#after abandoning her in her greatest time of need

[dirtytransmasc]

no one spoke for or protected Rhaenyra from the court like Alicent. Alicent protected her claim until she made herself a threat to her children, and even then showed her the most mercy and care out of anyone. sometimes Alicent did more to protect her than Rhaenyra did herself, and most certainly more than anyone had ever tried to do for her.

[bodybaggage]

Phantom in the League

---

The Watchtower hummed with its usual low energy, the heartbeat of Earth's greatest defenders. The Justice League had just wrapped up their latest meeting, discussing the increasing dimensional rifts appearing across the globe. Batman, ever the detective, had been the first to suggest the possibility of a more mystical cause. Naturally, the League looked to Zatanna and Constantine for guidance. But before they could dive too deep, another voice cut through.

"We could always ask Phantom."

Superman’s suggestion was simple, straightforward, and met with a few curious looks. The Kryptonian had always been one to trust his teammates, but Phantom’s origins had been one of the best-kept secrets in the League. Phantom, the young yet mysterious ghostly hero, had been a valuable ally since he’d been recruited after saving Star City from a rampant ghost attack nearly a year ago.

The League had grown used to his presence. His ethereal glow, the way he seemed to fade in and out of sight like a wisp of smoke, and the cryptic smile that often played on his lips. He was a mystery, one they had chosen to respect, but now? Now, they needed answers.

"Do we even know where to find him?" Green Lantern asked, hovering a few inches off the ground. "He just… shows up."

"I can find him," Batman declared, his voice a low growl that brooked no argument. "He can't stay hidden forever."

"He's never been a threat, Bats," Flash pointed out, leaning casually against the conference table. "He's just… Phantom. He helps out, doesn't ask for anything in return, then he's gone."

"That might be true, but we need to know who or what we’re dealing with," Wonder Woman added. "If these dimensional rifts are tied to his abilities or his world, we need to be prepared."

Superman nodded in agreement, his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Let’s just ask him directly. If he trusts us enough to fight alongside us, then he’ll trust us with the truth."

---

Phantom had never been easy to track, but Batman had his ways. And when Batman wanted to find someone, he did.

The Batcomputer pinged with a soft alert as he isolated Phantom’s spectral energy signature, something the Dark Knight had painstakingly compiled over the past few months. It was faint, almost undetectable, but there was enough to trace a general location: an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Gotham. Fittingly enough.

---

When the League arrived at the warehouse, it was eerily silent. The only sign of life—or unlife—was a soft, pulsing green light emanating from the cracks in the walls. Superman could hear the faintest murmur of voices, and Wonder Woman felt the magical energy in the air thickening, almost like stepping into another world.

“Stay on guard,” Batman instructed, though he knew everyone was already on high alert.

They pushed open the rusted doors, revealing a scene none of them had expected. Phantom was there, hovering mid-air, his back to them. But he wasn’t alone. Standing before him was a massive, imposing figure, crowned with a spectral crown and draped in regal, ghostly armor. The very air around the figure crackled with power—power that seemed to warp reality itself.

"Who the hell is that?" Green Lantern whispered, his ring already flaring to life.

"That's Pariah Dark," Phantom’s voice cut through the silence, clear and calm. He turned slowly, his eyes glowing a vivid green. "The former Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

“Former?” Wonder Woman questioned, her brow furrowed in concern.

“Yes,” Phantom continued, descending to the ground as he spoke. “He’s no longer the king because… I am.”

The League froze. Superman’s eyes widened slightly, and even Batman seemed taken aback, though he quickly masked it. The implication was massive.

Phantom noticed their reactions and sighed, looking almost tired. “I was hoping to keep this quiet, at least until the time was right. But I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

He walked forward, the green glow around him dimming as he shifted from his ghostly form into that of a human boy—one who looked no older than seventeen. His black hair fell into his face as he offered them a weary smile, his bright blue eyes meeting theirs with surprising warmth.

“My name is Danny. Danny Fenton. And, yes, I’m the current King of the Infinite Realms.”

“The Infinite Realms?” Superman asked, though the name already resonated with him. He had heard of it before—an interdimensional realm of ghosts and spirits, a place of both immense power and danger.

Danny nodded. “It’s… complicated. The realms are like a web of dimensions, all interconnected and constantly shifting. I inherited the throne after defeating Pariah Dark.” He gestured towards the massive ghost, who remained silent, his eyes glowing with an eerie intensity. “It wasn’t exactly by choice, but it’s my responsibility now.”

“So, you’re a king,” Flash summed up, trying to wrap his head around it. “And you’ve been, what? Just hanging out with us, fighting bad guys on Earth?”

Danny chuckled, a sound that held a hint of bitterness. “Pretty much. The Infinite Realms are my duty, but Earth… Earth is my home. I couldn’t just abandon it, not with everything that’s happened.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Wonder Woman asked, her tone gentle but firm.

Danny hesitated, his gaze falling to the ground. “I didn’t want you to see me differently. I’m still me, still the same guy who fought alongside you. I just… have a lot more on my plate than most.”

“Kid,” Green Lantern said, lowering his ring, “we’ve all got our secrets. But this? This is big. You could have told us.”

“I know,” Danny admitted, his voice soft. “But I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want to bring my problems into your world. But with these rifts appearing… they might be connected to the Realms, and that means it’s my responsibility to fix it.”

Batman stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Danny’s. “And Pariah Dark?”

The ghost king finally spoke, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to echo through the very fabric of reality. “I am here at the behest of my king. I no longer seek to conquer. My past… transgressions have been put aside.”

Danny glanced at Pariah, his expression unreadable. “Pariah Dark is… complicated. But he’s under control. I’m keeping him in check.”

There was a moment of tense silence before Superman spoke, his voice carrying the authority of a leader but the warmth of a friend. “Danny, we’re a team. We face these challenges together. If the Realms are a threat, we’ll help you. But you need to trust us, just like we trust you.”

Danny looked up, meeting Superman’s gaze, and for the first time, he truly felt like a part of something bigger. Not just a king, not just a hero, but a member of the Justice League.

“Okay,” Danny agreed, his voice firm. “I’ll tell you everything. And together, we’ll stop whatever’s threatening both of our worlds.”

The League nodded in unison, the tension slowly dissipating. They were in this together, just as they had always been.

As they prepared to leave, Danny couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The burden of his secret was still heavy, but now he wasn’t carrying it alone. For the first time in a long while, he felt like he truly belonged.

And as the Watchtower’s doors closed behind them, Danny knew that whatever came next, he wouldn’t have to face it alone.

pt.2

---

[voidpumpkin]

A definite theme of dungeon meshi is that of selfishness and selflessness with pretty much every character defined by these two things in some way

most obviously there's the winged lion who's entire existence is defined by selfishness, he just consumes, consumes and consumes, ruining everybody, with labyrinth he is bound to and he himself encouraging and shaping the selfish and selfless desires of others. His greatest desire, to consume everybody is the ultimate act of selfishness in the series yet he frames it as and pretty genuinely views it as an act of great selflessness, which is part of another theme in the show of people imposing their selfless desires on to other people.

As can be seen with Marcille, from the beginning she is shown as the most outwardly selfless, she's the one always wanting to help other adventurers, aside from Laios the loudest advocate for rescuing Falin, resents Namari for abandoning Falin and is shocked to find out Chilchuck is doing this because he is being paid. She's the one who crosses all moral and ethical barriers to save Falin, to defeat the dungeon rabbits. And then we see how she has the greatest most all encompassing desire of them all, to equal everyone's lifespan to one thousand with a selfless motive behind it, that it will erase bigotry between races. The selflessness of it is something she is almost proud, she's insulted and very insistent that she doesn't want more selfish desire like having a child or becoming a full blooded elf. Yet this selfless desire comes from a selfish place of never wanting to experience loss and is a desire (with the winged lions help) becomes one she seeks to impose on others

Similarly to Thistle who is THE example of how selfless desires become twisted and selfish by the dungeon as he original wanted to protect the kingdom and makes sure they live forever, though even then this was a selfish desire imposed upon him by Delgal. Now after a thousand years of running the dungeon he is all selfishness that he views as selflessness.

Then there is the other notable former dungeon master, Mithrun. Once viewed as a pure and selfless man by those around him he harboured countless selfish desires that the demon exploited and consumed, leaving him with what he and others thought was just the desire for revenge. A selfish desire that manifested in a selfless form as he puts his life on the line to rid the world from demons. It's through this we see one of his most interesting traits, his sincere desire to reach out and help other dungeon masters, compared to all other interactions he is never this gentle or talkative with them, the other canaries quite clearly just want to kill them, but Mithrun, one of the very few people who can understand what they're going through talks to them. By the end of the series we also come to know that his selfish desire for revenge was in fact an entirely different selfish desire, to be consumed.

Not on to Izutsumi, she's a character defined by her selfishness, as a result of her upbringing she has to rely on and care for only herself but then she becomes a part of the touden party and is put in a caring environment for the first time, and in response grows to genuinely care for them as well, risking her life in ways she wouldn't have done before. Izutsumi acts as a pretty potent example of the crews selflessness with all of them (except Laios, who they defend her from his monster fixation) acting as parents to her. Marcille gives her the love and affection, both emotional and physical that she'd never received up until that point, and didn't even know she needed. Chilchuckvis the only one with actual experience as a parents and only parental figure who has treated Izutsumi well, he pretty quickly realises she is acting like a teenage girl and quickly adjusts to treating and caring for her as such. Sensei, who is pretty much all paternal instincts cares for her the only way he knows how and is the first person to adjust meals to her needs and desires. Izutsumi can be seen as a demonstration of environments shaping a person, her formative years being treated terribly made her selfish whilst this new caring environment allowed her to become selfless for the first time.

Building off the paternal instincts comment from earlier, that one of the two things that define senshi's selflessness. Sensei is both a deeply mature and deeply selfless character, as a result his selflessness comes in more casual and more adult forms. In respecting the autonomy of others and providing them with food. With these drawing from the two things mentioned earlier, his paternal instincts but also his experiences with starvation. His paternal instincts are best shown in the chapter after Falin is taken as we see inside his head, seeing he views Chilchuck and Marcille as very young and that it is his responsibility to feed them, and considered it a failing on his part if he doesn't. This paternal instinct also is what leads him to secretly resent Laios and Marcille as he believes Chilchuck to be a child and views them as exploiting him and putting him in harms way. His focus on feeding others is of course a result of his experience with starvation, he NEVER wants anyone to go through what he went through and is THE way we see him caring for people outside of the Touden party

Next up Chilchuck, a character who at first seems to be a deeply selfish ones, as he journeys with the group because he is paid to, not because he wants to. But then we do come to respect this, as dungeoneering is a job, a very dangerous one that, and like all jobs it deserves proper compnesation. Which is something he actively tries to facilitate in one of his greatest acts of selflessness, where after having experienced the selfishness of other races and their willingness to use half-foots as bait, he starts a union to ensure proper pay and workers rights for half-foots. Though rather interestingly our first exposure to it is through the deeply selfish Mikbell, who frames what Chilchuck is doing as an act of selfishness. We also soon understand that he deeply cares about his friends, more than even he wants to as he continues to travel with them even when the job is technically done. This does result in a moment of selfless/selfish desire as he seeks to trick the group into leaving falin behind because he genuinely cares about then, he thinks they're in over their head and wants to protect them, again selfless desire that is selfish, though he does come to respect their wishes.

Speaking of Falin. cause of her minimal time to be a character we're left what screen time she gets and that's a character defined by her selflessness, from her communication with ghosts, being framed as a mothrrly figure to Thistle and the acted that began the series, sacrificing her life to save the crew, and would define how they act going forward.

For Namari it caused her to leave and take up the better offers she'd received. A selfish act that Marcille in particular resents her for but is explained by both her backstory, she is trying to buy back the honour her father stole, which would hopefully repair the relationship between the Lord of the island and dwarves, a selfless act, and the establishment of dungeoneering as a dangerous job that deserves compensation, which is why Laios and Chilchuck who do view it as a job don't resent her while Marcille who doesn't view it as a job (a. she's very open about not viewing dungeoneering as a career b. ancient magic research is her goal, thus the particularities of dungeoneering never mattered to her) does resent her. We do see other moments of selflessness from wanting to know Kiki and Kaka's age so she can identify them if they need resurrecting and standing up for Laios. Namari's character is one meant to show selfishness, especially when your life is one the line, is not inherently immoral.

The other crew member who left as a result of Falin's death is Toshiro (Shuro), who immediately goes off to find a strong crew he is hopeful can make it through the dungeon as fast a possible to rescue Falin. In opposition to Namari he is someone who chooses selflessness over this own life, running himself ragged to save her, but it is this focus on her other his needs that causes him to fail, running yourself ragged will leave you unable to succeed, as demonstrated to him by Laios. Laios is a man he resents for various reasons but one of them being that he doesn't see Laios as sincere in his care, that he doesn't express his selflessness in a 'proper' way. That his happy go lucky attitude and focus on keeping himself health are proof that he doesn't care, when in actuality a) that's just who laios is b) Laios looking after himself is a form of selflessness because how can one help others if they can't even stand.

Laios sits in the middle of selfishness and selflessness, defined in equal parts by them. He is completely sincere and dedicated to his selflessness, willing to risk his life and go it alone to save Falin, he seeks non-violent solutions to deal with his human enemies, wanting to talk to Thistle and get him to respect the citizens of the golden kingdom's wishes and doing the same with Marcille alongside working to defeat the winged lion and putting himself on the line to do so, as well as becoming the king of the golden kingdom, which he clearly doesn't want. yet he also has a lot of selfish desires because of this and being an extremely autistic dude with basically no social skills he's viewed as worse than he is, both on his and other's fault. He loves monsters and his entire life is defined by his obsession with them, this obsession spawned from a resentment of humans how they treated his sister (he got over it, he was a teen). He seeks to examine Izutsumi, and while he means no disrespect or anything gross by it, she is a teenager and has some pretty serious trauma surrounding being treated as a circus animal. He disrespects Lycion's treatment to his suicidal body dysmorphia because it's a 'skin deep' appreciation of monsters. He views saving Falin as an opportunity to finally consume monsters, his selfish desires and his willingness to express then when it really isn't an oppurtune time to do so (dude, your sister's life is on the line) mean he is taken at his worst, viewed as literally villain by Kabru and the canaries. Laios as the protagonist of story with pretty clear themes of selflessness and selfishness shows one who is outwardly a very selfish person yet the moment you stop to look is a deeply deeply selfless person, even if he is bad communicating.

This brings us to his foil Kabru. Kabru pretty clearly defines himself by his selflessness, viewing himself as superior for it, believing he should be the one to conquer the dungeon and that Laios is unworthy based on his shallow understanding of him. This selflessness is further deconstructed as something very bad for him as similarly to Toshiro is clearly doesn't value himself like he should, not allowing himself to have selfish desires, with it being pretty clear this worldview is shaped by his childhood trauma, of seeing what the dungeon can do, his survivors guilt and believing he has a duty to prevent it. This brings him into interesting conflict with Mithrun and Laios. The former is someone is a person who literally cannot care for himself and must rely on others to do that for him. His lack of care for himself, unawareness of his own needs astounds Kabru, rather ironically considering Kabru's lack of focus on his own and his focus on Mithrun, who is noted to be looking better than usual thanks to Kabru's treatment by Lycion, indeed his focus on analysing and understanding other people in general can be seen as a form of his selflessness/care for others at his expense. The latter is a person who confounds Kabru, Laios is the first person who Kabru cannot understand, the first person he can't just casually befriend one so utterly antithetical to his own interests as Laios is fixated and loves the very thing Kabru is horrified by, monsters. This also shows arguably the biggest example of Kabru valuing others, his selflessness at his own expense when eats the monster food Laios offered him, looking like he might die as he does so. This horror and confusion causes him become fixated on Laios, he is a puzzle Kabru must solve, but also because of Kabru's views on monsters, selfishness and selflessness he views Laios as an active and terrifying threat that must be stopped. But underlying this is what Kabru refuses to acknowledge until he confronts Laios next time they meet, he wants to befriend Laios, something that horroifies himself, both cause this is Laios, but this is a selfish desire. Admitting to Laios is an admission to himself that he has a selfish desire and that maybe just maybe that isn't so bad and that doesn't make him a lesser person. This acknowledgment that desires are part of who you are is what allows him to reach Mithrun, Kabru developed a new desire, to befriend Laios and thus Mithrun can too. Kabru is very potent foil to Laios, a character defined by selfish desires and seen as dangerous because of them when in fact he is deeply deeply selfless, as he is character who looks down on selfish desire and values selflessness to his own expense, only to learn through Laios that selfish desires are not inherently bad, thus allowing Kabru to help others even more.

And last but not least is elves as a whole and in particular the canaries. Elves are this selflessness and selfishness theme on a societal scale as their racial paternalism means they view it is their duty to look after races whilst also not respecting them or their autonomy and this causing great harm, with the canaries and Milsiril being microcosims of this. The canaries are a force tasked with stopping dungeons a selfless act, though motives selfish as while some clearly do it to save lives, it's established that one of the reasons they do so is to get their hands on the ancient magic inside and their racial paternalism means they don't trust other races to know the secret of dungeons, which almost dooms everybody. We also see how many of the members of it are criminals, who quite frankly are selfish cunts, really racist to non elves and are more than willing to put shorter lived races in harms way to get what they want. Milsiril is this racial paternalism embodied, as she's dedicated her life to looking after children of other races, a selfless desire, but she clearly doesn't see them quite as equals with there also being the implication that this is the result of a selfish desire to deal with her own loneliness.

Desire is a key theme in dungeon meshi with selflessness and selfish being the accompaniment to it that really makes so much it so potent.

[penkura]

where you belong [1/10]

Summary: As Luffy's big sister, you've viewed it to be your job to see him become King of the Pirates in place of your absent parents, even as you try to find where it is you belong in the world. You never really expected to draw the attention of Trafalgar Law in the process.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Warnings: Discussion of feelings of abandonment, age gap relationship (four years), brief secret relationship, mentions and heavy refences to sex, mentions of alcohol, typical One Piece stuff. Other warnings to be added if needed.

Notes: Hi, it's me again! Another fanfic here for you all! When this goes up, I'll be on my last day of vacation before I fly home, so I hope that you'll enjoy this! I know Straw Hat Reader x Law is popular, and I wanted to write my own, but with the Reader being Luffy's biological older sister. So for this, Reader is three years older than Luffy, 20 at the start and 22 after the timeskip, making Law four years older. I personally like older men, and age gap fics are just delicious reading material for me (within reason, nothing illegal).

Note 2: This is NOT the Law with vitiligo series. That one is actively being planned but will be separate from this one.

“And I’m gonna be King of the Pirates!!”

Luffy standing your tiny dingy boat worries you a little, but you still grin at him and nod.

“Hell yeah you will be!”

“Your turn! What’re you gonna do while we sail??”

Rolling your eyes, you make Luffy sit down while you stand up.

“Easy. I’m gonna chronicle your journey and write the greatest story ever told!”

Your younger brother watches you, tilting his head when you don’t continue. He believes there has to be more you want out of life, and tries to make you say what else is in your plans, what you have on your mind.

“And?”

Taking a breath, you nod. Of course he knew you had more, it’s Luffy, he’s been by your since he was just a few weeks old. Things you’ve said over time, to him and Ace, they’d both known for a long time what you’ve always wanted to find once you went out to sea.

“And find where it is I belong.”

+!+

Your arrival in Sabaody was a trip, in more than one way. You'd been excited to explore the place, hoping you could pawn your younger brother off on Camie, Pappag, and the others so you could have some time on your own to shop the stalls, maybe with Nami and Robin, turn it into a girl’s day. Of course, though, nothing could be so easy when your brother is the captain of the Straw Hats. You all find yourselves at the human auction hall, Nami willing to spend all the money possible to save Camie, but it makes you itchy while being there. You cringe to think about the things that happened in this place, how many people had been sold to Celestial Dragons. Your and Luffy's loss of Sabo due to the actions of one had severely soured your opinions on them.

You scan the crowd in the auction house, scratching at your arms which never seem to calm down while the rest of your crew discusses their plan to save Camie, and you end up locking eyes with another pirate captain there, unknown to you at that moment but somehow familiar.

A furry white, spotted hat, dark hair you can barely see, oddly enough you think his facial hair is attractive, and those yellow eyes that you almost would believe see right through you.

Trafalgar Law simply stares at you, realizing you’re a Straw Hat when he recognizes the rest of your crewmates. After a moment of fidgeting slightly you give him a nervous smile and a wave, which he returns with a nod before turning back to the auction stage as they continue to call bids on people.

Weird girl.

Strange guy.

Although she’s busy watching for Camie to be brought out, Nami still leans into you when you pull on her sleeve and start to whisper. “You see that guy in the white spotted hat?”

“What about him?”

“I think he’s Trafalgar Law, captain of the Heart Pirates. He’s more attractive than his poster makes him.”

Rolling her eyes, Nami pulls her arm away from you. “I don’t have time for you to be horny about some guy.”

“Wha—Nami!! I’m not! I’m just saying.”

She doesn’t listen to you anymore, focusing back on waiting for Camie and sending you to watch for Luffy, just so you don’t get distracted by the attractive enemy captain and defect to another crew.

You swear you never will, but do as you’re told to watch for your brother. Maybe one day you’ll get to properly meet Law, you’re quite curious about the young man.

+!+

“Another one?! Are you kidding me, Dragon?!”

You’re three years old when you wake up to your grandfather yelling at someone in the middle of the night. Normally Garp is sure to keep things quiet so you, his sweet little princess angel granddaughter, can sleep peacefully. He’d leave early in the morning once your nanny showed up for the day, returning before dinner so he had the evenings with you before you had to be off to bed, to do the day over again the next morning. It’s rare for you to stay up late or wake up early, but the few mornings you’ve woken up before he left were some of Garp’s favorites.

You quietly slip out of your bed, blanket in your hand as you rub your eyes and go to the door, opening it just enough to see what’s happening. Garp is there with someone in a green cloak, you can’t see the other person’s face, but listen anyway.

“He’s the last one, there won’t be anymore.”

“You said [Y/N] was going to be the only one!”

“Things happened.”

“Obviously something happened, babies don’t appear out of thin air!’

You tilt your head, the man in the cloak catching your eye, which makes you shy away behind your doorway, glancing away before back to him as he looks to Garp again.

“Take care of them.” He goes to leave and is gone before Garp can even stop him.

“Dragon, wait--! That…damn idiot.”

“Grandpa?”

Garp is surprised to hear your voice, turning around once he closes the door, giving you a smile while you start to focus on the bundle he's holding.

“Hey there, princess, what are you doing up?”

“I heard yelling…”

Nodding, Garp apologizes as he picks you up, letting you settle on his free arm. “Sorry about that, angel. Just… an unexpected visitor.”

“Oh…”

Garp sees you staring more at the bundle of blankets in his arm than at him, and he sighs a bit, taking you to the living room and setting you on the couch, before showing you how to position your arms as he sets the now squirming bundle in your arms.

“[Y/N], this is your baby brother. His name is Luffy.”

How unexpected! You’ve never thought about having a sibling, just enjoying your childhood and life with your grandpa, but seeing this tiny little boy in your just as small arms makes you grin while you look at him. Dark black hair and just as dark eyes, scrunched up little face and tiny hands in fists while he starts to fuss and whine.

“Luffy…”

+!+

Luffy…

You hope your prayers aren’t going unheard, that Luffy will return to you safely. Ace’s death has long passed, but you’re more worried about your little brother than anything else right now. You’d both been sent off to Amazon Lily by Kuma, but after they’d all agreed to let you both stay, and Boa Hancock seems to have fallen in love with him, Luffy left you there to go rescue Ace, that was nearly three weeks ago now, you think. You want him back, both of them, but want to see Luffy more than anyone else.

“Luffy’s returned, [Y/N]-san!”

“He has?!”

Marguerite nods and you quickly get up from your seat and run after her to wherever Luffy is. The newspapers kept implying he was dead, you were terrified you’d lost him and Ace that day, no updates from anyone apart from the papers cheering for the Navy’s alleged victory, for the deaths of Ace and Whitebeard. The Amazons, all so kind to let you stay while Luffy went to try and rescue Ace, were unsure of how to help you the last two weeks once Ace’s vivre card burned to nothing in your hands and made you nearly inconsolable.

Despite that, your prayers hadn’t gone unheard.

Once you’re at the beach that Luffy should be at, you notice immediately the big yellow submarine with the word DEATH on it and it freaks you out more than anything. You don’t know who owns it, but when you catch sight of someone you’ve only seen in person once, you worry that he’s done something to Luffy. You don’t say a word, but someone in a jumpsuit (boiler suit you think?) calls out “captain” just in time for him to turn towards you as you shove the older boy to the ground, placing yourself on top of him and your knife to his neck.

Part of you wishes it was poisoned right now, just in case this Trafalgar Law has done something to your brother.

“Where’s Luffy?!”

The knife you have at his neck doesn’t phase Law even a tiny bit, it’s the fact that someone so much shorter and smaller than him was able to catch him off guard and shove him to the ground the way you did. You’re angry for some reason, giving him a nasty glare but look like you’re about to cry on top of it, as he just stares at you, his crewmembers shouting for you to get off their captain before he raises a hand to stop them.

“Who—”

“Tell me, where is my brother?!”

Oh so that’s what’s wrong, that’s who you are. Whether you’re related to Luffy by blood or by ritual cup like Ace was, Law doesn’t know, but he’s sure you want reassurance you haven’t lost two brothers in one day.

“Are you [Y/N]?”

You turn your head to look over your shoulder at Jinbei, still glaring. “Who’s asking?!”

“I was friends with your brother Ace, he told me about you and Luffy while we were in Impel Down.”

“He…did?”

You’ve calmed down so quickly hearing Ace’s name, retracting your knife just slightly, while Jinbei explains things to you. You don’t move off of Law though, listening quietly, fighting the desire to cry more. You’ve done enough of that, you don’t want to anymore today.

Law doesn’t even try to move you off, knowing, like Luffy, you’re emotionally hurting right now. He doesn’t want to risk you slicing his neck either, even as Jinbei finishes telling you everything Ace did, and you still don’t move or look at Law.

“Ace hopes you find what you’re looking for.”

You clench your jaw a bit at first, before smiling sadly and nodding, thanking Jinbei for the information before Law speaks up.

“If you get off me, I can take you to Straw Hat-ya.” 

