One of the deepest lies Luna has internalized is that she is a monster.
To her, every tragedy in her life is proof of that belief. She believes she is a monster for failing to protect Sirius (oCiel) from the cult, and for taking so long to return to him, only reuniting with him during the events of Book of Circus. She believes she was a monster for leaving Amilea after Lillianâs death, convincing herself that abandoning her friend makes her selfish and unforgivable. Later, after the deaths of her two children, she carries the unbearable belief that she was a terrible mother who failed the people she loved most. Underneath all of those experiences is an even older conviction: that simply being born a Shadowcat makes her something unnatural, dangerous, and undeserving of love. Every loss she experiences only reinforces that lie in her mind.
When Luna was younger, she believed another painful lie that she was nothing more than a chess piece to Sirius. She loved him with unwavering devotion, yet she convinced herself that he could never return those feelings in the same way. Growing up, she constantly internalized the idea that she was lesser because of her social status. The differences between her class and the Phantomhive family were repeatedly emphasized by those around her, and over time she accepted the belief that someone like Sirius could care for her as a loyal companion, but never see her as an equal. Even when he showed genuine affection, Luna struggled to believe it was real, always assuming there were limits to how much she was allowed to mean to him.
Those insecurities extend to how she sees her own body. Luna is plus-sized, and because her figure doesnât fit societyâs standards of beauty, she grows to see femininity as something she is incapable of embodying correctly. Rather than embracing herself, she hides beneath masculine-presenting clothing, tight corsets, and layers that flatten her silhouette. Her scars remain hidden whenever possible, as though exposing them would reveal the âmonsterâ she believes herself to be. Dressing femininely feels almost wrong to her not because she dislikes it, but because she believes she doesnât deserve to look beautiful or soft.
Over time, Luna also learns to suppress parts of her personality. She tempers her humor, her passion, her intensity, and even her grief, forcing herself to become agreeable, gentle, and accommodating because she believes that is what will make people accept her. As a Shadowcat, she already feels fundamentally different from humans, so she spends much of her life trying to mold herself into what she thinks others want. If she can be kind enough, quiet enough, useful enough, or human enough, then maybe no one will notice how out of place she feels.
Ironically, none of these beliefs are true. Luna is fiercely compassionate, deeply loyal, and capable of incredible love. Yet because she measures herself by every life she couldnât save rather than every person she has protected, she mistakes grief for guilt and survival for failure. The greatest lie she believes is not that she has done monstrous things it is that she herself is a monster, incapable of deserving the same love and grace she so freely gives to everyone else.
However, Luna begins to dismantle that lie piece by piece. It is neither a quick nor an easy journey, but with every hardship she survives and every person who loves her despite the parts she once believed made her unworthy, she slowly realizes that being different does not make her monstrous.
Instead of rejecting the title of âmonster,â she reclaims it. If the world insists that her existence as a Shadowcat, her scars, her body, and her strength make her a monster, then she decides she will be the kind of monster who protects rather than destroys. The word loses its power to wound her because she refuses to let society define what it means. She wears it like a medal of survival a reminder that despite everything she has endured, she is still standing.
As she grows older, Luna stops hiding herself. She no longer binds herself in corsets to erase her shape or buries her scars beneath layers of clothing. She allows herself to exist exactly as she is: plus-sized, scarred, powerful, feminine in her own way, and unapologetically a Shadowcat. She embraces every part of herself that the world once told her to be ashamed of, recognizing that none of those traits diminish her worth.
This change doesnât just transform Luna it shapes how she loves the people around her. Having spent so much of her life believing she had to earn love by becoming smaller, quieter, or more acceptable, she is determined that her children will never carry those same burdens. With her four surviving children, she constantly reminds them that there is nothing wrong with who they are. Whether they inherit her Shadowcat nature, their fatherâs traits, or something entirely their own, she encourages them to celebrate every part of themselves instead of hiding it. She wants them to grow up knowing they never have to apologize for existing.
She carried that same philosophy into her relationship with Sirius while he was alive. Whenever he doubted his own worth or allowed guilt to consume him, Luna became the voice reminding him that he was more than his failures, his title, or the expectations placed upon him. In many ways, she gave him the compassion she had spent years denying herself. It isnât until much later that she finally learns to turn those same words inward and believe them for herself.
Lunaâs greatest victory is not proving that she was never a monster. It is realizing that even if the world chooses to see her as one, she can still be loving, gentle, protective, and worthy of happiness. She learns that monsters can be mothers. Monsters can be heroes. Monsters can be loved. And if thatâs true, then perhaps she was never a monster at all only someone who survived a world determined to make her believe she was.
