#((as they come to embrace their daughter's family and her subsequent happiness!))

[theheadlessgroom]

@beatingheart-bride

A slew of toasts followed Mr. Gracey's, some from other members of families in the upper echelons of New Orleans high society who knew the Gracey and de Clair families, others from old schoolmates of Dorian who, despite having not talked to him in years, had still turned up to the party to celebrate his impending wedding, less to celebrate an old friend's happiness (they were less friends and more acquaintances at the end of the day) and more to enjoy the copious amounts of food and drink and rub elbows with other like-minded folks, those with as big of bank accounts as them.

It was then, after a string of these, that Randall built up the nerve (and all without any "liquid courage") to get to his feet, lifting his glass of apple cider as a hush fell over the room, all eyes on him as he began, in a quivering voice:

"I-I just want to say," he said, squeezing his glass a little as he swallowed back the dryness, determined to get through this speech. "How...very, very happy I am, for my oldest and dearest friend. Tomorrow is...a huge day in any man's life, it's...the start of a new life for him. It's...exciting, it's...terrifying. But...it's most of all, it's...wonderful. And I...I couldn't be happier for him, and his bride."

Shyly, he lifted his glass with a little grin (knowing in his heart that this speech was just as much for him as it was for Dorian) as he declared, "To new beginnings!"

There was a little murmur of "to new beginnings!" as well as everyone took their drink, and Randall slumped back down in his seat, heart pounding as Dorian clapped him on the shoulder, saying warmly, "That, my friend, was the best speech of the whole night."

[happilyhertale]

Long Last Love - Aemond Targaryen x female!reader, Part 5

Summary: You are finally engaged to Aemond Targaryen. As the daughter of Daemon and Rhaenyra, you will now live in King's Landing and no longer on Dragonstone. Your marriage to Aemond is imminent, as is your life together. The relationship between Aemond and your family has never been particularly easy, but the future will show whether your love will withstand this and subsequent tensions.

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x fem!reader

Warnings: In some parts Smut (uncle/niece) as well as violence

Author’s note: Hey you (:

This is the follow-up story to "Long Lost Love".

The story starts just before the wedding of Aemond and y/n and goes over the events of the first season hotd. However, the events are not quite similar to those in the series. English is my second language, please forgive me if I made any mistakes (:

Word count: 4k

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Today is the day you will see your family again, whom you have not seen since your marriage to Aemond. You stand excitedly in the courtyard and look up at the sky. Your hands wander gently over your huge belly, your baby is kicking incessantly today. By now you are sure that it is not a baby, but a dragon growing inside you. You feel constant kicks, which are now so strong that your lower back hurts. To ease the pain a little, you let one hand wander to your back and try to apply some pressure, exhaling heavily. When you see carriages approaching the Red Keep. You begin to smile and slowly you walk down the stairs. Now you are standing in the courtyard, at the bottom of the stairs.

Slowly the carriages drive into the courtyard and you can't stop grinning, you are too happy to see your family. The carriages come to a halt and a servant who was waiting for the carriage to arrive announces your family, "Princess Rhaenyra, of House Targaryen, heir to the Iron Throne. And her Prince Consort, Daemon Targaryen, of House Targaryen."

You step forward as you see your mother step out of the carriage. Her eyes meet yours and she starts to smile, "My girl!"

She comes up to you and hugs you. Despite your big belly, you notice that your mother also has a small bulge under her dress. She is also pregnant. "Mother! You are pregnant!", you happily state.

She squeezes you tighter, "Yes, but only a few moons have passed since then. You will bring a new life into this world much sooner," she breaks away from the embrace and gently caresses your belly.

"And I am so happy for you!", she hugs you again.

You have to laugh slightly, "I'm happy too! But you never told me how exhausting pregnancy is"

"Well, I didn't want to scare you off before," she says with a smile.

Your father steps towards you, a slight smile on his lips. A "Daddy!" leaves your lips as he wraps you in his arms. He gently kisses the top of your head, "According to your stomach, I'd say Aemond touched you?"

"Dad!" you hit him. He laughs lightly. Your mother just shakes her head and has to suppress a smile.

You turn your head towards your mother, still in your father's arms, as you hear her speak, "Where's Aemond...? Are you the only one to greet us?"

"Aemond is, of course, on the training yard. And there is a council meeting going on right now. So yes, you will have to make do with me for the moment," you say with a slight smile.

She strokes your arm, "Is everything all right with you and Aemond...?"

"Yes, Mother. It couldn't be better... Except that I would feel better if the sweet little thing would finally leave me," gently you caress your belly.

"You won't say that again when you're in labour and the little thing is pushing out of you," you hear your father say.

"Don't scare her unnecessarily," your mother admonishes him.

"I'm just saying," you hear your father mutter.

You hear another carriage arrive and as you look up you see the carriage come to a stop and your brothers get out of the carriage. You walk up to them and grin. Jace grins at you and opens his arms, "Y/n, Looking at your belly, you seem to get too much food here!"

You hug him, "Shut up Jace."

He chuckles.

Luke steps towards you, he looks worried. You caress his cheek and hug him lightly, "Hey Luke. It'll be alright, we'll show Vaemond who owns Driftmark, okay?"

He tries to smile and nods, you hug him tighter.

Your brothers leave for the training yard shortly afterwards and you go with your parents to their chambers. You chat briefly as you head to your own chambers and your parents go to find Alicent.

When you finally reach your chambers, you exhale heavily. Slowly you cross your chambers and carefully sit down on the sofa in your chambers, wanting to close your eyes for a moment. Your lower back hurts. So you lie down and put a small pillow under your back. Your eyes are still closed and you try to find relief by breathing in and out slowly and deeply.

Slowly, your body relaxes a little, as the door to your chambers opens, but you do not open your eyes, perhaps the troublemaker will leave your chambers if he thinks you are asleep. But the wishful thinking does not come true. "Are you that unwell?" you hear Aemond whisper.

You open your eyes and nod, "I want him to come out soon".

He smiles slightly at you, "I'm sure she'll be on her way soon.... Unless she doesn't want to leave her mother's warm womb"

You sigh, "I don't want to advise him to do that"

He comes over to the sofa and you look at each other for a moment. You don't show any signs of wanting to move, you just want to rest for a moment. Slowly he lifts your feet up and sits on the sofa, your feet resting on his lap. Carefully he takes off your shoes and begins to gently massage your feet.

You just watch him as he takes care of you and tries to relieve some discomfort with his fingers. You let your head fall back and enjoy his touch. Your eyes close again. "I have already met your brothers," you hear him whisper.

You open your eyes and lift your head. Aemond meets a warning glance, "What did you do?"

He smiles and looks at you, "Nothing. Lord Vaemond intervened. I was just about to invite them for a little training session."

You just keep looking at him, "My Love.... I didn't do anything. I told you I would behave myself."

Now you smile a little, "But still, I know you and I know how it gets to you sometimes."

He props himself up against the sofa and leans over you. Gently he kisses your lips. As he begins to deepen the kiss and gently caresses your belly.

"I will have to kill you if you ever get me pregnant again. So hands off.", you murmur against his lips.

He chuckles and kisses your nose.

He lets himself fall backwards again. In a mixture of stroking and massaging, he lets his fingers wander over your calves.

"Do you feel well enough to go to the throne room?"

You look at him almost indignantly, "Of course. I'm not going to leave my brother standing there alone after all."

"He won't be there alone," Aemond sighs.

"But I don't want him to see only faces that are not exactly friendly towards him on the opposite side. At least his sister should stand there and encourage him."

He just looks at you, "Very well then. But allow me that if I notice you are getting worse, to escort you to our chambers"

You give him an annoyed look. You know that he only cares about you and you prefer that to him being a man who does not care about you at all... But still it annoys you.

On your way to the throne room, you cling to Aemond's arm. You don't want to admit it, but your back really hurts. Aemond looks at you worriedly as you exhale intermittently, but you keep walking.

You enter the throne room, your family already standing to your right, their eyes wandering to you as you enter. You smile at each other, but you see your mother looking at you anxiously, your arm rests firmly in Aemond's arm.

Before you pass your family, you will pass your half-sisters Baela and Rhaena, who are on the left with Princess Rhaenys. You smile at each other. You haven't seen them for what feels like an eternity. They had come to your wedding, but you had no real opportunity to talk to each other properly.

Vaemond Velaryon is also standing there, but you look away when your eyes meet. You have no sympathy for him whatsoever. You think it impertinent that he should take advantage of your grandsire's weak moment, as well as the uncertainty as to whether Lord Corlys will survive his recent injuries, and attempt to steal Driftmark. Driftmark belongs to your brother, to your family.

Aemond leads you on to Alicent, Aegon and Helaena.

Alicent also looks at you, smiling but worried. You smile at her. Aemond stands with you behind the others, his arm firmly around your waist.

You see Otto Hightower enter the throne room. You have nothing personal against him, but somehow you don't trust him. He now stands in front of the throne and begins to give a speech. You don't like the sight of him standing in front of the throne, and you can see from the look on your father's face that he doesn't like it either.

You only pay attention to Otto's speech when you hear the words Driftmark. Because your grandsire is not in a position to deal with this matter, Otto feels it is his responsibility to do so.

Otto settles down on the throne, your expression darkening. As your gaze returns to your family, you see your mother smile at you. You return the smile and nod to her. Then you notice Aemond kissing your cheek, he has also noticed how your mood has changed because of Otto.

You smile briefly at him as you hear Otto, "The crown will now hear the petitions. Ser Vaemond of House Velaryon."

Lord Vaemond steps forward and lets his gaze roam to your brother Luke. Your hand clenches into a fist. You would like to stand protectively in front of your little brother and spit at Vaemond's feet. But probably Aemond's patience with you would then really be at an end.

Vaemond steps forward and stands just in front of the throne. You see that your father is watching him closely and you know the expression on his face. His patience seems to be on the verge of breaking.

Vaemond addresses his speech directly to Alicent, "My Queen." and then turns directly to Otto, "My Lord Hand."

God how you loathe Vaemond.

"The history of our noble houses extends beyond the Seven Kingdoms to the day of Old Valyra."

You snort softly. Aemond immediately gives you a look followed by a light chuckle.

"For as long as House Targaryen has ruled the skies, House Velaryon has ruled the seas. When the Doom fell on Valyria, our houses became the last of their kind. Our forebearers came to this new land, knowing that were they to fail, it would mean the end to their bloodlines and their name."

You notice your father giving your mother a look and she nods, barely perceptible. This makes you kind of nervous. But you turn your gaze back to Vaemond.

"I have spent my entire life on Driftmark defending my brother's seat. I am Lord Corlys's closest kin, his own blood."

Angrily, you shake your head slightly. Aemond tightens his grip around your waist.

"The true, unimpeachable blood of House Velaryon runs through my veins."

Suddenly your mother speaks, "As it does in my sons, the offspring of Laenor Velaryon. If you cared so much about your house's blood, Ser Vaemond, you would not be so bold as to supplant its rightful heir. No, you only speak for yourself and for your own ambition."

As Alicent suddenly interjects, you look over at her, "You will have chance to make your own petition, Princess Rhaenyra. Do Ser Vaemond the courtesy of allowing his to be heard." Lord Vaemond turns to your mother, grinning. She looks angry.

You look just as angry at Aemond, but he only shakes his head slightly. Again you snort.

Now Vaemond speaks directly to your mother, "What do you know of Velaryon blood, Princess?"

But she does not dignify him with a glance.

"I could cut my veins and show it to you and you still wouldn't recognise it. This is about the future and survival of my house, not yours."

He turns back in your direction, "My Queen, my Lord Hand. This is a matter of blood, not ambition."

When you notice your brothers giving Aemond looks and as you look at Aemond, you see him grinning wickedly. He lightly yet firmly gets your elbow in the side. His eyes fall on you and you shake your head in warning.

"I place the continuation of the survival of my house and my line above all. I humbly put myself before you as my brother's successor.... the Lord of Driftmark and Lord of the Tides."

"Thank you Ser Vaemond," chimes in Otto Hightower.

Vaemond casts another appraising glance over his shoulder in your mother's direction and again you notice Aemond's grip tighten around you.

Your mother nods, barely perceptibly, as Otto asks her to speak for your brother Luke now.

She steps forward, exhaling in annoyance for a moment. Before her gaze turns to Otto, she looks over at you again briefly.

"If I am to grace this farce, with some answer, I will start by reminding the court that nearly 20 years ago, in this very..."

Everything stops.

The heavy door to the throne room opens and all eyes turn to the door to see who is interrupting. As the guard announces your grandsire, "King Viserys of House Targaryen, the 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."

All is silent and everyone looks towards the door, startled. You reach for Amond's hand, he holds it tightly. Your grandsire stands in the doorway, visibly straining. A walking stick supports him and with great effort he strides forward. He walks very slowly and it seems as if every heavy breath of his can be heard. No one dares to speak a word. Otto rises from his throne and as he comes down to you, you notice him and Lord Vaemond exchanging startled glances. But startled in a different way to the rest of those present.

As your grandsire steps closer to you, you see him stop, he gives your mother a long look. Your father stands in the background, but his gaze is full of concern and lowered.

He strides on, groaning again and again with exertion. But when, after an interminable time, he arrives at the steps of the throne, he looks at Otto, "I will sit the throne today," you almost hear him whisper. Otto replies with a, "Your Grace".

At the steps he comes to a stop, it seems too tiring for him, you look helplessly at Aemond. You see concern on his face too, but he continues to hold you.

A guard approaches your grandsire and wants to help him, but he only replies, "I will be fine. I will be fine."

When he has made it up a few steps, his crown falls down. You bury your face in the crook of Aemond's neck, he holds you in his arms. You hate to see him suffer like this. As you look back towards the throne, you see your father standing at your grandsire's side.

But he doesn't seem to have noticed who is standing there at first, as he says, "I said I'm fine".

But when he looks up, he sees your father, his brother. Your father must be encouraging him to go on, or at least you think he is, because your grandsire gives him a barely perceptible nod and continues walking. Your father carries his crown and helps him up the stairs.

When your grandsire finally makes it to the throne, your father stands before him. They look at each other briefly as your father slowly puts the crown back on his head.

Your father descends the steps, your eyes meet, you see the worry in his gaze.

He stands by your family's side again. Your mother also stands by Luke's side again.

Your grandsire exhales heavily a few times and groans briefly every now and then. Everyone is waiting for him to say something.

"I must... admit... my confusion. I do not understand why petitions are being heard over a settled succession. The only present... who might offer keener insight into Lord Corlys's wishes is Princess Rhaenys", each word coming out with great difficulty.

All eyes now turn to Princess Rhaenys.

"Indeed, your Grace," her soft voice rings out.

Again you notice Vaemon's uncomfortable glances, but this time they follow Princess Rhaenys.

She steps forward until she is standing before your grandsire, "It was my husband's will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son.... Lucerys Velaryon. His mind never changed. Nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, the Princess Rhaenyra has just informed me of her desire to marry her sons Jace and Luke to Lord Corlys's granddaughters, Baela and Rhaena. A proposal to which I heartily agree."

You look joyfully at your brothers and they nod at you. But not everyone seems so pleased. Vaemond and Otto look visibly irritated. You turn to Aemond, but he only raises his eyebrow and snorts slightly. Again he has your elbow lightly in his side.

As you hear your grandsire speak again, "Well.... the matter is settled. Again. I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark..."

Once again you notice your parents exchanging glances. "... the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides."

Your mother looks visibly relieved. As Vaemond suddenly steps forward, "You break law.... and centuries of tradition to install your daughter as heir. Yet you dare tell me... who deserve to inherit the name Velaryon."

You stiffen, feeling uneasy. Aemond looks at you briefly, but immediately looks back at Vaemond.

"No. I will not allow it."

Your father, on the other hand, looks almost amused. When your grandsire speaks up again, "Allow it? Do not forget yourself, Vaemond."

Suddenly Vaemond shouts out, "That is no true Velaryon!". He points his finger at Luke.

Aemond takes a barely perceptible step forward and his arm is now protectively across your belly.

"And certainly no nephew of mine," Vaemond turns back to your grandsire.

You hear your mother instruct your brothers to go to their chambers before addressing Vaemond, "You have said enough."

"Lucerys is my true-born grandson. And you..." your grandsire suddenly chimes in.

"... are no more than the second son of Driftmark."

Vaemond looks up at your grandsire angrily, "You... may run your house as you see fit... but you will not decide the future of mine."

You look at Aemond worriedly and take hold of his arm, which still lies protectively in front of your belly. He, however, only looks at Vaemond. You take another step forward and stand next to Aemond again.

"My house survived the Doom, and a thousand tribulations besides! And gods be damned...", Vaemond turns back in Luke's direction, still standing at your mother's side.

"... I will not see it ended on the account of this...", a pause filled with silence follows. Your hand seeks Aemonds and he holds it tightly. When your father dryly calls on Vaemond, "Say it."

And you can tell by his tone that he is not in a joking mood. Silence follows again, only your grandsire's heavy breathing can be heard.

Vaemond turns directly to your father, "Her children... are bastards!!!"

Your eyes grow wide and at that moment Vaemond turns in your direction, pointing his finger at you, Aemond immediately places himself a little in front of you and at the same time pushes you gently but firmly half behind him. His other hand rests on the pommel of his sword.

"But you are the greatest mockery! White hair, purple eyes! Because your mother committed adultery! Slept with her uncle! And you are also legitimised to call yourself a Targaryen! But you are also nothing but a bastard. All because the King can't control anything and your mother is a whore!!!"

You are seized with rage, you take a step forward, but Aemond pushes you back, wanting to step forward himself, his sword already half drawn.

As your grandsire stands up heavily and intervenes, "I... will have your tongue for that!"

Until suddenly a sword is brandished.

With one blow Vaemon's head is severed. His body falls to the floor, half his skull falls to the ground next to it. Screams echo through the hall. Your father stands behind Vaemond and leans on his sword.

Aemond now stands completely in front of you, protecting you, and you reach for his arm. You tremble a little.

"He can keep his tongue," your father says dryly. As Otto suddenly shouts, "Disarm him!"

But your father emotionlessly wipes his sword on his cloak, "No need."

Suddenly there are groans from your grandsire again, everyone looks up at him. He falls back on his throne and Alicent, who was at Helaena's side, runs up to him, "Call the maesters!"

Your mother goes up to him as well, "Father?"

"Please my Love, you must take something for the pain." begs Alicent as he falls weakened against her. But your grandsire is stubborn, "I will not cloud my mind, I must put things right."

A guard supports him and escorts him out of the throne room. A maester joins and supports the guard.

Alicent addresses you, "Please... go to your chambers.... I will see you tonight"

You cannot really respond, but Aemond puts his arm around you and leads you out of the throne room.