You blink, finally looking back to Law, and you feel your face burn with a blush when you realize your position and scramble to get off him, apologizing the whole way while he shakes his head. Once he’s on his feet, Law let’s you onto the Polar Tang and leads you down the hallway to the infirmary, updating you on Luffy’s condition the best he can with the knowledge he has.

“If he pulls through this, the most you’ll have to worry about is his mental health.”

“Mm.” You nod, grabbing Law’s arm as he stops to open a door, making him look back at you. “I apologize for shoving you down.”

“I’ve been through worse,” Law shrugs, you could tell just from looking at him, though he does smirk a bit at you, “Never had a girl push me down and hold a poisoned knife to my neck before though.”

“It wasn’t poisoned,” you almost shout, but keep your voice down to not wake Luffy, “…this time…”

He almost laughs, but when you see Luffy finally, you’re instantly but his side, taking his hand and trying to keep yourself from crying seeing him in such a state. He’d been injured badly before, but never like this, never this close to death.

“Luffy…oh Luffy, I’m here, Lu,” you brush his bangs away from his face before kissing his forehead, “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I should’ve come with you…”

Law doesn’t bother you for the next several minutes, stepping out so you have some privacy while you make sure Luffy is all right, your quiet prayers that he wakes soon and heals quickly don’t go unheard by the surgeon of death, who thinks back to his own sister and the prayers he’d once prayed for her health as a child.

As an older sibling, he gets it. While he still doesn’t know yet if you’re related by blood or sworn siblings, he does see how much you care for Luffy, and for your sake he hopes your captain wakes sooner rather than later.

+!+

You spend the next two weeks in and out of the Polar Tang, checking on Luffy and praying over him to wake soon, Law being the one to take you in and lead you back out most of the time, even though you’ve memorized the path already. The next time you leave Luffy to continue recovering, the friends you and Luffy have made from Amazon Lily have shown up in the time you’ve been with him, bringing food and drinks for you all. As you walk over to where he’s seated, Law offers you a drink that you reject with a shake of your head, sitting on the other side of the tree and bringing your knees up to your chest, hiding your face in them.

“Any signs he’s waking up?”

Shaking your head, you sigh and lean back, looking at the people around to distract yourself from worrying over Luffy.

“That your crew?”

“Yep. All twenty of them.”

You smile a bit, watching the Heart Pirates goof off while some have their meal and share drinks. It almost reminds you of the Straw Hats and makes your heart ache from missing them deeply.

“You have a nice group there.”

“They can be a handful.”

It makes you laugh a bit, nodding before you decide to stop wallowing and get back up, standing beside Law where he stays seated.

“Think you should hold this for now.”

Law tosses Luffy’s straw hat to you, and you grit your teeth a bit while you stare at it. You had wondered where it was, seeing it wasn’t around when you were with Luffy. You hold nothing but the highest regards for Shanks, he'd been an inspiration for you and Luffy when you were children, he helped end the war and helped Law save Luffy, but how you wish he’d shown up sooner. Maybe he could’ve helped Ace too.

“Thank you, for holding this.”

“Seems important to him, he’s not Straw Hat-ya without it.”

Smiling a bit, you nod. “He’s certainly not.”

“How do you—”

“I’m his big sister. I was three when our dad dropped him off with me and grandpa. We’ve been together almost every day since.”

“I see.”

You’re not entirely sure you trust Law, despite his saving Luffy, but you’re willing to give him a shot. At least let him know a bit about your history with Ace too, since he'd been there when you hadn’t been. Where Luffy asked you not to go.

“We met Ace and another boy when I was ten, and become sworn siblings with them soon after. The other boy died a few months later,” you grip the straw hat a bit tighter, but loosen your hold after being stabbed in the hand by sharp bits of straw, “a Celestial Dragon did it, we’ve not been fans of them since, so Luffy punching that one in Sabaody felt like some payback.”

“That makes sense.”

After a few minutes of silence, you finally realize something and turn to Law, sticking your hand out for him.

“Never introduced myself. Monkey D. [Y/N]. I don’t really use my last name though.”

Law takes your hand after a moment, nodding. “Trafalgar Law.”

“Thank you for saving my baby brother.”

“Don’t thank me until he wakes up.”

As if almost on cue, the door comes flying off the Polar Tang and you both whip your heads over, Law running ahead of you as you follow, and Luffy’s the next thing to almost fly out of the ship.

“Luffy!!”

You’re about to run to him before Law grabs hold of your arm, pulling you to himself and holding you still, even while you thrash around and listen to Luffy call for Ace. It breaks your heart to see him so upset, and you just want to console him, have him do the same for you, while you both continue to grieve for Ace. But Law won’t let you go to him, fear or concern your brother might hurt you while he fights through pain and raging emotions, before he disappears into the forest.

“Luffy, come back!!”

You barely register Jinbei asking what’ll happen if Luffy continues to flail and run off like that, before Law speaks and your heart almost drops to your stomach at the thought.

“If he continues to move around like that he could reopen his wound and bleed out. He’ll die.”

Quickly you turn around and Law isn’t at all shocked to see the tears welling up in your eyes as you grip his shirt, still holding Luffy’s straw hat.

“Don’t let that happen!! Please!! He’s all I have! Luffy is my whole world, I can’t lose him!!”

Unsure of what to do, especially once you lay your head on his chest while you cry, Law hesitantly wraps his arms around you and watches Jinbei go off to Luffy. Maybe he’ll be able to calm your brother down before he really hurts or kills himself.

You’ve both been through a lot the last few weeks, losing Luffy would break you more than losing Ace did to him.

+!+

“I’m sorry I got snot on your shirt.”

“Don’t worry about it. It’ll wash.”

You glance away and keep your eyes averted while Law changes shirts, having taken you onto the Polar Tang while Jinbei attempts to calm Luffy down. He didn’t fully mean to bring you into his room, but he never let go of your wrist while he led through the ship, making you sit down to hopefully calm you down. You do catch sight of his tattoos, wanting to say something but you don’t want to sound like a creep or a pervert at the same time.

“Why don’t you use your last name?”

Law surprises you once he’s changed shirts, this one almost the same as the yellow one he’d been wearing, but now a dark blue with a furry, feathery collar that you really want to pet, it looks soft. But again, you don’t want to seem like a creep.

For a moment you’re quiet, before you cross your arms and lean against the wall, shrugging.

“Why should I use the name of someone who abandoned me? I only have one memory of my father, and it was when he dropped off Luffy.”

“Your grandfather is Garp, isn’t he?”

“I love my grandpa like he’s my dad…but I don’t want to use my last name.”

Law nods a bit, seeming to understand. You felt abandoned, and wanted nothing to do with your biological father, instead viewing Garp in that light, which makes sense.

He'd viewed Corazon in the same light at one point.

“Your mother?”

“I know nothing about her. It’s like…” You start to bury your head in your knees again, almost digging your nails into your arms, “Like I don’t know who I am half the time…”

He gets that too, the same feelings after Flevance, after losing Corazon and leaving the Don Quixote family, leaving Doflamingo behind. Many times of looking in the mirror and asking “who the hell am I”.

Law is about to respond, before one of his crewmembers yells for you both that Luffy and Jinbei have returned to the beach, and you’re out the door so fast he isn’t able to believe it. He follows you out, not all surprised to see you and Luffy hugging each other tightly once he exits his ship.

Your bond with Luffy would be on full display the next few days, Law truthfully does wonder if he and Lammy would’ve been the same.

+!+

“I met some people who are friends with our dad.”

“You what?”

Luffy nods, giving you this information during dinner one evening, while you stare at him with such a blank look that Law thinks you’ve completely shut down. You didn’t say too much about your dad while you relayed some of your childhood to him earlier that day, apart from your perceived abandonment, but the look you have isn’t a very happy one.

“They’re were some cool people! They helped me escape that prison and…tried to help me save Ace.”

“So they were revolutionaries.”

“Yeah, they…they said they didn’t even know we existed.” Luffy scrunches up his face a bit while you frown, then pat his head.

“I’m not surprised, Lu.”

Luffy makes a face now, one that’s almost disgusted but annoyed but upset maybe. Law swears he isn’t trying to eavesdrop, you two are sitting too close to him anyway, you’re practically pressed up against his side. You both appear to have problems with your father, after the little bit you’ve told him and how you confessed to feeling abandoned by your parents. He wonders briefly is Luffy feels the same, even as your younger brother leans against you, pushing you fully into Law’s arm and making you glance up at him apologetically. He doesn’t move, once again doesn’t push you off, instead shifting his arm enough for you to be comfortable.

When Luffy falls asleep, you finally speak again.

“Luffy met our dad once, in Loguetown”

“Oh yeah?”

“Neither of us knew until grandpa told us…he didn’t even stop to say anything to me…”

“…I’m sorry.”

You shrug, watching Luffy. It still stung to know that, to know that Dragon didn’t even seek you out when he must’ve known you were on Luffy’s crew, that you’d never leave him to do this alone. When Garp told you he’d been in Loguetown that day, it felt like a knife in your heart that you didn’t even get to see or speak to your father.

Law, while he watches you start to drift off to sleep yourself, thinks about his own dad and Corazon at the same time. He had two fathers in the end, who both cared about and loved him deeply, both wanting to protect him as long as they could. He had his mother and Lammy too, you had Luffy and Garp, but it wasn’t enough for you, and it makes sense. To not have that connection with the people who gave you life, Law can’t even imagine how difficult that must be.

He ignores the slight snickers and comments from his crew when they see you leaned against him, even has he slightly tilts his head towards yours, not going all the way to lay his against your own. Even when Shachi makes a small comment about ‘love’ being in the air at Amazon Lily, Law doesn’t open his eyes to respond or even Shambles his friend away.

You won’t see each other again for a long time after this, most likely, so he’s willing to give you some comfort and allow his crew to see him a little softer than normal.

+!+

“Bye, thanks for your help, Traffy!”

Law tries not to grimace at the nickname Luffy’s given him over the last few days, nodding to you both as his crew also shouts goodbyes and wave to you both, you personally sad to see them leave. You’d spent so much time getting to know them while taking care of Luffy, that it felt like you were losing friends again. You’d probably see them one day, maybe as friends but maybe as foes, yet, you’d like to see more of Law and learn about him like he had you.

Luffy notices your face, the sad look it has, then looks back to the Heart Pirates as they start to disappear below deck. You’ve already chosen to stay on Amazon Lily the next two years and learn from the women there how to fight, but even watching you the last couple days, he could see your heart wasn’t in it. You more so loved using your knives and making poisons, he remembers the one he and Ace mistakenly drank thinking it was lavender tea from Makino. You weren’t an archer or a swordswoman, you much prefer close combat and paralyzing your enemies. Your work during Enies Lobby earned you your $25 million berri bounty, the Navy having trouble recreating antidotes from the one you’d left with a knocked out marine, they knew you’d be trouble one day.

With all that in mind, Luffy sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around you in what you first believe to be a hug, before he lifts you up and you look at him. He’s got a grin that concerns you greatly as the color drains from your face.

“Luffy.”

He giggles a bit, nodding at you to brace yourself.

“Luffy, don’t you dare.”

“Have fun with Traffy for two years!!!”

He doesn’t give you anymore room to argue, flinging you towards the Polar Tang, making you yell for Law to pay attention, and he barely does in time to catch you, knocking both of you to the ground, several Heart Pirates making sure both of you are all right and that Law didn’t hit his head on anything.

You’re up and holding onto the railing, yelling at Luffy, “You’re an idiot!!!”

He pretends he can’t hear you, waving widely and shouting another goodbye, but to you this time.

Once Law is sitting up, realizing what the hell has happened, he sighs a bit while you look back to him.

“I’m sorry, Trafalgar. You can turn back and I’ll beat some sense into him!”

One of his crewmembers, you’re pretty sure it’s Shachi, leans down to ask him, “Should we? Kinda seems like Straw Hat wants us to take her along.”

He sighs, taking his hat off and running his hand through his hair, shaking his head.

“You can stay.”

“…huh?”

You tilt your head in confusion, Law doesn’t think it’s cute at all no matter what that weird feeling in his chest is, while he stands up and nods at you.

“The Amazons might get angry if we return without permission, so we’ll just…take you along…and then bring you to Sabaody.”

Blinking several times, you’re still confused while some of his crew laugh, Penguin coming up to pat you on the back.

“You’re a temporary Heart Pirate! We’ll take care of you!”

Nodding, Law turns to go below deck.

“Say your goodbye, we’ll be going under shortly.”

While the rest of them follow after their captain, you turn back and see Luffy still waving at you, which makes you sigh and shake your head. You do smile though, you had wanted to continue getting to know Law and his crew, this was a perfect opportunity, and maybe he could help you with creating effective antidotes for your poisons.

“Luffy! Love you, see you in two years!”

“Okay!!!!”

Once you go below deck, Penguin being the one to wait for you in order to close the door properly, he starts to show you around a bit, the rest of the crew happy to see you’re staying with them for now, while Law keeps a slight distance unless he’s asked about something. You looking around and being so impressed by the submarine caused another weird feeling in his chest, and he fights to ignore it, especially when you thank him for letting you stay with a smile, which he waves off with an “It’s nothing”.

It's going to be an interesting two years.

[wndaswife]

meant to be yours | wanda maximoff & fem!reader

Nearly eight years after your breakup with her, you meet Wanda again when she enrols her children at the preschool you work at, evoking a multitude of old feelings and regrets.

Word count: 14 245

Tags: angst, fluff, pining that is a lot more mutual than it seems to either of you, mentions of marital issues, sorority!wanda & milf!wanda (best of both worlds), doctor doom makes his grand entrance

For the last few years, all Wanda has known how to do is compromise. It was a method of survival, a way to make sure she made something of herself as she aged.

The life she had made for herself wasn’t what she’d envisioned; ever since high school, Wanda dreamed of being a journalist for a fashion line. She loved writing and fashion design although the last time she ever had any large projects with either of those passions was in college.

Somewhere along the way, Wanda became convinced that the only thing she could ever be good at was planting down exactly where she’d always been — not taking leaps of faith lest she tumble and have nothing to fall back on. 

That was why she settled for a life married to her college boyfriend, staying at home most of the time caring for her two four-year-olds, Tommy and Billy. They were raised to be good, sweet boys, and though Wanda had heaps of regrets, her sons were always her greatest joys.

Victor Doom was an aerospace engineer who focused on robotics and developing other technological advancements for the company at which he worked — the household’s breadwinner.

In college he was especially well-known for being one of if not the only campus frat boy with a working brain, who in his final year helped paton tech with his astrophysics professor, subsequently earning himself a position as an engineer at a renowned corporation where he’s since been employed.

All she’d been doing since college was compromise — where to relocate, when to have children, whether or not she pursued a career. Some days she was somehow comforted by the fact that she didn’t need to do any more than live in the providing shadow of her husband, for it meant that she never had to reach for anything above, and that meant she never had to risk failing.

But other days, when she was selfish, Wanda wished she had more. She wished she had more friends, she wished she had a better marriage and a fulfilling job. Then she’d make dinner for her husband and settle around the table with him and Tommy and Billy at the end of the day and realise that she couldn’t have what she sometimes felt she wanted.

How could she?

At thirty years old with no opportunity for anywhere but forward along the path she’d always been afraid to step off of, there was nothing more for her but this. 

In the morning an argument took place in the kitchen, hushed and whispered so as to keep it muffled from the twins who were sleeping upstairs. Victor and Wanda had been discussing putting the twins into the summer preschool program for some time, as the private school they were planning on enrolling them in the fall semester had an optional preschool program.

He was on board up until this morning when Wanda brought up the idea that she use the free time to get a part-time job at a local newspaper company that was looking for journalists. 

Upset at her suggestion, he called her selfish and accused her of intentionally suggesting bringing the twins to preschool so she could waste time on her own self-absorbed endeavours. She tried to tell him that she felt she had to do more with herself, and that she didn’t only want to be a stay-at-home mother, especially when she had the education to pursue a career like he did. 

Rationally he couldn’t understand her wanting to find a job when he provided everything and more for their family, but it was her comparison of their likeness that set Victor off and he became furious and had trouble keeping his voice down, forcing Wanda to quickly abandon the idea of applying to the part-time job to keep him placated.

He left in a frustrated state though he ended up getting what he wanted, and Wanda woke the boys up for their first day of preschool. 

The two young boys had moved to cuddle up beside each other through the night, with Tommy having switched beds to sleep next to his brother.

Wanda woke the both of them, running her hands over their tiny heads and soft hair, and she watched as their little noses scrunched up and their short little arms unwrapped from each other's warm pyjama-clad bodies.

As she watched them arise, she thought to herself how lovely it would be to care for her sweet sons like this for a very long time, and she realised how not-so-terrible living a life without pursuing her other dreams would be. 

“G’Morning, mama,” Billy mumbled and his mother leaned down to kiss his scrunched up little nose. 

Oh, it wouldn’t be terrible at all. 

In the car after breakfast, Wanda explained to the twins what preschool was and how much fun it would be to meet new friends and play games a few days a week. The boys were thrilled and their mother was relieved, for Wanda didn’t wish to abandon the plan she and her husband had made by letting Tommy and Billy skip their first day, and she knew that if she let them stay home because of their whining, they’d whine all day until their father returned home in the evening.

But fortunately for her, the twins were ecstatic.

She didn’t know until her arrival that the first day was also when the parents were allowed a sit-in to allow the children to acclimate while also giving them a first-hand perspective of their child’s first day.

From the preschool calendar, she knew the potluck was on Friday but not that the first day was practically an orientation. If she knew, she would’ve insisted for Victor to take at least the morning off to join her in it.

The forty-minute long sit-in orientation where Wanda sat on a short plastic chair along the edge of the learning carpet along with all the other parents allowed for them to see for themselves that their children would get the most out of their preschool experiences, and that they could be relied on to care for their children.

As she gathered her things that were asked to be placed atop the class desks along with all the other parents’ belongings in the back, Wanda watched as the parents around her seemed to make fast friends. She wondered if they had all somehow known each other before the first day.

In any case, she felt lonely without her husband, especially as she watched her sons socialise joyfully with the other children of the class, watching the precious sight of their children take place without her husband with her.

She carefully slipped away along the walls from the groups of quietly chatting parents as they also gathered their things until a familiar voice made Wanda’s perk up as if she was suddenly summoned by dog whistle.

Darting her eyes around the busy room, Wanda walked forward slowly as her eyes raked through the classroom behind the heap of parents between her and the voice that seemed to come from the back of the classroom, to the right, and…

Wanda’s chest tightened painfully and her breath caught in her throat as she caught sight of you. It was you with your hair but longer now, your height the same as it had been, your voice that was a few slight tweaks worth’s difference from the one that had been echoing in Wanda’s mind, albeit fainter these days, ever since the last she heard it in person.

Her hand reached back and she pressed the pad of her finger into a sharp edge of the cubbies behind her, sending a sharp pain up the nerves of her finger and forcing sound through its muffled barrier and finally freeing her locked joints. 

She tore her eyes away from you and stopped just before the doorframe of the classroom.

Carefully, when she had confidence in her breathing, Wanda raised her head and took another look at you. 

All the different ways she’d start a conversation with you ran through her mind and she soon began thinking of all the things she’d like to say, all the things she’d like to ask you and all the things she wanted to know about how you were living your life now.

But her fingers tightened around the doorknob and she looked over to it, seeing the gold of her wedding ring reflect the classroom lights. Then she suddenly felt unbecoming and terrible about herself, so she looked back and saw her boys enjoying themselves under the watch of the preschool teachers before she quietly slid out of the class.

When Victor came home early and agreed to go pick up the boys to make up for his absence at the sit-in, Wanda quickly looked through her closet and searched for the letters she received from you the summer she was with you during which she had a three-week long trip to Saint Petersburg with her family.

As the tips of her fingers felt the base of a small rectangular box, Wanda began slowly running the pads of her fingers along the bottom until they caught onto the slim edge of an old sheet of paper. 

Slowly as to not rip it, Wanda slid the paper out along the open space between the edge of the box and the other stacked mementos she’d kept since college.

Since you. 

Before she opened the letter, she questioned why she’d even gotten the urge to look for it and what she was initially intending for when she began searching for it. She looked down and saw the familiar loops and lines of your handwriting and she abandoned the train of thought, slowly unfolding the sheet and raising it up so she could read it. 

For some reason she felt guilty for how long it’d been since she last read from it, and the part of her from her younger years scolded her for stopping the way she used to run her eyes over every inch of your penmanship since the last time she was with you. 

Anyways, Wanda read through the letter and felt an addictive pulse resounding within her chest, a lightness and a sort of prickly sharp wave that seized her throat and travelled down into her lungs. 

As she let the recollection of having ever been worthy enough for this kind of love, reading the way you described how much you missed her while she was gone and how much you loved her, Wanda felt an odd sense of despair knowing such a thing could only ever exist for her through memory. 

She couldn’t quite ask herself whether she was mourning the kind of love that was written on the paper or just who she received it from. 

Still as she tucked away the letter and ran the tips of her fingers over the other stashed-away mementos in the box, Wanda still couldn’t figure out why she wanted to look for them in the first place, why seeing you today made her want to open the box hidden along the top back corner of her closet. 

But she still sorted through it, seeing a flyer for one of your college plays in there and a music CD you put together for her, and more small trinkets all with meaning and all safely-kept through the years to keep the memory of you stored.

Downstairs, the front door opened and along came the excited footsteps of Tommy and Billy, and Wanda tucked everything back into the box and placed it back into the top shelf of her side of the walk-in closet. 

Friday came around, and this time Victor did take a day off to go with Wanda to the potluck; parents and children alike from both the elementary and preschool were being invited to have lunch together for a traditional welcoming event for the start of the summer. 

Since Tommy and Billy had already made a handful of friends and were by then already quite attached to the idea of playing with their friends outside the classroom, they were dressed in their very best for the sunny day.

Wanda made a conscious effort to look her best too, for she knew that today she was finally going to come up with the confidence to start a conversation with you. She tried to approach it from a professional point of view, to see it as practical if anything to make connections with the preschool’s instructors.

But she couldn’t deny the way she kept adjusting and readjusting her hair in the side mirror of the car as Victor drove them to lunch, and that wasn’t really required of her to be practical.

Tommy and Billy tugged at their father’s hands and pulled them towards the preschool, excited to show him what he’d been missing while he was at work.

There were a bit more people than Wanda anticipated though the expansive playing field of the preschool was certainly enough for the size of both the preschoolers and the kindergarteners from the private school. So she carefully slipped through the crowds and towards the potluck’s tables to set down the dish she made at home.

She saw you there too amongst a line of other parents along the edge of the table filling their plates. 

You were one of the teachers’ assistants from what Tommy and Billy had told her during their many excited retellings of their days when they got back home.

Wanda inhaled sharply and kept the casserole dish in her hands as she subtly waited for the line of parents to clear so she could inch her way closer to you. She spotted a clearing on the table that was close to you and carefully set it down.

She pressed the pads of her fingers into the scalding ceramic to give herself some confidence and she looked up from the table of food, finally laying her eyes on your face within a metre from you for the first time in nearly eight years.

To seem as if she’d approached you naturally, Wanda cleared her throat a little and turned her body to face you. She tucked her hair behind her ear and parted her lips. 

It all seemed like she was moving too slowly — mechanically — while the beating of her heart made her feel like she was moving too quickly — messily.

“Hi,” she said, stupidly. She got your attention at least and you lifted your head and looked at her. 

It was then that Wanda felt she’d bitten off far more than she could chew as she felt herself seized by the sight of you. 

Your hair was longer, like she’d seen on Monday. You looked older now, but the years had been very kind to you. She felt herself ache. You looked so beautiful, and she felt she would be trapped in this moment forever, unable to look away from you, feeling that if she had, you might suddenly disappear for another eight years.

The slight stutter in your greeting might’ve indicated to anyone else that you did recognise her and that her presence in front of you had stunned you momentarily, but Wanda, caught up and otherwise distracted by the sight of you, didn’t notice and so she introduced herself.

“I don’t know if you remember me from college, but–”

You nodded and interrupted her, “Wanda.”

Wanda hoped you didn’t notice how her eyes fell to your lips as you said her name, listening with her interest piqued the most beautiful medley of sound as it came from the way your lips wrapped around each syllable of her name.

It felt like an eternity had passed before your eyes garnered her attention again and she replied with a smile that looked relieved, perhaps because of the fact that you’d remembered her. “How have you been doing? It’s been a long time.”

“I’ve been okay,” you answered simply, almost hesitant to share your present life with a figure of your past. 

You looked over to the other side of the sunny field where the twins were being carried on Victor’s shoulders. “They’re yours, right?” you asked, gesturing over to them. “Billy and Tommy.”

Wanda nodded proudly, looking over at her playing children before back over to you. “How did you know? Did they mention me?”

“Anyone who went to college with us still remembers the last name of the all-famous Victor Doom,” you said with a chuckle that might’ve seemed resentful to Wanda if she still wasn’t so taken by the sight of you.

“But, how are you?” you asked more seriously, straightening and looking at her. “You look great. What have you, uh, been doing? The last few years.”

She flushed when she watched you look down at her outfit and her hair and she fidgeted with her fingers, absently rubbing her thumb against tablecloth. “Not very much,” she answered. “I got married — to Victor, as you saw — then had Tommy and Billy.”

“That… sounds like a lot,” you said with a lighthearted laugh.

Wanda felt her heart beating against her ribs in a way that made her take in a breath to relieve the tension she felt in her chest as she listened to the way you laughed. She felt like a stupid flaky college sorority girl again.

“A lot, but not what I imagined for myself,” she confessed.

With an understanding nod, you then said, “You seem to be doing great for yourself, though.”

A cool wave of validation came over her and she beamed. “Thank you,” she responded. 

“A-And, you? Are you seeing any–”

Before Wanda could finish her question, one of the other instructors, one whose name Wanda did not know, called you over. You excused yourself and Wanda completely understood, allowing you to head over to where you were needed.

Although she had chances to approach you again throughout the afternoon, Wanda instead kept looking over at you from afar between conversations with her husband or other friends she miraculously made with other mothers. 

She didn’t want to press, and she was worried that the thrill of seeing you inflated her sense of reality, and she didn’t want to overstep or misread anything.

After all, the last you’d spoken wasn’t on very good terms and although the years may have done away with the wounds from what had happened, no amount of time could change a future friendship that might simply cease to exist because of the past.

So Wanda had to settle with having only a single brief conversation with the person whose letters she’d kept since college, and she left the potluck early with her husband so the boys could bring one of their friends home for a playdate.

