#what a lovely way to teach children about grief

[blackpearlblast]

[ID: drawings of a golem animated by a palestinian flag painted on its forehead. it is seen: holding out its arms protectively in front of a crowd of children, the children also hold each other supportively; catching an air strike missile from the air and throwing it away or crushing it in its fist; turning its back so that a child can warm her hands by the earth oven built into its back, food in a pot is cooking on the fire and a boy holds a cup of steaming tea to his face and enjoys the aroma; clearing away rubble so a man can help up his wife who was buried underneath, she is clutching a baby to her chest; stooping down to look at a kitten a young boy is holding up to show it; and dissolving small flakes of clay from its finger into a glass of water, purifying it. end ID]

@fairuzfan asked people to create and share art for the strike. i wrote an artist statement and then set about trying to draw what i envisioned. artist statement below.

This golem is a protector that I wish I could gift to the children and adults in Gaza. The flag on its forehead is to show that love for the Palestinian people is an animating force for people fighting for a free Palestine all over the world, especially for those in Palestine who are trying to free themselves and their people. Love is the motivation for the call for a free Palestine, not hatred like people try to claim. It is very strong and fast and can catch air strikes out of midair and crush them to dust or throw them back in the direction they came from. It can lift all the rubble of a collapsed building very quickly so nobody can get trapped underneath. It has an earth oven in its back with an ever-burning flame that people can use to warm themselves and cook food and heat water to use to bathe themselves or make tea. Pieces of its clay can be crumbled up and mixed into water to make even the most brackish and unclean water pure and safe to drink.

The golem is always a bit of a tragic figure so I don't imagine it staying around forever once Palestine is free and it is no longer needed. I think it would use its great strength to help rebuild the destroyed houses, churches, schools, universities, hospitals, and mosques and then dive into the Jordan river and dissolve. It would clean the river of all pollution and make the water splash up over all the newly replanted fruit trees, causing them to grow big and strong. Its love for Palestine and its people can be tasted in the fruit they grow for generations.

I choose a specifically Jewish icon of protection because of how it feels to witness such horrors done in the supposed name of Judaism and the Jewish people. For many anti-zionist Jews, we feel like we are acting directly within the teachings of our stories and communities by opposing this genocide. It is difficult to understand how the very people and institutions who taught us these values now fight against them so fiercely. While obviously I would still oppose Israel were I not Jewish, the way I oppose Israel is directly informed by my Jewishness. I hope that someday, somehow, Judaism can bring as much joy and support to the Palestinian people as it has brought grief and destruction. That Jewish symbols used in the name of love and justice will bear more significance than the ones used in shows of hatred. Knowing the depth of the harm caused, I do not know if this is possible. But this artwork and everything I have dedicated myself to these past few months and continue to dedicate myself to in the future is born from this hope. I love you. Thank you for being on this planet with me. From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free! And it will be beautiful.

[cross-d-a]

Jod Na Nawood’s backstory is FASCINATING!! And makes SO much sense!!! Order 66 fucked up SO much in the galaxy, it’s so interesting (and tragic) to see what it’s done to the force sensitive children who were unable to be taken into the Temple. It truly supports how GOOD the Jedi Order is. How good the JEDI are. I can’t even fully comprehend everything the galaxy lost and suffered without them. And- Jod’s master. She didn’t have to take him in. He knew that. He knows she was desperate. But she took him in anyway and taught him what she could. We only get a very tiny glimpse of that backstory but it’s utterly gut-wrenching.

Imagine the survivor of a genocide. A Jedi on the run, desperate and hungry and grieving, running into a little kid just as lost as her and seeing that LIFE in him. Feeling the FORCE in him. What would that have done to her after feeling everyone she knew and loved ripped away from her. But here is this kid and he needs help and maybe she does, too. Maybe they can help each other. And so she folds him under her wing just as any Jedi would have done. She teaches him the ways of her people, knowing that their way of life lives on in her and that she is passing it on to a new generation. And that probably hurt. It probably hurt SO much. Because she can’t give him what she could have if the Order was still alive. And he’ll never understand what it means to be part of something so beautiful and long-lasting. But she does what she can, and they maybe never would have met if Order 66 didn’t happen. And it’s an awful thought, the worst kind of thought, but she can’t help but be relieved they found each other. Because she loves this lost little kid and maybe they’re broken together, but they’re more whole together, too. And maybe without Jod she could have run and hid forever. Maybe she couldn’t have, plenty Jedi were caught and murdered. But she knew the risk and she took it- and the way Jod talks about it (“they made me watch”) makes me think that he feels he’s responsible for her getting caught. And it makes me wonder how she felt when she was caught. Knowing she was one of the last of her kind, and that this kid was going to be alone again. Orphaned in a completely new, terrible way.

And I wonder, too, if looking after the kids reminded Jod of his old Jedi Master. And maybe he thought “I can’t get attached because then they’ll catch me too and I’ll die just like her.” And you know what, Jod? It did happen that way. You got caught because of those kids. But only because you forgot what it means to be a Jedi, which is to say that after your Master died you tore out that softness within you. Abandoned love for fear. Exchanged generosity for greed. And it’s true grief and trauma changes people. That a little kid alone in the galaxy does what they can to survive. But Jod isn’t a little kid anymore and it doesn’t excuse the choices you make. It’s a wretched world, one without a Jedi, and Jod suffered all the more for it.

And I wonder, too, what Jod thought when Wim paused in the elevator. When that little kid called out to him, despite everything Jod had done to him. Did Jod look at Wim and think: “Yeah, that’s what a Jedi would be” and then hate himself all the more for it? Well, who can tell. Jod is a fascinating character and I’m excited to see where the show next takes us.

[777heavengirl]

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poa!remus lupin x healer!reader one-shot ! warnings: angst ? mentions of war and death, eventual fluff word count: 4,014 masterlist

Remus Lupin was a handsome man. You had always known this, ever since fifth year when you got paired up with him in potions. It became your new favorite subject. He was not only gorgeous but bright and sharp as a whip. You could hear his sarcastic and witty comments from under his breath often, and the giggles that bubbled out of you were hard to contain. You had considered yourself decent friends, sharing more than one class with him and opting often to work together throughout your time at Hogwarts. He was even the reason you were a part of the order of the phoenix as the war broke out. 

It was a dark time, the insecurity and the panic. The sheer paranoia that draped over everyone like a coat made of lead. You lost contact as the war ended. His best friends were dead, or traitors. His family was dead and as far as you knew he retreated until the only mention of him was the pictures on your walls. You hadn’t laid eyes on the man for twelve years. 

But Remus Lupin was still a handsome man. Older barely, tired definitely. As Dumbledore introduced him as the new defense against the dark arts professor you couldn’t help but gawk. His shy smile was the same, a small curl of his lip as he looked sheepishly at the crowd of children. His light brown hair was longer than the last time you had seen him. He shaved it the year Harry was born, you always thought he looked quite good with the buzz. Matter of fact he had asked you to shave it for him. You’d never forget the trust he had in you at that moment, nor the feel of his head, his face in your hands. 

You had started your post as a secondary healer at Hogwarts around the same time Harry Potter turned 11. Albus insisted Madame Pomfrey needed the help, and as a trusted witch and now experienced and skilled healer after many years at St Mungo’s, you were the one for the job. After much bonding with the Potter boy, as he had the terrible habit of always needing medical care along with his friends you started to tell him, stories of his mother, of his father, and your time together at school. You suspected Albus Dumbledore was playing a game of chess. Remus’s appearance was no different. Maybe he was trying to introduce the boy to his parent’s old friends. Show him the love and care his parents had fostered with others. The way James and Lily cared for their friends like family, until their last seconds.

Lily Evans had been, until the day of her death, one of your closest friends. The two of you were basically inseparable, she always said muggle-borns needed to stick together. This closeness is what made your friendship with Remus so easy. It was like two overlapping circles of friends perfectly lining up, creating one. This also made it easy to fall in love with him. Lily always encouraged it, you could still hear the smile on her face as she spoke warmly about the man, how perfect he was for you.

Lily loved Remus. You suspected this was also the reason for his absence. Everyone deals with grief differently.

Or maybe he just really had no care for you after all?

You shook the thought away as you did your nightly duties. It was nearing the end of the first week of classes and you hadn’t dared talk to Remus. You were trying to come to terms with the undeniable fact that maybe it was best that you didn’t reconnect. He could teach from his classroom on his side of the castle and you could heal children from yours. Not in a bad way, but maybe in the way two people avoid each other because of too much shared pain. Because maybe looking at each other meant acknowledging how alone you were. It’s not like he had even looked at you either. You wondered if he thought of you. 

You thought of Lily as you cleaned. She’d huff at you if she heard your thoughts. 

“Ah yes Ms Y/L/N,” Dumbledore walked in, Remus in tow. The soft brown, wool sweater he wore made your heart clench. He looked like he always did, he looked like the Remus you grew up with. Not the stuffier professor robes you had seen him wearing around. “I do believe you are familiar with Professor Lupin’s-”

”predicament” Remus muttered but in the silence of the night it was clear as day. 

”ah yes, ever so verbose, the professor, but you are aware yes?” 

Of course, you knew, you had helped him post-full moon before while you were training to be a healer. While the war felt like it would blow down your doors at any minute. you simply nodded. You resumed your task of folding the sheets, opting to do it with your hands.

You were afraid to look at him, but you knew what Dumbledore would ask.

”I trust you can make sure he’s in good shape each month then?”

You smiled softly at the headmaster, “of course sir, i’ll tend to him when needed” Dumbledore smiled and nodded as he turned, patting Remus’s shoulder as he passed and disappeared into the castle's darkness.

You could feel Remus tense up as you were left alone, you felt suffocated even in the expansiveness of the hospital wing. 

“I have all the moon dates in my calendar professor,” the words felt foreign coming from your mouth but you couldn’t bring yourself to say his name. “so please don’t hesitate to tell me what arrangement you’d prefer I can go up to your room the morning after or if you feel like coming down as well”

Remus shifted on his feet as you spoke. He stared hard at the windows but he suspected you were also avoiding his gaze. 

“I think I can make it up here, don’t worry I’ll probably be okay,” You hummed, shooting him a tightlipped smile as he bowed his head and left. Your eyes never met. 

Remus felt like he might suffocate at any moment. His skin felt hot under his collar and he couldn’t remember if he had looked at you at all. He tried to picture your face. Had it aged at all? Had you changed? He could only think back to when you buzzed his head thirteen years ago. Your wide smile as the two of you laughed at his falling locks. It had been cathartic at the time, and he could still feel the ghost of your fingers over his face, over his head.

It was a fleeting thought, a flash of a life he had forgotten he had lived. Twelve years is an awfully long time, to not see someone.

He wondered how you had dealt with all of it. With the losses, with the absence of everyone you loved. He could feel regret worm its way into his heart. He had left you alone. You were each other's remaining friends. There was no longer anyone else, Lily and James, Marlene, and Dorcas were all dead. He presumed Mary was dead as well. Frank and Alice weren’t there anymore, not mentally.

He knew you took care of them. At St Mungo’s. He caught a glimpse of you once as you came into their room. Remus had just gone to visit, talk to them, and bring them flowers. Even if they didn’t seem to recognize him, Alice was entranced by the Lillies he brought. He felt content enough about it as he walked away, but then you walked into the room after. He knew you hadn't seen him, but he peeked in to observe you. With your nice smile and your caring gaze, you checked up on them, made sure they had been fed, ran through a small (although futile) therapeutic exercise with them, and put on a charm so the flowers wouldn’t wilt, so they make you happy for a long time Alice. Remus hated the pang of pain in his heart. He always knew you would become a good healer. He didn’t want to disrupt your life. You seemed well-adjusted. Or at least he hoped you were, but that was just the outside, and the outside doesn’t always reflect the inside.

Remus knew this especially well.  

-

This arrangement between you was barely touched on. Remus had come in only once in the two months that had passed for a small scrape on his neck. It made your fingers itch in anticipation. It was like you needed to feel needed. You knew he wasn't having the best time. He looked pale and ill and you fought the urge to drop something off at his door. 

"Severus I need to know if you're giving him Wolfsbane" You disliked dealing with Severus Snape. You didn't trust him. Not since the incident with Lily in fifth year. And rightfully so. Regardless of the headmaster's unwavering faith in him, you were convinced he was going to screw with Remus and his job. Whether payback for things in the past or simple jealousy. 

"I don't see how that's any of your business," He sneered at you as he turned away, walking down the dark empty halls of the dungeon's hallways. 

"I'm his nurse-"

"He won't even let you treat him, and if you knew what was good for you," he crossed his arms. You felt as useless as when he and Lily had started arguing in fourth year. "You'd forget about him, its pathetic-" 

You knew it was pointless to speak to the man. You often pondered if he saw glimpses of Lily in you just as you saw them in him.

You huffed as the two of you walked your separate ways. You felt sixteen again. Mindlessly, you walked to the defense against the dark arts tower. It wasn't a section of the castle you found yourself in often or at all anymore, your days as a student had long passed. You focused on the stone stairs. You felt like your hands were clammy and freezing at the same time. You didn't know if you were overstepping a boundary. 

Classes had finished for the day, the kids ran around the castle, some greeting you some not. You didn't mind. You knocked softly at his office door with your knuckles. You suddenly felt insecure about your red robes and white apron, it was nearly identical to Poppy Pomfrey's. She said something about yours having a younger silhouette. Whatever the hell that meant. 

"Come in," Remus's voice called out through the door. You turned the door knob hesitantly. You couldn't help but stare at the artifacts and books thrown and placed about. "Ah, welcome"

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," you still didn't dare say his name, it was stuck in your throat like a bubble of water and air that forms when you drink too fast. You felt like you might choke. "I just needed to know if you were taking a certain potion-"

Remus nodded, an understanding smile playing on his lips. 

"I am,"

"Okay good," you trailed off as you finally looked at him straight on. His hands had stopped their task, ink-dipped feather placed back on his desk as he also stared at you. You fiddled with your fingers behind your back. "I'm sorry, Severus wouldn't answer my question and I needed to know so as to not give you anything that might react poorly-"

"It's alright," Remus bit his lip slightly, you could tell he was bouncing his leg from under his desk.

"I'll take my leave then" you turned away from him. 

"Y/N" you stopped at the door, the cold metal handle cooling your hand. "D'you want some tea?"

You couldn't say no. Not to him. So you turned back and nodded. 

Remus smiled softly, seemingly relieved. 

-

Your tea time with Remus had been filled with content silence. Neither of you felt the urge to speak, it was a comfortable stillness as you sat side by side looking out his window. You didn't feel the need to express anything or address the twelve years that you were absent from each other's lives.

This felt enough for now. 

As the sun set you left, with a thank you and a small smile. He mirrored it. You felt like a bit of weight had been lifted and you spent the rest of the night with a small smile on your face. 

The next few weeks went along about the same, healer duties with the bonus of Remus passing by the hospital wing later on and having tea silently or you seeking him out in his office. You were afraid to talk, like you'd ruin it if you did. You felt as if your desperation to erase the last twelve years of silence and solitude might consume you.

But the full moon came around again and you desperately hoped Remus would come in the morning. For you to fuss over him, to make sure he was properly fed, to give him whatever sweets he wanted. You wanted to kiss the scars on his face as you once did, to run your fingers through his hair as you reassured him that it was over, that he was okay. Even if he kept his consciousness thanks to the potion, transformations were rough on him. You hadn't been able to even close your eyes.

You heard a knock on your door. You briefly glanced at the clock on your desk, 5:30 AM. Remus was out of it. And probably outside your door. You scrambled from your bed, closing the distance between you and the door, and cracked it open. Sure enough, the brown-haired man stood there, with his greenish-pale face and clammy skin.

"I'm sorry-"

"Remus please-" You dragged him inside, quickly directing him towards your bed. You made sure he laid down while you assessed him for any accidental injuries. As you got to work Remus watched you, the way you muttered to yourself as you read the labels to potions and serums to try and help him. Your dark blue silk gown flowed down your body, reaching right over your knee. It reminded him of a river at night. The lighter blue robe loosely tied around you pooled around ur feet as u crouched next to your medicine box. 

