#even more destructive than herself? INSANITY

[razables]

creation/destruction

[monards]

i fear that i don’t acknowledge enough the fact that i KNOW rhinedottir's evil !!! and she's horrible !!! and that she's wholly ireedamable !!! i know and love and respect that fact !!! i'd shoot myself in the frontal lobe if hoyo made her out to NOT be wholly evil !!!! but the reason i always go on and on and on about her humanity and complexity is because. SHE IS ALWAYS DUMBED DOWN !!!! TO JUST THAT !!!! it's literally the greatest and most moving theme (IN MY OPINION!!!) in genshin, that human beings are COMPLEX !!!! and they're MORE than just evil or bad or wtv. we see this through every character to almost ever be introduced to us -> literally just take arlecchino as an example. if anyone was at all paying attention to the discourse around her when the fontaine teaser dropped (and. 4.0 in general) it was the BIGGEST thing to watch people argue between "she's a harbinger, so she's clearly the most evil and the big antagonist of fontaine because of these accounts we have right now !!" versus the argument of "we've only seen ONE perspective of her so far, and it's no duh that all this stuff sucks -- but there's no way she's JUST gonna be all these horrible things,, because literally nobody to exist is just horrible and cruel with zero to no good in them. and also that'd make a shit narrative by hoyo in a story driven game" AND LOOK WHAT HAPPENED !!!! we saw !!! in REAL time !!! that while arlecchino was rightfully cruel and horrible and, yes the things she did were fucked up beyond belief and she should absolutely not be excused for any of it - she is NOT just evil ! she's shown to care, albeit in a fucked up way that only shows she's even more deranged ; but what's so incredibly important about her is the way that her being "evil" doesn't mean she's incapable of anything else. She is evil, yes— but so many of those evil actions have *motives* and *reasons* that explain them (but not excuse or condone!) and, although they don’t save her grace or anything of the sort, they DO show her true character. AND YHATS SO IMPORTANT!!!! She’s capable of being an antagonist while still being justified in some form, and given nuance and backstory and redeemable traits

I am !!! NEVER !!! going to say rhinedottir is a good person. she isn't! no shit sherlock ! how the fuck do you think im gonna go on and ignore the fact she sent both her kids to their deaths, and also fed one to another. dare i say, that is NOT anything good !!! suprise of the century !! woah !!! -- but what i AM gonna say is that she's much beyond that? hello !! not only has the point of her having not a zero good trait or will in her body been. proven false over and over and over again. but it's such ! Sad and not compelling is character choice for her *not* to be nuanced and complex and justified in a fucked up !! — like do you REALLY think hoyoverse (who is clearly capable of, and likes to make) complex characters, who are horrible, while not being *only* those horrible things, would pass up a golden (haha) opportunity to make a characters whose entire existence is JUST that??!,!2????

believe what you want! Do what you want! This is a silly video game that will be eroded along with time in a hundred in so years ! But god so help me, please don’t be willfully ignorant to the complexity and nuance of characters, just because you want a villain. No villain , real or not, is entirely evil. People are complex and multi faceted and people really, really need to hop off this cart of going “okay but stop saying she’s multifaceted because it takes away from her being evil” because it DOESNT! If anything, it makes her so much more compelling . Which is something some people can apparently. Not handle.

[j-psilas]

Will we ever get anything quite like Code Geass again?

I don't think it's possible.

Code Geass is Japanese nationalist propaganda disguised as a global political drama, disguised as a military mecha show, disguised as yaoibait, disguised as a teen melodrama, disguised as a high school romcom, disguised as a Pizza Hut commercial...

...except those layers aren't layers at all, but are instead comingled in a giant snake ball of insanity.

The lead writer, Ichirō Ōkouchi, only ever worked as an episode writer for other shows prior to Code Geass, and never took the helm of an anime series ever again. And it shows. [EDIT: Several people have pointed out his other lead writing credits to me. So I misread Wikipedia—sue me. I maintain that this guy is a better episode writer than he is a lead writer.]

The minute-to-minute pacing is impeccable from a mechanical standpoint, with tension and stakes rising to ever-higher peaks, balanced out by the slow simmers of the b-plot and c-plot. It keeps the viewer on the edge of their seat at all times. Meanwhile, the large-scale plot is the most off-the-wall middle school nonsense I've ever seen, continually surprising the viewer by pulling twists too dumb to have ever have been on their radar—and therefore more effective in terms of raw shock value.

"Greenlight it!" was the mantra of this anime's production. It must have been. It has, in no particular order, all of the following:

Character designs from CLAMP, the foremost yaoi/BL group in Japan at the time—for characters who are only queer insofar as they can bait the audience, and only straight insofar as they can be more misogynist to the female cast.

Speaking of the female cast, hoo boy the fanservice. We've all seen anime girls breast boobily, with many cases more egregious than Code Geass, but there's something special about it happening immediately after—or sometimes in the middle of!—scenes of military conflict and ethnic cleansing.

Pizza Hut product placement everywhere, in every conceivable situation. High-speed chases, light slice-of-life scenes, intimate character moments, all of it. Gotta have Pizza Hut.

The anime-only Pizza Hut mascot, Cheese-kun. He wears a fedora.

The most hilarious approximations of European names—which I would love to see more often, frankly. Names like, I dunno, "Count Schnitzelgrübe zi Blanquezzio."

A depiction of China that is wholly removed from any modern reality, with red-and-gold pagodas, ornamental robes, scheming eunuchs, and a brainwashed child empress. There's a character named General Tsao, like the chicken.

Inappropriate free-form jazz in the soundtrack, intruding at the most unexpected times.

A secret cabal not unlike the Illuminati, run by an immortal shota with magic powers, holding influence all across the world, at the highest levels of government. They matter for approximately three episodes.

An unexpected insert scene of a schoolgirl using the corner of a table to masturbate. She's doing it to thoughts of her crush, the princess Euphemia—because she believes Euphemia to be as racist as she herself is, and that gets her off. This interrupts an unrelated scene of our protagonist faction planning their next move, which then resumes as if uninterrupted.

Said schoolgirl, in a fit of hysteria, threatens to detonate a worse-than-nuclear bomb in the middle of her school. She then goes on to develop an even more destructive version of that bomb, and become a war criminal, in a chain of cause-and-effect stemming from the moment she finds out that Euphemia wasn't actually that racist.

A character called "the Earl of Pudding."

A premise that asks us to believe that the name Lelouch is normal enough that he didn't need to change it when he went into hiding as an ordinary civilian. "No, that's not Prince Strimbleford von Vanquish! That's our classmate, Strimbleford Smith."

The collective unconscious, a la Carl Jung, within which the protagonist fights his villainous father for control over the fate of humankind. After this is over, the anime just keeps going for about ten more episodes.

An episode in which a mech tosses a giant pizza.

A gay yandere sleeper agent who can manipulate the perception of time.

Chess being played very badly, even to the untrained eye. Lelouch frequently checkmates his opponent by moving his king. This goes hand-in-hand with the anime's crock of bad chess symbolism.

A fictional drug that can most succinctly be described as "nostalgia heroin."

Roller-skating mecha in knightly armor, and some of the most sickass mecha fight choreography that I've seen.

I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. This anime is what the average Westerner in 2006 thought anime was, and it was made in a confluence of factors that cannot be replicated. I've never had so much fun watching something that I found so... insulting. Repugnant. Ridiculous. Baffling. I love it sincerely.

Catch me cosplaying Lloyd Asplund at a con sometime, or maybe even the big gay loser himself, Lelouch vi Britannia.

[prythianpages]

Strange Love | Azriel

Azriel x Green Witch | Summary: In which your daughter, Alora, nearly sends Azriel into a mini crisis when she tells you she has a boyfriend.

warnings: fluff, Az stressing out over his baby girl

word count: 2,700

a/n: This can be read as a stand alone Dad Az fic! Here we have another fic inspired by a Bob's Burgers episode lol. I also wanted to show more of older Mel since we only got a glimpse of her so far.

The house is peaceful and quiet, save for the comforting rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock. A glance at it and Azriel knows the quiet won’t last much longer. Or the peace.

He leans back into the armchair, savoring the warmth of the steaming cup of tea in his hands—a special brew you created just for him many years ago. "A one-of-a-kind brew for a one-of-a-kind male," you had said. You sit beside him on the love seat, legs criss-crossed, with a spell book hovering in front of you, green magic surrounding you. Though it doesn’t look like it, the spells in your ancient book are endless, and judging by the darkened look in your eyes, he senses you must be reading about a new one.

His attention is once more drawn away from the book in his hands as his eyes land on the portrait that hangs over the grand fireplace. It is a family portrait you had commissioned from Feyre years ago. His lips tug up into a fond smile as he remembers the day you all gathered to pose for Feyre. It was hectic and chaotic and full of promises to your daughters to get them to stay still long enough for Feyre to complete her sketch.

It was all worth it, even if it resulted in you giving in to Mel's request and brewing a laughing potion. That she then slipped into Cassian's twins's drinks during your weekly dinners, driving everyone insane...

 You sat on a shorter stool than Azriel, perfectly situated between his legs. His gaze lingers on you, admiring the way Feyre captured your beauty. Your familiar, Binx, was on your lap while your pet spider, Pearl, rested on one of your shoulders. 

Unfortunately, Pearl passed shortly after the portrait was completed. You preserved her web with your own magic, allowing it to stand magnificently in the corner of your living room. Melaina, your firstborn, crocheted a replica of Pearl that now rests in that web, a touching tribute to the beloved spider that had spent so many years with you. Pearl herself was laid to rest in the forest, a serene place you visit often.

A young Melaina stood on his right, holding her pet scorpion as if it were a mere pup—the only reason she smiled for the portrait. Now a teenager, it’s a miracle if she smiles that brightly, preferring to don a cool mask instead. She’s just like her father in many ways.

Alora, your second born, had just turned three at the time. She was happy to clutch onto her father’s left arm, leaning into him, with the widest of toothy grins. Both of his wings were curled protectively around his favorite girls, a genuine smile of his own gracing his face.

It is a beautiful portrait, one that captures the magic and love in his little family well.

Azriel’s shadows begin to sing excitedly, the black cat curled up by his feet, lifting its head toward the door.

The door slams open, like it does every weekday at this hour. Mel walks in first, giving both him and you a nod in greeting. There’s a spark of mischief in those hazel eyes of hers but before either of you could question it, her shadows are wrapping around her and hiding her away from view as she runs to her room, still not having mastered winnowing. 

Teenagers.

Lor walks in next, hazel eyes bright and full of dreams. She’s mumbling and giggling to herself, making Azriel’s ears and shadows perk, straining to discern her words. She looks at Azriel first, then at you. “Mommy, Daddy,” she says in greeting, closing the door softly behind her and resting against it. She lets out a deep sigh.

“I’m in love.”

And there it was. That destruction of peace and quiet.

Azriel spits out his tea, choking on the curse he wanted to say but thought better against. His shadows are quick to run down his back in a soothing manner and you shoot him a look. The spellbook lands gently onto your coffee table, your full attention now on your daughter.

“That’s lovely, my pretty.” You tell her. “Who’s the lucky soul?”

“Lovely?” Azriel sputters, a small glare settling onto his features. He reluctantly accepted losing Mel to teenagehood, but Lor? Lor was eleven. She still had a year or two left. The mere thought of losing her too made his wings shudder.

“She’s just a girl!”

“She’s just a girl,” you repeat, tilting your head at him in further warning, that if Azriel wasn’t so worked up, he’d laugh at.

“I think he’s my boyfriend now. I invited him over for dinner!”

“Splendid!”

“No,” Azriel shakes his head. “Uninvite him.”

“Az, my love—“

The look he sends you has your words cutting off. You bring your hand to your mouth, covering up your grin, no doubt. There’s pure amusement dancing in your eyes. This moment was no different than the time Mel had her first crush.

Lor, oblivious or choosing to be oblivious to her father’s burning stare, runs to you with a squeal. She curls into your side and you smile fondly at her.  “I’ll make your favorite tonight, my pretty,” you say, running a hand through her long hair. “Tell me all about him.”

And though Lor’s favorite was his favorite, Azriel was suddenly dreading dinner.

