#perhaps even something of a tragic villain

[jjoelswatch]

Always amuses me (read: exhausts me) when people are surprised and angry when Star Wars creators refer to Thrawn as a villain and act like it’s the end of the world because the creators don’t “get” the character.

[sunderwight]

SV AU where Luo Binghe answers Shen Qingqiu's "do you want power?" question differently, so Shen Qingqiu cannot mentally justify pushing him into the Abyss, and resolves to just let the System kill him instead. Even though he doesn't want to die, it's probably still better to just get yeeted out of his body than to be brutally dismembered after forcing his favorite disciple to suffer terribly.

However, the System picks up on this philosophical shift in the user, and begins to take counter-measures.

Without-a-Cure ratchets up exponentially. Around the same time, Luo Binghe discovers an ancient record in the libraries that claims some rare compound or other which can only be found in the Endless Abyss, is reputed to cure all poisons, even the most deadly spiritual kind.

When Shen Qingqiu is too weak to even attend the Immortal Alliance Conference, Luo Binghe initially plans to stay by his bedside. But then he overhears Shang Qinghua whispering about a mysterious plot with a being on the other side of a portal, about arranging a demonic invasion, and afterwards, his shishu mutters something about the Endless Abyss.

Luo Binghe returns to his unconscious master's bedside, and begs him to hold on for however long it will take, because Binghe will return with the cure.

By the time Shen Qingqiu's fever breaks, the Immortal Alliance has come and gone, and with it his poor disciple. What's worse, the whole cultivation world seems to have caught on to the fact that Luo Binghe is a demon! That wasn't supposed to come out yet! But without Shen Qingqiu to help shield him, his seal broke early and in front of more than a few witnesses. Cang Qiong has fallen under a lot of unflattering speculation for harboring such a "creature".

Shen Qingqiu supposes he should have known that there would be no escaping fate. And yet, even with the knowledge that Binghe will come back, and that this time he won't even harbor a grudge against his master for pushing him in, that -- in a sense -- Shen Yuan has been spared and this is probably the 'best case scenario', somehow it's not any easier to deal with. Especially not when he knows that his poor disciple doesn't even want the rewards that will follow after it, that he's suffering for nothing except the fickle mandates of some narrative destiny.

Also, he didn't figure out that Shang Qinghua is Airplane, so he has no fellow transmigrator to understand or help him vent. He's just alone in his knowledge, sickly, fretted over and grieving (not that he can admit the latter), while the sect whispers that the Xiu Ya sword is probably not long for this world now. If the poison doesn't kill him, perhaps his disgrace will. Cang Qiong's good name has been dragged through the mud, and Huan Hua Palace is looking to beat it down further. There are even some who claim that Luo Binghe must have been behind Sha Hualing's earlier invasion, and poisoned his own master because of it! Shen Qingqiu can't stand such talk, nor the pitying, condescending looks he receives whenever he tries to defend his disciple's character.

The writing is on the wall, however. If Shen Qingqiu won't die as a scum villain, the story seems to be planning to kill him off as the tragically deceased mentor.

Meanwhile Luo Binghe takes longer to get out of the Abyss this time. Not for lack of motivation, but because he needs to find his goddamn macguffin first! And then he has to protect it, and get both it and himself safely out of the Abyss! Which means he can't just rush through killing everything, he has to take his time to plan and prepare, even though he wants to rush through because every minute he spends in the Abyss is another minute where Shen Qingqiu could be dying.

When Binghe finally gets out, it's to find that the righteous sects, headed by Huan Hua Palace, are conducting a formal investigation into Cang Qiong Mountain, specifically into the allegations of consorting with demons and the corruption of the Qing Jing Peak Lord. He hurries to the palace to intervene, though by what means even he's not sure.

He arrives just as the Huan Hua Palace disciples are removing Shen Qingqiu's nearly-lifeless body from the water prison.

Just in time for the expected stirring final words of his old shizun, Shen Qingqiu thinks. Imagine his surprise when Luo Binghe force-feeds him a weird potion plus like a liter of blood. Binghe, this is not the dignified end that your shizun had planned!

[thewriteadviceforwriters]

Villains vs. Antagonists (Guide For Writers)

Hey there, fellow writers and wonderful members of the writeblr community! 📚✍️ It's Rin here and...

Today, we're diving into a topic that's close to many writers' hearts: villains and antagonists. These characters often steal the show, driving our plots forward and giving our heroes something to push against. But here's the thing – while these terms are often used interchangeably, they're not quite the same. So, let's unpack this, shall we?

First things first, let's break down the difference between a villain and an antagonist. It's a distinction that can really elevate your storytelling game!

An antagonist is simply a character (or force) that opposes your protagonist. They're the obstacle, the challenge, the thing standing in the way of your main character achieving their goal. Here's the kicker: an antagonist doesn't have to be evil. They could be a rival love interest, a stern parent, or even nature itself.

A villain, on the other hand, is a specific type of antagonist. They're the bad guy, the evildoer, the character with malicious intent. All villains are antagonists, but not all antagonists are villains. Mind-blowing, right?

Let's look at some examples to make this clearer:

In "Romeo and Juliet," the feuding families are antagonists, but they're not villains. They oppose the protagonists' desire to be together, but they're not evil.

In "Harry Potter," Voldemort is both an antagonist and a villain. He opposes Harry (making him an antagonist) and he's also evil (making him a villain).

In "Cast Away," the island and the challenges of survival are the antagonists. There's no villain in sight!

Now that we've got that sorted, let's dive deeper into how to create these characters and use them effectively in your writing.

Creating Antagonists:

Define their opposition: What specifically does your antagonist do to oppose your protagonist? This could be physical, emotional, or ideological opposition.

Give them a reason: Why are they standing in your protagonist's way? Even if it's not justified, there should be a reason that makes sense to the antagonist.

Make them strong: Your antagonist should be a worthy opponent. They need to pose a real challenge to your protagonist to keep things interesting.

Consider their perspective: Remember, your antagonist is the hero of their own story. Try writing a scene from their point of view to understand them better.

Create contrast: Your antagonist should in some way contrast with your protagonist. This could be in values, methods, or personality.

Creating Villains:

Establish their evil: What makes your villain "bad"? Is it their actions, their beliefs, or both?

Develop their backstory: How did they become evil? A compelling villain often has a tragic or twisted history.

Give them dimensions: Pure evil can be boring. Give your villain some complexity – maybe they love their cat or have a soft spot for classical music.

Create a strong motivation: What drives your villain? Greed? Revenge? A twisted sense of justice? The stronger and more relatable the motivation, the more compelling your villain will be.

Make them smart: Your villain should be clever enough to pose a real threat. They should be able to anticipate and counter your protagonist's moves.

Now, let's talk about how to use these characters in different genres. Because let's face it, a villain in a romance novel is going to look very different from one in a fantasy epic!

In Romance: Antagonists in romance are often rivals for the affection of the love interest, or perhaps societal norms or family expectations standing in the way of true love. Villains are less common, but when they appear, they might be abusive exes or manipulative friends trying to sabotage the relationship.

Tip: In romance, make sure your antagonist's motivations are clear and relatable. We should understand why they're opposing the main relationship, even if we don't agree with their methods.

In Fantasy: Fantasy is ripe for both antagonists and villains. You might have a Dark Lord seeking to conquer the world (classic villain) or a rival magic user competing for the same goal as your protagonist (antagonist).

Tip: In fantasy, world-building is key. Make sure your antagonist or villain fits logically into the world you've created. Their powers, motivations, and methods should all make sense within the rules of your fantasy realm.

In Mystery/Thriller: In these genres, your antagonist is often the perpetrator of the crime your protagonist is trying to solve. They might not be evil (maybe they committed a crime of passion), or they could be a full-fledged villain if their crimes are particularly heinous.

Tip: In mysteries, your antagonist needs to be clever enough to challenge your detective protagonist. Leave subtle clues about their identity or motives, but make sure they're smart enough to almost get away with it.

In Literary Fiction: Here, antagonists are often more abstract. They might be societal expectations, personal flaws, or even time itself. Villains in the traditional sense are less common, but morally grey characters who oppose the protagonist are frequent.

Tip: In literary fiction, focus on the nuances of your antagonist. They should be as complex and flawed as your protagonist, with their own rich inner life.

In Sci-Fi: Science fiction offers a wide range of possibilities for antagonists and villains. You might have alien invaders, oppressive governments, or even well-meaning scientists whose creations have gone awry.

Tip: In sci-fi, make sure your antagonist or villain is consistent with the technological and social aspects of your imagined world. Their methods and motivations should make sense within the context of your sci-fi setting.

Now, let's dive into some tips to make your antagonists and villains the best they can be in your novel:

Make them believable: Whether you're writing a mustache-twirling villain or a morally grey antagonist, their actions and motivations should make sense within the context of your story and their character.

Give them a personal connection to the protagonist: The conflict becomes much more engaging when it's personal. Maybe your antagonist and protagonist used to be friends, or they're fighting over the same goal.

Show their impact: Don't just tell us your antagonist is a threat – show us the consequences of their actions. Let us see how they affect your protagonist and the world of your story.

Give them wins: Your antagonist or villain should have some successes along the way. If they're always failing, they won't seem like a credible threat.

Humanize them: Even if you're writing a truly evil villain, give them some humanizing traits. Maybe they have a pet they dote on, or a tragic backstory that explains (but doesn't excuse) their actions.

Make them adaptable: A good antagonist doesn't stick to one plan. When the protagonist foils them, they should be able to come up with new strategies.

Give them their own character arc: Your antagonist or villain should grow and change throughout the story, just like your protagonist does.

Use them to highlight your protagonist's strengths and weaknesses: Your antagonist should challenge your protagonist in ways that force them to grow and change.

Consider their presentation: How do other characters react to your antagonist? How do they present themselves to the world versus who they really are?

Don't forget about henchmen: If you're writing a villain, consider giving them some underlings. This can add depth to their character and provide more challenges for your protagonist.

Remember, whether you're crafting a dastardly villain or a complex antagonist, these characters are crucial to your story. They're the ones who push your protagonist to grow, who raise the stakes, and who often drive the plot forward.

But here's a gentle reminder: while it's important to make your antagonists and villains compelling, be mindful of the impact your writing might have. If you're dealing with heavy themes or traumatic events, handle them with care and sensitivity.

Now, I know we've covered a lot of ground here, and you might be feeling a bit overwhelmed. That's okay! Writing complex characters is a skill that develops over time. Don't be afraid to experiment, to try different approaches, and to revise and refine your antagonists and villains as you go.

One exercise I find helpful is to write a short story from your antagonist's or villain's point of view. This can help you understand their motivations better and ensure they feel like real, three-dimensional characters.

Another tip: watch movies or read books in your genre and pay special attention to how they handle antagonists and villains. What works well? What doesn't? How can you apply these lessons to your own writing?

