyone else. I suppose he is trying to show Noé that VotBM was killed by Vanitas and that is why he should help him, but still.

I think we're starting to get to the root of some of Vanitas's issues with women at long last. So, he never met his mother, but he's constantly told he looks like her. He assumes his father must have hated him for taking his mother away, which implies his father did something to give that impression, though we aren't told what. And then there's the small matter of Vanitas doing all the feminine chores of the household. This one is a lot more indirect, but we can infer it from a later scene with Misha and VotBM:

So, VotBM is a bad cook. It's portrayed humorously, but what we really learn is that Vanitas is a great cook. And a great tidier. It also looks like he continues to do the baking for their trio judging by the second panel and it looks like quite elaborate baking as well. It also continues to be proven that VotBM honestly has no idea what to feed children whatsoever judging by the alcohol. At least she only gave it to Vanitas...

What I'm getting at, though, is that in order for Vanitas to be this good at cooking and cleaning, he'd have to have done a lot of it already. It's possible his father was a meticulous person and taught him. Perhaps it's something they enjoyed doing together. Or, alternatively, without a wife he gave all the traditionally feminine tasks to his son and expected him to take care of things. I kind of think it's the latter considering Vanitas's issues with women. He was constantly compared to his mother visually when he was young (and indeed both VotBM and Misha exclaim she must have been beautiful, implying Vanitas himself is beautiful like a woman), was likely expected to maintain the home, and his father may have resented him for not being his wife. We also have Vanitas trying to be a doctor in the present, which was his father's profession. Indeed, Vanitas has gone out of his way (in some regards; his hair is an anomaly here) to behave in a "masculine" fashion: he tries to take charge of his relationships with women, makes digs at other people (i.e. Astolfo) for looking feminine, and is trying to pursue a career he associates with men's work. Talk about a lot self-image problems all rolled up into one person!

And here's the thing. I think Vanitas might genuinely enjoy cooking and cleaning to some degree (he certainly dislikes messiness at least), which might make things all the worse for him since I think he's trying to assert is masculinity and he probably doesn't see that as masculine. It's hard to say; we still haven't heard much from Vanitas himself on a lot of different matters.

Another revelation about Vanitas this chapter is just how kind he is, as much as he does his very best to hide it both in the past and the present.

VotBM points out that with his chasseur skills, Vanitas could have easily escaped from Dr. Moreau and his lackeys. So why did he stay? And the reason was very simply so that no one else would be hurt to get to him. Someone--a stranger--had been killed so that Moreau could kidnap Vanitas. If he escaped, how many otherw would be hurt to get him back?

Earlier in this arc we saw that Vanitas allowed himself to be tortured to protect Misha. I found this surprising because, while it's in character, it's also an extreme action to take. But now we discover that Vanitas didn't just do that because he kind of knew Misha; he cares so much about others' lives he subjected himself to Moreau well before he met Misha.

Vanitas has a lot of things to work out in the present, but there's no denying there's a genuinely good and kind person underneath all his hangups, and that person is coming to the forefront more and more as the series goes on. Even though things started out remarkably poorly with Jeanne, there's no denying he is trying to help her in his own way, and he's been softer towards Noé lately as well. Vanitas does care about people; he just wishes he didn't.

Around this point, Noé begins to surface from Misha's memories or at least they begin to fast forward. Still, there are a few important points that are made before the chapter ends. One of those revelations is that Moreau's experiment on Vanitas and Misha nearly worked: they were very nearly rewritten into being vampires. But it didn't quite work and they're now hovering between the two races. I wonder if this is a problem dhampirs have and, if not, why not? All of this has raised a lot of questions about dhampirs for me. Regardless, VotBM solves the problem by making them her kin. I don't quite understand how marking them prevents them from being rewritten. I mean, I think it was a temporary fix because if they use her power they wind up rewritten anyway, so I guess it's more like stuffing a shirt into a leaking pipe. It slows things down, but you still have a problem.

Misha accepts VotBM's offer readily, but Vanitas flat out refuses, saying he wants to "stay human until the very end" and if that isn't ominous foreshadowing I don't know what is. What does being rewritten mean now that he's been marked by VotBM? Will he simply die or will he lose his humanity instead? But despite Vanitas's refusal, we know he is marked by VotBM. Did he change his mind or was it forced on him? The flashback doesn't say. But it does show us this:

That first image is a little unclear. I'm positive the text panel was placed in just such a fashion to obscure important information, but basically we see that Vanitas was marked by VotBM. There's blood all over him, which also implies there was either a struggle to prevent this from happening or, I guess, he was coughing up blood and dying. Misha was bleeding quite a bit as he was being rewritten, too. Hard to say. But the second panel shows that Vanitas really did kill VotBM. Unless she can come back from the dead, she seems pretty definitively dead, turned to dust and everything, and it's heavily implied he killed her for marking him.

And yet, that still feels nearly too straightforward. I don't actually have an alternate theory at this time, but I have to wonder if that's all it was or if there was more to it. It's decidedly strange for him not to just tell Misha; certainly Noé's life would be easier right about now if he had.

And speaking of Noé and Misha, we have jumped back to the present! And Vanitas has arrived!

I had wondered how Vanitas would react when he found Misha and Noé, whether he would be furious, shocked, appalled, etc. It seems, for now, that he's settled on "dour acceptance." He definitely doesn't look shocked, so he had some idea of what Misha was going to pull. And while he doesn't look happy he doesn't look overtly furious either. Very curious how things are going to continue in the next chapter, which to my understanding will be in March. Ahh, let's do our best to wait patiently! I really want to know what happens. XD