#a desperate bid for motivation

[bomberqueen17]

momentum

last year i kept missing updates and people were so sweet like “you don’t have to post X often! you don’t have to hit a deadline! do what suits your schedule!” and that was lovely and I did appreciate it, but the point of the deadlines was momentum. Now I have fallen down so thoroughly on posting ever at all, zero routine left, no concept of it even, that I have no momentum and my brain is like clearly no one cares about this so give up, and that sucks, and i’m exhausted and cranky and useless and shitty but by god i am not abandoning my like fifty WIPs that i care deeply about i swear and so anyway i am trying to force the engine to turn over, as hard as I can, i swear other people were excited about this and i can use that to get myself excited about it again, i can do this

so please help me get excited about literally anything, i am in despair.

SNIPPETS of THINGS i am TRYING TO MAKE HAPPEN:

direct prequel to Fit For Pearls:

“Did he ask you to tell me about the meeting?” Ciri asked, eyeing him.

“He did not directly ask,” Voorhis said stiffly, “but he knows I intended to ensure you had the opportunity to attend such meetings. Had he not wanted me to tell you, he would have needed to order me not to.”

“Is that how it works?” Ciri asked.

“It’s how that works,” Voorhis said, very stiff and formal and not much like his normal self. She wondered what he was trying to convey. Was it displeasure, that this was his task? Was it nervousness, that it was in fact not his actual task and he was perhaps taking advantage of some confusion to play politics?

She hated politics.

She’d chosen politics.

“I thank you,” she said wearily.

next bit of the Peace-Tied series, a tender little Iorveth & Yennefer moment with hair-braiding, very self-indulgent:

By the time they finished writing and elaborately illuminating the placard, Yennefer’s hair was caught back in a series of delicate little braids that then twined around one another, and caught her hair up off her neck. She was also inexplicably near tears at the tenderness of all of it. 

Iorveth knelt up to finish fastening the ends of her hair behind her ear, after having twined the braids up over her head. His body was a long, warm press along her back, his hands warm and big cradling her head. 

She tipped her head back and he held her like that, gentle and reassuring. “How’s that?” he murmured. 

She took a shaky breath, and he smoothed a hand down the side of her face, settling down on his knees to put his arms around her from behind, cradling her back against his shoulder. “There,” he said. “Now your hair looks like someone cares for you.”

“Is that what it means,” she murmured.

“It does,” he said, and pressed a kiss against the side of her head, above the hairline. “Thank you for fixing my face. I wasn’t ready to die, not like that.”

“I am glad that I could,” she said.

and finally this weird modern a/u (tw for self-directed ableist language in dialogue) i’ve been working on slowly forever that is so close to cohering and yet doesn’t quite, in which I think you can guess what Joe’s thusfar unknown real name is:

A hand caught him by the arm, two hands, steadying him, and helped him sit up. Joe was even more frightening up close; Roche had noticed the eyepatch from a distance but his face was heavily-scarred on that side, like somebody had gone at the eye with a knife and missed. Or, like something had hit him very hard in the face, taken the eye, then bounced off his cheekbone and twisted down his face. 

But his hands were strong and he steadied Roche for a long moment, and despite the frightfully leering aspect his damaged face gave him, his expression was actually neutral. “Is anything broken?”

“I got shot,” Roche gritted out, “twice, a year ago, this is as good as it fucking gets. I just landed badly, just now, and it takes me a minute.”

He saw Joe notice the cane. “Ah,” the man said. “I hadn’t realized.” He looked around. “Dogs knocked you over?”

“The saluki is a fucking menace,” Roche said. He couldn’t sit like this, it was agony on his hip. “They’re all fucking menaces.” He couldn’t get up, he couldn’t stay down, he was shivering with the pain.

“Let’s get you to a chair,” Joe said, calm and businesslike. “Where’s the damage? Hip and shoulder?” Roche managed to gesture, and Joe proceeded to mostly lift him unaided, which hurt like a motherfucker, but once he’d dumped Roche, surprisingly gently-- he was very strong-- into the armchair in the corner it was easier to get his various joints at angles that didn’t hurt. “Do you need anything else,” he said, far too neutral and calm. 

