#a good woman never resents what shes meant to want more than anything

[quillkiller]

not me pulling out laura mulveys essay about visual pleasure and narrative cinema in the gc and going on about how women are always passive and men are always active in the narrative structure. we’re talking about lily evans btw! imagine having more of a buzzkill friend than me

[axeeglitter]

Back from the Vault: Forbidden Love

Luke and Nathan had always been close, best friends since kindergarten when Nathan stood up for Luke against a bully named Josh. Their bond had only grown stronger over the years, and now, as college roommates, they were inseparable. Their small apartment was a mess of dirty socks, sports gear, and magazines, but they didn’t mind. It was their first place together, and they cherished every moment.

Both were in good shape, though Nathan was more muscular, often walking around campus shirtless, much to Luke’s amusement. Luke, though less physically imposing, was proud of his friend. But when Luke met Abby during their second semester, everything changed. For Luke, it was love at first sight, and since he spent all his time with Nathan, their duo turning into a trio was inevitable. But things started to evolve as Nathan, the athletic charmer, and Abby, the spirited cheerleader, began to take an interest in each other. After a couple of weeks, without Luke noticing anything different, Nathan came home one night and announced the good news to Luke that he was no longer single.

Initially, Luke was happy for Nathan. Abby was the perfect girlfriend anyone would dream of, and even though it was painful for Luke to see his best friend live the love story he had envisioned for himself, he was glad Abby was with someone like Nathan. However, as time passed, Luke struggled to find happiness watching them spend time together and seeing their relationship evolve and deepen. He couldn’t control the thoughts that crept into his mind when he was alone, and the guilt weighed heavily on him. He knew he couldn’t betray his best friend, but his feelings for Abby and the pain of this sense of betrayal only grew stronger each day.

One night, struggling with his emotions, Luke went to a bar to drink alone. The place was dimly lit and mostly empty, save for a woman sitting at the bar, surrounded by empty martini glasses. Her presence was almost otherworldly, with a mysterious aura that drew Luke in. She wore a long, elegant black coat above a black suit, her silver hair cascading down her back like a waterfall of moonlight. Her eyes, sharp and filled with unsettling wisdom, never left his as he approached.

Luke sat down next to her, ordered a drink, and before he knew it, he was spilling his heart out to her, confessing his unrequited love for Abby and his growing resentment toward Nathan, thanks to more beers than he could count. The woman listened in silence, her gaze never wavering from Luke’s face. When he finished, she smiled, a thin, knowing smile that sent a chill down his spine.

“I’ve seen men like you before,” she said, her voice low and smooth. “Men who want what they can’t have. Men who let jealousy consume them. Men who dream their lives instead of living their dreams.”

Luke shuddered, suddenly feeling as though he was in the presence of something far more powerful than he had anticipated. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he felt tears of frustration beginning to rise in his exhausted eyes.

The woman reached into her bag and pulled out a small, ornate vial filled with a strange, shimmering liquid. The liquid seemed to pulse with a life of its own, shifting colors from deep violet to bright emerald as she held it up to the light.

Luke hesitated as he held the strange vial the old woman had given him. He looked into her eyes, seeking some explanation for what this potion would do. The bar was dimly lit, and the shadows played tricks on his mind, making her seem more otherworldly with each passing moment.

The woman leaned in closer, her voice a low whisper. "This potion is powerful, but it won’t work on its own. You must mix it with alcohol, something strong, something your friend would drink willingly. Once he consumes it, his transformation will begin."

"Transformation?" Luke asked, unsure of what she meant. "What will happen to him?"

The woman smiled enigmatically, her eyes gleaming with a mix of sympathy and something darker. "He will change, Luke. Everything will change into something else, something that will remove the pain you feel, something that will ease it, something that will be useful and loved, cherished by the masses and needed by the world. He will change into something greater, and you will get your desires. But be warned: once the transformation starts, there’s no turning back. He will become anything that the potion sees fit, and you will finally live your dreams instead of dreaming your life," the mysterious woman said in an eerie voice. Luke could hear echoes of her voice resonating in his mind as his vision was blurred by the alcohol and the tears.

Luke swallowed hard, his mind racing with possibilities. He wanted Nathan out of the way, yes, but he hadn’t thought through what that truly meant. Still, the jealousy and frustration gnawed at him, and the idea of finally having Abby to himself was too tempting to resist.

"How… how do I control it?" Luke asked, his voice trembling slightly.

"You don’t," the woman replied. "The potion will cater to his master’s needs, his deepest desires. It will bend reality to fit what he truly wants. But remember, Luke: once it’s done, it’s done. There is no undoing what you will set in motion."

Luke nodded, unsure of what to say. He took the vial on the counter, his head tilted, his sight lost in the shimmering emerald and purple glitters of this liquid hope. “I don’t even know your… name,” Luke asked, but as he tilted his head, he realized the woman was not there anymore, leaving him alone at the bar. The bartender claimed not to have seen her, and Luke wondered if he had imagined the entire encounter. But the vial in his hand was real, and the temptation was too great to resist.

When he returned to the apartment, Abby was asleep in Nathan’s arms. Her head was resting on Nathan’s shirtless chest, her shoulders hugged by his hairless, muscled body. A wave of jealousy and anger washed over him. His hand tightened around the vial in his pocket as it started to glow with a faint green light. This was the last straw for Luke, and the potion activated to this feeling of jealousy and loneliness.

The next morning, while Abby was still asleep, Luke approached Nathan in the bathroom as he got ready for the gym.

“Hey, bro, you free tonight? I want to have a few beers with you, just the two of us,” Luke suggested, trying to sound casual. Nathan, a bit surprised but touched by the offer, was about to decline when Luke started again. “I don’t want to be sentimental or anything, but you are my best friend, and I just want to have a night like the good old days. We are growing up, and I don’t want time and relationships to put distance between us. I miss you, bro…” Touched by that, Nathan couldn’t say no. He looked into Luke’s eyes and realized that Luke was sincere, even more so because he never opened up about his feelings like that. Nathan smiled before answering, “Sure, man. It’s been a while since we hung out, just us.”

That night, as Luke and Nathan sat in the bar, Luke couldn’t shake the woman’s warning. He had mixed the potion into Nathan’s beer just as instructed, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and fear. They laughed, clinking glasses as they always had before saying in unison, “Bottoms up!” Luke forced a smile, masking the turmoil inside him, watching intently as Nathan downed the beer in one long gulp. As they continued to drink and laugh, Luke almost forgot about the potion. For a brief moment, everything was like it used to be: him and his best friend laughing, talking about everything and anything, and remembering their good old days. Luke started to notice subtle changes in Nathan. His movements became sluggish, his speech slightly slurred—nothing out of the ordinary after a few beers, but Luke realized it was more than that, and a deep feeling of joy started to rise inside him. His past was with Nathan, but his future would be with Abby. Nathan jumped off his chair all of a sudden and started to walk as best he could to the empty bathroom. By the time he reached it, he was struggling to stay on his feet, his head spinning uncontrollably. "Bro, are you okay?" Luke asked, feigning concern as he followed Nathan with calm, unbothered steps. Nathan groaned, gripping the sink for support. "I don’t know… something feels off. Like… like I’m burning up inside." Luke’s heart raced as he saw Nathan’s skin begin to redden, almost as if it were boiling from within. Sweat poured down Nathan’s face, his body trembling as he sank to his knees on the grimy tiles. "What’s happening to me?" Nathan gasped, his voice strained with pain. “I don’t know, bro, maybe you drank too much…” answered Luke as he saw Nathan’s transformation starting to appear.

Suddenly, Nathan screamed in pain as he felt his spine starting to hurt. A crack, and another one, then one more, again, and again, and again. Nathan felt like each of his vertebrae started to separate from each other before growing and thickening. The pain was awful, and for a moment, Nathan couldn’t breathe anymore. He fell on the grimy ground in front of the sink and tilted his head toward Luke with a pleading and terrified look. He needed help, but as he opened his mouth to call for his friend, a new series of cracks started to resonate in his bones. Nathan looked in front of him as his feet started to crack. His favorite pair of shoes felt constricting. It was almost like something was crawling inside as he saw the leather starting to boil, and then, with one loud ripping sound, his shoes vanished into dust, leaving his transforming bare feet on the cold tiles. His toes started to crack, elongate, and thicken. His feet started to grow thicker and longer as he went from a size 42 to a 47 in a couple of seconds. They looked way too big and disproportionate now, and as his nerves started to grow in them, he knew that it was only the start of something far worse. Nathan tilted his head once again with tears of pain in his eyes and found the strength to ask for help. But as the tears were starting to fall on his rosy cheeks, the only thing he saw was the vicious smile of his childhood friend.

“Do you know how hard it is to dream of something and never be able to get it? Do you know how hard it is to always stay in the shadow? Out of all the people on this planet, I really thought you were the one who would always be there for me. But instead, you ended up being the one that caused me to suffer the most. You remember how things were easy before? How we were happy and spending time together? Bros before hoes, right? Well, I think you forgot, and the worst part is, I can’t even blame you. Abby is a pearl. She is kind, talented, beautiful, smart. She is everything. And you knew I had feelings for her the moment my sight landed on her. But no, as always, you have everything, and I stood there, watching you live the love story I deserved. If at least you were still spending time with me, things would have been easier. But no! You had the perfect girlfriend, the perfect college life, and I stood there begging for crumbs of the life we could have had together. The best years of our lives, right? I don’t see how this can be the best. Standing in your shadow and sharing a bathroom as bonding time. Well, tonight it changes. Tonight, I get what I want. And you’ll finally understand what it feels like to dream your life instead of living your dreams,” said Luke with a sigh full of anger and pain.

Nathan realized at that moment that he wouldn’t be able to get any help from Luke because he was the one that caused it. As he tried to get up on his bigger, larger feet, a new pain appeared in his legs, and he crashed back on his hands and knees as the same thing started to happen to his pants. They started to boil, and all of a sudden, they exploded into dust as he stood there in his underwear with his hands next to the toilet seat. His legs started to boil—the bones shattering and reforming into stronger, thicker ones. His muscles boiled and reformed into massive ones that could crush watermelons between them.

Then the same phenomenon happened with his shirt and torso. All of a sudden, he was nearly naked in the dimly lit bathroom. His new muscled body glistened with drops of sweat and tears of pain as the final cracks echoed against the tiles. His new stronger, calloused hands stood still on the cold floor.

Nathan took a moment to realize the cracking had stopped, and he spasmed as he could breathe a bit better now that his ribs were done rearranging. He blinked and his back contracted as he tried to get up, but as he put his new sole on the ground, he felt Luke’s hand on his muscle-spasming back, forcing him back onto his hands and feet.

“I don’t think you are ready yet,” Luke said with anger in his voice as he realized a new change starting to unfold in the center of Nathan’s back.

Out of nowhere, Nathan started to feel a stinging sensation in his back where Luke saw the start of the change. Then, just like a wave crashing on the shore, the sensation began to grow and move all around in a circular motion, leaving in its wake a more golden natural brown tan. As the wave of stinging started to reach the front of his body, Nathan realized, screaming in fear, as his pale white skin began to change to a natural golden tan. As the wave passed through his muscled pecs, his nipples took on a brown cherry hue. Then, as the wave finally reached his legs and hands, Nathan turned his hands to look at his palms, noticing a faint demarcation as the inside of his hands was taking on a lighter golden tan than the rest of his body. The tingling then started to get worse in some areas of his body. His armpits, legs, pecs, happy trail and crotch began to burn. It was as if he were being burned alive, and sweat started to pour out of his pores, but instead of water, millions of tiny follicles of dark, dense hair began to be activated by the wave of change. Nathan felt the hair starting to scratch against his new sensitive skin, and he could even see some of his thick pit hair spilling out of his pits.

Nathan’s breath was intense and fast. He felt the transformation moving, and he was frozen in pain and fear as he felt the wave finally reach the base of his neck.

As it started to move, his face began to change. His lips started to grow and inflate as they took on a natural cherry color. Then his nose cracked and reformed into a stockier, bigger version of its old appearance. Nathan could smell a faint odor of blood as his sinuses cleared and grew into a bigger cavity, resulting in a better sense of smell. Then his eyes were touched by the stinging sensation as his vision went white. For a moment, Nathan thought he was blind as the wave was rewriting his eye color and sight, changing from blue eyes with fairly normal eyesight to a deep, velvety chocolate color and perfect sight, protected by thick dark eyebrows. All of a sudden, it was as if Nathan could see the world in high definition. The minimal details of his tanned skin on the back of his hand were clear; he could see the definition of his skin pores and the smallest grain of dust on the white tile beneath them. He would have screamed in surprise and joy if it weren’t for the wave moving on even further, engulfing his scalp and his dirty blonde hair, transforming them into wavy, almost curly black long ones after what a beard started to grow on his new masculine cheeks.

The stinging wave was finally done, and all of Nathan’s skin was now a natural golden tan, leaving him from a white Caucasian to a perfectly tanned Latino man.

Out of nowhere, as Nathan heard Luke laughing behind him, he found the strength to get up and pushed Luke against the tiled wall with his forearm against his neck.

“What have you done?! Turn me back! Now!” Nathan screamed in a menacing tone at what he thought was his best friend.

But all he heard in return was Luke laughing as he realized Abby wouldn’t be able to recognize Nathan’s new physical form. For a brief moment, Luke thought his problems were gone and he’d finally be able to be the main character of his life.

“It’s okay, bro. You might be angry right now, and it’s totally normal, but look at you—you have a perfectly muscled Latino body now. You literally look like a Mexican god. The world is yours, and you can have anyone, anyone except Abby, of course.” As Luke finished his sentence, he saw Nathan open his mouth with anger and tears of betrayal in his eyes. He looked at his best friend in the eyes and there he saw it—a shimmer of purple and emerald green light that turned some kind of light off inside Nathan’s brain.

As he was about to talk again, Nathan felt his strength leaving him. His grip on Luke weakened, his head started to spin, and he almost fell back on the ground if he hadn’t found support on the sink.

