#I also look younger than I am so when I told them their grandson/nephew was too young for me they understood

[crystalirises]

Day 25: The Engineer

For day 25: Cogchamp!Fundy ---> Phoenix

Character: Okay, so, Cogchamp Fundy. So, I made it so that Cogchamp!Fundy is a bit of a researcher/inventor/engineer. As far as I am aware, he's the admin of the Cogchamp server, and I think it would be fun if he was a little bit smarter within the AU than he probably is in canon. So, here's the thing. Since I already revealed why all of the Fundys have been swapped, I wanted to make other Fundy characters who also have the ability to traverse the other dimensions. Cogchamp!Fundy is a researcher, and he would be happy to research dimension-hopping. So, he's one of the few Fundys that can/will have the possibility of gaining the ability of dimension-hopping.

Setting: Takes place in an AU I discussed with a friend in which Fundy is a Phoenix. Phil and Techno killed him in Cogchamp. They discovered he was a phoenix so they took him away and named him Zag since he had no memory of who he previously was because he reverted back to a baby when he died.

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34203535/chapters/86502286

“Uhhhhh, maybe we can talk about this?”

He looked down at the sharp netherite axe that was pressed against his throat, a weary grin on his face as he stared up at the piglin hybrid that had cornered him in the room that he’d woken up in.

“Where is Zagreus?”

“The god that died and came back?!” Fundy wrinkled his nose, “I don’t know!”

“Wrong answer.” The axe slammed into his neck.

---

“That is not Zagreus, mate.”

Phil stared at the stranger in his grandson’s bed, neck still stitching together as the fox hybrid’s body continued to heal itself. Techno shrugged, wiping the blood from his blade. Phil ran a hand through the stranger’s hair, reminiscent of how Zag’s hair used to be in another life. “I found him here. He couldn’t explain where Zagreus was. Hence, I settled on rendering him unconscious.”

“Good call, mate.”

Phil pursed his lips, his wings ruffling. This stranger was not Zagreus, but…

“He looks like Fundy.”

---

“I’m Fundy.”

Techno snorted. They already deciphered that little fact. He and Phil were seated across from Fundy, the fox hybrid’s hands chained to the table to keep him from fleeing. Techno had taken the time to sort through the inventions that were in the fox hybrid’s pockets, having even found a small explosive among the small trinkets. This stranger, Fundy or not, was clearly dangerous.

“I’m guessing I’m not in my world, am I?”

That was obvious. He casted a weary glance towards Phil, his friend’s wings were still ruffled at the thought that Zagreus was gone. Avians were rare, immortal ones even moreso. While Phil had told him he was a crow, Techno knew his friend was more than a crow Avian. He was immortal, not just a mere crow Avian. Phil had been happy to have Fundy, a phoenix Avian.

“I’m afraid not, mate.” Phil mirthlessly chuckled, “You have no clue where Zag is?”

“Nope.” Fundy popped the ‘p,’ shrugging like he wasn’t all that bothered that he was practically a prisoner. Techno found this version of his nephew quite odd. When he’d first woken up after Techno had killed him, Fundy had jokingly laughed and said that he was going to have neck aches for the next few hours. He didn’t seem to care that he’d died at all. The fox hybrid leaned against his chair, head tilting back and forth. “I could find him. I need to get back to Cogchamp anyway. It’s pretty easy to construct a portal between worlds, my younger brother showed me how. Shit… is this like… a phenomenon that’s occured in all the dimensions? I should check—”

“You’re from… Cogchamp?”

“Yep!” Fundy grinned, a bit of pride shining in his eyes, “Heard of it?”

Techno and Phil exchanged a short glance. They’d buried it under rubble. Hence, yes, they’ve heard of the City of Cogchamp. They weren’t about to reveal this information to Fundy, however. If this Fundy came from a world where he stayed, or perhaps was even born, in Cogchamp, then it would hold no benefit to them if he were to ever find out what they’d done to this world’s version of Cogchamp. “We’ve… heard of the City of Cogchamp, yes. My grandson, he’s unfortunately gone now, told us about the city. He used to live there before… well…”

Before he died and reverted into Zagreus.

“Oh, uh, sorry to hear that.” Despite the mention of death, Fundy’s grin was still present on his face. He nodded, as if coming to an agreement in his head. “I could help you. Besides, this is a great event to study. I need to get home, yeah, but I’d like to research about the other universes.”

“Can you bring Zagreus home?”

“Sure can!” Fundy’s smile grew brighter, tail wagging in excitement. Phil’s wings fluttered, a sigh of relief escaping the Avian hybrid’s lips. Techno could understand Phil’s worry. Fundy was just like Phil, an immortal Avian, and while Techno could never die, Phil wanted someone like him. They had both been surprised when Fundy first died and red wings sprouted from his back.

“But, uh… Before I help you…”

Fundy chuckled, glancing down at his hands. “Could you, uh, free me now, please?”

=============================================================

I just think Cogchamp!Fundy doesn't fear death

I don't know

He just deserves it

[sincerelystranger]

Author: Basically this is like step 2 in rebuilding the Lotus Brothers’ relationship.

—-

Jiang Cheng is not jealous. He is the Yunmeng Jiang Sect leader – very rich and very handsome – and he’s not jealous. He doesn’t even know what jealousy feels like actually. Never felt it before.

He’s just a bit… disappointed. Yeah, he’s disappointed.

He’s raised Jin Ling for 16 years! Given him everything under the sun. Changed his diapers for him when he was a baby! So it’s totally reasonable that he’s just a tiny (tiny) bit disappointed that Jin Ling seems to have tossed him to the side for his newly alive uncle, Wei Wuxian.

Jiang Cheng should have expected it, he guesses, irritation bubbling in his stomach. Everyone always seemed to like that insufferable idiot more than Jiang Cheng… Whatever, Jiang Cheng doesn’t care.

He had just expected that his nephew might show him some loyalty…

Whatever, he’s not jealous. Wei Wuxian can have Jin Ling if he wants! Good riddance, actually! Jiang Cheng will probably have so much more free time now that he doesn’t have to run to Koi Tower every time Jin Ling is upset. Wei Wuxian can deal with Jin Ling’s temper tantrums now. See how he likes that! Good riddance.

Yes, so Jiang Cheng is totally not jealous and he’s totally not eavesdropping right now. He just happened to be sitting right outside of the room that Wei Wuxian is occupying during his stay at Koi Tower. He hadn’t known it was Wei Wuxian’s room! He just wanted to rest his legs for a little bit. And it was a total coincidence that Jin Ling was in there, chattering away. (Jin Ling never talked this much when he was with Jiang Cheng…)

“Were you always scared of dogs?” Jin Ling asks, “Can’t you get over it? It’s annoying to make Fairy hide every time you visit.”

(Fairy doesn’t have to hide when Jiang Cheng visits.)

“Can’t you just get rid of that evil creature?” Wei Wuxian replies petulantly, “I can’t even go outside for a piss because I’m scared I’ll run into that demon.”

“Fairy’s not a demon!” Jin Ling says indignantly, “She’s saved my life a bunch of times. If she was a cultivator, she’d probably be an immortal by now.”

“Well I’ll do all your life saving from now on, so go on, get rid of that demon for your poor uncle Wei Wuxian.”

“You’re so annoying,” Jin Ling sighs. (The most annoying! Jiang Cheng agrees silently.) “It’s a wonder uncle didn’t murder you growing up.” (Yes! Is Jin Ling finally seeing the light?)

Wei Wuxian, infuriatingly enough, laughs at that. “I was too fun for Jiang Cheng to want to murder me. Besides, if he had murdered me, your mother would have been upset and Jiang Cheng would never risk upsetting your mother.”

(That was true. There used to be nothing worse than upsetting shijie)

“I can’t imagine my mother liking you that much,” Jin Ling replies cuttingly.

Wei Wuxian laughs again. “She was a saint,” he says, “Too good to have been cursed with brothers such as me and Jiang Cheng.”

“Was she really as kind as you say?” Jin Ling asks suspiciously, “I can only imagine her being like a girl version of uncle.”

“To be honest, she was probably even kinder than what I remember,” Wei Wuxian says, something wistful in his voice that makes Jiang Cheng’s chest ache. “The girl version of Jiang Cheng was actually your grandmother – Madam Yu.”

“Really?” Jin Ling asks. (Why didn’t Jin Ling ever ask Jiang Cheng these sort of questions?) “What was she like? Was she as scary as uncle?”

“Scarier,” Wei Wuxian answers easily. “She’s probably the scariest woman I’ve ever and will ever meet in my life – in both lives actually!”

(His mother was the scariest woman Jiang Cheng had and probably ever will meet as well)

“Scarier than uncle, huh?” Jin Ling says, something like awe in his voice. “How did you survive her?”

“What do you mean survive? She was kind to me,” Wei Wuxian says to Jiang Cheng’s surprise.

(Kind? Kind? His mother had been a lot of things – powerful, ruthless, intelligent – but kind? Even as her son, he had known that his mother was not kind. His mother had a soft side to her, yes, but he had never seen her show it to Wei Wuxian. Was Wei Wuxian… sparing her memory for her grandson? Did Wei Wuxian have that kind of forethought?)

“Was she really kind, or are you just saying that because that’s what all orphans are required to say?” Jin Ling asks, again to Jiang Cheng’s surprise. (What was Jin Ling talking about? Orphan? Hadn’t Jiang Cheng taken care of him? Wei Wuxian had also been adopted – he hadn’t really grown up an orphan, had he?)

“What do you mean?” Wei Wuxian asks.

(Yes, what does he mean, Jiang Cheng wonders.)

“Oh, you know,” Jin Ling answers flippantly, “Like Jin Chan’s mom is a horrible, horrible lady, but since she’s my aunt and she let me live in her house when I was younger, whenever someone asks, I have to sound super thankful or they’ll say I’m ungrateful and curse my parents.”

Anger, hot and deep, boils inside of Jiang Cheng at Jin Ling’s words. How was this the first time he heard of this? He had been so grateful to Madam Yang for taking in Jin Ling when he was just a toddler – she had said that it was no trouble since her son was of similar age! Had she mistreated Jin Ling behind Jiang Cheng’s back? Had Jin Guangyao known about this? Why hadn’t Jin Ling told Jiang Cheng before?

“Jin Ling!” Wei Wuxian says, something dangerous in his voice. “Did Jin Chan’s mother treat you poorly? Did you tell Jiang Cheng about this?”

“She didn’t like… beat me or anything!” Jin Ling backtracks hesitantly, as if unsure why Wei Wuxian is upset. “Isn’t it expected that she doesn’t like me? I mean, I’m always going to have a higher standing than her son and I’ve always been a better cultivator than Jin Chan. Second-uncle used to say that she was just jealous.”

“She didn’t beat you, but what did she do?” Wei Wuxian asks darkly. Jiang Cheng has a feeling that Madam Yang will receive a visit soon – he wonders if he should stop Wei Wuxian or join him. Murdering the wife of a high ranking Jin sect member probably wouldn’t be viewed kindly upon…

“It’s not a big deal!” Jin Ling mutters childishly, “She’s a just a mean lady and she never stopped Jin Chan from beating on me with his friends, and she never let me eat at the same table as them, and she made me kneel outside a lot to ‘reflect.’”

Jiang Cheng will definitely join Wei Wuxian to visit Madam Yang. Anger and guilt are boiling in his veins, threatening to explode out of him. His fists are clenched so tightly that they’re shaking.

“Jin Guangyao knew this and he did nothing?” Wei Wuxian asks, his voice climbing higher with every syllable, “Does Jiang Cheng know about this?”

“He didn’t do nothing!” Jin Ling defends hotly (Jiang Cheng can’t fault him for defending that snake. He can… understand what it is like to love someone who everyone else has declared a villain). “He gave me Fairy – and she put a stop to Jin Chan’s antics. Besides, I never wanted to eat with her and stupid Jin Chan anyway so that worked out. And why would I tell uncle?”

“You told Jin Guangyao but you didn’t tell Jiang Cheng?” Wei Wuxian asks incredulously.

“No, I didn’t tell second-uncle either! He just found out somehow – you know how he is – was! He just… knew everything all the time.”

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” Wei Wuxian asks, “Jiang Cheng definitely would have taken you back to Lotus Pier! You didn’t have to suffer like that!”

“Oh stop being dramatic,” Jin Ling huffs, “I didn’t suffer. It wasn’t anything worth troubling uncle over.”

(There’s nothing too small, Jiang Cheng thinks hotly. He wishes now that he had gone into the room instead of listening outside in secret. But would Jin Ling have even said these things if Jiang Cheng had been in there?)

“Oh, Jin Ling,” Wei Wuxian sighs, “promise me that you’ll let me know if someone so much as looks at you the wrong way. Promise me.”

“I don’t need you to coddle me,” Jin Ling snorts, “I’m the youngest sect leader – I get plenty of bad looks. If I reported every single one to you, I wouldn’t have time to do anything else.”

“Promise me,” Wei Wuxian repeats, “promise me or I’ll make a scene. I’ll take all my clothes off and run around Koi Tower in tears, yelling the whole time. You know I will.”

“Ugh, fine,” Jin Ling groans, “I thought you’d be less protective than uncle Jiang, but you’re somehow worse.”

“Whatever Jiang Cheng can do, I can do better,” Wei Wuxian answers solemnly, “except scowl. He’s got it over me on the scowling.”

