#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.

[zipadeea]

Just for the first time getting just how much Fiyero must resent Glinda now. The movie shows Fiyero riding out of Shiz after the announcement about Elphaba, and Act 2 is basically Fiyero continuously showing us what he's prepared to sacrifice for Elphaba (spoiler alert: it's everything). And I'm assuming Glinda and Fiyero must talk about Elphaba and how things really went down with the Wizard in the years in between. So for Fiyero to find out that Elphaba asked Glinda to come with her and she said no? She abandoned Elphaba in her moment of greatest need, when Fiyero was riding out to find her, to help her the moment he heard the news....like, yeah, I get it from Glinda's side too, this isn't a fair assessment of her, I know. But from Fiyero's perspective i would just be so angry.

[uraveragelonelysapphic]

welcome to my masterlist! here, you'll find everything i've ever written! enjoy!

Marvel

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Another Love- You meet Wanda at a grief group, as she’s struggling to heal after Vision’s death. Will you help her heal? Will your friendship grow into something more?

Under the Weather- You’re not feeling the greatest, but your girlfriend is there to nurse you back to health.

A Happy Ending- Wanda has to choose between you and Vision. But will she make the right choice?

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Keep You Warm- You are stuck in a freezing cold safe-house in Alaska, but luckily Nat is there to provide you with some warmth.

Not a Monster- After coming home from Wakanda, you meet a certain red head recovering from rejection and show her she’s capable of being loved.

Rocky Road- After Bruce disappears, abandoning Nat, you help put the pieces of her broken heart back together. When Bruce comes back from Ragnarok and professes his love for Nat, will she reject him? Or will she break your heart and run back into his arms?

No More Hiding- You’re a super soldier fresh out of the ice, so it’s your first pride month. And you get to spend it with your girlfriend.

Enough- After Wanda cheats on you, you’re heartbroken. Luckily Nat is there to pick up the pieces.

All I Ever Asked- Promises are hard to keep as an avenger.

Yelena Belova x Reader

Always- You have a nightmare about your days in the Red Room, but Yelena is there to comfort you.

Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x reader

Proud- After a not so pleasant dinner with your homophobic mother, your girlfriends are there to give you the support you need.

When They Remembered- Wanda and Nat forget your birthday. But will they remember before it’s too late?

Part 2

Take Care of You- You’re sick, but luckily your girlfriends are there to help.

Deserve- Sometimes your doubts and insecurities become too much to handle. But your girlfriends will always be there to remind you how much you mean to them.

Invisible- You feel invisible, and your powers don’t help with that fact. Can two redheads and a team of superheroes change that feeling?

Wanda Maximoff x Yelena Belova x reader

Starting Anew- You lost your mom. Yelena and Wanda lost a mentor figure. But can something good come from all this loss?

Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova x Reader

Festivities- Yelena has never had a normal Christmas before. Time for her girlfriends to give her the best one yet!

Soteria- You struggle with being kept a secret by the team and the insecurities of not being good enough. After a hostage situation, your girlfriends reassure you of your worth.

Rio Vidal x Reader

Gentle Love- She may be Lady Death, but to you, she is your sweet love.

Home- She's fading away from you. Is the love you two share enough?

Part 2

Agatha Harkness x Reader

Agatha Harkness x Rio Vidal x Reader

Lavender- Nature had always been your life. How fitting that it could now cause your death.

Miscellaneous

Colt Seavers x Reader

Danger- you have an issue with your boyfriend’s addiction to danger. he doesn’t see the problem. but will he see it when the shoe is on the other foot?

Colt Seavers x Jody Moreno x Reader

Sane- You’re going crazy on a miserable set with a miserable director. Thank goodness you have two wonderful things that keep you sane.

Shelby Goodkind x Toni Shalifoe x Reader

Calm in the Storm- You are not okay. But you are also not alone.

Calliope Burns x Reader

Only You- you and Calliope had something going on that had yet to be labeled. so when your friend Juliette starts to take a liking to the girl, should you be concerned?

[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.

[hailturinturambar]

A Dark Obsession: Sauron and Galadriel's relationship

This analysis is not thought of in romantic or sentimental terms. But it seeks to understand how such opposite beings, separated by light and darkness, are able to coexist and even understand each other's deepest ambitions.

And to understand how this thread of darkness tied the destinies of Galadriel and Sauron, we need to remember how it all began. Or rather, who they were at the beginning of time when the world was young and there were no names for death.

When the world was young and the Valar ruled Arda, Melkor, who would become Morgoth, destroyed the peace in Middle-earth and Valinor, causing the destruction of the Two Trees.

With the help of Ungoliant, Morgoth darkened Valinor and the Valar despaired. With his servants, Morgoth returned to Middle-earth and brought pain and suffering to Elves and Men.

Galadriel was right. The Elves knew no words for death. The days in Valinor were golden and filled with good fortune, despite the malice of Morgoth. In the beginning, there was greater harmony. But, enraged by the loss of peace in their home, the Elves set out from Middle-earth in many companies. And Galadriel's family was present at the great pilgrimage.

The prophecy of Mandos was spoken, and sorrow and grief accompanied the journey of the Elves until the end of days. While Galadriel and the House of Finarfin fought against the forces of Melkor, Morgoth plotted in the darkness. And he was aided by his servants, and the worst of these was Sauron, his greatest lieutenant.

Like many elves in Middle-earth, Galadriel fought valiantly against the advance of evil and the forces of Morgoth. She was the sister of Finrod Felagund, mighty in wisdom and power.

Finrod ruled the elves while he fought against the enemies of the shadows. But even the mighty fall. And this moment defined, in the context of the show, the rest of Galadriel's days.

Marked by loss and grief, Galadriel realizes that she cannot live in peace until the last enemy has fallen at her feet. Morgoth has been destroyed, but Sauron, now greater and more terrible, stands ready to doom Middle-earth. Finrod's task becomes hers. It is her destiny to destroy those who condemned her brother to the cold and lonely halls of Mandos.

However, when anger and resentment remain attached to our souls, spirits and minds for too long, we become a little of what we seek to destroy. Hatred consumes even the noblest light. And Galadriel takes a path she had not foreseen when she decided to hunt Sauron and the evil he created. Who hunts whom now?

By the irony of the Valar or fate, Galadriel spent ages hunting Sauron, facing the furious weather in Helcaraxë and with nothing in her heart but revenge, Sauron was without fair form and struggling to survive in the depths of Middle-earth. The more you hate something, the more you attract it into your life, indeed.

Galadriel is alone on her journey, the elves are tired and weary. Ages have passed and Sauron has disappeared, there is no longer any reason to suffer a pointless search. Galadriel is forced to return to Lindon and abandon her pride. But is this enough for her?

No, I don't think so. Galadriel is a fighter, forged in steel and grief, after so many ages of fighting Morgoth and Sauron. She is unable to stop, she cannot stop. Her body and mind know only one path, revenge. Perhaps, because when the stars shine in the sky and the world sleeps, she is unable to move on until those she has lost see the sun rise once more.

Gil-galad senses the darkness slowly overflowing Galadriel's spirit. Hatred can be intoxicating until it becomes impossible to live without. She must now depart for Valinor and live in peace, a reward for her years of toil and hope of destroying Sauron.

The disagreement between Galadriel and Elrond, in my view, is the first sign of how the evil born of revenge is beginning to infiltrate Galadriel's mind, clouding the reason and light of her thoughts.

Elrond is wise and understands the suffering of Gladriel, his dearest friend, but he still realizes that this task will only cause more pain. He must convince Galadriel to give up her pursuit.

"Then why is it not gone from in here?"

It's a powerful scene. Galadriel touches her chest, her heart as she speaks passionately about what she's feeling. She couldn't let go of the hatred in her heart, could she? Evil can't let go of Galadriel's heart. Because this evil is not Sauron, this evil is her own desire for ruin and destruction against her tormentor.

This thought, however, is dangerous, since Melkor himself felt this way when faced with the punishments of the Valar.

Honestly, Galadriel's words to Elrond don't sit well with me. Doesn't he know the evil she has seen? This is vile, Galadriel. If we look back at Elrond's past, he has seen enough evil. The evil that has befallen his family, his people, himself.

But Galadriel is too blind to understand that many have suffered in Middle-earth, just as she has. Unlike them, she is trapped in the past. Leaving for Valinor is no gift to her. Not when she has lost so much, when she has suffered so much. Not when she has been given the pleasure of beholding again the beauty of the land of the Valar while the dead live in darkness.

It is not pride alone that compels Galadriel to abandon ship, but her own suffering. Ulmo, have mercy on her, for the waters of Arda are bearing her to meet the being who has caused her greatest grief.

Adrift at sea, Galadriel is taken to a group of shipwrecked people and that is when her path and Sauron's path meet again. Did he know who she was? I would say yes. Sauron knew his enemies, those who hunted him. After all, he killed her brother, how could he not know? Surely he felt a perverse pleasure in knowing that she would never recognize him.

Sauron is the Great Deceiver and this is his moment to entangle Galadriel in his plots. Sauron knows lies and nothing else, so Halbrand is there to test our minds. He is not Sauron at first glance, just a man. And he is as he weaves his deception.

There's a suspicious voice in my head, and it's asking to be heard. Honestly, when I first watched the first season, nothing about Halbrand really bothered me at first, but now I see things differently. So, let's talk about the worm.

In the prologue of the second season, we have the ship with the men of Middle-earth who are leaving in search of a better future, Númenor, perhaps. Sauron is with them when the worm attacks the ship. But, Sauron survives the attack of the creature. Even though it comes towards him in blind fury, it does not harm him.

So this quote right here will define what I'm saying here:

"Sauron was become now a sorcerer of dreadful power, master of shadows and of phantoms, foul in wisdom, cruel in strength, misshaping what he touched, twisting what he ruled, lord of werewolves; his dominion was torment. He took Minas Tirith by assault, for a dark cloud of fear fell upon those that defended it; and Orodreth was driven out, and fled to Nargothrond."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion

Sauron knew Galadriel's family and, most importantly, he commanded the beasts of Middle-earth. I understand then that the worm did not attack him for that reason. But why would the worm attack a second time, right where Sauron was?

I don't believe Sauron planned the second attack, not at first. However, when Galadriel comes to the shipwreck and he recognizes her, I suspect this plan has formed in his mind. All the mortals on the ship die, leaving only Galadriel and Halbrand. He is alone with her and can spill his lies.

Sauron, did you call the worm to be part of your great deception? I bet you did.

Were all of Sauron's actions evil? It is very difficult to say. Sauron did indeed repent when Morgoth was defeated, but he did not follow the Valar's will and fled to Middle-earth. However, this proves that he can repent, but that he simply refuses to do so.

