#source: return to oz

[totallycorrectsailormoonquotes]

I don’t hold out much hope for Usagi. She has many excellent qualities, but thinking is not one of them.

Rei

[incorrectlooneytunesquotes]

Witch Hazel: Not beautiful you understand, but you have a certain prettiness, different from my other heads. I believe I'll lock you in the tower for a few years until your head is ready, and then I'll take it. Penelope: I believe you will NOT!

[incorrectmahoyakuquotes]

We don't hold out much hope for Kenja-sama. Kenja-sama has many excellent qualities, but thinking is not one of them.

Snow and White (HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!)

[incorrectlwlandpiquotes]

I don’t hold out much hope for Jericho. He has many excellent qualities, but thinking is not one of them.

Kira

[impulsive-fantasylander]

Now that i have an au that combines the mgm movie and return to oz i am going to be so annoying about them, ahem, kansas and oz are both equally "good" places for dorothy actually. while probably not an intended point of the mgm movie (return to oz on the other hand-), it does add a lot to both "oz as a real place" and "oz as a construct of dorothy's mind" ideas, and in this essay i will talk about how these 2 ideas are not only NOT contradictory but also perfectly complementary-

[flovverworks]

srry for showing the class my mid anime boy but unfortunately hes the "i care so much for someone that him getting into life-or-death situations nonstop started eating me inside out of worry until it reached the point where i decided to leave" & "if ur pride hurts the (feelings of) children then that pride is useless" & "i dont think we can live together but im going to make ur favorite food when ure feeling down"

[dsknsk]

I always kinda get annoyed when people treat the Magical Girl quartet as just a Madoka Magica reference and nothing more. Because they aren't just that. Not even Queenie. Just like the Oz Abnormalities and numerous others, they represent parts of the City itself.

In a traditional sense, magical girls fight for what's right, for ideals such as love, justice, happiness and courage. They live ordinary lives for the eyes of everyone, only to have another identity that comes out when push comes to stove. They are figures to be admired, stepping up in the face of evil and then punishing it. They are by nature a figure drawn from ideals, just like superheroes, because they are the result of people thinking "What if there was a hero who beat up the evil in the world and made it less shitty than it is?". This is why I think that the Magical Girl quartet represents what happens to ideals in the City and the people who have them.

Queen of Hatred

Starting with Queenie herself. She began as the Magical Girl of Love, but ended up with the title of Queen of Hatred. Love and Hatred are, as one could argue, opposites, yet they can also be said to be similar. One often leads to the other, and they are both intense emotions that can drive people to extremes. Queenie started out as your traditional, hopeful magical girl, ready to fight all evil that may come her way. But...in her case, the evil was beaten and there was nothing left to fight. This is one big difference between her and Madoka Magica - in the latter series, one large part of the world is that the enemies never disappear, for they stem from the same source as the ones that fight them. That's why once girls become magical girls, they can never stop being one, lest they become the enemy itself. But the problem that our Magical Girl of Love encountered is that, once she's beaten all evil, there was...nothing left.

And what's a magical girl with no evil left to fight? Girls transform into their magical forms in order to fight evil, so with the "evil" out of the equation...there'd really be no reason to be a magical girl at all, right? In a world without evil to beat, what is a magical girl even gonna DO?

Well, as it turns out, when it came to that point she realized that the reason for her existence as a magical girl was taken away, that no one really needed her anymore. Magical girls without any evil to beat are just regular girls to everyone else. But as we could see from the page illustrations in Ruina, she loved fighting evil and people cheered for her. And now...there's nothing left for her.

But there HAS to be, right? There HAS to be an evil, otherwise she can't exist and do well what she does best: beating evil. So she turned from the Magical Girl of Love into the Queen of Hatred, now that there was no need to keep fighting for love anymore. If there's no evil...then she just became the evil itself. I mean, the job application's still open...

I personally regard her snake form as more similar to a doppel than to a witch. It's the manifestation of her frustration, and she returns back to normal once you manage to beat her in this form. She notably transforms when 20% of your employees die during the time she tries to assist (during a Second Trumpet), and I think that that's more or less a result of "I TRY to help you, but it goes wrong in the end, so WHAT AM I EVEN DOING? WHAT AM I EVEN FOR IF I CAN'T DO WHAT A MAGICAL GIRL DOES BEST?"

Queenie is a representation of all those in the City who started out as ready to reach their ideals, only to realize that without their presence, the world just turns as it always does as well. The City doesn't care about them nor their ideals. They're just not needed, and they will probably bring no change at all. So they end up descending into hatred, just like so many others in the City already have.

Hearts as a suit translate into the Cups suit in the arcana, representing water, and with that, emotions, feelings and the subconscious. It is represented by a cup in rituals.

Knight of Despair

The Knight of Despair is actually kind of similar to Queenie. In both cases, the evil they were fighting left the equation, but the main difference lies in their reactions on it and the cause. While the Magical Girl of Love went on to become the evil itself now that there's none left, the Magical Girl of Justice descended into despair. Many people think she's just an expy of Sayaka Miki, but while they do share some themes, the Knight of Despair is an Abnormality that I think you have to see in the context of the City, and she is fundamentally different from Sayaka.

The Magical Girl of Justice had and still has a very strong sense of duty, as she swore to protect "the king, the city, the state and the weak". As she encountered a similar ending as the Magical Girl of Love did, however, even with her protection, people still ended up as their evil selves, so she stopped. So eventually, she became forgotten now that she was not needed anymore and devolved from the Magical Girl of Justice into the Knight of Despair.

I think that Knight of Despair is a representation of those that loyally follow their "duty" in the City. In the City, there are many groups: Offices, Associations, Syndicates, you name it, and they have members who are ferociously loyal to their boss and the ideas that they strive for. There's the Middle with their ideas of family. There's the Ring with their constant striving for the perfect piece of art. There's the Index who seek to make sure that the "City's will" is followed up. There's the Yurodiviye who want to make a change at all cost and revere Sonya as a saint and revolutionary. I could go on. All of these people have a certain worldview that decides their lifestyle and that of those who are loyal to them.

This is why I think Knight of Despair represents what happens if doubt starts to set in. I mean, you're giving it your all, but the world doesn't change. So...what if there is no evil to fight (anymore) because it's a lie? Since there is no change, what worth does your fight even have? What if, even with all your efforts towards your goal, there is still nothing that changes? What if the world isn't like what the big boss decided it is? What if the "City's Will" is nothing more than just a bunch of random writings? What if there's no such thing as a perfect piece of art? What if "family" is just an idea that the big boss uses to keep his underlings in check? What if the world is so unable to change that no one can even make a change? The world keeps turning without you, no matter whether you make an effort to reach your goal or not, not even caring whether it's noble or not. Just like with Queenie, Knight realized that even though she fought in a valiant effort, it still brings no results, so she has no use in the end.

Then, what can you even do? Without a duty, what purpose do you still fulfill? Those are the questions that Knight of Despair implicitly asks.

Spades as a suit translate into Swords in the arcana, representing air, and with that, intelligence, power and acute thinking. It is represented by an athame with a yellow blade and purple inscriptions in rituals.

King of Greed

The King of Greed is slightly different from the other two in that her "problem" is something else than evil disappearing. Once known as the Magical Girl of Happiness, she got carried away by the feeling of victory and started to want more, more and more of it until she devolved into the King of Greed.

There is a myth that dopamine is addicting. Dopamine in itself is not addicting; it stems from the underlying activity. In her case, fighting evil. Fighting evil just to feel good about the victory is...well, it's not what the core of being a magical girl is about. It became less about keeping people safe from evil and upholding justice (like the Magical Girl of Justice fought for) and more about beating evil because it feels fun to do so.

But dopamine DOES play a role in developing tolerance, especially in the context of addiction. And once again, in her case, the addiction was not to any kind of substance. It was to the feeling of victory itself. And so, the Magical Girl of Happiness only strived for her own happiness first and foremost, and devolved into the King of Greed.

I think that in the context of the City, King of Greed is very easy actually. I mean, how many people started out as just striving for accomplishments only to want more and more and more and more once they were offered rewards that they couldn't resist? If people start to recognize your accomplishments, they start offering you things like money, honor and high positions. Something must've happened with the Magical Girl of Happiness too, once people saw how good she was at fighting evil, even if it's nowhere really explicitly put.

Diamonds as a suit translate to Pentacles in the arcana, representing earth, and with that, material gain, self-esteem and finances. It is represented by a (stack of) coin(s) in rituals.

Servant of Wrath

The Servant of Wrath is a bit different from the first two once again in that her "problem", once again, is not the absence of evil but something entirely. But I think that she and the Knight of Despair have their fair share of similarities; which I will come back quickly.

The Servant of Wrath started out as the Magical Girl of Courage, determined to keep up justice (similar to Knight of Despair, who was known as the Magical Girl of Justice). This is likely also why her entire aesthetic looks like a judge, with a cravat, blindfold (mirroring Lady Justice) and a gavel. And yet somehow she made friends with the Hermit of the Azure Forest. Who very obviously looks evil and was an enemy of her homeworld, and I think that there's what the tragedy sits in.

Maybe the Magical Girl of Courage just really wanted friends and took the first offer that seemed genuine, no matter if it came from an enemy. Maybe she knew that the Hermit was evil but she thought that them becoming friends would redeem the Hermit (something that's not uncommon in traditional magical girl series). We will never know. All that's stated is that she betrayed her principles and befriended someone she should never have befriended, and who only exploited it.

But we do know that in the end, despite their stated friendship, the Hermit ended up betraying the Magical Girl of Courage and fulfilling her role as an enemy either way, bringing destruction to the city that the Magical Girl of Courage protected (which we can see in the background of the fight against the Hermit in Ruina). Now you can say "yeah, you had that coming, what with making friendship with a very creepy looking villain". But, here's the thing: the Magical Girl of Courage genuinely regarded the Hermit as a friend. This is very, very obvious if you look at the lines present in her Abnormality pages.

