#she literally lost her freedom because she had opinions different from her husband!!

[onemistressandnomaster]

I was at the bookstore the other day, and I picked up a book in the u.s. history section entitled “the woman they could not silence” out of curiosity. it’s about a woman named elizabeth packard, whose husband imprisoned her in an insane asylum for disagreeing with him. I had never heard of this woman before, so I read the first few chapters and later googled her name. and like.....stories like this are so important in helping to raise feminist consciousness, and it’s wild to think how these kinds of things are just glossed over when it comes to early american feminism.

so for starters, elizabeth packard was well-educated, but when she was 19, her father committed her to an asylum for “brain fever,” which was attributed to her taxing her womanly mind with all of her studying and teaching. the author of the book speculated that elizabeth actually had meningitis, and that the “treatment” for brain fever (ie. locking elizabeth up in an asylum for six weeks and bleeding her) did more harm than help. then elizabeth got married, at the age of just 21, to a man fourteen years older than her, and who she only married because he was a friend of her dad’s and she wanted to please her parents. she was pretty insistent in her writings that she never loved him and he never loved her due to their completely incompatible personalities. her husband, theophilius, was a minister, and when they moved to illinois, he opened up his own church. elizabeth disagreed with her husband’s calvinist beliefs, though, and they also clashed over other issues like slavery (this was all happening pre-civil war; elizabeth was pro-abolition, theophilius was pro-slavery) and the rights of women (elizabeth thought women should be treated like human beings, theophilius did not). when elizabeth started making her opinions more and more publicly known, theophilius started spreading rumors that she was insane--and he was able to use the fact that she had spent time in an asylum to his advantage. eventually, he gathered a whole bunch of “testimony” from his church about elizabeth’s insanity, and he had elizabeth committed to the jacksonville insane asylum. 

and here’s the kicker--elizabeth argued that she couldn’t be admitted without a hearing, because that was the law. except that the law didn’t apply to married women--it specifically said that husbands could remand their wives to asylums, no questions asked, and the women had no right to challenge their imprisonment. and when elizabeth was being forced onto the train, she expected some of her friends in the community to help her. but only one person--another woman, a ms. blessings (I can’t remember her first name)--said anything in her defense, which was basically that if she were a man, she would fight to protect elizabeth’s rights. but all the men just shrugged their shoulders and allowed elizabeth to get carted off. and she spent three years in the asylum, constantly being berated by the doctors, who wanted her to admit that she was crazy for her religious and political views. and it was only when her by-now adult children demanded her release that they let her go--into the custody of her husband, who then locked her up in their house. and she was only able to escape that after a trial to determine her sanity, because while it was legal to send her to the asylum, it was illegal for theophilius to imprison her in their home. the “evidence” that theophilius presented for her insanity? arguing with him and trying to leave his church.

fortunately, she was found legally sane. unfortunately, theophilius sold all of her things, rented their house out, and skipped town, leaving her homeless and penniless. and she had no right to seek recompense for her stuff or for the loss of her minor children because married women were not entitled to any of that under illinois law. she became an activist for the rights of women and those in asylums and succeeded in getting legislation passed granting married women more rights under the law. but like.....I had never heard of her until finding that book, even though her story shows how deep the oppression of women goes. we think we’ve come so far, but we don’t even properly appreciate where we started. married women literally had no legal personhood for so long in this country and so many others!! there needs to be more attention paid to women’s history, to the women who have stood up and fought for their rights, and for the women who were silenced--because elizabeth packard was not the only woman in that asylum who had been sent there by a husband. how many women suffered? we shouldn’t forget them.

[elsafowl]

Las Chicas del Cable, S05 (part 2) | REVIEW

Okay, so SPOILERS AHEAD for the final episodes of Las Chicas del Cable (or Cable Girls in english or Les Demoiselles du Téléphone in french). You have been warned, if you read this post further than this, it's on you.

Now, let's talk.

I don't really have a logical order for my talking points, actually I kinda finished the last episode 10 minutes ago and I just stopped ugly crying so forgive me for the feels and over punctuation.

THE ENDING: yeah, let's start with the freaking ending. The freaking BAD ending, I must say. Sure, I was so sad and overwhelmed with the pre-death flashbacks that I didn't think about it at first but. wow. what a bad ending. Seriously, what were they thinking in the writers' room? "Oh, we are writing a serie about powerful, clever, independent, badass women who survive and fight against all odds for 5 seasons, how can we finish that..." "BY KILLING THEM ALL" "Yay, great idea Steve!" THE FUCK. It was already enough that Ángeles had to die. It was already enough that most of the original main cast had died by the last episode (Carlos, Elisa, Julio, Ángeles, Carmen, that's already a lot of people), but nooooo, you had to kill the main four. The main four, who, let's be clear, died in the most stupid way ever.

ALTERNATIVE ENDING THAT WOULD'VE BEEN WAY BETTER IN MY OPINION: so, modern TV seems to have a problem with 100% happy endings. Like, endings are usually bittersweet, or sad, or damn tragic (glaring at you, Game of Thrones). Let's roll with that. You want a mildly sad and shocking ending for your chicas, but you also really want that years of fights and character developments don't go to waste, and you also want your depiction of the after Civil War era in Spain to be a little bit realistic. What do you do? Let me tell you: you kill your main character in the final. Lidia dies, saving everyone else, sacrificing herself. She is the main, so it's a shock and it's sad (+ the ship war between Lidia/Carlos and Lidia/Francisco is avoided because 2/3 are dead). It's sad but it makes sense: not everyone can survive the Franco regime, not even the main character (who, honestly, has high morals and always try to help everyone even if it puts her in danger). You have the drama and the tears. But Carlota and Óscar? They deserve a happy ending, being badass reporters with their new son Martín, being in love and maybe becoming cool spies during WWII. They deserve this ending, because I'm tired of the Bury Your Gays Trop (seriously. AGAIN??). They deserve a happy ending because this last season was them not being sure they belonged together, and Óscar not feeling like himself, and them breaking up and finally making up at the end, and all of that for WHAT?? Tell me, for what!? Marga needs a happy ending too: she risked everything to save her husband, she freaking gave birth like a pro in the middle of a riot/prison escape and she had her baby and her family is reunited for what... three minutes before she has to freaking die?? No. Just no. I guess I can imagine how these deaths symbolize the fights of all of those women who were forgotten by History, but you don't have to kill all of them to spread the message damn it.

ESPECIALLY WHEN THE REASON FOR THEIR DEATHS SUCKS: maybe I can accept them all dying, if it made sense. But it didn't!! They spent the entire season, hell, the entire serie fighting against everything and everyone - and they were mostly winning!! Las chicas never gave up on anything or on each other, and that's the strength of the show. But here we are, with the last scene: Lydia has a crazy good plan with the book and the sleeping powder and they freaking manage to escape. But oh look, these dumbasses started the train 30 sec too early and they can't run fast enough to jump in it (even though Franscico managed to do so literally 10 min earlier). But oh look, they aren't running fast enough because they are wearing high heels... honestly, I know this sucks, but during the running scene I couldn't stop thinking that they were going to die because they were wearing high heels. And damn, they actually did die. BECAUSE OF A FASHION CHOICE AND BAD TIMING. are you kidding me? They also died because they decided to give up. Again, las chicas, who fought and won against asshole men, against Doña Carmen, against the freaking Franco regime and they gave up. Just like that, because of a train speeding too fast. What the actual fuck???

But let's talk about the other deaths of this season (because they were a lot). I had tears in my eyes for Elisa and that's it. You see, the major problem with these last episodes and their characters' deaths (except the last ones), is that you could feel that the writers had used this specific character and they didn't need them anymore. Julio is fun, but we don't need him anymore: you kill him. Elisa was useful for a bit, but then we don't need her anymore: you kill her. Doña Carmen lost everything, she's not a villain anymore so we don't need her: you kill her. Even this lady from the prison was a cool character, but you needed to show not everyone could come out of this escape alive so bam! you kill her. Honestly, I was okay with all of these deaths even if they were not subtle at all in their intent, but if we add the last four deaths, IT'S JUST TOO MUCH. Like hell, you can't have mostly everyone surviving impossible situations for 4 seasons and then having a real massacre in the last one.

The rhythm: yeah, the rhythm wasn't that great. Everything happened to fast, from plot development to character development. It's a minor complaint tho, because they did good with the few episodes they had and most characters had been developed in previous seasons anyway. But it still felt a little bumpy at times.

Doña Carmen's redemption (of sort): it was a little too fast to my taste. But then, Elisa's death was heartbreaking and Carmen's flashbacks with her children (now both dead, I can't believe I was such a fan of the Cifuentes in the first seasons) made it even more painful. I liked how she didn't backed down or betrayed Lydia in the end. And I like how her ultimate suicide was presented as a victory: Carmen was in charge of her own life, she never let anyone tell her what to do or not to do. She was a great villain, and yeah she dies but not to save anyone, just because she said so and I like that.

Also, I don't remember his name but don't you think there was a hell of a gay tension between Pablo and this guy who betrayed them and got Julio killed? I mean, maybe it's just me, but I think he wasn't really in love with Marga and maybe more with Pablo!

Too bad Sofía wasn't developed more. She was a tool in this last season: a plot device to spy in the prison, and she had like 2 scenes as the daughter of Lidia/Franscisco and 2 scenes as Felipe's love interest but... I don't know, I guess I wanted more of her, since we didn't really get to know her before.

I loved the prison scenes!! They were short, but each of the chicas had her moment to shine and it was particularly pleasing to see Óscar believing in himself again. Carlota and Óscar's arrival in prison was so violent (with the shower scene and everything), I wish they explored a little bit more of that. And also of Lidia suffering and becoming not a person but a number during her 8 months incarcerated.

Where did the nice lady guard from prison go?

Carmen putting her ex-friend and mostly Carlos and Elisa's killer alive in a coffen was pretty satisfying. Yeah, not sorry about that.

I really liked that Franscisco and Lidia didn't really had couple scenes in those final episodes. I'm not such a fan of the couple (why do we have to keep the first love forebver?) (the love triangle with Carlos sucks too), and I didn't miss those scenes. They didn't make a big deal of Carlos' death so they made the right choice to not rub it in our faces by having cute lovely scenes between Lidia and Francisco.

Actually, Marga and Pablo were the cutest and the birth scene was awesomely done. How Pablo was so encouraging over the phone, how Marga needed him to tell her she could do it, and she finally did it and the little moment of angst when the baby didn't cry and them obviously naming him Julio. I honestly was so happy, this was definitely one of the best scene (plus, they manage to reunite almost everyone in this scene, between the people in prison with Marga and the people in the apartment with Pablo).

Carlota and Óscar organising the riot was awesome too, and them getting back together was certainly welcomed bonus, even if they didn't get much scenes to explore that.

THIS SCENE WAS GOLD: 

AND SEEING ALL OF THEM WITH ÁNGELES AT THE END, AND ÓSCAR BEING HIMSELF AND EVERYONE BACK IN THE CABLE COMPANY LIKE IN THE FIRST SEASON, THE FREAKING TEARS!!!

Anyway, there is a lot to say about this season. Sure, the ending was terrible to me but that doesn't mean the rest of the season (or even the show) was bad. I think you can see me cool off in this post as I write, now I'm pretty calm and not as mad because I still love this show but damn, why would you ruin the ending like that?? Or like, maybe not ruining it totally, but making it so damn hard?

All in all, I really liked this serie even if the final episode (actually, the last scene) was pretty terrible to me. Of course, the first three seasons were way better than the last two, with the intrigue being around the cable company and less slip up in so many different directions because of the war. I truly think the Civil War and Franco era plot could have been better if they had more episodes, more time to develop it, and maybe more complex storytelling. I will always been grateful to have seen such a wonderful cast of actresses/characters on the show. They were powerful, badass, clever, independent, loving women (and Óscar) who were fighting everyday for their lives, for their loves, for their freedom and for their rights and that was beautiful to watch, especially when the main five characters are so different and yet so connected, so relatable, and so... I don’t know, women? 

Thank you Carlota, Óscar, Marga, Lidia and Angeles. Thank you, las Chicas del Cable. You’ll be dearly missed. ♥

[darkpoisonouslove]

Erendor x Samara Headcanons

This somehow happened... even though they are literally my least favorite Winx characters. I wanted to develop them somewhat more so that I could stop despising them so much. I think it worked... even though there are some problematic things.

TW for mentions of murder and infertility.

It was a semi arranged marriage in that Erendor was the one who was having negotiations with Samara’s family since he was already king. His parents were currently residing at one of their numerous estates, however, and were as removed from the ruling of the kingdom as possible since the monarchy was hanging by a thread. Erendor had to find a way to settle the growing tension for which he needed some strong allies and it just so happened that Samara’s family was the most influential.

Samara was actually a second child but her elder sister was already promised to a nobleman from another famous lineage and pulling that apart would be bad for the monarchy as well as the other family was bound to turn against them. So Erendor was to marry Samara and have the endorsement not only of her family, but also the new house that her sister was to join soon. They had a perfunctory engagement that only served to not make it look like the situation of the monarchy was so dire that Erendor was taking desperate measures to stabilize it. They married as soon as possible to fortify the alliance and start working on continuing the royal bloodline.

Samara was extremely good at pretending and showing exactly what was expected of her. Her mother had been dragging her to beauty pageants ever since she’d had anything to show in the talent portions of the competitions and she’d learned from little to read what people expected from her and then show them just what they wanted to see. She could get under anyone’s skin and steer them into doing whatever she wanted. It was the skill she’d perfected while her sister had spent more time in education as they’d hoped for a better marriage for her. Samara’s mother had hoped exactly for that result as it gave them guarantee that Samara would be able to control her husband while they controlled her to give them even more influence and power.

Erendor was wary of Samara at first. He was way more observant back then when the future was being built on a day to day basis and he’d seen enough to know she could charm anyone, which made her the one with the real power in their marriage. He had to win her over on his side if he wanted to ever have any real control over Eraklyon and that would be a challenge since she already had everything she could want, including the crown. He could never beat her at her own game so he tried a different approach by being dangerously honest with her which threw her off every time to give him an opportunity to peek under her facade and get to know her better.

He learned that the price of her smile was a ring on her finger and the price of her heart was holding her hand in his. She was indeed used to getting everything she wanted but he hadn’t known she wanted commitment to her that her family had never shown as they’d been using her ever since she’d learned to walk and freedom that she could only get if she had more power in her grasp than her mother held. He paid enough attention to her to learn how to never disappoint her with a gift and gave her the choice of what to do with the power she held – give him equal control of it by taking his hand or keep being pulled like a doll by the strings her mother had wrapped around her until death cut them off. He gave her the decision to choose whose hands to put the control over the kingdom in and that was more than her family had ever given her.

Her mother never expected that Samara could choose her husband over them. She’d never thought that a man could win her daughter’s trust after she’d raised her to view people as means to an end because that was how they’d view her. It was too late by the time she realized she’d made a mistake by demonstrating that to Samara herself. Her daughter had all the important people in her hand and she put them in Erendor’s pocket to throw her family so out of the loop they would never be able to come back. They lost any control they had not just over the kingdom but over most of their estate and assets as well and had to leave Eraklyon before Samara bankrupted them completely. She didn’t spare the family her sister married into either in case her mother tried to make her comeback via them and all the wealth was distributed to the struggling economical branches to patch up both the holes in the kingdom’s resources and those in the people’s trust.

The monarchy was saved and the two of them were left with their blooming alliance. They got along perfectly when he asked her opinion on everything and let her handle most of the diplomacy, only ever interfering when his presence was needed. Outside of the throne room, their shared time was limited by mutual agreement. Samara liked to use her newly found freedom to choose her personal endeavors herself and Erendor could use the break on his ego (he knows he couldn’t have done it without her but sometimes it is still hard to swallow his pride even though Samara has never flaunted the fact in his face, perhaps due to her own experiences of being dependent on someone else).

Besides, it takes them both a little while to process whatever slips into one of those honest conversations they tend to have in the middle of the night–there’s always room for Samara in his bedchamber and she’s rarely refused an invitation to go as well–or early in the morning over breakfast. He still catches her off guard–and himself, too–when he admits something that requires trust that their mutually beneficial deal does not justify. Samara actually likes it because it feels like she can trust it’s real and she’s even confessed a couple of things herself on her own initiative even though the word love has never been approached by either one of them. Erendor’s honesty is always blunt and has zero romance to it but Samara prefers it that way as she’s not sure how long it will take her to trust romance.

It all seemed well until they learned that Samara had fertility issues that got in the way of conceiving an heir. Samara retreated and locked herself into her bedchamber. She wouldn’t even let Erendor in, let alone go to the throne room or even the dining hall. Erendor had to forbid all maids and other servants from going to her until she came out, steaming about him breaking their deal that they were equals and he couldn’t control her. Not the best plan to get her to talk in hindsight but he didn’t have much choice.

They talked once Erendor explained himself and she calmed down. She was upset not only over the discovery of her problem but also over the fact that all their efforts in putting the monarchy back together had been wasted. Erendor tries to reassure that nothing has changed – she is still the queen (aka indirectly reassuring her that he wouldn’t divorce her over that which not only went through her head but she was also leaning towards after he broke their deal). They can still adopt a child and the monarchy will have an heir. Samara warns him that his brother will not stand to have someone outside the bloodline take the throne from under his nose. She knows the ambition and bitterness of being a second child and her family wasn’t even in line for the throne. Erendor promised they would figure it out but, meanwhile, there was a war brewing between the Ancestral Witches and Domino and his alliance with Oritel was enough of an excuse to buy them some time to think.

As it turned out, the solution presented itself. The royal dog breeder almost lost control of the hounds as she prepared them for a hunting session. After Erendor only didn’t bite her head off in the literal sense, Samara had her turn as well which saw the woman breaking down and confessing that she’d found herself pregnant and abandoned by both the father and her family. Samara instantly pieced together the plan that could be the solution to all their problems and after Erendor agreed, they offered the woman to give her baby to them. They would make him a prince and she could see him grow with every one of his needs taken care of if she would keep her mouth shut about the deception they were pulling. They reached an agreement and brought their scheme to fruition by presenting the boy as the royal heir while the official version was that the dog breeder’s baby was stillborn.

Distrustful of the emotional goodbye the woman said to her child, Samara decided to tie up their loose ends. Erendor had already dealt with the doctor supervising the birth through semi-legal means and it was just the mother that could reveal their ruse. Samara poisoned the dogs with a mix just strong enough to drive them mad with pain but not kill them so that they would attack their breeder and tear her to shreds. It happened almost as she’d planned it but before the dogs could be put down by the guards, they slipped away, having been pulled out of the effect of the poison by the grief over killing their caretaker. The woman had an unusual gift for training the animals and immense skills to top it off that Erendor could have never rivaled even despite his time in Red Fountain spent taming dragons. She was known as a dog whisperer and the animals had all formed a bond with her that was unbreakable so when they killed her, they turned into mindless beasts with the rage and pain of betraying their own mistress like that.

The hounds got lost in the forest to spread all over the kingdom and terrorize it for years to come. With everything else that was happening, Erendor’s focus was not on getting rid of them. The alliance with Domino was broken to the result of losing an entire city and being plagued by guilt. Without their strongest ally, the kingdom was soon swallowed in wars and debates over the future of the monarchy. The hounds were yet another crisis that was pulling Eraklyon thin over all the fronts it was stretched on.

The problem only got solved once Sky signed up for Red Fountain. Along with Brandon and a handful of other soldiers, he tracked down the hounds and killed them to stop them from wrecking havoc. Curiously, they didn’t run from him or try to attack him which he found odd but shrugged off as his gift for taming dragons obviously working on other animals as well (they never had hounds in the palace again after the “accident” with the last dog breeder). The last hound was the only one that put up a fight but it turned out it was because she had a puppy she was trying to protect. Unusually for dogs, it was only one. A small white female dog. It was so little Sky could snap its neck with two fingers but he took pity on it and took it in, swearing to his parents that he could tame it and make sure it would never hurt anyone. He named her Lady to further his point as she was extremely well behaved and obeyed every one of his commands, even letting Samara pet her despite her obvious dislike of the queen.

Lady was put down after going rabid out of the blue and attacking the queen. Samara didn’t like having to worry whether the dog wouldn’t tear her to shreds if Sky weren’t there to stop it so she got rid of it as well. Over the years she’d tried to provide for Sky both the warmth and discipline he would need to turn into a good prince as she didn’t want him growing up the way she had and being a pawn in the schemes of others. There was a certain duty to be upheld as an heir to the throne (of a country falling apart no less), though, which was why she and Erendor were pushing the marriage with Diaspro on him. The girl was more than respectful towards them despite being a spoiled brat otherwise and she was a princess aka their best choice for his fiance. They could use an alliance amidst the brewing situation in the kingdom.

With the years and the state of Eraklyon going downhill after the alliance with Domino fell apart, keeping the kingdom afloat was weighing down on Erendor on top of the guilt her felt for his deal with the Ancestral Witches and he became more selfish and rudely outspoken. He didn’t care much about diplomacy when he was counting on Samara to take care of it. She herself started falling into the rabbit hole of being queen and having the power to make everyone bow to her, however, and she abandoned her persuasive way with words for more forceful approach. After the whole fiasco with the dog breeder, she had to make sure nothing else would go astray to topple their unstable thrones and she had less and less patience for coaxing people to go her way rather than coercing and even forcing them to. The image of the monarchy was falling apart once more which was why Erendor was so hasty about passing the title of king down to Sky. Their son was very well liked amongst both the high society and the commoners so they had to leave the power in his hands at least in appearance.

[ohwereusingourmadeupnames]

Our Road is Long

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Mature (M) Warnings: closeted!Tony, self-doubt, internal homophobia Word Count: ~13k Notes: thanks to @mrsluttystark - the harry style’s prompt caught my eye and I just kind of went with it. i changed a few things here and there, but here’s hoping it’s what you were kind of picturing!  Summary: 

Pepper and Tony are divorced, but not before they have a gorgeous baby girl named Morgan. She is the center of Tony's world - even when it's melting down little by little. Having been in the closet most of his life, Tony is struggling to come to terms with the wants and needs that keep making themselves known - especially after he meets a particularly handsome kindergarten teacher, Peter Parker.

He's bad about picking Morgan up from school, but he's forced to when Pepper and her new husband go out of town. What ensues is the hilarity and vulnerability that comes with coming to terms with who you really are - Tony Stark style!

There's a lot of Tony/Morgan scenes - hang on tight for the cuteness!

Read it on AO3 here!

The divorce was the easy part.

After finding Pepper in bed with an admittedly handsome blonde with great pecs and one of the nicest asses Tony could remember seeing, separating felt like the only rational thing to do. Pepper played the part of his beard for long enough – and despite how it happened, he didn’t feel bad that their marriage was over. A part of him felt like it might be time to finally be himself – let the world know what the real Tony Stark liked, who he actually was. His father’s voice was still too loud, though – even after all these years, Howard’s “you will not tarnish our name with your unnatural behavior,” dictated his actions.

The best part of his marriage to Pepper came from their daughter – a little girl who had Tony’s hair and eye color, but the beautiful round eye structure of her mother. She made Tony feel like a hero – like he could do no wrong in her opinion. No one else in his life gave him that much benefit of the doubt. It felt good to have someone looking up to him, even if that only happened on the weekends.

Pepper was tactful in her requests from the divorce – something that Tony felt grateful for. She kept the CEO position of Stark Industries; which Tony was happy to keep in her name – he liked getting to tinker on his own projects too much to worry about the business side of things at this point of his life. It gutted him a little when Pepper demanded Morgan stay with her most of the time – that little girl was one of the only things he liked about his life.

He conceded anyway, though – in the end, he figured having some stability from Pepper and Steve was better than what he could give her. He had trouble remembering to pick her up from daycare – a kid deserved more than that.

When the whirlwind of it was over, Tony kept his tower and all of the cool things in it – he got freedom he hadn’t wanted, and a huge split between himself and his daughter. He didn’t love Pepper, that was never a part of the deal. Having someone by his side went deeper than that. The idea of loneliness sat in the pit of his stomach for a while – the emptiness of the place a little haunting after so much laughter, so much time spent watching Morgan grow up. All wasn’t lost, of course – he got to see her on the weekends and the occasional holiday.

To make up for being away from her throughout the week, Tony made every time they were together a production. When she was younger, they went out to playgrounds and played until the girl practically fell asleep standing. He fed her whatever he decided a little kid should eat – their favorite being peanut butter and jellies with the crusts cut off.

The older she got, the more Tony started to incorporate her into his work in the lab. No Stark would fall behind the learning curve. Luckily, she took to it the same way Tony did, like the naturals that they were. Tony felt some of his best memories in his entire life were the weekends with Morgan, the two of them fixing Dum-E, building new little toys, and playing around with all the gadgets Stark Industries developed over the years.

For Morgan’s presence, Tony was grateful. He could never regret his time with Pepper because of her existence, so he kept things civil. They weren’t sharing Christmas dinners, or anything, but he got a hug from Pepper and a handshake from Steve every time he walked to the door to pick his daughter up. The idea of his little girl growing up away from him still shook him to the very core – he hated every second he knew he was missing; but they’d done a good job coming together to give her the stability she needed. It was much easier to be a family this way – no matter how bitter Tony wanted to be, he couldn’t deny it.

As long as Morgan was happy, Tony knew he could get past his hang-ups and make the most of whatever came his way.

Outside of his time with Morgan, Tony did not feel as optimistic. Things with Stark Industries were booming, he felt more than grateful for that fact. He couldn’t imagine an added stressor to the inner turmoil he dealt with on a daily basis. The mind he prided himself on couldn’t find a place to teether, the detachment of the routine he grew so accustomed to kicking him on his ass. Without Pepper, Tony didn’t have the buffer of someone telling him to go to bed or keeping most of the things in his life perfectly in order. He felt embarrassed to admit that it took him way too long to find where she put his belts in the closet after moving her own stuff out.

Not having that buffer also meant unlimited opportunity to spend all of his time consumed in the lab – so he let himself do just that. Aside from the alarm on his phone Friday night and Sunday afternoon, Tony didn’t think much about time. There were 72-hour stints in the lab that were quickly followed by an entire 24 of them in bed, dead to the world. It wasn’t healthy, he knew that – but it filled the gap.

There were so many things he needed to deal with in his personal life, lots of them topics Tony had been disregarding for most of his life. Having never learnt to deal with anything head on, Tony ignored it. Maybe that’s why he worked so hard – or maybe that’s why he decided to settle for something that wasn’t going to make either people a part of it happy. It felt easier to turn his head the other direction than actually face the fact that nothing would make him straight – not a single thing in this world.

He’d been taught from an early age to feel nothing but shame about it, too. If nothing else, Tony consciously understood that they were now in a totally different time of the world – that some things would need to change, but overall, there wouldn’t be too much detriment done. His insecurities, however – they were much louder than the literal facts he knew and understood, but obviously could not process – at least, not fully. A part of him thought that the right person – the right man – might change his mind and make it all worth it. He just never allowed himself to be in a position where he could find that man.

Between all of his time in the lab – there didn’t seem to be any change in his current position, either. No matter how solitary it felt when his little girl wasn’t around, Tony did nothing to change it. It felt like there’d been enough complicated in his life to really try and pursue anything else. That didn’t satisfy any of the thoughts in his head, or the yearnings within him – but it sure as hell kept him out of the news and focused on something that could be profitable.

For the most part, Tony didn’t get called out for it, either. Without Pepper there to literally pull him out of his chair and back onto whatever path he needed to be on – well, it was a lot easier for people to not see Tony for days on end. It didn’t matter, as long as he picked up Morgan and spent every second of the time he could with her – that’s all he was worried about.

Then, his little girl wasn’t so little anymore, he waited with Pepper and Steve as she turned around and waved at them one last time when they dropped her off for the first day of kindergarten.

“On Friday’s, you should pick her up from school, Tony,” Pepper said to him once Morgan was behind the sealed doors of the school’s entrance. Swiping off his sunglasses, Tony squinted at her, a brow raising. It wasn’t often that Tony got offered to spend extra time with his kid – so he didn’t think about how hard it’d been getting to pull himself out of his lab and out of the haze of nothing but relevant formulas and equations running through his brain.

“That sounds good, Pep. Thanks,” Tony finally replied, his eyes pointedly missing hers. He didn’t want to deal with whatever pitying look she might throw his way. Rubbing his chin, he let the silence linger for a second, then he turned around and started walking the other direction. “Always a pleasure,” he threw over his shoulder as a way of saying goodbye to the two of them. If he stuck around any longer, she’d be able to see the dark circles under his eyes and the collection of stubble on his upper cheeks he was usually so meticulous about taking care of.

There were gadgets and gizmos calling his name back in the lab, anyway.

He didn’t realize how fucked he actually was until he missed picking up Morgan for the fourth week in a row. The first couple of times he dealt with Pepper, she radiated hatred towards him. The fact that he spent time with Morgan was so important to her – despite the situation they were in, Pepper knew how much Tony loved their daughter. His slumps hadn’t been that bad in a while, but he couldn’t seem to pull himself out of this one. The lack of anger towards him this last failed attempt simply meant she moved past madness and into disappointment. It still smarted a little, having Pepper ever feel that way about him.