Remember, there's no one "right" way to create these characters. What matters is that they serve your story and engage your readers. Trust your instincts, and don't be afraid to push boundaries or subvert expectations.

As you work on your antagonists and villains, keep in mind that they're not just there to make life difficult for your protagonist. They're an integral part of your story's ecosystem. They shape the plot, influence character development, and often reflect themes or ideas you're exploring in your work.

And remember, writing is a journey. Your first draft of an antagonist or villain might not be perfect, and that's okay. The beauty of writing is in the revision, in the gradual sculpting of characters until they leap off the page.

Lastly, don't forget to have fun with it! Creating antagonists and villains can be some of the most enjoyable parts of writing. Let your imagination run wild, explore the darker sides of human nature, and see where your characters take you.

I hope this deep dive into antagonists and villains has been helpful and inspiring. Remember, you've got this! Your unique voice and perspective will bring these characters to life in ways no one else can.

Happy writing! 📝💖 - Rin. T

Before you go, why not join us at The Write Right Society? We're a supportive Tumblr community where writers lift each other up. Whether you're a newbie or a pro, we'd love to have you! Share your work, get feedback, and connect with fellow wordsmiths, writers and aspiring authors. 

[evilwizard]

The Lich Who Stole Christmas

Every tumblrina in tumblr liked Christmas a lot.

But the lich, who lived just north of Tumblr, did not!

The lich hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season! Now, please don’t ask why. No one quite knows the reason. It could be his skull wasn’t screwed on quite right. It could be, perhaps, that his skin was too tight.

But I think that the likeliest reason of all… was his heart was encased by a strange lead-lined ball.

“Last year I made something that I thought in would usher

A new age of magic—my prized OrphanCrusher.

But my patents were stolen, and my sweet new invention

Is now being used… with good-ish intentions.

You see, Christmas wishes contain lots of magic;

And my device extracts it through methods so tragic

That I dare not mention them directly here

Though the name might clue in certain readers, I fear.

The Wizard Council, now that they possess this device,

Might use it, this year, to stamp out wizard vice.

Though the process might turn quite a few kids to carrion,

The Wiz Council’s ethics are utilitarian.

So what shall I do? What is to be done?

It seems rather clear that this Christmas can’t come.

But I’ve read a few books, and I know a few tricks

So this year I’ll steal Christmas, while dressed as Saint Nick!”

So the wizard of evil returned to his lair

Stitched a red suit, and did up his hair

Built a sleek sled—and—who among us,

Could hope for a much better Rudolph than Krongus?

They took to the skies, that next Christmas Eve,

And tailgated Santa, whom they hoped to deceive

At every house he left presents, they quickly descended,

And stole the decor and the gifts he’d intended.

And when the dark wizard’s sleigh was full-loaded with gifts,

He tugged at the reigns, and they made for The Rift!

A place where the veil between worlds was thin…

And a brilliant place to dump the gifts in!

“You see,” he told Krongus, as they approached that strange crack,

“Once something goes in, it can never come back!”

“Moreover, it’s perfect,” the wizard did sing,

“For The Rift destroys every part of that thing!”

“Every instance, every atom in all multiverses,

Will be undone as though by my special dark curses.

Not a gram, not a dust speck or mote shall remain,

And no one will even remember their name!”

“But sire,” muttered Krongus, “would it not be more precise,

If you simply put in the OrphanCrusher device?”

The evil wizard thought of this, parking his sleigh in the snow.

He’d made quite a trip, and this seemed quite a blow.

“I do have one here,” he told that weird devil.

“But destroying Christmas seems rather more evil!”

Then, far behind him, and the gifts he had pillaged,

He heard a small noise coming from Tumblr Village.

It was simply a song, of holiday spirit,

But the wizard was utterly shocked just to hear it.

“It came without ribbons! It came without tags!

It came without packages, boxes or bags!”

Then the lich thought of something he hadn’t before.

Could it be Christmas was some kind of contagion or spore?

What happened next? Well, in Tumblr, they say,

The lich’s dead heart exploded that day!

And the combustive force of that villainous blast,

Airlifted the sleigh, and brought it right back,

To the village, where Tumblrinas rejoiced!

Then continued to sing, and lift up their voice.

And back at the rift, the lich, with head in a spin,

At the edge of the rift dropped the OrphanCrusher in.

So Christmas was saved, by accident mostly,

Though performing a good deed turned the bad wizard ghostly.

“Come, Krongus—we must now return to my tower,

While I wait several months to return to full power.”

And at Wizard Council HQ, certain strategist seers,

Saw all this occur through the orbs that they peered.

They smiled, and high-fived, and struck up the band,

Pleased that these events had gone just as planned.

[helvegen-s]

Rage, rage | six

index

Pairing: Azriel x Hybern!Princess!OC

Summary: Nimue was a gift for the King of Hybern. His shining jewel, the perfect heir. However, she is clear about who the villain of the story is. When she saves her father's enemies from a tragic end, she realizes that now it's the Cauldron who has a gift for her: a mate.

Warnings: fighting, mentions of ptsd, just some fluff, enemies becoming friends and becoming lovers

Days and weeks passed, and Nimue found different ways to entertain herself and pass the time.

She had learned to appreciate Nesta's company, Feyre's older sister, with whom she spent long hours in silence, reading, sitting side by side in the library. She was a rough and direct person, but there was something that made them understand and fit together, like two sides of the same coin. Perhaps it was the fact that both had been inside the Cauldron that made Nimue understand her attitude, even though the others didn't.

She also spent long hours sitting with Rhysand. Sometimes Feyre, Morrigan, Amren, Cassian were present. Never Azriel.

They asked questions, and she answered the best she could: where the bulk of Hybern's forces were located, how many troops it had, who supported the King among Prythian's courts, what he was going to do with the Cauldron...

For many, she didn't have the answer, and she couldn't ignore that feeling of uselessness when she shrugged at their questions. She should have known all that. Her father didn't trust her in the slightest, not even to entrust her with the most absurd of information.

She had also started spending time with Amren, with whom she could spend hours and hours talking about the world, about magic, about how everything was related. They shared their own perspectives on the world, as Nimue found in the small female an equal: two ancient and powerful minds trapped in bodies that were too small for them.

However, the knowledge that Amren transmitted to her about Prythian's history was incredibly vast. Yes, Nimue had knowledge of the things the Cauldron had transmitted to her, but she still had so much to learn that she couldn't help but tremble with excitement.

On the other hand, Nimue also felt drawn to the fragile Elain. Like with Nesta, she felt a connection with the female, due to her relationship with the Cauldron. The Cauldron itself had said it, it had given her two sisters, and Nimue felt her chest swell just thinking about it.

According to Nesta, the Elain she saw now was a mere shadow of what she had always been in reality: a sweet and bright girl, warm like the spring sun, but extinguished by the traumatic experience of the Cauldron.

However, on rare occasions, when she and Nesta sat in silence reading in the company of the quiet and lost Elain, Nimue would look up from the book to find the middle sister smiling at her, a smile that the princess gladly returned.

On the other hand, she had begun to forge a sweet and slow friendship with Feyre: they sat together to have tea (Cassian had taught her, what a wonderful beverage), and the brunette told her story, from the harsh poverty and through Tamlin and the Spring Court, to Rhysand and the Inner Circle.

Nimue couldn't help but marvel at seeing Azriel through Feyre's eyes, as she told her what she had experienced with them.

She was gaining everyone's trust little by little, building it day by day with small demonstrations. However, Azriel kept slipping away.

Sometimes she felt a flash of something on the other end of the bond: joy, anger, disappointment, surprise. She supposed it was moments when Azriel let his guard down and his emotions escaped through the invisible thread that connected them.

When she crossed paths with him in the hallways, he simply looked away and walked past. When everyone in the house gathered for dinner and they coincided next to each other, Azriel didn't open his mouth all night or engaged in conversation with whoever was on his other side.

Nimue wanted to get closer to him. She wanted to know him, to see him with the eyes with which Feyre saw him: a loyal and good male to the core, willing to sacrifice everything for his people and with incredible insight. A trained warrior with a dark past that Feyre didn't tell her much about.

So she began to get up before the Sun shone in the sky. She dressed appropriately and cheerfully made her way to the training field that Cassian had shown her. There, every morning without fail, she found the two Illyrian males training: with swords, with spears, with daggers, with fists...

Every time Cassian saw her cross the training yard's gate, he couldn't help but burst into laughter. On the other hand, Azriel rolled his eyes and was already in a bad mood for everything he had left to do that morning.

But he couldn't help but think how funny the situation was, seeing Nimue arrive there morning after morning, sit and watch them train with a sweet smile on her face, sometimes with her gaze lost following some birds flying around her.

Azriel wanted to be angry. He wanted not to trust her, he wanted to see her as an enemy, he wanted to convince himself that she wasn't clean.

But it was so, so difficult for him.

It was so difficult for him to convince himself that she was a spy for her father. Especially when he caught her alone in the hallways of the house, asking out loud for any kind of sweet or cake and eating it as if it were the first in her life. Especially when he saw her reading silently in the library, next to Nesta and with a smile on her face for whatever she was reading.

Especially, when at dinners he caught her staring at him, with furrowed brows. Azriel pretended not to notice. But he always saw her on the other side of the table, oblivious to all the conversations around her, gripping the knife and fork and staring at him, with that expression of incomprehension that reminded him so much of a sulky child.

He wanted to maintain that facade and not give in. But it was so difficult for him to ignore that feeling, that pressure in his chest every time he saw her, every time he perceived her scent of sea salt and belladonna poison in the house's rooms.

Especially at night when he got into bed, he found it hard to ignore the emotions that slipped through the bond: half asleep and with his guard down, Nimue let out such waves of loneliness and melancholy from her end of the bond that sometimes Azriel felt like he was going to cry himself.

So, one morning, amidst the thick morning fog and the singing of the newly awakened birds, he headed towards Nimue on the training field, under Cassian's surprised gaze.

"Why don't you show us how you fight in Hybern?" he said. Nimue stood up like a spring, her face tinged with excitement. Azriel had to take several deep breaths to assimilate the amount of joy that went straight to his chest. He cleared his throat, "Just to know what to expect in case of a battle."

"Of course."

Nimue walked up to Cassian, who volunteered to fight against the princess first.

"No magic, just hand-to-hand combat. I must also add that I don't usually fight against women, but it doesn't mean I'm going to–"

Cassian hadn't finished speaking when Nimue gave him a series of blows so fast that not even Azriel could register: first stomach, then knees, neck, and finally a finishing blow that left the Illyrian lying face down on the ground and groaning.

Azriel let out a laugh almost without thinking, and when he felt Nimue's gaze on him, he did everything to hide it.

"For the Mother," Cassian coughed, getting up as best he could from the ground. "Warn before."

"If I warned you, it would lose all the fun," she said, smiling. She turned to the Shadowsinger and pointed at him with her finger, "Now you, pretty face."

Azriel felt a chill run from his heels to his crown, and swallowed to prevent his thoughts from wandering further.

