#it's frankly about neck biting and love as consumption but still!

[loversandantiheroes]

Listen, I am an extremely sex positive person and there is little I like more than a good old fashioned "idiots fuck around and fall in love" smut fic, but I feel like there just isn't enough exploration of Astarion falling in love through feeding on Tav. Like, seriously, the man has been subsisting on rats and insects for two hundred years, and the first person he ever feeds on just...lets him do it? Willingly? I mean it's not exactly a surprise that Tav has to practically throw him off to get him to stop - it's not just that their blood is the best meal he's ever had, but he's never bitten anything with the intent to let it live before.

And then it has to go off the rails so fast for him if Tav lets him do it again. This man who has had everything stripped from him for so long now having this person who's willing to actually give him part of themselves to keep him fed and happy. Like, he outright tells you this is a gift you're giving him, one he surely did not expect to ever receive again, but now he's watching them stagger off to the healers in the morning for a lesser restoration before they even bother to stop at the fire for a cup of coffee, and all he can do is marvel at the sheer novelty of the situation, because to examine it closer, to really think about someone being selfless enough to give him what he needs for no other reason than that he needs it might send him into a spiral of paranoia.

And then for that to become habit. Coming to their bedroll as quietly as he can, learning to gentle his bite to something less feral, something more easily controlled. It's slower this way, careful and measured to make sure they don't wake, and he's sinking a little more into that embrace every night.

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

CURSED: CHAPTER SIX

"I torture you."

Kai Parker x OC!Mack Grace

Series synopsis: "We're both cursed, in a way."

We all know the story of Kai Parker, but he once lived in a very different life. Do you ever wonder what that life looked like?

Chapter summary: Ben doesn’t know what ‘no’ means, Mack meets Joshua

Warnings: smut ahead, IMPLIED SEXUAL VIOLENCE - if this makes you uncomfortable, don’t read. Your media consumption is your own.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

As they reached the top of the stairs Ben tugged Mack into the nearest room and spun her around, pinning the girl to the door. His lips crashed to hers in a lustful kiss that scared Mack. His hand braces against the Wood next to her head whilst his other one rested on her hip with a vice grip - strong enough to leave bruises. She gasped as his lips connected with her neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses over the soft skin. As he brought his mouth back to hers tried to pull away.

"Ben, stop." But he didn't, his hands now groping and touching her. "Ben! I said stop!" She cried.

"You always play hard to get, but I know you want it," he mumbled against her skin, kid lips tracing over her jaw, "because deep down, you're just a little slut." He growled, reaching under her skirt and tugging her panties down.

"Help! Someone, please hel-" she tried shouting, but his hand clamped over her mouth.

"Shhhh, we don't want to get caught, baby." His breath in her ear sent chills down Mack's spine and she shuddered, bracing her hands on his shoulders to try and push him off but before she got the chance he collected her wrists in his hand and pinned them over her head. His knee between her legs kept them parted and his other hand worked on his belt buckle, then his jean's zipper. When his trousers were half-way down his thighs he hiked her leg up to his waist.

~

Kai's eyes stayed trained into the door for a moment, the terror-filled look in Mack's eyes when they met his engrained in his mind. After a moment of contemplating he decided to follow them, slipping out the room almost unnoticed. But he wasn't. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, a hand curled around his bicep and pulled him to face her.

"Hey handsome. Going somewhere?" Her soft voice drawled. She slid her hand up his chest and fiddled with the buttons of his pull-over before his hands came up to grip her wrists and pull them off him.

"Yes, actually. So if you wouldn't mind." Kai said with irritation, letting go of her and turning to walk up the stairs. But she grapes his wrist and spun him back around. She slinked closer and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, playing with the collar of his shirt.

"You seem agitated, maybe you could use some," she paused and leant into him, her breath fanning over his neck as she whispered in his ear, "company." Her voice was seductive but Kai sighed and pushed her off him, making the girl stumble back a few steps.

"I'm fine. Go find some other guy to fuck." Kai spat before charging up the stairs. He instantly paused as he reached the top, the sound of a girls muffled screams filling his ears. Before he could do anything they stopped. He looked around confused, before the door opposite swung open and Ben sauntered out, a smug smirk on his face.

He noticed Kai and his smirk grew, giving the witch a clap on the shoulder with his hand before making his way down the stairs. Kai eyes the room suspiciously and slowly pushed the door open. His attention was immediately caught by a girl curled into a ball on the floor, her head resting in her hands.

"H-hello?" He asked tentatively, not wanting to spook her. The girl look up with a tear-stained face and puffy, red eyes. The emptiness in them was unmistakable. "Kenz?" Kai all but whispered. As they held eye contact she broke into tears again, burying her face back into her hands. He cautiously moved to sit next to her, bringing his knees up to his chest and mimicking her position. "A-are you okay?"

Mack look over at him with a red face and a broken expression. That was enough of an answer for him.

"Kai." His head snapped in her direction.

"Yes?"

"Why is my life so shitty?" Her voice cracked as she spoke.

"W-What do you mean?" His eyebrows pulled together. Bad life? Kai had no idea.

"My family is in dept - crippling dept - my mom is dead, I probably won't get to go to college, my boyfriend is a dick who just fucking raped me and I'm a, a-" she was interrupted by more sobs wracking her small frame. His eyes widened and Kai's features formed an expression of shock before it morphed into one of rage.

"He what?!" Kai growled, balling his hands into fists. He went to stand by Mack's small hand around his arm stopped him, making his face sink back into one of pity and concern. "Why?" Kai's voice cracked this time too. Mack only shook her head, still confused herself. As Kai sunk back into his position next to her, Mack rested her head on his shoulder, testing the waters. When he didn't move or try to push her away, she relaxed into him and his arm found its way around her shoulder - holding Mack in a warm embrace while she cried against his shoulder.

After what felt like hours - but was probably mere minutes - Kai spike up again.

"Before, when you were upset, you said you were 'a' and then cut off. What did you mean?" He asked carefully, not wanting to set her off again. Mack pulled back enough to look him in the eyes, her own ones soft and doe-like.

"I didn't say that." Her voice was calm. A scowl overcame Kai.

"Yes you did. You know you can tell me, right? I promise I won't tell anyone." He spoke frankly, rubbing her arm reassuringly.

"Promises are a way of giving false hope to someone in order to get what you want. No one ever keeps a promise because they never intend to in the first place." Mack shot back bitterly, surprising Kai with her anger in the sudden outburst.

"Okay then, I give you my word. I will or tell a soul as long as I live." He said, pretending to zip his mouth shut and throw away the imaginary key. Mack's eyes crinkled up as she giggled, Kai letting out a soft chuckle.