And, despite being betrayed, the Magical Girl of Courage still tries to see the Hermit as her friend, so desperate to not let go of the idea that they are friends. Lashing out in pure anger, the Magical Girl of Courage devolved into the Servant of Wrath.

Circling back to the Knight of Despair. I think that both her and Servant of Wrath represent what happens if a person ready to follow the ideals ends up being betrayed. Either by people, or by facing reality, just like Yan - but the Servant leans towards the former due to her lore. Imagine: you commit yourself entirely to your group (like the Middle), to the people you think you can trust and have your back, only to be disposed off just like another pawn that can be used. Because in the end, that's all that you become, so in a desperate attempt, you lash out.

Clubs as a suit translate to Wands in the arcana, representing fire, and with that, primal energy, determination and strength. It is represented by a wand with a bud in rituals.

Jester of Nihil

So the Jester technically is not a part of the quartet, but is implicitly connected to them in some weird way that's never expanded upon (yet). Going with the loose arcana theme, the Jester is a warped version of the 0th card, The Fool, which usually represents new beginnings, an open look towards the future and optimism no matter what happens when upright. The Jester is a twisted form of it, as it has nihilism as a theme. It is a culmination of the ill fates of all four Magical Girls, either in spirit or literally, as nihilism is a recurring theme in all of the four. There's no evil to fight, so why even try to get by? There's nothing that changes even if you fight valiantly, so why even seek something to protect? Victory feels so good, so why even fight for things like "safety' and "protection" while you can fight just to enjoy all your gains? Your friend just betrayed you, so why even continue to believe in friendship? The phrase "so why even" is something I feel like encapsulates nihilism a lot.

The Jester's phrases mention a dog that is supposed to guide it. In the original card of The Fool, there is a dog on the image that warns the main figure not to fall off the cliff that it's about to tumble from. It being gone would imply that the nihilism is a result of the impulses rather than anything rational. Look back at the questions: don't they seem incredibly short-sighted?

Whatever the true nature of the Jester is, the fact that the Magical Girls return to their original forms to fight for what they originally fought for and them only being able to beat it with their original moves does imply a shred of hope. Nihilism, the foe omnipresent in their lives and in the City, may seem impossible to beat, but there are still little victories to be made.

Conclusion

The Magical Girls as a whole represent the fate of ideals in such a bleak setting as the City, and the oppressive nihilism that is omnipresent. However, as they can be turned back even if just for that one fight against the Jester, I think that there's some hope left as well.

Tiny note about the arcana - some versions may swap the athame and the wand in rituals, associating the athame with fire and the wand with air as a result. It's also known that the Golden Dawn purposefully would garble rituals to outsiders so that they could not be faithfully copied, so I'm sticking to the athame for air and the wand for fire.

[nobodysdaydreams]

I’ve seen a lot of posts about how “no one mourns the Wicked” is actually about Galinda, but I’ve been listening to it again, and I gotta say, I think the song is actually about the Wizard with rather dark implications.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m sure Galinda thinks and believes it’s about her. But Galinda became good in the end, she was Elphaba’s friend, Elphaba and Fiyero miss her, and Galinda has friends in Oz, the musical ends with one of Elphaba’s flying monkeys getting the ability to talk to her and Galinda can help them now. She’s mourning Elphaba, and she might be alone in that, but in other respects, she isn’t alone or dead or wicked or forgotten.

The same cannot be said of the Wizard. “The Wicked’s lives are lonely” is very much about him. Even at the height of his power, he had to isolate himself so that no one could see he was a fraud. When Elphaba threatened him, he became paranoid and spent his days in isolation and fear. Whereas Galinda, even at her worst and limited power, has always been well known. The Wizard has left Oz, and the people don’t seem to question it because they have Galinda now, and they know Galinda and they love Galinda, while the Wizard was more an idea than a man. He never visited them, he never did what Galinda does for them. No one misses him, why would they? Galinda fills his role, what little of it there was, a thousand times over. The lyric “no one cries they won’t return” fits the Wizard best, not Galinda. People are thrilled to see her, and don’t seem to care that he’s gone, while Galinda cries for Elphaba.

Also “the wicked cry alone” applies to the Wizard too, when he mourns Elphaba. Yes, Galinda technically mourns for her alone too, but at least Galinda has the Animals, the few that can still say some words. The Wizard cries, but Galinda doesn’t cry with him, because the Wizard is crying over his own actions as well as her death, and Galinda has no sympathy for him, no one does, and that’s his own fault for making them hate Elphaba. Also the song says “Nothing grows for the wicked, they reap only what they’ve sown” and the story that Galinda tells during the song isn’t her and Elphaba’s story (that’s later), but Elphaba’s and her father’s story, specifically, how the Wizard brought about Elphaba’s existence and set himself on this path. Galinda asks if people are born wicked or have it thrust upon them, which is ironic because the Wizard is the reason Elphaba was born AND why she was vilified.

Then we have “no one lays a lily on their grave” and “the wicked die alone”. I’ve pointed this out in other posts, but it’s never confirmed in any or at least most versions of Wicked/Wizard of Oz source material that the Wizard makes it home or has any way to do so. I’m not sure what the movie is gonna do about this, or if they’ll attempt to repair the balloon or heavily imply he dies, but the Wizard dying alone in his grief and no one missing him while instrumentals of “no one mourns the wicked” play in the background certainly takes care of that problem.

Also “woe to those who spurn what goodness is, they are shown” also applies to the Wizard. He has a whole song in part 2 about goodness being a matter of perception and rejects Elphaba’s plea to help the Animals. He vilifies her goodness and believes, truly, that he is the hero because he has declared himself so, and that he is a good “father to the nation” because he declared it. He makes himself the subjective decider of goodness. It’s only in the end, when he realizes what he’s done to Elphaba that he has regrets and begins to see and understand the evil he has done. Elphaba is what he “misses when he’s misbehaved” as the song says, and although none of the villagers know that, Galinda witnessed it and knows that the Wizard missed the opportunity to be a father, which was all he claimed to ever want. It’s a missed opportunity, information he would not have been missing and discovered earlier had he acted differently, and “missed” in the sense that he misses the daughter he threw away.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Guide: 3-Act Structure

ACT I

EXPOSITION

Establish your protagonist, their everyday life, and their "desire"

Sample Synopsis: Young Dorothy Gale lives in rural Kansas and dreams of something more.

Your Synopsis:

INCITING INCIDENT

An event forces a change in your character, setting their adventure in motion.

Sample Synopsis: A tornado whisks Dorothy away to the magical land of Oz, ripping her from the comfort of her everyday existence.

Your Synopsis:

PLOT POINT 1

Your protagonist crosses the point of no return.

Sample Synopsis: Realising that her only way back is by finding the Great and Powerful Oz in the Emerald City, Dorothy sets off down the Yellow Brick Road.

Your Synopsis:

— 25% through your story —

ACT II

RISING ACTION

The protagonist encounters roadblocks on the way to achieving their goal.

Sample Synopsis: Dorothy befriends the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman, and the Cowardly Lion. Together they encounter minor obstacles (e.g., apple-throwing trees).

Your Synopsis:

MIDPOINT

The hero faces their biggest challenge, which threatens to completely derail their mission.

Sample Synopsis: Dorothy discovers that the Wizard is a charlatan.

Your Synopsis:

PLOT POINT 2

The protagonist — who has so far been reactive — makes a choice to become proactive.

Sample Synopsis: So that she may have a chance to go home, Dorothy and her friends decide to take on the Wicked Witch by themselves.

Your Synopsis:

— 75% through your story —

ACT III

PRE-CLIMAX

As the protagonist faces their final challenge, it would seem that all is lost.

Sample Synopsis: On the way to the castle, Dorothy is captured by the witch who reveals her plans to kill Dorothy.

Your Synopsis:

CLIMAX

The protagonist manages to overcome whatever is holding them back. They triumph over the antagonist.

Sample Synopsis: Dorothy defeats the wicked witch!

Your Synopsis:

DENOUEMENT

Our hero returns to their previous life, having changed. Loose ends are tied up and tension is released.

Sample Synopsis: Dorothy waves goodbye to her new friends and returns to Kansas, grateful for the life she has there.

Your Synopsis:

Note:

Use this outline to define all 9 of your story's major plot points.

You can then use the 'Scene-by-Scene' guide below to plot out your entire story.

As you write, revise, and edit, return to this guide and update the structure to reflect your latest draft.

Scene-by-Scene Guide: 3-Act Structure

Scene Number (1, 2...):

Act (I, II, III):

Plot Point (Exposition, Inciting Incident...):

Location:

Date/Time:

Characters in Scene:

Synopsis (What action takes place in the scene?):

Changes (How are the characters or situation now different?):

Note: Not every scene features one of the major plot points.

Source ⚜ More: Writing Worksheets & Templates Writing References: Plot ⚜ Character ⚜ Worldbuilding

[lesfruitsdores]

Who are the hostages still held by Hamas?

On October 7, 2023, 253 Israelis and foreign nationals were kidnapped to Gaza by Hamas and gazan civilians. Since then, 105 were released in a prisioner exchange deal, 4 were released by Hamas and 3 were rescued.

However, 60 remain in captivity [as of 02/09/24] (4 of those were kidnapped prior to 2023). A recent investigation has concluded that more than a fifth of the hostages are dead and the fate of some other hostages remains unknown. This video explains how doctors determine which hostages are dead, based on the nature of their injury and by analyising footage and the victims' last phone calls. Additionally, during the operation in Gaza, the IDF has recovered the bodies of a few victims and returned to their families for burial.