“Yeah,” Roche said, savage with agonized frustration, “I need to not be a fucking cripple.”

Joe didn’t answer for a long moment. “While I can relate to that,” he said, “I meant, do you have any medication or anything that would help?”

Gritting his teeth, Roche pointed to the paper bag he’d left on the sideboard, that still had the pill bottle in it. There were still a couple of pills in the old bottle but he wasn’t going to have Joe wander through his house looking for them. 

Joe took the bottle out of the bag. “One or two,” he said. 

“I can-- one,” Roche said, giving up; Joe was already opening the bottle. 

“Can you dry-swallow or do you need water,” Joe said, but he was already moving over to the dish drainer to retrieve a glass. 

“Water,” Roche said, resenting it. Joe put the bottle down and filled the glass, bringing over a pill between his thumb and forefinger, and the filled glass in his other hand. 

Roche took the pill and the glass, inwardly fuming. He could get the lid off a fucking pill bottle, and he hadn’t asked for this. 

“Would an ice pack help or is it past that?” Joe asked, and while his tone was neutral, it grated over Roche’s last nerve. 

“You know,” he said, “I didn’t ask for your fucking pity.”

Joe said nothing, just stood regarding him. After a moment, he bent down, looming uncomfortably close. “I know we don’t know one another, Vernon,” he said quietly, “but I want you to look me in the eye for a moment, and then tell me that you think I don’t know what it’s like to have to adjust to a new way of living after a bad injury.” *

Roche’s anger flattened out abruptly, staring into his neighbor’s mangled face. The remaining eye was green, astonishingly green against the medium-brown of the man’s complexion. “Uh,” was all he managed; he didn’t have an answer for that.

“I understand that you’re in pain,” Joe went on quietly, straightening up and smoothing his hand down the front of his battered jacket, “and I can extend you a little grace based on that, but I want you to realize what you’re doing.” He glared down at Roche. “One last time, is there anything else you need, or are you all right on your own from here?”

Face burning, Roche managed to grit out, “I’m all right on my own from here.”

Joe stared at him for a long moment, and then turned and left, closing the door carefully and quietly behind himself. 

The canine energy surged through the kitchen again in the wake of his departure, but then Strega came over and put her head in Roche’s lap, and he fondled the silky curls of her ears and said, “Awesome work, guys, we’re doing great!”

*yes this is the Look Deep Into My Eyes Ernie meme, i could not resist

[winteratdusk]

WIP Game

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Thank you for the tag @kaira-elffish!! :)

Between writing for school, trying to write some original stuff and my complete inability to focus on more than one thing at a time I don’t actually have much in the WIP folder, but this still looks fun! I am actively working on a few, but just for fun I’m also including some that I haven’t touched in so long they probably don’t really count as WIPs anymore (but hey, maybe this will inspire me to actually finish them🙃)

I’ve got:

longing ch 11

end of the world 1, 2

missing scene 2 (paper hearts)

oct 10/12

1943

(these names mean very little to me also, so that’s fun)

And I’m way too shy to be good at Tumblr so I’m officially just tagging anyone who sees this and wants to do it 😅

[nanqmies]

Dainty | Boothill

cw: really bad southern slang, slight bondage, overstimulation, facial, he eats you out, praise, creampie, exhibition cause you’re outside, consent isn’t verbally stated but it is consensual, hitting it raw, biting + marking, oral, brat taming, porn with plot and i think thats all?

wc: 2.5k

a/n: i finally have motivation again.. it took months but my brain is flowing with ideas!!!! please enjoy my work!~

nsfw under the cut~

God-fucking-dammit. One second you're relaxing in the comfort of your penthouse, gazing out the window as music lowly plays in the background. The next your mother is kicking you out the house for a "wake up call" throwing a bag of necessities out next to you on the street, calling you spoilt and ungrateful for not appreciating the things she and your father have done for you. Sending you out to this dirty old countryside with no buildings, no people, and no service for miles! Seriously? She must be crazy! What about college? Your friends?? Even your butler bids you goodbye when dropping you at some stupid rusted bench in the middle of nowhere. Powering your phone on and raising it high in the air, desperately trying to get some bars to call an uber, groaning in annoyance when your phone overheats and shuts down.