The next week, she didn’t give him a choice – her and Steve were going to Florida for the weekend and there was nothing he could do about it. Other than be on time to pick up their daughter, of course. Her rather blunt demands were clear; all Tony needed to do was get her at 3 from the carpool lane and the rest of the weekend was history. There were cartons of ice cream and a custom-made hot wheel car racing track waiting for them. He planned to let her use the entire living room, some of the modifications he made to the pieces would allow the cars to zoom around faster than the pure physics of the track would.

He got so caught up on a couple of the cars and fitting the wheels to run on the track that he let the snooze on his alarm to pick up Morgan go off more than a few times. When the annoying blare of the alarm finally managed to get through, it was already time to be there. Tony looked around panicked, his hands still covered in oil, some of the pieces he’d been working on spread out before him. Biting down on his lip, Tony dropped what was in his hands and got himself cleaned up – the clock ticking down ten minutes while he mucked around.

Disobeying the road signs got him to the school in less than eight minutes – his clock reading 3:21 when he threw the car into park and ran into the building. There were still plenty of people walking around, so he couldn’t be that late. Luckily, he didn’t have to get very far into the building, Tony recognized Morgan’s brown hair without the girl even having to turn around. The waves cascading down her back matched Tony’s when he let his own hair get a little longer. He felt himself smiling – his eyes moving from her over to the person squat down next to her, talking with kindly spoken words and wild hand gestures.

His daughter’s giggle had him stepping forward – the thought of her not even realizing his slip up something he felt grateful for (guilty, yes – but grateful nonetheless.) Tony almost stopped dead in his tracks when he finally managed to catch sight of the person’s face. The man was alluring – the skin of his cheeks pale and covering sharp cheek bones. His eyes were like diving into a river full of chocolate, delectable and overwhelming – Tony almost felt like they were pulling him in. It took a second to register that he was smiling – those pale cheeks coloring, the slightest crinkle at the corner of his eye making the man’s whole look pretty close to irresistible.

Morgan was too smart for her own good and followed the man’s eyes, her own lighting up when they met Tony’s for the first time in a week. “Daddy!” she exclaimed, her little feet carrying her over until she could throw her arms around him, her little nose pressing into his leg.

“Hey, sweet pea,” Tony replied, his hand running over her hair, then tugging at the little bow there, his tongue poking out in her direction. “Ready to go, stink face?” he asked her, his face in full blow smile mode now.

She grabbed his arm and pulled him over to the man, who was now standing tall – they were the same height, though Tony’s hair stood a little taller. He almost out right chuckled at the thought – his vanity ludicrous. “This is Mr. Peter, daddy.” Morgan looked up at him, her eyes wide, the excitement of introducing her favorite people to each other so evident there. Fuck, he loved the hell out of her.

“Hi, Mr. Peter,” Tony spoke softly, his hand sticking out on offer between them. Their gazes locked, the zing of it almost enough to drop his hand and send him to his knees. He kept himself upright, though – his teeth digging into the side of his cheek to keep his thoughts right there, in the here and now. “I’m Tony Stark.”

The warm grip that encased his hand almost brought him to his knees again – he didn’t think he ever felt something so – magnetic. Tony let his fingers squeeze Peter’s lightly, both men holding onto the shake for a couple seconds too long. “Oh, Mr. Stark – I absolutely know who you are. It’s great to meet you in person. Morgan has been talking about you for weeks, nice to know I was thinking about the right guy,” They finally let go, and Peter’s hands moved to rest in the back pockets of his dark jeans.

Tony looked down at his daughter, the man’s words hitting him in the gut. Okay, so maybe he needed to get his shit together – maybe it wasn’t all that okay that he hadn’t been there when she expected him. That was shit his own father did and more than anything, Tony wanted to be so much better than Howard could have ever dreamed. “I hope she told you all about Dum-E – we’ve been replacing his interface the past couple of weekends.” His voice was proud, the young girl’s intelligence something Tony took great stock in.

Watching Peter light up with a laugh shouldn’t have been as nice as it was – it shouldn’t have sent a shock to his very core. Never before, he thought, his hand tightening ever so slightly on Morgan’s shoulder. Morgan broke in before the other man could speak, her face turning red from how hard she tried to keep the words inside.

“I did, daddy. I think a lot of the kids don’t believe me when I talk about things with you – but I told Mr. Peter all about how you made him wear the dunce cap because he hosed you down for the hundredth time that day.” Morgan’s hands were going wild, her excitability coming from Tony – a trait he hoped she kept forever.

Tony saw Peter nod his head, the smile on his face growing. “She did – in fact, she told me all about your long history of bad interactions with the robot.” He looked at Morgan with affection, the man obviously very good at his job – very in tune with the children he taught. “We’ve got show and tell coming up, maybe you can bring him?” Peter shot him a smirk, his eyes twinkling.

Morgan didn’t waste any time jumping on board, either. “Oh, can we please, daddy? No one will have anything nearly as cool as that.” Her smile broadened and her eyes started to well a little – the patented puppy dog gaze doing its best to melt him.

Who the hell was he to deny anyone that looked that cute anything they desired? Tony cupped her cheek and grinned, his head nodding. “We absolutely can, baby girl.” The squeal he got in return made up for the fact that getting the robot to the school would be an absolute pain in the ass. Regardless, Morgan’s interest in all of his tech and the building process needed to be nurtured – even if that meant hauling an ancient science fair project to a kindergarten class filled with young, impressionable children.

His little girl thrusting her backpack at him brought him back from his thoughts, her big brown eyes looking up at him. “Can we go now, daddy? You promised we could play with the track and it’s going to be bedtime before I know it!” She looked at him seriously, her lips in the slightest pout. It wasn’t necessary, Tony was aware that Morgan knew that just as well as he did. Shouldering the bag, Tony nodded at her, a wink being sent her way.

“Well, it’s nice to have met you, Peter. Thanks for taking such good care of Morgan,” he ruffled her hair again, the girl’s hands coming up to try and stop him. His feet didn’t want to move, though – Tony’s eyes were once again locked with Peter’s and the few feet of distance between them felt like too much. A compulsion to close the distance rushed through him – each of his fingers physically aching to touch.

The big grin spreading across the other man’s face didn’t help, either. “It was nice to meet you too, Tony.” He gripped his bottom lip between his teeth for a few seconds, Tony’s instinct to touch growing steadily by the second.

It took every ounce of self-control to keep his entire body from launching across the space between them and narrow it down to nothing.

Instead, he put his hand down to his side, Morgan grabbing it by default. She glanced up at him and smiled a toothy grin – she’d lost her first tooth over the summer, something that was quite the feat for the five-year-old.  

He shot Peter another smile before tugging at his daughter’s hand, his skin suddenly crawling with a feeling he couldn’t describe. “See you next week, Mr. Peter,” Tony tossed over his shoulder as they walked out – the younger man’s eyes not leaving him the entire time. A squeeze to one of his fingers had Tony looking down at the small girl next to him.

“Did you get the mint chip ice cream?” Morgan asked, her voice all of the sudden higher pitched, her eyes wide with worry. He fucked up one time and didn’t replace the stash and this was the treatment he got. Rolling his eyes, Tony kept her on edge until they got to the car. He dropped her hand and made quick work of putting her in her seat.

When she was all buckled in, Tony tickled her tummy, the squirms and giggles totally worth the shoe he took right in the bicep. He leaned over and pressed a kiss to her head when their laughter died down, his heart full for the first time throughout that entire week. “I got mint chip ice cream and chocolate sauce. How’s that for sundae night?” Tony asked her, his pointer finger pressing against her nose in a very boop-like gesture.

The soft hand on his cheek surprised him for a second, Morgan going from laughter to total seriousness in the matter of a second. She totally got that trait from her mother, he thought – his eyes moving until he caught glances with his daughter. “I love you, Daddy,” Morgan said softly, her small fingers brushing his cheeks lightly. “Don’t tell mommy this, but you’re much better at sundae night. She tried to make me eat those bright red cherries – yuck!”

It felt a little easier to breath after that – he got in the car a whole lot more lighthearted than before, at least. Her babbles coming from the backseat were much better than anything Tony could have put on the radio – he loved learning more about Truffles the turtle and his adventures around the fish tank. One day he’d get her a dog and he couldn’t wait to see how she’d react to that – all of the stories she would tell.

Walking into the penthouse, Tony almost lost his shit right along with the little girl – her eyes lit up and her feet were carrying her over to the track he built before the rest of her body got on board. The trip and stumble she did added to the inability to keep a straight face – he slapped a hand over his mouth to continue to observe her silently. She walked around the track and inspected all of the different areas she knew Tony planned to change last weekend. “It looks like my red car is definitely going to win this time,” she mumbled, her hands skimming along the edges of it.

Despite loving the heck out of her, Tony felt determined to teach Morgan about reality and the ins and outs of navigating it. He never let her win and took lots of slack from Pepper about it – yet, it made her a smarter game player. She thought things through – she looked at the entire picture. If it made him an asshole to teach her that being the best was the only way to do things – well, he didn’t really give a shit. Tony already knew he was an asshole, anyway.

The few steps between himself and the living room were easily taken, his chest filled with excitement. Her reaction was exactly what he’d been looking for, the girl’s smile the single best thing Tony had in his life at present. He smiled in her direction, his eyebrows quirked, “we’ll see.” He swiftly picked her up, small arms wrapping around his neck without any hesitation. “Why don’t you go get changed into some lab clothes and we can find out,” Tony suggested, a kiss being placed on her cheek as he did.

Morgan giggled and kicked her feet, her hands pushing against him. “Put me down and I will.” He did exactly that, her legs moving the second she touched the ground. Getting to the end of the hall, she turned back and faced Tony, a mischievous glint in her eye – “you’re going down, daddy.”

----

Tony sat leaned against the island early the next morning – the dream he fell into last night still so very vivid, like every single touch he experienced within it was the real thing. His hands tightened around the mug in his hands, eyes slamming shut. It didn’t make sense, to feel so guilty – dreams were nothing, totally personal – no one had to or even got to know what was in them. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from playing it over and over again. Maybe that’s why he felt so dirty about it.

It wasn’t surprising when he fell into bed and immediately went to sleep the second his head hit the pillow. Between the races, copious amounts of ice cream, and the big game of tag they played right before bed, Tony was exhausted. He didn’t do a lot of sleeping during the earlier part of the week, either – so the rest was much needed. It wasn’t often he went through his sleep cycle enough to dream, he jumped awake at almost any sound or movement. Not last night, though – no, he’d gotten to live out the dream what felt like the entire night.

In it, he found himself on his knees. That made a lot of sense, actually – he liked that position and couldn’t remember the last time he found himself in it. His work-roughened hands were trailing along pale thighs, the skin there unblemished and slightly hairy – the muscle settled under the skin just right against his fingertips. His mouth was preoccupied with the expanse of a trim waist, tongue and teeth making a trail from one hipbone to the other.

It felt like the start of something very, very good.

Then, he looked up to catch the eye of the person above him and noticed chestnut curls, dark eyes, and pretty pink lips – the name Peter wanting to fall from his lips. Fingers were thrust into his hair and before he could think any more on it, Tony’s lips were wrapping themselves around an irresistible length – the tip already weeping with wetness, the tang of it pulling a moan from his chest. He set a vigorous pace and enjoyed every single second of it.

Right before what he assumed was a load of cum dripping down his throat, the hand in his hair gripped tightly, pulling his head back until Tony felt his lips slip off perfect, velvet heat – his eyes wide in confusion. “I want to cum with you inside of me,” Peter purred. Tony could do nothing other than get to his feet, his head being taken between two palms and brought forward until their lips were pressed together.

When he eventually bottomed out, Peter’s legs were on his shoulders, his knees pressing into Tony’s neck as their skin finally settled together. Because it was a dream, it went on forever. Tony could still remember the way the sweat trailed down the side of his face, his arms heavy and sore from holding his body up and thrusting with everything he had left. His stomach clenched tightly until there was nothing left but to jump off and give into the delightful pleasure of the free fall.

Even if was just a dream, Tony hadn’t ever cum that hard in his life and the result in his boxers when he jumped awake was something new, too. The last time he had a wet dream, he’d been under the age of 14 with no clue as to what in the hell was happening. Now, it felt a little shameful, like he couldn’t control his urges. In truth, that kind of seemed like the case. There weren’t even twelve hours between meeting the man and having a vivid fantasy about him.

Tony tried not to think about how very much his type the man was – or how Tony pictured a someone just like him in all his fantasies, long before he ever met the man.

Blinking, Tony brought his coffee cup up to his lips, the coldness of the bitter liquid a straight shock to his system. He spat it back into the cup and rolled his eyes – he must have been sitting there a lot longer than he initially thought. It shook him to the core though, how easily the other man affected him – how much Tony wanted, craved, hell – how much he needed. Hiding away from the world came with some downfalls – this one obvious enough. Suppression didn’t change the facts.

There wasn’t any use dwelling about it in that moment, however. Glancing down at the watch on his wrist, Tony figured he had 20 more minutes of silence before the sound of little feet barreling down the hallway engulfed the place. The thought brought a smile to his face, Tony very glad to have the distraction of fun times with his beautiful daughter. Especially after last night – a little quality time doing absolutely nothing other than having a good time was exactly what he needed. With that in mind, he got up from his slumped over position and strode further into the kitchen, the intent to make breakfast fresh on his mind.

Like he figured, Morgan sprinted into the room right around the time the bacon finished cooking – her eyes still muggy with sleep, but a soft smile on her face. “It smells good in here,” she eventually said, her bunny still in her hand as she climbed into her usual chair. “Did you do French toast, too?”

The spatula in his hand easily flipped the last couple of pieces of their breakfast while she spoke, his mind a lot clearer than just a few minutes earlier. He looked over at her, the spatula coming up to point in her direction. “Is it really breakfast without French toast?” Tony shot back. Her giggle was everything, a direct shot to the heart. Turning back to the stove, he dumped both pieces onto a plate and turned off the burner. It took a little constructing, but he had a nice-looking plate of cut up French toast pieces and two strips of bacon smothered in warm maple syrup in front of her within a couple of minutes.

“Bon Appetit,” he said with a flourish. Morgan clapped for him, though her eyes were glued to the food in front of her. Placing a kiss on her cheek, Tony walked back over the stove and put together his own plate before joining her. They ate in a companionable silence, which suited Tony just fine. He loved her never-ending commentary on everything – her brain was beautiful and was quickly starting to shape into something he couldn’t wait to see come to life. He also appreciated the times he got to watch her in silence, the way she stuffed several pieces of French toast into her mouth so endearing, despite being silly, too.

She even helped him clear the dishes – which blew him off his feet every time it happened. Tony knew they’d been trying to teach her manners and the rules of the land for the past five years – it was something completely different when the tangible example stood in front of him, her reaction genuine and without hesitation. “How do you feel about the zoo today, sweet pea?” Tony asked her, his hip hitting the dishwasher door to close it all the way.

“The zoo sounds perfect. As long as we can spend some time in the lab later. I want you to show me what you did to the wheels of your car,” Morgan responded immediately, her hands brushing some of the stray hair from her face. Tony couldn’t stop the laugh that slipped from his lips – her determination to beat him so goddamn cute.

Turning, Tony picked her up, his arms wrapping around her tightly. “Alright, that sounds like a deal. How many times should we feed the giraffes?”

A couple of hours later, Tony had a tuckered-out Morgan in his arms, the girl passed out after all the excitement of the zoo. Since they were up so early, they caught all of the animals during feeding time. Tony donated frequently to the city zoos, so it didn’t take anything other than mentioning of who he was to get them a little closer. As usual, the elephants and giraffes were a favorite amongst the two – Tony hoped the photographer at the exhibit got the big animal licking Morgan’s face, the whole scene absolutely priceless.

It was mutually decided to vacate the premises when the sun started to make the day really hot – the place was starting to get crowded, anyway. Walking back from the elephant exhibit, Morgan asked to climb into his arms and promptly fell asleep against his chest. She was growing up so fast – each week between visits making it seem like he missed so much of her life, of the beautiful process of watching her grow. Moments like this were ones he felt determined to cherish. He managed to get her back to the car and into the seat without waking her up – something he didn’t often accomplish. Her sleeping habits matched his in a lot of ways, being a light sleeper amongst them.

He knew she was tired when Morgan didn’t protest against the nap he suggested when they walked into the house. She simply grabbed her bunny and settled into the makeshift bed on the couch. Sitting down next to her, Tony stroked her hair while she slept for another hour – Amazing World of Gumball providing him comfort while the princess snoozed.

The total wind down brought energy back with a vengeance, though – the second she woke up, the rest of the day moved by in a whirlwind. They snacked on hot dogs and mac and cheese before tucking into the small area he made for her in his lab – all of the tools safe for the young girl to actually handle. Tony took apart his blue hot wheel car and showed her the modifications – her eyes roaming over everything his pointed to, her entire being focused on his words. When they made the same modifications to her car, she looked up at him triumphantly, a smirk on her lips. “Now I’m really going to beat you, daddy.”

And she did – a couple times, actually. The little dance she made up to rub the fact in his face made the couple extra modifications he made while she wasn’t looking worth it. Maybe letting her win every now and again wasn’t too terrible, especially when she learned so much throughout the process. He got to listen to her talk about her win the entire time they ate the pizza he ordered and well into the rest of the night, her mind still there when he settled her under the covers – his own fatigue wearing his patience down a little bit.

Tucking her in, he pressed a kiss to her forehead, a chuckle leaving his lips. “If you don’t stop rubbing it in, I’m not going to want to challenge you to a rematch tomorrow,” Tony whispered to her, his tone conspiratorial, like he was sharing a secret with her. “You have to go to sleep right now, or we’ll never know who the best winner out of three is.”

The soft gasp that escaped her lips almost cracked the serious façade – her worry tangible in how still she got on the bed, in how fast her little eyelids closed, the typical faking sleep thing coming into play. Rolling his eyes, he pressed another kiss to her forehead. “Sleep for real, okay? We’re gonna see if Uncle Happy has gotten any better at driving his go-cart since the last time.” He swiped his thumb against her cheek bone, a soft smile on his face. “Love you, peanut.”

Morgan turned her head and pressed a kiss against the hand still near her cheek. “I love you 3000, daddy.” Her response was immediate, the words always a kick right in the heart – making him melt just a tiny bit more.

When he peeked in on her later, he grinned at the way she was completely passed out, her bunny on the floor by the head of the bed. He picked it up and placed it within her reach – there’d been a time when she couldn’t do a damn thing without that stupid bunny. Shaking his head, he took one more glance at the small human he’d been gifted before walking out and heading to his own room.

Exhaustion took him under quickly again, the dreams so far from his mind throughout the day, he didn’t think about what a second night worth of them might be like. The desperation and neediness in his mind was manifesting into something Tony couldn’t control and for the most part, didn’t really want to, either. At least in his dreams, he could be himself – enjoy the hell out of the things he didn’t often let himself have. Things that – with each passing night and each sexier dream, he didn’t want to stop himself from having any longer, either.

Soon enough, Tony was taking Morgan into school on Monday morning, their epic weekend elongated a couple days because Pepper and Steve got caught in a storm that delayed their flight. The idea of getting a couple extra days with her daddy had Morgan running around the room, her hands clapping loudly. To stop the noise, Tony reminded her that she still needed to go to school and their weekend time would not extend into the week – he knew Pepper’s routine was strict and planned to keep to it.

Dropping Morgan off came with the extra perk of running into the gorgeous Peter, the young teacher in grey slacks and a navy-blue polo when Tony encountered him that first day of the week. Morgan didn’t bother sticking around, there were already a group of four other kids looking in her direction expectantly. Making a soft noise of hurt, Tony turned to walk out of the room when a voice stopped him.

“Mr. Stark – I’m surprised to see you again so soon,” Peter said, his long legs putting him in front of Tony before he could even process the words. His eyes betrayed him, the muscles firing to move them back and forth, the miles of the younger man’s skin being unconsciously catalogued. Blushing, Tony tore his gaze away for a second.

The long locks of Morgan’s hair over Peter’s shoulder calmed him immediately, his focus returning back to the gorgeous man after a moment. “Her mom is still out of town – so I’ve got her for the next couple of days. The extra time is greatly appreciated,” Tony replied, his cheeks slipping into a smile on their own. “It’s nice to see you again.”

The words were out before he could siphon them through the filter, yet – he could see Peter’s cheeks spread into a smile on their own, his chocolate brown eyes sparkling. How in the world did someone look that stunning? He shifted a little, trying to lessen the pressure of the building heat within him. Another person never affected him like this – especially with just a smile and a look.

“It’s nice to see you again, too. Morgan loves her mother; you can totally tell. The way she feels about you, though – it’s something else. The way you are with her is – it’s nice. Really nice,” Peter stuttered out the last couple of words, his cheeks taking on a scarlet blush. It was an endearing color, the red coordinating well with the darkness of his hair and the smooth pale skin encasing it.

The pressure he’d been trying to relieve built some more, his insides feeling like they were on the verge of explosion.

“She’s a miniature version of myself. That’s hard not to love,” he got out immediately, his eyes breaking from Peter’s to look over his shoulder again. All of the kids waiting at the door for her were gathered in a circle around her, the girl’s hands gesturing wildly as she told them a story. Probably the one about their race on Sunday where her car slid past the finish line a couple milliseconds before Tony’s did.  Glancing back, he noticed Peter’s smile softened, face still covered in that delicious blush.

“She’s also the coolest person on the planet. But I know you already know that.”

They both laughed at that, the truth of it pretty undeniable. Peter shook his head, the obvious attempt to clear it making the longer hair on the front of his head fall into his eyes – the look of it even more stunning – disheveled looked good on the young teacher. The look they shared went on a little longer than should have been appropriate, a little arm grabbing Peter’s leg the only thing that brought both of them out of the haze. Tony sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide for a second.

He’d been so comfortable trapped in the fog of shared connection – for the first time in his entire life, Tony didn’t feel ashamed by the fact that another man was the reason for the big smile on his face. That thought was scary and sent him in the other direction quickly. “I’ll get out of your hair. Have a nice day, Peter,” Tony offered, his feet already carrying him out the door.

----

Fortunately for both Tony and Morgan, Pepper and Steve remained stuck in Florida for the rest of the week – which meant they got to hangout after school every day. It didn’t hurt, either, the fact that Tony got to drop her off and pick her up – each time he did, his interactions with Peter got better and better, the man interesting and seemingly interested in Tony, too.

Rolling into Friday, Tony was excited to head into the weekend – they were planning on heading to Central Park the next day, Morgan excited to see all of the puppies and run around the green, green grass. Her enjoyment of the little things never ceased to amaze him. Regardless, he felt great, his daughter’s presence a huge part of that. A very, very huge part of that.

Waking up to take care of her before school made the day start on a good note – the time between dropping her off and picking her up, Tony let himself obsess over the work on his desk in the lab. The act of stepping out and doing something else broke up his concentration and made leaving the lab so much easier. It seemed crazy, how much a couple extra days with his favorite person could change things up for him.

And, okay – Tony had to admit that being open in his flirting with Peter during their brief conversations felt pretty good, too. For whatever reason, the man made him feel like he could be himself – like the fact that he smiled too big and looked too long wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, Tony could swear he found Peter glancing at him, staring when he thought Tony wasn’t paying direct attention. He always made sure to stop and talk to Tony when he came to pick Morgan up, his cheeks stained with a now recognizable (and stupidly attractive) flush.

It was so obvious that Tony found himself speechless when Morgan practically shouted – “I think Mr. Peter likes you, daddy,” from the back of the car on the way home Thursday afternoon. Like many things with Morgan, the bluntness of her actions felt like a punch to the gut. A needed one, maybe – but a punch to the gut, nonetheless. He glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, the little girl’s attention never straying from the bunny in her hands, despite the words coming from her mouth.

She turned out to be right, though – Peter caught his eye before Morgan did when he went to pick her up on Friday. Tony watched delicately long legs bring Peter towards him, that smile he liked so much plastered on the other man’s face. “Hey, Tony,” he started, a determined look on his face. “It’s probably a little unorthodox – me just coming up to you like this. But uh – I was wondering if you’d like to go out with me, uhm – this weekend?” The way he sputtered through the question made Tony’s heart quake, the muscle working overtime in the moment.

Smiling wide, Tony could do nothing other than nod – his throat a little tight from the range of emotions running through him. Most of the exchanges he had with men in the past happened in the darkness of night, not in the middle of a kindergarten classroom. He couldn’t find it in him to be mad about it, though – this felt much more right, more wholesome and real. Like maybe, if he went about things the right way, it could be more than just once – that concept so foreign to Tony, so different than the settling he’d done in the past.

“Yes – I would like that very much. I have Morgan all weekend, though – she’ll have to tag along,” Tony replied – he wasn’t going to feel bad about including the girl, they’d probably have a great time simply because she was there, anyway.

Peter didn’t bat an eye; his smile grew at the mention of Morgan – the man had an obvious soft spot for her. “I already figured. I thought maybe we could go to the park, or something. I usually spend Saturday morning out and about with Gracey, my dog.” His smile was huge, the prospect of spending time with him and Morgan something that seemed to truly make him happy.

Tony’s eyes lit up at the mention of a dog, his heart skipping another beat – the entire situation got better and better as the seconds past. “A dog? Oh, squirt is going to shit her pants. I can’t wait to see that,” Tony said nonchalantly, his eyes sparkling. “We were going to go to Central Park – is that a fine enough establishment for the lovely Gracey?”

Morgan ran towards them as they spoke, her light up shoes flashing with each step. Her arms reached up, the universal signal to be picked up. Leaning down, Tony swept her up, her small frame tucking against his side easily. He reminded himself to soak in the moments like this one, the smallness she had now wouldn’t stick around forever. He bit down on his tongue to chase that thought away – things were going well; it’d be stupid to bog them down with stuff that didn’t matter.  

“Central Park sounds great. Is 9 too early for you guys?” Peter looked between the two of them, the man obviously including Morgan in the decision, too.

“Morgan, Peter is going to join us for our walk through Central Park tomorrow with his doggie Gracey, does that sound okay to you? Is 9 too early?” He bounced her on his hip slightly, the movement making her giggle.

“Yes, daddy. That sounds like fun. Mr. Peter, will I be able to play with your dog?” Morgan asked innocently, her head tilted in curiosity – her mind spinning like a pinwheel, the girl so much like her daddy.

A soft laugh left the other man’s chest, his lips tugging into that patented smile. “Gracey loves new friends, she’ll be excited to make one out of you, Morgan,” Peter replied softly. “I even think she’ll let you walk her if you’re extra good.”

Morgan’s face became serious after that, her jaw set in child-like resolve. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise,” she said, holding out a pinkie between them. She waited patiently, a smile on her face the entire time.

“I’m going to hold you to that,” the other joked, his pinky flying out to join Morgan’s in the pinky swear handshake she’d taken to doing. He even knew to press his thumb against hers so they could stamp it – the promise now made and not able to be broken.

Shaking his head at the two of them, Tony used his free hand to reach into his pocket to grab a business card. Their fingers grazed when he handed it over, a smirk on Tony’s face. In that moment, he felt confident – happy with the way things were going for once. “Text me later, we’ll figure out somewhere to meet.” Tony didn’t say he wanted Peter to have his number just in case he wanted to talk, or for emergencies – little things like that.

Tony watched Peter pocket the card, a satisfied feeling settling in his chest. Looking up at Morgan, he used his fingers to tickle her stomach – the action never failing to get the exact reaction he was looking for. Her laugh brought him pure joy and always would. “Tell Mr. Peter we’ll see him tomorrow,” Tony prodded, the two men sharing a look when she turned her head towards him, the promise she made obviously still fresh in her mind.

“See you tomorrow. I can’t wait to meet Gracey,” Morgan added, her smile cheeky – the trademark Stark smirk slowly starting to slip into her repertoire. “Can we go now, daddy?” Her words sounded familiar, Tony heard them every day this week, his flirtations with Peter digging into her social life, apparently.

Chuckling, Tony pressed a kiss to her cheek, any irritation he felt melting the second it entered his brain. She was too damn cute for her own good – the damn kid had him wrapped around her finger. “Sure thing, squirt. See you tomorrow, Peter,” Tony said, his eyes meeting the others for a few seconds, the gaze warm and a little heated – their promise not coming in the form of a pinky swear.

It didn’t take much for either of the Stark’s to get moving the next morning. Partly because Tony promised donuts for breakfast if Morgan didn’t give him any hassle at bedtime – which she did not – not a single bit of it whatsoever. He knew her sugar high later in the day would kick his ass, yet – the idea of watching her bounce off the walls made his heart race a little. Having fun was easy with the little girl around, even if it meant that fun came from watching the little girl enjoy herself.

At the donut shop, they stood with their noses pressed against the glass, each trying to decide what the best selection would be. “Do you think Mr. Peter is a glazed guy? Or a filled donut type? Or should we just get a bunch of different ones and cross our fingers?” Tony asked her idly, the little girl looking up at him with a shrug.