“Here drink this, it should make you feel better,” you say next to him, one leg tucked under your thigh, the other hanging from the side of the bed. You brought the small vial up to his lips, one hand under his head to try to bring him up. The green liquid tasted slightly bitter but he drank the whole vial without reproach. 

Remus sighed as he felt his body warm. You got up again, opening and closing cabinets, muttering to yourself again. You found a chocolate bar and a cloth with a sigh and walked briskly back to his side. Remus felt sadness bubble up from deep within. He thought of you all alone for so many years, he watched your face as you dabbed a warm damp cloth around his face. He hadn’t noticed before, how you didn’t look all that older. Tired, yes, beautiful, always. Last time he had seen you, the two of you were freshly 21 and you felt like you would eat the world raw. Now you were 33. Most people your age haven’t seen half of what you had. You had a frown on your face, and your eyes reflected a deep sorrow. 

You were so young. Remus thought of your time apart. He couldn't rationalize that he had lived so long without you.

You were both still so young.

”I’m sorry,” Remus couldn’t help saying it

”You don’t have to apologize for anything Rem,” your voice was barely above a whisper, you conjured some water in the glass on your bedside table. You went to help him drink from it and he grabbed it from your hand, sitting up.

“I do though,” his eyebrows stitched together in worry, he placed the cup back in its original spot. He couldn’t help but look away “I left-“

Your hands dropped onto your lap, you felt like your heart was falling out of your chest.

”You didn’t owe me anything, we just drifted-“

”Love you know that’s not true,” your head spun at the nickname, you hadn’t heard it come out of his mouth in so long. Old habits die hard. “I left you alone and we’re all the other has left.”

He shook his head and felt his eyes fill with tears. You could feel the tears start falling from yours as well.

”It’s my fault I should’ve tried harder-“ Remus laughed in indignation.

”Y/N it is not your fault,” as you tried to talk, to somehow convince him and yourself that your distance had been your doing, that you had been the one to cut him off, the one to leave, he grabbed your hand. “I was the one that stopped answering calls and the door, I moved away, I’m the one that did everything in my power to not think about what had happened and that included leaving you-"

Remus couldn't help but think the worst of himself, as he saw the tears stain your cheeks and your nose redden. You were full-on crying now, clutching his hand like he would vanish into thin air. Remus Lupin was someone who left. He knew this, he always had been, as a kid he ran from his problems. From his lycanthropy, from his mother's illness in his teenage years, from his father's sadness. He ran then, spending holidays at Hogwarts where he could pretend that the only thing that plagued him was the full moon, moving in with Sirius and Peter right after graduation. Being the first one out of the door after they had to go their separate ways for safety.

He was still a man that left. He left you as the both of you stood alone in the ruins of the family you had all built. He ran as far as he could. 

Remus Lupin was someone who left. And he feared that the look on your face now would forever make his heart bleed. Because how could he have let himself leave you?

But you didn't see that, and if you did you didn't hold it against him. Your tear-ridden eyes shone when you looked at him. He felt like he might suffocate under your gaze. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you, for all the years he didn't, for all the times he almost did. Remus Lupin wanted to kiss you more than anything else in the world. 

That could wait, he had already waited a lifetime anyway.

He pulled your arm until your body collided with his chest, heart to heart. His hand pressed your head close to him, your hands gripping his soft sweater until your knuckles turned white. He buried his face in your hair as you both cried, sobs trembling through both your chests. Your knees on the bed as your top half lay on top of him. You didn't care, the only thing you could think about was how he was here now, how he held you, and the way his hand rubbed up and down your back. 

"Please never leave Remus," the words managed to escape you between sobs, and he could hardly manage to croak out a never again.

And he never would. Remus vowed to himself, at this moment with you in his arms, he'd never let go again.

He'd never leave.

-

It had become a habit for the two of you, to seek each other's comfort. You'd wonder what it felt like to kiss him. Although you were close now, there seemed to be a line neither of you would cross. Wary of the other's reaction. You figured that maybe after so many years any romantic interest in you had dissipated. 

So the habit persisted, he'd come beaten and battered after a full moon, Severus's potion-making is quite unreliable, isn't it? You figured he did it on purpose. And you'd patch the brown-haired man, only then would he pull you into his arms. Remus was soft and pliable, the exhaustion of the transformation made him melt into your body and your bed. He more often than not dragged himself to your room, even when the full moon was far, even when he felt good. He would make his way to your room, and you'd always greet him with your arms wide open and ready to press your bodies together until you fell asleep. He'd usually be gone by morning.

It was December now,  and the cold made his joints feel brittle and ache. 

He had gone directly to your room after dinner, he couldn't help but watch you as you got ready for bed. He stripped down from his robes until he was only in a loose white tee and a pair of joggers he had permanently left in your room. The aches that resonated through him often made you forget that Remus Lupin was still a young man. You were only 33. The remainders of youth highlighted the shape of his body as he threw himself on your bed. The white tee shifted upwards with his arms revealing slivers of his torso. You couldn't help but look through your mirror as you brushed your hair. 

Your dynamic had become somewhat domestic, he'd watch you get ready and pull you into his arms to sleep together. You felt like a silly teenager, playing house. Like this was the life you were supposed to live, the soft music pouring from the record player, a soft song you heard many years ago. The type of song that makes nostalgia and melancholy settle in your heart. This was it, the life you were supposed to live was the way Remus crossed the room and pulled you by the hand. The way his arm pulled you close and you slow danced, laughing at the way you tumbled around. You deserved a soft life, one with chocolate frogs and slow rhythms. A life with laughter and joy, of feeling unjudged, of feeling safe and warm. 

A life full of love.

And as Remus spun you around and laughter poured from both your lips you couldn't help but feel your heart swell. It felt like a warm flower bloomed in your chest as you looked at his smiling face. He slowed your spinning around the room as the song came to a close but you remained in his arms, you could feel the tip of his fingers tug slightly at a lock of your hair. You couldn't help but smile up at him between giggles. 

"Can I kiss you?" his words were merely a whisper, like a ghost of desire. And you couldn't help but smile even wider, pulling his neck down to press your lips against his soft ones. He tasted of spearmint and chocolate, and you couldn't help but break into a smile, lips still pressed onto his. He leaned back, holding your face between his large hands. Laughter bubbled from his lips as he leaned in for a second kiss, head spinning, his lips soft but firm. He dragged his lips to your cheeks, pressing pecks on the apples of your cheeks, on your jaw, on your neck. Laughter bounced between the two of you.

Fifteen years of desire piled up to one kiss. 

This life was the one you deserved. 

[asklesbianonceler]

My Analysis on Count Ymir and Metyr

This is my personal analysis on the lore and plot as a whole, Carians vs other sorcerers, an Ymir character study, a Metyr study, and my take on it in regards to gender and deeper themes and motifs. (From a positive lens)

Blue is for things added later: last updated 8/20

I've made a post on sorcerers and their downfalls prior to this and it is still extremely important to look at the differences between sorcerers who go too far like Sellen, Azur, Lusat, and graven masses as a whole vs Ymir. Because Ymir is most closely related to Rennala, literally and narratively. They are both Carians and experience "corruption" via a similar outlet.

Sellen, and the others who looked into the primeval current, only craved knowledge. They were far more detached from the beauty and divinity of everything around them and aimed to know too much. Graven masses are students who go too far. Even Thopps somehow dies from studying too hard. This happens because of their own actions. We don't kill or fight them.

There's one thing that is consistent with all Carians. Their downfall is their hearts. Ranni makes this so clear with her poorly veiled attempts at avoiding attachment with our tarnished. She tells us to tell Blaidd and Iji how much she loves them. She is detached because she knows she must be but she is terrible at hiding that she still has a heart. Rennala was consumed with grief and loss after the golden order presumably caused her and Marika (Radagon) to miscarry as well as forcing the love of her life away from her. She also loses all of her children to their own ambitions (they move out and do their own thing) Regardless, she is a husk because of love. Rellana abandoned her home to chase after love which was likely unrequited and still she forged swords of matrimony that she wields alone until her death, ever loyal to protecting the man she fell for. Rennala understood Relanna was chasing what her heart desired and sanctioned it. This is just a known fact about Carians. They get it. Their downfall is not knowledge but succumbing to love.

We know that prior to his involvement with finger sorceries Ymir was far more of a romantic than other sorcerers. Beloved Stardust's description is from a recitation he gave as a teacher to the Carians and it states that "One need only envision the romance of the stars above with adoration for stardust in one's heart to become a greater sorcerer. Do so, and you will know love."

He tells us it's only natural to want power and the truth but to no extent is this like Sellen's quest. He is not asking us to enable him like she is. Yes, he moved on from his studying of the moon, but it was not the same way she did. She wants to unravel it all and lay it bare, pick it apart. She is also driven to understand the elden ring which is very golden order centric. (want to be clear. I love Sellen)

She wants to dissect the life in the stars. Ymir wants to appreciate it's beauty. It is a clear clinical vs whimsical, both to negative extent. Sellian vs Carian.

We have no way of knowing his history in the lands between. He looks extremely similar to the figure on the Carian inverted statue and also has ties to Miriam, but that's all we can know for a fact. We also know for a fact that there are fingercreepers in both the gardens of Caria Manor and the flipped elevator of the Carian Study Hall.

I saw someone suggest recently that these were here as original assassins of the greater will to thwart Ranni back when the Greater Will still spoke to Metyr. I do like this. I believe the fingers were there for a very long time trying to accomplish something. Further I would suggest this is where Ymir first began to question them as he was no doubt in at least one of these Carian locations pre move to the Lands of Shadow.

We also don't know his early history in the lands of shadow aside from him teaching Rellana which he likely also did in the Lands Between. It seems clear Rellana brought a few Carians with her (the handful of white robed sorcerers, Moonthryll, and her teacher Ymir)

But we can come to two possible ideas from Manus Metyr and both give us a similar end point.

A. he had his own family and a child named Yuri who died very young and was buried in the graveyard, perhaps the only family he brought with him when he left everything and moved there.

B. Yuri was always just the fingercreeper and the fact that we can read the grave pre-quest is A an error. (odd but still completely possible) Or B this implies he has been continuously trying to birth the same fingercreeper over and over. The original fingercreeper child, Yuri, that he came to love dearly that never lived long being the main grave and the others all potentially being the additional failed attempts

Later on, during his research into the fingercreepers/two fingers he learns everything he knows in present day Elden Ring, becoming a high priest of Metyr and learning many of her spells. It is also during this time that he seems to beg Metyr/The Greater Will, to allow himself to birth fingers of his own.

This can be interpreted two ways as well. And we'll go in order from our last A and Bs.

A. He loses his only child in the land of shadow and is aware of Metyrs abilities. The GW (Or Metyr?) takes pity on him and shares power with him, allowing him to birth the fingercreeper Yuri. It is up for interpretation whether Yuri actually has the soul of his lost child in it or if Ymir is just so thankful for this new child that he projects his dead son onto him. I don't think there's any emotional distinction here.

B. He wishes to become the new envoy of the greater will from the start and is given one singular child, or just one child who lives, again, likely out of the desire for connection, pity, or perhaps pettiness of Metyr. (i'll come back to this in terms of Metyr giving him power). Through this he inevitably comes to love Yuri because obviously he is going to love his first child more than life itself.

As i said, the end point is the same. He is a Carian. He loves too fiercely. His original goals are pushed aside by the love he has for Yuri. In private he only talks about Yuri. He doesn't muse on and on about clinical knowledge or his desire to replace a god. He does not speak with any hint of madness, just utter devotion that I could see being seen as unhealthy. (i don't interpret it this way at this point but i get it. Just remember he is someone who is nearly completely alone in the land of shadow who has potentially experienced loss of severe magnitude before)

I also think that what we overhear at Yuri's grave sounds completely normal for grief. He wishes to be left alone and when he talks to Yuri he talks about only wanting to be his mother. He laments failing and promises to try again for him. This also lends to the idea that he believes there is a singular soul being moved around.

He only talks about Yuri. He isn't talking about replacing Metry and these are his most private thoughts.

I have seen theories that suggest he did not birth Yuri himself and perhaps stole him. His dialogue in private heavily implies he birthed him himself. As well as his unaltered robes which say they conceal an abundance of squirming beneath. So he had those fingers under there the whole time, definitely not as large and efficient as the ones during his boss fight, but they were there... and they were functioning.

I also don't think he ever comes off as this delusional? that might just be me but everything he says and everything Jolán says about him contradicts this. If there's any delusion it's the denial that comes with grief where he could believe his child's soul is in the baby fingercreeper.

But back to his quest- when we meet him he knows that the fingers that told Marika what to do were corrupt because Metyr is corrupt. He is exclusively blaming Metyr for this source of sickness. (this is an instance of him being a not fully educated narrator. He is slightly right, but needs to go further, a further we only learn from item descriptions where we learn the GW no longer wants a finger mother* i'll get back to this. But also THIS IS SO IMPORTANT WE LITERALLY LEARN THAT THE LANDS BETWEEN LOST THE PLOT AND THE FINGERS AND ANY ENDING THAT FOLLOWS THEM IS WRONG)

I believe at this point he thinks he birthed Yuri through the powers of the greater will and himself exclusively. I don't think he believes Metyr was involved because he knows Metyr is sick. He thinks the GW still wants a finger mother to send new messages.

We do his quest, we bind ourselves to our fate in the stars and of course that fate leads us to slay another remembrance boss. We need to clean up all the failed ideas of the GW so they aren't sticking around and causing trouble. Classic tarnished shit. iykyk.

EDIT: there is dialogue I missed and it seems dialogue a lot of people missed. If you talk to him after fighting Anna but before Metyr he asks you if you saw something down there, referring to Metyr. He tells you to remove it and any misconceptions from your mind lest it bring woe upon the both of you. (This is paraphrasing I don't completely remember the exact wording rn but it's essentially this). He doesn't want you to mess with Metyr. He has his own plans. He knows something bad will happen and he tells you to forget about her.

So why is Ymir hurt by you fighting Metyr even though the quest lead you hear? Irreparably hurt even? (1 and 2 can exist together still. they are not exclusively one or the other)

He had pushed aside this loftier goal and was still grieving for Yuri and only wanted to be his mother. The mother of one child. (To me that feels like it isn't taking it far enough. I do think he firmly believes he can do it better still. He hasn't realized the full truth. I just don't think this is at the forefront of his mind at this moment. He still wants to be The mother. His high opinion of himself makes it clear he believes he can do this)

He did not know that the GW had no need for Metyr any longer and that she had been broken and abandoned. He merely thought she was corrupted. So when he is possessed BY Metyr this is awful. He wanted to be a new mother. Not the same one.

GOES WITH MY PREVIOUS ADD ON: he may be aware he is using Metyr as a power source and believes killing her will affect him negatively. It is unclear if he knows the type or extent. Perhaps believing it will take away his power or perhaps aware it could be too much for him. He is also learning from her, so her untimely death would also be bad simply for this reason.