He lets out a huff, standing from his seat. His shadows swarmed around him, mirroring his inner turmoil. He shoots you one last look– a look of utter betrayal–before leaving the room, unable to sit there and listen to his daughter talk about how someone else was vying for his little girl’s attention. 

Yet, a single shadow lingered in the living room...

**

Azriel knew this day would come, but that day was not going to be today.

It was similar to the way he felt when Mel first brought a boy home for dinner. But also different. Mel was strong-minded and had a well guarded heart. She had also been a couple of years older. Lor was naive and wore her heart on her sleeve. It was merely a week ago that she had come home crying from school because her classmate looked at her a certain way.

Love, crushes, heartbreak—they were all parts of growing up. Something you reminded Azriel as he helped you with dinner. He knew he had to let her experience them but boyfriends? Not now.

Lor was still too young. If it were up to him, there’d be a strict no boyfriend policy until both his daughters were in their second century.

Tonight, he would meet this boy, this intruder into his daughter's heart. He would be civil, for Lor's sake. Or at least try. He’d be watching the boy's every move, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble.

Azriel’s thoughts swirled as he chopped vegetables, his hands moving automatically while his mind wrestled with the reality of the situation. The protective father in him balked at the idea of her being hurt, her innocent heart broken by some boy who couldn’t possibly appreciate her.

A kiss on his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts, the knife in his hand coming to a stop. “You’re sulking, my love,” you said with slight humor in your tone, setting the knife down for him. You cupped his face in your hands, thumbs smoothing out the furrows of his brows. “Don’t worry, Az. She’s only eleven. I doubt this crush is anything serious.”

“But–”

“And if it is, we’ll simply have a talk with her.” You add as an afterthought, reassuring him that you were on his side.

“I love you, you know.”

You grin at him. “Well, that’s a relief. We have been mates for many years.”

**

Azriel watches with a slight frown as Lor literally buzzes with excitement, peeking through the windows of the dining room that face the street. Binx is seated on the window sill, his tail moving and reflecting his curiosity. You take the seat beside Azriel, saving the one beside Lor for your much-anticipated guest.

Mel is crouched on the floor, sprinkling a couple of crickets to feed her pet scorpion, Sprinkles. Her shadows still, wings tensing for a brief moment. She lifts her head, turning toward Lor. “He’s here,” she announces before excusing herself to wash her hands in the kitchen.

Azriel’s own shadows slither toward the door, following after Lor. He hadn’t heard the knock Mel did but he’s shifting in his seat nonetheless. Despite today being his day off, he chose to wear his fighting leathers for dinner, wanting to look every bit the menacing Spymaster he could be.

All seven of his cobalt siphons gleam proudly.

But then Lor walks into the dining room. Alone.

“Dad, Mom,” Azriel’s lips purse at the change of title, not liking the two letter drop from either of yours. She points to her side. “This is Jace.”

Azriel blinks. Once. Twice. His shadows flutter toward the spot Lor is gesturing at only to return to him with nothing. He looks at you. But you’re just as dumbfounded.

“Oh!” Lor giggles, eyes widening in realization. “I forgot to mention he’s a ghost.”

Even more confusion clouds Azriel’s features but that confusion slowly morphs into relief. He lets out a long breath—a chuckle almost. You place your hand onto his thigh, squeezing it in warning. “Just roll with it,” you murmur quietly to him, not wanting to upset Lor. The smile that forms on your face next is strained.

“Hi Jace. Have a seat please.”

Azriel says nothing, gaze narrowing at Lor. 'Jace' might be imaginary but it did little to ease his protective instincts. It was now the idea of his youngest daughter having a boyfriend that didn’t sit well with him. He has no intentions on being friendly to Jace, especially when Lor pulls back his seat for Jace to sit at.

The tension at the dining table was palpable. You were grateful when Mel returned, her presence breaking the uncomfortable silence.

But not in the way you hoped it would.

“Oh hey, Jace.” She greets casually, turning her toward his direction. There’s a gleam in her eye, as if she’s taking in the presence beside her younger sister.  “Nice shirt.”

Azriel feels another squeeze on his thigh but it’s different this time and followed by an awkward clearing throat sound from you. It had him tensing underneath your touch.

Azriel’s shadows could pick up on things others couldn’t but Mel? Mel could not only do the same with her shadows but she could also see things others couldn’t. Her first friend had been a ghost–the ghost of Rhysand’s little sister.

And now, it seemed that Lor’s first boyfriend was a ghost.

**

"That's it. She's breaking up with him now," Azriel murmured, shaking his head with a resolute finality.

The two of you had excused yourselves to the kitchen shortly after finishing dinner. A dinner that barely lasted half an hour, yet felt like an eternity with Azriel burning a hole into the chair beside Lor’s with his piercing gaze. She giggled at whatever Jace supposedly said and did most of the talking for him, with Mel chiming in occasionally.

 Azriel’s only comfort at the moment was that Mel remained in the dining room with Lor and Jace, knowing that if the ghost tried anything, Mel would happily take care of it. He looks at you, ready for you to disagree or offer a different solution. But you merely shake your head in agreement.

“Okay,” you breathe. “I’ll have Mel help me with a séance.”

“And I’ll talk to Lor.”

The plan was set then, the two of you walking back into the dining room. A stoic expression on Azriel’s face but a coy one on yours. 

Azriel clears his throat and you give his hand a squeeze in encouragement. “Lor, can we talk?”

“But–”

“Don’t worry, sweets. Mel and I will keep Jace company.”

Lor’s hazel eyes flickered between you and Azriel. She gave a soft sigh of defeat, mumbling something to Jace as she reluctantly followed Azriel into his study a couple of doors away. You waited until they were both out of view before turning your attention to Jace.

The chair he sat in slid backwards under your scrutiny.

Something hadn’t felt right about this entire situation. You didn’t have the same gift as Mel, but years of experience had left you with keen intuition and the ability to pick up on energies. When Mel started seeing Rhysand’s little sister, you had sensed that child-like energy.

But tonight, you felt nothing of the sort.

Your eyes landed on Mel, who remained seated at the dining table. Sprinkles was on her lap, and she ran a finger down the scorpion’s spine as she looked back at you. You raised an eyebrow at her and she did the same.

When you gave her that same scrutinizing gaze you had given the so called ghost, Mel caved in.

It was then that you saw it–a single shadow revealing itself as it crept up the arm of the chair Jace was ‘sitting’ in. It tugged the chair backwards again. The corner of Mel’s lips lifted into the faintest of smirks, a small chuckle slipping from her throat.

“You made up Jace, didn’t you?”

“Maybe.” Mel replies with a shrug of her shoulders. “Maybe, I like messing with dad. Maybe, I like messing with Lor…though, Jace did make Lor the coolest girl in school today…”

**

Meanwhile, Azriel led Lor into his study, his demeanor more composed than he felt. As his shadows closed the behind them, he took a moment to gather his thoughts, trying to find the right words...

“Daddy,” Lor began hesitantly, her voice soft but curious, “how did you know you were in love with Mommy?”

Azriel was taken aback by the question, his chest tightening at the return of his usual title. He hadn’t expected such a direct inquiry, but he welcomed it. He took a deep breath, his mind drifting back to the early days with you.

By the Mother, he had been such a fool in the beginning and he probably wasn’t the best at this. Something he would tell Lor once she was older–the same way he had told Mel when she had come to him for advice on similar matters.

“Well, it wasn’t something that happened overnight. I knew your mother was someone special to me the moment I met her. But it wasn’t until I got to know her better that I fell in love. It grew from the little moments we shared and the way she understood me.”

Lor tilted her head, absorbing his words. “She told me once that you were so brave you took an arrow for her.”

Azriel chuckled, surprised that you had shared that story. He wondered how much of your story you had told her already. “I did. I’d take many more for her.”

“Wow,” Lor whispered, her hazel eyes widening with the kind of wonder and admiration he adored seeing on her.

“I’d do the same for you too.” Azriel continued, shadows sweeping over her fondly. She giggled, squirming in her seat. “I’d do anything for my girls because I love you all."

"You see, love is a deep emotion. It’s difficult to explain as everyone can experience it differently. Sometimes, it can be overwhelming and complicated. But what I can tell you is that love is not just about excitement or attraction. It’s about truly caring for someone.”

Lor listened intently and Azriel could see her processing his words, the wheels turning as she considered her own feelings. After a moment of silence, she let out a sigh. “I don’t think I’m in love then. I mean, I like Jace, but I think I like him as a friend more.”

A wave of relief washed over Azriel and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. “You’re still growing and learning about yourself. Love will come in time, but for now, you’re too young to have a boyfriend.”

Lor nods in understanding, surprising Azriel with just how easy this conversation had been. She sunk back into the velvet armchair, a hint of concern still etched onto her face. “But I’ll find love someday, right? Like you did with mommy?”

“Someday,” Azriel smiled at Lor, reaching out to ruffle the top of her hair. “Maybe when you’re two-hundred and fifty.”

Lor gasped incredulously. “Two hundred and fifty??”

“Hey, consider yourself lucky. I was five-hundred and thirty nine when I started dating your mother.”

Lor’s jaw dropped in astonishment. A shadow gently nudged it closed. She blinked up at him, her eyes still wide.

“Jiminy crickets, you’re old!”

Azriel’s smile dropped quicker than a potion bubbling over.

a/n: I could not for the live of me come up with a better simile for that ending lol so sorry it's kind of lame. I hope I was able to convey Azriel's inner turmoil well and that you enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed the idea of it.

Mel is 6 years older than Lor. I honestly don't know how aging works for fae, like what's considered age appropriate but considering Az was messing around and underwent the bloodrite in his 20s, 17 is an okay age for Mel to have, had a boyfriend? Even if Az hated that too.

series tag list:@fxckmiup, @aria-chikage

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming @azriels-human, @mrsjna

[kitsu-katsu]

What some people miss when talking about the Fionna and Cake finale is the fact that if Simon's and Betty's arc didn't end how it ended, they had no "happier" option that would be coherent with the series at large

They are the doomed pairing at the center of it all, them realizing just how doomed they were, recognizing it and having their goodbyes was as good as they'd have it, because any other course of action either still dooms them or it dooms the whole world, and that's what all the parallel universes showed

If Simon and Betty never got to the crown, maybe if Simon had gone on with Betty to see the petroglyphs and their sacrifices were more evened out from the beginning, still not too long later the mushroom war would still have erupted, the bombs dropped and as normal humans it's almost certain they'd have died. Marceline would grow up without Simon, and now we're in the universe of the star

If Simon stayed in a half-transformed state, where he's neither fully Ice King nor fully Simon, we get the Winter King and someone has to be the recipient of the "crown madness" as was PB in that universe (plus, more importantly to not feel "insane" he didn't transfer the magic or the Gunther that comes with the crown, he mostly just transferred his sadness about Betty which manifested in him stealing princesses to be his brides. Thus the Winter King doesn't even remember her)

If he'd become Ice King again, he'd turn back to living not as himself, lost within the crown and depressed deep down because of it. Plus the messaging of succumbing back to an addiction he couldn't get out of because he was absolutely self destructive since without Betty his life didn't matter to him

If he'd put on the crown and stopped the bomb, Betty probably would've continued living, forever missing his memory just as he forever missed her in the main timeline. Plus eventually we get to farmworld reality

Truly the only alternative course of action that maybe could've worked somehow in terms of keeping them both alive and together for more than like 2 years would be if Betty didn't leave through the Hambo portal and maybe stayed to find Marcy along with Simon, making him less self-destructive and careless about his transformation and what it brings at the same since she'd be there too. But then there'd come a point where unassisted with magic, Betty would die anyway, and Simon would go down the Ice King path again

They're forever doomed

The events will happen, happening, happened, so on and so forth

And at least in their doom they were able to recognize it, have a moment of sincerity, Simon apologized for not seeing her sacrifices, and they both know that things could've been different, maybe better, maybe not, but regardless all their actions were taken and they have to live with them. So all in all, it's great that at last they recognize it as an experience they wouldn't trade for anything anyway, and life goes on. For Simon, with Betty's support through Golb he was able to go back and see worth in jeeping on living and going on new adventures instead of remaining stagnant for her who's never going to be back as he knew her. And Betty got to be a god, she got omnipotence, she got to protect Simon from the last obstacle to his safety: himself. And in the end it seems to imply she might've separated from Golb and become a catalyst comet herself, to be reborn

It's that signature bitter sweetness and acceptance that flawed people live flawed lives with shitty and great parts alike that's so signature adventure time. And it all will happen, happening happened and will happen again and again

[aspenmissing]

ɪ'ʟʟ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜ

ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ/ᴊɪɴx x ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ꜰᴇᴀᴛ. ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ) || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ

2747 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴇxᴘʟᴏꜱɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴏᴛɪᴄ ᴀʟʟᴇʏ ɪɴᴄɪᴅᴇɴᴛ, ᴊɪɴx ʜᴀꜱ ᴛʀᴀɴꜱꜰᴏʀᴍᴇᴅ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀᴏᴜꜱ ꜰᴏʀᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏɴᴅ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴꜱ. ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ʀᴇᴄᴋʟᴇꜱꜱ ꜱᴛᴜɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ'ꜱ ᴍᴀɴɪᴘᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴏʀ ᴠᴏᴡꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏꜱ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴊɪɴx, ᴏꜰꜰᴇʀɪɴɢ ᴜɴᴡᴀᴠᴇʀɪɴɢ ꜱᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ.