Since I couldn't find this all in one place, I've compiled a list of: 1) hostages who are presumed alive; 2) hostaged whose death has been reported/confirmed; 3) hostages who were released or rescued. In the group of hostages presumed to be alive who haven't been released, the youngest is 1-year-old Kfir Bibas and the oldest hostage is Iraqi-born 85-year old Shlomo Mansour.

As we learn more information, I'll continue to update this post.

They need to come back home. I'm hoping for more successful rescue operations soon. Keep them in your thoughts.

Hostages still held by Hamas (presumed alive or fate unknown):

(1) (2) (3)

Abraham Eitan Mor (23)

Agam Berger (19)

Alexander (Sasha) Trupanob (28)

Alon Ohel (22)

Arbel Yehoud (28)

Ariel Bibas (4)

Ariel Cunio (26)

Avera Mengistu (37) – Has been held hostage since 2014

Avinathan Or (30)

Bar Kupershtein (22)

Bipin Joshi (23)

Daniel Gilboa (19)

David Cunio (33)

Doron Steinbrecher (30)

Edan Alexander (20)

Eitan Horn (37)

Eli Sharabi (51)

Eliya Cohen (26)

Elkana Bohbot (34)

Evytar David (23)

Gadi Moses (79)

Gali Berman (26)

Guy Gilboa-Dalal (22)

Hamzah Al-Zayadni (22)

Hisham al-Sayed (35) - Has been held hostage since 2015

Yair Horn (45)

Idan Shivi (28)

Itzhk Elgarat (68)

Karina Ariev (19)

Kfir Bibas (1)

Liri Albag (18)

Matan Angrest (21)

Matan Zangauker (24)

Maxim Herkin (35)

Naama Levy (19)

Nimrod Cohen (19)

Oded Lifshitz (83)

Ofer Kalderon (53)

Ohad Ben Ami (55)

Ohad Yahalomi (49)

Omer Neutra (22)

Omer Shem Tov (21)

Omer Wenkert (22)

Omri Miran (46)

Or Levy (33)

Rom Braslavski (19)

Romi Gonen (23)

Sagui Dekel-Chen (35)

Samuel Keith Siegel (64)

Segev Kalfon (25)

Shiri Bibas (32)

Shlomo Mansour (85)

Tal Shoham (38)

Tamir Nimrod (19)

Tsachi Idan (51)

Yagev Kirsht (34)

Yarden Bibas (34)

Yosef Al-Zayadni (53)

Yosef Ohana (23)

Ziv Berman (26)

Hostages confirmed/reported dead:

(Note: I couldn't find a report with the full list, but if you google each individual name you can find sources.)

Abraham Munder (79) - Body recovered on 20/08/24.

Alex Danzig (75) - Body recovered on 20/08/24.

Alexander Lobanov (32)

Almog Sarusi (26)

Alon Shamriz (26) – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Amit Buskila (28) - Likely killed on Oct. 7. Body recovered on 17/05/24.

Amiram Cooper (84) - Status updated on 03/06/24.

Arye Zalmanovich (85) - Death reported by Hamas. He was forced to appear in a propaganda video.

Asaf Hamami (41)

Aviv Atzili (49)

Carmel Gat (39) - Body recovered on 31/08/24.

Chaim Peri (79) - Status updated on 03/06/24.

Daniel Oz (19) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 25/02/24

Daniel Perez (22) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 17/03/24

Dolev Yehoud (35) - Killed on Oct. 7. He was presumed to be a hostage, but his remains were found in Israel after months. Status updated on 03/06/24.

Dror Kaplun (68)

Dror Or (48) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 02/05/24.

Eden Yerushalmi (24) - Body recovered on 31/08/24.

Eden Zecharya (28)

Eitan Levy (53)

Elad Katzir (47) - Murdered by the Palestinian Islamic Jihad. His body was recovered in Khan Yunis. Status updated on 06/04/24.

Eliyahu Margalit (75)

Elyakim Libman (23) - Killed on Oct. 7. It was presumed he was a hostage because his body wasn't found, but it was later discovered his remains were accidentally buried with another victim. Status updated on 03/05/24.

Gad Haggai (73)

Guy Iluz (26)

Hadar Goldin (32) - Body held hostage since 2014

Hanan Yablonka (42) - Killed on Oct. 7. Body recovered on 24/05/24.

Hersh Goldberg-Polin (23) - Body recovered on 31/08/24.

Ilan Weiss (56)

Inbar Haiman (27)

Itay Chen (19) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 12/03/24.

Itay Svirsky (35) – Killed by Hamas in captivity. His body was shown in a propaganda video

Itzik Gelenter (58) - Likely killed on Oct. 7. Body recovered on 17/05/24.

Joshua Loitu Mollel (21) – A released video shows how he was brutally murdered by a group of men on October 7

Judy Weinstein (70)

Kiril Brodski (19)

Lior Rudaeff (61) - Killed on Oct. 7. His body was taken to Gaza. Status updated on 07/05/24.

Maya Goren (56)

Mordechai Yonathan Samerano (21) - Killed on Oct. 7. His body was taken to Gaza.

Nadav Popplewell (51) - Status updated on 03/06/24.

Nik Beizer (19)

Noa Marciano (19) – Her body was found near the Al-Shifa hospital

Michel Nisenbaum (59) - Killed on Oct. 7. Body recovered on 24/05/24.

Muhammed Alatrash (40) - Killed on Oct. 7. Status updated on 24/06/24.

Ofir Tzarfati (27)

Ofra Keider (70)

Oren Goldin (34)

Ori Danino (24) - Body recovered on 31/08/24.

Orión Hernandez (30) - Killed on Oct. 7. Body recovered on 24/05/24.

Oron Shaul (30) – Body held hostage since 2014

Ran Gvlli (24)

Ravid Katz (41)

Ron Benjamin (53) - Killed on Oct. 7 and his body was taken to Gaza. Body recovered on 18/05/24.

Ron Scherman (19)

Ronen Engel (54)

Sahar Baruch (24) – Killed by Hamas during a failed hostage rescue operation

Samer Talalka (22) – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Shay Levinson (19)

Shani Louk (22) - Body taken to Gaza. Her body was recovered on 17/05/24.

Sonthaya Oakkharasr - Killed on Oct. 7. Body taken to Gaza. Status updated on 16/05/24.

Sudthisak Rinthalak - Killed on Oct. 7. Body taken to Gaza. Status updated on 16/05/24.

Tal Chaim (42)

Tamir Adar (38)

Tomer Ahimas (20)

Uriel Baruch (35) - Status updated on 26/03/24

Yagev Buchshtab (34)

Yair Yaakov (59) – Killed on Oct. 7. Sons and girlfriend were released. Status updated on 15/02/24.

Yehudit Weiss (65) – Her body was found near the Al-Shifa hospital

Yossi Sharabi (53) – His dead body was shown in a propaganda video

Yoram Metzer (80) - Status updated on 03/06/24.

Yotam Haim – Mistakenly killed by the IDF

Ziv Dado (36)

Released/rescued hostages:

(1) (2)

Abigail Edan, 4, American citizen

Ada Sagi, 75

Adi Shoham, 38

Adina Moshe, 72

Agam Goldstein-Almog, 17

Aisha Ziyadne, 17

Alma Avraham, 84

Alma Or, 13

Almog Meir Jan (21) - Rescued by the IDF on 08/06/24.

Amit Shani, 15

Amit Soussana, 40

Andrey Zozlov (27) - Rescued by The IDF on 08/06/24.

Anucha Angkaew

Aviv Asher, 2, German citizen

Aviva Adrienne Siegel, 62

Bancha Kongmanee, Thai national

Bilal Ziyadne, 18

Boonthom Phankhong, Thai national

Buddee Saengboon, Thai national

Chalermchai Sangkaew

Channa Peri, 79

Chen Goldstein-Almog, 48

Clara Marman, 63, Argentine citizen

Daniel Aloni, 44

Dafna Elyakim, 15

Doron Katz Asher, 34, German citizen

Ditza Heiman, 84

Emilia Aloni, 5

Emily Toni Kornberg Hand, 8

Emma Cunio, 3, Argentine citizen

Erez Calderon, 12, French citizen

Eitan Yahalomi, 12, French citizen

Ela Elyakim, 8

Fernando Marman – Rescued by the IDF

Gabriela Leimberg, 59, Argentine citizen

Gal Goldstein-Almog, 11

Gal Tarshansky, 13

Gelienor (Jimmy) Pacheco, 37, Filipino national

Hagar Brodetz, 40

Hanna Katzir, 77

Hila Rotem Shoshani, 12

Ilana Gritzewsky Kimchi, 30

Irena Tati, 73, a Russian citizen, was included on the list but released separately from the exchange deal.

Itay Regev Jerbi, 18

Juckapan Sikena

Judith Raanan, 59 [Released 22/10/23]

Kaid Farhan Alkadi (52) - Rescued by the IDF on 27/08/24.

Karina Engel-Bart, 51, Argentine citizen

Keren Munder, 54

Komkrit Chombua

Kong Saelao

Liam Or, 18

Liat Beinin Atzili, 49, American citizen

Luis Har – Rescued by the IDF

Manee Jirachart

Margalit Mozes, 78, German citizen

Maya Regev Jirbi, 21

Meirav Tal, 53

Mia Leimberg, 17, Argentine citizen

Mia Shem, 21, French citizen

Mika Engel, 18, Argentine citizen

Mongkhol Phajuabboon, Thai national

Moran Stela Yanai, 40

Natalie Raanan, 17 [Released 22/10/23]

Nattaporn Onkaew

Natthawaree Moonkan, Thai national

Naveh Shoham, 8

Nili Margalit, 41

Noa Argamani (26) - Rescued by the IDF on 08/06/24.

