#and she has such CHARISMA doing the most simple things

[theseulgis]

eyes full of hearts for her

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[heartshapedbubble]

omg i was answering this req and when i saved it to my drafts I COULDN'T EDIT IT??? so i deleted it in hopes to remake it BUT THE ASK WAS GONE fuck you tumblr :(( im so sorry anon you know who you are

aesop carl, qi shiyi and frederick kreiburg w/ a singer s/o hcs⚰️🪈🎼

aesop carl⚰️

...you'd have to do most of the initiation with him. aesop carl is not impolite, not at all, but the crippling anxiety overcoming him makes it hard to go beyond a "hello" or any other introduction. he has a lot of nice things to say to you, romantic even, but during the first couple of months you'll have to basically yank them out of him

aesop is horrible with words, and would rather just hide away and hope you notice how he feels about you. in his eyes, the simple things he does with you - small talk, exchanges of handkerchiefs and drinks by the table, midnight walks when everyone's asleep - are acts of confessing his love. to him, trust equals love, and love equals assistance and communication.

something that he's even more afraid, though, is singing. talking can be quiet, unnoticeable, blending in with everyday noises, but singing is always noticeable. the change of pitch can be caught even by an untrained ear, and the ensuing confrontation, to him, is terrifying.

you fascinate him, a lot. unlike him, you're not afraid to set your voice free, letting it echo through the room and spin around you like a ribbon. kind of like an aura, it attracts passerbys and always leaves them standing in awe, even if it's just for a minute. that kind of confidence is impressive, and he himself finds it rather enchanting.

as you train your voice on the podium, enjoying yourself and twirling around in your flowy robes as if there's nobody around, the last thing that's on your mind right now is a potential secret admirer somewhere nearby. the secret admirer being aesop, of course. he's crouching in one of the loges, partly sick to the stomach because someone might walk in on - or even worse, you may notice - him, partly enjoying your outstanding performance.

qi shiyi🪈

she thinks you two make for a pretty nice duet ;)

you two clash at moments, as she enjoys and is used to the more "formal" arts such as opera and your field of interest is musicals, but overall she's enarmored by your talent and your charisma. jazz, rock, ballad or aria, a strong voice does not go unnoticed.

once she softens up to you, you'll notice just how much she enjoys your voice. as you comb her hair, she asks you to sing something for her. when you two are fast asleep, her head is on your chest, listening to your soft hums as she's lulled to sleep. calls you her songbird as she wraps her arm around your waist and spins you around in your brand new costume.

here and there she'll dust off her old flute and play a nostalgic melody or two. it's even better when enrichened with your singing, and it motivates her to jump back on her feet and do a little three-step as she plays

frederick kreiburg🎼

he's not a wunderkind, but being surrounded by music from a young age he has quite the trained ear. he can quickly differentiate between a powerful mezzosoprano and a rich, dark alto. a lot of insinuations and jokes have been made behind your back about how you two are perfect for each other, but he just rolls his eyes, not bothering with empty gossip.

thanks to the unisolated manor walls, at one point he'll hear some vocal exercises coming from your room

am i losing my mind again? he thinks to himself, looking around in wonder. he stays in the hallway for a little longer, trying to find the source of this haunting voice - and it will take time, oh, indeed, but eventually he'll knock on your door and unintentionally kick off your relationship

as expected, he enjoys playing alongside you. motivating him to crack his knuckles and sit in front of the piano again is hard, but the both of you know your irresistible smile will not leave him any other choice....

mostly picks out german lieder from his collection of sheet music, but of course, adapts to your wishes - something more energetic works great as a warm up

he's the happiest when he performs alongside you on the podium. nothing makes his face light up like when he watches you sing from behind the piano, gesturing towards the audience and slowly dancing to the composition unraveled by his fingers, basking under the golden spotlight.

[neobomb]

give into things i (dont) want to [lee jeno]

(yandere ish) creep/stalker! popular fuckboy/badboy!jeno x christian!reader, hints of shy boy! (kinda dumb) naive! christian!mark x reader. Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. Warnings: mature themes, toxic behaviour, manipulation, stalking, forcing??, inappropriate behaviour, choking, menstions of perv behaviour, MDNI, there will be smut in part 2 Word Count: 2.3k Summary: Jeno is on a mission: to assist his friend Mark in getting with you. But is he genuinely helping Mark or leading him down a questionable path? © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Would you really do that for me?” Mark's eyes sparkle with hope. The excitement bubbling within him was palpable, but Jeno knew he had to temper it. For the longest time, Mark has had a crush on you, yet never mustered the courage to approach you. It was heart-wrenching to see, truly pathetic. 

“Don’t worry, you can trust me.” Jeno assures with unwavering confidence. “She will be head over heels for you if you just do as I say.” 

Mark is overly trusting to believe that Jeno, of all people, will help him get with you. You, L/N Y/N, the one Jeno has been hopelessly in love with over the years, the one who captured the heart of THE fuckboy Lee Jeno. Jeno's deep feelings for you are something he'll never confess. He's vowed to himself to admire you from a distance, never allowing himself to get close. Jeno understood his nature, believing that a pure, innocent soul like you shouldn't be entangled with a bad boy like him. However, that doesn't mean he'll let anyone else get near you, especially not Mark. 

“I trust you, Jeno. You’re the rizz king after all.” Indeed, Jeno had been with more girls than most guys his age. With his captivating looks, undeniable charisma, and seasoned charm, he can enchant just about anyone he desires. Flirting was second nature to him. For Jeno, it was not just about the sex; it was a way to establish himself as the school's most sought-after boy. A simple power move. 

“I’m just… a bit uncomfortable with some of your suggestions.” Mark says, sounding skeptical as he scratches his head. “It just seems a bit… odd… maybe creepy even.”  

“I promise you, girls love that shit.” Jeno takes a step closer to the clueless boy. “Haven’t you read Twilight and all those cliché romance novels that girls love? Girls are fucked up enough to eat that shit up.”

"You're right." Mark concedes, deciding to place his trust in Jeno. After all, Jeno has no reason to lead him astray, does he?  

"Let's do it then," Jeno says, extending his hand towards Mark for a handshake, to which Mark readily reciprocates with a firm handshake.

The deal has been sealed. Jeno has Mark right where he wants him. Mark was just dumb and naive enough to believe the bullshit Jeno has been telling him. 

—

A handwritten note was attached to the string of the bouquet with tape. 

Dear Y/N, Not a day goes by that you don't cross my mind.  Your lover, lee. 

It began innocently enough – with sweet intentions and harmless beginnings.

Then there were the photographs — snapshots capturing moments in your bedroom, some pictures intimate, others harmless.

new message from lover lee: new image has been sent

Then, items began to vanish — your favorite cherry-flavored chapstick, your bra and your panties were the first to go.

What started innocently has now morphed into something more ominous.

In your room, a place that is supposed to be your safe haven. An unsettling feeling grips you—a paranoia over who might be watching. A faceless someone, so infatuated that they'd shadow your every move. You find yourself overly aware of your surroundings, constantly casting a discreet glance over your shoulder, wishing for no one to be standing right behind you. Thankfully, it is clear. It always was. 

It's become so unnerving that sleep eludes you. Night after night, you retreat to the corner of your room, ensuring every window is securely fastened, window blinds down, your gaze fixed intently on the doorway that separates your sanctuary from the main hallway. Clasping your cross necklace close to your heart, you'd whisper prayers, hoping fervently that no one lurked nearby. It had become a routine at this point. 

–

The bell chimed resonantly through the corridors. Finally, a reprieve from these tedious classes, Jeno mused. He strides down the hallway, eyes darting to the windows of each classroom, searching for a glimpse of you. 

There you are, seated at a desk away from the windows, with sun rays casting a gentle glow on your delicate cheek while you hold a book. To him, you are the epitome of beauty, with an innocence in your eyes that captivates as you survey your surroundings. You appear deeply fatigued, as though you haven't had a moment's rest in the past month.

“Y/N, I’ve noticed that you look very tired lately. Is everything ok?” Lifting your gaze from your desk, you find Jeno looking at you with evident concern. 

"Uh, yeah, I'm okay. Just some trouble sleeping," you reply, your voice carrying a hint of surprise at the sudden attention from Jeno, the school's renowned handsome bad boy. You rack your brain, realizing you haven't actually spoken to him since preschool days.

"Hey, Y/N," Mark says, appearing behind you with a wide smile that briefly startles you. "I noticed you at church last Sunday. I didn't want to intrude… you seemed deeply engaged in prayer…. as one should be..." Mark winces slightly at his own awkwardness. Your presence has a way of making him momentarily lose his grasp on social cues.

“Anyways…” Mark casts a meaningful glance at Jeno, hinting that he should give the two of you some space. “I’ve been wanting to ask you… if… you might want to… maybe… go… uhm…. I’ve been wanting to tell you something and it’s very important.” 

“Uhm… ok” you respond in a confused tone, looking back at Jeno. “I want to do it somewhere, preferably more private… uhm… maybe dinner at Kun’s… this evening…” Mark stumbles over his words, stuttering through the simple sentences.

"Are you asking me out on a date?" you clarify, boiling his words down to their clear intent. “Yes…” the shy boy confirms. 

Mark is undeniably cute — a devoted Christian, diligent, yet reserved. You have always had a little crush on Mark, but you never anticipated that he would make a move. The realm of dating had always seemed uneventful to you; you felt as if you were invisible to boys. But not until this very moment. Going out with Mark couldn't be harmful, could it? At the very least, it might provide a welcome distraction from your current stalker situation.

“Yes, I would love to.” you answer with a radiant smile, sending the timid boy into cloud nine.

Mission one complete. And so Mark thought…

–

On this typical Friday evening, the restaurant buzzed with activity, patrons streaming in and out. Amidst the bustle, you notice Mark seated at a table tucked away from the main dining area. 

"Hi there," he greets, rising to envelop you in a friendly hug. "I got here a bit early and took the liberty of ordering for us — Peking roasted duck… I hope that's alright… it's your favorite from the menu." His remark piques your curiosity. It's oddly specific knowledge for him to have. You have barely talked to Mark. How did he know your preferred dish? Strange.

"Please, have a seat," he offers, pulling out the chair for you. With a moment of hesitation, you take the offered seat.

“I’m curious about what you’ve been wanting to tell me. Seems like you were very eager to spill it out.” Perhaps it was premature to confront him, but your curiosity was too strong to resist. But with your question, you can almost feel Mark's panic. His hands tremble slightly as he opens his can of soda. 