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 || ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3 || ᴘᴀʀᴛ 4 || ​ꜰɪɴᴀʟᴇ

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊɪɴx/ᴘᴏᴡᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ

A few years had passed since that chaotic night in the alley, and the factory where you operate has changed. The once silent, oppressive atmosphere now buzzed with a restless energy. You had seen it in the way Powder—now Jinx—had evolved. The girl who had once been scared and uncertain was gone, replaced by a whirlwind of chaos and unpredictability. Her bright blue hair had become her signature, a vibrant mess that mirrored the explosive nature of her thoughts and actions.

The soft, tentative child had grown into something far more dangerous, but something about her still carried the echoes of that first night. Even with the volatile energy she exuded, there were moments—brief, fleeting—that reminded you of the girl you had saved. The girl who had whispered she wanted to protect others.

But now, those whispers were drowned out by the manic laughter and gleeful explosions that followed her every move.

“Y/N! Come look at this!” Jinx’s voice rang out from the far side of the factory, her tone high and full of that familiar reckless excitement. You sighed, putting down the rifle you had been inspecting. It had been years, but you knew better than to ignore her when she got like this.

Stepping into the workshop, you found her hunched over a makeshift bomb, tinkering with wires and parts scattered around her. The remnants of previous attempts—some successful, others not so much—littered the floor, a trail of destruction in her wake.

“I think I finally got it,” she said with a grin, a manic gleam in her eyes. “This one's going to make a big bang. Bigger than ever.”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. “Jinx, you need to be careful with this stuff.”

She looked up at you, her eyes wide and gleaming with a mixture of excitement and defiance. “Careful?” she echoed, tilting her head as if the word was foreign to her. “Who needs careful when you can make the whole world go BOOM?”

Your heart twinged at the change in her. She was still your kid—your girl—but the lines between the playful, curious child and the wild, unpredictable woman were blurring.

You had become her anchor, the steady hand in the storm that was her life. Over the years, you had patched her up more times than you could count, cleaning her wounds, stitching her up, and keeping her alive when her recklessness almost killed her. At first, it had been about protecting her. Now, it was about keeping her from completely losing herself to the madness that she couldn’t seem to escape.

Her workshop, tucked away in a dark corner of Zaun, was a testament to her genius and her insanity. It was a place of creation, but it was also a place of destruction. The walls were lined with unfinished projects, the air thick with the smell of metal, oil, and something far more volatile. Jinx thrived here, lost in the chaos she created, but you were always there, lingering at the edges—watching, waiting, and ready to step in when things went too far.

Zaun had become her stage, a chaotic playground where she unleashed her madness. Every corner, every alley, every broken down building became part of her performance. The explosions and mayhem were her signature, and the city itself was her audience. What started as a few daring stunts had morphed into a city-wide spectacle, drawing attention, fear, and admiration in equal measure.

Silco had seen the potential in her madness, encouraged it even. He had risen to his position as The Eye of Zaun with ruthless determination, and now his reach extended even further, his ambitions focused on Piltover. You couldn’t help but admire his drive, but there were times when you felt like you were losing him, too, to the game of power that consumed him.

One evening, you found Jinx stumbling through the factory doors, blood dripping from her leg. The sight of her like this—wild-eyed, breathless, and covered in cuts—made something tighten in your chest. But it wasn’t the first time.

“Jinx,” you sighed, stepping forward as she collapsed into your arms. “What the hell did you do this time?”

She winced, her wide eyes sparkling with that familiar mix of excitement and madness. “Just a little… uh, explosion. You know, for the show,” she giggled, clearly high on adrenaline. “Wasn’t expecting the blast to be that big. Whoops.”

You grit your teeth, trying to hold back the frustration that was bubbling up. “You could’ve died. Damn it, Jinx.” You helped her over to a nearby table, sitting her down gently but with a firmness that only you could manage. As you cleaned the wound, your hands were steady but your words sharp.

“I didn’t die, did I?” she teased, her voice laced with a mix of amusement and defiance.

"“You’re lucky you’re still breathing,” you snapped, your voice sharp. “One day, that luck is going to run out." pulling out the needle and thread. You could hear the quiet thrum of Silco’s voice from the office in the distance, his quiet orders echoing through the factory. He had been overseeing things in her factory, his plans taking shape with every passing day.

As you stitched Jinx’s leg, the tension in the room was palpable. You could feel her gaze on you, her eyes filled with something unreadable. She trusted you, but at the same time, she hated being treated like a child. Still, you did what you had to do. You had to protect her, even if she didn’t always want it.

When the stitching was done, you finished wrapping her leg in bandages and stood up, wiping your hands on a rag. “You can’t keep doing this, Jinx.”

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she glanced up at you, her blue eyes softer than usual. “You’re always fixing me up,” she murmured, her voice quiet, almost vulnerable. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

For a moment, you stood there, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Your heart softened, but the tough exterior you had built over the years remained. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. But don’t make me patch you up again like this, okay?”

Jinx smiled, her mischievous grin returning. “I’ll try to make it less… explosive next time.”

You didn’t buy it for a second, but you let out a short laugh. “Just don’t blow yourself up. Again.”

The dim light of Silco’s office flickered, casting long shadows on the walls as you stood across from him, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. His mismatched eyes, always sharp and calculating, never wavered from yours. He leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping a steady rhythm against the armrest, seemingly unaffected by the tension in the room.

“You’re pushing her too hard,” you snapped, the anger in your voice cutting through the silence. It had been building for days, weeks—ever since Silco started sending Jinx on more dangerous assignments, pushing her further into the chaos that she was already so entangled in. You could feel the heat of it burning beneath your skin as you took a step forward. “She’s not some pawn to be sacrificed for your war with Piltover. She’s my responsibility, Silco, and you’re putting her life at risk with every reckless stunt you send her out on.”

Silco’s gaze remained cold, unwavering. He didn’t flinch, didn’t blink. His fingers continued their rhythmic tapping as he let your words hang in the air for a moment. Finally, he spoke, his voice a low rumble that matched the calm fury in his eyes. “Jinx knows what she’s doing. She’s capable. If you think I’ve pushed her too far, perhaps you’ve forgotten what we’re up against. The stakes are higher than ever. Every move we make serves a bigger purpose.”

“Bigger purpose?” Your voice cracked like a whip, your patience finally breaking. “All I see is you using her to gain ground in your war. She’s out there every damn day, risking herself, thinking she’s doing this to make you proud. You encourage it, Silco. You feed into it. You’ve turned her into a weapon—and I can’t just stand by and watch her destroy herself for your game.”

A thick silence settled over the two of you, the tension suffocating. Silco’s eyes locked with yours, still unreadable, though the tightness in his jaw betrayed the struggle beneath his composed exterior. His fingers stopped tapping, the air growing heavier in the stillness.

“She’ll get results,” he said, his voice colder now, but with something that bordered on affection for the girl he called his daughter—something deeper, even if buried beneath layers of practicality. “You don’t understand the gravity of what we’re facing. Jinx is more than just an asset. She’s the spark that will ignite the change we need. She’s the key.”

You took a step closer, your voice quiet but laced with a fierce, protective edge. “She’s not just the key to your plans. She’s more than that. She’s a person. She’s my responsibility now, Silco. You handed her to me to protect, to look after. And now you’re pushing her too far. I’m not going to watch her burn out for your damn ‘bigger purpose.’ You’re sending her into danger because you think she’s expendable. You can’t just throw her away when she doesn’t fit your plan anymore.”

For the first time, Silco’s expression softened—just slightly, but enough for you to see it. There was a flash of something vulnerable in his eyes, something that spoke of an old pain, a hidden care. His voice, when it came, was quieter now, edged with something like regret. “I know what she means to you. To me, too. But you don’t think I know what’s at stake here?” His gaze flickered briefly, and you could sense that there was more to his feelings for Jinx than his usual cold demeanor suggested. “She’s not just some tool to be discarded. I... I won’t let her become that. But you have to understand, this city doesn't give us the luxury of playing it safe. The stakes are too high.”

You could see it in his eyes—desperation, love, and determination—all tangled together. The same things you felt when you thought about Jinx. But even so, he continued, his voice still firm, though laced with the hint of something darker, something more personal. “She’s the only one who can deliver results. I won’t lose her, not again. But this war... it’s unforgiving. And so are the choices we make.”

“You’re pushing her to the edge,” you shot back, your voice trembling with frustration. “She’ll break if you keep doing this. And you’ll lose everything—her, me, everything we’ve built. If you can’t see that, then you’re just as blind as Piltover.”

For a long moment, Silco’s eyes remained locked on yours, his features hardening once again. But there was a crack in the armor. A quiet sorrow that was almost imperceptible, but it was there.

“I didn’t ask for this war,” he murmured, almost to himself. “But if I have to burn everything to the ground to ensure we win... I’ll do it. Jinx is the one who will help us change this city. I just... I need her to see that. I need her to understand the cost of it.”

You stepped closer still, until you were within reach, your hands now uncrossed and held at your sides, your voice softening just a fraction. “And what about us, Silco? What happens to us when she’s gone? Because if you keep pushing her, keep treating her like a weapon, you’ll lose her. And if you lose her... you lose me too.”

There it was—a crack in his stoic exterior. His eyes softened, a fleeting vulnerability passing through them before he quickly masked it again. He took a long breath, looking at you with something akin to regret, mixed with something more... possessive. “I never wanted to lose either of you,” he said, the words heavy, genuine in a way that only he could be.

The silence stretched between you two, not quite peaceful but laden with understanding—a truce of sorts.

"Then stop pushing her, Silco," you whispered, your voice softer now, laced with hope. "You don't have to destroy everything to win. Not her, not me. Not us."

Without waiting for his reply, you turned on your heel, your steps heavy as you stormed out of his office. The door slammed shut behind you, the sound echoing through the cold halls of the factory. You couldn’t stand to be in that room any longer. The anger in your veins simmered, mixing with the overwhelming worry for Jinx.

You didn’t stop walking until you reached the quiet bar at the edge of the district. It was always your escape when the weight of everything became too much to bear. The dim lighting and the stale air of the place offered some comfort, even if only for a brief moment. You sank into one of the stools, ordering a drink, but not bothering to touch it. The thoughts of Jinx, of Silco, swirled in your mind like a storm.

Minutes passed, and just as the silence of the bar began to settle in, you heard the soft scrape of a chair being pulled out. Without looking up, you knew who it was. The familiar scent of gunpowder and metal wafted into the air.

"You look like you’ve seen better days," Jinx's voice cut through the quiet. Her voice was rough, tired, but there was an edge of concern beneath it, the same concern that had once led her to hide behind your back when the world felt too overwhelming.

You glanced at her, your expression softening despite yourself. She was standing in front of you, her vibrant blue hair messy as always, her eyes wide and filled with that same chaotic energy that you had come to know so well.

“Jinx…” you sighed, trying to suppress the flood of emotions that surged through you. You didn’t know how to explain it, how to put into words the weight of everything you had just argued about.