How long has it been since you got here? Sweat coats your forehead causing your hair to stick uncomfortably to your skin, begrudgingly dragging your luggage behind you. Your mouth is dry from dehydration, stomach rumbling for a crumb of food on your plate. It feels like you've been walking along this dirt path for a lifetime. Fortunately your efforts have paid off, finding a small inn, the first building in the miles of grassy fields and farmland. Maybe god truly was on your side! Moving your aching legs to the double doors of the inn, pushing it open and begging the owner for a room to stay. Digging through your wallet and slamming a few hundreds on the front desk, the man behind counts the crinkled bills and leads you to through the halls. Unlocking the last uninhabited room with the key to reveal the ratty and unkempt space, the dim lamp flickering on and off, unexplainable stains on the sheets of the bed with musty smell emitting from the room.

Your nose crinkles in disgust, there... there's no way this room is $200 a night... Glance over the owner, you notice the gold tooth in his mouth shimmering while he grins,, as if he expects you to sleep in some dingy place like this?? You turn around and rush out the doors as quickly as possible, there's absolutely no way in hell you're sleeping in that room... Speeding out on the dirt road and falling to your knees, stress, exhaustion and hunger overwhelms your body. How could you possibly survive in a horrid place like this? No butlers, no phone, no air conditioning, this has to be abuse right?! Laughing hysterically at the absurdity of your situation.

You don't know how long you’re sat there until the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts, looking up you see him. A tall man with slightly tanned skin, long white hair adorned with black accents, covered by a dark gray cowboy hat. He wore a cropped jacket with a scarf hanging down the back with tight black slacks that flared out at the ends. A belt around his waist with a holster and a stack of bullets on the hips

"Ain't yer ma' tell you it's rude to ignore someone when they're talkin' to ya?" the strong southern accent snaps you back to reality, brows furrowing at the man when you shakily stand on your sore.. sore feet.

"What's some city boy doing round ere' this time of day.?" The man persists in his questioning, an annoyed look plays on your face. "I was kicked out, sent away, whatever you'd prefer to call it. For some stupid wake up call." -"| see.. kicked out by yer folks? Nowhere to stay?" His brow rises in curiosity, how amusing.. Some spoilt city boy hauling his luggage around like some sort of idiot, it was painfully obvious to him that you weren't from these parts.. You stomp your foot in annoyance trying to power your phone on but alas it stays black, the screen hot to the touch.

"Ugh! Can my butler just pick me up! The only place to stay is that damned inn." Before you're able to complain you're interrupted by a loud laugh, the cowboy wiping his eye with a chuckle, revealing his sharp toothed smile.

"Aren't you cute.. Ain't no butlers round ere' to save you dainty boy." His words immediately ticked you off, crossing your arms over your chest with a glare. Is he really laughing at your expense? "Dainty boy? Is that supposed to be a joke?" You were now clearly irritated, raising a brow at his laughter, he smiles and tilts his hat down. "Just an observation sweetheart." clearing his throat to try and calm his chuckles. "Tch.. You think you're better than me cause you're from the countryside?" You lean on your luggage for support, you were already exhausted from the scorching heat and long journey his annoying attitude wasn't making it any better. Snickering a bit he decides to indulge in your bad mood a bit more..

"Better than you? Course not.." he takes a step towards you.

"Fancy little electronics and butlers.. so fudging clean and proper.. Ain't never gotten dirty in yer life.." he takes his last step directly in front of you. Leaned over to your shorter height, casting a shadow over you. You swallow thickly, sensing danger in those dark eyes of his. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep yourself composed, the close proximity making it difficult.

"And what's wrong with being clean and proper huh?" You ask, trying to keep your voice steady, "Who wants to be sweaty and dirty like you?" challenging his tone. You expect him to back off but he does the opposite, laughing lowly at you. A raspy one at that. Tilting his hat down and running his tongue over his cracked lips..