He inhales deeply, steadying himself before he responds to your question: “I have to confess something. Uhm… I wanted to … uhm tell you … that I’m … lee, your lover” 

You stare at him in stunned horror, mustering all your composure to prevent yourself from trembling with fear and revulsion. The revelation hits you like a thunderclap — Mark Lee, the same person sitting across from you, is the stalker who has been haunting your nights with fear.

“I can’t fucking believe it. You scared me shitless.” You immediately rise from your seat, getting yourself ready to leave the restaurant. 

“What do you mean?” Mark says in a confused tone. 

“The letters, flowers, …. the creepy text messages, … the photos of me in my room, … my fucking missing underwear, constantly feel like I’m being followed, it’s all you??” Struggling to keep your voice level, the sense of betrayal washing over you was unparalleled.

“What?” Mark yelled in question “What do you mean photos?? missing underwear? All I did was send you secret letters.” 

“I swear to God it’s not me, Y/N.” Mark pleaded with you, his eyes imploring, begging you to believe him.

“Nothing you say can change what I’ve heard.” You declare, swiftly collecting your belongings before storming out of the restaurant. 

It had never crossed your mind that Mark, the quiet, church-going boy who seemed devoted to his faith, could be capable of taking such extreme actions. The revelation seemed surreal, almost too contrived to be true.

 —

A few months have passed since the unsettling discovery of Mark's unsettling behavior. Every ounce of your bravery has been summoned just to face him at school each day. Whenever he attempts to draw near, desperately trying to weave a tapestry of excuses, you fend him off with the threat of a restraining order. There's nothing he could say now to sway your resolve.

In the span of those tumultuous weeks, you found solace in Jeno. As the days passed, you and Jeno grew increasingly close, an unforeseen twist given that the popular boy had seemingly never noticed you before — or so it had seemed.  But his kindness and understanding provided comfort, especially when others doubted your account of events. 

"Thanks for walking me home from church, Jeno. You really don’t have to do it again. I promise you this will be the first and last time." you say, casting a wary glance at Mark, who lingers near the church entrance. Having Jeno's company is a source of comfort amidst the chaos, even if your home is just a two-minute stroll from the church.

"Of course, it's the least I can do to ensure you feel secure." Jeno says, casually draping an arm around your shoulders while guiding his bike with his free hand. His steps seem confident, almost familiar with the path to your home, despite the fact that in all the years of your acquaintance, he has never once been at your house, or even close to it. You try to dismiss the peculiar sense that he knows the way a little too well, reminding yourself that he's never been invited over, but the thought lingers, troubling in its implications. Strange, you thought.

Just as you near your house, the skies open up, unleashing a sudden downpour. You urge Jeno to come inside, suggesting he wait out the torrential rain before he ventures back home. To pass the time and since Jeno had never been to your place before, you decided to give him a tour.

"Oh here is your favorite place to sit and read" remarks Jeno, his tone carrying a hint of familiarity as he observes the cozy corner of your living room. How did he know it was your favorite reading spot? His ease within your home is uncanny, almost as if he's retracing well-known steps rather than discovering them for the first time, inadvertently reversing the roles of guest and guide. Strange.

The final stop of the tour is your room. Pointing to a large photo album, you say, "Here are snapshots from my childhood," and you flip it open to share a visual journey through your past. You point to a cherished childhood photograph, depicting a younger you, grinning with abandon, your face comically smeared with Peking duck sauce, as you gleefully twirl noodles around your chopsticks.

“Oh you looked so adorable while eating peking roasted duck. Must have been your favorite dish for quite some time. I guess some things never change.” He smiles at a particular photograph of you. It was a response that strikes you as odd. You hadn't mentioned your favorite dish to him before. Strange. 

“How did you know about my favorite dish? I’m pretty sure I haven’t told you about it.” you query, attempting to piece together the perplexing puzzle that has been preoccupying your thoughts. Upon hearing your question, a shadow flickers across Jeno's features, replacing the cheerful, lively demeanor of moments ago with something more somber. The spark in his eyes dims, giving way to a serious, almost foreboding intensity.

“What do you mean?” He inquires, his lips curling into an uneasy, almost disconcerting smirk.

“I… I just think you’re acting a bit… uhm… strange. It’s the first time you’ve ever walked me home, and you seem oddly familiar with the area I live in…. and you seem to know my house like you've already been here before … uhm … and you pick up on these small things I haven’t told you about before.” As you address his odd demeanor, a growing sense of regret takes hold with each passing second; his eyes darken, casting a shadow of menace that chills you to the bone.

In that instance, Jeno aggressively pins you down onto your bed. One hand holding your wrist, the other at your throat. 

“You know too much, Y/N. You should’ve just kept your pretty little mouth shut.” He whispers in your ear before tightening his grip around your neck until you are no longer registering his words. His voice faded into a muffled echo as your thoughts withdrew into a separate reality. Your hands clutch at his wrist, attempting to loosen his hold, while your eyes nearly close from the sheer force of the moment. His grip on your neck slackened, and he watched as you sucked in breath, your complexion regaining its normal hue as vitality slowly reclaimed your shaken form. As you caught your breath, Jeno abruptly pressed his lips against yours. The fervor of the kiss was overwhelming. Saying hello to lee, you did.

[phoenixyfriend]

Shadow and Mirror

Read on AO3, written for this prompt

Cody has a new crush.

Well, a “crush” implies something much more childish than the point he’s reached in his life.

Cody has… felt a connection and really hit it off with someone he finds reasonably attractive.

His brothers are being less than supportive.

“He is my Jedi and one of my best friends,” Rex says, “but I just… for both your sakes, life will be so much easier if you don’t go for it.”

Cody is unfazed. “You do remember he was my Jedi Commander before he got promoted and took you with him, right? I know what he’s like, and I’m into it.”

Rex makes a face. “Uh, all due respect, Cody—”

Oh, this bitch.

“—but he’s changed in some pretty big ways since he split from Kenobi.”

“So’ve I.”

This earns him an eyeroll. “Yes, yes, you’ve discovered your romantic charisma and started charming the pants off of any sentient you encounter on leave. You do realize that’s part of the problem?”

“That I have game?”

“Skywalker doesn’t do casual,” Rex insists. “Open, maybe, if you talk about it, but he doesn’t do casual.”

After a moment of consideration, Cody shrugs. “I can work with that.”

“Can you?” Rex challenges. “Can you really deal with the full force of Anakin’s attention? With him losing his entire mind if you get hurt, and calling you up at three in the morning to chat, and promising you the galaxy in a bunch of flowery words that should be hyperbole, but really, really worryingly sounds literal and sincere?”

“…did you try dating him?”

“No, but I was there basically every time he hung with Amidala, and that shit continued past the point where he gave up on romantic seduction and settled into friendship,” Rex says, more of a grumpy complaint than anything, “and she’s just as weird as he is when it comes to all that, so it’s no skin off her back to match his energy, but you are not on their level.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying,” Rex grits out from between clenched teeth, “that you like to have fun, and Anakin likes to dedicate every morsel of crazy knocking around his brain to whichever poor soul ended up in his affections.”

“I feel like insulting your CO that much is grounds for a court martial.”

“Echo told him, to his face, that he occasionally seemed crazy as a bag of tooka kits and about as hinged as a sliding door. General Skywalker took a second to process, and then laughed. He doesn’t care, not if it’s from a friend.”

Cody hums. “Which you are.”

“Yes.”

“Enough to warn me away before I break his heart?” Cody asks. Rex looks away, and Cody can only chuckle. “You’re not that subtle, Rex.”

“I’m trying to make sure you do what’s best for both of you,” Rex insists, glancing at Cody for only a moment before breaking eye contact again, “so Anakin doesn’t get disappointed, and so you’re not walking in blind when it comes to him being… the most.”

Cody snorts. “I can handle Skywalker, Rex. I may not be a Jedi or a Senator, but I can handle one brat with a smart mouth, a bad attitude, and a couple of super-powers.”

Rex grimaces. “I mean… it’s not really… that simple. The Force stuff, I mean.”

There’s something a little odd to Rex’s voice with that one, more than just the weird pauses. Cody doesn’t dismiss it quite as easily as he might have. Instead, he carefully asks, “the whole ‘Chosen’ thing some of the Shinies were gossiping about? Kenobi said it was an old superstition more than anything, a metaphor taken too literally, and that even the Jedi argue about it.”

“When?”

Cody’s expression must speak for him, because Rex clarifies without prompting.

“When did Kenobi say that?”

Cody looks past him at the wall, frowning as he thinks. Rex waits, and doesn’t take it too personally; they know each other too well for that. Finally, Cody shrugs. “A couple months in. Skywalker was still a Jedi Commander with the 212th.”

“So, before Mortis.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “This has to do with that shitshow?”

Rex looks uncomfortable. “You… aren’t 501st.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well… Kenobi didn’t get possessed. Or channel a god. He just used an extra weird lightsaber for a bit.”

Cody gives it a few moments, and then finally says, “Rex.”

His brother continues to look uncomfortable.

“What did that place do to Skywalker and Tano?”

(Continue on AO3)

[dd-is-my-guiltypleasure]

Everyone’s gone UFO crazy. Maybe The X-Files should come back

Chrissy Iley

MARCH 2, 2024

Starring in a poignant new film adapted from his own novel, David Duchovny reveals the heartache of almost losing his daughter... and why his most famous show could yet return

No wonder David Duchovny has written, directed and stars in his latest movie Bucky F***ing Dent... it’s based on his own bestselling 2016 novel of the same name. Poignant and funny, it examines a father-son relationship via baseball, with X-Files star David playing Marty the dad, who’s dying of lung cancer, and Logan Marshall-Green from Spider-Man: Homecoming as his estranged son Ted.

The real Bucky Dent went down in history for scoring an unlikely home run for the New York Yankees in a 1978 tie-breaker against arch rivals the Boston Red Sox, and the film’s title is how generations of Boston fans have referred to him ever since, a metaphor for heartbreak. Set in that same year, the film follows struggling writer Ted as he moves back into his childhood home when he hears his father is dying, prompting a whirlwind of dark revelations from the past. Meanwhile, Boston fan Marty’s health dips whenever his beloved Red Sox lose, so New York fan Ted orchestrates the illusion of a Boston winning streak...

Marty has transferred his feelings for an old flame (the secret love of his life, not his wife) to the Red Sox. ‘The intensity of fandom has always puzzled me,’ says David. ‘It has to be a kind of sublimation. My father and I liked playing baseball; my best childhood memory is playing it with him and enjoying the simple communication you can have through a game, but we didn’t share the fandom thing.