Around his shoulders and wings, his shadows fluttered as they laughed softly.

How funny she is.

Yes, very funny.

And pretty.

Yes, we want to touch her and smell her. She smells really good.

Azriel clicked his tongue and shook his head, heading towards the princess. He positioned himself at a safe distance to avoid a surprise attack like the one she had used with Cassian, and in a defensive stance, he couldn't help but give her a wicked smile.

"You'll see what this pretty face is capable of."

At a speed only a fully trained soldier could move, Nimue traced a parabola towards Azriel, approaching from his left side and crouching to avoid any counterattack. He prepared to receive the blow, contracting the muscles of his abdomen.

But the blow never came.

Nimue fell to her knees, fists raised just an inch from Azriel's body.

"I can't," she whispered. She dropped her arms to her sides and stood up, face to face with Azriel. "I'm physically unable to harm you. I can't."

Azriel frowned, internalizing every feature of the female: the arch of her eyebrows, the angle of her eyes, the light of the first rays of the sun reflected in her iris, that slight tremor on the left side of her lip that he had noticed occurred when she was tense...

He never had the pleasure to be this close to her, the only times such a thing happened he was so blinded by rage that he couldn't appreciate such a raw beauty.

He snapped out of his reverie and entered back into that mental state of combat.

Taking advantage of Nimue's distraction, he prepared to aim a direct punch at her jaw.

But just an inch away, his body stopped completely, as dictated by a greater force.

Stop.

His hand immediately unclenched, and under his own gaze, he saw how his body acted alone and by instinct: as if drawn by a magnet, his own hand rested on Nimue's cheek, who buried her face further in that sudden contact.

They held each other's gaze, unable to act upon that pure and raw instinct. Azriel's hand on Nimue's face, his thumb tempting fate on the corner of the princess's lip.

Even through the leather glove, he could feel the warmth emanating from Nimue, like that of a bonfire on a cold winter night.

The princess raised her right hand, gripping the Shadowsinger's forearm and ensuring he didn't stop touching her.

She didn't want him to ever stop.

No one had ever touched her like that, with pure warmth. She felt like she was burning wherever the male touched her.

She didn't want Azriel to ever stop touching her.

But Azriel snapped out of his reverie, again, and as fast as lightning, he moved away from the female, breaking all physical contact.

At his side, the hand that had felt the sweet touch of her skin kept clenching, as if asking for more.

Such soft skin.

Let's touch it again.

He had gone too far, letting himself be carried away by the raw instinct that bond imposed on him.

Yes, it had to be that.

He definitely didn't want to get lost again in the gray eyes of that female, clear as the light of the brightest star in the sky.

Definitely not.

Feeling the heat rise to his face, he hurried to leave the training field before his own shadows came up with the Mother knows what, leaving behind a confused Nimue.

What had just happened?

What had all that been about, why had it felt so natural, so good?

Cassian had watched the whole scene, apart, with his mouth shut and thinking about who he would run to tell first: Feyre or Morrigan.

Maybe both at the same time.

Taglist:

@lilah-asteria @agentsofsheilds @leptitlu @just-here-reading @glitterypirateduck @saltedcoffeescotch @krowiathemythologynerd @donttellthecats @annblvd @annamariereads16 @crazylokonugget @smoooothoperator

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

kai winn is one of the most tragic characters in star trek canon. shaped by occupation, by violence, and by the fates decreed by literal god-like beings that know and affect the future, and always trying to honour the rights of these gods without ever being given direction from them, while others who haven't suffered for them or at times people who don't even really believe in them are granted visions and support. she's guided by what she has before her, and she's steadfast about honouring her ideals right up until the the final straw breaks her back, and it takes a long time for that straw to land. and even that turning is apparently beyond her control, fated to have happened the whole time. she was never in control of her destiny and her destiny was never to honour her gods like she desperately wanted to

textbook shakespearian classic tragedy. you perform the exact role that you are meant to perform and you're lauded for it, except for perhaps those naysayers who don't understand or who weren't worthy of the status they have to begin with by all accounts of the rules that have always applied until now, until suddenly (or so gradually that you didn't notice the change) that role becomes something villainous, and then you shun the people who abandoned you first. it was always going to end this way. she was never going to be okay. she was never going to get answers. the narrative is the prophets and the prophets were always bringing her right here. the betrayal of it all.

[lokisgoodgirl]

Absolutely Dripping [Avenger!Loki x Fem.Reader]

A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: A very wet towel-clad god interrupts your prank. Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smutty. Extreme Loki Thirst. Language. Based on my Hot Gif Drabble: The Towel (w/c 2.9k)

You bit your lip, nerves of excitement flushing through your blood as you rounded the corner toward the men’s locker room. Revenge sat snug in the pocket of your jeans; the small bag of powder nestled against your hip. The plan was perfect. That smug bastard wasn’t going to know what hit him. You’d been planning this all week, waiting until he predictably spent Saturday morning in the Tower gym with Wilson. This’ll teach him to mess with me, you thought; grimacing at the memory of your most unflattering underwear decorating the Avengers common room like goddam bunting.

You looked around, registering the patter of a shower in use down the hall. I’ll be in and out, you thought; frantically scanning the benches. A few kit bags lay dotted around. You squinted, reading the names embroidered into their fabric; Wilson, Barton...Barnes. You smirked, tiptoeing like a cartoonish villain across the tiles, incandescent with silent glee. You unzipped Bucky’s kit bag, rummaging for the prize you sought. Why does he need so much shit for the gym, he lives upstairs; you thought, while one hand fumbled inside the pocket at your hip. Your eyes widened with excitement as they fell on the item in question. His trousers. “Reduced to indulging yourself with the stolen scent of Barnes’ raggedy sweatpants, Agent?” You froze, eyes flickering back and forth against the lockers as you stood hunched with the offending article in your hands. “You really must work on your clandestine techniques, darling. I could hear your elephantine footsteps from the shower-room.”

You spun around, clutching the black sweatpants to your chest. “Loki. Hi.”

Laufeyson leant against the open doorway, a fist holding a towel loosely wrapped around his hips. Clearly, he had been in a hurry. A dark trail of fine hair bordered the towel's edge over his Adonis belt, skin still glistening with fresh droplets of water. You swallowed.

He was soaking. Absolutely dripping, in fact. The dents in his chiselled torso glimmered with a mirrored sheen, flicking his sodden hair back from his face. Water ran down his biceps, catching in the crook of his elbow before pattering to the floor. He crossed his ankles, the jaunty confidence of his stance making it difficult to retain even a nugget of dignity. You felt your cheeks begin to burn under his amused stare.

“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing here.” you chuckled awkwardly. Loki shrugged, inspecting his fingernails. “Not really. There is a degree of inevitability within this scenario that cannot be denied.” You frowned, glancing back at the benches. “Do you...do you need your kit bag? Sorry, I’ll get out the way-”

“I do not require a kit bag.” he snapped haughtily, pacing forward across the tiles. He ran his hands through his sodden black hair, dripping tendrils pasted against his long neck. Fuck, he looked good naked. Well, almost naked. Fuck me, you thought; feeling heat rising in your cheeks. He's even hotter without the leather. He's fucking hotter. If you’d known there was even the possibility he’d be here to catch you, you’d have worn something a bit less...tragic. “You also ‘do not require’ a towel.” you sniffed, trying to sound clever and immediately regretting it. An amused smirk flickered at the god’s lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “Is that so, Agent? Perhaps I should divest myself of it, then.” he purred, careful footsteps edging closer as you shuffled, knees hitting the back of the bench. “I mean, I meant- I didn’t mean now, I meant... because you can dry yourself...you’re always saying you can just dry yourself...oh-never mind.” you spluttered, throwing the sweatpants back on top of Bucky’s bag.

The small plastic square filled with powder fell to the tiles, landing perfectly beside Loki’s left foot. The two of you stared at it, eyes rising in tandem. Loki was brimming with mischief, his wide pupils glimmering with interest in the unexpected drama in which he had become immersed.

“And what, pray tell, is that?” he said, tilting his head as you wished the ground would swallow you whole. “It’s uh...itching powder.” you muttered, pulling at the sleeve of your baggy sweatshirt. Loki couldn’t be standing more than a foot away. You could feel the heat from his shower-fresh skin wafting across the space between you. Clean, fresh musk hung in the air; like warm pine and wet leaves and sandalwood and bergamot. The scent of him. You'd always assumed it was cologne. Christ, you thought; feeling your chest tighten under a roll of feral desire. Keep it together. Trickles ran from his hair to his glistening collarbone, gathering in the hollow. Some made paths over waves of abdominal muscle, soaking into the rich cotton hanging dangerously on his hips. You swallowed, unable to draw your eyes away. "I was under the impression that on Midgard it is considered rude to stare." Loki hummed, rolling his shoulders back and readjusting the fingers toying with the tuck of the towel. "Is that not so?" Your eyes snapped upward, lips opening and closing as you searched your empty brain for a sentence that wouldn’t make you sound like a pervert.

"Mmmm..." he murmured thoughtfully, drawing his bottom lip between his teeth as he marinated in the awkward silence. "So, are you going to get that?" The side of his foot nudged at the baggie lying abandoned on the tiles below. Even his toes are sexy, you thought with an internal whine; noticing your breaths quickening as you lowered on your haunches reaching for the bag. You wobbled, hands flying to the nearest surface to steady yourself. His thighs. Oh god, no. You grimaced, feeling Loki rock into your pathetic grip above his knees. “Sorry.” you mumbled, looking up. His pointed chin was cast down to his chest, the symmetry of his face heartbreakingly perfect. You let out a light whimper.

How many times you’d fantasised about kneeling in front of him just like this, worshipping him with aching slowness. You would trap every growl of pleasure from his throat in your memory as you sucked him dry. Relishing every desperate rut of his hips further into your mouth, fingertips sinking into his bare, godly ass. You could feel wetness sliding in your panties as you bounced weakly on your calves, trying to gain purchase to come back up. They were jelly. His long thighs bulged against your hands through the towel. Imagine how he can fuck with legs like these, you thought; feeling another tide of arousal seep from your pussy. The corner of Loki’s mouth twitched, making his cheekbones sharpen in the bright overhead lights as he observed you through half-lidded eyes. The angle of his jaw highlighted his flawless bone structure as he leant forward, the sharp edges making you dizzy. His patient stare filled your head with absolute filth as you hovered with your mouth level to his crotch, rendered mute. Drops of water from his dripping locks spattered your upturned face. A solitary drip rolled down the side of your nose, catching on the edge of your upper lip. Without thinking, your tongue flicked out, drawing it in. “Are you alright, Agent?” Loki murmured with faux concern, enunciating every word as his keen eyes searched your face. Your thighs began to quiver as you balanced weakly on the balls of your feet. Loki pursed his lips, his voice as richly seductive as it was in the darkness when your fingers crept between your spread legs, alone in your bed. “Do you require some...assistance?” he purred knowingly, the slant of his eyebrows making you feel faint.