"Ain't that right.. Boys like you are my favorite."

You can't even question what he meant by that statement because he stands to his full height and glances over at you, immediately asking another question.

"Anywho.. You got nowhere to stay right?" You're caught off guard but nod reluctantly, "I don't.. but I'm sure your place isn't any better than that dirty old inn." Responding with a scoff, his eyes narrow slightly, a twitch in his smile that's barely noticeable. Scoffing, he drags you along to his horse, helping you get on as it rides through the fields with long gallops. You hold onto his waist, terrified to fall off the moving creature. On the way to his farm he shares his name.. Boothill he tells you, telling him your own in return. Conversation flies by easy with Boothill, listening to you complain about your parents and the boring countryside they left you in. Only answering with a nod or a hum, as easy as the conversation flows by you can't help but feel a bit uneasy around him. Not mentioning family or friends or anything about his personal life, barely knowing a lick about him while he knows your life story.

After about an hour the horse stops at the large farm buildings, a stable for horses and a small batch of chickens and a few cows grazing in the fields. It's oddly.. nice? You trip slightly off the horse, looking at the perimeter of the place. Boothill leads you into his farmhouse, a comforting look you didn't expect. Warm and nicely decorated, cinnamon candles burning a pleasant scent around the house. Grinning at your awed expression, "Is it old and dirty like that inn?" He taunts you, a cocky tone in his words. Sighing in defeat you shake your head no and roll your eyes. Like the gentleman he is he brings your luggage upstairs, touring the house. Boothill nudges the door of the guest bedroom open, dropping your belongings on the bed. And lord he was right,, it was so much better than that stupid inn! Relishing in the feeling of soft sheets under you, Boothill grins once more at the sight.

"Well now.. better rest yer aching bones.. cause tomorrow.. yer working for me." Immediately you shoot up from bed, confusion clear on your face.. WORK? What does he mean work?? He can tell by your expression that you're awfully surprised. "Hm? You didn't think i'd let you stay for free didya?" He wishes you goodnight but not before mentioning you'll "need it' for tomorrow.. Whatever that means..

Waking up with breakfast isn't what you expected, wearing a pair of thin jean shorts and a tank top. Boothill looks over his shoulder when you finally awaken, "Ah.. Rise n shine sleepin' beauty.." he hums cooking, flipping the pancake in the pan. You sit at the table and wait for him to finish breakfast, looking around for a while. He ends up breaking the silence with an odd ask, "Do you like rope city boy?" You were rather confused by this, eyebrows furrowed. "Rope..? Why do you ask?" The kitchen falls quiet for a few long seconds, "Just askin’.."

After breakfast you're led outside, he tells you the tasks you're assigned with:

Feed the animals

Plant and water the crops

Time passes with the tasks you're forced to complete, he's sick of moans and complaints about the hot weather, the sun being too bright and the work being too hard. Boothill feels throbbing i n his temple, jesus you're annoying. Bratty, loud and ungrateful. Has nobody shown you anything about respect? Clearly he'd have to be the one to smack some manners into you..

.

.

.

"God.. always complaining about something huh." Boothill mumbles as he ties the coarse rope over your thighs, keeping them tightly together. Moving up to do the same with your wrists. He watches with a sharp eye, you're sprawled out underneath him in the grass unable to squirm away from his grasp. "I 'ought to force the brat outta'ya myself." Boothill bends you over and forces your head into the grass, yanking down the flimsy fabric of those shorts of yours down to your thighs. Catching his bottom lip between his teeth at the sight, completely bare underneath such thin shorts. * Easy Access * "Aren't you a sight for sore eyes darlin." gripping your hips tightly and spreading you open, impatiently kissing over your thighs..