So he could also do good, but he chooses not to. With Sauron, there are no right answers. His deception is too strong to affirm or deny. Still, he saved Galadriel and that changed the course of their journey.

There is a point during the time that Sauron and Galadriel are adrift that generates a lot of mixed opinions. Sauron was apparently vulnerable and letting his grief show. I believe he was, in part, vulnerable. Not because he was romantically interested, after all, they barely knew each other for that. But because his entire life had been turned upside down.

Sauron spent eons formless and wandering in the depths of the earth, bereft of his kingdom and his power. It is to be expected that he would be vulnerable. But, as I have already analyzed about Sauron and Adar/Galadriel/Celebrimbor, even when Sauron is being honest, he is being honest through lies that allow him to achieve his goals.

And now Sauron and Galadriel have arrived in Númenor. Was it at this point that Sauron considered destroying the people of Númenor? It is emphasized in the books that Sauron feared the people of Númenor because they could rival him in strength and power. They were a threat, and Sauron meets his threats with the same strategy. He destroys them.

Something I find very interesting about Sauron's character is how he shapes the desires of those around him. As Celebrimbor said in season two, Sauron plants ideas in your mind and makes you believe that those ideas were always yours. He does this with Galadriel.

Sauron regretted at first, but he did not return to Valinor and atone for his sins. Why would he be otherwise now? As much as I love the idea of ​​Halbrand in Númenor, I am not blind to the fact that he did not exist. Could Sauron have stayed in Númenor and lived as a mortal? I doubt it. His thirst for power, his desire to rule, to heal Middle-earth, would have grown stronger in time.

And in my view, Sauron has been doing reverse psychology with Galadriel. When he says he wants peace for himself, that he wants to stay in Númenor and start over, it is not how he would have her understand it. As a mortal man. But when Galadriel sees it that way, she despairs. She wants him to fight with her against Sauron, against the evil that has also hurt him, as it has hurt her.

Galadriel has spent eons without her husband, whom she loved so much and lost in the war against Sauron, she has lost her family, and her friends believe she is becoming the evil she hunts. Halbrand is her salvation.

And Sauron's refusal only increases her efforts. That's his big deception, isn't it? Pretending you don't want something, just to get it without having to be honest.

When Galadriel fights the boys, Halbrand watches. Was he watching as an enemy? Honestly, I don't think so. I believe that once he realized that she trusted him and was following his plans, she was no longer a target for his malice. His demonstration with the sword incited her doubts, fueling her belief that he is the lost king.

But he keeps refusing, he keeps denying that he wants to leave for Middle-earth. Galadriel and Halbrand are in conflict, Míriel allowed the sending of the ships and will help the people of Middle-earth. But the king of the mortal people refuses to leave. Galadriel tries to convince Halbrand, but she did not foreshadow that conversation.

Behind all the deceit and perversion, I would say this was Sauron's most sincere moment. Wearing Halbrand's skin, he talks about the evil he has done, the suffering he has endured. And Galadriel understands him and feels sorry for him. Sauron knows it is only because she does not know his true face. Sauron is doomed to be accepted only when he assumes a form to please/deceive others. Morgoth, Galadriel, Mirdania, Celebrimbor.

Galadriel will not stop fighting, she is incapable of it. She will leave without Halbrand if necessary. Is Sauron compelled to leave? No. He uses Galadriel's insistence as a way to further guilt her, I will delve deeper into this shortly. I suspect he left because he could not resist the temptation to heal Middle-earth. If Sauron were capable of love, he would love Middle-earth. But it is a dirty, twisted love, born of malice in search of corrupted good.

And Sauron can finally take revenge on Adar. Sauron and Galadriel are ready to fight the Orcs. Galadriel confronts Adar head on and this moment changes many things in her. I believe that at this moment, she understood how anger and revenge were condemning her soul, contaminating it. And she wants to repair this mistake.

Then we have the conversation between Halbrand and Galadriel after Adar's interrogation. In his twisted and deceitful way, I believe that Sauron saw Galadriel as his equal.

A powerful being who could stand by his side in healing Middle-earth, as he stood by Morgoth, partners. She could be his salvation, as he was hers. The problem with the fantasy idea of ​​salvation is that it often comes with deceit and despair.

Adar's final attack either foils Sauron's plans or not. Halbrand's wound is indeed a chef's kiss. Was he really hurt, or was it just an illusion? It's hard to say. But I'm sure he planned for his vulnerability to bring him closer to Galadriel. And indeed it did, when she took a mortal man to an elven kingdom, only for him to survive.

Galadriel has grown attached to Halbrand. He has seen the darkness in her and has not been frightened or rejected her, as she thought others had done. Halbrand ends up becoming her only ally.

Did Sauron expect Galadriel to fight him in Eregion? No, I don't think so. The two of them set off for the Elven realm, and Halbrand receives the help he needs. He is in the right place to achieve his ultimate goals. And Celebrimbor is within his reach.

That's how a third act in a play ends, isn't it? Halbrand's mask hasn't slipped. Sauron is just slipping into his lies because he's too confident to be careful. And who knows, maybe deep down he believes Galadriel really will follow him.

Celebrimbor was the deciding factor in Galadriel's unraveling. Galadriel was already wary of Halbrand in Eregion, who after his healing became very close to the forge and Celebrimbor, but I think she continued to deny the truth to herself. Refusing to see what was before her eyes.

Celebrimbor's words, however, cannot be a mistake. Adar spoke these very words to her. Words that Sauron spoke to him. Words that could only have been spoken to Celebrimbor through Halbrand. Seeking the lineage of the kings of Middle-earth is her last attempt to trust that Halbrand was honest, and it is all a mistake.

Halbrand seems different now, his words don't ring true and Galadriel notices the difference. She has spent weeks at Halbrand's side. She doesn't recognize this man.

"I will never forget that. And I'll see to it that no one else does either."

The words I said I would elaborate on later. Is Sauron grateful that Galadriel saved him? That's not the point here, but rather the guilt he places on her shoulders. Galadriel helped Sauron return, gave him the confidence and strength to fight in Middle-earth, at least that's what he wants her to believe. He would do all these things with or without her. But guilt is an aphrodisiac and once it sets in it's hard to fight.

The masks have fallen and Sauron no longer needs to lie. But did he really lie? He told Galadriel that he found the crest on a dead man, he was truthful. He said he was not the king she expected, true. He said he had done evil, true again. The problem with Sauron's honesty is that it is never total. He is truthful through the lies that will benefit him.

Sauron was surprised by Galadriel's refusal to stand by his side, indeed. I imagine he had not expected it. He had glimpsed the darkness in her, and had certainly expected her to yield. Could this be the point of no return?

In a final attempt, Sauron tests Galadriel's barriers. He speaks to her with the face of Finrod, who died by his hand. How did he think this would work? But the distorted image does not soften Galadriel, it strengthens her, so he tries again.

He takes her to the sea where they were adrift together, where they met and she began, even if unknowingly, to trust him. That vision has the opposite effect. It tarnishes the memory, distorts all events. Sauron then appeals to Galadriel's desire for power.

Gandalf was right, Sauron does not share power. But he can use this to convince Galadriel, even though they would not be equal in power. She could be strong at his side, feared and revered. The real manipulation is to claim that he would not be so dark with her by his side. It is too much of a burden for her to bear.

Galadriel's refusal infuriates Sauron. As discussed before, he does not take rejection well. And if Galadriel will not be by his side, he will destroy her in return. Galadriel is strong enough to escape, and Sauron is now far away.

All that remains is the weight of his lies and the void he left behind. Galadriel has been deceived by the one she pursued for so long, and she will have to deal with the consequences.

Galadriel's rejection begins Sauron's dark obsession with her.

In the second season, Galadriel and Sauron are estranged not only physically, but mentally. Sauron's lie still burns deep within her. While Sauron is in Adar's camp planning his new deception, Galadriel pursues Elrond.

Elrond is devastated. He has seen the worst of the Silmarils' effects and how obsession can hurt so many. After discovering that Galadriel deliberately lied to him, he sets out from Eregion with the Three Elven Rings to warn Gil-galad.

Gil-galad is furious, and rightly so. In her desperate quest to destroy Sauron, Galadriel has allowed the enemy to draw near. Are the rings the elves' salvation or their destruction?

Elrond and Galadriel, friends for centuries, are on opposing sides. Gil-galad knows that Celebrimbor must be warned immediately, while he discovers whether the rings have been corrupted. Elrond, however, leaves with them.

Galadriel disregards Gil-galad's orders countless times and he continues to trust her. He knows that she would never help Sauron if she knew, that she would not use the rings for his purposes. While they search for Elrond, Sauron arrives in Eregion and Celebrimbor is the new victim of his lies.

Sauron isolates Celebrimbor from the Elves, but he does not banish Galadriel from his mind. He pursues her, trying her strength, trying her darkness. The sight of Celebrimbor stirs the guilt she feels.

Galadriel fears that she is responsible for Sauron's return, and Sauron exploits this. Celebrimbor's death would be at her hands, he practically says, as he calls her name, preventing her from moving away from his power.

Gil-galad tries tirelessly to open Galadriel's eyes, to dispel the idea that Halbrand ever existed. No matter how justly he used it, he was always Sauron, her enemy.

Elrond, however, is too hurt to be fair. He fears what the rings might do, he has been through it before and he still suffers from it. Galadriel turns to her friend once more, wanting his support, his help, for someone to take the burden of guilt off her shoulders.

She fears giving in to Sauron once more, being seduced by his words and promises. She feels used and needs help to resist temptation, she knows that Sauron has not forgotten her. Elrond confronts her, he does not trust her, he fears that she will give in to Sauron once more. In Elrond's mind, if Galadriel does not refuse to wear the rings, then Sauron never abandoned her.

Did Sauron think of Galadriel in Eregion? I bet he did. She rejected him, scorned his promises, and resisted his power. He will not rest until she is as corrupted as he is. And Mirdania certainly reminded him of Galadriel. Deceiving Mirdania is fun, because he remembers Galadriel and how she escaped his deception.

In Eregion, Sauron is definitely busy. To forge the rings, he needs to corrupt each of them with his power, his malice, as he cannot with the Elven Rings. Galadriel was right, he did not corrupt them, and so he desired them all the more.

To prevent Sauron's plans, Galadriel sets out with Elrond and the elves of Gil-galad. It is not, however, an easy journey. Elrond is being harsh but fair with her. He fears for her and is resentful and above all, he is afraid of the rings. I do not believe that Elrond was angry with her, not out of malice. But rather out of fear of this new power.

But Galadriel is also hurt. She resents herself for trusting Sauron, for still thinking of him in part as Halbrand. It is frightening to accept the truth. She suffers from guilt and from being judged by everyone. She suffers, most of all, from having been deceived by Sauron.