“Yes.” you said quickly, the solitary word catching in your throat. Loki smirked, his open palm appearing by your shoulder. “All you had to do was ask, darling.” He raised you slowly as pangs of discomfort shot up your legs. How long had you been down there? It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds, surely, you thought; as his warm breath skated over your lips. You realised you didn’t want to know.

“Since you are so brazenly flirting with failure in this prank of yours, perhaps it’s time to enlist the professional?” he hummed, his thumb wiping trails of moisture from your temple before resting on your cheekbone. Loki’s gaze hovered on your lips, his wide fingertip rubbing the angle of your jaw twice, before releasing you. You nodded, dazed. What the hell is wrong with me, you thought, holding up the baggie of itching powder beneath his sceptical gaze. He pinched it from your grasp, observing it with mild interest. “Well for one thing, Agent...it’s white. Even a simpleton like Barnes will notice a dusting of suspicious powder adorning his black sweatpants, wouldn’t you agree?” Your face fell, realising he was right. “But never fear, darling. Your saviour is here.” Loki winked, shaking the bag as you watched the white powder turn dark. A sly smile spread across your face, mirroring the devilish glint in Loki’s eye. He nodded, an unspoken understanding as you took the bag and opened it carefully. You spread the waist of Bucky’s sweatpants holding the legs in a tight fist and sprinkling the powder liberally in the crotch. “Give them a shake.” Loki whispered gleefully, lips stretching in a broad smile as he relished the mischief afoot. You shook the trousers, scraping the sides together to mesh the powder deeper into the thick fabric. “Good girl.” Loki murmured, folding his arms approvingly. The sound of raised voices echoed in the corridor. “Shit” you gasped, dropping the sweatpants on the floor. Loki’s hands clasped your shoulders, his broad chest inches from your face as you stared up at him, wide-eyed. His features were set in determination, fair skin and emerald eyes accentuated by wet, slicked back hair. God, he was so fucking hot. “If you are to evade discovery, drastic action is required.” he grumbled, ushering you to the side as he snapped his fingers. The sweatpants flew neatly folded into the kit bag, contents re-arranging of their own accord.

“Drastic ac-action?” you stammered, wondering what the hell was happening as your shoulders bumped against the tiled wall in the corner of the room.

Loki had manoeuvred you to a tight L shape space, a row of lockers to the side blocking your view of the door. Panic rose in your stomach, “They’ll see me, Loki, when they come across for the bags...” you hissed, craning around the corner before he pushed you back against the wall. “I think you’ve had enough opportunity to prove your skills in the art of mischief, pet.” he whispered, his forearm pressed against the wall above you, “And sadly lacking, I’m afraid.” The mockery was palpable. You grimaced, making Loki chuckle. Fat strands of sodden hair brushed your cheeks as he towered over you, encased by his semi-naked form against the cold wall. You felt yourself clench, the mess in your panties becoming untenable as he lowered covertly to your ear, lips grazing the skin. You let out a light gasp, a shudder making your knees buckle. “Just stay quiet.” he murmured, as the voices drew closer. “I have a plan.” Your eyes hovered on his twitching pectorals, an impossibly firm bicep flexing as he fiddled with the side of the towel. Moisture glistened against the veins protruding against tight skin, endless drips still caressing down the side of his stomach through deep grooves of muscle. Loki turned, the expanse of his triangular back close enough to bite. Fuck, you thought; as he raised one arm to rest on the side of the lockers, his thick trunk concealing you. You devoured the sight of his shoulder-blades adjusting, the rear of his arms even more toned than the front. Not a fingernail scratch in sight, you thought with interest, before your eyes flew wide; lips pressed tight to conceal a gasp.

He had dropped the towel. You stifled a whimper, unbidden delirious laughter building in your belly as you heard the owners of the voices fumble with the door. “Jesus Christ, Laufeyson...what the hell, man?” Wilson yelled, coupled with a low yowl of surprise from Bucky beside him. "Is it not enough you’re swingin’ that thing around in those tight leather pants 24/7? Fuck, man...puh-lease.” You bit your lip hard, the sharp pain settling rising giggles as you flattened against the tiles. Loki turned to the side, extending his arm to its full length against the wall of lockers. Wilson’s shoes were all you could see of him, the toes shuffling back and forth as he clearly tried to avert his eyes. “Apologies, gentleman. I wasn’t expecting company.” Loki purred, his ass clenching. You sucked your lips between your teeth, a silent girlish scream ringing in your brain as blood thundered in your ears. His rear was an absolute monument to marbled masculinity; it was all you could do not to sink to your knees. Imagine what he looks like from the front, you thought; cupping your mouth with your hands. A silent scream puffing out your cheeks. “Expecting?! Can you believe this guy? Dude, havin’ your dick out is cool, fine...but don’t stand there like one of your brother’s fangirls in the lobby with their ya-ya’s out, c’mon man; this is a public locker room not an Amsterdam shop-window.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about Wilson. This is perfectly normal on Asgard. A little post-workout self-care, if you know what I mean." he said knowingly, a sly twinge in his voice. "Which you just interrupted, actually.”

This was met by a humph of disapproval from the men, low tsks peppering the air as Loki re-adjusted his stance, spreading his legs wider. Wilson’s hand appeared beyond the lockers, a finger waggling toward the belligerent god. “Laufeyson. Do not stand there with your schlong in my face and tell me you were about to masturbate in the same room as my stuff. Please. Tell me that is not what I’m hearing right now.”

Loki chuckled, running a hand through his hair as you slid further down the wall; squeezed as far into the corner as you could get. From this angle, you could see the profile of his cock bobbing adjacent to one muscular thigh, semi-hard. A violent shiver rolled down your spine, brow furrowing with utter, disgraceful need. Bucky piped up. “Go wack it in the showers like a normal dude. Haven’t you just been in there?” From the direction of his voice, you guessed he was facing the door. “Whatever gave you the impression I was one of these...‘normal dudes’ of which you speak, Barnes?” the god hummed, leaning seductively against the lockers. The shoulder closest to your face tightened, his hand shifting across his hips, brushing his growing manhood. “You got that right.” Wilson spat, the squeak of trainers on the tile signalling the stand-off was over. “You got five minutes. And don’t go near my bag. I’ll know, ass-hole.” The door slammed shut, raised voices sounding from the hallway growing fainter as silence reigned in the locker room once more. Loki’s back rose and fell, the scent of his skin hanging in your nostrils like incense. How easy it would be, you thought, just to lean forward and bite him. Right there between his shoulder-blades. Loki cleared his throat. “I’m going to bend down now, Agent” he murmured, casting a cautious glance over his shoulder at your contorted body pressed feverishly against the wall. You nodded; eyes glazed. This is a dream, you thought; watching Loki’s long, lean body squat and gracefully scoop his discarded towel from the floor. This isn’t happening. Not really.

“Desperate times call for desperate measures, darling. I’m sure you’d agree.” he purred, rising and spinning on his heels, the loose towel clutched to his groin. You traced the twin valleys of definition with wandering eyes, on the thin wires of pubic hair creeping beyond the cotton’s reach. The long drape of towel swayed gently between his spread legs; the fist he was using to hold it aloft probably unnecessary.

You took a sharp breath, words forming on your tongue that choked behind your teeth. Loki stepped forward; the fine trail of darkness ghosting his lower stomach becoming a shadow.

The scent of his clean musk was overwhelming, the soaking mess in your underwear sliding against your clit as you squirmed. His bare chest pressed lightly against your sweatshirt, trapping you in the corner under his smouldering stare. A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, eyes wide in faux-innocence. “You were desperate... weren’t you, Agent?” “Yes. Thank you, Loki…” you whispered, not knowing what else to say. He hummed approvingly, stepping back to let you pass. “Forget you saw anything with the powder” you said hastily, “and I’ll um, do the same. I never saw...anything.” You waved your hands in front of your eyes for effect, casting them downward as you made your way quickly to the door. Loki’s velvet chuckle sent shivers down your spine as your fingers gripped the doorknob, his palm sliding around your waist from behind; the other flat against the door; holding it shut. He wasn’t holding the towel. Loki pulled you back against his chest, a wall of stomach muscle straightening your spine. You could feel his cock hardening furiously against your ass, rubbing upward as he thrust gently against the soft flesh. His wetted lips grazed the edge of your jaw, making your head tilt to the side. You exposed your neck with a soft moan as more droplets from his hair rolled against your skin. “Don’t you dare forget, Agent.” he purred darkly, messy kisses melting into your heated skin. “We both know that I was not the only one absolutely dripping in this locker room today.”

Tags

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[drawnfamiliarfaces]

Chase Young/First Ninja is such a good ship though? It has it all. The tragedy. The drama. The clashing of ideals, assuming Chase even has any ideals left. The villain starting out with purely selfish intentions and ending up desperately trying to stop the hero from self-destructing, while the hero refuses to turn away from his path no matter what, which leads him to become just as inhuman as the villain--okay, I will stop. Seriously though, there's probably a parallel to be made about Chase having lost his soul to his magical transformation while the First Ninja seems to be more himself than ever despite being stuck in a book. Perhaps that's the difference between someone who lost sight of what truly mattered and someone who hyperfocused on the most important things.

Anyway, I just imagined the events of RC9GN playing out, but Chase Young is chained up somewhere really inconvenient (for Randy) and giving (bad) advice the entire time, so. Laugh rule, I need to tell you your idea rocks.

NO NO, PLEASE CONTINUE TALKING 👀👀👀

This is a fascinating angle that I haven't considered before! I mean, there is trully something very tragic about an inherently selfish villain's motivations becoming just a little bit less selfish as he tries to essentially 'save' the hero from his noble self-sacrifice/destruction in the name of duty. And it really fits their dynamic, because while Chase is an evil selfish asshole, no one can deny that he is honorable and that he can care and First is certainly stubborn enough about his duty. Gives just even more angst flavor to this ship, like WOW thats something I'm going to brood about for awhile.

And yes, their transformations (ascensions?) at the cost of their souls (i mean if we look at it closely, First basically sacrificied his soul to be forever preserved??? AND lost his mortal body in the process. so, inhuman in a sense.) in pursuit of their goals, is something that I see as parallels too! (wow anon, same brainwave!!) (It's also why i really like the ship name i made up for them haha)

akljadfkadsk xD yeah!!! thats basically the idea when I first sketched out the Captured Outcome for Chase in the VS event! Chase is just sort of hanging out in his forever prison, bothering spirit of First, and Randy somehow discovers him and Chase becomes that charismatic captured manipulative antagonist that gives morally dubious advice, than Nomicon/First, to the hero (that ultimately leads to Randy accidently releasing Chase and so on). (In my head, I call this AU a Hidden Chapter because Randy is basically browsing Ninjanomicon when he accidently stumbles on a reference to Chapter/Page dedicated to Chase and tries to find the rest of the info.)