“You should just get one of everything. Especially that big chocolate one back there,” answered, her eyes glued to the biggest donut in the case. Shaking his head, Tony followed her advice and grabbed one of everything. Between that a chocolate milk and the two coffees, they were pretty much set.

He let Morgan run in front of him when they got closer to the park – they’d been there enough for the girl to know where they were and to be aware of where he was. She didn’t seem to think it prudent to stray too far, anyway – she came babbling back to him every few steps with the next observation. It went on until they finally got to the point where they were meeting Peter, the younger man already standing there with a gorgeous blue bull terrier, the dog already straining at the leash as they approached.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony greeted, his hand already moving to hold the cupholder out between them. “Morgan got this crazy chocolate donut, but there’s a ton of other sugary goodness in there, if you’re interested. Cream and sugar, too,” he let Peter take the second coffee, then held the bag up. Peter took the coffee and most of the cream and sugar – his face sheepish for a second before going all in. Tony grinned at that, his taste for black coffee never coming in handy more. Tony got the bag back with a plain glazed donut missing and a soft smile.

“Thank you, Starks. You guys are clutch – I was just telling Gracey how hungry I was,” Peter started, his words cut up a little by the bits of donut he was chewing in his mouth. Tony watched transfixed, the human in front of him getting cooler by the second. “We did our morning jog around the park already, so she’ll be ready for a casual stroll now.”

Looking at him, Tony could see running shoes on his feet and long joggers – they sat delectably on the man’s ass, the fabric just on the right side of tight. It took him a second to pull his gaze away and when he did, he took a couple of clearing breaths, each one only slightly loosening the clench in his chest. “Sounds like you’ve had a productive morning. Want to walk a little and find a place to sit down? Morgan is practically bursting at the seams to pet Gracey – who is absolutely beautiful, by the way.”

The smile back at him had the clenching tightness in his chest coming back – Tony realizing in that instant that it was just Peter making him feel that way. The feeling was foreign, something that shouldn’t make sense or feel the way it did – at the same time, Tony felt himself giving into that clench with every second that passed. Maybe this is what it felt like to actually like someone – to feel nervous and apprehensive and elated to freely be enjoying every second.

Tony returned the glowing grin with one of his own – his heart stammering in his chest in the best of ways.

“I’m surprised they haven’t jumped each other yet, to be honest. Gracey isn’t usually all that patient. I like your idea, though – I saw another donut in that bag I might like to try, too,” Peter spoke in such a calm way, his demeanor relaxed, the other man seemingly lacking the nerves coursing through Tony.

They set a slow pace, both Morgan and Gracey way out ahead of them, the little girl trying to bend down and pet the dog’s flank every few steps. When they passed a trash can, Tony threw away the drink carrier with his now empty coffee – the freedom of his hands something he appreciated when he and Peter started to drift a little closer. “Tell me a bit about yourself,” Tony murmured after a while. The silence between them was nice, but Tony was interested – he figured there was more beyond the surface of the man standing next to him.

Peter stayed silent for a couple of minutes, the man obviously formulating his answer. From the beginning, Tony noticed that Peter didn’t jump into anything, he thought about his words and delivered them with meaning. Tony forced himself to be patient and wait to hear what the other man said – his natural instinct to ask another question becoming easier to tamper down with every single exposure to Peter. He let his arm swing between them, instead, his attention slipping between their matching steps and the slight brush of Peter’s hand against his own as they took them.

“When I’m not Mr. Peter, I create code for websites and watch an abundance of Bob’s Burgers. I grew up in Queen’s, so New York has always been home for me. Gracey and I have been living that single life together for about four years now- oh, and I’m deathly allergic to honey,” Peter finally replied, his head turning ever couple of words to catch Tony’s eyes as he spoke. “What about you, Tony Stark? What makes you tick?” the words were low and accompanied by a head tilt towards a bench a few feet ahead of them.

There wasn’t a lot of room on the bench, so they needed to sit pretty close to each other – which, for Tony, felt like a precious gift. Their shoulders settled together, the warmth radiating against Tony’s right side absolutely staggering – everything about Peter felt that way. Watching Morgan for a second, he saw her and Gracey getting to know each other – the easy way the dog let her in and started to play meant they’d have at least a few minutes of distraction.

With the donuts between them, Tony let his free hand run along the length of the bench, his fingers just a few inches shy of ending up on Peter’s shoulder. He relaxed into the seat, the general goodness of the scene too good not to enjoy. “To be honest with you, I’m kind of a boring guy. I spend way too much time in my lab, which is completely covered in nanotech at the moment, so there’s many hours to be wasted. I like old rock music and great whiskey. And Morgan. Being her dad is one of the best bits of me,” he turned then, catching eyes with Peter. The man shifted a bit while Tony spoke, his knee now pulled up onto the bench.

He looked at Tony with such an open expression, his entire body seemingly willing to take in all the facts thrown his way. With a quick breath, Tony let his biggest shame slip from his lips – the idea of having someone understand him making it easier than it should have been. “I’ve also been closeted for most of my life – so there’s a lot about me that I don’t really know about.” He felt his face color as the words sounded between them – an embarrassment embracing him simply because he admitted something like that.

A knee hitting his thigh was not the reaction he expected – though, Peter wasn’t at all what he expected, either – so maybe he should get used to that feeling. Shifting a bit, Tony let Peter’s knee press a little more firmly into his thigh – the touch comforting, despite the mortification running through him from his little confession.

“None of that sounded boring. Especially the nanotech. You may need to show me that sometime soon,” Peter started, his body moving until the arm Tony had around the back of the bench could easily fit around his shoulders. There wasn’t any expectation in the move, just reassurance of understanding, a silent confirmation that Peter did in fact get what Tony was going through. “Are you going to stay there?” The unspoken ‘in the closet’ wasn’t missed, its implication as clear as the attraction between them.

With Peter so close, Tony gave in a little, his fingertips trailing along the edge of Peter’s shoulder, the touch barely there. Thinking about it, Tony knew that he couldn’t – stay in the closet. Not any longer. Not after taking several years from another human’s life, just to keep a secret that, for all intents and purposes, didn’t mean shit to anyone but himself and himself alone. So many things warred inside of him, but he knew he wasn’t – not when there were so many parts of life he missed out on already.

“No – definitely not. It’s kind of a lonely place. One I don’t think I really need to be in any longer,” Tony said, finality and determination in his voice. He didn’t want to run down the street shouting about his love for cock, he might never get to that level, but he liked being out with Peter – he enjoyed the casualty of being with someone that made him feel good. And if Morgan taught him anything in the last few days, it was that he deserved to be happy – things in life went a lot better when a resounding feeling of joy overtook the dread of always being tucked away.

Peter’s free hand patted his thigh softly, his shoulder pressing into Tony’s side. “Good, the grass is definitely greener on the other side,” he said softly. Tony felt himself smile, the hand on the bench closing the last few inches and wrapping around his shoulders, pulling him close. Green on the other side, indeed.

The rest of the morning went by in a haze of laughter, too much sugar, and the constant babble of one Morgan Stark. They walked around the park for another hour or so – Morgan’s sugar rush hitting right around the time Peter offered to let her walk Gracey. By the time they were walking back towards their cars, Morgan was walking sluggishly with the equally tired dog – Peter and Tony sharing a grin over their heads. “Do you want to come back to ours? I can get these two set up with some lunch and a place to crash for a little while,” Tony asked, the hilarity of how close they actually parked by each other wearing off when they collected to say goodbye.

Tony wasn’t ready for the day to end – and by the way Morgan kept herself close to Gracey’s lead, she wasn’t ready for it to end, either. Like they were running on the same wavelength, Tony and Morgan both looked over at Peter with puppy dog eyes – the Stark looks working in more ways than one.

It seemed like they managed to melt him in his tracks, Peter’s face softened, and a hearty laugh fell from his lips. “You two are going to be quite the pair, aren’t you?” He shook his head, his smile growing. “I don’t have anything else planned for the day, so I’m down. As long as you give me lunch, too. Six donuts aren’t even close to being enough,” Peter rubbed his stomach, his eyebrows arching.

The possibility of spontaneously combusting washed over him for a second, his face heating up, cheeks burning with a certain sort of fire. What in the actual fuck was happening to him? Biting down on his lip, Tony reined himself in, his head nodding. “You got it, dude,” Tony responded, his hand reaching down to grab Morgan’s, her face once again happy now that her time with Gracey wasn’t coming to an end yet. “I’ll send you the address, but we’re going straight back – if you want to follow.”

After getting Morgan into the seat and onto the road, Tony turned the AC/DC they’d been jamming to early down and looked over his shoulder. “How was that? Seems like you had a lot of fun with Gracey,” Tony remarked, his lips tugging into a soft grin.

“Gracey is my new best friend, daddy. Peter said he had a ball for her in his car. Can we play with it back at the house? I’ll try not to break anything,” Morgan’s words came out in one clump, her excitement and inability to control it spilling out all over the place. Her feet were kicking, and the bunny was back in her arms.

He snorted, his hand clenching around the steering wheel to stop himself from laughing outright – there was no denying that she was his child. “As long as you try not to break anything. You can go into the big guest room without the bed – you guys can run around all you want in there.” Keeping his eyes on the wheel, he reached back to pat her knee lightly. “Glad you had fun, pumpkin.”

A while later, Tony and Peter were tucked onto the couch in the Stark living room, the race car track now put away (and by that, he meant fully functional in one of the other guest rooms) to give a clear view of the tv once again. Peter’s surprisingly good cooking skills came in handy when they made fresh tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches.

Watching Peter show Morgan how to crunch up Goldfish into her soup made his heart skip a couple of beats – and any delusion of not being totally smitten with Peter was out the window. His kid meant the world to him, the simple fact that she didn’t miss a beat with Peter around spoke volumes.

Morgan and Gracey were snuggled up together on the floor of the little girl’s room. The excitement of the morning and purposeful heartiness of the meal had her down for the count pretty quickly – the dog following her not long after that. Which left Peter and Tony with the illusion of some time alone together. Tony put on one of the movies within reach, which turned out to be Wreck It Ralph, and joined the other on the couch. A part of him hoped the choice of movie wouldn’t matter – there were other, better things they could be doing.

Other than the little chuckle when the menu popped up, Peter said nothing about what flashed across the tv screen. Tony settled into the couch the same way he did earlier on the bench, with his arm across the back of the chair. Peter didn’t beat around the bush, though – he settled into the warmth of Tony’s side, the intoxicating smell of his curly locks apparent now that they were so close. With a soft breath, Tony wrapped his arm around Peter, his lips pressing against his forehead.

“Thanks for hanging out today. I haven’t had this much fun in a while,” Tony whispered, his lips still pressed against Peter’s skin. And that was the total truth – Tony couldn’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself so much – when his happiness did not depend solely on Morgan and how she was feeling. In a moment of clarity, he thought about how much pressure that was for such a young kid. Well, then.

Shaking his head, he pulled a little until Peter was pressed flush against his chest – his enjoyment of the non-sexual connection something new and exciting. He recalled the word intimacy and wondered if that’s what he was experiencing in that very moment. A hand came up to cup his cheek, Peter shifting until he could see Tony over his shoulder.

“Thanks for having me. You seem to be a very good man, Tony Stark,” Peter said in answer a couple minutes later, the two of them trying to soak up the closeness – Tony desperate for whatever he could get of it.

Though the angle was weird, Tony leaned forward and pressed his lips against Peter’s, the hand on his cheek grasping a little tighter. Peter responded to him immediately, his lips melding to Tony’s in a way that sucked the oxygen right from him. Pulling away slowly, Tony blinked his eyes open – the world looking a little bit different when he did. He never believed all the cliché bull shit about love at first sight, but there was something about this feeling – Tony might find himself becoming a believer, after all.

Peter’s smile had him pressing in again, the touch chaste – just enough for Tony to remember the feeling, the more exposure he got, the better the memory would be. The other man tried to turn in his arms, but the patter of little feet on the floor outside of the room stopped him. If this were any other time, he would have jumped off the couch – guilt written in his expression. Instead, Tony and Peter shifted a little until they were merely sitting next to each other – the older man’s arm draped casually along the back of the couch.

The click of nails followed the noisy footsteps and soon they were joined by Morgan and Gracey – the little girl settling herself on Tony’s lap. She looked between the two of them and then back at the screen – her brown eyes wide. “You’re not supposed to watch Ralph without me, daddy. You too, Peter,” she sounded exasperated – like they were really testing her patience.

By the end of the movie, both Morgan and Peter were passed out against him, the soft snores fluttering the sleeve of his shirt making it hard to move. He shifted a little, intent on putting Morgan to bed for a little while longer and letting Peter sleep his nap out.

The second he moved, though, Peter blinked awake, the sleepiness so apparent on his face utterly adorable. “Damn, I missed the end. I love the Mentos volcano he makes,” Peter mumbled, his body shifting to sit up, the heat of it against Tony’s side immediately missed. “I should probably get going. I have twenty construction paper projects I need to cut out before Monday.”

Tony grinned, the normalcy that Peter treated him with the best of the new feelings he’d been experiencing. Peter was somebody he could merely share life with – the idea a little dizzying. He held up a finger and got up off the couch. “Let me get Morgan into bed and I’ll walk you out.”

It didn’t take long to get Morgan tucked into her bed, the movie she’d been watching earlier started over, so he lowered the volume and walked back out into the living room. Peter was squatted down next to Gracey, his hands running over her head. He straightened up when he noticed Tony coming back into the room, the look on his face soft.

“Thanks again, Tony. I had an amazing time.” Peter took the last few steps to narrow the distance between them, one of his arms wrapping around Tony’s shoulders.

Following suit, Tony got both his arms around Peter’s waist and pulled him closer, their lips finding each other without much thought. Though he craved a deeper toucher, Tony kept the pass of their lips stay tame, teasing – just on the right side of intimate. When he pulled away, Tony leaned his forehead against Peter’s for a second, a long breath being drawn into his lungs.

“Me too. Can we do it again? I’ll be back on my own during the week, I’d love to take you out.” Tony’s words sounded confident, but nervousness ran through him – no matter how often he’d done this with women, it was completely different with a man, this man particularly. He felt a little out of his depth, and ultimately – scared out of his fucking mind. An answer came in the way of long fingers running through his hair and a gooey smile, Peter’s eyes gleaming.

----

And so it went for a while. Morgan went home the very next morning, Pepper was grateful and offered to let him pick her up a little more often from school – to which Tony readily agreed. Spending all of his time with her this week made Tony realize just how much he missed her, how important making sure he was there actually was to him. No more missing Friday afternoon pick-ups – no matter how cool the shit in the lab ended up being. Before she left, Pepper pressed a kiss to his cheek – her voice soft when she spoke. “You look happier. Whatever you’re doing, keep it up.”

He knew he didn’t need permission from her, but it felt a lot better to open his life to Peter with Pepper’s insistence that he allowed himself to be happy. In the 10 years they’d been together, Tony talked to Pepper about his true wants and feelings a grand total of two times. She never judged and gave him more than any sound human probably would have. Maybe that’s why it felt so monumental – her blessing, because out of all the people in his life, she knew the one piece of him he never wanted to share before. It didn’t color her opinion of him one bit.

Getting back into the flow of dating didn’t take any work at all – with Peter by his side, it felt like he’d known the man for most of his life. He was easy to talk to, fun to be around, and filled to the brim with ideas and wants. Every time they spoke, it felt like he learned something new and for a person like Tony, that was quite the feat. Their knowledge base and experiences were vastly different – but the ability to give and take was not. Tony hung on every one of Peter’s words, simply because wanted to and he knew Peter did the same when he spoke.

Their dates started out small, little places that wouldn’t attract much attention, despite the fact that Tony Stark was there and buying their food. It’d been a while since his divorce from Pepper, so the media attention seemed to have dulled considerably. Though there was no anonymity, Tony didn’t have to hide Peter too much. He was ready to take the necessary steps to be in a relationship, to let the world in on a little piece of him he’d been keeping to himself – he just wanted it to happen on his own terms.

When Tony wasn’t feeling adventurous and wanted to spend quality time with Peter, they camped out in the penthouse and cooked together, or ordered from the little Thai place the younger man preferred. In the bubble of elegant simplicity, Tony flourished. It was easy to be with Peter, to function around another human that was not only a good person, but one he found himself undeniable attracted to. The happiness he felt was the pure kind – the stuff he didn’t think he’d ever allow himself.

On the days Tony had Morgan, they went out and did some of the adventures that Peter always talked about. Morgan and Gracey were the best of friends by that point – the girls were always together whenever Peter graced them with the dog’s presence. There were many Friday evenings spent in the living room of the Stark residence with Morgan and Gracey cuddled together in the little sleeping bag, fast asleep. He always felt the best when they were all together – Peter was the perfect person to oppose his laid-back way of parenting and adored Morgan almost as much as he did.

They jumped the Pepper hurdle one Sunday when she walked in to pick up Morgan. Tony and Peter were still sitting at the small table in the kitchen, coffee cups in their hands. The little girl barreled into the room with fresh teeth and a bow they managed to wrangle into her hair just moments earlier. “Hi, mommy,” Morgan greeted her, the little voice breaking the silence.

Pepper leaned down and said something to Morgan, the little girl nodding and running back out of the room – the promise of Steve and his iPad more enticing than anything the group of grown-ups had to say.

“So, you’re the Peter she’s always mentioning. It all makes sense now. No wonder you like picking her up all of the sudden, Tony,” Pepper pointed out, her hand squeezing Tony’s shoulder lightly. “Her stories are always filled with so much joy. If you’re happy, I’m happy.” She looked between them, then kept her gaze steadily on Tony. “Don’t fuck this up, Stark. He’s one of the best teachers in the city.”

The real challenge came when a picture finally got out with Tony and Peter in a less than innocent encounter – the reality of what they were to each other so very obvious in the snap the photographer was able to get. Pepper sent it to him about an hour before it went public, her plan of action for the news and what might happen attached to the ‘Sorry it happened this way’ that started the message. It was a little gutting, seeing he felt to be so precious out in the open like that – like it was something to be picked apart and discussed. It came with the territory, though – no matter what happened in his life, everyone wanted to catch a glance at it.

“At least they’re not trying to call you a playboy, anymore,” Peter joked when he saw him later, the man’s arms around him, his bony chin digging into Tony’s shoulder. “And it is a nice picture.”

Tony leaned into the embrace, a soft chuckle falling from his lips. It was a nice picture – he begrudgingly had to admit it. They were walking out of Eleven Madison Park, Tony’s arm wrapped around Peter’s shoulder, Peter’s arm wrapped around Tony’s waist. Tony’s head was turned, and his lips were pressed to the mess of hair on top of Peter’s head. The smile on his face could be read as nothing other than sheer affection – even love. There wasn’t a single feeling of shame in his body – just a bit of disappointment that he didn’t get to show Peter off in his own way. The speculation about him would be whatever it was – at this point, it didn’t matter.

Spending so many years locked away in a glass case of self-denial felt like punishment enough – he could take whatever the media had to throw his way. The Stark name held up so many things throughout the world, he doubted Tony Stark having a husband instead of a wife would change that too much. “Yeah, it is. I hope you’re ready for this. It’s going to be a circus for a little while.”

Admitting it made the reality of it settle in, the thought of just how much things would change for them for a little while daunting – almost enough to send him back into the dark, tail between his legs. The tight squeeze he got kept him in check, Peter’s voice grounding as it surrounded him. “I think it’ll be alright. They’ll get tired of how boring we are together eventually,” Peter muttered, the words pulling a laugh out of them both.

“Thanks for being here, Peter,” Tony whispered, leaning back into the other’s embrace.

“You couldn’t keep me away.”  

[cardinaldaughter]

Good Omens Changed My Life. Twice.

Bear with me. This is super long, and super personal. But I figured, on the 30th anniversary of the book, I’d share with you all just how important Good Omens is to me, even if I didn’t fully understand how much until recently.

A thirty-year-long tale under the cut.

(mentions of death, homophobia, religion and politics)

I was born 30 years ago in the American South. While not exactly actively political, my parents were conservative, as was basically everyone I knew. And so I grew up exposed to Fox News and Glenn Beck and the NRA and conservative view points. I remember telling my father I couldn’t wait to grow up so I could be in the NRA with him. I remember thinking how I was going to vote for a republican when I was old enough to vote. What little I understood about the world, I understood from a conservative perspective, and because I was a child, I trusted the adults around me and believed what they said was sincere and trusted that their beliefs and intentions were honest.

During my childhood, I spent a great deal of time with one of my aunts. She was like a second mother to me, and I think, in some ways, I was probably her “second chance” at motherhood, considering she didn’t have a great relationship with her son. I spent most of my Saturday’s with my aunt. We went on all kinds of adventures together, and I loved her probably more than anyone in the world, my parents included.

When I was 10, she lost her battle to cancer. It was the second major death I’d experienced as a child, but this one struck harder and hurt much deeper. If it weren’t for the fact that this post is about Good Omens (I’m getting there, I promise) I would spend the rest of my time trying to express to you how much I loved this woman, and how deeply her death impacted me. But that’s another story for another time.

My aunt, during her last few years of life, started going to a church. And when she died, those people showed up to the funeral. And by showed up, I mean physically and emotionally. They sang songs. They helped my mom with arrangements (she was in charge). They brought us food. They loved on me, even though I didn’t know them. They clearly loved my aunt, and that love carried over to her family. And my parents- who weren’t exactly Christians and didn’t attend church- were extremely moved. So my mom decided to go to that church the following Sunday to thank them for their kindness. We never left.

That church became home. I met people there who changed my life. These people became brothers, sisters, mentors, friends. They helped fill the gap my aunt’s death had left, and though I was struggling and unable to properly mourn (which I wouldn’t understand for another decade or more) I felt better. I felt loved. I felt accepted. As I grew up there, attending the academy run through the church and getting more involved in ministry, I began paying more and more attention to what the adults around me were saying. And like most conservatives, they lamented over the evils of abortion and homosexuality and liberal ideology. And because I loved these adults, trusted them, respected them, believed them, I adopted the same beliefs. I was a child; they were adults. They couldn’t be wrong, right? I attended a community college for two years, then transferred to a close by university that was far enough away that I needed to move to an apartment in another city, but close enough that I could still come home frequently. But it meant leaving the church. I promised my friends I’d be back every Sunday I could make it. I didn’t want to leave, because all my friends were at that church, and it was home. But I wanted to get my bachelor’s, so I packed my things and I moved with the determination that I would come running home as soon as I was able. Before I left, I was told by a couple people in the church: “Now when you get to college, don’t open your mind so much that your brain falls out!” I thought that was an incredibly stupid thing to say, because it was in itself ridiculous- having an open mind was not a bad thing- but also because I was secure in my beliefs. I wasn’t going to change. Once at university- despite being incredibly shy and introverted, I managed to make a few friends. One was a Jewish atheist, and another was a girl from India who practiced Hinduism. Both were so far out of my understanding of life that I was fascinated, but rather than trying to “save them” (something I’d NEVER been comfortable with, so I just used my shyness as an excuse not to “witness” to people) I listened. Their stories were fascinating. And I am so grateful they were willing to share their experiences with me, and for a time I was very close to them both.

Okay. Now for the part you’ve been waiting for.

During this time at college, I, through a roundabout way, discovered Good Omens. After some major difficulty in hunting down the book, I got my hands on a copy- where an angel and demon reject everything they’ve been told they should be in order to help save the world. I didn’t understand why at the time, but I identified with Crowley. I felt a kinship with him I wasn’t qualified to fully appreciate, but I absolutely loved him. This demon who deep down didn’t want to be evil; who’s only real crime had been asking questions- something about that resonated with me.

“Why would asking questions be considered a bad thing?” I wondered.

It was during this time that, thanks to friends who were so different than me, and professors who had a much broader sense of the world, and thanks to some inspiration from a wily serpent, I found myself doing something I’d never done before:

I started questioning everything I’d ever been told.

Because, if I was honest with myself, I genuinely didn’t understand why two men or two women couldn’t get married. I didn’t understand why a woman was forced to have a baby she didn’t want or couldn’t care for. I didn’t actually want to join the NRA because I didn’t actually like guns. They made me uncomfortable, and I thought there should be more regulations on them. I read about and agreed with the tenants of feminism. I began learning about the LGBT community and realized that once I stopped being told over and over again that these people were evil sinners bound for hell, I realized that they were just normal people like me trying to find their place in the world and love with dignity and freedom. What was evil about that? “Oh god,” I said my senior year of college, when I realized the devastating truth I had been reluctant to face. “I can’t be liberal! I can’t be a feminist! I’m a Christian!” - I said this to myself numerous times, because I had been taught that to be a Democrat or a feminist was fundamentally non-Christian. And I had a years-long identity crisis over this. I struggled with this inner turmoil that I felt- how can I be a liberal feminist AND a Christian? Surely I can’t... 

But I was. This realization caused me to have a full-on identity crisis. I cried. I panicked. I prayed for God to correct my thinking if I was wrong. I only grew more convinced of my convictions.

Finally, I graduated and moved back home. I got married to the love of my life. I resumed going to church. I figured maybe if I just stop asking questions, things will go back to normal, and I won’t go to hell for my spiritual misstep. But everything felt different, somehow. My husband didn’t seem really political, so I never asked his opinions on things. I kept my thoughts to myself, having a completely hidden existential crisis while I sat in the church I’d grown up in with the people I’d once loved and trusted and believed implicitly, and realized I no longer trusted or believed them. Finally, a couple years into our marriage, I broke down and confessed to my husband (who I met at church, by the way) how I was feeling about...well,  everything. In a truly relieving turn of events, he felt the same way I did. I was so relieved to finally speak out about my feelings, about how I wasn’t conservative but was so afraid of that fact. How I was a feminist. How I wanted to vote third party in the 2012 election (because I was too afraid to commit to the sin of voting democrat, which to some people in my church, it would have been.) Political discussions with my husband increased in volume, length, passion, and frustration. We started keeping up with politics more, especially as we realized we were adults now and these things mattered. We talked a lot about our opinions, and how those opinions didn’t exactly line up with the church. I was so conflicted I honestly felt like I was being ripped in half. Finally my husband said he wanted to leave the church. I was a part of a couple ministries within the church, one of which I was very attached to as it allowed me a lot of creative freedom and I had made some very close friendships through. I couldn’t do it. I wanted to leave, I really did, but I literally felt chained to my place. I wouldn’t have phrased it that way then, but I know that’s what it was now. So we kept our mouths shut and stayed at church like good little obedient Christians. He still wanted to leave, and ultimately began going less. Because of my commitments, I needed to be there every week, even though some days, getting up to go to church made me feel like I was suffocating. But surely God would change my heart if I was in the wrong. I begged him to. I tried to adopt old beliefs, but they felt dirty and wrong in a way that made me physically ill. So I began to quietly try to accept I was a Christian who was also a Democrat. The internal war within me raged on. I had so many questions, but I knew better than to ask them. And then 2016 happened. Donald Trump was elected president. And I watched that man espouse racist, harmful, evil things, and I watched as the people I grew up believing and trusting support him. Defend him. Proclaim he was chosen by God. And I felt sick. If that man is what Christians view as a godly man, I wanted no part in Christianity. And I said as much. In an angry post on Facebook the morning after he won the election, I said Trump was not godly. I repeated things he had said. I said you can’t call yourself a Christian and support this man. I got reprimanded by leaders in my church. “You represent the church. You have to be careful what you say,” I was told. “God will take care of us, don’t worry,” others tried to mitigate. I had a family member, someone I trusted and admired with my whole heart- someone I’d gone to for advice countless times- tell me my words were vile. My words. The words challenging a wicked man who made fun of disabled people, and who was sexist and racist and awful... who people falsely believed represented the so-called loving God we were called to follow. Devastated and confused, I took down the post, stayed silent, and continued going to church. But I felt so sick. And that sickness ate at me for the next three years. I wanted to leave, I really did, but I couldn’t. I didn’t know how. It wasn’t like I was being forced to stay, but I felt glued to my spot, paralyzed and helpless. I’d been in church for 20 years. This place had been so helpful, and hopeful.... but it wasn’t that place to me anymore.

How does one turn their back on their home?

During all that, I turned to fiction for comfort. My existential crisis of faith was making me miserable, so I buried myself in stories, art, video games, shows, movies, fanfiction, to help ease the ache. And then, after months of eager anticipation, May 2019 rolled around, and Good Omens was released on Amazon Prime. I still loved the book. Loved Crowley. I couldn’t wait to watch the show. As before, I adored Crowley, but the more the show went on, the more my heart and soul latched onto Aziraphale. Everything he said and did made me want to hug the poor dear, though it wasn’t until episode four that I realized exactly why I felt such strong kinship to the TV version of the angel. Aziraphale and I were both trapped. He was bound by the rules of Heaven and his angelic duties. I was bound by my connection to the church and the ministry I was now in charge of. “If I could just reach the right people...” Aziraphale said desperately to Crowley, who replied: “That won’t happen!” And then, stubbornly, desperately, Aziraphale reaches out the Metatron, and I watched as the hope in an angel’s eyes died as he was told heaven wasn’t going to change, they wanted their war, and he needed to get up there and do his part. That scene resonated so much with me, because in that moment I wasn’t watching a fictional show- I was reliving my own life. The moment I was told my words saying Trump was not a godly man didn’t represent the church. That look on Aziraphale’s face expressed the despair I felt when I realized the church was fundamentally wrong. I was stuck in an institution I didn’t exactly support, but felt bound to stick with even as I grappled with the fact that perhaps they weren’t quite as good as I’d once believed them to be. I’d been questioning for some time, like Crowley had, but like Aziraphale, I was afraid to really do anything about it. I kept hoping that I’d just... come across the right person and they could alleviate my concerns, but... that never happened. I kept believing, like Aziraphale, that Heaven (the church) were the good guys, and this was all just a massive misunderstanding and surely they’d see reason. I mean, they had too. Right?