“Come on, bro, don’t try to trick me now. Look, I know it was maybe a bit too far, but look at your body. You should thank me, honestly. Have you seen your muscles?” said Luke in a genuine tone, not realizing Nathan was going through another transformation. After a couple of seconds, where Luke continued to explain how this could be a chance for Nathan, he realized he wasn’t getting any responses. Doubts began to rise in his mind as he asked in a genuinely concerned tone, “Bro, are you okay?” Luke felt fear rise in his heart as he saw Nathan’s head tilt in the mirror and noticed the same green and purple hue shimmer in his eyes' reflection. “What the fuck is that?” Luke thought loudly as he saw the shimmer disappear, leaving Nathan’s eyes lost and searching for answers. They didn’t know what was about to happen.

Nathan started to see flashes of memories in front of him: his parents, Abby, Luke and him in kindergarten, football games, his favorite movies. It was as if his life was flashing in front of him before being stuck in a distant place, still there but harder to reach, present but not as vivid as it had been. Nathan was slowly losing the grip of his reality as he realizes his body was getting harder and harder to control, he could feel his body gripping the sink and moving his head but was not able to control those actions. Then he heard it, a thick deep manly voice with a Latino accent in it.

“Is everything okay?” Luke asked again as he took a step closer to the sink.

"J-Javier," Nathan stammered in a low, almost inaudible tone, his voice now laced with a heavy Spanish accent. "My name is… Javier."

Luke felt a stab of guilt twist in his gut as he watched Nathan’s memories and identity slip away, replaced by the persona the potion was molding. "What are you talking about, Nathan? Don’t play with me,” said Luke as he took another step forward. But as Nathan tilted his head up, Luke saw the same purple and emerald green shimmer in the mirror reflection of Nathan’s eyes as it vanished once more. “Nathan, no… Stop playing with me, say something," Luke said again, with a concerned look.

Javier shook his head, still trembling from the lingering pain. "No… I’m Javier, I’m… your bro... Nathan… getting hard to control... Ja… I can’t fight… Javier’s stronger… I feel… everything… Help me… I…."

Luke’s breath caught in his throat as he realized the full extent of what he had done. Nathan was being erased from reality in favor of this new Javier identity—someone entirely different, molded by Luke’s subconscious desires and the power of the potion.

Luke tried to find a way to stop this, as he didn’t want it to go this far, but Javier was already stronger than what was left of Nathan’s mind, his new body fully formed. He felt a warm tingling around his crotch as the dust left from his previous attire started to agglomerate and create a floral swim short, the fabric barely containing his newly enlarged cock. The dust then moved around his neck and wrist as it turned into necklace and a bracelet before going on his right forearm where it agglomerated under his skin to form an intriguing tattoo design shimmering with purple and green before fading to a neutral black and grey. He looked at Luke with a mix of camaraderie and newfound confidence before scratching his balls and putting his cock in place and moved closer to Luke.

"Bro, I’ve gotta get back to work. Always nice meeting fans, even more when they are as sexy as you. Hope you enjoyed this moment as much as I did." Javier said, his accent thick and natural as he kissed tenderly Luke on the cheek and adjusted his thickening erection contained in his way to short shorts.

Before Luke could respond, Javier pushed open the door and stepped out of the bathroom into the bar. Instead of finding it busy with college guys drinking and cheering on a football match, Luke was assaulted by thumping bass, guys cheering, pulsating lights dancing on the walls, and what looked like a stage with a pole dance bar on it. Javier strutted onto the stage, the crowd cheering as he began to dance, his every movement a testament to his new identity.

Luke stood frozen in the bathroom, the weight of his actions crashing down on him. He had wanted to get rid of Nathan, but he hadn’t anticipated the cost: the loss of his friend and the creation of a new reality where Javier now existed in his place.

As he staggered out of the very busy club, a woman dressed in a sharp black suit appeared beside him with a martini glass in her hand, her eyes gleaming with unsettling wisdom.

"You did well," she said, her voice filled with dark satisfaction. "Javier will thrive here. He was made for this life."

Luke’s stomach churned with guilt and regret as he realized the woman was the one he had met at the bar, except this time she looked much younger than when they met the day before. "How is it possible? How are you so young?” Luke asked in a surprised and intrigued way. The women only took a sip of her glass with a faint smile and her skin started to glow before starting to tighten around her face. In a mere instant she looked a couple of years younger, now being in her early 40’s.

“You see,” she started to talk in a calm way, “if there is something you can’t stop, it’s time. But fortunately, I found plenty of years ago a way to buy some. You didn’t only force your best friend in an unwilling life, no… You gave me all the happy years he could have gotten. And let me tell you, they are … tasty!” she finished as she took another sip.

Luke realized that she wasn’t drinking martini but Nathan’s life force: “But… it wasn’t supposed to go this far. I wanted him to change in order to get Abby, not turn him into… this for you to take everything from him. You said all I had to do was think about what my heart desired. I didn’t want that; he is my best friend, and I’m not a monster. I didn’t mean for it to go this far. I wanted him out of the picture, that’s all. Not erasing him from existence and my life."

The woman’s smile was cold, almost pitiful, as she began in a serious, very calm tone. "You got what you wanted, Luke. Nathan is not a problem anymore, and you are finally able to be with Abby. For the transformation, though, I never said Nathan would transform into what your heart desired. I said he would transform into what the master of the potion wanted, and you were never the master. It was me all along. And what I really needed was a new gay Latino Gogo dancer for my club. Now, thanks to you, Javier belongs to me. He will dance here, night after night, for as long as I wish. And you… you must live with the consequences of your actions. See? Everybody respected their promises. But I’m not a monster. Nathan is still alive; he just doesn’t have the game control anymore. Think of him like a VIP passenger on the cruise that is his life now."

Luke turned and looked back at the stage, where Javier was lost in the rhythm of the music as men of all ages were throwing money bills at him. His body moved with a confidence that had never been Nathan’s as he grabbed his tight swim short and started to remove it in front of everyone, letting his manly Latino cock out for everyone to enjoy the view. The reality of what Luke had done settled heavily in his chest.

As the woman turned to go back into her club, Luke grabbed her arm, desperation in his voice. "Who are you? Why are you doing this?"

She pulled her arm free with a calm, calculated grace. "I am the owner of this club. And this is how I recruit my dancers: through the greed, envy, and lust of men like you."

Luke’s eyes widened as the truth hit him. He had been manipulated, led down a path of destruction by his own darker impulses. And now, Nathan—no, Javier—was lost to him forever. As Luke was about to beg one more time for things to be returned to normal, he felt his phone in his pocket vibrate. As he took it out, he saw a picture of himself and Abby kissing on the beach. He opened the new message he had just received, only to read from Abby <3: “Where are you? It was movie night tonight. Did you forget? Come back, I miss you…”

Luke turned once again in the direction of the club and watched as the metallic door shut closed on the laughing woman before starting to morph into a thick brick wall, muting the music and the cheers of the customers. The club was gone forever, never to be seen again.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey everyone! As I mentioned before, I'll continue releasing new, refined versions of the stories I published before they were taken down.

I hope you enjoy this new version of Forbidden Love—I absolutely loved working on it.

As always, feel free to share your thoughts by sending me DMs or messages. Your likes and reports are much appreciated!

A big thank you to @tf-vigilante for helping with the pictures.

Let me know if you'd like a continuation of this story, or any of the others I've posted. Don't hesitate to send me your ideas—I always enjoy reading them, and I'll do my best to bring your vision to life.

Until then, take care of yourselves, and see you real soon with more new content! ;)

[silmarillaure]

Headcanons about Jaehaerys & Alysanne's children

Daenerys

Daenerys was a dragon dreamer but died too young to realize it.

She bore a heavy resemblance to Daenys the Dreamer who she was named after.

Aemon

He really did want Rhaenys to be his heir but was painfully aware of Jaehaerys's misogyny. He only hoped for a grandson so his line wouldn't be displaced incase he died before Jaehaerys.

Aemon stood on business when it came to his loved ones & would've decapacitated Corlys for cheating on Rhaenys if he found out.

Had a hidden darker side to him that manifested in Caraxes's volatile nature.

Baelon

Baelon was a very good dad, it's not his fault at all that his sons turned out so horrible.

He's not misogynistic, but he's not a feminist either (I'm never forgiving him for not standing up for Rhaenys).

Aemond resembles him a lot.

Alyssa

Alyssa was completely a girl's girl and would never have been ok with Rhaenys being displaced even if it meant she'd become Queen consort or her son would be King.

She married Baelon when she could have had Aemon, her brother who was the heir, she wouldn't hurt another woman, let alone her niece for ambitions sake.

Daemon was her favorite son but she actually would not have been proud of the person he grew into (B&C would've disgusted her).

Maegelle

She only paid as much attention to Daella as she did because she felt Daella was the only sibling who loved her.

Aemon was nice but too busy to have time for her, Baelon & Alyssa couldn't make their disinterest in her more obvious, Vaegon was very heavily introverted with a serious case of rbf, Saera was bratty and inappropriate, Viserra was haughty, & she was fully grown by the time Gael was born.

Vaegon

On the spectrum but high functioning.

Alysanne partially blamed him of Daella's death. She never outwardly said "you killed her" or anything but it messed with his head. Even if you're not close to your family, having the feeling your own mother resents you doesn't feel nice.

Had a falling out with her after Viserra's death. He wasn't close to his second youngest sister but being aware of how Alysanne mistreated her coupled with seeing how she treated Gael made him realize he wasn't the problem, he never was.

Admired Maegelle's intelligence but never understood her devotion the the faith.

Was grateful Jaehaerys let him do what he wanted, but he never believed he was missed. They were always pretty low contact so it felt like Jaehaerys wrote to him out of obligation, and then suddenly after Baelon dies Jaehaerys is writing to him nonstop and always asking him to visit and then offers him the throne. It always made Vaegon question "does he love me or am I just all he has left?"

Daella

Dyslexic and had severe anxiety.

A dragon dreamer, but she didn't have any major dreams other than her own death.

Saera

Saera was Jaehaerys's favorite daughter until their falling out but was still neglected because a favorite daughter does not compare to a son for a misogynist like Jaehaerys.

While loved, she was neglected by Alysanne as well & took it out on Daella for being the favorite.

Not a feminist but the type who believes she should be treated better than other women like Rhaenyra.

Named one of her sons Maegor.

Viserra

Heavily neglected by both Jaehaerys and Alysanne. (poor girl)

The only reason she was vain about her appearance was because no one ever let her to find self worth in anything besides it.

Was not actually close to Saera, they felt pitted against each other being of similar age, having similar-ish personalities, getting similar amounts of attention from guys etc... only Viserra was prettier & Saera was smarter.

Surprisingly liked and was a good big sister to Gael though.

Gael

Gael looked like Daella, was sweet like Daella, & was small and fragile like Daella... so she basically got treated like a Daella replacement by Alysanne.

She was braver than Daella though, & more rebellious.

Also on the spectrum, but completely disinterested in general studies like math, science, & geography which Vaegon liked.

Hyperfixated on music. She was initially charmed by her traveling singer lover/the father of her child due his talent.

Tried to get away from Alysanne as much as she could because her mom was overprotective & isolated her a lot.

Was inconsolable for months after Viserra died. Later when she found out the specifics behind it, her opinion on Alysanne soured.

Was never close to Jaehaerys despite him being the one who insisted on having her because he was disappointed she was a girl and immediately lost interest.

[maidenvault]

I am cursed to care more about female characters than the films they’re in are asking me to and just want to rescue them from sexist filmmakers all the more when they’re badly served…Having seen Gladiator II shortly after a rewatch of the original, I’m just so bummed about Lucilla. :(

In both these movies this woman is always having to explain herself to big muscly men who can solve their problems by stabbing people for ostensibly sitting at the side of the current awful emperor(s) in order to survive, protect her son, and use what little power she has for good. Maximus never wanted to rule and was possibly just going to go home and leave Commodus alone if the guy hadn’t gone after him and his family. He didn’t really care about anything but revenge until Lucilla convinced him he could try to weaponize what influence he has as a gladiator to help restore power to the Senate like her father wanted. And she’s gotten her husband to keep serving the Emperors when he hates it so they can play the long game and plan a coup. But it’s Dad whose memory and legacy she has to beg her son to care about if he can’t forgive her for abandoning him (for reasons that are never well explained but surely weren’t her fault).

Ridley Scott’s always been capable of incredible visuals and action but been kind of a bad storyteller. If he’d had his way there’d maybe be even less to Lucilla’s character; he always resented the studio making him add more of a romance between her and Maximus, thinking it ruined the idea of the love he has for his dead wife. Not only does it obviously not do that ‘cause she’s dead and he doesn’t share anything with Lucilla but some wistful moments showing what might have been, but I don’t care about the dead wife. The beautiful, idealizing images of his home and family are powerful in their own way - I’ll admit I think it serves a purpose that they feel so abstract and unattainable even before his family’s dead - but she doesn’t even have a name or any dialogue.

But when Lucilla tells Maximus she’s felt alone and fearful her whole life except when she was with him so many years ago, I feel for her. That makes the relationship mean something, even if she never was to him what he meant to her. It makes me care about her that she had to be so strong for so long and she never gave up on trying to bring back some semblance of democracy in Rome.

But then she loses her son, she marries a good man who loves her only to have to helplessly watch him die, and she’s dangled in front of Lucius to be protected in the arena before getting killed by the bad buy to further galvanize revolt and serve the rivalry between Lucius and Macrinus.

I know these movies aren’t even worth this much thought but I just keep thinking of how the treatment of Lucilla is such a striking example of what I’m always saying: heroes are typically inspired by how their fathers lived and motivated by how their mothers die. Even when the mom did do some stuff that matters.

[bvrninghill]

INGRID "IGGY" BAKER. 48, consulting engineer @ woodside heights. intro & wanted connections under the cut !! + biography. pinterest. threads. musings. portraits.