"I'm, I'm a - um..." she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. Kai gave her a nod of encouragement and a small smile. Mack closed her eyes for a moment before reopening them, but the sight of his face made it feel impossible to even comprehend what to say.

Without warning Mack stood up, pulling out of the embrace and storming out the room, the door slamming behind her.

~

It was Monday, Mack and Jo were sat at their usual spot on the bleachers, chatting about everything - the fit guy in Jo's art class, Mack's sister being a bitch, how Jo's trip went. Then the party came up.

"So Kai mentioned that he had some people over last weekend- and that you came." Jo took a bite of her sandwich, looking at Mack with a knowing look. God, Kai, Mack thought. She had barely seen him all week. She had skipped first period last Monday, gone to the nurse the next day and after that she just ignored him - tuning him out like she did everyone else. She didn't go near him at lunch and made sure not to go anywhere he could be. Though by Friday it proved a challenge, as Ben had been all over her again and tried to convince Mack to hang out with them again. She'd also been avoiding Ben, barely able to look the bastard in the eye after what he did. He rolled her eyes internally before responding to Jo.

"It's not like that. Ben dragged me along. And anyway, wouldn't you find it odd if I was hooking up with your twin?" Mack waved off. Jo giggled and swallowed the bite she just took.

"Well, yeah. But I'd still want you to tell me if anything was happening. And besides, it's him I'd be mad at, not you silly." Jo laughed, screwing up the foil her sandwich hand been in and throwing it towards a bin nearby. When it missed she scold and stood up, slowly walking over to put the crumpled foil in the bin.

While she was away Mack didn't even notice Ben sliding onto the seat next to her until he planted a kiss to her cheek. Mack instantly cringed away, stiffening at the touch.

"Hey babe, haven't seen you all week. Where you been?" He asked as if nothing was wrong, flinging an arm over Mack's shoulder. She rolled her eyes before looking at him.

"I've just been busy, helping dad at home and doing homework I guess." She dismisses. Ben's face grew irritated.

"But spending time with you're boyfriend is also important. Far more so than helping your pathetic dad who need to just pull it together." He scoffed, making Mack grow angry.

"Don't. Talk. About. My. Dad. Like. That." She said through gritted teeth.

"Don't talk to me like that." Ben shot back, giving her a warning glance. At this she piped down and instead focused her attention to her lap, where she played with the hem of her jumper. Jo waved at Ben as she walked back over, who waved back and greeted her.

"Well as lovely as this has been, I better get back before the guys think you two kidnapped me. Bye babe, bye Jo." Ben said, placing a chaste kiss on Mack's lips before heading back off to where the crowd of popular guys were crowded. Jo stared off after him.

"You're so lucky." She sighed.

"I am?" Mack retorted. Jo looked at Mack as if she'd just claimed to see a flying pig, clear and utter confusion in her gaze.

"What do you mean 'am I?' If course you are! You get a guy like that and I'm stuck here with no one, all alone while you get sweet kisses and visits from your super hot boyfriend." Jo ranted, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. If only you knew, Mack thought.

"It's not all that, y'know. You can't be caught gawking at cute guys in public." Mack brushed off, trying so hard not to say exactly what she wanted. 'He's a fucking rapist who doesn't give a shit about me' Mack wanted to shout, 'he only cares about his fucking reputation and whether his dick is the biggest out of all his friends' she wishes she could scream. But she couldn't.

"Hey, do you want to come round mine after school? I thought we could study for that maths test we have Thursday." Jo suggested, sipping from her coke bottle. Mack smiled warmly.

"That'd be great. I'm awful at maths, maybe you could help a little?"

"Oh, I'm shit too, but don't worry. Kai's great at maths - I'm sure he'd help if you needed it." That's when Mack remembered that going to Jo's would mean facing Kai, but she couldn't say no now. It would be rude and unfriendly. Ugh, having a friend was much harder than Mack remembered.

~

The ride from school back to Jo's was awkward and full of an uncomfortable silence, the tension from whatever it was that happened between Kai and Mack still fresh in both their minds. As they pulled into the drive Mack quietly thanked Kai for driving before both girls hoped out, the mood instantly changing as the walked through the door. The two girls sat down in the kitchen, pulling out textbooks and flash cards.

An hour later and Mack sighed frustratedly, slamming her book shut and leaning back in her chair. Kai stifled a laugh from where he sat at the breakfast bar, silently reading a comic book.

"Need some help, babe?" He taunted, instantly reviving a glare that shot daggers from Mack.

"Kai, don't ever call my friends 'babe'" Jo complained. Kai stuck his tongue out at her before hopping off his stood and seating himself beside Mack.

"You know, if you let me help you, you might actually pass the test." Kai spoke as if Mack was a small child, slowly saying each word so she would understand. Mack hit him in the arm playfully and Kai leaned back, holding his hands up in surrender. Mack rolled her eyes and Kai shot her a quick wink, before motioning to the textbook. Mack kept looking at him for a moment longer before caving, opening to the right page.

"Oooh, quadratics. A hard one, I'll give you that." He commented when he saw the page, giving Mack a mock-sympathetic look. She scoffed.

"I just don't get it." Mack lamented, holding her head in her hands.

"What's the part you don't get, babe?" Kai asked leaning over the book. Both Mack and Jo shot him a death glare and he chuckled, muttering an 'okay, okay. I'll stop.' Before going back to helping her. "Ahhh, so it's the factorising you don't get. Well don't worry, I'm brilliant at fitting numbers into things." He said with a suggestive wink, making Mack's eyes roll. Kai chuckled.

~

"Hey dad!" Jo called as someone walked through the door, the sound of it closing behind him echoing.

"Hey, honey." He greeted as he walked into the kitchen. "Who's this friend of yours?" He asked, eyeing Mack and Kai sat next to each other.

"Oh this is Mack, the one I said about from school." Jo said brightly. Kai looked up at their dad and gave him a tight, mocking smile.

"Hello, Mack. I'm Joshua. It's nice to finally...meet you." Joshua said slowly, extending his hand towards the girl. Mack took it cautiously and shook. They released each other's hands and Kai looked at his dad.

"Hey dad, nice to be acknowledged." He deadpanned with a fake smile. Joshua rolled his eyes at the boy.

"Go to your room, Malachai. You know you're not meant to interact with the guests." Joshua demanded flatly. Kai reluctantly got up and walked out the room, pausing at the door and turning to face the girls.

"Good to see you, Kenz. Hope you pass that test." He sent her a wink and left, leaving Mack sat to figure out everything on her own again.