"You look mad," she said, her voice teasing but with an undertone of understanding. "Did Silco get to you again?"

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you motioned for her to sit, and she did so eagerly, perching on the stool beside you.

“He’s pushing you too hard, Jinx,” you muttered, your voice quiet now. "Every damn day, he’s asking you to go further. To risk more. And I… I’m scared you’re gonna push yourself too far."

Jinx met your gaze, her eyes searching yours. The usual gleam of manic excitement was there, but there was something else, something softer that you hadn’t seen in a while.

"Maybe I like it when he pushes me," she said, her voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "Maybe I need to prove that I’m more than just his little girl. That I can handle it, y'know?"

You shook your head, your hand gently brushing her hair back from her face. "You don’t have to prove anything to him. Or to anyone. You’re more than enough, Jinx."

She let out a small, bitter laugh, her eyes glistening with a mix of frustration and sadness. "You think that now, but I don’t know if I believe it anymore."

You couldn’t help but reach out, pulling her into a gentle hug. For all the madness, for all the chaos, there was still the same girl you had once held in your arms when she was terrified of the world around her. The same girl who needed someone to believe in her when she couldn’t believe in herself.

"I believe in you," you whispered, holding her close. "I’ve always believed in you."

She stayed silent for a moment, before finally pulling away, a small, shaky smile playing at the corner of her lips. "I know, mom" she said softly. "You always have."

"And I always will."

The weight in your chest didn’t feel as heavy now, and when Jinx offered you a grin—a glimmer of the girl who once looked to you for comfort—you realized that no matter how far things spiraled out of control, you would always be there for her.

[lastoneout]

No but fr we should talk more about how TotK Zelda probably could have learned to use her time powers to fix things without having to turn into a dragon, like all on her own she was able to transport a whole item across 10,000 years which is crazy impressive, but due to Gannon she was thrust into a situation exactly like the one she started in before BotW only worse, and that's probably why the dragon option seemed better.

The only person who could have helped her unlock an incredible power(a figure not dissimilar to her mother) was dead and on top of that Raru(someone who probably felt more like a father to her than her actual father) was ALSO gone and unable to offer her whatever support or guidance he could. She was alone at the end of the world knowing she was the only one who could stop it, and so of fucking COURSE she chose the tangible option even though it would DESTROY her forever rather than spend days, weeks, years, her whole entire lifespan trying and possibly failing to figure out her time power. Not just because she knew the dragon plan had a higher likelihood of success, but because she could not bear to go back to the hell of knowing so many lives depend on her magically discovering how to use her gift without help or any hint that it might actually work.

Zelda chose to sacrifice herself because it would work, but also because like most people who've been through trauma, the very idea of going back was unthinkable. Staying and figuring it out might have worked, but it would have emotionally destroyed her, and physical destruction that will work is, to her, the better option. It's such a profoundly devastating part of the story because her choice makes perfect sense. It's exactly what a traumatized person who's entirely separated from everyone she holds dear and crumbling under the weight of countless lives on her shoulders would choose.

Like ough BotW/TotK Zelda is EVERYTHING I could talk about her forever. The flawed female character of all time. No notes. I wish she hadn't been damseled again but like god this story is going to make me insane forever(high priase) and we got EoW so I'm not gonna complain. God I love her so much.

[colourstreakgryffin]

May I request a Choso!Reader with Alastor and Rosie (separated) if you write for her too, I think I would be adorable to see how the dynamic would work.

Hehe! Aww! I’d love to write for Rosie. Alastor and Rosie, they are cute. Very cute! I suppose I can try this but I am not sure what could come out of it! I do like Choso as well so let’s go! Rosie is personally my favourite female character in Hazbin! Sorry. This was SOOO hard to write for!

Alastor

You’re a quiet and mellow person, kinda just fading in the background, overshadowed by the much more interesting people. By whilst your personality isn’t winning any rewards, your powers, your skills and your loyalty to your brothers are

Alastor finds your power incredible. Blood manipulation, producing beams of blood that can cut limbs off. He likes a fighter capable of mass destruction and he is already interested in you when he sees you with your little villain group just reluctantly fighting

Alastor does try to befriend you but it’s kinda hard. You’re bored and uninterested. The only way you’ll pay attention is when somebody is proven to you and trust me, Alastor proves himself and afterwards, you’re being protective over him

Working with him and even calling him your ‘little brother’. Whilst it took a bit to develop your likeness towards the Radio Demon, it’s quite strong now and you enjoy spending time with him. Listening to him silently and giving out both straightforward yet wise advice, based on your many years of experience

“My dear. Want to play some chess with me? If you do, please don’t break the pieces again”

Rosie

Rosie wasn’t suspecting to ever meet somebody like you. A mellow, controlled and yet very caring and powerful sinner with the ability to manipulate and attack with their own blood in such a violent way. You’re definitely a unique one and she can’t help but keep her nonexistent eyes on you. She wonders what you’re like behind that image

As suspected, it’s quite hard to get you to like her or even look at her. You just stick around this ‘villain’ group and only ever show interest when she proves herself to you as a good ally. Then, when that happens, you switch from that group to the Cannibal District, overwatching Rosie and following her around like a bodyguard. With your power, you should be her bodyguard

You know Rosie loves the fact you’re the oldest sibling of around nine other siblings. She likes cute families and she commends that but as well, she’s insanely shocked when you begin to call her your ‘little sister’ and be brutally protective over her. She is an Overlord, whilst not a magically powerful one, but an Overlord and you’re protecting her?!

Rosie doesn’t mind you being so quiet and almost bored. It’s much better than people being so loud, you two can just enjoy tea and sweets together without much words needed. Instead, she can just speak to you and you can give off as much wisdom and advice as you can to try help make her a better ruler

“Oh? Darling… what’s wrong? You’re crying… you’re crying over the people? Why?”

[codenamesazanka]

What Deku doesn't understand is that the “League of Villains” encapsulates exactly who Tenko - the Crying Child Deku was so adamant about saving - is. He thinks reaching out a hand, smashing that hatred, and saving Tenko means getting Tenko to abandon the League. He is completely wrong - and he would've realized this if he just talked to Shigaraki in all the time he fought against Shigaraki. And listened to what Tenko said in Chapter 418.

The League of Villains is the group Shigaraki Tomura created in order to wreck shit and kill All Might and bring down Hero Society. Shigaraki picked the name and picked the purpose and picked its members and he leads them towards the apocalypse—

—and this is also the group of outcasts that are his comrades and friends; that he gathered and created a place for, where they can be themselves in a society that ruthlessly denied them that. He accepted Twice without care for his insanity and inability to use his quirk, never pushed Twice to do more than he was able to. He accepted Spinner despite being a Stain fanboy and having a weak, nearly useless quirk, and promised him the destruction of the world that hurt him; for all of League. When Toga was pushed by the other members to choose a Villain name despite wanting to live as herself, as Toga Himiko, Shigaraki spoke up in indirect defense of her choice, providing himself as an example of someone who didn't use a Villain name, and who can override the boss' words? Dabi was allowed to come and go as he pleased, and although he was the most aloof member, by the end, he was declaring the world burn for "our" sake - plural; the League's. Mr. Compress believed in Shigaraki enough to entrust an ancestor's dream and family legacy to him; when surrounded by Heroes at Jaku, he was willing to die to save Shigaraki, to let him escape.

The League is a collection of people that Shigaraki cares for - that he saved. That was always the surest sign that ‘Tenko’, sweet and kind and hero-aspiring boy, was alive inside.

Without the League, without having seen the time Shigaraki spent with the League, a reader can just write off Shigaraki and say there’s nothing left in there worth saving. The League is literally the evidence for Tenko have still existed and that Shigaraki was "worth" saving, long before we ever saw ‘Inner Tenko’.

But Deku doesn't understand that.

To go further: outside of the League, Shigaraki still had his distorted but undeniable kindness and fairness. I've spoke about it before, and sorry for repeating myself, but even towards his Villain enemies, he gives them consideration: Shigaraki left Overhaul crippled, but 100 chapters later, he's still continuing Overhaul's work - the quirk erasing bullets - and even laments that Overhaul would be disappointed when Shigaraki sees some of the bullets destroyed. All For One at Jaku tries to take over his body, at the time seemingly only a phantom voice in his head, but Shigaraki still acknowledges that he's grateful AFO took him in. It's only when AFO oversteps that again and again, taking possession of his body, that Shigaraki would tear the AFO vestige from inside out and mock him when the opportunity arises.

And there's ReDestro, and the importance of the ending of MVA. RD and his army picks a fight with Shigaraki - something that Shigaraki explicitly points out; the blame for what happened to Deika is on largely them. RD challenged Shigaraki and the League; blackmailed them, kidnapped their broker, and attacked their pitiful 6-member team with a town-sized militia; insulted Shigaraki, destroyed The Hands, tried to kill him. Shigaraki had every reason to just dust RD while the man was sitting there bleeding out with his legs cut off. Just finish him off without even giving the guy last words. It was more than fair.

But Shigaraki didn't. He went and talked to RD. To mock him for picking this fight, but it was still a talk. And when RD acknowledge his defeat and kowtowed, Shigaraki let him live. Took over his army and resources, but RD was still alive and even made lieutenant.

Without this - if Shigaraki had just dusted RD after defeating him - we would have only seen Shigaraki as a conquerer and not someone who can be reasoned with. He would just be AFO with different minions. And Shigaraki wasn't.

He can be brutal, and he seems like he's destroying for evil fun; but Shigaraki has his compassion and justice. A Villainous Hero for the Villains. It's why he destroys; it's why he doesn't regret his actions, why he wishes good luck to Deku to continue it, even after Deku smashed his core of anger and hatred. Shigaraki saved his League, and he refuses to disavow doing so. Because he shouldn't.

And Deku just doesn't understand that.

[lu-is-not-ok]

So, Jia Xichun has Gloom for Skill 1, Gluttony for Skill 2 and Envy for Skill 3. What the hell does that mean.

So I wasn't initially going to make a full on analysis, as I don't want to burn myself out on Sin Analyses all over again... But then I thought about it. And thought about it some more... and oh, girl... Oh dear... Oh honey...

So yeah we're doing this

Gloom S1: Gloom as a Sin is associated with negative emotions, dwelling on the past, sinking into despair, and self-destruction. The two Sinners we have with a Gloom S1 - Yi Sang and Gregor - are both people who get easily thrown into reminiscing about their past by seemingly minor happenings, especially Gregor who's quite literally got PTSD.

The easiest way to read this is as a reflection of Xichun's trauma with the Jia Family, and the anxiety she's developed because of it. She's shown to be extremely concerned with building a faction, likely something required of her as one of the candidates for the Family Head, and for a brief moment she even suspects Hong Lu of potentially trying to kill her if she joins up with him, even though Wei points out that Hong Lu is different to the rest of her siblings.

There's also something else I've noticed in the few lines Xichun gets thus far in this Canto - the way she reminisces about her home and past. Unlike Hong Lu, who brings up anecdotes of his life seemingly to try and lighten the mood, unaware that they sound fucking insane to any normal listener, Xichun is very very aware of them being bad memories. And the moments she's pushed into reminiscing seem... very interesting.

The first time is when she manages to shut Hong Lu up and make him stop bothering her by telling him not to embarrass her (which is a line that makes me insane for a completely different reason unrelated to this post), causing her to reminisce and compare Hong Lu's current state to how he was the last time they met.

The second time is when she's failing to extract any useful info from the Priest, comparing the state he's in to the state people tortured by the Jia Family would be reduced to (one of those people likely being Hong Lu himself, judging by his completely silent reaction).

Compare this to the one time Hong Lu reminisces about something towards Xichun. He compares their current predicament, of only temporarily working together, to a truce made over some snacks. He understands what she's saying, he's just either refusing or straight up unable to comprehend the severity of what she's saying. You can tell if she were the one reminiscing here it would be a much darker memory than this.

So.

Xichun is a young woman who was left full of anxiety after having to live in the Jia Household, this anxiety only being made worse by the rivalry she's forced into against her siblings due to circumstances outside of her control.