Galadriel’s grief grows as she journeys, accepting that her hands are stained with blood, because evil drove them into the forest and Sauron deceived them, or so she believes. For all the evil caused by Sauron, Galadriel blames herself. And she speaks to Elrond.

Because she is desperate for companionship, for someone who can understand her fears, as Halbrand used to. She fears that Sauron knows her mind and that he can rule them all. She begs Elrond to choose the world, above her, if it will defeat Sauron. She will only assuage her guilt by sacrificing herself.

The Orc attack leaves everyone unprepared. They are close to Eregion, confirming the elves' fear that Sauron is already in control of the city and Celebrimbor's mind. Is this the moment when Galadriel chooses to surrender? When there is nothing left to lose and she knows that if the ring falls into the hands of Adar or the Orcs, peace will be shaken in Middle-earth.

If obsession had a name, it would be Sauron.

The rings of the people of Khazad-dûm are ready and working, or so they think. Sauron is having results with his plan. He can control Durin III's mind, intoxicating him with his power, slowly corrupting him, but he needs more.

Men need Rings. If he cannot control the Elves, he will need as many peoples bowing at his feet as possible in Middle-earth. And he does indeed intend to recover the Three Elven Rings. And Galadriel is his gateway.

The funny thing is how obsessed Sauron has become with Galadriel. I would say rejection caused it. Sauron is in Eregion forging rings, following his plan, dominating Celebrimbor's mind, but still he is thinking about Galadriel. Why doesn't he forget? I don't think Sauron is used to being rejected.

He thinks of Galadriel when he looks at Mirdania, doesn't he? The blondness of her hair, her elvish features, her innocence about his true nature. It is like deceiving Galadriel all over again. But he feels successful with Mirdania, because she does not distrust him. She has not suffered at the hands of Sauron's malice as Galadriel has, and that's why Galadriel notices him, she's very distrust and be marked by darkness.

He didn't need to talk about Galadriel while he was trying to deceive Mirdania. There was no reason or purpose in his plans for it. But I believe it's because he was obsessed. Sauron was obsessed with many things, all related to those who rejected him. Adar and his army, Galadriel and the Elves. The more he is rejected, the more he thinks about those who rejected him.

And now Galadriel is in the hands of her greatest enemy and ally. Adar suspected Halbrand, and yet he allowed him to escape. Now he needs Galadriel's help and her ring to destroy Sauron.

Like Elrond, Adar forces Galadriel to confront the truth. How consumed she was by Sauron’s destruction, blinded by the vengeance in her heart that she could not even recognize the evil that lay before her.

And most of all, Adar understands the emptiness that Sauron’s deception leaves. When he fills you with promises and beautiful lies, encouraging your mind to believe him, to desire what he is offering, only to suffer when he betrays you.

Galadriel says she resisted Sauron, but did she? She rejected him, abandoned him, and thwarted his plans. But the power he offered, the possible healing of Middle-earth, stuck in her mind, seduced her, even if she would not admit it.

Galadriel has drunk the wine of Sauron's words, as Adar had drunk the wine offered by Sauron ages before. But Galadriel cannot bear to admit that he has almost convinced her, even to Adar.

And she does not know whether she can trust Adar, and his empty promises. Destroying Eregion in Sauron's place is a price she is not willing to pay. The destruction of her beloved elven kingdom cannot be the solution.

Galadriel had no idea how deep Sauron's plans and evil were. And how strong Adar's determination to destroy Sauron was. Lindon's army arrived to protect Eregion and prevent the Orcs from destroying all the beauty and goodness of those people.

Everyone is desperate. Sauron needs Celebrimbor to finish the rings while Eregion is under siege, and Elrond needs to convince Adar to withdraw his army. Scheming, Elrond helps Galadriel escape, and she sets out among the people of Adar, trying to deceive the Orcs.

In the trenches, Galadriel see Arondir. This is her moment of clarity. Arondir is blinded by revenge against Adar, seeking to cover the wound caused by the Uruk. Just as Galadriel was blinded by revenge against Sauron when she returned to Lindon, when she decided that she could not bear to live in Valinor as long as Sauron lived. Galadriel cannot allow Arondir to be tainted by darkness as she has been.

When Galadriel arrives in Eregion, I believe she finally understands who Sauron really is. Since the revelation, Halbrand has remained in her mind, Sauron a vision not quite real. But the destruction of Eregion changes all that, Celebrimbor's suffering changes that.

Did Galadriel suffer when she saw how Celebrimbor mutilated himself? I am sure she did. Her beloved friend is wounded, his kingdom destroyed, because of Sauron. So she blames herself. For having trusted Halbrand who is Sauron. For having led Sauron to Eregion. For not having resisted Sauron's temptation long enough.

The forging of new rings is the final straw. Galadriel understands Celebrimbor's guilt and will not rest until she has redeemed herself and her friend. She accepts the rings to take them far away, away from Sauron and his dominion. Just as she intends to escape his dominion.

This is the moment everyone has been waiting for. Galadriel has not encountered Sauron since his revelation, and she knows she cannot escape him forever. When she is taken to Adar, she struggles to believe that together they can right the wrongs of Sauron and the Orcs.

Galadriel is tired of fighting Sauron, as Adar was tired, as Celebrimbor was tired. So many ages of war and revenge have consumed her completely and she believes in Adar, she has no choice but to trust him.

Meeting Sauron again is a painful surprise. There he is, the evil of Middle-earth, the Dark Lord, the destroyer of Eregion and the bane of Elves and Men. But behind those words, she had once known him as Halbrand. The contrast between Halbrand and Annatar must have hurt Galadriel deeply.

Sauron fights not only Galadriel's body, but her mind, her spirit. He is ruthless in his attacks, attacking without mercy. But it is Sauron's words that cut deepest, the illusions he forces Galadriel to endure.

She can either follow Sauron and save Middle-earth, or she can be destroyed by him if she rejects him again. Worst of all, Sauron actually believes his words. That he would make Galadriel his queen to be fair, that they could save Middle-earth, that they could bring peace.

There is no salvation for Sauron, and he cannot fulfill any of his twisted promises. And Galadriel no longer believes in his illusions, even though to Sauron, they were real. His own truth.

Sauron says he doesn't want to hurt Galadriel, and I believe that's true. Just as he didn't want to hurt Celebrimbor. But he manipulates and betrays and doesn't accept when others abandon him, so he feels forced to hurt his opponents.

Sauron is as Celebrimbor said. The Great Deceiver who is able to deceive himself.

The Halbrand that Galadriel knew has changed and only Sauron remains. Galadriel, however, has also changed. She recognizes the pull of darkness, but she has changed. She is no longer the elf who fled Valinor and lied to Elrond, who defied Gil-galad. Galadriel is stronger and she will no longer let Sauron enter her mind. The mind he knew is gone.

"The door is still open." "The door is shut."

Sauron understands that despite all his attempts, despite all his deceptions, he will no longer be able to entice Galadriel, because she refuses his advances. Galadriel chooses death instead of him, to protect the elves, to protect her mind from him.

Sauron is once again alone and rejected, accompanied only by his power and ambition.

Did Tolkien ever consider Sauron to be obsessed with Galadriel's light? Galadriel has always been a strong opponent, great in power and light. Mighty in mind and wisdom. She would be an even better ally.

"I say to you Frodo that even as I speak to you I perceive the Dark Lord and know his mind, or all of his mind that concerns elves, and he gropes ever to see me and my thought but still the door is closed."

― J.R.R. Tolkien, The fellowship of the ring

Sauron is doomed to corrupt everything he touches and remain alone. He will never have Galadriel's mind to control and corrupt, because she knows his mind. And because she is stronger than the darkness in him, her light will continue to repel Sauron's advances throughout the ages.

And Sauron's obsession with Galadriel will never end. Wanting to know her mind, as she knows his, and as he once knew hers. Wanting to corrupt her light and turn her to his side. Wanting to convince her mind that his path is the only path.

Last words: Remember what I said a few days ago. This analysis is not romantic, mine are not and never will be. Everyone has their own opinion and way of understanding the show. And this is mine. Don't waste your time hating different views and couples. Let's take advantage and share our thoughts in harmony. Because this analysis is how I see the dynamics of Galadriel and Sauron, not yours, nor anyone else's, just mine.

And I don't even want to attack anyone with the analysis, so there's no reason to be attacked either. This fandom already has enough hate, the world already has enough hate. Let's be kind to each other! :)

[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.

[damn-stark]

Chapter 32 The demon and me

Chapter 32 of Moonlight

A/N- :)))))

Warning- talks of postpartum depression, PTSD, ANGST, swearing, violence, blood, and DEATH. SPOILERS!! FOR FUTURE EVENTS OF HOTD, USING FIRE AND BLOOD, long chapter.

Pairing- Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!fem-reader, Cregan Stark x Velaryon!fem-reader

Episode/Pages- 539-549

(If you want to be tagged let me know)

————

And there it is…the change in the way they look at you the moment the word coup fell from your lips. As if attempting a rebellion is a far greater sin than burning part of the city.

What if it had been one of the two men sitting around the table who had suggested the same plan? Would they have looked completely horrified then? Would they have thought of that man as the world's great savior? As if he had come up with the plan to bring peace to the world?

“A coup?” Your grandfather questions you and leans toward you to look at you with pity before he continues to speak softer as if he is speaking to some sickly person who couldn’t understand. “Do you know what you’re suggesting? Peace is at last closer than ever. With your marriage to Aegon, the feud between the Targaryen family has come to an end and with some tactical words the line drawn between the kingdoms can at last lift and we can all become one again…”

His mouth keeps running, words laced with deep pity keep spilling but you stop listening as you try to understand what he’s saying and where he’s coming from. After all, it’s been a year since the war started, and the losses have been significant, so maybe there’s some reasoning behind his words.

It’s just a falter within you, but you do start leaning towards understanding him and the need to embrace peace again.

However, in the silence created by you tuning out your grandfather, you then see her; your mother's ghost haunts the hall.

You see her broken body across the room and her dead eyes fixated on you before you hear the faint echoes of her crying out for help, causing you to snap out of your senses.

How could you possibly abandon your fight and your plan for revenge? How could you possibly forget about her?

If you stop now, who keeps fighting for her?

So no, you can’t stop, nor can you falter again.

“Don't tell me you haven’t thought of it?” You cut off whatever your grandfather had been saying and narrow your gaze on him to try and uncover his answer, but he masks himself well, so you look at Lord Larys next and raise your eyebrow to press your rhetorical question.