She shut her book and put it in her bag, standing up and looking to Jo.

"I should get going, I'll see you tomorrow." She turned to Joshua. "Thank you for having me, it was nice to meet you Mr. Parker." Mack thanked. Joshua waved her off.

"Good to meet you too, but please, call me  Joshua." Mack nodded and walked out, calling 'bye!' Before walking out the large, wooden door.

[ganymedesclock]

Honestly something I think is really interesting about the colony? I’ve called it a vampire story but it really is, down to a lot of the sort of classical hallmarks of the genre.

The Altean colony is set up to look like a beautiful, idyllic pastoral village surrounded by the forest. Everything’s nice there. There’s a local reclusive nobleman, rarely seen by the locals, who keeps to himself but he’s charming and everyone regards him well.

Now and then this noble takes people with him.

They aren’t seen again.

Because Lotor drains the life out of them behind closed doors.

Bandor returns to the colony, in the woods, at night. There’s that scene of Romelle hiding from Lotor- again, in the woods at night. This is one of the only nocturnal shots of the colony we see.

Once again, we have this vampire metaphor with the galra royal family, and it’s just a lot more literal than we’ve been led to believe before. Lotor’s not actively biting these people on the neck and drinking their blood, but, end result? Motives? Exactly the same. He has this population, and he’s feeding on them.

It even furthers what I’ve talked about before, that Lotor and Zarkon effectively represent very different conceptualizations of what a vampire is, with Lotor embodying the “modern” supernatural romance vampire, and Zarkon as the “classical” gothic horror vampire.

Zarkon’s consumption of people is glaringly obvious. His empire is festooned in people in rags, he has a huge cadre of functionally, other vampires. He hides nothing- will walk around with tubes of quintessence hanging out of his back while he’s recovering. Of course people die to feed him- because he’s a completely willing and knowing plague onto the universe. He’s better than them, he’s the immortal here.

He has zero guilt and zero shame. All mortals he contends with are his food, and from that he’ll occasionally promote them to “entertainment” or “assets”. At the end of the day, still livestock.

Lotor? Lotor feels guilty.

As soon as he realizes Romelle is in the room and processes what it means, he’s horrified. He flat-out says “I know what you must think of me” trying to negotiate with them and his counterpoint is basically just, that he genuinely wants to do good and that he meant what he said to Allura before.

And that’s frankly, vampire romance genre at its finest: the tragedy of the revelation that Lotor got this far by, in no uncertain terms, eating people (and over the course of his lifespan, that number’s added up to a pretty high total if we look at the number of names on the memorial and Romelle’s words) is in part framed in what it does for his love life. He and Allura love each other, but Lotor’s a vampire, he’s killed people just like Allura, and she can’t forgive him for that.

Which is totally understandable. But the heartbreak, the drama, the point of how Lotor’s terrified, outraged by the idea of, becoming like his unrepentantly parasitic father sets this up with very particular conventions.

Allura flat-out had herself a vampire romance. That’s what happened.

Now, I think the use of these conventions shed some interesting light on Lotor’s situation, and his likely motivations. Romelle says the decision to make the colony happened “generations ago” but she still describes it as very separate from the colony’s inception.

It’s very likely Lotor was getting his “food” somewhere else, and never originally conceptualized the colony as a source of energy.

But something happened. Those other sources ran dry. It’s likely Haggar, either directly or through Zarkon, pulled energy away from Lotor.

And Lotor knows the only way he’s ever going to fix the empire’s vampiric problem without going Van Helsing on himself and most of the galra, condemning the survivors- if there are any- to a vulnerable half-existence, is if he basically can get his hands on the quintessence field- the guilt-free, no-predation-necessary, infinite fountain of blood.

He needs energy to get there.

So his options are, die, become something he doesn’t want to, or compromise his morals in a really bad way and turn to the people who would patiently, obligingly follow him anywhere.

The vampire starves, and the neighbors start to look really, really tasty.

But Lotor’s still a moral person. He’s a good enough person to feel revolted and ashamed of what he’s doing. So he does something we never see Zarkon do- he buries it. Everything about it. And he’s horrified of people finding those skeletons. Again, seeing Romelle among his allies while they’re all accusative and doing the scifantasy equivalent of readying the stakes and garlic prompts undiluted terror from Lotor but his response is to try to appeal to Allura.

Again, bumping Lotor to “romance vampire” away from the gothic horror sensibilities of his father (even when the environment and setup of the colony evoke the latter)- he’s less focused on the peril this poses to him on being “outed” as a vampire and vastly more focused on Allura’s either rejection or forgiveness. When she rejects him, that sinks him, twice.

The first time, none of the weapons pointed at the paladins are what take Lotor down- it’s just Allura. Allura tosses Lotor, and Lotor stays down. He doesn’t wake up again except to face Haggar.

The second time, during the standoff, Lotor order the generals to hold their fire and repeatedly tries to appeal to them. It’s Allura’s word that makes or breaks that negotiation, and that’s not because Lotor’s a blameless sheep.

It furthers the dynamic we’ve seen before, that Lotor’s not emptily manipulating Allura, but that his feelings for her cause him to repeatedly make his vulnerability available to Allura. And in the conflict between them, we see this flexed in practice. Lotor’s put a huge amount of power in Allura’s hands, and when, feeling hurt and betrayed herself, she uses it to hurt him right back, that has a colossal destabilizing effect on basically everything Lotor’s standing on.

Lotor’s breakdown is instrumental to his losing the generals’ support, which, since this is Voltron, Hunk’s point about how it’s now four-on-one (and eventually five-on-one) is completely true.

Lotor’s literally a supernatural being- an immortal, a vampire- by the lore of the story. But Allura, not just through her own developing magic, but through her relationship with Lotor, is the one who holds the power here. Her approval or rejection makes or breaks him because he’s fascinated with her, he adores her.

It’s a complete fundamental deconstruction of the predatory way every other incarnation of Lotor went after Allura, where Allura had to, one way or another, fight to retain her autonomy in the presence of a pursuing monster. And again, this is kind of a vampire romance thing- as in, the power fantasy of a woman being able to tame a powerful and dangerous creature.

The colony and Allura’s completely understandable reaction to Lotor are functionally set-pieces in this vampire romance. It paints Lotor as a shade of gray. We’ve seen his values and we understand them. We see what he’s dealing with and we can sympathize. At the end of the day, though, he’s not a proper squeaky clean hero like Allura is.

Lotor felt backed into a corner and the only way out was to compromise his own morals and sate that bloodthirsty appetite. Other alternatives may have been open to him, but they would probably require trust, or otherwise abetting power- things that Lotor can’t believe in because from his perspective the only way things won’t hurt him is if he’s strong enough to hold their teeth away from his throat himself.