To celebrate the start of the summer and the successful lunch, Wanda and Victor stopped at a farmer’s market that they passed in the car for ice cream with the twins and the friend they were bringing home.

As they waited in line, Wanda began to wander and eventually found herself in front of a handmade jewellery booth. She was initially looking in a solely appreciative way, not planning on buying anything but in awe of the shop owner’s talent until she laid her eyes on a pair of earrings.

She reached for them and brought them up into the light of the sun and out of her shadow so she could more clearly look at the tiny silver dolphins hanging from them. They were perhaps half an inch in size and really adorable and subtle.

The rest of her family caught up to her with ice cream in the young boys’ hands while Wanda had just purchased the dolphin earrings. She showed them to Tommy when he questioned what she’d bought.

“It’s so pretty,” Billy mused.

Wanda agreed, “It is really pretty.”

“Is it a gift, mama?” asked his twin.

“A little bit of one, maybe,” she answered with a contemplative hum then took his hand as the five of them headed back to the car together.

She’d wear it eventually.

Dolphins were your favourite animal.

That evening after the boys had gone to bed, Wanda straddled her husband’s hips in their bedroom, knees hugging either side of his lap as he guided her forward with his hands on her hips. He thrusted up into her while Wanda leaned forward with her hand flat beside his head to keep herself up. 

She was too much in her head to enjoy herself — not that Victor cared whether she was involved during sex, and she couldn’t stop thinking of the letter she reread earlier that week and the dolphin earrings she bought and how pretty you looked at the potluck.

With a final grunt and a particularly harsh thrust into her that made Wanda wince beyond the mess of her hair, Victor released into her and soon untensed. He lifted her from his hips and ran his hand down the side of her bare thigh, perhaps meant to be some act of affection, before turning onto his side with a satisfied exhale.

Wanda cleaned herself up in the washroom and once she finished washing her face before heading to bed, she looked at herself in the mirror and felt something curious and desolate, so she stepped forward to get a better look at herself.

She wasn’t under any form of illusion; she was well-aware of how she’d aged over the years, from occasional periodic observations like how her skin looked a tad different in certain places.

But under the burning scrutiny of the washroom lighting, all Wanda could see were smile lines and signs of ageing and reminders upon reminders about how differently she looked from the last time she was with you in college.

Ever since she saw you for the first time in eight years on Monday, you were her landmark in time for nearly everything. She made dozens of comparisons a day, seeing how much things had changed and when the last time she thought of something was — minuscule things that seemed significant when she wondered about how you saw things from your perspective. 

Tonight, she wondered how you might think of how she looked now. 

She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for, but Wanda knew she’d been hoping for something because the very sight of how she looked in the mirror made her feel let-down, almost hopeless. 

And you looked so pretty at the potluck.

There were things about herself that she was glad had changed since college, but she wasn’t in any way thrilled about how much she seemed to have aged. 

Victor had brought it up a handful of times before, but it was only under the light of the washroom with the thought of you in mind that Wanda realised how right he was. 

Wanda wasn’t sure how exactly she was feeling by the time she shut the washroom light off and went to bed, but she knew that she was certainly glad to finally pull her attention away from the mirror and to think of only you when she closed her eyes instead of her reflection.

Over the next week or so, Wanda tried her best to be impartial with how she approached driving the boys to and from preschool while also ensuring that she only behaved as any other mother would around you. 

She allowed Victor to drop the twins off and pick them up without insisting she go along just to see you, and if she did catch sight of you, she’d try her best to wave only when it seemed necessary — when anyone else would’ve done it. 

The feelings that buried themselves deep within Wanda’s chest ever since she first saw you nearly three weeks ago had begun to overcome her in a way that she could only rely on convention to ensure she was behaving as she should. 

But after a while she began to miss interacting with you and after an amount of time she started to feel picky about how to approach you again. 

Fortunately, Tommy and Billy’s birthdays were approaching and they were adamant about having you there; it gave her an excuse to start a conversation with you. 

So while Wanda went to pick the boys up from school, she approached you while you were with the kids, waiting for them to get picked up by the rest of the parents as they played outside. 

“Hi, Y/N,” she greeted with a smile, elated at the feeling of saying your name out loud. 

She was standing on the outside of the picket fence while you were on the other side, turning to face her. 

“Oh, hey!” you said and smiled too in a way that made Wanda feel like she wasn’t being too awkward. “Let me get the twins for you.”

Before you could leave, Wanda quickly interjected, “Actually, I was wondering if I’d be able to ask you something.”

You seemed the slightest bit wary and that brought about a twinge of sadness within Wanda, but she pressed on anyway; she could understand why you’d be doubtful of her intentions, even after all the years that’s passed. 

“This is... a little embarrassing to ask,” she began hesitantly, “but the twins begged for me to invite you to their birthday party this Sunday, so I was wondering if you’d like to come. They talk about you a lot and I think they’d just like for their favourite person to attend.”

She probably talked too much. 

“Favourite person, huh?” you repeated with an amused smile. 

Wanda was reassured by your lighthearted response. “Their words,” she said. 

“And their mother and father?”

“Forgotten — completely.”

You both laughed, though Wanda a moment after you as she was initially taken by the sight of sheer joy on your face, caused all because of her. 

After taking a moment to seriously consider the offer, you said, “Sunday? I can’t do that day, sorry. Would I be able to drop off a gift instead on Saturday?”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Wanda reassured with a wave of her hand. “Actually, we’re having dinner with just the four of us on Saturday, so you’re welcome to join us then instead.”

You had a feeling that Wanda was sort of trying her best to have you attend something for the twins, but a part of you also felt she was trying hard just to have you there. 

Though you knew you were completely free on Saturday, you took a moment before answering to look a bit less rushed in responding to Wanda’s offer. 

“Saturday should work,” you confirmed with a nod. 

Wanda perked up and smiled, thrilled at succeeding in inviting you over for dinner. “Alright. That sounds good.”

She watched as you pulled your phone out from your pocket and she swallowed, forcing herself not to hope too much from what you were about to do, as you easily could’ve been checking the time. 

But then you asked, “Would you mind if I got your number? So you can text me the address and all.”

Wanda hoped her fingers weren’t trembling as much as she felt they were as she reached forward and took your phone with an attempt at a professional nod.

“Of course,” she managed to say, repressing the onset of an excited smile.

You caught sight of her flushed cheeks and the forming dimples as she held back a smile, but you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Years ago you would’ve pinned it as a flattered blush, hints of a heart tenderly-touched and a sensitive soul. But the Wanda you eventually came to know… was disingenuous. 

Most things with her were. 

You tried not to be bitter and childish about what had happened years ago though you were almost certain that people like her didn’t change; you had to look away.

On Saturday evening, Wanda had finished getting dressed in something casual for a dinner at home but formal enough for having a guest over, and she was standing in front of her vanity surveying the dolphin earrings in the palm of her hand. 

She hadn’t worn them yet; she was saving them for a special occasion, for when she really wanted to make a gesture. 

But the silver of the dolphins were too reflective and the shape of the animal would’ve been clear from even two metres away, and that wasn’t subtle enough for the steadily-budding rekindling between her and you. 

So she opened her jewellery box and tucked the earrings away safely for a different time — a time she hoped would eventually come.

And most importantly, Wanda didn’t want to drive you away. 

Wanda was in the kitchen putting together some drinks when you knocked at the front door, gift in-arm. She looked over at the door, feeling a fury of anxious butterflies burst in her stomach as the reality set in that she was going to have dinner with you. 

Victor announced that he’d get the door and descended from upstairs where he’d been helping the boys get dressed for their very special guest. 

From the kitchen, Wanda could hear you greet her husband at the door and she began to steady her breathing. She focused instead on carefully placing mint into the cocktail glasses. 

“Is she… here?” she asked Victor over her shoulder in the most inconspicuous way she could when he stepped into the kitchen to check on the food.

“She’s waiting in the den,” he answered. “I told her you’d come around with drinks.”

Wanda told him it’d only be a few minutes until the rice and stir-fry would be ready, so he went back up to help finish getting the twins dressed before dinner was served.

On top of the fireplace in the den was a framed picture of Wanda’s college sorority, and leaning close to take a better look at it felt like peering into a sort of time machine. It felt like a completely different life, yet you could almost just recall things like when exactly the photo was taken as if it’d happened only months ago. 

The photo was of the entire sorority coming together to take a picture before campus closed for a week for the holidays. It was during a sorority event at the city’s ice rink, and you recalled being dragged over to it by Wanda, who was your girlfriend at the time. 

You were posed together near the corner of the group of other girls, Wanda’s arms squeezed around your shoulders while she stood on a pair of ice skates. 

“I made this for you,” a voice approached from behind, and you turned to see Wanda walking into the den with a drink in both hands. “A mojito. But for yours, without any alcohol because I know you’ll be driving home.”

She was wearing a red turtleneck and slacks. She had an expensive-looking watch on and pearl earrings, and for the first time you considered how rich she must be now that she was married to Victor Doom. 

Wanda saw the drink in the cocktail glass tremble slightly before you finally took it from her with a ‘thank you’ and she rubbed her palm down her hip nervously. 

The warmth from the fireplace made her cheeks feel so warm, and the shade of the fire made your skin look so pretty and soft with the way the gentle orange flickered against your face.

“So you have this picture here,” you noted and took a sip of the mojito as you gestured to the framed picture. “Framed and up on the mantle.”

Wanda tapped her fingernail against the side of the glass as she looked at the photo over your shoulder.

Damn. 

She forgot to take it down before you came, and now she looked obsessive and childish and overbearing. She would understand if you saw it that way, for there was really only one reason she’d ever have that photo up in her house, and she looked at it every single time she passed it since she moved in. 

“Y-Yes,” Wanda stuttered and straightened, feeling the condensation from the glass trickle down her fingers. She smiled a little, because she was a bit proud of the picture.

She couldn’t read your expression, not when your back was turned, until you looked back at her and said in a lighthearted tone, “You must’ve not changed very much since college, huh?”

It wasn’t accusing or rude, and Wanda felt that it would’ve hurt less if you had said it as an insult; you said it as if you’d never expected her to be different.

Even if it were true that Wanda hadn’t changed since college, the realisation wouldn’t have even disappointed you.

You would’ve expected it, and that made something behind Wanda’s ribcage ache. 

Her lips parted to say something, perhaps to protest, but she couldn’t figure out what she wanted to say before the shrill cheers of Tommy and Billy ran into the room at the sight of you.

Wanda stepped back and allowed them to tackle you excitedly before you set the mojito on the coffee table so you could lean down and hug them, wishing them both an early happy birthday. 

She listened, partially-absent, as you told the boys you’d give them their gifts after dinner. She watched you mostly, and how little you’d changed in the way you laughed and teased. 

Did it always feel like this, eight years ago?

Had she been so cruel with you that you truly couldn’t believe she was one to change after so long?

Was this the first time, out of all the inevitable others, that she realised the hurt she made you feel?

Victor called from the kitchen announcing that the dinner was ready and Wanda blinked out of her stupor to kiss the foreheads of her children and let you walk ahead first as the twins led you forward. 

You looked so pretty wearing a knit pullover that made everything about you look so soft and smelling of sweet sparkling champagne.

The mojito made her a little tipsy and she felt her face’s warmth as she kept looking up from her plate and over at you across the table where you were discussing all sorts of things with Tommy and Billy, who were still practically buzzing with joy at having you over for dinner. 

She watched your lips as they moved, imagined you reciting the words from the letter you wrote her years ago — imagined you meaning them like you did back then too.

Since she reread the letter for the first time in a while just three weeks ago, she could recall every word of it again like she used to be able to when she was much younger.  

She felt ashamed of herself and looked away from you to spare her dignity, though it would not be the last time she did.

For most of the dinner, Wanda was silent; Victor was always more of the talker between the two of them, she liked getting to watch you without the fear of sounding obsessive, and she very much enjoyed listening to you interact with the twins without interrupting. 

It was only during the gift-opening after dinner that Wanda blurted out in the middle of a conversation. 

They were opening up a wrapped book to see a picture book guide of dolphins, and Wanda was only halfway into feeling shocked about the coincidence before Billy giggled and said, “You really like dolphins as much as mama said.”

“What?” Wanda all but coughed out. 

Billy excitedly flipped through the book and insisted, “Mama, you said.”

“I…” She cleared her throat and her eyes flickered over to your face, half-expecting you to be furious for some reason. “I-I said what, Billy?”

“That Y/N likes dolphins,” Tommy answered and looked up from the book, now confused by his mother’s confusion.

Wanda shook her head insistently. “I don’t think I…” She trailed off and brought the rim of her mojito up to her lips to shut herself up. 

Her avoidance of your eyes made her miss how you looked across the dinner table at her and her flushed cheeks. 

Victor made a joke about how forgetful his wife was and although it was a tad too degrading for dinner with their children, Wanda was thankful for it anyways for it cancelled out any impending awkward silences caused by her inability to behave properly around you. 

Just how much had she been thinking of you to the point of completely tuning out when she spoke about you in front of her children?

“We’ve been talking a lot about dolphins at school,” you said and wiggled your eyebrows at them. “We’re learning about our favourite animals.”

You reached into the bag and pulled out two adorable stuffed animals, a horse and a red cardinal — the twins’ favourites. 

As they cheered and stood from their seats to round the table and hug you tightly, Wanda felt a mix of emotion whirling within her, a sense of shame and humiliation, but also so much adoration for you.

To the boys’ dismay, their bedtime came quicker than it felt it had and Wanda had to put them to bed. They both whined although having been given an extra hour to stay up for their birthday dinner with Y/N, but like the sweet boys they were, eventually listened to their mother’s delicate discipline. 

Her greatest, greatest prides.

They were good boys. 

Wanda had the twins say goodnight to you and thank you for coming, then excused herself for a moment to put them to bed. She’d come back down to see you out, but until then you promised to help clean up after dinner with Victor.

“You know, I remember a lot about you from college,” Victor told you as he handed you a glass to dry. 

You placed the dry glass onto the rack beside the sink then replied, “I remember a lot about you too. Though, uh, we didn’t really talk, I think.”

“Yeah, but I talked a lot with Wanda,” he said. “And she’d blabber about you, like, every other day sometimes. So it feels like I know you well.”

Something about that made you bristle; you didn’t want to be known by Victor Doom. 

When you were finished with the dishes, Victor dried his hands and leaned against the sink, scrutinising you in an odd way. 

“You look good,” he then complimented. 

The flicker in his eyes suddenly became perceptible, and you quickly picked up on what he was trying to inch closer to. 

You eyed the front foyer then looked back over to him to continue seeing civil. “Thank you,” you answered simply. 

He was tall. 

Imposing. 

“Are you with anyone I’d know from college?” he asked, moving the dish cloth between his fingers.

“No.”

He scoffed in teasing disbelief. “I’m not under any illusion that…” He trailed off with a chuckle, leaving the rest of his words to imagination. “Especially when time’s done you so well.”

You felt like tearing your hair out and you felt a dozen weights being lifted from your shoulders when you heard Wanda begin to descend the staircase. 

“Give me your number,” Victor then asked in a hushed, hurried tone. “We’ll set something up.”

Wanda reaching the bottom of the staircase allowed you to quickly slip out of the constricting corner of the kitchen and you grabbed your things from the sofa in the den before following you out to the front porch. 

Victor Doom was still a huge dick, and you were beginning to have a terrible perspective on the couple. They didn’t change at all, and you weren’t sure what you came to the dinner anticipating, but knowing that Victor was still the kind of man Wanda was comfortable being married to planted an indescribable bitterness in you. 

“Thank you for coming,” Wanda said quietly as the warm silence of the summer evening soon enveloped the two of you alone on the porch when she closed the front door. 

“The boys really, really enjoyed having you over. I’m sure they’ll be talking about it for weeks,” she added with a laugh. 

You nodded and turned to look at her. “Yeah. It’s no problem, I really enjoyed celebrating with them. They’re lovely,” you answered.

Being in front of you now, Wanda wanted to say a lot and wanted to ask you about everything you’d been up to over the last eight years. 

There was no one to interrupt now, and it would be alright and objectively appropriate to start some small talk about your life while also being able to hide her buzzing curiosity behind convention. 

But all she could find herself telling you was one thing — all that she could get past her lips. 

“I really… I really have changed since college, Y/N,” she uttered quietly, pressing her nail into the pad of her thumb in front of her stomach.

It was important to her that you knew that for some reason. 

You regarded her for a moment then nodded, and Wanda seemed relieved at what seemed to her as trust established. 

The moment you stepped onto the porch, you told yourself how irritated you were at both Wanda and Victor, how unimpressed and upset you’d felt because of how little she’d changed since college. 

Yet all you could think about on the way home was her.

It felt that something was gnawing at you from the inside, pricking at your skin each time it fought its way closer to realisation, but still you couldn’t figure out why you felt the way you did with Wanda.

For years the feeling had been asleep within you, unwoken and put to bed the day of college graduation when you caught sight of Wanda trying to approach you before you left the graduation ceremony. 

That was the last you ever saw of her before earlier this month. 

It was painful to recall the time you used to spend with her, but freeing, in a way. 

You remembered how idiotically in love you were with her at the time, how naive and new everything felt. It was torturous to recall how it all ended up, but… thinking about how she used to make you feel made you feel exhilarated and you wondered if what you were doing was some sort of sick form of masochism. 

All the music CDs burned for her to play when she was away from you, the letters to her written with a careful hand — all so childish that it was worthy of some form of envy. 

You questioned if you were envious of the childish-like view of the world that you had when you were in love with Wanda or if it was the love itself. 

Either way, it was an unreachable thing of the past. 

You grew up, and Wanda…. was Wanda. She always would be. 

Weeks before the actual breakup, things had begun to dwindle between you and your girlfriend. She took frequent rain checks on your plans together to be able to tend to the sorority as the end of the year was approaching and the group traditionally began recruiting for the next year before the summer. 

But at the same time, your theatre was finally putting on the show they’d spent all year putting together, months of hard work spent on funding and prop and costume design — everything from the casting to the lighting crew was created from scratch since the start of September. 

You understood, time and time again, that Wanda had her own priorities with her own friends and hobbies. She helped with some things where she could, and you loved when she did. 

Some late nights were spent designing costumes together because Wanda had always been interested in fashion, and oftentimes she helped with those designs while you worked on putting together props. 

She wasn’t a college student or a sorority girl when you spent those late evenings together — she was just Wanda. But sometimes you felt like even Wanda didn’t know who she was during those years, and that was hard to keep up with. 

In spite of missing your practices and flaking on days where she promised to read over your scripts or touch up on the costumes, Wanda vowed to make it for your play’s showing.

The only issue was that on the same day there was an initiation for the new recruits, and Wanda was required to attend as an upcoming alumni. 

It would end before your showing and although there’d be an afterparty to celebrate, she also promised that she’d go right to the theatre to watch once the initiation ended.

Anxiously, you stood by the edge of the stage behind the curtains with a clear view of the front doors as you waited for Wanda to arrive. She had a seat in the front row where you could see her from anywhere to the right of the stage behind the curtains so you could watch her reactions to her performers wearing her designs. 

Then a few anxious minutes turned into half an hour, and she still hadn’t come. 

By then you knew that the initiation was over because Wanda gave you a definite time it would be finished by, which was well before the start of the play.

You sent her a few texts, but by the second to last act, you knew she wasn’t coming and you stopped messaging.

Maybe it was unfair to place her attendance on the kind of pedestal you did, because it wasn’t any sort of objective truth how important it was that she came. 

It was a play you helped write while thinking of her, props you made sitting with her in the living room — just the two of you, hours upon hours painting and writing and designing all while trying to see the set through her eyes.

You imagined you knew her well enough to see from her shoes, anyways. 

A whole year’s effort for her. 

It wasn’t like you told her any of that; not even you knew how important Wanda had been to every single thing you did until you were broken up. 

When Wanda finally arrived, she burst through the theatre doors, heels in hand. She looked like she’d been running, as she was out of breath and a bit dazed as she looked around at the empty theatre.

And the soft flush of her cheeks and the mess of her hair.

She was drunk too.

You were packing up the last of the props into boxes on your own when Wanda stepped up to the stage and looked for someone. 

“Is… Did I miss it?” she asked, slowly catching her breath. 

“Guess,” was all you could manage to force out from the bitter feeling that squeezed the air out of your lungs.

She caught sight of the props you were putting away; some of them were things she could recall making with you. She remembered helping you hot glue some of them together and pick out the paint and cut up the little details. 

She felt terrible. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry,” she apologised. “I lost track of time. Really, I did. I didn’t mean to miss your play. I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t mean to, but you should’ve cared about it enough that coming to see something important to me wasn’t an extra effort to you.”

You closed the stage curtains and stepped down from the staircase leading out to the side where the door to the theatre was, and Wanda followed behind you. 

You placed the prop box down by the foot of the staircase. 

“I know you were busy, but I just thought you’d prioritise your own girlfriend over some stupid sorority,” you muttered. 

The anger was well-founded, yet the way you insulted Wanda’s interests wasn’t. But you were so upset and jealous and you felt so belittled.

Maybe she felt the same way too, because Wanda quickly countered, “You don’t have to make me feel bad about it. I just apologised. And besides, it’s not like you had anything that important going on here.”

Your face contorted and you turned to look at her. 

“What?” you asked.

Although seemingly hesitant for a moment, the drinks Wanda had earlier catapulted her emotions forward and in the moment, she’d say anything to get a reaction from you just to make herself feel better about what she did. 

“You wouldn’t know what it’s like to have something important happen to you, Y/N, because you always give me shit for pursuing the things I care about,” she argued. 

With a disbelieving scoff, you replied, “I ‘give you shit’ sometimes because I want you here with me. I wanted you here! And I’ve always understood when you had other things to do.”

“You would want that, because you have nothing going on without me anyways.”

Sensing criticism in her tone, you questioned, “What does that mean?”

“It means that you could never understand having real things matter to you, because all you have is this idiotic nerdy theatre shit and nothing else important, so you leech off of me to make yourself feel better for at least having someone who’s actually doing something with their lives close to you.”

Wanda didn’t know why she said that, and even in the moment she hated the taste of her words as she spat them out. But she said them, still. 

She loved how nerdy and creative and hardworking you were. She adored you so much — looked up to you. 

Hours she’d spent listening to you talk about how much you loved theatre and watching performances with you online. She loved the part of you that loved theatre and film and art; she thought it was endearing and adorable, and it made you the most creative and sensitive person she knew. 

The argument pressed on, both of you fueled by the insecurity of not being prioritised by the person you loved. Perhaps all either of you needed was to confess that you really did care about the other, for in your own ways, it felt to both of you that it had become lost somewhere along the line.

Wanda felt criticised and betrayed that you would look down on her, that you saw yourself as so different from her. The entire sorority paled in comparison to you, but the feeling that you thought you were truly that different from her, that someone else would be better for you instead, made Wanda say just about anything to get some sort of emotion out of you.

In a way you felt the same, constantly feeling that Wanda prioritised things more than she did you. You were patient and understanding with her and your love for her remained in the face of her distance, but where did that get you if she didn’t care about you anyway?

In the heat of the moment, someone accidentally nudged the prop box and made everything in it drop and clatter to the ground. 

The loud noise of broken props you and Wanda had spent countless nights working on together put an abrupt stop to the argument. 

There was a particular prop that tumbled out of the box and broke, a small chalice that took hours to design to make it as historically accurate as possible for the play, put together by an actual blacksmith that Wanda knew, and intricately decorated by the both of you afterwards over Indian takeout and the span of two movies. 

Wanda felt so terrible looking at it, and how its base was bent and its handle broken off. 

“I think I’m done,” you said suddenly and started getting your things from a small closet beside the exit. “I think we’re done.”

It took a few moments for Wanda to process your words, blinking in the face of watching you begin to pack up and leave her. Then she managed to utter, “What?”

“We should break up before the school year ends. Let’s stop pretending this is gonna work out, okay? Just focus on our own stuff while we can.”

Wanda scoffed out a nervous laugh and she approached you, stepping over the broken props. “Don’t be ridiculous. We’re not breaking up because of… of this. Y/N. Come on.”

“Why not?” you asked and zipped your jacket up. “Be honest with yourself and try to tell me that you see this working out any better than it already has been.”

If Wanda were more sober and less overwhelmed, she would’ve told you just that, because she loved you and she knew she could give you what you needed — what you deserved. 

She would gladly apologise for what she did and how she’d been treating you, and she’d be honest about how she’d been feeling too. 

And if you were thinking properly, not acting rashly, not too emotionally, you would’ve taken a step back and realised how much Wanda did love you.

Maybe you still would’ve wanted more of her — more of her attention, more of her affection — but you would’ve told her that too, and Wanda would’ve felt like the most important person in the world for being wanted so much by you. 

But none of that happened.

Instead, Wanda began pleading, “Please don’t leave me. Y/N… No one really likes me but you. You know that. No one knows me, really. You’re all I have.”

“You have your sorority,” you muttered and pulled your hat on.

Wanda started to cry then, almost immediately brought to tears by the suggestion that her sorority could mean anything to her like you do. 

Was she so terrible that she'd led you to believe that was even possible?

“I don’t care about them like that, and they don’t even really like me. They don’t like anyone,” Wanda insisted tearily. “But you like me. I know you do.”

She wrapped her fingers around your hand and tried to hold it. 

“Please don’t leave,” she begged. 

Recalling it now made you feel like the worst person in the world — truly. 

In spite of the situation and what happened, Wanda really had been trying. She was crying in front of you and begging you to see that your relationship was stronger than you thought it was, and that she cared about you more than you realised. 

And all you could do was be bitter and cold and look away from her, pull your hand away when she held it and turn your back to her weeping. 

What were you protecting back then?

Your ego? 

Back then you wondered if it was a worthy trade-off, and today while you drove back home from Wanda’s house, you wondered the same. 

In the morning you continued to think about Wanda, and for an inexplicable reason, even checked your phone for a message from her. 

It’d been a while since you did that. 

But you didn’t hear from Wanda until Monday when she picked the boys up from school, and by then you’d been thinking a lot about change and the breakup and if it was possible to be normal with each other again. 

“I wanted to… to apologise. For dinner on Saturday,” Wanda said to you the moment she stepped down from her car, walking up to you waiting by the front door of the school. She was bold about it, didn’t hesitate before apologising for something you weren’t sure needed apologising for. 

“What are you apologising for?” you asked curiously, looking between her and the children being picked up by their parents. 