CHARACTER INFORMATION —

full name: ingrid baker nicknames: ingrid, iggy, gray, give her some ! DOB & age: 08 / 29 (48 years old) zodiac sign: virgo sun / aqua moon / aqua rising gender & pronouns: cis woman & she/her pronouns sexual orientation: kristen wiig from bridesmaids vc lesbiiiiaaan occupation: "consulting engineer" / professional chill girl neighborhood: woodside heights length of residency: on and off, 10 years 3 positive traits: scrupulous, self-sufficient, upright 3 negative traits: impulsive, resentful, vindictive char inspos: ben wyatt ( parks and recreation ), charlie ( poker face ), penelope stamp ( the brothers bloom ), rachel ( his three daughters ), clare ( tiny beautiful things ), tbd when i get the vibes down pat ok

SUMMARY —

trigger warnings: religion/religion-typical homophobia, parental death, near-fatal accident, brief drug abuse mention. a raging lesbian of the thorogood work boots-carabiners-levi’s jeans variety who has never held a real job in her life. the middle child of seven children, and with public school teachers for parents, ingrid was raised with a militant frugality and a penchant for falling through the cracks. the side effect of this combination, of course, was a real proclivity troublemaking that she cannot quite get rid of ( an abundance of those feats are concentrated mostly on her catholic school years, though ). a bit of a reckless do-gooder with a green thumb, her enthusiasm for geology was funneled into something of a real career by way of world-weary guidance counselors and teachers who just wanted her to play nice. she's got a BS in geological engineering and a PE license that she uses to this day, if a bit sparingly — by working three-month and six-month contract jobs at the time ( assessing rock quarries? aquifer testing? feasibility studies for new roads and highways? ya name it ). outside of work, her life is a bit of a mixed bag, with more failures than successes. be that ( 1 ) an ill-fated trail running career lost to a near-fatal accident that turned her into a niche microcelebrity, and at least got her a book deal that made it into the NYT bestseller list - before being overshadowed by yet another white woman self-help memoir; ( 2 ) a string of failed relationships, she who has never quite beat the u-haul lesbian allegations; or ( 3 ) a failed engineering firm ( is a consulting engineer really a real job? who's to say ). sure, iggy sometimes gets antsy about the sorriness of her existence — and that she is so far from where she is supposed to be — but loneliness is overrated. she chalks it up to the pains of living. life, such as it is, goes on.

HEADCANONS —

big outdoorsy type. she has a worryingly large edc collection (think knives, multi-tools, watches). if she isn't lounging on her couch, she's probably off climbing a mountain or deep diving. whichever is closer.

she has been called at least once by the fire protection bureau as her home is a bit of a fire hazard. loves reptiles. has a little terrarium set up for her three crested geckos named kiki, dolly, and marsha. is looking to get a little snake just for kicks.

has been diagnosed with ADHD but mostly goes unmedicated - she doesn't have a *real* routine to speak of, anyway, and her contract jobs last just long enough for people not to pick up that she really isn't meant for anything long-term.

kind of has a penchant for being attracted to women who ruin her. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ falls hard, falls fast, but gets over heartbreak quickly. (not.) what can i say. she's here for a good time — i'm not sure about a long time.

she loves geology. part of why her book's reception had been so lukewarm was that she was probably writing to the wrong audience, AKA people who hang onto oprah's book club recommendations and dream of their own eat-pray-love era. people were inadvertently subjected to her five-page meditations on the importance of sapphire crystals, and for that, she's slightly apologetic. what she is, really, is a science communicator through and through — of the jennifer ackerman-temple grandin-louis theroux variety. while some of her instagram stories have gone viral precisely because of it, it hasn't panned out into a real career

lowkey a tax evader but we're not gonna talk about that.

has at one point in her life inadvertently become a stepmom via a lesbian situationship which culminated in her becoming the PTA president in an elementary school district.

intense, energetic, drinks a lot of caffeine. no smoking no drinking no drugs just high on life. okay, fine, she does weed but that’s it. alright and maybe a silly little coors light each time she runs by a convenience store (golden, co native represent ❤️), but that’s it!

WANTED CONNECTIONS —

WLW x MLM friendship you'll always be special to me.

people who go to her usual haunts—the penalty box, fisherman's landing, the farmer's market, the library, the park, action avenue <3

people at the university who've caught her auditing classes / even audited your class, maybe. academia's biggest enemy is a girl who once ghostwrote for a living and now has all the free time in the world.

neighbors in woodside heights. i promise she is not a real menace and definitely does not blast radiohead and bjork at 3 am. on the plus side, though, she is an amazing cook.

people who know her from her #niche microcelebrity days as a trail runner who had a semi-viral fatal accident and had only a big lesbian breakup, fractured bones, a book deal, and a semi-viral the north face ad to show for it. alternatively, someone whom she has online beef with in a reddit forum.

exes, hookups, flirtationships, etc.

crushes would also be very funny. she's kind of unhinged with her crushes, sorry.

EXISTING CONNECTIONS — 

ALEX WALSH / fellow outdoorsy pal - iggy and alex kept bumping into each other at trails and other hiking hotspots, and she's let fate run its course. friends it is!

AMOS HASSAN / neighbors. iggy became the cartoon trope of floating towards the smell of something great cooking in a condo unit and the rest is history.

BEAR LUDLOW / the literal bear to iggy's feral cat energy. besties who connected with the woods. cue long stretches of silence disrupted only by birdsong!

CASSIDY WALSH / girlie whom she just loves to annoy, perhaps to the point of overwhelm, but is one of her closest friends. maybe more. but feelings r icky.

DANIELA CRUZ / iggy makes up for her impropriety as a neighbor with great sex and a mean casserole, or vice versa. gotta keep the neighbors fed, so to speak.

EVERETT GRAY / dog park buddies. friends(?). that iggy does not actually have an actual dog, and instead just an unwitting dog whisperer, is beside the point.

FELIPE FELIZ / one of her bro friends (🤘), felipe is the person that iggy relies on whenever she just wants to have a chill time — whether that's drinking, smoking, or the occasional fishing.

KIRAZ KUTLAR / iggy is a big fan of hers. yeah yeah yeah a lesbian into women's soccer? talk about fork found in kitchen !!!

LORELAI MAXWELL / iggy currently audits several of her classes. mayhaps flirts in the interim — can't a 40-something student have her fun???

MADELYN GARNIER / one of her newer friends in town, their dynamic is relatively uncolored by complication.

NICOLA GRIMM / met each other through their kids (well, honorary kid in iggy's case) playing hockey and have been rinkside yappers ever since.

SENNA HARTLEY / old friend that iggy's known since their twenties whom, over the years of passing thru each other in the night, has become a confidante. r feelings there? we shall see <3

TANNER PRESLEY / outdoorsy friend whom she regularly hikes with. loves her no BS energy so much, too bad the friendship is a ticking time bomb :(

TOMIKO SAKURAI / iggy's a regular (menace) at novelty, and tomiko's got a silly little crush that completely disarms her.

ABOUT THE MUN — penned by laine. gmt +8. they/she.

[opinionsbyaf]

ABORTION; THE NEGATIVE EFFECTS! As I sit here on my lanai relaxing waiting for the storm to arrive I slip into my inner self and go into deep thought, thinking about life and where it has taken me, things I have done, things I wished I'd done, and things I wished I had done differently. What comes to mind strangely enough is the now hot-button political subject of abortion! What a strange subject to just pop into my head in deep thought! Or is it? As my mind dives deeper I see the direction to where it's going. I always say that I have absolutely no regrets in life, cause everything happens for a reason, and we are meant to learn lessons from everything that happens to us, good or bad! As I think about it, I do have a regret, actually two! I was party to two abortions, and my regret is not with the decision to get one, even though the final decision was the woman's, the decisions were sound both would have had difficult lives, to say the least! My regret is the stupidity that ultimately led up to having to make such a heart-wrenching decision, one that I think of every day!! And that's the God's truth!! This was many years ago, and it still bothers me to this day!! I would have had two more sons!!!

This brings me to the purpose of my writing today! As I sit here in thought it comes to me that if the abortion laws that are presently on the books today, even after the defeat of Row v Wade more than half of my immediate family would not existed!! First, my brother Jimmy most definitely would have been aborted! That means that my nephew Jimmy and his daughter Amber would not exist! His brother Philip and his newborn daughter would not exist, and neither would their sister Gina and her two kids! That would have been seven more people lost from one abortion! Let that sink in for a moment!! You may be saying how do you know that your brother would have been aborted? Simple, if you think about the era the 50s, my brother was born in 1950 to a woman out of wedlock!! Do you think an unmarried woman, in the fifties would have had the baby given the choice, especially a twenty-four-year-old? Then there's me six years later! My mother hooks up with this tall handsome sailor on leave oh no, she's pregnant again! Only this time she threatened him! Marry her or she'll tell her brothers! My uncles at the time were men you didn't want to mess with and my father knew this, so the shotgun wedding ensues. If the laws were on the books in 1956 there would have been no wedding, there would have been no abuse, there would have been no resentment that my father had for me, and there would have been no beatings on my mother or us! I would have been aborted! That means my son Vinny would not exist neither would my two grandchildren. Only God knows how the lives of the rest of my stepchildren would have differed. The lives of the other people's lives that I've touched throughout the years. The woman that I saved her life from a mugger/rapist when I was thirteen would most certainly have been killed! One life affects so many, it's like a waterfall effect! Also, if I were aborted, there would have been no shotgun wedding! That means there would not have been the birth of my sister three years later!! She would have been an innocent casualty in this whole abortion mess as well as her children and grandchildren! That means, my sister would never have been conceived, nor would her three children and so far her two grandchildren! So, from two abortions we have lost an additional sixteen people so far, what does that translate to in the future? How much would that number grow? Out of the people lost, what did humanity lose, what inventions, what great politicians, what great doctors, what great anything?? The possibilities are endless!!! In my opinion, abortion has its place! It should be a medical and moral decision ONLY! If the mother is in danger of her life if the baby will be stillborn, incest, or rape! Reasons such as these, NOT as a contraceptive!! In today's world with all the technology and contraceptives available unwanted pregnancy issues should be in the past!!! If abortion was legal in the fifties I would not be here to annoy you with my stories and opinions, wouldn't that have been great!!!??? Just food for thought people! Now take a look into YOUR family see who you think would have been aborted and how it would have affected your life or your family's life, and leave me a comment! Thanks for reading!!

Anthony Fioranelli

[diddgery]

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom called Capreya. Renowned for its military strength and abundance of precious metals, Capreya was a prosperous kingdom, and nobody prospered more than King Astor. A selfish and power-hungry ruler, King Astor extorted the people of his kingdom to increase his wealth, and flexed his military might so that the neighboring countries would capitulate to his trade demands.

King Astor's son, Prince ██████, was raised to follow in his footsteps, but could never quite live up to his expectations. Despite his best efforts, the prince was weak-willed and fearful. King Astor restricted the prince's freedoms and forced her to study the art of warfare so that one day, she could lead the kingdom just as her father did.

But the prince resented her father. She resented her mother, and the very concept of royalty. When she would be paraded around to the various towns and cities of Capreya, she would see the injustices wrought upon the people. She saw them begging in the streets, she saw them going home empty-handed and hungry, she saw them being forced to enlist in the military because there was no other choice for them. And she hated it. She hated that this was the world she was born into, that this was the world she was meant to inherit. She hated that her parents had the power to change things, and yet continued to enforce this system. It disgusted her.

As the prince grew older, her discomfort with the world turned inward. She began to resent her own body for changing in ways she never wanted. She hated looking in the mirror and seeing someone who looked like her father. Sometimes she wished she had been born a girl instead. But when she tried voicing these concerns to her handmaid, the king and queen found out, and the prince was swiftly admonished and punished for having such awful thoughts. Because why would a prince ever want to be anything but a prince?

When the prince came of age, her parents hosted a grand ball to celebrate. The prince was forced to wear formal armor that she hated, and was shown off to the public as if she were one of her father's possessions (and in a way, she was). Young noble women close in age to the prince were paraded in front of her, and her parents pressured her to choose one to wed. When the prince admitted she had no interest in any of these would-be brides, her father became extremely angry and yelled at her in front of everyone, calling her an embarrassment and a disgrace to the royal family.

The prince left the ball ashamed and distraught, and upon returning to her room she decided she couldn't live like this anymore. She began packing in secret and hatched a plan to escape the castle and leave this miserable country for good. Shortly before her planned leave date she happened to overhear her father in a meeting, and was shocked to discover King Astor was actively working to destabilize a neighboring country with the end goal of taking full control of its natural resources and subjugating its people. The prince was horrified, and decided that she needed to do what she could to stop her father's plot before it could come to fruition.

The day came of her escape, and she fled the castle with only a few personal belongings and her sword. She disguised herself as a commoner- and a woman- and over the course of weeks made her way to the border. But by the time she arrived, she was exhausted and weak, which made her the prime target for a group of bandits. She did her best to fight back, but they had the numbers advantage. Then, three brave townspeople from the town closest to the border stepped in to help her. They didn't recognize her as the prince- all they saw was a girl who needed their help. When she was asked her name, the prince looked out towards a field of nearby flowers, and gave her answer.

"Daffodil."

[princess-of-the-corner]

Given wat Gabe did to her in canon, I tend to go the opposite with Chloe finding out. It more being a "I knew you were fucking evil!" and so she's either terrified or just overwhelmingly enraged or both depending on the scenario.

Then again I also tend to have her be a bit more mixed on Emilie too.

Basically, given the prospect of Adrien not being able to go to school has her breaking down into a wreck even though they barely interacted. I feel her desire for him to be there has to be rooted more in concern for him than anything.

As a result, while she might not consciously realize Adrien's family situation is abusive (In the same way Adrien is just kind of surprised at how cruel Audrey is but not really put out by it) she does realize its not good for him and so Emilie never stepping up when she was the one more inclined to hear Adrien means Chloe has... Complex feelings about her.

Basically, Chloe: "Emilie was a kind woman who Adrien adored and I found pleasant but distant. However she was also weak, and that weakness meant she never did enough for Adrien. I resent her for that, but only a little, because really, what else could one expect from the weaker half in a relationship? It'd be like expecting Sabrina to hold me to task, against their nature."

She'd definitely still be willing to help bring her bac on Adrien's behalf and also out of a little bit of desperation. "If I help bring Emilie back there's no way Adrien would ever stop being my friend and leave me like everyone else I love leaves me." But I tend to think her relationship with Gabriel would be a combo of irritation and nervousness that can escalate to anger and dread.

But that's me.

I don't mean that 'she's not scared of him' in the way that she thinks he's a good person.

But in that she now knows it's Gabriel. Adrien's shitty loser dad.