Noam Avigdori, 12

Noga Weiss, 18

Noam Or, 17

Noralin Babadilla, 60, born in the Philippines

Nurit Cooper [Released 24/10/23]

Ofri Brodetz, 10

Ohad Munder, 9

Or Yaakov, 16, German citizen

Ori Megidish – Rescued by the IDF

Oriya Brodetz, 4

Owat Suriyasri, 40, father of two

Ofelia Adit Roitman, 77, born in Argentina

Ofir Engel, 17, Dutch citizen

Paiboon Rattanin

Pattanayut Tonsakree

Phonsawan Pinakalo

Ra’aya Rotem, 54

Raz Ben-Ami, 56, German citizen

Rimon Kirsht Buchshtav, 36

Raz Asher, 4, German citizen

Ron Krivoi, 25, an Israeli-Russian citizen, was included on the list, although he was released separately from the exchange deal.

Ruth Munder, 78

Sahar Calderon, 16, French citizen

Santi Boonphrom, Thai national

Sapir Cohen, 29

Shani Goren, 29

Sharon Aloni-Cunio, 34, Argentine citizen

Sharon Hertzman Avigdori, 52

Shlomi Ziv (40) - Rescued by the IDF on 08/06/24.

Shiri Weiss, 53

Shoshan Haran, 67

Surin Kesungnoen

Tal Goldstein-Almog, 8

Tamar Metzger, 78

Uthai Sangnuan, Thai national

Uthai Thunsri, Thai national

Wichai Kalapat, 28, Thai national

Wichian Temthon

Withoon Phumee, 33, Thai national

Yaffa Adar, 85

Yagil Yaakov, 12, German citizen

Yahel Shoham, 3

Yarden Roman-Gat, 35, German citizen

Yelena Trupanov, 50, a Russian citizen, was included on the list but released separately from the exchange deal.

Yocheved Lifshitz [Released 24/10/23]

Yuli Cunio, 3, Argentine citizen

Yuval Brodetz, 8

Yuval Engel, 12, Argentine citizen

[bestanimal]

Round 3 - Reptilia - Trogoniformes

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Our next order of birds are the Trogoniformes, commonly called “trogons”. Trogoniformes consists of one family, Trogonidae, and 7 genera.

Trogons are colorful, tropical birds with broad bills and small, weak legs. They are fast fliers with strong wings, but are reluctant to fly, as arboreal birds. They have compact bodies and long tails, very long in quetzals. Trogons are the only type of animal with a heterodactyl toe arrangement, which is like zygodactyly, except that digits 3 and 4 point forward and digits 1 and 2 point back. They feed on insects, other arthropods, and fruit. Some may also sometimes take small vertebrates such as lizards. Prey is almost always obtained on the wing, with the trogon flying from an observation perch to snatch an insect or fruit, and then returning to its perch to eat. They live in tropical regions of the Americas, Africa, and Asia.

Trogons are territorial and many are sexually dimorphic. Males sing to attract females, and chase away other males they hear singing. They are seasonally monogamous. The word “trogon” is Greek for "nibbling" and refers to the fact that these birds chew holes in wood or termite mounds to make their nests. Nest cavities can either be deep upward slanting tubes that lead to fully enclosed chambers, or much shallower open niches. Nest digging may be undertaken by the male alone or by both sexes. Both parents incubate the eggs (except in the case of the Bare-cheeked Trogon [Apaloderma aequatoriale]), with the male taking one long incubation stint a day and the female incubating the rest of the time. On hatching the chicks are altricial, blind, and naked. The chicks grow faster in smaller species, while in larger species they take longer to fledge.

The fossil record of the trogons dates back 49 million years to the Early Eocene.

Propaganda under the cut:

The ratio of leg muscle to body weight in trogons is only 3%, the lowest known ratio of any bird. Their legs are so weak and short that they shuffle to walk, and are even incapable of turning around on a branch without using their wings. Their lack of activity is possibly a defense against predation, making them less attractive to predators who hunt by motion. Trogons will reportedly shift on branches to keep their more colorful feathers turned away from observers, while turning their heads up to 180 degrees to keep watch.

For trogons that dig nests into tree trunks, the wood must be strong enough not to collapse but soft enough to dig out. Trogons have been observed landing on dead tree trunks and slapping the wood with their tails, presumably to test the firmness.

Violaceous Trogons (Trogon violaceus, caligatus, and ramonianus) nest within wasp nests, eating the wasps and larvae as they excavate.

The Amazonian Black-throated Trogon (Trogon rufus) sometimes follows army ant swarms to capture prey disturbed by the ants.

Malabar Trogons (Harpactes fasciatus) have been observed diving into water from an overhanging branch in order to bathe.

The Cuban Trogon (Priotelus temnurus), or Tocororo, is the national bird of Cuba, and its colors match those of the Cuban flag.

The largest trogon is the Resplendent Quetzal (Pharomachrus mocinno) (image 1) which weighs 210 g (7.4 oz) and reaches 40 cm (1.3 ft) long, not including the 0.91 m (3 ft) long tail streamers of the males. The Resplendent Quetzal has an important role in Mesoamerican mythology, and is closely associated with the god Quetzalcoatl. It is also the national animal of Guatemala, and gives its name to the country's currency: the Guatemalan quetzal.

[nevertoomanyspiders]

it's a Wheeler!

for literally no goddamn reason, have an assortment of Wheelers from various adaptations and depictions ...that aren't John R. Neill's art or Return to Oz stuff, everyone already knows those, haha.

...well ok except this one from the endpaper of Ozma of Oz because it's new to me, at least, and the gutenberg.org copy doesn't have it.

what a dang dork, bless. glad he and Tik-Tok set aside their differences to watch the race.

Illustration

from 1976 Polish edition of Ozma of Oz with art by Zbigniew Rychlicki, via Reddit:

these lads are so stylish and their oversized heads are pretty freaky, dang.

a very 17th century Wheeler from 1970 Japanese edition of Ozma of Oz, art by Sonoko Arai, via Hungry Tiger Talk:

a dang goofy Wheeler by Vlada Stolikovich, 1976. also via Hungry Tiger Talk:

anyway, fuck, um, everything else is under a cut because this post ended up a bit too long oops.

something I have a hard time finding information on beyond that what I assume to be a Korean translation (?) of an Indonesian edition (???) of Ozma of Oz with 3D CGI illustrations. would be fun to see if there's more images within. not a damn clue who made these illustrations, either.

gosh those Wheelers. dunno what the artist was going for but there's a bit of a renaissance vibe. what if this was an animated thing? on that note...

Animated adaptations

the 1987 direct-to-video short Dorothy Meets Ozma of Oz has uh. these fuckers. seemingly there's only two. probably because of low animation budget, lol.

well, I say there's two, but it's just one design with a palette swap one has blonde hair and pink coat, the other has black hair and orange coat or something. also it's not evident from the screenshots but these dorks have long, pretty eyelashes and GAWD the voice acting is. well. hear for yourselves.

one of my favourite moments is Ozma turning up, saying "Enough." and bonking a Wheeler on the head with her scepter. here's the time stamp.

oh yeah I'm sure a bunch of folks have seen the Wheelers as seen in Oz Kids courtesy of this post. they appear in the episode Who Stole Santa. (and no it wasn't the Wheelers, obviously, they're just here to be annoying and trying to prevent the characters from taking a specific path.)

the guy in purple, who I'm calling Squeky Wheel, looks a lot like the Wheeler in this Ozma of Oz chapter art by John R. Neill. poor guy got walloped pretty hard.

anyway only Squeaky talks while his two buddies remain silent. these guys are such pushovers and the kids aren't scared of them at all.

Dorothy and the Wizard of Oz (2017-2020) has these little bobble-headed goobers.

can't say I'm crazy about how they look but their characterization as reckless speedsters is a fun one. in one episode they even make friends with Tin Man after he replaces a busted wheel.

Ozu no Mahotsukai (オズの魔法使い, 1986-1987) has a... very strange interpretation of the Wheelers, but then, the series does play fast and loose with the source material as it is, which I don't mind! an adaptation doing something fun with the source material adds an element of unpredictability which I like... so, I'm not terribly surprised by how much they deviate from the book descriptions.

they wouldn't look too out of place in the B.C. comic strip.

and this segues perfectly to...

Comics

the Marvel comic adaptation of Ozma of Oz by Eric Shanower (writer) and Skottie Young (artist) probably has some of my fav depictions of the Wheelers, and I really like this variant cover (I believe it's by Eric Shanower?)

these guys are utterly freaky but also dang silly. watching these fucked up abominations bumble around defuses the terror.

there he go

so, there's the ones I've seen so far. if there's more that you know of, SEND THEM TO ME I NEED THEM SO BAD HELP

edit: OK there were some earlier Wheeler things I forgot about!

this Japanese edition has these kinda menacing looking Wheelers. I like the Osamu Tezuka influence here.

another Japanese version also covered by Hungry Tiger Talk with more robotic looking, super evil looking Wheelers, lol.

also as far as illustration, there's this old Italian edition of Ozma of Oz.

not exactly the most menacing looking Wheeler but he does have a fancy embroidered jacket.

and Billina has an adorable bonnet!

anyway that's all for now, at least.

[itsbensart]

Unspoken Doubts

Pairing: Fiyero Tigelaar x Male Reader | Part 3

Summary: Y/N’s success in the semester, thanks to Fiyero’s support, leads to an invitation to the Ozdust Ball. As they share a dance, Y/N’s internal doubts cause him to pull away from Fiyero without explanation, leaving both of them heartbroken and uncertain of where they stand.

Warnings: Emotional distress, Unspoken love, Self-doubt and insecurity, Sudden emotional withdrawal, Vulnerability in moments of intimacy, Themes of rejection, Angst, and Heartbreak.

Word Count: 2,000 words (approximately)

Y/N couldn’t recall the last time someone had made studying feel less like a chore and more like an adventure. Fiyero had that uncanny ability, infusing even the driest topics with his playful charm and relentless optimism. Between the teasing remarks about Y/N’s obsessive highlighting and exaggerated groans during all-nighters, Fiyero had somehow turned their late-night grind into a source of laughter.