Dude thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoyed it! <3 And thank you for some good ideas like 👀 gonna use that energy as fuel for some projects. >;3c

[hanjisungslag]

haiii >_< what type of fantasy characters/stererotypes would aot characters be?

- any characters you want but def reiner pls＾ ty baby

🧝‍♀️ aot characters & fantasy

characters included: eren, armin, mikasa, sasha, connie, jean, annie, reiner, bertolt, levi, erwin & hange!!

notes: this was so fun to do omg

✧ eren jaeger - hero gone villain

okay i know this is a bit basic to do… but c’mon!! he’s literally the epitome of ‘i’ve become what i sought out to destroy’ and i just can’t think of him as anything else. he fits the stereotype too well😭.

✧ armin arlert - mage

he is soooo side kick mage, no? tell me you can’t imagine armin (specifically with the mushroom hair) wearing a wizard gown, hat and holding a magical old stick. he doesn’t like to leave his tower often but is usually forced to when something goes amiss - i can imagine him sighing deeply while reluctantly grabbing his magical old stick.

✧ mikasa ackerman - sidekick

bad ass sidekick who lives in the woods & is probably on the run. i’m thinking… arcana muriel vibes for this but less stoic and quiet (and less cursed) but, she definitely learnt to fight in the woods when she was 3 OR taken in by an old, rugged guy whose family died tragically. either way, everyone’s terrified of her but she steals bread for orphans or some heroic shit like that.

✧ jean kirsten - prince

himbo prince😭 i mean this in the BEST way possibly mkay! he’s not really a himbo however… he just gives prince who accidentally got entangled in a weird adventure and he doesn’t know how to live without servants. he’s be like “erm, i am not crossing that muddy river.” BUT THE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT WOULD BE INSANE by the end, he’d like finally understand how bad the government is or how poor the townspeople are and give them money.

✧ connie springer - the fool

sigh… the fool, the court jester, etc etc. he would be himbo prince jean’s court jester 100% and they’re like actually pretty good friends, they’ve known each other since they were kids. he also gets dragged along with jean on a weird adventure and he would be the comedic relief. (also a shoulder for jean to cry on when he gets mud on his fancy royal shoes).

✧ sasha braus - henchman

hunter/henchman hellooo…? literally expert at using a bow and arrow? grew up in the woods?? she would EAT so hard being a henchman and to make it even better, when someone hires her they don’t know she’s a girl and whenever someone finds out, they’ll be so shocked!! feminism!

✧ reiner braun - the beast

dare i say… some sort of big beast? like a big, fluffy beast but make it sexy, beauty and the beast vibes perhaps. imagine fighting this big and surprisingly attractive who lives under a bridge. IM SORRY THAT WOULD BE SO FUN… i’m thinking like diane from sds vibes too!!

✧ bertolt hoover - squire

young, little boy training to be a knight aka a squire. tell me you cant see this little cutie patootie dressed to the nines in armour, learning how to swing a sword?! maybe him and annie trained together or dare i say, he looks up to her.

✧ annie leonhart - knight

sworn shield to a princess that she falls in love with. imma need someone to write a fanfic about this RIGHT NOW!! we all know annie knows how to whop some ass so, of course she was chosen by the king and queen to protect their precious daughter but what happens when… she falls in love! GAH!! of course, she could never speak of her feelings - maybe one day.

✧ levi ackerman - assassin

leader of some sort of renegade, like a special group of assassins. no matter what universe this man is in, his crown will never fall! his title carries on throughout all possible realties m’kay. same backstory though 100%, raised in the poor ditches but learnt how to fight and now he’s a leader of a renegade! you have to pay big buck to get levi to assassinate someone, he’s the best of the best after all.

✧ erwin smith - commander

i’m sorry to be basic and boring but a commander of an army. HE HAS TO BEEE 😭it’s too perfect, i’m sorry. except imagine the army is all medieval and dripped out in chainmail!

✧ hange zoë - pirate

a pirate. LIKE CMONNN especially s4 hange with the eye patch?! i can totally imagine hange running a ship and sailing the seven seas. they’re literally a commander too? it was written in the stars, they’re perfect for the role! i can totally see them playing devious pranks and tricks on other pirates trying to secure the same treasure.

[msmk11]

Trou Noir

Regulus Black x gn!reader

WC: 665

CW: Angst; hurt no comfort; Regulus’ death; mention of bile (no graphic description just the word)

Summary: Mourning your husband.

Day 12 of mk’s mad dash

A tragic romance. That’s what people liked to call it.

“Right person, wrong time” they would sigh.

And you hated it. Maybe it was true. No, it was true. But they had no right to say it. They were the same ones who had silently judged from afar- who’d scoffed and claimed that you two wouldn’t last.

They had no right to mourn.

You remained seated stiffly in a hard folding chair as everyone rose to pay their respects to you and your brother-in-law.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, he will be missed,” they all said, the words piercing your heart bit by bit until it shattered everywhere.

You tried to keep from scoffing. Most of the people at this funeral ignored your husband on the daily. When he needed their help the most, they turned a blind eye. They scolded him and called him a coward, an outcast, a villain. They couldn’t miss him when he was never a part of their lives in the first place. They couldn’t long for Regulus- someone they never had.

But despite the sickening insincerity that forced bile up your throat, you trudged onward with a stony expression. It’s what he always did in the face of discomfort, anyhow.

Your brave, beautiful Regulus.

Finally, after what felt like days, the few remaining guests filed out of the small church in which the funeral was held. Now there was only you and Sirius left.

Sirius.

You never much liked the older Black boy- especially after he abandoned his brother. But Regulus never stopped loving him. Even when he tried to hide it, you always knew that your husband longed for the relationship he once had with Sirius. His brother was everything to him, even when he’d been discarded by him like trash. So, though you had no empathy for the older Black, when the fiery Gryffindor broke down into sobs, you knew what Regulus would’ve wanted you to do. Ever so carefully, you reluctantly placed a hand on his shoulder.

Sirius turned towards you with tears streaming down his face, “I- I’m so sorry. I should’ve been there for him. He would’ve still been alive had I not left him behind.”

He began to cry even harder.

“No, you shouldn’t have left him behind” you agreed, “But Regulus forgave you. He always wanted you to be happy and safe, even if it meant he wasn’t.”

“You’re probably just saying that,” Sirius sniffled.

“Black,” you began, “I’ve never been fond of you and I've been pretty honest about it. Never have I once put something nicely to avoid hurting your feelings. I sure as hell am not starting now. I’m telling the truth.”

The man nodded with a small smile.

A sharp pain shot through your heart.

Who would’ve thought the two brothers shared a smile?

Refusing to cry in front of Sirius, you stood and began to gather your things, using your flutter of motion as a chance to hide from the man before you.

“Well, I need to be heading out, Black. I’m very tired. My condolences,” you mumbled.

As you turned to leave, he protested, “Wait! Can- can we meet up sometime? To talk about Reggie? I- I want to know more about him. Maybe then I can find a way to forgive myself and move on. Maybe you can move on too.”

You hesitated.

What right did Sirius have to ask you such a question after all this time. What was he owed after neglecting your husband for years? Why should you say yes?

Maybe it was because misery loved company, or because you were drawn to anything related to your husband, but you finally sighed in agreement.

“Fine. But don’t call him Reggie. You lost that privilege long ago. Meet me at the Leaky Cauldron on Friday- 6:00.”

You and Sirius would never be the best of friends. But perhaps, through conversation, you would both heal from the Regulus-sized hole in your hearts.

[jesncin]

So Two Face in Caped Crusader (spoilers)

Out of all the characters that were announced for Caped Crusader, I was most intrigued over their potential re-imagining of Harvey Dent as Two Face. His description as "a corrupt DA who uses his position to help rich criminals evade justice [...] when he gets his face disfigured, for the first time in his life he actually feels empathy for other people" felt the most substantially interesting a change, even if it sounded like a huge departure from his standard origin. I'm here for shakeups, this show is already establishing itself as having an out there elseworld energy to it so I was curious.

for reference, this is how I'd visualize a very standard Harvey origin story. It's a typical, straightforward tragedy that works. A mix of Harvey's fall from grace as Gotham's good boy to a criminal makes it all the more devastating when he's close friends with Bruce Wayne- someone who keeps giving Harvey second chances because he feels he can see just a glimpse of his old friend there. A great dark reflection of Bats, 10/10, no wonder people consider Harvey as strong an arch-enemy as Joker. Simple, effective, functional.

This is what I thought Caped Crusader was going to do based on what Bruce Timm said in promotion. It's a take with some good merit- I'm imagining a Harvey who's a corrupt, privileged hot jerk who gets humbled when that corruption bites back and disfigures him. But instead of that accident awakening "previous violent tendencies" or an alter identity, perhaps (as a switch up) it's instead something that marginalizes him. His pretty privilege is literally half effective now, and suddenly he is on the receiving end of judgement he so willingly gave others. He'd be depressed, anxious, maybe some PTSD going on over the acid face incident- recognizing that many of the rogues are like him but he chooses empathy instead.

The standard tragedy of Bruce seeing glimpses of his "old friend" in Two Face would have to be changed. Maybe this time Bruce is surprised at this change of heart? Believes in second chances even if Harvey's methods can be sorta out there (kinda reminds him of himself)? Would Harvey even be violent at all? Perhaps he genuinely became a kinder, empathetic guy but has a tragic end- forcing Bruce to wonder if that kind of hope for change is possible. Or bolder yet, make him a redeemed bad guy and one of the people on team good. Maybe he's the exception to the One Bad Day theme- perhaps Gotham doesn't poison everything good.

I'm not saying my take on their description is perfect or anything (it's certainly not as perennial and self-sustaining a villain motive. Feels more built for a tragic end or redemption, etc.), just that this is where my brain went, and thought "yeah there's something here, sure I'll hear you out."

So imagine my surprise when Caped Crusader delivered what's basically a very non-committal version of Two Face's standard origin???

The lack of contrast between his pre and post-accident transformation (other than "he's more extreme now") makes the change way less dramatic. Harvey starts off as a corrupt DA who butts heads with Good Lawyer Barbara Gordon, but apparently he's not corrupt enough to take an offer from the mob. So when he does eventually accept their offer out of pressure, it doesn't feel as dramatic a descent since he was already set up to be some level of corrupt. His "good change of heart" post-accident doesn't feel that dramatic when the whole reason he got acid-faced is because he grew the morals to reject the mob's assistance.