‘Marty’s transposed his feelings for this woman to the Red Sox, and the movie is really about the idea of losing. In America there’s a sick addiction to winning and winners, but most of us have to lose every day. Suffering makes us human - it unites us all.’

There’s a moment in the film when Marty is talking about a chest infection that almost killed Ted as a child. Marty says he begged God or whoever to take his lungs instead and let Ted live. ‘One thing I’ve never told anyone is that when my daughter was nine months old she got really ill,’ reveals David. ‘Her mother [actress Tea Leoni] and I had to face the fact we might lose her and I remember feeling so devastated, I didn’t think I could love anything again if she died.’

His daughter West, now 24, has since become a successful actress who seems to have inherited her mother’s stunning blonde looks and her father’s charisma. ‘I think she has a greater passion for acting than either of her parents ever did,’ he says. They also have a son Kyd, 21, and David says the hardest moment of his life was telling them he and Tea were divorcing ten years ago, as his own parents had done when he was 12. ‘It was far worse telling them than actually experiencing it. When you’re a child you just try to get through it, you don’t feel responsible. As a parent I felt at least 50 per cent responsible.’

Tall and thin with good skin and an easy charm, David seems untouched by the ageing process, although this role is a huge shift from the Lotharios he usually plays, such as bed-hopping writer Hank in comedy-drama series Californication. Does getting older bother him? ‘Of course, and as an actor you have to think of the different roles you’ll be offered. When I was writing this script I was thinking I’d play Ted, the son. We tried to make it four or five years ago and I was still going to play Ted, but then when it came to doing it I realised it just wouldn’t work, so I thought I’d play Marty. And that was exciting because it was very different.’

Californication won two Emmys and a Golden Globe, but was notorious for its portrayal of LA’s seedier side. Does he think it could be made now? ‘Certainly they would insist on intimacy coaches, but I don’t think it would be made now, for the wrong reasons. There was a misunderstanding about what it was about. It was meant to be funny, and it was meant to be about family and love. But what everybody got excited about was not that,’ he says, referring to the furore over the sex scenes. ‘In my mind the show was misperceived.’

Another of David’s roles that would spark a row today was a transgender FBI agent in Twin Peaks in the early 90s, when almost no transgender women were on TV. Again it was groundbreaking. ‘But if you’re playing a murderer no one asks you, “Have you murdered people?”’ he says. ‘It was just being an actor.’

David is, of course, best known for The X-Files, in which he played UFO-obsessed FBI agent Mulder opposite Gillian Anderson’s sceptical Scully. The series finally bowed out in 2018 after 11 series, but could there ever be another? ‘Maybe - it might even be more current now,’ he says, referring to the recent release of top-secret UFO files in the US. ‘I’m not personally interested in UFOs so it doesn’t make it more exciting for me to revisit The X-Files. It was a role I played but I wasn’t passionate about the subject. Maybe I’m the only one who isn’t.’

There was a brouhaha at the time about the huge pay discrepancy between David and Gillian, and I wonder if it would be difficult for him to work with her again. ‘As far as I know, by the end there was no difference at all between us, but Hollywood salaries are very weird,’ he says. ‘I’m going to London soon and I’ll see Gillian because she lives there now. I saw her in the West End doing All About Eve and I enjoyed it. She wished me luck with Bucky too.’

In recent years David has explored his passion for music, releasing a couple of folk-rock albums. So does he see himself as an actor, a director or a musician? ‘All of them, I’m an artist,’ he says. ‘I can filter stuff through a song, a novel, a performance or through directing. There are all kinds of ways of being an artist. I write best about dramatic things. There’s a way to deal with suffering to create art.’

Bucky F***ing Dent, Glasgow Film Festival, Wednesday. Visit glasgowfilm.org

[ddarker-dreams]

which least to most of all the main mcs are: “They should be at the club!!” to “needs to be at their bed, tucked away and sleeping”?

now this is what i call important character exploration. let's get into it .

SR reader 🎀

GIRL KNOWS HOW TO HAVE A GOOD TIME !!!! dance is her whole thing. even if ballet has been her primary focus, she's played with hip hop styled dance for funsies. she's got this natural charisma to her movements that brings in pairs of eyes like magnets. zero inhibitions, just vibes.

nexus darling 🥀

born to club, forced to bear the burden of supporting her planet's economy 😔 she's got the confidence necessary to get out on the dance floor and do whatever. unfortunately, she's never gotten the chance. had she lead a normal life, she would love the high energy. her and nona would egg one another on until lear steps in, ever the mother hen. nexus darling might not be confined to the LOTUS-EATER anymore, but there's zero chance blade is letting her go to an establishment like that. kafka might try and pull some strings to make it necessary for a job, as she lives for drama...

gg mc 🌻

satoru caught her practicing perfume choreography one time and has never let her live it down. that's about the extent of her dancing, aside from some simple swaying when listening to music by herself. she'll go if shoko asks, otherwise, it isn't really on her radar. she isn't the type to go out there and dance by herself, she needs a few drinks in her system first. is more open to the idea once buzzed. she prefers dancing with shoko over dancing with satoru, finding how handsy he gets embarrassing. the man does not leave room for jesus. he is a fun dance partner though.

HWR reader ⚔

she wouldn't be a fan of the club. she doesn't like crowds, doesn't drink, and would consider dislocating anyone's wrist if they so much as brush against her. she speedruns any job that takes place at a nightclub. HWR reader is something of a neat freak, being near a bunch of sweaty bodies would make her eyes twitch. similar to chrollo in the sense that she can do ballroom dance but if you made her freestyle she'd be at a loss.

[obetrolncocktails]

Scarlett | Vampire!Danny Wagner X f!Reader | Part 1

Warnings: Stalking, Murder, witness of murder, heavy gore, intense depictions of murder/dying, smoking, alcohol consumption, gaslighting, compulsion/mind-control, magic, foreboding/uneasy tension.

Work Count: 4093

A/N: I've never written something quite this spooky, so I hope you guys enjoy! I present to you, Vampire Danny!

Summary: Danny' has spent fifteen-hundred years on the prowl, using and discarding thousands of bodies once they've served their purpose. There's no use to give feeder's personalities or learn about their lives. Since being turned, people hold little to no significance except to feed upon. It's the blood that matters. And, as much as he tried, animals never satiated his thirst. The truth is the truth. Humans always taste better. Be careful or you're next...

Her blood pounds through her veins, the sound of it in my ears like rushing water through a broken levee. I can sense her presence. Somewhere in this city, she lives innocently, unaware that I know of her, though I don’t know her name or her history. If you believe in destiny like I do, I listen to the ether and whatever draws me to my subjects. 

She is vivacious. I can feel the energy licking over my body with naive vitality, and I know. I know that it’s her I must find, that I must possess. 

My veins burn as if exposed to capsaicin, the throbbing ache launching me from this emptying parking garage to move deeper into the city to find you. To watch you. To want you. I take one last glance at the darkening cityscape before lowering myself into my corvette. The sky lunges into dusk, and I know that time is of the essence if I hope to find you tonight. I use my senses to pull me through the piling traffic. I take back roads, taking turns using my intuition to guess who you are, and where you may be spending time.

You’re young.

I can sense it easily in our connection. Good. The young ones are my favorite, and they taste the best, too. I feel my canines lowering as I fantasize about you, the sharp fangs scraping against the meat of my lower lip. I enjoy the sensation, feeling most like myself when I can let my mind wander, igniting my adopted instincts. I feel my eyes focusing harder now, my awareness intensely heightened. 

I never liked the city lights. To me, they’ve always been one of the more annoying inventions since the Industrial Revolution. The one thing they do provide for me, though, is the distraction, especially in a big city like this one. It’s ironic really. You’d think ample lighting would keep darkness from invading, but it’s quite simple. Bad things happen to good people no matter what. It’s a vicious cycle, but even put more simply, it’s called strategy.  I’ve known for fifteen-hundred years that with a keen sense for human nature and with just enough charisma, you can do almost anything and get anything and anyone you want. Marquee lights and logos pull gazes upward while I strike from behind. They never suspect me. 

✠

“Scar, what are you waiting for? Get your ass in here, ” one of your best friends, Jordan, practically yanked you inside of the nightclub. Something in the air felt sinister, and though you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it was, your attention was still drawn to the darkness beyond the brightly-lit sidewalk and entrance to the nightclub. A loud, muffled beat thrummed through your body as you stepped into the large room, deafening your ears to nearby voices. The room was equipped with fog machines that casted a thick, low-hanging blanket of smoke. Bright lasers sliced beams of light through the haziness from one end of the venue to the other. From where you stood, the room was electrified with what seemed like every color of the rainbow. Somehow, though, aside from the laser show, the room itself was not brightly lit. What seemed like hundreds of bodies touched, groped and danced on the floor as you waded through the narrowing walkway. 

“Grab my hand!” Jordan shouted over the music. You weren’t quite sure what she had said, but you took her hand anyway, letting her direct you through the crowd toward the dance floor. So many people this close to you made you feel extremely claustrophobic, but you silently attempted to push the feelings aside in hopes that you’d reach a pocket of open space shortly. Then, the same feeling that previously flooded your body was back again–the feeling of something watching, as if you were its prey. No one would understand what you were experiencing, and hell, you felt stupid for being so paranoid. As your gaze flicked up toward the bar, a strike of energy surged through your body, searing your vision with blinding light. Every inch of your body felt like it was burning from the inside out until you opened your eyes. 

And there he was. 

A man stared at you. Into you. From where you stood, you were frozen in place, staring into his eyes while people jostled you about. 

“Move!” A disgruntled man growled at you, shoving past. 

“Sorry…” You muttered distantly to him in apology. The man who stared at you from the bar was incredibly handsome. So much so that his beauty seemed otherworldly–like if you dared to look away from him, you’d never experience that type of attraction again for as long as you lived. He sat with a confident stoicism that struck you as being out of place, as if he were a moving statue brought to life out of a world-famous art museum. He was tall and muscular, but not overtly so. His hooked nose was Romanesque, curved in an aquiline shape. His dark hair coiled neatly around his face, making him look more like a Roman God than some unassuming man in a club. His eyes were dark and sinister and as they swept over you, it felt as if he had stripped you bare and could see all of you at once–your entire life, your family, your aspirations, your deepest fears and greatest desires. You were pulled out of your trance when Jordan tugged on your hand. 

“Hey! You’re in peoples’ way. We have to move in deeper–” she shouted, but you protested. 

“Wait–” You spun to look back at the man through the cluster of moving people, and when you did, he was gone. You whipped your gaze around, trying to process where he could have gone so quickly, but when you saw no evidence of his presence or his exit, you forced your legs to move forward with Jordan toward the DJ. 