“You know,” Fiyero mused one evening, sprawled out on Y/N’s couch with a textbook resting precariously on his chest, “I don’t think this semester would’ve been half as fun without me.”

Y/N snorted, looking up from his notes. “You mean ‘half as distracting.’ You’ve got more commentary than this entire book.”

“Hey, I’m a multitasker,” Fiyero replied, smirking. “I can distract and inspire at the same time.”

Y/N rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. For all his antics, Fiyero had been a lifeline, keeping him afloat during moments of doubt and burnout.

But their dynamic wasn’t one-sided. When Fiyero’s own struggles surfaced, Y/N was there, unwavering.

Fiyero, for all his confidence and charm, had his academic Achilles’ heels—anything involving numbers, formulas, or rigid logic was enough to make his head spin. One night, as he sat hunched over a mock exam for his math class, his normally easygoing demeanor faltered.

“Y/N,” he groaned, dragging his hands through his hair, “I swear this stuff is designed to break my spirit.”

“Math isn’t out to get you,” Y/N teased, pulling up a chair beside him. “You just need to look at it differently.”

Fiyero sighed dramatically. “Unless you’ve got magic powers, I don’t think that’s happening tonight.”

“Not magic,” Y/N said, leaning over to point at his paper. “Just patience. See here? You’re overthinking it. The equation isn’t as complicated as it looks—try breaking it into smaller parts.”

Under Y/N’s guidance, Fiyero’s furrowed brow slowly relaxed. His frustration gave way to cautious understanding, and after solving a particularly tricky problem, he beamed.

“Holy Oz, I actually did it,” he said, turning to Y/N with a mix of disbelief and gratitude. “You’re a miracle worker.”

“Hardly,” Y/N replied, smirking. “You just needed someone to explain it in a way that didn’t make your brain short-circuit.”

Fiyero leaned back in his chair, his smirk returning, though this time with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You know, if you keep being this amazing, I might have to...... reward you.”

Y/N froze, blinking. “R- Reward me?”

Fiyero leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, his tone dropping into something dangerously teasing. “Mm-hmm. Something special. Something... unforgettable.”

The heat rushed to Y/N’s face, his voice faltering. “I-I don’t need a reward!”

Fiyero laughed, clearly enjoying his reaction. “Don’t be so modest, Y/N. You’ve earned it. I mean, it’s not every day someone teaches me math and keeps their sanity intact.”

“I’m fine with just... knowing you passed,” Y/N mumbled, his cheeks burning. He buried his head in his notes, wishing the couch would swallow him whole.

The truth was, for all of Fiyero’s teasing, Y/N didn’t mind the attention. It left his heart racing, even if his mind screamed at him to brush it off.

Their late-night study sessions became a two-way street. Fiyero would lift Y/N’s spirits during moments of exhaustion, and Y/N would ground Fiyero when the weight of his challenges threatened to pull him under. It was an unspoken exchange of support, a rhythm they fell into naturally.

And somewhere in the midst of equations, essays, endless plates, and scaled models, Y/N began to notice the moments in between. The way Fiyero’s face lit up when he finally grasped a difficult concept. The way he’d absentmindedly drum his fingers on the table whenever he was deep in thought. The way his laughter filled the room, warm and contagious.

It wasn’t just admiration. It was a spark—quiet at first but growing steadily, warming parts of Y/N he hadn’t realized were cold.

What is this? Y/N thought, his pulse quickening as the realization began to settle. It’s nothing. Just... he’s just a good friend. He shook his head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung stubbornly, refusing to be dismissed.

He tried to ignore it. He told himself it was nothing, just gratitude for Fiyero’s friendship. He’s just being nice. That’s what Fiyero does—he’s charming with everyone. This isn’t special. It doesn’t mean anything.

But every time their hands brushed, his breath hitched, and the warmth of Fiyero’s touch lingered far longer than it should. Stop it. You’re overthinking. It’s just an accident.

Every time Fiyero shot him a mischievous grin, Y/N’s heart betrayed him, skipping a beat before thudding painfully in his chest. Why does he have to smile like that? Like he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.

And every time Fiyero leaned in a little too close to explain something, his voice low and his presence all-consuming, Y/N found himself unable to focus, his thoughts spiraling. Don’t look at his lips. Don’t look at his lips. Just... focus. Please.

The spark flared, undeniable and terrifying, no matter how much he tried to extinguish it. This can’t happen. I can’t feel this way.

Not about him.

.....

By the end of the semester, they had both overcome their struggles—Y/N had passed his classes, and Fiyero had conquered his math demons. It should’ve been a moment of pure relief, but for Y/N, it was anything but simple.

Sitting together on the campus, in their usual resting place in an oak tree, the evening sun casting a golden glow over them, Fiyero turned to him with a smile that made Y/N’s heart race.

“You did it,” Fiyero said, nudging him lightly. “And you know what that means?”

Y/N raised a brow, pretending not to know. “Let me guess. You want a thank-you speech?”

Fiyero laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Nope. I want to celebrate. You’re coming to the Ozdust Ball with me tonight.”

Y/N froze, his pulse quickening. “The Ozdust Ball?”

“Yes, the Ozdust Ball,” Fiyero repeated, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “You’ve worked yourself off all semester. You deserve a night to let loose. And who better to drag you out of your comfort zone than me?”

Despite his reservations, Y/N found himself agreeing. He didn’t know if it was Fiyero’s infectious enthusiasm or the way his eyes seemed to light up at the prospect of them spending the evening together.

What he did know was that being around Fiyero felt…different. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, like standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure whether to leap or retreat."

.....

The Ozdust Ball was an extravagant affair, yes, but it was no ordinary celebration. The grand ballroom, tucked away in the heart of Oz’s hidden district, pulsed with energy, its walls vibrating with a sound that was more jazz than waltz—more raw and rebellious than refined. Lanterns floated lazily through the ceiling of the underground landscape, casting soft glows over the guests, their faces lit by a dangerous mix of wonder and defiance. The instruments played, laced with dissonance, stirring something wild in the air. It was a place where nothing seemed quite real, yet everything felt more alive than ever—a place where the rules didn’t just bend; they broke.

Y/N stood at the edge of the ballroom, feeling more like an outsider than ever. The dancers twirled around him, their movements free, unrestrained. They were all part of something illicit—something forbidden, yet utterly intoxicating. His heart raced, not just from the unfamiliarity of the scene but because of Fiyero, whose presence beside him seemed to throw him off balance. There was admiration, yes, but also something deeper—something more overwhelming. Fiyero’s gaze lingered on him with an intensity that felt like a silent challenge, a daring invitation into a world Y/N wasn’t sure he was ready for.

Fiyero’s smile was mischievous, almost daring as he extended his hand. "Dance with me?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of a promise—dangerous and sweet.

Y/N hesitated, the words swirling in his mind like the chaotic energy around him. But something pulled at him—something magnetic. He placed his hand in Fiyero’s, feeling the spark of contact, and together, they stepped onto the dance floor. The music swirled around them, and the rhythm was infectious. Fiyero led him effortlessly, his hand on Y/N’s waist firm, yet his touch made everything feel electric.

“You’ve worked so hard for this moment,” Fiyero murmured, his voice warm, but there was an edge to it—an undercurrent of something more, something like rebellion. “I’m proud of you, Y/N, and tonight, you deserve to celebrate everything you’ve become.”

But Y/N couldn’t focus on Fiyero’s words. His thoughts were a tangled mess of uncertainty, the constant tug of conflicting emotions—his doubts, his fears, and the intense, overwhelming pull toward Fiyero.

What if this isn’t right? The question gnawed at him. What if I’m not enough for him?

The tension between them grew as the music slowed, the movement becoming less structured, more intimate. Fiyero pulled him closer, the space between them closing until all Y/N could feel was the heat of Fiyero’s body and the pulse of the music beneath his skin.

Fiyero’s voice dropped lower, a whisper now, but filled with urgency. “Y/N, I need to say this before I lose the chance.”

Y/N’s heart pounded in his chest, his breath catching.

Fiyero pulled Y/N slightly closer, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with emotion. “You mean so much to me. More than I can even say. I don’t just want this dance. I want all of them. Every single one, for the rest of my life. I want to tease you, to make you blush, to see you smile like this forever. I want it all—with you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened as the weight of Fiyero’s words settled over him like a heavy fog. The moment felt surreal, his mind spinning. He wasn’t ready for this. How can I give him what he wants when I don’t even understand myself?

The doubts clung to him like a thick, suffocating cloud. What if I hurt him? What if I don’t know how to love him?

The music continued, but it sounded distant now, drowned out by the racing of his heart. He felt the pull of Fiyero’s gaze, but all he could do was shut himself off further.

What if I ruin this?

The air around him seemed to shift, the dreamlike atmosphere of the ball turning dark, suffocating, as his pulse quickened. Without warning, he pulled away, his voice breaking as he muttered, “I… I can’t.”

Fiyero’s brow furrowed, concern etched across his face. “Y/N?”

But Y/N couldn’t stay. He turned abruptly, the sound of his footsteps echoing across the polished floor as he fled the ballroom. The celebration, which had seemed so magical, now felt hollow and distant, fading into the background as Y/N’s heart pounded louder in his ears.

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The chaos inside him was louder than anything else—louder than the music, louder than Fiyero’s hurt.

Back in his room, Y/N sank to the floor, his chest tight. I don’t know what I’m doing, he thought, the weight of the moment heavy on him. I don’t know how to love him.

Meanwhile, Fiyero stood frozen in the center of the ballroom, the noise of the celebration surrounding him, but all he could hear was the silence left in Y/N’s wake. The moment had been stolen, leaving him alone and empty. The intensity of what had just transpired felt like an unanswered question hanging in the air.

Was it me? he wondered. Did I push him too far? But the answers were nowhere to be found.