And he’s aware of it! Heck, if you look at the substance of his harsh words on Alfor, he’s actively self-conscious about it! We have to remember Lotor’s repeatedly expressed deep admiration for Alfor and that slips through even at his absolute worst- he’s eager to see if Sincline holds up against Alfor’s legacy, so even after he insists he’s better than Alfor he’s using Alfor’s handiwork as a metric.

So Lotor sneering about how if it had been up to Alfor and Alfor’s strategy, all of the Alteans would have died, it’s kind of his furious, hurt thesis that if it weren’t for him, the vampire, who’s yes taken the selfish option and bloodied his own hands, chosen his own preservation over staying true to his values, they wouldn’t have gotten here. 

And again, that frames it back to... there’s this fundamental difference where Zarkon makes cruel choices out of a lack of sympathy. Why should he care what anyone else feels, why should he care who has to suffer to fill his hunger? Zarkon effectively chose to be a vampire. He said “damn my friends, damn the universe, I’ll take my wife to the rift if it kills me” and we never really see Zarkon disappointed in the result.

Lotor didn’t choose. Lotor got handed this stick before he was born by Zarkon’s decisions and that’s the thematic motifs here- that Lotor got saddled against his will with this hunger, so his “fall” isn’t set to the same metrics Zarkon was. He doesn’t have a perfectly good opportunity to put the knife down and walk away and live out his natural mortal life because eating other people is unappealing to him.

Because of the world Zarkon’s created, because of what Zarkon did to him from the cradle, Lotor’s option is to compromise himself or compromise somebody else. And we’ve known from the start Lotor is a scared, vulnerable person. We know that push comes to shove, his own survival is a very powerful motivator because he feels like it’s constantly in peril.

But he made that choice. He made the decision to keep living, keep chasing his ambitions, knowing exactly at what kind of cost it would come, and this fuels a line of guilt that he doesn’t feel worthy of Allura- Allura, whose parents, who the world around her, provided what she needed even when she lost everything else. Allura, who hasn’t faced the prospect of starving or resorting to other people in order to survive. 

Remember how easily he gave up on Oriande because it rejected him once? Remember how he didn’t actually expect to get in there at all, and- according to what he tells Ezor and Zethrid, was sure that he’d need someone of Allura’s purity to get in there at all?

Believe me, I’m as upset by Lotor’s breakdown here as anybody else, but the colony is something that adds up perfectly with what we know of Lotor as a person, who he is, his relationship with Allura. This is drama you’d absolutely slide off the shelf in the supernatural teen romance section of the library- well, if you found a well-written teen romance.

(The fact that I ship Lotura when I don’t even like a lot of other vampire romance stories should probably tell you something about the writing and my esteem)

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 26: Farewell, Distant Days

Dear Icebergs readers—as we’ve reached the first season finale of LoGH, we’ve inevitably arrived at some pretty serious spoilers, so if you haven’t already seen all of LoGH season one, I would advise against reading any further. Instead, you can find our FAQs here and our very first post here, and we hope to see you back here soon!

Everyone else: When you're ready, please proceed to our episode 26 post, below. —the editors

September-October 797/488. Ansbach’s assassination attempt on Reinhard is thwarted by Kircheis—first by knocking his gun out of the way, and then by taking fire himself from yet another concealed weapon, this time in Ansbach’s ring. Ansbach shoots through Kircheis’s chest and neck, then bites a poison pill to commit suicide. Reinhard’s admirals scramble, but it’s too late to save Kircheis, who dies while Reinhard holds his hand and looks on in bewilderment. Beyond devastated, Reinhard shuts himself away with Kircheis’s body for days on end. Oberstein convinces the admirals to cast former ally Lichtenlade as a scapegoat for Ansbach’s crime, and, grateful for something to do, the entire fleet storms Odin. Meanwhile, Oberstein informs Annerose of Kircheis’s death, Reuental receives an unexpected invitation, and Reinhard hardens his heart.

Reinhard and Kircheis

The first time I watched episode 26 of Legend of Galactic Heroes, there was a moment when, literally sitting on the edge of my seat, I wondered if this show was about to disappoint me horribly. Kircheis was, clearly, dying. The admirals were fluttering around him trying and failing to stop the bleeding, giving up on leaving to go get a doctor—too quickly, it seemed. And where was Reinhard? Why wasn’t he there?

As a queer consumer of media, I’m used to this kind of disappointment. Seeing my experiences reflected onscreen at all remains rare, and when a piece of media does deign to include a queer character or two, more often than not they’re killed off unceremoniously in as homophobically moralizing a way as possible. The death scenes of queer characters tend to leave me with a sick feeling not because I’m grieving the character but because I hate that I’ve had to give up on expecting queer characters and their relationships to be given a fraction of the respect afforded their straight counterparts.

The first 25 episodes of LoGH had surprised me with their nuanced and respectful depiction of queerness, in particular of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship. But as a seasoned veteran of queer media consumption, as Kircheis bled out on the floor while Reinhard did who knows what across the room, I didn’t know how else to interpret what I was seeing other than “Kircheis is about to die alone.” My stomach hurt. And then, this happened:

Given that it’s animated, LoGH has so far been remarkable in its commitment to realism. Without exception, what has been shown to us onscreen has been presented as an accurate depiction of events; the closest to a diversion from that has been the show’s frequent use of flashbacks, but even those are always anchored to a specific character’s experience of remembering the past.

As Reinhard steps painstakingly down the stairs toward where Kircheis lays in a pool of his own blood, the creators of LoGH throw away their own established set of rules. What we are seeing is no longer what is literally happening; instead, we are with Reinhard—and for him, nothing in the world exists at that moment except Kircheis and himself. With this scene, the LoGH creative team show us that they will do whatever they have to in order to respect their characters: If there are too many people around for Reinhard and Kircheis to get the intimate last goodbyes they and their relationship deserve, well, everyone else will simply have to be removed.

Even the lack of voiceover accompanying Reinhard’s quick series of flashbacks here reinforces the extent to which reality has been skewed for the duration of this scene.

For me, this was when LoGH went from being a great show to being (as you may have noticed) my favorite show—and not just because of how kindly it treats its characters, even while they experience gut-wrenching tragedy. Kircheis’s death changes Reinhard and, as I’ll obviously be exploring at length as we move into season 2, that changes the entire landscape of the show. Though from the beginning it has always been deeply personal and human, especially for a war epic of such massive scale, the question of what Reinhard will do now, without Kircheis, turns LoGH psychologically dark in ways that have only been hinted at so far.