Carnal desire burning inside his chest as his lips part eagerly to run his tongue over your tight rim, plunging his tongue in with such intensity it sent shivers down your spine. Tongue lapping down to your cock then back up, hand tightening around your throbbing shaft as he pulls the skin back to start stroking you. The euphoric sensation becoming overwhelming as he continues, it's so difficult to ignore the hot feeling of him prodding inside, spreading you open like never before. Hands clenching and writhing against the rope tightened over your delicate skin, pitiful mewls slipping through your lips.

"A-Ahn..! hmn~ don't! not there..-" A boyish yelp coming out when Boothill's hand struck down on the flesh of your ass. "Yer so goshdarn prissy.." he mumbles against your skin, fastening the pace of his hand on your dick. Unable to stop the way his tongue goes from running along the outside to fully thrusting his tongue inside. "Not letting a man finish his work.." he hums while you shake underneath him eyes rolling back when you finish, coating his hand in white. Murmuring in amusement not bothering to cover his laugh.

"Well color me surprised. ain't ever seen such an eager thing.." kissing up your back whilst he pulls your shirt off, forcing you down further into the grass. He unzips his slacks to free his hardened cock, spitting on his hand to lubricate his shaft. Lining himself up with your sex and slowly pushing in, teeth clenching when his cock stretches you open with a mix of pain and pleasure. "H-Hahh…. i-it won't-fuck.. fit..!"

Tears streaming down the apples of your cheeks, Boothill knits his fingers into your hair. Rocking his hips back and forth with a slow pace, getting you used to his large size. "Look at you.. whining all over me..ain't that sweet darlin!." he drawls into your ear, body on top of yours fucking into you. His pace quickening with his intense assault on your body, sharp teeth biting into his lips. Groaning loudly at the feeling of you squeezing him tightly, the sounds of your angelic cries of pleasure echoing in his ears. "Hnng..! I-Its ah.. s-so good.. jesus.." mumbling incoherently when your hips move against him for more, a creamy ring of white circling the base of his cock. "Ah.. hmn.. god..! Yer squeezin' me like a virgin." he sinks his sharp teeth into your shoulder blade, causing the skin to break and bleed.

Trying to hold on to anything but to no prevail, arms tied behind your back. "Cause. am a virgin~!" Slurred words constantly fall from your mouth, Boothill only put haste in his thrust, desperate to fuck the attitude outta you and make you his. "Hm..? Must be why yer so gosh darn sensitive... haven't even started yet." Suddenly you're pulled up, back against his chest. The warmth, the closeness overwhelming your senses.. The full feeling of his girth tearing you open to places your measly fingers could only imagine reaching. Maybe he should be more gentle with a dainty thing like you, roughing you up burns an insatiable fire inside him. Once perfectly smooth skin now bruised, bitten, marked and covered in rope burns. But who would he be not to test your limits? Folding you in half to rut his fat tip against your sweet spot, eyes rolling back to see the stars above.. How you beg him to slow down, be more gentle but your body saying the complete opposite, cumming time and time again, thin fluid splattered over your abdomen and chest..

"Absolutely ravishin'..." Boothill groaned into your ear. Pumping his next load inside, the excess of the last trickling down the base of his cock. You can take another can't you? Don't disappoint him, with all that snark and backtalk you must be able to back it up.. Boothill pulls out your warmth, watching his seed overflow and drip down your thighs. You groan and move your head up to look at him as he unties you, exhausted by the intense session. Sweat coating your skin and marks over your shoulders. "Now.. isn't it rude not to clean up the mess you made?" Leaning down and whispering into your ear, taking his hat off and placing it on you instead. You swallow thickly and shakily sit on your knees, enamored at the size of it compared to your hand. Just like he asked you kindly clean off the excess, using your hands for the parts your mouth cannot reach. As he grows close he pulls you off and strokes himself quickly, panting and groaning under his breath. "Yea.. look up at me.. just like that sweetheart." cooing at you, with a grunt he finishes over your face. A soft smile playing on his lips.

"Ain't that a sight for sore eyes.."

Boothill picks you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, entering back into the farmhouse and kicking the door shut. You'll love your time here at his farm, he's sure you'll be back.

@nanqmies © 2024

please do not translate, steal or repost my work.

reblogs and feedback appreciated!