The ball, with all its illicit allure and hidden promises, had lost its magic. Fiyero was left standing there, consumed by the ache of unanswered questions and the pain of rejection, unsure if Y/N would ever come back—or if he had just lost him forever.

To be Continued

[sjsmith56]

Freckles

Summary: Current Congressman Bucky Barnes remembers growing up with his younger sister.

Length: 4.2 K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, George Barnes, Winnie Barnes, Rebecca Barnes, Richard Proctor (Rebecca’s son), OCC (Richard’s granddaughter).

Warnings: Childbirth dangers in the 1930s, emotional memories, loss of a sibling, loss of a parent. The ending is quite sweet.

Author notes: If you follow me, you know that I recently lost a brother.  I often deal with emotional issues by writing what I feel.  This story came from that.  There is little to no canon involving Rebecca Barnes Proctor, so I made up her date of birth.  Some sources say she had two children, Richard and Sarah, while others say she was childless.   In my own family, I was the one who had freckles, having inherited the red hair, blue eyes and fair skin of my father.  It was a source of teasing between my siblings and me.  I like to think that Bucky was more understanding with his sister.

🪒📱💔

After all that Bucky Barnes had been through, he was still somewhat amazed that he could recall the time when his sister Rebecca was born. It was June 1930, school was just let out for the summer, and he hadn't even known his mother was pregnant. With the collapse of Wall Street in the fall of 1929, and the fear of his father losing his job at the naval yards, Bucky had focused on picking up odd jobs with Steve Rogers to help keep their families afloat. He returned from one such opportunity, cleaning out a storeroom at the green grocers for a nickel apiece, to his father making supper for both of them, comprised of beans, bacon and eggs.

"Where's Ma?" he asked, as she was always a presence in the house.

His dad spooned some beans on the plates, where several burnt slices of bacon and a rather gummy looking egg sat forlornly. He served Bucky, then himself, and sat on his chair at the head of the table.

"Your ma's in hospital, having a baby," he said, picking up his knife and fork. "She'll be there a few days so it's just you and me till she's ready to come home."

"A baby? How'd she get a baby?" Bucky looked at the unappetizing meal then up at his dad, at how he didn't even look back at his son. "You put a baby into Ma?"

He obviously had some idea of where they came from. George Barnes sighed, then looked at his son.

"It's what married people do. Have babies. Your ma had you, then we tried to have more but they didn't develop right. This one decided it was time to be born so I came home from work and took her to the hospital. Now eat your supper. The baby should be born by morning, and we can go see if it's a boy or girl."

There were more questions on Bucky's lips, but his dad gave him a look that said he would answer no more questions and Bucky let it drop. His dad could only tolerate so many questions before he lost his temper, and he still packed a wallop. Together, they cleaned up and while Bucky read a book his father visited one of their neighbours coming back with a small cradle, some baby clothing, diapers and bottles. He explained that they were going to borrow them later, but the baby was early. Fortunately, the neighbours weren't still using them for their youngest.

The next morning, he could hear his dad on the telephone in the kitchen, talking in a low voice. Coming out of his room in his pyjama bottoms and a T-shirt, Bucky stood, rubbing his eyes, listening from the landing at the top of the stairs.

"A girl? 5 pounds, 12 oz. That's small, isn't it?" There was silence. "How is my wife?" More silence, then a barely audible single word before another question. "Damn. How long will she have to stay in?" He could hear the shift of his dad's feet, then his final words. "I'll get the money. Somehow, I'll get the money."

Silently, he stepped down a bit to where he could see his dad, wondering how bad it was. George Barnes was just standing in front of the telephone, with a look on his face that Bucky had never seen before. It frightened him and he wondered what had happened to make his dad look like this. He must have moved, as the particular part of the stairs he was on creaked because his dad suddenly came to where he could look at him, and the worried expression he had before was replaced by something different, something not quite believable.

"How's Ma?"

For a moment George Barnes was going to lie and say something positive but by the look on his son's face it was obvious the boy had heard enough to know that something went wrong.

"She lost a lot of blood and needs to get some rest. You have a sister, a little girl. Your ma always wanted a little girl." He took in a deep breath. "She's too weak for us to see today so I'm going to work, and I'll have to take some extra shifts to pay the hospital bills." He fixed his gaze on Bucky. "She's going to need a lot of help from you this summer. I need you to promise to help your mother as much as possible. Can you do that?"

The boy nodded, his stomach a mass of conflicting emotions; fear, confusion, and even a little jealous that he wouldn't be the focus of his mother's attention anymore, but the way his dad looked at him, seared through his soul.

"Yes sir, I'll help Ma. What's the baby's name?"

"Rebecca. Her name is Rebecca."

Bucky and his father did go to see them the following day. His dad came home from work, quickly bathed and put on his Sunday suit, making sure Bucky was dressed nicely. They took the subway to the hospital, then checked in at the desk in the reception area. They were directed to the second floor where they waited in a large room, along with several other men, all of them scrubbed clean and wearing their Sunday suits. By the number of men there Bucky wondered how many babies had been born that week. A nurse, wearing a white starched uniform and a stiff cap on her head came out, warning all of them that they had to be quiet as the mothers were very tired after the ordeal of giving birth. The babies would be in a nursery, and they could hold up a card with their child's name printed on it against the window to see their newborn son or daughter. She eyed Bucky suspiciously.

"How old is the boy?"

"13," said George, firmly. "He'll be helping his ma look after things during the summer. He's old enough to be here."

"Hmmm," was her hummed response but she allowed Bucky to enter.

He followed his dad down the hallway to a ward with five beds along each side. The place was stark, and smelled of antiseptic, which turned his stomach a little. To Bucky, it wasn't a good place to be sick. Then he saw his mother and almost ran out to the street. She looked terrible; her face was pale and tired. She was thin, too thin and there seemed to be a fragility about her that he had never noticed before. Smiling at his dad, she accepted a kiss on the cheek from him, then he sat on the nearest chair. Bucky waited at the foot of the bed.

"Don't I get a kiss from you?" she asked, teasingly. "Are you too old to show some affection to your ma?"

Hesitantly, he came closer, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek. She took his hands in hers and the first thing he noticed was how cold she was. He must have reacted to it because she just smiled kindly at him, in a reassuring way.

"How are you?" asked George, trying to sound strong.

"I've been better," she admitted. "She was almost too early, and it took a lot out of me. But she's feisty and she drinks everything they give her." Her face winced with distress. "My milk didn't come in, so she'll have to be bottle fed."

"We'll manage," he said. "I already picked up some things from the neighbours. We'll get some of that new baby formula they're talking about. It's full of vitamins and will make her strong." He leaned forward and squeezed her hand. "Just as long as you're okay."

She nodded, then glanced at Bucky before looking back at her husband. "The doctor says I shouldn't have any more babies. Losing two before her and then her coming early is too much for me. He thinks my body can't carry another baby."

"Okay, we'll figure something out," said George, not wanting to discuss it in front of their son.

They were only there for about 15 minutes, then his mother sighed and told them she was tired.

"Go see her," she said. "Even though she's tiny, she's so pretty."

The card for George to use was beside the bed and he picked it up, then kissed his wife again, holding onto her hand as if he didn't want to let it go. Bucky watched, seeing something he rarely saw between his parents; like an unspoken language said with their eyes. When his mother shifted her gaze to him, her expression changed again to something warm and soft.

"I'll be home soon, and we'll get back to normal," she promised. "You're a big brother now and that comes with a lot of responsibility, but I know you can do it, Bucky. No matter what happens to your father and me, Rebecca will always have you to watch out for her. I just know it."

It sounded daunting but he just smiled and kissed his mother, then he followed his dad to the nursery, where a long glass window looked into a small sea of bassinets, each one of them holding a baby, swaddled securely in a blanket. Several men were already there, some with older children, looking at a particular bassinet that had been wheeled to the window. Some of them looked terrified at the prospect of being a father, but others were more demonstrative, making sounds to attract their child's attention even though the window would have masked any sound coming through.

George made eye contact with a nurse, placing the name card against the glass, then watching as she found Rebecca in the room, wheeled the bassinet over and left it in front of them. She was tiny, her little head barely poking out from where she was cocooned in the warmth of the pink blanket they wrapped her in. Her skin, a pinky red in colour, looked nothing like Bucky expected. She certainly didn't look pretty to him.

"She's beautiful," murmured his father. When she lazily opened one eye, he grinned. "Look at that, she knows my voice." Then his voice caught a little. "The two babies your mother lost were little girls. We have to make sure Rebecca grows up strong, you understand?" He was looking at Bucky now, his face intense in its gaze. "Promise that if anything happens to me, you'll take care of your ma and your sister."

With a quick nod, Bucky murmured. "I promise."

🪒

That memory almost made Bucky cry at that moment, with his hand holding his razor as he shaved around his beard. He took several breaths, calming himself. Today, of all days, he had to be strong, for Rebecca. It was what he promised so long ago and he wasn't going to break that promise today. With several deep breaths, he finished shaving the open skin on his face and neck, feeling the smooth skin underneath his fingertips, as he searched for any elusive stubble that had escaped the razor. Then he looked at himself in the mirror, using a warm, wet facecloth to remove the remaining shave cream and took some after shave balm in his palm, applying it evenly over his warm skin.

In the bedroom, his underwear was laid out and he slipped them on, then came the dress shirt. He watched himself in the mirror as he buttoned it up, bringing another memory, damn it. Suppressing the urge to push it back down he allowed it to bloom and once again was transported back to his past, this time it was when he was 18.

"Why do men shave?"

Almost five-year-old Rebecca sat on the edge of the bathtub, watching her brother as he prepared for his graduation ceremony.

"Because men grow beards," he replied, wincing as he cut himself a little. He picked up the styptic pencil and held it to the little nick, then looked sideways at her. "Stop distracting me."