“How good of a King can Aegon truly be?” You continue and sit back against your seat. “He’s never had the mind for politics or diplomacy. I doubt he learned a thing about how to rule a realm while he was away. And this will be inappropriate, but,” you pause and clear your throat. “Our marriage hasn’t been consummated because he can’t get. It. Up,” you whisper and see your grandfather and Lord Larys squirm in their seat while Baela drops her head to hide her teasing smile.

“So tell me how fruitful can a broken man be in our greatest time of need?” You query as you loll your head to the side. “Aerion is but one boy, if something were to happen to him what do we do then, hm? With Aegon the younger at The Wall, who continues our line then?”

Lord Larys and your grandfather share the same knowing look, but neither of them interject with an argument that can possibly outmatch yours.

“It’s true that a rule under Aegon brings no fruitful future,” Lord Larys cuts in this time. “But who do you suggest we put in his stead? Prince Aerion?”

You sit up straight and in your silence the three of them figure out your answer to their question; you. You want them to implant you as the ruler. And why shouldn’t it be you? You’re already Queen, you were your mother's chosen heir, and you, unlike Aegon, know how to rule.

“Need I remind you that you set fire to part of the city,” your grandfather protests without so much as thinking about it. It’s like he was prepared to argue against the idea. “The moment we implement you as the ruling Queen, the people will demand your head. Riots will be spread over the atrocity you committed,” his voice gets louder and meaner, and your face starts to harden as your patience wears out.

“You are lucky they are not asking for your head now,” he continues to argue with more anger. “It was completely—”

“Mind your tongue Lord Corlys,” Ser Cane cuts your grandfather off. “She is your Queen.”

You put your hand up and peer over to offer him a nod that tells him he can stand down. “Go on,” you urge your grandfather, and he doesn’t hesitate.

“It was completely stupid,” he spats and leans forward once again. “I thought you had sense. You were level-headed and now that you have gone and done that you have dug yourself in a hole that we may not be able to help you out of.”

You hold his gaze with your eyes slowly starting to fill with tears while your throat starts to sting even though you expected his response. You knew that your actions were going to be brought up and used against you, but even still, hearing your grandfather scold you rattles you for a small moment in time.

“What would you have had me done instead, huh?” You don’t fail to counter with your eyes still glossy and your throat still stinging. “They killed our dragons and ran my mother out of town!” You raise your own voice as you slam your hands on the tabletop and push yourself to your feet—“Would you have them go unchecked?!”

“The people who rose up their own false kings against—”

“But that's not it!” You cut him off. “They killed our dragons!” You throw at him again with your face twisting with your quick-rising rage. “Our power. The symbol of our house! Our connection! If they went unchecked they would have stopped fearing us, and anytime they disagree with the crown they won’t think twice to rise up against us because there’s nothing to stop them, nothing looming over their lives because we are no longer close to the gods in their eyes without our dragons. We are just like them. And now...I fixed it,” you scoff. “Now they won’t dare and think of arguing against the crown because they know that there are consequences. We are not the same. We are still gods…” you trail off and catch the sound of your heavy breathing as your grandfather challenges your hardened glare still brimming with unshed tears.

“Her grace,” Lord Larys pauses and draws in a deep breath, pulling your gaze away from your grandfather to now look at him and wait.

“…could have served the Smallfolks' punishment differently,” Lord Larys continues without daring to look you in the eyes. “But alas she is right, they should fear the crown if we are to continue peacefully, but,” he pauses and sighs before he steals a glimpse at you and continues. “Why should we consider your coup? Besides the points you already gave, why should we risk our lives to continue this war when we have the chance to finally end it at the tip of our fingers?”

You narrow your gaze further, making him once again avert his gaze. You don’t answer right away, choosing to let him think of reasons you might give to him specifically. Maybe he’ll even get a hint as to why you choose to trust him out of all people.

“Why?” You interject and step away from your seat to start stalking toward Lord Larys. “Why should you risk your life? Well,” you sigh, and when you reach his seat you stop beside him and pierce your glare at him. He doesn’t peer over at you even though he feels your stare burning through him. He just watches the tabletop with his nose flaring with every breath, and his fists clenched tightly.

“Need I remind you that you sent assassins to come kill me and my son here in the Red Keep,” you reveal and finally gain Baela’s wavered attention while your grandfather starts to look disgusted.

“While I was with child at that—”

“No—” he cuts you off to argue but you slam your hand on his shoulder and squeeze it tightly as you now interrupt him.

“There’s no need to deny it. My mother would have never tried to kill me, and I do admit I had been getting back at Aegon before by revealing my ability to him, and well…I had my ways to figure it out,” you roll out and lift your hand off his shoulder, but don’t move right away, you continue to watch as he grows tense and scared rather than nervous.

“That’s why you’ll help me,” you continue and start to walk with your hands clasped behind you and your nose pointing to the air. “Because if you don’t, well, I’ll reveal your secret and execute you.”

Lord Larys clears his throat and nods stiffly without attempting to add anything in his defense or attempting to argue against you because everything you said was true, and how can he deny it when you somehow found out?

“Another reason, the main reason as to why we need to keep fighting is because…” you trail off and slowly and unknowingly lower your head, losing the cockiness and the confidence you had mustered to keep your nose pointed high as your mind is invaded by your mother.

“…just because my mother is dead doesn’t mean her fight is. Not as long as I live, and…” your voice falters and your throat starts to sting again. “…Remember she died fighting for what rightfully belonged to her before Aegon killed her. I saw her burn to death and then torn apart because she fought for what was rightfully hers,” you pause and come to a stop at the other end of the short wooden table and clench your jaw and your fists as the corner imbued by the shadows of the hall taunt your mind by making you think she’s dying there again and again.

“I see her die in the darkness every time I close my eyes. In my sleep. And in every corner touched by darkness,” your voice slowly grows quiet with every word coming out of your mouth, but it doesn’t break this time. You speak smoothly yet there’s this eeriness haunting your every word as you speak, making the silence in the hall deafening.

“I even see her in places touched by the light…I see her in my brother who is not really my brother. Not anymore.” You shake your head and let your tears well up as you refuse to let them break out of your eyes. “Because now as he gets older he’ll look at me the same way my children look at me…A mother. There’s no telling if he’ll remember our mother. Even if he does I…will still be his mother because…”

Your grandfather utters your name with pity laced in his voice as he tries to get you to stop, but you ignore him and turn to face them as you continue in the same eerie and soft voice that haunts the hall and brings chills to the back of their necks.

“…His own mother. Our mother…won’t be here for him anymore because…she’s dead…she’s dead!” Your voice suddenly booms, breaking the silence of the room and startling Baela and making your grandfather huff—“That’s why we will continue to fight this war until her blood is on that throne, Lord Larys. Grandfather, and every single damn person who wants to ask me that same question! We will risk our lives because our fight did not end when she died! Her death brought the start of the end,” you say and walk back to your seat to sit back down and pull out scrolls you hid in your clock and throw them on the table, showing off the sigils that are marked on the broken wax.

“Lord Stark and all the Riverlords have agreed to continue fighting with me until the end,” you reveal, causing your grandfather to sit up to take the scrolls and read them for himself. “Rhaena has agreed to fight alongside me and Astraea with Morning, and with her, the Vale follow. The Greyjoys won’t turn down a bloodbath so they have also agreed if they win their fight against the Lannisters first. I need to send word to the Reach, and Alyn. I was hoping you could send word to Alyn, Lord Corlys, while I send word to The Reach.”

Your grandfather lowers the scroll in his hand, whilst Baela reaches for the scroll Rhaena sent.

“Tell him that we will continue to fight to put Aegon the younger on the throne,” you reveal, making the silence in the hall once again go deafening as they all now stare at you in disbelief.

“Not Aerion. Not me,” you pause and wait for an argument, for a word of encouragement that it should be you, but there’s nothing of the sort. Thus you continue. “But my mother and Daemon’s last living son. The realm won’t go up in arms when they hear he’ll take the throne, and peace could be long living with him married to Jaehaera. If you all agree with her being his betrothed that is?”

“You would rise up your brother as king?” Your grandfather questions you, causing you to drop your gaze and nod without hesitation.

“I would. With good advisors and his sisters at his side, he would be easily molded. He could be the best king this realm has ever had,” you say in your brother's defense. “I just need your help to make that vision a reality.”

“I’ll help,” Baela is the first one to interject, making you lift your gaze to find her.

Albeit she averts her own gaze when yours lands on her.

“I…will too,” Lord Larys chimes in after her as if he had a choice. “But how do you plan to get rid of King Aegon?”

You reach your hand back without uttering a word and right away Ser Cane walks over to give you the flask of poison Alys had sent you.

“You have his trust,” you direct at Larys. “I want you to put a drop of this in his wine, tea, or whatever the hell he drinks. It’s slow acting, it’s going to deteriorate him from the inside out.”

“Poison? That’s your plan?” Your grandfather asks with judgment.

You scoff and place the flask on the table so they can all see it. “For him? Yes,” you retort. “The armies at our side will get rid of Lord Baratheon’s army and whatever resistance is left here, but Aegon will be poisoned because it’s the smartest choice. It’s my choice and you will respect it,” you hiss and he once again challenges your pointed gaze, but can’t win so he backs down and nods.

“Don't give him the poison until Lord Baratheon is gone. Which shouldn’t be long, I’ll give it to you then.”

“You’re certain it will work?” Baela asks.

“Yes.” You nod. “Someone I trust made it. They wouldn’t betray me. It will work. We just have to trust each other. Peace is a guarantee after that.”

You raise your eyebrow to press them, and Baela and Larys both nod in comprehension while your grandfather lets out a deep breath and continues to pass doubt.

“And if I refuse? What will you do then? Poison me? Gut me here and now? Or burn me alive like you did those people?”

You don’t explode with anger like they all assumed. You don’t glare at him or clench your jaw. You look at him with the same look that’s been haunting your face since your mother died; with deep and agonizing sorrow.

“Not you,” you respond softly, and then in the flash of a second you raise your chin and your face hardens just a bit. “But I do hope you do not refuse and instead think about what my grandmother and my father would have wanted.”

It’s a low blow, but it’s what gets him to drop that judgment and doubt and finally give in.

“Very well. I will help you too.”

You let out a relieved sigh and nod lightly. “Thank you. All of you. You may go now. It’s late. I’ll send word when we need to reunite.”

With every argument voiced for now, both men head out whilst Baela gets out of her seat and walks to the door but hesitates leaving.

You sit up and hold your breath in hopes she’ll say something. You want her to say something, but she ends up leaving instead, leaving you with Ser Cane in your solitude where you drop your shoulders, draw out a deep and shaky breath, and let tears break out of your eyes at long last.

“Ser Cane?” Your voice quivers with vulnerability.

“Hm.”