[gemsalive]

re: that HEFTY siffrin sweep on id5’s isat favourite blorbos poll — this might sound silly but i do actually think it’s kinda fascinating that isat, as a game so inseparably steeped in (for lack of a better way to describe it) queer fandom culture, managed to so completely sidestep the common Fandom Phenomenon that i suspect was behind the poll in the first place by creating a main character that is also overwhelmingly the fan favourite character for once.

obviously there are any number of factors we could point at to explain the extent to which siffrin nomiddlenames nolastnames manages to grab people and absolutely not let go, but personally i think one of the most interesting ones to consider is the one specific to the medium — that is, how siffrin subverts the “silent blank slate video game protagonist” archetype in such a way that happens to be primo brainrot breeding grounds.

like, when a video game dev makes a silent protagonist it’s usually a bid to maximize immersion by closing the aesthetic distance between player and character as much as possible, right? which is especially true of rpg video games — players find connection in the generic, as that is what gives you the freedom of motion to insert yourself into the story in whatever unique shape suits you best. you are your character and your character is you.

(as ever, post ran long. yall know the drill. tossin in a quick header pic before thoughts on blank slates & blorboification continue under the cut)

and then you’ve got siffrin, who is expressly pointed out to be the taciturn type; who when initially giving the player exposition about their journey so far doesn’t seem to hint at a life or history or even really any motivations outside the journey; whose every thought and action is narrated in second person so as to keep tracing and re-tracing the connection between him and you.

even their design — all darkless and shapeless, bundled up in that big cloak, as if an invitation for you to fill it in with whatever lets you relate to them most! at this point they are their own character for sure, but they also have enough very clear parallels going on with the silent protagonist archetype to feel more than accidental.

of course, as you keep playing you start to recognize that his blankness is much, much more than just a grab at immersion; his apparent lack of backstory, itself a fundamental piece of backstory. this is where he flips dramatically in the player’s perception from “generic vessel for story delivery” to “thoroughly multidimensional character trapped within endless torment nexus custom-built to target and exacerbate all his very specific worst traits rooted in very specific traumas”.

yknow, the good stuff !

but by then you have also been playing enough to be feeling the effects of the thing isat’s design does best of all. i’m talkin bout that ludonarrative lockstep baby. every piece of isat’s gameplay is designed to make you feel what siffrin is feeling — you understand by now that he is not a stand-in for you, but all the same you share in his frustration, his grief, his rare moments of joy and the subsequent heart-in-your-shoes devastation when that joy is inevitably poisoned — and through it all, the desperate grasping for anything new — all as if they were every bit your own.

so in this way the connection is maintained, even if you were someone for whom siffrin’s particular traits & struggles might not otherwise cause you relate to them at all if you had encountered them elsewhere, in a setting where you weren’t actively controlling them as a player. siffrin still gets to carry all the “just like me fr” impact of the blank slate protagonist in the tropes he embodies and in the game mechanics’ design, while totally free to evolve completely into his own character and keep you relating to closely them all the same. now toss back in the fact that said traits & struggles very much ARE of a flavour that a great many people Would Tend To Relate To and just like that you’ve got a perfect storm cookin.

too individual and compellingly written to be an empty vessel for plot delivery. too closely connected with the player’s emotional state to be a story observed impassively from the outside. he has 92 mental illnesses and for the low low price of free u can give him yours to carry too. nobody is doin it like him. congratulations on your well-deserved nose sniffrin nomiddlenames nolastnames <3

[aettuddae]

business matter — chapter 118.