"Sorry." She sighed, then shifted so she was beside him. "Do women shave? Do they grow beards?"

"Some do," he answered. "You've seen the bearded lady at the fair. Looked like a beard to me." He finished, rinsed his face, then studied it, turning his head one way, then another before facing her. "I think I'm done. What do you think?"

She nodded her head, and he opened his father's Old Spice aftershave, pouring a little into his palm, then quickly applying it to his skin, bracing himself for the pain of the alcohol getting into his numerous nicks. His sister grinned at his discomfort, then looked thoughtfully at him.

"What are you going to do now that you've finished school?"

"Work at the docks, I guess." He smiled at her. "Dad talked to the foreman. Won't see you as much but I'll still be home in the evenings and on weekends."

"No, you won't. You'll find a girlfriend."

"Maybe, but you'll always be my best girl, Freckles. That will never change."

He rubbed the top of her head, then cleaned up the sink, using his fingers to make sure all the fine beard hairs he just shaved off went down the drain. Entering his room, he shooed Rebecca away from following him, as he had to put his Sunday suit on, even though it was already too tight on him. They couldn't afford to get him a special suit for his graduation. Not that it mattered, most of his graduation class didn't get a new outfit for the ceremony. Times were still tough.

Coming down the stairs with his tie in hand, he was about to call to his mother for help with that, then saw his father in the parlour. Looking up at his son, George Barnes rose, offering to take the tie.

"Let me help you with that," he said, shaking his head. "I wish we could have bought you a new suit. You seemed to grow so much this past year. Once you start working, you'll grow more. I guarantee it. Bud Welch said you can start Monday at the docks." He wrapped the tie around itself then inserted the fat end into the loop, snugging it up under Bucky's chin. "I tried to get you on my crew, but they think I'll go easy on you, so you'll be with Marty Wiklowsky. As long as you give him your respect, he'll treat you fairly."

He stepped back, looking critically at Bucky's appearance then smiled and shook his hand.

"Thanks Dad, for the tie and getting me the job. I won't let you down."

"I know. You're a good man, Bucky. If you can put aside some money maybe you can go to college some day."

They were interrupted by the arrival of his mother and Rebecca. Winnie, wearing a dress with a small floral print on it, smiled shyly at her husband's appreciative gaze. Then she looked critically at Bucky.

"I swear, you grew several inches this past year. I wish we could have put money aside for a new suit, but the way you're still growing you'd be out of it in no time."

"That's okay, Ma," answered Bucky. "Once I start working, I can buy my own clothes. You can save for Freckle's wardrobe. In ten more years, she'll have a line of boys outside the door wanting dates."

"No! I hate boys. They're stinky."

She looked up at her older brother, half irritated, half adoring. Bucky was the only boy she loved. Steve was the only other boy who even rated her respect and that's only because he was also like a brother to her. George went next door to borrow the neighbour's camera, returning to take a picture of Bucky, Winnie and Rebecca, then showing his daughter how to take one so that he could pose with his son and wife. When the neighbour got the film developed a month later, that picture was blurry but the one with Bucky, his mother and sister was perfect.

📱

Years later that image was shared with Bucky, and he looked at it now, on his cell phone, as he waited in the gathering room at the funeral home, along with other members of his sister's family. There were still others to come, gathering together privately, to comfort each other before the service. They were all there for Rebecca Barnes Proctor, sister, wife, mother, grandmother, and great-grandmother, the matriarch of their extended family. The emotions inside him churned up again and Bucky swallowed hard, trying to stay stoic. Then, Richard, his oldest nephew, entered and the grief on his face sent the super soldier reeling. A dam of emotion flooded through him, sending him out an exit, blindly rushing through it, the tears no longer holding back.

In the alley behind the funeral home, Bucky leaned forward against the wall, pressing his head against the sleeve of his arm that he braced himself with. He wept, for the unfairness of only having his sister back for such a short time in their long lives.

In his mind, he pictured Rebecca as she was in June 1943, just turned 13. It was before he was to board a troop ship to England. The day he had been dreading had finally arrived. Apparently, it had affected his sister as well. She had been clinging to him, a lot, in the week before his departure date, asking him to go to the movies with her, or to take her to Coney Island, or any other activity that she suggested. He was trying to drown his anxiety at going to war by going out every night with a different girl, drinking, dancing, having the type of fun that you didn't share with your younger sister. The night of the Stark Expo was the night she blew up at him, when she saw him in his dress uniform, his face closely shaved, looking every bit the debonair ladies' man that he had become.

"You don't care about me," she cried, her eyes red and puffy. "You promised to spend time with me but instead you've been out with a different girl every night. I thought I was your best girl."

"Freckles, you don't understand," he started, trying to be patient.

"Don't call me that!" she exploded. "Freckles are ugly. I hate them and I hate this war that's going to take you away from me."

At first, anger clouded his reaction then he saw the fear in her eyes and felt his mood dissipate, as he wondered if it was something deeper that was frightening her.

"Hey, what's going on? What's got you in a tizzy?"

"Why do you have to go?"

"I got drafted. It's the law. The war needs me."

"I need you. Who's going to protect me when you're gone? Steve?"

"Ma and Dad will protect you, just like they always have." He cupped her face with his hands. "We'll write and you can tell me anything in the letters."

"But you won't be here."

"I know and I'm sorry but that's how it is."

"What if ... what if you get hurt or ...?"

"If it happens, it happens, Freckles. There's nothing I can do about it if it's my time." She sobbed, looking down at her feet. "Do you know why I call you Freckles?" Sniffing loudly, she shook her head. "It's because I love them. They're the best part of you."

"Why?"

He smiled fondly at her.

"Because they remind me of days on the beach at Coney Island, of the sun lighting up the wisps of hair that come out of your braids, and they remind me of home, where you are. I love you, Rebecca, from the moment you first smiled at me when I held you as a baby. I'm coming home from this war, and you might be a young woman then. I'll barely know you, but I'll always love you."

"I love you, too," she whispered, then wrapped her arms around him, squeezing him as hard as she could. "Be careful."

"Always," he answered.

💔

"Uncle Buck, are you alright?" He looked up to see the face of his nephew, Richard. His blue eyes, a match for his own, were red with grief but also full of sympathy and understanding. "I had my own breakdown as I was getting ready. Thought she would live forever."

"Yeah, me too." Bucky reached inside his jacket, bringing out a handkerchief and wiping his eyes. "I missed out on so much."

"You both did but when you resurfaced, she was so happy that you were still alive. She didn't care about what they said you did because she knew that you weren't that man."

"I still did those things."

"Yeah, but she knew that deep down where it counted her brother would never do that if he had a choice. Now you're a congressman and she was so proud of you, for what you've done with your life. We all are."

He offered his hand, then pulled Bucky into a hug, reassuring his uncle that he had a place in this family forever. Together, they returned into the funeral home. They filed out of the gathering room, taking their place in the first few rows of the chapel. The funeral was more of a celebration of her life, with smiles, laughter, and crying over the woman who had meant so much to all of them. At the interment ceremony Bucky was surprised when one of Richard's grandchildren, eight-year-old Chloe, sat next to him and reached for his left hand, just before the officiant began speaking. He watched as she examined it, then looked up at him, squinting in the sunlight.

"I like your hand."

"Thank you. It works pretty well."

She nodded and looked forward as the service began. When it came time to say goodbye, she held on to his hand again as they both approached the casket with a pink rose. Chloe put hers on first, then addressed the casket.

"Goodbye, Nana," she said softly. "I'll miss you and all of your stories."

She waited while Bucky stepped forward. Aware of her presence, he placed his rose on top then took a noticeable breath.

"Well, Freckles, I guess this is the end of the road for us," he said quietly. "I still remember seeing you at the hospital just after you were born. You were early so you weren't very big, but Ma said you were feisty, and you were. I'm sorry that I wasn't there for you when things went wrong but at least we got the last few years together and I'll never forget that. I love you, Freckles, always."

Despite all the emotional moments during the day, right now he felt grateful that they were able to reconnect, and he got to know his nephew and nieces and their families. A tug on his jacket brought him out of his reverie and he looked down to see Chloe, looking up at him.

"What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, as they moved aside for other family members.

"Why did you call Nana Freckles?"

He kneeled down so he was at eye level with her, studying her face. With a smile, he noticed she had several freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks. Her manner was so sweet and even though she didn't have the same hair colour of her great grandmother as a girl, she did have the blue eyes and reminded him of Rebecca in many ways.

"Because she had them, and I liked them. I like your freckles too."

"Sometimes kids make fun of my freckles. They say my face is dirty."

"That's not nice. Freckles remind me of going to the beach with my family and playing in the sun and the sand. My mother always told your nana that every freckle was an angel's kiss."

Chloe beamed. As Bucky stood up, she took his hand again, and they waited as the rest of the family said their goodbyes. When they made their way to the limousines that would take them to the luncheon, Chloe let go of Bucky's hand for a moment, then ran to her parents and asked them something. They both smiled at her and nodded their heads, before making eye contact with Bucky. Running back to him, she took his left hand again.

"My mom and dad said I can go to the other place for the lunch with you. Is that alright, Uncle Bucky?"

"It would be my pleasure ... Freckles."

Several photographs of the super soldier / current congressman with his great grandniece were taken that day by paparazzi. Bucky Barnes was still newsworthy, after all. Some of the more cynical newspapers that published it claimed it was a staged photo opportunity, designed to make the former assassin come across as more human. But to Chloe Proctor, that was the day she learned what her great grandmother had learned back in the 1930s; that Bucky Barnes was a kind man, with a good heart, who loved his family dearly and would be there for them and her when it was needed. He also gave her a way to deal with bullies; not with her fists, but with words, and a belief in herself as a person. She carried that belief for the rest of her life.