He leads you on, up to your chambers, you can't tell if Aemond talked to you on the way, you are paralysed. But Aemond is preoccupied with his own thoughts. He is relieved that Daemon has intervened. He is not sure how far he could have held you back. Nor would he have liked to leave your side. But he would have protected you at all costs, he would have struck Vaemond down in the throne room.

When you arrive in your chambers, Aemond turns you to him, holding your face gently in his hands, "Are you all right?"

You nod.

"Please don't take anything he said to heart. Promise me?"

You smile slightly. He first gently brushes his nose against yours and then kisses you. He breaks the kiss and lets his forehead lean against yours, "If Daemon hadn't done it, I would have killed him."

You are still smiling. You are shocked at what has just happened. First you were called a bastard, then Vaemond was beheaded, a bit much for one evening. Just as you are about to say something, you feel a sharp sting. You gasp and grab your stomach.

Aemond looks at you in panic, "What's wrong?"

You breathe heavily, "He's very active and.... just kicking..."

Aemond leads you to the sofa and helps you to sit down slowly.

"He, mmhm?"

You smile as Aemond walks into the adjoining bathroom. After a short while, he returns, holding a bottle. You have to chuckle for a moment. When the slightest bulge was visible on your belly, Aemond set off for the maesters. He has commissioned an oil that is supposed to be good for your skin. And since then he has been massaging it into your belly regularly. He kneels down in front of you and carefully opens your dress. He pushes your vest back over your belly. He pours a small amount of oil on his palms, briefly rubs his palms together and then begins to massage your belly.

"So a boy?"

You chuckle and nod, "I'm telling you, he's wild. That's not a girl."

He clicks his tongue, "Well, like I told you, our girl just has the temperament of a dragon."

Now you have to laugh. He smiles and continues to gently massage your belly.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Tag list

@leahjean  @afro-hispwriter  @jeyramarie  @powellssaturn @notabotiswear @hoshi-miharu-blog @random-human02 @m00n5t0n3 @sporadicshepherdzinebear @drewsgfduh @stargaryenx @dark-night-sky-99 @notabotiswear @ccosmic-illusion @darylandbethfanforever9 @grungegrrrl @spn-obession @carlottalhn @elle4404 @girl-with-an-orange-cat @genshinimpactislife @imjustboredso @tragicbucky @dollfaceyourfear @magnificantmermaid @mllemarianne @stargaryenx @mikariell95 @khaothick @aemonds-wifey @burningshewolf @munsonswrld @jackierose902109 @scaraxmouche @bucky-thorin-winchester @alexandra-001 @yentroucnagol @cicaspair418 @tropicprincess08

[mediumsizedpidegon]

when it comes to my Bleach/Silmarillion crossover where Maeglin dies, loses his memories and falls into Hueco Mundo (subsequently becoming a hollow)– one of the fun things to come up with is what the FUCK is going on in Arda while Maeglin is gone.

Of course, the second age and third age go as planned, the lord of the rings happens unchanged, because Middle Earth is divorced from the dead. Elves reembody into Aman, not Middle Earth and so no one in ME has any idea that Maeglin is lost to Arda (nor would this fact really change,,, any events).

But in Aman? Tolkien doesn't really talk about what's going on in Aman. In that way it's sort of a blank slate because– are the Feanorian followers allowed to leave the Halls and if they are, how are they settling into society? Who are they giving their loyalty to? Has the system of government changed over the years? What are Teleri-Noldo relations like, several Ages after the First Kinslaying? What is the balance of authority and power like with so many kings, queens and lords stuffed into one land? Who has reembodied and who refuses? How does the absence of well known figures (Finwë, Míriel, Fëanáro and his sons, Celebrimbor, Maeglin, entire generations preceding Finwë) shape politics and healing? Who forgives, who tries to forget, and who holds onto their grudges?

I imagine that at first, no one is looking for Maeglin. Why would they? He just betrayed Gondolin and caused the deaths of a good chunk of people. Those newly-dead aren't going to want to even look at him. Those that survived and sail to Valinor (like Idril) are glad to not see him among the reembodied. They aren't going to look a gift-horse in the mouth and ask questions.

The only ones who would want Maeglin back are his parents.

On the topic of Eöl, I personally find it more interesting if he wasn't evil and his and Aredhel's relationship was happy and healthy for a time. The progression of a paranoid, traumatized parent and husband trying his best to what Eöl ended up doing just. makes a bit more sense to me, especially because I keep the bit of canon where elves can't have kids accidentally. I imagine Eöl passes through the Halls in a matter of decades instead of centuries, not because he is fast to heal, but because being in the domain and under the mercy of a Vala is doing the opposite of helping him. And since he's out before Gondolin falls and lives in solitude, he even doesn't know that Maeglin has died until Aredhel reembodies and personally hunts him down to interrogate him on whether his curse (his prophecy) consigned their son to fading.

It didn't. (With where their son is now, it might have been kinder if it had.)

On Aredhel's end: she searched for her son for years within the Halls before Námo came to her, troubled, and told her that Maeglin is not in his Halls, nor reembodied in Aman, nor wandering Middle Earth– that by all accounts, Maeglin is not in Arda at all. So her son is gone, and her brother is too upset to see it, and Gondolin's people hate him enough that they would celebrate this, and when Aredhel reembodies, her niece tells her she is glad that Aredhel is freed from being bound to evil (her husband) and having borne evil (her son). Her mother embraces her but cannot forgive her for leaving her, her father sees the daughter she was and not the daughter she is, and her other brothers think she grieves having been controlled and misled. No one in her family knows her son and husband as anything but a traitor and her killer– no one in her family knows her as she is now, the Aredhel who left Gondolin and courted a elf who carried grief entangled in his every step in the dark, beautiful forest he claimed as a home. Who lived there of her own free will and had a son of her own free will, and loved them, for all that it ended horribly.

Aredhel has been mistranslated her entire life. She has borne it with what little forgiveness she has. She finds, now, she can bear it no longer.

As time goes on, some members of the family that never met him nearly forget Maeglin ever existed. Reembodied elves of Gondolin write histories of their city and Aredhel stops visiting Tirion entirely for all the stares she receives. There is still no understanding of Aredhel among the Nolofinwions for all their love and she tires of it quicker and quicker. She ends up repairing and renewing her marriage to Eöl (there is much Aredhel can forgive for understanding) and it is not the same as before everything fell apart, but it is theirs.

Maeglin will be gone six Ages before his parents succeed in calling him home. He'll be different too, older, sharper, traumatized, his body strange, but still their child.

[listening-to-free-audiobooks]

Flame and Ember, The Kingsleys Book 1

by M.A. Nichols

Simon believes love is no longer an option for him and decides to enter a marriage of convenience with Mina — but she secretly hopes romance can blossom between them. The first in a sweet Regency series!

***

A heartbroken man, a frustrated spinster, and a marriage of convenience that proves quite inconvenient.

Simon Kingsley is in desperate need of a wife. After years of searching, he finally found love. Unfortunately, she wed another, and now, it’s time to settle for someone with whom he can share his life. Love is no longer an option for a man whose heart is irrevocably broken.

Mina Ashbrook longs to marry for love but knows she’s too old, too plump, and too plain to catch a gentleman’s eye. And a marriage of convenience is better than being a spinster sister living off her brother’s charity. Simon may not love her now, but Mina knows there’s hope—if she can convince him that love comes in many forms.

Will Mina find a way to heal Simon’s heart? Or will the shadows of the past keep them from finding happiness together?

Hearts Entwined, The Kingsleys Book 2

by M.A. Nichols

Victoria and Oliver are on the brink of engagement. Their parents are thrilled with the arrangement, but when the couple are thrown together in a month-long house party with former sweethearts, they must decide whether to follow their hearts or follow their families’ desires.

A gentleman and lady on the brink of matrimony…

Victoria loves Elijah.

Oliver loves Sophie.

Romance ought to be that simple. But with no dowry, Victoria cannot marry a pauper. Nor can Oliver wed the daughter of the woman who nearly ruined his parents’ life thirty years ago. Surely, a marriage based on mutual affection and friendship is enough.

Isn’t it?

But when all four are thrown together during a house party, Victoria and Oliver must decide between the duty to their families and following their own desires.

Whose heart must be broken?

A Stolen Kiss, The Kingsleys Book 3 

by M.A. Nichols

Before she accepts her fate as a spinster, Lily wants to experience a kiss firsthand. But in a darkened library, she accidentally kisses the wrong man — and is caught by the local gossips! With an engagement as the only solution, can Lily find happiness with her unintended fiancé?

A mistaken kiss. A forced engagement. Can it become something more?

Lily Kingsley is destined for spinsterhood, but she refuses to accept that fate without receiving her first kiss. Luckily, she knows the perfect gentleman to enlist. Unluckily, she mistakes him for another and ends up in the arms of an overbearing and exceptionally frustrating merchant. And her troubles compound when busybodies catch them in their illicit embrace.

An engagement is the only solution, but Lily doesn’t want a fiancé who’s only doing his duty. Especially one who manipulates her into accepting it for the time being. Somehow she must make him see how ill-suited they are.

But why is the fellow so determined to see their engagement through?

Jack Hatcher hates surprises, but when a beguiling lady mistakes him for someone else and launches herself into his arms, he discovers not all surprises are bad. Marriage was not in Jack’s plans, but Lily stirs something inside him he never expected to feel.

But with his fiancé desperate to break with him and a new enemy wooing Lily away, Jack discovers that force of will won’t keep her by his side. Can he find a way to win her heart before it’s lost forever?

***

All of M.A. Nichols’ romances take place in the Generations of Love universe. Each book is a standalone story and can be read in any order with the titles being grouped together into family sagas. The first in this series features the parents with the subsequent books following the next generations as their children find love of their own.

To see the family tree & timeline, visit https://www.ma-nichols.com/generation...

New books will be posted regularly. Click subscribe to be notified when the latest audiobooks are uploaded.

[hobbitsnapes]

the elf in the café chapter 9

The ending to A corpse husband story

(Photo credits goes to vallact)

Summary: Never in his life, did he think going to a cafe and meeting a Harry Potter nerd could change his life. (I’m shit at summaries

A/N: here it is everyone, the end. I’m so very thankful to each and everyone of you who red this story. It truly means a lot and I'm proud to call this work mine. Many more stories to come for our little faceless man.

H/N means his name, being that we don’t know what his actual name is currently

Time seemed to drag on his entire life, going by each day slowly, waiting, for either something great to happen, or the end. That was, until he met her, and subsequently fell in love with her. Never had he felt such happiness, love, and joy. Even with his fans, he hadn’t felt as amazing as when he was with her, the woman who changed his life. Time seemed to be a blur, a thing that he wished he had more of, to spend with her.

That’s what led him to now, a content and warm smile on his face, heart thumping wildly in his chest, as he pressed share.

If you had told 22 year old H/N that he’d do this, he would’ve looked at you like you were mad. Absolutely fucking bonkers.

But now a 27 year old H/N, was doing the very thing he was mortified of doing.

Not only was it a photo, but the photo. The one that he knew would no doubt cause a total meltdown on the internet.

There he was, a smile on his face as he held his new baby girl. Having just had her placed in his arms a few seconds prior to the photo. His pale tattooed arms wrapping around the small baby, a hand placed on her tiny head.

You could clearly see his face, only half of it showed to the camera. His head leaning down, a large, proud smile on his face as tears streamed from his eyes as he looks at his daughter.

Under the photo, layed a caption, one that he truly came up with on the spot. Pouring as much as his heart into it as he could.

‘I always was apprehensive about posting my face, always pushing it off and never felt it was the right time. I always said I would do it when I was not only happy with myself, but my life. Well, today is one of the best days of my life. I became a father to my beautiful daughter Evee. Her mother, is one of the strongest, most selfless, amazing women I’ve ever met. Seeing her bring our daughter into this world, with a smile on her face through it all, shows just how fucking truly amazing she is. I’ve never felt so proud in my life, than first being a husband and now a father. I love you all, and my girls.’

He had turned his phone off for a week, after posting, and sharing the link to Twitter with the caption ‘sorry for my inconsistent posting these last few months. Something incredibly small, but big came up, and changed my life. Oh and face reveal.’ He wanted to completely blank out everything from the outside world, and only focus on his girls. The two women who both changed his entire life, who made him the happiest man alive. Once a broken man, now full of love, and happiness because of them. He wanted nothing but to spend as much time as he could, basking in the joys of fatherhood, and loving the woman he so proudly calls his wife.

It’s as if his daughter knew to come exactly a week before the day, the day he cherished for the second year in a row. The day he married the love of his life.

To commemorate it, he turned his phone back on, letting all the notifications come pouring in, and again went to post.

While his last post was dedicated to not only revealing who he was, but his daughter, his wife was absent from the photo. As per her request, claiming to ‘looking horrible’ that day. He argued that she hadn’t looked as beautiful, since the day they said I do. But he kept to her wishes, keeping the photos and videos of the day between them.

But this post, was purely dedicated to the first love of his life. The woman, who had changed his entire life, who he had never shared to the world. Wanting to keep her existence to himself and the ones he kept close to him. The woman he swears is proof heaven exists and sent her to him, with wings on her back and a glow that shines greater than any light, or star.

The first photo, was what had been his background on everything, and framed and kept between them and his closest friends, and one of his favorite photos to have ever been taken.

It was their first kiss as husband and wife, a promise to love one another to eternity, to seal the pure love between them. The moment she became his wife, and her husband and lover.

The second, was one of the best videos he’s ever had. Nobody but them had seen it, not even his friends. Wanting to keep it between them, until now.

She had hid the phone out of sight, perfectly filming their couch where she sat him.

It was his birthday, a day he grew to love in the 4 years he’s spent with her. A day he once hated, now loved because of her. It reminded him that another year was spent by her side, a reminder that he was here for a reason, to meet and love her.

She handed him a box, just a plain wrapped box. It was rather small, not that he cared, having loved anything and everything she gave him, knowing it came from her heart.

He opened it, and with a gasp, a hand flew to his mouth as tears instantly came to his eyes. In a state of pure shock, and pure happiness and joy, he looked at the positive pregnancy test.

A laugh bubbles out of her as tears fell from her eyes at the look of pure joy written on her husbands face, before being pulled into his arms, tears streaming down both of their faces as they clutch one another, pure love and joy between them as they embrace one another.

The next photo, was one he had not only framed but a small copy in his wallet, but in his car, and filming room.

She hardly showed the entirety of the pregnancy, that was until she hit 8 months. Only a month to two until their little girl came into the world.

Both of her hands held the side of her now large belly, her shirt pulled up revealing her bump. Her head leaning down with a smile on her face, looking lovingly at his hand that was placed in the middle of her stomach. He remembers the feeling of their daughter kicking his hand softly, laughter bubbling out of him at his daughter's excitement at feeling her fathers touch. Even without being in the world yet, they had a connection from the moment she was created.

The next was again a video, one that made both laugh when they would watch.

She was filming it, laying on her back. She was heavily pregnant now, due in only a week from the day.

He laid on her legs, leaning down with both hands on the sides of her stomach. He moved his face down to her stomach, mumbling a ready to her which she said go to. He blew a raspberry into her stomach, a gasp that followed with laughter as their daughter jumped visibly inside her. You could clearly see the moment through her skin, making both laugh.

He did it a few more times,finally stopping due to feeling bad, kissing her stomach while whispering “I’m sorry baby, daddy won’t scare you anymore.”

The next photo, was exactly a year from the day. And one of his favorites.

It was their first wedding anniversary, a day they celebrated by going to the same park they first went to, under the very same cherry blossom tree.

They both dressed up, looking rather odd under the tree, with a small picnic and blanket. But neither cared, as they sat under the tree, embracing one another in the love they created, all those years ago.

It was a simple photo really. Just them kissing under the tree, smiles tugging at the corners of their mouths. Her left hand on his cheek, showing the stunning wedding and engagement ring he got for her. His left arm wrapping around her shoulders, revealing the black wedding band she got for him.

The next photo, was taken the present day, not a minute before he started piling these moments into a post. One that he loved dearly, a smile on his face as he looked at it.

It was truly a candid photo, one that wasn’t staged or planned, posed or anything. But truly magical to look at.

There she sat on the couch, hair a tangled mess and glasses perched on her nose. One hand writing notes down, with the other holding their daughter to her breast, a smile on her face as she fed her baby girl.

He had always been facilitated with watching her feed Evee, joking that it was just to stare at her enlarged breasts. But it was more than that, it was the sheer magic and aw that would take over him watching her body be able to do such a thing, how he truly thought she was magic, being able to feed their daughter with her body.

He put another one, one that they both smile at with warm hearts at the memory.

It was their very first photo, from only 4 years ago. It was from the fourth of July, layed on the blanket they brought to watch the fireworks. They both lay with smiles on their faces, looking at one another with an unspoken, but bubbling love that they look fondly back to.

He ended the series of pictures with one last video, one that he would cherish forever.

It was the night they came home from the hospital, a night that they will remember forever.

Both her and Evee lay on his naked chest, sound asleep on each side of his wide chest.

Her head rested on his right shoulder, a hand laying on her daughter's back.

Their daughter laid on his other side, her small face squished as it laid against his chest, the sound of his heartbeat lulling the baby to sleep.

He looked up to the phone, a tired smile on his face as he snapped it. Truly in the best place in the world. A place he thinks as his personal heaven.

He captioned the post as well, again choosing to come up with it on the spot, coming from his heart as a declaration of love to his little family.

‘It’s almost like my daughter knew to come into the world exactly a week before our 2 year anniversary. Like she knew that it would make perfect timing, to make my world whole. To fill my heart with even more love, that I didn’t know was possible, until I met my beautiful wife.

Y/N is more than just that though, she’s the strongest, most amazing, loving, beautiful, and truly badass woman I’ve ever met. She’s the most selfless, loving, and truly mind bending woman in the world, truly changing my life no more than 4 years ago today.

I met her at a cafe that’s a few blocks away from my old apartment, never imagining to meet someone there that day, who would turn my world upside down in the best way possible.

It didn’t take long to fall deeply in love with her, with how amazing she is, and the purest, most loving heart in the world.

She has a care like nobody else, a love to help others that stretches past the world, a love that she gave me, that chose me, to love her forever.

The first, was the moment I kissed my now wife, a kiss I’ll never forget

This video I’ve kept to myself and her this entire time, not wanting to show anyone, the moment she captured my reaction to finding out that, I was becoming a father. A moment that’s engraved into my mind and heart forever.

The next, is one of my favorites I’ve ever taken. She has always looked beautiful, every second of everyday. But she truly glowed, and was the most breathtaking when she was pregnant, a time I’ll miss, but love like it was yesterday.

The next video was just something she had watched on YouTube, an idea she told me we should try at 3 in the morning, after I came back in from a long night of streaming with my friends and you guys. It was truly not only the funniest fucking thing to watch, but do eye opening, the feeling of my daughter jumping inside her, is a feeling I swear I’m still able to feel.