You doubted that Wanda knew her husband tried to get your number, but you were almost sure that she at least knew about the infidelity. 

Had she really settled for someone like that?

Victor was who Wanda started going out with after you broke up, and it bewildered you that she was still with him. 

Didn’t she at least once think that she could do better?

She indeed knew about the infidelity — she’d known since college. But what was she meant to do about it? She’d begged him for normalcy and to upkeep appearances for Billy and Tommy, but she couldn’t beg for him to love her like a husband did his wife.

Nor could he.

Wanda spun her wedding ring around her finger anxiously. “I just felt that things might’ve been uncomfortable for you, and I would never want to make you feel that way. That wasn’t my intention at all.”

It felt like she was talking a lot faster than you could catch up with.

“I-I can get ahead of myself sometimes, and if I said anything to make you feel… uncomfortable, I’m sorry.”

The sight reminded you all too well of that evening in the theatre — Wanda’s nervous fidgeting and her apologetic tone, and most of all, the pleading to keep you close. 

It was different now, of course, because it was in a different context. But it was the same, really. 

It was always Wanda begging you to stay with her. 

“It’s… alright. You’ve done nothing to make me uncomfortable,” you reassured, and Wanda smiled. 

Then you scratched at the back of your neck and looked away awkwardly before saying, “Listen, it’s kind of stupid, but I have, um…” 

You hesitated to say it because of the subject matter, but Wanda was patient and so understanding as she regarded you with such kind eyes as she waited for you to continue. 

For the first time you noticed how a part of Wanda had aged — changed, even. She looked older in the way she looked at you, the innocent levity ever present but now wrapped in the years that have passed and the maturity that came with it.

Wanda reached out a little and brushed the pad of her thumb across your knuckles softly, reminding you that it was okay to say to her what you wanted. 

She did change — but not all of her. 

Though you’d been so adamant about wanting her to be different from college, you found that you really enjoyed knowing some parts of her were exactly the same.

The parts you loved. 

And the parts of her that were different you wanted to get to know too. 

You’ve seen how hard she was trying with you, and you were finally determined to do the same for her. 

“I have some play going on this weekend. I helped put it together with a few theatre friends from college,” you said finally. “So, if you wanna come, I can get some tickets for you and Victor.” 

Wanda’s interest was immediately piqued and she straightened, her eyebrows raising as her lips parted to accept the offer.

But you added hurriedly, “But you really don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I know it’s not really your thing.”

“N-No! I’d really love to go,” Wanda insisted with a reassuring nod. “Would it be alright if I just went on my own?”

Imagining Wanda going alone to one of your plays made the offer a lot more intimate than you initially planned it to be, and the ease at which she suggested it made your breath catch in your throat. 

Wanda took it as she was being too forward and she immediately began explaining, “It’s just that Victor gets impatient with those sorts of things and I wouldn’t want to have you waste a ticket.”

“Yeah, I get it. Totally,” you replied and cleared your throat. “Yeah, sure. Just you. I’ll text you an entry ticket and they’ll just scan the barcode on it before you go in.”

“Okay,” she said with a reaffirming nod and a wide smile. “So, this weekend? When, Saturday?”

You corrected, “Sunday. At eight.”

“I’ll save the date,” Wanda said, practically beaming. She couldn’t believe how lucky she’d gotten. 

Maybe she hadn’t been as unfortunate with her attempts as she felt she’d been.

Was it apologising for dinner that got her an invite to your play? Or did the twins win all your affection for her?

Or maybe you just blurted out the invitation without really thinking it through, and you regretted it the moment it came out of your mouth.

If that was the truth, Wanda would try her hardest to make sure you’d end up enjoying having invited her. She’d be what you deserved eight years ago, and she’d show you that she still could be what you deserved now.

After that, she wasn’t sure what would happen; expecting anything more than your forgiveness would be selfish. 

Almost every day until Sunday came, Wanda sorted through her closet and her jewellery box to put together an outfit for you. She’d be wearing it and it was ultimately up to her whether she wore it, but it was for you. 

As she picked out a cream knit sweater and a floor-length black skirt, she thought about how you’d like her outfit and also wondered what you might think of the perfume she chose too. 

When it was the evening of the play, Wanda put her hair back into a French twist — this she did with the intention of not seeming too much like how she looked in college, as never she wore her hair up in something so formal back then. 

Wanda laid the dolphin earrings in her palm and surveyed it as she wondered whether it would be okay to wear it tonight. She worried about making too big of a gesture where it wasn’t appropriate, but there was a chance you wouldn’t notice she was wearing them at all.

After several moments of deep consideration, she took off her pearl earrings and put on the ones with the small silver dolphins hanging from them. 

You swore you hadn’t been this nervous leading up to the play’s first performance until tonight. You’d worked on plenty since college and it wasn’t like this was anything like your first project since graduation. 

Why were you so nervous?

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you took it out to silence your notifications until you read the text message.

It was Wanda, and she messaged: I got a spot in the front row! I’m excited!

When you stepped out from backstage and stood beside the edge of the curtains to be able to get a little glimpse into the crowd, you looked for her, eyes sorting through the front row of the audience. 

In the midst of the soft buzzing from the crowd’s chatter and an audience of nearly three-hundred people, you saw Wanda sitting in the front where she said she was. She wasn’t with Victor or the twins; she came alone like she said she would, even though you ended up sending her three extra tickets in case she changed her mind. 

The very sight of her made you ache, a thrumming longing beating at your sternum as you watched her look around at the theatre and adjust her skirt.

Quickly, before the performance started, you messaged back, I see you. You look great.

You wished so badly to have been able to see her face when she read the text, but you were pulled over to help with the lighting last minute. 

When the curtains finally opened, you checked your phone one more time and saw Wanda’s message: Thank you. :) 

The theatre lights dimmed and lights from the stage turned on and your position at the far-left of the curtains allowed you to see her much clearer — like you’d wanted to do years ago.

You paid little attention to what was going on during the performance, though you miraculously kept enough focus to be able to do things like help keep the performers on time with their costume changes. But mostly you were watching Wanda.

In a theatre full of hundreds of people, she was your only audience. 

During pauses in the script where the theatre was full of only silence, you could hear the pulsing of your heart and for a moment forgot it’d ever done anything but beat only while you watched how pretty Wanda looked in the pale light of the theatre’s stage.

When the play came to a finish and the curtains closed, the crew and performers gave their thanks to the audience before the theatre lights were turned back on and some of the crew and performers lined up by the door to thank people as they filed out of the theatre.

The line shorted gradually and the crowd of people made it so that you couldn’t spot Wanda, and though you’d completely understand if she already left — after all, she didn’t need to stay to do anything else — a part of you hoped she stuck around a little.

But not for any particular reason, for you didn’t even know what you’d say to her if she did; you just wanted to see her wait for you. 

“Hi,” a soft voice greeted, and you turned your head away from the theatre doors to the woman in front of you. 

Wanda.

The sight of her made you rather nervous, and you realised you’d been worrying a lot about whether she’d enjoy the play. 

Your only audience. 

It was her opinion you cared about the most.

With a smile that made her own widen at the sight, you replied, “Hi.”

“I really liked it,” she told you. “The performers were incredible.”

“I’m… I’m really happy you liked it,” you said, internally feeling pretty relieved. “Yeah, they’re super talented. We had to move around a few dates, actually, so they’d be able to perform for us.”

“And the script…” Wanda said, something brief and unsaid exchanged between the two of you as you looked at each other. But the question that was implied wasn’t answered when she added, “The script was wonderful too.”

Someone approached from behind and waited around Wanda to be able to talk with you, so she uttered, “I should leave. Thank you for inviting me. I really loved being able to watch.”

You nodded once and smiled cordially at her, but the sight of her turning and heading for the theatre doors reminded you all too well of something similar from years ago and you reached out suddenly and took her hand. She stopped and looked down at your hand wrapped around hers. 

Her fingers twitched before she looked up at you. 

“Stay,” you said and took a breath. “Until I’m done here.”

An unusual feeling began to grow within her as she ran her eyes over your face, seeing the hesitancy that seemed to make the corner of your mouth twitch as you anticipated her response and the look in your eyes that meant something she couldn’t interpret.

Her throat tightened and Wanda had to swallow to ease the tension there so she could reply to you.

“Okay,” she replied, hoping you didn’t hear the way her breath caught in her throat when your fingers tightened around her hand. “I’ll wait in the hall.”

Was she stuttering when she answered? She couldn’t tell.

She focused only on keeping her legs steady as she moved one foot in front of the other, her thumb rubbing at the heel of her hand as the feeling of your fingers running down her palm when you let go of her hand lingered even when the doors closed behind her.

Minutes felt like seconds in that hallway where Wanda waited for you. It felt like time simply ceased to exist there when her mind ran rampant with what it might’ve meant that you invited her to see your play and asked her to wait for you.

She wondered if things would’ve gone just like this if she had come to your play like she promised eight years ago.

The theatre lights turned off and you stepped into the hallway once the doors opened, exchanging a smile with Wanda who straightened from the adjacent wall and stepped towards you.

“Thanks for waiting,” you said gratefully. “Sorry for taking so long. There was a problem with the lighting again.”

“It’s totally okay. I didn’t wait long at all,” Wanda reassured. Then she said, “You’ve always been such a talented scriptwriter. I’m glad I got a front row seat to your play.”

Her words made you flush and the way she looked at you with such innocent and sincere optimism in her eyes that presently glistened with the dim light of the hallway made you stutter until you were finally able to thank her.

You cleared your throat and said, “You really do look great tonight, by the way. I mean, a lot better now because I can see you more clearly. Compared to before, like, behind a curtain.”

That made Wanda laugh and she nodded. “I get it. Thank you,” she replied. She was glad that you liked how she looked. She wore it all for you, after all.

Really, neither of you knew what you were expecting when you made time for each other alone. You didn’t know what you had wanted when you asked Wanda to stay, and she didn’t know what she’d been hoping to get out trying her hardest to be friendly with you again.

“Did you drive yourself here?” asked Wanda.

“No, I got a ride from one of my friends. He had to drop something off at his place, so he’ll come back to get me. His car couldn’t fit me in there with the set stuff.”

Immediately, Wanda offered, “I can drive you home. You don’t have to wait for your friend.”

“Really? You don’t have to. I don’t wanna bother you.”

“It’s not a bother at all. Tommy and Billy are out of town visiting Victor’s parents, so I don’t have to be home early to make them dinner or anything.”

Things seemed to be going well — really well. But you still weren’t sure what you wanted from all this. 

Maybe there wasn’t anything to want.

Maybe you and Wanda would just end up being casual friends who went out for lunch sometimes when she was free or went with her to her pilates classes when she could bring a friend. 

That was kind of amusing; you couldn’t ever imagine someone like her being a casual anything in your life.

Knowing Wanda would never be something casual.

“Would you mind if we stopped at my place before I drop you off? I have something I’d like to give you,” Wanda told you as she buckled her seatbelt then started the car.

With a piqued interest, you asked, “What kinda thing?”

“A surprise,” she teased and grinned at you. 

That made you feel all warm. It reminded you a lot of how you remembered her when you used to go out. She was such a tease back then.

Seeing her behave in some ways like how you remembered her but now dressed in expensive jewellery and clothes with shorter hair and a more mature face made her teasing even more endearing.

She talked a little about the twins and how their birthday party went, all the while you were watching how the streetlights casted on her face. Her face had become less round over the years and the pale lights from the street she drove down made the angle of her cheekbones cast a particularly sharp shadow along her face, making her face look sculpted, but by hand, like a Grecian statue.

Her nose was the same.

Her eyes crinkled at the sides when she smiled over at you after perhaps noticing you watching her. That was different from when you were together — the way she smiled — and you liked that a lot. So you didn’t care that she caught you. 

If you had looked away, you wouldn’t have seen how she looked when she smiled at you.

“Come in and wait in the den,” she told you when you arrived before leading you into the house. She set her purse down beside your things on the couch then started the fireplace. “I’ll just be a second. I have to get it for you upstairs.”

Somehow the room looked different now knowing it was only Wanda at home.

You looked at the picture you had been staring at the last time you were here, and even that looked different too. You’d noticed how Wanda was hugging you when you last saw the picture, but now you couldn’t stop looking away from her.

And how happy she looked with you.

Wanda came down from upstairs and you could see her holding something for the fireplace reflected off of what looked like metal.

When she stepped into the den, you could see she was holding some kind of prop.

It was the chalice the two of you worked on years ago that broke.

“Oh my god. You still have this?” you mused and carefully took it with both hands when she handed it to you.

Wanda’s cheeks flushed and she played with her wedding ring. “It’s all fixed up now,” she said. “I was really careful with it. You should take it.”

“No,” you immediately contested. “It isn’t right for me to take it from you after you’ve taken such good care of it.”

“It’s still yours. It was for your play. Please take it.”

You looked down at it, turning it carefully in your hands and reading in all the details of the prop the late nights you spent with Wanda making it as if the very metal and its details had words written on them. You wondered what she must’ve thought every time she saw it over the last eight years. 

It belonged to the both of you if anything.

When you set the chalice down by your things, Wanda quietly asked, “Y/N… Was tonight the play you wrote for me in college?”

You blinked and were taken by surprise. You started writing a script for Wanda so you could have it finished by the middle of February, but you ended up breaking up before her birthday, and you never had the chance to give it to her.

Initially when you first met Wanda again last month, you thought it was by complete coincidence that you had also just found the drafted script from years ago and had just decided to finally make it into a show.

But maybe you truly had been thinking of her a lot more over the years than you originally thought you did.

“How did you know that?” you asked.

She confessed, “I read a few pages of it back then.”

“When I…”

“When you told me not to,” she confirmed. “But I was curious, and… Well, that was the play, wasn’t it?”

You nodded, and she couldn’t help but giggle. 

“You wrote a play for me,” she said, teasing you. 

Without taking your eyes away from her for a second, you smiled and repeated, “I wrote a play for you.”

At first your sincerity made Wanda swoon and her teasing demeanour melted into a warm flattered mess before guilt overtook her at the sight of how you looked at her. 

You looked at her with so much admiration.

Wanda swallowed and quietly said, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“You apologise a lot.”

“I know, but–” She cut herself off and seemed to be recollecting things internally before she began again. She struggled with maintaining eye contact but she tried anyway, and you wondered what was so important that she had to try this hard to communicate it. 

She said, “I should’ve gone to your play in college.”

You tried to interrupt her before she could apologise for something that happened so long ago, but she wouldn’t let you interject.

“It was important to you and I should’ve gone like I promised I would. I prioritised other stupid, meaningless things over you, and I’m sorry. I should’ve…”

She finally broke eye contact and looked down at the floor, pressing her fingers against her palm anxiously. 

You weren’t sure if you should try interrupting her again until the light from the fireplace reflected against the silver of her earrings. 

You reached out and laid the earring against the pad of your index finger so you could get a better look at it and Wanda looked up from the floor and ran her eyes over your face. 

“Dolphins,” you said.

It was then that Wanda realised the feeling that had been planted deep within her the second you took her hand in the theatre, then blossomed rapidly until this very moment. 

She was falling in love with you again. 

Her eyes moved over your shoulder to the photo of the two of you from years ago, framed and showcased right on the mantle where she could see it.

She recalled how her eyes always found their way over to the photo whenever she passed the fireplace, even when she hadn’t any idea if she’d ever see you again. 

The box stored in her closet of all the things that reminded her of you from when the two of you were dating years ago came to mind too. 

She wasn’t falling in love with you again — no. 

Wanda had always been in love with you. 

“I bought them to wear for you,” she confessed, stepping closer to you so your knuckle accidentally ghosted against her cheek. 

Your eyes left the earrings to meet hers. “They’re pretty,” you said. 

“If only I’d have kept my promise,” Wanda whispered, “things would’ve been different.”

You ached as you realised how much guilt must’ve been on her shoulders the last eight years, how quick and easy it was for her to blame herself for what happened. 

“Wanda, our breakup wasn’t your fault,” you told her. “I made mistakes too.”

She immediately shook her head and looked away from you.

“No, you didn’t.”

You insisted, “Yes.”

“It was my fault that–”

You had to cup Wanda’s cheek with your hand to make her look at you again and stop talking. She shut her mouth and looked at you, and that was when you sternly said, “It was my fault too.”

She began to tear up and you carefully swiped the tears from her eyes with your thumbs. 

“I don’t care how things would’ve been,” you said. “All I care about is what it is now — what we are now.”

Wanda took in a shaky breath and quietly asked, “What are we now…?”

Your eyes fell to her lips and Wanda was too distracted by how you looked and how good you smelled and how warm your hand was on your cheek to notice you were leaning in for a kiss until your lips were pressed against hers.

She’d forgotten how good those could feel.

But she never forgot how yours felt.

Her arms raised and she wrapped them around your neck so you couldn’t back up from her too far when you parted from the kiss. 

“I could… I could do right by you this time,” Wanda found herself promising the moment you pulled away enough so she could look into your eyes. 

What was she saying?

“I could treat you right this time around too,” you vowed.

What on earth were either of you saying?

“Is that okay?” you whispered. 

Wanda didn’t wait a moment before replying, “That’s okay. That’s… really, really okay.”

She leaned in and kissed you again, feeling you smiling against her own grinning lips.

──────── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ────────

Until she filed for divorce from her husband, all Wanda Maximoff has known how to do is compromise, because until then, she never imagined a future wherein she could be any more than someone who lived in her husband’s shadows and never pursued the things she loved.

That night of your play changed so much for her.

It was painful to have to say goodnight to you and eventually have to drive you back home for her husband would eventually come back later that evening, but all Wanda could think about when she was in bed was how much things could change.

She thought about the kinds of futures she could have with you and the twins, the kinds of lives you could lead and the things she could do with herself.

But there was one thing she had to do before she could have any of that, and she wasn’t willing to wait and sit still anymore; when she turned to look at Victor sleeping beside her, Wanda knew she had to file for divorce. 

It wasn’t that the filing was so uncalled for at all, and it was easy to build a case against him.

The infidelity on Victor’s part and arguments that they sometimes failed to keep quiet from Tommy and Billy and dozens of other issues had built up to the point where Wanda’s lawyer confessed to her upfront that she was surprised she hadn’t filed for divorce much earlier.

They were trying to keep it as delicate as possible for the twins were still young, and in spite of their differences, neither their mother nor their father wanted to subject them to the complications that parents went through during a divorce.

Wanda rented her own apartment large and comfortable enough for both her and the twins, and you when you stayed over. 

You slept in Wanda’s bedroom, naturally. Though it still made you giddy recalling the mornings and nights you spent together in the same bed, in the same apartment.

Despite the relatively smooth move, Victor was still a very rich and power-hungry man, and he hadn’t been making the divorce process easy for Wanda. Oftentimes she was tired and drained, but also so impassioned.

It’d been a long time since she stood up for herself and what she wanted, and really, it was also first time she’d ever stood up to him.

“He wants to have them five days a week, each week,” Wanda told you presently, scoffing.

You leaned against the table and watched her as she worked. 

“What’s his lawyer saying?”

“I don’t care what that asshole is saying. I’m not compromising, Y/N,” she said sternly. “I’m not settling for two fucking days a week with my children.”

Rounding the table, you wrapped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her against you. “That’s my girl. That’s good,” you praised and shook her around a little, making her stifle a laugh as she looked up and smiled at you. 

You kissed her temple and told her, “It’ll work out, Wands. Be strong.”

“Is everyone ready for the picture?” a voice called from the front of the stage.

It was the start of a new season at the theatre and it was tradition for your company to take a photo of all of the crew during the very early days of production development.

“Oh, hurry, hurry!” you hissed and took the pencil out of your girlfriend's hand.

Wanda tried to protest, “Y/N–”

“Finish the costume design later. Come on. Come on, come on, let’s go!”

You took her hand and pulled her to the stage where the rest of the crew was getting together for the photo, the camerawoman standing by the edge with her camera ready.

Your arm wrapped around Wanda’s hips and she wrapped both of hers around your shoulders, squeezing each other tight and smiling widely together as the photo of the entire production crew was taken.

You asked, “Wanna see it?”

“Very much,” she replied.

You rounded the camera together and Darcy approached Wanda.

“Wanda. Hey,” she greeted.

“Hi,” replied Wanda with a smile and she turned to face the young woman.

“When you write the article for the newsletter, could you mention that we’re looking for backup dancers?” she asked. “There’s, like, several big musical numbers in this one and we were pretty understaffed for the last show.”

You frowned and looked over at her. “Okay, not ‘pretty understaffed,’” you corrected. “Moderately understaffed.”

While ignoring your lighthearted offence because you’d been the primary one in charge of performer recruitment for the last play, Wanda answered with a reassuring smile, “I’ll add it.”

“Thank you,” Darcy said with a relieved exhale.

When you turned around to look at the camera for the photo, Darcy mouthed at Wanda before leaving for backstage again, ‘Very understaffed.’

“Wanda, this is gonna look really great on the mantle,” you told her, turning the camera around so she could see the picture. 

“Framed and right under the television in the living room,” she affirmed.

Wanda still had the picture of the two of you with her sorority, though now it was stored away in the box with all her other keepsakes from you.

It was always a symbol of the past, a reminder to her of a love she couldn’t ever get back. But now that things were different, Wanda didn’t need to think about anything but her future wherein you and the twins were always in it, no matter how many different lives she imagined for herself.

So there was a new framed picture put up where everyone in her apartment living room could see it — a photo of the theatre crew and you and Wanda right in the middle in the front row, smiling widely in each other’s arms with her cheek pressed against yours.

[scarletskiesinthepaths]

I can’t get over the fact that seeking out physical mementos of his dead loved ones is something Levi has been doing since he was a young child. He sought out his mom’s tea set because it was the last tangible symbol of the life she lived and the impression he had of her—never wanting to forget her. Levi keeps inside of him the memories of every person he has ever lost.

Levi does the same thing again when he loses his squad in the “Female Titan” arc, and he cuts out Petra’s Scout badge from her uniform. He wanted a physical reminder that they had lived. These physical reminders are signs of who they were when they were still alive. To Levi, everyone deserves to be remembered as such. There’s such tragic selflessness in Levi, though, that he willingly gives up that last memento of Petra to help alleviate the grief of Dieter, who had just finished accusing Levi of being “devoid of humanity” and then endangered all of them in an attempt to retrieve the body of his dead comrade. Levi consistently forgoes his own needs to help others.

That same tragic selflessness is present in Levi in “Bad Boy” because Levi was ready to die in order to preserve that last impression he had of his mom, the one good thing he ever had. Let that sink in. Levi didn’t even fully remember his mom, but the mere impression of her was the one good thing he had. That says volumes about the suffering Levi must have experienced in his short life up until that moment. He truly does not see any worth in himself or in his own life. He actively endangered himself in “Bad Boy” because of this. He was suicidal.

And yet, Levi values the lives of others beyond anyone else. He seeks to give their deaths meaning. All this, despite seeing no greater value in himself beyond his ability to help people. Levi sees others’ lives as inherently valuable, but not his own.

It is significant to note that Levi’s powers awakened from a desire to protect. It wasn’t until the men attacking him in “Bad Boy” spoke horrific things about his mother that Levi fought back with the intention to protect his mom’s image. It was that moment in which he awakened.

The trauma of going into a situation fully expecting to die and then coming out of it having murdered multiple men is immeasurable. Levi never wanted this life of violence, as evidenced by the fact Levi peacefully asked multiple times for these men to give him an item that was rightfully his in the first place. Then, this bastard with the glasses later attempts to carve into Levi the idea that Levi’s own mother would be disappointed in him and hate him for having defended himself—when the only reason Levi even fought back was to protect her image. The tea cup breaking at the end acted as a metaphor that Levi had sullied his own image in the eyes of his mother, reinforced by the likely fact that it was his newly awakened strength that broke the handle—Levi views himself as the problem. The title “Bad Boy” is in reference to Levi’s perception of himself as a bad boy.

It is clear to me that the only thing that motivated Levi to live after all this was the idea that he could possibly do something good with his newfound strength—even though he viewed it as a monstrosity within him, being the cause of him destroying the last memory of his mother and resulting in him killing multiple men (likely for the first time). His newfound strength was also associated with leading directly to Kenny abandoning him. As such, there is no other reason Levi would have wanted to keep living otherwise. All of this speaks to an innate goodness in Levi. His selflessness is both his greatest flaw and his greatest strength.

[acourtofmishapandmistakes]

Shadowsongs

Summary: After Rhys and Feyre decide to take a trip away to the Summer Court for the night to escape the thralls of their newborn, Azriel is left caring for Nyx and finds that his greatest battle might just be getting him to sleep. I also recently rewatched the Labyrinth and forgot how much that movie slapped so the song from that is included.

As the Velaris tower clock chimed midnight, the sitting room of the River House was enveloped in the soft, ambient glow of faelight. Azriel sunk deeper into the plush, green, velvet couch, his expansive wings draped elegantly over the back of the chair, eyes heavy with exhaustion. His hand rhythmically patted the back of the squirming bundle nestled snugly against his chest. The babe, Nyx, resisted sleep with the tenacity of an Illyrian warrior, his tiny fists punching the air as if to protest the very concept of bedtime. 

The room was a playful mess, strewn with toys - dolls lay abandoned, blankets were tossed aside, and bottles had rolled under chairs. Azriel had assured Feyre and Rhys he could manage babysitting for a day and night. They desperately needed a break after months of non-stop parenting in tandem with running the Night Court, and a trip to the breezy shores of the Summer Court was the only thing keeping Feyre from collapsing into tears. Feyre had sobbed when they left, overwhelming Azriel with reminders of Nyx’s schedule and a litany of do’s and don'ts, which Azriel already knew inside and out. Her maternal instincts flared to the point where Rhys had to gentle pull her away, reassuring her that Nyx would be fine for one night, and, if anything, they should be more concerned about Azriel surviving Nyx than Nyx surviving Azriel. 

Typically, everyone shared babysitting duties throughout the week day, but with Nesta and Cassian off in the Autumn Court, Elain incapacitated by her first fae cycle, and Amren claiming she would rather cut out her own tongue than be left alone with a babe, the responsibility had fallen to Azriel. Leaving Nyx overnight for the first time might have been a tad ambitious. 

“Come on, Nyx,” he coaxed with a whisper of amusement. “You’ve got to give in at some point.” Azriel briefly considered that perhaps this was how the victims of his torture efforts may have felt when they had been kept awake for hours on end. Perhaps he should start having them babysit a fussy Illeryian babe instead of cutting off fingers. He chuckled to himself before pushing the thought away.