Okay now it's time for me to talk about Metyr in greater detail

The Staff of the Great Beyond says Metyr was broken and abandoned but still kept waiting for messages. This is also what the spell fleeting microcosm says which is likely referring to both Ymir and Metyr at this point since it is a spell that can be purchased from him as well as one Metyr uses, going on to say "The broken and discarded are fully willing to cling to fleeting simulacra, earning them some modicum of sympathy" He is a clearly broken person who thought he was grasping the GW's truth but wasn't and Metyr was clinging to her old life hoping for it to come back and for her to have purpose again despite being abandoned by her own mother. Metyr is unique and incredibly complicated which is interesting because her closest equivalent is the Elden Beast and other falling stars. Her items make it clear she had complex feelings- anger, grief, loneliness, resentment, loyalty. She WAS the magnificent gleaming daughter of the Greater Will. She was once loved and she knows that. Her other remembrance weapon is called Gazing Finger, but it's the name of its move that tells us the most about her. Kowtower's Resentment. She showed unwavering respect to the GW but she grew to resent it. We learn so much about her that only further ties into the overall themes of motherhood in Elden Ring. Imagine how Metyr must feel. Aside from the brewing hate inside her caused by the GW directly TOO her she is also forced to watch her children either grow increasingly more and more corrupt over time or slain. She knows her children aren't going into the world to be loved any longer. She knows she's sending them off to a terrible fate and still she must do it. Her children are purposeless. When we tie our fate to the stars- the great cosmic will- the new plan, it brings us there and it prompts us to kill Metyr and clean up its loose ends. But instead of letting herself be killed outright or leaving the lands between/shadow, she goes somewhere else because she is angry. She wants to be loved and needed. She is desperate to receive messages again. She wants to prove herself. We can say for certain that it is Metyr that possess Ymir in our fight because the GW has no desire to make a new mother of fingers and Metyr had already been lending him her power. There is only one and we clearly don't kill all of her at first. Is this her last effort to best the GW or merely her defiance to continue on living? Waiting to be of use again? Alas, we kill Ymir as well. ALSO- just mentioned Metyr to my wife and she said "Yeah Metyr is so similar to Messmer" and I literally said OH FUCK. YEAH! So let's touch on that: Both of them are abandoned by their mother, trapped somewhere, enacting her original design, spreading her original message all while never hearing from her ever again and still remaining fiercely loyal to the end.

Now back to Ymir and Metyr

Was Metyr sharing her powers with him out of loneliness or spite or simply curiosity?

It's definitely something that's up for personal interpretation because I don't believe these are spells just anyone can use or learn. The simple glintstone nail spells even say Ymir thinks they are "child's play" but fleeting microcosm and Cherishiny fingers are very different. The nail spells are ones others may be able to learn but the other two are unique to finger mothers. Also the act of birthing fingers is not a spell. It's Metyrs own unique ability and purpose- so clearly Metyrs power directly from her.

Did she long to be understood? To share what she was going through with someone else? Was she trying to show him that it wasn't her that was broken?

Did she resent him for blaming her and studying her? Or did she herself think she was to blame? Did she share her grief with him out of spite? Making him too experience loss via Yuri?

Or did she also have a bit of hope that maybe through a new vessel she would be seen again by the GW? Maybe her children wouldn't be cursed.

She certainly shared quite a lot with Ymir for it to be out of spite and their items and spells mimicking each other in descriptions really makes it feel like she wanted him to understand her. Both of their staffs show a microcosm but receive no answer. She lets him birth her children.

And Yuri is clearly aware of this. He's likely never seen Metyr but still has nightmares about her. Ymir telling him to "put that tangled mess out of his mind" He's torn quite literally about his origins. Ymir is his mother but Metyr is a presence he is aware of and in unfamiliar with to the point of fear. Perhaps this is what brings about his early death- that incomplete or splintered origin.

On to Ymir boss fight speculation/ theory

We have our ideas on why Ymir was hurt and upset by us fighting Metyr. Him taking on her corruption and learning GW truths as well as his own grief already being too forefront. But I wonder if when Metyr possessed Ymir he took on her grief and loneliness as well. Would he be able to cope with her literal cosmic scale of loss and heartache? Being misunderstood? Being abandoned by her own mother? I think it's a really interesting foil to have Sellen and co. destroyed and driven to insanity by knowledge and Ymir driven to insanity by grief and love. It makes the tear streaked makeup on his boss model hit a lot harder that way and feel far more intentional as tears which is what the dripping black really evokes (despite is being part of the tattoo category of character creation which is definitely just character creator limitation)

When we fight Ymir he also has a really effective voice inflection change as well. Props to his voice actor for almost making him sound completely different and just gone.

But yeah it feels clear that his fight is the built up madness of both him and Metyr's greatest desires manifested. They're consumed by loss and anger and a desire to be wanted and seen in the eyes of the greater will. They both want to receive messages and be The Mother.

Then we get his normal voice when we kill him where all he can think of is Yuri again and wanting to be his mother. He isn't thinking about being THE mother. Literally just Yuri. What is most important to him. The true Ymir. And of course, it's similar to Rennala's true voice coming through when we beat her, speaking about her beloved daughter, just HER daughter, not the sweetings.

I truly don't think he was as insane or gone as people think he was in nearly the entirety of his quest. and I honestly just think people default to saying "oh he's insane and delusional and freaky" because he is a "man" who is a mother.

okay thank god i can finally get into the gender of all this.

What do we know about Ymir in regards to gender?

Names are intentionally chosen in fromsoft games. Ymir was a norse giant who, though using masculine pronouns, was considered neither male nor female because he could birth children of his own.

He is named after an agender mythological figure who also has a moon named after him.

So we can read into Ymir being agender. He uses masculine pronouns, wears headwear that is strictly feminine, very neutral royal attire (we don't know enough about Carian clothing to have an opinion on the robe, gloves, or pants), a little makeup, and has no hang ups on being able to be a mother.

I, as someone who is nonbinary, have my own unique connection to him as a character that makes me really like this about him. In my brain gender means nothing which separates me from my trans wife where gender and expression mean everything. I have never had a mental connection to gender. I have presented many ways in my life since coming out. My outward appearance does not dictate my relationship to gender nor what I can do. In fact I think about gender very little.

Motherhood not being synonymous with female pronouns here is cool to me as well. it is nice gender non-essentialism.

But if we get into Elden Ring as being about women and the feminine divine as a whole, we can also read into him differently.

I've seen many people tag him as being trans to them! And I like that just as much.

He studies the fingers which are exclusively ruled by women. Metyr is their mother, finger readers are all women, then of course finger maidens. Even further, Metyr is a daughter of the GW. He says we ALL are her children. The GW is the original mother of all things. The creator of all life because she created stardust and to study the stars is to study the life in all things. Nearly all societies in ER are led by women. There is an innate power in womanhood in ER.

He gazed into the stars with adoration in his heart and knew true love. He felt loved amidst that divinity and sought to follow that path for himself. He embraced something that meant everything to him body and soul. He underwent true physical change for it. And with Yuri he was happy.

And of course, as all soulsborne games, it has to be tragic for us to see beauty in it, so he, just like nearly everyone else we know, faces a terrible end because of the fate of our tarnished and the GW's goal. He isn't a villain because he has a unique relationship with gender and it is kinda wild i've seen someone say that.

My additional thought on this is that it feels unnecessarily detailed for his robe description to talk about the ruff that "sparkles like a flower wet with dew" We really only get two other characters specifically connected to flowers and that's Malenia and St.Trina. Both are related to feminine identity, divinity, and true self. Malenia becoming the Scarlet Aeonia, her true form as a goddess, and St. Trina literally being the woman Miquella was meant to become. A literal transition could have saved her narrative.

So yes, I can absolutely see people interpreting Ymir through a trans woman lens as well. I love that different people can identify with this character differently and see parts of themself here and if other people have different takes on this character's gender identity and it making them feel represented, that's great! I just can only talk on my personal take and the discussion i had about him with my wife.

Can I see why people wouldn't like him? Yeah, so long as it isn't based on a lack of knowledge of the plot, items, and dialogue, or based on extreme pre-existing biases. Because I have seen a bad take or two that boil down to this kind of misinformation which is really frustrating.

There is no evidence in the text that he is a bad person. Jolán respects and cares for him immensely. She doesn't reveal to us any actual feelings about Anna and this is all very vague. Yes Anna is a puppet but Nox are the only people we know of that did willingly become puppets. She is also a recusant which is interesting as well. Most invaders are just invaders. Recusants specifically are invaders with a job (recusant fingers only come from Rykard but are snake scaled so potentially also Eiglay? Base Serpent? She may have just served another master). There may also be a reason for this due to game function alone or there may be the narrative reason. We really can't know much about them as they are side, side characters. But them being Nox i think is telling. He was also clearly a very respected Carian sorcerer and was a teacher to Rellana. Textually, he is never portrayed negatively by others nor in his items.

Here are some final add-ons

that i don't want to complicate my earlier jumble with that whether important or not, are worth seeing. I just didn't know where to add them. Also I do not have a final interpretation of these things in the greater context:

An item I would like to touch on as well as an item that goes hand in hand with it (pun intended) is the spell Cherishing Fingers as well as Fingercreeper Ashes. Cherishing Fingers says "The dear fingers look after their mother, or perhaps that is merely what the mother wishes to believe." but Fingercreeper ashes says " They are ever so fond of their mothers at this tender age"

These two items kind of contradict each other, implying the fingers DO care about their mother. But the intentional doubt is interesting. Fingercreeper ashes, as well as Yuri being in his arms really makes it feel like they do care, but perhaps as they grow older they don't? Or this can help drive a "delusional" narrative. But fingercreeper ashes really make it seem like it goes both ways.

Also, Why are the ruins (Miyr) beneath Manus Metyr just an anagram for Ymir? Did he name them that? Did he name himself Ymir? Is it a cool coincidence that he pogged at when he found out? Is it just a random world building choice? This I literally cannot interpret.

I thought of the name change thing and that lead me to investigate every single rise on both maps to see if one could have been his but nothing seems likely. but on to Rabbath's rise

Anna's puppet body is there. Rabbath is a known sorcerer who was a spellmachinist. Being a machinist is very anti everything Ymir does and is into. Is Rabbath the person who designed the marionettes? That is a loose end we don't know the answer to and being a machinist is telling but this is extreme speculation. I saw someone suggest he and Ymir may have been either friends or rivals- both could give potential case for Ymir's puppet being there. Again. JUST speculative interpretations of this because we also do not know enough about Anna either. Rabbath also, like many other Rise owners, doesn't appear to be dead. Some Rises have a gravenmass in them which feels clear was the original owner. But Rabbaths is empty and something different about Rabbath's rise in comparison to most others is that all the candles in his rise are out. I don't know what this means. Why is Anna in a part of his rise that is nearly inaccessible? To me this makes it seem like she’s exclusively there to be kept safe as this place can only be accessed by us on torrent… literally no one else.

I'd like to add some additional, after the fact, thoughts and observations I have no place for as well

In terms of Jolán I’m confident her loyalty to Ymir stems from the Nox’s belief that one day their lord of night will come to them, bringing with them the age of stars and the fate that the Nox had been stripped of after their banishment. She refers to Ymir as her shining star and after he is gone she only sees darkness. I could very well see her believing Ymir is the promised lord of night as he so heavily believes in the fate of the stars and brings stars to her life personally.

But by all accounts the Nox hate the GW and were the ones who created a blade to slay its vassals, which Metyr is one of. Perhaps this is where Jolan and Anna disagreed. Perhaps this is why she is a puppet now. Anna may have stayed true to their beliefs where Jolan instead saw the promised liege and pledged her service to him. Again, anything with Anna is still speculation but it would make sense if she and Anna and the other swordhands of night were initially there for a reason as they are the only Nox in the lands of Shadow and wear fingerprint armor independent of their connection to Ymir. Perhaps the fingerslayer blade was made for Metyr, the source of the GWs words. Perhaps this is the cause of the injury on Metyrs chest. This is something I could get far too into speculation on though. But it is interesting to speculate on as the location of her injury is not somewhere she would have fingers, so likely not Ymir’s doing, and is also a real “going for the kill” location. Again, chew on this one as you will.

Cherishing Fingers: I thought about this A LOT and I wish it was easy for me to fit it into the upper main post. Cherishing Fingers is "one of Ymir's spells" so why isn't it in his bell bearing? We get it not when he dies but after. It isn't dropped with his death loot and it only shows up after we rest and it doesn't show up on his body it shows up at Yuri's grave. And I know you could say "Well characters like Rogiers items are gotten from where we last saw him sitting even though he's gone) but we already got all of Ymir's things. Literally 6 items worth of loot. This is intentionally somewhere else. So two theories. This is not Ymir's final item given to us but Yuris. The fingers no longer have to protect their mother and are no longer trapped in rebirth so they leave behind a spell after they too finally pass on. Theory 2, Ymir, after our fight, chooses to die by Yuri's side, at his child's grave, leaving behind a final spell to remember him by. Regardless there is a reason this spell is separate and special. It's description that can sew doubt, to me, is negated by the positive description on the fingercreeper ashes that confirm they do love their mother. This also being found at a fingercreepers grave is also very telling.

The caged fingercreepers: if you look close and really work your camera, there are a handful of cages only near Ymir's throne that have fingercreepers in them. Are they still alive? Are they in there for their safety or because Ymir thinks differently of them/they aren't as important to him as Yuri? I do not have a final interpretation of this but it's important to note here. I have my wide reaching headcanon about this of course but it isn't something I'm confident presenting the way I present these interpretations.

Ymir’s neck ruff: this is only coming up because I’m writing a full over the top clothing analysis for him, but this one is connected to the lore, not the independent character design choices and it’s actually quite interesting. Aside from its description as a flower, which I mentioned in my gender portion, it also uses the word dew, something that has a specific and loaded meaning in ER and there are a lot of important Dew items. The new item dewgem, being connected to sprites, the dewkissed herba and Celestial Dew from the eternal cities, and Blessed Dew and the icon shield depicting erdtree boons and a divine age. Because dewgem is very hornsent adjacent I'm more inclined to connect it to the latter two types and I think I'd like to connect it to them both at once instead of picking but feel free to side with either. I'm just telling you how I feel. The allusion to celestial dew and glowing like a star, mentioning fate in the night sky, and being the dew of absolution is all interesting and this would be one additional connection to Joláns adoration to him, seeing the resemblance and iconography of her stars on his person. Creating familiarity. His mentioning of redemption and desire to break the cycle of corrupt messages also ties well into the idea of absolution and new beginnings. He is obviously tied to the stars, but the ruff is gold much like the blessed dew items which are described as divine, depicting ideas of eternal prosperity and blessings which paint dew as a concept as something extremely symbolic and sacred. Dew in both forms represent a new age and gifts of that age- one being absolution and fate, the other prosperity and divinity. Ymir believes in all of these things. Unlike the Nox he values the Greater Wills goals and words. He wishes to help bring about a new age, guided by the stars, via the Greater Wills untainted words. So the connection to blessed dew wouldn't be "erdtree good" but moreso how dew was viewed during that time and to those who believed in it. It seems more like a nod to the prosperity possible in a new age with roots that are not tainted and mad. A motif intentionally conveying similar ideas that others already have positive connection to. (You thought that erdtree was good? Imagine a tree that isn't corrupt)

OKAY ANYWAYS THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK!! If anyone stuck around for the whole thing I will be truly baffled but thank you if you did! Love Ymir with all my heart! if there are any typos or repetition please understand i really just kept going train of thought style here and its a lot to reread 4 times over to keep double checking as every time i got sidetracked.

[thethronezone]

Love the father Primarch series. Keeps getting better.

The schooling bit did get me wondering how said Primarchs would react if they discovered they had a kid they hadn’t known about for whatever reason.

Mortarion tries to convince himself that it was better this way. He's not ... father-material. Surely, he would have made for an awful parent, ruined this child like his adoptive father ruined him. Yet his heart won't stop aching and raging inside his chest because what if? What if he had raised them? What if he had been given the chance? It's the way that chance was taken away from him that makes him feel like he's been robbed. And what about the child, his child? Do they feel the same? Or do they already loathe him? The thought of finding out scares him.

Fulgrim is caught between admiring his newly discovered offspring and seething with outrage over the fact that they were hidden from him. Look at them, perfect in every way. Why would someone hide them from him? Fulgrim would have approached fatherhood with open arms, would have treasured every moment and yet... those were stolen. All of it, taken from him, without him even knowing. But now he does know and Fulgrim promises, he's going to prove to everyone that he can still be a father.

In some distant past, Angron might have considered becoming a father at some point in his life, but that fantasy had been torn apart the same moment the nails were plunged into his skull. After that, he never even considered the possibility. Yet here they are, his child. And Angron rages. Not at the child, they haven't done anything wrong, even he can recognize that. But he feels hurt. Betrayed. Confused. And deep in his heart, frightened. Because what does he do now? He's not prepared for this, he does not know what to do or how to be a father. All these emotions turn into violent anger.