What encouraged me the most though, was at end of the story, is that Aziraphale eventually does reject heaven for Crowley/earth/humans, and is still an angel. Is still seen as good. His choice is seen as the right one, and he isn’t punished for standing up to his “good” superiors and saying, “No I will not do what you want”. It meant so much to me, to see him walk away from heaven and end up much happier than he’d ever been. It made me hope that I could achieve that same happy ending. It took a few more months of coming to terms with my feelings on everything. But I finally felt that metaphorical bond to the church snap after one Sunday where our pastor mocked a liberal politician and said some other things that made me so upset I stood up and walked out of church. I got home to my husband- my Crowley, who’d been ready to officially leave for years but was too fast for me- and told him I was ready. He asked if I was sure. I said yes. I wanted to leave. The last Sunday of February was my last Sunday at that church. I don’t think I would have had the courage to do it if not for watching Aziraphale’s struggle, his uncertainty, and his ultimate triumph. Knowing how his story ended gave me the hope that once I walked out of that place for the last time, I’ll be able to heal, and I’ll be able to actually do the good I so long to do and be in this world.

I find it funny, looking back. Reading Good Omens gave me the courage to actually question what I’d always been taught. Ten years later, the show gave me the courage to act on those questions. To know that having them isn’t enough. I need to ask them. And then I need to take a stand when the answers aren’t satisfactory.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that the show came out during an extremely important time in my life- when I was trying and failing to find the courage to leave. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that when I needed Aziraphale and Crowley the most, they were there, showing me the way and telling me that it will be alright. I don’t think it’s a coincidence, but I do think it’s a little bit ineffable.

Thank you, Neil and Terry, for creating such amazing characters. Thank you David, for being a brilliant Crowley, and thank you Michael, for being able to convey in a single look how hopeless I’d been feeling for years, essentially snapping me out of my emotional stasis, and giving me the courage to do what needed to be done.

Thank you to the GO fandom, whose stories and art and memes have provided me with a great deal of comfort as I adjust to my new reality.

I love you all. To the world.

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter two

Story summary: Through all the struggles and triumphs of the Noldor, Angrod and Edhellos hold on to their love and their faith in each other.

Despite the title, there is more than romance in this fic.

Length: ~2,000 words; Rating: Teenage audiences

Some keywords for the whole fic: romance, family, some fluff and angst, mild sexual content, the Noldor and their fall and their triumphs, canon compliant

AO3 link (first chapter here)

*

Chapter II //  The high princes of the Noldor

The Noldor advanced ever in skill and knowledge; and the long years were filled with their joyful labours, in which many new things fair and wonderful were devised.’ – The Silmarillion: Of Fëanor and the Unchaining of Melkor

‘Melkor would often walk among them, and amid his fair words others were woven, so subtly that many who heard them believed in recollection that they arose from their own thought. Visions he would conjure in their hearts of the mighty realms that they could have ruled at their own will, in power and freedom in the East[—]

High princes were Fëanor and Fingolfin, the elder sons of Finwë, honoured by all in Aman; but now they grew proud and jealous each of his rights and his possessions.’ – The Silmarillion: Of the Silmarils and the Unrest of the Noldor

Eldalótë has gold dust on her fingers at the end of some work days, and Angaráto washes away soot from his every evening. She is a gilder, he a blacksmith; neither are as fine royal crafts as those that many in the house of Finwë pursue, but they suit Eldalótë and Angaráto well.

Gold leaf is fragile, and painstaking to apply. It is precious and valuable, too, and a mistakes are literally costly.

But the end result is always so beautiful, and once Eldalótë has mastered the techniques, she often falls into an almost trance-like state as she works.

Some of Angaráto’s extended family look down on her craft because she does not herself create the objects she gilds, but she does not mind working on the art of other’s hands. She loves bringing it to a new height of beauty by emphasising all or some of it by a gleaming layer of finest gold.

She only works as a gilder a day or two a week after she marries, but her mother-in-law arranges a worktable for her at a gilders’ workshop in Alqualondë, too, so she doesn’t have to forsake her craft even when she and Angaráto are there.

Angaráto would go mad with work like hers, he tells her. He loves having something to expend some of his strength and energy on.

‘And having to hit metal accurately forces me to focus’, he explains to her when they are young and each apprentices in their respective crafts. 'I have to work myself into the right shape to work the metal.’

She understands then that it is not that different from the state she finds herself falling into when her work goes well though she works with whisper-thin, temperamental gold and he with stubborn iron and steel.

*

'Which came first, your interest in blacksmithing or your epessë, Angamaitë?’ She asks him once, when they are still young and unmarried. Her beloved is nicknamed iron-handed.

She has some strength in her for she is a craftswoman after all, and loves riding her spirited mare far and fast, but nothing like he has his in his arms and his large hands. Some of it is all his own as if an extension of his spirit, and some from learning his craft.

They lie on their backs under a flowering tree in her family’s garden, and the stern and watchful eyes of her grandmother sewing under the next tree.

'The name. Findaráto gave it to me, Angaráto replies. He sneaks a quick touch of his hand to hers in the not-long-enough grass. Eldalótë can feel her grandmother’s disapproving gaze, though there is no scolding yet. 'It gave me the idea to perhaps become a blacksmith. I didn’t have any particular passion from a very small child like some do.’

'Like Findaráto and his passion for shaping stone.’ Eldalótë’s eyes follow a bee busily toiling in the blossoms above them while she remains aware of Angaráto constantly almost-touching her.

'Or cousin Makalaurë and his songs. I heard uncle Fëanáro once say that he sang before he could speak.’ Angaráto snorts. 'Artanis makes all sorts of noises. Some of them could perhaps be counted as singing, I suppose. All of them are too loud.’

'She is a very sweet child’, Eldalótë defends. She stares at the yellow blossoms and dreams of golden-haired babies.

Angaráto snorts again. 'In looks, perhaps. Not otherwise! My parents have their hands full with her. But Aikanáro became a very decent friend once he grew out of babyhood. I dare hope that little sisters do the same.’

*

There are only a few peaceful years following their marriage. As if out of nowhere, but also arising gradually like a weed growing toward the light, the peaceful if driven existence of the Noldor is poisoned by unrest and strife. Arafinwë and Eärwen and all of their children spend even more time among the Falmari than before, preferring the untroubled atmosphere of Alqualondë.

Angaráto and Aikanáro are the only ones in the family who would sometimes prefer to stay and take sides in the debates and arguments. Angaráto has a few heated discussions with his father about it, as heated as anyone can have with Arafinwë. The end result is, every time, that Arafinwë does not force Angaráto to come to Alqualondë but states that he would prefer it. Angaráto always bows to his father’s preference and wisdom eventually, after some grumbling.

(Eldalótë once overhears his father-in-law ask Angaráto, as another prong in his argument, 'Would Eldalótë not also prefer to come to Alqualondë?’

Angaráto admits that probably she does, and in that he is right. Her own family is in Tirion, but they are growing quarrelsome too, asking for her opinions on Fëanáro and Nolofinwë as someone who knows both better than they do. She does not want to take part in those family quarrels, though she is, because of Angaráto’s close friendships, closer to the house of Nolofinwë than Fëanáro.)

She is glad when Angaráto always brings them to Alqualondë in the end. The salty-fresh air, the sheen of pearls and shells all around, the ships coming to harbour in the evening – they come to represent freedom from argument-created anxiety for her.

Even in Alqualondë though, there is no cessation in young Artanis’ ponderings of what the land on the other side of the wide sea is like, and how it would be to rule realms there. Arafinwë and Eärwen look uneasy at this, but Findaráto encourages it.

Artanis asks their grandfather Olwë, once, when Findekáno is visiting with them. Eldalótë is there in Olwë’s hall that night and listens with them as the king of the Falmari describes the starlit land he knew as plagued by danger and hardship.

It doesn’t put out the fire in Artanis and Findekáno’s eyes and, Eldalótë notes with discomfort, her own husband and Aikanáro also lean forward as they listen intently.

*

Their son is born is Alqualondë on a windy night, the curtains in Eldalótë’s bedchamber’s windows fluttering and swaying like the wings of seabirds.

Their child is small enough as newborn that Angaráto can hold him on just one of his large hands. Eldalótë watches, too tired to even speak yet filled with incandescent joy, as father gets to know son. Angaráto appears lost for words. He touches the baby’s tiny fingers, tiny toes, perfect ears, tuft of dark golden hair. Their son stares back at him with unblinking eyes as blue as cornflowers in the heart of summer, or so Eldalótë would describe them if she were writing a poem.

Eldalótë smiles as she falls quietly into rest.

*

Artaresto is the first child of a new generation born into the third house of the Noldor, and he is cherished by all of them. Findaráto adores him even though Artaresto has a particular penchant for Findaráto’s fine, colourful clothes and especially for burping on them. Findaráto only grins and praises him for his evident appetite.

When his older brother once again comes to Eldalótë and Angaráto’s rooms with the flimsy excuse of bringing the baby yet more unnecessary gifts, Angaráto says to him drily, 'You should court your own sweetheart at a pace faster than glacial so you might have little ones of your own to spoil before ours is grown tall.’

'I don’t think I shall’, Findaráto replies as if one half in sleep, or some other vision, even while he tickles Artaresto’s sweet little belly.

Angaráto looks unnerved, and looks at Eldalótë. She can offer him no explanation or consolation. They are both left worried when Findaráto leaves, whistling his way down the corridor.

*

Eldalótë grieves it when Angaráto begins using the strength in his arms and hands and spirit to forge instruments of protection, and of killing too. Of late, every man of means and many of the women, too, seem to be sporting a shield as they go about their business in Tirion, as if it had become a compulsory part of dress. Angaráto and Aikanáro and Findaráto believe that swords are necessary to make and learn to wield as well. She supposes that they must, if there is any danger, and recently a threat seems to be hanging above everyone’s heads.

She gilds the pommels of her husband and Aikanáro’s swords though she finds the new weapons almost as unpleasant as the barely-named threats. There have been no such weapons in Aman ever before: not meant for hunting or sport, but for something else.

Her aversion to violence only strengthens the enchantment of strength and staying that she sings through the fine gold into the unforgiving steel of the swords.

She gilds the device of her father-in-law on their shields too. From the shields’ centre of orange sapphires radiate golden rays of light which she enchants to deflect blows away from her loved ones.

She prays to the Valar whom she, too, doubts of late that the blades and shields will not be needed.

*

One day Angaráto tells her to start practising archery again. She was a keen archer growing up and even won a few competitions, but her bow has lain untouched most of the time since Artaresto was born.

Eldalótë asks him why she should take it up again. 'For the same reason I have forged few things other than swords for a while now’, he replies, face grim.

So she asks Findekáno whether she can join him in his practice, and asks him to help her teach Artaresto too – for Angaráto is not much of an archer, and Findekáno who is his close friend as well as cousin is a famed one. Elenwë and young Idril join them too, and Artaresto enjoys practising together with his cousin on their small bows. Their mothers find it more difficult to enjoy, knowing as they do that the training has possible motives other than competitions or hunting.

One evening after Eldalótë returns from practice Angaráto gives her a pair of daggers, beautiful but so wickedly sharp that she cannot rejoice in them.

'I do not need more weapons as a gift for remastering one’, she tells him.

He buries his face in her hair and she strokes his gently. It is sweaty from his own arms practice.

'Let’s take a bath together’, she suggests.

In their bed she asks him to hold her close and prove to her that his fingers on her skin are as gentle as ever though they forge and wield weapons now whose bright steel gleams with a lethal purpose.

'The world is shifting, I can feel it, and shall never be what it has been’, she says. 'I need to know that you are still here with me, that I can be certain of you if nothing else.’

'Always’, Angaráto swears. 'I am always here and yours.’

He touches and holds and fills her just the way she enjoys, familiar and exciting at the same time. He is as gentle and as rough as she likes, and the only hurt here in their bed is pain which is asked for and intertwined with pleasure.

'You have shining eyes, my flower’, Angaráto rumbles when they lie cooling down side by side looking at each other. 'I dare not ask whether from tears or better feelings.’

'Not all tears are evil.’ She lifts messy strands of hair away from his face; he grasps her wrist and kisses it. 'My tears for you have never been for anything but joy’, she tells him.

*

'We shall have peace for a while’, Eldalótë says to Angaráto, relieved when Fëanáro is exiled from Tirion for breaking the peace of Valinor by drawing a sword on his brother.

'Yet the king, by leaving Tirion with the guilty party, has soured the justice given to my uncle’, Angaráto replies with bitterness. She has never heard him speak of his grandfather so harshly.

Whenever he leaves the house, he still carries his shield. The shield is almost the height of her shoulders, taller than Artaresto, and it has sharp edges.

*

A/N: Next chapter on Sunday.

[multiverseofmiracleshq]

The Avengers held a debriefing meeting to go over Norman Osborn’s announcement about his own Avengers, X-Men and Cabal. Before they were able to find any answers, however, C.R.A.D.L.E. operatives arrived on the scene and demanded  that all underage heroes who were present be turned over.

THIS IS THE OFFICIAL COMPLETE CHAT LOG COVERAGE OF THE IC

CAROL: America’s Avengers — that’s what Norman had called them. Ten costumed clad heroes with masked identities, hidden from public and hidden from them. The last decade had been an opportunity for heroes to gain public trust in a way they never had before. Offering themselves, unmasked, had created a line of trust from hero to layperson. Revealing your identity opened you up to untold threats, and that was before the people you cared about were involved. Carol had never hidden her identity, she hadn’t ever really needed to. Most of her time spent was on a different planet in a separate galaxy and she didn’t have much to protect on earth. People knowing who she was just allowed her to save them in broad daylight and she never really had to think much of it. But then Osborn had stepped into the limelight and floored everyone with his own set of heroes – and Carol was hesitant to call them that. Every bit of information had been pulled on this masked heroes and the database barely offered them crumbs. Super-people running around under Osborn’s authority felt like a power grab instead of a shield, and Carol still didn’t know how to respond to it. At the helm of the table, Carol didn’t say much as people filed, filling their respective seats. She tried not to pay attention to the idle murmuring as it buzzed around her, her thoughts too easily dismantled with her current stress level. This threat was so soon after the war with the mutants and she wasn’t eager to have to face another set of supers. “I would say thank you for coming, but I know most of us don’t want to be here given the recent events. As you all know, President Norman Osborn has revealed a very unorthodox plan to completely level everything we’ve known and built. He has his own set of Avengers, his own intelligence agency, and even his own X-men. He has done this with little regard to the Avengers and the X-men already established and standing, and his dissolution of SHIELD is alarming. Unfortunately, we can only surmise as to what it is he is doing and why — and how he plans on enacting whatever that is. We’re left with more questions than answers, so if anyone has anything to offer, please feel free to share.”

SAM: He didn’t do well in cages. Never had. Sure, there was ancestral trauma that he could talk to his shrink about but the truth of the matter was that Sam Wilson didn’t do well in cages and he didn’t like being locked in. With dislikes like those his career as a pararescuemen made sense, as did the huge emphasis on the freedom that being Cap came with. That being said, he had seen his fair share of bars. There had been the literal ones of the Raft, but Osborn’s new world felt even more constricting. It was terrifying because they were supposed to believe they were free when they were anything but. Sam let Carol talk. He gave her some space while he paced in the back of the room before his arms found a home crossed over his chest. These debriefings never went well. It was like the Sokovian Accords all over again, but this time the ghosts of Tony, Nat and Steve were all too present. He kept scanning the peripheral for a glimpse of red or straining his ears for a sarcastic retort, but they were gone. Whatever was happening they’d go alone. “I think it goes without saying I may not be Norman’s biggest fan,”  Sam piped up from the back wall. “But let’s try not to look at it personally. We’ve done this song and dance before. They may have a harder time touchin’ us, but you guys?” He jutted his head at the minors. “We need to get smart and fast.”

PETER: If there was one thing that Peter valued, it was his privacy– and that was being threatened, big time. Peter glanced over to Sam’s finger as it jutted over in his general direction, the eyes of his suit widening just slightly like he had been accused of something. “I don’t have any ideas.” Yeah, that was definitely worth saying Peter. “Anyone else? Because this really sucks.”

NADIA: Ever since the Coles Incident - which is what they were calling the event where Nadia had potentially lost two of her best friends - she had been doing her best to brainstorm in moderation without  driving herself crazy. “I would say that we try to talk to them, but we did.” That whole hearing had been awful. They had asked questions that weren’t even about what happened, like they could create problems out of nowhere. “I agree with Peter. It sucks.” 10 points for the children being helpful.

IDIE: Idie sat with the other representatives of Krakoa, listening carefully to what Carol was saying. The last few weeks had all felt like a whirlwind – so much was happening so fast. Her eyes wandered round the room as Carol spoke, looking over the familiar faces and the new ones, making a note in her head that these were people she could somewhat trust in these troubled times. She didn’t trust this new world she was living in – even though the people in this room were united against one cause, it was the Krakoa mutants Idie trusted most with her life, and she hoped they trusted her. Her eyes flickered to the new Captain America – who piped up after Carol had finished speaking, and his words resonated with her. He was right. They needed to work harder and smarter than they had before. President Osborn’s new Avenger’s felt like his own personal paramilitary, and she worried how he would use his new X-Men team. “I was a child when I came to the X-Men,” Idie stood up as she spoke, taking a breath as she gathered her thoughts. “I see myself in these young heroes. While they are young, they’re also smart. They are aware of the world around them and its dangers. No one cared that I was a child when my powers mutated, all they saw was a witch who deserved to die.” There was a bitterness in Idie’s tone as she spoke. “What I’m trying to say is, these young heroes are assets, not dangers. With the right training, they can be stronger and smarter heroes. We should be giving them a chance, not turning them away.”

SUSAN: This was, unfortunately, not a new rodeo. The Fantastic Four had always been hyper visible as a group and that had bled into their private life. People who didn’t understand how they operated had tried to have say in their parenting and fighting off CPS while also trying to save the multiverse was exhausting. “Every hero needs responsibility, but I know most of you didn’t choose this. Even if you did, you’re all doing a good thing.  I know C.R.A.D.L.E.  started raids. Is there any kind of sanctuary we can make in the short term?” Susan glanced to her husband and children. “I think we need to be prepared to fight them.”

ERIK: “While I will not argue that the future of our young heroes here is important, there is more to focus on than them. They are more than used to standing up for themselves, no matter their age.” Erik figured that it was his turn to speak now, since there was much to discuss. “The group of mutants parading around under the direction of the President have broken away from the ideas we on Krakoa hold sacred. They threaten the incredible amount of work, blood, tears, and pain we have suffered through to get to where we are now.”

VALERIA: Valeria sat quietly, listening to the other heroes speak. A lot was going on in the room, and a lot of different opinions were being said – it was going to be a difficult night ahead. “My mom is right,” Valeria spoke. “We can fight as well as any of you in this room, but C.R.A.D.L.E. poses a risk to our lives. To our futures. If we are to be put in a sanctuary, we should be prepared to fight. Give us training, don’t put us in a corner and leave us be. That will only end badly.”

JEAN: The announcement of ‘America’s X-Men’ had sounded wrong from the moment she had heard it. Sitting with her son swaddled against her, Jean nodded along lightly as Erik spoke. It was strange. Her own younger self technically fell outside of the law now. “As does his Cabal. Whatever deal he and Emma made is not reflective of the Quiet Council or Krakoa. Kate,” the redhead glanced towards Pryde. “You’re Hellfire. Was that planned?” It stung, a bit. Jean and Emma had grown closer and her decision to drag Krakoa into Osborn’s circle was made without warning. Out of respect the telepath had stayed out of her mind, but the situation had become icy.

IDIE:  Idie nodded as Erik spoke. She could have laughed at the fact she found herself agreeing with Magneto of all people (perhaps Quentin had been right all these years, although she would not be admitting that to him. “For some of us, Krakoa is the only home we’ve ever known. This X-Men group threatens to take it away from us.” She glanced at Jean, an eyebrow raised at her comment. “Ms. Grey, I don’t think now is the time for fighting between us. We need to be united.”

GWEN: “I don’t even live here,” Gwen was slouched over with her head in her hands, “but they’ve made it pretty clear I’m at risk as well when I’m here.” Her identity in Earth-13130 remained a secret to the general public even though at the meeting her hood had been pulled back to rest against her neck. She didn’t just want to ignore people in trouble though if she saw them. “Val’s right. Fighting is our best option. They can’t push us around just because we’re younger.”

VALERIA: A smirk crept across Val’s face as Gwen said she was right. “We may be young but we made a commitment to be who we are, if we didn’t we wouldn’t be sitting in this room discussing it.” She rested a comforting hand on Gwen’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “It’s our choice, isn’t it? We chose this life. We want to fight this, and if you put us somewhere for our own protection without giving us the tools to fight and protect ourselves, you might as well let C.R.A.D.L.E. find us, capture us, and do God only knows what to us.”

PETER: “We can fight, but what’s that really gonna do?” Peter spoke up again. “If we fight them.. isn’t that just going to make them want all of these rules even more? It’s true that we can stand up for ourselves, but I don’t know if there’s a way to actually get them to stop.”

ILLYANA: “Who said anything about fighting?” Blue eyes were trained on black painted nails. It was ridiculous that she fell under the rule considering her history. Illyana’s words were directed at Idie though, not any of the other people who had actually discussed fighting. “I don’t think Jean did, but the blonde with the big brain - that was Val - seems interested.” Illyana was too.

KATE: Reclining back as far as her chair would reach, Kate had been fiddling with the edge of her coat as people spoke around her. Osborn’s sudden resurgence into society along with his reveal of his shiny new squad didn’t sit well with her. And as Kate understood, it didn’t sit well with anyone. It took a moment for her to register that Jean had addressed her and she automatically wanted to respond with a ‘what’, but Jean’s words managed to sink in before she did. Dark eyes shifted around the room, not really focusing on anyone, before coming to land back on Jean. “You’re asking the wrong person. I wouldn’t work with Norman if you paid me, but considering the affairs of the Hellfire Club, I can only assume there is something to gain. Emma wouldn’t do it otherwise.”

REED: “I see where everyone is coming from, but it’s never as simple as we want it to be.” Reed replied to both his daughter and the rest of the group. “Putting the kids together and making sure they’re safe sounds logical at first, but is it really smart to put all of them together? If something were to happen, they make an easy target that way.”

JESSICA: “Mutants, underaged heroes,” Jessica ticked off the issues on one hand. “the fact that we don’t know who these heroes are. Should we try and pick a topic or do we like bouncing around?” She opposed everything on the grounds that it felt wrong and S.H.I.E.L.D.,  while imperfect, was often more good than bad. Now a mother herself of a kid with super powers, Jessica hated the unease that came with considering this version of the future. “Did literally anyone see this coming?”

IDIE: “All I meant was that we can’t be seen at each other’s throats.” Idie turned to Illyana. “It would only give people reason to support Osborn’s X-Men, and I think we can agree that is the last thing we want.” Her eye glanced over at the underaged heroes for a moment, spotting the blonde Illyana had spoken about, then turned back to the other mutant. “Fighting whatever Osborn is up to. If we want to stand against it, we need to stand together.”

VALERIA: “We’re stronger together than we are apart, Dad.” Valeria stared at her dad, her eyes wide. “We need each other right now. We can protect each other. We aren’t just a group of dumb kids, Dad. We have powers, just like the rest of you.”

JEAN: Deciding to ignore both Illyana and Idie, Jean kept her gaze on Kate. She’d always have a soft spot for her and her inability to get on Krakoa meant that the two didn’t see each other near enough. Part of that was on her, of course, but with the baby and the Council one thing often turned into the next and suddenly a week had gone by. “If Emma had talked to anyone it would have been you, Kate, or Scott.” Her glance didn’t flicker over to the husband who sat beside her. “This Cabal is international. Do we know anything else about it?”

SUSAN: “Of course you aren’t, dear.” Susan’s tone was more patient than patronizing. Valeria was one of the smartest there was. “We just need to be strategic and delicate here. They’re looking for another incident like what happened with Ms. Marvel. You’re all out of grace and chances.”

PETER: “My paranoia saw this coming.” Peter’s reply to Jess was meant to be quieter than it ended up being. “And still, I have no idea what to do other than just.. not register. But I’m not ready for the whole city or-or the whole world to hate me or think I’m the bad guy.”

XANDRA: Her goal had been to remain as innocuous as possible. Although she preferred not to, Xandra had slipped from her chamber and left an illusion in her place. It had taken a great deal of concentration to maintain her own physical camouflage but as soon as she arrived on the premise she allowed that to fall. “My aunt betrayed me.” Feathers ruffled around her face as she spoke. “Which knowing Deathbird should not be a surprise.” And yet, it was. Xandra had truly hoped for the best. “She joined your President’s Cabal without my approval. Her vote does not represent the Shi’ar people.”

SAM: “Sometimes they’re gonna think you’re the bad guy. It’s inevitable when we’re the ones doing the hard stuff people don’t want to deal with.” Sam knew that unfortunately too well. “We fight, we look bad. We don’t and we end up screwed. We’re just all in agreeance that we don’t know enough yet about what’s going on.”  

VALERIA: Val slouched back in her seat, running a hand through her hair as she thought. She was a child to most of these people, it didn’t matter how smart she was, or what she thought. Peter’s remark made her scoff as she held back a laugh. “Separating us and putting us in safe houses where we will feel useless will give them another Ms. Marvel incident,” Valeria tried to be patient, but it felt like her words were falling on deaf ears.

NADIA: “Can we please stop calling it that?”  Nadia’s voice was quiet. She loved Kamala. The two had been close ever since Kamala had tried to help Nadia get her citizenship set up. Hearing all the terrible things the world was saying about Ms. Marvel in Kamala’s name made her sick. There was no way she’d stand behind any of it. “She’s my friend.”

KATE: "I didn’t say we hadn’t talked.“ Kate responded cooly. They had talked. Kate had outright confronted her, but Emma had brushed it off. No big deal. The excuses given to her were easy enough to accept if you wanted to, but Kate didn’t trust Norman, so she didn’t trust that Emma was telling her the whole story. "I just assume Emma has her reasons and I don’t demand people to give me information. I trust her.” Half of that was true. Kate did trust Emma, but she didn’t know how much of a hand Norman had in this.

PETER: Underneath the mask, Peter’s face burned a light red. Sam was right, but that didn’t mean he was going to admit it. He could stay stubborn, clinging to his idealism for as long as he could. “We keep talking about another incident, but that’s the worst case scenario right? It’s not Kamala’s fault.” He glanced to Nadia, expression soft even if it wasn’t easy to read under his mask. “It’s not our fault at all. It’s Norman’s. There’s gotta be something we can do before it’s too late.”

SCOTT:  He’d chosen to remain quiet on the issue thus far. A team of mutants with Madelyne on it already gave him everything he needed to know about Osborn’s intentions, and he didn’t need to chew on it to get the point across. This had threat written all over it — he just couldn’t figure out why Emma would work with him. He almost considered that she was defaulting to who they had used to be, but Scott knew that even if she was, this was not the route to take. “She hasn’t talked to me.” He responded to Jean before Kate had the chance, his tone level. “This is all still fairly new.”

JEAN: It hadn’t really been accusatory, but Jean still needed to make sure everyone knew that Scott wasn’t involved with what Emma was doing. Jean didn’t want to turn people against  Frost but they needed to be clear on where everyone stood. “Emma joined the Cabal and we had no idea. Your aunt,” she turned to Xandra. “Did so without your permission. And then there’s Loki and Maximus. Did the Asgardians and Inhumans know?”

ODINSON: “Loki’s schemes are never ending.” Odinson replied with an eyeroll. “It’s difficult to guess their intentions, but I am not surprised by where they ended up. If teams like this were to be formed, Loki would be drawn to it all like an insect to a flame.”

CRYSTALIA: Even though it may have surprised most, Crystalia had stayed mostly quiet throughout this. New Attilan was almost exempt from the problem but her connection to the Nuhumans and Kamala Khan made it her problem. “My cousin is a snake in the grass.” Prior fondness was dulled by years of backstabbing. Lockjaw was panting in the corner, his massive head nearly in the doorway. “The Inhumans have struggled enough without him causing trouble.”