“D-Did you see that?” You called after her. She turned her head toward you, but her face scrunched with confusion. 

“What?” She yelled over the music. 

“That man!” You said, rushing up closer to her. “He was staring at me.” Jordan shook her head and shrugged. 

“Probably thought you were hot as fuck!” She grinned, her perfect teeth glowing purple under the blacklight overhead. You offered her a thin smile in exchange. “Maybe you should go talk to him!” She said, beginning to move with the music. She pulled you close so she wouldn’t have to shout anymore.  “Rachel should be here soon. I’ll dance with her instead. You suck at it, anyway.” She smirked at you with a wink and released your hand. “Go! Have fun and be safe. Keep your phone on you at all times.” 

The freedom to find the mysterious man felt exhilarating, and though you wouldn’t admit it to Jordan, his gaze filled you with fear, but also with unexplainable longing. “Okay,” you told her. “Are you sure?” 

“Go! Get railed or something,” She chuckled. “Oh wait,” She paused, reaching into her bag. “Take these, just in case.” She reached for your hand and opened it, tucking in two condoms. 

“Jordan!” You gasped with a wide grin. 

“Have fun!” She winked, and filtered deeper into the crowd without you. A wave of anxiety rolled over you as soon as you were alone. The music continued to pound in your ears, and for a moment you felt quite inebriated though you hadn’t taken a single sip of alcohol yet. 

✠

For hundreds of years now, I’ve been able to cloak myself within plain sight, only revealing my true identity when my subject is within seconds of death. Others that have known me more...intimately, have usually served as my feeders. I’ve had men and women in my bed throughout the last fifteen-hundred years, many of them truly incredible lovers, but unfortunately, they’ve all ended up dead. Turns out I have very poor impulse control. I’ve gone to mortal therapists, and they’ve all told me the same thing, besides being a psychopath of course, that I’m a narcissist. I beg to differ. I believe in hedonism. I desire the finest things in life, and being immortal just gives me more time to enjoy it all. 

 I make eye contact with you and know that I’ve ensnared you, though you aren’t aware of it just yet. Those beautiful bright eyes staring back at me like a deer in headlights. It’s not hard for me to return your gaze. I feel no anxiety, only determination. I shake the ice in my half-empty old fashioned and consider how the rest of my night will progress. Seems as I’m just getting started, I abandon my drink and hunt, knowing you won’t leave without finding me. 

My eyes roam in and above the crowd, looking for loners–people with nowhere to be, and no one to wait for them back at home. I lock my gaze onto a young man who looks to be about my age. He’s wearing thick glasses, his hair slicked back awkwardly. He looks out of place and anxious. He holds his arms close to his body like he’s used to being viewed as an annoyance to others. Why is he here? I ask myself silently, but given that I don’t have any context, I choose to follow him instead. I like it that way. He’ll end up dead soon enough, either way. In the time being, I’ll write my own story of his life, knowing very well how it will end. I feel my fangs begin to scrape against my bottom lip, and I know that I must feed soon. 

I follow the man further into the dark venue and realize he’s heading toward the bathroom. Perfect. I round the corners silently and trail him into the back, dimly-lit hallway. Back here, the noise is minimal, which makes it important to stay quiet. I’m quick, but the only way to stop people from screaming is to kill them, and I’m not interested in compelling an entire night club to forget everything. I watch as the bathroom door swings shut behind the guy, and, taking one quick look behind me for anyone watching, I disappear into the bathroom behind him, hoping I’ll get a lucky break by no one else being in any of the stalls. 

Sure enough, he’s the only one inside. Standing at the urinal, he unzips his pants and relieves himself, and, being the gentleman I am, I let him finish as I pretend to use the urinal beside him. I do not look at him. I wait for him to zip up his pants and turn toward the sinks before I lunge for him, reaching to sink my teeth into his perfect neck, directly into his jugular. 

“What the fuck?!” He shouts as I bite down, his hands darting upward to attempt to peel me from him, but he can’t. He is powerless under my grip. I siphon the blood from his veins quickly, feeling my body becoming revitalized with every passing second. He still manages to scream loudly, and, in the moment, I should have regretted being lazy and choosing to not compel him before feeding. I make eye contact with him through the reflection in the mirror as he looks up with horror. He’s realized that I’m all over him, my face and neck covered in his blood. He also knows that most likely, he will die. I can’t help but grin. 

“If you keep screaming, you’ll be dead in the next thirty seconds,” I warn him. He doesn’t listen, of course. They never do. 

“Fuck you!” He screeches, kicking against me with all of his might. They never learn, I tell myself. With a wicked grin, I reach just under his jawline with both hands, and mercifully, I throw my hands upward, decapitating him easily. It’s a shame. I watch his body fall to the floor, his face still wide-eyed with terror. His mouth still moves as I watch the life drain from his mortal eyes. Blood spurts everywhere, in every direction, and I lament over the waste of a meal. I drop the head to the tile floor, watching it roll away from me. The floor pools with delicious blood, and, if I didn’t have standards, I would have saved every drop for myself. 

Someone is coming. 

I turn slightly over my shoulder as I hear the hurried footsteps. Wiping my mouth with my forearm, I turn toward the door. And there she is. 

As beautiful as any creature I’ve ever seen, I watch her eyes widen and her jaw drop as she takes in the scene in front of her. It’s actually quite comical to think about, and I wonder if she’s ever seen this amount of blood at one time. My hands are covered in it, my leather jacket practically dripping from crimson spatter. 

“Oh my God! What the fuck!?” She screams at me, her face draining of all color. And just like that, she’s on the run, prey in the eyes of the hunter. 

✠

You weren’t sure how your feet kept up with your body in the moment. All you could remember was seeing so much blood. The man that caused it all was the same man that was staring at you earlier from the bar.  You knew better than to rush through the crowd again, knowing you’d get stuck on the way out. Instead, you booked it toward the employee only area and searched for a service entrance. You turned to peer over your shoulder far too many times, because you knew he’d be searching for you, and like the dead man in the bathroom, you knew that you’d be his next victim. 

“There you are,” a man’s voice slithered into your ears as you landed on the pavement outside of the club. You realized instantly that you’d made a grave mistake by choosing this back exit. Now, no one would bear witness to your murder, and even worse, you doubted anyone could hear your screams over the noise of the club. He leaned casually against the brick wall of the building across from you. His face was shadowed in darkness. You froze in place, horrified to even ponder how he’d beaten you out of the building.

“I have a knife!” you warned. “Stay away from me!” In truth, you had nothing to defend yourself, but figured it was better to lie than to die. 

“A knife?” He asked matter-of-factly, pushing himself off of the wall. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved a pack of cigarettes and pulled one out, placing it between his lips. “Want one?” He asked, tilting the box in your direction. You flinched, stepping back. He lifted one hand to his mouth to shield from the wind as he lit the end of the cigarette. You could see the drying blood on his hands. “And what exactly do you plan to do with that knife, darling?” He asked, taking a long drag of his cigarette, the cherry glowing bright red.“Surely not to stab me.” You stood in place, trembling from head to toe. You flitted your gaze from him over to each side, considering how to exit. “You poor thing,” he teased, his voice wafting through the air like velvet. His tongue clicked  “You have no idea, do you, hm?” You watched as he took a step forward toward you, and you jumped back. 

“Don’t!” You shouted at him. 

“Don’t do what?” He asked slowly, cocking his eyebrow upward with curiosity. He was devastatingly beautiful, and though what you saw in the bathroom filled you with terror, something inside of you considered staying, even though your intuition should have told you better. “What are you scared of, little one? Why aren’t you running?” He asked with a knowing grin.  

“I–I–” You stuttered, your eyes darting left to right as you considered where to go. “You’re gonna let me go?” You asked him, your fist bunching at your sides. 

“Run along before I change my mind,” he responded matter-of-factly. 

As quickly as you could, you sprinted down the dark alleyway away from him, the gravel crunching under your shoes as you ran. And then he was in front of you, smirking. When he opened his bloody mouth, you saw the fangs as they glimmered under the street lamps.

“Too slow,” he almost sang. You halted in place, and considered turning to run the other way, but as you spun on your heel, he launched forward, clawing at you with his arms outstretched. In his clenched fist, he caught your ponytail and looped it around his fingertips, yanking you backward, where you landed on your back. The force knocked the wind out of you, and your scalp ached from his grip. 

“Don’t–” you begged quietly, your voice sounding foreign as it left your mouth. “Please.” 

“Don’t worry, Darling,” the man said, lifting his gaze to look into your eyes. You watched as his pupils dilated, and then returned to their normal size. His gaze pierced through you as if altering your brain chemistry. 

“You’ll forget everything that happened to you. You drank too much. No one touched you. You will go back to your friends, and you’ll forget what you saw in the bathroom. You’ll forget me once I finish feeding.” His hands gripped tightly around your body as he spoke. His face was crusted with dark blood, and even so, he possessed a haunting  beauty that unsettled and awoke something that lay dormant in your soul for your entire life. Feeding. He said feeding. Before you could process, he lunged forward and pinned you against the earth. An unearthly shriek exploded from your lungs as his fangs sank into your neck. In a moment of inexplicable clarity, you felt every sense ignite, your entire body burning from the inside out with literal flames licking off of your skin, illuminating the dark and grimy alleyway. Your scream morphed into a deafening howl that made even your ears ring. The roar that left your body initiated a moment of pure power and supernatural defense. In a moment that seemed to last a lifetime, you felt your entire being morph into something otherworldly, siphoning all of the energy in the atmosphere to harness this incredible, volatile power. Your captor hissed and yelped from the burns searing his body, yet he still hauled himself on top of you. An incredible calmness overrode your terror, and with simple instinct, you lifted your hand to your side, and closed your eyes, manifesting the man’s image in your head. The scene played out in your mind before it happened, and once you were satisfied, you opened your eyes, your powers having run their course, ripping his body off of yours and leaving him floating high in mid-air in the middle of the alleyway. 

His eyes widened in surprise, but not necessarily from fear. They had shifted from a deep shade of chocolate brown to that of molten gold, his hair spiraling around his head in glorious display. He was terrifying, yet inarguably captivating; and yet, you were the one with power now. In one motion across your own throat with the tips of your fingers, you manifested that you’d slit his throat, and, just like before, you watched as your power took hold and echoed the command upon his neck, slicing one deep, fatal gash from one ear to the other. You watched the blood messily pour from the gash, spilling onto his clothes, down his arms, off of his body and onto the pavement below, painting it bright crimson. You watched with relaxed determination as he began to gurgle and choke on the blood, his eyes becoming half-lidded with weariness, his body beginning to convulse and seize where he hung. Power filled your body with dignified confidence, and in the moment, you didn’t worry once about the blood. You wanted him dead. Annihilated into dust.  