Then there's his relationship with Bruce. It's worthy of a whole other post so I won't go too deep into it, but Caped Crusader makes it clear that Bruce Wayne in this take is a performance. Not only do we barely see Bruce and Harvey interact throughout the first half of the show, but when they finally do they don't feel particularly close. Bruce went missing one time and Harvey was concerned for him, but they forgot to wrap that up. Later after Harvey's acid-accident, Bruce takes him out to dinner. This is revealed to be a play Batman's doing to pressure Harvey into telling Bruce who assaulted him. It's framed... very strangely. The show makes it look like Bruce pushed Harvey over the edge to get answers, but what Bruce did wasn't particularly cruel or unique to him. If it wasn't Bruce, someone else would have asked Harvey out to dinner eventually. If Bruce forced him to do a public interview with the press (putting Harvey on the spot publicly before he's ready), then I'd get it. But taking Harvey out to dinner among friends isn't the cruel and inconsiderate act the show frames it to be. Then they have a meet up again in Arkham, where Bruce attempts to comfort Harvey into accepting Barbara's offer to represent him. It's still not a very genuine interaction. "Don't start growing a conscience now, Dent." it still feels like a play on Batman's part. Like he wants to protect Harvey so that a less-evil politician is in charge of Gotham. Not as a friend.

By creating a Bruce that isn't personally close to Harvey, we lose what makes their standard dynamic so tragic. There's literally a line of dialogue where Harvey has to tell us, the audience, that Bruce is his old friend because what they've shown us isn't very convincing. So who does that leave as his foil? Barbara Gordon. Yes, because when you make a Batman that doesn't care to have genuine relationships with his cast system because he's so dedicated to the mission, that means other characters who care more (Barbara) have to fill that void. There's a reason why it's Barbara who causes Harley to turn over a new leaf, the reason why the police force are more centered in the narrative compared to Bats, why she's the one targeted with an assassination attempt.

I was honestly surprised that post-acid face incident, Two-Face's arc was fairly standard? He goes on a killing spree and doesn't believe in the Justice system anymore. Only this time Harvey's moments of "humanity" are signaled with him covering his pretty boy face, framing his disfigured side as the empathetic one instead of his pretty boy side. That's basically it though, it's an aesthetic change and the story would play out the same regardless of which half of his face he covered during those moments. I thought the disfigured face representing empathy was meant to symbolize something. Like marginalization of a sort? But it really was just that- "it's the other side that's the nice one now".

After Harvey's murder spree he's shown to be kinder, but I wouldn't really call it empathy (as described in the promotion). It felt more like guilt. Harvey felt he wasn't worth saving or protecting because of his actions (pre and post acid face). He's disgusted by what he's able to get away with because of his privilege, but that's not exactly empathy is it? There's that moment Harvey helps an Arkham inmate get his comfort plush returned to him, but we don't know where that kindness comes from. What informs his empathy to criminals? It just sorta happened, unmotivated or thematic.

I figured if they're not committing to a drastically different Harvey, it meant they wanted to keep him as a long standing rogue so they made noncommittal changes to his origin. But nope, they killed him off in the last episode! Which makes me think "well then if you were going to kill him, then why not go all the way with a drastically different Harvey then??" That very obviously click-bait moment where Batman picks up a gun and fake-shoots a corrupt cop after Harvey is killed didn't even feel motivated because he was barely friends with Harvey. I'm not even convinced he's sad about his supposed friend being killed. Harvey risks his life to save Barbara after all.

It's all just a mess of pieces. They want to make brave new changes to Harvey's origin, but are held back by their noncommittal choices and their "crime fighting machine" version of Bruce. Out of all the rogues, Harvey was essentially the only one we got to see his fall from grace happen in real time. The rest of the rogues skipped to having a gimmick/costume/villain motive already and I think that robs us of being able to empathize with them. Yet even Harvey struggles thematically. The duality theme is absent, the tragedy of a childhood friend gone rogue doesn't exist, and the inclusion of the coin toss felt like an obligation instead of an integrated part of his ideals.

Batman said "Dent put his thumb on the scale in court sometimes, but he did care about justice." Really? Because the show started with Dent trying to get an innocent boy convicted as an ad for his mayoral campaign. You can't keep telling me this version of Harvey "cares about Justice" only to show me something else. If you had a Harvey who faked evidence or forced witnesses to lie in order to convict a bad guy Barbara didn't realize she was defending, then we'd have a properly morally grey situation that matches how Batman describes him in the show. Alfred ended the season saying "Harvey Dent was twisted by ambition. He lost sight of his own humanity." That's not what I watched. The Harvey Caped Crusader showed me started off as corrupt and every now and then did the right thing, and felt guilt over his power, post-acid face incident. It means something that the show essentially had to tell us how to feel about him, because the show itself certainly wasn't sure what to do with him.

[sjmvillainweek]

SJM Villain Week Prompts List (October 1st - 7th)

Day 1- Villain Origin Story/Sacrifice

Villain Origin Story:

There's always been a question of if evil is made or born. Were our Villains evil from their first breath, or did a forbidden Romance gone wrong create the bad guy? Or was it an abusive family, perhaps a curse?

Sacrifice:

What did our villains give up or lose to reach this point? Was it ripped from them or was it something they willingly gave? What did they gain from what they've lost?

Day 2- Planning/Weakness

Planning:

What went into making this happen? How did Maeve truly rise to power? Was it all warfare, or what shady deals were made and with who? Our villains can't be the origin of evil, so what happened beforehand to encourage this

Weakness:

Achilles had his heel, Percy Jackson has his loyalty, Aelin has self sacrifice. What is the villain's tragic Weakness? What would have brought them to their knees had the bad guys been able to find it out? How do they hide it? What have they done about it?

Day 3- Secret Skills/Deception

Secret Skills:

Is there a weapon they are skilled with? What does training look like for them? Do they have powerful magic? What does their spellbook collection look like? Do they have a hobby that has turned into an advantage for them? What is hiding in their arsenal?

Their Deception:

We got here somehow. Write that origin, that first lie that allowed our villains the position of power they've gained. Is there a lie they regret, or one they're proud of the most? Can anyone see through their lies?

Day 4- Their Reign/Behind Closed Doors

Their Reign:

We never truly see things from the villain's perspective. What did things look like Under the Mountain? What happened in Maeve’s throne room? What is the Eternal City like when just the Asteri are there? Was it all truly bad or was there fun? Did their Reign actually do anything potentially good?

Behind Closed Doors:

What's the villain like when they're truly alone? Are they lonely? Do they feel shame? Are they self righteous? Do they cuddle up with a glass of wine and their beloved secret pet? Do they have an odd habit that brings them joy?

Day 5- The Villain Wins AU/Aftermath

Villain wins AU:

Either in an AU world or the one we know and love, tragic news has broken: The hero has fallen (either by death or in love with our Villain) and hope has left the Maasverse. What happens now that no one stands in the way of evil? Will our hero and villain enjoy an unexpected mafia style romance, will they become the rulers or their world?

Aftermath:

What impact has the villain left? What will be their legacy, their infamy? What is the ancient story told about them to keep faelings from disobeying their parents? How has the world changed due to them?

Day 6- Afterlife/The Villains Sense Of Style

After life:

After the villain is gone, they've entered the world beyond their own. What does their fate look like? Is it filled with regret, punishment, finding peace? Was it worth all of this?

The villains sense of style: 

Most of SJM’s female villains are described as beautiful creatures. Maeve with her dark song and beauty, Amarantha is known as the “Never-Fading Flower.” We have even heard her refer to Beron as handsome in ACOTAR. What does our Villain do for their care routine? What's their fashion sense like? How high of a priority is their appearance?

Day 7- Free day

Self-explanatory, this is a day to go utterly wild. Write whatever your heart desires about our favorite villains. Their world is entirely in your hands.

Here is our list of Villains from across the SJM universe for reference.

And remember these prompts are just meant for inspiration, use them as loosely or as strictly as you want. With the Villains in the spotlight, who knows where they'll take you.

We'll see you in October.

[nightwonder7]

So seeing as how you've fallen into the Norton/Alice rabbit hole...thoughts on the theory Norton was hired to kill Alice?

Okay, so there are two possibilities of who might've hired Norton to eliminate Alice, assuming the "arrogant woman" he talks about in the second letter isn't Melly. Note: I'm basing some of these thoughts off of sirenjose's posts (their IDV analysis are really good!)

One, it could be Orpheus. As we saw in AoM2, Norton was working for or together with him, so it would check out that Orpheus is the one directing him. He could've thus be the one who ordered him to eliminate Alice. However, this does contradict what is implied to be Orpheus' motives for Alice. In his and Alice's letters, he was trying to set her free from where she was being kept and make her remember him. He wants his childhood best friend back, maybe to redeem himself from what transpired when the manor was under attack. Also, I'm pretty sure he knows who Alice is in AoM now, with the Lamb note appearing on her desk at the end, so it's not like he thinks she is her colleague. So why would he then order someone to kill her? I could dig deeper into Orpheus potentially having his perception skewed, having to obey someone higher than him in the manor games or setting Norton up to be the villain so he can become the hero in the story, but I'll refrain from straying too far.

Two, it could be someone else entirely, and the main suspect would be Villhelm Lamb; AKA Alice's adoptive father. From Evelyn's background trailer, we learn that Villhelm is ruling over an organisation of spies working for him. Once Alice escapes from him, someone were sent out to observe her or eliminate her; perhaps to prevent her from spilling out whatever dark secrets he possesses. These people could be this spy group. From Alice's deduction, it seems that she knows she is being watched, and so they never get a chance to eliminate her.

And then we have Norton. Norton would not turn down a large sum of money if offered to him. And after the incident in the mines, one could say his moral compass became a little misguided. Agreeing to kill someone for a life changing amount of money does not seem unlikely of him at this point in life, whether said pay would come from Orpheus or Villhelm.

The ONLY THING I just cannot wrap my head around is where the heck did they find this guy?? Technically, Norton is just a random person from the working class, so how did they even find him? I doubt they put up an "Assassin needed! Commission pay!" flyer on the wall. I mean, they could've just made an ad with the sum of money and no job specifications, but I struggle to see how that would even work when the task is so grizzly. Another thing I can't comprehend is how this employer would think someone like Norton would be more skilled and capable of assassination of someone as sharp as Alice than, say a group of spies. But maybe Norton really is just that; a guy they randomly picked for the job for whatever reason.

I've probably left something out, but those are my initial thoughts. Would be interesting if Alice somehow allies with Norton and Melly to put an end to the manor games. But I'm also preparing for the most tragic ending to this story fdshjfghsd

[ofbreathandflame-archive]

Well, again, the issue is not that Rhys has done bad things, it’s how those actions are framed in the story. Let’s think about this – if Rhysand’s actions UTM were framed as negative then perhaps we would not be having this conversation.

Of course, we can argue that Rhysand (1) has developed negative coping mechanisms / perspective (2) Rhysand’s trauma informs the things that he does (both pre, during, and after UTM), and (3) Rhysand’s position was uniquely isolating because of the nature of the role he was forced to play. These are points that I believe can be argued and offer an interesting view; but for any of that to happen, we have to acknowledge that the behaviors are negative. That’s often the problem with the arguments that begin to arise – no one wants to admit that Rhysand has developed (or just has) negative qualities and behaviors. No one wants to contend with the reality of consequences. “Rhysand has always admitted that he would be willing to do terrible things for his family” – and yet there’s no elaboration on those “terrible things.” No one wants to talk about those proposed negative qualities. The story (and the audience) don’t want to admit that Rhys doesn’t really have a solid moral high ground over Tamlin, or admittedly other villains. Just because Rhysand “admits” he’s prone to basically being abusive doesn’t…make it any less abusive.