“Yeah, no one can out-scowl uncle,” Jin Ling agrees (to Jiang Cheng’s ever growing irritation), “Anyway, you never answered my question. What kind of ‘kind’ was grandmother?”

“Really kind,” Wei Wuxian answers.

He’s lying, Jiang Cheng knows. He’s horrified to know that Wei Wuxian is lying – lying to save face for a woman who hated him. Someone who beat him regularly. How many times has Wei Wuxian had to say this lie, Jiang Cheng wonders faintly. How many times had Jin Ling lied to him?

Was this why Jin Ling kept seeking Wei Wuxian out? To speak this language of orphans that Jiang Cheng didn’t understand?

“Madam Yu and Uncle Jiang were kinder to me than I deserved.”

“You’re lying,” Jin Ling says plainly, “Grandmother must have been really horrible for you to lie so much.”

“I’m not lying!” Wei Wuxian lies again.

“You are!”

“Am not!”

“You are!”

“I’m not!” Wei Wuxian says exasperatedly, “Uncle and Madam Yu really were very kind – your grandparents were very kind people.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jin Ling says, “I’ll believe that about grandfather, but I know you’re lying about grandmother.”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because you call grandfather uncle and grandmother ‘Madam Yu,’” Jin Ling answers matter-of-factly. “Besides, you said she was the female version of uncle – and uncle is great and all, but he’s barely nice to me, and he loves me! She must have been absolutely horrible to you.”

“She wasn’t horrible,” Wei Wuxian defends weakly, “She treated me fairly.”

Guilt and anger – two feelings Jiang Cheng is becoming intimately acquainted with during this eavesdropping mission. He remembers all those times he watched Wei Wuxian get punished. Punished for… being better than Jiang Cheng mostly. A better cultivator, a better swordsmith, a better archer – and Jiang Cheng had been helpless then. Helpless against his mother’s anger, her jealousy. He loved his mother – loves her still – but… it’s horrible, remembering the things she had done to Wei Wuxian. It’s one of the reasons Jiang Cheng can never find it in himself to raise a hand against Jin Ling. He’s never seen physical punishment used fairly.

“Sure,” Jin Ling says disbelievingly.

Wei Wuxian laughs at that, and Jiang Cheng can’t understand it. Why does that idiot laugh at everything? Does he think laughter will brush everything away? Every whiplash, every beating, every harsh word? There’s no way that Wei Wuxian has forgotten his mother’s cruelty – there’s no way that those memories could ever be something worth laughter. Jiang Cheng had only watched and even he can’t forget.

“Oh, Jin Ling,” Wei Wuxian says fondly, “I was just a kid on the streets – your grandmother had no reason to let me stay, but she did, and I’ll always be grateful for that. Thanks to her, I got your mother, I got Jiang Cheng, and now I have you.”

Jiang Cheng has to leave then. Can’t bear to listen to any more of this horrid conversation.

He’s always known Wei Wuxian was stupid, but it’s… jarring to realize just how stupid he is.

Grateful, he says. Grateful. What an idiot.

----

Later that evening, Jin Ling eats dinner with Jiang Cheng in the room he uses whenever he comes to Koi Tower.

“Where’s Wei Wuxian?” Jiang Cheng asks, trying not to sound too interested.

“He’s probably in his room,” Jin Ling answers, his mouth full of food. It’s gross and Jiang Cheng definitely didn’t raise him like that. “I told him to join us but he said he didn’t want to risk being murdered over dinner.”

Jiang Cheng snorts at that. He wouldn’t murder Wei Wuxian in front of Jin Ling.

“You should try to get along with him,” Jin Ling continues, shoving more food into his mouth. “He’s not that bad once you get used to him.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng huffs. He doesn’t need to hear that from Jin Ling – he doesn’t need to hear that from anyone! He knows better than anyone that Wei Wuxian can be… tolerable at times. “Also, don’t talk with your mouth full. It’s disgusting.”

Jin Ling pouts (is he really the Sect leader?) but dutifully swallows his food before talking again. “You’re so annoying, uncle,” the impudent little punk says, “I know you actually want to get along with him but you’re probably embarrassed or something. You shouldn’t be embarrassed, he’s really easy, you know.”

“Keep talking and I’m going to break your legs,” Jiang Cheng growls. He knows, he wants to say. He knows better than anyone how easy Wei Wuxian is. He can’t remember Wei Wuxian ever getting mad at him. Can’t ever remember a time Wei Wuxian wasn’t smiling. He’d always been so easy to please – so quick to forgive. A word from shijie, a gentle shove from Jiang Cheng, or a swim in the lake, and he’d be back to the annoying smiley idiot he always was.

Jiang Cheng knows better than anyone that he holds all the tools to decide whether the relationship between him and Wei Wuxian gets rebuilt.  

But the thing is that… he’s never been the one who’s had to reach out first.

It was always Wei Wuxian who chased after him. Always Wei Wuxian who apologized. Always Wei Wuixian who soothed Jiang Cheng’s hurt feelings, his hurt pride.

Maybe Jiang Cheng had taken it for granted all this time, but somehow he was still waiting for Wei Wuxian to reach out to him first. There’s also a horrible thought in his mind that tells him that Wei Wuxian isn’t reaching out because, actually, he doesn’t want to. What if Wei Wuxian doesn’t want anything to do with Jiang Cheng after all? It’s a childish and humiliating realization – even to admit to himself.

“Tomorrow,” he says as naturally as possible, “We’ll have breakfast in Wei Wuxian’s room, tomorrow. I will not murder him.” Great. That was natural, right? Totally natural.

Jiang Cheng thinks he hears Jin Ling snort into his bowl of rice.

“I think I should make that a rule,” Jin Ling says, “No murdering of uncles at Koi Tower.”

“Is it murder if I’m just defending you from all his nonsense?” Jiang Cheng asks seriously.

“I can defend myself just fine, uncle,” Jin Ling answers, rolling his eyes. Where had he learned all this rudeness? Probably Wei Wuxian. Jiang Cheng never rolled his eyes like that.

Maybe he’ll tell Wei Wuxian to stop teaching Jin Ling all these rude things tomorrow at breakfast. He feels a little… nervous. What will he say? What if Wei Wuxian and Jin Ling just talk together and leave him out? What if Wei Wuxian says something stupid and Jiang Cheng can’t contain his anger and says something mean? Ugh… breakfast tomorrow was a bad idea. He’s already regretting it.

“No take backs on breakfast,” Jin Ling says, as if he can read Jiang Cheng’s mind.

“I said what I said,” Jiang Cheng replies hotly, “A man never goes back on his word.”

“Yeah, sure,” Jin Ling snorts.

Impudent little ingrate!

They finish dinner and Jin Ling hangs out for a bit. Brings Fairy into Jiang Cheng’s room and shows Jiang Cheng all the new tricks he’s taught her since Jiang Cheng last visited.

Jiang Cheng watches all the tricks dutifully. Jin Ling obviously worked at them, after all. But his mind does drift a little. Wonders why Jin Ling speaks about such… serious things with Wei Wuxian but not with Jiang Cheng. Did he not think Jiang Cheng was a good listener?

Jiang Cheng clears his throat after Fairy’s last trick. “Um, great job,” he says naturally. Super naturally. “Uh, Jin Ling… If you ever have anything you want to talk about with me… you… can.” Great job. Totally natural.

Jin Ling stares at him strangely for a couple of seconds.

Jiang Cheng stares back, feeling prickles of embarrassment making their way up his spine.

“What would I have to tell you?” Jin Ling says finally, tilting his head just a little. He looks like a toddler again like that, his soft cheeks looking even softer in the candlelight.

“Just… anything…” Jiang Cheng answers. “Anything that might be bothering you.”

“Well…” Jin Ling says slowly, “there’s one thing…”

Finally! Real bonding time with Jin Ling. Take that, Wei Wuxian!

“Why is Wei Wuxian so scared of dogs? I want to show him all of Fairy’s tricks too, and it’s annoying that I have to hide Fairy away every time he comes over. Do you think I could, like, train him out of his fear of dogs?”

Jiang Cheng feels the blood vessel in his forehead fill with blood.

“Nevermind,” he says, waving at Jin Ling to get out of his room. “I take back what I said. Don’t tell me anything. Get out before I break your legs.”

“I thought men didn’t go back on their word!” Jin Ling says cheekily, sticking his tongue out at Jiang Cheng before running out of the room. Fucking brat.

Wei Wuxian can have him.

[butterflies-dragons]

Loved your post on the similarities between Jon and Waymar Royce and Sansa's preference in men. I would like to add something else on the table. The Royces have Stark blood through the maternal line. Catelyn even suggested to name them as a possible heir to Robb. So Sansa really has a thing for the Stark look. This might be incestuous in nature. But isn't there a phrase that women tend to fall for men who remind them of their father? In Sansa's case it's more literal than usual lmao

Hello there! 

Thank you very much ♡

You know, when I was writing my meta, I was suggested by @lostlittlesatellites, to write about the Royces with Stark blood, but I decided not to bring the subject up because we don’t really know who they are.

I know about what Catelyn said to Robb regarding the Stark relatives in the Vale: 

“Young, and a king,” he said. “A king must have an heir. If I should die in my next battle, the kingdom must not die with me. By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her.” His mouth tightened. “To her, and her lord husband. Tyrion Lannister. I cannot allow that. I will not allow that. That dwarf must never have the north.”

“No,” Catelyn agreed. “You must name another heir, until such time as Jeyne gives you a son.” She considered a moment. “Your father’s father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest … it might have been a Templeton, but …”

“Mother.” There was a sharpness in Robb’s tone. “You forget. My father had four sons.”

She had not forgotten; she had not wanted to look at it, yet there it was. “A Snow is not a Stark.”

“Jon’s more a Stark than some lordlings from the Vale who have never so much as set eyes on Winterfell.”

“Jon is a brother of the Night’s Watch, sworn to take no wife and hold no lands. Those who take the black serve for life.”

“So do the knights of the Kingsguard. That did not stop the Lannisters from stripping the white cloaks from Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Boros Blount when they had no more use for them. If I send the Watch a hundred men in Jon’s place, I’ll wager they find some way to release him from his vows.”

He is set on this. Catelyn knew how stubborn her son could be. “A bastard cannot inherit.”

“Not unless he’s legitimized by a royal decree,” said Robb. “There is more precedent for that than for releasing a Sworn Brother from his oath.”

“Precedent,” she said bitterly. “Yes, Aegon the Fourth legitimized all his bastards on his deathbed. And how much pain, grief, war, and murder grew from that? I know you trust Jon. But can you trust his sons? Or their sons? The Blackfyre pretenders troubled the Targaryens for five generations, until Barristan the Bold slew the last of them on the Stepstones. If you make Jon legitimate, there is no way to turn him bastard again. Should he wed and breed, any sons you may have by Jeyne will never be safe.”

“Jon would never harm a son of mine.”

“No more than Theon Greyjoy would harm Bran or Rickon?”

Grey Wind leapt up atop King Tristifer’s crypt, his teeth bared. Robb’s own face was cold. “That is as cruel as it is unfair. Jon is no Theon.”

“So you pray. Have you considered your sisters? What of their rights? I agree that the north must not be permitted to pass to the Imp, but what of Arya? By law, she comes after Sansa … your own sister, trueborn …”

“… and dead. No one has seen or heard of Arya since they cut Father’s head off. Why do you lie to yourself? Arya’s gone, the same as Bran and Rickon, and they’ll kill Sansa too once the dwarf gets a child from her. Jon is the only brother that remains to me. Should I die without issue, I want him to succeed me as King in the North. I had hoped you would support my choice.”

“I cannot,” she said. “In all else, Robb. In everything. But not in this … this folly. Do not ask it.”

“I don’t have to. I’m the king.” Robb turned and walked off, Grey Wind bounding down from the tomb and loping after him.

—A Storm of Swords - Catelyn V

This passage is very interesting because Robb said: By law Sansa is next in line of succession, so Winterfell and the north would pass to her.  But since Sansa was married to Tyrion Lannister, Robb had to name another heir.

This is a contrast with Jon.  Stannis use the same argument to convince Jon to accept his offer to be Lord of Winterfell, he called Sansa “Lady Lannister”, but no matter what, Jon didn’t accept it.  

“But, instead of Tyrion, Willas or even Robert, who pursue Sansa’s claim over her, there is a man that has been offered Winterfell and choose her over it. Among all the high lords interested in becoming the Lord of Winterfell by marrying Sansa Stark, the bastard Jon Snow refused to despoil his sister Sansa of her rights, even if her claim is the one thing he has wanted as much as he had ever wanted anything.”

“By right Winterfell should go to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon I

Jon said, “Winterfell belongs to my sister Sansa.”

—A Dance with Dragons - Jon IV

Robb and Catelyn were both pushing to prevent Sansa and Jon to get Winterfell, and ironically enough, I think that Sansa and Jon will be the Starks that will retake Winterfell.

Now, about who may be the Royces with Stark blood...

“Your father’s father had no siblings, but his father had a sister who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch. They had three daughters, all of whom wed Vale lordlings. A Waynwood and a Corbray, for certain. The youngest … it might have been a Templeton, but …”

This means: Ned Stark’s father Rickard had no siblings, but Rickard’s father  Edwyle, had a sister Jocelyn who married a younger son of Lord Raymar Royce, of the junior branch, Benedict Royce.  

Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce had three daughters:

Daughter 1 married an Unknown Waynwood

Daughter 2 married an Unknown Corbray

Daughter 3 might have married an Unknown Templeton

See? we really don’t know who the Royces with Stark blood are. We don’t even know if they have the Stark features. We don’t even know if they are still alive… 

Also take note that Jocelyn Stark married a Royce from the junior branch, called House Royce of the Gates of the Moon.  While Waymar Royce was from House Royce of Runestone. 

So I addressed the subject only with this line:   

The resemblance between the Starks and the Royces [of Runestone] maybe has to be with both houses being descendants of the First Men.

Now back to House Royce of the Gates of the Moon.

At this point in the books, the known Royces of the cadet branch are: Nestor Royce and his children: Albar and Myranda.  Imagine Myranda having a claim to Winterfell, Alayne will hate it…

Also imagine Lyn Corbray having a claim to Winterfell, Alayne will hate it even more…

About the Templetons, we don’t even know for sure if the third daughter of Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce married into House Templeton…

Now, about the Waynwoods, this is exactly why @lostlittlesatellites​ suggested me to write about the Royces with Stark blood, because at this point at the Books, Alayne is very linked with the Waynwoods. And even Harrold Hardyn’s mother was a Waynwood! Imagine Harry the Heir having not only a claim to the Vale but also to Winterfell!  Alayne will like this scenario a bit more… This is unlikely,  but it was funny to think about it… 

Harry the Heir doesn’t have the Stark Look tho.  But his Waynwood cousins do. So they could be the descendants of Jocelyn Stark and Benedict Royce.  Let see:

In the first Alayne chapter of the Winds of Winter, Sansa meets the Waynwoods and Harry the Heir:

“Lady Myranda. Lady Alayne.” Anya Waynwood inclined her head to each of them in turn. “It is good of you to greet us. Allow me to present my grandson, Ser Roland Waynwood.” She nodded at the knight who had spoken. “And this is my youngest son, Ser Wallace Waynwood.  And of course my ward, Ser Harrold Hardyng.”

(…)

Ser Roland was the oldest of the three, though no more than five-and-twenty. He was taller and more muscular than Ser Wallace, but both were long-faced and lantern-jawed, with stringy brown hair and pinched noses.  Horsefaced and homely, Alayne thought.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

Ser Roland Waynwood and Ser Wallace Waynwood have three features that match the Stark Look:

Both long-faced

Both horsefaced

Both have [stringy] brown hair 

Sansa/Alyane doesn’t find the Waynwoods attractive tho, not like she fancied Ser Waymar Royce. Maybe this have to be with their other features: lantern-jawed and pinched noses.

The lack of attraction to the Waynwoods was another reason why I didn’t bring this subject up in my meta.          

In contrast, the Waynwoods seems pretty attracted to Sansa/Alayne:

“Had we known such beauty awaited us at the Gates, we would have flown,” Ser Roland said. Though his words were addressed to Myranda Royce, he smiled at Alayne as he said them.

“To fly you would need wings,” Randa replied, “and there are some knights here who might have a thing to say concerning that.”

“I look forward to a spirited discussion.” Ser Roland swung down from his horse, turned to Alayne, and smiled. “I had heard that Lord Littlefinger’s daughter was fair of face and full of grace, but no one ever told me that she was a thief.”

“You wrong me, ser. I am no thief!”

Ser Roland placed his hand over his heart. “Then how do you explain this hole in my chest, from where you stole my heart?”

“He is only t-teasing you, my lady,” stammered Ser Wallace. “My n-n-nephew never had a h-h-heart.”

“The Waynwood wheel has a broken spoke, and we have my nuncle here.” Ser Roland gave Wallace a whap behind the ear. “Squires should be quiet when knights are speaking.”

Ser Wallace reddened.  “I am no more a s-squire, my lady. My n-nephew knows full well that I was k-k-kni-k-k-kni –“

“Dubbed?” Alayne suggested gently.

“Dubbed,” said Wallace Waynwood, gratefully.

Robb would be his age, if he were still alive, she could not help but think, but Robb died a king, and this is just a boy.

—The Winds of Winter - Alayne I

And about that phrase you mentioned: “women tend to fall for men who remind them of their father,” it is true that the Asoiaf Books have plenty of incestuous undertones with the Targaryens, Cersei and Jaime, Asha and Theon, Crater and his daughters, etc. But in the case of the Starks, GRRM uses the pseudo-incest trope. After all, Jon and Arya, that are lookalikes, were intended to be in love in the so called “original outline”.

We also have the issue of the First love’s Resemblance: Sansa fell wildly in love with Ser Waymar, and Jon fell in love with a wildling girl kissed by fire.

Waymar Royce looked like a Stark. Waymar Royce was Jon’s lookalike. And Jon is Ned lookalike:

Riding through the rainy night, Ned saw Jon Snow’s face in front of him, so like a younger version of his own. 

—A Game of Thrones - Eddard IX

More about it here.

And Jon’s first love was Ygritte, a redhead, with blue-grey eyes, and to make the Tully look even more evident, Ygritte called herself half a fish:

“Ygritte punched his arm. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. I’m half a fish, I’ll have you know.”

—A Storm of Swords - Jon V

Sansa’s first crush having the Stark Look and Jon’s first lover having the Tully look, reminds me of Catelyn being first betrothed with Brandon Stark but marrying Eddard Stark instead.  Brandon, died like Waymar.  Ned said Jon’s is a younger version of himself.  Ned never imagined marrying Catelyn, he had a young infatuation with Ashara Dayne, but he never acted on his feelings for her, and she died.  Ned also killed Ashara’s brother Arthur.  

Sansa fell wildly in love with Waymar, but she won’t marry him, he died.  She will probably fall in love with Jon in a more mature and calmly way.  Jon Snow, after a non-con beginning, ended loving Ygritte, not a lady, that offered him a “comfort level of femininity”, but he won’t marry her, she died.  Jon will probably fell in love with Sansa, freely and willingly.    

Thanks for your message.

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(What if All Might became a villain/vigilante au I write sometimes when the mood takes me. Can't post too much about it yet because it's full of manga spoilers, but here's a piece. A bit darker than my usual fare, unless your introduction to me was The Xenomorph Fic, in which case this is totally normal)

"Bishop to G3," the hissing, mechanized voice said coolly. He waited for his opponent to obligingly move the piece that was out of reach for him, then commented, "We have an...inconvenient matter to discuss."

"Do we?" the younger man sounded bored. It was an affectation, as much a mask as his smile. "Pawn to B4."

"All for One", the man whose name had been intentionally lost to history, leaned back in his chair with a rattling of tubes.

"Your career, my boy."

He wouldn't deny a hint of spiteful satisfaction at the way Toshinori winced at the words.

"You've become quite the Symbol of Fear -- and in just two years! It's impressive, actually, the amount of followers you've picked up so far. And of course, I am tremendously proud to have had a hand in your...shall we say, awakening."

"I sense a "however" coming," Toshinori hummed, and moved another pawn to intercept his opponent's bishop.

[[MORE]]

"Yes." All for One curled his lip. "I'm afraid you're becoming a little too powerful. If I cannot be assured of your loyalty or your cooperation, that also leaves me with fifty-one unaccounted-for soldiers at your disposal. You understand the position that puts me in, don't you, my boy?"

"Check," Toshinori both answered and declared, glancing up from the board.

This time, All for One chuckled. "Not quite, no."

His queen piece made quick work of Toshinori's knight.

"Still too hasty. Ah well, I suppose your overconfidence keeps you from stepping places you shouldn't, as odd as that sounds. Now, about those subordinates of yours."

Toshinori frowned. "They're not my subordinates, Grandfather. They're my allies. And I'm not going to make them swear an oath of, of cooperation or neutrality just so you can sleep better at night." He squinted and sarcasm leaked into his voice. "Not that I'm sure how you sleep at night at all."

"Hmph." All for One shifted another bishop on the board. "I'm really less concerned about them than I am about you. I wouldn't like to think that you might grow too sure of yourself with all those allies of yours. Especially as I've received word that you've been after some of my allies again."

Eyeless, he looked up and still managed to seem as though he were staring into Toshinori's soul. "Now, Toshinori. I'm sure neither of us wants a repeat of our little falling-out in Rishi Hospital. And I'm sure I don't have to tell you that Gran Torino won't fare so well if you ever move openly against me. Check."

Toshinori gritted his teeth, but knew better than to reply. It was always a delicate balance, speaking to his grandfather. He was ancient, ruthless and malicious, and Toshinori knew full well that he would kill everyone close to him if provoked. But at the same time, the old mastermind did genuinely wish to encourage his career as a known villain. No doubt to further shatter the legacy of One for All.

Ah, but the legacy of One for All was in better hands than his grandfather thought. The endurance and minor regeneration quirks the old man had gifted him with when he was in the "chrysalis" would serve to keep the look and legend of All Might going. It had been a "starting-out present" when All for One realized that Toshinori really did mean to fight against the heroes. But Toshinori had his own agendas. He had his eye on a candidate to take One for All, to make it something better than he had.

There would be heroes again. Real ones, not the pitiful, corrupted pawns of the Commission he had to deal with now. Toshinori just had to be patient, and navigate All for One's moods. While also doing what he could to mitigate the damage the old man was inflicting on the mind of that "nephew" of his, the Shigaraki boy.

"I have no intention of being your rival, Grandfather," Toshinori said calmly, moving his king out of check. "I'd rather not be king of the underworld, thank you. Sounds exhausting."

"Oh, you've no idea," All for One scoffed. "Though I must say that it has made my life much easier now that you aren't actively destroying my warehouses. But still-"

Toshinori's voice was tight as he answered. "You know the lines I won't cross. Anything that puts children at risk will be exterminated. That is neither a threat nor a warning. It simply is."

If All for One knew he included Tomura in that statement, he didn't let on.

"You know, I really ought to have brought you home when your mother abandoned you," All for One said lightly, knowing it would strike at an unhealed wound in his opponent's heart. "You would be a proper member of this family, as you were meant to be, and we wouldn't be having this unpleasant little discussion. But then, you wouldn't have brought One for All back under my wing if I had. I suppose things really must happen for a reason. How amusing."

He smirked. "I believe that's checkmate."

Toshinori grunted. "So it is."

He stood and pushed the table and game board to the far wall. Gathering his jacket from the back of his chair and slinging it over one shoulder, he shifted his weight nonchalantly. "Until next time, then?"

All for One made a dismissive gesture. "Kurogiri will escort you out. Do keep our little talk in mind, won't you, Toshinori? So long as you remember the order of things, I won't be forced to...take steps."

"Yes," Toshinori answered dryly, "I'm sure we'd all prefer to avoid that."

"No more failed murder attempts out of you, then," All for One grinned spitefully at his grandson.

Toshinori's exasperated eye roll was almost audible. "I've told you, Grandfather," he said flatly, "I don't want you dead. I merely reject and despise everything you stand for. There is a difference, you know."

When he stepped through the black portal, he didn't even twitch. He'd grown accustomed to it. Thankfully, his grandfather's most loyal puppet couldn't make a portal to a place he didn't know existed. He dropped Toshinori in front of an old family-run diner he was known to frequent, never knowing how close the Forty's main compound was. One of the Forty had grown up with the proprietor of the diner, and the woman was only too glad to let the Forty make use of a series of tunnels under the building that dated back to the turmoil of the Dawn of Quirks. 

It was a five minute walk through the tunnel under the freezer to the compound, but Toshinori didn't mind. That was just added security, as far as he was concerned. Toshinori stepped out of a sliding wall panel and into the warmly-lit office of the compound most of his people gathered in. Gran Torino glanced up from his newspaper, lips pressed into a thin line.

"How's the old monster?" he asked tightly.

"Hateful as ever. He's upset that we have so many allies," Toshinori huffed, "Wanted to remind me what he'll do if I make an attempt to overthrow him."

Gran Torino narrowed his eyes. "Did he hurt you?" he asked in a low voice.

Toshinori shook his head. "Not this time, no. He's...he seems tired. I gather that our little Shigaraki has been particularly exhausting lately."

"Good for him." With a muttered curse, his mentor turned back to the articles he'd been studying. "Something about that kid is off, Toshinori," he remarked, "Really off. I just can't put my finger on it."

Toshinori nodded, and collapsed onto the couch in the office. He held up a hand in front of his face, lazily activating and deactivating a faint pink glow around his fingertips. His control over the quirk was getting stronger every week. It did him no good now, not when he was absorbing it in tiny increments -- not unlike he had with One for All, years ago -- but he guessed that in no more than ten years it would fully bond with his DNA. A completely stable copy of All for One. And his grandfather had no idea.

[npr]

Eleven people were killed on Saturday when a gunman entered Pittsburgh's Tree of Life synagogue and opened fire on the congregants. The victims ranged in age from 54 to 97; eight were men, three were women. Two of them were brothers, and two were a married couple.

Chuck Diamond was a rabbi at Tree of Life until about a year ago, and he remains a member of the community, living just around the corner from the synagogue. He knew many of the victims.

"These are wonderful people, good souls, who were just coming to synagogue as the usually did," he told NPR on Sunday. "Synagogue was just getting started and mostly elderly people who come there are there at the beginning, and you could count on them every week for coming. ... It's such a crime that their lives were taken from us."

The names of the victims were released on Sunday morning by the Allegheny County Office of the Medical Examiner. Here are some of their stories, as we learn them.

Rose Mallinger, 97, of Squirrel Hill, was the oldest of the victims.

Diamond told NPR that Rose "was in her 90s, but she was one of the younger ones among us, I have to tell you, in terms of her spirit. Rose was wonderful."