Looking down at your hands, your mind began to return to that of human instinct. Your sudden lack of compassion had disturbed you as the power leached from your grasp.  You’d grown up having powers—you knew you had them, but it had been years since they’d appeared, and even so, you’d never been capable of harnessing this much energy before. It hadn’t been unusual for you to be able to make certain objects float, or make things move on their own. You’d kept this gift to yourself all of these years, never revealing the truth to anyone. This instance, however, was something very new, and, without a single drop of alcohol in your system, you knew two things were true. You were sober and that this was very, very real, and the man hanging in the air above you was most definitely not human. 

You lifted your gaze up at him, half-expecting him to be dead. And when you did, he opened his eyes, smirked, and then laughed. You watched as he spat the blood dismissively at the ground before he straightened easily and stopped trembling from feigning death and began to cackle as if he’d seen something incredibly amusing. When you made eye contact with him, he grinned widely, his teeth painted deep maroon as blood dripped out of his mouth and off of his chin. His fangs glinted off of what little light was expressed from the street lamp on the path behind the club. 

“Wow,” he finally said, scoffing. “I don’t know what I expected, but it sure as fuck wasn’t that,” he admitted with a chuckle. “Color me impressed!” You watched in horrified confusion, speechless as to how the man hanging in front of you could still talk, let alone breathe.  Peering down at your hands, you silently questioned how you were able to defend yourself from him. 

“What are you?” You asked him maliciously, balling your fists at your side. You watched as he casually crossed his arms across his chest. 

“I could ask the same thing about you, sweetheart.” He smirked widely, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Are you a witch?” He asked. 

“I–I  don’t know,” you answered defensively. “What are you?” You asked again, venom laced between every word. He huffed a chuckle through his nose.

“You haven't figured it out yet? I took you as being much smarter than that, Scarlett.” Your attention snapped upward as he said your name for the first time. 

“How the fuck do you know my name?” You asked him, practically hissing as you spoke. 

“Was it a secret?” He asked, his lips turning upward in a smug expression. 

“Who the fuck are you!?” You shouted lifting your arm in front of you, ready to will your power back in place. 

“I’m Danny. Daniel if I’m in trouble,” he answered simply. “Friends call me Danny.” He spoke as if he’d sat down for a cup of coffee with you. How could someone so malicious and evil be so careless? You let silence drift for a few moments. “Let me walk you through it, Darling,” he sighed. “Can you let me down first?”

“No!” You answered immediately. 

“Do I still scare you?” He asked. “It’s the fangs, isn’t it?” You watched as he opened his mouth, noticing the prominent canines that protruded into sharp points at either side. Then suddenly, they morphed back into normal, human shape. “And the blood?” He asked. “You can use your witch powers to clean it off, can’t you?”

“You’re a fucking murderer,” you hissed through your teeth, squeezing your hands into fists at your side. “I’m not doing shit for you. I should call the police.” 

“Honey, if you wanted an aftershow, you really should have just asked. I’m hungry anyway, and, while I was about to feast on you, I don’t prefer witch blood.” 

“I’m not a witch,” you spat at him. He chuckled menacingly. 

“And I’m not a fucking vampire.” 

With as much power as you could muster, you closed your eyes and imagined him being slammed into the earth. Hard. You turned and prepared to walk away before opening your eyes and letting it be done, hearing a loud thud on the ground behind you. Something in you had shifted, the terror morphing quickly into amusement, a wide grin plastered across your face as you walked away from him, listening to the moans and groans that escaped from his body as he picked himself up from the pavement.

End of Part 1.

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[idyllic-affections]

HIII so this might be an odd request,,, mayhaps i ask for kaveh with an older step sibling (since his mom remarried i think).,, i think kaveh would be a little awkward interacting with them at first but they got along in the long run!! esp when they update him about his mom and never really makes him uncomfortable, or always doesn't force a conversation!! he respects his ideals and supports his passion!!

but the main idea was they go to sumeru one day to visit kaveh (they've been informing him thru letters) and accidentally finds out that he's buried under crippling debt and flat out broke!! i think kaveh would feel so ahasmed of himself but!! his older sibling doesn't judge n is very understanding!! helps him with his burdens (if kaveh allows them), maybe recommend his architectural skills to their friends in fontaine!!

idk i just really like the idea of kaveh having an older family member that he could rely on because he really just deserves nice things yk 🥺🥺 even tho they're just step siblings, they feel like true family!!

anyways feel free to ignore this!! have a nice day/night and take ur time!! 💖💖

the blending of two families.

summary. not all step-siblings are like the cruel ones in the fairytales.

trigger & content warnings. references to death and grief. spoilers for kaveh's backstory.

tropes, pairings, fic length, & other notes. fluff, comfort, slight angst. kaveh & older step-sibling!reader. 1k words. they/them pronouns for reader.

author's thoughts. THIS REQ IS LITERALLY SO CUTE WHATSJSGJF??????? i have Feelings about kaveh's mom and they are NOT good ones but i'll be nice to her for the sake of this piece........ /lh i did this in brainrot format because i wanted SOO badly to get this one done relatively quickly this req invaded my brain like a song that gets stuck in your head

kaveh first meets his older step-sibling at his mother's wedding.

he's... happy for her, he really is. or he's trying to be, at least. she deserves nothing but the best. what kind of son would he be if he wanted her to live her life wallowing in grief and sorrow? she's hardly ever done anything to hurt him, and if she ever did, it was unknowingly. he could neved wish anything bad upon her. she simply does not deserve those things. therefore, he's doing his best to be happy for her.

a part of him, however, still misses his father.

a part of him— well, who is he kidding? the entirety of his being still suffers under the weight of grief and guilt caused by the circumstances surrounding his father's death.

he doesn't even know the man his mother has chosen to marry, really. kaveh absolutely does not feel like she is betraying him or his father whatsoever, but... he does wish that he had gotten to know this man a little bit better before having to trust that he would not wound his mother's scarred heart.

the architect doesn't engage with the other guests much. it's unlike him, really, but he finds that he can't muster up the strength and charisma to talk with people beyond simple pleasantries. he keeps to himself for the most part.

still, he doesn't dare dampen the atmosphere with his woes, so when another person approaches him, he offers his warmest smile.

"sorry, i hope you don't mind me asking..." this stranger smiles politely at him. it puts his mind at ease a little. "is the bride your mother? you look an awful lot like her."

"oh, i—" he stammeers inelegantly, then clears his throat. "yes. i am her son, kaveh."

they smile again.

"hello kaveh. i'm [name], the groom's child."

"oh. oh! i am so sorry, i had no idea!"

"it's alright, really. you mind if i stick around for a while?"

and kaveh finds that he doesn't. he doesn't mind at all.

the architect has been known to be loose-lipped about his troubles; that in and of itself is part of the reason why he spent the night withdrawn from the celebration. he had no intention of being open about his troubles, and yet...

his step-sibling had the sort of face that made him want to rant, and rant he did.

"i can understand that," they mused thoughtfully, kind eyes observing his expression closely. "it's complicated. grief is never easy. i get it."

initially, they were the one lingering around kaveh, but by the end of the night, the tables have certainly turned. he is practically attached at their hip.

he finds that their understanding presence ended up raising his low spirits.

a few days later, kaveh has to return to sumeru—he does have responsibilities, after all—but he's a bit sad about it! they're, of course, there to reassure him that they plan on visiting someday soon. maybe he can show them around? the prospect alone is very thrilling to him, and what's better is that he'll get to show off his magnum opus like an excited toddler showing off a drawing they made! he does warn them that it is very humid and they need to be prepared, though.

until they can visit, kaveh regularly exchanges letters with them. he complains about his terribly annoying roommate and how awful his taste in interior design is. he tells them about random gossip he heard at the tavern. honestly, he just rambles. it's endearing, really, and in return, they tell him about fontaine and maybe sneak in just the smallest bit of gossip about a certain chief justice or even about the hydro archon herself.

(in the future, closer to when the traveler arrives in fontaine, they do not dare tell kaveh about the heightened fatui activity. goodness, the poor thing would worry to death for theirs and his mother's safety.)

when they do finally have the time to come visit...

they arrive by boat in port ormos, and kaveh is there to pick them up!

he's got a lot of things he intends to show them and a lot of people he intends on introducing them to. on the way back to sumeru city, he stops a few times, pointing out some particularly beautiful locations or animals, all of which would have his siblimg absolutely over the moon. sumeru in general would have them enamored.

the air in sumeru is so... clean compared to fontaine, and the fauna and flora—it's completely different than what they've seen.

now, as for [name] finding out about kaveh's crippling debt... i think they would suspect something was off financially for him, simply because of certain mannerisms of his. he's careful with what he spends his mora on. he tries to be, at the very least, and his caution is very evident. or maybe they're just observant? either way, they know something is a bit off.

kaveh leaves them at alhaitham's home for a while.

it's not that they're one to snoop—it's disrespectful and rude to do so, they are very much aware of this—but a letter would catch their eye.

a letter detailing what he still owes to dori.

suddenly, things make sense in their mind.

they don't try to ask his roommate about it. instead, they wait until he's home and alone with them.

"kaveh," they call. "are you in debt?"

his heart sinks a little. so much for hiding it...

"i..." he hesitates, obviously embarrassed, but he does come clean. in their eyes, he looks like a kicked, pouty puppy. "it's... complicated. i mean, you're not wrong..."

"aw, kaveh, don't look like that," they coo, reaching out to gingerly squeeze his shoulder in a gesture of gentle reassurance. "it's nothing to be ashamed about. things happen, kaveh. life happens. i understand if not, but... will you let me help you out? at least a little bit?"

regardless of what he says, whether he admits that he could use the help or insists that they shouldn't have to do that, they do still go around and tell people about their super awesome and talented step-brother! and when kaveh asks in a letter about the suspicious amount of commissions he's getting from fontaine...

nope! they have no idea how those people found out about him. <3

please consider reblogging, it helps me out quite a lot!

[mywingsareonwheels]

In which I get very feral about Angua von Uberwald, as I sometimes do

(Below is a quote from The Fifth Elephant, it contains some spoilers...)

""Carrot! I've got to know something."

"Yes?"

"That might happen to me. Have you ever thought about that? He was my brother, after all. Being two things at the same time, and never quite being one... we're not the most stable of creatures."

"Gold and muck come out of the same shaft," said Carrot.

"That's just a dwarf saying!"

"It"s true, though. You're not him."