My proposed argument about Rhysand’s actions UTM are this: he chose to sexually assault Feyre, he chose to “protect” Feyre in ways that were extremely sexually explicit. I believe these are choices that Rhys chooses to make – and I believe they say something about him. It’s noted, to me, that Amarantha scarcely makes Rhys do anything that he does to Feyre. I also believe that his actions regarding Feyre were done with an air of autonomy; as in, I believe Rhysand takes these measures into his own hands. Ultimately, I believe that while Rhysand has to contend with the horrors, he himself becomes beholden to them at some point and ends up perpetrating the same behaviors.

We cannot argue that Rhysand sexually assaulted Feyre, and then argue that it doesn’t say something about him. It does. In the realm of the story – from a writing standpoint – I think a good author can still make a character like that sympathetic and understandable (see: Nahadoth and Itempas from N.K. Jemisin’s Hundred Thousand Kingdom). If I were analyzing Rhysand’s actions, I would simply make the argument that perhaps Rhysand’s abuse of Feyre mirror’s his own abuse by Amarantha hands, and he potentially sees Feyre (and her hope) as something to be threatened – or even shamed by. If Rhysand’s actions were written in a way that clearly exemplified that his actions are not meant to be praised (and are NOT are reflection of love) then he could be salvaged. I actually believe a lot of the abusive things Rhysand does makes sense given the environment and if the story leaned into this from a storytelling perspective and did away with needing to moralize, then this would all be fine. Framing Rhysand’s abuse of Feyre as something to be praised, admired, and loved for is actually quite insane. If we frame his actions as purely preservational and self-serving, that would make so much sense. Imagine being in Rhysand’s position; I guarantee everyone would do whatever they could to stop such extreme amounts of abuse and sexual violence. And even then, the story could still create a narrative that warns of the danger of sexual violence and consent, it would just be subtextual and more allegorical than concretely written in the text. Starting Feyre and Rhysand off in such a tragic place, having Feyre and Rhysand acknowledged truly what happened, having them discuss ways for both of them to move forward while building up the mating bond in the background. Have Feyre acknowledge this untrusting, sly, slick part of Rhysand and have her not assume her mate does everything out of the kindness of his heart. Build their romance out of a place of mutual atonement – play on the theme of guilt Feyre feels and the whole premise of the court. Let the connection between Feyre and Rhys be that they truly acknowledge each others darkness (and also let Feyre do selfish things – maybe she knew damn well Clare Beddor’s family might suffer a bad fate but its not her family and Feyre would do anything for them; Let Feyre kill those fairies with ease because she cares about her life. Let her contend with reality that she would actually do anything for her family and then have that be a connection between Rhys and Feyre.

Something that has always bothered me about the “we don’t talk enough about Rhysand’s trauma” argument that gets thrown around when we earnestly discuss the validity of his actions is the presumption of innocence in that statement. The unwritten statement is that the trauma somehow explains and simultaneously absolves him of the implications of his actions. I objectively agree with the sentiment – Rhysand’s trauma is not talked about enough and it should be. The argument dancing in the corner is the fact that people believe that Rhysand’s extreme amount of trauma absolves him – even going as far as essentially say that Rhysand’s abuse operates out of fear (or because of fear) which is essentially the exact same ideology the book bashed Tamlin for. In the end, the cycle just comes back around and the abuse gets pushed into the backdrop.

[sugarpasteltmnt]

You write unhinged Leo so well, and I really like how you write him. I was wondering if you had tips on unhinged characters 😂, or do you just get inspro from existing characters 👀

aksdakjsdh thank you so much ;w;

And honestly???? I’m not totally sure how to give tips— but I love, love, love unhinged characters in media, so I’ll use them as examples

(long rant below lol)

I’ve always been a big fan of silly, ‘crazy’ characters in animated movies and cartoons. I grew up on Batman the Animated Series and the original Teen Titans, which were full of silly, fun tragic characters.

Don’t get me wrong, i love a good edge-lord— but as a tot i thought the colorful, theatrical, insane bad guys were more fun to watch than the big scary serious ones (ESPECIALLY if they had a good villain song. A+ good shit)

(From left to right: Ratigan from Great Mouse Detective, Joker from Batman the Animated Series, Mumbo Jumbo from Teen Titans, Martin from Secret of Nimh 2, Bill Cypher from Gravity Falls, and Spinel from the Steven Universe movie)

And not just bad guys!! There are a ton of unhinged good/neutral characters that i absolutely adore.

(From left to right: King Bumi from ATLA, Clara from Welcome to Demon School Iruma-kun, and, of course, our silly 2018 turtle boys)

((There are many more characters in both categories, but I’ll slide these examples in here for now))

My personal brand of “Unhinged” or “Crazy” characters definitely leans on comedy. That’s what i enjoy seeing and reading! I personally like it because it can help keep a story fresh and interesting. There’s an element of surprise and unpredictability with what a character might do, and i love that!!

I also really enjoy a touch of feral behavior in my unhinged characters. The lack of clarity and the danger that imposes can be a very fun tool to use, no matter the character’s moral compass. (I’m feral for feral behavior lol)

And impulses. Whether a character has a few screws loose or is generally a goober, they like to act on impulses. This often goes hand-in-hand with comedy, and that’s something I enjoy!! We get a lot of moments like that in Rise, and that was one of my favorite parts of that TMNT iteration.

But as far as writing goes, it’s been tricky for me. All of the characters I grew up or love have been visual— trying to find a good balance for reading has been a puzzle I’ve been figuring out as I go.

I read a lot manga (lol nerd) and comics, and I love how thoughts/dialog are depicted. Especially the really dramatic or impactful moments. (I’d add examples but I’m already at the Tumblr image limit LAME)

As strange as it sounds, I try to capture that “impactful visual” style in my writing. If I had ANY advice on writing unhinged characters, pay attention to pacing—

Short. Fast. A calculating thought. Perhaps a run on sentence that lacks punctuation to represent the rushing and disorganized thought process. A question? An answer with little thought. Is this moment amusing; describe how. Is it upsetting; describe how. Are the thoughts starting to scatter? M aybe s o…

Big moment statement.

Action or plan of next big move. Flow should never seem too uniform. Even in normal writing. Don’t be afraid of accentuating— but don’t overdo it. Remember, unhinged characters are impulsive. Have fun with that.

Just as a quick and dirty summary— when it comes to unhinged characters, I like to use comedy, feral behavior, and acting on impulses. I also like to keep it as visually appealing as possible for characters to give the eyes a little treat after reading walls of text. I like to use fun text formatting to help with the fun too (But don’t overdo it! Don’t make it feel like a chore to read) (<- says the girl who goes into way too much details sometimes lmao whoops)

But ultimately— have FUN!!! Unhinged characters are fun, so make sure you have fun writing/drawing/creating them!!

[lumine-no-hikari]

Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #76

You know. After a day or so to process this version of events, I think I can finally put into words why so many people cry out for your blood, but not Rufus's or his father's, even though they've done things that are arguably far worse than anything you've ever done. Goodness, but isn't it the same age-old story of people villainizing abuse victims for striking back while excusing the abuser that broke the survivor to that point? And we see it all the time in my world; nobody does anything about bullying at school until the bullied person finally punches their bully in the face, and then the bully gets off scot-free while the victim gets suspended. I think of spouses who, backed into a corner and trying to defend themselves, strike back at the spouse who has been abusing them, and the spouse defending themselves gets charges pressed while the other one who had been abusing them gets pitied. I think about trafficked humans (many of them are snatched up as CHILDREN) who, in an effort to get free or to defend themselves, strike back at the person trafficking them and escape, only to then face a world who hates them for having been trafficked. And all of these things have one thing in common: the price for escaping from being "owned" is often another form of punishment or imprisonment.

Of course, I am not saying that people should call for Rufus's or his father's blood, either. Or even for Hojo's. They are not different from you - either they have congenital defects in the parts of their brain that are responsible for empathy (and pretending like this is a moral issue instead of a brain wiring issue is ableism), or they've lived lives that have beaten their psyches into a shape that makes them think that hurting other people and treating them like objects is the only way to survive. This is ALSO a brain wiring issue - though this kind of brain wiring issue is better classified as a psychological injury (due to attachment disruption or childhood trauma) than as an illness or congenital defect.

Yeah, you read all of that right. I said what I said and I meant it, and I know that people aren't gonna like it, but today I am tired and bitter from all the shit I'm seeing, and out of fucks to give as a result. I don't demonize Rufus or his father. I don't demonize Hojo, either. They have done horrific and inexcusable things and I feel very angry in response to that, but they need HELP. They, too, are capable of making a different choice and turning around. Imagine that. It's almost as though calling for mercy for you (or in other words, "being a Sephiroth fan" or a "Sephiroth apologist", as people like to call folks like me for the purpose of degrading us) has absolutely nothing to do with your looks or with trying to "fix" you so I can date you (I'm sorry, but the idea of "fixing" a person to get with them is absolutely fucking barftastic🤢🤮), or whatever other bullshit nonsense that people who have never been through severe and ongoing grooming or abuse without any kind of support (support can be from a teacher, friend, other family member, etc.) like to accuse us of. Hoodathunkit?

I think, too, that lots of people see that potentially destructive side of you in themselves, and I think they would rather see people who lapse in reining it in die than acknowledge that it's within them, too. Or perhaps living a life that is painful enough to break them into such a horrific shape is unfathomable to them. Either way, one fact remains: people don't want to own up to the fact that literally every single one of us has the capacity to do something similar to what you did, if their life circumstances break them in the way that leads to that kind of terrible, tragic, infuriating, and wholly inexcusable outcome. You're not some especially monstrous thing. You're not a lone goddamn wolf or a rare exception to some general rule or an isolated fucking edge case. And I know it because people in my world make choices similar to yours EVERY SINGLE DAY, even if their means of enacting those choices differ from yours.

The capacity to inflict horror upon other living things is part of the human condition. It is in ALL OF US, whether we want to fucking acknowledge it or not. And all it takes to bring it out is a long enough string of psychologically damaging events in the absence of appropriate support. Cases like yours are NOT random events caused by "inherently bad people"; there's no such fucking thing as "inherently bad people". There are conditions and events that lead to people doing horrific things, and these conditions and events can be found and prevented before they get to that point, if only everyone keeps their eyes open and pays attention! I spend as much time as I can trying to reach those that conventional wisdom says are "unreachable" PRECISELY in service to trying to keep my eyes open and pay attention!