The next, was exactly a year ago today. Our first anniversary as husband and wife. An entire year spent with being her husband. And her my wife. It was taken under the same tree she brought me to the day after we met, feeling a connection to her that I didn’t think was possible to feel.

The next, was taken just a few minutes ago. A true 180 from last year, but truly a beautiful moment, between a loving mother, who’s studying to become the greatest therapist there ever is, and her daughter. A moment I’m proud to be a part of and to help create.

The next, was the first photo we ever took together. It’s funny to look back on, to see the early signs of love in our eyes as we look at one another. Not knowing what’s to come.

And the last, was from the night we came home from the hospital. Evee was only 2 days old then, feeling like it was so long ago, but at the same time only yesterday. I hadn’t ever been so content, and happy, as holding my 2 girls in my arms.

Today’s less about me, and the shock of not only showing who I am, and being a father and married man. But rather a day to celebrate the wonderful woman I call my wife, and my beautiful daughter. Thank you everyone, for being by my side, and being here to watch my wolf change

-Corpse.

He smile as he logged into the stream, watching as views and the chat blows up as he hears all his friends voices.

All of them congratulate him, on not only the reveal of his face, but his newborn baby.

The entirety of the game is spent with everyone asking questions, showing great love and joy to him.

“So corpse, how’s it feel to have corpse daddy trending for a week now?” Asks Rae. Laughter bubbles out of him at this, his hand coming to his mouth. “It’s, honestly really funny. I never thought I’d see the day.”

Many asked how his daughter and wife were, and asking when they could meet them. He promised that one day they both would make an appearance in either a video or stream.

He played for only 2 hours, having to cut it short when the monitor goes off with the cries of his daughter. “Uh hey guys, I gotta get going, Evee needs her daddy. Alright, bye guys, thank you.”

He lays in the rocking chair he had built, rocking her back and forth as he fed her a bottle. He watched with tears in his eyes, a smile on his face at his little girl, wrapped in a pink fuzzy blanket. Her little hand held onto his pinky, squeezing the digit tightly as he held the small bottle.

He hummed quietly to her, a song she always fell fast asleep to.

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy, when skies are grey. You’ll never know dear, how much I love you, please don’t take, my sunshine away.”

He ended the song with a soft kiss to her forehead, a smile on his face as he watched her sleep in his arms.

He looked up when he heard her, a smile on his face growing as his heart flutters in his chest.

She stood at the door, leaning against it. She only wore one of his shirts, the wine stain on it making him laugh. A tired, but happy smile graced her beautiful face as she looked at her little family.

She walked over to him, bending down and kissing his waiting lips. “I love you.” She whispers, hun repeating the words back before kissing her again.

They all lay in bed, having decided to bring their daughter to their room as they slept.

Both girls lay on his chest, as he looks down at both of them sound asleep. Never, has he felt so happy. And never, would he think that going to a small coffee shop, would lead to this. He knew the little Harry Potter fan he met all those years ago was different, truly loving the elf at the cafè he met all those years ago.

[hafanforever]

When in Ahtohallan, after singing “Show Yourself”, Elsa comes across visions of moments and memories from the past. One of which she takes particular notice is of her grandfather Runeard during his reign as the king of Arendelle. And in only about one minute, her feelings about seeing him drastically change in rapid succession.

After seeing the memory of Iduna rescuing Agnarr from the forest, Elsa hears someone address Runeard by name, to which she turns in their direction and gasps, “Grandfather!” She is delighted to finally see a vision of him and walks up to the figure of him and the servant by his side.

But then Runeard says, “The Northuldra follow magic, which means we can never trust them.” Upon hearing this, Elsa says, “Grandfather?” in a quizzical tone of voice, clearly shocked at this statement. She increasingly becomes more appalled and devastated as Runeard continues, “Magic makes people feel too powerful, too entitled. It makes them think they can defy the will of a king.”

Finally, in a calm tone of voice, but with a clear look of anger on her face, Elsa defiantly responds, “That is not what magic does. That’s just your fear. Fear is what can’t be trusted.”

As I said, in just a few seconds, Elsa’s feelings for her late grandfather change very quickly in this brief scene. Since childhood, Elsa presumably viewed Runeard as a noble, generous leader, and had love and respect for him despite never knowing him. She also presumably heard many good things about him from Agnarr, her father and Runeard’s son, that she further held him in high esteem. Therefore, she was happy to finally see a vision of him from the past.

But when Runeard says that the Northuldra can never be trusted due to their associations with magic, Elsa is immediately distraught. She is shocked to learn that he was actually a cold, prejudiced, closed-minded man who not only hated magic, but detested and distrusted anyone and everyone who had any kind of association with magic. She defends herself when Runeard says that magic only makes people feel more powerful and entitled than the power of a monarch.

Elsa’s feelings go from sadness to anger as she listen’s to Runeard’s words during this scene shows that SO MUCH is going on with her. First of all, Elsa’s response in defending magic comes from her own personal experiences. Elsa knows better than anyone that magic doesn’t make you feel too powerful. On the contrary, for nearly her entire life, she was traumatized by her powers after she accidentally injured Anna. She subsequently became burdened by insecurity, depression, anxiety, self-loathing, and overall poor self-esteem because she felt hopeless at controlling her powers. They always made her feel like a burden, a danger, a curse, not only to her family, but to the rest of the world. Elsa’s powers caused her to struggle with so many negative emotions that she shut out the people she loved most for fear of harming them, which only tripled these emotions because it left her deprived of affectionate, loving attention and gestures when she needed them most. Furthermore, Elsa knew that her powers made her far from ordinary, that her uniqueness increased greater chances of people fearing her just for them, not accepting her. And after her fears were realized following her coronation and her accidental eternal winter curse on Arendelle, it was ultimately due to Anna’s loving sacrifice that Elsa finally understood that love is the key to it all.

So in complete contrast to Runeard’s beliefs, Elsa’s magic NEVER made her feel entitled or superior to others, ever! Her powers always made her feel powerless! By this time, even after ruling Arendelle for three years, Elsa takes her role as the queen in stride. Her people love her and her gift, but she never shows them off in a condescending way and still doesn’t see herself as being superior over them or her own sister just for being magical.

But second of all, Elsa is upset in this scene because she clearly takes Runeard’s statement VERY personally. This is her grandfather here. Her own family. Her own flesh and blood. Hearing his negative attitude towards magic makes her realize that, had he known her, he would have immediately despised her simply for being magical! He probably would have never acknowledged her as his descendant. He would have automatically denied her birthright, disowned her, acted as if she didn’t exist.

This hurts Elsa very deeply because it is a stark contrast to the rest of her immediate family. Agnarr, Iduna, and Anna always loved Elsa so much, unconditionally, and unquestionably that they accepted her and her magic. (Anna accepted Elsa’s abilities before her accident and her memory wipe, yet continued to love her sister despite never knowing why they were suddenly kept apart.) Despite the problems Elsa’s powers occasionally caused and the negative effects it had on her self-esteem as she grew up, Agnarr and Iduna never stopped loving their oldest daughter and felt despondent in not knowing how to help her. And now, after years of hiding from the world and fearing that others will never accept her magic, Elsa’s people, friends, and family have accepted her, abilities and all. They love her for who she is. For the past three years, she has been gradually learning to love herself with success. And now that she realizes where her powers came from and understands her life’s true purpose as the fifth spirit, Elsa has finally gained complete confidence and trust in herself. She has fully embraced herself and her magic, which brought her to tears of great joy mere minutes ago.

And so all of a sudden in this scene, upon learning of Runeard’s feelings about magic and people connected to magic, Elsa instantly realizes with devastation that her grandfather never would have accepted her AT ALL. She took this as a punch to her gut.

But her response was a powerful one, and one that she’ll never stop defending.

I am so proud of my girl for growing from a guilt-ridden individual who hated what made her special to a confident, strong woman who will never stop fighting for what magic truly is and does! Love you, Elsa! 😄❤️😄❤️😄❤️

Special thanks to my friend @aqueenthatisfrozen​, whose own analysis about Elsa’s reactions and response in this scene was an inspiration for this one!

[starring-movies]

Killing Eve: Episode Analysis

*SPOILERS*

Season 3, Episode 6 - End of Game

The episode begins by continuing on with the storyline that got left off in S3E4, and we find that Niko has survived the ‘pitchforking’, is on a ventilator and is not able to speak. We also find out that Niko’s father, Maciek, doesn’t like (and has never liked) Eve because he thought she would be a “great big ball ache” for Niko - which turns out to be an understatement, considering everything that he’s been through since being with Eve.

We then carry on with Villanelle, who we find out is back from Russia, and attending the meeting with a representative from The Twelve, which Dasha told her about in S2E4.

When Hélène (the representative from The Twelve) arrives, she’s in the middle of a phone conversation with her daughter. From their conversation we are told that Hélène’s daughter fell off her scooter and hurt her “minou”, but Hélène says to her mother that she doesn’t “have time for this”, that her daughter is just “doing all this to get our attention” and she should just “put some cream on it, that’ll calm her a bit”.

This conversation that Hélène has with her daughter is a reflection of how she, and The Twelve, are choosing to deal with Villanelle. Villanelle is equivalent to Hélène’s daughter, who is in their opinion “doing all this to get our attention”; and so they “put some cream on it” by only pretending to promote her to a keeper, just so they can placate her and “calm her a bit”.

Hélène’s conversation, with her mother and daughter, is obviously also a sensitive subject for Villanelle, who is still dealing with having just returned from killing her mother. Listening to Hélène’s conversation (with three generation’s of her family’s women: the grandma, Hélène herself and Hélène’s daughter), will remind Villanelle of the maternal gap in her life; and Hélène will especially remind Villanelle of her own mother, due to the lack of concern and understanding that she gives to her daughter after falling over.

In this scene, it’s also clear that Villanelle is not her usual self, not only from her ragged appearance, but also as she asks Hélène up front, “are you trying to seduce me?”. Ordinarily, Villanelle would revel in the attention that she’s getting and join in with any flirtations. However, the blatant way in which Villanelle just asks Hélène if she’s trying to seduce her, after thinking that she might be, demonstrates how she’s not in the headspace to want to partake in or enjoy any games and is just looking to get straight to the point of the meeting.

When we return back to Eve, who is now back at Bitter Pill investigating who pitchforked Niko, we get a little glimpse at how much Eve and Villanelle have come to know and understand one another. Jamie asks Eve if Villanelle would have stabbed Niko “to torture” her, but Eve says “not like this”.

Eve never even entertains the idea that Villanelle could have been the one to harm Niko, because she knows Villanelle well enough now and she knows that Villanelle knows she’s not allowed to harm Niko - she also knows that Villanelle knows that this is not to torture her, as she’s been torturing her since they met and she knows that her “torture” of Eve is more flirtatious and like a game between the two of them.

Out of anger and frustration, Eve then goes to the building’s vending machine to buy an out of date muffin, and as she’s assaulting the machine for a KitKat, Bear tells her that “sometimes you need to just let it win”. Bear is referring to everything going wrong in Eve’s life - that she was tricked into going to Poland just to watch Niko being stabbed, that she’s alone, that she’s homeless and that her friends are dead - but his advice can also be applied to Eve’s darkness and her acceptance of it. Eve’s been fighting off and pushing away the existence of her darkness for the last two seasons, but like Bear says, “sometimes you need to just let it win”, which is what Eve is finally able to do at the end of S3E8.

After Bear gives Eve the advice “to just let it win”, the KitKat finally falls out of the machine. It wasn’t Eve’s persistent battering of the machine that made the KitKat drop down; but it was her submitting and letting the KitKat win, after Bear told her that that’s what she should do, that led to her getting the KitKat. In the same way, this scene suggests that once Eve gives in and is able to accept her darkness, which she finally does in S3E8, everything will similarly ‘fall into place’ for her.

We then see Konstantin and Villanelle discussing Konstantin’s escape, and Konstantin asks her if she realises she will have to leave everything behind, “the clothes, apartment, and her” and Villanelle tell him “I know”. We can see from this that Villanelle values her freedom above everything and now (after everything that happened in Russia) considers Konstantin to be her only family; and she’s willing to leave Eve behind forever, if it means that she has her freedom.

It isn’t until S3E8 that Villanelle realises that there is no-one that cares for her as much as Eve, and so she decides that Konstantin is not her family and by not choosing to leave with him, she makes the decision that Eve is worth sacrificing her freedom for.

When Villanelle goes to visit Irina at school, she asks “is he a pervert” about Irina’s mother’s new boyfriend. This is a little reference to S1E8, when Irina asks Villanelle “are you a paedophile”.

We can also see the influence that Villanelle has on Irina and how alike they are becoming. Villanelle frankly suggests to Irina that “if he’s that bad kill him”, but she is the one who takes Irina driving (to try to find out where Konstantin is planning to escape to) and Irina ends up killing her mother’s boyfriend by running him over in a car.

Another small detail is that In S1E8, Irina tells Villanelle “I don’t know yet” when she is asked if she’s a “bad person” - it seems the answer may now be becoming apparent.

We then move on to Carolyn’s interrogation of Konstantin, concerning his involvement with Kenny and Geraldine. After Konstantin tells Carolyn that Kenny supposedly asked him if he was Kenny’s father, ‘Dido’s Lament’ (aka. ‘When I am Laid in Earth’) from the opera ‘Dido and Aeneas’, starts playing. The opera is based on the epic ‘The Aeneid’, by the author Virgil. The story is about Dido who falls with Aeneas and kills herself from grief, when she is subsequently abandoned by him.

Carolyn’s silence after Konstantin reveals this to her, suggests that there’s a possibility that Konstantin is Kenny’s father. We know from S3E8 that Konstantin went to go see Kenny because he had been investigating The Twelve’s amounts, but it’s still likely that Kenny also did ask if Konstantin was his father (just like how Konstantin tells Carolyn that Geraldine kissed him, which was true, but omits that he perused her to find out information on what Carolyn was doing). ‘Dido’s Lament’ was also used in S3E2, to portray Carolyn’s grief over losing Kenny as well as her guilt at being unable to investigate his death. Whereas in this scene, the song is used once again to portray Carolyn’s grief, but it’s also used this time for her probable guilt for Kenny being Konstantin’s child and her not telling him.

We also get the parallels of two interrogations taking place in cars. Villanelle takes Irina driving, in order to find out that Konstantin in planning on escaping to Cuba; and Carolyn takes Konstantin for a drive, in order to interrogate him about his involvement with Kenny and Geraldine. The choice for Villanelle and Carolyn to use cars (cars are thought of to be fast and dangerous) to get the information they’re looking for, highlights the urgency as well as the danger and risk, that is linked with the information that they’re trying to find out - Konstantin’s escape plan is risky and Konstantin associating with Kenny and Geraldine is dangerous for them.

When Eve goes to Barcelona, to have a game of bowling with Dasha and ask about Villanelle, Dasha tells Eve that Villanelle is a “perfect killing machine, that’s all she’s there for, that’s all she knows” and be says “I don’t think so”. Just like Eve’s comment to Jamie - that Villanelle wouldn’t torture her “like this” - her comment that killing isn’t all Villanelle’s good for, or is all she knows, again emphasises how much more Eve has come to understand her.

Before Dasha leaves, she tells Eve that it’s the “end of game”, which is the title of the episode. This is a triple entendre: for Dasha saying that it’s the end of Eve’s game with The Twelve because she will never be able to win against them, for it being the end of their game of bowling, and it also signifies the end of Villanelle and Eve’s cat and mouse game because they eventually decide to accept that they have to be a part of one another’s lives.

After Villanelle’s disastrous kill in Romania, Dasha finds her back in her Barcelona apartment, where she’s having a breakdown and trying to attend to the stab wound in her arm. Villanelle tells Dasha “I don’t want to do this anymore”, which she said exactly in S1E5 and again repeats to Eve on the bridge in S3E8, saying in similar words “I don’t want to do it anymore, any of it”.

We also get an overhead shot of Villanelle as she’s sitting on her bathroom floor, contemplating where her life is leading her. The shot evokes the imagery of the tarot card, the Hanged Man. The definition I found here was, “The Hanged Man calls you to release the old mental models and behavioural patterns that no longer serve you so you can see your world from a new perspective and embrace new opportunities that would have otherwise been hidden from you. The Hanged Man can sometimes reflect that you are feeling stuck or restricted in your life”.

From this we can see that the choice to use this imagery, is to show us how Villanelle has come to a point where she wants to move on from her old life and what used to make her happy, as she has a new perspective. However, because of her working for The Twelve, she is stuck in her situation and can’t see a way to break out from their control over her.

We then get a short scene of Eve choosing to visit Niko in hospital one last time and then presumably leaving him forever, which is what Niko asked her to do at the beginning of the episode. The scene is very short but has a lot of symbolism in it.

We see a shot of Eve, from outside the hospital room, as she watches Niko sleeping and then turns and leaves. Her reflection can be seen in the glass of the hospital room wall, as if there is two of her: her past self (or an alternative self), who is in the hospital room with Niko and looking back at her; and then there’s her actual self, who stands outside the room, separated from those on the other side by the wall.

Her reflection in the glass is washed out and faint, showing us how her past self was merely a shade of the person she actually is; whereas her actual self is obviously much more vibrant (because it’s real), showing us how this is who she really is and who she’s always been deep down. Her decision to walk away from Niko and her past self is a very significant one, as it marks her active decision to move away from her old life and her final acceptance of the person that she has been trying to push away, for her whole life.

When Eve decides to let go of Niko, the song playing over the scene is ‘Boy and Girl’ by Unloved. The lyrics that can be heard are:

“There was a girl,

Who loved a boy,

And then they lived,

And then they laughed,

'till the time they cried,

So they fell,

Out of love,

To the depths,

Of the sea,

Where lovers tears,

Swell and swim,

Together for,

Eternity”

The lyrics that we hear communicate the journey of Eve and Niko’s relationship and how it has run it’s course. They were once happy and fell in love with each other, but then they gradually grew apart to different paths and fell out of love.

You can read my previous Killing Eve posts here:-

First Introduction to Villanelle

First Introduction to Eve

S1, E1 - Nice Face

S1, E2 - I’ll Deal With Him Later

S1, E3 - Don’t I Know You?

S1, E4 - Sorry Baby

S1, E5 - I Have a Thing about Bathrooms

S1, E6 - Take Me to the Hole!

S1, E7 - I Don’t Want to Be Free

S1, E8 - God, I’m Tired

S2, E1 - Do You Know How to Dispose of a Body?

S2, E2 - Nice and Neat

S2, E3 - The Hungry Caterpillar

S2, E4 - Desperate Times

S2, E5 - Smell Ya Later

S2, E6 - I Hope You Like Missionary!

