#even more destructive than herself? INSANITY

[razables]

creation/destruction

echoes

[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

[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.

[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

[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...

[callmemonster68]

fallen angel | n.rk - ni-ki

Cast out of heaven for breaking the rules, but finding redemption in the pleasures of a mortal.

paring: angel!ni-ki x fem!reader 18+ | masterlist

wc: 1,307

warnings: nsfw content, unprotected sex

Niki, the fallen angel, had been banished from Heaven with a seemingly eternal sentence. Each feather of his once-radiant wings now carried a sinister black hue, a mark of his transgression. He wandered among humans but found no solace. His nights were consumed by insatiable desires—a hunger no mortal seemed able to satisfy… until he met Y/N.

The first time he saw her, something inside him shattered. It wasn’t just desire—it was need. She was like a whispered prayer in the darkness of his soul, and Niki knew she would either save him or lead to his ultimate destruction.

One night, under the pale moonlight, he approached her. His presence was intense, as though he drew the air from the space around him. Y/N stared at him, both intrigued and cautious. He seemed otherworldly.

Niki: You feel it, don’t you?

His voice was deep, a whisper laced with dark promises. He lifted a hand, almost touching her face, but stopping just short.

Niki: The power that surges between us…

Y/N took a step back, but he followed, his eyes gleaming with something more than human.

Niki: You want me as much as I want you.

He smiled, cruelly, as though savoring the thought.

Niki: Don’t run. I’ve already decided… You will be mine.

━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━

The days that followed were a game of power. Niki appeared whenever he wanted, invading her dreams and her reality. He made Y/N feel small but powerful, as if she had control over him—though she knew it was the opposite.

Niki: You enjoy this, don’t you?

He whispered, gripping Y/N’s chin firmly, forcing her to look at him.

Niki: The way I hold you, how I dominate every part of your being. Don’t deny it. I can feel your heartbeat quicken

S/N: You’re insane.

Niki: Maybe, but you belong to me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that never changes.

Then he disappeared again, leaving Y/N in confusion, unsure if it had all been a dream or if it was real.

━━━━━━━ ⟡ ━━━━━━━

This time was different. He didn’t wait for midnight to find her. It was early evening, as Y/N went through her nightly routine before bed, that he appeared. Startled, she jumped at the sight of Niki’s devilish grin. He enjoyed testing her limits, teasing her with words that carried as much desire as threat.

Niki: You’re fragile, human, but that’s what excites me. Watching you break… and beg me to continue.

Y/N tried to pull her arms away, but he laughed, low and husky.

Niki: No. Not so fast. I told you, you’d be mine. And fallen angels don’t break their promises, little one.

He moved closer, pressing their bodies together, studying her reactions. He leaned in, his lips just a breath away from hers. When she didn’t pull back, he closed the distance, kissing her—a wild kiss from the start. Y/N broke away, gasping for air, which only made Niki laugh, a deep, throaty sound, as though reveling in her innocence and desperation.

Niki: You want this as much as I do, giving in so easily. I knew it would happen, but you’re outdoing yourself—like a desperate little puppy at my mercy.

Y/N’s face flushed deep pink, her body growing warmer. She couldn’t deny it—she felt fear, but she was desperate to be touched, consumed by him. And he knew it, savoring the anticipation of what was to come.

Niki guided S/N to the bedroom. With a snap of his fingers, her clothes lay in shredded pieces on the floor. She tried to cover herself with her hands and arms, but Niki stopped her. Kneeling, he picked up a scrap of fabric and used it to bind her hands behind her back, gagging her as well. Y/N didn’t resist; she knew she wouldn’t win a fight against him. Truth be told, she wouldn’t say it aloud, but she was growing more eager for what was to come.

Y/N had long realized that Niki was a sadistic, cruel brat who would ruin her in every way imaginable—and she wanted it. She had spent her life searching for someone who could break her, someone who could destroy her completely. She never found it—until now. She was about to have the most painful and pleasurable experience of her life.