Because horrific events and bad choices are like bacteria - they DO NOT spontaneously generate ("spontaneous generation theory" used to be a thing that people believed about microorganisms a long time ago)! Conditions LEAD TO THEIR GROWTH. And the solution to a person afflicted with bacteria is NOT to kill or demonize them (though this is how they used to be treated; check out most of human history!)! You're supposed to give them antibiotics to REMOVE THE CONDITIONS THAT ALLOW FOR BACTERIAL GROWTH. And the same rules apply to people who make violent choices - you remove the conditions that produce the choices, NOT the person who made them. But goddammit, I am only one person, and… fuck, there are just SO. MANY. STARFISH… stranded on the beach sand…

Also, you know… even as far back as the original game, anyone with half a brain understood that you must have been crying, weeping, sobbing openly during your time at the library. In this version of events, we saw you do that for just a moment before it was choked back and replaced with… something else (I know what this is like; I still have the capacity to cease crying immediately via dissociation; this skill was literally beaten into me, and I imagine it's the same for you). And in my world, it's popular to believe that men should never cry or be vulnerable in any way, shape, or form (this bit of socio-cultural bullshit is actually generational trauma, and it's literally fucking killing people, in the form of internalized or externalized violence), so lots of people here are going to have less empathy for you at least in part because you defied the "cultural norms" of what it means to be a man and a leader (again, this is generational trauma mistaken for culture, and it needs to fucking stop because people are dying over it). And it's so… it's so…

Ugh… Sephiroth, all of the things I know, all the suffering in the world, all the causes of it… it's all swirling around in my head today, and it's heavy. It's so fucking heavy. Watching all the people, every single one of them beautiful and good, doing what they do to themselves and each another, hurting themselves and each other, psychologically or physically maiming themselves and each other, even torturing and killing themselves or each other, all because somehow doing these things feels easier than trying to repair and restore everything… they don't know what they're doing. And there's not… there's not a damn thing I can do about it. I look at the state of things on a large scale. Our dying planet. The endless wars. The marginalized groups of people. The violence and the hate crimes. The genocides. I want to cry and to scream and to throw up all at once.

…But I suppose much of that is neither here nor there. Suppose anyone with "conventional wisdom" would tell me I'm "reading too goddamn much" into a "silly video game", but… given that the media in our world LITERALLY PERPETUATES STEREOTYPES THAT KILL PEOPLE, I gotta say I'm more than a little fucking bitter about that today.

In any case… you - an abused, exploited, and bullied person most of your life - escaped being owned by Shinra (in the clumsiest and most ridiculous and horrible fucking way possible, but still), only to find yet another goddamn chain around your neck. If it's not Jenova controlling you, then it's your trauma and conditioning pulling the strings. Either way you're acting like a goddamn puppet. There, I said it. And as much as I love you, if you don't like that I said it, then too fucking bad; maybe try actually DOING something about it.

Sephiroth. As much as I love you, I am always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you squandered your voice so recklessly back then. I'm always going to be more than a little pissed about the fact that you fucking! abused! yourself! for a week! until you broke! WHAT THE FUCK.

If you had simply! Told people! What you had been put through! If you had told them what Shinra was doing! If you had simply opened your freaking mouth to talk about your experiences to a bunch of people who practically worshipped you, you would have eventually had millions of people rallied with you to put an end to Shinra! Sephiroth, for fuck's sake, YOU WERE A GODDAMN GENERAL!! You know how to lead people! And you know how to protect them! Get a goddamn grip!

And I know that the mayor guy acted all entitled to your time while you were exhausted and still grieving for your friends, and it was shitty of him to pass judgment on you when he had no idea what you were going through. But ultimately, it is up to YOU to communicate your needs and feelings, not up to the people around you to anticipate what they are! And I know that the guy took your picture without your permission, and I know they didn't heed when you said "not today". But there is a difference between "having no respect for your word" and "being so excited and happy about your presence that they are unable to contain themselves". It is still up to YOU to maintain your boundaries even if other people don't like it!

Sephiroth! I know that you were struggling! And I know that you spent your whole life being bullied and abused to the point that you felt as though your voice had no power. I know that. I understand that. I am still dragging myself up out of that hole. I know that you were trying to punish evil, and that you saw these people as being complicit in the system that hurt you, your friends, your mother (who I assume you now know is Lucrecia, NOT Jenova), and your planet. I get that you were trying to punch your bullies back in their faces, but you punched the WRONG PEOPLE. And even then: why punch people when you can instead wield your voice!

Sephiroth, despite the harshness of your upbringing and all the other things that make you stand out, you still have privilege! You have status! You have fame! You have power! You have a remarkably able male body! YOU ARE THE KIND OF PERSON THAT PEOPLE LISTEN TO! You have a face that people are willing to see! You have a voice that people are willing to hear! And there is a difference between holding people accountable for being complicit in a system that benefits them, and punishing people for existing in a system (even if that system benefits them) that they did not consent to being born into!

You can't even begin to imagine what I would be willing to give up in order to have a voice like yours, so that I could call for compassion and mercy in ways that would get people to open their eyes and take action in service to putting a stop to all the suffering that exists in this place that I live in.

But no. Instead of being brave and coming out of your shell to use your voice and social power in response to injustice and exploitation, you simply defaulted to your instinctual behaviors. You did the thing you've been trained to do. Like Pavlov's dog, the bell was rung and you drooled everyfuckingwhere. You used your power to cut everything down, instead of using your voice to rally people together for a cause that they ABSOLUTELY would have followed because YOUR face and YOUR voice would have been the one leading it.

Sephiroth. This fucking sucks. What you did to yourself in that library - starving, dehydrating, and sleep depriving yourself and pushing yourself past your limits while you were already strained - fucking sucks. And what you did in the throes of your agony also sucks. Punishing the people around you because your brain was addled and you didn't fucking fact-check what you were reading fucking sucks! And I do understand very well why you did all this; I was abused similarly to you, albeit in a far less extreme way, and thus a long time ago I used to think similarly to the way you did after your fall (I don't think that way anymore because I had help, thank freaking goodness). But IT STILL FUCKING SUCKS. And it was STILL unacceptable. You can't change what you did. But you can make a different choice, moving forward!

Conventional wisdom says that there is no coming back from having fallen, but I am living proof that in this case, "conventional wisdom" is GARBAGE. I would not be sitting here, imploring you to turn your eyes towards a kinder, more compassionate worldview - one that exists in stark defiance of everything I used to believe because of what I was taught as a child - if "conventional wisdom" were true. In addition, I have met other people in the course of my derping around on this broken fucken planet who also serve as proof that anyone, no matter what has happened to them or what they've done in the past, can rise up into making a different choice. And these cases, too, are not "edge" cases. They are not exceptions to a rule. The capacity to heal and grow and change - just like the capacity to hurt and regress and stagnate - is part of the human condition. And this means that anyone can turn around! No! Matter! How! Far! They've! Walked! In! The! Wrong! Direction!!

Goddammit, Sephiroth! Turn yourself around!! Because although I understand what you're trying to do, what you're doing is NOT the way to get it done! What you're doing is BULLSHIT! Maybe you think you're demonstrating your "phenomenal power" or whatever by breaking everything around you, but what you're REALLY doing is yielding to your conditioning like it's got a chain around your neck and a cattle prod in its hand! It's weaksauce! You ALREADY KNOW HOW TO BREAK THINGS. You've spent your whole life being forced to do that even when you didn't want to!

So you gonna, you gonna what? Sit here and claim that you're "the chosen one" or some fucking horseshit, as though you've taken your power back? When really you just took the easy route of doing the same old shit you've always done - bending over and making yourself a slave to someone else's fucked-up agenda, and becoming the very thing you reviled against SO HARD that you burned down an entire fucking village in disgust, despair, and rage? I ain't buyin' it, and neither should you! All you've done is exchanged one codependent relationship for another! And it's getting fucking old! You can do better than blind, subservient obedience to some random fucking space parasite that don't give even two shits about you as much as it cares about your capacity to allow it to resume its life cycle! You've gotta know that even if you really did manage to break everything (you won't, because I fucking promise you that you'll be stopped), as soon as you've served its purpose, it's gonna toss ya like yesterday's trash, if not outright consume you like a female mantis after it's done using its mate like a fucktoy!

The developers said that we've only seen 1% of your power or some shit, but you fucking know what? You could wipe the whole goddamn universe clean. You could extinguish every last star. And STILL some random fucking autistic chick from some random fucking planet in a random fucking solar system in a random fucking galaxy has your ass beat in ALL the ways that count! And that's NOT ACCEPTABLE. I am nothing! I am NO ONE. Sephiroth!! COME ON ALREADY!!

You want strength? Do the work to defy your conditioning. Do the work to love the broken things. Do the work to become someone who does no harm yet takes no shit. Do the work to become someone who can remain soft even in this sharp and unforgiving world. Do the work to get out of your own damn way. Do the work to become someone who can treat yourself like you actually fucking matter. Do the work to get up off your knees and live. DO! THE! WORK! Don't just do the same thing you've always done and claim you've won! Don't act like a pigeon playing chess - shitting all over the board and then struttin' and swaggerin' around like you're some kind of grandmaster! That's NOT how this shit works! You haven't broken free of the pattern! All you've done is changed the hand holding your leash!

You have to stop blindly giving away your power to anyone who claims to love you! You have to stop using your power in service to the conditioning that tried to snatch away who you really are on the inside! They tried to steal away your gentleness! They tried to steal away your emotions! They tried to steal away your ability to cry, your ability to be vulnerable, your ability to be compassionate and loving! Are you just gonna sit here and let them? Are you going to keep pretending like you're cruel and hard-hearted just because a bunch of people who cared nothing for you told you that's how a proper warrior is supposed to be? Are you going to keep on like this, doing the same thing you've always done, just because taking the time to grieve and to make choices that are actually in alignment with your nature are things that feel too difficult for you to do?

…Fucking hell, but some days, clamoring for you to get your shit together feels A LOT like Atreyu trying to pull Artax up out of the swamp:

Come on!!! Turn around!!! You have to, NOW! You have to try!! You have to care!! You can't let the darkness overtake you! You gotta move or you'll die!! Please!! There's still life on the other side of mistakes. There's still life on the other side of despair. There's still life on the other side of rage, of loss, of shattering. It doesn't have to be permanent!

…I won't give up. Even if you leave those of us who care for you sitting and weeping in the middle of the swamp, staring forlornly, or in shock and in disbelief at the place where you sank, I'm not going to quit. I will keep calling out your name in hopes that you'll follow the sound back to the light. Because you're worth the effort. You're worth the pain. You're worth the grief.

I'll leave you with these:

Take the hands outstretched to you and get your ass out of the goddamn swamp. Having a swamp ass is not a good time for ANYONE involved. So please. I…

…I'll write to you tomorrow. Because I love you. In the same way that any person loves their friends. Do everything in your power to keep yourself and your planet and your friends safe. I'm begging you. Please.

Your friend, Lumine