SAM: “We’re going to figure it out, kid. I promise. There’s no way in hell we’re going to let you guys go down here. But we gotta ask ourselves: who are these people and how did Norman recruit them without us knowing?”

CAROL: "Are we really surprised he did?“ Her question was directed at Sam’s. "He doesn’t exactly strike me as all that forthright. If anything, this is expected. You gather a set of heroes who will follow you and you have a perfect war machine.”

VALKYRIE: “Well, one of them is a two faced wench with a preference for green.” Val was leaned forward in her chair, one tattooed forearm braced against the table. “The Enchantress. Amora has never spelled anything but trouble.”

THOR: “And the Minotaur.” Thor piggybacked off of Val. “I knoweth him, unfortunately. His name is Dario Agger. He runs Roxxon and his bloodlust is… unfortunate, to say the least.”

SAM: “Surprised? No. Disappointed? Yes. There should only be one War Machine, and that’s Rhodes. Taking up the Iron Patriot without saying anything was meant to be disrespectful. What about Star? Wanda, you said you got a reality stone reading off of her. You, Vis and Carol know the Stones pretty well. Do we know her deal?”

KATE: “Look I could be wrong,” Kate had leaned forward at this point, interjecting between Sam’s and Carol’s conversation. “But I think I talked to her. Star, I mean.”

WANDA: “You did?” Wanda turned her attention to Kate, speaking for the first time. She had spent the night picking up on different energies but had turned a blind eye due to how caught up in the Vision she had been. Now, she was regretting her decision. “I admit that I didn’t look close enough. Who was she?”

KATE: “She actually came with you, I think.” Kate said, subtly pointing towards Carol. “God, all I can picture is the atrocious pink dress. In a gala like that, you’d expect opulence or at least something formal. Not mid 2000’s Barbie dreamhouse. I didn’t catch her name, but something about her was off. Like Norman Osborn off.”

JEAN: “Kate,” Jean shifted so she could pass (baby) Charles to Scott. “Would you mind if I entered your mind for a moment to pull the name and face out?”

SAM: “You brought an American Avenger as your date, Danvers?” Sam’s brow rose. He couldn’t place her face. It was a bland blonde mix. He hadn’t been there long at all. Mostly a quick stop in and then bail to try and get home to rest.

KATE: For a long moment, Kate just stared at Jean, her features blank. She didn’t want to give anything away in the moment, but she wasn’t comfortable being in her own head, let alone letting someone else navigate around there. But she’d offered this tidbit of information, so maybe she should see this the whole way through. “If you think it’s necessary.”

JEAN: Thank you for trusting me. Jean’s words were spoken so only Kate could hear. Her eyes turned pink as she carefully dived into Kitty’s mind, dancing around anything intimate to find her way to the night in question. It took a moment to bring a blurry memory to focus, but then “—I thought I said I didn’t want to know your name.” Jean spoke along with the memory as the blonde rose from her barstool and began to back away. “Ripley.” The light died down then and Jean let the image of ‘Ripley’ be projected towards the others. “Do we know who she is or why she has a reality stone?”

CAROL:  She had suspected that Ripley was who Kate was referring to, but Carol hadn’t been struck with the same vibe. “She’s just a reporter.” She said in slight defense. “Are you sure you think it’s her?”

JESSICA: “Jesus Christ.” Jess shook her head, looking to Carol in disbelief. She should have put it together and felt stupid for not doing so, but Jess hadn’t even attended the Gala or seen who Carol had brought with her. “That ‘reporter’ is a psycho bitch. Ripley Ryan. Star. She’s from my reality.” As in, Earth-616. “She had a major bone to pick with you, Carol. Went as far as being experimented on to get back at you. You both almost died, but she was carted off to the Raft. I haven’t been home since then. I had no idea she’d gotten a Stone or came here.”

CAROL: Carol’s eyes shifted quickly, meeting Jess’s. Behind her gaze, there was a twinge of surprise but she did her best to keep her reaction neutral. “And you’re sure.” She didn’t doubt Jess, she hadn’t even known why she bothered asking, but a part of her wanted to believe in the girl. Carol always felt she had great instincts, and to have something be so carefully hidden right before her eyes was a hard pill to swallow. “She does realize that I’m not from her reality.”

GWEN: She had forgot to turn it off. Flipping your phone to mute seemed like a pretty simple thing to remember if you were going to very respectable Avengers meetings, especially when you lived in another reality and your dad couldn’t even contact you on this emergency line. Her phone was so often ignored that she was surprised when it began to trill that awful sound usually reserved only for Amber Alerts. She quickly fumbled with the device, about to turn it off until she caught sight of the picture that had come with the headline. Suddenly, Carol’s murderous girlfriend or whatever was way less important. Nadia and Lana’s phones  went off as well, and Gwen quickly tried to read and reread what had been sent out. “–uh, guys??”

PETER: Peter knew something was off even before Gwen reacted. He watched her reach for her phone but ignored his own that vibrated on the surface in front of him. The anxiety made him freeze, but as Gwen’s eyes stayed glued to her phone he knew he had to see for himself. He reached for his own, clicked it on, and there it was. It took longer than it should have for it to all sink in. What was in reality only a few seconds felt like minutes to him, and suddenly he became hyper aware of everyone focusing in on him. “What?” Maybe his eyes were tricking him? He felt his heart begin to race and heard it echo in his ears. This wasn’t really happening, was it? That was.. him. Right smack in the middle of his screen– and everyone else’s for that matter. It was out. Someone must have been following him, or someone here maybe sold him out.. or– “No, no no no no–!” Everything went cold, and his hands began to shake. His phone would have dropped out of his grasp if he hadn’t held on to it just a bit too tight, causing the screen to splinter at the edges. Right now he was surrounded and it felt like he was in a cage. Vulnerable. Exposed. Terrified. Betrayed. Peter Parker is Spider-Man. And there was no taking it back. Even though they had all just been discussing the future of people like him, suddenly Peter didn’t trust a single one of them. But his brain was in a fog– rage, confusion, terror. He couldn’t get himself to move, but he was at least thankful he had his mask on so no one could see the few tears trailing down his cheeks. “–what am I supposed to do now?” His voice was barely at a whisper.

JESSICA: Well, shit. That had taken the meeting in a way no one had expected. Jessica had to fish her phone out of her bag to see what everyone was staring at. Once she did she almost wished that she hadn’t. Maybe it was her unearthed motherly instinct, but she was quickly on her feet and moving around the table to crouch beside Parker. “Hey, kid,” her voice was low, dark head bent towards him. “Right now? Take deep breaths.”

LANA: “What the actual @#$@#. So they’re just going to out people and endanger them now?” Lana’s hands were curled into fists. She had never had a secret identity in the traditional sense. If the government wanted her they’d likely be able to find her unless she was on Krakoa. “We have to @#$@# do something.”

CAROL: Interesting how the world had just been introduced to a series of masked crusaders and one of their very own had just been forced to reveal who he was. Choosing to stay back, Carol observed the panic and frustration, understanding both but reacting to neither. Turning to Sam, she tried to catch his attention with a soft tone. “Convenient timing, wouldn’t you say?”

SAM: “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is.” Sam couldn’t keep the anger out of his voice. Peter was a good kid. If someone wanted to out themselves it was fine, but a public callout wasn’t. “This is the kind of game we’re going to be playing. I hate to say it, but we won’t have time to sit back. They’re going to come straight at us.”

PETER: The grip he had around his phone tightened more and he could hear the quiet cascade of cracking glass from underneath his fingers. Peter was breathing. But it was definitely not deep breaths. The skin-tight red fabric around his chest rose and fell heavily as he sat there fuming, and he eventually got to his feet. ”I’m breathing just fine!” His voice wasn’t at a whisper anymore, and as he turned away from Jess he slammed a fist against the table. For a split second his mind wandered to Aunt May. How long would it take for her to hear the news and call him? What was he going to say to her? Was it even safe for him to go home? The equal levels of fear and anger had shifted as the seconds ticked by, and Peter found himself seeing red. His empty hand rose up and ripped off his mask, and he closed his eyes as the cool air hit his skin. “What’s the point of this anymore?” The fistful of red he had just pulled off was promptly thrown harshly to his feet, where it stayed and he stared at it. “Who did this to me? Why me? Why now?”

CAROL: She hated how right he was. A tic in the back of her jaw worked as she watched Peter, choosing to keep her personal emotions to herself. There was no reason to amplify the stress in the room. “Then we take the fight to them. Look, I don’t know how the Avengers were run before, but we’re not going to wait until they drop a bomb on New York to react. If Norman wants a war, I say we give him one.”

SAM: “We miscalculate this and we could be over. Osborn doesn’t need much to spin things against us. Whatever we do, we do it right.” If Steve were here he would have told him whatever it takes. But once again, he wasn’t. “If you have a secret identity, you may want to consider telling your loved ones.” Sam addressed the group. “Or if you can’t, let us know and we’ll find away to keep them safe. I’m sorry, Peter, really, but this isn’t about you. Osborn’s making an example out of you and it’s a real piece of shit thing to do. This has got to be our wake up call, guys. Things can turn and fast.”

JESSICA: Jess didn’t flinch as Peter lashed out. Had it been her she would have done worse, green energy tearing holes in everything around her. For a long time she had wrestled with the  fact that she had almost never had a secret identity. She longed for anonymity but was also grateful to avoid things like this. “Norman Osborn is not a good guy where I come from. We can talk about it later, if you want.” As much as Jess tried to keep reality separate it couldn’t be avoided tonight. She and Peter B. had decided long ago that some things should be kept secret. Not lied about, per se, but what happened to Peter B.’s Gwen had never been something this Peter needed to bear. With everything happening now some truths may have been inevitable.  Catching Gwen’s eye over his shoulder, Jess gave her a look before rising and facing Carol and Steve to listen in on their conversation.

GWEN: Gwen wasn’t really sure why she was being passed the baton, but she did know being a teenaged spider person sucked.  She had seen frustration and fear in her Peter and it scared her to see it again, but she did the best to shake the feeling off. Webbing quickly shot the mask into her hands, and Gwen placed it in front of him once more. “The point of this is that you get out there and help people. Your mask is your badge, even if you don’t need to wear it. I think you need some air, Peter.”

PETER: “Well it definitely feels like it’s about me! That’s my face on your phone! Who knows how many people have seen this.” Finally Peter loosened the grip on his phone and let it drop back to the table with a thud. He didn’t want to believe that Norman would do something like this, not something so personal. The harder he tried to ignore that horrible feeling deep in his gut, the worse it got. He took a long glance at Jess as she moved away, not offering her up either a yes or no– but filing away the invitation for later. As Gwen moved closer he fought hard against his urge to move away before she reached him. It would have been so easy to tell her to leave him alone. But he stayed. He let her grab hold of his mask and through the mess of brown curls covering his eyes, he found himself unable to look away as she held it out to him. His lungs were still taking in harsh shallow breaths. He was still angry. But she was right– he needed some air. ”–fine. Peter picked up his phone and turned to head out of the room without grabbing his mask, and without bothering to see if Gwen would follow him. It was hard to tell if he wanted to be alone right now or not. The feelings of loneliness and being completely stifled were too hard to separate. Every feeling was, truthfully.

H.A.M.M.E.R: It started with the peeling of an alarm. Some kind of sirens were blaring and then there was the pounding of boots that never heralded anything good. We’re here under the authorization of C.R.A.D.L.E. in regards to S.315,  the Underage Superhuman Welfare Act, an amplified voice accompanied the sound of the door being ripped open before H.A.M.M.E.R. agents inundated the room. “This is Carolina Washington, C.R.A.D.L.E. officer.” A woman shouldered her way to the front with her weapon raised. “We were made aware that underaged heroes who have not yet complied with the law were converging here. We need to bring them in to register. Please, let’s do this the easy way.”

CAROL: Carol jumped to her feet so quickly that her chair kicked out from under her and landed cockeyed on the floor. The alarm blared in her ears, a torrent of sound that was as startling as it was telling. She didn’t bother paying mind to the introduction; when a gun was raised at her, she didn’t quite care for formalities. “I think the time for doing things the right way has passed, Sam.” Carol tossed over her shoulder.

PETER: Peter made it about two steps before he sensed it. Eyes that were once glued to the floor shot up and landed on the doors just before they were slashed open. He glanced back to the rest of the group, to his friends and the people his age that they were here for. It only took a moment for Peter’s face to harder with resolve, and now he was going to the right (or maybe very stupid) thing. Once he turned back around he shot out webbing and swung himself to the center of the room to place himself in front of the CRADLE officers. “Yeah? Well I’m Peter Parker– but I guess you already knew that didn’t you?” He held out his arms wide out at his sides, almost inviting them to come at him. “I would say that it’s nice to meet you Carolina, but it’s really not. So why don’t you just get outta here, and leave my friends alone. I’m in a really crappy mood.”

H.A.M.M.E.R.: “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker.” Carolina replied coolly, one hand signaling her men. “I thought your face looked familiar.” They had brought collars, already prepped and warned by the telepath they were working with on what to expect. It had been a precaution to bring back-up with them, Star of the American Avengers and the Goblin Queen of the American X-Men as back-up. “You and your friends are going to follow the law now and come with us.”

RIPLEY: Carol was here, but Ripley didn’t really feel like saying hi. The hot brunette from the bar was as well but this was business and needed to be treated as such. “Collar.” The word left bored lips as the newly minted Avenger pointed towards a female mutant in a ridiculous coat, a collar solidifying around her throat a second later. “Next?”

PETER: “Yeah, that’s me. Don’t worry, I won’t be offended if you didn’t set that picture of me as your lockscreen.” He took one more determined step closer and then criss-crossed his arms, each hand aiming at the guns closest to him to send webbing flying towards them. It sealed the ends of the barrels. He didn’t dare look behind him, but he hoped this was giving them all enough time to find another way out. “We aren’t going anywhere.”

ILLYANA: Oh, she was so not into this. “C’mon, you. Time to go.” Illyana took a step closer to Scott and Jean, her overall purpose there to make sure they could get the baby back unharmed. There was a flash of light before she dipped and took the Grey-Summers family with her.

LANA: “@#$@#.” Gloved hands clawed at Lana’s throat. “Seriously? Me first?” She looked to Nate as if he had some way to remove a collar.

KATE: No, they weren’t. Phasing through the floor, Kate maneuvered until she was just beneath one of the agents, reemerging with enough force that she knocked his weapon from his hand and took it into her own. Aiming it at Carolina, she tightened her finger on the trigger. “You brought a gun to a mutant fight; I’m not really sure how you planned on winning this one.”

RIPLEY: “With a little extra firepower.” Ripley moved fast enough to materialize behind Kate, crimson eyes trained on the gun.  “That gun doesn’t work.” The red in her chest flared up in a  moment of red intensity before a smile settled over her lips.

GWEN: Her body rippled as the black of her suit overtook the white, pink threading down the material. “Love the energy Pete, really, but maybe less angst and more focus?” Her symbiote always whispered louder in her ear when she let it manifest like that but they weren’t going to rip anyone in half tonight. “Maybe we need to go somewhere as in away from here and their guns.”

CABLE: Nate’s first instinct was to grab his gun and aim it right at the person who put the color on Lana. His second instinct was to try and get the collar off of her. And his second instinct won. He quickly grabbed her and teleported the two of them into the farthest corner of the room, then immediately dove into trying to find a way to help her– even though he already knew that there wasn’t. “I can’t–” Nate didn’t finish his sentence, both hands on the device at her throat as he looked back towards the rest of the action. “I’m sorry.” He was scared– for both her and himself. Getting collared meant that he would be helpless to save himself against the metal clawing his way through his body.

KATE: With an annoyed cock to her brow, Kate pulled the trigger just for good measure and lo and behold, a string of bubbles came out of the chamber. Not exactly the kickback she was looking for. With a frustrated grunt, Kate shifted her grip on the gun and spun, aiming to knock Ripley right in the mouth with it.

LANA: “Oh, @#$@# this. You have to go.” Lana forced herself to say words she really didn’t want to. She knew about his stupid sickness and what it did. “I’ve done this bullshit before. I’m going to be fine.” Because she was an incurable dumbass she fired off one test shot but the hot flash of pain nearly made her vision go black. There was no way she’d be able to get it off of herself. “Please don’t apologize. We’ve already died together once and I’m really @#$@# over this whole thing. So, go.”

CABLE: “I–” Nate cringed when she tried to get the collar off. He shouldn’t have to leave her like this. Frustration took over and his metal hand clenched into a fist before he punched the wall closest to him, leaving a noticeable dent. “Shit. Don’t do anything too stupid, alright?” He forced himself to take in a deep breath and then planted a kiss on her lips before backing away. “I’ll see you soon.” Nate took one last look at her and then activated the device on his wrist, disappearing in a flash of blue light.

RIPLEY: As the gun connected with her face Ripley frowned slightly, grateful she had already protected herself earlier. “Okay, first off, no thank you.” She grabbed Kate’s wrist, twisting it so she could throw the woman backwards towards the wall. Was she powerful? Sure. New to all of  this? To an extent. Her only main fight had been Carol  and everyone knew how that had ended. “I liked you better when you weren’t trying to be a hero.” She hissed, stepping back to survey the room. There was a flash of blue as someone teleported away. Gaze settling on the person left behind, Ripley shook her head. “Time to go to sleep.” The body hitting the ground meant she could move onto the next fighting hero.

PETER: “You go then!” Peter shouted back to Gwen as he webbed two more guns and yanked them out of the officers’ grip. “They already know who I am. This way everyone else has a chance to get out.”

CAROL: The hole the wall made when Kate collided with it suggested that Ripley was more overpowered than Carol originally thought. Honestly, she was surprised Kate didn’t go right through it, either phasing or not. Redirecting her focus, Carol allowed her powers to ignite, illuminating her palms as she aimed the energy blasts straight for Ripley, not bothered by the guards she’d have to go through to get to her. There was a bit of a personal vendetta there, her anger at a lower simmer. “Now’s probably a great time to get out of here.” She tossed at Sam. If it ended up just being the two of them, then so be it.

GWEN: “Oh shut up. I’m not going to leave you.” Not again, her mind filled in. She couldn’t let down yet another Peter Parker. Her dad was completely and totally going to murder her when he found out what was going on. Her suit was moving alongside her webbing but the emission of a high pitched buzz drove her to her knees as the symbiote squirmed and tried to separate from her.

SAM: Shields didn’t work very well in confirmed spaces and Sam couldn’t use it without potentially taking out an ally as well. “I always say no man left behind and these are kids.” That being said, they weren’t looking good. One was already being dragged out collared and unconscious  and the last thing they needed was for anyone else to get hurt. “Any last ditch plans, Cap?”

RIPLEY: Now that one hurt. Ripley’s mouth was tugged into frown as she glared at Carol, pulling herself to her feet. The C.R.A.DL.E. agents were already removing some of the minors but this pointless violence was tiring. “The best thing you can do is let them come with us. They’re safer in a holding cell registering than here where an accident can happen.” To emphasize her point an agent cranked up the volume on the buzz device. “Can we end this now?”

CAROL: Lowering her first, Carol let the charge in her arm die down a bit as Ripley stood back up. She all but shook it off and as Carol’s eyes scanned the room, she almost felt like her desire to push Ripley back was only going to compromise the people around her. And not to mention the building itself. They weren’t outside, they weren’t even in a very large room. As much as she wanted to unload on her, Carol damped the power and shot at Ripley again. Nothing debilitating, but until she focused on her, Carol was going to keep shooting at her. “Leave us and take as many kids as you can. If I can keep her occupied, she can’t control the kids. I don’t know if there’s another option here.”

PETER: Dammit, Gwen. Peter kept his jaw clenched painfully shut to make sure he didn’t snap at her. This was his fight. He was hit hard and he wanted to hit back– and it was better to do that alone. But his anger-fueled adrenaline was beginning to die down, and as it did the rest of the room came into focus. Carol’s blast caught his attention and suddenly, he realized just how stupid this idea of his had been. He wasn’t going to win this one, not without causing more harm than good. He opened his mouth to reply to Gwen when the same high-pitched sound hit him, and he instinctively slammed both hands over his ears to try and block it out. ”No!” She fell to her knees and all Peter could do was watch her and her symbiote struggle. He couldn’t let anything happen to her. “Alright, stop! Stop it! I won’t fight you, just– turn it off!”

RIPLEY: “Would you - knock - it- off??” Ripley raised her voice more than she had before. “Your shots are bouncing back.” Exasperation lined her tone. One day she’d need to learn to rewrite reality without literally having to telegraph what she was planning on doing verbally. “There! That’s the spirit. Let’s all be more like Peter.”

H.A.M.M.E.R: “I’m sorry, Captain, but he won’t be leaving with any of the children. We’re here under direct orders from the United States government.” Carolina said. A gloved agent knelt down to put a collar on the symbiote clothed teenager before another roughly grabbed another underaged hero. “Believe it or not, this is the best course of action for everyone. As an official Commander under C.R.A.D.L.E. I, Carolina Washington, hereby issue the arrests of Peter Parker, Gwendolyne Stacy, Gwendolyn Poole, Nadia Van Dyne, Laura Kinney, Lana Baumgartner and Jean Grey for failure to comply with S.315,  the Underage Superhuman Welfare Act. You will not be read your rights but will be given a full list of legal requirements upon arrival at our facilities. Any further attempts of violence will result in extended consequences. Do we have any other questions?”

GWEN: The sound was gone but they had put a collar on her. Gwen had no powers of her own anymore. Whatever they clamped around her neck was emitting some kind of frequency that stopped the symbiote from being able to compose itself. A few spiders wandered off of her, creeping down across the floor. “Do not be like Peter.” She moaned despite her cotton mouth. As in, Peter go.

SAM: This was a fresh layer of bullshit if they thought that they could waltz in, bang up some kids and then just cart them off to god knows where to do things on their terms. “Some of  these heroes aren’t American, they’re Krakoan. And Empress Neramani isn’t from Earth at all. You better watch what you guys are walking into.”

H.A.M.M.E.R.: “We know exactly what we’re walking into. The law states that any underaged hero operating on American soil is liable and able to be tried. These mutants were born American citizens. They’re under our jurisdiction. But thank you for reminding me of Empress Neramani.” Her gaze drifted over to the feathered Shi’ar. “We have received express permission from Cal’syee Neramani to take Xandra into custody as she is both half mutant and also far underage.” Family politics were messy, but Carolina just followed orders. She was a clean-up specialist, after all. “Your resistance will be noted and recorded.”

CAROL: The glow she was emitting didn’t die down this time as Carol approached Carolina, getting right up in her face. In the corner of her eye, she kept Ridley in sight, ready to send her supercharged ass flying if she had to. “You can take your Act and shove it up your ass for all I care. If you’re going to take these kids, you’re going to have to arrest me too, because I’m not letting you leave with them.”

RIPLEY: Theatrics. That’s all superheroes were. Theatrical little bitches who thought the Earth  orbited around them. Ripley could get into her hatred of Carol Danvers and all she stood for, but at that moment there was more to focus on. The Stone was twitching in her chest and her head snapped to the side to see the Scarlet Witch with magic glowing around her fingers. Could Wanda kick Ripley’s ass? Definitely. Did Ripley get the element of surprise? Definitely. One  word and the brunette went down and the blonde prayed they’d leave before she got back up. With her attention returned to Carol, two words were spoken under her breath before lasers erupted from her eyes and clipped Carol in the temple.

CAROL: If Carolina even made a move, Carol was going to put her fist through her chest. It was impossible not to be seething, to watch the kids, who were barely old enough to even have mastered their abilities, be taken into custody for them. She didn’t battle Thanos or the X-men just for people to be robbed of their freedom, especially not by those who Carol knew were more than eager to weaponize them. Or something worse. In a split moment of distraction, Carol took her focus off of Ripley just in time for her to knock her with a laser blast, forcing her off her planted stance. As she fought to regain her footing, all the energy Carol had been carefully suppressing erupted, engulfing her in one fell swoop. Without thinking, without taking it into care, Carol just shot a mega beam right back at her, her emotions getting the better of her.

PETER: This.. definitely didn’t go as he had wanted it to. Even though the sound wasn’t nearly as devastating to him as it was to Gwen and her suit, it had slowed him down enough that they slipped the collar on her without him being able to stop them. It shifted to a low hum that he was sure was still loud to her, and once he refocused he felt his stomach twist into knots. He looked to her with disbelief and panic as he realized that they were losing. He didn’t want to leave them. Even though he was scared, he was stubborn and defiant and pissed off. But there were other heroes here that were sticking their neck out for them, and because of that.. maybe it was wrong to simply let himself get taken. His mind was full of paradoxes. But Carol was doing a nice job distracting them, which was exactly what he needed right now. “Sorry–” He mumbled a pained last word to Gwen and then took off, aiming for the ceiling to swing over and kick one of the officers down to make an opening for himself. He easily broke the glass on the closest window and then flung through it, not looking back.

ERIK: If there was one thing Erik hadn’t expected to see, it was Wanda being taken down. His daughter was a force to be reckoned with, but this whole situation was new and strange and tonight wasn’t the time to get into what made sense or not. He quickly made his way over to her, ready to fight back if he was met with any resistance as he gently scooped her off the ground. Neither of them were the targets right now, and he was thankful for that as he got them out to head back to Krakoa.

RIPLEY: “Jesus fucking —” the blast from Carol was strong enough to send Ripley tumbling head over heels through the wall. It was yet another reason to despise Carol Danvers even though she had far too many already. For a moment she just laid on the ground spitting out chunks of plaster. She could hear Carolina running her fat mouth and some glass was broken.  Despite the suit and ability to rewrite reality she was new to this. Being some fake ass Avenger wouldn’t change that. Her bones cried out in protest as she pulled herself to her feet, already commanding herself to heal. “You know,” Ripley staggered back into the main room as she  wiped some blood off of her face with one arm. “I really want to kill you. Like really, really want to but they said no. Our rematch can wait for another day. So here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going down. Hard. And when you wake up you’re going to have a nasty headache. Sweet dreams, bitch.” Whatever cosmic power fueled her words took its toll before Ripley straightened and shoved a few locks of hair out of her eyes. “Wrap this up, Washington. Now.”

KATE: The force that Ripley had used to shove Kate back and into the nearest wall had come too fast and too hard and she hadn’t been able to will her body to phase through it in time. Though Kate didn’t know how it would matter — she would’ve either skidded on the floor outside or smacked into another wall. The impact had been powerful enough that it had knocked her out, only coming to to watch Carol crumble and collapse in a heap on the floor. A heart punched in her chest as adrenaline forced her to her feet, pushing through the aches and pains that wanted to keep her ass planted where it was. The impact had been strong enough that she’d either broken her arm or dislocated it, but she just held it as more agents rounded up kids and Ripley kept those who would fight back at bay. “I don’t think we can win this.” she said, not knowing if her voice carried over the commotion.

H.A.M.M.E.R.: The last of the underaged heroes were being collared, cuffed and carted away.  An agent had manage to subdue Sam Wilson and handcuff him to a chair and Carol Danvers was also down. “No, Miss Pryde.” Carolina shook her head. “You’re not going to.”  At her command an agent ambled over to the mutant and grabbed her by the injured arm for leverage before slapping a collar on her throat. “It’s set to turn itself off in an hour. Expect to feel weak and dizzy in the meantime. We very well could have taken you in, but Ms. Frost asked us to avoid doing so if at all possible.” Now that the room was nearly emptied, Carolina regarded the two remaining heroes with a slightly aloof smile. “We’ll be issuing a statement later about the minors. Until then, have a nice evening.” With the heels of her boots crunching over broken glass, Carolina and the H.A.M.M.E.R. agents left.

SAM: Nothing had gone according to plan, and now they had lost six people and an intergalactic diplomat. Carol was out cold and Pryde wasn’t looking too hot either. The Inhumans had escaped with Lockjaw near the beginning and the Asgardians had also left.  Reed and Sue bailing with their kid made sense; they had to get her home. But the others? Sam couldn’t swallow his guilt. He couldn’t even wipe the blood that  was dripping off his temple, the dark skin above his eye turning purple already from the butt of a gun that had taken him down for a few minutes. With both his hands cuffed to the table, it really felt more like a humiliation and a warning. Try to intervene and this is what happens. “Jesus.” He exhaled in one heavy breath. Back-up would be coming shortly to help them assess the situation, but it was too late. They lost. Now they just needed to see where they could go from here.

[thecatsaesthetics]

Round-Up:l Historical Fiction I’ve read in the past 6 months or so…

I wanted to do a round-up, I don’t think I’ve told people here but I got a job last December where I work from 3pm to 11pm as a data processor and I’m not allowed to have my phone or anything on me but an mp3 player. So I’ve been listening to audible books after audible books. So today I’ve going to give you a short round-up of the books I’ve listened to. 

Becoming Marie Antoinette by Juliet Grey:

This book centers on the Young Marie Antoinette, through her childhood to her accession to the French Throne. It’s a rather good take on the character of Marie Antoinette, they show how underprepared she was for life at the French Court. How different the Austrian Court was. They showed how Maria Theresa had to fight battle after battle to ensure the alliance took place. The marriage of Louis and Marie was so well done. The author really took her time to slowly build the relationship up and highlight how deep there love for each other became. This book was actually perfect for a historical fiction novel, stuck to the facts, very well researched about the era and had interesting characters. The only issue I had is a series but the rest of the series isn’t available in audiobook format. I hope one day the other two books get narrated and I can listen to them.  