Daniel Stein, 71, lived in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh. He is the former president of the New Light Congregation, a Conservative synagogue that held services at Tree of Life.

He was remembered for his kindness.

"He was always willing to help anybody," his nephew Steven Halle told TribLIVE, formerly the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. "He was somebody that everybody liked, very dry sense of humor and recently had a grandson who loved him."

Melvin Wax, 88, also of Squirrel Hill, was a remembered as a pillar of the New Light Congregation.

"He was such a kind, kind person," his friend and fellow congregant Myron Snider told The Associated Press. "When my daughters were younger, they would go to him, and he would help them with their federal income tax every year. Never charged them."

"He and I used to, at the end of services, try to tell a joke or two to each other. Most of the time they were clean jokes. Most of the time. I won't say all the time. But most of the time."

Snider said Wax was a bit hard of hearing, and unfailingly attended Friday, Saturday, and Sunday services, filling in at nearly every role if someone didn't show up.

"Just a sweet, sweet guy," he said.

Jerry Rabinowitz, 66, of Edgewood Borough, was a family doctor.

He practiced in a "small, cozy office in Pittsburgh's Bloomfield neighborhood," TribLIVE reporter Ben Schmitt wrote in a personal remembrance. Rabinowitz was his father's doctor, and his own.

Schmitt recalled how his father became ill on a trip to India, and called back to Rabinowitz in Pittsburgh for advice. The doctor called his father every day for the rest of his trip to check in on his health.

"I felt like I was in such competent, caring hands," Schmitt's father said. "Such a kind and gentle man."

Rabinowitz also was the personal physician to former Allegheny County Deputy District Attorney Lawrence Claus, who released a statement on Sunday remembering him.

"Dr. Jerry Rabinowitz ... was truly a trusted confidant and healer who could always be counted upon to provide sage advice whenever he was consulted on medical matters, usually providing that advice with a touch of genuine humor," said Claus, according to CBS affiliate KDKA. "He had a truly uplifting demeanor, and as a practicing physician he was among the very best."

Cecil Rosenthal, 59, and David Rosenthal, 54, were brothers who shared an apartment in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood.

Raye Coffey, a close friend and former neighbor of the Rosenthals' parents, toldTribLIVE that the Rosenthals spent a lot of time in her house when they were younger. She said the brothers faced mental challenges and were fixtures at Tree of Life, where Cecil was a greeter.

"Cecil was always a big brother. He was very warm and very loving. Whenever he would see us, he would always say, 'Hi, Coffeys!' "

"David was quieter," she said. "But both were ... to die like this is horrendous."

ACHIEVA, an organization that works with people with disabilities said that the brothers were well-respected members of its community. Chris Schopf, who runs the group's residential programs, said the brothers never missed a Saturday at Tree of Life.

"If they were here they would tell you that is where they were supposed to be," Schopf said in a statement. "Cecil's laugh was infectious. David was so kind and had such a gentle spirit. Together, they looked out for one another. They were inseparable. Most of all, they were kind, good people with a strong faith and respect for everyone around."

Bernice Simon, 84, and Sylvan Simon, 86, of Wilkinsburg were remembered by neighbors as sweet, kind, and generous.

They were married at the Tree of Life synagogue in December 1956, according to TribLIVE.

"A loving couple and they've been together forever," longtime friend and neighbor Michael Stepaniak told the news site. "I hope they didn't suffer much and I miss them terribly."

Joyce Fienberg, 75, lived in Pittsburgh's Oakland neighborhood, and grew up in Toronto. She had two sons and was remembered as a proud grandmother.

"[She was] the most amazing and giving person," her brother, Bob Libman, told the CBC.

Fienberg was a researcher at the University of Pittsburgh's Learning Research and Development Center for more than 25 years.

In a statement on Sunday, the center called her "a cherished friend" and "an engaging, elegant, and warm person."

Gaea Leinhardt, professor emerita at Pitt, called Fienberg her best friend and told The Washington Post that she had a way of putting teachers at ease when she visited their classrooms.

"She was very intellectual," Leinhardt said. "But also people would just always open up to her in a very easy way. She was an ideal observer."

Her husband, internationally celebrated statistician Stephen Fienberg, died in 2016.

Leinhardt told the Post that Fienberg had been especially involved at Tree of Life since her husband's death. "I just can't say how terribly sad I am that this person isn't in the world anymore."

Richard Gottfried, 65, of Ross Township, shared a dentistry practice with his wife.

The two met as dental students at the University of Pittsburgh, the Post reports, and they volunteered with Catholic Charities' dental clinic. He was said to be an avid runner and had been going to services at Tree of Life more often recently.

Irving Younger, 69, ran a real estate business in Squirrel Hill for many years, and was also a youth football and baseball coach.

Tina Prizner, who lived next door to Younger in the Mt. Washington neighborhood, remembered him as "the most wonderful dad and grandpa" and as a devoted member of his congregation.

"He went every day. He was an usher at his synagogue, and he never missed a day," she told TribLIVE. "He was a beautiful person, a beautiful soul."

'Wonderful People, Good Souls': The Victims Of The Pittsburgh Synagogue Shooting

First photo: Brendan Smialowski/AFP/Getty Images

Second photo: Jerry Rabinowitz in 2013. Photo courtesy of his family.

[lilacmoon83]

A Darker Curse

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 2 Summary:

At the diner, they encounter Mr. Gold and Snow warns her children to stay away from him. Meanwhile, she gets a tip from Regina about an opportunity to talk to David. Snow learns more about what David’s life has been like under Cora’s curse and it almost cripples her with grief. Luckily her son August is there to comfort her and assure that they will save him.

Warning: There is mentions of abuse, but nothing terribly graphic. Remember, Kathryn is cursed to be the way she is by Cora. 

Chapter 2: The Curse's Toll

"David…" Kathryn said for the third time to her dazed husband.

"DAVID!" she yelled, finally snapping him out of his daydream.

"Huh...oh sorry," he said, giving her a small smile.

"You haven't touched your food," she complained.

"I know, I'm sorry," he apologized again. He did a lot of that with Kathryn. He was used to her barbs by now, but it didn't make them hurt any less. He knew what people said behind his back. He was Kathryn's trophy husband. She ran her father's bank and was extremely successful. He worked at the animal shelter and considered to be nothing without her. He actually loved his job though, but playing with animals all day was not something that Kathryn considered to be a real job.

He was the pretty face she expected to be on her arm at every town event for appearance purposes. He was expected to perform his husbandly duties and never complain. She was cold and never had a loving word for him. He was a possession and she made sure he knew it.

He wanted to leave so badly, but every time he tried, he ended up sleeping in his beat up old truck. Kathryn was friends with the Mayor and she made Granny refuse to board him at the Inn. He knew it wasn't the kind old woman's fault. He knew she wanted to help him...but Cora Mills had a stranglehold on this entire town.

"It's a good thing you're so pretty, because you sure lack in brains," she said, tossing her napkin down. That stung more than anything. Being lauded as her boy toy or called soft was one thing. But he wasn't stupid...far from it.

"You've been distracted like this for days," she mentioned. He had and it was all because of the woman he had ran into at the diner a few days ago. Mary...he couldn't stop thinking about her. She was older than him...but so beautiful and warm. And there was just something so familiar about her. She had a son his age and a daughter with her own child so he knew it was improper to have such thoughts...but he couldn't help it. She sure didn't look that old to him anyway and certainly no less beautiful.

It was more than just outward beauty too. Kathryn was what many considered beautiful and aesthetically pleasing, but she was cold as ice. She demanded things of him and took what she wanted from him. When he argued or refused, bad things always happened. He knew what other men said about him too. David was much stronger than she was, but what they could never understand was that it wasn't about physical strength. Any physical pain she had ever caused him paled in comparison to the emotional and mental toll her words took on him. It was very hard to stand up to her when he truly believed her words. That he was nothing. That he was hers to do with as she pleased. That he would be lost without her. She knew best and he was lucky she put up with him at all.

"Yeah…" he replied lamely. He didn't share his feelings with Kathryn. It only got him mocked and called names. And for this...telling her that he was thinking about another woman would only lead to bad things for him. She sighed in frustration.

"I don't have time for your nonsense tonight. My garden club will be here soon. Make sure the kitchen is spotless and then make yourself scarce," she snapped, as she went upstairs. He clenched his teeth and started clearing the table. He was so angry with himself. Why did he take this? Why didn't he just get in his truck and leave this stupid town? But then he knew why. He had tried that once and ended up wrapping his truck around a tree at the town line. That had been humiliating. When Kathryn stormed into the hospital, she had screamed at him for being so stupid. She didn't once ask if he was okay or about his injuries. She didn't care. He was trapped and she knew it. He had no money; she controlled all of that too.

As he was finishing up, he heard the women arriving for her meeting and he grabbed his coat, going out the back. He set off into town with no real destination and time to kill. And all the while, his thoughts wandered to Mary Swan, who had seemed to take up permanent residence in his mind.

~*~

Mary smiled and paid the check at the counter, as her family was finishing up. Emma was trying in vain to clean the food off little David's messy face. This wasn't easy, for her son insisted on making funny faces at her grandson, making him laugh.

"August...you're not helping," Emma complained, as the toddler sloshed his hands in the spilled milk on his tray again in excitement. August chuckled.

"Just an Uncle having fun with his nephew," he replied innocently.

"You mean ganging up on said nephew's poor mother," Emma grumbled. Mary smiled and felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. She saw that it was Regina and quickly answered.

"Regina?" she said quietly, for she couldn't be sure who was listening around her.

"Kathryn has her garden club meeting at her house every Tuesday night," Regina stated.

"Okay...am I supposed to know what that means?" Mary asked.

"She makes David leave while she's entertaining, but also takes his truck keys," Regina replied.

"Where does he go?" she asked.

"Usually he just walks around town for a while. He might get a coffee at the diner if she gave him money, but there's no guarantee with that. Usually he ends up out at the old Toll Bridge," Regina replied.

"Wait...Toll Bridge?" she asked.

"Yes...he seems drawn to it. I think you know why. I can text you the directions," Regina replied.

"So...because Kathryn is entertaining a bunch of stuck up witches, she kicks David out of their home and makes him wander in the cold? Regina...it's freezing out!" Snow hissed, as she found her way into the hallway at Granny's.

"I know...I told you that you have to be prepared for this kind of thing. My mother's cruelty knows no bounds and Kathryn Nolan may as well be a younger version of her under the curse. But I know if you plant the right seeds in him...then maybe he can start to become the man you know again," Regina said. She smiled.

"Thanks Regina…" she said, as she hung up and then read the text of directions. She started to make her way out from the hallway and then froze in her tracks, as a short man stood at the table, talking to her family. He looked up and she recognized that gleam in his eyes anywhere.

Rumpelstiltskin.

"Ah...you must be Mary. I was just becoming acquainted with your charming little family," he said.

"And you are?" she asked protectively.

"Oh, forgive my ill manners. I'm Mr. Gold and I own the pawn shop," he replied, offering his hand. She reluctantly shook it so as not to seem rude to anyone watching them. As usual, the imp was impossible to read and she wanted to punch him in the face. But she refrained. Getting charged with assault and winding up in a jail cell wasn't going to help David.

"Nice to meet you, Mr. Gold," she replied evenly.

"Yes...well, I'll collect the rent that I'm here for and be on my way. You have a lovely evening, Ms. Swan," he said, as he hobbled off toward the Inn side of the establishment.

"Was that…" Emma whispered.

"Oh yeah...that was the Dark One himself," August confirmed. Mary took a deep breath.

"And I don't want either of you anywhere near him, understand?" she asked her children. They nodded.

"I guess we should be getting home," Emma suggested.

"Actually...go ahead without me. There's something I need to do," Mary said.

"Mom...it's freezing out. You can't seriously be thinking about walking," Emma chided. She smiled at her daughter's concern.

"I'll be fine, sweetie and I'll see you all at home later," she said, as she hurried out.

~*~

David stared at the water, as he stood on the Toll Bridge. He didn't know why he was so drawn to this place, but he always came here when Kathryn made him leave the house. It was a particularly bitterly cold night and he knew she had purposely swiped his keys. It was meant to be a reminder that he was powerless and had no control over his own life or well being. Kathryn liked to remind him that he had to rely on her for everything. Money, a warm place to sleep, food...he could do nothing without her. It sort of made him wonder what he had done to deserve this life.

He tried to be a good person. He really didn't know if he was or not. He knew he was weak...maybe that was why he had this life. Surely a strong man would never let himself be treated this way. A strong man would stand up for himself, but every time he tried, the words died on his lips. And those few times where he had stood up for himself, Kathryn made him regret doing so. He looked at the burn scar on his forearm and shuddered at the memory of that incident.

~*~

"You're late," Kathryn said in an even tone. It was a tone that was much scarier than when she was yelling and he knew he was in trouble.

"I lost track of time," he replied.

"Who is she, David?" Kathryn asked.

"What? There's no one else, Kathryn...I'm not cheating on you," he replied, as he went to work quickly in the kitchen and put a pan of water on the stove to boil.

"People talk, David. They tell me how friendly you are with that waitress at the diner," Kathryn accused. He sighed.

"Ruby is just a friend...she's nice to me," me muttered the last part.

"Oh and I'm not nice to you?" Kathryn accused. He swallowed thickly, remembering what Ruby had told him. How he should stand up to Kathryn and tell her that he didn't deserve her cruelty.