Niki conjured a dagger with a black blade, and Y/N’s eyes widened in fear of what he might do. His usual devilish grin was in place, his eyes alight with desire as he trailed the dagger toward her soft skin. He pressed the blade lightly against her neck, causing a superficial cut, and then pulled it away. Locking eyes with her, he leaned in and licked the blood from the wound, sucking at it. With her blood still on his lips, he kissed her.

She would have found it strange—disgusting, even—if a friend had described such an act. But here she was, finding it unbearably hot. Niki pulled back.

Niki: That was just the first. I’ll mark you every time I take you. It’s a sign, a warning, a confirmation that you’re mine—and you’ll be marked as such forever.

In an instant, Niki stripped himself bare. Y/N was stunned by the sight of him, especially by the size of him—it was the largest she’d ever seen. Her mouth watered with desire, and Niki didn’t miss the reaction.

Niki: You filthy bitch, staring at my cock like a starving dog eyeing a bowl of food.

A loud slap echoed in the room. Niki had struck Y/N across the face, bringing tears to her eyes. The humiliation he was making her feel only heightened her arousal.

Niki: On all fours on the bed, now!

Y/N obeyed immediately, her face pressed against the mattress, her ass raised high—the most perfect sight Niki had ever seen. He climbed onto the bed, positioning himself behind her. He aligned his cock with the wet entrance of her pussy. One hand gripped her bound wrists while the other tangled in her hair, forcing her face down. Without warning, he thrust deeply into her.

Y/N felt a mix of pain and indescribable ecstasy as he stretched her walls, reaching depths no one else ever had. His rhythm was brutal, relentless. He fucked her while degrading her with the dirtiest insults, and with each one, her pussy clenched him tighter.

Niki: Filthy little human, you like being treated like a cheap slut. Then that’s exactly what you’ll get.

Without warning, Niki pulled out. He untied the scrap of fabric binding her hands and set her free. Tossing her aside, he ripped the gag from her mouth and laid back on the bed.

Niki: Come on. Ride me!

Y/N got up, positioning herself over Niki. She aligned the head of his cock with her entrance and locked eyes with him.

Y/N: An angel? You’re nothing but a depraved demon. You shouldn’t even have the right to keep those wings.

Smirking, she lowered herself fully onto Niki’s cock. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, leaving marks on her skin. S/N rode him with fervor, setting a rapid, devoted pace.

Niki: You’re the one who should be an angel, so divine, with such a perfect pussy—lifting me to heaven.

Y/N: Your cock fills me so perfectly. It’s like I’m being possessed by the Devil.

It didn’t take long for both of them to climax together. Y/N collapsed onto Niki’s bare chest, both of them utterly spent. As Niki ran his fingers through her hair, Y/N traced her fingers along the feathers of his wings.

Suddenly, a cold air filled the room, and a mist began to form. Y/N felt the feathers of Niki’s wings vibrating beneath her hands. Their startled gazes met, and in a quick motion, both sat up, facing each other on the bed.

Within seconds, the mist enveloped Niki, and when it dissipated, his wings had vanished. Y/N’s eyes widened in shock as she noticed something unusual atop Niki’s head.

S/N: Niki, you have horns on your head!

This story is part of the universe of ’ Divine Sins: Immortal Fantasies with ENHYPEN ’ created by me.Description:Seven sensual and mysterious tales that delve into the desires between mortals and immortals. Inspired by the members of ENHYPEN, these stories reimagine the group as powerful gods and a fallen angel, all wickedly alluring and irresistibly seductive. Each narrative immerses readers in a world of fantasy, unveiling forbidden passions, divine secrets, and the overwhelming intensity that sparks between celestial beings and an ordinary human. A universe brimming with lust, mystery, and the captivating allure of the forbidden, where every story is an invitation to desire. Contains mature content.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿

[belit0]

Hello,I found your blog and loved the way you write I haven't seen many blogs writing about Indra. I fell more in love with him thanks to you; Indra, we thank you because there is the Uchiha clan, could you ask Indra, Madara, Izuna, Shisui, Itachi and Sasuke to have a partner who, from a very young age, has been raised to be a very strong warrior by her father, who had no more children, and who, because of that, is a woman who follows the philosophy of you are born a warrior, you die a warrior? Her training was very spartan, which allows her to fight them for hours. She is a very disciplined woman (she would be able to do harakiri if she found herself cornered and without escape by the enemy). I love your writing.☺️☺️☺️

Thank you!!! also, this (y/n) is just insane ajdhaksdh

Indra

The sword breaks first.