This anxiety is likely the main cause for her hostility, which acts as her defense mechanism to push people who could harm her away from her, though in the process she ends up sabotaging herself by trying to push away the people who genuinely want to help her, like Hong Lu.

She's a deeply traumatized person, who gets reminded of her family's abuse whenever she sees people around her act in a similar way to the victims of the Jia Family.

That's what I believe her Gloom S1 is meant to reflect.

Gluttony S2: Gluttony as a Sin is associated with hunger, desire, inability to feel satisfied, and in certain cases survival. The two Sinners who have a Gluttony S2 - Gregor and Ishmael - are both heavily tied to survival, being the main focus of the "Survival is a Sin" scene in Canto 1 with Yuri. At the same time though, the object of their Gluttony differs - for Gregor, it's normalcy, a desire to escape the nightmare he lives in, one which he can't reach due to the scars left in him by the Smoke War; for Ishmael, it's finding Ahab, a desire that turns into an obsession with killing a survivor in an act of revenge, one if she were to fulfill would leave her empty and with no other reason to keep on living.

Xichun herself seems to continue the trend of Gluttony being tied to survival, as a lot of how she treats others can be very easily tied into her trying to avoid being picked off by her Family. The main object of desire in Xichun's case appears to be Power.

The first thing Xichun notices and mentions upon seeing Hong Lu is his lack of a well-built faction, and from the way her own posse is described, it seems she herself took the time and effort to build a group that is more than capable of both protecting her and dealing serious harm. She appears to care a lot about the Power numbers give her, especially with how she describes the methods her siblings would use to kill her.

It's not that Yuanchun or her other siblings would personally come after her, no, their Power, and by extention her own, come from the people who surround the siblings. The lackeys, the minions, the faction.

There is also... something else Xichun is searching for in La Manchaland, something that I believe ties back into this desire of hers. Xichun's sole reason for coming all this way is her search for a specific piece of information, and considering her reaction to the story being told by Sansón, it's not impossible for that info to be related to the Rivers of the deep.

...This is where I have to do a bit of speculation, as the Rivers are a part of PM's world we still don't know much about.

Here's what we know for sure about the Rivers:

At least some of them are analogous to the Rivers of Hades, as the River of Oblivion shares the name with one of them, Lethe.

2. The Rivers seem to primarily possess powers that directly influence one's consciousness, whether it be giving one visions of the future that drive them into madness, or completely oblivionize one's identity.

3. Considering the above use of 'well' as a synonym for the Rivers, it's very possible they're Heavily Connected to the Well LobCorp would draw from using Cogito.

So. We don't really know the reason for Xichun to be searching for info on the Rivers. However, from what little we know of what they might be able to do, it's not unlikely her goal is to try and use their Power in some way. It would fit with what we know of her so far, and while our own knowlege is limited, the fact that one of those Rivers was LobCorp's Well shows that when harnessed, they can be incredibly Powerful resources indeed.

So.

Xichun is a person who has been put in a situation where her primary concern is her own survival, as she's put in constant danger by her Family. This has likely led to her developing an unsatiable desire for some form of Power.

This desire primarily manifests itself through Xichun's concern with surrounding herself with powerful people and building her own faction, as it's clear the biggest threat her fellow siblings pose to her is through their own lackeys. Her experience would have clearly taught her that's what being Powerful is all about.

However, due to the nature of this desire as something that cannot be satisfied, a faction is not enough for Xichun. While this is my speculation, I believe this same desire for Power is exactly why Xichun is searching for information on the Rivers within La Manchaland, likely believing that the Power they have would be a highly valuable resource to her.

That's what I believe her Gluttony S2 is meant to reflect.

Envy S3: Envy as a Sin is associated with a sense of inferiority, lack of control and free will, jealousy, and attempts to copy others. The one Sinner with an Envy S3 - Sinclair - is shown to be deeply insecure and easily manipulated into acting a certain way by people who show him attention. He's implied to covet the aura and the kind of presence Demian carries with him, and his fears and feelings of inferiority are the flaw he struggles with the most visibly.

Xichun, at her core, is a deeply insecure person. One of the first things she says about herself is expressing the opinion that she's nowhere close to the level her older siblings are at. She's someone who tries to do what they do, coveting the Power and status they hold, but is unable to match them in her own eyes.

And then. There's this line.

Xichun considers herself to be So below her other siblings, that she sees herself as such a non-threatening figure that there's a chance her siblings would straight up ignore her in their rivalries. This line, I think, exemplifies just how deep and pervasive Xichun's Envy is.

There's also this moment, again further showing her lack of confidence, immediately putting herself down and claiming her prediction is probably wrong the moment she's asked to share it.

So.

Xichun feels a deep sense of inferiority, often comparing herself to her siblings and feeling jealous of their own Power and status. She feels self-conscious about her own lack of those things compared to her Family, to the point where she considers herself completely irrelevant at points of notable weakness.

It's very likely that everything Xichun does stems from that feeling of not being the one in control of the situation, of being so weak that her siblings would feel she's not worth the effort. She needs Power, she needs to be on the same level as her other siblings, because without it, she's considered nothing.

Perhaps it's part of what infuriates her about Hong Lu's behavior. We've seen he's extremely self-sacrificial, willing to just lay down and accept pain simply because he knows why other people would want to inflict that on him. He's someone who seems to put himself in a position of weakness willingly. Of course Xichun would hate seeing that, as someone who doesn't have the choice not to be in a similar position herself.

That's what I believe her Envy S3 is meant to reflect.

I love her. I'm so scared for her.

It makes me wonder if the choice to give her white bits in her hair is meant to invoke the idea of someone's hair turning white prematurely from stress. After all, if there's anyone in the Jia Family who would be stressed to the point of that happening, it would be the one who considers herself the weakest out of all of them...

[tritoch]

one thing i like to do when i'm feeling too unbothered and chill and normal is read venat discourse on twitter. makes me insane every single time it comes up. "she placed herself as a god above the ancients and judged that they had no right to live" "she was taking the only path available to her to stop meteion and defeat the final days because it needed to be a race that could handle dynamis" wrong wrong wrong! learn to read!

venat was stopping a planned mass sacrifice of non-ancient life by the only means available to her. that is the primary motivation for the sundering. shadowbringers says this to you, very very clearly. hythlodaeus in "a greater purpose," 5.0 (this is when you're chilling at the DMV together):

The Convocation of Fourteen─well, it was Thirteen at the time─endeavored to create a will for our star. They would repair the fundamental laws of order and halt the spread of destruction. But creation on such a scale required an immense source of power... Of those of us who still lived, nearly half offered up their lives in the name of salvation. And from their sacrifice, Zodiark was born. Just as we had hoped, He reached forth and halted the march of oblivion. ...Yet oh how the star had suffered. So many species lost. The land was blighted, the waters poisoned, and even the wind had ceased to blow. Once more did our people give of themselves to Zodiark. Another half of our race sacrificed to cleanse the world; to ensure that trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives would sprout and grow and flourish. The cycle of life had begun anew, and we reconsidered the means by which we might protect it. The Convocation decided thus: we would nurture our world until it was bursting with vitality. Then, when the time was right, we would offer some portion of its living energy to Zodiark... In return, He would restore to us those brethren whose souls had fed His strength, and together we would resume our role as stewards. There were, however, those who disagreed with this plan. They argued that enough had been sacrificed to Zodiark─that this new world should belong to the lives newly born. These dissidents surrendered their life energies in the creation of Hydaelyn, an incarnation of their opposing belief. And for the first time in history, our people stood divided... Know you, then, how this conflict ended?

Hythlodaeus is very clear: Following the first 50% sacrifice to Zodiark, the land was dying and there had been a mass die-off. A second 50% sacrifice (so 25% of the pre-Zodiark Ancient population) resolved that, cleansing the world and restoring nature and non-Ancient life. Afterwards, the Convocation planned a third sacrifice: they would "nurture [the] world until it was bursting with vitality," the "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" he describes earlier, and then sacrifice some considerable amount of that life to restore the Ancients comprising Zodiark.

People pretend that there's a lot more ambiguity on this point than there is, but it's quite clear that when he says "myriad tiny lives," he is saying something that encompasses the modern peoples of Eorzea or their very near ancestors (it's only been about 12,000 years since the Sundering. For comparison early modern humans emerged about 300,000 years ago, and there's no suggestion I'm aware of that evolution even exists on Etheirys anyhow). There's a couple very strong pieces of evidence for this:

First, anything that exists on multiple shards must have existed pre-Sundering, since there's close to no multidimensional travel (barring Ascians and the Exarch). Thus, all the player races, which we know exist on each shard so far, as well as, say, the Amalj'aa, the Kobolds, the Sahagin, and the Qiqirn, all must have existed before the Sundering since we also see them on the First.

Second, the phrasing of "trees and grasses and myriad tiny lives" positions "lives" as a category that encompasses everything that isn't trees and grasses. We can surmise that when he describes the Hydaelyn faction standing for "lives newly born" he's again describing basically everything that isn't plants. this again includes the spoken races of the current game or their ancestors; they are a clear part of what was at stake in the sacrifice.

Third, if that doesn't persuade you that Hythlodaeus is talking about lives like yours, consider that you've just spent the last few quests exploring the city full of giant ancient magic people going "wow! you're so small and childlike! what a miniscule living being you are!" When Hythlodaeus gives this speech about "myriad tiny lives," he is a literal enormous giant sitting next to you, a very tiny living being from his perspective.

This sacrifice, which Hythlodaeus explains to you in the DMV, is the crux of the matter and the root of Venat's choice. The time loop, her knowledge of Meteion, the debate over the right solution to the final days—all of that is secondary. She explicitly is unsure up until you meet her in the Aitiascope whether the time loop is stable and real and applies to you.

The essential issue is the fact that the Ancients are supposed to be stewards of the star, and now they are going to engage in mass sacrifice of lives that Venat knows are people like her and her peers (mostly this is thanks to being a humanist who believes in the sanctity and dignity of life but she also has the confirmation of your post-sundering, totally humanlike existence). Just a quarter of the Ancients' original number remain, their society is in tatters, and what's left is in the process of actively betraying every ideal they ever claimed to hold by slaughtering the life they allegedly guide and care for (which they know to be ensouled!) to undo the great and noble sacrifice of their loved ones.

but venat's faction is weak. it's her and like 13 sorta-important people she knows plus maybe some unnamed others. they lack the numbers or the raw ability to make something that can defeat zodiark, and will need instead to lean on venat's abilities.

her morals do not allow her to stand by as the convocation plans a mass sacrifice of "lesser" life. her circumstances do not give her the time or ability to win them over through rhetoric or decisively defeat them with force. nor can she actually destroy zodiark, because then the final days would simply resume. nor, I assume, is she interested in straight up slaughtering what remains of the ancients until the convocation's plan becomes impractical, assuming she is even strong enough to do so with just the twelve and the watcher's ancient selves for backup. there is no longer an option on the table which does not involve great pain. left to choose between unacceptable options, she chooses the one route which seems able to protect the vitality of the world and uphold the ancients' mission of shepherding all life upon the star towards flourishing: the sundering.

[the-badger-mole]

Aang was a kid who was the sole survivor of a genocide. Why doesn't that factor in your opinion of him?

I've talked about this before, but his age and tragic backstory are irrelevant. ALL of the main characters are children with tragic backstories, and they are more empathetic, have more growth, and their tragic backstories...actually matter.

Listen, for all people whine about how often Katara talks about her mom (which isn't really that often), it's clear how her mother's death shaped her as a character. It's clear how witnessing her mother's death formed her worldview, and Kya sacrificing herself for Katara made a mark (she never turns her back on people who need her? COME ON! That is obviously her trying to save people the way she couldn't save her mother). Even her wanting to learn how to fight and not heal (which is an insane battle advantage, btw) speaks to her trauma around not being able to defend her mom.

Even Sokka's trauma around the loss of his father and not being deemed old enough (big enough/ strong enough/ smart enough) to go with Hakoda and the other warriors come through in his recurring need to prove himself (coming up with the big battle plan for DoBS, breaking his father out of prison, learning swordplay, etc.). It's woven so neatly into the narrative. His trauma matters to his story.