"No...you're not. You're mean and controlling and you treat me like you own me! This is no life...you don't love me. Why won't you just let me go?" he pleaded. Kathryn feigned a look of hurt.

"I don't love you? How can you say those hurtful things to me?! I do everything for you, David! I give you everything! A wonderful home and life. Do you really think the peanuts you make at that stupid animal shelter could afford you this life?" she hissed.

"I don't care about any of this...someone who loves me wouldn't do the things you do to me," he said. She crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"Oh really? So what are you going to do, David? Leave me? Sleep in your truck? Because we know how well that worked out last time...you ended up almost freezing to death," she growled. He swallowed thickly.

"It's summer...I'll be fine and then maybe I can finally leave this stupid town," he spat.

"You're not going anywhere," she growled, as she knocked the pan of boiling water toward him. It splashed on his arm and clothes, causing him excruciating pain. He cried out and fell to his knees, holding his wounded arm and glaring up at her with tears in his eyes.

"I told you David...you belong to me and you won't leave me," she growled, as she looked at the mess.

"Clean this up and then we'll go to the emergency room for that arm. You'll tell Dr. Whale that it was an accident, isn't that right?" she demanded to know. The tears slipped down his cheeks and he nodded his head in acquiescence.

~*~

A tear slipped down his cheek at the memory. He hated feeling trapped. More than once he had considered ending his life to escape her, but he could never bring himself to do it. Despite the parts of his life that were horrible, he wanted to live. He didn't know why, but he had always felt like there was a reason he needed to live. He was sure that it was stupid...Kathryn always told him that he was stupid. If this was all there really was to his life, what really was the point of living?

"Hey there…" a voice said and he turned to find her there. He was stunned to speechlessness by her presence.

"Hi," he said, finally finding his voice.

"Do you mind if I join you?" she asked. He swallowed and felt his heart quicken, as she came closer. His head kept telling him, that despite her incredible beauty, she was too old for him. But his heart was doing back flips in his chest just at her mere presence.

"Not at all," he answered. She smiled and his breath caught in his throat at that, as he gazed at her and she smiled at that.

"I'm sorry...I don't mean to stare," he apologized. She smiled and felt her heart swell. Twenty years without this wonderful, adorable man in her life had been far too long.

"Don't be...I'm flattered. Gorgeous young men don't usually give a woman my age a second look," she mentioned.

"They're blind then," he blurted out and then blushed at his forwardness.

"So...what brings a man like you out here alone tonight?" she asked.

"A man like me?" he asked. She smirked.

"If I had a man like you, I certainly wouldn't be spending my evening anywhere but by his side, preferably with his arms around me," she replied.

"My...Kathryn doesn't really want me around when she's entertaining her friends," he said sadly. She frowned. Everything she had been learning about what Charming's curse had been like was a stab to her heart. It was almost overwhelming, but she managed to keep her head. After all, she couldn't just blurt out the truth to him. David was emotionally and verbally abused. She had to do this delicately, for if she told him everything too soon, he might actually think she was mocking him. It's probably what Kathryn and her cronies had spent twenty years doing to him.

"Well, I'm glad I ran into you. I could use some company on my walks," she responded.

"What about your kids?" he asked. She smiled.

"Emma isn't much for the woods and Auggie likes to work on his writing in the evenings. Plus it's almost little David's bedtime," she mentioned.

"Your son is a writer?" he asked with interest. She nodded.

"Mmm...he's actually working on a book of fairy tales right now," she mentioned.

"Fairy tales?" he asked.

"Oh, well his versions are a bit different than the ones that have been commercialized by the mouse," she clarified.

"Ah...that's really interesting. You must be really proud of him," David mentioned. She beamed.

"I am...of Emma too, though sometimes I wish she would have picked a safer occupation," she mentioned. He looked at her curiously.

"Oh...Emma is a bail bondsperson," she explained. His eyes widened.

"Wow...that's impressive," he murmured.

"What about you?" she asked.

"Me?" he asked in surprise. She smiled.

"Yes you...do you like your job wherever it is?" she asked. He smiled.

"Actually I do...I work at the animal shelter. I love it, but Kathryn says it's not a real job," he replied.

"If you like it, that's what matters. Many people have jobs they hate, but to have one that love is a blessing," she mentioned.

"Are you speaking from experience?" he asked. She smiled.

"I waitressed while my children were growing up. It wasn't always great, but it supported my babies," she replied.

"Were...were you married?" he asked curiously. Her face fell and he instantly regretted it.

"I'm sorry...that's none of my business," he said, internally berating himself.

"No...it's okay," she replied, as her hand brushed against his and he felt those sparks again.

"I was...he was the love of my life," she said, as her eyes flicked up to his. He swallowed.

"What happened?" he asked.

"I lost him…" she replied sadly.

"I'm sorry…" he said. She smiled.

"It's okay...I still have hope that I'll find love again," she answered and he found himself captivated by her and her words again. After what seemed like a lifetime with Kathryn, he didn't even believe love was real. There was no one that loved him. Kathryn said she did, but it was lies...even he wasn't dumb enough to believe that she loved him. Love was more than words. Love was actions...and her actions spoke of anything but love.

"I hope you do too...you're someone that would definitely deserve love," he mentioned.

"Oh, I think if anyone deserves to find love...it would be you too," she countered and he looked at her in surprise.

"I'm probably being too forward. I think my daughter's lack of tact has been rubbing off on me over the years, but anyone can see that you're marriage is miserable, David," she mentioned. He snorted.

"That obvious, huh?" he asked. She nodded with a look of sympathy.

"She won't let me have a divorce. Albert Spencer is friends with her and the Mayor. He's the only lawyer in town and would never take me as a client, not that I could afford it anyway," he said bitterly.

"But maybe things can be different now that you have a friend?" she asked. He looked at her.

"You want to be my friend?" he asked in disbelief. She nodded.

"I don't think either of us can deny that we've had a connection since the moment we met," she replied. But he shook his head.

"I'm not sure you want me as a friend. I'm a screw up...trust me, I'm not worth your time or anyone else's," he said bitterly.

"Well, I think you are, so whether you like it or not...you have someone to talk to now," she replied. He smiled slightly.

"Thanks…" he said, as he checked the time and nearly panicked.

"Crap...I've got to go. She hates it when I'm home late!" he cried, as she watched him start running. Her heart broke at the look in his eyes; the panic and fear and all over something as minor as being late. He was going home to that woman and Snow had no idea what she might do to him if he was late. Her heart finally couldn't take it anymore and she sank to her knees, as everything she had learned became overwhelming. She began to sob uncontrollably and soon heard footsteps. She looked up from where she was rocking herself and saw her son there.

"What are you doing here?" she sniffed.

"You don't have to be strong for me, Mom...not anymore. I know that the more you learn about David's life...the harder it's going to be," August said, as he scooped her up.

"Oh Auggie…" she sobbed, as she cried against his chest.

"We'll save him, Mom...I promise," he said.

"But what does he have to suffer through until we do?" she asked tearfully. But he had no answers for her and could only hold her.

[imagines-dreams]

Family and Karaoke - Michael Mell Imagine

Rating:PG

Warnings: Michael Mell’s big Filipino family, there are children in this story, loooots of random kissing, Tagalog words

Summary: After being with Michael Mell for a long time, it’s time for you to meet his crazy, big, loud family. Apparently, they also have a tradition that when someone brings in a date, that someone has to do something special.

Word Count: 2147

Notes:  

Tito (“Tea-toe”)=Uncle

Tita (“Tea-tah”)=Aunt

Kuya (“Koo-yah”)=word to show respect to an older male sibling or cousin

Ate (“Ah-teh”) =word to show respect to an older female sibling or cousin

Parol (“Pah-roll”)=a Filipino version of the Christmas wreath, a big light made out of different colors

Mano Po (“Mah-no Po”)=literally translates into “hand, sir/ma’am”, a sign of respect shown to elders where the person touches the elder’s knuckles to the forehead that is said to give the person blessings

Tagalog ("Tah-gah-lowg")= national language of the Philippines

Mahal Kita (“Mah-hahl Key-tah”)=literally translates into “You are the most precious thing”, means “I love you”

You smoothed out your dress for the fifth time that night. You cringed when you realized how sweaty you were. How could you not be though? You were going to your boyfriend’s family reunion for the first time. You had met his parents already, but his whole family? He told you about a few important figures. His grandma, grandpa, a few of his nieces and nephews. Oh god, but you were going to mess up. You were going to forget their names and mess everything up. They would tell him that you weren’t worthy for him and he-

“Babe?”

Your breath caught in your throat. “I’m fine.”

Michael blinked a few times before taking your hand in his. “They’re going to love you. Just like I do. I mean, who can’t love you?”

You shook your head. “I don’t know. I’m just nervous. You’ve told me about your family several times, and they seem amazing. I just don’t want to ruin anything.”

“You do remember I buy vintage collectibles, aka the things that my family thinks it’s a waste of money.”

“But they’re so cool!” You turned in your seat to face him better. “Plus, they make the basement more colorful. I mean, did you tell them that if you get the entire collection, you’re practically a millionaire.”

He smiled. “See, this is exactly why I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You giggled and kissed his hand. When Michael began to blush and stare at you like you weren’t real, you laughed and turned his head towards the road. Good thing the stoplight was red.

Michael shook his head to regain his focus. “Uh, right, we’re almost there.”

You blinked a few times. There was one house with many lights and decorations and the iconic parol Michael had told you about. There were quite a few parols, each one blinking a different assortment of colors. “Woah,” you gasped. “I think which house it is.”

Michael beamed. “It’s been that way since November.”

~ - ~

Michael wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head. “You’re going to do fine.”

You fidgetted with your purse. “Wait, so who do I do the, uh, mano po thing with again?”

“Aw, babe, just my grandparents, and anyone else who looks like grandparents.” He shrugged. “When in doubt, just follow my lead, ok?”

You nodded. You replayed the action you were supposed to do in your head. They were going to hold out their hand slightly, and you had to gently take their hand and press their knuckles to your forehead. A sign of respect and hope for luck, Michael had told you. But, what if you did it to the wrong person, and they got offended because they were too young to have the mano po done to them.

Michael gazed down at you. Noticing your furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders, he quickly grabbed your shoulders. Before you could squeal or protest, Michael pressed his lips against yours.

You whined, worried about your dress and hair, but it took less than a second for you to melt against him. His hands grabbed your hips and pulled you closer and closer, even when the two of you couldn’t be any closer. The bright lights and loud music faded to nothing, and you could just feel Michael all around you. His slight cinnamon breath and gentle lips. His hard grip turning into a gentle hold. The brief cold touch of his glasses against your cheeks.

Then, he pulled away from you, and the door opened.

“Michael!”

“Tito!”

You held your hand to your head as you tried to adjust to the exponential loss of Michael’s touch. That kiss left you breathless and slightly dizzy. The bright lights and loud music didn’t help.

Then, Michael’s arm was around you again. “Tito, this is (Y/n).” Your boyfriend blushed a little. “I’m her boyfriend.”

You blinked a few times before extending your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

The man stared at your hand. For a split second, your eyes widened, and you wanted to die under his stare. At least you’d be in Michael’s arms.

However, the man beamed. “Ah, come ‘ere!” He pulled you in for an unexpected hug and squeezed you tightly. “Finally!” He turned around and shouted over his shoulder. “Mikey got a girlfriend!”

Michael’s eyes widened. “Tito, n-”

“Kuya!”

“Tito!”

Suddenly, an army of small children appeared out of nowhere, pushed the man out of the way and tackled your boyfriend. Michael stumbled back a few steps and laughed. He called each of the kids by name, ruffled a kid’s hair, and scooped a little one into his arms.

You sighed at the sight. There were at least ten of those kids, and he was doing so well. How was he able to-

“Come on,” the man said as he welcomed you inside. “You have got to meet everyone, and I warn you, we are all huggers.”

And he wasn’t exaggerating. There were so many people at the reunion. You did the mano po to one grandparent who laughed and tried talking to you in Tagalog. When he realized you couldn’t understand, he apologized and told you that you looked too beautiful for his grandson. You hugged many people, and it seemed like every five minutes, someone new would hug you.

You just went with the flow, floating past the two dining tables of food and grabbing a plate. You floated past a room just for karaoke. The backyard was for drunk relatives and one unfortunate aunt and uncle who were trying to barbeque. Another room was dedicated towards the younger members of the family, where you finally found your boyfriend giving a piggyback ride to one of the children.

You laughed and made your way towards him.

Michael’s eyes lit up. He inhaled through his teeth and found a nice couch to set the child down upon. “Hey!” He kissed you quickly, and you looped your arm around his.

Before any other words could be spoken, four kids ran up to the two of you. “Wow,” the kids said in awe.

You smiled and sat on the ground. “Hey, guys, do you know who I am?”

They shook their heads.

Michael sat down next to you. “Can you guys say, ‘Tita’?”

“Tita,” they repeated.

“(Y/n).”

“Tita (Y/n)!” The kids hugged you and greeted you with “Hi’s” and “I like your dress’s” and “Are you Tito’s girlfriend?”.

Michael just laughed and began telling everyone stories based on video games.

~ - ~

Michael and you collapsed on the couch as soon as one of his cousins decided to entertain the younger ones. Michael patted your shoulder. “Hey, there’s video game room.”

You gasped and narrowed your eyes at him. “How dare you keep that from me.”

He laughed and kissed your cheek. “Race you there!”

~ - ~

“I can’t believe it!”

“It’s not possible!”

“I never thought I’d see the day.”