Back in episode 4, we were first introduced to Reinhard’s plan to gain enough power to rescue Annerose from the clutches of Kaiser Friedrich IV. Friedrich IV has since died of natural causes, freeing Annerose without Reinhard’s help. In episode 8, we learn that Reinhard’s ambitions extend to overthrowing the Goldenbaum empire, and then achieving supremacy over the entire universe—very specifically with Kircheis at his side. By the end of episode 26, Reinhard rules the empire in everything but name (the six-year-old Erwin Josef II still sits on the throne as Kaiser), but Kircheis is dead, rendering Reinhard’s longtime goal of joint conquest impossible.

For practical purposes, this barely matters: Above, Kircheis uses some of his last remaining energy to beg Reinhard to follow through with the plan they made together, in effect guaranteeing that he will continue on the same path after Kircheis dies. But in more abstract terms, both of Reinhard’s main reasons for seeking political power are now gone. And with a promise to the dead Kircheis as Reinhard’s driving force, Empire-side LoGH has suddenly become a very different show—one that is no longer about a man trying to conquer the universe, but is rather about a man searching for something to hold onto in a universe that, without Kircheis in it, seems to have very little to offer.

Annerose

But Reinhard shouldn’t feel entirely alone in the universe. After all, he has his sister, right? Well, not exactly. As Reinhard learns after Oberstein breaks the news of Kircheis’s death to Annerose (against Reinhard’s wishes), Annerose has decided now is the perfect time to do something really, really cruel: cut off contact with her grieving brother.

Reinhard’s Family

That the season 1 arc of Reinhard and Annerose’s relationship ends on a bad note is frankly an understatement, but to really dig into how things stand between them in episode 26, we must first get a handle on all the moving parts that brought them to this point.

Over the course of my season 1 posts, I’ve mapped out much of the dynamic between Reinhard and Annerose: Reinhard, who both idealizes and idolizes his sister, does so (unwittingly) at the expense of her personhood; Annerose, whose agency has been violently denied her since an early age, projects a portion of her (natural) resentment onto her brother, who moves freely about the universe steadily gaining power while her life remains stagnant. One aspect of their relationship that I haven’t examined, however, is the extent to which Annerose has played a parental role in Reinhard’s life.

In this scene from the episode 4 flashback, Reinhard assigns to Annerose the kind of responsibility for his behavior that would ordinarily be reserved for a parent or guardian.

And then, after Reinhard and Kircheis have conspired to keep Reinhard’s misdeeds from his sister, Annerose puts their wet clothes in the laundry and dotes on them with hot chocolate and freshly baked pie. This is maybe the most archetypal depiction of motherhood I’ve ever seen, despite the fact that Annerose is both 1. actually Reinhard’s sister and 2. only five years his senior.

Reinhard’s father, who sold Annerose into sexual slavery at the age of fifteen, is obviously awful. And Reinhard’s mother, who hasn’t even ever been mentioned, clearly never had much of a presence in Reinhard’s life. Annerose is the only person (besides, eventually, Kircheis) we ever see taking responsibility and caring for Reinhard.

Reinhard’s family, as it is presented to us, is comprised of three people: himself, Annerose, and Kircheis. Though Kircheis is literally never (not once in all of LoGH!) referred to as being “like a brother” to Reinhard, their constant companionship since a young age means that their interactions often blur the line between surrogate-familial and romantic. The fact that Reinhard always brings Kircheis with him on visits to Annerose, for example, indicates that he at least views the three of them as a tight-knit unit.

But in Reinhard’s chosen family, there is a clear delineation of roles between Annerose and himself/Kircheis. In the gif above, Reinhard and Kircheis sit across the table from Annerose, who acts like a parent not just to Reinhard but to Kircheis as well; the difference in age and maturity between them is underlined by both Annerose’s matter-of-fact competence and Reinhard and Kircheis’s unashamed (and matching) nudity.

The photo that Kircheis gazes at in episode 25 (which eventually shows up in Reinhard’s locket, discussed later in this post) also draws a solid line between Annerose—who is more than a full head taller than the boys—and Reinhard/Kircheis. Kircheis’s sideways gaze at Reinhard serves to emphasize even further that they are a discrete pair.

Reinhard’s behavior towards Annerose starts to make more sense once you realize that he basically considers her his mother. Just as children tend not to understand—sometimes well into adulthood—that their parents are fully formed, flawed human beings with rich inner lives, so Reinhard has kept Annerose on a pedestal, treating her more like a symbol than a complex person. This also explains how Reinhard can, for example, be so blasé about teasing Kircheis in front of Annerose for his love of her cooking: Naïve as he is, the idea that Annerose might have feelings for Kircheis that go beyond platonic and motherly would never occur to Reinhard in a million years—unless something were to happen that brought Annerose’s feelings into stark relief.

Annerose Makes Up Her Mind

Which brings us back to the scene at hand, Kircheis’s death being the exact sort of cataclysmic event that might throw a wrench into Reinhard’s precarious relationship with his sister. And the second Annerose opens her mouth to speak, Reinhard knows something is wrong:

Annerose’s tone of voice here is as cold and distant as what she’s actually saying; rather than sharing in or sympathizing with Reinhard’s grief, she isolates him in it, trivializing his feelings of loss while also—by implying Kircheis was the only person Reinhard could ever care about losing—calling into question the authenticity of his devotion to her.

If Reinhard had been aware of all the little signs of Annerose’s resentment towards him that have been building up over the course of the last 25 episodes, this conversation might have gone differently—not because Annerose would have done a better job playing the part of the soothing sister/mother, but because Reinhard might not have been expecting her to. But Reinhard is naïve, especially about Annerose, so her abrupt switch from passive aggression (which Reinhard of course never picked up on) to overt hostility shocks Reinhard into a realization.

Above, Reinhard first protests Annerose’s disingenuous declaration that he has nothing left to lose, and then looks on in horror as it becomes clear that she intends to make it a true statement. But even while Reinhard listens, and responds, the gears are (visibly!) turning in his head, trying desperately to figure out what the fuck is going on. So let’s join him: What the fuck is going on?

First and foremost, I think, is Annerose’s desire for freedom. With Kircheis gone, she must realize that Reinhard’s need for her emotional support will increase astronomically. It’s one thing for her to live quietly in Reinhard’s mansion when he’s usually off gallivanting around space with his boyfriend; it’s quite another thing to share a home with someone who is grieving the loss of, as Mittermeyer so eloquently put it, half of his own self.