The Romanov Empress by C. W. Gortner: 

This book centers on Tsarina Maria “Minnie” Feodorovna (mother of Nicholas II), it starts with her sisters in the engagement of the future Edward VII and to WWI and the aftermath of the Russian Revolution. The book closes out on Minnie and her remaining children fleeing to Great Britain. 

Now this book was very conflicting for me. The problem I had with this book was the characterization of Alexandra Feodorovna (Nicholas II’s wife). It seems Gortner is of the opinion that Alexandra caused the downfall of the Romanov’s, which frankly just isn’t true. The problem for me is, it could be Gortner doesn’t actually believe this, historically Minnie and Alexandra didn’t get along, the book is written from Minnie’s POV. So it’s natural that there is a lot Alexandra hate, but it also seemed over the top. The book blames Alexandra for Nicholas for celebrating after the Khodynka Tragedy (which literally ensured his poor reputation amongst the people). However, everything I’ve read on the topic indicates it was Nicholas’ uncles that insisted the parties continue. To blame Alexandra for every action Nicholas took is just incredibly unfair and simply not true. Alexandra certainly wasn’t a victim but we really need to let Nicholas II stand on his own. If you’re interested the History of Russian Rulers did amazing podcast episodes on Nicholas and really showed how his own actions led to his demise. Now the positives of this book are it really highlights Minnie’s relationship with her sister Alexandra of Denmark (who was the wife of Edward VII). It also shows how interconnected all the families of the first WWI was. The characterization of Alexander III is spot on, and the love between him and Minnie is incredibly believable. I also loved Alexander II in this book (his good and bad sides). Minnie’s relationship with her sister in law Maria of Mecklenburgh adds spice to the book. They were true frenemies. The book does a great job of taking you back to the late 1800s and into the last hours of Imperial Russia. They also highlight the danger the last Romanovs were truly in and how naïve they were to the challenges they were facing. It also showed how Minnie and Alexander’s parenting came back to bit them. Minnie seems to just face conflict after conflict with all of her children. But it’s also heartbreaking to read her reaction to her sons (not just Nicholas but also her son Michael) and grandchildren were murdered. Not to mention the other children she lost (to illness). Also the death of Alexander III was touching. If you’re interesting in Russian history I would give this a go, but take the Alexandra stuff with a huge grain of salt.

The Queens Vows by C. W. Gortner: 

This book centers on Isabel of Castile, going from her childhood to events of 1492. Now I’m going to say this if you’re interested in Gortner as an author you should read this book. Out of the three books I’ve read by him this is the one I believe is most worth your time. His exploration into the character of Isabel is near perfect. While he does have a few inaccuracies (which he mentions at the end of the book) they only add to the story. This book was really able to capture the 1400s for me in a way no other book has to date.

The marriage between Isabel and Ferdinand in this book is extremely well done. You get to see how much they love each other and how troubled the marriage could be. I truly enjoyed the characterization of her brother Henry IV. The weaknesses he had and the struggle between him and Isabel. If you enjoyed the Isabel TV Series this would be a great add on. It’s not exactly the same (Gortner makes it near certain that Isabel’s niece is illegitimate unlike the show) but it’s a perfect add on if you have been craving more since the show ended. I think Gortner handled the Jewish expulsion of 1492 very well. He notes in the back we really don’t know what went through Isabel’s head during that decision, he chose to take one version of it. He also notes how incredibly powerful the idea of damnation was, and that even if Isabel had no personal issues with Jewish people in her realm the overwhelming religious pressure cannot be denied. I agree with him on this point, and while it’s easy for us (in the 21st century) laugh off the idea of damnation in 1492 it was a part of there reality.  

The Vatican Princess by C. W. Gortner: 

This follows the life of Lucrezia Borgia from the start of her father’s succession to the papacy to her entering her marriage with Alfonso d’Este. This one by Gortner was my least favorite. Like the other two, it was incredibly well researched and it does a great job pulling you back. However, I personally didn’t like the characterizations or the route he chose at times. I’m going to give spoilers for the book FYI so scroll past if you don’t want to know. He took the route of victim Lucrezia, which doesn’t appeal to me very much. Also he had Vannozza dei Cattanei hate her daughter for steal the attention of Rodrigo, it has Giovanni Sforza be an abusive ass who sexually assaults her, it has Rodrigo sending Giulia to sleep with Giovanni Sforza to keep him off Lucrezia (And sleep with Juan as well for some reason), it has her brother Juan rape and impregnate her and he does this because he’s upset Cesare killed his lover Prince Cem and wants to hurt Cesare, has Rodrigo grow to despise Lucrezia for Cesare murdering Juan, Rodrigo allows Cesare to murder Alfonso of Aragon to hurt Lucrezia like he was hurt by Juan’s death, oh also Cesare doesn’t murder Juan for the rape itself it’s more about Juan getting to have Lucrezia “first”, it also has Vannozza upset with Lucrezia for Juan raping her as well, and has Lucrezia end up despising Cesare after the murder of Alfonso of Aragon.

Now I’m not a Borgia expert by any means but the book seems to just be filled with nonsense to me. The only good parts of this book were Sancha of Aragon and Lucrezia’s friendship (WHICH BOTH TV SERIES DENIED ME OF) and Giulia Farnese massively calling out Rodrigo for basically pimping her out. While I find the latter inaccurate it was enjoyable to read Giulia talk about how Rodrigo took her when she was barely more than a child and ruined her. Personally, I’d skip this book it’s really not worth it.

The Accidental Empress and Sisi Empress on Her Own by Allison Pataki:

This follows the life of Empress Sisi of Austria-Hungary from her childhood to her assassination.  

This is a series but the two books were read by different people so it didn’t feel like to me. I think all series should have to be read by the same person. To sum it up, the first book is interesting and the second book is a dud. 

The first book I enjoyed so much, it follows Sisi from her childhood to the Austro-Hungarian Compromise of 1867. It follows her disasters marriage with Emperor Franz Joseph at the age of 15, her struggles with her mother in law, her struggles with postpartum depression, and her romance with the Hungarian Count Andrassy. The first book really makes you feel bad for Sisi, she struggles with a rather cold abusive man who claims to love her (but only really loves her image not her) and her struggle for freedom in the Austrian Court. Sisi is more or less pushed out of Franz Joseph and her children’s life. Franz replaces her with mistresses and her mother in law takes over the role of mother to her children. The book ends on a clear high note (Sisi gaining Hungary proper status in the Empire) and honestly the author should have left it there. 

The second book is set after the birth of her final child Valerie (the only child she’s allowed to raise) and to her assassination. The book was a drag, I personally didn’t like the narrator and it took me forever to finish the book. The book makes Sisi incredibly unlikable, it makes it seem more like she abandoned her husband and family rather than being pushed out. The book opens up with Sisi having the opportunity to oversee Crown Prince Rudolf’s (And to have more involvement in his upbringing) but would rather go to Britain to ride horses. She basically is framed as being responsible for his tragedy. The author also ruins the love story she had set up between Andrassy and Sisi (which I had adored in the previous book). Now I understand you have to keep with history but you can’t set up a massive love story in the first book and they tear it down a few chapters in by the second book. The whole second book was a massive let down, I’d reread the first one but not the second one.

The Summer Queen, The Winter Crown, The Autumn Throne, by Elizabeth Chadwick: This book series centers on Eleanor of Aquitaine from childhood to death.  

This series was by far one of my favorite reads of 2019. You should really believe the hype about this series, it truly is that good. Now the books span a massive amount of time so I can’t go into everything but it was 1000% worth reading. The books explore the early Medieval World incredibly well. The author takes a highly realistic approach to Eleanor (who at the end of her first novel claims wasn’t a woman ahead of her time but rather a woman of her time) with a few dramatizations. This book series should be picked up for a TV series on Starz, HBO, or Showtime. It has all the material you need to make an epic TV series. I highly enjoyed the exploration of her marriages to both Louis VIII of France and Henry II of England. How different and yet strikingly similar the relationships were. The only slight issue I have is the author does tend to go the route of King John evil, King Richard I good. Which I personally don’t believe is true. However, they do a great job showing that even though Richard is Eleanor’s favorite she does love John. Again the books take a highly realistic approach to Eleanor so the author more or less stays away from all the rumors about her  (with the expectation of one which I find to add more to the series rather than take away). This is a must-read series, and I can only hope Elizabeth Chadwick will write more series like this. I also hope one day a TV network picks up the novels to adapt.

House of Rejoicing (Part 1), Storm in the Sky (Part 2), Eater of Hearts (Part 3) (The Book of Coming Forth by Day Series) by Libbie Hawker:  These books have multiple points of view (GRRM style) set in Ancient Egypt during the Amarna Era. Starting at the end of Amenhotep III and to the death of King Tut. The POVs range from Kiya, Nefertiti, Tiye, Sitamun, Beketaten, Horemheb, Meritaten, and Ankhesenpaaten (I might have missed some but idk). This series is not for the light of heart, the books include rape, incest, pedophilia, violence against women, etc. I mean this book series is just a lot to take in. The author goes down the route that Akhenaten was an abusive pedophile screwing every barely 13-year-old girl he could get his hands on (his daughters, sisters, sister in law etc). The concept of this series was excellent. A multi-narrative series set in Ancient Egypt, however, the series just misses the mark. I feel like Hawker wanted this to be the ASOIAF of Ancient Egypt novels but couldn’t commit. One of the biggest writing issues I had with this was how short the books were for A. the number of POVs we had, and B. for the span of time we went through. I think this series would have benefited from more books and longer novels. The author also tries to dive into the misogyny and how it affected women. However again she just misses the mark somehow. I could see what she was attempting but it just never got there if you know what I mean. I think this series feels more a draft than a finished product.  Also, the plot is a jumbled mess. Now it’s Ancient Egypt you can really do anything (especially with the Amarna era) but this series was so out there… and I’ve read Philippa Gregory. Some of the things that happened nearly had me bursting out laughing at work.  I really can’t get into all craziness of this series but it’s a lot just trust me. Like I said Akhenaten is a pedophile (actually a lot of the men were) in this book, which idk I don’t feel comfortable with how all of the problematic stuff was handled. The first book was the best book of the series and the last two are really where the craziness begins. But truly I would skip this series unless you up for hours of nonsense and craziness.

[rowanthewizard]

Let us take a moment, in these dark times, to laugh at how out of touch JK Rowling is.

This tweet: https://twitter.com/jk_rowling/status/1269389298664701952?s=20

No one is saying sex isn’t real. Sex is a medical construct, the same as blood type. Your doctor is the only one who really needs to know it. If some rando on the street walked up to you and asked what your blood type was that would be real fucking weird. Same if some rando walked up and demanded to know you’re chromosomes. It’s kinda weird.

Gender is a social construct, which also means it’s real but not intrinsic to humanity. It’s just something society came up with to help organize. Seeing as reproduction isn’t nearly as crucial and surviving is a lot easier now, the construct of having the population that has to carry children and nurse them separate from the part that doesn’t have to do that isn’t really necessary anymore. It’s like an old filing system, still usable, and many people still love it and are attached, but it isn’t wrong for some people to start using the newest model.

Tweet: https://twitter.com/jk_rowling/status/1269401983095648259?s=20

You... you wrote a series... you wrote a series where you called every woman a witch...

Also I call myself way worse words than bitch. I can’t speak for anyone else but bitch and cunt have lost all effect on me. Like, thanks for the giant red flag Mr uncreative, I’ll be leaving now. Has anyone heard the word ‘feminazi’ used in the last, what, 4 years? It seems to have died with gamergate.

Tweet: https://twitter.com/jk_rowling/status/1269406094595588096?s=20

“The idea that women like me, who’ve been empathetic to trans people for decades”

Hahahahahahahahahahaha! Tell that to Rita Skeeter! Did you even read the books you wrote??????

Article: https://www.jkrowling.com/opinions/j-k-rowling-writes-about-her-reasons-for-speaking-out-on-sex-and-gender-issues/

“accusations and threats from trans activists have been bubbling in my Twitter timeline“

Stop listening to Twitter! It’s a dumpster fire! Twitter is not real life!

“I expected the threats of violence, to be told I was literally killing trans people with my hate, to be called cunt and bitch and, of course, for my books to be burned, although one particularly abusive man told me he’d composted them.“

I don’t know if this is a joke or not. But I really hope someone composted them. The image of someone chucking all 7 books onto a compost pile is fucking gold. Can the next brand boycott be a composting one? I want to see angry fanboys fucking composting their nikes! I can’t stop giggling, it’s like 1am.

“because it’s pushing to erode the legal definition of sex and replace it with gender”

I don’t have a joke for this one. She never says what she thinks gender is, so I have no concept of why this would be a bad thing seeing as she’s been conflating the two in every post.

“The second reason is that I’m an ex-teacher and the founder of a children’s charity, which gives me an interest in both education and safeguarding. Like many others, I have deep concerns about the effect the trans rights movement is having on both.”

ThInK oF tHe ChIlDrEn!!!!!!

“The third is that, as a much-banned author, I’m interested in freedom of speech and have publicly defended it”

People being mean to you on twitter is not an affront to your freedom of speech. Freedom of speech protects you from the government not the internet. Why is this such a hard concept?

“I’m concerned about the huge explosion in young women wishing to transition ........ Some say they decided to transition after realising they were same-sex attracted, and that transitioning was partly driven by homophobia, either in society or in their families.”

... do you think transphobia is easier than homophobia???? You’re more likely to face a hate crime if you’re not cis than if you’re not straight.(both are high, but non-cis is higher per capita than non-straight)  https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/2019/06/28/anti-gay-hate-crimes-rise-fbi-says-and-they-likely-undercount/1582614001/

“Parents online were describing a very unusual pattern of transgender-identification where multiple friends and even entire friend groups became transgender-identified at the same time. I would have been remiss had I not considered social contagion and peer influences as potential factors.”

Now, is this 5 close friends realizing at the same time that they are all binary trans people, because that would be statistically weird. Or, is this a group of children where one of them realized strict gender performances are kind of pointless and a pain, explained it to their friends, and they didn’t have the words to describe it other than ‘trans’. The second scenario sounds much more likely.

“The argument of many current trans activists is that if you don’t let a gender dysphoric teenager transition, they will kill themselves.”

Well that’s simplistic, but even so google the suicide rates. It’s that simple. They are very fucking high. All this takes is one google search. Also, you don’t have to medically transition right away. Puberty blockers won’t hurt you, and buying a teenager a binder or a packer really isn’t that hard. Some trans people never medically transition.

“When I read about the theory of gender identity, I remember how mentally sexless I felt in youth. I remember Colette’s description of herself as a ‘mental hermaphrodite’”

Maybe... that’s cause... you know... you’re human. There’s not much different between male and female. one chromosome, three hormone differences, and like four genes. That’s it. That’s not really enough to make differently functioning brains. The only differences are learned ones.

“As I didn’t have a realistic possibility of becoming a man back in the 1980s”

Yes you did. There were plenty of trans men in the 80s. Trans women were the ones who led Stonewall! A nonbinary person is the hero of a Babylonian(?Sumerian?) myth that’s several thousand years old! This is not a new thing! Pick up a book!

“A man who intends to have no surgery and take no hormones may now secure himself a Gender Recognition Certificate and be a woman in the sight of the law.”

What country are you living in cause it’s not England! I follow a trans youtuber and he started sobbing when he got the sex on his birth certificate changed to male because it had taken years and he had had to jump through so many hoops. It’s not even legal to change a many documents in several US states.

“We’re living through the most misogynistic period I’ve experienced.”

Ah yes, gaining the right to vote doesn’t hold a candle to the evil trans women who want to *checks notes* live peacefully. Doctors diagnosing women with hysteria and giving them lobotomies is nothing against people wanting to go about their day!

“Never have I seen women denigrated and dehumanised to the extent they are now.”

I remember the day when my father sold me off to my husband for 20 goats, 5 cattle, and a magnificent draft horse!

“None of the gender critical women I’ve talked to hates trans people;”

...Sure... they just “don’t agree with the lifestyle” don’t they?

Anyway, I read her entire essay. There’s nothing interesting in it. I dug through the poop to find the gold nuggets for you. That rest of it is just the standard “But predators in the little girls room, think about the children” shit we’ve heard for years. I also recognized a lot of conservative talking points and gotchas which surprised me for a moment, but after thinking about the two positions it made sense.

[roses-ruby]

So lemme just rant as a fellow desi, I have seen couples live with each other despite one or both of them being disloyal hoes and they stay together just coz our culture looks down on separation and frankly its toxic. Like I know you have probably written a lot of the chtmd2 already,but bro, I would love to see Jimin suffer, I would love to see the OC fcking drag that bitch through this emotional turmoil where he absolutely craves her but she got no fcks to give and he will WEEP at his LOSS

WHAT HAS GOT YOU IN THIS MOOD HSBJSBJ i’m crine

Rant to me anytime babydoll, I absolutely fucking agree with you and have a few things to say myself. I was talking about this to my sister a few weeks ago, and we were talking about how people look down on not just separation, but specifically women being separated. They literally look at her like picky used goods. It’s revolting. I told my sister then, that I will never see divorce as anything but liberation. I don’t care which lovestruck, heart in his ass fool wants to disagree and call it terrible, divorce is freedom and I have a lot of respect for women who understand that their relationship, although matrimonial, is toxic or unworthy for them. 

I once saw somewhere that this guy asked his grandmother “Grandma, how come people got divorced less in your lifetime?” To which the grandmother responded with something along the lines of “Because back then, if there was a problem, we actually worked on our marriage, rather than get divorced over the smallest shit.” LMAO this old bitch lying through her missing front teeth hddhkbdk no, you didn’t get divorced because society told you not to. You didn’t get divorced because you were scared and scarified yourself and your man beating up on you daily seemed more promising than rotting homeless. You didn’t get divorced because you were barely educated, not able to get a job and provide for yourself and your husband knew that and took advantage of it. You didn’t get divorced because of the fake info going around that children will be scarred after divorce. You didn’t get divorced because you let the opinions of everyone but your own self run you, and threw aside your happiness, pain, anger, hurt until you were numb. You didn’t get divorced because of misogyny, and only that. Not because you ever had anything to work on grandma. And now you’re sitting here, judging other women because you believe that if you can get through an alcoholic and abusive husband for your children, so should they. Pathetic.

It is not just divorce, have you seen the way our culture treats widowed women??? Last year, my mother’s friend (also desi) lost her husband to a heart attack. She was rightfully devastated. Us and a few other desi women decided to give her a visit to make sure she’s holding up. My mother and I, knowing that the poor woman probably hadn’t eaten yet made her and her 14 yr old son sandwiches, daal, and chai. So we go to her house, where most of the women had already arrived (also you know the desi woman circle, everyone knows each other). She’s on her sofa, crying her eyes out and everyone’s circling her and calling her ‘poor thing.’ Anyway, as we sit down we start to notice smthg really strange. Other than us, no one had brought her anything to eat or drink. Which is fine whatever, but they weren’t even offering her words of comfort??? They were saying shit like “Don’t go outside of the house without wearing a black veil, it is a sin.” “Read a certain prayer through the whole night for your husband without sleeping.” “Don’t wear jewerly or bangles ever again.” One even told her to not step out of her house when she talked about finding work!

Needless to say, my mother and I were LIVID lmao. They were punishing her for her husband’s death??? Fucking society bro jhbdjdb But enough about them, to me the saddest part was when I took out the food I had for her family, her son was staring at me with such hunger. I told him, “Here hon, it’s for you.” and he looked back at his mother and asked her if he could have some. The mother said yes ofc, but the thing is, if she hadn’t fed her son she obviously hadn’t fed herself and here were these fucking roaches, who obviously don’t give a shit about her well-being telling her how to live the rest of her widowed life. Sickening.

The way society treats men will never be as bad as how they have treated and traumatized women, which is why I feel that we get so upset and want men to suffer. Especially in these situations. 

CHTMD is my creation, but it has it’s own heart you know. As satisfying as it would be to see Jimin suffer, this story is about the OC and her growth. It’s a testament to me, as a writer, if I want to be self-indulgent or let the story play out to it’s true form. There’s a lot of different factors I have to consider: OC’s character and psychology, Jimin’s actions, side characters involvements, OC’s environment, ‘would a character like Jimin even suffer from this loss?’ etc. Now, the story that inspired CHTMD had the cheater end up with the OC as a happy ending because the author said they ‘got attached’ to the characters. And I just can’t. I would never want to be an irresponsible writer like that lol. Our culture has its downsides but I can’t take that out onto the characters I’ve given life to. It’s not fair to them. Now before I go on further with this cheesy nonsense, just know that I have written a lot for CHTMD, but the ending is still in the works. It is up to the scenarios and characters to decide how this will end.

Okay, so I have no idea why I ended up ranting that much but I completely understand your sentiments. I’m screaming, plz feel free to come and drag CHTMD’s Jimin anytime through my inbox snsbb it’s satisfying as fuckk.

[hannah-deserved-better]

My fandoms and my favorite characters and ships

I’m going to talk about all my fandoms and my top one or two characters from each fandom, and my top OTP from each one, if I have any. I’m going in order from when they entered my life. 

Star Trek: The Next Generation

I watched TNG when it first aired in 1987. It was my first fandom and my most time honored fandom. I literally grew up watching it as a child, until it ended in about 1994, when I was about 10. I didn’t know about ships or OTPs or anything back then (no internet cuz you know... it was the 80′s and I was a child). But I did have my favorites: 

Favorite Characters

Captain Picard: Seriously Picard is awesome. He was my first role model. He always had an important lesson to teach and he always did the right thing. I had tons of different Captain Picard action figures.

Dr. Crusher:  She was probably my very first girl crush. I seriously loved Dr. Crusher. I thought she was tough and smart. In the 80s, when women were beginning to be able to go to college and stuff, she was especially important because she was the Chief Medical officer. She had an important role on the ship.

OTP: It shouldn’t come as a surprise that my OTP for TNG is Picard and Crusher. I wanted them to get together so bad!! My favorite episode was “attached” an episode in season seven where the two of them were stranded on a deserted planet and could hear each other’s thoughts. They learned about their intimate dreams and their feelings for each other.

Star Trek Deep Space Nine: 

Deep Space Nine is near and dear to me because it was MY show. I watched it as a young teenager. It was there for me when I was dealing with some dark times in my life, and dealing with the challenges of being a teenager. it was the first fandom that I wrote fan fiction for. Of course, there was no internet then either, so it was just on notebooks and those notebooks have been lost in time. But even now, Deep Space Nine is my default when I can’t decide what to watch. Its my comfort zone, it’s where I feel safe. It was also one of the first times I felt moved by a show ending. I mourned TNG but I was too young. DS9 left just a void and there was no netflix to take comfort in, so no reruns.

Kira Nerys

I loved Kira so much! She was so bad ass. I seriously wanted to be her back in the day. She had a quick temper and she could be stubborn but she had a very tough past. She was a terrorist. She fought for her people’s freedom and she cared deeply for her planet. She dealt with some serious trauma and PTSD because she had been fighting as a resistance fighter since she was a child. It’s all she knew. Living in caves, starving, surviving. She taught me how to be resourceful, my favorite quote is when she said if you need a hammer, use a wrench. 

Constable Odo

Odo was the sheriff in town. He cared about justice and getting at the truth and he tended to be very hardline about it. He took his work very seriously. I loved his banter with Quark. Odo was the observer, he was on no one’s side but he didn’t hesitate to give his opinion and he wasn’t a fan of authority. He did things his way.

OTP: Kira and Odo! I shipped them so hardback in the day! I knew they had something from the very beginning. In season one I shipped them. I was waiting through the whole show to see them be canon, only to be crushed when Odo left in the series finale! That kiss on the promenade was probably the best thing that ever happened to me!

Star Trek Voyager

I admit I didn’t get into Voyager right away. I was mourning for DS9 and couldn’t handle any more Star Trek spin-offs at the time. So I didn’t get into it until it had already been syndicated. But when I did, it definitely hit me hard. I was going through my early community college years, making friends, I met my husband around this time. I moved away from my parents. There were a lot of changes in my life so VOY came into my life at an important time.

Captain Janeway

Of course, I love her! She’s the captain! She’s smart, she’s tough, and she doesn’t take crap from anyone. She was another huge role model in my life. She was a scientist and a leader. Her crew mattered the most to her and it was through her that I learned about sacrifice and bravery. 

Commander Chakotay

I liked Chakotay. I liked his spiritual side. I happen to be part Native American so that’s something I related to him with. He was a strong sensitive type. The warrior. 

OTP: Janeway and Chakotay of course! I wanted them to get together so bad! It kills me when they had so many close chances that never happened. I mean it was so clear that they loved each other and that Chakotay/Seven thing at the end was a total slap in the face to us Janeway/Chakotay fans! I still hate the writers for that! it totally ruined the series finale for me.  

X-files: So begins the era of stuff that husband introduced me to, starting with X-files. I had never watched it back when it was on because I only had eyes for Star Trek, but my husband, who was my boyfriend at the time, introduced me to pretty much every fandom from here on out. X-files was his show, its what he grew up on. 

Scully: I’m a total Scully girl. I love her! She’s a scientist and she wears a gun. Total badass! And I love that even though her scientific mind, she was also spiritual which, as a pagan, I can relate. She knows that she is in a male-dominated occupation but she doesn’t let it bother her and isn't afraid to give people a piece of her mind.

Mulder

You can’t have Scully without Mulder! I love how dedicated to the cause he was. And my husband and I have this on going joke that whenever you see a top secret secured area you have to wonder if Mulder has broken into it yet. Cuz he always manages to get to places where he isn’t exactly supposed to be. 

OTP: Mulder and Scully of course! Mulder may be a goof ball but he has said some of the most romantic, amazing things. “You were my constant” that whole speech right there was amazing.

Lord of the Rings

My husband introduced me to Lord of the Rings. I never read the books until I met him and even then, I’ve only read the Fellowship, but I loved the movies. They are my ultimate sick day splurge. I plan a LOTR/hobbit marathon when I get sick. 

Aragorn: I think we are seeing a pattern. I like the leader types. The warriors. Which is why I love Aragorn! Also, I’ve always had a thing for guys with long hair so there’s that. But yeah, Aragorn is the sensitive, courageous warrior but he also has this self-doubt. He worries that he won't live up to what everyone knows he must become. 

Faramir

The younger brother to Boromir. I hate how Faramir’s father treated him and I think it’s sad how he still looked up to him and to his brother. He was brave but he had a kind heart and he deserved better than Denethor.

OTP: To be honest, I didn’t really ship anyone from Lord of the Rings. 

Rurouni Kenshin

I’ve never really been into anime but this is the one exception. And of course, my husband introduced me. He’s been a fan of the anime and the manga. I like this anime for it’s historical content. I am a history major and I love fandoms that make the setting a big part of the show. Like the setting itself is a character too, and this was certainly true in Kenshin. Meiji Japan was a character in the show in many ways. I really loved how it tied history into everything, describing Japan’s beginning of imperialism and its rise that would eventually put it on the world stage.

Kenshin

Kenshin is my favorite character! The wandering Samurai who just wants to protect people. He’s the warrior type just like all my other favorites. 

OTP: I didn’t really ship anyone, although I did have a soft spot for Kenshin/Kauru and Sanosuke/Megumi.

The Legends of Drizzt

My favorite book series of all time! I got so obsessed with the Drow through reading these books. My favorites were the first books about Drizzt and his homeland. This is also the first fandom my friend and I got really into and started RPGs with. WE had done RPGs with Voyager and X-files crossovers but this was probably the longes RPG series we did.

Drizzt Do’Urdon: Drizzt and Kenshin have a lot of similarities. Drizzt is another warrior type. He was abused by his female-dominated society until he finally had the courage to do what few drow ever did- leave. He faced hatred and discrimination on the surface because everyone feared the Drow.

OTP: I didn’t really ship anyone. I liked Drizzt/Cattie-brie and I thought it would have been nice if he got to reconcile with Ellifain and maybe they could have been together, but that’s all.

Buffy The Vampire Slayer

I wouldn’t say I am a hardcore Buffy fangirl, but I love the show. My sisters were really obsessed with it back in the day and they both know every single episode by heart. My husband is a huge fan so he finally got me to watch it. 

Willow Rosenburg

Willow’s my favorite! She’s nerdy, geeky, and witchy. She’s been Buffy’s number one and she’s no side kick, she can handle her own. I was a nerd in school, and still am so I get her.

OTP: I liked Buffy and Angel and Willow and Tara. I also thought maybe Xander and Spike would have been cool, or maybe Xander and Andrew.

The Hobbit

I loved the Hobbit movies despite the criticism. They were my first attempt at publishing fiction online. I have a bunch of my old Hobbit fics on Fan Fiction.net still. I also have saved some of my all time favorite Hobbit fics. I love the brotherly love between Fili and Kili and fan fic writers did such a good job of capturing it!