You drop your head and drop your hands on your lap to fiddle with your rings. “Do you think they’ll ever look at me the same way they look at the men? Admiration rather than uneasiness? If I had been a man they would have looked at me like I was Aegon the conqueror, but I saw the way they looked at me…” you trail off to a whisper as you let your guard down and let your agony and insecurity take over. “They’re tolerating me. They look at me like I’m a mad, grief-stricken woman, and I am grief-stricken, but if I had been born a man they would think I’m strong for having so much fire left in me to continue fighting after losing so much.”

“Those men you fought with at Tumbleton respect you. They all look at you like a hero,” Ser Cane instantly tries to comfort you with positivity. “They all asked about your well-being when your dragon took you.”

You nod softly. “Yes, I know, but the men that support the crown will they ever look at me like that?” You ask and stop fiddling with your rings to catch every sound that comes out of his mouth.

“You want the truth?” Ser Cane makes sure to ask.

“Please,” you press, making him sigh deeply and walk closer to give your question an honest response.

“I think that having a female ruler scares them because it makes them feel small. So no I don’t think so. But you have the fire to make them feel otherwise if that’s what you want,” he says in a sweet and soft voice, making more tears run down your cheeks.

“I’m tired,” you say in a broken whisper. “Waking up is a chore, taking in breaths to keep myself alive is exhausting, and now I have to muster the energy to keep myself on top of these men…and the truth is I don’t know if I have the strength to hold my place on top of them. I just want to burn them all and start over again.”

“But fire won’t fix that now will it?”

You shake your head as a response and leave a heavy silence before you stand up and interject. “I’m going to see Astraea before I go to bed.”

Ser Cane sighs deeply as he’s tempted to argue against you and force you to go to bed instead, but alas you are his Queen so he just goes with you instead, because otherwise you would sneak off and he would rather have his eyes on you than have you go behind his back.

“<Hello girl>,” you coo at your dragon when you find her in her usual spot, and run your hand along your dragon's scales.

Astraea growls softly as she pushes her head toward you so you can press your hand on her snout quicker.

“<How are you feeling>?” You ask her as you examine her wounds not so raw and red anymore, but still deep and visible, and still hurting her. “<I know I haven’t been able to tell you, but you’ve done good>.”

Astraea closes her eyes as you stroke her snout so you then bend down and press your forehead against her flesh and close your own eyes to bask in the serene silence between you and your beloved dragon.

“<It's just me and you>,” you whisper against her scaled snout before you pull back and offer her a faint smile. You then proceed to sit down beside her head and lean your side against her as you watch the starry horizon reflecting peacefully over the sea water's surface like a mirror reflects your figure.

You’re tempted to express every thought that’s running through your head. After all, she won’t talk back, she can’t express her opinion, nor can she watch you with beady judgy eyes. Astraea will remain silent, she’ll look at you like you’re all that matters in the world, and she’ll listen.

Albeit as tempted as you are to let out what weighs you down, you find serenity in the silence where even the waves crashing a few feet away from the cove are quiet.

The thought of your mother doesn’t make an appearance, your hatred for Aegon is in the back of your mind, and the meeting you just had is forgotten for now. The one thing you have in your mind is a yearning for the past.

“<It's times like these where I miss Aemond the most,” you tell your dragon resting her head near your lap. “Not because he would’ve been much of a support for what needs to be done. The truth is he wouldn’t have been a big fan of anything I’m doing now, but I miss…having him. Having someone to hold me and share my pain.>”

Sharing your thoughts with someone who can’t give you any response makes you look a bit mad, but you can’t keep it all inside. You need to talk to someone. Besides, it feels relieving to have someone to talk to.

“<He…wouldn’t have judged what I did. He would agree that it needed to be done. And I’m not looking for praise. Just…someone to be there, and he would have been there. My Aemond…>” you trail off to a pause and drop your head to let out a deep sigh. “<I'm afraid of what Cregan might think. His morals aren’t like mine, he…hasn’t lost—he just wouldn’t know and the one person I could fall back on with guarantee is gone along with everyone else.>”

Astraea breathes out and you scoff softly and pat her side before raising your head and looking out with a sense of longing for what used to be. And it’s while you’re in your silence that you catch the sound of the rickety door opening before multiple steps walk out.

You don’t look back right away, you drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes and listen.

“Princess,” someone calls after a deep labored breath. “I mean, My Queen.”

Just by the sound of their voice, you know who it is, but you hesitate to stand up and give them your attention. You’re disgusted by the mere sound of their voice so it costs you even acknowledging their presence.

“He was persistent,” Ser Cane interjects. “But say the word and I’ll drag him out.”

You sigh deeply and share a glance with Astraea before you push yourself to your feet and then slowly turn to face none other than Ser Jason in the flesh and out of his cell.

“My Queen,” Ser Jason greets before he falls on one knee and bows his head, letting you pierce your gaze into the back of his head before you snap your head up and avert your gaze to avoid looking at your sworn protector whatsoever after he betrayed you.

“Please,” he throws out and then falls on both knees. “Forgive me. My intention was never to turn against you. All I have ever wanted to do was keep you safe, and that’s what—”

“You could have fought against them,” you cut off his pathetic rambling. “You could have saved my mother by raising your sword against them, but instead,” you growl as you speak. “You pointed your sword against me like a pathetic coward and watched my mother die.”

Ser Jason shakes his head. You don’t see it because you don’t look at him, but he shakes his head while his eyes peel back wider as he becomes more insistent.

“No, no, I couldn’t have fought against the entire party. I would have died the same way the Kingsguard did. I—”

“But you could’ve tried!” You blurt and ball your hands into fists. “But instead you cowered. You could have tried! You…” you trail off and clench your jaw before you swallow back a thick lump of emotions that build up and threaten to make you weep at the mere thought of that day.

“…you let me down. You betrayed me that day just to save your own skin like a pathetic. Coward,” you spat and try glancing down, but even the thought of looking at him hurts more than it angers you.

“I was,” Ser Jason cries and falls on his hands. “I was a coward. I saw my mistake, but I swear I just wanted to save you because I know you, and I know you would have risked your life to save your mother and I…I couldn’t let it happen. That’s why I had to turn my sword against you, but my heart. My heart never turned against you…” he trails off into a whisper and you find yourself looking down and catching his gaze glimmering as the stars light point out his tears clinging in the corner of his eyes.

“My mother,” You whisper as your lips twist to a scowl. “My mother is dead because of you,” you press with your gaze reflecting your usual grief and ache that paints your face. “If your heart was with me you would have died trying, but you turned against me…and now you’re free and what? Working for Aegon? The man who killed my mother in front of me?”

Ser Jason parts his lips but nothing comes out but a breath of air because it is true, he’s free and now in Aegon’s court as his protector because he turned against you that day.

“It's a real shame that you carry Daemon's blood in your veins,” you say with melancholy now that your mother resurfaces and takes her usual place in your mind. “Because you are a real disappointment. I'm glad he never got to know you.”

Ser Jason’s pained look falters as he feels wounded by your words, but he still remains apologetic, hoping that you will have mercy and take him back.

“The only reason I don’t kill you or out you to Aegon is because I want you to live,” you mutter and crouch down to be at his level and look at him with agony and rage alike. “So you may always remember that you will always be nothing. No matter what titles you don, you will always be the bastard boy from Flea Bottom who’s father could care less about.” You nod softly and study him before you press your face closer to him. “I hope you live the rest of your life remembering how big of a failure and a coward you are. Anywhere you may find yourself and at every stage of your life.”

You swallow back thickly and then stand up to shove past him and return inside without another word or even a look back. He’s not forgotten, but for now, you want nothing to do with him.

——

*THE NEXT DAY*

“Her Grace, the Queen!” The knight announces to the small crowd that consists of people awaiting their judgment, and a small selected court that can’t measure to the power it once was before the war

However, even if the court and the Smallfolk awaiting their fate are leagues away in social standing and basically everything else, they all currently share a common factor as they all stand under the same roof, and that is looking at you like you personally wounded them.

They carry that disgust and resentment. Aegon is front and center, and the one responsible for all the misery that has befallen your realm, but in a room with traitors and dragon killers you are the worst, and why? Doing what you know was right?

Whatever, they can shoot you all daggers they want, half of them will die today, and the others will never live to be you or anything similar, so you just keep your nose in the air, and keep your face melancholy whilst you take your place behind Aegon. Not beside him where you’re meant to be since you are now his Queen, but behind him like a shadow meant to be seen but completely ignored.

That’s what you are, a shadow. Nothing. Before, you were something, but you took it for granted.

Which is funny to think about really. For so long you craved being someone much more than what you were without realizing that you in fact were bigger and illuminating, but now?

Now you stand behind Aegon completely forgotten and having to look at him the same way Aemond did when Aegon was crowned for the first time. You don't realize it, but Alicent does as she stands nearby watching the death sentences be passed—she sees the envy in your eyes the same way it darkened Aemond’s eye that day. And even if Aegon isn’t half the man that he was then, you still look at him with resentment because he still holds the same power, and the power you have fought so long and hard to obtain just like Aemond once did.

If looks could kill or actually burn, yours would the same way Aemond’s would have, so it leaves Alicent with one thought, should she do something to stop you? She couldn’t stop Aemond, but she can stop you, so should she?

“You stand in the presence of King Aegon of House Targaryen, Second of his name, and his Lady Wife, the Queen of House Velaryon.”

You tilt your chin up to get a better view of the boy who is brought up first to face his judgment. A young boy who was once brave from what you have heard because he was the one who took the Red Keep and sat the Iron Throne after your mother fled. Alas, what good is his bravery and great achievements now that he’s on his knees awaiting death?

“For crimes against the crown and rising up against your King, you Trystane Waters are sentenced to death,” Ser Alfred Broome announces without prolonging the matter. He gets right down to business because it’s all clear. Nothing needs to be brought up or argued.

“Any last words? Do you wish to challenge your sentence?” The traitorous man asks only out of courtesy not because he respects the boy's rights.

“No,” the boy Trystane mutters as he refuses to let his head hang low in defeat. There was a change in his eyes from only moments ago, but he seems to hold onto his pride—“I just request one thing…May I die as a knight? That’s all I wish for. I won’t protest my sentence, I just request that one thing.”

You drift your eyes to your side expecting to meet someone’s gaze to share speechless comments on the matter, but alas, no one stands by your side. You can’t even attempt to meet Aegon in the eye because he’s in front of you, so you’re left just shifting your gaze ahead and finding the request interesting.

“What say you, Your Grace?” Ser Alfred asks Aegon as he passes the attention to him.

“Well,” Aegon sighs and taps the armrest of his wooden throne with his palm. “What harm can it bring?”

He looks to the man standing beside him; a man called Ser Perkin the Flea, and passes him a quick nod that makes the man step forward and bestow the boy with his request of knighthood, and donning him with a new title and name to follow.