S2, E7 - Wide Awake

S2, E8 - You’re Mine

S3, E1 - Slowly Slowly Catchy Monkey

S3, E2 - Management Sucks

S3, E3 - Meetings Have Biscuits

S3, E4 - Still Got It

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 1]

S3, E5 - Are You From Pinner? [Part 2]

S3, E7 - Beautiful Monster

S3, E8 - Are You Leading or Am I? [Part 1]

——————————————————————————

[doctordeathlymittens]

Some thoughts about Wonder Woman 1984

I know I’m super late to the party here. This movie hasn’t casted the barest shadow of its mediocrity on my mind since it came out, but I’ve tumbled ass over teakettle down a youtube depression hole and I’ve climbed out with some thoughts and opinions about what I think would’ve been better ideas. Anyway, here’s my very loose, vague, and messy WW84 rewrite. 

First things first: There wasn’t nearly enough decade-appropriate needle drops in this whole damn movie. Where’s Heart? Lita Ford?? Joan Jett??? Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding out for a Hero’ was released in ‘84, y’all had so many iconic options by female performers and chose one song from Duran Duran and Frankie goes to Hollywood. This movie was too damn long to just have those two songs.

Diana’s internal conflict is her loneliness and self-isolation. She still mourns not only the loss of Steve Trevor, but the loss of her friends from her time in WWI (alongside the pictures of Steve in her apartment are newspaper clippings from the obituaries of Sameer, Napi, and Charlie and the letters they exchanged over the years) and her family on Themyscira (Diana spends most of her free time among ancient Geek relics and artifacts because while they didn’t belong to her people, they’re the only things that remind her of home). Diana has not healed from her grief and has built up walls around her heart because she doesn’t want to be hurt when she has to watch the connections and relationships she makes with people wither and die.

Diana and Barbara should become genuine friends, Barbara should not become the Cheetah in this film. I would kill and die for a meet-cute where Diana (not Wonder Woman) saves Barbara from a minor accident, Diana brushes off her gratitude and goes to work at the museum and lo and behold Dr. Barbara Ann Minerva shows up as her new coworker. Barbara again expresses her gratitude and tries to get to know her as her peer, but Diana responds coldly and ultimately lashes out at her on the anniversary of Steve’s death. Barbara stands up to Diana and calls her out for being a dick to her. Diana apologizes (because she’s allowed to be wrong and emotionally messy in this fantasy movie) and offers to buy her lunch to make up for it. While together Barbara tells Diana that she’s been having trouble making friends and connecting to people since she moved, even at work as her academic interests are niche and rather intense. So niche, that even Diana, the immortal Amazon, isn’t familiar. Diana again apologizes and opens up about why she had lashed out and acknowledges her own loneliness. Barbara tells Diana that she can tell her about Steve or her family if it makes her feel better and Diana asks Barbara about her research. Subsequent scenes at the museum show Barbara and Diana spending a lot of time with each other. Diana starts showing a little jealousy when Barbara gains romantic attention from a male peer.

Maxwell Lord shouldn’t be the main antagonist (but should remain in the film as an antagonist because Pedro Pascal), the immortal witch Circe should definitely be the villain. Circe’s inclusion could work better as she is another immortal, powerful woman who has tangled with the gods, but came out of the years of conflict hardened and self-serving. She exemplifies the mentality of ‘nothing else matters as long as I get mine’, which would work well in tandem with Maxwell Lord as long as it’s clear that she considers herself second to none. Circe and Lord would function as a toxic relationship where they played each other to gain economic and political power where Circe would ultimately come out on top because Lord’s humiliation was icing on the cake of her actual goals: the destruction of Themyscira and killing Queen Hippolyta. Why? Because Circe is the pettiest mf to ever walk the earth. Circe uses Lord to make her plays because she knows that men will only listen to other men. She sets him up to fail and be taken down by Wonder Woman, cleanly passing the blame from her to WW (setting up a better written future conflict between the two). Circe would watch his downfall over caviar and champagne on a private jet on her way to meet up with the multinational naval force she’s acquired.

The final conflict is a cat and mouse game between Circe and WW across the naval ships with Circe putting as many enchanted soldiers between her and WW as she possibly can while keeping the ships on track for the island. In the climax of the film and nearing Themyscira, Circe tries trapping Diana in an illusion with Steve and her mother and Antiope living happily, but Diana has grown emotionally. She’s no longer weighed down by her grief and loss, but is filled with bittersweet happiness at seeing her loved ones again. She gets to say goodbye. With that she’s able to break free of the illusion and confront Circe one final time. It’s a massive struggle between Circe wrathfully throwing everything she has against Diana and Diana just trying to talk her down and survive while saving who she can from the sinking ships, deflecting Circe’s spells with her gauntlets (because why not?). In the conflict, Diana realizes that Circe isn’t just a sorceress, but another Amazonian as well, the first to be banished, the first to be abandoned. Diana reflects Circe’s last attempt at illusion back at her. While she’s momentarily lost in her own spell, Diana immobilizes her with her lasso. Circe breaks down under the weight of what her illusion showed and her loss. Diana, in an act of compassion and recognition of who she almost allowed herself to be, embraces Circe as the ship sinks (fuck it, its raining too).

Diana and Circe wash ashore Themyscira along with the debris of their battle. Diana wakes to blinding sunlight blocked by a crowned figure, her mother standing over her, backed by a dozen armed Amazonians (”I remember something like this from a different angle.”). Hippolyta helps her daughter up, both overjoyed and furious to see her (”You have brought strangers to my shores again, daughter...and an outcast.” Diana is just happy to hear her call her ‘daughter��� again). Queen Hippolyta orders her soldiers to take Circe away as ‘she clearly can’t be handled by the world of men’ and sits on the shoreline with her daughter. She asks Diana if she’s been living happily out there in the world. Diana responds “No, but I think I’m starting to.” Diana acknowledges that she knows she cannot stay, but asks to see Antiope’s grave before she goes. Her mother nods with a smile and says “My love, I don’t believe you wish to stay.” In the quiet solitude of Antiope’s gravesite, Diana hugs her mother one last time. Fade to black, roll credits.

Mid-credit scene: Diana is being sent off more officially by her mother and the people of Themyscira. As she and Hippolyta walk. back down to the beach, Diana notices there’s no boat. Hippolyta says that with all the advances of man, she thought there was a better option than a small boat among those metal moving islands. The wind blows on queue, highlighting the shape of an invisible jet. “It washed ashore shortly after you did. We made some improvements.”

After-credit scene: Barbara is working in Diana’s office. Diana is still on vacation (in the middle of the ocean) and it’s obvious Barbara misses her. A parcel delivery serviceman knocks on the open door. He asks for Dr. Prince. Barbara says she isn’t in, but she’ll sign for it for her. He hands her a small wooden crate. Barbara pries it open, plucking an elegantly inked letter from the packing straw. ‘Big fan of your work, thought this would look lovely among your personal collection.’ Barbara digs through the box, finding a dark stone carved head of a cheetah with shining yellow-gem eyes. Barbara stares at the artifact for an uncomfortably long beat. She blinks and shakes herself from the trance. She leaves the note and the head on Diana’s desk and leaves with the empty box. The camera lingers on the artifact. It crumbles to dust.

[wronqness99]

Alone Together

Genre: Angst, Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K+

Warnings: Emotional abuse, mentions of alcoholism, unhealthy relationships

Characters: Park JaeHyung / Jae Park (Day6) X Female Reader

> About my writing

*The image doesn’t belong to me, credits to the owner.*

Y/N held her knees close to her chest as she rocked her body back and forth in an attempt to calm herself as tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

She felt broken and saddened by everything that had happened in the last few hours. Ever since her parents' divorce, the girl had felt like she barely knew her own mother who was once a dedicated housewife and someone who she could always rely on, who was there to protect her, to help her and encourage her way through life.

She felt some much needed peace when her mother finally decided to leave the unhealthy marriage in their past, even though her father sometimes liked to scare them by trying to intrude in their lives and know more than he should with his unhealthy addiction to alcohol, which made them fear for their lives sometimes. It enraged Y/N how the man couldn't seem to understand what he had done wrong for them to leave, the irreparable damage he had done to his own flesh and blood. She knew things were not going to be easy, but she never expected such a sudden dramatic change.

Y/N couldn't help it, her mother's new behaviour messed with her head more than she would like to admit and it became the reason for the loud screaming and fighting between the women quite often which would then lead to heartbreak and tears. It was like a cycle. Her mother liked to turn things on her and make her feel guilty by saying Y/N didn't want her happiness whenever the girl tried to reason and calmly explain why it bothered her so much seeing the older woman contact multiple men through the internet, but everything became worse when Y/N discovered her mom lied to her in order to go out with those men without her knowledge. This strained their relationship in an incredibly irreparable way. The one she had always trusted with everything was now failing her in avail of other people. She had been there to support her mother through the difficulties with the marriage and never left her side all the way through the divorce process, while most of their family just pitied the alcoholic man who had been unemployed for years and would never make anything of himself. Yet, despite all of that, she seemed to have just become something replaceable for her mother, like a rag who had become too old and could no longer serve its purpose. The woman always rubbed the sacrifices she made for the younger on her face in order to guilt trap her, but failed to see how many times her daughter had stopped living her life and doing things people her age were supposed to just to be by her side and somehow protect her. She didn't like to go to parties or stay out late with friends, she never went to sleepovers and whenever her family members invited her to go on holiday with them, Y/N would always refuse. She didn't want her mother to feel alone, she didn't want anything to happen to her best friend.

This time around, however, their fight had been on another level and it blew completely out of hand. Y/N had begged her mother not to go meet that guy. She was tired of seeing her mom jumping from man to man, the older having had her know of two different relationships within the span of less than a year, but she knew there were more. It pained her extremely and she couldn't understand how her relationship with the older woman had always been enough for them both until the moment of divorce when it just wasn't anymore. She felt like she had lost her mother.

Even though Y/N was used to her mother not listening to her, she was not expecting the woman to tell her such hurtful, poisonous words. And they fought. Yet again. But this time it was louder, uglier and made her cry more than ever before. It made her never want to see the woman ever again, she felt like her heart was ripped out of her chest.

That was the first time her mother had ever put a relationship with any man she had barely even known before the special, loving one she once had with her daughter.

"Do you think you'll stop me from seeing him just because you can't get used to it? You're worthless. If your behaviour doesn't change you will end up alone. Jae won't be willing to keep up with your nasty personality for much longer." Her mother had said. And Y/N went quiet, the words resonating again and again inside her head. She didn't even notice when her mom left the house.

Jae had been her support through the whole mess that was her parents' relationship, her shitty relationship with her father who was drunk most of the time, her parents' subsequent divorce and her mother's whole change in behaviour. He had been there through everything. Jae had been the warm hug in her heart whenever the situation with her father got out of hand at home before the divorce and after, when the man would call her mother questioning when they were coming back home and what he had done wrong for them to leave, like it wasn't obvious enough, which caused the woman to end up screaming on the phone and Y/N's world to fall apart all over again. Whenever this happened, anxiety episodes were sure to ensue. And Jae had always been there to pick up her pieces. He had always been there for her, reminding her of the strength she had but unfortunately only he seemed to be aware of. He was always there to give her the love she had lacked all throughout her growth like she had been there to remind him how good he was at his art, being a musician. When everyone else opposed his dream, she was there to pull through the hard times with him. Jae wasn't scared of her insecurities or her being broken. Instead, he focused on helping her become better mentally and allowing her to be the real version on herself whenever they were together, no judgement or questions asked. He loved her for her.

They were like each other's anchor, tying each other to reality, tying each other to life.

So many times the girl had asked herself what she would have done without Jae by her side, she honestly wondered if she would still be alive. Whenever things got hard at home when her parents got married, even though she still had her mother, she felt alone. Now, not even being able to count on the woman anymore, she felt even lonelier.

Even though she had a strong and loving relationship with her boyfriend, the woman she called mother had been able to shake her structures and make her doubt herself like never before. Was she really toxic? Did she not deserve Jae? Was he holding such a kind soul from something much better than what she could give him in life?

Well, the probability of answer to that she knew was a strong definitely yes.

She loved Jae and knew he didn't deserve what she put him through. He could do so much better and have someone who was more confident and happy with their own self. Someone who wasn't broken. Y/N was insecure about most things in life, her indecisiveness never really helped with anything either and it just so happened that they had never had really bad days at the same time because the girl was quite sure that if it were to happen, they would probably enter self-destruction mode and ruin one another.

Maybe she really was toxic and maybe she was dragging Jae right down with her. Maybe it truly was the best for him to leave and maybe, just maybe, she was being utterly and completely selfish by not wanting to let go of him.

Hearing the key turn on the lock, Y/N jumped up from the couch, blanket hanging from her shoulders as she ran to her boyfriend, who immediately embraced her in his warmth.

"Lovey..." Jae's voice made itself clear, worry laced in every vibration. "What happened?" He questioned, holding her body tighter and closer to his own, lips pressed to her forehead.

"Please... Please don't get tired of me? I know I'm hard to deal with, I'm not easy to love, but Jae, I love you with all my heart and I promise you I will always do my best for you! Please don't leave me..." The girl hiccuped, holding his white t-shirt tightly inside her fists as if that would keep the man she loved from ever leaving her side.

"Baby, look at me," Jae asked, holding her by the shoulders and pushing her back a little so he could look into her eyes. His heart broke seeing her tear stained cheeks and watery eyes that didn't seem to be going to stop crying anytime soon. He pouted, and carefully cleaned her tears with his thumb. The man allowed them a short period of silence, wanting his girlfriend to calm down so they could finally talk and he could get a better understanding of what was going on, even though he was pretty sure of the reason that left Y/N in such a state. "Did you fight with your mom again?" He questioned lowly. She nodded before looking down. Jae pulled her closer again and tucked his chin on top of her head, hands running freely through her hair, something he knew was going to help soothe her. "Y/N I'm not going to leave you. Not now and not ever. That is not something you need to worry about. It's truly annoying and saddening how your mother is trying to get to you just because you are opening, or at least trying to open your heart to her by telling her how you truly feel. I understand that she wants to move on and live her life but I won't allow her to make you doubt my feelings for you just because she wants to be selfish and have everything her way." Jae stated firmly. "She shouldn't be treating her own daughter like this, making her doubt her own capacities not only in love but life in general. She's destroying your self-esteem. I won't allow her to take away from you something that was so hard to build." By the tone of his voice and the fast pace of his heart, the girl could tell her boyfriend was mad. Jae knew how much she had struggled with her mental health and loving herself. Even if Y/N did the most amazing things in the world, she couldn't seem to notice that and that was always where Jae came in and helped her see herself a little bit through his loving eyes instead of her dark, unconfident ones, which helped his girlfriend to slowly begin trusting herself and having a little more confidence.

"I feel like I'm losing myself in this wave of emotions that hit me all at once and left me adrift." She chuckled emotionlessly, tears still in her eyes. "I cried so much today my chest went numb. I don't feel myself anymore." Y/N allowed herself to close her eyes for a moment and take in all of Jae. The wooden scent of his perfume, the warmth of his embrace, his caring and loving nature towards her. It was perfect. And she was afraid to lose it. Taking a step back, she looked into his eyes, the man holding both of her hands on his own. "I feel like I'm holding you back from the wonderful life you could have..." She confided barely above a whisper, eyes never leaving his.

"Y/N, please don't hide yourself. Show me you. Show me the real you. Don't hide your heart because of her hurtful words. I don't have any intentions to leave you. I'm here with you like I have always been and plan to always be. You can talk to me, ok? The words you've postponed in fear, the feelings you're holding in, they only do ill to you. The last thing I want is for you to doubt your strength or the strength of our love." He placed her hand on top of his heart. "This belongs to you and you only. But you cannot be afraid of me, especially of my feelings for you. Please believe me when I say that I love you and that I will always be by your side. I will always be here to lull you to sleep and to wake up to your love in the morning. You have no idea how much strength it gives me to just look at you and know you're mine, to know I have a reason. We are family Y/N, we were long before we started dating, when we were only best friends. Our bond was always something out of the ordinary. You mean the world to me, so, please don't be afraid. I will always be beside you."

"I'm sorry..." She said in a whisper and bit her lip in embarrassment. "You've never given me a reason to doubt anything in our relationship, yet here I am, being ridiculous and toxic. Sometimes I feel like I really don't deserve you." She stated, causing the man to shake his head in negation.

"You're not being toxic, you just believed the words of someone who's becoming toxic to you. You are dealing with the situation as best as you can. You never went through this before, you are learning and there is nothing wrong with that, you just need a little time. It's fine, ok? I am here and we'll get through this together like we always do." He stated and smiled, placing a chaste kiss to her lips before pulling her into his warm embrace once again, allowing them both to feel the love that bound them.

"Thank you for everything Jae, I love you. I truly do and there is nothing in this world I want more than to spend eternity with you."

Y/N knew she wasn't alone even if she felt that way. She knew Jae was right there and she could always count on him. He was there to give her strength and tell her how amazing she was over and over again until she would believe it herself.

Jae always made her a priority because, according to his own words, that's where she belonged.

In times like this, she was even more sure he was the one. The one true love that she had waited for her whole life. The one who simply adored her and always brought out the best in her, the one who dropped everything at a ring of the phone so he could be there for her no matter the circumstances, and the one who always made her laugh.

Deep in her heart, she knew they would always be each other's person.

MASTERLIST

[priorireverte]

Congratulations Ash!

Your application for Katie Bell has been accepted. Katie is a character I’ve rarely given much thought, frankly, but I’ve completely fallen in love with her already. You’ve given her so much depth and involved her so closely in everything that is happening. I can’t wait to see what she gets up to!

Please look to the checklist for the next steps and reach out if you have any questions!

OUT OF CHARACTER

NAME & PRONOUNS: Ash, she/her.

TIMEZONE: PST

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I reckon I am about a six or seven out of ten. I am constantly on mobile and accessible for plotting, but prefer to do all of my replies once I am home from work and have access to a computer.

ANYTHING ELSE: I have ten plus years role-playing experience and I am looking forward to this amazing opportunity to potentially write Katie again for the first time in years. She was one of the first characters I ever wrote in the Harry Potter world and holds a very special place in my heart.

CHARACTER DETAILS

NAME: Katherine Emery Bell ( Katie Bell )

BIRTHDATE: 21 April, 1978.

DEATHDATE: 10 October, 1997 N/A, still alive and kicking.

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Katie is a cisfemale who uses she/her pronouns. She is bisexual, as she was taught to love and embrace everyone for who they were at a young age. It doesn’t matter what they are; she only weighs who they are inside.

BLOOD STATUS: Half-blood.

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor.

OCCUPTATION: Unspeakable, Death Chamber.

FACECLAIM: Poppy Drayton, though I might want to switch if accepted / after having some time to sleep on it.