Because Reinhard may view Annerose as a mother, but that isn’t how Annerose views Annerose. We don’t actually know how she views herself—as I said back in episode 1, our entire characterization of Annerose is a reflection of how the world sees her—but we do know how she came to be Reinhard’s mother figure and, like her sale to Kaiser Friedrich IV, it wasn’t through any choice of her own.

In fact, this choice, the one to tell her grieving brother to fuck off so that she can finally get some time and space to herself, is the first choice we’ve ever seen Annerose make. So despite episode 26 ending on a catastrophic note for Reinhard’s relationship with Annerose, it ends on something of a triumphant note for Annerose herself: In choosing not to allow her well-meaning brother to use her as his personal grief counselor, she has finally, if perversely, reclaimed her agency.

Meanwhile, Reinhard has come to a completely different realization about Annerose’s motives:

My much earlier promise of a love triangle between Reinhard, Kircheis, and Annerose has finally come to fruition in true LoGH fashion, i.e. as morbidly as possible.

Make no mistake: The reason Reinhard asks this question of Annerose now is because it has never occurred to him before, and the reason it has occurred to him now is because Annerose is behaving in a way that he interprets as some mixture of jealous, vindictive, and heartbroken—none of which align with his image of his sister. Faced with her unambiguous and uncharacteristic cruelty, Reinhard searches around for an explanation and comes up with what would have sounded outlandish to him until this moment: romantic love.

But was Annerose in love with Kircheis? I don’t know. Frankly, I doubt Annerose knows (and we never get to see her answer, if she even gives one). Remember, Kircheis was ten years old to Annerose’s fifteen when she became the Kaiser’s concubine, meaning for most of the time they actually spent together, Annerose was basically Kircheis’s babysitter. It’s certainly possible that she developed romantic feelings for him over the years, or at least projected some romantic ideal onto him that she experienced as love. Given that he was probably the only male figure in her life besides her brother who was ever kind to her, it wouldn’t be surprising.

As a rival to Reinhard, though, my guess is that Annerose never considered herself in the running—and if anything, that would have made Kircheis an even safer object of affection for someone whose real-life experience with men was limited to a decade of blatant sexual exploitation. But that certainly doesn’t preclude jealousy or heartbreak; in that sense, Reinhard might be partially right about why Annerose chooses to act the way she does.

The accuracy of Reinhard’s suspicions, however, isn’t particularly important. What matters is that Reinhard has had this realization at all: In yet another twisted triumph for Annerose, and at immense cost, her brother has finally realized that she’s human.

Queerness

Given the reasons for the existence of this blog, it’s only fitting that we end our first season with a discussion of how LoGH treats queerness. Conveniently, this coincides with the creative team’s decision to convert a substantial portion of the show’s queer subtext into explicit text, done via multiple perspectives and narrative techniques throughout the season finale.

Our first open acknowledgement of the romantic nature of Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship comes, unfortunately, from Kircheis’s murderer, Ansbach. The phrase “other half,” unlike much of the language used thus far to describe Reinhard and Kircheis, doesn’t have a heteronormative surface reading.

Incidentally, Ansbach’s easy familiarity with the concept of a romantic partnership between two men has always been one of the things that made me wonder about his feelings for Braunschweig—along with the fact that immediately after this, Ansbach tells Braunschweig to “wait for him in Valhalla” before killing himself.

Kircheis’s last words, too, work to remove a layer of heteronormativity from LoGH’s surface reading, albeit more subtly:

In this final, stunning example of a Reinhard-Bechdel Test failure, Kircheis uses his last breath to ask Reinhard to tell Annerose... that he kept his promise to be a good friend to Reinhard.

In a heteronormative piece of media, when a male character brings up a female character’s name in his dying breath, one would probably expect him to declare his undying love for her. That Kircheis starts his last sentence with “Please tell Lady Annerose...” and finishes it with a positive allusion to his relationship with Reinhard is an incredible subversion of heteroromantic tropes. It even goes so far as to “straight-bait,” dangling the possibility of Kircheis’s romantic feelings for Annerose in front of the viewer before categorically dismissing it.

Later, while Reinhard mourns, Mittermeyer uses similar language to Ansbach’s, above, to explain to Müller why Reinhard is in such an inconsolable state:

Like Ansbach’s usage of “other half,” Mittermeyer’s “half of his own self” doesn’t have a non-romantic interpretation to bolster LoGH’s increasingly shaky heteronormative surface reading. Also like (maybe) Ansbach, Mittermeyer is a character who (as we’ll see much more of soon) can speak from his personal experiences with queer romance, making him perfect for delivering this unambiguous message not just to other characters, but also to the viewer.

The last scene of the episode and the season finds Reinhard at Kircheis’s grave which, yet again, emphasizes his romantic relationship with Reinhard, and not just because of the inscription’s use of the singular possessive “my”:

Though the German “Mein Freund” directly translates to “my friend,” that isn’t actually how the phrase is used in Germany, where “Mein Freund” most frequently refers to a male romantic partner. The only ambiguity about Kircheis’s inscription is in how it’s translated: as わが友 in Japanese or, literally, “my friend,” obscuring the German usage and allowing it to continue to pass as heteronormative.

After placing flowers on Kircheis’s grave, Reinhard sits back, revealing that he has started wearing a locket. Opening it, he shows us that it contains a photo we’ve seen before of Reinhard with his chosen family, and a lock of Kircheis’s hair:

Season one of Legend of Galactic Heroes ends on a deeply personal note, and it also ends on a series of questions: What, or who, will Reinhard find to fill the gaping hole in his life left by Kircheis’s death? Will it be his rivalry with Yang? Other, darker questions are left unspoken, but their presence is felt nonetheless: Will Reinhard find something to “quench the thirst in his heart”? And, if not, what then?

Stray Tidbits

During this post, as usual, I’ve used gifs from the LD (original) versions of LoGH instead of their redrawn versions. Episode 26 was almost entirely redrawn, and many of the “remastered” scenes are dramatically different from their original versions, so I’m gonna give a few sample comparisons here. Kircheis’s death scene, for example, was changed to make his physical process of dying appear significantly less grisly. Below, on the left, the redrawn Kircheis’s body is still and his eyes are focused on Reinhard; on the right, the original Kircheis’s breaths are visibly laborious and painful, and his eyes are unfocused:

Below, Reinhard’s facial expressions and reactions during his conversation with Annerose were changed so drastically that he might as well be a different character. In the redraw (left), Reinhard is practically throwing a tantrum; in the original (right), Reinhard is still shocked, but keeps his composure as he struggles to process his sister’s unexpected cruelty, placing the emphasis squarely on his thoughts rather than on his feelings:

On a lighter note, the redraw team seems to have been confused (or, less charitably, offended) by this public display of intimacy between Reuental and Mittermeyer—in the redraw (left), Reuental stops Mittermeyer from standing by either touching his hand or just making a motion as if to touch his hand, keeping a respectful distance; in the original (right), Reuental physically impedes Mittermeyer from standing up by placing his hand on *draws a diagram* his very inner thigh, and leaving it there:

A small worldbuilding note: The dates on Kircheis’s grave are wrong! He was actually born in 467, not 468, according to every other marker of time in the LoGH universe.