Hawkmoth is an unknown. She doesn't know his abilities, his limits, his morals. She doesn't know how he thinks and why he does things the way he does them.

Gabriel? She's been dealing with him for years. And while these actions are a step up in his game, it's still Gabriel. She knows the way he thinks. She knows how to play him to get what she wants from him. She knows how to plan for him to double cross her. Worst case scenario, she knows where to find him to knock him upside the head with a frying pan.

[hel-phoenyx]

Zuza and Domhildr (mentioned) belong to @soupedepates

___

New year's Eve is approaching rapidly, I didn't see it coming. Probably because I was, until a recent date, nose deep in books and scientific papers.

It matters very little. No one has plans for the evening anyway. At least no one asked me, and I know better than to impose myself after months of isolation due to work. I know damn well I'm not anyone's priority.

I'm fine with that. Made peace with it long ago. Even Brynja's return didn't break the shell. apparently Aarni invited her to spend the Christmas holidays in Sweden with her and Kriss, a girl vacation she said. I am still not a girl.

So of course I do what any normal person would do when they're alone around the 31st. I call upon an old friend I haven't really spoke to in years.

It's not that we drifted apart. We still exchange news and shit. It's just that... Since I lost my hand, our relationship is not what it used to be. There's a strain. Even if he did apologize for putting me in the middle of this shit.

Fenrir is standing on the bridge, looking at the darkness of the river below. The flame of his cig is the only thing lighting up his face. His hair is still as short as ever, and under the pale light his silver piercings are shining like gold.

He doesn't even turn hearing me come closer.

"Sup, Tyr."

"Yo. Sorry for the wait."

"Eh, it's fine. Almost finished my pack, but I have three others on me. Want a fag ?"

I stopped smoking a long time ago, but right now I am too tired to care. I hold my hand out, and he puts a cig in-between my fingers before lighting it with his. His breath runs on my face. Hot, heavy stinking nicotine and tar.

That, and the heat of the smoke, is enough to warm me up.

"So," says Fenrir a second after I breathe out a puff of smoke. "Brynja's back, eh."

"Yep. Didn't tell me for how long."

"Not gonna lie, I think it's for a while. She came to see me before, y'know, he sighs. At the office. Can't tell you shit because confidentiality, but her file seems to be getting better."

"That's good news."

Even if I still don't know what could warrant her the cops' protection. She doesn't talk much about her past, or the reasons she had to come back to Denmark.

"She told me about her new midwife, too," I carry on in front of Fenrir's silence. "An angel of a woman, apparently. I think I know who that is, Domi mentioned her to me, once..."

I realise my mistake the moment I say Domhildr's name. Fenrir's face immediatly goes sour, enough for me to notice it ; and it's noteworthy since Fenrir Wolffsen never shows emotions.

Well. It can't ever be worse than the hatred he turned once towards Kaizarz.

"... Whatever. What I meant is, if she really has a midwife, now, I guess she's at least here to stay."

"HA ! Or she just needed someone to make sure you can fuck like rabbits, you motherfuckers," he laughs in a cutting tone. "Yeah, don't act like I don't know you horndogs."

"I'm still demisexual, Fenrir."

"I've seen your bookshelf, Tyr, I know your horny levels. And I know she was DYING to bring you to bed. You can't hide anything to me."

I roll my eyes.

"More like you snoop in every aspects of my life. Ever heard about privacy ?"

"I'm a cop. Of course not."

My laugh turns sarcastic.

"What happened to changing the system from the inside, huh, Fen ?"

Hearing the old nickname makes him go tense. especially with all the resentment I put into. Changing the system, huh ? You screamed at me so much on my lack of action, back in high school, but is it better to use cops' weapons against cops themselves, especially when civillians are involved ?

I won't forget the reason I lost my hand is because you brought me to a manifestation you planned to turn into a riot, even if you weren't a cop at the time.

Ever.

He sighs. Smoke goes right to my face, I cough. I lost my tolerance to nicotine, apparently.

"Look, I've already said sorry."

"And I already accepted your apologies. That doesn't mean I forgive you or I approve your methods."

After all, one of the main reasons we drifted apart is because you're turning exactly like those people you hate.

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 19/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

Morristown, NJ

The revelation that she was never meant to be a mother is one that it took her decades to come to. Once she did, a lot of things about her life that have always puzzled her suddenly made sense.

That’s not to say that she didn’t love her children. In fact, that’s what made the revelation so hard to come by. She’s always loved them, from the moment they took their first breaths. It wasn’t the children themselves that were the issue; it was the mothering.

Fox was the sweetest baby. His cherubic little face made her heart ache when the nurses placed him in her arms at the hospital. She was told again and again by friends and neighbors that Fox was such a good baby, so curious and easy to care for. He hardly ever fussed compared to most of their children. This left her wondering why she felt such vehement resentment towards him for needing her so much when he wailed for milk at 2:00 am.

Women are meant to be mothers. That’s what she’d always been told. She expected it to come to her naturally, as easily as walking and talking. But that wasn’t the case, and she felt defective and ashamed. She hoped that things would be different the second time. Then Samantha came along and made her aware just how easy of a baby Fox really was.

It was constant. Someone was always needing her, crying for her, tugging on the hem of her dress. Bill was never home, and when he was, he may as well have been an apparition for how much help offered. When Fox started school it got a little better, and when Samantha joined him she at least had school hours to herself. She’d start to think that maybe she missed them, and then they’d walk in the door squabbling and something thick and sour would rise in her throat. Hatred. Not towards the children themselves—she was intelligent enough to understand that they were simply behaving as typical children do. But the mothering. The mothering made her want to swallow a whole bottle of valium with her nightly glass of wine.

And then there was Carl, always lurking around somewhere in the background. Sometimes he ignored her, and other times he showered her with gifts and attention, cornered her in the pantry and promised her the world. They could run away together, make a new life in Guam or Puerto Rico. She strongly considered it, especially when Fox was out of diapers and it seemed likely that Bill would be able to find some kind young woman to marry him and be a proper mother to Fox. But then she realized she was pregnant with Samantha, and Carl told her that he wanted to be around to see the children grow up. He wasn’t even their father and he was still more interested in being a part of their life than she was.

Shortly before Samantha disappeared, he asked her a bizarre hypothetical question regarding which of the children she would give up, if she had to choose. She balked, but he pressed her, and finally she said Samantha. Not because she loved Samantha less than Fox, but because mathematically, there were fewer years until Fox left home and she could be free again. By the time she realized that the question wasn’t hypothetical at all, it was too late. The heavy guilt she wore draped over her shoulders like a shawl didn’t allow her to enjoy having only one—highly self sufficient—child to look after. It didn’t allow her to feel relieved when Fox moved across the Atlantic ocean to attend college. It didn’t allow her to feel anything, really, ever again.

Many years later, when Samantha was long since gone and Fox was away at Oxford, she met a young woman at the Country Club who was vibrant and self-assured. They got to talking, and it came to light that the woman was well into her forties, though she looked and acted more like she was twenty-five.

“How old are your children?” she’d asked the woman, wondering how someone could find such joy in life amidst all the mothering.

“Oh, I don’t have children,” the woman corrected her, seemingly unoffended.

“I’m sorry. Were you not able to?” she asked, feeling a pang of jealousy.

“I could have, as far as I know,” the woman said plainly. “I just never wanted any. Kids are great, but I’ve just never had any desire to have my own. My husband feels the same way, so we’re well matched in that regard.”

She almost felt silly that she’d never come to the same conclusion herself. She knew that she wasn’t a great mother, but until that moment she’d always chalked it up to a personal defect. At that moment, she understood that she wasn’t meant to be a mother at all; she never should have had children in the first place. But it just wasn’t an option you considered in her time. Young women grew up and became wives and mothers. Regardless of whether they wanted to. Regardless of whether they were any good at it.

But by then it was too late. Fox and Samantha were gone, literally and figuratively. She hoped that as two adults, she and Fox might find their own way to relate to one another, to cultivate a relationship that was not predicated on her having birthed and raised him. But she found that his wounds were too deep and too raw, and her guilt over having inflicted them still too heavy. She was proud of him, so very proud of who he became in light of how little she and Bill did for him aside from providing food and shelter. But even that motherly pride was not something she felt entitled to. Fox became the man he is despite her, not because of her.

The Paget’s Carcinoma diagnosis felt like poetic justice, in a way. Her breasts, which were designed to feed and nurture babies, would ultimately be the end of her. The grisly, painful end. She knew that she could call up Carl, enlist the help of his mysterious doctors and unorthodox treatments, but why? Why keep on living this way? Fox would never forgive her for how she failed him, nor would she forgive herself. She made her decision, and she felt at peace with it. Her hand was on the phone, ready to call Fox and say her final goodbye, when it started ringing and she found Carl on the other end.

He presented it as a second chance. A way to right all their wrongs. He couldn’t bring Samantha back, but he could give her a dignified death, and make her loss less traumatizing for Fox than what really happened. He could re-write history, make her the kind of mother who baked cookies for Fox’s friends on Friday afternoons and cheered for him on the sidelines of his basketball games. And she and Carl could finally be together, Bill nothing but a footnote in the deleted scenes. It would be like everything had gone the way it was supposed to, and Fox would truly be happy. That was the selling point that finally won her over: a chance to give Fox the mother he deserved, and the life that came along with it.

It was like a game for Carl to construct the optimal childhood. Did they take Fox and Samantha to Disneyland before she died, or did they just take Fox by himself afterward? Why not both?! Carl coached his Little League team, Teena was the chair of the PTA. Samantha died peacefully in her bed with her family by her side. They carried on, made new memories, flew to Oxford for Fox’s graduation. Fox met Diana at the Academy and they were married on the Vineyard. It all felt so incredibly perfect.

But seeing Fox’s face when Diana brought him by for dinner, calling him by the name of Carl’s other, forgotten son, made her nauseous. The placid, comfortable looks on Carl and Diana’s faces baffled her. How were they so unbothered? She’s not sure this was the right thing to do. She’s not sure that Fox is really any better off now than he was before. She’s not sure she is.

Her reverie is interrupted by the ringing of the telephone.

“Spender residence, Teena speaking,” she says roughly, her throat thick with emotion.

“Hey Mom, it’s me.”

Her shoulders slump with the weight of the guilt.

“Hello, Jeffrey, how are you?”

“I’m okay. I wanted to ask you about something, and it’s going to sound really strange, but I need you to hear me out,” he says, his tone severe.

Her heart pushes up into her throat. He knows something.

“Okay, I’ll do my best,” she tells him, half hoping he’ll give her an opening to just come out with it.

“Was I…when I was born, was there another baby? Was I a twin?” he asks, and her fear is replaced with confusion.

“What? No, of course not.”

“Mom,” he says, his tone pleading. “Is there any way there was another baby? Were you given any medication that might impact your memory, like that…what was it that they used to give women in labor so they wouldn’t remember the pain?”

“Twilight sleep,” she answers flatly.

“Yes, twilight sleep. Were you given anything like that?” Fox—Jeff—her son, replies.

“No, Jeff,” she says tightly. “I was alert and I remember my entire labor with you, and your birth. There was only one. Why are you asking me this?”

Clearly something has tipped him off, and she’d feel safer if she knew what. There is a pause long enough that she almost asks if he’s still on the line.

“Can I share this with you in confidence? You won’t tell Dad…or Diana?” he asks.

It’s painful, all that she’s done to him and is still doing now. But this moment in which her son is trusting her with sensitive information, where his inclination in a time of difficulty was to reach out to her—his mother—is such a balm on her heart that she feels tears flood her eyes.

“Of course, Jeff,” she assures him. “You have my word.”

“Twice in the past week, someone has mistaken me for another man. A man who goes by ‘Mulder.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

I, Elizabeth Ann Kuipers, take you, William Richard Mulder, to be my lawfully wedded husband.

We proudly introduce our son, Fox William Mulder, born October 13th 1961 at Martha’s Vineyard Hospital.

“No, Jeff, I can’t say that it does,” she lies. Why do lies always come more easily than the truth?

Fox sighs, and she pictures him running his hand over his head and across the back of his neck like he’s done since he was a child. Since Samantha was taken. Since his life turned down a darkened path.

“Okay,” he huffs, disappointed. “Sorry to bother you, Mom. How are things going? How’s Dad?”

“Dad is fine,” she says, thinking of Bill, cold in the ground. As much as he saw and was party to in his time on Earth, she’s glad he did not live to see this. “We were just going to watch some television.”

“I won’t keep you,” he says. “Thanks for talking with me, Mom. I love you.”

Her chest becomes so unbelievably tight that she cannot form words, just an insufficient, “Mmhmm.”

The line goes dead, and she replaces the phone back on the receiver.

“Who was that, dear?”

She looks up to see Carl in the doorway, that unsettling smile on his mouth. She liked him better when he didn’t try to replicate normal human emotions. When he just told her sweet lies, fucked her over the sink in her powder room in Chilmark, and let her believe that life could be anything but miserable.

“No one. Telemarketer,” she answers. Lying doesn’t always feel bad. Sometimes, it feels very, very good.

She was never meant to be a mother, but maybe she can be a friend to her son. Maybe she can slip him a key to the exit, even if she’s the one who locked the door in the first place.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[heiilari]

Vexious info dump!!

there is a lot so here it is under a read more

Honestly Human Vexious ( better known as Vivian)

had a horrible life when she was alive she was in a loveless marriage for decades and when she finally got served with a divorce her soon to be ex-husband accidently killed her

Vexious is only in HELL because she has ENVY she was ENVIOUS of those around her who always got everything they wanted ( Love , affection , dedication, loyalty && children )

She resented people who had things better than her and yet she would not say a word and play the roll as a domestic loving house wife who would do anything and everything on her husbands whim.

Vexious KNEW about the affair he was having but played coy ( due to her being in the generation where woman were not ALLOWED to divorce a man

And due to her husbands family being extremely wealthy he could afford the costs of divorce.

Vexious NEVER had kids when she was alive despite the factor that she REALLY wanted children but alas her husband would not be able to give her any ( or so she was told ).

Vexious was killed completely on ""Accident'"" or that is what she remembered hearing as she was slowly bleeding out from a bullet shot. Vexious remembers her husband and his best friend carrying her and burring her alive.