CHARACTER BACKGROUND

POSTBELLUM

Like many, Katie too has scars from the war. They are weighted far heavier than she cares to admit and she carries them with her everywhere. In the pocket of her favorite cloak, tightly wrapped around her not just for warmth, but security too; on her broomstick whenever she needs to escape from the static background noise; or to one of her best mate’s houses where she is sure to find relief at the bottom of a shared bottle of fire-whiskey.

Katie shies away from intimacy’s pervasive touch. She does not give her trust away so freely like she once did as a carefree girl. Every instinct to share a piece of herself and love others is met with restraint. These are a few of the repercussions she faces because of the damage inflicted on her. She has been to a dark place; tethered between the realms of life and death while being neither here nor there. She clawed her way back to stable ground, though there are times she questions its permanence. In fact, if anything the war has taught her everything is fleeting. Now she leaves claw marks on everything, but can’t seem to hold onto any of it.

Practically everyone she knows has been touched in some way by the war; some of their scars running far deeper than her own. She lost friends and a part of herself, but many had it off far worse. Katie tries not to linger on her own pain and psychological trauma for that reason. At the end of the day, she survived; the heart beating in her chest confirms she is alive despite sometimes feeling anything but.

Since the war came to pass five years ago ( though at times it feels like a separate lifetime ago ), Katie has channeled her experiences and emotions into molding a successful career as an Unspeakable where she works in the Death Chamber. Since her brush with death at seventeen, Katie found herself unusually fascinated with the subject matter. She spent six months hospitalized in St. Mungo’s, a majority of which she was at what felt like death’s door. She swore she did die, but that was a difficult pill for her to swallow—let alone anyone else, so she kept that secret sealed tightly under lock and key. Katie figured that was the better alternative than being labeled crazy.

It took a long time for her to cope with what occurred, and even longer to bring up the occurrence with those closest to her. Being cursed certainly had its affects; it changed who she was and what made her tick. When she returned to Hogwarts and participated in the final quidditch match of her school-career against Ravenclaw, the game did not give her the same adrenaline filled rush it once had. She unknowingly battled depression and PTSD that year struggling to hold onto all the things she loved. They no longer provided her with sustenance, but she confused these arbitrary feelings with lackluster consequences from a progressive war with what felt like no end insight.

PERSONALITY

As a girl, Katie was known for being carefree and reckless. She was an untamed spirit who had not yet learned about the world’s cruelness. She had no reason then to be the emotionally guarded woman she would become. The final years of the war forced her to grow up much sooner than she ever planned for herself. Her overly-competitive demeanor was combated by a sudden instability. Trust no longer comes as easily for her as it once did. When she was imperiused during her last year of school and subsequently cursed by the Opal Necklace, she felt like she lost a part of herself. She no longer enjoyed many of the same hobbies she once did. She questioned everything, from the motives of her friends to the intricacies of life. She was no longer left in control, but instead reeling with trust issues in the present day—the most concerning being the lack of trust she feels in herself. It is an unspoken feeling, but it looms above her like a dark cloud.

Since being cursed, Katie has been keenly inept at desensitizing and disassociating from reality whenever it doesn’t fit perfectly in the box she has crafted for it. The war left her jaded and its scars provided an unwanted resilience she transformed into armor. She has survived many battles, but even the ones she lost were never for naught. They each made her stronger—just a mere fraction of the woman she will become, but still knowingly has many lessons to learn before fully evolving. However, Katie is plagued with self-doubt. Perhaps that is what holds her back from achieving her full potential.

Katie is now far more reserved than she once was. Her desire for love and ability to share it with others has diminished since she was a child, muted by a perverted sense of drive. She has a bad habit of shutting not only the world out, but those closest to her too. It can be a lonely road at times, so she throws herself into her work with hopeless abandon. She is driven and sees every project through to the very end. Ironically though, her never-ending need to answer life’s most challenging questions is exactly what holds her back from living life to the fullest. She has a one track mind and can become so preoccupied, or short-sighted, she forgets to hold onto what is really important.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY

Katie grew up in a happy family with very relaxed core values. Her parents always demonstrated love to her and her brother, Christian, even when they weren’t the most deserving or receptive. Olivia and Rhys Bell loved each other fiercely; that was one consistent factor in Katie’s life. As the youngest Bell in the family of four, she was spoiled and fussed over more than she cares too admit. She recalls all the arguments and tiffs her and Christian got into over the years—a trait that seemed to follow the pair into adulthood. Their parents on the other hand hardly ever fought. Katie believed there must be occasions they clashed with one another, but it was evident they were far more emotionally reserved than their children. They made a point not to fight in front of them, which always raised the question of where their children’s argumentative tendencies came from.

It was important for Olivia and Rhys to make their children feel empowered starting at a young age. They wanted to instill in them a strong sense of confidence that would allow them to break through any obstacles in their way or complete whatever task they set out on. As survivors of the first wizarding wixen war, and Olivia being a muggle-born, it was imperative to them their children didn’t embody the same fear or embrace any limitations as they once did. This nurturing mindset is exactly how Katie got into flying. Her father gifted a toy broomstick to her one Christmas when she was no more than six years old. She can recall the sheer horror on her mother’s face that morning; it was evident she was not in on the surprise, otherwise there probably would have been no broom at all that year. Christian had received one a few years prior and Olivia’s excitement over the matter quickly disintegrated when he lost control and spiraled into their garden trellis. Christian didn’t fly again until his first year lessons, however his sister’s abilities came far more natural than his own.

Once Olivia realized her daughter was more agile than her first born, she quickly warmed up to the idea. After she mastered and eventually outgrew the dainty toy broomstick, it was her mom who splurged for her first trainer’s broom. Katie excitedly whipped the new broom around their property, memorizing every trace of it from the new safe haven she had discovered. Flying became an escape for her. Quidditch always brought much excitement, but flying was what truly made her feel at peace with herself. Over the years she fully mastered the skill ( while running through her fair share of broomsticks ), and Katie knew she had her parents to thank for supporting her in spite of themselves and pushing her forward every time she wanted to quit. Though her quidditch career eventually faded away, her love for flying never wavered as her unconditional love for her parents and brother never has.

Present day, Katie and her family still share a special bond. Her parents continue to support all her endeavors even if they don’t necessarily agree or understand them. At times Katie is aware there is a disconnect between them, but it is something she can’t seem to avoid. Olivia and Rhys witnessed their daughter go from a bubbly and charismatic girl to someone almost unrecognizable at times, but since the war is still so fresh for everyone it has become easier to turn the other cheek.

HISTORY

Katie always considered her life very ordinary. Her parents worked hard to ensure her and her brother had a good life. They were a close-knit family and, though they got on her nerves on occasion, there was nothing she wouldn’t do for them. Katie recalls her childhood fondly. Olivia read books to both her children frequently, however Katie found herself to be easily distracted. Her head would wander to the sky where she would pluck shapes out of the clouds. Christian was the calm and retentive child—it was much easier for their parents to hold his attention. Katie on the other hand was a bumbling ball of energy since she was of crawling age. She would color the walls or demolish Christian’s toys if left unattended. It was much easier to hold her attention whenever baking was involved. Katie had a knack for sweets, though the thought of giving her more sugar didn’t always appeal. Still, she somehow persuaded her mum into baking cookies with her often. These were some of the best days of her childhood.

As soon as Katie was gifted her first toy broomstick, a spark ignited. Flying undoubtedly was her first love. Whenever her and Christian had a sibling squabble or he was getting on her nerves, she would run to her broomstick immediately and take flight; and when it was his time to leave for Hogwarts and she was left behind for three more years, flying became her therapy and release. It remedied the loneliness.

When it was finally time for Katie to head off to Hogwarts, her natural charisma and energetic personality really shined through in all she did. She made friends quickly and they became a forefront in her life. She fed off the energy of those around her and subsequently became a member of numerous school clubs. Joining the Gryffindor quidditch team her second year was the highlight of her entire school-career. She considered those initial years to be the best of all; her original teammates quickly became a second family to her. It was a feeling that still echoed long after their glory days on the quidditch pitch.

When Lord Voldemort returned, Katie found herself at a loss for words. She considered Harry Potter a friend and teammate. No one in her inner circle doubted him nor did she, however she did have a difficult time comprehending just what that meant. Cedric Diggory was also a friend; like many, seeing his body in the aftermath of the Tri-Wizard Tournament was Katie’s first brush with death. It was evident to the then fifteen year old that only something vile and cruel could take the life of someone like Cedric—someone with so much potential. She jumped at the opportunity to join Dumbledore’s Army for that reason. She believed in the cause and, reflecting on the pain the first war put her own parents through, Katie had to believe there was a reason she wound up here when she did.

Katie genuinely did not believe anything could be more difficult than that period of time, but her seventh year was one of the most challenging of all. Katie was not sure when the trip to Hogsmeade went awry on that beautiful fall day. There was excitement in the air despite the frigid temperature that brought the first snowfall of the season. That is one of the only memory’s Katie holds onto from that day. She later woke up in St. Mungo’s where she was told she had been for six months recovering from a fatal curse.

With a hoarse voice and fear filling her eyes, Katie asked the first healer she saw if she was dead.

The healer laughed as if she made some kind of joke. “ No honey, you’re lucky to be alive. ”

Lucky to be alive.

Except the problem was Katie didn’t feel anything, least of all alive. She spent the last six months in a foreign place, but didn’t feel nearly as lost or confused there as she did now that she was back in the earthly dimension.

The phrase continues to haunt her six years after her near-death experience. Maybe the Healer was right and she should feel lucky, but she doesn’t. Now that the war has come to pass, she is riddled with guilt. She cannot walk away from what happened to her six years ago despite making it out of the war alive. That alone should be enough reason to celebrate, but it is not. There are too many unanswered questions and Katie understands better than most who survived the war that everyone is borrowed time. She cannot unsee the place she spent six months of her life trapped in. She is desperate to understand it and even more desperate to know if the souls of her lost friends now inhabit the same space.

OOC EXPLORATION

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

This group captivated my attention immediately upon discovery. The Trio Era is what originally got me into role-playing Harry Potter and the Marauders is what kept me, so this role-play truly is the perfection combination. I have been looking for a group to join for some time now and your group has one of the freshest and most unique concepts I’ve ever seen! Plus, it is obvious the passion and care that has gone into creating this group. I am excited to potentially be a part of the journey and see where the story takes us all together.

EXTRA FOR NON-BIO CHARACTERS

CHARACTER CONTRIBUTION

Katie possesses a lot of versatility with her character. She naturally has an outgoing and charismatic personality, and is quick at adapting to her surroundings. She has always been an integral part of whatever community she is a part of—ranging from her time at Hogwarts on the quidditch team, in the dueling club, or Dumbledore’s Army; to her career beyond the castle’s walls. She has proved herself a loyal friend to many. I think her experience being cursed by the Opal Necklace makes her an imperative character because she has knowledge from that ordeal others might not be equipped with, which she has channeled into a career within the Ministry of Magic as an Unspeakable.

I headcanon that when Katie was cursed by the necklace during her seventh year, she spent a large portion of her time in St. Mungo’s unconscious. During this period she had an out of body experience where she thought she was dead. She tightly holds onto the secret that she visited what may be known to some as limbo, purgatory, or the underworld out of fear of being labelled crazy. She doesn’t dismiss her experience though; she clings to it, and it to effects every aspect of her life.

Katie’s brush with death made her obsessed with the idea of it. Since the war’s conclusion she has tried to dissect the mechanics of life and death, but had no success. Everyday feels the exact same; she is capped out with little to show for her efforts. That is, until the first of the returned makes their appearance through the veil. This ignites a new obsession in Katie all over again.

PRESENT

“ Have you heard? ” A stocky Unspeakable buzzed with excitement as he pushed passed Katie and exited the elevator lift.

“ Heard what? ” The woman quipped in his direction as she rubbed her tired eyes, but by the time she gathered her senses he was already hurrying off down the corridor. Katie shrugged her shoulders back and dismissed the interaction before continuing along in the same direction. Unusual occurrences were the norm in this part of the Ministry so she didn’t think much of it. She was already getting a late start on her day anyway so she decided to quicken her pace as she rounded the corner leading to her dual office/laboratory, where she was forced to stop abruptly when she came across a throng of other Unspeakables littering the hallway. Katie quirked a brow upon the realization everyone was huddled near the Death Chamber.

“ What is going on? ” She asked the same Unspeakable who she spotted standing nearby.

“ You don’t know? ” Emerson gaped, which annoyed Katie slightly. “ They are saying someone has returned through the veil. ”

“ What do you mean ‘returned through the veil?’ I didn’t realize we were trying to send anyone to the other-side— ”

“ No, someone no longer living returned through the veil. They came back from the dead. ”

“ Impossible, ” Katie uttered in protest, but her own near-death experience quickly replayed in her head. She was only seventeen when she swore she too briefly died, so maybe it wasn’t impossible for the dead to return after all.

“ No really, a boy was found wandering the corridors naked this morning. Creevy is what they’re calling him. ”

Katie stood silent for a moment as she processed what she had just been informed. “ Someone came back to life? Through the veil? ” The witch repeated as her dark eyes swirled with sudden intensity. Emerson merely nodded. “ I sure picked a hell of a day to be late. ” She concluded completely gobsmacked.

“ You won’t make that mistake again, ” Emerson chuckled before disappearing off into the crowd to try and sneak a closer look.

And he was right. From that day forward, Katie was never late again. She always put her best foot forward when it came to her career, but the stakes suddenly felt like they had been raised even higher upon the departed’s return. The one thing she now knows for certain is that this might be the only opportunity she has to find answers to the questions that have been tormenting her for the last six years—and she doesn’t plan on letting this moment pass her by like she did unwittingly the last one.

[a-libra-writes]

Could you do ⛅ 💎 💥 💤 and 🌸 with Aberama Gold? You can delete this if you want to cause idk if I sent this beyond a deadline. And if you do it you can choose one of the emoji, I liked them all lol so I'm fine with whichever one you want. Thank you so much, I love how you write for Aberama so it would mean a lot if you do write the headcanon. Not that I'm trying to guilt trip you into doing it, not my intention at all. I just really live your writing and wouldn't be hurt if you didnt write it.

aaghh sorry i took so long with this!! stupid work grumble grumble save me. I hope u didnt think I deleted it haha, I like Aberama a heckin lot. Glad you like how I write him! OK LETS GO LONG BOI

⛅ Sunset HC

He loves watching the sunset. Once you got to know him, this didn’t seem so strange. As the afternoon began to end, you’d notice him glance toward the sky no matter where you two were, and he’d be a little more distracted if it was an especially clear, beautiful day.

Getting such pretty sunsets wasn’t too common in London,  or any city, which is why he preferred being out in the country. 

Aberama used to think by himself during these times, but he began to like it when you joined him. He’d have you sit on his lap and chat with him - and if that was too embarrassing - at least sit beside him. During the colder months he’d wrap his jacket around you (and probably put the hat on you too, because you’re too cute).

When he’s feeling particularly sentimental, he’ll tell you all about how beautiful you look with the golden and red colors shining on your eyes and skin. He’ll sweet talk you until the moon comes up.

His favorite sunsets are the fiery orange and red ones that are scattered with clouds. To him, they look like a glimpse of heaven... he often thinks these are the only looks he’ll get of that place.

💎 Marriage HC

It was obvious when he was smitten with you, and more obvious that he wanted something more long-term. He’s actually quite a romantic man, in spite of his occupation, and he wanted to make a life with you. He thought you were just perfect.

And yes, he was a bit into the age gap.

Your wedding was modest, but surrounded with family and the reception is lively. Plenty of dancing, drinking, music and laughter, and his family put together a new wagon that was decorated in flowers and vines, just for you. Aberama couldn’t keep you out of his lap or his arms the whole time. 

Depending on your preferences, you either had a small cottage in a village or you stayed with his family in the wagons. Due to his jobs, Aberama would disappear for days at a time, sometimes a week or more. He’d come home, tired and a mess - sometimes injured - but he always gave you a kiss and hug before washing up. He preferred to be clean and in a change of clothes before holding you again.

He doesn’t discuss his jobs with you, period. He doesn’t want you getting tangled up in them, and he’s expressly forbid his men and Bonnie from discussing it with you. Even if it frustrates and worries you, he doesn’t budge on this decision.

If you didn’t know Romani, he’d gradually teach you. Since he wasn’t around all the time, Bonnie and his daughters would help.

He’s very delighted that you get along with his children, especially the younger girls, who don’t remember much of their mother. As much as he’d love children with you, he’d understand if his were more than enough. 

Bonnie sees you as more of an older sister figure than a mother - since he still remembers his mom - but you two still get along great. You’re usually patching him up after a boxing match or cooking him filling food. He’s glad you made his dad happy, but could you two please stop being so sappy in front of him and his friends? Thanks.

Once Tommy meets you and realizes how much Aberama dotes on you, he makes a point to invite you to gatherings together. He hopes you’ll calm the man down or act as a pacifying presence. It ... sort of works. While he is in a better mood with you on his arm, he’s also far more likely to bash the teeth out of any man who disrespects you.

He’ll bash the teeth out of his own men if they dare the same thing, and that’s if they’re lucky. Bonnie doesn’t tell you, but he’s seen his father send more than one man to a ditch for insulting you and your family (especially if you were non-Romani).

No matter what, he’d be protective of you, but it would happen behind the scenes. He wouldn’t want you to feel like he was being possessive or suffocating, so he’ll have a guard or two quietly watch your home when he’ s away, and he’ll deal with the before mentioned troublesome men on his own.

This has led to situations where you go to him in a panic, saying a strange man has been following you and standing around the house. He grabs his gun and investigates and ... it’s one of his idiots. “Be more careful, would you? Just go the fuck home, I’m here anyway.” 

When he comes back he acts like he chased off some scary robber and you play along and give him plenty of kisses.

Basically, you two have a very loving, sappy marriage that makes people forget he’s one of the deadliest guns-for-hire in England. 

💤 Napping HC

Aberama hardly ever naps, but he can fall asleep anywhere. You have no idea how he does it. He can do sitting in a horse, leaning against a wall or standing up. 

His “technical” naps are when he gets back from a job in the middle of the afternoon. He’d been up for days at that point, and he collapses on the couch and tells you he’s just going to rest his eyes for a few moments. You eventually gently wake him.

Still, he much prefers to fall asleep next to you. After staying up for an ungodly amount of time, he’ll let you drag him to bed, only if you promise to lie down by his side. 

When he sleeps, he reminds you of a cat with how he tucks his head down and curls into himself. Often his face twitches with expressions, but only for a moment.

💥First Fight / Making up HC

Your first fight is also what your subsequent fights and squabbles have been about: The danger of his jobs, and what little you know about them. Aberama wouldn’t give in, curtly telling you there was zero reason for you to be involved.