Magnus senses them before he sees them. He feels their soul and his heart aches over how similar it feels to his own. And then he sees them, a child sharing his red skin, and what little doubt there might have been in his mind disappears without a trace. He wants to get to know them, wants them to know him, wants to teach and nurture them, watch them grow. But Magnus is a proud, proud man and while he genuinely wants to get to know his child, he just can't let go of his proud, making it hard for him to truly connect with them.

Rather than angered, Perturabo's first reaction is one of frustration. Because this was not part of the plan. He never planned on having children and now he's suddenly got one? What is he supposed to do with it? It's only after he comes to terms with the fact that he's apparently a father than the rage sets in. Perturabo might not have wanted children but who had the gall to take that choice from him? To deny him the right to his own flesh and blood? It's the lack of control that angers him the most.

Who's child is it? Alpharius or Omegon's? They aren't sure, identical as they are. Omegon secretly hopes its his. Just this one thing that he's got that Alpharius doesn't. Alpharius knows this but doesn't mind and truly doesn't care who's the 'real' father. In the end, the child belongs to both of them. They are both are less angered by being lied to and more curious as to how they didn't learn of this sooner. They take pride in knowing everything about their surroundings, about being aware of every little detail. The fact that this went hidden for as long as it did is both intriguing and slightly infuriating. Will subtly infiltrate the child's life before they reveal themselves.

Lorgar tries to rationalize this as some sort of divine trial. It's the only way he can make sense of the situation and not get consumed by his feelings of anger and grief. No, he has to believe that there's some sort of deeper meaning and purpose being this, otherwise, why torment him like this? He already loves his child, treasures them, and he's only known of their existence for the briefest of moments. To imagine that they have been out there all along, that he's missed so much of their life already... It's a test of faith, Lorgar reminds himself. A holy trial, he says as his fingers dig into the surface of the table, leaving behind thick grooves.

Horus always wanted to be a father. And while he loves his legion, his astartes, they are not really his. He didn't raise them, he didn't cradle them in his arms when they were just a babe, didn't tuck them into bed. And Horus thought he would never get that. Yet here they are, his child. His blood and flesh. And before today, he didn't even know they existed. He is happy. He's angry. Sad, disappointed, overwhelmed. Someone kept them from him. Lied to him. It makes him want to kill someone. Depending on how old the kid is, how long they have been kept a secret, he just might. For now, he's got so much to catch up on.

I will not lie, Konrad will probably kill the mom for hiding away his kid all this time. And then he will spend a long time just staring at his child, blood still fresh on his face. They look so much like him, it both unsettles him and soothes some primal part of his brain that recognizes them as his offspring. But just how deep are the similarities? Is it just the surface or are they like him, twisted and broken on a fundamental level? He'd probably lock them away somewhere, a safe place where he doesn't have to see them, not because hates them (he doesn't) but because he's afraid of what he'll possibly see when he looks into their eyes.

Sanguinius has only known them for but a brief moment and he already adores them. It's not just because they looks so much like him, it's the future he sees when he looks at them. In a way, it feels like he already knows them. But they don't know him and oh, doesn't that just break his heart? To them, he's just a stranger, a man they happen to share half their blood with. That's why, Sanguinius tries not to be pushy and overwhelming with his affection, despite how much he yearns to spoil his child. He will take this nice and slow, proving himself to them as both a human being and as a father.

For some time, Corvus considers if he should just let them go. As much as this situation pains him, as betrayed as he feels, he genuinely questions if this was maybe for the child's best interest. Could he even be a proper father? Would they be happier without him in their life? Corvus hesitates. Doubts himself. Shoves his own feelings to the side as he focuses on what's truly best for his child. His child. He isn't sure what's worse. The fact that he's never even met them or that he's already ready to do anything for them, just to see them safe and happy.

It's about responsibility, Ferrus thinks. He needs to do what's right and that's to teach this child who's undoubtedly inherited too much of him. Are they strong? Fast? Durable? Intelligent? They need to learn control. And that's where he comes in. That's all there is to it. That's how he justifies bringing them into his fold. Ferrus doesn't need to be a father, he doesn't need to nurture or raise them. He doesn't even know where he would start with that. He couldn't... He can't raise a child. It was probably for the better that they were kept from him, he wouldn't have been a good father. Telling himself this makes it easier for Ferrus to come to terms with the fact that he's essentially missed out on his child's entire life.

Rogal is very displeased. Not with the fact that he has a child, that he accepts fairly quickly, but that they have been kept from him. He feels like its an injustice, that he's been lied and deceived. Robbed. But Rogal does not dwell on those feelings. Those will bring him nothing of fruition. No, what he does instead is focus on the present and the future. Rogal will bring his child into his fold and he will raise them like he was supposed to do from the beginning. He will be the father he's supposed to be and he will do this child right.

Vulkan feels like an awful human being and some irrational part of him blames himself. The fact that all this time, he had a child he didn't even know existed. He can't stop thinking about all those lost moments, the time he's missed out on. He feels like he should have known, somehow. Wants nothing more than to make up for lost time and get to know his kid. Practically throws himself into fatherhood, accepts it immediately though his enthusiasm and unconditional love can be slightly intimidating for someone who doesn't know him.

"They've got my eyes." That's all Lion can think when he comes face to face with his secret child for the first time. He recognizes other features as well, things like posture and expression. So much like him, but also not. He does not know how to feel about it. Part of him feels outraged. Furious. He's been lied to, deceived and the thought of it makes him want to hurt someone- But he won't, because he's not a beast. No, apparently, he's a father and while there's a lot of emotions there that Lion does not have the time to unpack, he knows one thing for sure; parenthood is a duty and he's always fulfilled his.

Even if Leman was blind, he'd still know the kid is his. He can smell it on them, parts of his own scent. Every Space Wolf has some of Leman's scent but with this kid, HIS kid, it's stronger. And once he figures out that he's a father? Yeah, he's taking this kid back with him to Fenris. Doesn't care if he's got to drag them there kicking and screaming, he's going to raise his kid in the way he thinks they should be raised. Tries to focus on the future so not to think about the past and the fact that someone HID HIS OWN FLESH AND BLOOD FROM HIM because that will only cause him to rage and fester in hatred.

Jaghatai feels robbed. He knows he would have loved being told that he was going to become a father, would have looked forward to all those moments where he could raise his child and watch them navigate in the world around them. And while Jaghatai will make sure to have his justice, that's not what's on the forefront of his mind. No, his child is. Because strangers as they may be to one another, they are still family, they are still his blood, and Jaghatai still thinks he's got the chance to be a father. Everything is not lost and it's better to start late than never.

Poor Roboute. On the outside, he's professional, dignified in regards to this startling revelation. Barely a twitch on his face as he learns that he's got a child, a child that's been kept a secret from him for years. But inside, he's a mess of emotions. He feels lost, betrayed, angry, sad. But he can't express any of that because people are looking at him and expects so much. So, while his heart aches and screams for answers, he calmly tells his aides to bring the child to him, with a full Ultramarine escort, of course. It's only when Roboute is alone that he buries his face in his hands and allows his emotions to run their course.

[envy-of-the-apple]

“Its probably due to grief, but when Satoru proposes Ms Sawai agrees. its not rlly a love story, but you're comfortable, reina has a dad who adores her, and you're pregnant again. it is what it is.”

Naw that man is EVIL! He gets her husband killed, takes advantage of her grief AND gets her pregnant? Plus he’s the strongest THEREFORE most needed sorcerer around, how will he help her raise another baby? Him being around could’ve helped her raise her daughter (a bit since he’d have a lot of work) and he could’ve provided them with money so she wouldn’t stress (maybe be able to continue dance at home). But he gets her PREGNANT? Now she has to raise 2 children, 3 if you include that man child😒, and she can’t dance. I rlly thought he’d be kind enough to build her a small dance studio but that’s my fault for being delusional 😞

(Unless he got stubborn and cut down on the workload so he could spend more time with his family)

idk if i mentioned this before but i think Satoru would deffff get a lesser workload, mostly cuz he's the heir of the gojo clan and they.want.babies. i think regarding him running around everywhere, that was just gojo pushing himself for missions. if he just stopped doing it like yuki...who's gonna force him??

hes more interested in teaching anyways, so my best guess is that he stays home with his family, teaches the youth and only goes on really really hyper-specific missions. more ppl def do die from his actions, but he doesnt rlly give a shit anymore. the only reason gojo did that anyway was cuz he didnt rlly have a life...and now that he does well its kinda hard to leave it.

gojo building miss sawai a fucking dance studio would be the shittiest thing he could do, but i can definitely see him doing it because he thinks he's being so 'nice and loving'. but he will definitely stick around and help with the family! he rlly does love miss sawai...he just goes about it in the worst way.

[longing-for-rain]

what exactly is Aang's toxic masculinity that you're talking about? there are no examples of such behavior on his part in the show. he is not an ideal person, he is a child who sometimes behaved incorrectly, just like all the other children in the show (Katara, Toph, Sokka), and this is normal.

in addition, we see how he regrets some of his wrong actions and gets better, while Zuko does not regret his toxic behavior, doesn't apologize and doesn't face the consequences of his behavior (racist jokes about Aang, demands that Katara forgive him as if he has the right to her forgiveness, an attack on Aang to "teach him a lesson" and many other things).

Hi anon, thanks for the ask! This is a very good illustration of what I was talking about in this post when I mentioned that I feel toxic men are overlooked more often for appearing “nice” than they are for being conventionally attractive.

No examples of toxic behavior in the show? What do you call this then?

I know what I (and the law) call it:

But you see, he’s “nice” right? This is just a misbehaved child, as you put it? Yah, no. He knew better and still did it because he was possessive; this whole interaction started because he was jealous that an actress playing Katara was interested in men other than him. And the show proceeded to frame the situation in a way that made Aang sympathetic, despite being the aggressor and the one behaving irrationally. How much more “toxically masculine” can you get than that? But he put on a flower crown once so we’re supposed to think he’s a soft uwu feminine boi (even though he was absolutely enraged that a female actress played him).

I also find it very interesting that you describe Katara and Sokka as “children” while Zuko is omitted from that list despite being the same age. Are you admitting you agree he’s more mature, or are you admitting that you hold him to different standards?

But, anyways. You asked about toxic behavior on Aang’s part, which I’ll get further into now that the most egregious example is out of the way.

Let’s break down what you consider unforgivably toxic behavior on Zuko’s part and compare it to Aang’s behavior in similar situations.

1. “Racist” jokes

I’m guessing this is made with reference to the “Air Temple preschool” comment. How exactly is this racist? In context, Aang is the one trying to force his beliefs on others, and Zuko makes this comment to a) tell him to back off and b) point out that Aang is, in fact, a child who doesn’t have any business telling Katara how to feel.

This point is particularly interesting to me, because it implies that the simple fact that Zuko doesn’t agree with the philosophy of Aang’s culture makes him racist. By this logic, Aang is also racist against Katara’s culture, because he clearly disagrees with her philosophy and is openly telling her that his culture is morally virtuous over hers. And well. That’s even more believable considering Aang’s previous reactions to Water Tribe culture.

Ah, yes. Playing with a cultural artifact like it’s a toy because you were upset about not being the center of attention for once, and telling everyone how disgusting you think cultural food is, what great ways to show the supposed love of your life how much you respect her culture!

I know your response to this point would be something like “uwu but he’s a kid he didn’t knowww” ok well. The same logic can be applied to any alleged “racism” on Zuko’s part.

2. “Demanding” forgiveness

Zuko: What can I do to make it up to you?

Ah, yes. How demanding of him. He’s clearly so self-centered and only thinking about his own values and agenda here.

It’s not like he…

…told his friend how she’s allowed to process her grief and try to impose his own morals…

…or demanded to know if his crush liked him back, wouldn’t accept “no” as an answer, and forced a kiss on her…

…or told an abuse victim he was wrong to want to kill his abusive father for trying to commit a genocide…

…oh, um. Yeah. Sorry, but after actually watching the show it’s very clear to me which character doesn’t seem to regret or see the flaws in any of his actions at the end of the show, which is when all of these examples took place.

3. Training in the finale

“Attacking Aang to teach him a lesson” … wow, that’s a very dishonest way of phrasing that situation. I’m impressed, I have to say. I’ve seen lots of dumb takes from Aang stans over the years but this is a new one.

Well, luckily I actually watched the scene in context, so my reaction was the same as all the other characters’ reactions in canon when they learned the context behind this “attack”:

They agree with him. Yeah. Obviously, when nobody is taking training seriously when the world is about to literally go up in flames, you might need to do something to get their attention.

“But it was dangerous!” you might argue. Well… yeah. When magic and bending is in the equation, training in the Avatar universe has been shown to be somewhat dangerous at times. As an example, from this very same episode, Toph very nearly smashed Sokka with a giant flaming rock. That was way closer to hurting someone than Zuko was in this incident. If you’re going to fault characters for making their training exercises too dangerous, I guess Toph is mega cancelled.

Now back to Aang. What was his reaction in this situation? How did he react to the end of the world being days away? He ran away with absolutely no plan. Just like he did at the very beginning of the show.

I mean, think about it. This is a critical flaw (and toxic trait) in Aang that is literally never addressed, because he starts and ends the show the exact same way: he’s faced with a problem, he runs away from it, then he’s saved by an in-universe equivalent of an Act of God. Wowie, such great character development. Not fixing your core flaw and having a mythical plot device materialize into existence to solve your problems for you. Aang’s whole arc is a big blah, because the writing fails to address any of his flaws or have him meaningfully question any of his values.

Meanwhile, Zuko has consistently been a fan favorite because he’s the opposite. His flaws are meaningfully addressed, he does admit he’s wrong and fix his flaws, and his character shows a critically acclaimed change throughout the show. His arc is written so well that despite being a cartoon character, Zuko is widely considered the poster child for a good redemption arc across all forms of media.

So anyways, miss me with the double standards… there is a reason why Zuko is the fan favorite, and it’s not just his abs 🔥

[alltheboysandgirlsiloved]

one thing I haven't touched upon yet is how well the showrunners handled the time jump between Camp Cretaceous and Chaos Theory and more specifically - how well they handled maturing the campers.

At least to me the transition is nearly smoothless. Like, a couple of years have passed for those kids and those included years when people tend to change a lot - from children they grow into young adults. And the show did a fantastic job of shaping their adult forms in terms of personality. Because all of them have the core traits that we associated them with in Camp Cretaceous but at the same time they are more mature and carry their experiences on their back - both the experiences that we know of and those that could potentially fill up the time jump space if you know what I mean.

I look at Kenji for example and I still see remains of the boy that he was - a little bit arrogant (it still shows! he is very proud just of different things!), someone who doesn't shy away from an argument; but at the same time I see a man who has spent hours teaching kids and adults how to rock-climb - he can be patient too; I see someone who had to re-evaluate a lot in his life, and I can see that it wasn't easy, that it took a toll on him.

Or for example Sammy! Someone who loves her friends and family dearly still, a girl who was willing to fight for those she loved. But at the same time I see a young woman who knows that sometimes a compromise is the best option (like that situation with her neighbor). I see someone who still learns when her love and affection need to take a backseat for others to develop. I see someone who knows that sometimes being apart, even if it hurts, may be a good thing. I see someone forgiving but persistent.

Ben too... A boy who went through severe trauma that made his personality do flip and then, once time passed, he started rebuilding what was left of his old core. Anxious he is, a little boy still, but also a fighter - because he had to be one. At the same time, I see a young man who is a little torn on where he stands, who still figures out the details of his personality but who also knows his strengths and capabilities. In the end, he is energy-unbound, and he is eager to learn about the world in so many ways.

Darius, a boy who lost so much, and a young man who lost just as much. Life hasn't been easy on him. In jwcc grief encouraged him to attend camp, fulfill his father's dream. In jwct that aspect of his personality develops even more - now grief spins him into action, he doesn't wait for things to happen, he acts. He can work with others but he can also rely on himself, he grew up; he knows that he can handle himself, he still learns that he can reach out and ask for help, but he's getting there. He really is.