Yet, Nyx remained defiant, his violet eyes locked on the ceiling, deep in thought, as if unraveling the secrets of the cosmos rather than giving in to slumber. Azriel exhaled deeply, his fingers threading through his tousled black hair. After learning about Feyre’s pregnancy he had stealthily devoured every parenting book Feyre had purchased, to the perfect formula-to-water ratio, optimal bath temperatures, and baby sensory activities, he had learned it all. When Feyre faced challenges with breastfeeding, Azriel had accidentally revealed his clandestine studies by suggesting a particular latching technique. Cassian had teased him relentlessly since. Despite employing every baby battle strategy known to him, Nyx was relentless.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel sank even further into the plush cushions, resigning himself to a long night. As he watched Nyx’s tiny chest rise and fall with each breath, he couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer stubbornness of the new babe. Azriel couldn’t tell if that was more from Feyre or Rhys, and then decided that that trait most likely came from his Auntie Nesta, whom Nyx had wrapped around his tiny, chubby fingers.

In the dimly lit room, Azriel’s gaze followed his shadows as they danced across the ceiling, capturing Nyx’s rapt attention. With a grin, he watched them twirl and twirl – they were always more playful when Nyx was around. His shadows seemed as curious about Nyx as he was about them. During gatherings at the River House, it wasn’t uncommon for the shadows to envelop Nyx, tickling him and teasing him, eliciting peals of laughter from the delighted babe as he reached out to catch them. 

Elain had said before that the shadows and Nyx reminded her when she and her sisters were young, a black barn cat would seek her out to frolic among the late summer heat. Azriel wondered what Nyx made of these ethereal companions, if they were like an animal to him, or another playmate. He also pondered whether the shadows would maintain their fascination with him as he grew older. Azriel, himself, hadn’t spent much time around children this young, and his shadows seemed to be so gentle with the babe, as though they somehow could sense his innocence and hoped he would keep it forever.

As Azriel and Nyx both kept their gaze to the ceiling, the shadows began to craft intricate shapes and forms, transforming into a mesmerizing puppet show. Nyx’s restless squirming subsided as the shadows danced across the walls, casting enchanting silhouettes that swirled and twirled in their silent ballet creating a tableau of delight.

On the ceiling, an array of animals appeared in what resembled a grand ballroom scene. Pegasus, birds, and sheep mingled before parting to reveal a single swan, its wings unfurling with ethereal grace. The swan bowed elegantly before twirling loftily above its admiring audience. Then, emerging from the gathered shadows, a sly fox approached, gracefully taking the swan’s wings in its paws and spinning it in a delicate dance. Although the room was silent, one could easily imagine the soft strains of music. Nyx reached up excitedly, prompting Azriel to adjust his hold, lifting him slightly higher for a better view.

As the dance continued above, some shadows descended the walls and playfully twirled around Nyx, their cool touch eliciting giggles from the dark-haired babe.

The shadows conjured forth visions of Nyxs’ family, distant echoes of life beyond the cozy sitting room. 

In one corner of the room, the shadows morphed into delicate snowflakes cascading down the wall. Above the floorboard, three figures raced across the scene – two winged Illyrians and one without wings. The winged males playfully lobbed snowballs at their wingless companion, who shielded his head with his hands. Suddenly, a log sprung from the ground, causing the wingless man to trip and tumble face-first into a pile of snow below. The two other males doubled over with laughter, one even dropping to his knees as the snow continued to fall. Nyx’s eyes widened with wonder, his tiny fingers reaching out to grasp the fleeting shapes. The snowball fight between his father and brothers drew excited coos and giggles from him, his laughed echoing around the room.

In the other corner, the shadows drifted into a scene of a woman standing at an easel, the woman's stomach swollen with child. The shadow woman stood before an easel, her brush moving across the canvas, she ran her hand over her stomach, glancing down towards it when a man walked in behind her, twirling her around into an embrace. The man leaned over, placing a tender kiss on the woman's stomach. Nyx babbled joyfully, his tiny feet kicking Azriel’s chest with delight, which while uncomfortable brought a smile to his face.

Across the ceiling, the shadows painted a scene of a great battle, a field of war and chaos as two winged males fight back to back against a vast army, shooting arrows and swinging swords. 

While the shadows swirled the tapestry of memories, Azriel looked only at Nyx, who giggled and babbled in delight at the unfolding scenes. With each passing moment, it became increasingly apparent to Azriel that while the shadows were doing their best to soothe Nyx to sleep, they had only awakened him more. It became glaringly obvious that bedtime stories wouldn’t work. 

Nyx’s giggles and coos echoed through the River House. With a sigh, Azriel gestured for the shadows to cease their dance, and the room was once again plunged into a soft, dim glow. 

“Alright, Nyx,” Azriel murmured, his voice gentle but tinged with exhaustion. “Let’s try something else.”

He drew Nyx back into his arms, cradling him close against his chest. Rising from the enveloping comfort of the couch, Azriel’s footsteps were muted against the plush rug of the sitting room as he began to meander through the house. Moonlight streamed through the towering windows, casting the ornate corridors in a serene silvery light, illuminating the walls adorned with Feyre’s vibrant paintings. 

Feyre and Rhys had both endured their share of sleepless nights, pacing the same halls with Nyx in their arms. Rhys had noted that being the babe of the Night Court it seemed all Nyx wanted to do was explore the world when the sun had set and all had gone quiet. Perhaps Nyx was more bat than babe.

Undeterred, Azriel pressed on, his footsteps echoing through the halls as he swayed in arms in a steady rhythm. But Nyx remained stubbornly awake, his eyes darting from window to window cooing loudly. As he reached the grand staircase that spiraled upwards, a faint cry echoed through the silence. Nyx stirred in his arms, his tiny fists clutching at his shirt as he let out a wail. 

Azriel attempted to shush the fussy baby who now was wailing louder for what seemed no apparent reason. Perhaps Nyx was finally fighting exhaustion as well. With a sigh, Azriel retraced his steps, as he stepped into Nyx’s nursery. 

Feyre had taken months to finally get the nursery the way she envisioned it. She had wanted Nyx’s room to encompass the entirety of Prythian as they were unsure what powers Nyx might hold. 

Each wall of the room was a canvas of vibrant colors and intricate designs including the bay window that Feyre had insisted be where Nyxs’ bassinet be. 

Painting the Spring Court wall had been a battle unto itself with Rhys and Cassian joking constantly that the wall should be burning to the ground, or that she should paint Tamlin being pursued by a dragon. Feyre had just shot them an obscene gesture and instead painted spring blossoms of pastel pinks and greens. Delicate flowers bloomed amidst emerald meadows, their petals unfurling in the warmth of the sun. Amongst the meadow was a warm pool with a waterfall cascading down a mountainside. 

Opposite, the wall of Summer blazed with the fiery hues of the sun, a tapestry of gold and crimson beamed down onto the deep blue sea, where Tarquin’s white castle glistened atop the white sandstone mountain. 

Next to it, the wall of Autumn was a symphony of earthy greens, oranges, reds, and browns. The Autumn Court forest held deep shadows which made the wheat fields protruding from them seem like shining gold. Lucien had helped Feyre paint this wall, and his awkward-looking, disproportionate deer and fawns clearly showed that. 

Beside the Autumn wall, the Winter Court lay shrouded in a blanket of icy blues and silvery whites. Snowflakes danced amidst frost kissed pines, their branches bending beneath the weight of the winter embrace. Bears and arctic foxes scampered on the piles of snow, wearing the traditional colors. Elain had insisted on giving the little foxes scarves. Azriel had reminded her they were made for that sort of weather but Elain had only glanced at him sadly before saying “But what if they get cold” before she painted tiny mittens on the bears. 

On the half of the ceiling closest to the door, Feyre had painted the Dawn and Day courts. Sunlight streamed through branches of ancient oaks as it rose from the corner of the room, and hills of rolling green with children from each court playing amongst them filled out the space. 

Over Nyxs’ crib, Feyre had painted a deep blue color of the sky with a sparkle of stars strewn across it. Rhys had enchanted the space just below the ceiling to be constantly in motion with sparkling star dust which moved in and out of constellations, with the occasional shooting star flying high above. 

As Nyx continued his tirade of shrill cries, Azriel rocked him around the room, shushing him as much as he could. As he continued to sway gently with Nyx in his arms, the baby began to quiet, his tiny body nestled into Azriels chest as his breaths steadied. With a tender smile, he began to sing, his voice a gentle melody through the darkness, like a whispered prayer. 

“I saw my baby, crying hard as babe could cry,” he sang, “What could I do?” 

With each note, Nyx grew more and more relaxed, his eyelids fluttering closed from the gentle cadence and rocking. 

“My baby’s love had gone and left my baby blue” he sang, his voice soft and tender, “Nobody knew.” 

Azriel watched Nyx’s tiny fingers curl against his chest, his breathing slow and steady and sleep drifted closer. 

“What kind of magic spell to use, slime and snails, puppy dog tails, thunder or lightning,” Azriel continued to sing as he wandered carefully over to the crib. 

“Dance magic, dance magic dance, dance magic dance,” He lowered Nyx into the soft blue oasis. “Jump magic, jump, jump magic, put that baby’s spell on me, kiss my baby, make her free,” Azriel placed his palm onto Nyx’s chest and continued to rub back and forth soothingly. 

“I saw my baby,” He continued, softer, more of a whisper, “Trying hard as babe could try, what could I do?” Azriel dropped to his knees, his fingers tracing the lines of the baby's face as he rested his arm on the side of the bassinet and laid his head atop it. “My baby’s fun had gone, and left my baby blue, nobody knew.” Nyx’s soft pink lips fell open slightly as his eyes finally closed and his head fell to the side. Azriel smiled and found his eyes drifting shut as well. 

Feyre found them the next morning that way. Nyx sprawled on his back, his tiny fingers wrapped around Azriels, and Azriel, a piled heap on the floor, his wings splayed on the floor behind him with his head still resting against the crib. 

Rhys walked up behind her as Feyre motioned him silently. “I guess he does sleep,” she whispered.

“Who?” Rhys chuckled, “Az or Nyx?”

Feyre turned her head to look at Rhys, “Both I guess.” 

Rhys asked Feyre if she planned to go in and wake either of them up but Feyre only shook her head, “I think they both could use a little more time.” 

With that, Feyre shut the door quietly, leaving the warrior and the babe to sleep a little longer.

[chilumi-shipper]

Mondstadt Characters Masterlist

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Aether

NSFW

Sitting on Your Baby's Face (Aether begs to let him eat you out.) Smut

Diluc

SFW

Bruised in Silence (Diluc lashes out on Mute!Reader, she got into an accident after, where her hands and arms are terribly bruised.) Angst to Fluff

Royally In Love (Diluc is royalty and you're just a commoner, but faith has dragged you towards each other. Your love is tested when he finally invited you to a gala, but he was dancing with another woman.) Angst to Fluff

NSFW

I Need You (DD/LG relationship with Diluc, taking a little break.) NSFW, Angst

When Mommy's Resting (Diluc eats you out while you're asleep.) Smut

His Princess (Diluc calls you princess as he pounds your pussy.) Smut

Irresistible (You're Diluc's cute little maid that he really really wants to fuck.) Smut

The Wrong Pursuit (Step-brother Diluc trains you into becoming a good little cock slut.) Smut, Step-Cest

Kaeya

SFW

A Day To Be Forgotten (Kaeya didn't show up at your anniversary date night.) Angst to Fluff

All I Got (Kaeya was the worst at relationships, you finally burst after the pain he's put you through.) Angst

When You Finally Give Up (Kaeya makes it seem like he doesn't care about your relationship, and it breaks your heart.) Angst

Why Cling On? (Kaeya let's you get hurt and you finally have had enough of him not caring about you.) Angst

NSFW

The Devil's Heaven (Devil!Kaeya fucks you for the first time, his beloved angel.) Smut

Albedo

NSFW

Greatest Creation (Albedo created you to be his sex toy.) Smut

Greatest Creation (2) (Albedo abandoned you and Fakebedo found you.) Angst, Smut

Greatest Creation (3) (Albedo becomes jealous as he looks at your domestic life with Fakebedo.) Fluff, Smut

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

[caligvlasaqvarivm]

ik you mentioned interest in writing out how you'd prefer homestuck ended (though obviously time and money makes that impossible lol), and you touched on it in your big eridan essay at the end, but would you ever consider maybe a more detailed outline? i really enjoy your thoughts on the characters and the abandoned plotlines, i'd love to get a little more of an in depth look at how you wish it went down.

Yeah sure!

For those who aren't sure what the hell I'm talking 'bout, please check out my blog and the various essays I've been writing.

Some of it is contingent on stuff I kind of still need to reread so I'm really sorry to the alpha kid likers but I'm still not totally 100% sure where I want to take them. I'm also going to include quite a few personal preference ships; I'm not interested in arguing what other people should ship or about arguing about the course of action for my dumb fanfic in general. I also tend to discover the plot I want while I'm writing it, which I don't have the luxury of here, so... some of it is going to be kind of sloppy. I'm also a big troll stan so unfortunately the kids are a little bit neglected (sorry!!!!). That said.

So the changes would take place directly after GAME OVER, which is personally the point at which I think the truncation/turning on the fanbase really starts - ships start to get turbo-sped at that point. I'm not even saying I dislike JohnRoxy or JohnRezi, but they just feel oddly rushed the way they're handled in the comic itself. IMO, anyway.

There's not too much I would rearrange during this interstitial segment; I think it's important for Jade to have the experience of loneliness, for Terezi to kick off the retcons by only feeling comfortable fixing her own mistakes. Moreover, there's no reason why other characters can't use her mind beacon abilities to ask John to rearrange the timeline, though their attempts, because they aren't backed by Seer of Mind abilities, are a lot sloppier and come with a lot more unforseen consequences.

But something I would change is that Roxy's deal with Nyx is not to just kind of... sit back and chill in non-space while John does all the work; instead, like Rose in Davesprite's timeline, Nyx puts her to sleep, and when the timeline ceases to be, GameOver!Roxy's memories get transferred to Past!Roxy via her dreamself (which wakes up early), fulfilling a "stealing from void for others" aspect of her abilities, and leads to some important interactions later on down the line.

Also, this timeline's ARquiussprite and Gamzee's corpse (heretofore referred to as (ARquiussprite) and (Gamzee)) need to come along for the ride somehow. Maybe they fall through the sky after LOLAR crashes into LOFAF.

This kicks off a series of retcons, as each troll that gets brought back successively asks for another troll/set of trolls to be brought back. This absolutely RIDDLES Act 5 with password pages, can't go two steps without running into a password page, there are password pages within password pages (which IMO is very funny and very Homestuck).

Meanwhile, a couple other plots are running concurrently - the GameOver!crew (heretofore referred to as (Name)) are now in the dream bubbles, completing their character arcs and preparing to defeat LE. Because time and space are weird in the Furthest Ring, every successive meteor trip that occurs as a result of John's retcons is the first time from the point of view of the meteor, but is a repeating event from the point of view of the people in the bubbles - eg those dead god tier Eridan and Feferi wind up healing the Mayor like seven times from their perspective.

(Aradia) is fluttering her ASS off to make sure everyone is in the right "place" at the right "time" for this, lmfao.

Roxy gaining future memories also means that the Alpha kids get to complete their arcs in a way they weren't able to prior to Game Over. Because what John's retcons are doing are functionally whiting out and redrawing the past, the Alpha kids are also only seeing a single linear timeline.

One last arc, which is running concurrent to the retconned!trolls and their new meteor trips, is that bringing back each successive character allows them ALL to grow a little more. So it is NOT like they bring back Vriska, and now everyone's problem are fixed and everything is fine; Vriska's still kind of awful, but she gets better after Tavros gets brought back and they have to character develop alongside each other, and same when Aradia and Sollux get brought back, so on and so on. Because it's about BEING FRIENDS and BEING A TEAM. They're all still having interpersonal problems right up until ALL of them get brought back.

But as a side effect of this and the questing done by the GameOver!crew, the Dancestors get more fully utilized as foils, and get their problems addressed. As the retcon!team goes through their character development, they start to tear the Dancestors apart, because the Dancestors represent shitty parents who force their kids to clean up after their messes, and refuting them works both literally and symbolically as rejecting their irresponsible way of being in lieu of responsibility, accountability, empathy, and compassion.

So here's the series of retcons, and the absolute bullshit that accompanies each decision:

Terezi asks John to save Vriska, and prevent herself from getting too spades with Gamzee, as these are her two greatest regrets.

Pretty much just what her canon iteration asked for; I don't see any problems with the actions she asks John to do for her.

HOWEVER, we'd get more than just a montage of Vriska's time on the meteor, because in this version of events, we're taking our time and letting plot points breathe. Neither does she magically fix everything just by being around when she's very much herself still going thru it by the time the Meteor trip pops off. In any case, she brings with her some new complications:

Karkat still winds up having to play moirail and keep Gamzee calm. This still ends up breaking down by the halfway point of the comic, because they're kind of just not good for each other, but Karkat's personal shitty relationships are going to become A Theme, so it's important to make note of it here.

Vriska and Terezi don't fully make up on this iteration of the trip, since from Terezi's point of view, she was still actively about to kill Vriska before John intervened; however, we get more hints, now that they have to spend three years together, that not only does Vriska really miss Terezi (which is pretty well-established, given how she can't seem to leave Terezi alone), but Terezi actually misses Vriska, too - she's just really bad at separating her own feelings and desires from her instinctive grasp of karma and justice, a very Mind player-type problem to have.

At least with Vriska around, Terezi's able to nip her Gamzee habit in the bud, but this kind of leads to Gamzee feeling worse and more alone.

Something Really Messy happens between Vriska, Rose, and Kanaya when Rose starts her drinking habit, and it's pretty toxic for all involved, and Karkat is kind of stuck playing auspice. Vriska already expresses not liking Rose much and develops some flushed feelings for Kanaya after being watching her murder Eridan, so "It's Really Messy" is kind of all I can say on the matter. The girls are fightiiinnnnggggg

Dave and Terezi get close again, but given the weirdo vibes he notices between her and Vriska, and the fact that he's really not down with quadrants (YET.), means they still end up not getting together.

Sorry DaveKat likers but I am not one. They do not ever get together, so if you are hoping for that, I am sorry and you don't have to keep reading if you don't want to, it's OK.

On a note about Vriska and Terezi - personally, I do think their moirallegiance is endgame; Vriska clearly misses her terribly, constantly trying to bug her into making the Scourge Sisters a Thing again, and she even expresses feeling really bad about the Team Charge Debacle to Terezi explicitly, before directly foreshadowing how awful Terezi will feel after killing Vriska:

AG: Cause even though you got all these highfalutin morals and fancy reserv8tions, you know as well as me that a killer is a killer is a killer! AG: There 8n't no ch8nging your ways for good, and one d8y you're going to flail that silly l8ttle cane of yours and not find n8thin to 8ump into, and fall f8ce first into the shit ag8in. AG: And you're going to do something t8rri8le to some8ody and wish you could t8ke it 8ack 8ut you c8n't!!!!!!!! AG: And then you'll work hard to win 8ack their trust, and you'll try and try and tr8, and you'll see how hard it is! AG: You'll seeeeeeee!

We know that she starts using 8's where they don't make sense phonetically when she gets really agitated, so it's pretty safe to say that she's displaying genuine emotional distress here. When combined with the way she tells John about feeling absolutely horri8le about killing Tavros, it's pretty clear she's genuine about feeling really bad about the Team Charge debacle, and sincere about wanting to somehow make amends and get back into Terezi's good graces, at times trying rivalry, at times trying to prove that she's trying to fix her mistakes.

Terezi also vehemently denies them having a kismesistude and directly mirrors Vriska's hesitance about all the murder:

GC: W3 4R3 SUPPOS3D TO R3V3L 1N BLOODSH3D 4S W3 GROW UP GC: 4ND SH3 S33MS TO B3 3MBR4C1NG H3R R1T3 OF P4SS4G3 W1TH R3CKL3SS 4B4NDON, 4S 1 WOULD 3XP3CT GC: GR4BB1NG TH3 BULL BY TH3 HORNS, SO TO SP34K GC: 1TS 4 L1TTL3 1NT1M1D4T1NG GC: B3C4US3 1M NOT SUR3 1F 1M R34DY FOR TH4T

AG: On my world, I would 8e completely vindic8ed for killing him! He is far lower on the hemospectrum than me. He managed to disrespect me time and time again, 8ut I kept letting him live! In fact, the amount of slack I cut him would 8e considered scandalous 8y those in my class. AG: I had every reason to kill him. And yet... AG: I feel 8ad a8out it like a lame weak fudge8lood, just like he was. AG: And the fact that I feel 8ad is why I'm sort of freaking out right now!

They're basically two toxic girls who CANNOT be honest with their real feelings, and wind up hurting each other. They need therapy badly, but given the fact that they also mirror each other positively - Terezi feels grateful to Vriska for blinding her, and Vriska mentions she ought to thank Terezi for killing her, which set her up on a date with the dead John Terezi also killed - I think they have a lot of potential to be genuinely kind to each other once they work through their individual issues.

Anyway. We're keeping the Roxy stuff under wraps for now - last we saw of her, she went to go see her denizen, and her planet exploded, and John was really bummed about it. HOWEVER, we are going to check in with our GameOver!crew, although only lightly for now:

Meenah and (Vriska) have fully disappeared, and (Tavros), (Nepeta), and (Feferi) are looking for them because they've got the FUCKING TREASURE???

Everyone else from the Game Over timeline has landed in the afterlife, to varying degrees.

Shortly after entering the afterlife, (Eridan) fucked off somewhere to be alone. Last anyone heard from him was (ghost!Sollux) and him being Erisolsprite, but neither (ghost!Sollux) nor (alive!Sollux) have seen him since Erisolsprite died in Game Over.

(Karkat) is also brooding off on his own, feeling really shitty and sorry for himself. He's always felt personally responsible for everything going wrong for his team, and now that his team is basically entirely dead, he feels extra shitty.

Mostly just setting up that these guys are still relevant to the story, despite now being (irrelevant).

That brings us to the second retcon. Vriska obviously had great regrets about killing Tavros, both pre- and post-retcon, so she asks for his death to be prevented.

Tavros is back.

Vriska's requested fix is a very simple one - after all, Karkat makes mention about how Vriska's always had a competitive streak with Terezi, admiring/being jealous of her ability to manipul8 people; I think an ultimate culmination of that is her insisting that insisting to John that he do a retcon to stop her from killing Tavros - which, as covered above, she regrets greatly - but to do a much sloppier job of it, simply having John pop into [S] Wake and knock Tavros the fuck out.

Vriska herself doesn't believe this will have any unintended side effects, because her opinion of Tavros is still really low despite her genuine desire to make amends, and she's wrong.

Tavros's stay on the meteor has a major effect on Gamzee. I'm not entirely sure how it would pan out exactly, but I think Gamzee would step in between Dave and Tavros, into a situation none of them are happy with. This starts Tavros on a path of realizing that his inability to stand up for himself not only hurts him, but people he cares about (Gamzee, whom he ghosted).

Vriska is mostly uninterested in Tavros now, as the moment has kind of passed, and Terezi keeps getting on her ass about going after him (which brings the two of them closer).

Previous Messy romantic situations are still active. Karkat is going thru it.

Dave feels bad about tormenting Tavros but he kind of can't help himself, especially because Tavros keeps going up to him for some reason. The fact that he gets trapped in an auspice with Tavros and Gamzee kind of reinforces that he does NOT vibe with troll quadrants. Dave becomes MORE xenophobic.

On a note regarding Gamzee and Tavros: while I generally try to avoid relying on Hussie's commentary too much, as he likes to play his cards close to his chest, his note about Gamzee in the Act 5 book is actually significant enough to me to include:

The best explanation for why Gamzee says he's scared of Vriska, in my opinion, is this: he's flat-out lying. It's a good way for him to maintain his cover as 'Soft Gamzee.' It also provides some ammunition for those who, against all sense of good taste and judgment, want to continue to believe and assert that Gamzee is a decent guy with sensitive emotions and vulnerabilities before he undergoes his Muderstuck awakening. He was none of those things, ever.

Hussie likes to play coy, and you can't really trust anything he says after Act 6 because he's fed up with the fandom, but I think this comment comes early enough, and is made assertively enough, that it can be taken at face value. I know that "Soft Gamzee" is actually extremely popular in the fandom, so this may be controversial, but I do think there's more evidence for him being kind of nasty and manipulative than not, and having that always be a part of him brings more cohesiveness to his character. For example, he seems to have a pale crush on Karkat, trying to assert that Karkat is his best friend and changing the topic when Sollux gets brought up and he recognizes Karkat is closer to Sollux than him, and if you read his first log with Terezi as if he's hiding being nasty under a soft veneer, then his comments do read as pretty passive-aggressive.

TC: yOu KnOw HoW iT iS wItH fAmIlY. GC: NO, NOT R34LLY! GC: 4DURRRR DURR DURP TC: Oh YeAh... ... TC: I sPaCeD oUt, DiD yOu KnOw HoW bEaTuFuL tHe SoUnD oF tHe OcEaN iS? TC: hAvE yOu EvEr EvEn SeEn ThE oCeAn? TC: oR i MeAn SmElLeD iT... TC: SoRrY. GC: >:[

Maybe most damningly, his narration calls dealing with Eridan's genuine emotional distress "indulge emotional theatrics," an implication of his true feelings. Karkat and Eridan are heavily foreshadowed to be moirails, and Gamzee seems to have a pale crush on Karkat. What does Gamzee do in this conversation? He chases Eridan away from comforting Karkat - using the same excuse as he uses to avoid dealing with Vriska.

CA: put kar on TC: UuUuH, i cAn't rEaLlY ThInK AbOuT InTeRvEnInG, tHe bLaCk fRoWnInG MoThErFuCkEr kInDa sCaReS Me

Moreover, he does NOT seem to like Jack comforting Karkat instead, either.

THIS IS NOT TO SAY I DON'T THINK GAMZEE ALSO DESERVES A SHOT AT KINDNESS AND REDEMPTION. Gamzee is clearly a very troubled youth, between his absentee lusus, his indoctrination into a fundie doomsday cult, and his sopor usage. The fact that having his faith shattered by Dave makes him snap implies that, one, he was already unstable and teetering on the edge, and having his faith fucked with was the last straw, and two, that until he lost that last shred of hope, he was still pretending to be nicer than he was for a reason, and given that his LE worship doesn't start up until after the snappage, I think it can be extrapolated that that reason is that he genuinely wants to get along with his friends.