You knew about these “jobs” while he courted you, and you didn’t delude yourself into thinking he’d stop after you married. But this time he came home with two bullet wounds, and he was gone for two weeks. Couldn’t he at least have sent a man to tell you he was alright? Or where he was? That he was hurt? At least that?

Aberama just dismissed you, which he so rarely did, as he was just as tired and frustrated... Not to mention the wounds. He hoped in the morning, you’d understand, and both your moods would be better.

It wasn’t. You were still pissed, so he left, insisting he’d be back.

You fumed, but began to worry. What if you were too harsh, especially since he was in such bad shape? Maybe he didn’t want to worry you, or maybe someone was on his trail and he didn’t want anything coming back to you. He always kept you and his daughters out of his messes. Maybe ...

Your mind began to race, and you were feeling frustrated and emotional all over again. You decided to go look for him, it wouldn’t be hard. Right as you opened the door, Aberama was walking up to the doorstep. He had bought your favorite flowers and he quickly pulled you into an embrace. 

While he still thought he was doing what was best for your safety, he understood your worry and recognized he was dismissing your concerns. He said all this, giving you plenty of kisses and apologies.

He wanted to make love to you to show you how truly sorry he was but those bullet wounds were kind of, you know, painful as all hell. Aberama was still gonna go for it but you insisted “cuddles until that’s healed”.

🌸Kissing HC

There’s no such thing as chaste kisses or pecks unless he’s truly in a hurry. He feels so much for you that those just seem inadequate displays of affection.

Whenever he kisses you, he wants to properly show his love, although it never does seem like enough. He’ll hold the small of your back and bring you closer, because you always have to be close when he does this. If there’s not many people around, or better - none - he’ll start at your neck and work his way to your lips.

The kisses on your lips are always deep, and you feel yourself pressing back against him. If he has to say goodbye, he’ll make sure it’s longer, and he’ll promptly kiss your cheek and promise to be back soon.

Even when you’re just parting for a few hours while he goes to the boxing ring or you leave to town, he’ll pull you into his embrace and give you a firm kiss. “Behave yourself, dear.”  “Aberama, I always tell you that.”

It’s kind of nauseating to anyone who watches, Bonnie has long learned to just walk away 

To be sure, it’s very jarring for some of his men to see their terrifying boss turn to his wife, give her a sweet kiss, then turn to them with a sharp gleam in his eye, like he’s daring them to say something.

At home, he often gives you stray kisses on your neck, your cheek, your hand, whatever suits his whims at the time. In bed, even if you aren’t making love, he wants to give you several kisses goodnight. When he walks into the house and you’re already asleep, he’ll give gentle kisses that won’t make you stir. He hopes you can feel them in your dreams.

[sweetestrequiems]

You Are Not Alone

Request by: @boombiotch! Thank you for the request! <3 Prompt: 45) "You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child."

Character(s): Jane Seymour / Katherine Howard (Other Queens are mentioned, but are not the focus. They come in at the end of this.)

Summary: Katherine has not been having an easy time the last few nights. A lot of her memories of her past life tend to surface as night terrors and other bouts of depression. On one certain night, Katherine sneaks on outside of the house and heads to a park to sit alone. A worried Jane calls her after seeing her door’s been left open, and heads over to the park to comfort the young queen.

TW: Mentions of Nightmares/Night Terrors. Mentions of Howard’s beheading. Mentions of Seymour’s death, and the loss of her son. There’s like... a few instances of strong/mature language.

A/N: I hope you enjoy it! This was very fun from my brain to the keyboard of my laptop. I love the mother/daughter dynamic that the Queendom has created between Howard and Seymour, and I’m very happy I was finally given the opportunity to write it. The German in this was checked by my German friend, and he made sure it was accurate. I double-checked the one Spanish phrase myself, since I speak Spanish. Everything should be accurate in terms of other languages.

––––––––––

Most nights, the Tudor house was extremely quiet, with the exception of the occasional grunt of frustration from Catherine Parr’s nightly habit of staying up and writing until she got angry that she couldn’t deal with it anymore, or Katherine Howard knocking at one of the doors of the queens due to a nightmare.

This was not one of those nights.

Katherine Howard had found herself sliding into the hoodie she stole from her cousin, before pocketing her phone and silently trying to step through the house. It was a good thing she was both small and quiet. Grabbing one of the sets of keys that probably belonged to Catherine of Aragon (due to the cross keychain.), the brunette opened up and closed the front door after having paced to it, making sure to not leave evidence that she had gone outside for a nightly stroll.

Yes, a nightly stroll at 2:30 am. That totally wasn’t weird to begin with.

Pocketing the keys, Katherine let out a heavy exhale. “I don’t get it. What have I been doing wrong? I’ve been journaling, going to therapy as recommended... I really don’t understand.” The youngest queen shook her head as she walked on down the sidewalk. It was a quiet night outside, not much bustle in the street. As weird as it was, she did enjoy the city sounds. The quiet was a little odd, but she wasn’t going to complain. There were very few nights where she needed quiet, and this was one of those said nights. “I guess this is better than waking up from seeing that scaffold...”

478 years since she last stood at the Tower of London’s grounds. 478 years since she shook from the horrid anxiety and waiting of the ax. 478 years since she had lived such a morbid pain. But every subsequent night after she had woken up in the new body was nothing but a nightmare about her beheading.

The scar on her neck, which was covered by the hoodie, started to burn a little.

Clutching onto her chest for a moment, the young queen paused her walk to look around. Very few people seemed to be up this late. Even better for her. It was a luxury to Howard that she had a small, local park so close to her. Taking a deep breath, she started up her walk again, just to find herself sitting down ten minutes later. A bit of a walk for fifteen minutes, but she was not going to complain when she could have just her own alone time. Although, alone time–– with her thoughts going back constantly to her childhood and untimely death in the mid 1500′s–– was not going to help her at all.

––––––––––

Jane Seymour had gotten out of bed by the time Katherine was maybe ten minutes into her walk. Originally, she was going to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and then return to bed. But the silence of the house was really bothering her, until she heard an angry Catherine Parr groan in utter frustration, “God damn it, Cathy!” towards herself. Raising her eyebrows, she figured that nothing was to be worried about. But a blink of the eye later, and a certain glimmer caught the woman’s eye. 

“Kitty?”

The door to Howard’s room was ajar, which was out of character for the queen in pink. Instead of going to the kitchen, the blonde queen approached the door, and knocked on it, for the door to only open up into the room. The fairy lights were still on and everything, but the bed was empty, and the choker with a K was on the nightstand. This was probably the only time Jane Seymour had ever audibly cursed and heard herself in the silence. 

“Fuck.” And that word coming from Jane was odd to begin with.

The third queen gently closed the door, and briskly paced to her room. She had to pick up her phone and call Howard. She needed answers. 

“Please pick up, please pick up...” The muttering from Jane was heard on the other end as Katherine had taken the buzzing phone out of her pockets and brought it up to her ear after answering. “Jane?” The voice on the other end brought her comfort. “Kitty! Kitty, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just left to take a walk. I’m in the park, just sitting on a ben––”

“Don’t move your little tail, Katherine Howard. I am on my way.”

“Jane, I’m––” The conversation was cut short. Katherine just stared at her lockscreen. A picture of her and Anne. “––okay.”

Did Jane Seymour care that she was in pajamas? Absolutely not. She just grabbed a coat from her closet and slid her shoes on. She was going to find Katherine Howard, and she was going to bring her back home. Exiting the room and grabbing her set of keys, the front door to the house opened and closed a little louder than she expected it to. The sudden noise got Catherine Parr’s attention, and forced the woman to get up from her desk.

––––––––––

“Kitty? Kitty!” The blonde woman started to call out after having driven to the park, and parked nearby on the side of the street. “Kitty!” Worry was mixed into Jane’s calls for Katherine. She always walked with a purpose, but there was shaking with Jane’s steps tonight. That’s when out of the corner of her eye, she saw the bright green hoodie, and the bright pink hair to contrast it. There she was. Almost running over, and stumbling a bit when she was in front of the young queen, Seymour pulled Howard up into a tight embrace. “I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Melting into the embrace, Howard just tightly returned the hug. She was glad that she could call Jane “Mum”.

Wrapping an arm around the girl, Jane held her close as the two slowly began their paces to the car. “What’s going on, Kitty? Why are you out so late?” The feeling of Katherine’s shoulders tensing up made Jane pause right in her tracks. “Katherine? Love, it’s okay. You can talk to me.”

“It’s just––” Her voice cuts off. A sniffle. “I’m tired of it, mum. I’m tired of the nightmares! I’m tired of the pain. I’m tired of seeing my beheading every other night. I’m tired of feeling my neck burn like crazy sometimes, even when we do shows! It hurts, Jane. It hurts...” Katherine turned to face Jane and bury her face into the woman’s shoulder with a tight hug. There was some shaking. The poor girl was crying.

The queen in grey couldn’t really relate, but she knew how she could. “It’s okay, love. It's okay,” she held on to Katherine as tight as possible, her own blue eyes watering up just a little. “I know the nightmares hurt. I know... they’re difficult. I have them too. I wake up sick every morning from them. Like you, I see what happened to me. I get the constant reminder I could never hold Edward in my arms.” A slight crack. Although she was a steadfast queen that sung about having a heart of stone... she cracked sometimes. Sometimes, she couldn’t have the heart of stone she so graciously sung about.

“You’re not alone, Kitty. You won’t be. I’ll take care of you.”

A sniffle, and a nod.

“Do you want to know why?”

Another nod. Katherine Howard made herself look up, with tear-filled eyes and a quivering lip.

“Because even though you’re an adult, you’re always going to be my child. You’ll always be my daughter. I will keep you safe. I will do whatever I can to make sure––” a sniffle from Jane. Katherine finally got to see the reddening cheeks, nose, and eyes of the older queen. “––you’re happy. We’re family, Katherine. You are not alone.” With a hitched breath, Jane moved a few stray hairs out of Katherine’s face and gave her a soft and tender kiss to the center of her forehead.

Safe to say, Jane Seymour just tightly held on to Katherine Howard in a very protective embrace, with silent tears flowing from her eyes.

––––––––––

3:25 am.

The remaining four queens in the house were all congregated in the living room. Anne Boleyn was hugging a pillow, evident that she was definitely still sleepy. Catherine Parr was wide awake, staring at the door with her hands interlocked in front of her face. Catherine of Aragon was quietly muttering a prayer, just hoping the two would come back. Anna of Cleves, like Parr, was staring at the door and waiting for the other two to come back.

“Do you think they’re okay?” A sleepy Boleyn yawns out.

“I hope so,” both Cleves and Parr had simultaneously spoken without even planning it. The two looked at each other, grinned, nodded, and then went back to looking at the door.

“Oye! Ya, por favor. Dejen de hablar, me tienen nerviosa con sus voces,” Aragon shot them a sharp look. She was tired. “You’re going to drive me insane with the talking. I would like to hear––”

The door opens. Howard and Seymour both freeze in their places when they see the other queens waiting for them.

“Hi...” “I’m surprised most of you are awake. I say most, because of Cathy.”

Parr furrowed her eyebrows, but then shrugged it off. “Hey, let a woman write in peace.”

“Wir haben uns schon Sorgen gemacht, meine Damen! You two just upped and disappeared,” the German queen stood up, and opened up her arms. Katherine was quick to go and accept the hug. “Where did you two go, anyways? It’s unlike either of you to disappear so... quickly and suddenly. Especially you, Jane. “

“Kitty left to go to the park. I went to follow her and make sure she was okay. She just needed reassurance, is all.”

“Meine liebe, is this true? Es ist fast 4 Uhr morgens,” Cleves furrowed her eyebrows, the concern in her facial expression. The young queen just nodded.

“Jane, are you okay? You look pretty rough,” Aragon nudged Boleyn to get up, and slide over a little so the third queen could sit down. Seymour just sighed, not really sure of what to say. “It’s been a long night. One long night and––” “You don’t have to tell us twice. Like damn, Cathy went into an uproar when she saw Kitty’s room empty, and even more of an uproar when your room was empty. She would’ve raised hell had Aragon not told her to calm down,” Boleyn just held on to the pillow, yawning a few moments after the last word of that sentence.

––––––––––

4:00 am.

The other queens had managed to help Jane calm Katherine down enough to go back to bed. And in fact, they were all in bed at this point, except Katherine and Jane. A knock at Jane’s door made the woman stand up and open the door.

“Can I sleep in here?”

“Come on, dearie.”

There was a good ending to that night. As Jane began to fall asleep while holding on to Katherine, she could hear the young queen’s voice mutter something out. And considering Katherine was asleep, it almost made Jane cry from the amount of love she was feeling from the girl. “I love you, mum.” Leaving one last kiss on her forehead, Jane just smiled and let her eyes close. She responded with just a few words.

“I love you too, poppet.”

[duckbeater]

Courtship, pt. 2

Writing about happiness is very difficult and boring. The below are some small attempts I’ve made to write through my happiness. My small, important readership deserves an update, says my brother, whose sensibilities have only rarely steered me catastrophically wrong.

I AM BUYING CHAMPAGNE TO CELEBRATE MY LOVER

Today’s the last day of his job and he’s throwing himself a little party. In September he begins med school and in the next month he’ll put his affairs in order, readying for the big move. I have the sense that tonight begins our diminuendo, despite his staying over last night and spit-fucking me, and I’ll surely stay over tonight, after the many champagne toasts to his prosperous life ahead. 

We’ve started sleeping as two spoons embracing chest to chest, with our faces tucked awkwardly in a neck or an armpit. Of course I wake up gasping, my mouth sucking after a less hot pocket of air, and turn, and enjoy that he pulls me tightly back to him. He’s a heavy sleeper and I’m a light sleeper, and our bedding situation resembles something like a rock in a tumbler with my rolling over and over and over again, arising too early, wildly underslept, shining with sweat, but ecstatic that we’ve touched all night long. I’m attending his celebration in a sleep deficit that I’ve covered with caffeine and a long, soulful run beside the lake. I’ve been thinking about us a lot. 

He wouldn’t call himself my lover, I think, but I’m hoping the expensiveness of the champagne I’m bringing will convince friends in attendance that that’s what we are. I’m hoping my largesse goes noticed and commented on—that it’s interpreted as my being in love with him, and that his peers compel him, by either fretting over my largesse, or pitying me for it, or anyway finding it impressive or amusing or tender or charming—that they tell this young man I’m adoring him and I’m adoring him well. That my adoration seems steadfast and considered. And despite the riskiness of the circumstances (our differences in age, the widening gulf in distance, a sometimes depleting lack of shared cultural references), when we are together I feel comfort and joy. This must be obvious to him without the expensive champagne. I’m always saying it out loud, or anyway variants on the theme of “comfort and joy,” like a seasonal blessing, a profusion of blessings, needing remarked upon. I’m seriously afraid I mother him.

“Let us take in the scene,” I have said before, “let us only observe for the moment my sitting in your lap, your hands on my neck, my constant kisses. What joy!”

He’s done something to my sense of my proportion, and also my prose style. I can’t seem to describe our relationship without slipping into the sardonic, recursive, mildly-institutionalized voice of Robert Walser, a writer I find too cute by half. I’m finding my life too cute by half, I fear. If this is what happiness feels like, I don’t really want much more of it. It’s making me stupid. “People will think that pain has made you stupid,” wrote Walser, a statement that comes back to me when I can’t distinguish between the good times and bad times making me an idiot.

AFTER THE SPIT-FUCKING

We stayed up late talking about what it means to say goodbye to people who don’t know you’ve cared for them. I don’t pretend this conversation had subtext. For the last two years, he’s worked with profoundly disabled people, first as a case worker and then, after the pandemic closed the campus and made that job “nonessential,” as a nursing assistant on the same floor. 

He spent months feeding, changing, bathing and bedding non-ambulatory children and adults. Most cannot speak, a few cannot see, and none can walk, of course. It is a world I’ve rarely thought about—indeed, a world many of us rarely consider, because in its theater of human need are scenes of unremitting hopelessness. It is a languageless suffering and it perdures. I can become very mystified, very shallow-breathed thinking about his care for these souls, however quick he’s been to dissuade me from romanticizing or elevating his ministrations. “One of my verbal residents tells me to fuck myself all the time,” he’s noted. Still, I would point out that birth defects and accidents account for a small percentage of his caseloads’ impairments, and that active neglect and abuse perpetrated intentionally by former guardians (or unwittingly by the American healthcare complex) have hobbled his charges for life. I don’t like hearing stories about choked babies and toddlers left so long in beds their soft bones grow slab-wise, so I’ve asked him, coward that I am, to please skip origins if he’s entering an otherwise benign workaday anecdote.  

His most patient complaint: using his iPhone to FaceTime parents who want to see their son, then listening to one-sided conversations, burbling, giggles, tears, even story-time. His campus closed to all guardians—a devastating precaution. “Don’t send anything xrated today,” he’d text, and I’d know he was hosting a reunion. So I’d keep my clothes on. And he’d answer the phone from an immediately weeping seventy-year-old mother saying, to her forty-year-old son, “Why good evening, Max, good evening. This is your mother. Hi, baby. Hi. I love you. I am your mother. I will always be your mother. I am sorry I cannot touch you, I cannot hold you, I cannot be with you in this time, but you are my Max, and I am your mother. And I love you always. You can hear me and I’m gonna tell you all about my week, okay? And then I’m gonna ask Scotty here how you’ve spent your week, okay?” He said he usually cries on these calls and when I asked why, he said, “Because it seems polite?” And I pressed harder and he said, “Because I get to—I get to connect these people who have missed each other so much, and it’s so sad. They haven’t touched in months. They might not touch this year. My phone sometimes runs out of battery. It’s so weird.”

I’ve asked him whether families are happy to be rid of their incredible dependents and he said that by and large families are miserable to give over members to the institution: that age arbitrates the giving. “A mother and father have a baby at twenty-five. They can care for him well into their fifties—their twenty-five-year-old, their thirty-year-old son. But when these parents enter their sixties? Their seventies? They can’t lift an adult male. They can’t bathe him or change him. Even basic nutrition gets hard. Meal prep is tiring. It’s long. They start to lose track of medications, and they have medications themselves, you know? So the situation gets very difficult and if they want to live, and if they want him to live, they feel like they have to give him up.”

We’re at the point now where intimacy is a given. He doesn’t swallow, but brings me to orgasm, taking me in his mouth and then dribbles it, I guess, my cum, back onto my stomach, apologizing with a flushed red smirk. “I hate that,” he says, “I really hate it.”

“Go ahead, eat it,” I say, joking.

He gives me dark eyes and showily palms the wad into the black pillowcase behind my head.

“Holy Christ!” I yell. “The nerve! The pluck! The audacity!”