Not to mention Yas who has always been a creative person. Yes, it may be surprising that I mention that first but look at her now - inventing stuff, conducting projects? Remember her sketchbook in jwcc? Yeah, look where that creativity took her, look where her compassion took her - she helps people by helping herself. It was such a problem for her in jwcc (esp at the beginning) and look at her now - she's miles ahead of her old self.

Their personalities make so much sense because they are a clear continuation of their personalities in jwcc, and that's one of the reasons why jwct is so freaking good.

[hydrus101]

It’s so fascinating to me about how much of Malevolent centers around bad or misguided fathers.

We spend ample amounts of time with Arthur’s grief and his faults, his fear of fatherhood, his failings of Faroe and the ensuing spiral afterwards. We hear of Bella’s strict upbringing, of Daniel’s controlling nature, the desire to shape his daughter into what he expected her to be, and even admitting to Arthur’s face that he intended to mold him as well, into what he thought his daughter’s husband should be. We learn of Larson’s betrayals, the sacrifices of his children: the monsters he made of those he should’ve loved, all in the pursuit of power and legacy. There’s an argument to be made even, of fragments and reflections and daughter and sons, that the King - that initial version of him now dead in all respects - was a sort of father, with John and Yellow as his residuals, his sons, his heirs, in a way. Finding their own identities now, free from the shadow of a predecessor, free to chose their own destinies, wether that is to separate themselves entirely, to scream defiantly of humanity and hope and self, or to try and reshape the visage of that dead malevolent god in desperate pursuit of love that wasn’t given, driven by a hate that was shared. What other analogy so seamlessly fits with the relationship between Arthur and Yellow than that of a neglectful father? The one who was supposed to be patient, be caring, be kind, the one who was supposed to teach this new being, this new child, about what life could be like? What love and kindness it could hold? But Arthur was too unsteady then. Too unstable to give Yellow the upbringing that he deserved. His nature was shared with John, and we’ve seen the depths of love he’s embraced. Yellow was simply nurtured wrong, encouraged down that spiral by a foster father who embraced and even venerated his rage. And similarly, in the basement in New York, we are reminded of nature and nurture, of animals and babes. Briefly, quick as a glance, we learn of the Butcher’s father, both a seething livewire and a subtle undercurrent in his motivations, manifested, perhaps, in his tumultuous relationship with failure, his self inflicted violence. Roland and Amanda receive less of the spotlight, but the foundations of everything are built upon their relationship. And now, with the Unclean, we know more of Arthur’s own father—who’s fate is known and the same as his mother’s—and his envy towards his friend, his childish jealousy and vindictive actions, of which he now condemns, having learned better, having known better. Every aspect of the narrative is seeped in fatherhood, in parenting, in children. Malam says as much by the fire: “They are our betters, our futures, our learned mistakes.” Malevolent is, at its core, about parents and children and hope.

And now, Arthur and John are on the run from a mother, on a mission given to them by a father, who’s daughter is largely a mystery, or perhaps, more familiar than we might think.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

It’s Tolkien Meta Week, and today is LOTR Day. I’d never really describe any of my own random musings as formal “meta” (and certainly not like the brilliant stuff other people think up!). Nevertheless, I do muse away, and so I’ll just blather it all out here informally. Read below, if you are so inclined, for more of my obsession with incredibly obscure characters and Tolkien’s obsession with forcing Gondorian supremacy on everyone!

We know Tolkien loved to set up really distinct narrative parallels between pairs of Gondorians and Rohirrim (think Denethor/Théoden, Boromir/Théodred, Háma/Beregond) so that the ways that they are both similar and different can teach us specific things about the characters as individuals and about their kingdoms and cultures as a whole. And I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the life experiences of a much older pair — Valacar of Gondor and Thengel of Rohan — and what Tolkien was trying to communicate with the undeniable connections he drew between these two very different characters who were separated by ~ 1,500 years of history.

First, since these are lesser known characters who exist largely in the appendices, let’s start with the basics:

Valacar was the heir to the throne of Gondor when he was sent to live as an ambassador of sorts among the Northmen of Rhovanion (the people who would go on to become the éothéod and then the Rohirrim). He was meant to learn their language, manners and customs, but he did more than that — he fell in love with the culture, married a local woman (a princess of the Northmen named Vidumavi) and had a son, Vinitharya. Eventually, his time in Rhovanion came to an end and he went back to Gondor, where he met almost nothing but grief. A substantial part of the Gondorian ruling class rejected his wife as being of lesser blood than the Númenórean lines of Gondor, and they certainly rejected his half-Northman son, who they did not want as king when his time came. Despite the fact that Valacar and his family showed only loyalty to Gondor and, in fact, tried repeatedly to bend in the direction of the Gondorian hardliners (for example, they changed Vinitharya’s name to Eldacar to make him sound less “foreign” to the Gondorians), those same hardliners staged a coup against Eldacar, killed his own son, and started a civil war that only ended after much death and destruction.

Thengel was the heir to the throne of Rohan when he left to live in Gondor, by implication because he wanted out from under the rule of his father, Fengel, who was described as greedy, difficult, and often at odds with everyone around him. Thengel threw himself into Gondorian life, learning their languages, joining the military, and serving their steward. He also married a local woman, Morwen, with whom he had 5 children, 3 of which were born in Gondor, including his son. When Fengel finally died, Thengel returned to Rohan and took the throne, where he had a successful reign despite the fact that he had been very resistant to the idea of returning and spent the rest of his life still clinging to elements of Gondorian culture (like holding onto Sindarin as the language of his rule rather than using Rohirric as one would expect). Still, he ruled well and passed the throne on seamlessly to his son, Théoden. 

So. BIG SAME on major elements of their stories — a prince of Gondor who went to live in proto-Rohan and a prince of Rohan who went to live in Gondor. They each embraced those foreign lands, married locally and had sons of mixed heritage before returning to their kingdoms to rule and pass on the throne to those sons. But the paths couldn’t be more different once they got home again. Valacar, who left Gondor as part of a duty to his land and returned willingly, had his wife and son met only with discrimination, resistance and eventually full-on insurrection despite repeated attempts to ingratiate themselves with the Gondorians. Thengel, who left Rohan of his own accord and only came back against his will, had his wife and son welcomed and honored by the Rohirrim despite the fact that Thengel himself continued to show some, shall we say, divided loyalty when he was there.

In terms of outcomes, the text of the appendices seems to come down hard on the people who opposed Valacar, Vidumavi and Vinitharya/Eldacar, because their effort backfired spectacularly. The civil war so thoroughly depleted the ranks of the Gondorian nobility that Eldacar, once he’d won the throne back, had to encourage significant immigration from Rhovanion to replenish Gondorian society. Plus, that depletion and the lingering fear of *another* civil war prevented the Gondorians from resolving a thorny succession crisis years later — lacking any heir whose claim to the kingship would be accepted by everyone, the line of kings in Gondor just came to an abrupt end instead. It’s hard to imagine a bigger karmic smackdown than to have your coup, which was meant to protect the alleged sanctity of the Gondorian monarchy from “lesser” influences, instead result in an influx of those “lesser” influences into your society and eventually the total loss of the monarchy itself! 

On the opposite side of the ledger, the Rohirrim were narratively rewarded for their more open minded approach. Thengel proved to be a decent king and gave them the line that produced Théoden (another good king, one small period of manipulation aside) as well as Théodred, Éomer, and Éowyn, all of whom had critical roles to play in the fight against Sauron, the preservation of freedom in Middle Earth and the survival of Rohan as an independent kingdom. All good things!

So this seems like a clear situation where Gondor did wrong and was punished, and Rohan did right and was rewarded. And so the moral of the story would be to Be Like Rohan, at least in this respect. AND YET,  I’m not entirely sure that’s what Tolkien is really saying because the Gondorians don’t actually seem to have learned their lesson. And that’s fine — what are humans if not bad at learning the lessons of history? — except that the meta narrative of LOTR itself seems to agree with them. 

For starters, the carping of the Gondorian hardliners about the tainting of pure Gondorian blood turns out to be true. Introducing “lesser” bloodlines into Gondor *does* eventually shorten their unusually long lifespans, which had always been the sign of the divine favor that was bestowed on them as a people. So the book buys into the notion that there are real and significant differences of quality between the high Men of Gondor and those from other parts of Middle Earth that have nothing to do with their actions and intentions but come only from genetics. That’s a big ick, but the book definitely validates the hardliners’ position.

For that reason, it’s unsurprising, I guess, that the Gondorians are still invested in these ideas of blood purity — they can see the proof of its effects in their own bodies. Yes, they are more accepting of outsiders marrying into the upper echelons of their society by the late Third Age, but I don’t think their embrace of either Éowyn (who has some Gondorian heritage and, anyway, was not marrying the king!) or Arwen (who is from a race that is fetishized as higher and nobler than the others and that has been present in the Gondorian royal line as far back as the very first king of Númenor) can be offered as proof that they would have similarly accepted a queen from a “lesser” community of Men. Indeed, they still explicitly endorse the same beliefs about the inherent inferiority of other humans, with no less than Faramir himself repeating the idea that there is a hierarchy of Men in high, middle and low tiers (with the Rohirrim only qualifying as “middle”) based on their perceived difference from the gold standard of a descendant of Númenor.

I think it’s significant that it’s Faramir who says this, because he is Tolkien’s self-described Author Insert, and he’s also someone who is established as the very pinnacle of wisdom and judgment. If Faramir believes something to be true, we, as readers, are generally meant to believe that it IS true, as pretty much every other thing he says in any other context is proven out by the narrative. So, again, the book is telling us that not all Men are equal in Middle Earth.

So what are we to make of this? If Tolkien truly meant the Valacar/Thengel parallel to be a cautionary tale that would warn against a mindset of looking down on other Men as inherently inferior — and I really don’t know how else you can read it given how sympathetic the text is to Valacar and his family, how catastrophic the kinstrife in Gondor proves to be, and how Thengel shows us what it looks like to handle a similar situation very differently — why does the story still seem to want us to embrace the very same ideas that nearly brought down Valacar’s family and caused untold suffering in Gondor and elsewhere? Why does the introduction of Northmen heritage into the royal line cause its degradation? Why does The Author’s Favored Character still espouse the Gondorian insurrectionists’ rhetoric about lesser Men? Why is it that the whole world can only be saved by the return to Gondor of a king who has that pure “blood of Westernesse” that the Gondorian nobles of Valacar’s day cared so much about? They were wrong to hold Eldacar’s mixed heritage against him and yet it’s also true that the world can only be set right when someone of “pure” heritage like Aragorn is put back in charge? It seems like a mixed message for sure.

Personally, I think Tolkien got trapped by the allure of a particular religious/moral idea, namely that you can earn divine favor through service to god. That might have been a very appealing concept to someone looking at the world through his particular religious lens, but when he allowed that divine favor to pass down through generations such that people were benefitting from it purely through inheritance and not from independent effort, it becomes a real problem. The Gondorians have to be better than everyone else because they come from the Númenóreans, and the Númenóreans have to be better because they come from the houses of the edain that fought alongside the Valar in the war of wrath and received that divine blessing in the form of longer life *for them and their ancestors.* And now you’ve got to square the implications of that with the otherwise obvious truth that no Man is inherently better or more ennobled than another simply because of where/when they’re born. And you really can’t. It forces you to have Men — in the form of the Rohirrim, most notably — who are acting only in good and noble ways but still have to be subordinated to the glory of Gondor for reasons that have fuck all to do with the behavior or intentions of either group. I think Tolkien recognized this problem, which is why the story feints at the idea that Gondor is wrong, but ultimately he couldn’t let it go and the story ends up bearing out their beliefs. And so here I am, all these years later, finding it infuriating!

[pilot-boi]

Pilot, I know you primarily bully Jaune. But would you mind having a go at Papa Arc talking to the Vacuo mural?

Orion Arc is not a hero, even though his son always thought he was. He’s just a man who loves his family and tries his best to do right by them.

So it’s more than a little strange standing there, in front of a mural of his own son’s face. His boy immortalized and honored in ways Orion could never dream of.

His son looks like a stranger.

“Mr. Branwen thought it might help to talk to ya.” Orion’s hand brushes over the palm prints of countless children, all paying their respect to his boy. “Don’t see much point, ain’t gonna bring you back.”

His son watches him, all quiet confidence and bravery. A true warrior, a hero. Where is his brash anxious son who begged to join the Huntsman Academies? How much of his son did he lose when Jaune finally left home? Somewhere along the way his boy grew into a man and he wasn’t there to help him.

“Your uh…” He clears his throat. “Your mother misses you.” And it sounds pathetic even as he says it. Even in front of a facsimile of his son he can’t say what he needs to.

“She was beside herself when you didn’t come back from Haven.” So was he, even more so than his wife. Orion paced the house for days, worry driving him to throw himself into work, into anything that would take his mind off the attack and the fate of his boy. “We were so relieved to hear from Saph about you and your friends.”

His friends. A group of seven that from all accounts Jaune grew closer to than even his sisters. Orion glances up at the others in the mural. Four of which fell alongside his boy, and the other three were left grieving.

Ren, Nora, and Oscar, he remembers them being called. He never thought he’d see his grief echoed in faces so young.

“As soon as we saw the broadcast, your mother was packin’ our bags.” Orion chuckles. “You shoulda seen her, she was fixin’ to march up to the General herself and teach him a lesson. If I ever wondered where you got your fire, I got my answer.”

His face falls, crumpling like paper. “And I triedta douse that fire.” How many times did he tell Jaune it was okay if he failed? How many times did he refuse to train him? How many times did he let his fear guide him to crush his son’s dreams?

“When you walked into the livin’ room with your transcripts in hand sayin’ you were gonna be a Huntsman whether I wanted it or not, why…” His eyes are stinging. If there’s anything his son inherited from him, it’s his tendency for emotions to live near the surface. “Why that was the proudest day of my life.”

He’d never been more proud. Never. His boy standing there with those papers clutched in his fist, and a defiant look on his face. “I won’t let you down.” Jaune had said.

You could never let me down. It’s what he should’ve said. Why didn’t he just say it?

Orion scrubs the heel of his hand into his eyes. It does nothing to stop the flow of tears. “Did I ever once tell ya how proud I am of you?” His voice is cracking and hitching, but if he stops talking now Orion knows he’ll never start again.

“You’re so brave and you don’t quit when things get tough. I saw how hurt you were after the Fall of Beacon, but you just got right back on that horse.” His baby boy, the most caring and most stubborn of all his children. Strapping the family sword back onto his hip because “Somebody has to, dad.”

Letters where it’s clear his boy isn’t saying half the trouble, but he’s saying enough that they know what trouble is. Hearing about the attack on Haven, a week and a half of terror. Saphron sending word that Jaune made it to Argus.

And then nothing. Nothing until the broadcast from Miss Rose.

Packing in a whirlwind, sending the girls to stay with Saphron. Renting the first available airship to Vacuo and contending with his wife’s motion sickness. By the time they got there, they were met halfway by a near armada.

But no Jaune.

Orion’s hand rests on Jaune’s painted cheek. A child’s hand against the larger-than-life hero his boy grew into when he wasn’t there.

Did he ever tell his son how much he loves him?

“Come back to us,” Orion begs, no longer trying to stem the flow of tears. Why bother? His son isn’t here to see them.

[writteninlunarlight-years]

Salutations! Might be a… oddly specific request? So feel free to throw it out if you don't like it! I've just had this idea floating in my brain for awhile and I think its cute.

So basically Lucifer (Hazbin Hotel) makes friends with someone who is also really grief stricken over their last relationship. (I was thinking that they would be a widow/widower but you can go whatever route you want) They both find solace in one another and feel like they understand eachothers pain. They both get really close and before he can realize whats happening, Lucifer is head over heels and it hits him like a freight train when he realizes it. He wants so desperately to hold this person to his chest, protect them, and build a future together that neither of them had thought possible before; but he is also terrified of scaring them off if he does anything. Both of them are wounded, and Lucifer isnt sure how deep or raw those wounds are. So Lucifer just ends up turning into a puddle of a man when they are around.