Toph is the least developed of the Gaang, and her issues with her parents have more impact on character than the destruction of the Air Nomads have on Aang. Heck, Zuko's entire arc hinges on compound traumas.

Meanwhile, Aang's trauma....? What trauma? Yes, the loss of the Air Nomads is a tragedy, but we, the audience, only know it's a tragedy because we have real world knowledge telling us so. Personally, I was in 3rd or 4th grade when I began learning about the Trail of Tears, and in kindergarten when I began learning about slavery (I was born in Harlem. The kindergarten I went to taught us accordingly). When I saw ATLA, I had a frame of reference for the genocide of the Air Nomads. But it didn't really seem to bother Aang all that much. Oh, sure, it did come up when it was convenient to the plot, but it mostly seemed to be a way for Aang to expound on the superiority of Air Nomad philosophy and society to whoever he's talking to. Aside from that, and his first rush of feeling when he found out what happened to them, the loss of the Air Nomads doesn't seem to effect Aang all that much. If he doesn't care about his tragic loss, why should I?

Aang is a fictional character. I don't have to extend the same pathos to him that I would to a real life person. It is the writers' duty to make me feel for him, and they did not. The way he's framed is the issue. And here is where I really start retreading things I've said before, but I think it needs to be repeated (again and again and again). Aang is not framed as someone who has a lot of growing up and learning to do. I could give him a pass on his worst traits because he's a child and still growing, but the show doesn't frame him that way. The show wants me to see him as a precocious imp who's wise-beyond-his-years but still has a cheeky lil' mischievous streak. It's not trying to frame his lying to the quarreling tribes in The Great Divide as a bump in his journey to becoming an effective leader bridging different people together. It wants the audience to laugh at him getting one over on the foolish tribes who absolutely went back to fighting as soon as Appa was out of sight. The show isn't framing his desperation to get the village in Avatar Day to like him as a foolish pursuit he needs to get over if he wants to be strong in the face of adversity. It wants us, the audience, to feel bad for him because his charm isn't immediately bringing the people over to his side. It wants us to be indignant that the villagers don't see how important Aang is and wont' support him. The show isn't framing Aang's non-con kisses with Katara as bad because it hurt her. It isn't making a point to that Aang needs to care about her feelings. It wants the audience to feel bad for Aang and hope for Katara to come around because he's A Nice Guy™️©️®️. Aang is never shown to be a particularly good friend to any of the Gaang, let alone him being kind to strangers just because that's his heart. All of that I would allow to be just him being a dumb kid with growing to do if the show hadn't made it clear that Aang was perfect and didn't have to change, and in fact the world should change for him.

Aang's age and tragic backstory are irrelevant because the show made them irrelevant. All they left us with was a Gary Stu character who hides his selfishness under a thin veneer of cheerfulness. It's not good enough.

[mariacallous]

According to the internet, I’m a “boy mum”. It’s not a term I’d heard until I gave birth to a baby boy. Suddenly, I was being bombarded with videos about the nightmare in store for me. This was footage showing the kind of destructive male-toddler behaviour that Jackass stars Johnny Knoxville and Bam Margera would deem too risky. Meanwhile, their mothers were portrayed as longsuffering, harried, hard-as-nails veterans of the boy-toddler insane asylum.

My son is very physically active, but he’s also a gentle, cautious child, so this doesn’t resonate with me, or with several of the “boy mums” I know. (Meanwhile, some of the “girl mums” spend their days chasing their Tasmanian Devil-esque daughters like they’re in a Looney Tunes cartoon.) Yet it’s everywhere. Then, last week, I saw a report that found girls were playing outside less than boys, even at two years old – something that shocked the researchers, who hadn’t expected to see socialised gender roles emerging so early.

It didn’t shock me, sadly. Not when I’m regularly tearing my hair out in clothes shops trying to find something for my two-year-old son to wear that isn’t black or camouflage, like he’s a ninja, or a small soldier already primed for aggression.

“It’s not our fault, but we’ve all internalised that ‘boys-take-up-more-space’stereotype,” Kirstie Beaven, the founder of Sonshine magazine, a publication geared towards raising boys for a more equal world, tells me.

“Girls’ clothes are made for sitting still and looking pretty, while boys’ clothes are made for activity, even in the baby or toddler sections. Parents of babies tend to underestimate girls’ gross motor skills – expecting they will be less competent than boys at crawling or climbing – and we’re all more likely to encourage our sons to take physical risks, and expect our daughters to ‘be careful’.”

Beaven says that by the time our children are two years old, we probably don’t expect our daughters to need as much outside time. “Nor are they as comfy or confident when they are outside,” she says. “If your shoes are too flimsy to climb a tree or your T-shirt is cut uncomfortably short and tight, it’s not surprising you want to go home early.”

As a 90s tomboy kid raised in dungarees, this thought breaks my heart a little. A lack of outdoor physical activity will disadvantage girls from a young age, and these gendered expectations harm boys, too, as Ruth Whippman, author of the book BoyMum, tells me.

“The flipside of the ‘boys play outside more’ phenomenon is that parents as a whole give boys less of the kind of quiet indoor-type attention that they give to girls,” she says. “Wide-scale research across countries shows that from as early as nine months, parents spend more time with girls on activities such as learning letters and numbers, singing, drawing and telling stories. Girls now outperform boys at school and researchers believe these differences in parental time inputs account for a significant portion of the difference.”

What I loved about Whippman’s book was that it beautifully conveyed the internal battle many intelligent feminist mothers found themselves having when raising boys who may be conforming to certain stereotypes.

“When my three boys were small, people used to tell me all the time [that] ‘boys are like dogs – all they need is food and exercise, and just try to wear them out’,” Whippman says. “I used to absolutely hate it, as it seemed so dehumanising. But perhaps what I hated even more was the fact that in our case it was kind of true.”

Of course, like most mothers, she initially held herself responsible.

As with many of these questions, a complex interplay between nurture and nature is involved, and it’s stupid to deny biology any kind of role. Whippman highlights how male foetuses get a shot of testosterone in the womb that has been linked in other mammals to a tendency to play more roughly, while girls may be able to sit still and focus for longer at younger ages because the areas of the brain responsible for impulse control and emotional self-regulation generally develop earlier in girls.

The point is, though, that parents often increase this divide by failing to correct their own unconscious biases and help their kids work on the areas where they could improve their skills. As Whippman puts it: “When it comes to gender, as parents, we end up turning small differences into big differences.”

Seeing how much my little boy needs me, how much touch, affection and reassurance he craves, has been one of the most educative experiences I’ve had since I became his mum. I’ve known many men whose feelings as little boys were neglected, often in contrast to the comfort and time any sisters’ emotional needs were given.

“If we don’t let boys express all parts of their personalities and emotional lives because they are just ‘wild monsters’, we are not only doing them a huge disservice, we are storing up problems in how they interact with others in later life,” says Beaven, who also says that the “boy mum” stereotype boiled her blood.

If we are to tackle the crises in violence against women and in male mental health, we need to be open about how damaging these stereotypes are for boys as well as girls. That starts with being honest with ourselves about how much we, as parents, are encouraging them. That’s why you’ll never find me identifying as a “boy mum”, no matter how much the internet wants me to.

[ultimate-character-design]

The 3rd Character Design Tournament

Please remember to vote for characters solely based on their design, rather than which character you are more familiar with or like more! Reblogs for more reach are much appreciated as well.

Violet Evergarden | Violet Evergarden

“Other than looking insanely pretty and having a great colour combination, pretty much nothing in Violet's design was done just because. She looks like a doll with very blue eyes and velvety hair. The doll look is also achieved through the way she's dressed, but especially through her very neutral facial expression. When she finally starts expressing herself through smiling and crying, she starts to look a little less doll-like and more human, which perfectly mirrors her personal evolution from being just a tool to becoming a girl with wants and needs. Her prosthetic arms are just really fucking cool, but are also a physical representation of Violet as a person. Something that is cold and heavy and is capable of destruction, is now used for the beautiful art of writing letters. It's also kinda cool how she got her arm prosthetics after her final battle and now has to get used to the new unfamiliar arms same with her new unfamiliar emotions. Her taking of her gloves and revealing her prosthetics is something that never gets old, no matter how many times she does it. Then there is her outfit itself. The emerald brooch, a key and center piece of her design, has the color of her deceased love's eyes. The cravat thingy it is usually attached to is on one hand again very doll like, but due to the imperfections/the holes in it, it's also a nod to her not so perfect doll-like past in the military and also reminds me of her military clothes. Her whole outfit is a perfect mix of pretty and functional, combining a subtle military vibe with the mailman uniform of her new work place and the pretty attire of the automemory dolls. I just love her whole design and how much it represents her.”

Loop | In Stars and Time

“They are a star person! When they get angry their face sparks, and when they get upset they lose some of the sparkles around them! Also their eyes are different shades!

Even without a mouth, their expressions are portrayed perfectly through the above and body language!”

“Loop’s design works extremely well with their overall role in the story and personality. The game has a (very much purposeful) kinda “saccharine Tumblr found family” vibe with the rest of the (human) main cast, but Loop’s amps that vibe up so much that it becomes obvious condescension which is visually seen by their blindingly white star head, which is usually all you can you see of them.

At the same time, later in the story Loop becomes the only actual calming presence in the cast, as the protagonist not having to pretend that he is doing well mentally in front of them, in part due to Loop’s hostility not giving them any reason to. As such the calming starry black void represents this part of their role in the story!”

[makncheese12]

Alkaline pt. 1

Part 2,

A/N: decided to make this into a series. And I’m giving you all a last name because I FEEL like it so HA.

Warning: my writing per usual

Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader (umbrakenetic)

She’s staring..

How rude..

Make her stop!

I don’t like her..

Throw her out the car..

She’s not to be trusted..

Let’s make her fear a little more..

The whispers chanted around you, your eyes stayed glued on the window and the passing trees as the lady your mother called your ‘Nanny’ stared at you. Wide eyed and alert with how close she had to be in the small car.

What kind of sixteen year old needed a Nanny?

She usually stayed at least ten feet away from you in hopes the shadows would not taunt and tease her. It didn’t help though, they would follow her around to torment her through her days inside your home much to her dismay.

She thought it was you, trying to chase her off with after your statement that you preferred loneliness than to be accompanied by the middle aged woman. She seemed to linger more after your comment to your mother as if she had betrayed you by telling her.

But it was not you, how could it be when you had bored figures following you all day? Though you did not appreciate her presence, you tolerated her for your mothers sake of you not being alone all your life. The shadows thought differently.

But what could you do? Sure, you could control the shadows around you but only if they allowed you to. They had their own mind much like ghost and did not like the idea of being told what to do in a condescending way.

So you did what you normally did, sat back and watched the chaos. They knew her intentions and made it their mission to torture the young woman sat three feet in front of you. You were glad they didn’t whisper everything to her like they did you, she would go insane within a week.

They thought that was to merciful, - if that’s what you call mercy - so they did what they did best; torment her. They’d pull her hair, move things out of place and even make them fall to scare her, they would throw things and whisper things to her that would have her breaking her neck to look behind her to see no one. Any sane person would have left already and you did not know why she hadn’t.

The money..

Greedy..

Pathetic..

Ah. That’s right.

“Leave her be, we’ll be away from her in time.” You mutter quietly and they seem to move around at a faster pace around you. The lady tenses at the sight of your mouth moving very little while nothing but small noises came out.

Fine..

No fun..

A small smile forms on your face at their rare obedience before your head turns toward her. Her body stiffens and she visibly gulps, eyes wide as she looks at you.

You felt bad for her. You remembered your first years of their taunts and whispers but now they seemed to tolerate your presence far more than anyone else.

There was a silence, an eerie one. Even for you. The only sounds that you could hear were the ones of her heavy breaths and the rumble of the car.

She gulped once again before forcing her features to soften.

“It’s good..” she started with the same smile the shadows did not like. Fake and deceiving they called it. “you’ll be able to see your mother throughout the year without any worries.”

That’s right. Your mother had decided upon herself to sign you up to be a student at Nevermore; a school for outcast. It worked out, especially after last years events.

She would replace the teacher who had caused chaos and destruction. - the shadows thought they’d enjoy her by your mothers description. - Though this time the school had made sure she was an outcast and not out to eliminate their students.