One Shots Masterlist

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[dream2bu]

Ingredients:

1 lb (450g) beef stew meat, cut into small cubes

2 tbsp olive oil

1 onion, diced

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 celery stalks, diced

1 cup (200g) pearl barley

2 carrots, diced

6 cups (1.5L) beef broth

1 cup (240ml) water (optional, for a thinner consistency)

1 tsp dried thyme

Salt and pepper to taste

1 cup (150g) chopped mushrooms (optional)

2 tbsp chopped fresh parsley for garnish

1 can (14.5 oz or 410g) diced tomatoes

1 bay leaf

Directions:

Prepare the Beef:

Warm the olive oil in a large pot or Dutch oven over medium-high heat. Place the beef cubes in the pot, season with salt and pepper, and sear until browned on all sides, approximately 5-7 minutes. Take the browned beef out of the pot and set it aside for later.

Cook the Vegetables:

In the same pot, add the onions, garlic, carrots, celery, and mushrooms (if using). Cook the vegetables for 5-6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they start to soften.

Combine Ingredients:

Return the browned beef to the pot. Add the barley, beef broth, water (if using), diced tomatoes, bay leaf, and thyme. Stir well.

Simmer:

Cook the vegetables for 5-6 minutes, stirring occasionally, until they start to soften.. Cover and let it simmer for 1-1.5 hours, or until the beef is tender and the barley is cooked. Stir occasionally.

Season and Serve:

Adjust seasoning with salt and pepper as needed. Remove the bay leaf. Serve hot, garnished with fresh parsley.

Serving and Storage Tips:

Serving: This soup is best served with crusty bread or a side salad. It’s even more flavorful the next day after the flavors meld together.

Storage: Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 4 days. Once the soup reaches a boil, lower the heat to a simmer. Reheat on the stove or in the microwave.

Tips for Success:

Use Quality Beef: Opt for beef stew meat or a cut like chuck roast for tender results.

Brown the Beef: Don’t skip browning the beef, as it adds depth to the soup’s flavor.

Soak the Barley: If you have time, soak the barley for a few hours before cooking to reduce cooking time and ensure even tenderness.

Customize the Vegetables: Add potatoes, parsnips, or green beans for extra heartiness.

Health Benefits:

Rich in Fiber: Barley is a good source of dietary fiber, which supports digestion and helps maintain steady blood sugar levels.

Protein-Packed: Beef provides a significant amount of protein, supporting muscle repair and growth.

Loaded with Vitamins and Minerals: The vegetables contribute vitamins A, C, and K, along with minerals like potassium and iron.

Low-Fat Option: This soup is naturally low in fat, especially if you choose lean cuts of beef.

Nutritional Information (per serving):

Calories: 350

Protein: 25g

Fat: 10g

Carbohydrates: 40g

Fiber: 8g

Sodium: 650mg

Variations and Substitutions:

Vegetarian Version: For a vegetarian option, skip the beef and use vegetable broth instead. Add beans or lentils for protein.

Gluten-Free Option: Substitute the barley with quinoa or rice for a gluten-free alternative.

Spicy Kick: Add a pinch of red pepper flakes or a dash of hot sauce for a bit of heat.

Herb Swaps: Try rosemary or oregano in place of thyme for a different flavor profile.

[lezforsapphicwrites]

𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓶𝔂 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓾𝓽 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓴𝓮𝓮𝓹 𝓲𝓽

pairing: elphaba thropp x glinda upland word count: 1.4K warnings: angst, character death (fake), mentions of death & murder summary: for the first time, glinda looks back and takes her second chance with elphaba. but when she returns, she is already too late.

The grimmerie was pressed tightly into her palms, the edge of the thick cover close to making a cut.

She shouldn't have left, Glinda thought. They had talked things through and found forgiveness in each other's faults. There was a reason to stay so why didn't she? Why did she heed Elphie's words and fled with the damn book that had no use to her?!

No. She won't be torn away from Elphaba anymore. Glinda had finally been given a second chance to fix things and she will take it this time.

Glinda turned around, making her way back to Elphaba's castle with a hopeful smile. "Just wait and see, Elphie." She mumbled to herself. "We'll make it work."

The twisting dark hallways looked less daunting with how much the excitement in her body had made her giddy. She began to imagine the look of surprise and relief on Elphie's face at her return. The so-called "Wicked Witch" may be scary to the land of Oz but Glinda only knew the girl most deserving of all the love. And love she will do so, until the end of their days.

Then, she heard a scream. Her scream.

One of pain.

No… Elphie.

Her hand instantly dropped the grimmerie and ran to the source of the sound. Frustration bubbling inside her when she couldn't find it. Damn, these echoing walls!

The sounds of pain continued as her chest constricted with each passing second. Glinda knew it was her Elphie and it hurt her more than any sword to hear her in pain. But where could she be?

The throne room!

She grabbed her dress high and tight as she ran faster than she had ever done. It was quiet now and somehow that was worse.

Glinda arrived at the room, freezing at the sight before her. The farm girl held a bucket, unsure and scared, surrounded by her friends — the lion, the scarecrow, and the tin man — who were happily cheering. In front of them was a small puddle of water, most likely from the bucket, that was around an object she couldn't quite make out due to the darkness.

She needed to get closer to confirm so she swallowed the lump in her throat and fixed her dress. With the best look of confusion she could muster, she approached the group. "What has happened?" She asked in a, thankfully, steady voice.

The man made of tin turned to her with a wide smile. "Dorothy has done it!" He cheered. "She has killed the witch!"

The Witch. Killed.

Beside him, Dorothy looked conflicted and teary-eyed. "I didn't mean to…" She pleaded to Glinda, almost as if she knew what Elphaba meant to her. But that was impossible. They kept it a secret. Too well that no one would ever knew the agony she was feeling inside at that moment.

Tin Man was reassuring the girl that what she had done was good. Glinda had half a mind not to strangle him dead. What was good about murdering a woman that only wanted to help? The woman who saved the very lion with them as a cub. At least, the Scarecrow had the empathy to look a bit sad.

Glinda took another deep breath and forced a smile. "Why don't you continue your merry way to Emerald City to meet the Wizard? I'm sure he'll be happy to hear about this and reward you with a makeover. I shall let the Ozians know of your… braverism." She encouraged, ushering them to the exit.

The group gladly walked away and began talking about what to wish from the Wizard. As if he could grant it. The only one left was the girl, Dorothy, who set the bucket down gently and moved closer.

She held Glinda's hand. "I'm sorry," she cried. "I didn't think she would- I thought- It was just water! It wasn't meant to kill her! I meant to throw it as a distraction-"

Glinda stopped her, giving her a genuine smile of assurance. "It is alright, little one. Why are you apologizing?"

"Because she was your lover."

Glinda paused and met the child's eyes that knew more than she had thought.

"I heard from the basement. You loved her dearly and she loved you just the same." Dorothy paused, bowing her head. "And I took her away from you… I'm sorry."

The blonde-haired witch couldn't utter a response. It was easy to pretend when no one couldn't guess the truth. But in front of the only other person who knew? Her masked crumbled as a tear fell. She could only nod as a reply.

Was it forgiveness? Hardly. The death of her lover was a fresh wound in her heart that she will never heal. Maybe she was nodding as a sign of thanks. For at least being remorseful of her crime. But she could not bring to forgive her wife's killer.

Dorothy smiled apologetically and squeezed her hand one last time, before leaving the witch by herself.

Glinda turned her gaze back to the puddle of water and the object she had noticed earlier. Her legs felt weak, pushing it to walk as she prayed to whatever real power was watching her. Please, please, please, please…

She finally had a clear view of the black hat and her knees gave out underneath her. It was Elphie's hat. The hat that Glinda's grandmother had made. The same one that she had given to Elphie as a cruel prank, which turned to be the start of their friendship and love. Her body shook as she sobbed.

Then, she began to scream.

She screamed for how unfair the world was. How one lie had turned a kind soul into the source of children's fear. How love was taken from her so suddenly, just as she was hoping to get it back.

Oh, how she wished she hadn't left. Hadn't been so obedient to follow Elphie's words. Maybe then she could've stopped that bucket from reaching the hands of that girl. Maybe then she wouldn't be in so much sorrow and grief. And maybe then she would still have the woman who owned her heart.

She blamed the Wizard for being untrue. She blamed Madame Morrible for spreading the horrible lies about Elphie. She blamed the people of Oz for believing them. Most of all, she blamed herself, for being too weak to stand with the truth.

Glinda remained kneeling on the floor, clawing on her chest as the tears fell faster. She wanted to tear her heart out, to end the intense pain that she felt from it and feel nothing. But that would mean forgetting the love she had for Elphaba. To feel nothing would mean erasing her Elphie's existence in this world and she loved her too much to do that.

With trembling hands, she carefully picked up the black hat and hugged it tightly, ignoring the water seeping into her clothes. It was the only thing she had left of her Elphie.

"Oh, Elphie," she cried, pressing her lips on the hat. "Please come back. I'll be better. I'll never leave you again. So, please, by some miracle that only your magic can bring, come back to me and we shall run away. Just you and me. No one has to know."

She gasped for air, not realizing she had held her breath with how much she was crying. A part of Glinda hoped that maybe the grief will break her heart into stopping and she can reunite with Elphie in the afterlife. But that didn't happen. Much to her disappointment. Instead, she stood up, still clutching the only thing that remained of the woman she loved, and wiped her tears.

Elphie had told her to keep up the farce of being 'Glinda the Good' and she will do so. But that didn't mean there will be no justice. The Wizard and Madame Morrible will pay for their crimes, she would make sure of that. Goodness be damned.

So, she shall continue to play the part she had done so for so long. She will tell the people of the Wicked Witch's death and become their symbol of goodness and hope.

But in secret, she will mourn the death of Elphaba Thropp, her wife.

As Glinda left, beneath the black, marbled floor, Elphaba let her tears fall in silence.

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