Like I said, Ive just had this rotting in my head for awhile and I am not nearly skilled enough to do anything with it, sooooo have fun with it if it peaks your interest! <3

Broken Hearts Still Beat Again

"I may not be your first love, kiss, or date..... but damn baby, I want to be your last everything." -Unknown

Tw: Angst, Hurt-Comfort, Failed relationships, fear of abandonment, learning to love again, taking risks, slight spiciness at the end

~Prior to the beginnings of the Extermination~

You can't remember how long it's been since it happened. Years, months, and days are far too long, honestly. All you could remember was his face, his sad, sad, lonesome face, and the grinning menace Adam beside him. Yes, that's right, Adam, the first Winner. You, too, were a Winner till all that time ago. How long?

Your husband, best friend, and closest confidant was also a Winner. You were Winners together. You two died in your sleep peacefully due to a shared illness. It was sweet, almost too romantic like St. Peter said when you two crossed the gates. 

Then it happened; you don't know why Adam sank his teeth into you. Yes, you were an incredible fighter in the mortal world, teaching children how to fight for their safety and never to provoke. So when he came to you and invited you to the exorcist guild, well, you were happy to train young fighters to protect themselves. Your partner was even happier to watch you flourish in Heaven as much as you did in your mortal life. 

Then you overheard Lute talking to an exorcist one day. You heard about the extermination of the poor souls, the damned being killed again and again. This news broke you. Who would remotely allow this? Who would stoop so low?

You called an impromptu meeting with Sara and Adam to inform them of this horrible act Lute was performing. The tyranny she was showing against the other angels to go down to Lucifer's territory and kill again.

Only things didn't go as planned, no see you did go to the meeting; you spoke your peace, and then they just smiled at you, eery creepy smiles, sent you on your way, and told you it would be handled. It was all quite odd; there was no demand for a trial, no need for proof of your words, nothing.

When you returned to your home where your husband was, it happened all too fast. Exorcists were grabbing you; Adam was telling your husband something; his face dropped, and he looked at you with hate. You were shouting, begging, pleading for anyone to listen to you. No one would, and you were flagged as a traitor right then and there.

You were taken to a ledge, and standing there, you looked into your husband's eyes, tears staining your face, your throat raw from screaming. You could feel the saliva strands between your parted lips as you whimpered and cried. You freed your arm from one of the exorcists and reached out to your husband; it was too late as he turned from you.

He spared one last look at you, turning back with tears in his eyes. You called out his name once again, and Sara spoke her orders of your treason against the balance of good and evil. Then, you were pushed off the ledge. 

You began to fall from heaven, assuming a more permanent death would be treating you soon. You closed your eyes; you didn't want your last memories to be death or Adam or any of what just happened.

You thought of your lover when you two were young and carefree the day he told you he loved you. As you felt the rushing of wind and air surrounding you, this thought alone was your solace, and then it all went black.....

~~~~ Lucifer's Pov ~~~~

The day that Lilith left was a cold, cold day in hell. Well, not for everyone, but definitely me.

The woman I gave everything up for was gone in an instant. Without a word. Without a trace. My relationship with Charlie was far more strained and hindered now. I was nothing now. A kingdom all to my own and nothing of value now that the two women I loved the most were gone. What was I to do in this lone castle whither away? 

I turned to the picture of Lilith and Charlie, and tears formed in my eyes. It all felt too surreal to much. She was gone, my family gone, my life gone, all gone gone gone. As I sat there and cried, fists beating into the floor below, my wails echoing through the halls of my now abandoned residence, I felt so empty.

That's when an imp came in, holding a letter from the angels above. It was time to sign our agreement on the executions. Maybe that's why Lilith left; I was so willing to save our family that I gave up on our dreams for hell. 

I should have spoken to her and let her decide, but they threatened Charlie, so I had to act. I had to save my precious daughter, my pride and joy. That's also why I had to tell Charlie that her plan to 'save all sinners' needed to end. I remember it like yesterday, sitting at the table with them, breaking the news of the agreement I would sign soon. They looked so hurt, so betrayed.

I honestly was a failure. 

I stood, heading to the bathroom to clean up before my meeting. Soon after my name is signed on the soul pact, the first and only angelic building will grace hell, and the clock will start counting down. I was prepared for my subjects to hate me, but my family, it was all too much.

There was nothing to lose now, though, so hell with it. I made my way to the opening portal to heaven. It's now or never. I will sign this and keep the ones I love safe, even if they never know.

I love you, Lilith, I love you, Charlie. 

~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~

When you woke back up under a dark red sky, you figured you had to have fainted while falling to your death. Yet when you looked down at yourself, you were the same old you. The only notable difference was that your skin was no longer pure white. You had greyed out some, and your clothing was torn from your fall. Looking around, you saw a giant pentagram in the sky and a large white orb to the right. Was that heaven?

Standing on your legs again, your back was killing you. You began to walk anywhere; people here were very different from the Winners. Death, porn, canabalizim, all of it fully welcomed. This would take some getting used to. 

As you crossed the threshold of the city, now standing in the middle, you heard a horrible noise. It sounded like a bell, but it was so loud. You turned to your left, where the noise was coming from, and there was a clock and some numbers; just above the numbers, it read 'days till execution.' that's when you realized it.

A building, the only building that looked like what you are familiar with in heaven. You were shocked it wasn't Lute causing tyranny. It was all of them, every single one of them, in charge. 

You sank to your knees, realizing you would never be safe. You signed your sentence when you went to them with the information you learned. You were no longer a Winner...You were a Sinner, and your days were numbered.

You had something over everyone else; you knew how the angels fought and trained them daily. Using this knowledge to your advantage, you went through the town, trying to find anywhere you could start your new life. 

~~~ FLASH FORWARD 7 YEARS ~~~

You were lucky when you ran into Charlie. She was a godsend if god was even real. The Princess of Hell had the same morals and values as you, which you respected. Vaggie was also a pleasant surprise; you could tell a soldier you taught a mile away.

She remembered you as well. She kept to herself till you three made it to a safe place, Charleis's soon-to-be hotel. Once Charlie was out of earshot and working on getting supplies to heal everyone, she confronted you. 

Tears welled in her eyes when she asked what had happened. She was in shock when you explained how you ended up here. According to Vaggie, everyone was told that you died on a mission to hell.

The Sinners alerted Lucifer of your whereabouts, and he killed you; thus, in doing so, a protective force of angels was created. Fearmongering was the one thing Adam was damn good at. 

It was broken to you by Vaggie that your partner had moved on with another. He was in love and happy with another woman, one Adam hand-picked for him. You were devastated again; years of promises, lost nights, and romantic meetings disappeared. He gave up everything because Adam told him to.

You two agreed that your past lives in Heaven would no longer be discussed that night.

Crying your eyes out long after Vaggie returned to her shared room with Charlie, did you swear off love by taking your wedding band off and locking it in a drawer.

It was no longer a hidden fact that Lucifer had signed the deal with the Angels, and it was far less hidden knowledge that the relationship between King and Princess was strained.

The rag-tag group of residents was growing by the day. Angel Dust was fun, and you could quickly tell from how he talked and looked he wanted a way out. Soon after Charlie's broadcast, Alastor and his group, Husk and Nifty, joined the hotel's crew. Though the Radio Demon was creepy, you knew something was eating him deep inside. Nifty was a riot to get talking to and always brought you exciting things she found while cleaning. Husk was a perfect bartender, and you knew he would keep your dirty secrets for you. He was the only one you confided your past in. 

You supported Charlie wholeheartedly in her decision to overrule the exterminations. You were eager to help her prove that sinners could become winners. Look at you, for heaven's sake; if it could go one way, it had to go the other.

Sir Pentious was the last to join and was easy to talk to. He was awkward, but you loved his fabricated war stories and eggbois. Then, one day, he came along; you won't lie.

You were hesitant. I mean, he signed away Hell's right to life. You couldn't deny it, though; he was funny and ethereal. You swore off love, though, and you wouldn't let another break your heart again.

~~~~ Lucifer's POV ~~~~

When I got Charlie's call, I didn’t know what emotions to feel: sorrow, excitement, fear, jubilation. I was beyond myself, and as I finally answered the phone, all I could muster was, “Hey, Biiiiitch.”

Yeah, it was smooth of me to say that; however, it didn’t deter Charlie. She wanted me to come and visit her. I was over the moon; depression had nothing on me.

I looked at my hand as I was cleaning myself up and getting ready to go. Looking down and seeing that cursed band I once shared with the love of my life.

I found Lilith's ring left on her nightstand just days after her departure to who knows where. I couldn’t bring myself to take the ring off; it's all I had left of her; it reminds me to keep hoping she would forgive me; maybe I'll forgive myself. 

As I made my way to Charlie's hotel, thoughts pressed into my mind about how I wanted this reunion to go. It never occurred to me how much Charlie may have changed. Was she still the same woman I knew before we fought?

Sighing as I approached the door, I realized it was now or never. Let's do this, baby. What's the worst that could happen? She hates me and leaves me forever like her mother did, and now I am forever alone? Hahahahah NO!

I entered the hotel door, and jeez, what is this place?

Putting a smile on my face, I approached Charlie and hugged her, introducing myself to her girlfriend. Woah, I like girls, too. See, we can bond. As I was making my rounds with Charlie, meeting everyone, I saw her….She was….gorgeous. I could tell from her looks that she wasn’t an everyday Sinner, and something was different about her. 

After a brief and, might I say, victorious battle with this ‘Alastor’ fellow, I spent some time with my daughter, allowing her to show me around her hotel. As we stood atop the balcony, I made the first fatal error of the night. “So, CharChar, what is this all about?” 

Charlie rolled her eyes at me and excitedly smiled, “It’s a hotel to cleanse and rehabilitate Sinners! I told you this, Dad!” The excitement on her face was genuinely adorable, but she couldn’t do it. I couldn’t allow this. The elder angels would just hurt her like they did me. They already threatened my family once; I can’t let them do this again.

I knew by the look on Charlie's face that my reaction wasn’t what she was expecting. As I went to speak to her, a loud explosion was heard downstairs. 

We rushed down, and I saw an opportunity to prove to Charlie why we couldn’t follow this plan. As I ran forward to catch up with the others, I saw the mystery woman again. She was fighting alongside Alastor and his demons perfectly; she was beautiful and brilliant in battle, always expecting the next attack.

Once the sharks were dealt with and the young lady who seemed to know Alastor left, I turned back to Charlie and attempted to plead my case. “See Charlie, look, they are all the same; Sinners will never be redeemed; they will never go to heaven.” 

“You don’t know that, Dad, please.” The look on Charlie's face broke me, but this had to be done. I couldn’t let her get hurt. 

“What makes you so sure, Mr. King of Hell, that these people here can’t be redeemed?” This voice was new and soft.

I turned to the mystery girl. Her eyes were lit with a flame. I could see how much passion she had for my daughter's cause. As I went to speak back, Charlie interjected. 

“Father, I only want to do this for you, for my people. Your dreams are what gave me this goal.” I was taken aback. I was Charlie's prime motivation; my stories and goals helped her become this remarkable woman. 

“Your daughter is twice the ruler of you; she's willing to save her people; what are you willing to do?” The mystery woman had a point. I was a coward, too prideful of what I had to allow it to fall potentially. I looked at Charlie, and a moment formed between us. 

“Alright, let’s get Heaven on the line then.” I knew it was time to face my fear to help the people I pleaded for all those years ago. I may not be able to stand my ground due to the contract, but damn can my daughter and her friends do it. 

While Charlie started getting ready for her meeting, I was a nervous wreck. What if something happened to her? I knew the cruel hands that played in heaven and what could be done.

As I was pacing back and forth in the lobby, a figure stood before me, a drink in hand, and the other extended a glass to me. I looked up, and it was her; she was still just as beautiful as the first time I saw her. I gently took the glass and downed the concoction in it. “Thank you, uh, my name is Lucifer Morningstar, affamed fallen angel and father of Charlie.” 

“I know; I was here when everything went down.” She looked at me blankly. Of course, she was here. Jesus, could I be any lamer?

She snorted at my facial expression and stuck her hand out for me. “My name is Y/N; nice meeting you, Mr. King of Hell; it’s a pleasure. By the way, I only said all that because I knew it would strike a nerve in you. I learned from my past anyone prideful hates when their authority is challenged.” 

In her past, odd, there weren’t a lot of demons here who A would let someone challenge their authority and live, so she must be powerful, or B, she is speaking of her mortal life. However, something about both of those options did not seem quite right.

I nodded gently at her and sat at the bar. She soon tended to the others in the hotel, and I began to observe her. She acted like a mother, telling the others what to and not to do double-checking the other inhabitants of the hotel before they left the building.

Hell, she even talked to Alastor on some sort of equal ground. Something was different about her, so so different. I looked at my hand again while I took another swig of my refilled glass. Setting the glass down, I started to twirl the ring. Would Lilith have been this good to everyone? Would Lilith have even cared? 

I sighed; if I wanted to help Charlie, I had to let go of the past. I took the ring off, dropped it in the liquor, and went to the front door. As I reached for the handle, I was stopped by a soft hand on my wrist.

Turning, I saw Y/N, “Hey, one second, mister, you forgot this.” She placed the ring down in the palm of my hand. “I have been scorned by love too. Don’t get me wrong, I also took off my band long ago. However, I can say that though their memory is tainted now, you should enjoy the memories of good when you can. Helps keep the bad thoughts away.” She smiled up at me so brightly I couldn’t help but smile back. 

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it. Do say you seem like a swell mother figure to all these people here. Why tie yourself to this place if you don’t want redemption? I remember what you said earlier, ‘All these people’, excluding yourself.” She stalled, hesitating about how she wanted to answer.

I just shook my head and smiled at her. I began to walk away back to my home. As I made my way back I heard Y/N shout, “COME BACK SOON LUCIFER!” For some reason, I really liked how my name sounded from her. 

~~~~~ Reader POV ~~~~~

You were sat at the hotel by yourself, Angel, and the others all went to a club while Charlie and Vaggie went to Heaven. You had time to think about the most recent occurrence in your life: Lucifer.

It was a whirlwind that day meeting him. So many emotions overtook you: fear, anger, an odd sense of curiosity. You couldn’t lie. He was attractive, and the way he was protective of Charlie was adorable. You never got to have children; your ex-husband never wanted them.

You don’t know what possessed you to speak to Lucifer like you did, telling him he was a lowly king. You used the excuse that you had done it to others in your past, which was valid; you and Adam argued a lot. Deep down, you knew, though, that's not why you did it. You wanted to protect Charlie and her dream. 

Sighing, you made your way around the building, ensuring the halls were clean and everything was orderly. You still weren't fond of all the allowed things here in hell, so going out with everyone was a once-in-a-blue moon.

It struck you as amusing when Lucifer commented on you being a mother figure because that is how everyone saw you. Hell, even Alastor commented one or two times that you reminded him of his angel of a mother. You just wanted the best for everyone; it wasn’t fair to die and then be killed again. 

You heard the lobby door open once you were done doing your rounds. Odd, typically, everyone stayed out way late, and the girls weren't expected back till tomorrow.

As you descended the stairs, you saw none other but the man plaguing your mind: Lucifer. Smiling softly, you met him at the base of the stairs, giving him a short wave. He smiled at you and announced that he figured everyone would be gone today and was going to help out Charlie. You snorted at him and explained how you stayed back to help but were more than pleased to allow him to keep you company. He took refuge at the bar, and you soon joined him.

You two talked for hours about so many things, from his life as an angel to your old mortal life. You guys even talked about the differences between Heaven and Hell. Hopefully, you weren't giving your old station away to him, but a part of you didn’t care.

By the time you two got to the dreaded conversation about relationships, you were inebriated. You recounted your betrayal to Lucifer, holding nothing back. From your teenage years with your ex till the day he turned from you while Adam pushed you. Lucifer looked so heartbroken for you.

He gently pushed some hair out of your face when he said, “I am so sorry that happened to you, Y/N. I knew something was different about you, so you too fell from that dreaded cliff like I.” You nodded sadly. 