You hum in response before turning back to the window. You had no desire to conversate with the woman who only did so to get rid of your stare. She knew you hated speaking and she spoke too loudly.

“At least you won’t be alone..” she says slowly followed by a nervous chuckle clearly unaware of you brushing her off.

“She will definitely be better company than me.” Her way of saying she was ready to get rid of you was strange.

You barley turn your head and send her a glare that has her sinking further into her seat before scooting farther away and pressed up against the door.

We’re here!

It’s lovely..

Many places to hide!

Mamas here..

Your eyes travel back toward the window as their chants grew and the once bumpy road begins to smoothen out.

You had to agree, the sight was indeed lovely. It was a large castle. Dark and old, almost ancient with how busted up it looked but it also had some features more modern. Remodeling, you had assumed, to give the place a more welcoming feeling.

It did not.

The only thing out of place was the broken second tower, it was as if it had been struck by lightening so many times that they gave up on fixing it. A good theory.

As the car came to a halt you couldn’t help but notice the shadows in the windows, some new and some having left you to explore. New shadows meant new voices. You were happy for the company.

You also take notice to the large amount of cars in the area. People, a lot of them. You were not happy for that company.

You step out of the car as the driver rushes to the back to grab your things. You only spare him a glance before looking to the nanny who looked at the place in disgust almost. Clearly her taste were far different from yours, a horrible thing really.

While she wore bright colors you wore all black, the shadows didn’t like color. Especially when it was nearby too often, perhaps it was a reason they did not like her. She was around too often with her colorful clothes yet her personality lacked it, she was too much into fitting in.

You turn quickly before she wouldn’t notice your stare and make your way inside leaving her behind.

You begin to notice the other families as they bid their good byes to their children while others spoke to other parents.

More than likely flaunting their children’s successes or their own, or perhaps they enjoyed each others company and spoke of other things. Doubtful, but there was hope in the older generation.

Your eyes scan the large open area of people, the students were not in their respective uniforms due to it being opening day which was expected. After all you weren’t, the black sweat shirt and jeans only proving it further.

Suddenly you feel a presence beside you and the voices begin to grumble and disappear at her appearance.

“Isn’t this lovely.” She said as a mother passes by with a large group of teenagers your age as they scratch their heads, push each other and make noises you both found strange.

Yes, very lovely.

“Perhaps you’ll find some friends in such a school, people like you.” Her words were meant to be comforting but you couldn’t help but take offense. She was a normie - a choice you wished your mother did not make when choosing a Nanny - so she didn’t understand the struggle of fitting it, especially in a school full of freaks that also avoid you.

You found the thought strange, her fitting in. You imagined she was disliked by her friends with how dull and fake she was.

You glance down toward her with a scowl that makes her shiver even though she doesn’t look up at you.

You did not like her.

You decided to refrain from looking at her any longer and scan the area once again. It was open, it lead into halls inside and outside of the school, had areas to sit and a large fountain in the middle where people seemed to linger.

It was also dark in the corridor‘s, benches placed in the perfect places to hide away from prying eyes and stay out of the sun.

Yes, you were going to like it here.

Your eyes then land on familiar ones and you can’t help but feel relaxed at the sight.

Your mothers bright eyes squint slightly as she smiles at a large group of female students along with a woman who stood at an impossible height beside her.

An introductory, you had assumed based on the knowledge she was not only a teacher but a ‘dorm mom’ she called it.

Her eyes snap to yours and soften further making you feel yours do the same as a small smile forms across your face.

She looks back down to the girls and says something causing the group to glance toward you and your nanny as your mom moves toward you.

“Hello, dear.” She calls out with open arms you immediately let yourself fall into. Literally. The height on the woman was no joke. Yes you were taller than usual, lanky even, but she lacked height that you assumed was from your father.

Mama!

So soft..

She smells good..

Whose this?

I like her.

Familiar and new voices sound through your ears as you straighten your posture and look down at the woman inspecting you.

“You look delightfully pale, as usual.” She said with a large smile. The teasing gesture you were so used to it made you soft, you had to admit. But only for her.

She was quite literally a ball of sunshine, a light manipulator. Opposite to you and your father. Convenient you had taken all of his genes.

“Have you been putting on extra sun screen?” She asks with slight concern. She knew how it had affected you more than most and you nod.

“I packed some as well.” You mumble as she reaches up and straightens your hair back. “As did I.” She smiles before a large figure steps beside her, the color they wore burning your eyes from the reflection of the sun making you suddenly remember why you all hated color.

You looked up to see the tall woman smiling down at you in a creepy way. Another fake smile you had to put up with, fantastic.

“You must be Y/N Tasseas.” She says in an almost calming voice. Perhaps she was that bad or your mother told her things already.

You simply stare up at her, examining her features. She was the opposite of you, more so than your Nanny who wore real color. She wore all white, her hair included. How odd.

“You’ll have to excuse Y/N, she’s not really a ta-“

“Aren’t you supposed to be dead?” You ask interrupting your mother who falls silent at your comment.

You watch her eye twitch twice as the shadows begin to bark out laughter around you, asking you to say more.

“Y/N!” Your mother says, turning toward you and hitting your chest. You don’t move and continue to stare up at her unblinking, which the shadows helped with as they guarded your eyes from the sun and air that passed by.

You wait for an answer that never seems to come but you could wait. You came up just above her chest so you didn’t have to crane your neck to look at her and you weren’t easily intimidated.

Who does she think she is..

Why won’t she answer..

Weems is upset..

Hide..

Her glare suddenly left as quick as it came and turned into a smile. “No, I am not.” She says eyes never leaving yours. You had to admit she was brave. “Though I was injured in last years event, I have fully recovered since then.” She breaks the eye contact between you two the smile at your mother and you can’t help but feel your own form. Oh how you loved making people uncomfortable.

“Quite the expensive fate.” You mutter to yourself as your gaze travels back to the crowd that was growing larger.

A lot more people than before. This should be fun.

You grimace at sight and you can feel the area around you eyes darken, the shadows moving at a quicker pace at your sudden sour mood.

“It seems it’s time for our speech.” The principal says as she turns to your mother whose smile grows at the thought of her own personal introduction.

The taller woman walks off and your mother turns to you, she raises her eyebrow before giving you a wink.

“Lillie!” She says and your nanny jumps slightly before stepping forward. “Seems you won’t be needed for a while, why don’t you go home until this is over.”

Her face lights up and she nods eagerly. “Of course Mrs. Tasseas!” She says before glancing up at you with a smile. “Enjoy your time here, Y.N.” She says before rushing away.

You roll your eyes and look back to your mother. “She shouldn’t be needed at all.” You mumble as your mother pushes a piece your hair back into its place.

“Mhmm.” She says with a smile before turning on her heels and rushes after Weem’s who had already started her speech.

You take a shaky breath in to help calm yourself and the shadows, it helps little but they seem to settle down as you watch Weem’s usher your mother forward.

Tell us a story..

Story time!

We get stories?

“Later,” you mutter quietly as your mother begins talking. The more younger shadows seem to like when you tell them things they never got to hear before their death. “That’s for bedtime.”

A chorus of claps sound out causing you to do the same as your mother steps back with a smile. Perhaps you could tolerate the place for her.

————

“Yoko, this is your new dorm mom, Mrs. Tasseas.” Weem’s says as the girl opens her suitcase and looks back with a smile.

“And this is her daughter Y/N, your new roommate.” Her smile falls as you step forward looking through out the room.

She had posters taped all over the walls, most of the furniture red and her own items liter the place. You didn’t mind due to the fact the curtains were drawn and the place was dim. That’s all that mattered.

“Roommate, huh?” She asks stepping forward to inspect you herself over her sunglasses. Her eyes resembled those of a vampire that had been bred out of Pureblood, a normal color rather than the crimson it should have been.

She continue to stare you up and down, from the tightness of your tied shoelaces, to your black fingers, and to your face that seemed to be overly aware and sensitive to everything around you.

Wide eyes, stiff shoulders and clenched jaw. A strange sight for the teenager who was probably far older than you.

“You’re nightmares with be our dreams.” You mumble without looking away and she flinches back slightly when you buck at her.

You can’t help the smile that forms on your face when both your mother and Weem’s sigh. Yes, the girl had been warned before hand about your personality but that didn’t mean you had to show it so soon.

“Our?” She asked with a raised eye brow, completely ignoring your statement. A sudden dark presence forms behind you and the girl stares wide eyed at the faceless figure.

“Yes, our.” You repeat as a few more form around the room, staring at her without eyes before disappearing as quickly as they came.

She blinks once, twice, three times before smiling. “I like her already.” Though her tone seemed unsure and hesitant.

Strange..

I call under the bed..

No fair!

Move it..

Your mother lets out a sigh of relief before smiling. “We’ll let you two get settle then.” Her entire being lightens up the room before leaving behind Weem’s.

“Okay, I can’t lie.” You hear Yoko say making you slowly look away from the door and to her. “You’re just a tad bit creepy.”

You knew the facade would leave when they did. Teenagers always seemed to do that when adults left.

You raise an eye brow in amusement. “That was the goal.” You reply before moving to the other side of the room, ignoring her items and posters. It was her room before you - perhaps for a long time - you didn’t exactly have to right to demand she move her things.

Besides it gave it a little life, it would simply be too dark for her if you had decorated it yourself.

“No, like, I’m used to creepy at this point,” she says as she plops herself down on her bed to watch you open your own suitcase that sat on your bed.

“I just got used to Wednesday, but you’re up ten notches compared to her.” The statement piques your interest.

“Wednesday?” You ask taking a seat on the bed to face her, hands in your lap as you stare at the girl watching her shift uncomfortably under your gaze for a moment.

“Yeah, our very own Lydia Deetz,” you try to create a mental image and form it into a figure in the middle of the floor.

Yoko stares in disbelief at her as the figure looks between the two of you. “Much shorter,” she says smiling growing as it shrinks. She stands and begins circling it and it’s head follows.

“Two pigtail braids and bangs, baggy clothes and a glare that looks like she wants to kill everyone.” You stare at the dark figure and Yoko narrows her eyes at it. “Close enough,” she decides while nodding.

“Expect she doesn’t do that.” She finishes and reaches a finger out and pokes it causing it to pop into a dark cloud of smoke that slowly dissipates into the floor.

“She’s more so scary - no,” she thinks for a moment before coming to her conclusion, turning to you slightly. “I’d say Intimidating, While you got this eerie feeling to you.” She says tilting her head slightly as she once again inspects you.

“You’re style is way different though,” she states and you glance down to your black and white converse, - the little color they allowed you to wear - it was a simple look, perhaps this Wednesday had a knack for dressing up.

“Curious.” You mumble before looking back toward your unpacked suitcase.

“Don’t sweat it though.” Yoko states as she pulls out her phone and begins angry texting. “I’m sure she’ll like you much more than the rest of us, you’re just like her.”

The term was starting to annoy you. Being compared to other with similarities to you was starting to get frustrating, especially when they’re slowly getting much similar.

Everyone was their own person, except you don’t let the social tower tell you what you can act like. You’d prefer to act how you wish to when you wish to.

She’s texting about you..

I thought we would like her..

I like her..

Tell her to stop..

You let out a quiet shaky breath before standing and pulling out the dark clothes to put into you closet.

“Let her, she’s not harming anyone.” You mutter quietly ignoring the glance Yoko gives you when you do so.

————

You couldn’t sleep. Both you and the voices restless in the new environment but that’s to be expected. You had the reassurance of the ones who were already here but that wasn’t enough, most left to sweep the halls searching for threats others stayed in a protective circle around you.

Still, it wasn’t good enough. You would have to do it yourself.

You tap the top of your phone. 3:43 good, no one would be up to find you wandering around.

You push the blanket back gently, your legs swing across the bed before your feet touch the cold floor. You glance toward Yoko’s bed to see her completely knocked out, sunglasses off and hair slightly freezy as she snores quietly.

You slip your socks and shoes on and grab the zip up jacket hanging off the side of your bed. You quickly yet quietly slip through the door and watch Yoko before shutting the door.

The late summer breeze immediately hits you as you step out into the open, you had shorts on seeing as it was still warm but you still couldn’t help but feel a little chilly as the wind passes you.