And now for something extremely disturbing: An official LoGH-branded Kircheis roomba exists. When it’s low on batteries, it says, “I won’t be able to serve you anymore, Reinhard-sama.” Sadly, this is real and I’m not making it up.

[birdofdoom]

Partners pt.2

Hey, everyone, it’s finally here! I’m so sorry for the delay. As always, I am really trying to improve and would be incredibly grateful for feedback and criticism. Also, I hope it fulfills expectations. Requests are open. I’ll be posting two more completed requests this weekend.

To give a quick synopsis, the reader and Tommy are married however at the reader’s birthday party Tatiana flirts with Tommy. A huge fight ensues causing the reader to ask for a divorce. This picks up as soon as the last one lets off.

Her feet were sore. The thrum of the party and the laughter and joyous music fell flat. She was angry and repulsed and tired. The stale smell of smoke was suffocating. Her body was hot from yelling; tears and sweat staining her gown. The warm breezes in the spring night made her hair stick to the back of her neck. Her makeup was smeared. All she had wanted was one night to be her own; one night of frivolity and happiness. She wanted a night where she could silence the screams of bad memories and assuage the guilt of future sins she knew would be committed in her husband’s name. She needed to distance herself from Tommy. The small balcony was stifling and she couldn’t bare the sight of him. 

His entitlement and vindictively withholding nature had taken its toll. She found him repugnant. His stare was vacant, still reeling from the bombshell she had dropped moments before. With an exasperated sigh, [Y/N] opened the glass French doors into their home. She felt compelled to flee; disgusted by the people she called her family. She wanted out. She found an opened bottle of gin and took it under her arm as an old friend. She kicked off her imported Italian heels, no longer taken with their beauty and relieved to be free of their bite. As they clamored against the parquet floor, she made her way to the stables. [Y/N] was comfortable disappearing into the night. She had enough of fighting. She was tired of trying and found relief in her loneliness. Even as the guest of honor, she wasn’t really missed. No one had noticed she wasn’t there, save Tommy. She was certain that if her disappearance were prolonged indefinitely, no one would care, not even him. She figured that he saw her as a thing to be possessed. An object subject to his avarice and sexual wants, and like all objects she was replaceable. She was almost certain he was incapable of love; just greed and consumption. He was a pit; an empty abyss that took and took and took. And in turn, she gave and gave and gave, but she had nothing left to give. Her trust was spent, her patience gone, and her forgiveness bone bare. She was worn out. However, in spite of his all-consuming nature, she couldn’t quash her love for him. She couldn’t erase the years of friendship and otherworldly bond that she felt connected the two of them. She couldn’t stymie the way he made her feel. He kissed like the autumn wind and smiled the way toffee apples tasted.  But recently, that shine and sweetness had faded.   

The piney taste of gin bit at her throat and kissed a deeper flush into her chest and ears. She knew that she could find camaraderie and solace in the eyes of the horses. The stables smelled of shit and fresh hay but made her feel at peace all the same. It was comforting and familiar. There was something lovingly nostalgic about the scent. She tried to push the thought of Thomas from her mind. She found her way to the furthest stall to the left. Leaning against a thick wood post, [Y/N] stared at her favorite horse. She was a beautiful mahogany bay; a Chickasaw pony. Fast and wily by nature, [Y/N] saw the horse as a kindred spirit. She ran her fingers through the horse’s tousled mane, pressing her forehead against the mare’s. Time passed. [Y/N] drank more gin. Tears stung the corners of her eyes, a fresh batch rolling down her cheeks. She nervously bit and picked at a hangnail that her manicurist had neglected earlier in the week. Her mind wandered, fixating on anxious whimsy. The night slogged on. [Y/N] smoked a tin full of cigarettes. She drank more gin. An eternity was resting in this single night. She sighed. As [Y/N] fell ever deeper into a chasm of self-pity, she felt an unspoken conversation unfold between her and the cosmos. She drank more gin. 

The bottle was three-quarters spent. Car engines roared in the distance and the faint hum of music had died down ages ago. The party, her party, was over. [Y/N] was emotionally raw and tired. The hay poked through her silk stockings and itched. The horses slept, unbothered by her presence. She was cold and sore. Alone. She wanted to be in bed. She wanted to be warm and bundled in their soft sheets, held tightly by the man she loved. Regret was gnawing at her stomach. She knew her outburst was rash and juvenile, but her pain was sincere. [Y/N] still held firm in her belief that she was entitled to business dealings as an equal partner. Moreover, she needed trust from Tommy, especially as his wife. With time and gin, [Y/N] found a sense of clarity. She knew that Tommy wasn’t cheating, but it didn’t erase the fact that he was keeping things from her. In a moment of weakness and self-loathing, she lashed out. She felt that faith in each other was foundational to their relationship, and if he didn’t trust her with the business, he didn’t trust her as his wife. The thought cut.

She stumbled, slowly gaining her bearings as she rose from the hay. She made her way clumsily from the stables to the grounds. The grass was plush and cool under her stocking feet. Slipping in through the service entrance, she tried unsuccessfully to go unnoticed. Within seconds she was spotted by a rosy-faced Arthur, eyebrows knitted in obvious concern. 

“Where in the hell have you been? Tommy’s got the lot of us out looking for you! He’s worried.” His tone was angry but laced with genuine concern. It was reminiscent of a scolding father or doting older brother. 

“Well congratulations, lucky contestant, you’re the fucking winner of the night!” Her sarcasm was biting, but involuntary in her drunken stupor. 

“You know how he is.”

“No, not anymore. He’s changed. Keeps things.”

“Well, not everything’s his to give.” She looked up at the eldest of the Shelby brothers, with surprise. She wasn’t used to Arthur being a voice of reason or wisdom. “He carries the world for us. Makes him sore. Makes him mean. But it’s for us. Some secrets aren’t his to tell. Some business isn’t right for others to know about. Let us carry this burden. It isn’t for you to know.” He lifted his cap, running his fingers through his slicked back hair.

“Wait a tick, so you fucking know? Christ’s sake! Fucking Arthur!”