Fili

I am on the ‘justice for Fili’ team for sure. I seriously feel like Fili deserved way more than what he got in the movies. The third movie irritated me because Fili hardly got a part. It’s like he wasn’t even there. Fili was Thorin’s heir and I just think fan fiction does a way better job of giving him the love he deserved. 

Kili

I loved Kili. He’s the younger brother so he feels he has to prove to Thorin- his hero- that he can do what needs to get done. I think it hurt him to be left behind.

OTP: No OTPS here, I don’t really ship anyone. I wasn’t a fan of the Kili/Tauriel thing at all. When I write Hobbit fics, I have these OCs I have been using for years that I ship with Fili and Kili but that’s all.

Supernatural

Last but not least! Supernatural is my last fandom. I’ve been a part of it for about three or four years. It’s my most current, the one I’m into the most at the moment. After it ends, that will be it! No more fandoms for me, all my fandoms will be things of the past. But my husband introduced me to it. He and I both have an interest in theology so that’s why we got into it, for all the angel and religious aspect. I like the mystic stuff, and I like how angels and demons are these different species with their own rules and such. That is the thing I’ve always loved about science fiction and fantasy- I love learning about non human cultures. I like learning how their society is. 

Hannah

Hannah is my current crush these days. I love her. I pretty much think she is a goddess. I have so many reasons. I love that she is a soldier and she’s tough, I love that she has flaws but that she’s brave. Her inner conflict was the best part of her character, how she struggled with her sense of law and justice and with her emotions. She seemed to struggle a lot with trying to process the things she felt. I can honestly say that she is the closest I’ve ever seen to a female person with autism in any of my fandoms. That’s why I love her so much, I relate to her on such a personal level, being autistic myself. She inspires my writing and my art so much. She’s probably my favorite character out of all my fandoms right now. I’ve never related to a character more than I do to her. She is the character I love to play the most because she feels comfortable to me. 

Castiel

When it comes to team free will, I am a Cas-girl all the way! Who doesn’t love that adorable little angel? I feel like Castiel’s whole time on the show has been so sad. He rebelled for his friends and ever since then, it’s been one disaster after another with him and even now when season 15 is about to come out, I don’t think he’s ever found true happiness, and that hurts. He misses being an angel and it hurts that they don’t accept him for who he is. I’ve tried to touch upon Castiel’s emotional health a lot in my writing because I don’t think the show does a good job of addressing it. He has done so much for the Winchesters but I don’t think he’s happy with how his life is now, especially after the end of the last season. 

OTP: Castiel and Hannah! My ultimate hardcore forever OTP. I truly believe Castiel loved Hannah and its clear that she loved him. She is one of the few people in Castiel’s life who seemed to truly, honestly want to address his needs. She literally begged him multiple times to take care of himself, and in true Winchester fashion, was willing to let Metatron out and this sacrifice the world, just to save Cas. She’s one of the few angels who cared about Castiel, even knowing what he’s done, none of that bothered her. In the beginning when they first met, when all the other angels wanted to kill him, she didn’t care what he had done and only left when she thought he had betrayed them and was quick to come back to him when she found out the truth. I love Castiel and Hannah, pretty much all my fics focus on them. 

NOTE: Before you start getting all upset about the fact that all my OTP ships are m/f, I want to point some things out to you. First off, I am bi. Second of all, m/f doesn’t always equal straight and m/m or f/f doesn’t always equal gay. STOP IT WITH THE BI ERASURE!!! I have plenty of other ships but these are my top ships and yes I mostly ship m/f. Just because they all just happen to be my favorites. Maybe because all the above characters tend to have certain characteristics and certain traits and it's their personalities that I ship not their gender. Also, I have huge crushes on the above female AND male characters so again, it’s probably why I ship them. Also, I am demisexual so sex doesn’t really play a huge role in who I ship. A lot of these characters also have similarities to me and my husband, so I tend to ship what I see in real life. I actually ship plenty of other ships other than what’s listed, yes most are still m/f, but some are f/f and some are poly. I don’t ship a lot of m/m because, well, I just don’t. I haven’t found any m/m ships that I really ship. I am all about chemistry first and if I don’t feel it I don’t feel it. Since sex doesn’t play a factor in my ships much, I need them to connect mentally and emotionally much more than physically. I also value equality in relationships. I am not into the whole ‘opposites attract’ thing. Characters have to be compatible. 

And one other thing. Chemistry is in the eye of the beholder. What one person sees as chemistry someone else might not agree and that’s okay. It’s okay to disagree it's not okay to be a hater.

[thewillowbends]

Thoughts on Lucifer (TV) Season 4

So I've spot-rewatched parts of season 4, and I've more or less got a sense for what did and did not work for me.  Lucifer is the kind of trash television I reluctantly love because I enjoy the characters so much, even as they are stuck in a painful mishmash of bad writing with the occasional moment of brilliance carried along by dedicated and talented actors.

SEASON 4 SPOILERS AHEAD OBVS

Let's get what I didn't like out of the way first -

Stuff That Makes Me Cringe

1.)  Up first is my completely shallow dislike for the new devil makeup.  The wings were really well done, but the face/body is kind of meh to me.  It's not badly designed, per se, but it's definitely narm territory in some places.  (While I do like the whole "king of hell" scene at the end and what it portends in terms of Lucifer's final decision, it is hilariously campy, too.)  In my opinion, season two and three still feature the best up-close devil look, particularly in the reveal scene to Linda.  It's disturbing in an uncanny valley sort of way that gets lost with the heavier makeup, and also...the wet blood is a really nice, creepy touch that I'm sad got dumped after the first try!

Also shallow opinion - Tom Ellis is fine as hell, don't get me wrong, and I appreciate that he worked out like crazy for this season, but I actually kind of miss his slightly less muscular look from the earlier seasons.  I feel like he's a guy who looks better with shoulders that are a tad less broadly defined, yeah?  It felt like it made more sense for Lucifer to be well built but not hyper muscular, since he wasn't a warrior in the way, say, Amenadiel or Michael were.  Samael was the tempter - he's built for beauty and desire, with kind of a sly appeal to him.

2.)  Eve.  I really like Eve as a character over all, but I do wish her motivations were explored more explicitly.  I do really like the vaguely feminist undertones of her story, that she's a woman whose entire life has been dictated to her by God and husband, and her decision to leave Heaven is a rebellion against that, a desire to pursue what she wants for herself even as she struggles to break free of old patterns.  While the story does seem to suggest this is her true motivation, I do wish it was given a little more individual reflection.  The thing I find the most poorly handled about her character is the punishment fascination.  I get that it's part of her tendency to try and mold herself into what she thinks the men in her life want, good or bad, but I would've liked more clarity on whether it held any personal appeal to her - i.e. she discusses her son, Cain, but there's little attention given to what it must have been like for her to watch him walk the Earth cursed, much less losing her son Abel to Hell.  Does she resent God?  Is she angry that human life is so short yet the recompense for a life well or poorly lived is so permanent?  Does she feel like her life was stolen for her in a way that other human's choices weren't?

She's already a foil for Lucifer in that she's daring to go against God's plan to explore her own freedom of choice, with the major caveat being that she left Heaven willingly in contrast to his exile.  So while I do feel she was a relatively well rounded character (as far as she could be with what they wanted to do with her), a little more exploration of those motivations was in order, but I absolutely would love for her to come back in a potential season five.  She has a lot of opportunities for growth and a lot of directions they could take her.

3.)  Mazikeen.  I'm actually not completely unhappy with the direction of her story.  It feels like a natural continuation of her struggles in season 3, learning how to "human" and find her place in the world, but the problem is she isn't being given much to do outside of that.  I like that her relationship with Linda is emotionally complicated (it's honestly one of the best female friendships on the show) with elements of platonic, erotic, and maternal love woven into it, but that the story is making it clear she still needs to learn how to develop herself independently.  In season 2, Lucifer states that Maze is like a "baby bird  that imprints on anything near."  Now that we know demons are naturally inclined to want leadership and direction, that actually provides a literal context for why she's clinging to Linda for purpose afterwards.  We just need to move that into a more strongly defined character arc.  Since we know have the Lilim introduced as a legitimate threat, I feel like that's a no-brainer for what should happen if season five occurs with her.  Let's see a storyline with Maze dealing with her family history (the Lilith), having to confront the fact that Hell is no longer her home, while grappling with a life on Earth minus the companion she's had for nearly all of her existence (Lucifer).  Let her evolve into a fully fleshed out character.

4.)  Cain.  I'm not sad to see him go out with a whimper since they clearly had no idea what to do with his character in season 3, but the fallout gets completely brushed over way too easily.  There's no way a federally investigated criminal revealed to be chief of the LA police wouldn't lead to absolute chaos in the precinct for quite a bit afterwards, and God knows, Chloe certainly would've been under the microscope for her role in what went down.  It would've made more sense to have a throwaway line about how she was suspended for a month and kept away LA proper for a few weeks until they made certain the danger was clear and the drama had settled down media-wise.

5.)  Chloe.  I'll be up front that I actually don't mind her more dramatic response to Lucifer's face.  For how easy it is to want to imagine she would handle it better, we've seen pretty much everybody freak the hell out when they see it, so she really shouldn't have been different.  The context also matters significantly here - she encountered it at a violent crime scene shortly after he killed a person.  HUGE difference from how a lot of the other characters were introduced to the truth.  So I don't find her characterization completely OOC there, but what I wouldn't give for just one more episode this season exploring her feelings during that period, what drove her to Europe, what destabilized her sense of who and what Lucifer is.  What I do like is that we got to see her make mistakes and have to answer for them - up until this point, it's been about Lucifer improving who he was to be somebody worth pursuing, but here we finally get to see Chloe's flaws, her struggles to be the better person she wants to be, to get told 'you f*cked up' and have to accept that she's possibly missed her chance.  I felt like her relationship with Eve was well done, that they didn't go the easy route of them being catty with each other all season, but that each provided a different but ultimately legitimate perspective on Lucifer's complicated character.  She could easily be set up as a primary protagonist of season five now with all the changes she's going through.

6.)  The Father Kinley plot.  I actually have no real problem with it for the most part - it provides a central antagonist that is far more threatening than Cain ever was, but I do wish they'd rethought the story of his introduction to Chloe.  It seems to me it would've made more sense for him to seek her out in America.  As a writer, I would've kept Chloe relatively local and had her confessing her fears and secrets to a local church pastor - who could have contacted the Vatican and brought Kinely to her in L.A.  That would've conveyed a sense of Kinley's operation being part of a vast network of religious authorities "in the know" and provided a possible set up for later conflicts if there were others out there like him.  Kinley actively seeking her out would've also reinforced her sense of how dangerous Lucifer is knowing that authorities had been tracking him for years, which could have undermined her own beliefs about who he is.

7.)  The Caleb plot.  I get what they were trying to do, and I appreciate that the show attempted to go there even as it is didn't fully succeed in treating the subject matter as well as it should have.  I get that it's meant to show us that life can be unfair, and that embracing the right to free will comes with the potential cost of suffering, that we must accept the risks of loving and caring for each other.  However, at the end of the day, you have a male POC killed off for a plot that ultimately leads nowhere, and that's...not great.  I mean, I'd rather them try and stumble then completely ignore such things, but it's definitely not the season's shining moment.

8.)  Other thing this season didn't shine on - the pacing.  I get why it happened, since these writers are used to having more leeway to work with time-wise, and ten episodes is not a whole lot to pack in all of the emotional and story conflicts, but the first four episodes in particularly really feel strained.  Even the humor feels slightly off kilter, like they were struggling to find the right tone.  It's better than season three's tendency to sacrifice pathos for humor, but to date, season two remains their best work in terms of the over all pacing and tone.

9.)  Dan.  His backsliding and self-destructive behavior makes sense in light of his depression and sense of powerlessness, but it does feel redundant in light of Lucifer's own backsliding in season 3 and even here.  Frankly, Dan has a legitimate point about how their tendency to write off Lucifer's worse behavior doesn't help him in the long run, but he's, y'know, one to talk.  I honestly think the best direction for his character in season five is to leave the police force.  In particular, I would not be unhappy to see him team up with Mazikeen to fight some supernatural demon crime, actually.  I feel like their relationship has a lot of potential.

10.)  Dan/Ella.  I don't hate it, per se, but I'm just very neutral on it.  The age difference is a little off-putting (he's fortyish, divorced with a kid, yo, and she's clearly a twenty-something), but I don't mind it being a hook up that occurred when they were both in a low place.  I'm uncertain if I want to see it go beyond that.

11.)  Remiel is a lot of fun, but I vacillate over whether her presence is particularly significant in light of Amenadiel's ultimate decision to stay on Earth.  I highly suspect she's being introduced now as a placeholder for further events down the road if the show gets renewed.  She's clearly there to generate conflict in Amenadiel rather than be the conflict itself, but I wonder if they plan on making Charlie's existence more of an issue if the series progresses.

12.)  As always, I appreciate that the series' maintains an unflagging dedication to diversity.  They cast an Israeli Jewish women as Eve.  All of Lucifer's siblings have been POC.  The show has probably MORE bisexual members in the cast than any other mainstream series that I've seen.  It's not perfectly handled, it it definitely has its stumbles where race and LGBT+ content is concerned, but it's trying.  That's more than I can say for most series.

The Stuff That Gives Me Life:

1.)  Tom Ellis acting the shit out of that script, no matter how ridiculous the scenes they gave him were.  I really appreciate that he's so gung-ho for giving his all to the character even when the material fails to rise to the occasion.  Respect, too, for what I assume was basically him living in a gym for the past year.  If Leslie Ann Brandt had to squeeze herself into leather pants two months after giving birth, I appreciate that he rose to the occasion for getting naked all over the place and providing an ass tight enough to bounce a quarter off it.

2.)  Lucifer's character development was on point for me across the entire season.  I feel like everything we saw building up from previous seasons - the anger, the grief, the self-inflicted wounds he refused to let heal - finally came together here.  That moment at the end of episode eight is the perfect culmination of his character development, the painful realization he has about who really is responsible for everything that's happened to him.  And now he can start making the real journey to being a better person.  What happens at the end of the season is exactly what was bound to happen, no matter what story came before, because he needed to recognize the importance of punishment as a LESSON about the consequences of our actions.  Responsibility sometimes means sacrificing what we want to protect what we care about.  That's actually a rather clever nod to the comic version of the character who ultimately had to give up his individual existence to achieve total freedom - this version chooses submission out of recognition that to love and be loved, to be good is to be fettered to our responsibility to others.

(Which makes me really wonder if they are going to eventually push a story where Lucifer becomes a true king of Hell - not only a tyrant who deals punishment and controls the demonic masses but one who begins to show mercy and help some of those souls find release and forgiveness.  Ah well, don't worry friends, if they don't write it in show, I'm already writing it in a fanfic.)

3.)  Deckerstar 4 lyfe.  I didn't expect them to wind up together because they weren't there yet, but it ended on such a pitch perfect note.  Something this show has done remarkably well is avoid the idea of Chloe as the sole source of motivation for Lucifer to improve himself.  It's emphasized over and over again that he has to want it, that he's the one who had to desire the good in himself.  The worthiness comes with the recognition that you want to be worthy of love - and that you are.  Lucifer had to come much farther than she did, but it was nice to see the dynamic switched up a bit with Chloe having to grow, mature, and reconcile herself to her mistakes.

4.)  Eve was MUCH better as a character than I'd thought.  I'm a little smug about predicting so much about her, but that's not an entirely terrible thing.  While her storyline isn't perfect, I did like that it's a deconstruction of an idea of the "perfect woman/partner."  Eve is in love with the idea of Lucifer and the idea of who she can be with him, not so much the reality of who they are.  It makes me a little sad because I do think if they'd met at a point where she was further along in her character development, or he wasn't already in love with Chloe and so far ahead of her in growth, they could have actually worked and fallen in love with each other.  And that's fine!  Part of the point it's making with her character is how important our individual journeys are.  At the end, Eve recognizes she needs to figure out who she is outside of God's plan or what she THINKS is what she wants.  That honesty toward the end, that she really left Heaven for *herself* and not for Lucifer, is a huge revelatory character point that can go a lot of places next season.

5.)  The demons.  Just...everything with Dromos is gold to me.  From his initial excitement at seeing Lucifer to his frustrated attempts to reason with him...to being much craftier and scarier than anybody possibly expected.  Regardless of how we look at it, he played the endgame to the benefit of his stated purpose - loyalty to the infernal throne.  Hell has a king again, one way or another.  And now we have an established threat to keep Lucifer in line over the next couple of seasons, as well as tying up the arc that was begun all the way back in season 1.

6.)  Pulling in the Vatican and a secret society of "in the know" sects was wise.  While I wish the introduction had been slightly different, it leaves open opportunities for later.

7.)  MY GIRL LINDA.  Rachel Harris is such an underrated part on the show.  She has such great chemistry with Ellis in the therapy scenes, and her becoming a mother feels like a natural extension of the underlying maternal element she provides the show.  I like that we get to see her outside of the office now, engaging in a story of her own, which allows her to stay in the cast without losing significance of no longer being Lucifer's therapist.

8.)  AMENADIEL.  He's probably had the strongest and most well directed character development out of any secondary cast member on the show.  Having him forfeit his power to stay on Earth with the humans he loved is such a nice touch, but I like that it was a decision he had to wrestle with.  The idea of human life necessarily being complicated, messy, even unfair and unkind fits well with the theme of responsibility for our choices.  If he stays on Earth, he has to accept that his son will not have a perfectly Heavenly life, that to be human is to accept all that comes with it.  DB Woodside has great chemistry with the cast, and I'm looking forward to seeing what they'll do with him in future seasons.

9.)  Lucifer holding baby Charlie for two seconds, awkwardly cooing at him, then immediately passing him off like a hot potato.  That's real character development, guys.

10.)  Amenadiel saying goodbye forever to Lucifer in the baby ward, for what is ultimately and tragically not the reason he expects it to be the last time he gets to say it.  Woodside and Ellis have such great chemistry.

11.)  Ella's loss of faith is handled pretty well.  I appreciate that she had to reclaim it herself and not because she got to see the divine is real.  Fits nicely with the theme that we have to actualize our own beliefs and realities.

12.)  LGBT+ representation was better this season.  It's too late for Lucifer's pansexuality to have any real meaning at this point, but I appreciate him stroking the guy's face while using his eye voodoo in episode 1.  Little touches like that make the "Bi the way" aspect of his character seem less tacked on.  Mazikeen, on the other hand, is where things got much better - she's actually seen dating both men and women, having difficulty parsing her complex emotional relationship with Linda, being openly attracted to and pursuing Eve (also openly bisexual).  Please don't disrupt this improvement next season by giving her a male love interest, Netflix, I'm begging you.  Give us at least SOMETHING here.  She's got the most open-ended story for a relationship, and her development is clearly suggesting she wants family to call hers outside of what she has with the rest of the cast.  (I know I was saying I low key ship her with Dan, BUT I TAKE IT BACK.)

13.)  The dragon wings are admittedly very cool looking.  I prefer the more streamlined devil makeup otherwise from seasons 2 and 3, but the wings can stay.  I imagine the amount of fic tagged "wing kink" on Ao3 is going to increase several fold now.  (Yes, that is an actual thing.)

14.) Lauren German showing up to play this season!  She finally gets to do more than just be the straight man.  All of her dramatic moments with Ellis were well done.  No complaints.  I have way more faith now seeing her move into a primary protagonist role in season 5 if we get it.

15.)  LESLIE ANN BRANDT CAN SING!!!  What a sweet moment and what it says about Mazikeen's development as a character (even if it is ruined by Eve's obtuse logic afterwards).  How much do we want to bet that Lucifer's reaction to that is what made him decide to leave her behind on Earth?

16.)  AJKLSJD;FLSAFDAS THANK YOU FOR FINALLY BRINGING IN MORE SUPERNATURAL STUFF.  We finally get to see the throne!!!  There are prophecies!!!  WINGS!!!  (How cool are Remiel's??)  Demons can possess people canonically!  The Lilim are a well established thing!  Lucifer is back in Hell!  So many place this can go now.

Anyway, I have good feelings for the most part.  It’s still a heavily flawed series, but it’s not so bad that I’m going to dive out of it ala Hemlock Grove, which I’m fairly certain gave me brain damage by mid-season 2.

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

- final rehearsal was a success!!!!

- Claude has this one line like ‘I’m just gonna be off with my pretty little daffodils’ but someone forget to set the flowers before the scene so he had to go ‘just me and my imaginary daffodils….aren’t they pretty?’ and everyone was actively dying lmao

- Margaret Mead’s coat FINALLY opened up all the way....it hasn’t been doing that

- we are VERY CLOSE to finally running the show with lights!!!!!

- lmao the poor guy I think this is like? the fourth? maybe fifth? attempt at lighting and it’s hectic but I have faith 

- Woof still does not have a consistent wig 

- omfg so for after the final ‘Ain’t Got No’ s there’s a blackout so Claude can get off stage and then the tribe comes out and starts up their protest chants right but today everyone got in place before the lights came up and they brought up the lights behind them first so they were silhouetted and I said ‘ Fuck that looks so cool’ out loud lmao I hope they keep it like that!!!!!

- there was a dog in the theater....just cause? No one would let her walk she was so cute omfg

- I was wearing my Chicago(tm) shirt bc it was the first thing I saw before leaving the house but when I was backstage for mics Every Single Child Who Saw Me started singing the Chicago song from Victorious lol

- Berger handed me his mic and it was absolutely covered in hair....and I know you’re thinking ‘well duh Molly you’re doing Hair’ but here’s the thing....his mic is kept in a bag, attached to a mic belt, strapped around his waist.....the hair was stuck all over the mic itself, under the tape that was still stuck to the mic.....and his extensions only come to a little past his shoulders.....so how on earth did this loser manage that

- I don’t know wtf happened to Claude during ‘I Got Life’ like all the sudden he just....malfunctioned asdwfghb idk if he lost his voice or forgot the notes so just panicked and went into a higher pitch but MAN was it weird 

- Could you imagine if Claude lost his voice during the show??? holy shit

- I need Berger to calm down ever so slightly because while I do appreciate he has a lot of high energy songs literally EVERY TIME he finishes the song all you can hear, even over dialogue, is him panting as though he’s aware he’s about to take his final breath. Sweetie. Dork. Ration you breathing. You Know This. 

- lmao

- Claude’s wig fell off during the ‘Hair’ number again and he and a girl had to duck behind the other actors to try and fix it lol

- Margaret Mead made ‘My Conviction’ his BITCH

- also more jokes about real-life Margaret having Big Dick Energy

- after the finale scene ended the assistant director screamed ‘that was IMPACTFUL, BITCH!!!!!’

- I cried during ‘Frank Mills’ and like it’s not even a sad song but the girl is just that good of a performer wtf

- “okay guys so your best performance of the night was definitely ‘Sodomy’ in my opinion” 

- a 16 year old finding out that Aquarius is in fact an astrological thing and not just a word the hippies all really like 

- “what if I just.....played A Chorus Line music instead?”

- oh my God so the set right they have this big rainbow cardboard-cutout peace signs like, the actual peace symbol and then also hands doing the peace sign right and this one hand just....does NOT want to stay standing up lmao it fell over in pretty much every scene

- this one kids mic was somehow tangled around his body and clothes in like five different ways and it took f o r  e v e r to get it off him and when he was finally free he’s like ‘you’re so patient, thank you for being an amazing person’ asdfgrhj what a sweetheart 

- WHY CAN’T THESE KIDS C O U N T

- I don’t even mean musically like. there’s a lot of being in the aisles right, it’s Hair, you know. so you’d figure him......22 people in this cast....maybe 11 in one aisle and 11 on the other....that could make sense EXCEPT everyone wants to be stage right for some reason!!!!!

- Like you’d think....if one side has 17 people and the other only has 5.....a few of them might realize that’s a problem and go to the other place,,,,,,,,,,but no,

- I almost passed out like 3 separate times bc I was so hungry rip

- the directors husband asked me very seriously if I thought we could make it through the show without him having to buy more batteries and something on my face must’ve been gd hilarious because he lost it after I said no lmao

- but overall??? I’m pretty excited to see how opening night goes this Thursday???? Fingers crossed!!!!

- Beads, flowers, freedom and happiness 💖

[mittensmorgul]

From your vast knowledge of canon, was Anna's angelic name Anael, or is that fanon? If it's canon, would that make Danneel's angel Aniel or something similar?

That’s fanon.

“Anna” was the name her human parents gave her. We never did learn if she had an “angel name” different from that in canon. All the angels just went on calling her by her human name.

From the Superwiki:

Julie McNiven suggested that Anna's full angelic name was actually Anael, who is an angel in real-world lore,[7] which would make "Anna" a nickname for her by other angels, similar to "Cas" for Castiel. Fans have speculated that Anna was one of the angels in lore with "Ana-" names ever since the reveal of her true nature; Anael just so happened to be the most common pick. This is dispelled with the appearance of Danneel Ackles character Anael in 13.13 Devil's Bargain.

I am thoroughly amused by the fact they chose names associated with TWO women from the past that Dean had tentative romantic interest in-- Jo Harvelle and Anna Milton-- for the character of Sister Jo.

And after hearing Anael’s role in Heaven as a button-pushing functionary, and knowing Anna Milton’s role as an angel was as the leader of the entire Garrison, I don’t think we’re supposed to assume they’re even remotely similar.

Except... Like Anna (and like Hannah, to bring up yet another angel with a very similar sounding name), Sister Jo is fascinated by human emotions. Her reaction to humanity seems to fall somewhere between Anna’s desire to experience it fully for herself, and Hannah’s completely hands-off All Angels Back To Heaven Now belief that human emotions aren’t for angels.

Like the angels Daniel and Adina from s10, that Hannah recruited Cas to help her return them to heaven, Anael discovered “freedom” on Earth. And yeah, when her alternative was to return to pushing that soul-counting button for the rest of eternity I can see why she’d rather find some way-- PRETTY MUCH ANY WAY-- to just stay on Earth.

But unlike Anna, she didn’t want to experience humanity (except in the context of occasional drug use... I mean, the way she talked about having siphoned off just enough grace that she could feel some human feelings and yet never actually be subjected to them as if they were still mostly out of reach for her, sounds an awful lot like someone describing being high, you know? Or maybe you don’t, but whatever... she and Luci even had very different opinions on what the experience was like for each of them based on their very different life experiences.)

Point is, neither Luci nor Anael actually WANT to be fully Human. Anael was academically interested in the experience, but Luci was once again disdainful. No matter how close he got to humanity, he never let those human feelings touch him in the least.

But I find it interesting in that each of these angels have arrived at near-Humanity in different ways:

Anna voluntarily cut out her grace, fell, and was BORN human into her own human body. She wanted to fully experience human emotions, and when she reclaimed her grace (at least until she was captured and returned to Heaven for reprogramming) she retained her opinions and understanding of human feelings. She was fundamentally different from pretty much every other angel with regard to her grace and her “vessel,” because IT WAS NOT A VESSEL, it was her OWN HUMAN BODY.

Hannah’s experience was from the standard Angel-Possesses-Willing-Human-Vessel standpoint, and as such she always felt that the human emotions she experienced from Caroline were a sort of foreign thing to her. Despite being curious about human emotions and experiences, Hannah felt the depth of Caroline’s anguish over how Hannah hurt her husband, and was humbled by those feelings. Instead of inspiring Hannah to want to experience more human feelings for herself, she decided that those “human things” were simply not for angels, and she chose to return to Heaven and leave humanity to itself. (yes she took another human vessel when she needed to speak to Cas face to face, but it’s implied that it was only for practical purposes and that she had no personal desire to experience or experiment with human feelings again)

Anael was relieved to no longer have to play Button Pusher in Heaven. I guess sitting there bored for most of history of the universe gave her plenty of time to think about how she’d do things better/differently in Heaven, if only any of those angels would’ve listened to her... She’s got an agenda, and Big Ideas for how to make Heaven work the way she thinks it ought to. But in lieu of actually having the power or drive to make it happen in Heaven, she’s founded her own little Crossroads Empire on Earth. Even the way she got her vessel-- by “making a deal” with a distraught woman who was willing to trade her life for her husband’s, is kinda... academically understanding the human emotions involved, and yet dispassionate enough to selfishly claim her vessel without a second thought, you know? And then after her conversation with Lucifer about what it’s like to experience human emotions when her grace is depleted, she mentions “hope, and even love” as if she’s at least had a chance to skim across the surface of those feelings but that she’s never felt compelled to fully immerse herself in them. They’re more... academically interesting to her. She’s proven to be VERY good at manipulating those human feelings to her own personal benefit, behaving very much like a Crossroads Demon, exchanging her own power for cash. She deliberately sided with Lucifer, because she sees him as her key to actually return to Heaven without being immediately sent back to her button-pushing post. She’s literally got Luci right where she wants him. Like Rowena influencing Crowley back in s10, like Ruby influencing Sam back in s4 (only via Luci’s addiction to her grace power-ups instead of demon blood... because honestly we know how cannibalized grace works-- or doesn’t work-- long-term...)