Given that Gamzee's issues largely stem from his neglectful lusus, it's not a stretch to say that Gamzee does not take well to abandonment and isolation. So here's kind of where Tavros comes in:

Gamzee mentions that he feels "So aT ChIlL WiTh yOu" while talking to Tavros, and Tavros reciprocates the friendship and also - interestingly - acknowledges Gamzee's religion, calling it beautiful even if he doesn't necessarily believe in it. I call it interesting because Karkat's inability to do so is explicitly one of the reasons their moirallegiance broke down. Moreover, in their first conversation together, Gamzee explicitly praises Tavros for his "gumption" for stealing his clown nose, when Tavros's avoidance of his problems is one of his biggest personal issues. So yeah, personally, I'm all for moirallegiance.

But Tavros started ghosting him after Gamzee offered to make out a little, another symptom of his avoidance issues. I'm sure that, even in this meteor trip, the fact that Gamzee killed Equius and Nepeta really scares him. In his conversation with Terezi, Terezi outright says "NO WOND3R V4NT4S C4NT ST4ND YOU"; Equius is constantly yelling at him; lots of people on their team seem to genuinely just sort of dislike him.

CG: MIRACLES ARE LIKE POOP STAINS ON GOD'S UNDERWEAR. TA: eheheh makiing fun of people2 reliigiion2 i2 the be2t thiing two do.

So having one of the few people he does really like also ghost him probably did... bad things to his mental health. Especially so when said person wound up dead. But now that he isn't dead, I think they have a shot - they just need to address their personal problems. Tavros with his avoidance, and Gamzee with his resentment toward the world, and reliance on substances and religion to take the edge off. In this meteor iteration, that doesn't quite happen - their toxic auspicetism succeeds in letting them air out their dirty laundry to the audience, but doesn't bring full reconciliation.

In any case, this meteor trip is fairly short, and uneventful from the dream bubbles side, although I do think Tavros should get a talking-to from (Tavros) about real self-esteem and self-worth.

Still, being back in contact with Tavros again, even if in kind of a messed-up way, does make Gamzee start to reconsider some of his past actions. This brings us to:

Gamzee Asks for Equius and Nepeta back.

Gamzee's not as nice as he lets on, but he does genuinely care about his teammates, and for the people he really cares about, like Karkat or Tavros, I think he's willing to stick his neck out. Bringing back Nepeta and Equius is more for Tavros than himself, really, because Tavros is scared of him for doing that, and he motherfuckin' misses Tavros, okay? John mostly agrees because he's kind of scared of Gamzee.

Some really fun stuff starts happening this go around.

The Gamzee-Tavros situation becomes resolved because this time, Equius steps in as an auspice between Tavros and Dave, and this auspicetism is COMPLETELY HEALTHY (with the bonus of being extremely funny, and what is the point of a Homestuck ship if it is not deeply funny).

Gamzee and Tavros are able to enter into a totally healthy moirallegiance once the auspicetism builds up Tavros's self-confidence, much to Karkat's relief.

Being stuck in the auspicetism makes Dave go crawling back to Terezi on his hands and knees. I'm sorry, Terezi. I'll do anything if you take me back. Just don't let me die as the guy stuck in a threesome with the two worst trolls. Dave has overcome his xenophobia.

Dave and Terezi becoming official does make Karkat sad, however, so when Nepeta finally works up the courage to confess to him, he accepts the offer to date her, thus fulfilling Jaspersprite's musing that she might only be able to date him after she dies.

They also break up. We're keeping up this trend of Karkat and his disastrous relationships. He's still involved in the Rose/Kanaya/Vriska drama, too.

With GamTav and Dave/Tavros/Equius cinched, Tavros and Vriska reach a sort of truce with each other. Not really friends, since they kind of still dislike each other, but Vriska would genuinely be glad to see Tavros getting more actually confident, and muster up the energy to genuinely apologize for almost killing him, so there's a sort of mutual respect there now. Vriska and Terezi are even closer because of this, but still not fully over their problems.

On the topic of the Dave/Tavros/Equius auspicetism: Dave still can't stop bothering Tavros, but the lewdness of it sets Equius off, so he feels like he has to intervene. Dave also can't stop himself from bothering Equius, which ALWAYS BACKFIRES, and since Tavros has a weird fondness/rivalry with Dave, he'd find it within himself to ask Equius to back off (which would work, because of Equius's... Equius). And every time Equius gets too overbearing toward Tavros, Dave feels COMPELLED to intervene, because he's like, my fucking god, you are the two worst trolls, why must weirdos fight. Dave desperately wants out, but he can't stop staring at these two.

And weirdly enough, it's beneficial for all of them. With two people to yell at him for being weird, Equius becomes less weird. With a rival in Dave and more contact with Equius, Tavros becomes more confident. And Dave has two people to rap against and feel good about his art with, something he more or less had to deal with alone during previous trips.

On the topic of Karkat and Nepeta, there are quite a few implications that they wouldn't necessarily work out. For citations, let me just link my Nepeta essay, where I go over what the comic says about their relationship from a storytelling perspective; here, I'll talk about their relationship from a more interpersonal perspective.

Karkat's signals are mixed as fuuuuuuck. While I don't necessarily think this will be an issue for Nepeta, as - as a Heart player - she's preternatually gifted at understanding motivations, the thing is... I think Nepeta can do better, and deserves better, a sentiment echoed by Jasprosesprite^2. She certainly deserves better than being second to Terezi, at the very least, even if she states she likes his outbursts.

And the thing is, Karkat is pretty explicit about saying that he doesn't return her feelings; in a world where they date, there's always going to be a sense that she's his second choice. And, just... my girl deserves better, okay? Moreover, while he respects her personhood, he's also pretty nasty to her when he DOES talk to her, implying he doesn't necessarily respect her choices. And also, she's actually really bad at shipping, so there will be this extremely weird tension of like... a hobbyist vs. a professional. I don't think Karkat would be able to stop himself from mocking some of her shipping choices if she ever opened up to him about that.

But I think them getting together is important for Nepeta, developmentally - I talk about this in my essay for her, but shipping is something I think she does need to outgrow, since it's kind of a replacement she's using for her loneliness. Moreover, I say in that essay that the issues she has in her moirallegiance with Equius warrant relationship counselling - and that's what Karkat is uniquely qualified to dispense, as the team's Blood player. Although they end up not working out, Nepeta would take several valuable lessons from this relationship - that she's kind of bad at shipping, that Equius is being kind of a shithead to her, and that she needs to start making friends with other people.

Now then. We're finally getting into some drama in the bubbles.

Please imagine for me Equius and Horuss talking, and Equius being aghast at the way Horuss is so derisive towards his matesprit and moirail. Now imagine him pulling a mic out of nowhere and rapping at him about how his problem is that he does not respect his partners. Now imagine Tavros and Dave joining in, also out of nowhere, with Tavros adding bars about how the hemospectrum is, not a good thing, he thinks. And Dave adding bars about how he does not have a fucking dog in this race. He's not even a troll. He doesn't understand their hemospectrum. Let him out of here. The fine fucking art of Alternian slam poetry. I think Horuss would start crying. So would I if three people including my grandkid started rapping at me.

Nepeta's uncanny emotional acumen leads to her wanting to befriend Damara, but being unable to speak her language.

GameOver!crew is up to something, IDK, probably showing (Tavros) inspiring people and rebuilding the ghost army, to tell a parallel story to Tavros becoming more genuinely self-confident.

We check in with the Alpha kids, too, who have some group therapy sessions led by Roxy.

Vriska and Tavros confront Rufioh together, a final culmination of their no-longer-enemiesship, and together, they steal Rufioh's ones. Like, Tavros starts speak1ng w1th ones, something he always had in him, and they also roast Rufioh so badly that he stops speaking in ones. But the way it's presented to the audience, Vriska outright just says that Tavros should steal his ones. And Tavros does. This carries over to successive retcons, as it's implied that Tavros just kind of starts naturally being more confident as healthy relationships are established sooner and sooner.

Anyway, a final note about Equius - his problems are mostly due to being sheltered. Although he is probably the most casteist highblood, he's not really that casteist, as what's really going on is just that he's got a BDSM kink. But because he's sheltered, he does not realize that it's a kink. And a fetishist who does not realize that they're a fetishist has more power than God.

His protectiveness of Nepeta does come from a good place; preventing her from playing FLARP was actually in her best interest, given what happens to people who play FLARP. But he's very much going overboard with it, likely an extension of his own lack of understanding of how much sheltering is good and how much becomes detrimental. What he really needs is for someone to point it out to him, which I think he gets via Nepeta or via Karkat, and then have a reaaaaally long think about it. He's genuinely a polite and helpful soul, who doesn't WANT to make people uncomfortable. The auspicetism is very good for him in this regard, as is his moirallegiance once Karkat talks him and Nepeta through their issues.

The point is, once he's forced to reckon with the fact that the degeneracy is coming from inside the house, I think he'd have a LOT of regrets about the way he treated Aradia. Which leads us to:

Whoops That Robot Thing Was Really Inappropriate Huh

Equius approaches John to ask him to make Past!Equius reconsider the Aradiabot Thing. John's getting kind of impatient with all these trolls who keep asking him to go back through time, but given that everyone seems a little happier each time, he can't help but agree.

So he goes back to the past, before Equius can give Aradia her robot body with the love chip in it, and something really fun gets to happen here: first of all, Equius's Void status makes him really hard to place, so John winds up missing by a bit, time-wise, so Aradia's already in the body. This is the first time that retconning!John and Aradia have been in the same place together, and when she meets him and finds out that he can time travel without causing paradoxes, she demands (with her Aradiabot deathmurderkill intensity) to be taken back in time to before she died.

John's retcon powers explicitly ignore the usual rules of paradox space - he describes it as a "fresh start". Given that Breath is associated with choices and freedom, his retcon powers are kind of the ultimate culmination of his abilities as a breath player. Although doomed timelines can and will still result from paradoxes caused by players when John isn't there, anything he directly interferes with is totally a-okay.

So all Aradiabot asks him for is passage back in time, in order to sanction her interference in the past. After she dismisses him, she still more or less has to adhere to events in the original timeline, for two reasons - the first being that she doesn't want to risk a new doomed timeline, and the second so she can keep the timeline predictable.

So even though she's basically asked for passage to the time period before SGRUB, it's basically outright stated that the progression of events has to be more or less the same, up until the point where John's other retcons take place. So here are the cascading effects of Aradiabot preventing her own death:

Aradiabot takes Aradia's place in the Team Charge debacle, being blown up/"killed" (as a sprite) by Sollux's eye beams, so that she can take Aradia's place as Doc Scratch/the Handmaiden's servant and "carry out" their orders.

Meanwhile, Aradia seeks refuge with Equius, whose void powers keep her hidden from Doc Scratch's omnipotence.

Because Sollux never actually killed Aradia, and Aradia communicates with him via Equius's account, Sollux is less depressed and self-loathing. He no longer predicts a future where all of them die and he has to be blinded. It's left deliberately vague whether this future comes to pass because he's less pessimistic, so his Mage powers are calling a happier future into being, or if his future changed, so his Mage powers are prophesying something new.

Nepeta starts regaining memories of alternate timelines and past retcons, as an extension of her Rogue of Heart powers. This includes the relationship counselling she received from Karkat.

Between Nepeta and Aradia yelling at him, Equius's character development starts sooner, so he's squared away for future events, and ends up not making the creepy Aradiabot, making a non-creepy one instead.

Aradia and Equius do not strike up a relationship, and become uneasy enemies/friends.

Aradia secretly god tiers well in advance of Jack's arrival, and meets him at Derse rather than awakening on her crypt there.

Aradia and Sollux continue a loving matespritship, leading to Sollux settling into a moirallegiance with Feferi. He's devastated when she dies, which still happens along with the rest of Eridan's freakout; Aradiabot doesn't intervene because she's needed for:

Aradiabot winds up being the one to sacrifice herself piloting the meteor, allowing Sollux to stay with the rest of the team when he meets up with Aradia, (Aradia), and (Sollux) at the Green Sun. Aradiabot winds up with the GameOver!crew.

With the 1337 hackers back in commission, Sollux and Roxy are able to establish a server connection with each other, allowing them to communicate during the 3-year meteor trip.

Aradia involves herself in the Rose/Kanaya/Vriska Mess, and I kind of can't decide what I like better - a vascillatory pitch/flush threeway between Rose, Kanaya, and Vriska, now that Vriska's near the end of her character development, with Aradia serving as a stabilizing force as Kanaya's on-again off-again moirail, or Aradia stepping in as an auspice. Either way, it's out of Karkat's hands.

This has a knock-on effect of finally giving Vriska the chance to fully make amends with Aradia, which winds up cinching the Vriska/Terezi moirallegiance. The scourge sisters are back baybee. And between a healthy moirallegiance for Terezi and a healthy moirallegiance for Gamzee, I think pitch Terezi/Gamzee could work as a healthy ship this time around. I'm not married to it, but they did always seem to hate each other well before SGRUB.

Nepeta has LEARNED HER LESSON regarding dating Karkat, so that does not happen.

Karkat now has no quadrants. He winds up desperately throwing himself at Sadstuck Sollux to try and help him get over his breakup. It's not a good look. Sadkat. He also takes up talking to the alpha kids for emotional support, which puts them off, too. Still gives really good relationship advice. He's clearly one of the more unstable members of the retcon!crew at this point.

We're light on the dream bubble drama this time around because of how MUCH is happening for the retcon!crew, but there's going to be a reference in there of Nepeta learning East Beforan.

SO. NOTES TIME.

Aradia expresses outright that she hated the feeling that she was set up and that she wishes someone would have stopped her from being so reckless. And although she seems to find some satisfaction in being the stewardess of the afterlife, there's clearly some resentment there that she's been forced into that role, as she expresses that what she's really looking forward to is watching it all break apart. There's also kind of an orphaned plot thread where Aradia is spending a lot of time in the afterlife putting knowledge together, which never really directly pays off except to the audience, and I think a really good way to bring that back in would be for her to be communing with (Aradia) in the dream bubbles in order to make sure the timeline flows as smoothly as possible.

As for Aradia/Kanaya - they're actually really good friends, and Aradia expresses that she's flattered that Kanaya wants to talk to her so much. There is a tone here that matches the way Vriska thinks about Kanaya when Kanaya is still ostensibly Vriska's moirail, and Kanaya herself admits to being attracted to people who are reckless. In fact...

AA: i just wish AA: back when i was behaving recklessly AA: i had s0me0ne t0 tell me t0 st0p listening AA: even if i ended up ign0ring their advice AA: it w0uld have been nice

GA: It Must Be A Certain Madness Im Afflicted By GA: To Orbit Those More Reckless And Dangerous Than I And More Daring For It GA: I Guess I Want To Help Them But They Never Can Be Helped It Seems

So I'm just kind of saying... Aradia and Kanaya moirallegiance... is not entirely unfounded. And a moirail stabilizes a troll's other relationships; if we have a moirail for Kanaya and a moirail for Vriska, then the Mess that is whatever's going on with Kanaya, Vriska, and Rose would probably resolve itself, I think. Either way, Rose is surrounded by SUCH a girl's night of emotional support to help her with sobriety now.

As for whatever's going on between her and Equius, I tend to believe the comic when it tells me relationships don't work out, and Aradia expresses regret for kissing him during the Ministrife. I think they could be good vitriolic frenemies, though.

Okay, onto Sollux.

In the same panel where Eridan and Karkat are implied to be "hatched for each other" pale-wise, Feferi and Sollux are foreshadowed in the same way:

They also spend a LOT OF TIME curled up in a pile together talking about their feelings, which we don't see with matesprits, but we DO see with moirails. Nepeta and Equius do the same thing, and they are kind of THE moirails. So I think Sollux and Feferi were always meant to be pale, but because Aradia died, Sollux wound up taking Feferi on as a matesprit instead. Between EriFef, SolFef, and GamTav, people getting flushed and pale feelings entangled is like, a Running Thing, so it's not really surprising to me.

Now, here's the thing. We already know that Sollux likes to cope with a rebound, since he went flushed with Feferi after Aradiabot exploded and was presumed dead. And Karkat cares very fucking much about Sollux, to the point where Gamzee speculates that he's actually Karkat's best friend, and Karkat even calls him that (although Karkat also kind of just calls anyone his best friend, lol).

CG: GAMZEE WAS MY VERY GOOD FRIEND, WHO WAS THIS GOOFY LOVEABLE BULLSHIT CLOWN UNTIL HE WENT PSYCHO AND KILLED SOME PEOPLE. I LIKED HIM A LOT. CG: I DON'T KNOW, I GUESS MY BEST FRIEND IS REALLY JUST THE GUY WHO I HAPPEN TO BE FEELING MOST SENTIMENTAL TO AT THE MOMENT, IS THAT A FUCKING CRIME.

This crab's got so much love in him. In any case, I mostly just want to keep sticking Karkat in these extremely unhealthy relationships for a while. It makes it sweeter when he finally winds up with Eridan LIKE HE WAS ALWAYS MEANT TO... but yeah.

Cross-session communication is also entirely possible, as Sollux set up chat clients between the trolls and the kids in the first place, and even without that, Kanaya found Rose's old GameFAQs on a server in the Furthest Ring. With both Sollux and Roxy on the case, there's no way they can't somehow establish communications way sooner.

Regarding Nepeta regaining her memories, let me once more point you towards the Nepeta essay. She's on track to become the one who attains Ultimate Selfhood, and comforts people like Jade and John about not really knowing their friends or being lonely.

But yeah, obviously Sollux asks for Feferi to be brought back.

F-EF-ERI!!!! 38D

Mostly Sollux just asks to be prevented from provoking Eridan so harshly. Eridan still winds up blowing up the matriorb, and thus, still getting killed by Kanaya in retribution, but this means that Eridan is now the only member of the team left dead.

PITCH FEFNEP. PITCH FEFNEP. PITCH FEFNEP

Pitch FefNep leads to Feferi letting slip something casteist where Sollux can hear; he doesn't personally care because he's heard much worse, but puts them on a break while she sorts herself out. They get back together after that.

Karkat alone :'( he's mostly just talking to the alpha kids at this point, trying to hide from all the happy fucking relationships happening all around him.

If the last retcon was really heavy on the retcon!crew, then this one is much more about what's happening in the bubbles. We get most of our dancestor development this go around. Do not read if you like the dancestors! I go very in-depth about how most of them are horrible people on purpose here, so their arcs are mostly about them being pulled up on their abject awfulness.

Nepeta, who has learned East Beforan, is able to talk to Damara and have an earnest heart-to-heart with her about how awfully she was treated. They hug and cry. Damara, finally validated, gives everyone a big middle finger.

Feferi heals Mituna's brain injury, because literally why the FUCK has nobody else done that. Now once more in control of his faculties, he breaks up with Latula, pissed off that she took advantage of him all those eons to boost her own ego. He also gives everyone a big middle finger. Damara steals her skateboard and high fives Mituna.

Porrim's basically the only dancestor who grew as a person so I think she mostly escapes unscathed.

Latula gets chased around by Sollux and Aradia, who basically just bully her for being bad at games. This is a date to them.

Gamzee completely refutes Kurloz, with his newfound clarity about the real miracle being friendship and the real dark carnival being the world he and his friends will build, not that LE noise.

In a double team between Terezi and Rose, Meulin gets eviscerated for the way her own Issues have made her ships deliberately awful, that she could have simply Not, and she has a bit of a breakdown.

As Feferi is grappling with her privilege and internalized casteism, Cronus wanders up to try and hit on her, and she goes "oh my god... when people look at me, are you what they see? A friendless loser that nobody likes? A total waste of seawater who's only pretending to be cool with the lower castes? A totally fake poser? 38(" Cronus just goes "..." and starts crying and Feferi ends the convo oblivious to that, just going "wow... thanks for talking with me! really gave me a lot to think about" imagine how funny it would be -

Karkat finds and talks to (Eridan), where he fully admits to missing the guy. His mopiness is so extreme that (Eridan) takes issue with it and punches him, before basically yelling at him to get his shit together. Karkat then yells at HIM for him to get HIS shit together, and they both leave, intent on getting their shit together.

We also get an update on Vriska and Meenah at this point, where Meenah is starting to seem more into how they totally ditched their responsibilities than Vriska is.

So the thing with this update is that most of the trolls have sorted their shit out; even Karkat has had a lot of introspection about how he really just fucking loves his friends and should have been more honest about it, not worried so much about appearing weak or lame. With the double Aradias in play to kind of handwave that the timeline will be stable because they're ensuring all loops get completed and all necessary conversations happen, and with everyone's successful relationships on display, we can kind of truncate the next leg of the journey:

Karkat Fixes Everything

Karkat is the Friendship Troll. Karkat is the Romance Troll. Karkat is the Bonds troll. He is their team's Blood player, and as the Blood player, he's been shown to deeply love all of his fucking friends - yes, even the assholes. Maybe even especially them.

As such, it's vitally important for the last push - last leg of the journey - to belong to Karkat. Where would our Blood player be without his bonds? Well, we actually have the answer to that. It's knocked out and prevented from joining in any of the important boss battles. LAME!

So in the last retcon, Karkat hears from Nepeta about the retcons that have been happening, and he really starts digging through his own past. If every retcon so far has been each troll only feeling comfortable undoing their own personal mistakes, then what of the guy who feels personally responsible for everything, all the time, forever?

Look, I'm not saying that a shipping chart saves Homestuck, but... by the time this last retcon is through, every Alternian troll is alive and god tiered. And he is dating Eridan.

If you have any questions about him dating Eridan, please refer to the link above. That essay is nearly as long as this one. There's SO MUCH FUCKING FORESHADOWING.

I don't think the god tiering needs to be explained, because if we hear that Karkat basically made his past self a shipping chart, and we've seen everybody's character development as they've gone through this journey, and we have Aradias on timeline duty and Nepeta with memories of past retcons and her alternate selves, I think we can more or less gloss over exactly how they go about earning their wings while maintaining timeline integrity. The important thing is that Karkat is dating Eridan now.

Because that leads to the last few bits of dream bubble stuff, but before we get into that...

Miscellaneous Plot Things That Need To Happen But I Don't Know Where To Put Them

Yeah there's just some ideas that I have floating around that need to be placed somewhere but IDK exactly where, or exactly how they shake out.

Hal becomes a real boy. And by that I mean as part of their character development, Jake makes Hal "real" a la brain ghost Dirk, and then the rest of them have to scramble against the clock (Jake's ability to maintain Hal's realness) to god tier him and make his existence permanent. He's a Sylph of Mind, which allows him to negate Condy's mind control. And maybe a GCATboy?

(Tavros) becomes the new leader of the ghost army.

Davesprite winds up dead at some point in the bubbles and doesn't explain how he died, but he and (Dave) get to fight each other and hash out their Realness and Relevance issues, before facing their final boss fight as bros once more.

Jade and Nepeta get to talk, and Nepeta gives Jade the reassuring speech about Ultimate Selfhood and how she won't be lonely forever. Maybe it's flushed. Might leave it ambiguous.

Somebody needs to auspicetize Dirk and Jake holy shit. Dunno who. Maybe Karkat, but I kind of like him pitch with Dirk, so IDK really.

Dad needs to die. Sorry Dad. If I can find a way to kill off all of the sprites besides ARquiusprite, I will. It's explicitly stated that sprites are drawn to the battlefield during the Reckoning, presumably to die, as part of the coming-of-age themes - losing one's guardians. It's sad but it's gotta happen.

All the Godtier!Calliope stuff basically happens as-is.

Can you tell I need to do more research on the alpha kids...

Ok Back To Karkat And Eridan

I think I'm going to leave their moirallegiance fairly ambiguous, but when Eridan is brought back, he and Karkat are basically together all the time. Karkat's signals are mixed even on the best of days, so I don't know how easy it'll be to tell that these two assholes slinging death threats at each other are pale, but *I* will know, and that's what matters.

This leads to the last two dancestor takedowns:

Karkat and Eridan (mostly Eridan) round on Kankri. Eridan calls him SO MANY SLURS. The fact that Karkat not only condones this, but is DATING ERIDAN, kind of makes Kankri lose it a bit.

(Karkat) and (Eridan), who have reconciled in the bubbles, finally find (Vriska) and Meenah. (Karkat) gives the two of them the speech that retcon!Vriska gave (Vriska) in the comic's original ending, but this time around, (Vriska) actually agrees with him. This serves as a conclusion to (Karkat) and Meenah's arc, and causes Meenah to feel so bad that she walks back to the other dancestors in shame, as (Vriska) leaves with him with the treasure to finally fight LE.

When Meenah returns to the dancestors, the first one she finds is Aranea, who's really sad about her own little escapade, blaming herself for the way Game Over went. This prompts Meenah to go, no, it was probably my fault, shouldn't have let you run off like that. And this would, from all the sobbing dancestors, prompt a string of "no, I'm the reason we failed"s, eventually culminating in Meenah rallying them together to do one last good thing before everyone gets sucked into the black hole and go join the fight against LE. Everyone agrees.

(Gamzee) is revived by the life players and cursed with immortality, so he can go on to become LE and complete that time loop. He is immediately locked in the fridge. This is also why he can't fucking die no matter what you do to him.

This also leads us into the final boss fights.

VS. CONDY

The twelve trolls. The Condesce represents tyranny, the worst aspects of the trolls' old society, and as such, is most thematically taken down by them. While she did fuck up the alpha kids' lives, too, I just personally think it's so much more thematic and satisfying to watch her be beaten down by the trolls.

VS. THE THREE JACKS

The eight kids plus Hal plus Davesprite. With Bec Noir specifically, it's fucking PERSONAL, as this guy killed their parents. This is where Dave fulfils his destiny of killing an iteration of English with his sword, when he decapitates Jack English; the person in the middle of that sandwich is Davesprite, which is how he dies and winds up in the bubbles. The iteration of Jack that survives to date Ms. Paint is Spades Slick, as he's the most sympathetic out of all of them and didn't kill anybody's parents.

At some point during this fight, I like the idea that they get zapped away by Jack English, John zaps them to the Godtier!Caliborn fight where he gets sealed in the juju, and then we cut back to the fight with Jack English, where, inexplicably, they all zap right back in.

VS. THE FELT

The spares - ARquiussprite, (Gamzee) in the fridge (who has since been revived by the life players and blessed/cursed with eternal life so he can go on to fulfill his role in the timelines and become part of LE), Dad, and the other sprites (if any of them are left alive).