Vexious died from lack of oxygen when she was buried alive

Back when Vexious was alive she had a A vitreous hemorrhage which is why one of her eyes was covered. no one knew what that was for decades . due to not being able to get it fixed or anything she lost her ability to see in her left eye which is why her demonic form has only one eye.

Vexious truly believes that she is unlovable / undesirable due to her ex-husbands ministrations

Vexious's family was not supportive for her at all , so she always felt like she was alone in life prior to her death

IN REGARDS TO VERSES SHE IS WITH DASTRIK AND VERIN

It took her quiet a long time to fully trust them , and trust that they were not going to hurt her, she was honestly scared that she would be hurt again

She didn't expect herself to fall as hard as she did for them but is genuinely happy she did.

She would trust them with cutting her hair and touching her wings without second thought

DESPITE the fact that Verin always manages to get under her skin she does appreciate it and gets a good laugh from it too

Sometimes she will steal their clothes ( mostly Dastriks shirts && Verin's Suspenders / scar? ) because it makes her feel comfortable and at home

She was and still IS extremely shy and nervous when kissing them

She always mumbles I love you but if she is caught she with make chitters and make it come out louder for them to hear

Verin was probably the first one she kissed because how he is and then ended up kissing Dastrik as well

**FOR THE ALT VERSE : A loving family**

Vexious genuinely did cry happily when she realized that she was going to be having children with not just Verin but Dastrik too!

She was always anxiously making food items because that was how she handled her anxiety which meant the house always smelt like baked goods

WHEN she first saw Vivi and Veya she FUCKING BALLED her eye out she was so happy she finally had something she had so desperately wanted ; children and a family

Vexious quit her job at the triple V tower because she wanted to be in a less hostile environment and she wanted to focus on her children too ( even when they are all grown up )

Vexious always loves seeing her children hanging with their fathers!

IN the verse she is married to Dastrik and Verin, she has two twin daughters with them. Vivi and Veya

ALONE HEAD CANONS

Being alone is something she is quiet used to and fine with she has tired herself out back when she was alive with trying to beg people to stay and not leave her alone. But things never work out as they should life is always rough around the edges.

Where Vexious loves being alone after a long day at work she personally cannot handle it for to long the maximum is two hours. Reason being is because it is a reminder of how alone she was when she was alive and how miserable she was with her now ex-husband

When she is alone for to long she will start making little chitters out of nervousness and try to look for someone that way she isn't alone but if she fails to find someone she goes into freeze mode as her mind unwillingly allows the horrors of her past to play like a old cinematic. She starts questioning what she could of done to avoid her untimely demise.

MASK HEAD CANON

Prior to death Vexious ( who will be referred to as her human name Vivian in this post )

Used to wear a mask always with her "husband" Erin. She would play the act of the happy wife with the best partner imaginable but behind closed doors Vivian was miserable and hated Erin more than anything

She was jealous of all these truly happy couples and wished that she could be in their shoes which caused her to feel resentment towards Erin. But it wasn't like she would show.

She continued to play happy. Making dinners having parties being a good wife. Until finally Erin said enough and got a divorce he felt like Vivan was holding him back from what he could truly do and "master"

Even though Vivian was ecstatic about it she couldn't show it. However it did pop up when he left her mask and false happiness finally crunbled and she got to express herself and scream into pillows out of sheer joy.

She finally felt like she was free.

Vivian hasn't told anyone about her past life. But her name "Vexious " was one she gave herself. No one besides Dastrik and Verin know the REAL her.

Also fun fact: she's only in hell because she was envious of actual happy couples

[imaginationofomi]

Come Together

Forty-Two

It was impossible not to think about the plane ride when all was quiet. Nayeli's conversation with EJ was playing in her head like a scratched CD, skipping and replaying parts she didn't need to revisit. Partially how much he missed her, mainly the tears he shed and what led up to them followed by the kissing.

She longed to believe that he was blowing smoke up her ass. It would give her a reason to remain angry with him. But she saw the look in his eyes as he listed all of the reasons he wanted her back. The look of a man in pain, the look of remorse, the look of someone that didn't know what to do with themselves, the look of helplessness as he cried.

EJ was not a good actor, couldn't fake an emotion to save his life. No poker face and no ability to lie. She was grateful for that quality, yet at that moment, she hated it because it meant he truly did miss her, that he really loved her, that he wasn't blowing smoke up her ass and that he was ready to let her go if they were not meant for each other.

She was hanging on to pieces of resentment, telling herself that she was nothing more than another warm body, easily replaceable by someone more malleable, evidenced by his trio of trollops, but months went by with every opportunity to have another woman provide what she provided, and he hadn't looked for her replacement once.

Any woman could offer him anything, and it wouldn't matter. Because he wanted her. In all of her stubbornness, through all of her grudge-holding, he wanted to love her. But would he still want to love her once he found out she loved Israel?

She hadn't told him yet, though she would have to at some point. The thought worried her, made everything else she had to consider seem like horse fodder. Her heart was being ripped in opposite directions, one half willing to accept the other but not the other way around.

She wanted to throw in the towel and give EJ another chance. But why did she have to be the one to give in? Be the one to lose? Why was it always her heart on the line? She had little power in their relationship, and she had to hold on to what she could. However, holding onto that power felt a lot like losing.

Standing in that power meant giving up on the man she fell in love with almost a year ago, the sweetheart that spoiled her with affection, the man that saved her life, the man that promised her the world. She wanted that man back, not the selfish bastard pretending to be him. Her Ezra was right there, lying beneath the surface of a man unwilling to bend. He would never accept her feelings for Isaiah so she would lose no matter who she chose. She'd come to that conclusion with Isaiah, but it was harder to accept with EJ.

Isaiah was the better option. He understood that she loved them both, was willing to share her time. She wouldn't get that freedom with EJ. The choice was clear as day, let EJ go. Before they left home, she thought she had. Unfortunately, her heart was speaking a different tune. Her body was too, thanks to the kisses they shared. It was like something in her had been awakened after being dormant for months.

Paradise was supposed to be a perfect cure for stress. The sun, a private beach, people catering to her wants and needs. Antigua was everything Nayeli needed to get her mind right, but nothing in her mind was right. She was a mess of emotions and hormones, of thoughts and wishes, of prayers and dreams.

She sat on a lounger underneath a large tree with roots deep in the sand, yellow bikini giving off the aura of a sun and trying to enjoy the breeze as she sipped from a cup of iced pineapple juice with a splash of cranberry sparkling water and finally flipped the page of her book. She'd read the same paragraph four times, distracted because EJ was close by, purposely tempting her and testing her resolve.

He could've been anywhere else on the rented property doing push ups and sit ups, running laps and stretching. Instead he placed himself in her line of vision, enticing her and annoying her at the same time.

"Mommy, quick, come here! There's a sea turtle swimming by me!" Tatiana shouted, fascinated by the ocean and the fact that she could see into it. The water back home wasn't nearly as clear, the crystal waves of the Caribbean showing all the ocean's shallows had to offer.

Nayeli slid her bookmark horizontally toward the spine to save her exact spot and left the novel on the chair, eyes forward as she walked down the beach to Tatiana's side with the sun beating down on her. She caught a glimpse of the turtle when it changed its course and swam in the opposite direction, lifting her sunglasses to the top of her head. Water passed over her feet and went up to her calves the closer she got.

"It's bigger than both of our faces!" she gasped at the animal with the beautiful, aged shell, wishing she'd brought her phone to at least capture a picture of the majestic moment. She admired how the turtle drifted leisurely, wanting to float and swim the same way.

"What are you two so excited about?" EJ joined them, having abandoned his beach workout when he heard Tatiana yelling. Nayeli briefly glanced back and whipped her eyes to the front to keep herself from ogling the cuts of his muscles on display. His hard work in the gym showed in the deeps ridges of his abdomen, his bugling biceps, thick thighs perfect for sitting and rubbing herself on. The man looked damn good and they both knew it. He flaunted it, likely thinking if his words couldn't make her give in, his body would. Bronzed up, oiled down and covered in a light sheen of sweat, he oozed pheromones that had her walking deeper into the ocean to get away from him so she wouldn't succumb to any urges tugging at the strings holding her bikini in place.

"Daddy, hurry up and go get your phone to take a video before it swims away!"

"Take a video of what?" he said, pulling his phone out of the pocket of his bright yellow swim shorts. It was pure coincidence that their suits matched, but in EJ's head, it was a sign they were still connected mentally.

"The turtle! It's right there!"

Nayeli stood thigh deep in the warm salt water, grinning as the creature swam closer to her, "Do you know if there are laws here about not touching the turtles like in Hawaii?" she asked.

"No, but I won't tell if you won't," EJ chuckled, readying his camera and zooming in on Nayeli and her new friend. It swam right up to her legs and began to circle her, nudging her with its head.

"Too much talking and not enough pictures!" Tatiana said loudly.

"Relax." A small wave lifted the turtle and some nearby seaweed, water crashing and splashing higher up on Nayeli's body, "Turn around and smile, Shortcake!"

She lifted her head and twisted her upper body, cheesing at the camera as her leg was bumped again.

"I think it likes you," EJ said.

"I made a friend!" she responded excitedly, posing for a few pictures and taking her sunglasses off of her head before she decided to take a swim of her own. Another wave broke against her, and she sunk until the water came up to her chest, using her legs to push herself forward. Diving down, she swam until she reached her desired depth and flipped onto her back, floating peacefully.

It was her favorite island activity whether she was in the ocean or in the pool at their villa. To her, the action represented the utmost tranquility. One had to relax to float. Tension acted like cinderblocks on the body, heavy and life threatening so she was sure to be careful.

Water covering her ears, most of the surrounding noise was mitigated. She watched birds fly over her head and thanked God that she was alive and able to experience what the world had to offer her. Most people were just trying to survive, so it was important to be grateful for her luxuries, even in the midst of her own turmoil.

As she started to feel like she was baking, she dipped under the water to cool herself off and swam back to shore, squeezing the moisture from her heavy curls. Tati and EJ were still on the beach, evidently waiting for her to return.

"I thought you fell asleep out there," Tati said, grabbing onto her fingers with a sandy hand, "It's time for lunch."

"Perfect. Mama's hungry." Nayeli patted her empty stomach and let her daughter pull her back toward the expansive villa. She stopped at her lounger to grab her book and now watered down drink, feeling extra heat on her back from EJ watching her as they passed under the palm trees. She snuck a peek over her shoulder and found his eyes shamelessly glued to her butt, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he admired the subtle jiggling and bouncing of her cheeks. When he realized he was caught, he grinned.

"My bad," he said although he was anything but apologetic. Had they been alone in the villa, he would've palmed himself to emphasize what she was missing out on.

"Enjoy it while you can," she replied with a light laugh. She would be running away from him until further notice. Doing anything else would be asking for trouble to find her, and she was dealing with enough as it was. She didn't need another reason to spend hours in her head.

"What are you guys talking about?" Tati asked, having heard the exchange.

"Adult things."

"Oh brother. You guys are gonna start being gross again, huh?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about." Nayeli feigned innocence as a subtle denial and set her book and glass on a table to rinse the sand off of her feet and legs and the saltwater out of her hair at the outdoor shower.

"Just please wait until I'm not around to kiss each other. I don't want to throw up." Tati stuck a finger in her mouth and pretended to gag.

"You are so dramatic, Princess." Nayeli could feel EJ's eyes on her again as she stood on the wooden platform under the cool spray of fresh water, scanning her body from head to toe. She met his gaze, heat rising to her cheeks when she recognized the heavy-lidded look of lust. There was an absence of shame as he continued to eye-fuck her while waiting for his turn, handing her a clean towel from the stack one of the staff members set out for them when she finished, "Thank you." Drying off to the best of her ability, she threw on a cover up and joined the rest of his family at the long dining table under the straw roofed pergola in between the infinity pool and the fire pit.

Everyone was waiting for them so they could bless the food and tuck into the delicious selections provided for them. Carmen smiled at her as she approached.

"You look like you're enjoying your time here," she said, pulling out the chair next to her.

"I am, Miss Carmen. I really needed some time off. Life has been crazy." So has your son. Nayeli sat down and sipped from a glass of ice water to cool off, pushing her wet hair behind her shoulders. Tati moved a chair to the other side of her so she could sit between her and her father.

"I'm glad you get to rest and recuperate. EJ told us how hard you've been working." Carmen rubbed her shoulder, leaning a little closer and lowering her voice to keep the next part of the conversation between them, "I want to thank you for stepping up for Tatiana the way you have in spite of everything. Lord knows another woman in your shoes wouldn't do the same." Their problems were pretty much an open secret.

Though he'd been on his best behavior at Nayeli's request, everyone sensed the underlying tension between them, whispered about them behind their backs. The show they put on fooled no one, and Carmen wasn't convinced they were completely finished. Nayeli couldn't say for certain if they were, but she didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

"I followed my heart and my gut," Nayeli shrugged, "I can't imagine making another choice."

EJ was the last to reach the table, and they all grabbed each other's hands, bowing their heads as Phillip gave thanks to God for their meal, their setting, and their good health. She got in line behind Kandice, helping Tati load her plate up with fresh sandwiches, sliced fruit and salad.

"Mommy, what's that green stuff?" Tati asked, pointing to one of Nayeli's sandwiches once they were back at the table.

"Pesto. It's made from pine nuts, basil, garlic, salt, olive oil and parmesan cheese."

"Is it good?"

"Very good, especially on pasta."

"Can I try it?"

"Of course you can." Nayeli picked up the sandwich and let her take a small bite, knowing that she would have to go back for another when Tati took a second one.

"It is good!"

"You can have it, Love." Nayeli rubbed Tati's damp braids and got up from her chair to grab another sandwich, greeting Kandice as she walked up next to her.

"Kids never let you have anything to yourself," Rakim's fiancée quipped, filling a small plate with some mango slices.

"Ever, but I'm used to it. I've been getting my food stolen since my nephew Diesel was old enough to eat solids."

"Awww, how old is he?"

"A year and a few months older than Tati. I watched him a lot when he was a baby, so I learned quickly that children will snatch any and everything from you. Same thing happened when I taught preschool for a hot minute."

"You used to be a preschool teacher?"

"Yeah, my degrees are in early childhood studies and child development."

"I thought you owned a bakery."