There must be a phase in relationships when extracting intimacies—not only of the “terrible things I did in high school”-vein, or the “times I cheated”-vein, or the “unwittingly right wing ideologies I support”-vein—that close couples endeavor. Where you’re always compulsively revelatory, to seem as interesting as you did in early courtship, as erotically forward and emotionally captivating. We’re in that moment and we surprise one another with small tributes as befits that level of affection.

One of the intimacies I proffered is that I’m going through a religious re-awakening, a need for ritual and sacraments. He finds this funny. (I find it embarrassing.) Yet one of his duties has been wheeling charges to his building’s Tuesday Mass, and then helping to administer the Eucharist. I don’t think he in fact touches the host (I don’t think many in his care can safely take of the host; “I’m mostly there in case anyone seizes,” he said), but he did slip a large wafer away for me and now it’s in my apartment, among my candles, possibly growing mold. He asks me when I’m going to eat it and I tell him around Christmas. 

(That was a lie. I’ll eat it when our romance is over, to consecrate the time we had.)

“I eat it,” I say, and he glowers.

I TOLD HIM ABOUT A MYSTERY SURROUNDING MY FAVORITE AUTHOR

Norman Rush. For a decade and better I’ve wondered about the long dedication in Mating, whose last lines read, “...and to the memory of my father, and to my lost child, Liza.” The novel, set in Botswana and borrowing heavily from Rush’s time there as director in the Peace Corps, suggests that perhaps Liza died in Africa or was born still. She goes unmentioned in his Paris Review interview, in subsequent novels, short stories, and reviews. There’s no hint of Liza’s fate. (As I edit this, I recall a phrase in Mortals, the narrator’s idea that “children exposed you to hellmouth, which was the opening of the mouth of hell right in front of you.” Explaining further: “[I]t was the grandmother, the daughter, the granddaughter tumbling through the air, blown out of the airplane by a bomb, the three generations falling and seeing one another fall, down, down, onto the Argolid mountains. With children you created more thin places in the world for hellmouth to break through.” And then, in Subtle Bodies, Rush describes a wayward teen boy, whose angry and aggressive behavior corresponds exactly to Rush’s own troubled teen son. In fact, Subtle Bodies is about the decision to have children at all. Nina follows Ned to a funeral, to fuck him. So, Rush has indeed remarked on children and strife, as he has lived it. Anyhow—) Yet by accident I listened to an old Fresh Air interview where Rush is asked to comment on the aspect of family in his novels, and to clarify that inscription. 

“I have a daughter who is now thirty,” he says, “who was born with diffuse brain atrophy and has been institutionalized for many years. Um. But I think the rest is pretty self-explanatory.”

“What was her condition?” presses his interlocutor.

“She is uh profoundly retarded,” pauses, “and will be so.”

“So you feel she is lost to you?”

“Yes. There is no recognition possible between her and us.”

I reproduced this exchange from notes on my phone. Scotty replied, “I don’t think that’s right, actually. Maybe between her and—who—who was it?”

“Norman Rush and his daughter Liza.”

He said, “Maybe between Liza and her dad—yeah, maybe she was so disabled she couldn’t recognize him. I take care of men like that. But I recognize them.”

We were talking about important books at all (I mean that semi-seriously) because his co-worker had gifted him three works, including a volume of Yeats’ complete poetry.

“Why did Paco give you Yeats?” I asked.

“He thinks I need more poetry,” said Scotty.

(Frankly I have felt and still feel sexual jealousy against Paco, who recently got brilliant red and black knee tattoos of spider webs. Like, Spider-Man spiderwebs, covering both kneecaps. Every few weeks he cooks a large meal for Scotty, and they talk about life until 4 A.M. drunk on bourbon, immobilized by edibles, full and warm and caring, and it makes me mad. It makes me mad, because I can’t really see the point of staying up until the uncomfortable small hours between 2 and 5 unless there is sex involved, but Paco is straight, a father, an excellent chef, a dedicated friend, and so my grousing is a kind of unwarranted possession that baffles me into silence on the matter.)

I didn’t have anything intelligent left to say about Norman Rush. I groped along a narrow thought, however, a thin ledge. “You know—a novelist, especially a novelist as concerned with language and comprehension as Norman Rush, would feel particularly devastated by the condition of his daughter. He would see it as ironic and then as punitive and again as senseless—supporting his comforting regime of a militant atheism.”

Although very sober, I recited the first stanza of The Second Coming, tripping over two lines (but the best lines), saying, “The worst lack all conviction, while the best/Are full of passionate intensity.”

“What?” said Scotty.

“I just—that was Yeats.”

“Who?”

“Go ahead and tell your boy Paco that your hot fuck gave you a teach on William. Butler. Yeats.”

“What?” said Scotty. He grinned at me. He got up and ate a yogurt.

[howaminotinthestrokesyet]

No Stones Unturned: Keith Richards

Keith Richards’ interest in the guitar began at a very early age due to his grandfather. Gus Dupree had been a jazz musician during the big band era, who actually toured with a group called Gus Dupree and the Boys in Britain. His interest in the guitar began when his grandfather placed the guitar on a shelf out of reach of the young Richards. He made a deal with the young child that if he could reach the guitar, then he could play it. In interviews, Richards talks about using all kinds of boxes, cushions, chairs in order to get that guitar, His grandfather began to teach him very basic guitar lessons. The first song that he ever learned was “Malagueña,” a Spanish song. He was able to keep the guitar, but his father a war veteran who have been injured at Normandy did not share his son’s musical enthusiasm. Speaking of his father, upon his death Richards was given his ashes, which led to another humorous story about the guitarist. He said in an interview that he actually smoked his father‘s ashes.

Keith Richards attended Wentworth Primary School until 1954 with fellow classmate Mick Jagger. He also lived as his neighbor until family moves separated the two. The pair met again by chance years later on a train when Richards admired an album Jagger was holding. At the time, the latter attended the London School of Economics. He had sent away for Muddy Waters and Chuck Berry albums by mail to Chess Records in Chicago. They immediately bonded over their love of music. Soon after, they formed a band with mutual acquaintance Dick Taylor called Little Boy Blue. A few years ago, a recording for that very short-lived group was discovered and eventually put up for auction. An anonymous person purchased the recording, who turned out to be none other than Mick Jagger. The band folded when Brian Jones approached Mick Jagger about joining his blues group. This led Jagger to bring Richards along to the Bricklayer’s Pub to meet anyone else interested. Here they met Ian Stuart. The Rolling Stones were officially formed.

As previously discussed, a couple of key observations can be made about Richards and the band. First of all, unlike other bands that revolve around the rhythm of the drummer, the Rolling Stones has their tempo always set by Richards. They look to him in order to determine how fast or how slow they should be playing. On stage, this makes him more of the unquestioned leader as far as the music goes. Off stage, that role has alternated between him and Jagger, but now the singer runs everything. The other thing to be noted is that just like Ron Wood and Brian Jones each guitarist like Richards plays both rhythm and lead sometimes within the same song. This guitar weaving was developed by him and Brian Jones, but it is the talent of Richards that allows this to work so seamlessly. Actually, if you were describe his guitar playing overall you would notice that it stands out as in no way flamboyant or showing off. His solos get right to the heart of the matter, but you never see him venture off like his contemporaries Jimmy Page or Eric Clapton. Another quality of his guitar playing emerges in the acoustic guitar. He believe that playing acoustic was the key to maintaining his excellence as a guitar player. Certain songs like “Street Fighting Man” and “Jumpin’ Jack Flash” were actually originally recorded with acoustic guitar, then placed in a tape recorder and overdubbed using a louder speaker. In 1967-1968, he began to experiment with what are called open tunings. I will try not to get too technical here, but his inspiration for it was how a banjo is tuned. This became a trademark of the guitar sound in later years most notably the 1970’s like “Honky Tonk Women.” Vocally, Richards has sung on almost every Rolling Stones studio album with background vocals. He is also occasionally sung tracks on his own with the most notable one being “Happy” on Exile on Main Street in 1972. The song entered the regular concert set list, which led the band to have Richards sing one or two songs at every concert from then on. Another notable track was on Voodoo Lounge entitled “The Worst.” At a young age, As a student he stood out as an excellent singer in the choir, but when adolescence hit his voice changed, which led him to concentrate more on guitar from then on.

Jagger and Richards began their songwriting collaboration beginning with Andrew Oldham Loog coming on board as their manager. Coincidently, it was Oldham that told Richards to drop the S from his name for a time. A few years later he would add it back. Their first top ten hit was actually not for the band, but Gene Pitney. Another hit was “As Tears Go By” featuring Marianne Faithfull. Their first hit featuring the band emerged with “The Last Time” in 1965. Their major breakthrough came with the song “Satisfaction,” which included a famous riff Richards would later say came to him in his sleep. One of the qualities of their songwriting comes in the sheer variety including r and b, folk, reggae, disco, psychedelic, country, funk, and punk. Unlike other bands of the era, as popular music changed, so did The Rolling Stones. The basic process of the pair actually writing a song usually started with Keith producing the first chords and harmony. Mick would then complete the song with lyrics and a bridge. For the longest time, Mick would have to wait for Keith to create the music before he could start in on the track. This became the case with the recording of Exile on Main Street as he alternated between music and shooting up heroin.

Keith Richards has been active as a producer for the better part of his career, as well. Since 1974, he and Jagger have been credited as the producers of every studio album the band has made. The duo also has contributed as a producer for other artists working alongside other producers. For those albums, the pair are usually listed as the Glimmer Twins, which writers will sometimes refer to them in general. Some of the notable artists that Richards has produced for include Aretha Franklin, Ronnie Spector, Johnny Johnson, and a band signed to their record label, Kracker. In 1987, Richards formed the band the X-Pensive Winos as a solo project, which led to the release of the album, Talk Is Cheap. The album would go on to attain a gold status, and it still sells consistently to this day. The reason for the solo project came about because at the time of Jagger was increasingly interested in pursuing a solo album. This stood out as a time referred to in the band as World War III as Jager and Richards had a monumental fight in endangering the very existence of the band. An interesting sidenote to all of this was the band first originated for the Chuck Berry tribute film, Hail Hail Rock ‘n’ Roll. They would release a second album in 1992 entitled, Main Offender, while Richard‘s most recent release as a solo artist came in 2015, Crosseyed Heart.

As popular culture can attest, Richards has a reputation well deserved for his drug use. The interesting thing about it is that he fundamentally embraces that reputation. He has been arrested on drug busts at least five times throughout his career. The most famous one being at his Redlands estate in England in 1967 along with Mick Jagger. The bust cemented the reputation as the bad boys of rock and roll as well. Surprisingly or perhaps not, he has only served time in jail for the first bust. He was subsequently arrested twice in 1973, 1977, and 1978. Yet, one must know that for the Redlands arrest, which in retrospect was completely overblown by the authorities and the media; he only served one day in jail. As previously noted, he was arrested in Toronto in 1977 for heroin possession. At the time, they were planned to charge him with trafficking, which represented a fairly serious charge. His visa was confiscated, so Richards had to remain in Toronto for at least two months until the case came to trial. Thankfully for the guitarist the charge was reduced to possession. He was finally allowed to leave Canada to travel to United States on a medical visa in order to be treated for heroin addiction. For the most part, his use of heroin has always been the number one contributing factor to his legal problems. This final bust was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back when it came to his heroin use. The legal troubles from this caused such an inconvenience in his life along with court ordered heroin addiction treatment led him to being able to stay clean since 1978. Since that time, he has only used cannabis and alcohol, but never in moderation at times because that would just not be his style.

As previously stated, his decision to get clean in 1978 led to the end of his relationship with Anita Pallenberg. As that relationship was going downhill, he met model Patti Hansen in 1978, who the guitarist would marry in 1983. They have two daughters together born in 1985 and 1986. He wrote a children’s book about his grandfather introducing him to the guitar co-written by one of his daughters, Theodora in 2014. Her participation in the project made it all the more meaningful because she was actually named for the grandfather.

Actor Johnny Depp, who played Captain Jack Sparrow in the popular Pirates of the Caribbean film franchise previously stated that Richards was partially the inspiration for the character. He utilized a few of his mannerisms for the films. As life will sometimes meet art, the Rolling Stones guitarist actually appeared in the third and fourth films of the franchise. The name of his character was Captain Edward Teague. Coincidently, the other influence Depp used for the character was the Warner Bros. cartoon, Pepe Le Pew. These influences that were mentioned by Depp did raise concerns among Disney executives at first because they did not represent the wholesome image of their brand.

Growing up, Keith Richards was hugely influenced by a few notable artists. One of the first emerged in Elvis Presley in the mid-1950’s. The interesting thing about his admiration for Elvis came in the fact that Presley‘s guitarist Scotty Moore was probably much more influential than the king himself. Richards has stated previously that he listened to Elvis records more for the band, not just the singer. The second influence was Chuck Berry, who he later performed on the same bill with early in his career. This led to a funny story looking back, but maybe not so funny at the time. The Rolling Stones guitarist had picked up Berry’s guitar while he was out of the room. Berry came back seeing Richards holding his guitar, then promptly punched him in the face. He told him that nobody ever touches his guitar. Years later Richards would participate in the Chuck Berry tribute film Hail Hail Rock ‘n’ Roll, so time had healed those wounds apparently. The final influence emerged in many of the blues artists of the day, but if you had to name one it would have been Muddy Waters. The famed blues musician emerged as a giant influence on the band from creating their name to the music that they played. Richards played live with him a few times leading to a lifelong friendship. In 1982, in a BBC interview he was asked if the Rolling Stones could keep going for another 20 years. He answered that it is entirely possible using the example of Muddy Waters still performing and looking vibrant on stage at 80.

Keith Richards currently has three residences including ones in England, Connecticut, and Jamaica. The residence in England is actually the same house, the Redlands estate, where he and Mick Jagger were arrested for drugs in 1967. At home, his favorite dish to eat is shepherd’s pie. In his 2010 autobiography, he actually devoted a paragraph on the best way to cook this very British dish. The drummer from the band, the Stereophonics, once told a story that he had accidentally eaten some shepherd’s pie meant for Richards. He was immediately confronted by him, but no punches were thrown. If the guitarist is not working on any music, one thing that may surprise some people comes in the fact that he likes to read books. Although he never attended college, Richards reads quite a bit with a preference for history. He would say in an interview that if he had not become a musician, then he probably would have been a librarian. During his days of using heroin, he once said that he really regretted the fact that it prevented him from doing things like going to a movie or reading a book. Funny guy.

[xxrainbow-princessxx]

Happy international women’s day

🥰

To all those strong, powerful women out there!

@lorirwritesfanfic @hopefulmoonobject @drakewalkerfantasy @desireepow-1986

Today was important. Today was Isabella’s first Royal engagement since her Coronation. At 27, she was one of the youngest reigning monarchs in Europe but used her platform utilise her full potential. She knew every inch of her would be scrutinised today, from a flyaway curl to the height of her heels but she was determined to set the record straight. How did she want history to remember their reign by? Jimena squinted her eyes with uncertainty as she watched Isabella adding her bold red lipstick “Bella... are you sure you want to?” Isabella turned her head, a mass of curls fell over her shoulders, her dark chocolate brown eyes smouldered under layers of kohl and mascara, “Yes... I am sure...” Moving forward, Jimena held her binders towards her chest, “It’s not very...” she took a deep breath knowing full well what Isabella would say next, but she had to speak her mind, “...regal...” Instead of shouting, instead of her temper getting the best of her, Isabella pouted her lips before giving one of her longest friends and confidantes a beaming smile, “It’s time to change the narrative...” before closing the lid of her lipstick shut with the faint sound of a click.

As noble families across Europe and invited guests from Laurentia were ushered across the red carpet in their best finery, Leo and the twin Princesses followed suit. He in his Royal tuxedo and the girls both in matching pale yellow dresses. “Your Majesty, King Leo?!” The media teams voices filled the room, the press screaming for him and the girls to give them their shot, shoving microphones towards him for a snippet “Where’s Queen Isabella?” Leo began to chuckle as he held the girls closely to him, protecting them from the ever encroaching cameras. His grin was mischievous as he answered, “She doesn’t need me anymore! She’s a big girl, I’m sure the Queen can manage quite easily by herself...” The press waited patiently for Isabella to arrive, however there was no sign of her on the red carpet. It wasn’t like her to miss a media opportunity. As the Laurentian Royal family’s staff closed off the entrance, the press were escorted into the main ballroom and like all those there in attendance; they waited for what was to come next.

Isabella casually strolled out from behind the curtain, no pomp or circumstance; no announcement of her arrival - the only sounds were hushing tones of the crowd to which she waited patiently for the sound to diminish as she stood in front of the podium. Isabella fluttered her long dark eyelashes, inhaling deeply as she smiled warmly to all in attendance. She could hear the sounds of those whispering around her as she took the microphone from its stand, stepping to the left of the podium in her five inch gold metallic sandals and there she stood in a fitted buttoned jacket, skinny jeans and a plain white t-shirt tucked in at the waist. No jewels, no crown except for the pair of diamond earrings she wore that belonged to the Queen Mother. Isabella’s dark chocolate brown eyes looked across to Leo and their girls as she tucked one side of her hair behind her left ear before she began to speak. “Today is one of many firsts for me...” putting her left hand into her pocket, Isabella began to pace back and forth casually, bringing informality to a once extraordinarily formal world.

“I stand here in place of my mother and my father as the first Crown Princess to rule; I stand here as a reigning monarch over our wonderful kingdom... to which we call home. Today is also my first Royal engagement since becoming monarch and symbolically, I have chosen to celebrate this on International Women’s Day...” she began to giggle, “You may question how I am dressed, you may feel that this is not appropriate, but this is how I dress each day and I intend to be true and comfortable in my own self. Today is important also because I want our women and men in society to know that gender equality is one that is not earned, but a birth right for all. I want our kingdom to exemplify kindness to everyone; including our neighbours at home or abroad to help those in need where we can. We want our young people to become empowered through free education; to become the best they can be with fair pay schemes to all. One should receive equal pay regardless of what anatomy you may possess... this will also follow suit with noble families and titles, to which the law will be subsequently changed to ensure that titles and land will fall to the first born, not just the first male heir. We need to move with the times...”

Isabella scrunched her nose as she smiled hearing some of those gasp knowing she may ruffle a few feathers of the avant-guard but she continued, “We must celebrate innovation and education and not how we present ourselves to the world with fakery and trying to change ourselves to fit a select narrative. It’s ok to be you... It took me a very long time to understand that in a male dominated world and I have been guilty of it many times myself; but behind this facade, is a young woman who would rather sit with a book, enjoying time with her family than trying to present myself as something I am not. As we move forward with this next chapter in our Kingdom’s history - I want us all to take a moment to celebrate those wonderful, strong, determined women and men in our lives who have helped us become who we are today... “ Placing her hand against her chest, Isabella continued, “I want to personally thank those many men and women in our kingdom who strive for our better future, my mother for making me the determined person I am today; my father for always pushing me to be my best, my daughters for teaching me so much more about the world from their own innocent eyes...” pausing, her smile slowly became a beaming grin as her eyes locked with Leo’s who sat back proudly watching his wife, “and lastly I want to thank my husband for reminding me that everything and anything can be possible. He is my partner and my equal...”