"Well, if it happened... if it did... would you do what Vimes did? Carrot? Would it be you who picked up a weapon and came after me? I know you won't lie. I've got to know. Would it be you?"

A little snow slid down from the trees. The wolves watched. Carrot looked up for a moment at the grey sky and then nodded.

"Yes."

She sighed. "Promise?" she said." * * * * * * * * * * *

PRATCHETT HOW ABSOLUTELY DARE YOU.

How am I supposed to be normal about Angua, the most all-round competent pretty much of all the Watch (and definitely the most alarming fighter), cynical and self-aware and judgemental and brilliant and passionately loyal and very compassionate at times, saying that to her boyfriend. An intensely idealistic and kind and simple and terrifyingly (no, truly terrifyingly) good man. It's implied that their relationship has an inevitable slight d/s-y element, because anything halfway between a human and a wolf is rather a dog, and she is absolutely aware that when he calls, she will come running. Even while she is continually the only person (other than Vimes) who gets seriously snarky about him and isn't easily influenced by his extreme levels of charisma.

And her sheer damn relief in this scene. They've just buried her other love interest, who died trying to save Carrot from Angua's horrifying brother Wolfgang. And Carrot's the only person she trusts this much. This is just the absolute classic monster x human relationship, there is so much going on with them over the course of the several books in which they both appear (though this is the one in which they are both the most in focus) and I am still waiting for any adaptation to do it full justice.

I do not usually get this intense about any m/f relationship, but FUCK.

I also note: we learn in The Fifth Elephant that Angua has another brother who is unable to change shape to looking like a human, and who got out of the family (and away from Wolfgang) too, to work as a sheepdog in Borogravia, where he wins prizes at agricultural shows. Carrot is clearly deeply proud of potentially having a prize-winning sheepdog brother-in-law. Angua finds this extremely irritating. :D

But Vimes and Angua are based in Borogravia in Monstrous Regiment, only a few books later, so I am working on the assumption that Angua visited Andreyi while she was there. :) :) :) I hope they had a good time together. I also wonder whether his human shepherd boss has any idea of his species. :D (I bet Granny Aching would have worked it out, but Granny Aching doesn't live in Borogravia. ;-) )

[florencetypemaniacs]

▪︎ Links:

☛ {[DEMO]} | Chapters 1-3

☛ {[MOODBOARDS]}

☛ {CHARATER PORTRAITS: ["Book Club"], [Part 1]}

☛ {SHORT/SIDE STORIES: [Marcel's Past], [Trick or Treat], [Suprise Party]}

☛ {SPICY SHORT STORIES: [Nurse Owen]}

My Inner Sins is an interactive fiction game series being made with SugarCube (previously Harlow) on Twine. It has an urban supernatural theme where you will discover things about yourself, your family, and maybe even the hidden truth about your town. In this tale, you will meet new people, but beware; you don't know who you can trust or who has a knife to your back. 

☛ Content Warning: My Inner Sins is an interactive fiction game for players 16 and older that focuses mostly on NPC interactions and character growth. It will feature violent scenes, sexual themes, mental illness, suicidal thoughts, and strong language and is meant for older audiences.

☛ About the Author: Hello, I go by Florence (she/her), and this is my first interactive fiction; however, this world has been in my mind since I was thirteen and watched Twilight for the first time. I plan for this to be a three-book series; however, I am a full-time college student. If you want to support me, then please send me words of encouragement via Tumblr or Itch.io. I want to make a series out of this story and the characters I created, but I want to make sure people enjoy this world and this story as much as I do. 

Four new people end up coming into town, and while that might be a little strange for the small town of Lockwood, Massachusetts, they seem to be keeping a watchful eye on you. But why should that matter? You have other things to worry about, like the feeling that you are being watched....

But everyone is welcome in Lockwood.....

Simple. Those were the words that once described your life, and you would’ve nodded your head in agreement. Your day was a never-ending cycle of the same thing. Wake up, go to work downstairs at your Aunt Zinnia's tea shop, try not to fall asleep at the cash register, sneak yourself a few muffins, go to sleep, have weird nightmares, and repeat for another day. So, it would be an understatement to say that you didn’t expect your life to be turned upside down by demons. 

While most normal family secrets are mediocre or maybe a bit surprising, those of your family, the Oleanders, are mind-blowing. You find out that your  family is best known for being monster hunters, or were until your mom fell in love with a demon, making you not only have the most profound hunter blood through your veins but also making you a cambion, a half-human, half-demon spawn. 

Now, with an ancient evil coming after you, you have demons coming back to the mortal plane once again after already dying to guard you. Will you dive headfirst into this supernatural world, or will you crumble under the pressure this new world puts on your shoulders?

▪︎ Features:

☛ Play as a male, female, or nonbinary

☛ Customize your appearance

☛ Pick your MC's first name

☛ Pursue romance and/or friendship with 6 different characters.

☛ Have wholesome moments with the characters and maybe even babysit a seer.

☛ Discover lasting romances or friendships with the champions of the seven hells.

☛ Define and refine relationships with a variety of characters, including friends, family, or dream demons.

☛ Decide how you will choose a skill from stealth, knowledge, athletics, or charisma.

☛ Play matchmaker

☛ Name your cat familiar, pick their breed, and personality!

☛ Shape your MC’s future and some of their past

💙 Lust

☛ Rosemary “Rosie” Brown | F | 5’2 | 22 years old???

Rosie is a figure of beauty, with a charming personality that could make anyone swoon and a love for all things fashion. Growing up in the "Jazz Age" has equipped her with an easygoing attitude that didn't stop after she died, taking up the position of Courtesan of Lust and later joining Hell's Campions. Now, on a mission to protect you, she starts to feel again, not just lust but love.

☛ Description: Her skin is a rich cocoa brown, with dark brown eyes and thick eyelashes. She has short, black, and curly hair that is loosely styled. Very short in stature with a slender build. 

☛ Warning: Past Abusive Relationship, Trust Issues, Talk of Receiving Racism

☛ Trope: Optional Friends With Benefits to Lovers, Sworn off relationships

❤️ Wraith

☛ Owen O’Conner  | M | 6’4 | 32 years old???

With titles granted to Owen by King Alexander the third, it was no secret that he was the best fighter even with his brash attitude, in the knighthood however after his honor was stripped away after losing the person that mattered the most to Owen. His loses carried with him into the after life, becoming the Warrior of Warth and later a Hell's Campion and has swore to his master to protect you (even with your Aunt Ziannia on his "Kill List") . Will you start to become more to him than just a job?

Description: A Scottish man with freckles, pale beige skin, light blue eyes, and faint scars all over his arms and chest. He has long ginger hair, usually styled in a man bun, so it is out of the way. Tall in stature with firm muscles and broad shoulders.

☛ Warning: Past Alcohol Abuse

☛ Trope: Emotional scars, Learning to Love again, Forbidden Love

💛 Greed

☛ Marcellus “Marcel” De Rosa  | M | 5'9 | 20 years old???

Marcel always believed the gods left him; growing up on the streets, the death of his best friend, and the sickness that was killing his brother didn't leave much room for hope. However, through all the loss, Marcel had a golden heart that showed everyone kindness even if they might have not deserved such. In the afterlife, he earned the title of Advisor of Greed and later became the leader of Hell's Campions, which were sent to keep a watchful eye over you.

Description: He has a warm, olive skin tone, light brown eyes that complement his lithe build. He has curly, dark brown hair that seems to have never been touched by a brush. There are burns on his feet.

☛ Tropes: Widow/widower, Golden Boy

🧡 Gluttony

☛ Marguerite “Margaret”  Badeaux | F | 5'8 | 21 years old???

Growing up in a high-class society, it was no surprise that Margaret was unaware of the revolution until it was too late. Dying at the hands of people who saw her as "scum," she carried the burden of never knowing the harm her family had caused until Margaret crossed over. Burying her sadness under the aura of sunshine, she started helping as many people as she could in the afterlife, earning the title Healer of Gluttony and later joining the ranks of Hell's Campions sent to watch over you. Will you be Margaret's first love?

Description: She has a pale skin tone, dark blue eyes that complement her slender build. She has light brown, choppy hair. There is a horizontal scar on the back of her neck

☛ Warning: Eating Disorder

☛ Trope: First Love, Sunshine RO

🩵 Sloth

☛ Tai Huang | M | 5'6 | 20 years old???

Being the child of a Chinese immigrant during the industrial revolution, Tai learned to be determined and have a good work ethic. When a tragic accident left him taking his last breath, Tai used his direct and intelligent personality to earn the favor of the Princess of Sloth, giving him the title of Spy Master of Sloth. Keeping a watchful eye on you as the only doctor in Lockwood. What is he hiding behind those tired eyes?

Description: He has a pale skin tone and green eyes that complement his slender build. He has chin-length black hair. Scars all over his chest and legs.

☛ Warning: Talk of receiving Racism

☛ Tropes: Grumpy RO, Lover in Denial, Honesty...he is a total tsundere

💚 Envy

☛ Zane Blackburn | M | 6’1 | 25 years old

Forgotten. Alone. Anger. That's all Zane has ever felt; when everyone seemed to abandon him, Zane placed his loyalty in the being that wants you dead. Through nightmares, you are able to communicate with him. You seem to find that behind his sarcastic and crass attitude, Zane is hiding his broken past.

Description: He has a pale skin tone and gray eyes that complement his swimmer build. He has styled, platinum blonde hair that seems to have too much hair spray. There are no scars on his body.

☛ Warning: Received emotional and physical abuse through Guardian, (Early Relationship) manipulation, suicidal tendencies

☛ Tropes: Rivals, Forbidden Love, Enemies to Lovers

[beauty-and-passion]

Eurovision 2023: more about the true winner because I said so

Hey, guess who is not over Eurovision 2023 yet.

It’s me, I am who.

I have never been so invested and still so obsessed over this year’s Eurovision. I mean, I am always hit by the post-depressive phase of Eurovision, but that lasts a couple days - during which I usually go through all the beautiful moments and listen to all the songs on repeat - then I’m back to my regular schedule of stupidly long analyses and fanfictions.

(By the way, sorry for all the Americans who follow me and have no idea of what I’m talking about or what happened in this year’s Eurovision. Just bear with me, I will come back to posting Sanders Sides stuff. Just not today)

This year... well, this year was truly something. And if the last year and the one before I was like “aww, what beautiful moments, I miss seeing these people having fun”, now it’s all mushed into one ball of feelings. I look at those artists having fun with the eyes of someone who saw how things went down. I look at them celebrating the true winner after the finale and I have this strange mix of nostalgia and heaviness.