↳ synopsis: two of the most important kpop companies covet a partnership with a huge global brand, only to be surprised when the deal is extended to both labels. fearing potential sabotage and cynical strategies to secure exclusivity for just one of them, both CEOs resort to desperate measures. in a bid to maintain trust and prevent betrayal before the signing, they come up with a pact: forcing a fake relationship between the leaders of their star girlgroups. if one side attempted to fail the other, they threaten to expose it all to the conservative south korea.

masterlist | prev | next

[written chapter]

karina wandered among the people trying to find her friends, she didn't know exactly where they were because the place they had positioned themselves was at the center of the dance floor where all the people were crowded together. she asked for permission and passed between strangers, but realized she was circling the place to no avail, she assumed they would have gone to sit at their table so she started moving in that direction. she proceeded to keep running groupings of the path, finally emerging from the crowd and being spit out to a clear passage on the side, left so that they people could walk through.

she examined both sides, trying to mentally locate herself in the club and guessing where her table was based on her location. she made her way to the left slowly so she could watch carefully to find her friends.

"jimin." she heard at the same time someone tapped her shoulder.

she had clearly done things wrong as she was paying for her karma. the universe kept sending her challenges as if she was odysseus himself, the only difference was that she didn't have the will nor the motivation to overcome them and just wanted to disappear before she had to solve a worse problem.

"jimin." repeated that voice that, unfortunately, she couldn't mistake for any other.

she spun on her heels, her face serious, she wouldn't even dare to give him a surprised reaction because he didn't deserve any emotion related to good things.

"do you need something, kim jongin?" her stance was rigid, facing him ready to defend herself or attack him for anything he had to say.

"to apologize." the boy had a droopy attitude, he wanted to sound honest.

"that's very empathetic of you, but i don't need your apology." she was going to keep walking, but he grabbed her shoulder again to make her look at him.

"i'm really sorry for how it all ended." he continued. "i acted like an idiot, i didn't understand you." he admitted doing his best to look like a wet dog.

"whatever you say, bye." again she was stopped by the boy as she wanted to run away. "jongin, i don't care what you have to say."

"listen, i know i was wrong, that i was selfish." he held her from both sides to keep her from trying to walk away from the conversation. "but i want to show you that i can be better."

"jongin-" she pinched the bridge of her nose as if to help her stay calm, but as the boy's words sank in she looked at him abruptly. "what do you mean by that?"

"that i'm sorry for not knowing how to act at the time, but i want to make amends." explained with tenderness in his eyes. "if you want too, i want to try again." he clarified.

karina paused for a second, completely stunned, it seemed that the music had faded and people were no longer dancing. she inspected the man's features looking for a hint of honesty in them, she wanted to decipher if he really believed in what he was saying,

because if he did then he was the most disgusting person she had ever met.

"jongin, are you an idiot?" she removed his hands from her body roughly. "no, in fact, do you think i'm an idiot?" she pressed her own chest with her index finger pointing at herself. "that you can find me by chance at a party, put on an innocent face, say three stupid things you read on the internet and get me back?"

"things aren't the way you think they are." he denied with a sad expression. "i really miss you."

"why are you doing this?"

"because-"

"did sehun leave you?"

kai was silent, paralyzed, wondering how the woman had figured that out, going over in his mind all the people who could have told her.

"see how stupid you are?" the girl reaffirmed.

"how do you know about sehun?" he asked dumbfounded.

"i saw it." she clarified, feeling a little embarrassed as she remembered her tactics.

"you saw us?" the boy was surprised, afraid of what they might have been doing when they were discovered.

"i saw your chats." she elaborated.

"you went through my phone!" now jongin was angry, it showed on his face and in his voice, he wouldn't in his most jealous moment have done that.

"i didn't check your phone, jackass, your chats were open on your computer!" she revealed, flustered at the oldest's accusations.

"how long have you known?" he cocked his head to the side, the times and jimin's actions didn't make sense no matter how hard he tried to combine them. "were you with me for these last few months even knowing?" there was some hint of hope in that question, as if it meant she could forgive him.

"i would never be consciously cuckolded, i found out when we broke up." she didn't think much about her words because of the repulsion to the idea that he would think she would let herself be played that way.

"were you at my house after we broke up?" the volumes of jongin's voice rose brutally. "are you crazy?"

"i wanted to give you back your clothes and you weren't there!" she defended herself.

"so you broke into someone else's house without permission?" he rebutted.

"hey, don't change the subject, you cheated on me!" karina reminded.

"you crashed my house!" kim was totally offended at this new information he was getting.