VS. LORD ENGLISH

The GameOver!crew, the ghost army, the dancestors (they have a Big Damn Heroes moment right near the end, buying Jake time to deploy the Weapon), Aradiabot, and Davesprite.

Jake fulfills his destiny to defeat the Lord of all Angels by being the one to deploy the weapon, which deposits the beta kids, who knock LE in to the black hole. They then zap out of there, collecting the alpha kids from after the Caliborn fight, and zap back to the fight with the Jacks.

This specific configuration of boss battles winds up leaving Lord English entirely up to dead characters, who are then implied to all eventually get sucked into the black hole - their memories to live on through the living characters via Ultimate Selfhood, which only Nepeta achieves on screen, but implies that they will all achieve eventually.

It's important to me that the GameOver!crew is the one leading the fight against Lord English, as they're the ones who were the most screwed over by LE and his machinations - manipulated into killing each other, used as servants of his will, dying ignobly in a doomed timeline filled with special stardust. Meanwhile, the retcon!kids and trolls prove what they've learned - about compassion, kindness, equality, and forgiveness - by beating the shit out of the Condesce, who represents the horrors of Alternia, and the Jacks, especially Bec Noir and Jack English - the latter of which is a shadow of what Lord English represents - immaturity, cruelty, hatred - and the former of which is a culmination of all the failures they committed to get to this point, a symptom of their universal cancer.

I wrote a little snippet of Aradia once, and I think I'll use that to end this essay:

(ARADIA): ok now that we are all done being stupid (ARADIA): im sure enough people here remember the plan that i dont need to explain it again (ARADIA): so instead i just wanted to say (ARADIA): leave your backs to us and face forward without fear (ARADIA): the dead and irrelevant will slay the demon of double death while you unmake the threats of the living (ARADIA): and personally i think it's very fitting that he will perish here as nothing more than a bad dream (ARADIA): this will be the last time we see each other (ARADIA): so on behalf of everyone that you are going to be leaving behind (ARADIA): live (ARADIA): and be happy!

[madhatterbri]

Buckle Up | D.M.

Summary: Y/N remembers the ways Drew has used the belt on her. 18+.

Author's Note: Let's just pretend we didn't see this and go on with our lives.

Drew McIntyre Masterlist

Taglist: @theworldofotps @bullet-clubs-bitch @mrsarcherofinfamy @smallestsnarkestgirl @magicalbuttertarts @terrortwinunicorn @new-zealand-chic

Drew was apprehensive at first the moment Y/N brought up using a belt in the bedroom. The way he was so feral with taking the damned thing off when he came home. He was so in control. So powerful. So unbelievably hot.

They were slow about it to ease both of their reservations about this. When he was home, they went out on the town on a date. Nothing super fancy. It was a nice place to allow him to unwind after a hectic work schedule. Y/N seeing him smile was always a treat. He had an award winning smile.

The moment the happy couple went inside, the fun began. A trail of discarded clothing followed them from the front door to the bedroom. Tonight was different than other nights. Something about Drew with his belt made him more dominant. He wanted to take his time with Y/N, and he did.

The leather belt tied Y/N's wrists to the bedpost. Soft kisses and licks explored her naked body. She tried to move, but the belt kept her in place. Drew separated her legs by gripping her thighs. His hot breath between her legs served as the only warning for what he planned to do.

Within moments, he laps at her clit. His hands gripped her hips tightly. She struggled against the belt. Y/N wanted to touch him, yet she was trapped. All she could do was moan his name and wait for his torture to end. Finally, he shows mercy.

He appears from between her legs. His beard was wet from her juices. A sinister gaze in his eyes. Drew wasn't finished yet by a long shot. Y/N gulped as he released her from her treacherous binds. She rubs her wrists briefly before receiving instructions from him.

"Get up and bend over. Palms down on the mattress,"

After the promise of using the safety word if needed, Drew lands a couple of taps of the belt on her ass. His rough hands rub the sore spot affectionately. The mix of pain and pleasure leaves her dripping. She needs more from him. It almost pains Y/N.

Drew would never openly admit it to anyone else, but he loves this. He loves to see her under his control. After a few cautious taps, one comes off a little rougher. He flinches, wondering if he truly hurt his Y/N. To his surprise, she moans loudly. His fingers brush against the sore flesh.

On nights when he is feeling extra playful, he likes to toy with her. His fingers are pumping in and out of her as the belt meets her ass. His fingers curled inside of her to make her eyes roll. Her calls for his name fill the room. When he is ready, he slides himself inside of her. Her walls tighten around him as she takes the belt.

They started to get more creative with the use of the belt. On days and nights, when they couldn't possibly wait any longer, he would tie her hands behind her back. Drew would take her doggy style while using her bound hands to keep her hoisted up.

Whenever he needed Y/N to keep quiet, he would place the belt across her mouth. She would bite down to keep from waking up the others in the rooms next door to theirs. He would thrust inside of her with reckless abandon. No longer worrying about other hotel guests complaining to the front desk. Her teeth marks would bear into the leather. Drew would continue to wear the belt around in public like it was his greatest prize.

[big-tiddy-bi]

Without ao3 I became inspired. Ok so being tired of the justice league not helping/believing brakes into the tower while a meeting is taking place to show one of the heroes what is happening I.E. you failed and don’t come here we don’t want you, we don’t need you. You come here and you will be treated as a super villain and dealt with as such.

—————

Danny was sick, tired and powerful. A dangerous combination for most peoples. Myths and legends written throughout every religion every people every and every world based on gods feeling those exact things, and that is the thing Danny closest too, not ghost, not human, but a god. Even if he does not himself as such.

Today was the justice league’s last chance, Walker had decided to change up his tactics. Instead of going after Danny directly he was going to play dirty. Imprisoning 300 living for ”harboring a fugitive”. The justice league was called, one last chance before thing got out of hand. 300 people held captive in another dimension should be a priority for a group called the justice league.

Their response “the justice league contact system should only be used for emergencies, pranks will not be tolerated”. a simple response. directed and to the point. A metaphorical death sentence for the justice league and the people of amity’s faith in them.

No one died, thank the ancients, but blood was spilled. Red and green fell to the floor like water from the large cuts on Danny’s arms and the side of his torso, he was mostly fine, a couple stitches, about a gallon of filtered ectoplasm and a trip to the nasty burger had fixed him up. Meaning that every time he tried to move his arms he felt like he was being stabbed and he could not breathe without pain, which in all fairness was kind of normal for him, it sucked but it was normal.

The real problem was the 300 people I’m the hospital, ecto contamination, not to the extent of being fatal but extremely painful. That could have been avoided if Danny had more help than just his team of 4 other teenage vigilantes and his adult sister.

So after that fiasco Danny did something, else, something more political, he mad deals. With permission from the most important people in town the ones who keeps everything running, IE Mr lancer and Jazz. He also got permission from the mayor, bribed with Danny going to a Green Bay packers game with him.

Johnny 13 and kitty could joy ride before 12 am and after 9am as long as property damage stays at a minimum, a couple smashed mailboxes, broken windows and spray painted cars/buildings paid for by the mayors office was better than bad luck to the entire town and people disappearing.

Skulked got to hunt Danny in a building made for that purpose, Spector-cameras installed in it so people could stream it live to “witness the greatest hunter of the ghost zone”.

Ember got to play her music and travel on tour as she pleased as long as she didn’t mind control people.

Some wouldn’t take the deals but most of the heavy hitters did, it calmed down a lot, but as they say it the calm before the storm.

With the viewers of the “ghost battles” (it was basically a game of extreme tag) and embers fans talking, the ghost situation became a known thing

And again the justice league responded. “we will be there in a month”

No apologies for not believing them no apologies for not helping, just a we are on our way 8 months after the incident and they were going to be there 9 months after. All the people where health again, Walker was punished, locked in his haunt for the next 100 years. The justice league has nothing to do. They have no point in coming to amity. Where they just going to show up, say “sorry for not helping you, welp peace” and then just leave.

Maybe that was the point, that though crossed Danny’s mind as he read the message out loud to his team. They didn’t have any to do, a vanity project, help the small community that they abandoned so that the people don’t go blabbing to the papers, a pr move.

Sam and Valerie had voiced the same opinions on what the justice league was doing. The rest of the team agreed after a short conversation.

This led to Tucker hacking the league computer system to find the next meeting date and we’re it would be held. “Unhackabal my ass” and a plan was made.

So here he is, invisible, intangible and floating above the justice league. Batman walked up to the podium and began to present.

“8 and a half months ago the league got a report of 300 people being kidnapped and sent to the ghost dimension, this was believed to be a prank and filled as such, we were wrong” he said while clicking through slides, some of medical reports of the victims, some of the photos taken of him helping people out of the portal next to the hospital he mad to help the victims faster. Then he said “ this is the city’s resident hero team” the next slide showing the picture of Danny, Sam , Wes, Valerie, tucker and jazz receiving the key to the city. 

“We one know of this misstep because of videos posted online of phantom pictured here” he pointed an Danny receiving the key, another picture of him helping a man to the hospital appeared “and here”

“Do we know who trained them they don’t look older than sixteen” Wonder Woman asked. Before batman could answer Danny revealed himself, though he made his skin slightly translucent to show his bones, it was all part of the plan.

He floated down to the floor and looked directly at her “we trained ourselves”

He turned to face the whole room. “ I am not here to fight you” he said as a couple of hero quickly moved from their seats. “ I came to warn you”

He took in a breath “ I came to warn you, stay out of amity and stay in your lane.” He put a small amount of his ghostly wale into his voice, just enough to shake up their hearts. “ we don’t need you. We don’t WANT you” he cold the room slowly a couple degrees a word. “ do not ask around for us ghosts, do not look for us, if you find one of us. RUN.” He dropped his voice louder as emphasis. “ if you find one of us causing trouble, send us a message, but otherwise don’t acknowledge us or amity, the dead have nothing to give to you” his eyes became fussy staring at nothing green tears fell out of his eyes,and his Lichtenberg scars began to glow Ice blue, but his voice did not waver,.“ you may not have killed us yourself but you signed our death warrant long ago, you have ignored us far to long” is voice soften at the last word.

Then his eyes turns red, as fast as he could he pulled Superman out of his chair and pushed him to the wall. Danny’s hand went intangible as he pushed in into Superman’s chest. His hand wrapped around Superman’s heart, Danny soften the intangibility so Superman could fell the hand but not get hurt. “I can rip your heart out without a single fight” his skin became entirely invisible to show his skeleton. “To all of amity” Superman’s breathing quickened “to me” he move close to Superman’s ear “you are villains, and will be treated as such” he dropped Superman to the floor.

“Stay in your domain and I’ll stay in mine” ice began to form at his feet, looking mor like crystals than ice. “Come to us with please of forgiveness is as pointless as asking of it from your god” ectoplasm dripped from his mouth onto the floor. “Do not come to amity” and with that he went invisible again and watched the room in amusement. He was kinda freaking out at how awesome he sounded.

A couple minutes of silence followed. As John Constantine entered the room, “what did I miss?”

———————-

Hope y’all like it <3 Sorry for spelling mistakes. I don’t think this need trigger warnings but if you think so please comment so I can add them. I started writing this and I couldn’t stop. If only I had that energy for the original story’s I want to write lol Have a nice day/night and drink some liquids that aren’t caffeinated and/or poisonous <3

[witchhazelevesque]

I often see Calypso’s curse described as ‘she’s forced to love anyone that comes to her island’ but that’s not exactly what happens:

“You asked about my curse, Percy. I did not want to tell you. The truth is the gods send me companionship from time to time. Every thousand years or so, they allow a hero to wash up on my shores, someone who needs my help. I tend to him and befriend him, but it is never random. The Fates make sure that the sort of hero they send…” “They send a person who can never stay,” she whispered. “Who can never accept my offer of companionship for more than a little while. They send me a hero I can’t help…just the sort of person I can’t help falling in love with.” … “The Fates are cruel. They sent you to me, my brave one, knowing that you would break my heart.”

Battle of the Labyrinth, 223

The most pertinent bits are in color.

It’s not that she’s magicked into loving someone against her will, it’s that the Fates handpick people she would have loved anyway. As in, they have qualities she admires/values and finds herself able to love (big asterisk here). And the Fates make sure that of those people she could love, they pick ones that can’t stay with her.

This isn’t exactly retconned in House of Hades, but she does shift the blame more to the gods and doesn’t mention the Fates in this exchange:

“They were all the same! The gods send me the greatest heroes, the ones I cannot help but…” “You fall in love with them,” Leo guessed. “And then they leave you.” Her chin trembled. “That is my curse. I had hoped to be free of it by now, but here I am, still stuck on Ogygia after three thousand years.”

House of Hades, 378

But the focus is still on the fact that the people who come to her island can’t stay. The way it’s phrased here, it does makes sense how it could be taken as ‘she’s forced to love anyone’, but that’s not what’s happening.

Her curse is centered around being abandoned while stuck on her island. It’s only a curse because she’s imprisoned. She cites that as the reason she isn’t free from this curse. It’s not a set-and-forget work of magic that controls her emotions. It’s more of an active situation for the gods or Fates, where they orchestrate the delivery of the source of her pain each millennia, and then the rest comes in Calypso dealing with the aftermath of her companions leaving.

That big asterisk: Percy and Leo should not be included in this category. They’re children.

So, why is any of this even happening?

Blame Riordan and his weird, failed attempt to depict Calypso as a teenager; he did a horrible job.

Granted, it wouldn’t have worked no matter what he did, just by the nature of immortality. But he, for some reason, keeps shooting himself in the foot by hammering in her age. I don’t have access to the ToA books but some examples: Apollo saying she was old enough to be his babysitter, the way she got dreamy eyed at remembering things that happened before her imprisonment, the fact that she was there when Zeus was a child (by immortal standards).

Calypso is aware of time passing, and she retains all her memories of the thousands of years she existed, both on and off Ogygia. Time is weird on her island, but it does still move forward. She is literally, emotionally and mentally thousands of years old.

The only leg work RR does to depict Calypso as a teenager is to make her look like a teenager and then try to set up romantic situations with actual teenagers. For comparison, RR has Hestia take the form of a child, but no one acts like she actually is a child.

Later, RR has Calypso do things like want to go to high school and band camp, but that doesn’t make sense. Her wanting to have new experiences does, yes, but not ones that are for teenagers. That’s not indicative of her being a child, it’s more of RR’s lukewarm effort to make her a teenager.

I don’t have some hard hitting point to this distinction, I just think it’s important to know what’s actually being portrayed and how it’s being done. Calypso isn’t forced magically, in universe to fall in love, but she is forced to narratively.

My overall point though is, as usual, be critical of Riordan’s choices. He set up this thing where he wants the audience to believe that Calypso is so compatible with Percy and Leo that even the gods take notice, but it doesn’t work because she isn’t a teenager like they are.

[haveawish]

Miller's Girl Review/Recap

Spoilers for the full movie!!!

No seriously...I spoil the full movie, so if you've not seen it, turn back!!

Cairo is 18 years old bibliophile and inspiring author, who is extremely intelligent, lonely and bored of her life in Tennessee, Cairo's rich lawyer parents completely abandon her, leaving her to dwell in their mansion like a ghost left behind. Cairo seems convinced they don't care about her. That dynamic isn't explored any further sadly.

 Cairo is striving to escape to Yale but struggling with her entry essay. To write about her greatest accomplishment. Cairo realizes she has none, as she’s been insulated in the bubble of her privilege or as best friend Winnie calls her “just another run-of-the-mill generationally wealthy gal living in a haunted ancestral mansion,” 

 The college essay is actually the catalyst for the movie. Cairo needing inspiration and along comes failed writer Jonathan Miller. 

Miller is stuck in his mundane life as a literature teacher, his writing career amounting in a poorly received book and a wife who is more focused on her own career and any available alcohol than placating her husband.It’s unsurprising that Jonathan becomes drawn to Cairo — though his wife exudes sexuality, a good portion of the movie she's in her lingerie, it seems to be no match for Cairos charms.

Cairo is like a breath of fresh air to Jonathan, a young attractive girl who intellectually seems to be on the same wavelength as him and appreciates his opinion and wisdom. He thinks he finds in her a willing protégé into whom he can pour his own unrealized ambitions as a novelist.

Jonathan lets himself be seduced by Cairo’s Intelligence in literacy and flattery. Her being complimentary of  his own book strokes his ego, not to mention her receptiveness to his attention.

Somewhere along the line Miller forgets himself and his boundaries as an educator, treating Cairo not as a student under his care but as a peer and fellow writer.

The movie throws in moments of  mutual attraction and showcases Miller's descent into crossing the line of appropriately, keeping on pushing his own choice of college on her even after she said she was dead set on yale, sharing a cigarette multiple times, inviting the girl to an event after school filled with Miller's friends, looking like a first date as they squeeze next to one another during the reading.

With midterms looming, Jonathan gives Cairo a special assignment: write an essay in the style of an author she admires. An assignment that will soon prove fatal to his career and possibly his freedom.

A mix-up in the classroom lands Cairo’s cell phone in his possession and he breaks another unspoken boundary, he drives to his student house who he is aware lives alone to return it to her.  

What follows is completely up to interpretation of the audience whether or not the two of them confront their mutual attraction. Whether the pair actually shared a forbidden kiss or if they even went further is up for debate. Something may have actually  happened between them at her house. I wouldn’t be surprised if his ‘fantasy’ is actually him recalling their night together when he reads her story.

Cairo delivers her midterm essay inspired by Henry Miller, sent with the note ‘love, Cairo’.

Feeling underappreciated by his wife as usual Jonathan lurks to his man cave where he proceeds to read and masterbate to Cairo’s essay, whether Jonathan is recalling the night or imagining this would've happened between the two is never stated.

The story  in which she thinly disguises Jonathan and herself as her subject and proceeds to write a smutty story almost fanfiction-like of a liaison between the two protagonists. 

 This finally shakes out  Jonathan of his lust filled head to put a stop to things, but unfortunately  for him he's  already gone too far. He's toyed with Cairos growing feelings  much less (potentially) with her body. As the two of them try to navigate the repercussions of their inappropriate intimacy. 

Jonathan tells Cairo to scrap the essay and write a new one; the complete turn around shocks Cairo.  

One day he was this cool teacher who's her friend and potentially her lover, he gives her attention and flirts with her and then next day he threatens her of failing the class. threatening to fail Cairo over the story is the worst thing he could have done in Cairos mind. If he had done it, she would've not been able to go to the college of her choice, Something extremely important to her, which he's well aware of, maybe restricting her to go to any college  at all. Leaving her stranded in Tennessee would have been her worst nightmare.

What follows is the complete ruin of any type of relationship the pair had, Cairo is angry and vengeful. Jonathan's betrayal blindsighted her and as the intelligent girl she is feels that blow to her pride and her feelings. Cairo let's rip at Miller, all his insecurities laid bare, Miller eventually calls Cairo a child and she calls him a coward. 

Him acknowledging her as a child is sickening now that the viewer has seen his actions throughout the movie. To him she's a femme fatale, a fantasy when he wants her to be but when things get real and serious, she's just a naive child and he knows better.

Cairo for all her scheming is still a teenage girl who for the first time has her heartbroken, and that heartbreak turns to cold rage and to get her revenge not even her best friend Winnie is safe from her plans.

Winnie is an interesting character throughout the movie that doesn't get the screen time and depth she deserves.

Winnie is a known lesbian according to Cairo, though Winnie playfully disagrees, claiming to like both as she tells Cairo of her flirtations with high school coach and Jonathan's friend Boris. Although Winnie claims to be interested in Boris, it is obvious to both the viewer and Cairo that Winnie has unrequited love or lust for Cairo.

Cairo offers to make out with Winnie and send a picture to Boris to try to get the coach jealous, perhaps getting her revenge at that moment at the coach rather than her desired revenge against Jonathan. Cairo manages to manipulate Winnie's obvious feelings for her, kissing surprisingly lustfully and hard since it was a supposed ruse, however that moment soon breaks and Cairo dismisses Winnie coldly.

Boris is shown to be a complete hypocrite. His boundaries with students are just as bad as Jonathan despite his denial. The first meeting we see of him and Jonathan is Boris stealing Cairo's erotic novel she had left behind and reading it aloud, completely ignoring any decency of Cairo's privacy. His relationship to our knowledge doesn't go as far as Cairo's and Miller's. However texting a student's personal cell at night is a violation in itself. At  the end of the movie  he tells Jonathan that he “never crossed the line”  in complete denial of how close he could have been in the same boat as Jonathan if Winnie didn't protect him from Cairo's threats. Winnie and  Cairo's friendship becomes a casualty as Cairo blackmails her silence by threatening to out Winnies situation with Boris.

His ‘survival’ for Jonathan's public fall from Grace.

The telling thing is that Cairo didn't lie when talking to the Dean. 

The fact that Cairo told the total truth to the dean leads me to believe that the kiss we saw wasn't real, she was all set to ruin his life and mentioning the kiss would've been the sure way to do that, however she didn't mention it once.

I believe Cairo is many things..but I don't believe she is a liar.

Honestly kiss or no kiss, it doesn't really matter.

Even more confirmation that Miller is not the victim of this story. The dean was asking all the right questions to find out if he did anything inappropriate. The fact that every answer she gave was the truth and the dean looked disgusted is proof in itself. She had a meeting with Cairo first, and Jonathan confirmed everything that Cairo said but was trying to excuse his actions the entire time. The dean thankfully didn't buy into his excuses.

Jonathan Miller is the Villain of this story, his choices were what lead him on this path, he could have done what any respectable teacher would have done and shut Cairo's flirtations down, but his ego and attraction won over his common sense.

Cairo’s actions do not cancel out her victimhood.

The Ending however was a bit too ambiguous for my taste. Through it all, Jenna Ortega is captivating enough to keep me watching. Freeman is completely overshadowed by not only Ortega’s performance, but most of the supporting cast. “like imitation crab in gas station sushi” is a very accurate description to his portrayal of the very one note character.

Cairo Sweet may be the character I will defend absolutely. A morally grey protagonist who deserved better.

[nekrosdolly]

Wesker surviving RE5. Taking a good while to recover. When he final tracks Chris many years later he sees a young woman with Chris. Obviously not Chris' wife.

Chris got a daughter. And Wesker knows how to truely break him now.

Poor girl, she gets hit on by a super hot dude not knowing that he is her dads biggest enemy

listen... this would go fucking crazy... 18+

cw; afab!reader, creep!wesker, reader is 21-ish and wesker is... *gulps*... 61, dad!chris isn't the best dad, i'm projecting big time with this one guys sorry, takes place circa re8, reader is in college, no use of y/n, chris is the kind of alcoholic dad that you don't want your boyfriend to meet because you are, in fact, embarrassed of him, wesker drives a lincoln mkz zephyr.

you look like your dad but prettier. softer, sweeter features than your father's own. your eyes are paralyzingly innocent, and he can't help himself when he lays eyes on you. you're younger than albert by a concerning amount of years, but thanks to your dad's unintentional neglect during your childhood, you've got some issues.

your father never told you about wesker- or anything relating to his line of work. how foolish of chris to not take such precautions with his daughter. you never bothered to ask, either, as you felt some sort of resentment towards your dad in your teenage years. everything he did pissed you off, especially when he was trying to bond. so of course you decided to date someone just as old, if not older than your dad, just to piss him off in return.

that's when you stumbled across wesker. he was handsome for his age, though he looks much younger and you're not sure why. the sunglasses thing confused you, though he'd told you once when you had first started talking that he has light-sensitive eyes. you, being so trusting of this nice, older man who made you feel wanted, believed him and every little thing he ever told you. he'd make you feel so warm inside, and it didn't take long for you to fall for him.

he'd made a show of falling for you, too, to keep you under his thumb. you were the type to flee at the first sign of abandonment; he couldn't have that.

your dad was shocked when you told him you'd found a boyfriend. thanks to your strained relationship, you'd hardly talked to him after leaving for college, which he blamed himself for. it had only worsened between the two of you after your mother left.

and now, at dinner, your dad thinks it's the greatest idea in the world talk about your beloved.

"so," your father starts as he saws through thick-cut steak with a serrated knife, cutting you off a piece, "this boyfriend of yours, when am i meeting him?"

"you want to meet my boyfriend?" you cock an eyebrow at your father, though he doesn't meet your gaze. his own is fixed to the bit of steak he's setting on your plate beside some vegetables.

"well, yeah. must be pretty serious if you told me about him." chris finally looks at you, setting his silverware down. you swallow.

"i don't know, dad."

"what, are you embarrassed of me?"

"i didn't say that, don't put words in my mouth." you stuff a piece of sauteed cauliflower in your mouth as chris sighs inwardly. for the next ten minutes, there's no sound except silverware clinking against your plates and your father's jaw popping here and there.

neither of you can take much more of the awkward silence.

chris clears his throat and leans back in his chair, "listen, i just want to make sure you're dating a good guy, okay?"

"yeah, sure." the bitterness and slight annoyance in your voice is hard to hide. you don't bother.

"is that a crime? wanting to look out for my kid?" he crosses his arms over his chest, getting a little defensive.

"don't you think it's a little late to play dad of the year? i'm not a child, i don't need you to look out for me."

"i know you're not a child-"

"then just stop." you're standing up from your chair, "stop trying to be a bigger part of my life. stop acting like you care. stop."

"fine, you want to be an ungrateful brat?" your dad stands up too, "then get out. take your shit and leave, or shut the hell up."

you don't really have anywhere else to go, so you slink back into your chair and reluctantly finish your food. with all the money your dad gets from his job, he's paying your tuition.

your dad downs the whiskey in his glass and gathers his dishes, leaving you to sit in silence at the dinner table.

-

your father lets the boyfriend thing go until you bring it up to him again, this time on your own.

when you bring it up to albert, he's delighted.

"i'd be honored," he tells you as he leans down to kiss your cheek, he's confident about this, which puts you at ease because you know your father isn't going to take this very well.

-

you're dressed your best, as is albert, who's got his hand on your lower back protectively. he can sense your nerves- uroboros didn't completely burn out of his system- as if they were his own, and he kisses your head as you unlock the front door. based on the black jeep in the driveway, beside albert's zephyr, your father is home. you open the door, and in a flash, you're pushed out of the way.

you didn't expect your father to have a loaded gun aimed at your boyfriend so quickly, if at all. a deep laugh sounds from albert.

"oh, chris..."

[tobiospoiltmilk]

I love you, I’m sorry.