Michael and you had been the last two standing in a Super Smash Bros fight. It had been ten minutes. Each of you had one life left. No one seemed to have the advantage.

You were intensely watching your character. Your reflexes were getting better since you started dating Michael, and it felt natural to do all the combos you had learned from him.

Michael’s cousins stood around the two of you, absolutely shocked to see the video game master actually struggling.

Then, the game paused.

Someone yelled, “Oh, come on! Who pressed it?”

Michael smirked. “Babe?”

“What?”

Then, he kissed you.

You gasped, and the controller fell out of your hands. You kissed Michael and slowly reached up to wrap your hands around his neck. He pressed his lips against your harder. You had to lean back at the sudden force and ended up lifting your legs so they rested on his lap.

The voices of disgust soon turned into gasps and “oh’s”.

You pulled away, the voices too loud to ignore, and immediately slapped Michael’s shoulder. “Cheater! This is a new low!”

You were too caught up in the kiss to notice that Michael didn’t lay a finger on you. His hands were too occupied winning, while your poor controller was on the ground. Michael kissed you quickly. “It was the only way I could win.”

“You bet it was!” you yelled. You hit him with a pillow.

Michael froze. Then, he smirked. “You’re gonna pay for that.”

“Oh, really?”

Someone yelled, “Pillow fight!” and suddenly, pillows were being thrown everywhere. You caught some, threw some, and even once got Michael on the back of his head. Score!

~ - ~

“I win,” you heaved.

“I disagree.”

“Wanna bet, Mell?”

“No. You win.”

You beamed. “Thank you.”

He laughed and kissed you once before resting his forehead on yours. “I kinda wanna go home.”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah, so do I.”

He nodded. He stood up and held out his hand. “Prepare yourself, it’s going to take a while to say goodbye.”

You looked over the railing. A sea of people waited on the first floor. You sighed. “You’re not wrong.”

Michael smiled and and held you close. “Before we dive into chaos, I love you, and you were wonderful tonight.”

You giggled and brushed his messy hair back. “I love you, too.”

He kissed you sweetly and softly before trying to lead you through the crowd. You and Michael had hugged at least fifteen people before one of his aunts spoke to him in Tagalog. He replied nervously before getting interrupted by her again. Suddenly, the two of you were being pulled into another direction.

“Oh, no,” you whispered. You knew where you were heading. The karaoke room.

“MIchael needs to sing!” someone shouted.

“Michael! Michael! Michael!” they chanted. Someone pushed your boyfriend into the clearing and handed him the microphone. He laughed. “Guys, I haven’t sung in years.”

“We know!”

He shook his head and looked to you.

You opened your mouth, about to say an excuse for him, but your boyfriend shook his head and looked through the songbook. His family cheered like they had won the million dollar lotto.

Michael laughed. “I got it! I got it!” He put down the songbook. “For the record, I hate you all.”

“We love you, too!”

“Go Mikey!”

“Serenade! Serenade!”

You stared at one of his cousins weirdly. Serenade?

Michael blushed. “I know, Ate! I am, I am.”

The music flowed through the speakers, and you had to cover your wide smile. This was too perfect.

Michael took a deep breath. “Oh, her eyes, her eyes, make the stars look like they’re not shining. Her hair, her hair, falls perfectly without her trying. She’s so beautiful, and I tell her everyda-ay.”

His voice sounded so heavenly. When he sang the first verse, it was soft and gentle, almost like he was whispering it to you. Then, the chorus hit.

“When I see your face!” Michael pointed at you and beamed. “There’s not a thing I would change, cause girl, you’re amazing.” He held out his hand for you, and the crowd parted immediately. With red cheeks, you took his hand and let him pull you to the front. “Just the way you are.” Michael held your hands and pulled you closer. “And when you smile-”

You giggled and leaned back just a bit.

Your boyfriend wrapped one arm around your shoulders and motioned to the crowd, “The whole world stops and stares for a while, cause girl you’re amazing. Just the way you are.” Being the drama queen he loved being, he added another “yeah” at the end of the chorus. His family cheered and whooped, all while you kept blushing.

“Get her a chair!”

“Someone have a chair for the future Mell?”

“I got a free chair!”

A chair was pushed towards you, and you gladly sat down.

The rest of the song was spent with Michael working the crowd, occasionally kissing you on the cheek or hand, and ending the song with an impressive show of his range. When he was done, he bowed, said, “Thank you,” and held out his hand.

You smiled, your cheeks still burning from hearing Michael Mell serenade you, and took his hand. You curled up by his side as the embarrassment and happiness overtook you. You barely registered Michael quickly saying goodbye to everyone before leading you back outside. “(Y/n)?”

Still holding onto his shirt, you gazed up and giggled. “I didn’t know you could sing.”

He blushed and awkwardly swayed back and forth. “Uh, yeah, my family kinda raises everyone with karaoke.”

“I’m glad they did.” You quickly kissed him. “You have a wonderful voice.”

“Thank you.” He kissed you again. “You were amazing, as always.” He let out a short breath. “Now, I just want to watch some movies and cuddle. Ok with you?”

“Perfect.”

He rubbed his nose against yours. “Mahal kita, (Y/n).”

You smiled. “Mahal Kita, Michael Mell.”

No, I can't speak Tagalog, although I desperately wish I could. Yes, I am obsessed with Michael Mell, and yes, I love my culture so much that since George Salazar is Filipino, I will imagine all characters he plays as Filipino, (aka Michael, Grover, and Mr. D are Filipino because YESSSSS)

Also, if someone has a better pronunciation guide or definition of these words, tell me! I was staring at my computer pronouncing things for at least thirty minutes, and I'm still not sure.

[dialux]

So about that crack version of If You Try To Break Me. . . Got any snippets you'd care to share?

So, like, three hundred years later here’s the answer, nonny! I’m so sorry it took so long!

[Tywin finds out that Sansa’s captured Jaime. It doesn’t go well.]

Tywin was in the Red Keep when the news came.

In the Tower of the Hand, with paperwork coming near to his chin and no sign of stopping.

War had many effects: between all the blood and death and terror, there was also paperwork for all of it. Taxes had to be rehauled, along with census estimates. Grain had to be redistributed from prosperous areas to the war-ravaged lands. Little wonder that Jon Arryn had died of it in the end; this amount of work was for younger men, not someone who could have been Tywin’s father.

Tywin was exhausted of it himself, and he’d only been the Hand for all of a moon’s turn.

It matters not. He sighed and dragged a parchment towards him, emblazoned with the flowery insignia of the Reach. Another week, and the Northerners will fall. Another month, and the War of Four Kings shall have one king left. Another year, and the world shall forget that there was never a Lannister on the throne.

They just had to maintain their power for that long. 

Between then and now, however, there was a mountain of paperwork to finish, starting with Lord Tyrell’s request for higher tariffs on the grain sent to Dorne.

He’d just reached for parchment to pen a letter to Mace Tyrell- a scathing one, deserving of a lord who hadn’t the pride to avoid asking for charity- when a page burst into the room.

“M’lord,” he said, tremulously. “M’lord, your- Lord Tyrion sent for you.” He bowed his head, dark strands of hair falling over his eyes. “He said it was urgent.”

Urgent? Tywin felt irritation, and then a faint sort of relief when he glanced over at the pile behind him. Tyrion knew better than to ask for Tywin’s attention if it was unnecessary; and even then, had it not been truly sensitive, he’d have come to Tywin himself.

If it weren’t sensitive, Tywin would throttle his son himself. The frustration he was feeling surely deserved some sort of an outlet.

…

He entered his private chambers slowly.

It was looking more and more likely that he’d have two children left by the end of the day. Tyrion had never lacked for courage, Tywin would give him that; but he’d never had the foolishness to order Tywin to meet him in his own private chambers either. There was little that could excuse this utter travesty of-

“Father,” said Tyrion, bowing from the middle of Tywin’s fucking bedchamber. He flicked his hand, dismissing the page, and nodded to the door. “You’ll want to close that.”

“Will I?”

“If this is true-” he waved a letter, mismatched eyes glaring up at him, “-you’re not going to want everyone to know.”

“There are very few things I want everyone to know,” Tywin replied, as even as he could make the words. 

Tyrion twisted his lips. “It certainly sheds light on the situation,” he said. “The Starks were aiming to come south as quickly as possible and then they stopped, didn’t they? They moved their forces up to the Riverlands, is what half our scouts are saying. Which didn’t make sense, not until- this.”

Again with the letter-waving.

Did Jaime- Tywin realized, abruptly, what the letter must contain. He must have succeeded.

Though why Tyrion still looked so grim…

Tywin lifted one eyebrow. “The war is won, then. Your nephew shall sit the Iron Throne, and there shall be none to stand against him.”

The only question now was whether to kill Robb Stark, or to graciously forgive him. Or, Tywin thought, mulling it over, graciously forgive him and then kill him- preferably quietly, with poison. 

Rumor could be as great a tool as a sword- greater, in the right hands, and Tywin was a master. The Stark girls would come south with Jaime and the half-dozen Westerland heirs with him; Robb Stark would die within a moon’s turn of the North’s surrender; Joffrey would take the throne, and the Lannisters would reach ever-higher heights. The only songs sung of them would be of their greatness.

“The war,” said Tyrion contemplatively, stopping Tywin’s thoughts cold with the smugness in them, the smugness he’d never been able to hide when he knew something others didn’t. “I never thought you’d be this foolish, but- tell me, did you truly send Jaime off with the Boltons?”

Tywin stared at him, and then turned around and shut the door. No one should have known that. The only letter Jaime should have sent once his triumph was finished was a single line. “Who told you that?” he demanded.

“This letter did.” Tyrion waved the damn thing again. “This letter, addressed from Riverrun.”

Riverrun. Jaime would have sent a raven as soon as he’d done what he needed to do, which should have meant a raven from Last Hearth. Not Riverrun, the base of almost the entirety of the Starks’ rebellion.

“What does it say?” he asked hoarsely.

There were a hundred scenarios running in his mind. If Roose Bolton betrayed his son, Tywin would raze the Dreadfort to the ground if he has to light the match himself. If Ramsay Snow messed up what ought to have been the simplest covert operation in the history of Westeros, then Tywin would flay the stupid man until he was more blood than skin. If-

“Jaime was captured,” Tyrion said.

“By who?”

“The Starks.” He smiled, nastily amused. “I forget their names, quite honestly. What was it that Cersei called them? The wolf-bitch and the fainting flower?” He snorted. “The two of them apparently had advance warning, closed the castle gates, and led a mounted army of- well, the letter’s not clear but they are calling it the Battle of the Valkyries, so I’m assuming there are some Valkyries involved.”

“The girls?” Tywin asked, aghast. “Not even the second son- he got captured by two girls?”

He gripped the table, as much for support as for the sharp pain of splinters. 

Tyrion’s face tightened, and he tossed the letter to Tywin. “How many men did you send with him?”

“A hundred,” he answered absently, skimming through it. Tywin could feel the blood roaring in his ears when he saw the statistics.

“Only thirty survived,” said Tyrion.

Tywin didn’t have names, but there were at least seven heirs who’d gone with Jaime. It had been Tywin who’d approached them with the plan, with war-time brides and stolen ladies; it had been Tywin who’d promised their fathers of the safety of the mission; it had been Tywin who’d sworn that there would be nobleborn girls that could become proper wives for their sons.

The lords had jumped for it, yes. There was a lack of women in the Westerlands, by a complete stroke of fate; if the nobility weren’t careful, they’d have to look at hedge knights and crofter’s daughters for any children. This had seemed like the answer to their prayers.

And now he wasn’t entirely certain the seven fools had survived, let alone succeeded.

“Are there any demands?” he asked, before skipping to the end of the letter and reading it for himself. 

It was horrifying.

My demands are simple, wrote Robb Stark, as if anything between two kings could be simple. I only wish for it to be known that Joffrey Lannister- here, Tywin hissed in rage; how dare the idiot boy call his grandson by a name that he did not have a right to!- is undeserving of his crown, and for peace through the realm. Fly white banners from the Red Keep’s walls, and there shall be no more battle.

“I will strip the skin from Robb Stark’s skull,” Tywin said coldly, before reaching out and throwing the letter into the fire behind Tyrion. 

He ran his tongue along his lips and imagined his son, who was thrown behind enemy lines, safely ensconced as far from Tywin as was geographically possible in the North. There had been only one time before this in which Tywin had all but tasted the blood in the air- when he’d imagined himself a lion in all but skin- when House Reyne had risen up and he’d read of Ellyn’s defiance. And now, now he could taste the copper and the sting, and he knew it was but a matter of time before the end.

Whose end? He wondered, watching flame consume the black ink and parchment, until all that remained was the scarlet wax-seal, of a direwolf mocking him with its longevity. It matters not, he decided then, and straightened firmly. I shall battle them, and if I am to die I shall die- but I shall take as many as I can with me.

“We’ve lost this war,” Tyrion said flatly. “It would be best to heed his demands.”

“We’ve lost this war,” Tywin agreed, before smiling, sharp and smooth as a lion’s mane. “But we have our pride. If the Starks wish to capture the Lannisters, they shall have to pay for every step in blood. We are lions. And when challenged- we do not surrender.”

Tyrion- he paled, at what he saw in Tywin’s face. Yes, he’d know; Tyrion had always been interested in the lion cages beneath Casterly Rock. He’d read the books in the library as well. He’d know what Tywin meant, who Tywin was quoting.