Her shoulder follows.

She doesn’t cry out.

She just breathes, staggered, dust clinging to sweat on her temple as she struggles upright with her dislocated arm.

He watches from the shade of the trees, obsidian eyes unblinking.

–You should stop.– Indra says at last.

She lifts her bladeless hand, regrips the broken hilt in a reversed grip.

–I am not done.

Indra steps forward, slow. His aura is still, unreadable.

–And if this were war, and your arm could not be used?

–I would grip my blade with my teeth if I had to.– she answers. –A warrior does not yield until the heart stills.–

He doesn’t smile. He only speaks once more, voice low:

–Even warriors deserve a moment of mercy.

Then, he sets his own sword down… and begins to reset her shoulder with hands gentler than war should allow.

Madara

He’s angry.

Not at her—but at the way her fingers bleed from training, knuckles split and red down to the nails.

She’s wrapping them again, too tight, too crude.

She doesn’t ask for help.

–You’re going to ruin your grip.– Madara growls, crouching in front of her to snatch the linen from her hand.

–A ruined grip is better than unfinished form.

He meets her gaze, fingers halting mid-wrap.

–That’s not strength. That’s self-destruction with discipline as the excuse.

She flinches—just a blink.

And Madara, not one for gentleness, bandages her properly.

Tighter than necessary, but not cruel.

His voice lowers.

–Let me help you hold the sword. You don’t have to bleed for it every time.

Izuna

She doesn’t laugh.

Not even when he falls flat on his back after their third spar of the morning, gasping.

–You are… merciless.– he groans into the grass, one arm thrown over his eyes.

She stands above him, motionless.

–You asked me not to hold back.

–I meant it, but still…

When she turns to leave, he grabs her wrist—not hard, just enough to stop her.

–You know you don’t always have to fight alone, right? I can spar. I can bleed. I don’t mind. But I can also stand with you.

She stares down at him like she doesn’t understand the language.

But her fingers don’t pull away.

For her, that’s the loudest yes in the world.

Shisui

She trains alone at night.

He knows, because he’s watched—silently, from the rooftops, for weeks now.

One night, he doesn’t stay hidden.

He drops in beside her, catching her wooden blade mid-swing.

–You're going to burn out your shoulders if you keep those movements so tight.

She blinks. –Then I will rebuild them stronger.–

–Or you’ll tear something and lose them altogether.

She goes to step around him. He steps with her.

–You don't have to keep proving yourself every night.

Her jaw sets. –I’m not proving. I’m preserving. If I stop moving, I forget who I am.–

He touches her shoulder, barely.

–You are not only what you can kill.

It’s the first time she flinches.

Itachi

She holds her blade like a monk holds prayer beads—ritualistic, reverent, controlled.

Itachi watches her breathe.

Watches her move.

Watches her win.

And then he watches her hesitate—only for a second—when the fight ends and no one speaks to her.

No praise.

No name.

No touch.

That night, he leaves a folded cloth beside her gear.

Inside: a single kanzashi hairpin made of blackened steel.

Beautiful.

Deadly.

Elegant.

He never says it’s from him.

But she wears it the next morning, her hair held in a warrior’s twist—without ever letting it fall in her eyes again.

Sasuke

He hates how quiet she is.

She beats him.

Then walks away like he didn’t even matter.

So he calls after her.

Loud.

–You think pain makes you stronger? You think dying for a sword makes you better than the rest of us?

She turns. Slowly.

–No.– she says. –It just means I don’t fear death the way you fear weakness.–

He doesn’t know why, but it stings more than it should.

Later, when she sits alone beneath a tree with her blades beside her, he drops a rice ball near her knee.

Not a word exchanged.

But when she eats it, slowly, he feels something shift.

Not forgiveness.

Not affection.

But acknowledgement.

And that’s 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.

[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.