—

summary. in which megumi could not handle avoiding you anymore. apologizing to you by letter, given he could not face you in such circumstances. could this also be an accidental confession?

cw(?). sfw, swearing, !megumi x !femreader, mentions of tsumiki, gojo and your !sister, slight angst, fluff, not proofread, terrible capitalization, reminiscing, reciprocal feelings, childhood friends, mutual pining, things not being casual, lyric/title name mentions (i love you, im sorry, casual, kaleidoscope.), basically megumi is so in love with reader his heart hurts and yearns for her

a/n. omg guys i love this so much agdydhdhsj… very first post so i hope this does well! might consider releasing pt. 2 if it does -sob-

Dear Y/n,

It’s me, Megumi. And before you decide to throw this thing out, or whatever it’s supposed to be… hear me out. Please. I know I haven’t been the greatest to you these past weeks. i’ve been a total jerk, and i’m guessing it really wasn’t a secret now, was it? Yeah… whatever, anyways. I guess i’d like to tell you that i’m sorry. I really, truly am… and i know i don’t seem the type to apologize, but i guess when it comes to you, apologies come easy. Because you deserve every damn apology in the world, and if i had one wish given to me, I wouldn’t… hesitate to use it on you. I don’t know what i’d wish for, but i do know that no matter what, it would always regard to you. When it comes to you, I’m selfish, i guess…? Please don’t make fun of me. i’m only trying to make things right. Not that i should have a say in that right now… because I know i’ve hurt you deeply, i don’t deserve your forgiveness nor your kindness, but yet, some part in my heart believes that you’ll forgive me anyway. No matter what shit, twisted way i had caused pain in your precious life.

Remember when we first met? We were both as tiny as we would ever be in our lives— so pure, (not really applying to me.) You were taking one of those daily afternoon naps like usual, and unbeknownst to you, a tiny me would be lounging around in your own family’s estate— with the exception of a loud and rowdy Gojo speaking to your sister, of course. I remember when you finally woke up, and i got to see that glass face of yours for the first time. you were 8, i was 7. Yet you looked so beautiful with that droopy and puffy post-afternoon nap face of yours. We played til’ evening in the courtyard that very same day. It’s not like you forced me to play dolls with you, i actually kind of enjoyed it… only because you were my playmate. i just wish Tsumiki would’ve been there when Gojo first took me in from those dreading streets. Yes, i was a grumpy little toddler with somehow the ability to summon a specific arrangement of creatures, you never questioned anything about it. An 8 year old like you, and a 7 year old like me, should have no reason to know anything about curses or techniques at our age. it was so cruel, and although you were older than me by a year, i still felt the need to protect every fibre and aspect of your existence. An existence i hold very dear to my heart, every damn night.

Remember our middle school days? Yes, where my grumpiness piqued at an all time high, a burning flame that threatened to burst if not carefully dealt with. I was considered a delinquent— no, i was a delinquent. It’s no use trying to defend that title, anyway. I beat up kids left and right, totally abused my gifted strength to terrorize other bullies and jerks who were entitled to popularity. Hey, atleast i only went after the bad people, haha? Nonetheless, you never considered me a bully, or a bad person. That sweet, little mind of yours thought that little 12 year old me could never do anything wrong. Yet you know every action i did proved you so wrong. You watched from afar as i would beat up several kids above grades older than me at once in an old, abandoned baseball field. A small smile on your face, sat prettily on a bench with your friends while happily eating away at your bento your sister made for you every day for school. And during recess, while i was being the usual grumpy jerk that i was, you’d somehow find away to cheer me up. One day, when things got so bad i almost lashed out on Tsumiki, you were there to comfort me. Your small little hands wrapped around my arm, rambling on about how your day went as if being this close of a proximity was casual in anyway. It immediately snapped me out of whatever bullshit show i was about to put on against Tsumiki’s teasing. Part of me hoped—no, wished the way you were with me wasn’t casual, was it casual?—

—You and Tsumiki were the bestest of friends, given you both were the same age. I loved seeing you bond together, even if i never made an effort to show my appreciation. In conclusion… i was never really necessarily a good person in my life, but during the years you were gone— two years, i’ve managed to learn how to calm down the raging fire burning within my heart. i would think about you and Tsumiki when things would get tough. Whether it be controlling my emotions, or when i’m somehow losing a battle against a curse a slight grade level above me. I always won, thoughts filled with the both of you. Minus the injuries. The most important people in my life. Someday i’ll be able to thank you for your help, and in another life, Tsumiki.

Those days you were absent from my life, i spent reminiscing our greatest memories. Not one memory have i forgotten that the two of us shared. And the one that stuck the most in my head, was the one spent at the hospital when we were 9 and 10, waiting outside the comatose room where your dearest sister lay. You were crying into your small little arms, wailing and mourning for your sister’s comfort yet you knew she wouldn’t be available right now. All you wanted was for her to wake up, why wasn’t she waking up? Your 10 year old brain asked yourself. I watched as you wept from the chair beside you, peeking to see those glossy tears falling from those God-gifted eyes of yours from under your wrapped arms, hugging your small frame. My heart ached so much for you, i swear i was going through heart murmurs at that moment. Little 9 year old me had no idea how to comfort someone… because i was never really familiar with comfort to begin with. The only solution that appeared in my young mind… was to share my red bean stuffed panda bun with you. And so that’s exactly what i did. My small, yet experienced hands immediately got to work, reaching into my little side bag to search for the familiar wrapping on mind. Once in my grasp, i carefully tore the packaging, revealing a wonky, yet delicious red bean stuffed panda bun still warm and ready to eat. Yet instead of stuffing it inside my small little stomach in 4 bites, i tore it in half, not the most symmetrical halves, but it still did the job. And with that, i reached out to give a little tap on your bony shoulder, snapping you out of your sobs as you turned to me with puffy, red cheeks stained with raw tears. I proceeded to (nonchalantly) hand you the other half of my red bean stuffed panda bun— I gave you the bigger side, of course. You deserved it more than anything. Oh the butterflies i felt in my jittery stomach when i finally saw that sad face of yours light up in appreciation and excitement. Especially when your precious smile was caused by little ol’ me. It was safe to say, that we both happily indulged in our savoury snack that day. Not to forget, I also remember Gojo taking us out for ice cream the same day. I wasn’t proud that it cheered you up more than my attempt, but as long as you’re happy, i guess.

When I saw you the first time in 2 years at the Sister School Games Event, i swore my heart stopped beating in 3 exact intervals. I saw a kaleidoscope of bursting colours grow within my blurry vision as i tried fathom if it was really you or not, but that radiant aura of yours that you carry was so igniting, i knew i wasn’t mistaken. It was you, you, you, you. Where did you go, and why did you leave me with no closure? I know i have no place to say whether i’m mad at you or not— in fact, i was more mad at myself than i was at you. I was mad at myself for letting you go so easily, without even trying to reach out to you when your clan sent you away to become a sorcerer at Kyoto Jujutsu Tech. Who were you to leave me behind for so long, only to come back happy as ever, like nothing ever happened? Not that i’m… complaining, obviously…— After those 2 years, you had become even stronger than you were before. Stronger than me, in all honesty. It was hard to admit the fact you were a higher grade level than i was at first, but i’m happy for you regardless. I remember those days when i was the one to protect you from mosquitoes and critters hungry for your precious, sweet blood whenever we’d play outside in your courtyard. 7 year old me, and 8 year old you, were practically inseparable. You loved my divine dogs so much, some days i’d think you only hung out with me to chase them around with mud all over your clothes. You always assured me that you ‘loved’ me more though, if that was casual. I don’t know.

Now… back to what i was saying at the start.

I love you, and I’m sorry.

-To my dearest Y/n L/n.

From Megumi Fushiguro.

a/n. LET ME KNOW IF U ENJOYED IT ?? 😔

and once again, i might consider releasing pt.2 of reader responding/reacting to the letter! who knows, maybe you’ll even spill out some confessions… wink wink.

[frozenjokes]

mumbo killsalot jumbo kills.. a lot.

Mumbo was a monster.

He’d always been a monster, born- well, Mumbo wasn’t sure if he could say he was born or even created.. He existed to take, wilt, consume. He remembered all of it as well, the beginning of his existence, atoms, sickness, taking until he could grow, change, match to his taste, then take and change all over again.

Mumbo did not used to think or feel. He was not big enough to think, only atoms, all he cared to do was grow.

Innocent enough. With most things, that was the goal.

And then he did grow. From a thing, he became a bigger thing, sharing bigger instincts, bigger thoughts, bigger feelings. But something must have gone wrong, DNA or otherwise getting corrupted, switched around, volatile as it was in the first place; Mumbo knew it was wrong, because he had always, always been cruel.

An animal was not a monster for eating. An animal was not even a monster if she killed more than she could consume; it was instinct to kill, to keep for yourself, to fight and defend and take. All she wanted want to live and grow, and it did not concern her what she had to do to accomplish those things at the most optimal conditions. Animals were brutal. They ate each other alive, sacrificed their young, abandoned their fellows in greatest times of need, but these things were necessary, after all, they had evolved to be this way for a reason.

Mumbo, however, did not operate the same way. He was drawn to brutality, relished in it, invented new methods for terrorizing victims of his assault. He was much like a cat in that way, playing with his food, waiting until the doomed thing was too tired to continue fighting, too fatigued from blood loss to continue struggling before smashing skulls when all hope had drained from its limbs. Hope, that was quite a tool. Hope drew out suffering, made meals out of scraps. Carefully, intricately leading a creature into a false sense of security, letting it move on just long enough to relax, then sending homes and burrows crashing down, snatching it up in his claws and consuming every morsel of dread. Betrayal, too, was delicious. A rabbit did not expect a fellow from her own warren to corner her, snatch her throat and eat her whole, still struggling, still breathing. Mumbo went through phases of engorging himself on whole societies, and when he got bored, finding some place new, starting again, innocent and bloodless.

You might expect his first human kill to be from the body of a monster, creations known for their single minded instinct to kill for the sake of it, but Mumbo did not like monsters for that very reason. They were not social, they did not form attachments, and they cared very little whether they lived or died. They made poor meals, nothing but meat and bones, and while Mumbo craved meat just as much as he craved the drawn out cry of senseless suffering, for some reason, monsters never sated him. Perhaps one without the other was no good; there was no point picking bones without the pleasure of a scream as he crushed them in the first place.

No, the first time he killed a human, he had taken the form of a dog.

Never, ever in Mumbo’s existence had he encountered a creature that freely approached a predator, a wolf nearly its size, snarling and circling and ready to lunge. It was a lucky thing that Mumbo did not mean to attack yet, only to scare; he had been waiting for this human to run so he could begin his chase.

It never did.

It cooed and spoke softly and opened its arms for Mumbo to tear it to pieces, but Mumbo did not, not yet, instead stilling in a state of utter bewilderment. He waited for it to run. It did not. It pulled something from a pocket in its clothes, a cookie it looked like, and threw him a crumb instead. With nothing else to do, Mumbo licked it up. The human took a few steps back, not fearful, but delighted, patting its legs encouragingly and throwing another crumb to the ground, further away this time. Mumbo got to his paws, and soon enough, he was following the human to its home.

This had simply never happened before. Even animals that worked together did not tend to share the same spaces for long, especially not hunters and hunted, so this just did not make any sense! Mumbo had to stay, had to find out more, and what he discovered was that humans, at least this one, grew incredible attachments. Mumbo was not the first animal to be lured to this human’s home; far from it. There were at least fifteen other dogs kept together in a fenced in area outside, one they could easily jump if they so chose, but this was not the case. Mumbo was stunned at how much care the human afforded him and the others over the following week, how it brought them all meat, bones, anything a typical dog could want, which seemed to sate the others, uninterested in killing the human when it provided so much meat. They did not care to hunt anymore, not when their needs were met.

Mumbo had been utterly baffled. How could a creature lose the will to hunt, choosing instead to whine and beg at the hands of another? Mumbo tried it, out of curiosity more than anything. Would he too prefer this? The answer after two weeks was a definitive no. So after coming to this conclusion, officially ready to consume and become the human that had nurtured him for the past weeks, Mumbo killed all of its dogs. Put simply, he just wanted to know what would happen. What the human would do, say, if it would even care. Despite seeing its attachments firsthand, Mumbo didn’t really expect it to. He’d never seen anything keep pets before, he did not know why resources would be allocated for such a task. So when the human left for the day, Mumbo systematically tore the garden apart, killing and consuming each and every dog, leaving nothing but the stains of their blood in the grass.

Mumbo sensed unease when the human worked its way up the bend, hearing no howling and barking and whining.

And then, stronger than Mumbo had ever felt anything in his entire existence, he felt the human’s deep, pulsing, utterly overwhelming distress, so powerful it nearly knocked Mumbo off his feet. He was drowning in its grief, its anguish, it filled every sense, danced across his skin like electricity, set every single one of his hairs on end, bled out of his ears, mouth, and nose.

And then it saw him, white fur stained just as red as the grass. It screamed. It ran. Had it seen death in his eyes? Had it known? Mumbo had yet to decide if this magnitude of emotional gluttony was a good or bad thing when he gave chase. Smashing through the slammed door, scrabbling on the hardwood floor, snapping at the feet of the human as it tripped on the stairs, just barely squeaking away, but not for long. Mumbo tore it clean in half in its own bedroom, soaking the sheets. And then he started to change.

And then, taking on a complexity he’d never come close to experiencing, he began to scream. It was so much, too much, advanced versions of emotions he’d never dreamed he could feel in his entire existence. Even the new intricacy of his thoughts was utterly too much; he felt guilt and longing and loneliness and ambition and disgust and shame; how miserable it was to be human, thinking and feeling so strongly all of the time. He couldn’t do it, he needed to escape, so he changed to an existence with no brain, with hardly anything at all. He let himself float, particles in the soil. Back to one goal, simply, to grow. So small, so meaningless, he couldn’t even think to be cruel.

But the taste of humanity was still on his lips, as soon as he’d grown enough to remember it. As frightening, as terrible as it was to be human, to eat a human; as overwhelming and as all consuming that it was, soon, taking another human life was all Mumbo could think about.

So he did. He did it again and again, ravenous, until no other prey would suit him. No other creature made him bleed this pleasure, no other being sated him so completely.

Well.. not completely. No. Mumbo would always want more.

It was a long time before he was brave enough to become human again. More years until he tried a third time, and again, years until a fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh attempt. When the human existence was so painful, Mumbo didn’t even know why he wanted to experience it, but regardless, he could hold the form for longer and longer each time, growing stronger, learning more, even in the face of his inevitable collapse. Soon, after over a hundred tries, he’d managed to speak to his first person as a human himself, but he did not last much longer before taking their life.

It had been a swift, near painless ordeal. There had been no suffering. And yet.

The emotion, the raw energy released from his own heart at killing one of his kind, at the horrified screams and bouts of terror from onlookers; Mumbo couldn’t even finish the meal. Couldn’t even eat the meat.

After that, it was a countless number of days, months, years even, before he could bear to touch a human form again. He still took great pleasure in killing them, though he always used less intelligent forms to do this work. These, perhaps, were his most gluttonous days, drowning himself in dread and terror, taking until he could not stand to take any longer, eating until he could not move. Death, at least for humans, was not permanent here, so sometimes Mumbo would delight himself in stalking the same human over and over, watching its terror grow until it disappeared altogether, leaving only the ruins of unfinished homes. Mumbo always wondered where they went. If they only had so many lives before never returning, or if they were in hiding, somehow beyond his reach.

That curiosity was what pushed him to try being human again. Not hunger. Not gluttony. This time, getting to know the people of this world was not a matter of preparing a meal, but a matter of knowledge. Of learning. The emotion and the attachments it wrought were frightening, but with a little time, became less overwhelming. He did not like them still, could not hold a human form for very long, but it was worth it for the pursuit of knowledge.

And that was when Mumbo learned he could leave. That there were other places, other worlds, and his existence had only started in one of them.

Later, Mumbo learned others had limits on where they could or couldn’t go. Mumbo did not have these same restrictions; in fact, he could go wherever he wanted and no one could stop him, keep him out, and very rarely could he be overpowered.

He liked small servers. Stalking the residents as vicious beasts, taking their fear, their lives, until they stopped coming back. He entertained himself with this for a while, and all was well, that is, until he’d driven every person from the server he currently resided and had to find somewhere new.

To move from place to place, Mumbo had to take a ‘player’ form, an important distinction, because soon it became quite apparent that he was not the only inhuman being taking residence in these infinite series of planes. Regardless, typically he needed to take a human-esc form to travel, which wouldn’t be an issue if he didn’t have to face the magnitude of what he had done every single time.

As boars, bulls, and rams, Mumbo did not care for humanity. He did not feel guilt or shame, he did not fight the insatiable shadow that pulled him to consume, he simply did as he pleased, unthinking, rarely feeling. When he was human, he cared. The human did not like the shadow of cruel desire that stuck to the soles of his shoes, but human did not want to move on to the next world, the human did not want this to happen again. The human did not want this to happen, because it knew at the end of every meal it would have to face the regret caused by its shadow’s disregard.

But the human was still hungry. It still shared the cravings of its shadow, however, in an act of defiance, upon arriving in each new world, the human would linger. The human would build, work, make friends, and play games, and it would not eat to spite its shadow. But its shadow did not play fair or nice. Its shadow carved holes in its stomach, played tricks on its eyes, spoke of sweet horrors that would relieve its pain, if only it were to give in.

Physically, starvation did not make Mumbo any weaker. Even while living off scraps for years, Mumbo never succumbed to hunger-related deaths, though perhaps that was because his mind deteriorated far faster than his health.

To his mind, he always succumbed. Even worse, he relished the feeling. Mumbo the human would disappear, replaced by whatever predator suited him. He would feast. He would drive them all away. And then when it was all over, he’d be forced to reckon with it. The things he’d done to people he called friends. And he’d have to move on, because there was no more food that satisfied him. He’d have to move on, knowing it would happen again.

Often, he wondered if he would ever feel full. Feel sated. It was a fleeting hope that this would all end, Mumbo knew it well, but still his mind wandered. The closest he’d come to fullness was murdering that human in his own human body, but even then, that was more akin to nausea, though some days, he wanted to experiment. To see what would happen if he tried again.

But Mumbo couldn’t. He didn’t want to do that again. If anything, he deserved to starve for the things he’d done to ease the hunger, retreating to the peace of minds unburdened by this severe and overwhelming shame.

But he would not stop. He would not even return to the torture of animals; he couldn’t, not unless he returned himself to atoms, slowly working his way through growth and evolution until he could think again, remember, change back to bears and wolves and bulls, creatures big enough to hunt and terrorize the people at the center of his want. The only meals that felt enough, or, well, as close as enough as Mumbo could get. In the case of animals, he had no choice but to chase the better meal.

But what about as a human?

Mumbo could choose more easily as a human, he could decide not to kill, not to eat, but he’d never quite tried to only consume animals.

Humans ate animals all the time, it was not wrong. Mumbo knew very little about how he attained this information, the difference between right and wrong, but these sorts of things came with all changes, helping him discern social cues. But humans ate animals. So Mumbo could eat animals too. He could make them fear him, chase them, and it would have to be enough, though if it wasn’t, he deserved to feel empty, dead, justice for the lives he’d disrupted, driven from their homes.

Hermitcraft was the longest he’d managed to hold this habit. Mumbo had not been invited here; he never was, but the inhabitants seemed to forget this after a while, not that they could do anything about it. This was the place Mumbo had chosen; a small server compared to many, but something beautiful, something he took a great liking to while scouting it out. He enjoyed the community, friends, all of it, but there was a comfortable distance as well, one that would allow Mumbo to get up to whatever he wanted with little interference.

Though, the more time passed, year to year, Mumbo was more and more aware he was not the only person around with peculiar habits, particularly, gruesome and/or unsavory habits, which was as much of a relief as it could have been. It made Mumbo a little more comfortable, though no less careful.

He would not have anyone believe he was anything less than human. He would not let them know what he wanted with them, desires almost as overwhelming as the blast of feeling he’d been hit with on his first human kill.

It was a terrifying kind of intensity. Mumbo wasn’t sure how much longer he would last here. Rapidly, it felt like he had been slipping. Inhuman hunts just weren’t enough. But it was fine. It was fine. If he needed to escape to another world, he would, just like he’d done in the last two years. He tried not to think about how little time had passed since then, since his hiatus; how quickly the ache of starvation had returned. His shadow didn’t want other worlds. It wanted this one.

Maybe Mumbo could do it at the end of the season. Maybe once they were all ready to move on anyway, that’s when he could take everything he needed, then move on to new worlds and do it all over again.

(But he was starving now, he wanted to consume the world now, and it hadn’t even existed for that long; he’d have to wait months, maybe over a year, and every day he felt his resolve dwindling.)

(Would he start with Grian first? Take his closest friend, revel in this betrayal of trust? It was not that Grian would know it was Mumbo who was stalking him, Mumbo who took the form of any predator best suited for the job, but deep at the back of his mind, Mumbo would know, and he would take great pleasure in it.)

(Or maybe Grian would know. It would not be the first time a past friend had connected Mumbo’s disappearance with the monsters at their backs, gouging, tearing, delighting in their spilled blood.)

(Mumbo hoped Grian would recognize him. He loved when victims called his name.)

The thought left a pit in his stomach. He didn’t want this. He didn’t want to go. But he did. He needed to. But he wouldn’t, not yet, and for all his fear of collapsing to the whims of his shadow, Mumbo did not lack control. Mumbo was not possessed, he was just hungry. He could grow up and deal with it. He would not touch a hair on anyone heres’ heads, at least not with his own hands. He’d certainly slipped a couple times in the eighth season, a little in the ninth even, but never directly. His fingers would never touch anyone elses’ throats.

And no one would ever know.

“Hello, Mumbo!” Someone’s voice came from above him where Mumbo was stewing over his own starvation, in a truly foul mood, though he didn’t intend on letting anyone else know that. He looked up, and despite his mood he laughed, staring up as Cub floated slowly down on his elytra, so slow he was hardly falling. Cub was not a person Mumbo often talked with, both of them airing on the shier side, not to mention somewhat conflicting personalities. Cub was the kind of person who was very free with his desires, even the unsavory ones, dismissing inhibitions and indulging whenever he saw fit, which was enough to set the hairs on the back of Mumbo’s neck on end. In fairness, Scar was the same way, but he was warmer, easier to talk to, and if Mumbo was being honest, sought Mumbo out more than Mumbo went to him. But as passing friends, he and Cub got on fine, neither of them missing the other if they didn’t talk for months at a time.

“What’s happened to you, mate? You get stuck up there?”

“No, no! This is the new thing, Mumbo, the new trend. Everyone’s doing it.”

Mumbo snorted, skeptical, “You’re the first person I’ve seen.”

“It’s a new trend, Mumbo, new. You’d best jump on it before it really picks up, you’ll be in with the coolest hermits around.”

“Ah. I understand.”

Cub smirked, raising an eyebrow as he pretended to miss Mumbo’s sarcasm, “Well then, I just so happen to have a shulker right here full of potions, even a spare elytra if you need it. Free of charge.”

Mumbo shook his head with a small laugh disguised poorly as a sigh, “No, I think I’m okay. Are you visiting everyone like this? Good luck with your trendsetting if that’s the case.”

“Oh, no, I’m not here to- one- give it a second-“ Cub waited until he hit the ground, still laying face down for some reason (if the purpose of face planting in the grass was to make Mumbo laugh, Cub had certainly succeeded), then getting to his knees and brushing off his khakis.

Mumbo clapped, amused, and Cub acknowledged him with a pleased nod, straightening up.

“Scar and I are about to tear each other to shreds and eat the pieces afterward, but he played dirty last time, and the winner- who kills the other first- gets a better share, so I thought I might invite you, really catch him off guard. You can share the winnings of course, I’m less about the prize and more about seeing Scar’s face when he realizes he’s outnumbered.”

Mumbo blanched.

There was no reason for Cub to be here, asking him this. Mumbo was human, as far as Cub knew Mumbo was human, and this was- this wasn’t-

Mumbo swallowed his anger, or maybe dread. He didn’t have to be rude about this. He knew well that Cub and Scar got up to all sorts of.. vex.. shenanigans.. and this was part of it. Cub knew Mumbo was friends with Scar, and he certainly knew that Grian and him were close, so given they were all working together in the permit office, well- Mumbo didn’t really know, maybe Cub just wanted to get to know him. Extend a vex offering of friendship.

Cub didn’t seem to care about the long silence, staring at Mumbo just as eagerly as he had been the moment he’d extended the invitation.

“That sounds unfair.” Mumbo tried, hoping to let Cub down easy.

“That doesn’t bother me,” Cub replied evenly, no less eager.

“Well I wouldn’t want to do that to poor Scar, no, I don’t think so. I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“No?” Cub cocked his head, maybe curious, or maybe amused, “He’s not so innocent.”

Suddenly, perhaps brought on by a wave of hunger induced nausea, Mumbo no longer wanted to dance about the issue. “I don’t eat people, Cub,” he said firmly, anger or maybe fear spiking under his skin, his shadow screaming in protest, but he ignored it.

“You don’t?”

Mumbo was having a lot of trouble telling if the question was genuine or if Cub was just pretending. There was a little too much intention under his voice, which Mumbo took as a threat.

“I don’t.”

“Well you could just help me kill him?”

“I don’t kill people either.”

“That’s not true. We all kill each other.” Cub did sound genuine this time, confusion so clear that it made Mumbo feel guilty for assuming malintention, but at the same time, this was really a conversation he didn’t want to have.

“I don’t, Cub. I don’t.”

“Do you want to watch, then?”

Mumbo struggled not to be frustrated, but he was fighting a losing battle. “No, Cub! I do not want to watch. I want nothing to do with this.”

Cub deflated at that, quieting to the point where Mumbo almost felt bad, but he didn’t feel bad, because Cub was being ridiculous and honestly quite rude, and for goodness’s sake Mumbo did not want to have any part in this!

“Well,” Cub said finally, shrugging off his dejection, “You know where to find me.” His elytra flicked to life on his back, Cub producing rockets as he turned to leave. But he lingered, as if waiting for something. Mumbo did not say goodbye. He did not ‘know where to find Cub,’ nor would he want to find Cub in the near future for any reason.

Cub flew off.

Mumbo watched. Ah right. He’d been planning some landscaping before he’d gotten distracted in the spiral of his own mind, hm.. maybe he could ask Scar for some advice?

No. Not Scar. Not now. Mumbo would wait, at least a day to be sure. Maybe a couple days. Just to be safe.