Bowing to the crowd in front of her, Isabella’s mass of curls bounced as she gracefully concluded, “Please everyone enjoy the rest of today and I hope that we all can share in a positive future...” Not stopping for questions, Isabella switched off the microphone with her long ruby red nails and immediately walked forward bringing her family into her embrace as the crowd clapped. As Leo kissed the crown of her head, Isabella unbuttoned her jacket that carefully disguised her small but perfectly formed little bump; she and Leo didn’t care to announce it to the world in a formal speech or a tabloid story. Their world was finally on their terms; if people noticed, they noticed - being just over the twelve week mark, Isabella and Leo enjoyed having their own little secret for a while. Reaching up onto her tiptoes, Isabella gently placed her lips onto Leo’s as she smiled whispering, “I love you” against his. Whilst the media began to congregate, taking pictures of the Royal family, Leo placed a protective arm around his wife’s waist, holding her close to him never feeling more proud of her as he did today. “You were amazing beautiful...” he quietly murmured to her as the camera flashes lit up their surroundings, never taking his eyes off of her, smiling as he knew Isabella was finally becoming the person he always knew she could be.

❤️

[cheddar-the-dog]

tell me again (about how it hurts)

read on ao3

it’s Rosa’s first thanksgiving after coming out to her parents - it’s very angst loaded and centers mostly on Rosa’s journey of it all. written for the fall fic exchange on tumblr for @exploding-snapple: I chose the prompt “Rosa's first Thanksgiving with her family (including her two sisters and their kids) since coming out“ and combined it with Rosa’s and Amy’s friendship because they’re the sleuth sisters!Thank you to @b99fandomevents for organizing the Fall Fic Exchange! You’re doing great! And thank you to @meepmorpperaltiago @enigmatic-b1tch @b99peraltiago and @darkrosemind for being so patient with me and my insecurities.

Now that we have that out of the way:

I really hope you enjoy it!

“Coming out feels like you have no space to rest but everything around you is a bed. It is to watch your loved ones mistake the flowers on your tongue for high-power blades. And nothing you say will make the cuts heal faster but saying nothing, saying nothing will mean the cut stays a cut. Bloodstains the shape of mouths that will spell acceptance only as long as it is another’s daughter. My coming out was an apology repeating itself endlessly until it found out there was no forgiveness.” - Swastika Jajoo

When you got the text from your sister, asking if you’re going to be coming home this weekend for Thanksgiving you froze. For a second there, you stopped breathing and tried to push down the anxiety that rose at the thought of having to go back home. It made you sick but so did it from the first year you moved out. (Ever since you can remember really.)

[[MORE]]

Returning home for Thanksgiving always goes something along the lines of: all your family there and everyone is asking you if you found a good guy yet. Seeing your sisters happily married with their husbands and all their children prancing about. Viewing the whole house as their playground, running around without a sorrow on their mind. Without care or concern for the world around them. And then there’s always been you: alone, different, isolated, alien. Always feeling out of place in the house, in a world, that once had been your playground.

You shuddered at the thought of returning home after what had happened only a few months prior: the restaurant and the shouting, family game night, more shouting (and shouting and shouting and shouting), your father coming to your work to apologize, your mother--

And once upon-a-time-family-game-nights.

And god, the tears. Tears over tears over tears. Your mother’s words burning hot like acid on your skin. A constant reminder that maybe you truly are unloved. That maybe you don’t deserve the love of your family after all.

You always dreaded any family gathering for that matter. The thought of having to hide who you are in front of the people that were supposed to know you since the beginning of time was just-- your family never talked much about anything anyway but this, this always felt different. In an unexplainable gut wrenching way. It makes you sick to your stomach.

And in that moment you just wanted to throw your phone against the wall, scream and hide and cry (no, you don’t cry) and get drunk on tequila by yourself, then get on your motorbike and drive until there’s nowhere to go anymore. Maybe, you thought, you’d discover the end of the world. Maybe you’d just find happiness. Maybe you’d finally find peace. (Maybe you’d cry silent tears when no one else would be around for miles and miles. And maybe your tears wouldn’t be as silent as you made it out in your head. Maybe you’d scream all the pain away.)

You came out to your sisters just after you did to your parents. Since you got out of prison, after being wrongly convicted, it was your thing to meet at least once a month at your older sister’s home to catch up. Your sisters’ thing anyway. They started doing it years and years back.

You remember how anxious you were to introduce them to Alicia, still not ready to do it on your own. To sit across your family and let them in on your deepest, darkest secret. You relive how the anxiety rose at the thought of telling them: “I’m bi and this my girlfriend” and when you did just that you instantly felt like running and running and hiding and cutting off contact with everyone and vanishing from the face of the earth. You recall Alicia’s soft fingertips on the back of your hand, softly caressing it in circular motions. Remember the warm embrace of your older sister, how you were pulled close by her and how the pad of a thumb softly wiped a tear away from your cheek. How you were embraced by the familiar smell of being safe.

Sometimes you still regret being such a closed off person but it had always been easier this way.

“There’s no need to cry, Rosalita”, she’d said “it’s okay. It’s all okay”, followed by the confession that their mother already called to tell them and that they got into a fight over it because it was not their mother’s place to go around and tell everyone about your life.

Followed by another hug.

Followed by the admission that you had already come out to her when you were sixteen and had to be picked up from a house party for the first time. You had been drunk and crying all the way home and when you were asked why there were tears streaming down your face all you could say and repeat was “I’m bi and I know it’s wrong but I don’t know how to stop it, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry” before throwing up on your front lawn and then passing out as soon as you got into your bed.

Your face had gone red instantly because you remembered that night vividly: sneaking off and getting drunk out of your mind because you realized you fell for your best friend. Hard. Her luscious blonde hair and red lips. Her smile. The way she carried herself. You later on found out that she was falling for you as well. But then you graduated and moved to different parts of the country and calling daily became calling once a week became texting became silence. And you remember waking up in your own bed. And then there was the fact that your sister had known for twenty years. And yet never told anyone.

At least you had them on your side.

Your other sister had just been sitting there, observing the scene that was unfolding in front of her. She, too, smiled but she, too, wasn’t as good as dealing with emotions as your older sister.

But them not hating you was enough for you.

You got pulled out of your thoughts by a second text, subsequently realizing that you still hadn’t answered the first one yet.

Por supuesto, tu pareja también está invitada. Además, mamá y papá vienen. Espero que sepas que está bien si aún no estás listo para verla. Sé que ha sido difícil para los dos. Solo sé que ella te quiere mucho. Y yo también. Estoy aquí por ti, hermana. Siempre. (Of course your significant other is invited as well. Also, Mom and Dad are coming. I hope that you know that it’s okay if you're not ready to see her yet. I know it’s been hard for the both of you. Just know that she loves you very much. And so do I. I'm here for you, sister. Forever.)

This time, you answered.

I’ll be there.

And then there was the fact that Amy invited herself to join.

(It definitely didn’t happen like this:

“What are you doing for Thanksgiving?”

“I’m-- Okay im going to be honest. If you say something I am going to kill you. I have at least three different weapons on me right now. Not counting the work-issued gun. Understood?”

Amy just nodded, smiling.

“I’m going to my parents’ house. And everyone’s going to be there and it’s my first year since coming out and - I can’t believe I’m going to say this - do you want to come? I know that you’re not going home this year. Or to Jake’s. Of course you don’t have to if-“

“No! Of course I’m gonna come. It’ll be great. I can finally learn about high school you Diaz. Maybe I’ll finally find out about the pink hair situa-“

“Okay no. I changed my mind. You can’t come.”

Amy just shrugged, grinning. “Too late. I’m coming and there’s nothing you can do about it.”)

(Secretly, you are more than thankful for Amy tagging along. It seems dumb to you but you still aren’t ready to face your family alone. And now you have all your sisters on your side.)

That’s how you find yourself in the position you are in right now: sitting in the passenger seat of Amy’s car, riddled with anxiety, seemingly not able to muster up the courage to open the car door. Because once that door is open there’s no going back. If you are looking at all of this realistically you know that your family knows you’re here. They must have spotted you by now.

Suddenly, there’s a hand on your hand and when you look up you’re met with Amy’s brown eyes and an encouraging smile. “Do you want to leave? We can leave right now if you want to”, she asks, her voice laced with sincerity and concern.

You contemplate it for a second but then shake your head. “Just-- one more minute.”

Thankfully, Amy doesn’t question you and you resume staring at the door handle in silence. Then, you hear the drivers’ door open, feel the weight of the car shift and hear the drivers’ door close again. And then your side opens and Amy is holding out her hand to you. “Come on. You-- we can do this. I’m right by your side and we can leave at any second, no follow up questions.”

Inhaling deeply, you take your friend’s hand and get pulled out of the vehicle. Instantly, all you want is to return back into the safety of the car. And while one door closes behind you, the front door of your childhood home opens up.

You hear the old wooden door creak open and you hope it’s your mother waiting to greet you like she did every day after school. When the smell of freshly cooked food would greet you from all the way down the street and nothing had been broken (yet). When everything seemed to be more alright. When there were secrets standing in between you. When you thought of your mother’s love as something unconditional, unbreakable but deep down knew that this was just part of your imagination because otherwise you would’ve told her.

You gulp at the realization.

Instead of your mother a boy of maybe thirteen years of age comes barreling towards you.

“Tía Rosa!”, he shouts excitedly before almost crashing into you. You let go of Amy’s hand just in time to catch the boy. “I thought you wouldn’t come. I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

And for the first time since you woke up that day, you smile. “Alex! I’m here now aren’t I?”

“I have so much to tell you-“, he starts rambling while pulling you inside the house, Amy follows closely behind.

Once inside, you are immediately embraced by your father’s strong arms. “I missed you, mija”, he admits and then turns to Amy: “Good to see you again, Amy”, before briefly hugging her as well, directing the next sentences to both of you: “You don’t have to help in the kitchen, come and sit with us in the living room”, while already walking into the general direction of it.

That makes you stop dead in your tracks. “I always help in the kitchen. Why am I not supposed to now?” you observe Oscar freezing in his spot but he doesn’t give you an answer.

And you know it’s because it’s your mother doesn’t want to see you. And the feeling if ‘I shouldn’t have come’ creeps up your throat. You want to scream at him and at her but instead you calmly ask: “Is it because Mamí is in there and she doesn’t want me to help?”

You still don’t get an answer.

“It is, isn’t it?”

Oscar slowly turns around, face in agony. He runs his right hand through his hair. “Listen mija, she still-- hasn’t figured it out. And it’s not that she doesn’t want you in there it’s just--“

“- that she doesn’t want me there. Or here, I suppose. Great. I understand”, you complete his sentence after a few seconds of silence. You turn to Amy. “This was a bad idea. We should go.” You then proceed to walk back to the front door, desperately trying to keep the tears at bay. You’re not going to cry here. In front of your father. In front of everybody.

In that moment the kitchen door opens and your older sister steps out. Her head is still turned to the kitchen as she finishes the conversation. “- I know! I’ll be right back!” And when she turns, her eyes are met with yours.

“Ro-Ro!”, she exclaims smiling and it sets something off in you and you feel the tears starting to stream down your face. Your older sister hurries to you to embrace you and you hide your face in her sweater.. “No need to cry”, she jokes and then leans in and whispers “you wanna go outside?”

You nod, face still buried in your sister’s neck.

She then turns to Amy, smiling. “You must be Amy. Would you mind helping in the kitchen?”

You can’t help but chuckle through the tears and imagine that Amy blushes furiously. “I’m really bad in the kitchen so it would be a really bad idea. Everything I touch turns into something inedible. I might accidentally burn the house down in the process”, she explains whole your sister leads you out the door.

“You could still join us in the living room”, Oscar suggests is what you hear before the door closes behind you.

You settle down on the steps of the front porch, neither of you talking. You rest your head on your sister’s shoulder and she lightly tangles her fingers in your curls.

“I’m really glad you came”, your sister admits quietly, breaking the comfortable silence. “It’s all going to be alright someday.”

You chuckle bitterly. “Everyone seems to say that. But it really doesn’t look like it. And I’m really scared it never will be again.” Your voice breaks at the last few words. There’s tears streaming down your face again.

After about ten more minutes of silence, your sister gets up from the steps again. “I have to get back to helping. You know how Mamí is. She’ll-- She’ll come around eventually, Ro. Just give her some more time, okay?”

You nod.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to say when you know the things you are promised might just be someone saying something in the spur of the moment. And doesn’t mean it. So you don’t say anything. “Do you want me to bring Amy?”, your sister asks instead. You shake your head.

“I’ll be right in.”

As soon as the front door closes again, you are hit by another wave of sadness and tears. Before all of this happened you never knew you could cry this much in one day. You just want to be alone in your apartment and get drunk and hide under your covers in the dark and reread the text exchange between Alicia and yourself.

Alicia.

You hadn’t thought about your ex-girlfriend in days.

You miss Alicia. Miss the warmth she provided and the arms holding you tight at night when the nightmares of prison were haunting you again. Miss her smooth skin and soft melodic voice. Miss her every time you lay in the bed that now feels too big for one single person. Miss her laugh and waking up next to her. Miss how you could be your true, vulnerable self around her. Miss her

You miss Alicia and your mother. Your mother that’s no ten meters away from you but doesn’t want to see you.

And it hurts.

“Why are crying?”, Alex’s voice suddenly asks. “You’re too badass to cry.” He frowns as if he only realized in that second that he can’t quite put his finger on what exactly was wrong. You wipe the tears off your face in a hurry before being handed a tissue by your nephew.

“Well, everything feels different now,'' you admit without thinking and sigh. “Mamí isn’t talking to me and it’s weird, y’know? I’m not allowed in the kitchen and just being here feels wrong.” There’s a short period of silence, Alex waiting for you to finish. “I shouldn’t have come.”

“You should have because I wanted to see you. I missed you. We all did. Is it because of the fight you had with Grandma?”

You wonder how he knows about this and how he’s so compassionate for his thirteen years of age. How considerate he is. Your sister did a great job raising him, you think. You contemplate if telling him would be the right thing to do but the words tumble out of your mouth before you can come to a decision. “Yeah. Because I told her I am bisexual. Do you know what that means?”

To your surprise, Alex nods in understanding. “Of course I do. Mom explained it all to me when I was like nine”, he tells you as if you should have been aware of him knowing. As if he was stating the obvious. Of course he knows. His mom talked to him about it. You’re both quiet for a moment until Alex adds: “I think I am, too, actually. Bisexual, I mean.”

’Okay, cool cool cool cool cool’, you think. “When did you realize?” You hate being asked this question but it’s the only thing coming to you right now.

“Easy. I was watching Cloak & Dagger and I thought Dagger: hot. Cloak: also hot.”

You have to laugh. “Have you ever seen Saved By The Bell?”, Alex shakes his head. “We definitely have to watch it! You’ll love it.” You didn’t realize how close he’d been all of a sudden until he hugs you tightly.

“You’re the coolest, Rosa. And I’m glad you came even though Grandma isn’t talking to you. I like hanging out with you, you’re like my hero. I mean Mom knows about me maybe being bi but it’s cool to have you to talk to about it. It was cool hanging out with you before already but now it’s even cooler.”

You don’t know what to say so you pull him closer.

Hero. It leaves a bitter aftertaste of responsibility in your mouth. But it's one you’re ready to take on.

It’s quiet between you until Alex mumbles ”I don’t want Grandma to hate me, too.” And you’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear this but you did.

“She doesn’t hate you”, you want to say. “She doesn’t really hate either of us. It’s just hard on her. I get that. It’s always different when it’s your own family.” But you know it’s just a lot of empty words strung together so instead you pull him even closer and say “Yeah, I know exactly how you feel. You’ll always have your mother and me though.”

He nods solemnly before asking her “Do you have a girlfriend? Or a boyfriend?”, and you sigh.

“I had. But we broke up last week because she got offered a place to study in London. She left yesterday morning.”

Alex just nods.

You feel the wind touch your skin harshly and you realize that neither of you wears a jacket. After observing the goosebumps for a second you suggest to head inside in a desperate attempt to change the subject. “I’m freezing!”, you add for good measure.

Alex jumps to his feet and follows you inside and you’re immediately embraced by the warmth of the house.

By now you made peace with the idea of having to spend the remainder of the evening with your dad and Amy and your sisters’ husbands and kids in the living room.

What you dont expect when you turn the corner though, is to encounter your mother in the living room, animatedly chatting away with Amy, who is surrounded by the younger children.

It’s the first time you’ve seen her since the futile game of Pictionary, where you had to explain to your parents that being bisexual is a thing because you are it. And then telling you that it’s a phase and you’ll marry a man and have grandchildren with him.

When you dare to step into the living room, everything suddenly quiets down and the tension in the room is palpable. You feel like choking the second you make eye contact with your mother and you’re aware of your heart starting to race and your palms getting sweaty.

And you can’t breathe anymore.

“Mamí”, you force out, your voice laced with pain. “Lo siento. Te extraño. Por favor perdoname.” (Mom, I’m sorry. I miss you. Please forgive me.) You don’t know what she should forgive you for because it should be the other way around, her seeking your forgiveness but all you want is to hear her speak and take you into her arms.

And make peace.

Your mother looks at you and you can clearly see the tears in her eyes. The struggle within herself is visible even across the room.

It looks like she’s trying to go over to you, struggling with herself. Then, without a word, she turns away and disappears back into the kitchen.

You still stand there, petrified in place for what feels like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than fifteen seconds. You feel your nephew hugging you tight, feel his pain translate into your body. The ringing in your ears gets louder and you are starting to feel dizzy. And then Amy is grabbing your hand. Your father is trying to apologize to you but you can’t hear him because there’s a ringing in your ears. You can just barely make him out through the blurriness of your view.

Amy leads you to her car and you get in, woodenly, staring ahead into emptiness. You feel Amy reaching over your body to buckle you in and then she’s driving.

And then she’s not.

And then you cry.

You cry and cry and cry while your friend holds your hand and you sit in silence until you’re all cried out. She drives you home and you get drunk on various kinds of liquor together. When Amy reaches her Six-Drink-Potential you tell her about Alicia and how you miss your mother and she tells you about her struggles while you and her fiancé were in prison.

You fall asleep on the living room floor where Jake finds you the next day.

(It takes you almost six months, a particularly gory case that entails the mother of the victim which reminded you so much of the relationship you had to have with your mother and the tenacity of both your best friend and your current girlfriend respectively until you muster up the courage to call your mother and ask her to meet you at the precinct after work.

She agrees.)