[windcarvedlyre]

Smile at Hope in the Name of Despair: on Komaeda and Nanami's deaths in chapter 5

Formalising the tags on this as their own thing because I'm going insane. Shoutout to @kaiokentimesten for letting me bounce ideas off them and looking over this before it was posted.

TL;DR:

DR2 Nanami is the person Komaeda desperately tried and failed to be over the entire killing game.

It makes their mutual destruction that was simultaneously a double suicide in chapter 5 even more meaningful.

Komaeda was someone who considered himself apart from the rest of the group, a supporter instead of an equal, and didn't see any future for himself with them due to circumstances beyond his control. Nanami was... someone who considered herself apart from the rest of the group, a supporter instead of an equal, and- based on how her FTEs ended- didn't see any future for herself with them due to circumstances beyond her control.

Both had strong ideologies around human worth that drove their actions over the game and led to them valuing other people's lives over their own. Chapter 5 culminated in both of them willingly sacrificing themselves for the greater good.

But their reception by the rest of the cast was very, very different for very obvious reasons. And the differences between them ultimately led to Nanami achieving everything Komaeda wanted, both on the surface and on a deeper, more emotional level, while he completely failed to.

On Komaeda

On the surface Komaeda strives for 'hope', right? He always acted for (what he believed was) the greater good by (in his perception) helping more talented people bring it about. Go slightly deeper and we see that he didn't actually just want to hang out in background, he wanted to be important, albeit in a vicarious way. He actively went against the will of everyone he tried to 'serve', engineering deadly conflicts behind their backs and manipulating the flow of information in trials, because he had his own ideas about what was best for them which coincidentally always had him pulling the strings. While initially unaware of his hypocrisy, his final message acknowledged this and took it to an extreme.

Go deeper still and it turned out that he truly wanted to be loved. For people to care about him and give a shit he existed. All of the above may have been, in my view, subconscious proxies for that: the only way he knew how to make people love him. Praise him. Raise statues to him. Remember him as the Ultimate Hope. Please.

But Komaeda didn't understand what hope is. His idea of it was too abstract, too utilitarian, too black-and-white. He reduced his classmates to interchangeable vessels of hope*, their individual value as living people dependent on their potential for it, and often callously discarded people that no longer met his standards. This ironically made him more of an agent of despair, especially after chapter 4 shattered a load-bearing part of his beliefs and destabilised him further.

He made the class despise him, died alone and afraid, and (if it had been real) would likely be remembered as an unwell person that tried to kill everyone. At most he garnered respect for his intellect, made the survivors take his luck seriously, and had Hinata torn about him posthumously; a lot of conversations during his investigation were more preoccupied with the end of the killing game than him no longer being with them. Had his plans ever succeeded, his final legacy would have been clearing the way for the creation of 5-15 new Junko Enoshimas and snuffing out what little hope humanity had regained. He took out someone who was virtually the Naegi of DR2 and her death ended up being the only one that stuck.

*There's nuance to that depending on the situation- and his views in general, especially considering DR2.5- but this is about his behaviour during/when planning murders and how it shaped his classmates' opinions of him. I have a post about it here!

Nanami, on the other hand...

...had a fundamentally different approach to morality, hope and what gives a person worth. She was built to have compassion for people that most of society would consider irredeemable: people whose net impact on humanity was extremely negative, who likely couldn't reverse that even if they aided humanity for the rest of their lives. She believed they had worth regardless and deserved a chance to be rehabilitated. Her death was only possible in chapter 5 because, even having seen Komaeda at his worst and knowing he was dangerous, she still believed in him and his right to second chances and tried to save him twice.

She was kind, level-headed, and had her own key moments in trials. People liked her and didn't reject her presence or tie her up in a draughty building for days. Hinata's heart raced when he did FTEs with her and he worked around the ways she was weird instead of storming out of conversations prematurely.

Faced with a choice between her life or everyone else's, forced by one of the very people she existed for, she willingly faced death and helped persuade everyone else to kill her (another thing Komaeda spent the entire game trying in vain to do). This wasn't easy, even after they reached consensus about Komaeda's luck, because she was their friend and they were distraught to see her die. By doing so- and again when she helped Hinata posthumously in chapter 6- she ultimately saved them, their 'dead' classmates (Komaeda included) and the rest of humanity, and her loved ones would never forget that.