I am not mad anymore for the result. Or better: I am and I will always be because 200 people stepped over the will of millions. But what this loss caused is just so fascinating and so unique, I want to keep exploring it - and maybe talking a little bit more about the true winner of Eurovision 2023 will help me process my feelings too.

Or I just will satisfy my need to ramble more about this incredible Finnish man, either way.

______________________

The sheer power of charisma

When you watch the entirety of Käärijä’s journey on this Youtube channel (and I suggest you do it, because it gives you a lot of food for thought), you notice a lot of interesting details.

From the moment he won the national competition and knew he had to go to Eurovision, Käärijä knew his only rival would’ve been Loreen. He said right from the start that it would’ve ended up with a confrontation between Sweden and Finland. He liked other songs and thought they could’ve been good opponents - but it’s pretty clear he knew the only one who could’ve opposed him was Sweden.

And he knew that Loreen was good. Even though I do not like her songs, even I have to admit she has good vocals. Sure, the vocals are the only thing I understand because she mumbles the rest of the song, but the vocals aren’t bad.

Käärijä knew she was the favorite to win. He praised her performance and called her “queen”, so he has been the first one to recognize her as a worthy opponent. He wasn’t so naive to think “I can easily beat her”.

However, he had some tricks up his sleeves. He knew his song was perfect for Eurovision, he basically designed it for that. He knew his performance would’ve got people’s attention. And he knew he had a lot of charisma.

You can say anything you want about him, but you cannot deny this man is charismatic. And this is a lot interesting, because charisma doesn’t have an exact definition and it’s not the same for everyone. And yet, we can all recognize and identify it as “charisma” when we see it.

The definition Wikipedia offers is that charisma is “a personal quality of presence or charm that compels its subjects”. And it’s undeniable that Käärijä has it. He has that genuine, simple honesty we see in childrens only and this activates our protective instincts, because we feel the need to protect him too. He is funny and makes us smile and everyone loves to smile and have fun. He is simple and humble and that makes him look more approachable and friendly than a superstar.

And his presence on stage is very, very good. He’s eye-catching and he knew it very well. He was the flashiest and the most interesting to look at - both because of his clothes and his appearance. Just compare him to the Cyprus guy: I don’t even remember the Cyprus guy’s face, but I doubt I will ever forget that iconic neon green bolero.

And I am sure he knew that very well. He knew the public would’ve loved him. He knew he would’ve gotten a lot of points because of the public. He knew he would’ve connected with them and not with the jury.

And so it was. The numbers are clear: he was and still is the public’s favorite. His result is the second highest in history right after Kalush Orchestra’s. The entire arena sang with him. During the voting portion, they kept calling his name. Everyone called him “winner”. As the Estonian singer Alika told him: “you had the public when they announced Loreen won”.

And by knowing that, I can understand why he was so bummed. He literally had everything: the perfect song, the charisma, public’s support. And I am pretty sure that, if the public gave more points to Loreen, he would’ve accepted his defeat easier.

But it wasn’t like that: he got more points than her in both the semifinal and the final. He has always been the public’s winner, right from the start. And even if he would've gotten the theoretical maximum of public votes from Europe (432), he still would've ended up behind Sweden.

Losing because 222 people gave your opponent an unbeatable lead isn’t something easy to digest. I mean, it’s been days and I haven’t digested it yet! And I am definitely not a singer, nor I did take part in the competition. However, I voted for him and, well, I am quite pissed that my money got wasted because of a stupid unfair system. The EBU should really refund everyone who tried to vote, considering there was no way to defeat the sheer power of the jury.

So, well, the competition ended with the public’s favorite losing the piece of glass. I will get over it, everyone will get over it. Käärijä himself will get over it - now he’s still rightfully sad about it, but as he said, life goes on.

And he will soon realize that losing the competition turned him into something more than a simple winner.

______________________

The birth of a legend

If Käärijä won, he would’ve been just the winner of Eurovision 2023. People would’ve loved him like they love Kalush Orchestra or Maneskin. Everyone would’ve been happy, a little bit of post-Eurovision depression as always and we would’ve forgotten it.

But losing had an even bigger impact, because Käärijä didn’t step down to second place, but over the first place. Being so spectacularly wronged in front of the world made him ascend to the status of legend and the public went crazy for him. Cha Cha Cha reached the top of Spotify's top 50 global, people from all European countries called him “the true winner” and I’ve seen more than one American, who knew nothing about Eurovision, watch his performance and protest for the result as well.

Even Tumblr was affected by this: the tag Eurovision trended for 3 days after its ending and, after it stopped trending, Käärijä kept doing it for days. And he’s still doing it, so good job people, let’s keep the party going on for a little longer: we all deserve it, after all. You know, as a little FUCK YOU to the jury.

What about Youtube? His grand final performance reached ca. 9 mln views in three days and if you check the comment section, is full of people calling him the true winner as well.

Heck, the Eurovision channel made a video specifically about his journey, like the usually do for winners only (in fact, they did one for Loreen. And Käärijä’s video got more views than Loreen’s in one single day).

And all over Europe people are still protesting and asking for the voting system to change. The Norway delegation asked it first and I fully support them, because they are constantly robbed by the jury. I liked Duncan Lawrence’s Arcade in 2019, but KEiiNO was a completely different level. (And if you loved KEiiNO too, please check their Youtube channel because they have made a lot of other songs and OH MY GOSH THEY ARE ALL GREAT)

Käärijä united Europe with his music and his energy and I understand why Finnish people are so proud of him: there are very few artists who are able to connect people so well. And he did it by using his mother tongue, not English! That’s an even bigger win imho, because it proves that if you have a great song, a strong performance and incredible charisma, people will appreciate you and go past the language barrier without any problem.

That’s why humankind loves music, after all: because it doesn’t need to be understood word by word, to reach people’s hearts.

______________________

The hero’s journey

There are many reasons why people fell in love with this funky green man and they all differ: someone loves his bubbly personality, others were touched by his genuinity, others just fell on the ground laughing and who doesn’t love someone that makes you laugh? And yes, there are some who are just horny for him and you are valid too, because he’s a good-looking man.

However, I think that the main reason why so many people got so invested, it’s because he had the perfect hero’s journey.

He already had a story perfect for a movie, even before starting Eurovision: when he was younger, he was diagnosed with colitis ulcerosa and the disease almost took his life (this post has an interview with all details). But because of that experience, he realized life is short and he should’ve pursued what he truly wanted - i.e. singing. I mean, this alone is perfect material for a movie already.

But now he got another story, and it’s even more like a movie: the story of the young man no one knew, who left his city in his small country, to reach the big European stage. A man with a funny spirit, who connected with everyone despite his broken English - and he wonderfully improved it along the way. Just look at how much more confident he became! Truly a masterful example of how we should just talk and make mistakes, in order to get better in another language.

So we followed the adventures of this funny man and of the friends he made along the way. We had fun and cried for the beauty of his friendship with Bojan (he literally called Käärijä “my new brother” and a small part of my heart that was broken got immediately healed). We got involved in his climbing to the top, we saw him face the behemoth that was opposing him and hoped for him to overcome it.

And he got the tragic conclusion of a hero’s journey: a hero who won and yet still lost.

People love this shit. We have always loved the story of the little one against the unbeatable enemy, the nobody who got the recognition he deserves, the kind heart defeated by the corrupt system. Those are all things that touch people and all aspects of the hero’s journey. And people naturally hope for a happy ending, so if we get a sad, bad or unfair one instead, we tend to feel even more empathetic towards the protagonist. And if your protagonist is as lovable as he is, the feeling is 100x stronger.

I really don’t know if the national juries expected this to happen, when they knew who the public’s favourite was and yet decided to award a different artist. But by doing that, they became the perfect enemy to close Käärijä’s journey and build a legend.

So, well, thanks for sucking so much. You built the legend you didn’t want to.

And yes, Käärijä’s enemy IS NOT Loreen. Loreen did her thing, she didn’t bribe the judges to give her votes. The problem is the jury’s power. So, for all the people who are still harrassing her: please stop hating this woman, she just did what other artists did too.

And since we’re talking about her, please stop saying shit like “She shouldn’t have participated!” too, because this is both very stupid (everyone is allowed to participate in Eurovision) and very disrespectful towards Käärijä himself. It’s a bit like saying that sure, he was good, but, like, you know, not enough good.

And this is totally wrong because this man has been able to defeat Loreen twice, both during the semifinal and the final (at least according to the votes that matter). So stop undermining his ability: he is a good artist. Actually, an artist so good only Loreen was able to compete against him.

And if you still think it’s right to hate Loreen for whatever reason, then I would like to bring this to your attention:

The king literally proposed to Loreen. And, considering how accurate was his foresight about the whole competition, I think it’s time we start to think about when it will happen and how many children they will have.

So if you are still harassing her: stop protesting for the piece of glass and ask her when will they get married, instead. We need to know.

Also, wouldn’t that be an even more perfect ending for Käärijä’s hero’s journey? Not only the great evil (aka the jury) will be defeated, but he will marry the only woman strong enough to oppose him. 100/10 I want a movie now.

And yes, I know Käärijä also proposed to Bojan and they are fathers of a baby sea lion. But what’s the problem? Doesn’t Käärijä have two hands? With one hand can hold Bojan, with the other Loreen, duh.

(Then he will probably need another hand for Selena from Austria, because I think she developed a little crush on him but hey, that’s the life of a hero I guess.)

______________________

Have you listened to his other songs yet?

I just want to confirm they are bops and you should listen to them immediately. Also, do not forget his concert on Saturday that will be available worldwide. Let’s show love to the king.

And yes, that means another post will come out. I mean, there are still so many things we need to know! I want to see the photos of that mural people are doing for him in Vantaa, I want to see the music collaboration between him and Bojan, I want to see them visiting little Edgar at the zoo. And I can’t wait to hear about his future European tour, because he has to do one. And maybe that will fully convey him how big his impact has been indeed.

As people told him in the after party, he conquered the world. Now he just needs to see it for himself.

[annot8]

Top 20 RotE characters!

My final piece of ranking for this series!

There will be some spoilers in this!

20. Nettle

- If there’s one thing I love, it’s difficult women. Nettle is as harsh as her name suggests. I love young Nettle with her dream magic and how completely kind she is to Thick. And I love older Nettle, who doesn’t mind hurting Fitz’s feeling for Bee’s benefit. She is unforgiving and always strives to do what she thinks is best - even if she doesn’t always know what’s best.