Loreon Lannister had been a lion in all but form. There was little known of him; he’d lived so long ago, and there were so many contradictory stories- but one thing they all agreed upon was that of his words, shouted upon every battlefield that he’d ever swung a sworn on.

A lion does not surrender, he’d said. A lion wins, or dies.

Tywin was many things, but he was a Lannister first, and being a Lannister meant being a lion.

He had no intention of surrendering.

#Anonymous #my writing #if you try to break me#i think i have another snippet of the nedxrhaella ship that jon accidentally falls into as well so look out for that piece of hilarity#also really honestly look up male:female ratios of the post-robert's rebellion generation PLS#it's horrifically skewed #so MANY boys and like five girls#so yes the westerlands need women and they're stealing them from the north which solves two problems with one stone#it's a good plan on tywin's part#had sansa not been so ballsy... it might have worked

[byroncarter]

Hi Firstly, I'm not sure whether you are Turkish or not,if you are you can totally answer in Turkish because I'm also Turkish😂. I've been following your blog for a while and I've seen that you are into Star Wars/Kylo Ren/ Reylo and Hileon.Both are my current obsessions and I wanted to ask for your opinion on The Last Jedi,since it's highly criticized among fans, and all those Reylo moments (in case you're a Reylo). I've really enjoyed it and think it was a good movie with little weak moments.

Hello!!

First off, yes I am fluent in Turkish, but since you asked about Star Wars, it’d be easier for me to answer in English, since I’m more used to talk about it in English, and feel like I lack a bit of the “terminology” in Turkish. :)

I’ve heard that TLJ was being critized among fans. Personally, I really enjoyed the movie, I thought it was awesome. It had really interesting twists and scenes.To be honest, I was always more of a “casual” Star Wars fan: I loved the movies and the prequels, I knew all about the universe, but I wouldn’t have called myself a hardcore fan, like I am for Marvel.But since the new movies, TFA and TLJ have come out, the franchise has struck my interest pretty intensely, because I just looooove analyzing and interpreting and researching the parallels and symbols and homages and references in the new movies, compared to the old ones.I’ve seen some really interesting fan-theory videos that made awesome comparisons: Like the parallels between the Obi Wan/Anakin fight in Revenge of the Sith (where everything around them is fire and reminds of hell) and between Rey/Kylo Ren in TFA (where the environment is the literal opposite of hell: They are fighting in the snow).I always thought Kylo Ren was meant to be an homage to Anakin Skywalker, especially to Anakin in Revenge of the Sith. Maybe Kylo Ren will be a “reverse-version” of Anakin? Anakin’s love to Padme was a great factor that pulled Anakin to the dark. Maybe we’ll watch his grandson finding his way back to the light through love to someone.My dear friend @midnightstarsky suggested that BOTH Kylo Ren and Rey might be homages to Anakin, representing the conflict between his dark and his light side.

While thinking and speculating about all this, the Literary Arts student in me is in DELIGHT. All those stylistic devices they are using, all the messages and all the references to the older movies are fascinating to me.I love it when something old gets picked up and reversed and remade and continued, while still paying tribute to where it all began.

Moving on to Reylo…Ah yes, the ship that overwhelmed me, before I even knew it. I’ve been shipping the two since I saw TFA, because the subtle (or not so subtle) chemistry and tension between the two characters was hard to ignore. After watching some theory-videos on YouTube, I was all the more fascinated. Not just about the ship, but also about the two characters. Kylo Ren has always been such an intriguing character to me: His occasional outbursts of rage, that reminded me more of a youngster who just had too much energy in his body, rather than a cold, controlled villain. His appearance that reminds me more of a medieval Knight (especially his lightsaber, that reminds of a medieval sword).And then his scenes with Rey. The way he pickes her up bridal style (there are some pretty awesome theory videos on YouTube that analyze that), and the interrogation scene where Rey sees his face for the first time and how Ren was more “polite” towards her (“You’re my guest.”), something that reminded me of Knight-ish behaviour again.And then Rey… the abandoned girl, that grew up on Jakku as a nobody and found new purpose in the Resistance. The idea that she naively, desperately waited for her parents to come back, and that she seeks a family, a place of belonging for so long. The happiness that radiates off of her in her scenes with Finn and Han. Like a Rey of sunshine :’) And then the way she feels drawn to the dark, which we saw more in detail in TLJ.

I think TLJ picked up all the great stuff we saw in TFA pretty interestingly. The Force bond between Kylo and Rey was very symbolic (someone on ao3 made the tag “The Force ships it”, I laughed for 5 minutes straight). A flawed Luke Skywalker was captivating. It was unexpected and made the plot all the better, in my opinion. Especially in relation to Ben Solo. The scene in the end, where Luke appears to help the Resistance? Awesome.I am a huge fan of the game Luke played on Ben: The way he appeared in his younger state, that would remind Ben of the time he tried to kill him. He did it to provoke Ben and he succeeded: Ben forgot all about the Resistance and all he wanted was to destroy Luke, the man who was the reason he turned to the dark fully, in the first place.I think the fact that Kylo Ren HATES Luke Skywalker this much, shows us more than anything, that Ben Solo isn’t dead. Because it was Ben, it was the nephew, it was the CHILD, that Luke betrayed. Therefore I even would go as far as to say: The boy on the ship, ordering to put every gun that they had on “this man” wasn’t Kylo Ren. It was Ben Solo. It was a hurt and disappointed and abandoned and angry child.

This is getting far too long, okay, I’ll wrap this up by referring to the theme of “Letting the past die” in this movie.Interesting how all sides, both light and dark, seemed to say the same thing, just paraphrased during the entire movie, isn’t it? “Let the past die.”We saw this message in Luke Skywalker who turned away from being a Jedi Master, and was reluctant to come back. We saw it in Master Yoda, who said Luke shouldn’t mourn old books, he should focus on the future not the past.And we saw it in Kylo Ren, who told Rey to “Let the past die, kill it if necessary. The Jedi, the Sith, everything.You’re still holding on, let go!”Even though Kylo Ren’s offer looked like a temptation of the dark that Rey resisted (and aye, Kylo’s imagination included a tad darkness, what with the whole “we’ll rule the galaxy together” part and stuff. But I mean, old habits, die hard), I think the ESSENCE of what he was saying had a deeper meaning. We had a long conversation about that with @midnightstarsky, about how the Jedi and the light were also flawed and open to corruption. If the light was as perfect as they want to have you believe, it technically shouldn’t have been possible for men like Anakin Skywalker or Ben Solo to be tempted by the dark.The flaws of the light where what gave villains like Snoke the chance to use it against Jedis and draw them to the dark.Think about Leia and Han and Luke failing to protect Ben. They are an extremely dysfunctional family and I think that dysfunctionality comes from somewhere.The whole system seems dysfunctional. The Jedi, the Resistance, the First Order, the Sith.So maybe it will be better to let the past die?Maybe the relationship between Kylo Ren and Rey will lead the two of them to create a new order, a new perspective and a new balance between the dark and the light side of the Force.

I can’t wait for the third movie and see where this will all go and how they will wrap up all the things that happened so far.

This got WAY too long. Thank you so much for your question and for reading!! :)Have a wonderful day.

[charmedtheselfproclaimedking]

Charmed Again: Season 2 (Charmed Fanfic)

Episode 2 - Back to Black: Part 2

Warnings: I don’t own the rights to any of the characters from the hit TV show “Charmed” or the storylines related to the show those rights belong to original creator Constance M Burge.

15+ Moderate/Graphic Displays of Violence, Sexual Innuendos, Witchcraft and Potentially Triggering Scenes.

PART ONE HERE

“I’m so glad I managed to learn to close my door,” Paul said as Drake blink into his office room within the Stevens and Summers Law firm’s building.

“Listen I felt bad about ditching the family brunch earlier so I was thinking maybe you and I could go grab a really late lunch/early dinner?” Drake replied.

“You want to go somewhere with me?” Paul asked in shock, as he stood up with excitement. “You never want to do things outside of Charmed duties with me.”

“Well I was thinking considering my birthday’s popping up soon we should probably have some long overdue father and son time.” Drake suggested nervously. “I mean if you don’t have the time, we can always do it another time.”

“Oh no I’m completely free in fact I’m free all day my schedules just been wiped clear.” A delighted Paul responded.

“Okay but considering I’m the son and our first birthday under the same roof is coming up I think it’s only fair that you pay…dad.” Drake told his father making Paul’s face light up by being called dad by his son for the very first time before rushing over to Drake and giving his son a hug.

“I don’t understand if Drake’s finally deciding to celebrate his birthday on Halliwell the day he was actually born then why can’t you just stay until then?” Pan asked her grandmother Piper as they began sorting the table in the kitchen for dinner.

“I had to pull so many strings just to get down here now but clearly I came when I was needed most.” Piper explained to Pan. “Drake’s birthday going forward is about his future, this family’s future and I’m pleasantly placed in the past.”

“You’re always going to be in both my present and future grams.” Pan promised her, making Piper smile at her granddaughter’s kindness.

“Oh, honey I know that but I don’t belong here anymore my time has passed and I’m happy where I am now it’s truly wonderful to watch over you all while finding a peace that can’t be described.” Piper revealed to her just before Quinn orbed into the kitchen much to their shock.

“Hey girls I sure hope you’ve missed me like I’ve missed you all.” Quinn said with a smile before he was instantly greeted by a hug from Pan.

“Of course, we’ve missed you,” Pan admitted before breaking off their hug. “Wait this doesn’t mean Lacey’s fired does it?”

“Thankfully your aunt Paige managed to convince the other elders I would be beneficial in helping Lacey become the best white lighter possible and that with the source and the triad hot on your trails having two white lighters was better than one.” Quinn revealed to Pan and Piper.

“Not that Lacey isn’t a delight as a white lighter even though she was rush trained unlike any other white lighter.” Piper said to them both. “But I’m really glad to have you back Quinn I just wish they never lost you in the first place, but the elders tend to be jerks like that.”

Drake and Paul walked into the foyer of the Halliwell Manor laughing away at themselves happily for a moment until they both notice Piper and Pan stood with the recently returned white lighter Jason Quinn leaving Paul shocked and Drake instantly furious.

“Listen Drake I’m so sorry I never came to say goodbye after being relocated but I didn’t want to anger the elders anymore.” Quinn apologised while walking towards Drake.

“You’re not even worth the energy needed to get mad at you!” Drake coldly replied.

“Trust me when I say there hasn’t been a day that’s gone by since I last saw you that I ever stopped trying to return here.” Quinn promised his charge in front of his father, aunt and great-grandmother.

“What made them change their minds suddenly?” Paul butted in, curious to know the answer.

“I had to promise I no longer had feelings for you,” Quinn revealed to Drake. “And even if I still did to never act on those feelings again.”

“Sometimes there’s questions you just shouldn’t ask brother.” Pan told Paul.

“I guess you made the right decision for everyone then.” Drake replied to Quinn. “Because Lacey clearly needs some training and I’m sure as hell not interested in being anything with you ever again.”

“I guess this means a nice family meal is going to have to wait until I’m next summoned back from the dead.” Piper said with a frustrated sigh.

“I don’t mean to be the nosy grandmother…” Piper began to say as she walked into the kitchen to see Drake sat at the kitchen table holding a large glass of wine.

“Then don’t be.” Drake interrupted before taking a large drink from his wine.

“Quinn’s not a bad guy and sure he didn’t say goodbye after being relocated by the elders, but his heart was breaking having to leave you.” Piper told her great-grandson as she sat down next to him. “That man is in love with you and I know you love him too.”

“Look today’s actually not been the worst day despite Quinn’s sudden return which I’m so not ready to talk about right now.” Drake admitted before finishing his wine and placing the glass down on the table. “But I do want to thank you for what you did for me today I can’t begin to tell you how incredible it was to see my mother again. I never realized just how much self-hatred and loathing I had gathered inside since losing them only for it all to somehow to be soothed with just a few moments with my mum.”

“That’s because you got to speak with your mum and a mother’s loving words is sometimes all a child really needs.” Piper explained to him. “Nobody around here would ever dare trying to replace your mother or your father we just want to extend the family you already have.”

“I know grams, or should I be calling you great grams?” Drake asked making Piper smile by his acceptance. “I’ve never actually had a grandparent before.”

“I’d love for you to call me grams.” Piper happily told her great-grandson.

Several Weeks Later

Drake walked into P3 to see Nina Nesbit on stage performing her song loyal to me while everyone within the club were dressed in a variety of different Halloween style costumes before he moved through the crowd of costumers before making her way to the family both to see his father Paul dressed as a pirate, his aunt Pan dressed as a devil and his best friend Lacey dressed up as an angel all sat within the booth and drinks in their hands.

“I guess this is us just crash landing into Halloween without any caution.” Drake said to the four of them before noticing Quinn dressed as the grim reaper while working behind the bar.

“He offered to work so Pan could have the night off to celebrate with her nephew.” Lacey told her best friend as she walked over to Drake. “You know what I’m going to tell you to do now right.”

“He really is a great guy Drake even if he messed up a little.” Pan was next to butt in. “You don’t have to do anything other than not hate him.”

“Just add him to your forgiveness list please.” Paul asked his son before Drake began walking away back into the crowd as Paul, Pan and Lacey continued to watch Drake to make sure he walked over to Quinn and not towards the exit.

“The irony of you dressing as the grim reaper is not lost on me.” Drake said to Quinn instantly delighting the white lighter just by talking to him.

“Thank you.” Quinn replied with a sincere smile.