"I do. I went to culinary school after I graduated. Then I had family to take care of, so I taught while I was building my business."

"Would you ever go back to it?"

"Probably not. Love kids and I loved teaching, but I love what I do more." And thanks to EJ, she was free to continue pursuing any dream that entered her mind. Nayeli took a moment to look over at him. He was wiping something off of Tati's cheek and tapped her nose with his finger, tickling her side until she giggled and pushed his hands away. It was basic interaction, but it reminded Nayeli of one reason she fell in love with him in the first place; he was an amazing father when he wanted to be. Most of the time, really. One incident didn't wipe out everything else he'd done for Tatiana. Kandice recognized the look of longing and smiled to herself, ready to put her plan in motion.

"I think it's nice that you and EJ found each other. Rakim was worried about him for a while."

"Why?" Nayeli asked, biting into a pineapple slice and picking up another napkin to wipe away the fruit juice that made her fingers sticky. Thankfully they were far enough from the table that eavesdropping wasn't an option.

"He was lonely and growing bitter. We could all see the downward spiral coming. It's not easy being the only single person in this family."

"He dated women before me." After, too.

"Dating is a stretch. There were women, sure, but nothing of substance or that lasted very long. His picker was faulty, and they all showed their true colors eventually. You're the first to love him for who he is and not what he has."

"Money doesn't make up for poor character," Nayeli said and licked her lips, "At least not in my opinion." Some people were easily swayed away from their morals. She was not.

"Exactly. He needs someone like you to—no, he needs you to check his worst impulses, so don't give up on him. Please."

"Pardon me?" Nayeli's eyebrows lifted, temporarily creasing her forehead. She wasn't expecting to hear that from Kandice. Rakim, maybe. Carmen, absolutely. But definitely not Kandice. They hardly knew each other, and she was unsure of how much Kandice knew about their situation.

"Don't give up on him. I'm nosey and a light sleeper. I heard you guys on the plane."

Question answered, she sighed, "That's embarrassing. I'm sorry we woke you up."

"I woke up to use the restroom and heard you guys on the way back to my seat. He's a good guy that's had bad luck with women, and I'm not saying that because he's family or because I'm a few supervised hours and a test away from being a licensed therapist. There are a lot of things he didn't have to work for, and it made him lax when it comes to human connection. He's learning the hard way that real people value things like communication, respect and understanding over possessions. He won't get it right every time, and neither will you. The beauty in relationships are the lessons we learn along the way. Don't let him off easy, but give him a chance to make things right. He might surprise you." Kandice touched her arm before she walked away, and Nayeli stood there for several seconds, contemplating before she returned to her seat.

"You good?" EJ asked when she made it to the table.

"Mhmm."

As she sat and ate quietly, she wondered if Kandice had come to her of her own volition or if the family was colluding behind her back. It could've been a combination of both. Either way, the short conversation altered her mood and her mindset. She questioned whether or not she was being too hard on EJ. It wasn't a concern of hers before. Like she told him, she thought she'd taken it easy on him, but maybe she didn't take it easy enough.

He wasn't perfect, and she didn't expect him to be because she wasn't, but he did try to fix things the only way he knew how, the way most men thought women wanted them to fix things. When that failed, he suggested trying something different, and she questioned him and doubted him instead of hearing him out. She tried to convince herself that he was lying to feel better about being hesitant to fully let him back into her heart. Had she let her anger get the better of her? Let it blind her to the point of being unreasonable?

A man toyed with her feelings for six years but she had to ruminate on forgiving a few slip ups? Granted, the nature of them was pretty bad, but EJ never lied to her face. Or maybe all that happened with Jalen was the reason she was so intolerant. No relationship existed without troubles. EJ wanted to correct his mistakes, which was more than could be said for a lot of men. Her choices were stemming from a place of extreme pain, fear of feeling that pain again.

But fear was nothing more than a deterrent, a delay of the inevitable. Pain skipped over no one, and she wasn't going to be the exception to the rule. She couldn't let fear control her or allow it to harden her heart. She had to face it and hope the results would make her better.

☼☼☼

The sun had gone down hours ago, yet Nayeli lay outside on a daybed, staring up at the sky like the answers to all of her problems were written in the constellations. All she'd gotten was a breeze.

She was ready to go back to living a naive, peaceful life and breathing easy. Being on the island helped, but she couldn't stay in Antigua forever.

Wind rustled the leaves of the trees around her, noises of local wildlife providing a soundtrack worthy of a white noise app. She lifted her arms to tuck her hands underneath her head and the pillow it rested on, staring into the center of a group of stars directly above her. The lack of surrounding lights made them shine extra bright, almost as bright as the star EJ named for her.

"Hey."

Her simple thought manifested him, and she tilted her head to the side as she heard his footsteps approaching her resting place. His vacation uniform consisted of shorts and nothing else, occasionally a button down shirt he'd leave open to show off his pecs, and she once again found herself avoiding too long of a look at his body. She no longer had any doubts. She knew he was doing it on purpose.

"Hey," she said back, unsurprised when he took a seat next to her.

"I just wanted to check on you. You been out here by yourself for hours."

She was also unsurprised that he'd been watching her. He wasn't big on TV and would eventually run out of things to do once the rest of the house went to bed. His only options were sleeping, exploring nightlife, and bothering her. If push came to shove, he would definitely bother her.

"I'm alright. Just thinking."

"You feel like sharing?"

"Once I figure it all out, I will." She was continuously going back and forth with herself about her next steps, but she knew which way she was leaning. The daybed shifted as he started to get up, and she touched his hand before he could, "You don't have to leave," she said, voice gentle and inviting. His company was no longer unbearable, although she wasn't completely comfortable around him. He positioned himself next to her, stretching out but keeping some distance between them, something she appreciated.

For another hour and forty minutes, he laid there in silence, staring at her admiration of the burning balls of gas miles above them.

"Are the stars that interesting?" he asked.

"I'm imagining the one you named after me is somewhere in this cluster." She pointed and made a small circle with her index finger, "It's a long shot, but it would be nice. I haven't seen it since you took me to the observatory."

"That feels like it happened years ago."

"I'm not surprised. We've been through years worth of shit in about seven months." His mouth opened audibly, and she reached over to cover it with her hand, "If you're about to apologize again, don't. That wasn't a dig at you, just a statement." She didn't let go until she was sure she wasn't going to hear the word sorry. He laughed at her and turned on his side.

"Why are you looking for your star?"

"I don't want to forget what we were like before it all went to shit," she sighed. Her birthday was as close to perfect as they would ever get. Everything he planned was intentional from the excursions to her gifts. Every word spoken came from his heart.

"We were perfect," he said, hesitantly touching the back of her hand. She looked over at him, spreading her fingers so that his fit in the spaces.

"We were delusional." Her smile and eyes were sad. It didn't take long to come to the realization, but when she reached it, she knew that there was a lesson to be learned. One of love's beauties, as Kandice would put it.

"Maybe a little," EJ conceded, thankful that she wasn't keeping him at arm's length. They were making progress which was all he could hope for then.

Nayeli looked away from him, turning her eyes to the stars, "Why did you fall in love with me?" she asked.

"Your heart and soul spoke to me. Your wisdom spoke to me. I knew I loved you from the beginning, but I really knew at Tati's birthday party. The way you handled yourself with Savannah, the advice you gave me, when you stopped me from going after her, everything you did told me you were the one for me. I've never put my hands on a woman, and I never will, but Savannah almost got dealt with that day. I was already pissed off at her, and when she came at you, I saw red. You made me feel calm and at peace with a look. No one's ever been able to calm me down like that but you. You showed me that there was a better way. You showed me patience and compassion. You're thoughtful and honest, and I took that for granted. I wish I could take that back." He was careful not to apologize and ruin the vibe. She shifted onto her side and tucked her free hand under the pillow.

"There are things I wish I could take back, too."

"Like what?"

"Asking if you would get back with her." The embarrassment showed on Nayeli's face.

"There's nothing in this world that would ever make me go back to her."

"I know that now. I didn't at the time. If you knew me as well as you think you do, you'd understand why I had that thought in the first place."

"I do understand. You wanted her to be better than she was, but if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck....."

"It's a duck. I get it, and I've seen the error of my ways. Being here has given me plenty of time to think about a lot of things. Mostly where we went wrong. I didn't like the answer, but I've accepted it."

"Accepted what?"

"That we moved too fast, Ezra." He thought he would never hear his name leave her lips again, that he was cursed to remain EJ as long as they were in each other's lives. He was so geeked that he almost missed her explanation, "Part of our problem is that we expected too much from each other too soon, and we did because we skipped some important steps. We jumped into playing house without knowing each other's communication styles, how we react when we're angry or upset. We didn't talk about the things that changed us, our deal breakers, our triggers, how we would work through our problems. We matched so well in certain areas that we didn't think about anything else until it was too late."

"I'll take responsibility for that. I pushed when I should've let shit happen naturally. Brandy told me to give you time that night we were all at Buster's. I went in head first when I should've listened to her."

"Yes, you should've, but I could've pumped the brakes. I should've. I was the one fresh out of a crappy relationship, and it was up to me to set that boundary. I never stopped you. I went in head first just like you did, and I knew better. My heart was ready for love, but my head wasn't. I wasn't thinking, just feeling, and when I started to think, the truth slapped me in the face. We did everything backwards, and it set us up for failure."

He didn't expect her to accept any fault in the situation, but he was grateful not to shoulder all of the blame. She was right. Had they done what she mentioned, gotten to know all of those things about each other first, the conversation that ended their relationship could've gone in a different direction. It might not have been as gut wrenching. It might not have happened at all because he would've known to give her space to process. He might've approached her differently, been more understanding of her worries and less judgmental. He might not have assumed she was going to end it.

"What do we do now?" Their only choice was to move forward, but he was worried that he'd done too much damage to do it the way he wanted. Their collective breakdown on the plane made it obvious just how bad he'd been, and he'd done some thinking of his own. Although he wanted back on her good side, he'd accept it if she told him no.

Nayeli chewed her bottom lip and prayed she wouldn't regret the decision she was about to make.

"I'd like to have that conversation you mentioned on the way here when we get back. My hope is that once we do, we'll be in a better place to figure out how to make each other happy."

Only two things sounded better to him; hearing that Tati was perfectly healthy when she was first born and Nayeli telling him that she loved him, too.

She could see the relief on his face under the light of the moon. She also saw the moment another thought darkened his doorstep, knowing exactly where the conversation was heading and prepping for the fight she didn't want to have.

"Where does that leave you and Isaiah?"

She was afraid that anything she said next would jostle the bridge they were building and possibly even cause it to collapse. But it was better to be honest than to spare his feelings only to switch up later.

"Exactly where we are now. I don't want to hurt you, but it's not fair if I'm not real with you about where we stand. I love him, and he loves me. I don't believe that's going to change," she admitted, unable to hold eye contact because she didn't want to witness his disdain. EJ was as quiet as a mouse next to her. She just knew that he was going to get up and leave, that that would be the end of it all, but he shocked her.

"When did that happen?" He was calmer than she expected.

"I don't know if I can pinpoint when. It just happened."

"How?"

"I didn't take our break up well at all. I was good about hiding it, but he knew I wasn't okay. He was the only person besides Tati that knew I wasn't okay. He helped me through it. He got me out of the house. He made sure I didn't completely lose myself. We were friends for years, pretty much family, and the more we hung out, the more I realized how much I genuinely like being around him. I'm happy around him, and when you cut me off and told me that you didn't want me to see Tati anymore, my heart broke all over again. He did everything he could to lessen that blow. He took care of me. We took care of each other, and the next thing I knew, I was in love," she explained, still afraid to look EJ in the eye. He went silent again, and her worrying worsened.

"Did you lie to me the first time I asked you about him?" he eventually spoke.

"No. We were just friends then. Some years back, I considered the possibility of being more, but I was with Jalen. When you asked me about him, we'd slept together, but it was only once. After that, we went back to being platonic, and that didn't change until I made it known that I wanted it to. By then, you'd already built a roster."

"Is that why you didn't want to stop seeing him?"

"I won't stop seeing him because he's lost a lot in his life. We're close, and I don't want him to lose me, too. I don't want to lose him, either. He's important to me," she answered and got ready for more questions. She knew where EJ's curiosity was coming from. She didn't want to be dishonest, but she was going to spare him the gory details.

"How long has he loved you?"

"As long as he's known me."

"Why didn't he make a move then?"

"Our timelines never matched up. When we met, I had just started dating Jalen. There was a connection with Isaiah, but when I'm in a relationship, I'm loyal to a fault. Eventually, he got a girlfriend, and he was with her for years. We still hung out, just not as often."

EJ wasn't sure how to feel. She told him that she loved Isaiah, but he could hear it in her voice just how much she did. Her feelings were strong, possibly stronger than what she felt for him, and that was scary. He pushed her right into the arms of the man that her father already considered a son. It was like God was telling him to give up, but why would He send Nayeli to him only to separate them? He didn't understand that.

"Does that mean you're not in love with me anymore?" he dared to ask, afraid of her answer but more afraid of not knowing if he had a shot.

"I would drop to my knees in relief if it were that simple. I struggle with the fact that I'm still in love with you because not only have you screwed me over more than once, but I wasn't brought up to be this way. I've entertained the idea before. Feeling it is an entirely different monster because I know it's not fair, but I can't change how I feel. If that means I have to let you go, it's going to break my heart, but you've given me time to prepare for that." The truth stung. At least he knew she hadn't stopped loving him. The question was who she loved more, who she was more afraid to lose, who she was willing to lose.

"Would letting him go break your heart?"

"Yes. That's not something I have to worry about, though."

"How's that work?" he asked, tone tenser than it was a few seconds prior. He didn't like the sound of that.

"He's a permanent part of my life. I've never kept my feelings for you a secret from him, even when things were at their worst. I wouldn't say he's okay with it. There's a reason you're not his favorite person, and it has nothing to do with the fact that you tried to hit him, but he loves me enough to let me be with you if that's what we decide."

"You gotta give me a little more than that because I don't know a single nigga that would willingly share the woman he loves."

"He's dated a polyamorous woman before. He has a different way of thinking."

"What the hell does polyamorous mean?" EJ propped himself up on his elbow, staring down at her so intensely that she started to shy away from the conversation.