“Rise Ser Trystane Truefyre,” the man proclaims, and so the boy does, but the moment he stands on his feet, Ser Alfred approaches with too much excitement and your Valyrian sword, Blackfyre in hand, and with no more time to waste, he swings the mighty thing across the boy's neck and slices his head clean off.

When the head hits the floor as if the sound of the flesh thumping against the ground, and his blood squirting out over the ground hurt you, you gasp in response and take a big step back. Not because you were suddenly affected by the boy's death, because that’s far from the truth. You go stiff with fear, and all the color flushes from your cheeks because you’re struck with violent flashes of your own mother's death; of her single limb being all that remained of her in a pile of blood and burn marks.

You’re overwhelmed by the echoing sound of her shrieking, and of her crying out for help even though she never did such a thing that day. Your mind plays cruel tricks on you by making you believe so and in doing so burying you deeper in your paralyzing panic to the point you forget where you are and think you’re back in that traumatic day living the same moment over and over again.

You don’t breathe, but you do. You take in quick and heavy hyperventilated breaths, but it’s not like anyone cares to notice except for Ser Cane who drags you aside and shakes your shoulder to snap you out of your stupor and force you to start breathing calmly once again.

“Your Grace, it's okay. You’re here. You’re okay,” he whispers gently and cups your shoulder with a soft and almost ghostly touch. “Look at me. You’re okay.”

You let out a shudder and slowly find his eyes, finding a sense of serenity in the depths of his gentle soul while also slowly grasping that your mother is in fact not yelling out for help. She never did. And she’s not dying because she’s already dead, and you’re trapped here in the Red Keep as Aegon’s wife.

“I am…okay,” you murmur and pat Ser Cane’s arm before you walk away and return to your spot, noticing at that moment as you’re walking back that Alicent is watching your every move. This time she doesn’t carry disgust or horror. She’s not being judgemental and she’s not looking down at you. Her big brown eyes are filled with concern after unbeknownst to you, she also noticed your panic. She just did nothing about it but stand and watch.

In any case, you don’t pass her any speechless gestures to let her know you’re okay. You just briefly hold her worried gaze before you yank your eyes away and return to your spot, catching as a little boy no older than five is taken away by servants, while the people who seemed to have supported his short reign are all dragged out of the throne room, leaving only one man left to hear his sentence; the same one-armed old man who claimed to be a prophet.

The man with bare feet is yanked in front of Aegon, and he, like the boy turned knight from before, doesn’t beg or ask for forgiveness or mercy. He stands at his given height with a more prideful air around him than that of Ser Trystane. It seems that the old man hadn’t let go of his delusions nor regretted his actions that brought the end to the dragons and your brother and mother.

And that enrages you more than the sight of Aegon and Ser Jason. You hate that he’s so calm and unaffected by what awaits him. He seems defiant and confident even though he’s looking at death in the eyes.

“I know the fate that awaits me, false king,” the old man spats. “It’s a fate that awaits us all. That’s why I don’t fear it. Nor should any of you once you stop kissing the feet of these sinners!” The old man proclaims and then throws his stump at Aegon. “We shall meet in hell before the year is done!”

Aegon scoffs and slaps his hands on the armrests of the wooden throne to push himself forward and be closer to the old man spitting out madness.

“Except you!” The old man then points at you before Aegon can interject. “There’s a special place in the Seven Hells for you Fire Demon! You shall rot there with the woman you called mother!”

Without warning you set off after him in a quick and stomping stride after being triggered by his boldness.

“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” you hiss and manage to reach him and slap your hands around his throat since your hands are the only things you can use as a weapon. Anything potentially dangerous was out of your reach out of fear you’d just kill Aegon—which they’re right to be cautious, but you also aren’t that dumb to kill him in front of the audience.

“Perhaps…you should…have,” the man strains to say. “You would have shown the world the real monster that was born to Rhaenyra Targaryen.”

You squeeze tighter and shove him back. “Don't you dare speak her name!” You bark and tighten your grip with the attempt to end his life here and there, but hands grab your arms and overpower you, yanking you off the man and causing you to let out an animalistic grunt before you snap around and face none other than Ser Jason stopping you once again.

However, you ignore him and shove past him to stomp back to your spot.

Yet, before you can return to being a shadow, you’re stopped by Aegon. “Why don’t you return to your chambers? It’s clear that you can’t handle your emotions toward this man.”

You squint your eyes to look at him baffled by what’s coming out of his mouth. “As Queen,” he interjects the moment you parted your lips to argue. “I wouldn’t want you to create another scene and embarrass the crown.”

“What will you do with the man and what’s left of his followers?” You ask between gritted teeth.

“I have it handled. This business shouldn’t worry you anyhow. Go.” He lets out so easily as if talking to fragile Helaena, and besides that, he’s also using this…almost taunting tone

“Your Grace,” you say mockingly and storm out with your army of ladies-in-waiting, handmaidens, and your own guards. Do you return to your quarters like the king wanted? Hell no.

You head to a part of a castle that overlooks the sea that sits behind the Red Keep. A place where Helaena and you used to like going to admire the horizon from inside.

Nevertheless, a while later another pair of footsteps join your solitude. A pair that is too heavy for you to confuse them as the late Helaena.

“Your Grace.”

“I’m your granddaughter too, you know,” you mutter to your grandfather without having to peer over to see that it is him. You recognized his footsteps and once he got close you recognized his scent.

“That should come first when there’s no prying eyes “ you add and then slowly turn around to give him your attention.

“If that’s what you wish to claim,” he says and proves you right to keep your guard up.

“Am I not your granddaughter the same way Baela and Rhaena are?” You press and take a step toward him with your eyes slowly narrowing. “Am I not your son's only daughter? Am I not your wife’s granddaughter?”

Without shying away or turning small like someone else would, he challenges your glare and shrugs. “I look into the eyes of a girl I know, but I’m not sure that the person you claim is still there.”

You swallow thickly and feel your entire being falter before you quickly rebuttal in High Valyrian. “<What would you have had me done?! What do you want me to do? Sit idly by as my mother's killer and his traitorous allies still breathe air?! Huh?! Tell me! Because every time we’re in the same room you always bite your tongue. So tell me,” you spat out as you push your head forward. “<The guilty party had been apprehended,” he argues without needing to be told twice. “I would have had you done nothing! I wouldn’t have let you burn down all—>”

“It always comes back to that!” You cut him off abruptly and take a step closer to continue throwing out your incoming thoughts. “I did what was necessary! Why can’t you see it?! It had to be done! I am not a monster! I am not a monster,” you repeat in a shaky whisper. “Now there’s only a handful of the old man’s followers left to kill. The numbers were greater before, but I helped.”

“By killing a hundred other innocents in the meanwhile,” your grandfather retorts as he keeps holding your gaze.

“Okay,” you whisper and nod in comprehension without having anything to counter with because deep inside you know what you did and the tragic result of it. You don’t regret it but you do admit that something else could’ve been done.

“<So what, you're going to have me not kill Aegon? Is that not right?>” You bring up instead with spite clinging on to your every word.

“<No,” your grandfather responds in Valyrian. “It needs to be done. I understand your reasoning. I too would want the same.>”

“<Then?>” You quip. “<Would you have me be nicer to you and the other Lords? Do I need to be the perfect wife? Is that what you want me to be in this game?>” You add a questioning hum as you tilt your head and take the last step forward to try and be more intimidating.

“<Because I know that I don’t want to sit by and let this injustice go unchecked. I will do something. I will play my part in this game. That’s what I want. That's how I stay alive, so tell me now what you want. Do you want to be a part of this? Or stand against me and do nothing? Because if that’s your answer then I will make sure you don’t see the tomorrow we build.>

Your grandfather looks you up and down and then scoffs before he steps back. “Seeing an enemy in everyone you lay your eyes on will get you killed,” he says softly. “Your father would be disappointed.”

Your anger falters and a wave of agonizing sorrow hits you, but you don’t show your defeat to your grandfather. You keep your eyes narrowed and your lips in a scowl.

“<Borro’s is sending his men against the Crownlands along with some of the king's men. And the lords who give up their fealty to your mother will be brought to swear their new loyalty to Aegon…That’s what I came to tell you while you were alone. I wanted to come check on you too. That was my plan, but alas,>,” he sighs, making you blink repeatedly and keep your eyes on him for a lingering moment before you nod softly and then whisper in return.

“Okay.”

Your grandfather watches you, but you pull your eyes away and stride away without sharing another word. You leave the tension as it was after being defeated by his hurtful words.

Why does he have to be against you too? Growing up he wasn’t as affectionate as your grandfather Viserys was toward you, but he still showed you kindness and affection in his own way. Now after everyone has died and so few members of your family remain, you should stay united, you should support each other and show each other kindness and love, but alas, he’s determined to be against you. He protests against every single thing and nothing you do satisfies him. He’s so cold and only lectures you or scolds you when you want him to…just support your choices so you can know you have someone to rely on.

Alas, he along with everyone else has drawn a line and stands at the other side…

Nevertheless, rather than sinking deeper into those dark thoughts and falling deeper into the deep abyss, you end up making your way to your children’s quarters to avoid retreating to the solitude of your chambers.

You would say that on a surface level, you don’t know why you make your way to see your children after avoiding them since you returned to Kings Landing, but the honest to god’s truth is that you do know why you finally drift toward them. That’s not saying that you’re ready to be their mother because you’re not ready in any shape or form to be the mother they need. Not yet. Not until you have rid this realm of Aegon and all the traitors that still breathe air, but you find yourself lifting your black veil fallen over by grief, and let your eyes fall on them without any ill feeling muddying your vision.

Albeit when you finally walk into your children’s quarters you don’t find Aerion anywhere, and Daenys’ cradle is empty. The only one in the room is Daenerys—you can see the shadows of her little balled-up hands through the white curtains that surround her cradle.

She’s there unaware of your presence, and standing on neither side of any line. She, like her siblings, is oblivious to any of your doings—well, for certain the twins are just unaware of your presence whatsoever since you don’t show your face. However, that’s not what makes you take slow and careful steps towards her as if she was a great threat.

You’re reluctant because you fear looking at her and seeing your own failure at saving their grandmother. You also know that in her eyes and the eyes of her sister, she’ll see a stranger, and you’re not one really. You haven’t abandoned them completely, you love them, but they deserve the world that they’re going to live in to be corrected so they may know peace. And at least if you don’t face them you can live with the delusion that they somehow know you and that you’re never far from them. However, right now you stand with your choice to keep your veil lifted and reach the cradle despite your insecurities.