Lucfier explained why he made his decisions and how Charlie's life was threatened if he didn’t end Lilith’s music and allow the Exorcist to come down. He told you something interesting about the clause of the agreement: No Hell Born Could Be Harmed In The Extermination Less The Binding Be Null And Void.

This was amusing to you; even after singing his people away for slaughter, he was still concerned the angels would trick him and harm his child. He was always thinking about those he loved. It was endearing.

How could someone leave such a handsome, kind, protective man? The thought even crossed your mind that Lucifer would have fallen with you if he had been your husband instead of letting Adam take the lead.

As these thoughts crossed your mind, you didn’t realize how close your two faces were getting. Before you knew it, your lips were touching Lucifers gently. Seconds passed, and his hands were buried in your hair, kissing you with a passion you never got from your ex. 

As you two broke apart, the doors to the hotel opened again. Angel came running over to you, noticing your state of drunkenness. He apologized to Lucifer, stating you never really drank much and took you to your room.

You smiled softly as Lucifer said a quick ‘goodbye’ and ‘good night’ to you before drifting off to sleep. Your dreams that night were full of Lucifer, his beauty, charisma, and devotion eating you alive. You may have sworn off love, but for him to love you how he once loved Lilith would be beautiful. 

~~~~~ TIME SKIP ~~~~~

Months had passed since your night with Lucifer, and a whole war between you at the hotel and the angels broke out. Everyone learned of your past in Heaven from Adam before he perished.

You felt free, no longer chained to the past that harmed you. Now you had something more to look forward to. Though you and Lucifer never spoke of that night again, you held the memory close. He loved Lilith a lot, and especially Charlie; for all you knew, when he kissed you that night, he was just imagining Lilith once more. It hurts to think that, but you must be true to yourself. 

After Adam's carnage, it was awkward for you and Lucifer. You two avoided eye contact and only spoke when you had to. However, as time passed and you both pretended the night alone never happened, things changed.

You and Lucifer did become fast friends, though. Having shared a fall from heaven, deep heart break, and even more so a hotel together it was hard not too. It was hard ever to see you two separated from one another. Laughing, joking, talking, and even debating over effective ways to pull in more Sinners.

You two became more affectionate as well, his hand on the small of your back, him guiding you by his arm, or even you adjusting his cravat and making him his favorite teas. To onlookers, it seemed like you two were married. 

It was so compelling that you two were married that even Charlie told you she would be fine if you loved her dad.

Love…That's such a strong word. Is that what you felt? You can’t lie. You fantasize about it. You were scared, though. What if he let you down like your ex did? Can you handle being a mom to Charlie, not just a figure, a real mom taking the spot Lilith left? That was a worry, too; what about Lilith if she returned? Would he go back to her?

Would you be left so suddenly again? 

While your mind raced, you mindlessly swept the corner of your room, thinking deeply about this debacle. When suddenly, your door bursts open. 

~~~~~ Lucifer’s POV ~~~~~

I was ecstatic after my night with Y/N. She was excellent, calm, cunning, and articulate. She also knew my pain of the angels turning on you. The kiss meant so much to me. I was finally feeling things I hadn’t felt before Lilith left.

Lilith….was I ready to move on? Could I move on?

When I closed my eyes that night, I saw both old memories of Lilith and the times we had, but also new visions of Y/N and all we could be. She was terrific; if only I could get to know her more and see how she felt. She also stated she swore off love, too.

Would I be included? 

When the day came for the extermination, I couldn’t bear to turn on the news; I didn’t want to see Charlie's dreams get crushed. I sat and waited, staring at the clock. As soon as the chaos broke out, I was up and pacing.

It wasn’t just Charlie; I was worried about Y/N being there too. Yes, she was a fighter and trained those Angels, but what if the worst happened? What if you died protecting Charlie?

That's one thing he loved: how motherly you were for his daughter. Not that Lilith never was, but it was clear to him that no matter how hard life got, you would stand by those you loved side.

Why couldn’t Lilith have done that for them? 

That was when I felt the tug, a complex, sudden pull. Half of the signed agreement shriveled; that only meant one thing.

I ran as fast as I could to the hotel; once I saw the carnage, I flew to protect Charlie. It was Adam, the man who turned the heavens against me, who turned heaven against you. Years of pent-up rage and a new passion for protecting Y/N overtook me as Charlie and I took down the angels.

Once the battle felt calm, everyone began looking for you and Alastor. Honestly, I could care less about the Radio Demon. He gave me bad vibes, but you were missing. You went in to save Vaggie from Lute; however, no one saw you anywhere when the building collapsed. 

Shouting, digging through rubble, I heard Charlie yell out that she had found you. Sighing now that I knew you were alive and only minorly injured, we cleaned up.

With a bit of magic and a whap bam boom, we had a new Hazbin Hotel, oh and Alastor returned. I wanted to discuss your past with you about a potential us, but I couldn’t. You looked so happy now that the chains of your past were broken. 

The next couple of months were odd, for sure. I couldn't stand to look Y/N in the eyes, and though I yearned for her, I couldn't bear the weight of rejection again.

I tried, though, to show her how much I wanted her in subtle ways. What was a once-stolen night became a close friendship. I could tell her anything and everything. She was like a breath of fresh air; she never denied any of the ideas Charlie or I had, instead helping make them better. With her and I’s past with heaven, we knew how to overcome the obstacles they would throw. 

Before I knew it, I craved her touch and comfort, and she gave it to me. Small lingering touches of hands, hugs that lasted too long, small gifts and favors never asked for. I was falling and falling hard. She was everything I could want. I loved Y/N.

Oh god, I loved Y/N. I was a wreck seeking counsel from the only other person who knew me best, Charlie. She was so happy, begging me to confess and tell Y/N how I felt. Could I, though? Would she accept me? Could she take the new title of Queen of Hell? 

As I lay in bed pondering the conversation Charlie and I had, thinking of the new memories I had made with Y/N, I was stuck. Confess and have a happy new life, or confess, and she leaves me, too. You weren't one to go, though I knew that. What if, though, you weren't ready?

I closed my eyes and let my mind wander; I saw Y/N in a beautiful dress at our wedding, Y/N giving me another child, and Y/N fighting alongside Charlie and me. That’s it; I can’t hold back any longer.

I dressed myself in my robe and marched my way to your door. I began to knock, but I heard nothing in the room. Sighing because I knew Y/N had to be in here, I busted the door open, and there you were, staring off into space so cutely.