"Loosely translated, many loves. It's a love style where someone has or can have more than one committed relationship with all parties' consent." Her voice quieted down, eyes dancing around to keep from looking at him.

"So an open relationship?"

"Sort of, but not really. When most people hear open relationship, they think sexually and this is much more than that. I'm not super educated on the topic yet, but it's about loving multiple people and that not taking away from the love you have for a specific person."

"That don't sound right to me."

"A lot of people would agree with you. I would've agreed with you before now, but I'm living in the middle of being in love with two men, so I can't."

"It sounds crazy."

"It feels like that, too." She still didn't understand it herself. She was looking forward to having a conversation with Aubrie if Isaiah could ever get it scheduled. She'd been looking into Facebook groups and reading posts on Reddit when she could as well.

"You think it's something you'll feel forever?"

"I don't know. Most likely, and that scares me just as much as the thought of losing both of you."

"What if I'm not cool with it?"

"Then you're not, but that won't change my emotions." If she could turn her feelings on and off, she would be in better shape.

EJ flopped onto his back and sighed loudly, "So I live with it or find someone else?" He was not okay with it, but he was less okay with the second option.

"Don't jump so far ahead. We still need to have that talk, but essentially, yes that's what would happen."

"I don't want to find someone else if I can help it, though. The talk is more for you than it is for me. I made mistakes that got us where we are now, and it's up to me to make them right. I want you to tell me what I can do differently to make you feel like being with me isn't a headache, if there's anything I can do. I want to be better for you."

"Being with you was never a headache. Everyone else's opinions and drama and everything that happened after we broke up was, and if I'm being honest, your actions changed the way I look at you."

"What can I do to fix that?"

This time around, she didn't question his sincerity. They were having an honest conversation, and although it was premature, she wanted it to continue. If they figured their shit out now, the thought of going back to California wouldn't have such a dark cloud hanging over it, "I'm not sure. I'm not sure of anything. I've been out here arguing with myself for hours because as much as I still love you and want to give us another shot, I don't trust you. I've had hope in the past, I've wanted to give you chances, and you've repeatedly given me your ass to kiss when all I've done is tell you the truth. I can't help thinking you'll do the same if I decide to try again, and I'm tired of being hurt by you. The next time it happens will be my fault because I've seen what you're capable of. You've shown me that my feelings will never matter as much as yours. I wasted six years of my life in a relationship like that. I don't want to do it again. I don't have time to do it again."

EJ understood why she was wary. Jalen screwed her over, and so did he. Women lied to him in the past, pretended to care for him to get what they wanted out of him even though he never believed they were around for the right reasons.

They used him, and he used them. It was an equal exchange, so it was easy to move on when a situation didn't serve him. Nayeli was the only woman that was different, yet his treatment of her was worse than any of his previous situations, likely because there were real feelings involved.

Love made people do dumb things. Heartbreak lead to impulsive decisions, and being that he was already an impulsive person, it made him worse. But he refused to give up on her again, even with another man in the picture.

"I take full responsibility for the way I mishandled our relationship and everything I did after that. I was immature, I was an asshole and I was selfish. I want to grow from this, so if you could find it in your heart to give me another chance, I want to try rebuilding the trust between us."

"That's going to take a lot of time." More than either of them had to waste.

"I know it is, but I'd rather spend that time with you than getting to know another woman, so tell me what I need to do. Tell me where to start." He picked her hand up and held it against his face, eyes pleading for the opportunity to do right by her. They made some good strides, and the willingness she saw within him softened her up the rest of the way. She could give a little. Just a little.

"I think working on our communication is a good starting point, and if that means taking some time before we have a conversation, that's just what it needs to be. You need to listen to me instead of assuming you know what I'm thinking or feeling and making a decision based off of your own perception. Don't be hateful when I upset you. I don't expect you to never be mad at me, but I do expect you to respect me the way I've always respected you. Overall, just do better. Don't say you will. Do it, and be more patient with me, please. You lack patience when I need it the most, and I'm really going to need it now."

"Whatever you want, whatever you need, you got it. I swear, and if I fall short, let me know and I'll go harder. I don't want to be at odds anymore."

"I don't want that, either." She visibly relaxed, grateful that there was no pushback, excuses or deflecting. That was already a step in the right direction, and it made her feel comfortable enough to offer an olive branch of her own, "What do you need from me?"

"Give me a fair shot to make things up to you. I'm a fuck up. I'll own that, but when you doubt me and the stuff that I do for you and say to you, it feels like you don't see that I'm trying or that you don't want to see it."

"You have a point. I've been so angry at you that I didn't want to see it. Being angry is easier than risking my heart over and over again. I've been in pain, and it's made me put up a wall with you because I don't want to feel that pain anymore. There will be boundaries between us going forward, but if you can commit to being better, I can commit to having more faith in you." The wall was still there, high and strong. However, if he did what he said he would do, it would come down brick by brick.

"Done."

"And—"

"Here we go." He huffed and threw his arms in the air as he fell back onto the pillows behind him. Just when he thought he was in the clear, another bump in the road appeared. Nayeli laughed at his childishness and let him get it out of his system.

"I see where Tati's drama gene came from," she teased, "Don't act like that. Building a house on a broken foundation is a recipe for cracks, crashes, crumbles and expensive repairs. I think if anything, we should take things slow and work our way up to being in a relationship." His full lips formed a frown so deep that it made her think twice, but she kept going, "We'll start small. Maybe coffee dates and walks in the park. Then we'll do dinner, movies, deep conversations, making plans together and going to our respective homes at the end of the night. And during this whole process, I think you should see other people."

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm still going to see Isaiah," she reminded him. The warm feeling between them cooled quickly, though EJ kept himself calm.

"I'm not tryna be in competition with that nigga," he said flatly.

"There is no competition. I love you both. It would be easier if I didn't, but at this point it's out of my control," she replied, hating that she was upsetting him. They were having their most productive conversation in months, and anything could change that for the worst, "Big Momma told me my heart was too big and that it'd get me into trouble one day. I never understood how that was possible because in my mind, love is never wrong. I get it now, and I wish that my heart wasn't so big. I can tell that this is hurting you, and I hate myself for it, but I'd hate myself more if I lied to you and wasn't true to myself."

"Knowing you're in love with somebody else does hurt, but I deserve it. I pushed you away when I should've pulled you closer. What other choice did you have?"

"Don't say that. You don't deserve it. I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you don't," he sighed and rubbed his eyes. He was sitting in a mess of his own making, though he had faith that things would end up how they were supposed to, "Bring it in." He opened his arms for her. Little by little, she scooted toward him and laid her head on his bare chest. His skin was warm and smelled of cocoa butter, and she closed her eyes as he held her and kissed the scar on her hairline, a reminder of their very first meeting all those years ago, "Don't worry about it, okay?"

"It's hard not to when this feels like a goodbye hug."

"It isn't, but I don't know what's gonna happen when we go home. I don't know if I'll ever be okay with your feelings for Isaiah. I don't think I'll ever feel comfortable with the idea of you being with me and him. I don't know if me seeing other women will make any of this easier. I'm not gonna feel the same way about them that I do about you, and I feel like that defeats the purpose of you telling me to do it."

"I just want to be fair to you. I can't ask you to hold out if I'm not going to," she explained.

"Think of it as payback for me expecting that from you while I was running around."

"That's not me, Ezra."

"It needs to be for a while. Dating other women isn't going to help me prove that I can be all you need me to be. I don't want any distractions. I just want to focus on being a better man for you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove that to you. We'll figure this out as we go, and whatever happens, happens."

They were playing with fire. Nayeli felt the heat even as a breeze blew over them. One thing she didn't want was a fight for her love or her time. She didn't want Israel and Ezra trying to outdo each other. She didn't want either to feel left out. She didn't want either of them to give up on her because they thought she loved the other more.

She wanted peace. Companionship. Friendship. Laughter. Support. Stability. Bomb sex. She wanted to create her village and raise a family filled with so much love that her children would never know what it meant to be without.

"Can you promise me something?" she asked.

"Anything."

"Don't lie to me about how you feel, and if at any point you want something or someone different, you'll tell me."

"I doubt I'm going to want anyone else, but yeah, I promise." Truthfully, he wasn't down for any of it, but after all they suffered through and were beginning to overcome, he realized he loved her too much to just take a backseat and co-parent with her. He needed her, and for her to be the woman he fell in love with, he had to compromise. Maybe he would get lucky and her thing with Isaiah would be short lived. All he had to do was step up and wait out their connection. It was just too bad that the thought of her dating anyone else made his blood boil at an unhealthy level.

"You don't know that for sure. Other than me, what woman have you given a fair shot?"

"I'm pretty sure you're the only woman I've met that's deserved it. I know what women want from me, and it's not love. It's security, shopping sprees, being in my will. I have no problem giving all that to you because you'd love me if I had a regular day job. I can't say the same for the other women that have been in my life. I want something real, and you're as real as it gets," he said. He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, looking into her eyes as he silently asked for permission to go a step further and kiss her again. She lifted her head, the slight pucker in her lips all the signal he needed, but he only got in a quick peck before she moved her lips back out of his reach.

"This isn't taking things slow." Already she was failing at setting and sticking to her boundaries. She had to take the restructuring of their relationship seriously if she truly wanted it to work. Backing out of his arms, she sat up and smiled at his pout, "Turn that frown upside down. You've kissed me more this week than you have in half a year."

"It's not enough."

"You'll be alright," she giggled, stretching out her arms before she stood up and tugged her shorts down over her butt, "You can kiss me again after our first date. Goodnight, Ezra."

"'Night, Shortcake." He watched her leave with renewed hope and immediately started planning.

[naoa-ao3]

Try A Little Tenderness

Wanda and Natasha might not be the most ordinary couple in the world. Maybe they aren't even a real couple and maybe Wanda is just imagining all of this. . .

That's very possible but when Natasha looks at her, Wanda can't help but feel her heart speed up and when the other woman trains her it's all she can do to keep her mind on the task at hand.

She doesn't take it for granted. She knows that if anything were different she could very well end up in a cell somewhere, buried and forgotten by the world.

She doesn't have anyone left to look or care for her now and the rest of the team seems uncertain of what to do with her. Steve is nice. She actually prefers Captain America over some of the others but even he doesn't seem to know what all to do and say around her.

She's tainted in their eyes.

Hydra and Sokovia. . . They don't understand and they probably never will but then she's starting to feel like perhaps she hadn't totally understood herself.

Only Natasha seems to come at her with an open mind. She doesn't delude herself, the woman knows she dangerous but just the same, she's offered to train her and she spends time with her.

That means something, right?

One night when there's more of them in the compound than usual and more than is probably good for the peace she laughs a little too freely and feels a little too comfortable.

She sees Stark's eyes fall on her and she goes silent.

She hadn't meant to laugh.

Dr. Banner had gotten one good on Steve and she'd let herself get caught up in the surprise.

Stark's eyes remind her that she doesn't really have a place on the team and maybe she's reading too much into it but they linger on her, making her worry just the same.

She looks away but the spark is gone. She feels small and out of place. Confused by the table and the people sitting at it.

She hasn't totally made peace in her heart with him.

Even after he's looked away she feels disconnected and downtrodden. Her whole life now is what these people allow.

Some part of her still resents them.

Only Natasha seems to understand anything and she suddenly feels her hand on her knee under the table.

It helps and the others don't notice but the hand stays.

It's warm and firm and the woman it's attached to isn't looking at her but she can feel her thoughts and she knows she's in them.

She closes her eyes and feels better slightly.

She isn't alone and Natasha is so steady and firm next to her.

There's something special between them. . . Something maybe Wanda is imagining but the hand on her knee stays and her heart slowly returns to normal.

Stark is laughing and so maybe she did imagine it all.

He's laughing with Dr. Banner and no one seems to have noticed her sudden anxiety and the rushing in her ears.

After dinner, when the dishes have been argued over and cleaned she sneaks off to her room, embarrassed by her own emotions and how young she still feels sometimes.

She doesn't even have the television on when a small knock sounds on the other side of the door.

She blinks, heart speeding back up for a second and waits.

When there's nothing else she knows it's up to her.

"Come in?" She says, voice small and uncertain.

It's Natasha and the door opens to reveal her red hair and calm expression.

She almost always looks calm.

"Are you okay?" There isn't a lot of pretense and Wanda quickly nods, knees folded under her on the bed as Natasha crosses to sit next to her.

"You didn't look it at dinner." The other woman says and it's in her voice and mellow movements that Wanda suddenly wants to take comfort.

Natasha who really has no reason to look at her at all and who does.

"I. . ." But it feels weak and small to admit that she was simply irrational and scared. She's been here long enough to have adapted. . . To know the ropes. "I don't know what came over me." She says instead.

Natasha nods and suddenly there's a hand twisting itself into her hand, fingers lacing together and she can feel the strength of the other woman. She can feel her warmth and the power of human contact.

It breaths so much into Wanda that she doesn't have words for it. Not in English or Sokovian.

"I should be at home here." She whispers, admitting that she knows she's failing to adjust. She fears that. Maybe if she never does they'll all give up on her. Send her away. . . Lock her away in some awful place. . .

Natasha however touches her face, brushes her hair back and for a second she can remember having a mother. Just for a second she remembers someone brushing her hair and the sound of bombs falling on someone else's house.

She leans into the touch.

"Perhaps people don't ever completely adjust." Natasha says. "There are days this world still feels strange to me. Still feels fake. . ."

Natasha keeps a lot of herself to herself. Wanda's heard names like the Red Room and the Widow Program whispered but whatever Natasha carries inside herself she hasn't shared much more than that.

Maybe she can't.

Wanda thinks she could understand that.

Still, when she looks at her she can hardly believe this woman of such great strength and person feels the same way she does. It's as scary as it is affirming.

She digests the other woman's words and leans against her as Natasha kisses the side of her head.

It makes her smile and so she turns and kisses her on the mouth, half in her lap now and smiling again.

Natasha smiles too and guides them to lay down, guides her into her arms and kisses her mouth and cheeks and face all over.

Wanda doesn't have anyone left to look or care for her but she has this. . . This quiet, small thing where someone does want her and she isn't alone and the someone seems to know all the things she never says.

