it's fun because the things that appeal to me most about the three canonical evil clones/twins of hermitcraft are similar, but they're all different.
evil x appeals to me because he is very much Just Some Guy, for all that he's an evil force of nature; when he's sympathetic, it's because he's Just Some Guy who's been shackled to the terrible fate of being "evil", but when he's a villain (like in season eight!), the things that make him villainous also aren't the supernatural aesthetics, but the ways he is also the evil of being just some guy. for all the lightning and thunder and echo of xisuma's appearance, he isn't anyone special. (xisuma is.)
helsknight appeals to me for almost the opposite reason: this isn't just some guy, this is you, explicitly, a demon that possessed your clone and possesses all the things that are bad about you, magnified. he's a mirror, inherently, in his very creation. in the stories where he's a threat, he's menacing because he's a mirror of someone we should like; in the stories where he's sympathetic, we must confront how much of ourselves are also mirrors. (what happens if you don't like what you see in those mirrors, anyway?)
empires!false is somewhere in-between; she's not a mirror but she is the result. she's learning something you'd rather have forgotten about your past, and at her most sympathetic, we feel for the way she's been cast aside so false can 'fix her', the things done to her memory. at her least sympathetic, though, she's reflecting these pains onto others; violence begets violence, and even with it missing, the past begets her. there's no looking at empires!false without seeing the echoes of what false did to her. (there's no looking at false without it either.)
............then they also all appeal to me by being ridiculous failguys but like if you want to be DRAMATIC ABOUT IT, the ways they appeal to me are like the above,
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hold on i got this idea randomly and its like past midnight so yeah... bear with me.
thinking about reader who works at a local cafe, and might be just a little crazy about price who's new to the area, slowly becoming a regular customer of this cafe.
it wasn't as if you weren’t freakily obsessed with him or anything. you were just too infatuated with him, having memorised his order by heart, memorised the way his eyes would crinkle in delight whenever he’d find out that you already had his tea all prepared, nice and warm — just the way he likes it. wait, how did you know he was going to come at this exact same time?
you couldn’t help it. he was a walking distraction — always sitting at the far edge table in the cafe, absorbed in some paperwork or just simply staring out of the window, looking so unreal. you needed to read him, learn everything about him, learn all of his schedule and stuff.
you’d accidentally forget to add a thing or two in his orders sometimes. he ordered a cookie? oops, you forgot it. but it’s okay, you wanted him to approach you and start a conversation, even if it's over some missed cookie.
sometimes he’d have a woman next to him, discussing some stuff very quietly, making it quite obvious that it was over whatever their job was given how he always handed her those papers.
you had to be rational, you had to. but how could you when he was always smiling so brightly at her? especially when she herself was so pretty. were you really getting insecure during your shift? yeah.
you couldn’t start a ruckus here by doing something impulsive, but you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t tempted to.
you were too nervous to start a conversation on your own too. not even a proper “how’s your day going?”
your obsession stuck with you staring at him throughout your work shift as long as he was there, carefully looking at the watch on his wrist and the case of his phone, figuring out all the brands in your head.
you had even figured out what perfume he wore during one encounter when you caught a whiff of his cologne — not strong and quite masculine. it suited him so much. you remember spending an hour in the male perfume section in a local store that day.
and oh, price knew all of it. he wasn’t stupid. he was too smart in fact, always feeling your scrutinising and curious gaze on him, filled with an odd longing. he had noticed the way your hands would accidentally brush against his sometimes when giving him his order, the way you would shyly hand him some extra stuff for free sometimes.
heck, he even noticed the way you gave him one of your napkins once, saying that he might need it. what were you even trying to do, claim him? yeah, that was your little way of leaving something of yours to him.
you’d feel sick sometimes, all head over heels over just a regular customer, writing letters and letters over him, simply rambling about how nice his voice was and how warm he seemed, just wanting those strong hairy arms of his to cradle you against him. sometimes you’d also just write about all the interactions you had with him. your favourite memory was when he first told you his name, resulting in you squealing into your pillow the whole night happily. john.
of course, you were never going to send these letters to him.
unbeknownst to you, price was always staring at you too whenever you were distracted by some other customers, his fingers lightly rubbing against his beard. who knew a sweet thing like you could be so... eager? you were like some desperate starved puppy to needy for something, anything.
and maybe he needed to do something about it. he might even dig some information of you through some people, who knows? maybe keep you all to himself.
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