Shit.

~~~~~ Readers POV ~~~~~

The noise startled you from your thoughts. There before you stood Lucifer in his robes. Smirking, You turned away from the man and laughed gently into your hand. “What are you doing here, goober? It's the middle of the night, and you are very underdressed.”

No questions were answered, though, as Lucifer approached you; he stood there staring you in the eyes. You didn’t know what this look meant, but it was intense. Had you offended him? 

As you went to speak again, Lucifer placed one of his hands on your cheek, cupping your face. You looked at his hand and back up at him; you were breathing too fast. As you two looked at one another, no words were uttered; slowly, Lucifer placed his other hand on your waist.

You laid claim to his chest with your hands gently splayed there. Something in his eyes begged you to be closer and not push him away. How could you? He was holding you in a way that you had only dreamed of. 

Lucfier moved closer to your face, your lips mere inches apart when he spoke, “Y/N, I love you. No, that doesn’t even begin to describe my feelings. I am fascinated, lust-filled, and desire you and you alone. I want forever to be with you, a time I only thought possible with one person who never intended to fill that role. A forever purely our own with our family. A future dedicated to following dreams and passion. Following our love. Will you stay with me, Y/N? Please stay with me.” 

You were speechless, your mouth slightly agape, and you didn’t know how to process such emotions. You were overwhelmed and so excited. You knew if you took any longer to confirm or deny him he would leave and never speak of this, just like the kiss before.

You did the only thing you thought you could at that moment. You wrapped your arms around his neck and closed the gap. Kissing Lucifer this time felt just as good, if not better, than the last. Your hands tied in his hair, holding him close. His hands are keeping you in place, his kiss fierce and dominating. Before you knew it, he had his hands just under the cusp of your ass, prompting you to jump. As you did, you never broke the kiss. 

Lucifer leads you to the nearest wall, kissing your lips and neck. This was everything you dreamed of, everything you wanted. Each kiss was a contract that you two would never hurt the other as your partners did.

You felt alive, like electricity was coursing through your veins. Every kiss made a new pattern in your heart, soon beating in time with Lucifers. The heated kisses died down and turned into soft, light ones. Placing your feet back on the ground, you hugged Lucifer close, his head buried in your neck and yours in his. 

You smiled a large smile before whispering, “I will always stay by your side, Lucifer. You and Charlie are my reason, my purpose now.” You could feel his smile next to your ear without ever having to open his mouth.

You were so happy.

You two heard a shutter sound as you pulled away, and a bright flash erupted behind Lucifer. As you turned to the door, everyone stood there: Charlie was happy and clapping, Vaggie was giving a thumbs up, Alastor was holding the camera, Nifty was making gagging sounds, and Angel was smirking. You laughed wholeheartedly; who knew a broken heart would beat again?

My good friend @willowaudreykeyes helped me with the editing a bit! I appreciate the effort and time they put into assisting me. Even though we live halfway across the world from one another, you have my back!

[zarnzarn]

Part four (+FOUR ASKS FUCK YEAH) of the reverse odyssey au! all tagged on the blog.

1/2/3/4

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Penelope takes a shaky breath and waves off the maid trying to light one of the lamps. The maid bows nervously and leaves the room, bumping into the fake door with a squeak before running off.

Must be new. Who's hiring them, though?

A rustling noise next to her pulls her attention away and she turns to watch Polites nod gravely to her and then sink down at her feet, petting Argos. If she'd had energy, she'd raise an eyebrow, but all she can think of is how Odysseus would have teasingly asked her why she wasn't chiding Polites for looking so unkempt and miserable with his wooden leg unpolished and crutches uncared for, in his roundabout, carefree way of being worried. Already Eurylochus had run himself into the ground and taken so ill he could barely speak. She'd have to keep a careful eye on them both.

In her most secret, private moments, Penelope remembers Anticlea's muttered words about Athena teaching Odysseus her emotional repression along with the battle strategies, and has to tamp down on a smile desperately in case an owl is nearby.

Although, on the topic of Athena.

Penelope looks out at the sea, grimacing at the green algae now covering the waters. It was poisoning the fish, that much was for sure, making them float to the surface in droves of corpses, a clear insult to the water god- and only Athena with her cunning would be able to cause such widespread damage.

On one hand, it was glorious to see how much the goddess loved her husband, no matter if her infamous pride was probably the larger reason why she had poisoned the oceans so. It was still in part for Odysseus' curse that the waters now found themselves under a brutal, uncaring attack, becoming more filthy by the day, and something in Penelope's chest that was still a nymph despite all her effort to rid herself of it purred in satisfaction.

On the other hand. How long till they ran out of fish?

Queen Anticlea, bless Hestia, was the descendant of a farmer, and had spent much of her time as queen overseeing the grain of their kingdom and bullying them all into establishing good agriculture- but the rains had been bleak and old Leartes had not remembered to barter for a freshwater supply this year, so they ran the chance of running slim, especially with six hundred men now returned.

The heavy doors creak open and Penelope comes back to herself. A problem for later.

"Good evening, everyone!" A voice calls from beyond, nasal and cheerful, and they all rise.

Ctimene is a tall woman, thin and sleek, with a chiton bare of patterns but made of the finest cloth. What comes to mind since the day Penelope first laid eyes on her is sharp, from her hairstyle to her amber eyes, someone who wears a smile as warm as her brother's but doesn't expect you to believe in it like he does- doesn't need you to, because she's going to get her way regardless.

She'd left Ithaka a few months after Penelope arrived, coming home sporadically from where Penelope assumes she's been happily terrorizing Same, but she remembers how her husband's sister is.

That she and Odysseus did not kill each other in the womb itself is something of a minor miracle, is the general consensus amongst everyone.

"Princess Ctimene," Penelope says, bowing.

"Queen is what your missive said," She replies before Penelope can speak further. Her eyes narrow and Penelope carefully shows no sign of her impending headache- Hermes' eyes are not to be looked upon, and his children share his preference- and holds the gaze calmly. Ctimene throws her hair over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "So, did my idiot brother finally run out of luck?"

Penelope blinks and- actually looks. Ctimene is a stone tower, but Penelope can suddenly see the cracks- a trembling lip, the flash of agonized grief in her eyes, fingernails clenched into her own palm.

"No!" She blurts out, stumbling down the stairs to take her hand. "No, he's not- he is not lost to us, sister, I should have written that before."

"What does that mean?" Ctimene's eyes narrow, as she pulls herself up, emotion hidden once again. "Speak plainly, Pen."

Pen hits her straight in the chest, stealing her breath from her for a moment. It has been so long since her Helen and Clymenestra and Iphitimene have called her that, and for Ctimene to do so so easily, even though they barely know each other-

She takes in a shaky breath and holds herself back high. "Poseidon has- cursed Odysseus, for blinding his son instead of killing him. His men were allowed to return in exchange, but he swims the seas as a strange creature now, with the tail of a fish, unable to speak to us; we spent the last year on the seas, looking for him, but were taken away by bad luck and bad timing just as we reached him and-"

"What are you talking about?" Ctimene interrupts incredulous, unfolding her arms to finally let her body language show. "What? Poseidon? How in Gaia's name did that fool- I thought he was being held hostage by Troy or something! Cursed?"

Penelope tries not to let her resolve waver. Ten years of only letters and missives have taken their toll, as much as she was spitefully determined to not let them; to have to deal with the injustice now that the war was not yet over for her, that there was still a fight left before she had her husband in her arms again, her darling, trickster husband who she spent every morning missing, every moment she was alone aching for-

Her husband, who had been at her fingertips, who had looked at her for that one brief moment with recognition and joy so bright and loving and a smile so wide at her presence that her final image of him now was blurred because of her tears-

Her husband, who had been swept away. Whom she had failed.

"Yes," She replies. "But during our search- we were blessed... by the presence of Lady Athena herself."

"Let me guess," Ctimene interrupts, lips quirking in amusement. The men around her frown and look at each other with disbelief as she has no reaction to the news, as if gods appeared to mortals as often as the goats bleated. "She lectured you all for running off without a plan and dragged you back like disobedient children."

Penelope's mouth opens and closes, with no idea what to say. She feels her aunt's paranoia about the wrath of the gods grip her and she has to actively fight the urge to shake this woman and tell her to keep her mouth shut, but- was that not... technically what had happened?

"I would not put it that way," She manages, hoping that no one is around to hear. "Athena's counsel is unparalleled-"

"Do not bother," Athena says next to her, and several people shout and fall to the floor, trembling. Penelope herself feels her heart drop to the ground in fear. "You might convince a mountain to move aside, before you get this insolent woman to show some respect to me. Hello, Ctimene."

"Hi, Athena," Ctimene straightens up, hands behind her back as she grins, suddenly looking much more younger and childish. "Where have you been? You haven't come to meet me in ages!"

"On the battlefields of Troy," Athena says dryly. By someone's grace, she is not yet angry; although from the pieces Penelope is putting together, her husband's mentorship seems to be much less hands-off than she'd assumed it was; and she can describe Odysseus as many things but significantly not someone you can spend a lot of time with without having a high tolerance to annoyance.

That would give Ctimene some leeway with her casualness, but she really needed to stop talking before Athena grew cross with them as well-

Ctimene pouts, moving closer. "That's no excuse," She insists, giving half the people in the room so much stress that Penelope thinks they'll keel over in a faint, and the other half some new resignation to dying violently. "I want your wisdom too!"

Athena- laughs?

"When will you ever change, weasel?" She says, lips twisted in amusement.

"Never," Ctimene says, warmer than Penelope's ever heard her, before straightening up and tilting her chin up. "So. You want me to take the throne."

"Yes." Penelope steps in, heart pounding nervously. Talking in front of Athena with a clear mind was wracking, but Ctimene's familiarity gives her confidence enough to step in. She knows politics. She had ruled Ithaka for ten years. She is a princess of Sparta and the best statesperson of her lands, and she must believe in herself for others to believe in her. "I have written up a contract-"

"None is needed," Ctimene interrupts, waving a hand dismissively. Penelope is stunned silent for a moment, letting the other woman turn away to comment on the worn curtains- then her blood boils. This- This absolute-

It takes every inch of her will to calm herself down and not show any sign of her anger in front of all the people looking on. It is a skill honed well from arguing her father and uncle in court, but in front of Athena it feels scorchingly worse, unbelievable mortification.

"May I ask why?" Penelope says, voice cold.

Ctimene turns in surprise, eyes flicking to the side and back. "I do not contract with family," She says, voice slightly smaller, and all the anger goes rushing back out of Penelope, leaving both embarassment and relief in its wake. "I have no designs to the throne of Ithaka, after all. But if you want, I could."

"Please," Penelope inclines her head, walking forward to place the scroll in her hand. "And in the future, do remember that while dealing with any of the Spartan family, at least, there is no love lost between blood. Contracts are needed in every aspect of politics."

Ctimene nods, and Penelope turns away to bow in front of Athena while her courage lasts. "Goddess of Wisdom, patron of Ithaka," She pitches her voice respectably. "May I inquire about a matter, if I might recieve your blessings to do so?"

"Granted."

"Our people rely on fish," She says simply. Does not look up to see if Athena is angry, about to fly into a rage and curse her for her insolence. "I would greatly be thankful if you would let me know if we require to trade for supplies from the mainland this year."

Athena is silent for a long moment. Penelope's heart pounds. Then- "It will last a month more. Do not eat seafood till then."

Her breath escapes her. "Thank you, Pallas Athena."

She turns back to the men, lifting her chin. "We will stay in for the rains and resume our search next summer, giving Odysseus time to return to the sea. When we sail, Ctimene will be crowned queen, and rule with her husband until we return. But the men who had come with us the first time will be all replaced by a new cohort."

She silences their loud protests with a raised hand, trying not to waver in the face of their betrayed looks and devastation. "No," She says firmly. "Odysseus sacrificed himself for all of you to return home, to make new lives safe and happy; not spend time chasing him down on the high seas endlessly. Honor his choice. We will have rotations every season, barring the storms. Choose amongst the remaining men who will be coming by next harvest."

Polites looks at her as the men are dismissed, filing out of the main hall muttering desolately. "I will not be leaving, Penelope."

Her lips quirk. It might be the first time he's called her by name. "Wouldn't expect any different." She's incredibly aware that this is uncharted territory, her first actual order as Queen of Ithaka. Ten years she had learnt the politics, but it had been under Anticlea and Laertes, with an end date she could look forward to. Now she is no longer a replacement sovereign, no longer has a husband sailing back to lighten her load.

Queen of Ithaka. How ironic, that of the three jewels, of all her sisters, she was the only one to achieve their dream of being able to rule alone and visible- yet it meant was that she would never be happy.

She turns back to Ctimene and Athena, who are both staring at her with the same unreadable expression.

Discomfort rushes through her- had she said the wrong thing somewhere?- but she pushes it aside to bow again. "How is Eurylochus?"

Ctimene smiles, and something genuine breaks through. "Better. Did you know he was not eating, though?"

Penelope starts at the sudden accusation, shocked. Feels anger rise at Eurylochus' idiocy, putting her at odds with her sister-in-law because of his own stupidity. "No, I did not," She said evenly. "Rations were distributed equally."

"But you must have known!" Ctimene snaps. "How-"

Athena places a hand on her shoulder. "Screaming helps no one."

Ctimene jerks her head to the side, cheeks burning. Penelope opens her mouth to say something, but the other suddenly rushes past, skirts billowing. "I have to go. Let us meet in the evening, Penelope."

"Alright," Penelope says, and when she turns back Athena has disappeared as well.

She takes a long breath, shoulders slumping as the doors bang closed. Then looks beside her and squints. "You better be eating. I don't want to hear nonsense about fainting and wasting away from you, understand?"

Polites snorts and gets to his feet. "Yes, your grace."

She groans, putting her head in her hands, exhausted. "Why did he have to not eat? Now Ctimene blames me and will fight me on everything as recompense. How was I supposed to even know!"

Polites sighs, and she remembers with a start that he is Eurylochus' best friend as well. "You must understand, Penelope." He says quietly, with all the sorrow that she knew he'd been pushing aside for a brave face with the men, their unending optimism made person. Some days, even she couldn't tell whether he was acting or not. "That the reason we got into this mess at all was because of the two of us."

Penelope frowns. "I'm sure that's not-"

"It was on Eurylochus' behest that we stopped for food. It was on my insistence that we trusted the Lotus people. Odysseus would still be here if it wasn't for the two of us, pushing him to make decisions on behalf of all of us, then standing back while he took all the punishment for it."

"That is what ruling is-!" Penelope exclaims, but is cut off again.

"It was still our fault!" He bursts out, voice cracking. "Do you know, not one second-in-command survived the Trojan war? That the war only stretched as long as it did because Odysseus was the only strategist determined to not let even one of his men be a casualty? I myself saw three soldiers throw themselves in front of fatal blows for Patroclus, I saw Diomedes' general get shot down after he forced his king to stay back while they inspected a rumor about a crack in the wall- man after man died for their rulers, and us? All six hundred, whole and hearty, returned miraculously to our families, our home; while our brother and friend-" His face twists up. "-our ruler who made it possible is lost to us. Ten years of his love and care and jokes made us lose sight of the fact that he was still our King, not just our captain. We should have been the ones to go, Penelope. Even if every man, every soldier had been Poseidon's cost- we knew the risks. We knew when we sailed that not all would return. If no one else, me and Eurylochus should have had the damn courage-"

He breaks into sobs and Penelope drops all sense of propriety to pull him into a hug, mouth downturned as she silently cries as well, shoulders jerking.

"I miss him," He sobs. "My best friend. Why did the gods have to take him? Why must the Fates be so cruel?"

Penelope's eyes mist over, as she turns to stare out the window, out at the poisoned ocean, her husband swimming somewhere under its waters.

Come back, she begs. Oh, Odysseus, everyone loves and misses you so. Come back soon.

[thewickedspinster]

Children of the Forest (Thranduil x Reader)

a/n: shout out to OP who requested this, i feel you at a deep level, and it's something not talked about often. sorry it's just a blurb, but i thought the conversation most important. i hope you enjoy!

warnings: afab!reader, gn pronouns, childbearing, children, reader who isn't comfortable with children

requested by @pebble-bb

Children of the Forest

The sounds of raucous, childish laughter bounced off the walls, drawing Y/N's attention downwards, towards where the young elves had just been let out of their scripting lessons. From where they stood, on Thranduil's balcony over the underground waterfall in the halls of Felegoth, they could see this small bit of elven life. Each day, the children ran from the small glen which housed desks, books, and all other bits and bobs required for teaching. They ran in pairs and triplets down the winding paths, deeper into the caves, off to their own families for quiet nights spent studying and laughing.

Before the elflings had disappeared around the bend, Y/N had turned from their position on the terrace, turning back towards their chambers. Their brows were furrowed, their mouth downturned.

"What troubles you, my love?" Came a familiar baritone. Thranduil had woken and was leaning on an elbow amidst Y/N's sheets. He had taken to more casual intimacies as of late, including moving his formal affairs around to nap in the afternoons. Ridiculous as it was, Y/N nearly blushed to think that the Elvenking was doing this for them.

"Nothing," they replied, perching on the edge of the bed. In truth, they'd hardly realized they looked troubled, they were so deep in thought.

"Do not lie to me," he murmured, drawing their arm through his hand and pulling it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the wrist. "You have that look you get when you're about to scold Legolas."

Legolas was an elf grown now, but an errant prince who shirked his duties. Despite that, he was respectful and loving towards Y/N as his father's dearest friend - and lover.

But the thought of how Legolas had been when he was young brought the truth bubbling out.

"I was never any good with him."

"Nonsense," Thranduil scoffed.

"No, truly, Thranduil," they insisted, pulling their wrist from his grasp. "He did not like me when he was young, and I had no knowledge on how to raise him. Especially once his mother passed."

It had been uncomfortable for Y/N, to say the least, when Thranduil's queen had passed, leaving them to shoulder the brunt of Thranduil's grief. And, as his closest friend, to shoulder the burden of helping to raise his young son. Legolas had grown quickly, and was often away, but it had not been easy.

"But you did beautifully. You're always quite confident with children."

Y/N grimaced. They had been keeping this truth from him long enough, letting him believe what he wanted to believe. But they were spending their nights in his bed, and his afternoons in theirs. It was time he understood the truth of it.

"I do not enjoy children, Thranduil," they said, perhaps a bit too bluntly. Their tone softened. "I am not good with them, and I do not want children of my own."

If it was possible for the Elvenking to be stunned, he was now. Y/N watched as he went through his thoughts, schooling his emotions to approach them in the way that he always had. He had more patience with them than anyone, and still, he had to work hard to keep it now.

"I do not understand. How could you not want children?"

Their fingers played at the sheets, eyes averted as they spoke. "Your son is your heir. I would not want to complicate that. But beyond that... I do not think my body or soul fit to bear children. Or raise them. Or to be near them. I could not be a teacher, as the one who works just beyond our walls." Y/N turned to look beyond the terrace, as if they could see the children running below. "I used to wish I felt that pull towards elflings. But I cannot lie to myself; I do not feel it. I cherish them as our future, but I do not want to make them my present."

Thranduil was quiet, but he stilled their frenetic movements with a large, warm hand. His knuckles, his fingers, were strong as they held them still, contemplating. Y/N relaxed, enough for him to pull them down towards him. In an uncharacteristic show of tenderness, he pressed his lips to their forehead.

"When you explain it like that, I suppose I can quite agree."

A shocked laugh left their lips. "However do you mean?"

"Legolas is my son, whom I made out of duty to my people," he mused, running a thoughtful thumb down the side of their neck. "I did not bear him, but I raised him. I have little patience for him. And could you imagine me as a teacher?"

They laughed truly now. "What an idea."

Enraptured by his silvery irises, they were unsurprised when he leaned up to kiss them, deeply, languidly. Tenderly. Against Y/N's lips, he murmured, "I could never fully understand, meleth nîn, but I do not mind. I am happiest now, and could not ask for anything more of you."

Relief, sweet and warm, flooded them, and they returned his kiss, threading their fingers through his loose hair. No more needed to be said on the matter. Thranduil had always appreciated Y/N for who they were, and had accepted them with a patience and love that neither of them had ever known. The Elvenking hardly knew he'd had it in him to be so kindhearted, until he'd met Y/N.

"You ought to get back to your throne, my king," Y/N finally whispered, their warming the shell of his ear. He nipped at them playfully, but slowly rose from the bed and held out a hand to them. They took it, rising beside him to kiss him once more. "Come with me. I need my voice of reason today."

Together, the two descended to guard and guide the children of the forest, the future of the grey elves. And they were content.

[lightning-and-dragons]

Theory/personal headcanon time? I don't know...but here we go!

What if Scott was actually Jay's half-brother? Think about it.

Cliff Gordon could've had a son before Jay was born. Let's say this son loved videogames, and Cliff pulled a few strings to get him to become the assistant to Milton Dyer, and to eventually test a new game called Prime Empire. Scott then vanished, and no one knew what happened.

Cliff, in his grief and pain at loosing his son, sues Vast Industries, and gets Milton Dyer fired, and then flings himself further and further into his acting career, hoping to find the joy that vanished when Scott did.

Eventually, Cliff meets Libber, marries her, but as soon as Jay is born he becomes afraid of Jay meeting an unfortunate demise like Scott did. In his fear, he leaves Jay's life, convinced that Cliff himself was the one bringing harm to his children. Libber then gives Jay to the Walkers, unable to be a single mother, and vanishes.

When Jay and Scott meet in Prime Empire, there's an immediate connection, a trust and friendliness the two have to each other. Of course, this could be because they both saved each other's lives, but there's a deep level of trust that they both have, enough for Scott let Jay into his secret garage, and soon use it as well. They don't know that they are brothers, but they act like it in every way.

And, in a game like Prime Empire, trust means a lot.

Quick notes about this headcanon:

Scott totally gives the rebellious teenager whose father is a millionaire vibe, while also still being a nice guy.

And, Scott has such an older brother vibe, while Jay is like a younger brother, especially in Prime Empire.

Scott totally takes Jay under his wing as soon as they meet too, teaching him the ways of Prime Empire.

(I'm not sure if the ages match up...but I think I'll headcanon this and hope that it does...I'm not too eager to do more research lol)

I would love to write a fic about this one day...i just love the idea so much!! But why can't we learn more about Jay's bio family? There could be so many exciting stories created with it! (I guess I really want Jay to have bio siblings, too)

[thestarlightforge]

Why “I’m Billy Maximoff” Mattered to Me — A Queer Disabled Person’s Journal

10/17/24

***

Call it silly if you like. But I feel actually healed. Because these stories, they’re not just “superheroes”—they’re modern mythology. They’re how we teach each other and our children who deserves a place in the world.

When I watched WandaVision, like a lot of people, I identified with Wanda’s grief/depression/trauma journeys. And of course saw myself in the queer kids she gave a loving home, more so the more Young Avengers books I read. But with the WandaVision versions of Billy and Tommy in particular—more so even than the comic books—I also read into it the disability/childhood terminal illness allegory. It’s something on Schaeffer’s mind while writing them—leaked audition tapes from actors not cast as the boys revealed as much—even if it didn’t occur to all the viewers.

But I wasn’t supposed to live, either. Wasn’t even supposed to be born.

I don’t talk about it a lot because it’s hard to talk about. But when my mom was pregnant with me, doctors in Tennessee (pro-life peons they claim to be; it’s all an act) tried to get my parents to late term abort me, all because of a genetic condition they suspected I had—which I don’t even have lol, turns out I had a different handful of impairments, but anyways. A lot of people with the genetic conditions I DO have die within two hours of being born. My whole childhood was spent ducking in and out of hospitals, I had eleven major surgeries and almost died a dozen or so times before I turned twenty… I am so pro-choice it’s insane, but I was one of the “inspiration porn” kids that white, southern Republicans used in their crusades, screaming their “pro-life” BS at the Democrats who gave MY mom the right to choose my life.

I know. It’s WILD.

All that to say, though: It hit me in a particular place when Wanda married her trans husband, had queer kids who the entire world screamed at her (either weren’t real or) shouldn’t have been allowed to live, and then believed in them and loved them. With her everything. Thanked her queer, disabled kids for the honor, for choosing her to be their mom. (And Multiverse of Madness asked us to hate her. It baffles me to this day.) She didn't give up on them, did everything in her power to rescue them on the faintest hope they had survived (calling out for help in the Darkhold), even as some of the most powerful mages on SEVERAL worlds gaslit her for years... And when the gaslighters finally convinced her they were right, she destroyed the artifact that could be used to hurt anyone like her boys ever again.

For years, since Schaeffer had to relinquish creative control to the Multiverse of Madness team, I have felt that “the only creator amongst my favorite stories who feels like I belong has had to let us go, and the people who follow her don’t even believe we deserve a chance… we’re crazy, imaginary, and the world is better off without us.”

A slam-the-door narrative, Doctor Pandemonium & Avengers: Disassembled come again, the likes of which Byrne & Bendis would be proud.

But Agatha is an anti-hero/anti-villain story about ALL misunderstood, outcast people who deserve a second chance, no matter what the world may think.

The fact that Billy’s story in the MCU is now a meta-commentary on that publication history narrative… That Schaeffer took the episode to say, “I don’t know how many times or in how many different ways I’m gonna have to spell this out for y’all, but Wanda’s kids are HERS. They are and were REAL. They have their OWN SOULS and they BOTH DESERVE to FIND THEMSELVES and FIND LOVE and LIVE.”

I can’t think of a better way to have honored us. 💙

“It’s nice to see you again, Billy” 😭

(for the record, Agatha saying this totally genuine and with tears in her eyes—she will never be a villain to me, not ever again 💜🖤)

Thank y’all for listening. ❤️

This one’s for Tommy 🥹💚