She smiles into red hair and feels at home just a little.

Warm and very nearly loved.

[cpdanvers]

back to basics

Name: Cooper Danvers

Faceclaim: Charlie Hunnam

Gender & Pronouns: Cismale he/him

Age: 44

Birthday: 16 January 1980

Occupation: Owner of Danvers Security (hirable), security at Bare Necessities, trainer at the Boxing Room (he's a busy guy)

Neighborhood: South Hills

Does your character have a secret? During a misson in the east four of his squad were killed, his brother and 2IC were arrested for war crimes and now serve in federal prison for an order that Cooper, as Sargeant, handed down after refusing orders himself and ordering the squad to go dark (no comms) thinking it was the only choice they had.

the true story

Trigger warnings: war, death, drug addiction, overdose

It shouldn't have surprised Cooper in the least, that he’d be knee deep in sand and heat, dragging his brother across the arid desert of some foreign land. His hand had curled around the scruff of the younger Davners neck since they were merely kids, not quite the guiding hand of an easy relationship, but one that tore at the seams of his heart like no other, and his grip had never really eased up. For what could the love of a brother who only wanted to see this younger version of himself survive, turn into other than resentment and loathing? It was something Cooper did everything to avoid, the bullets ringing off in the distant hills reminiscent of a childhood, where each aggravated and volatile response to anything the youngest Danver did, sort to rip and tear just the same.

Eldest son, born to a man who wanted no child, and a woman without a single maternal instinct within her, Cooper felt the sting of abandonment and loneliness for years of his childhood. Instead seeking the company of imaginary friends and stray dogs that littered the streets of South Hills like fleas. It didn’t bother him - in truth he knew no better, but for a long time, Cooper refused to speak. With so little experience with warmth and care, he shied away from any act of social compliance that he could, and for a long time, a lot of people believed that he’d always be that way.

It was only when he was eight, and a young teacher took a special interest in his learning capabilities - or if there existed a lacking, that Cooper began to open up. For two years, she sought to encourage him in ways that a mother never had, and by the time his birth mother declared that she was once again pregnant and that he’d soon have a new Dad, Cooper might have even been happy about the idea of having a younger sibling.

A family was still a family if it was fractured, right? That was the way Cooper saw it, another eight years later, when the graying woman who took him under his wing in the classroom, sought to gain custody of him in the wake of his mothers first overdose. An act of good faith, and yet one done with a heavy heart as Cooper’s mother brought a third child into the world. Would tearing him from his siblings draw him away from the steps he’d made over the years? A question that inevitably needn’t be asked, as the once coy child refused to be torn from the lives of his new siblings, regardless of where he called home.

He spent as much time as he could, watching - helping his brother and sister to grow and learn, filling the myriad of holes that careless parents left. Perhaps they’d never know the love of a mother or a father, but Cooper wasn’t about to let them go without the love of a brother until he could do something more than simply be present and even as he stepped through the ropes of the marine corps, he managed to foster something akin to a safe place for the three of them.

But never was it meant to last, his first heartbreak found him after receiving a distraught call from his brother's partner while home from deployment. Barely able to understand the words that found their way through the phone, Cooper pushed his way through the doors of a well known drug den, to find his brother near lifeless upon the floor, suffering the same affliction of their mother. It was the beginning of Cooper’s most difficult plight in life.

Though it wasn’t his first experience with the addled life of an addict, it hurt far more than watching their mother destroy herself in his early years. He was present for this, torn by the ache that resided within his chest each and every time the younger Denver called upon him late at night, asking for help. They tried everything, and the number of doors broken and damaged as Coop tried to pull him from such a haze, slowly splintered whatever patience might have otherwise solidified his very bones.

Selfishly, the first sign of sobriety beyond six months saw Cooper accepting his next deployment, with a new patch as sergeant of a newly minted squad of marines. Juggling the lives of his men, and his brother in the days and nights he could breathe, he began to revert back into the isolation of his childhood years, distancing himself without even realizing it, in some subconscious attempt to save himself from the weight of the world. Atlas, buckling beneath all that he sought to shoulder, it proved to do little more than make him more determined.

Despite his brothers instability, the choice came where there was little else Cooper could do, and still his hand had strong at the nape of his brothers neck. Even more so as he dragged him from the streets of Wilmington and gave him the ultimatum - join the marines, or go it alone.

Five years later, the Danvers brothers were a name welcomed among all ranks and the weight Cooper carried felt a little lighter. As they both sought to specialise in search and rescue, Cooper built out his own squad with men and women of the same calibre. Soldiers hardened by needless war, brutalized by training and battle and loss, yet the first to put their hand up for the next chopper out, leaving egos at base camp. Which only made it all the more shocking when the call came through that four of them were dead, and the rest nowhere to be found.

The Danvers and those with them had gone dark, leaving no trace of where they might have gone, with a classified target with them.

For twenty three days, there was no sign of the marines. No sign of life at all, until a small fishing village off the coast of Syria was attacked. The sole perpetrators, a small team of marines demanding refuge and passage home. Further investigation bore no new details, and beyond the word of the villagers, Cooper was faced with an impossible decision.

His second in command, and brother were quietly arrested for war crimes and sentenced to federal prison, and nothing more was spoken about the incident to the public. Cooper took a leave of absence and returned home, perhaps none the wiser that every choice he'd made, led him right back to the isolation he’d spent his whole life trying to fight.

––––––

most wanted

Friends: Cooper was born and raised in Wilmington and had been here on and off his whole life between deployments and the like - this can range from best friends, to lost friends, to friends to enemies. // Nazli, Sienna, Shiv, Nik

You're not lost yet: Cooper is a bit of a shell at the moment, and doesn't really know how to pull himself out of this rutt he's in. In fact, he's probably not even acknowledging the fact that he's even in a rough place. This person would be gently trying to get him to open up a bit - perhaps they miss their old friend, perhaps they're just curious.

Fear can't kill you: With the recent events, they've approached Cooper to help them train or help them with self defence. This can include companies/people looking for private security services from him // Parker

We were never meant to make it: This is the person that knew him the most before things with his brother became the hardest. Irrevocably in love with each other, Cooper called things off when he simply felt he couldn't give them as much energy as he wanted to. Very much a "I can't give you what you want right now" kind of situation. Neither of them ever really recovered from it. // Parker

Current fling: this is entirely physical and very much a connection that is more to blow off steam than anything else. Bad day? Let's catch up. You pissed? Take it out on me.

Previous flings: self explanatory. He's been back and forth between deployment and Wilmington his whole life. This // Sienna (was close with his brother/currently hacking Coops personals for info), Nicole (brothers friend troupe)

Brothers fiance/girlfriend/ex: this is the girl that saw everything Cooper did for his brother during his addiction and couldn't believe how much an older brother could love his younger so much.... But, that's all changed now that his younger brother is in federal prison. She can't stand the sight of Cooper and blames him (though she doesn't actually know it's his fault)

WCS I'll submit to the main: One younger brother and a younger sister (I'd prefer if the sister was the youngest but whatever works!) these are both HALF siblings.

+ Open to just about anything!

[quirklessidiot]

Can you tell more about nocuos? That last ep got me in on a sukuna brain rot and i love how you wrote him there

I got questions like did they do it😏 did sukuna still love her etc

hi! Nocuos!sukuna is actually my favorite one shot series. Hshsjsjs thank u for reading and giving it some love!

when y/n is old during the first part (where he visits her for the last time), he is filled with conflict and leans more onto resentment than love but its because y/n is sukuna’s humanity. He can’t kill her because deep down, he can’t do it (y/n was basically his savior, the one who game him a name, the one who gave him a life, a potential. She basically made him and has been through it all with him. She basically has loved him through those various stages. Despite the number of fights they had, he could never bear to gravely hurt her because it would feel like killing himself and at that time, he wasnt ready because it was still fresh. in the third part where u see her worrying over him a lot and wondering if he’d come back and he states, “im not going anywhere”. He genuinely meant that, he’s basically holding onto the thin thread thats tied to her)

she is the last of good within sukuna, u can say that when she passed due to old age, he was filled with grief and relief as well because the last thing tying him to humanity was gone.(u also have to take note that y/n did not bear any heirs or anyone to pass the name to despite people telling her to do it because she did not want to marry anyone that wasn’t sukuna so sukuna is basically the last remaining member of the clan by name… but by blood, their jujutsu technique was lost in history and well sukuna is relieved because i don’t think he’d have the heart to actually face her heirs.) ive always noted how in jujutsu clans they all have a certain physical look to them (like the zen’in’s for example), so he’d feel haunted because if he’d ever run into them, it would be like staring at a remnant of a time with the woman who loved him through it all. when u read the part of them meeting when she was old and gray, he states that they were friends and y/n only holds resentment to that statement and becomes very bitter because they both know that it was anything but that, y/n saw him as her true pair and he thought the same but him saying that out loud is basically a spit to the face because she genuinely still loves him despite what he did so for him to downplay it😮‍💨

And yes, they were each others firsts! Y/n’s father actually approved of him to be y/n’s husband because he knew he was genuine about his daughter and wouldn’t try to stage a coup to take over the clan. Their clan was pretty ahead of their time lololo

[calenhads]

bite the hand (1k, sabina/lachlan)

Sabina is sick with it, all the hatred in her heart. 

It simmers under her lungs, the ruddy glow of coals on a midnight fire, the trembling ashes of the Undying Hearth. It is quiet now; not sated, but no longer clamoring for her attention with all the fervor of a yipping dog at her heel. A small mercy granted only because she is too exhausted to feel anything at all beyond the time-worn cloth of her trousers under her hands. Sodden strands of hair stick to her forehead, teased by a cool breeze gentle as a lover’s kiss. Her face is flushed, she knows, because of the way Lachlan keeps stealing sidelong glances at her.

Though present, worry is not the only emotion to cross his night-dark eyes. She almost wants to scold him, scandalized. A spark lights among the ashes, glimmering and notably not exhausted. 

“Again,” she says instead, pushing herself to her full height. Not quite taller than him. Bile rises in her throat at the movement, and is swallowed back down. Sabina draws, rapier light in one hand and dagger lighter in the other. Lachlan’s face twists into an expression she does not recognize, and speaks in a voice that she does.

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea. When did you even sleep last, Sa-“

“Again, damn you.”

Sabina hurtles towards her dearest friend, her lover if the world was kinder, with no small amount of tremulous energy. Lachlan raises his sword to meet her in a parry effortless enough to set that little spark into a flame. 

She gasps against the heat of it, and is surprised that her breath does not turn to steam in the cool air. Something within her bares its teeth, snapping at any errant hands. Come to stroke or to strike, they are bitten all the same. Arms straining, Lachlan shoves her back and away a handful of stumbling steps. 

“Sab, come on,” he pleads with wide eyes. His offhand is help up, palm facing her, placating. She has never resented anything more in her life. 

“I’m not done,” she snarls, more beast than woman. 

She lunges again, mad with grief and fury and denial as Lachlan diverts her flashing blades with his own. What a picture she must make, teeth bared and eye-whites flashing, stern brows furrowed even as her body trembles. A rabid animal in desperate need of the knife.

“You are,” he disagrees with the pleasant air of someone speaking to a particularly petulant child. “You really are.”

He’s not even trying anymore, not really. With each ragged breath her blows become sloppier, her responses slower. Lachlan is hardly sweating, only a single bead rolling down his impeccable brow. She likes that brow, normally. When it’s not condescending at her with only the tiniest of wrinkles to betray his pity. It always seemed heroic to her. Now it makes her want to claw and bite and scream until it is ruined. Until they are both ruined in their entirety. 

Sabina wants to take him to the grave. She wants to take him to bed. Are they not one and the same, in the end? She is surely making one of each for herself to lay in at the end of all this. Lachlan is merely providing the shovel. 

And perhaps company.

Something in her expression must change, because Lachlan’s guard drops and his expression softens. His brows untwist from the knot they tangled themselves in out of sheer worry. A mistake.

Barely registering the dull thud of her weapons against the sea-damp dirt, Sabina lurches forward with arms outstretched, and Lachlan steps forward to meet her. To catch her, if she’s interested in being honest with herself.

She’s sure she meant to kiss him, or bite him, or hit him, or any manner of things that are not the embrace she falls into instead. His arms, strong and covered only by the thin cotton of his undershirt, are warm around her. Unbearably warm, warring with the flame licking at her heart. Perhaps it is not rage that pulls at her, but longing. Or perhaps she is merely exhausted beyond all hope of understanding.

Either way, the beast quietens as she is restrained, as her body finally goes limp. She buries her face into his neck, breathing damp against his skin. 

“You’re burning up,” he whispers into her hair as one firm hand rises to cup the nape of her neck. “I was serious about the sleep thing. You’ve been up how long now?”

Sabina makes incoherent noises against his throat just to feel him shiver. 

He hums a question in response, a paper-thin attempt to stay focused that she can see right through. Above, she is certain his eyes have grown darker still.

“Too long,” she says, more clearly this time. Twenty-six hours and fourty-three minutes, she does not say. Her real answer would invoke even more misplaced, eyebrow-knotting concern than she wants to deal with at the moment. Not that she hasn’t ever been awake longer… but Lachlan would not like that argument either. Felix certainly hadn’t, at the time.

It’s no easy task to withdraw from his arms, but Sabina manages after a steadying breath. He still smells of woodsmoke from the fire, of the plain soap that her not-so-royal coffers can hardly afford. Sabina has no intentions of finding out what she smells like.

Upright again, she pats him once, abruptly, on the left side of his chest with a — weak, tired, wan — beatific smile. 

“I suppose it’s time for me to retire,” she says with a yawn, stretching her heavy arms above her head as if it will quell her rising nausea. “Join me if you will.”

Lachlan laughs, shaking his head in what can only be disbelief. Not rejection, not yet. Sabina’s eyes dart towards his.

“As your nursemaid, maybe. You’ll pass out the second you get horizontal. Maybe wake up in a state of feverish delirium hours from now,” comes his answer, along with a broad hand on her shoulder. Softer, he murmurs, “Go to sleep. I’ll send in Felix to watch over you.”

Unbothered, Sabina nods and the world wavers at the edges as she does. The moment has passed, and done so long ago. She retrieves her abandoned weapons from the soil, and goes to bed.