“When it gets less busy around here feel free to come and join us.” Drake invited him. “Maybe we can try being friends.”

“I’d really love that.” Quinn admitted.

“I guess this means we’re all back to playing happy families again.” Lacey said to Paul and Pan as the three of them continued to watch Drake and Quinn talk to each other from over in their booth.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Pan replied before kissing Lacey. “I’ll just settle for no world war three happening at home anytime soon.”

“I don’t know even that seems like an awfully big ask.” Paul joked.

“I’ve got to admit managing to not only get Quinn back as the charmed ones’ white lighter but convincing them to not relocate Lacey as well must have taken a lot of work especially considering I don’t think witches have ever had more than one white lighter before.” Piper said to Paige as they both appeared within the clouds up above. “I just wish those damn white lighter and demon rules were overruled already.”

“Oh I will be working hard on breaking those archaic rules you can believe me there I’m just not sold on Drake and Quinn being right for each other especially after everything that’s went down between them in fact I think the best thing for both of them is to be alone.” Paige replied to her older sister. “I know forbidden romance is kind of your song considering you did marry Leo, but I don’t think their like you two.”

“Paige you were always so cynical when it came to love.” Phoebe interrupted as she appeared next to her sisters. “You should know by now that some of the most epic loves come with many complications.”

“Is this you still trying to justify your ill-fated affair with Cole Turner?” Prue asked as the fourth original and eldest charmed one appeared in the clouds amongst her younger sisters. “Sometimes complications are just signs to quit a guy you should’ve learned that from Cole after all it’s not like that had a happy ending.”

“I was meaning with my husband being cupid and me being a witch and somehow we made that work.” Phoebe replied, defending herself. “Although admittedly the elders did send him to me but that’s beside the point.”

“Well I for one think Drake and Quinn are meant for each other clearly my great-grandson takes his taste from his mother.” Piper told her three sisters.

“Well you did also date a demon, but I don’t think he’s been getting with any ghosts...yet.” Prue joked with Piper.

“Hey!” Piper shouted at her eldest sister.

“Well I for one think this is just the beginning for Drake and Quinn.” Phoebe said in agreement with Piper.

“I don’t think it’s the ending, but I sure think it should be.” Paige revealed her opinions to her sisters. “Because the longer it’s dragged out the more painful it’s going to become for the both of them.”

“Or maybe they’ll get their happy ending like me and Leo did.” Piper argued with her youngest sister.

“I agree with Paige let’s just hope this is the end of it all once and for all.” Prue said standing up for her youngest sister.

“Of course, you would,” Phoebe scoffed at Prue. “You’ve always been the most cynical out of all four of us.”

“I believe the right term is called practical something our descendants can learn a lot from being.” Prue replied to Phoebe.

[thediabeteschronicles]

the meaning of life

oh life, where art thou. funny im back after a few years. like im drunk texting an ex but probably more healthy than actually being drunk and actually texting an ex. I’m one and a half months away from 4 years without a drink of alcohol (unless you count that time i accidentally coughed while gurgling mouthwash that was terrible). pretty safe to say that by now im firmly set in my decision to never drink again. in fact its been so long that ive started to understand things about myself that i didnt realize before, things that may have drove me to drinking the way that i did. you cant really say this to alcoholics because they think that theyre like everyone else but theres nothing wrong with drinking on its own. some people are great at it responsible, moderation, plan ahead and all of that stuff and then you have the “atleast im not puking in the gutter” crowd wich is very much where i was, puking in the gutter that is. im a very introverted person, it takes way more to unlock me than it should take a normal person. drinking seemingly did away with that. cool new friends who liked me, something to do every weekend, people to be with, i had absolutely no idea what i was doing, and in fact i still dont. its probably pretty safe to say that i completely replaced drinking with Magic The Gathering. who saw that coming lol. in my haze of insecurity and low self esteem lately ive sort of looked at that as a bad thing, like i could be doing more for myself like something more productive with my time. but ive started to appreciate what it means to actually be involved in that game. without realizing it it gives me somewhere to be, people to be around, and a healthy hobby to focus my mental energies on, even if im not the best of best im kind of... not there to win all the time as much as im there just to have somewhere to be. i have a little 5 year old nephew. im so glad he has never or will never see me drunk and out of it. a kid is funny. many people have many opinions on the subject. on the surface they can seem like way more than anyone could ever want to deal with. but there are things i cant explain. i cant explain that feeling when you look at a little guy chewing food for instance... i took him to costco the other day with his gramma, my mom, and i waited in line for a membership and i looked over and hes just sitting there chunching his pizza down with his little head just turning everywhere just looking at everything and all i can think is what is his little brain doing right now how does he process this what does he think.  or when hes watching something on tv and starts laughing uncontrolably something happens to me that fascination of his sense of humor his molding into a little person that thinks things are funny, oh my god he talks hecka good now. he asks the tough questions like if santa brought me gifts why where they wrapped in gift wrap that i see in your room LOL, i felt like when i get pulled over and the cop finds weed and asks if ive smoked in the last 24 hours im like um ,noooooooooo.... little guy is also a very large part of where my mental energies go, even though i mentioned magic first lol. being a 90′s kid so very still connected to what childhood was in those times for me, im driven to sort of give him something similar. im at the helm sort of, of making his little universe the coolest it can be. i get to be the uncle that gives him that extra peice of candy or lets him stay up past his bedtime till he passes out or buys him the cool toys he sees on commercials. the sense of responsibility to provide for him is a very good energy to have in my life. even though he isnt all the way mine he is like one or two steps down from being mine lol. you can say what you will about kids, maybe you dont want to have them but i do see now what those parents say when they say that people without kids dont understand, they dont understand that the shitty parts of having to deal with kids are no less shitty but theres is a greater force at work there, something that fills a void. something greater than you is happening at that moment, someone is fully and completely dependent on you to make sure they dont die. this force has helped me. like fuck my self diagnosed depression fuck the way i feel i cant do anything for anybody, i could never have him look at me and say hey can we do this and have me be like naw man im all bummed out im just gonna lay down. things havent been all the way peachy but to cover everything that happened since the last time i blogged would take 12 other blogs the size of this one. that being said i got an offer to move to wyoming and actually almost took it until i told my BFF about it and he quickly got me a job lol. i am so lucky to have that friend and im so klucky to have this job now. literally the convo went hey man shits rough probly move to wyoming friend can get me a job there and hes like what you need a job heres one lol. im not religious or anything but my grampa told me, Mijito a job is a gift from god. but ive evolved past my rabbid preachy atheism (in person) to realize that in his day religion was a powerful force and the economic situation he had in his life was probably very different to mine but what he meant was yo grandson a good job is a very good thing. in his day jobs were laborous and demanding, i sit at a desk answer phones and type on a computer and do math problems... lucky doesent begin to describe it. the road is still bumpy like it is paved with stone. ive seen the third world in the flesh ive smelled it ive felt it ive heard it ive tasted it ive touched it. ive had to read reports of cartel shootings lootings and burnings where my mom is from. ive driven from here to mexico along the way you see the poverty you see the despair you see the gap, but you also see the hospitality you also see people driven to do anything for a little change, kids selling candy on the street trying to clean your windshields trying to hustle anything up. kids my nephews age younger even. we have one shot, and the roll of the dice put me where so many would wish to be in life. compassion and understanding must be the attitude held in life. we must strive to appreaciate what we have because its all we have and we are all in this together. to quote pops from Luke Cage’s tv show, always forward, forward always.

[janiklandre-blog]

Wednesday, April 5, 2017

10:15 a.m. beautiful weather - had a lovely breakfast at Veselka - with my Austrian artist friend who I think will not object to me mentioning his name - Stefan Eins - he is known by many and I congratulated him on his fame. I first read about him in the NYT in the 1970's - he had ventured into the South Bronx then burning - google South Bronx, an interesting NYC borough - and Stefan rented space there and called his venture Fashionmoda - I'm sure it is a webside - a courageous undertaking at the time. Later my German friends Marlis and Petra were talking about a Stefan while we were riding back from New Paltz, NY - must have been early 2000"s - and the next day I was in copy shop on East 7th street (now victim of the recent explosion there), mentioned Prague and Stefan addressed me - he was born in Prague - when I lived there, about 10 at the time - and later grew up in and around Vienna. He says my German reminds him of the Prague German of his mother and for many years now I've gone to openings of his shows, met him at events - at the time of the wedding of my younger son he agreed to drive me to the wedding and he was much enjoyed.

At intervals we meet for breakfast at Veselka - a Ukrainian restaurant, corner 9th and second avenue (my Ukrainian home next door) - Veselka was started by Ukrainian displaced persons 60 years ago. When I moved in with Paco in 1973 it was a very simple place with a back room that was somewhat secret, you passed through a small corridor and not many people were there - prices  were low - I even read there once upon a time - and then if my memory is correct I think the owner was mrdered on the way to the bank - when this here was a high crime area. Forget his name. Nevertheless in the 90's when New York was on the wave to what now is an expensive, trendy city, yes - Trump city - billionaires from all over the world parking their billions in real estate here, then we have all the trust fund babies whose parents also rode on the wave to affluencr - tourists galore - Veselka now big and overrun - in tourist guides - we each had a small coffee, he had a cooklie and I one of their huge croissants - the check more thsn ten dollars - still cheap in comparison to what you now pay in my favorite cafe in Vienna - name may come to me again - at the bottom of Prince Eugen Strasse where my mother lived. I always felt surrounded by spies there and loved it. Stefan and I caught up on our 

lives - he is an interesting man and may join us tonight when I plan to hear Deanne sing at Nomad. Stefan said I looked unusually relaxed and in good spirits - I gave Pim the credit.

This here house has a fire alarm test today - the fire alarm must go off 14 times - and it is rather restless.

I am amazed that I was relaxed - this constantly restless city is more restless than ever - when I went up for my op on Monday Lexington Avenue was all torn up, 80th street was all torn up, this constant loud drilling that I hate, huge machines - our infrastructure is on total overload with the endless new and huge houses - some 80 stories high - thst are being built for the billionaires who don't know what to do with their money - Manhattan is a rock, google the dimentsions - around East 34th practically a new city is being built, Hudson something - all buildings have swimming pools and undreamed off luxuries - saunas and what not - most of it of course standing empty because the billionairees have houses all over the world - Stefan was saying he has a strange feeling in his stomach that he remembers having as a small child - his father was at the German front in Russia, shot in the lungs, a bullet missing his heart by fractions of inches - and he said this odd feeling is now coming back to him. It all is very scary.

My life has been in motion. Yesterday before going to the church I called French Christine - her apartment is practicslly next door to the church - and lo and behold she csme - of course Christine style 15 minutes late - I am compulsively on time - she and other people I've known barely make it to airplanes before they leave - now you are supposed to arrive two hours before departure to be thoroughly checked ( now of course there are private planes - no controls at all, you just walk off Teterborough N.J. that I know) - but I always had to arrive at least an hour early - same with trains, buses) - but she made it and the Polsh people are incredibly friendly and forgiving of late comers. Over lunch - at a big round table covered with oil cloth - familiar to me - the lunch $1.25 - she told me of her truly countless troubles - worst of course her health problems and her problems with her large French fsmily - but - trying to hang on to a rent stabilized in New York from Paris, takes some doing.

She, in her 70's now, took this apartment 40 years ago - in German we do have a proverb : Stadtluft macht frei - city air makes you free - when did cities begin to come into being - in what we call the middle ages, after 1200? - New York in particular long has been a city, especially when life here was good on the shoe string - that made many feel free - in Paris whereever she went there was a member of her huge family - she the oldest of nine - countless uncles, aunts, cousins - I think 40 nephews and nieces - wherever she went someone reported on seeing her - New York was liberty at last. Her apartment is on the top floor, steep five flights, of what we call tenement buildings - built in the late 19th century for the great influx of workers - still, she did turn into a charming place - great view before a higher building went up - her French family loved visiting there and came in droves - but now it seems a Spanish nun who was staying there turned it into a total mess - her doctor wants her to return  to Paris for more tests as soon a possible - her landlord has been harrassing her as long as I have known her - what can say - she never has had a computer, did go to the library here, stopped using computers - anyway, sorry Christine fot perhaps saying unjust words here earlier - my heart does go out to her - nobody really expected to see her in New York again - last of them the Spanish nun - who hopped on a plane to Spain.

It was a drizzly day, I stayed home, reading newspapers - still having trouble trouble reading - finally took a walk to Washington Square - deep listener never showed up again - a bit chilly, sat there briefly, to AT&T - phone company - tp change message on my cell phone - so many people now have a lengthy machine message with their phone number - mine now says, this is Marianne, I catch your voice mail now and then, take your chance - waiting for reactions.

Did buy spinach salad greens and cooked them, good, a piece of salmon - half of it still upstairs - will go and eat it - call Christine tell her I am not coming to the church but remind her of Deanne singing, she wanted to come. At 2 meeeting grandson in warm sunshine at Washington Square Park - he studies now Urban Planning at NYU on Washington Square Park - it makes me happy to meet him - remember holding him as little baby and he was saying aya, aya, aya yah - sounded like a Jewish lament - I putting great hopes in him - that he now is realizing. Wish I could have been more with him and his brother while they were growing up -always at least 160 or more miles away - next door by California standards - and luckly not in Califronia. In this vast land here - so many are so far apart - he loves New York and already knows much more about the city than I do.

Floaters in front of my eyes - telling me - get away from the computer   adios  Marianne