19. Thymara

- Definitely my favourite Rain Wild character. She had my favourite POV in those books as well. I liked how her story paralleled Sintara’s, with her dragon features becoming more beautiful, getting her wings, and her determination to be her own woman. I didn’t love that she ended up with Tats and ended up having a kid with him, but again, it mirrored Sintara’s mating with Mercor.

18. Starling Birdsong

- are we seeing a theme? Starling is so great because she simply does not care if people like her personality. She’s beautiful, she’s talented, and she got her song. The way she destroyed Fitz in Golden Fool was a peak moment in this series. And something i love so much is that no matter how much Fitz complains about her or thinks she’s annoying, he can’t help but like her.

17. Chade Fallstar

- I hate him, I love him, he’s the worst, he’s the best. I’ve said this before - I have complicated feelings about Chade but regardless, they are strong feelings. Ngl, I misjudged his age and thought he was about 80 in the first book so when he made it to the last book?? Incredible. His death got me in a way that I really didn’t expect it to.

16. Dutiful Farseer

- My boy! He had some great development from the most fifteen year old boy ever, to a genuinely good king. I loved his dynamic with Fitz in Fool's Errand. It was really on sight with those two and it was entertaining the entire time. 

15. Selden Vestrit

- I saw someone say once that Selden felt like a random npc who managed to get a nat20 on charisma. He's great in Ship of Destiny, and fantastic in the Rain Wild Chronicles. His bond with Chassim was unexpected but so so lovely. 

14. Molly Chandler

- I understand why people don't like her. Her character gets in the way of Fitzloved. Soz guys, but I've seen too many female characters get hate because fans were rooting for a mlm ship. Don't get me wrong, its frustrating but Molly never inserts herself in Fitz's life. It the other way around. I think people don't like her less because of who she is and more because of what she represents. She's a simple life, and is the face of Fitz's delusion. But I love her. She's down to earth, she's rough around the edges, she's a simple gal who wants a simple life.

13. Etta

- Etta!!! From a Divvytown prostitute to Queen of the Pirate Isles??? Insane, incredible, showstopping. One thing that I absolutely love about her that I think is overlooked is that, despite how much Kennit was pushing for it and how much Wintrow was pining for her, it did not even cross her mind to get with this 15 year old boy. Kennit is all like 'teach the boys your… skills.' and she's like, ah yes, I will teach him how to use knives. Queen behaviour. 

12. Paragon

- Everyone's favourite murderous boat! His dynamic with Amber is great, and his friendship with Brashen is really underrated! He goes from being a grumpy old man to a bratty little boy in seconds (hmmm maybe the similarities between he and Fitz go past the face). He's unpredictable and he will kill again!

11. Althea Vestrit

- I fell in love with her immediately. She's rude to Kyle and then spends the next two weeks sleeping on the floor so she can be closer to Vivacia. She had my heart from the get go. Her ending will always leave a bitter taste in my mouth but none of it is her fault. She starts off a little immature and really grows into a woman worthy of captaining her own ship.

10. Wintrow Haven

- Ship of Magic!Wintrow has my entire heart. He frustrates me to no end with how he treats Vivacia but his arc is insane. He's generally an honourable guy. He frees the slaves and aids in the overthrowing of his father. He becomes a competent sailor and always shows Etta kindness. And despite his corruption by Kennit, he retains his moral compass and grows to be a good guy. I choose to ignore him in Ship of Destiny (just like Robin Hobb oops-) because I don't know who that man is :)

9. Malta Vestrit

- Without a doubt the best Liveships character. She has some of the best development I've ever seen. She's really the Amy March of Bingtown. She's self-centred, annoying, and that girlllllll. I love her so much. She's so clever and achieves so much.

8. Verity Farseer

- MY KING! treated Fitz like a human being which, in this book, is a step up from how most people treat him - especially when he's a boy. He's always a friendly face, even when he's so bogged down by defending the entirety of the Six Duchies with no thanks. He loved very honestly and had great respect for people who deserved it. And in the end, he made the ultimate sacrifice for his people for his folk. 

7. Bee Farseer

- She's just as much my daughter as she is Molly's, Fitz's, Nighteyes', and Beloved's. She won me over so quickly, and just when I thought I couldn't love her more, she started biting. I hope one day we see more of her!

6. LadyPatience

- You should have been mine???????? Such a fun, unapologetic character. She is so herself. I feel so seen by her constant, ever-changing hobbies and messy room. She and Lacey are the duo of the century.

5. Burrich

- When I read a book and I fancy a character, I tend to stay loyal to that character. I can love all of the characters, but I only love one. I took one look at Burrich and knew i'd found my man. His parenting skills were questionable at time, but he was doing what he thought was right. He gave up his life to raise Chivalry's son. He stepped up and took care of Molly with no expectations. He raised Nettle like she was his own. Just a solid, good man.

4. Nighteyes

- The best parent in this whole series. He's sarcastic, he's clever, and he's got such an entertaining dry sense of humour. He's a great influence on Fitz and he isn't afraid to call him out. The Wit is such a fantastic aspect of this series and the wit-bond that Fitz and Nighteyes share is so so beautiful. 

3. Kettricken

My Queen. I haven't felt this strongly about a character in a long time. Always a beacon of honour in a story of political intrigue, secrets, and betrayal. They really lucked out with this arranged marriage. Not a single person in this story deserved her. 

2. Beloved

- Fool, Amber, Lord Golden, Beloved. What a character. every facet of this character is so interesting and deep and beautiful. Amber was THE character in Liveships, the Fool was THE character in Farseer, Beloved with THE character in Tawny Man. THE CHARACTER OF ALL TIME.

Fitz

- You get it.

[disciple-of-owen]

Kataang Finale Kiss: Some Thoughts

Much has been written on the importance of Aang and Katara sharing a hug before the big finale kiss, and with good reason; the friendship between these two characters is both the most important facet of their relationship and one of the fundamental pillars of the narrative. What has been discussed far less is the finale kiss itself (or rather, the structure of said kiss), and how it is connected to the kiss on Ember Island.

We all know how the Ember Island fiasco went: a distressed Aang, upset by a play’s contents and fearful that his future might be cut short, kisses Katara after she explicitly states that she is confused about her feelings. This was a mistake, plain and simple; one which Aang immediately and unreservedly acknowledges. Some have said that the show’s writing stumbles regarding the aftermath of this encounter; that this ill-timed kiss is never adequately acknowledged or addressed in the finale. While a line or two more of dialogue might not have gone amiss, I would argue that this moment IS addressed (albeit indirectly), and in a way that cleverly subverts the ‘hero gets the girl’ trope.

While not always the case, ‘hero gets the girl’ stories often end on an uncomfortable power imbalance: the (usually male) protagonist, fresh from his glorious victory over the forces of evil, sweeps the (usually female) love interest off her feet, breaking down any of her lingering romantic reservations through the force of his newfound charisma.

What we see in the final moments of ATLA is the exact opposite. Despite being every inch the triumphant saviour, Aang surrenders himself completely to Katara. He lets her initiate all of the physical contact between them, and even when she goes in for a real, honest-to-goodness kiss, Aang declines to meet her halfway.

He declines even to meet her part of the way.

Aang does not kiss Katara until she 110% commits to it, giving her total control of the situation. This demonstrates that he not only deeply regrets what happened on Ember Island, but has chosen to improve himself because of it. Aang’s focus on Katara’s consent is further seen in the comics when, during their reunion in the South Pole, he asks if he can kiss her. When she replies, “Maybe not in front of my Dad?”, he immediately responds with a warm, “Okay”.

One of the wonderful things about ATLA is that even its purest characters are flawed. They make mistakes, just as we all do. But when we make a mistake, it isn’t enough to simply express regret; we have to grow and learn from our failures. This is exactly what Aang does in the finale kiss, expressing not only his love for Katara, but his respect for her as an individual and friend.

[mythicamagic]

May I ask why you like Sukuna so much? Don't get me wrong, I love him too, he reminds me of Yang from Piofiore, but I thought you would be more attracted to Gojo or Geto? 🤭

Thank you for the excuse to yap, anon! Talking about my biases is one of my favourite things to do.

I guess my answer can be summed up with three points:

Sukuna is hot - I like his tattoos and his true form satisfies my monster romance cravings

Sukuna is charismatic

Intelligent villains make brain go brrr.

To elaborate, when JJK first came out I did simp a bit for Gojo because of his eyes and white hair. It wasn't really anything other than shallow - hey, he's pretty.

(I've never been a Geto girlie, I respect those who are, but I haven't felt anything toward him other than sympathy for his breakdown or apathy toward him becoming a cult leader type. He's aight.)

When Sukuna was first revealed I found him entertaining but wrote him off as purely insane. Fun to watch but nothing interesting. This changed in episode 4.

That episode showed his charisma tbh. An insane villain is only fun to watch passively, that or they become annoying. A truly personable villain is one that lives comfortably by enjoying what they want to do but also demonstrating intelligence and cunning. Guys like Sukuna and Yang are my favourite type of villain because they're so incredibly selfish they seek to assuage their boredom via entertainment. They thrive in violence that isn't targeted or hateful, just pure enjoyment. Putting aside the murder part- as someone who is incredibly meek and anxious irl, those characters appeal to me because they thrive unapologetically. Their ugliness is embraced and celebrated.

From a purely simping standpoint- Someone like Nanami is the greenest flag you've ever seen. That man would take care of you and love you. 10/10 you should marry, he's perfect. However, for someone like me, that perfection would make my imperfections feel worse.

Characters like Sukuna basically remove that because they're reveling in their own fun. I think to really enjoy them is to remove your own ego from the equation in a way- because these men will not cater to you emotionally. Yang is there for pleasure, Sukuna is there for entertainment, ect.

However in this way - you can kind of find vindication through them too. Liliana grew into herself more by becoming Yangs woman. She lost her freedom but gained it in other ways by experiencing sexual liberation and the darker aspects of the world- living in it and adapting. I figure life with Sukuna would be like that too in some AU where he wouldn’t automatically kill you.

I find Sukuna the most interesting character in JJK because he's centered and intelligent even as he revels in chaotic destruction. He's well read and has a history that gives him a tangible presence. He's strong but playful, cruel but absent of hatred for his opponents in a way that feels almost respectful even as they're fighting to the death (with the exception of Itadori).

A lot of what he is ticks my boxes. I expect Scar from Wuthering Waves will also scratch my itch for this type of villain too once we know more about him.

Er so yeah...take your pick anon haha. Simple answer: Sukuna is a cool villain, and I like to watch him have fun (not excusing anything he does but I trust your media literacy enough to understand that)

Complicated answer for simping: something, something, female empowerment fantasy through being allowed to be the worst version of yourself with a villain, thus achieving liberation from societal constraints.