I’m throwing Castiel onto this list too, because he’s the Most Human of all the angels, and how he came to be that way is absolutely unique among angels. The entirety of his grace was removed while he was alone in his vessel, and he had no need to be “born” into his own vessel because he already HAD his own vessel. All of his angelic memories were intact, and the only thing removed was his grace. He got to live completely as a human in his own body in a way that Anna didn’t even get to experience (since she’d lost her memories for most of her human lifetime). Cas was then driven by desperation to “cannibalize” grace that first time, and it slowly poisoned him until Crowley topped off his tank. He was then dying again when Metatron told him about that tiny shard of his original grace that would at least stop him from dying from the stolen grace. He’s struggled with the fact that the vast majority of his original grace was destroyed in the angel fall spell, and has never seemed to “recharge” back to its original level. Which brings me to the seeming wtf-ery of Lucifer’s “recharging grace.”

Because the way Lucifer’s grace was vampirized in 13.07 was entirely unlike the way Cas’s was completely excised in 8.23. At the baseline here, Cas is no longer like other angels. Unlike Lucifer and Anael here, Cas WAS completely human within his own body for a time. Luci and Anael have stopped short of going all the way human. Unless we get some other sort of explanation for that, I’m going with that explanation for now.

At this point I’m gonna skim through my inbox a bit, because I think I yammered enough here to have at least touched on some of my other anons... like this one:

idk if someone else already mentioned this, but did it seem to anyone else like they were mirroring Aneal with Ruby? Like angel to demon but you never know if you can trust them and they're a smooth talking strategist sneakily angling to put a certain someone on a throne...

Yuuuuppp. :P

So as long as an angel has a bit of their grace left, they can recharge it. Why were Cas' powers muted for so long, then? His grace should have healed.

As I kinda tried to say above, the implication for years has been that Cas really isn’t like other angels anymore. I think he’s really not like other angels anymore. Even with his own original grace restored, Cas is essentially human now with a grace power-up. It’s like he can get back to that baseline he achieved by having his own grace restored in 10.18, but can only get back to that depowered state, you know? (similar to how he was when he was slowly losing his powers back in s5, because he was “disconnected from Heaven”. It’s as if he’s truly chosen his side, and like he said in 12.19, he’s officially picked the Winchesters.)

[talesofealdancynedom]

The aforementioned beach house deck, before the misty beach

Tale 31: If We Lost The Sea Wives (chapter 5 - Rising Tides  5/5 ) part 7. Stories of Magic Forests

no warings

Hara, Woodwick, Dominique, and Dragon Princess Fleogenan, arrived late in the afternoon. They had just taken a long and exhausting train ride to Isfisceard, from The Grand West. So many trains, transfers and ferries; Just to get to this isolated magic island. The family beach house was near the train station, on the road leading into Isfisceard’s village area. The place was quaint as ever, and the local academy was much smaller than Pepperidge’s, where Hara now worked. It made him feel warm, and he couldn’t help but passionately describe his home to Fleog.

Though Saturn was enjoying retirement, his best days were still the ones where he was hugged by his grandson. The beach house had room enough for Fleog and Hara, but Dominique and Woodwick stayed in an inn by the coast. Saturn was pleasantly surprised to see Dominique, his first grad student, looking youthful as ever; And finally requiting Woodwick’s infatuation. She had been sharing an annual bath with Woodwick, as fountain nymphs do, to keep their true loves forever. It simply warmed Saturn heart. Both Hara and Woodwick had found true loves; And Saturn’s heart beated with ease knowing it. One true love, is something both rare and everywhere it seemed. But everything was starting to change when, Hara began sharing his research at dinner.

“The school teaches mages like me now, Grandpa. My prime student is no exception. Pepperidge’s best young seer, saw that Woodwick was a fountain nymph instantly! He’s an avid naiad enthusiast, and historian. The boy suggested I use royal fey, to make the magic forest a conservation and heritage site.” Hara began. “So, when it came to showing the human side of fey, and the value of Pepperidge, the power of empathy was the way to go. I even published your notes on Woodwick! He had fooled the entire magic community, as the best transmutation teacher in the land. Lost his job though; But me and Dominique hope our efforts can get him reinstated by next semester.” He chimed. Dominique was principal of the academy, and looked uneased by the rant. Everyone felt disturbed by hearing that Woodwick being a fey, was leaked.

“Hara. Why would you do that? Those were kept in the library archives for a reason. I trusted you with those! Now Woodwick lost his job and identity, which I worked hard to give him. Domanique got her familiar killed for covering it up; And almost lost her job as well!” Saturn snapped, standing up. “Can you imagine what would have happened if you hadn’t gotten Pepperidge legally protected? I’m proud of your success, but disappointed in your lack of care.” He yelled. It took everyone aback. Saturn was normally calm and content. Everyone held him in high regard, as an elder, father, grandfather, and mentor. The air began the thicken and sink, as Saturn’s rage bubbled up. Hara was in near tears, as he believed that publishing his beloved grandpa’s research, was an inedible good. He couldn’t stand knowing he had disappointed someone so important to him. When Hara imagined coming home, he expected a more merry ruinion.

“But its ok now…” Woodwick said, trying to settle the tension. The atmosphere was scaring him; Fey can be driven by fear, as it is on of the emotions they share with all living things. Woodwick had already accepted the matter, and hoped to comfort everyone with that fact. But Hara looked like he was about to cry, and Fleog could not read the room; She looked around in confusion, while beginning to worry. Electra kept eating, as Jasper just stared at Woodwick, as his face cycled through the stages of grief in under a minute. Dominque, however, looked away and stayed quiet. Saturn then took his seat.

              Fey are magic, know magic omnisciently, and sense it’s flow and presence. They were made of it, and came from the shadow veil which is formed by it. Any source of magic reminded them of home, and their parents the King and Queen of their fey kingdom. Other fey are like siblings or cousins, and royal fey like big brothers and sisters. That is how they perceive family. That is how fey understand magic. Thus, it is also how they tell if humans can use magic, are mages, or even if they are enfeyed with one of their kin. The flow and feel of the magic on a human, or enchanted object, is a dead give away. They can immediately identify another fey in seconds.

Electra, raised human, did not understand what her feyness was sensing; Thus, Electra could tell Woodwick was a fey, but didn’t care. Some trees talked, some said nothing, and some people felt distant, and others homey. It was normal to her. Like Saturn, it all blurred together. She did not react. Woodwick on the other hand, is still a fey capable of spotting the difference. Thus, Saturn wasn’t the only one who knew Electra was a selkie. The whole time. Since they were discussing truth, and fairies have no tact, Woodwick decided to toss his chips into the pile, to back Hara.

“You make a big deal over some old research, that helped a good cause, and insult your grandson. I understand why you covered for me, when people would pay to own me. I would never have the wonderful life I do, if people knew the truth. But why do you lie about your daughter? What terrible thing would happen if everyone knew she was a selkie? Northland men marry and fall in love with fish fey all the time; Jasper is just bonkers for her!” Woodwick prompted. Jasper started chocking on his food, as Hara stared into middle distance. Saturn tensed, while sinking into his seat. Electra patted Jaspers back to help him recover. There are many ways to react to reality.

“Oh. That’s interesting.” Electra said calmly. “Maybe that’s why he didn’t say anything, Woodwick; Because there are no reproductions?” She smiled. Electra then gave a squishy selkie cuddle to her husband.  Oddly, Jasper had become outraged, just as Saturn. No one thought he had it in him.

“Saturn, why? Why would you? Do you fancy trapping fey to make your family? You’d rather lie to keep Elektra from being herself, then lose her to the sea? Are you a coward like the other men, who trap their selkies on land? Is her mother off somewhere too? Woodwick, sure; Nymphs can live happy around humans, and I’d say it was a good choice. But your daughter? She could be suffering away from the sea, and I unwittingly got in a true love relationship with a fey! I trusted you! My wife is not human; At least the other lads get to know before they kiss! You took advantage of my eagerness of my heart, over my head.” Jasper ranted. “Saturn, give her coat back! It belongs to her! I refuse to be another man, holding such a precious fey against her will.” Jasper demanded. Elektra looked confused; Coat? I have another coat, aside from my pink trench?

“But Jasper, I have all my coats in the closet…” Electra said, quietly. Tugging him back into his seat gently.

              Imagine three men, scrambling up a tiny staircase, to get to a locked bedroom, with a locked trunk, to fetch a McGuffin. Tearing each other down, yelling insults, and acting more like beasts then people. Dominque cleaned up the dishes with protest, while all the fey sat at the table, talking merrily about sand. Dominique started to sing for them, to keep them calm; One was a royal dragon after all. The conflict arose as Saturn wanted Elektra to stay his daughter, Jasper wanted to give her freedom, and Hara wanted his father and grandpa to calm down for a minute, and not hurt each other. Whoever possessed the pelt, had the power. After ten minutes of yelling in the attic, Electra looked into the sea. She knew exactly what a selkie was, what humans did to them, and what magic they held. Which is honestly not much aside from exquisite radiance, gullibility, passivity, and swimming skills; Maybe also talents in singing and collecting nautical memorabilia. Elektra looked around the cottage. It was built to be closer to fey, by a man who made her fish pie, and decorated it with chimes made from the shells she collected. With her coat, Electra could go to the shadow veil to meet her selkie mother, her Fish King Mother, and Fish Queen father. She could wander all the seas of the day veil, if she wished. The sea did seem enchanting, luring, and beautiful. Electra got up, and calmly went upstairs.

              Jasper had possession of the coat. When Electra came in, the men were silent. Her father went pale seeing her, and Hara was sobbing. Electra was so confused. Jasper ran up to her, and shoved the soft cream and copper ross selkie skin, into her arms.

“This belongs to you, my love,” He cried. “Take it.”

“NO.” Saturn exclaimed, lunging forward. Hara immediately tackled him, then started profusely apologizing. Electra felt the soft fur, smelled it, and examined it. It looked like a big fur coat, made from plush seal skin. She put it on. Saturn started uncontrollably sobbing, at the thought of never seeing her again; Like he was burying a child.

“I’m sorry, Electra! Please don’t go. Please-” Saturn sobbed.

“I have so little respect for you, grandpa! Not even for the lying. You’re being an idiot, and acting like a child.” Hara said. Electra went downstairs, and her husband, father, and son, followed her. She calmly walked to the sea edge of the ocean. Dominique slammed the screen door, leaving the three men watching Electra gaze into the foggy evening sea. She took a deep breath. The sea always had a low hum to her, and the voices of her sisters were as beautiful as ever. Behind the screen, Hara watched his father and grandfather, throw away their dignity, as they started uncontrollably crying and banging the glass. The palpable regret, love, and fear, was touching. Hara, this whole time, had no opinion. Like his mother, and as a mage, it was all the same to him. He literally did not care that his mother was a selkie. Like he was satisfied with an answer, which explained a lot about his mothers’ behaviour. He felt really bad for his patriarchs. They couldn’t just go to the shadow veil like him, and ask the Fish King where Electra was. To a common folk, watching a fey leave, is a final goodbye.

              The screen door opened, and Electra walked in and put her fur on the coat rack, then sat back down at the table and poured herself tea. In a state of comfort induced by the home, Woodwick had been brewing tea in the background. Electra was humming a soft cheerful tune. Hara went to join the fey at the table with Dominique.

“Really, Electra? The coat rack! That’s no place for an enchanted lifeline!” Jasper said.

“Why didn’t you just go? Your whole life was a lie, and I was so scared. You don’t have to stay anymore. Not for me or anyone. Worse, I know fey don’t feel hate, and you forgive us regardless. If you choose to leave, it is less then I deserve. I just love you so much.” Saturn said. Everyone waited in silence, waiting for Electra’s response.

“I like my life better then being alone in the ocean. That fur is pretty, and really soft, but I don’t think I need it for anything other then resealing. Wait is that the right word….” Electra said, drinking her tea. Saturn sat on the nearest chair, gasping. Jasper ran over to hug his wife. The bitter and comforting smell of tea, was filling the room. Nothing had changed. Electra didn’t care about the ocean. Skin or not, she still swam, cuddled, collected, sang, and hung around her favourite humans.

Leave or stay, nothing would change but Electra’s company. Saturn felt like a fool. The backlash lasted all of an hour; For a lie that worried him for over thirty years. While everyone enjoyed tea, he sat by the window, in disbelief. He felt so relieved, yet also embarrassed. The urge to grab the coat, and put it away still strong. Then, Hara sat next to him, and offered a ceramic mug of tea, that was blacker than the abyss.

“That was dumb. Mom would never leave, just like Woodwick’s not going anywhere due to life you gave him. Besides, you should have known selkies are too stupid to leave the men they love. Honestly, this answers a lot of questions. Father might take a while to process his life though… He’s really not a thinker, is her?” Hara said.

“You have no opinions? You’re not scared of loosing your mother, or seeing your family broken?”

“I am. It just wont effect me as much as a mage. Who it really hurts, is you. I can’t imagine the anxiety you put with every day, for a meaningless lie. Mother loves us, and wouldn’t leave, and I knew it. The fondness fey get for humans, can be incredibly binding in my experience. No one is going to judge you for having a sea daughter, sea wife, or adopting a fairy. Magic is everywhere, that thing is kind is normal in Isfisceard. I mean, I married a dragon princess, and no one cared.”

“Imagine Hara, what the Northlands would be like if the fish kingdom disappeared. Your mother, grandmother, and so many daughters and wives gone. It’s sad, and scary. What if we lost all the sea wives? What if y heart breaks again in my life-time.”

“We would grieve, like people do when they lose someone. Then my student Rah who is Queen in waiting, to crown Fish Prince Broc, would be the new Fish King; And restore the sea fey to our Northland shores. Even if the fey we loved will never be replaced.” Hara smiled. Saturn grimaced; Woodwick had made the tea too strong. Then he paused and turned to Hara. He hugged him, like they would never meet again. Hara may not have full selkie squish, but he felt just as good to hold.

“You are right Hara. I am an idiot. I guess I had too much pride and fear. Or had my heart above my head. To think, when I was a younger man, I feared the being the exact thing I’ve become.”

TABLE OF CONTENTS--->

<---PREVIOUS

[arisefairsun]

My English teacher left me very confused when learning about Romeo and Juliet. He said that it wasn't a love story because they didn't love each other; Juliet just basically used Romeo, but I don't know what to think. Can you please explain to me if it's a love story, tragedy, or both?

Did your teacher say that Juliet used Romeo? How rude.

The first thing we have to remember is that the feud is the exponent of an unhealthy ideology that promotes violence, hatred, prejudice, and brutal misogyny. Don’t ever forget the world they lived in. Romeo and Juliet are not normal teenagers living in a normal world and making stupid decisions. They are children whose mental health ends up destroyed by the ideals of their families. I just won’t stand anyone who refers to them as ‘dumb’ because it’s a very insulting way of dismissing the destructiveness of social oppression and abuse. It’s so evident that their families caused their deaths that at the end of the play nobody has the guts to blame them for their own deaths and dismiss their emotions as shallow or dishonest. What they have done is too monstrous for them to deny. When both patriarchs find the young lovers dead together in the crypt they see the wrong in their actions and take responsibility for it. They know they killed their children. It was not teenage folly that ruined Romeo and Juliet. It was a sick society that glorified violence and prejudice.

Perhaps your male teacher is annoyed by the fact that Juliet hardly fits in the role of a sixteenth-century obedient wife who goes along with whatever her husband has to say. On the contrary, Juliet has a voice of her own. It is evident from the first conversation between the lovers that she has a very particular, specific way of thinking, and which doesn’t necessarily match that of Romeo. For instance, she gently mocks his stereotyped courtship when she says “you kiss by the book.” I would say she is a far better poet than him—he actually learns from her. Think about the way she corrects him when he tries to swear his love by the moon. She literally rationalizes everything. Romeo needs to get on her level. Later on, he will ask her to “sweeten with thy breath / This neighbour air, and let rich music’s tongue / Unfold the imagined happiness that both / Receive in either by this dear encounter,” to which Juliet answers that “conceit, more rich in matter than in words, / Brags of his substance, not of ornament”. You see, she doesn’t always agree with him, and she presents her own points of view resolutely. She is the one to give lessons.

Moreover, she is capable of turning against Romeo. Look at her reaction to Tybalt’s death:

O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face!Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave?Beautiful tyrant! Fiend angelical!Dove-feather’d raven! Wolvish-ravening lamb!Despised substance of divinest show!Just opposite to what thou justly seem'st,A damned saint, an honourable villain!O nature, what hadst thou to do in hell,When thou didst bower the spirit of a fiendIn moral paradise of such sweet flesh?Was ever book containing such vile matterSo fairly bound? O that deceit should dwellIn such a gorgeous palace!

She only truly decides to stand up for him when she decides that it was most likely Tybalt who started the fight. So she has a very clear perception of judgment that she uses all the time, even when it doesn’t benefit Romeo. He recognizes her independence and doesn’t expect her to behave in a way she doesn’t agree with just because it would do him good. When he is banished, he anxiously asks about her well-being, aware that he may have lost her sympathy for good:

Spakest thou of Juliet? How is it with her?Doth she not think me an old murderer,Now I have stain’d the childhood of our joyWith blood removed but little from her own?Where is she? And how doth she? And what saysMy conceal’d lady to our cancell’d love?

Juliet is a really complex character who doesn’t need to adopt anyone’s posture because she has thoughts and ideas of her own. She has personality. Look at her words. Her courage is limitless:

O, bid me leap, rather than marry Paris,From off the battlements of yonder tower;Or walk in thievish ways; or bid me lurkWhere serpents are; chain me with roaring bears;Or shut me nightly in a charnel-house,O'er-cover’d quite with dead men’s rattling bones,With reeky shanks and yellow chapless skulls;Or bid me go into a new-made graveAnd hide me with a dead man in his shroud.

She doesn’t mind breaking any rules that may prevent her from getting what she wants. And she breaks them simply because she wants to. For instance, living in a world where names, honor, and dynasty do indeed determine people’s lives, she claims that what makes Romeo valuable has nothing to do with his surname. “What’s Montague? It is nor hand, nor foot, / Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part / Belonging to a man.” Tell her that her Romeo is not free from social constructs. She’ll fight you. And where does she get all these ideas from? She gets them from herself.There’s this delicious youth about her, this restless euphoria, this passionate determination, this unstoppable fierceness, this need to experience life freely. Juliet is too alive to stay quietly in the shadows. She has fallen in love with liberty so deeply that once her only chance to achieve freedom dies, she inevitably, tragically, dies as well. In my opinion, she is the most intelligent character in the play. She has some of the deepest and most revolutionary speeches. She makes what is to me the hardest and scariest decision when she drinks the friar’s potion. She is the sun. She is life itself. Romeo knows and admires this. In his dreams, Juliet brings him back to life because “she breathed such life with kisses in my lips.” Her love is stronger than all the hate living in Verona: “Look thou but sweet, / And I am proof against their enmity.” To him, she is a powerful light forcing her way through the window, overcoming the restrictions of the physical space, and thus freely expanding herself through the sky without restraint: “What light through yonder window breaks? / It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”

However, the patriarchal structure of her society inevitably thwarts her liveliness. She must restrain herself. Look at the way she refers to her house: “Bondage is hoarse and may not speak aloud.” She feels like a prisoner who must stay silent. But if she were free, things would be quite different: “Else would I tear the cave where Echo lies / And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine / With repetition of “my Romeo!” Now compare that with her attitude in the first act, before she met Romeo. She had assured her mother that she would “look to like, if looking liking move. / But no more deep will I endart mine eye / Than your constent gives strength to make it fly.” She is trapped in the role of the submissive daughter who allows her parents to command her life. She didn’t dare contradict her mother the way she does with Romeo later on. So while she must show obedience to her parents, she can let out her real self in Romeo’s company. He is interested in listening to her and taking into account whatever she has to say. She finds a friend in him, as she once says, and she begins to free herself from the constraints of her society. Romeo is her chance to achieve a more exciting life. But even as she imagines him as a little bird that she can cherish, she stresses her lack of freedom as opposed to his ability to fly. She is “loving-jealous of his liberty.” In the “balcony” scene (though there really isn’t any balcony), she is locked in her window. But look at the stage direction from 2.6, which is when they get married:

Enter Juliet somewhat fast and embraces Romeo.

She comes in running and immediately hugs Romeo because she is finally free to move. So after gaining some agency through their love, she is not ready to let the friar “dispose” of her “among a sisterhood of holy nuns” in the last scene. I’m inclined to read the play as the lovers’ attempt to assert themselves in a society that doesn’t care about them. They try to build new, private identities that do not match their public roles. I will not say they used each other because of the negative connotations of the word, but I will definitely say that they took advantage of their relationship to explore their real selves and figure out what they really wanted to be, and not what their relatives wanted.

I can’t see how anyone could claim that Juliet used him when she is so tenderly in love. In the balcony scene she feels like she will have to wait for “twenty years” to receive Romeo’s news when she’s actually going to send the Nurse for him at nine o’clock in the morning. When she realizes the night is nearly over, she lets him go, but “no further than a wanton’s bird.” She literally fears she would kill him “with much cherishing” because she has too much love to give. She actually feels like her affection is endless: “My bounty is as boundless as the sea, / My love as deep; the more I give to thee / The more I have, for both are infinite.” It makes her feel so rich she “cannot sum up sum of half” her wealth. She complains that “love’s heralds should be thoughts / Which ten times faster glide than the sun’s beams.” She wishes her thoughts and Romeo’s could communicate instantly because the Nurse fails at being “as swift in motion as a ball.” (Notice how she is talking about thoughts here. There’s a lot more than physical desire going on between Romeo and Juliet.) She is so happy to be with him that she pretends it was the nightingale singing. And then there’s the kind of metaphors she creates for him. They are tender and loving. The Nurse says she has been making puns out of the similarities between Romeo’s name and ‘rosemary’. Can you get any more ridiculously sentimental than that? He is her “sweet”, the “god of my idolatry”. She thinks that “every tongue that speaks / But Romeo’s name speaks heavenly eloquence” because he is literally perfect: “So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called / Retain that dear perfection which he owes / Without that title.”

I would also like to stress that she is very protective of him. Romeo is a scared child who needs as much help as her. She does her best to free him from the constraints of their world. Picking up again the pilgrim/saint motif from their first conversation, Romeo asks Juliet to “call me but love and I’ll be new baptized.” From that moment on there will be two Romeos: Montague’s heir and her Romeo. Look at this dialogue between the Nurse and Juliet:

Nurse: Will you speak well of him that killed your cousin?Juliet: Shall I speak ill of him that is my husband?

She knows Romeo’s real, private identity depends on her. If she leaves his side, her Romeo will fade away and the feud will take over his existence. What makes her drink the friar’s potion, after having expressed all her fears, is the thought of Tybalt’s ghost haunting Romeo. She is afraid that Tybalt, who is one of the major exponents of toxic masculinity, violence, and rage, will destroy Romeo if she doesn’t prevent it.

O, look! Methinks I see my cousin’s ghostSeeking out Romeo, that did spit his bodyUpon a rapier’s point. Stay, Tybalt, stay!Romeo, I come! This do I drink to thee.

Her fierce protectiveness is present all along. “I would not for the world they saw thee here,” she’d do anything to prevent her family from hurting him. She stands up for him when the Nurse criticizes him: “He was not born to shame. / Upon his brow shamed is ashamed to sit, / For ‘tis a throne where honour may be crown’d / Sole monarch of the universal earth.” I can’t imagine anything she wouldn’t do to keep Romeo safe and loved: “Things that, to hear them told, have made me tremble; / And I will do it without fear or doubt, / To live an unstain’d wife to my sweet love.”When her mother confesses her plans to poison him, Juliet wittingly offers to prepare the venom herself, making her mother believe that she wants to kill him when she is actually saving his life:

Madam, if you could find out but a manTo bear a poison, I would temper it;That Romeo should, upon receipt thereof,Soon sleep in quiet. 

And then they subvert a lot of patriarchal norms: It’s Romeo who rejects his name, though he never asks the same from her. They consummate their marriage in Juliet’s bed (I read some critic say that Juliet brings Romeo to her “sexual territory” lmao) and finally, Romeo kills himself in the crypt of her wife’s family rather than in that of his own father. I think this is perfectly conveyed in the last dialogue of the play:

Montague: For I will raise her statue in pure gold;That while Verona by that name is known,There shall no figure at such rate be setAs that of true and faithful Juliet.Capulet:  As rich shall Romeo’s by his lady’s lie;Poor sacrifices of our enmity!

Juliet is the center of their conversation. While she will be raised in pure gold and everyone will praise her, Romeo’s merit seems to be that he will lie by her side. Shakespeare acknowledges the importance of Juliet’s character again by ending the play with the words “Juliet and her Romeo.” Which doesn’t mean that Romeo is a fool that agrees with everything that Juliet says. He sometimes disagrees with her. (Remember, for example, when Juliet wanted to take it slow in the balcony scene. He answers, “O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?”. More on that here. Another interesting part is when he agrees to stay with her after the nightingale vs. lark debate, though he still doesn’t believe that she is right. He knows what Juliet is asking for is wrong: “Come, death, and welcome! Juliet wills it so”). I would actually say they’re equals. In fact, they are introduced as “a pair of star-crossed lovers” who “take their life”, not lives, as if to emphasize their alliance and their oneness. Romeo states that his love for Juliet is equal to hers: “My heart’s dear love is set / On the fair daughter of rich Capulet, / As mine on hers, so hers is set on mine, / And all combined, save what thou must combine / By holy marriage.” To him, true love consists of a mutual exchange of affection: “Her I love now / Doth grace for grace and love for love allow.” The chorus claims that Juliet is “as much in love, her means less,” which leads me to believe that the play presents the lovers as internally equal and socially unequal, as this post explains here. Lastly, their parents promise to build equal monuments for both of them. Romeo’s statue will be “as rich” as Juliet’s. It is as if after all the wrong they did, they are finally ready to honor them justly.

I think that while Juliet suffers because of her lack of agency, Romeo suffers because socially speaking he has too much agency (and he will have even more once he inherits his father’s possessions). He basically couldn’t care less about his responsibilities as Montague’s heir. Look at his attitude in the first scene:

O me! What fray was here?Yet tell me not, for I have heard it all.

The heir of the Montague house doesn’t even want to know what happened. Later on he will attempt to kill himself in order to get rid of his name: “O, tell me, friar, tell me, / In what vile part of this anatomy / Doth my name lodge? Tell me, that I may sack / The hateful mansion.” On the contrary, Juliet’s perception of the world revitalizes him as she believes that his real identity doesn’t depend on his name. So of course he will describe her as “a rich jewel” hanging in “the cheek of night”, of course he thinks she would “shame those stars / As daylight doth a lamp” if she were in the sky. Of course Juliet is capable of bringing him back to life in his dreams. He clings to her in the same way she clings to him because she instroduces him to a purer side of life. She becomes his home: “And I’ll still stay to have thee still forget, / Forgetting any other home but this.” It’s the pleasure of talking to her that he loves: “How is’t, my soul? Let’s talk; it is not day.” They transcend the restraints of their society with the freedom of their love. Look at Romeo’s words:

With love’s light wings did I o'er-perch these walls;For stony limits cannot hold love out,And what love can do that dares love attempt;Therefore thy kinsmen are no stop to me.

(I think that passage is quite relevant nowadays, since prejudice and hate are inspiring people to build walls and ban innocent souls from coming in. Romeo might be overly sentimental, but the thing is he just wants to get rid of the hate that’s been imposed on him and turn it into love. And that’s not silly or ‘dumb’. Not when you live in a world where hate is accepted and love is seen as a shameful feeling. Romeo refuses to be stopped by those who want to harm him out of hate.)

It’s not that kind of love story where the characters get their happy ending after overcoming some obstacles. We know Romeo and Juliet are sentenced to die from the first lines of the play. The prologue tells us we are going to sit there for two hours to watch them fall. We don’t know how it’s going to happen, but we know it will somehow. And I think part of the point is this: People can’t be happy if their society doesn’t support them. They can’t be free if they are forced into violence, in Romeo’s case, and passivity, in Juliet’s case. It’s the story of two children who try their hardest to become what they want to be, and they do so with each other’s help. But they fail because they are left alone. They die because they cannot live without each other. They cannot live without each other because nobody else can help them. Nobody else can help them because their society is sick. It’s a love story that exposes the problems of a toxic environment.

As for the genre, it’s something that has been up for debate for centuries. Some say it’s a tragedy. Some say it shares some characteristics common of comedies. Indeed, you could argue that the play follows the pattern of a comedy up until Mercutio’s death. It really depends on how you want to look at it. Romeo and Juliet die, but the feud dies as well. Capulet and Montague assure that there will be no more hate in Verona. So you could say that Friar Laurence’s wishes are fulfilled. The lovers, the “poor sacrifices”, turn their households’ rancor “to pure love.” Love wins. They fix their world. There will be no more violence. But the ending is evidently still tragic as the young lovers lose their lives. I would say it’s both a pessimistic and optimistic story at the same time.

This post is getting too long, but I could go on. Come back to the ask box if you have any question!