As your shadow casts on the curtains, Daenerys doesn’t pay it any mind. She keeps moving her legs and her arms, but you begin to breathe heavily and grab the edge of the curtain, but hesitate in pulling it back. You just stand there heaving with great effort and trying to muster a smile or at least a softened look. There’s even a second in time where you almost turn around and run to your quarters, but you tell yourself that this is your babe and you need to at least see her and let her see you at least once.

Thus you roll your shoulders back and blink repeatedly before you put on a faint softened look and then pull the curtain back. The moment you do Daenerys’ grey eyes find you immediately and her fiddling arms and legs come to a stop as her eyes take in the sight of you, a stranger? An estranged mother? Or that whom she cherishes the most?

You don’t know what thoughts run behind her pretty little eyes. She simply looks at you and you see the answer to your question there in her eyes because it’s eyes you have gotten lost in hundreds of times before.

As Daenerys holds your gaze and you look back at her you know that she is Cregan’s own daughter. She carries the same storm in her eyes that Cregan does, and she also seems to sport the same butt chin he does. There’s no mistaking it, even if she's still young and growing.

And the truth is seeing at least some glimpse of him in your daughter is a relief. You actually muster a genuine smile

Albeit Daenerys doesn’t share your relief nor your joy. She doesn’t know you, your eyes are the eyes of a stranger so she begins to cry and that gets rid of the bit of bliss that had broken through the storm that are your current feelings.

“No, no.” You shake your head and your face twists with utter confusion as if you hadn’t taken care of Aerion before. “Daenerys,” you whisper slightly sharply and look around for help, but neither her wet nurse nor her caretaker is in the room. You’re alone with her and she doesn’t stop crying, she only grows louder as she’s more distraught by your presence.

“Please,” you plead and clutch onto your chest as echoes of your brother's cries from when your mother was killed play in your mind; tormenting you and pushing you toward panic.

“Daenerys,” you plead and look around again. When you don’t find anyone you reach down and pick her up from her cradle in an attempt to silence her cries. However, she cries louder, so tears of your own form in your eyes and fall at the same time hers roll down her cheeks.

Her sharp cries push you closer toward panicking and completely breaking down, and you know you don’t want to do that in front of your daughter, no matter how young she is, so you press her against your chest and rock her like you would Aerion when he was as young as her.

At first, it takes her a minute to calm down, but your attempts at shushing her end up working as she recognizes your scent and your warmth that she had been familiar with because of all those months you carried her in your belly.

“That’s right,” you whisper against the crown of her head and sniffle as her own weight and her warmth end up being this unique comfort you can only find in holding your children.

You remember how much you miss being close to your children, and how deeply and truly love them.

You think about the mother you’ve been and the mother you want to be, and you can’t help but slide down and sit on your bottom as a stream of tears roll down the curve of your cheeks.

It’s truly such a chaotic moment, but you don’t run away from it. You keep your babe close to your chest and bask in her presence until your tears stop coming, your breaths draw in and out in sync, and she’s in deep sleep. After that, and after Daenys and Aerion are returned you put Daenerys down in her cradle and walk around with the intention of grabbing Daenys, alas, the doors open and Vanessa walks in with a serious look on her face that chases away your greeting smile.

“The King requests your presence in his chambers,” she announces without delaying the news a second longer, causing the coldness to return to your heart, and your bliss to vanish completely.

You would ask what it is he wanted, but you know Aegon wouldn’t divulge that information so as to keep an ambiance of mystery and amusement. So you don’t waste your breath. You simply walk over to your son playing with his toys and stroke his cheek. You then walk to Daenys and steal a lingering glance at her father's blue eyes before you grab her fisted hand and press a gentle kiss on her knuckles before you leave the room that you struggled to walk into and drag your feet toward Aegon’s chambers.

Once you stand outside his door you rap your knuckles on the wooden surface of the door, and you’re welcomed inside without a minute to waste. Right away you’re greeted with the sight of Aegon being helped out of his chair and him seeming to take wobbly steps.

“Husband,” you greet stiffly, making his eyes drift over to you coming to a stop a few feet away.

“Oh, wife! You made it. Here I thought you would get lost,” he teases with the corner of his lips twitching to a teasing smile.

“You summoned me so I came.” You say and don’t try to entertain him. Not even if there's an audience with Maester Orwyle and one other maester. “So what is it that you need? I’m surprised you asked for me.”

Aegon scoffs. “Can’t I see my wife? You are of my own choosing, so I will admit I am more eager to see you than I was to see my sister.”

Your frown deepens and you dig your nails in your palm as you bite your tongue from blurting a rebuttal in Helaena’s defense.

“You should know that the Smallfolk truly want your head,” Aegon shares without shame as he looks over at his path ahead and continues to try and keep on his own two feet. “I went to set the Shepard and his followers—those few that remained, ablaze, and they demanded your head more than they cared about the people I killed.”

You scoff and your eyes flicker down whilst the corner of your lips twitch to a frown as you feel hurt by the news.

“Will you give it to them?” You ask as you let out a small breath and push away the shame that began to seep in. “Will you tell me that what I did was wrong?”

Aegon stays quiet as he struggles to turn on his twisted legs, but once he’s facing his chair again he gives you a sincere response. “No, because it wasn’t. I would have done the same thing. The act itself was just…unlike you.”

You roll your eyes and make your way to the cushioned bench at the end of his bed to sit down and then retort. “Unlike me?” You huff. “It seems, husband that you don’t know me at all because I would do it, and I would do it again.”

The maester glances over at you with concern, but you ignore him and lay on your side with your arm propped and your eyes carefully following Aegon’s every move.

“Then I meant that the act itself just…seemed to be something Aemond would have done,” he interjects, making you drop your gaze and swallow thickly.

“Yes…well…he was right to do it. Some of it anyway. He was just fighting a war…for you.”

Aegon scoffs and sits down. He then lets out a deep breath and waves away the maesters that kept you company. “Leave us,” he commands.

The maesters hesitate to leave him alone in his chambers with you, but Aegon presses his demand.

“I shouldn’t repeat myself.”

This time the maesters file out, leaving you and Aegon alone in an awkward silence he fills. “Was my brother truly fighting the war for me? Or was it for his own ambition?”

You glance at the sapphire ring around your finger. “Does it matter now that he’s dead,” you avoid answering his question and keep your eyes on your ring that reminds you of Aemond to avoid looking at Aegon.

“I suppose it doesn’t,” he says with a sigh before you hear the wheels on his chair roll toward you, but stop at a distance. “Do you…Miss him?” His question catches you by surprise, but it’s not one you ignore.

“He was stupid in his final moments,” you mutter and with your other hand graze your finger over the sapphire. “He would still be alive if he had heeded my warning, but alas, he didn’t, and now…” you trail off in a whisper and slowly lift your gaze, catching Aegon pushing his wheels forward so he can move toward you before he pushes himself off his seat and sits beside you on the bench.

“Both of your brothers were stupid,” you don’t shy away from saying. “They would still be alive if they had played smarter and not given into their own ego, but it seems you outlived them.”

“Should I be offended?” He quips lightheartedly, and you flash the ghost of a smile.

“Prideful perhaps?” You retort and meet his gaze. “You were smart.”

Aegon raises his eyebrow in surprise but doesn’t add anything. He leaves your comment alone mostly because he thinks you’ll take it back if he does respond. Thus instead, he drifts his gaze away and lingers in the silence that was quick to grow and tense up. After a while, he parts his lips and mutters.

“How have you gotten over my brother's death?”

Whether it’s genuine interest to deal with his own grief or just curiosity, you don’t know, you just blink in surprise and when you steal a glance at Aegon, you catch the flicker of his sorrowful gaze.

“Who says I got over it?” You quip and look back at your sapphire ring. “I just know that if I sit and give into my grief, I won’t get back up. After losing so many people. People…I truly and deeply loved and cherished, I learned to navigate my emotions. Turning grief to do better. And then turning grief into anger. That’s how I manage it without letting it drown me. I get angry.”

Aegon nods faintly and you dig your nails in the cushion your palm is pressed against.

“Is that why…you sacrificed who you used to be? Is that why you’re now the person you shamed me for being? A monster?”

Your breath catches in your throat and your entire body freezes as his words register in your head and echo, hitting you like cold water every single time you hear it.

Did he really just insinuate that you’re alike? Him and you? Him, the man who killed your mother? Him, who…hurt all those innocent girls? Him?

You grow disgusted and furious all at the same, but before you can think of something to counter with, Aegon’s head falls on your lap and his hand wraps around your knee.

“It makes me glad that we now have something in common. It’s a comforting fact.”

You scrunch your nose and curl your lip in disgust, but don’t shove him off, or tell him off. You grow stiff and stay that way as he keeps his head on your lap.

A tear formed by disbelief and utter shock rolls down your cheeks, but you keep still as he closes his eyes and fails to see the anger that clenches your jaw and narrows your gaze with a new burning anger as he dares to relate you to him.

How dare he?

Why would he think you and him are the same kind of monster?

You’re not the same kind of monster. You…You are everything you didn't want to be, but you are not the same.

No.

No.

More thick tears trail down the curve of your cheeks as your rage only burns hotter, but in between your horror and anger, you raise your hand and let the tip of your fingers kiss the side of his scarred face.

Aegon is startled by your touch. He snaps his eyes open, but he doesn’t comment on the sudden touch. He welcomes the touch thinking it’s a form of comfort after finding something in common, but that’s far from the truth.

He doesn’t know that though, just like he doesn’t know you.

——

*SOMETIME LATER*

“The Dowager Queen has requested an audience with you at the gardens,” your lady-in-waiting shares, making this what?

Well, you’ve lost count of how many times Alicent has asked to speak with you. And the good thing about being Queen is that you don’t have to suffer through a load of apologies, pitiful looks, and an attempt at reconciliation. You can ignore her and no one can do anything about it.

“Tell her the same as yesterday and the day before that,” you tell your lady-in-waiting over your shoulder. “Thank you.”

You turn away and return your eyes to Astraea in the distance happily flying over the cold waters of the sea. “She’s flying a lot stronger, don’t you think?” You ask Vanessa as she tries to fix your hair against the icy winter breeze that rushes through the balcony.

“It seems so. Her wounds must not hurt as much,” she mentions, making the corner of your lips twitch to a smile.

No matter what is transcending or what plagues you, you can always count on Astraea to bring a smile to your face. At least for a little while anyway.

A knock proceeds to rap on your door and your smile completely falls from your face.

“Come,” you welcome the visitor and hope—no, pray it’s not Aegon.

Luckily, when the door opens and you turn around you don’t see the broken man. You just see Lord Larys.

“Your Grace,” he greets with a bow.

Vanessa lets your hair go and steps away, letting you walk inside your chambers and point to the couches by the fireplace. “My Lord, welcome. Tea? Wine?”