“What’s that ‘sposed to mean? I’m his fucking brother! You’re not even blood! Blood’s thicker than water, eh!”

“I’m his wife. I’ve sacrificed more than you can ever know for him and for this business. Hell, if it’s blood you want, I’ve spilled more than my share for this family.” Her voice was chilling and flat, resolute in its violence. Arthur felt a strange kinship in their mutual shame. 

“Then you already know that you’re in too deep. Those were choices you made. You make peace with that. That’s not on us.”

“Jesus, nothing ever is, is it? Not a single person in this family understands culpability. You all just fucking point the finger like a load of nine-year-olds. I take full responsibility for the evil that I’ve done. I just want you to acknowledge that I did those things for this family as a member of this family, regardless of blood. If I can be an adult so can all of you. Own up to your goddamn sins. That’s all I want.”

“If it’s a confession you want, Thomas is not the one to give it. Bullheaded, that one.”

“Which one of you isn’t?” He snorted through his cigar, the pulp and paper singeing.

“Finn?”

“Give him time.” She took a deep swig from the gin.

“Look, you’d better come with me. He wants to see you and the sooner the better. I don’t want him losing it.”

“Did you just try to tell me what to do in my own home? The fucking nerve. I’m not following you. I’m going to bed. Fuck Tommy. Fuck the business. Fuck this family and frankly, Arthur, fuck you too for good measure.” [Y/N] was feeling quite smug and proud of her rebellious diatribe. However, her small victory was short lived. She had no sooner finished her rant then she promptly vomited.

“Right, let’s get you to bed.”

“That was awful, I’m so sorry… I-”

“Let’s just let one of the maids worry about it. That’s what there here for. Right, up we get,” Arthur looped her arm over his shoulders, serving as a walking crutch. They made their way up the service staircase and into her bedroom. Arthur left her to her own devices, making his way to meet Tommy in the mahogany-encased office.

Arthur entered the study with apprehension. He didn’t want Tommy to be cross but knew he was likely to lash out after being snubbed by the woman he loved. Thomas was pensively staring off into space, absentmindedly swirling whiskey in its tumbler. 

“She’s up in your room. Been nursing a bottle of gin for a better part of the night. She’s pretty out of it.”

“Is she alright?” Thomas tried in vain to mask the pained waver in his voice.

“She’s just drunk. Let her sleep it off, Tom. You know how women are, jealous. Everything will be right in the morning.” Tommy downed the rest of the whiskey and shook his head. 

“No, I don’t think it will. I need to set things right.” He made his way up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time and lighting a cigarette with ease. He opened the door expecting her to be asleep in bed and was confused to find the room empty. He was gripped with the fear that she had left again, but was quickly reassured by the sound of the faucet in the en suite. 

“We need to talk. I’m sorry.” He barely whispered. She wiped a cool wet washcloth across her face in an attempt to center herself in the spinning room.

“If you were sorry, you’d be honest.” He shook his head, tendrils of smoke framing his face. He ran his free hand against his forehead in annoyance.

“I never lied.”

“You don’t have to lie to be dishonest.” The words hung in her throat, bile clinging to each consonant.

“Why do you get to make the rules? So fucking high and mighty. You’re entitled, and expect me to deliver the world. The world isn’t yours for the taking.” He sneered, rolling the smoke between his lips.

“I make the rules for myself. The rules stipulate if I leave or stay. If you can’t be honest with me, I leave. You owe me that.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing!” he hissed at her condescension. 

“Fine, then I’ll be gone in the morning. I can’t keep fighting you, Thomas. I’m tired. I’ve been patient for as long as I can but I’m bushed… I just can’t.” She frowned, her regret plain as day. Tommy fought the fresh burn of tears. “You have a choice, Tommy. Regardless, know that I love you, always.” She draped the wet towel on the sink with a sense of finality. Her bare feet padded across the cool tile toward the door. 

“It’s the Russians,” he blurted, stopping her mid-step before she could cross both the literal and metaphorical threshold. 

“We’ll I could fucking tell that.” She turned to meet his face. He huffed out spires of smoke, irritated with her impatience. 

“We have a deal. One of the stipulations of that deal is a need-to-know standing. As in, only people they deem fit get to know. That wasn’t my call.”

“They’re okay with fucking Arthur? Seriously?”

“This is heavy shit. It isn’t safe to involve you. I want you to stick to legitimate business from here on in. You can’t handle this.”

“Oh, and our other ventures have been strictly upstanding?”

“It’s war business.” His voice was hushed, shrouded with shame.

“What are you on about?”

“I mean guns and tanks and outfitting soldiers for a revolution.”

“Christ Thomas.” She clasped her hands to her mouth. “I thought you promised. No, I know that you promised. We were leaving the war in the mud. You can play gangster as long as you tell the government to right fuck off, but you’ve brought the bloody front to our home. You’re a fucking cog in the military machine.”

“It isn’t like that. I -”

“No, it fucking is. You swore to me that when you threw your medals into the cut it was to spite the notion of the whole useless war, to say ‘fuck you’ to the king.”

“This wasn’t my choice.”

“What the hell does that mean? There’s always a choice. You have agency!”

“When the Home Office comes knocking, you can’t say no. They would have hurt us, hurt the family. I’d rather have a war going on over there, than have some state-led vendetta against us here. We can’t run away from them.” She fell silent, struggling in her gin drowned lethargy to understand.

“So you’re helping the Whites in Georgia?”

“Yes, although I’m not actually at liberty to say.” She smirked at his playful tone, in spite of herself.

“That doesn’t mean that I forgive you.”

“Christ, what is there to forgive? I’m not sleeping with the Russian. It’s part of the plan I just told you about, and you know I’ve been shanghaied into doing it. What possibly could I need to apologize for?”

“Well for one, you’ve been dishonest. Secondly, you haven’t thought of a plan out of this mess with the Russians. Thirdly, I’m the best fucking thing to ever happen to you Thomas Shelby, and I think you’ve forgotten that because you haven’t been treating me right.” He smirked at the slight slur in her words and deep flush in her cheeks. She was strong and defiant even as a drunken idiot and he found it earnestly endearing. 

“You’re right, Mrs. Shelby. I’m very sorry.” He walked toward her, his oxfords making a rounded clack against the bathroom tile. He cupped her cheek, and drew in close, hovering at her lips and waiting for approval. She stood, lifting up on her bare tiptoes, kissing him with an omnipotent intimacy. “If you still want a divorce, I’ll respect that, but I quite love you as Mrs. Shelby.”

“I love being Mrs. Shelby too, just promise me, Thomas, that you won’t shut me out again.”

“Of course. After all, we’re partners.”