Komaeda set out to dedicate himself to hope- to be remembered and loved as someone who heroically sacrificed himself for humanity. But Nanami was the person that actually achieved his dream.

-

As a final note, I love how the chapter's title- which I started this post with- can be applied to both of them. Komaeda idolised hope but his actions often brought about the opposite. Nanami sacrificed herself for Ultimate Despairs because she knew the real meaning of hope was believing in a better future.

[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.

[bad-holmes-impression]

would sell one-third of my soul for season 1 of tts but for 14+.

-diving into rapunzel’s guilt over touching the rocks as she tries to do that typical “filler” stuff, so the audience isn’t wondering why the problem isn’t being addressed, but rather, wondering how much longer until she breaks and addresses it.

-more character focus (honestly, i want this for the whole show). cassandra had some good development in season 1, but i’d love it if it delved into eugene struggling to reconcile his past with the fact that he lives in a castle now. with. you know. the guy that almost had him hanged.

-more eugene and lance flashbacks, particularly lance-focused stuff.

-more time with varian (particularly the varian-rapunzel and varian-eugene dynamics). really integrating him into the faces we think of when we think of the main cast, even if he isn’t necessarily their friend. or, heck, actually making him their friend.

-the destruction of old corona in real time. maybe making it the image shown during the credits! like, we see the normal village, and then, with each passing episode, the rocks overtake it further, pushing themselves into the picture as the sky gradually darkens.

-a varian pov episode with the masked men outside his house as he battles lingering sickness from the storm. we can even combine this with “the quest for varian” as rapunzel investigates his abandoned, cobweb-covered lab.

-would. would it be too ridiculously angsty of me to ask for varian to inject ruddiger with the growth serum onscreen. because i kind of want that.

-blood during the finale. be it cass’, the rocks causing eugene an injury, or a spike plunging through the automaton and across the side of varian’s face, leaving a scar that lasts forever and the very obvious symbolism going hand-in-hand with it.

HONESTLY THIS GOES FOR S2 AS WELL.

-cass actually struggling with her rotted hand.

-rapunzel making excuses to herself that no, she’s not just ignoring her problems all over again, because she’s traveling! she’s figuring out how to stop the black rocks! it’s fine!

-treating lance being poisoned with way more depth, because. like. that shouldn’t be made into a funny scene. we can let lance not be the comedic black best friend once. i’m begging you.

-flashbacks to corona and varian’s prison breakout, along with his internal redemption and andrew manipulating him.

-cass’ transformation into moon cass visibly making her look more gaunt, like how the flower healed gothel but in reverse. also having her be possessed by zhan tiri, at least for part of her arc.

okay fine we’re going into season three because this post is spiraling out of control

-letting varian sacrifice himself for corona, except there’s obviously some magic thing that still saves him. but that really should have been his redemption moment. the climax. *”there was room for two on that door, rose” voice* there was room for two inside that hair shield, rapunzel!

-either making quirin actually dead or at least doing some kind of fakeout.

-king edmund showing more signs of mental illness.

-multiple episodes where lance is at least featured with angry & cat. slowly but surely maturing enough to adopt them.

-varian’s voice getting more strained in “nothing left to lose” after being hit with the rocks. (jeremy jordan is an insane-level performer— i know he could’ve sold that so well and i’m baffled why they didn’t tell him to.)

-zhan tiri being much, much creepier.

-cass deteriorating more physically than just being pale, causing people to naturally show sympathy for her instead of. you know. a sadistic grin as she wields a sword effortlessly.

-the moonstone not healing cass’ disability.

-varian either getting to freak out inside that rock cage, or us seeing him consciously force his panic down. he’s still human even though he’s a genius, and he was confined hundreds of feet above the ground for about a day.

-not recreating the new dream moments in the finale, but giving us some original cass stuff that means just as much. this also comes with seeing what killed cass.

-making it clear that varian chose the role of royal engineer. also that he got to bring hot running water to his village first, the way he wanted to.

-depending on how cass’ arc is handled, either letting her be captain of the guard or exiling her with a hint that she’ll return to rapunzel in secret.