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Red Makes You Blue

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Red Makes You Blue


You hated her so fucking much.

The ridiculous, hollow confidence that absolutely no one bought. How many times she seemed to feel the need to flip her goddamn hair. How god shittingly delusional she was.

Your bloodpusher flushed. You wanted to kiss her and cry for what you'd lost. For the only good part of you that died that night. For Ara-you can't even think the name right now (a drink first). For what could have been if she hadn't been so stupid.

You wanted to cry and you wanted her to be right there with you because as much as you wanted to think she was just an irredeemable psychopath, she'd lost her moirail then too. Because when you looked at the events as they transpired, you could understand everything she did (how badly did she damage my think sponge that night??).

Tavros wouldn't have made it on Alternia; he'd have been culled even if she hadn't walked him off a cliff, it was just a matter of time. Her training was sadistic and wrong footed, but it made sense (you know, in the same way everything in the Empire "makes sense").

It had taken you a long time to come to a place where you could evaluate Aradia's actions somewhat reasonably. She had said she wouldn't get revenge, she had promised. She tried it anyway.

Honestly, it was all too likely that she'd been coerced into it by those creepy voices in her head. And honestly, Aradia wouldn't have let Vriska go until she was insane or dead.

You still couldn't forgive though. It didn't matter how justified the action, a sacrifice only means something if there's pain. It can't be brushed aside by doing a fucking cost/benefit analysis.

She'd made a choice between her own sanity and life and yours and hers and she chose to save herself. It only makes sense. It was the only thing she could have reasonably done.

Fuck sense. Fuck everything. You need another drink.

And then by that point you were willing to do anything, perhaps just like Aradia was. TZ contacted you within the hour and asked for your help. Which didn't help.

In addition to losing a good portion of her friends, she lost and arm and seven of her eyes, Terezi was blind, and you tried to kill yourself shortly thereafter (only TZ coming to check up on you saved you. You were sort of grateful and sort of wanted to hate her too).

It was hard to hate a 4 sweep old for following the examples they were given. You still wanted to try. Anything to stop the red, burning heat you felt whenever you rolled her name over your tongue.


Because there was no moving past this, not together. There simply wasn't enough time in the universe for these wounds to heal.

You couldn't even fucking look at her; you felt fucking sick thinking about everything she fucked up. Even things she couldn't have known about. All the possibilities: wasted.

The more you thought about it, the more you thought yourself a monster for blaming a wriggler for only doing what she'd be indoctrinated and enslaved to do. Yet that instinctual fear of her wouldn't vanish. You knew what it felt like to have her crawling around the most intimate parts of yourself.

You were musing on all of this, floating a slightly more comfortable distance from your emotions due to your intoxication, when you turned to your drinking partner and said,

"Hey TZ. Let's overthrow the Empire."