The man shakes his head. “No, thank you. I just came for a quick visit.” He pauses and looks at the doors over his shoulder to make sure they’re closed. He then examines your quarters making sure that no one besides Vanessa and you are inside.

“What is it?” You probe as he piques your curiosity.

Lord Larys lets out a deep breath and then finally faces you to share what brought him to your chambers. “It’s Lord Borros, he is going to leave with his men and the men of Duskendale, Stokeworth, Hayford, and Rosby to face the Rivermen.”

They’ve been getting closer and closer by the day. Just yesterday they were a seven-day ride from Kings Landing. You were beginning to think that Lord Borros wouldn’t have the balls to go face them considering most of his strength is made up of men from houses who were forced to give their loyalty toward the king and then were made to pay a ransom and give the crown a hostage. And that doesn’t really aspire blind loyalty, but alas, Lord Borros is as dumb as he looks.

“Finally,” you scoff and flash lord Larys a smile before you stride to the small table and pour yourself some wine. “I thought he would never leave. Hm.” You chuckle and turn to face your visitor. “I assume you remember your part that follows?” You ask as you lift your brow and look at him over the rim of your cup.

Lord Larys offers you a nod before parting his lips to respond. “I remember. Which is why I came to deliver you the news as quickly as I could.”

You hum and grab the poison flask from your pocket so as to keep it with you at all times so you don’t lose it, or risk having it found by the many servants that come into your quarters throughout the day. You then take a drink from your wine before you approach him and press the flask on his palm.

“I’m trusting you, Lord Strong,” you interject as you wrap your hand around his to keep him close. “If you betray me…well…I don’t need to remind you what will happen do I?” You probe with your lips slowly pulling to a smirk as you look at him with a threatening glare rather than with a questioning look, making him gulp before he nods stiffly.

“I will do it. Starting today.”

You slip your hand off his and step back to take another big drink of your wine before you push it toward him. “To the King,” you mock before you give him your back and walk back toward the balcony, knowing he doesn’t need to be told to leave.

“At last the war is coming to an end,” you tell Vanessa once you return to the balcony and find Astraea still flying over the waters. “I never thought I’d work with Lord Larys though. As tactical as I admit he is.”

Vanessa’s footsteps echo against the floor as she makes herself to your side rather than continuing to fix your hair. “Shouldn’t you perhaps wait until Lord Stark is closer to the city to continue with the rest of your plan?” She asks.

You finish the rest of your wine and drift your gaze to the corner of your eyes to retort. “No. If I wait that could potentially spoil all of it. I have to act now. We…can reunite when he arrives in the city.”

Vanessa hums in comprehension and you sigh and look back at Astraea, letting a wicked smile come play on your lips as you think about your plan finally coming to motion. At long last.

Of course, you do have to wait for the poison to do its job since it is slow-acting, but oh, you take joy in watching Aegon slowly succumb to Alys’ concoction. First, he starts to wear out more than usual, his appetite is smaller, his legs stop working, and he has fever dreams that freak him out.

Slowly he starts to unravel and you feel proud with every symptom and every passing day. Finally, the melancholy and agony that painted your face vanishes and in its place, a sinister joy takes place and returns a rather ethereal glow to your face.

Yet nothing compares to the day. The moment when you can finally come out of the shadows and act out the plan in all its glory.

It brings a pep to your stride and a bright twinkle in your eyes that makes you look more terrifying and intimidating than anything else.

“Your Grace,” you recognize your grandfather blurt as he barges into your quarters. “It’s happening.”

You turn around and flash him a faint playful smirk before you probe seriously. “The kids and Baela?”

“Men are on their way toward them now. You best hurry before Ser Alfred reaches Aegon’s chambers and finds it empty.” He suggests something that hasn't slipped from your mind. After all, you went to sleep, woke up, and ate breakfast, lunch, and dinner, thinking about the plan to kill Aegon. Nothing and you mean nothing will slip past you.

“I’m already on my way,” you say jokingly as you break into a cocky stride and leave your chambers with Ser Cane, and the men Lord Larys appointed to help you; Ser Perkin the Flea and knights he trusted. After all, you had already assumed that Aegon would back down in his promise and send men after your brother Aegon. You assumed he wouldn’t be able to handle that he’s still alive, or the threat of the Rivermen, the Vale, and the North all not backing down and drawing closer with every passing day. Especially after Lord Borros was betrayed by the men of the Crownsland, and lost his battle. Just as you predicted he would.

Perhaps Aegon should have taken the time to truly get to know you. You would have ended up dead if he did try, but that’s the only way you could be stopped. Now you will bring an end to his tyranny. Now you are death.

Can Ser Alfred Broome see that as you slowly turn the corner and bring him to a stop on top of the drawbridge that leads to Maegor’s holdfast where your brother was kept.

“Ser,” you greet in a honey-laced voice and a sweet smile to accompany your greeting.

“Your Grace,” he throws out his greeting and bows his head without any care. “If you’ll excuse me I have duties to do for the King.”

You hum in comprehension and step to the side, causing Ser Cane to do the same so Ser Alfred can pass by.

However, as the heel of his boots starts to tap against the wooden bridge, Ser Perkin and three of his men come out of the shadows to block his path.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Ser Alfred demands to know. “Move in the name of your king!” He exclaims and then turns to face you and have you move them, but when he turns three more men walk out from the corridor he just came from and block that path too.

“What—”

He cuts himself off whilst his breath catches as you strut forward to be in front of him and he catches the gleam of your silver chest plate shaped in the form of bones hiding behind your cloak.

“Long. Live. The. King,” you roll out of your tongue before you grab his shoulder and then slap your other hand on his chest.

Ser Perkin and his men stomp their feet on the ground and chant the same thing. “Long live the king.”

The realization that Ser Alfred is facing death hits him, but before he can utter another word, or even figure out what to do next, you shove him off the drawbridge.

You then step toward the edge of the bridge, and your piercing and threatening glare is the last thing he sees as you watch him fall to his death on the iron spikes below.

“Very well then,” you huff and pull off your cloak to let your armor and intentions shine. “Onto the next.”

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A/N- Be prepared!

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[slnttyspydr]

I can't believe this needs to be said but...

Can we stop attacking Stolas for how he handled himself? He loves Octavia, and he loves Blitzo̶. They're the ones he loves the most.

Yes, he was on antidepressants to deal with the abuse from Stella. She openly stated how much she hated being married to him and treated him like crap. She even plotted his murder AT THE DINNER TABLE.

Yes, during Mastermind he chose to save Blitzo̶. Even given everything that happened between them, Stolas still has strong feelings for the imp. He chose Blitzo̶ for more than one reason. When Stolas slept with him the first time, he genuinely felt wanted and that he could love him, something he never felt from his own wife.

Yes, he stayed with Stella for Octavia. He genuinely loved her as a father but sometimes parents fuck up. It's life! She's also a teenager, and while she is justified, she can misunderstand the situation just like anyone else. Stolas even tried calling her for a month after he snapped out of his self-pity party.

Stolas' actions may not be what everyone wants, but one thing no one has even stated is...depression hits everyone differently. He just shuts down when he feels all is lost. Stolas is quick to make certain decisions because of anxiety, too. Why else would he give up everything without taking the time to think about it?

He didn't consciously make the decision to abandon his child, but one of his two greatest loves was in danger and he was saving him whether or not it cost his life.

Octavia was never in danger except for her gaslighting mother and uncle, which have basically had a whole month to poison her opinion of her father. And yet, she still tried to bring Stolas his happy pills.

Please just remember: these fictional characters from Hell are very human. Ironically, they may be more human than some actual humans.

That being said...I've watched the episode multiple times already.

[autistic-ben-tennyson]

I have a lot of things to say about this character. I used to identify with her a bit but I no longer do and a lot of the writing in her “arc” has aged poorly. The narrative wants to portray her as just someone who longs to be understood. What we got though is a character who never grows and remains selfish and inconsiderate. I respect and understand that she’s important to a lot of people who are queer and neurodivergent as I am too but I don’t think she’s as good as her stans say.

I’m going to contrast her with two protagonists I am fond of. The character I named my blog after, Ben Tennyson, and Akko from Little Witch Academia which I just finished watching. I actually compared the former to Luz in a more positive post back when I liked her but I think a more critical comparison is needed now. Some have said it but TOH is just an isekai anime for queer people. Any development Luz may have had regarding being less impulsive and selfish got dropped in favor of her just wanting to be understood. She gets everything she wants, to be the hero, to date the rich popular girl, and never be criticized or challenged by anyone.

If Lumity was a cishet ship, it would get a lot more flack from people. Amity herself is woobified by her fans when she was often nasty to Luz or Willow for no reason and didn’t do much to redeem herself for the latter. Luz chose to keep lying to Amity and kept secrets even after she promised to do better. Despite suffering from bad writing in UA, Ben/Julie was still better than this. Julie actually held Ben accountable when he lied or screwed up and she never bullied him, Gwen or Kevin. Ben does try, even if he’s not very good at it to be a better boyfriend and spend more time with Julie as seen in “Revenge of The Swarm” after promising he’d do better.

Some other things that make Ben better than Luz is that his hero fantasy is actually deconstructed. He learns he can’t mess around and do what ever he wants. While he jokes around and acts like a brat, he admits it’s because he’s scared because of the stakes that come if he fails in the episode “The Forge of Creation”. This is not to say Ben 10 is great as it does slip into isekai territory as well with that disgusting harem episode in OV, but it does a little better. He’s also actually bullied as shown in the OS and AF which makes him a bit more sympathetic whereas fanon is used to make Luz more likable than what just the show itself tells.

Regarding Akko, she’s similar to Luz in that she’s impulsive, selfish, rude and wants to be a witch to live out some fantasy. The difference is that Akko learns to be more responsible, that not everything is about her and that she can’t just get whatever she wants. While patience is still something she struggles with by the end of the series, she still grows and becomes a better person. Whereas Luz was willing to abandon everyone while wallowing in self pity, Akko ran away for a few hours after learning that Chariot, her mentor, idol and friend was the reason she was struggling but a quick talk with Diana brought her back. The thing is that a character who���s not a noble saint but still very sympathetic can work such as Shinji Ikari but not if they’re framed as heroic like Luz. That’s why a lot of the show’s writing has not aged well.

To recap, this isn’t to bash people who do identify with Luz and like her. I used to as well, but she’s got some flaws that are often brushed away and the narrative seemed like it wanted to have its cake and eat it too. Wanted to challenge traditional fantasy tropes while ultimately turning into a chosen one wish fulfillment for Luz. TOH was praised for its representation as well as by people who view it as the anti SU but its not the greatest show ever and there are some troubling implications.

[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.