The circle gets tighter around you in the process, warming you up slightly.

You begin you trek across the school, inspecting every dark corner in the process to make sure nothing was hiding. It eased your nerves every time you saw that one did not have anything hiding in it.

It was a good time to go out and look for things in the shadows, though the moon was bright. A waxing gibbous, the night before a full moon where the werewolves would go out and run around like maniacs something you were not looking forward to.

Stop..

Someone’s coming..

Hide!

Dark hands reach out for you in the closet corner and you allow you body to fall into their grasp, the darkness taking over your completely.

Their whispers are hushed and panicked as they speak of whoever they saw while you just wait and watch feeling their arms tighten around you as the person nears.

The foot steps are quiet and careful and as it gets closer you still can’t help but notice how quiet they still are.

Suddenly a figure comes from behind a corner, pausing for a moment before stopping to look both ways and deciding to walk in your direction. The arms tighten even more, suffocating you in a sense as you take in a final breath.

Something was also following close behind, it moved quickly in an unusual way and the closer they got you saw it was a hand. A stitched up and decapitated hand. How very unusual.

Your eyes travel back to her to see the resemblance to Yoko’s description. Short, pigtails, baggy clothes and the look of a murderer.

You also noticed how much different she actually looked compared to you, Yoko was right about the style difference yet hers was also simple, the only difference being the white that went along with the black perfectly.

You hold your breath as she walks closer. Even the shadows get quiet in her presence before she passes you, unbeknownst to your dark aura and you let out a small sigh.

Unfortunately, the hand was far more observant than the girl. That or it had heard your silent sigh somehow.

She continues to walk as it stops and.. looks up toward you? The shadows growl and hiss silently as it begins to inch toward you.

Once in the dark corner it taps around the area of your foot before coming in contact with it. It freezes for a moment before feeling more. First the shoe laces, then the tongue and then your bare leg and that was enough to make it start to shake and scatter back.

It taps the ground frantically until the girl stops and glares down toward the hand.

“What is it, Thing?” She asks impatiently making it snap two times and point twice toward you dark corner.

You curse this ‘Thing’ silently as her eyes travel toward you and the whispers begin to grow louder. Hisses, growls and howls are heard making the hand shake and rush toward the girl who stared, wide eyed.

You noticed that it was more so readiness rather than fear in her eyes, as if she’s willing to fight off whatever could be lurking in the shadows. She was a fool, you decided.

We should have grabbed him when we had the chance..

Don’t go..

She’s pretty..

Yes..

Let’s lock them both away to keep them silent..

You let out a sigh and the shadows seem to understand as their grip on you loosens and allow you to step out.

Her eyes snap from the corner to you as you step out, black smoke forming at the bottom of your feet before traveling in all directions. Her eyes look down to watch it pass her feet and Thing scurries up her leg to get off the ground.

They look back to you, your posture stiff under her gaze. The look in her eyes was almost dangerous as if it were begging you to try something she wouldn’t like. You had to admit, she did make you feel intimidated.

But what was worse was the first thing that left her mouth. “You do know there’s a curfew, right?”

She completely ignored the fact that she had missed passing you or the way you appeared from the darkness. She was more worried about the fact that you were out passed curfew as if she wasn’t. Yes, very curious…

“You are not a student?” You ask, head tilting slightly as dark hands grip the back of your shirt; ready to yank you back if she tried anything herself.

Her chin lifts slightly before humming, looking you up and down. The way she did it was different from the way Yoko did it, it made you sweat and your heart pound slightly. It made you want to go back into hiding, not a good look. You felt almost awkward, as if, for once, you didn’t know what to say.

“You must be Wednesday.” You say as the whispers pick up again repeating her name. If she heard them she doesn’t acknowledge it as she nods.

“You must be Y/N.” She says looking over you once again yet her expression never changes, much like your grandfathers. You knit your eye brows together and give her a confused look.

This amuses her. “Your roommate talks too much for her own good, she might even spill your secrets next.”

“I don’t have secrets.” You reply quickly and the shadows giggle before circling around her to inspect her themselves.

“Secrets only bring people who want to butt their noses into your business.” You state matter-of-factly and the girls gaze seems to grow intense. “And I don’t like people doing that.”

Your eyes meet hers for a moment, she’s searching for something. What exactly? You don’t know but you allow her to without breaking eye contact but decide to speak while she does so.

“Why are you out so late?” You ask unknowingly as you shift away from the corner slightly allowing her to see the hands that pull back in. If she were to intimidate you why not give it a shot yourself.

It didn’t work, she simply glanced at them before looking back to you. If she was scared she was good at hiding it.

“I enjoy walking during the night, especially before it gets loud in the next.” She refers to the werewolves that were growing restless of the approaching moon.

A lie..

And that it was. She herself was walking the school to search for any unwelcome visitors, after last years events she couldn’t help herself. It made her feel nauseous knowing that the feeling in her was dread that it could happen again just by her mere presence at the school.

Who better than to investigate than the one who saved it herself?

“And you?”

“I’m looking for signs of any threats.” There was no need to lie, not ever. You didn’t see the point if people would figure out the truth eventually.

“Threats?” She asks as she follows you through the corridor, now walking to feet away to your left. “After hearing about last year we do not feel safe.” You mutter as your eyes scan toward the dark areas of the quad.

She stays silent as she follows you after all her intentions were the same as yours, you were just far more open about it.

“But then again no where is safe, dark things linger in dark shadows.” You mutter, much quieter than last time but with Wednesdays heighten senses she heard you.

“Yet, you just so happen to be lingering in the shadows.” She says and you look down to meet her hard gaze, it was questioning yet hopeful at the same time.

“It’s not impossible you could be those dark things.” She says and you can’t help the smirk that plasters across your face, the smug look makes Wednesdays eyes narrow. She was smarter than the rest, more observant.

“And linger I do,” you say look back forward, smirk still on your face. “But I simply only watch, that’s the way to learn who the dark things are that like to hide plain sight.” Your smirk falls as the whispers quiet down slightly, they we’re starting to grow tired.

“Have you found any yet?” This was her asking you if there was something she should be worried about. Maybe? It’s what it sounded like to you though. You simply shake your head as you look through out the quad, the dark areas clear of any shadows in your view. You imagine it’s far darker to Wednesday.

“Seeing as there are no threats here,” you state stopping suddenly making the much shorter girl stop as well. You were desperate to get away from her gaze, something you only found you doing with your mother. It was strange with anyone other than her.

The moon light hit her skin perfectly in the open area, she was pale but still had a good amount of color to her for her skin tone, freckles scatter her face and you wonder how many you would be able to count before leaving.

“I’ll leave you to your walk, Wednesday.” You don’t give her a chance to respond before walking toward a corner, hands begin reaching out as you near before pulling you in and it’s almost as if you weren’t there. She would have thought you weren’t if it were not for the fading black smoke that looked at her feet.

Wednesdays eyes linger on the area where you disappear, the internal conflict in her head began.

A sudden tap on her shoulder catches her attention and she looks down to see thing who does a sudden hand motion.

“Yes, she was strange.” She replies with a nod and he quickly begins moving again. “Perhaps in a good way, yes.”

He stops for a moment, clearly deep in thought before doing quick hand signals again. I think you should talk to her again.

The statement was simple yet it conflicted Wednesday entirely. Could she trust you? You were the one who said dark things aren’t safe.

“Perhaps I will, she seemed to scare you enough to have you hiding.” She says and the angry taps began. Wednesday would have smirked if it weren’t for his fingers that were pressing into her shoulders.

“I enjoyed the silence, perhaps I’ll hunt her down just to shut you up again.” The angry taps increased making the girls lips curl oh so little.

A/N: please tell me the conversation between them at the end was good? I found it difficult to write it but I already have future conversation ideas it’s just this one was weird and i didn’t know what to do.

I tried to make it a little awkward as they both aren’t used to being around people like them

Please give me your thoughts 🥲

[tanadrin]

I see the points people are making that “addiction” is maybe not the ideal model to discuss this, but I also am very sympathetic to the idea that some people have problems with compulsive porn/masturbation to the point that it’s detrimental for them. I’d never claim there’s a chemical dependency as in, eg, smoking or cocaine use or something.

We need a simple word for “habit that has negative effects on my life, but which I don’t seem to have the self-control to eliminate”. Calling it addiction was/is supposed to encourage efforts to help people stop, but all it’s seemed to do is spawn the growth of weird evangelical 12-step programs for being horny.

I want to be horny, if anything, I’d like to be much *more* horny, that’s why I’m trying to quit watching porn.

for reference (and why this is on anon) I’ve probably jerked off 1-3 times a day, every day, for like 10 years, this isn’t a case of catholic guilt over mild sexual behavior. I have a very hard time staying aroused, I have a hard time even getting aroused, and I have a hard time finishing without fairly intense stimulation. If I take 1-2 weeks off of porn (challenge level, nearly impossible) I see improvements in these areas.

Several years ago, I made it almost 6 weeks, and by the end of it, I was firing on all cylinders like I was 19 again. Sadly, it apparently wasn’t the sole issue. I went to the club, picked up a woman, I got hard when we were dancing, I got hard when we were making out outside the bar, but when we were in my car and she put her hand on me, my guy was nowhere to be found. She went home by herself, I went home and was so horny I was able to get 110% hard and jerk off purely from my mind. Idk where that energy was when it counted, sadly.

Weirdly, taking a break from orgasming but continuing to watch porn often actually makes it worse. I tried edging for 8-10 days once, and by the end of it, I could barely get hard for my favorite types of video.

I’m in my late 20s now, and I know some things slow down, but I thought I was still a bit young for this type of thing. The problem is that I just can’t stop scrolling porn on twitreddit. When I’m bored, porn, when I’m lonely, porn, when I’m anxious, porn (and I’m anxious a lot).

A few months ago, I made it a week, and I was buzzing and confident, but then I backslid and went back to my old habits. It was nice while it lasted, I’d deeply missed feeling that little twitch of arousal from a random thought or from flirting with a pretty stranger. I feel neutered these days, there’s no hunger anymore.

I don’t think I’m anti-sex, really. I’ve only felt guilt from casual or relationship sex a couple of times, and my guilt from masturbation has more to do with frustration that I know it’s bad for me than with some idea of moral inferiority.

sorry if this is insane.

I really just want to stop watching porn so I can try to start dating or sleeping with people again, not much point when I’m 97% afraid my cock won’t work. It might not medically be an addiction, but for me it’s definitely a self-destructive habit.

sounds like a bunch of different things going on here. for one habituating yourself to a very specific kind of stimulus can make it hard to get off in other ways--one approach that seems to work for some people who are in a similar boat (especially men who are used to jerking off with a firm grip) is to vary how you masturbate, use different kinds of stimulus, and learn to come in other ways. masturbation provides a very close feedback loop between stimulus and response, in a way that is always going to be very different from partnered sex--most people who masturbate regularly can make them come much more quickly that way, even if they find, in absolute terms, sex with a partner to be much more pleasurable.

(an important component in re-habituating yourself like that is not to fall back on the technique that works when you get frustrated and can't come, which is why it can be difficult for some people to manage)

separately from this, having trouble maintaining an erection with a new partner is also a thing lots of men report, regardless of how much porn they look at--sometimes you get nervous! it's easy to get nervous with a new partner! this is why god invented oral sex and fingering. that kind of picking-up-a-stranger-at-a-club casual sex works well for some people, but it sure doesn't work for everybody. and because arousal and erections are heavily dependent on state of mind, being nervous about being able to get an erection can, unfortunately, make it harder to get and maintain an erection. so there's a feedback loop there that can be pretty hard to break.

thirdly, if the only filler in your life is porn--if you spend a lot of time bored or anxious with nothing to fill those gaps other than porn--it sounds like a big problem here might just be boredom or anxiety, fundamentally. i don't know you, so i'm speculating, but maybe you need hobbies, or more of a social life, or are having issues with low-grade depression that getting out of the house more would help with. and if you're fixated on porn as the cause of these issues rather than just a symptom, you're also going to be struggling with the self-esteem hit of falling back into the habit of looking at porn, which is happening because, well, you're bored and anxious and you have nothing else that helps you deal with that feeling.