"you were with someone else for seventy percent of our relationship!" she was annoyed at the lack of interest the boy was showing in the subject.

"you committed a crime!"

"damn, come on, jongin, i don't think it's a crime if i have your door code and we were boyfriend and girlfriend, i need you to use your brain." yu tapped his temple lightly signaling him to think.

"don't do that!" he grabbed the girl's wrist away from her body and directed her downward, roughly.

"hey!" exclaimed jimin, it hadn't hurt, but she was shocked by the action.

she was ready to complain and now add this to her list of things to fight about, but was distracted from further yelling when someone stepped between the two of them.

"leave her alone." between kai and karina was now serim, who calmly tried to push the boy away without using much force.

"great, my favorite person." said jongin wryly.

"the appreciation is mutual." she flashed him a smile with the same energy.

"this isn't about you, so i'm going to ask you to leave." jongin tried to run her off, but serim wouldn't let her.

"i don't think you have anything to talk about." dismissed the girl. "so you'd better get on with your life, okay?"

serim brought her hand to karina's back and rested it there to guide her in the opposite direction of the man. feeling the contact, the younger one wrapped her arms around her body, clinging to her. she just wanted to feel her once again, to breathe in her scent, but if she complained she'd say it was to get jongin to stop bothering.

"listen, you." jongin addressed jang with an annoyed tone. "you have already intervened too much in my relationship, stop meddling in matters that don't concern you." he demanded with a defiant tone.

"i think you're the one who's out of line now." the newcomer contradicted. "go away."

"no, you should go." he refused to listen. "i am settling some stuff with my girl, you have no business here." he was impatient.

"you cheated on me!" exclaimed karina, tired of saying it.

"she's my girl." serim stated at the same time.

"i'm your girl?" the younger girl turned to look at her perplexed.

"shut up, this isn't the time." jang ignored her.

"but this is about me!" complained jimin.

"is it because of her that you're doing this whole circus?" jongin accused the blackhaired one. "you want to feel less guilty about falling in love with her when you were with me." he assumed.

"what are you talking about? you had a whole boyfriend behind my back!" at that point karina really thought jongin must be hallucinating.

"why can't you admit that you cheated on me?" the boy questioned.

"but you were on a break." interrupted serim, lifting her index finger in the air pointing out her fact.

"and you were cheating on me!" shouted jimin in despair.

"so did you!" replied the man. "and besides you're all over her right now in front of me!" he grabbed serim's arm jerking from it, as if trying to pull her toward him to get her away from yu's grip.

"don't touch her!" a new voice joined the argument. "can you stop? i know you're still dating sehun." it was kyungsoo, helping her friend.

"but look who it is." announced kim when he saw the boy. "did you have something to do with all this?"

"no, this is your fault and your fault alone." now the one speaking was jennie. "you have a history of being a cheater, don't play dumb." he didn't know what to say seeing his other ex-girlfriend there.

"and i just don't like you." sejeong joined all her friends who had gone to accompany serim.

"thank you." muttered jimin to the new one since she was the closest one.

"i kind of dislike you too." she informed, causing karina to nod in understanding and fall silent.

"i heard we were terrorizing kim jongin so i came." one more person appeared.

"ryujin." spoke the attacked one.

"i hate you." she made clear. "go away and leave my friend alone for once." she proposed. "if you are not together today, it's because you handled a difficult situation selfishly, and also cheated on her." she reminisced. "you don't want to put yourself in the victim's place, this is your fault."

"leave her alone already." jennie took the lead again. "weren't you gay?"

"i'm bisexual." he put a hand to his chest in offense.

"stop hurting karina." the other man interfered. "and please don't start hurting sehun." he advised.

"it's over between us, jongin, it's over." finished karina.

the boy paused to look at them all with annoyance, but quickly realized that this was a war he would not win. he lowered his head in frustration and left without another word.

"thanks guys." expressed serim to everyone once he was away.

"thanks for that, i thought you guys hated me." said karina.

"we don't like you, but we like jongin less." expressed ryujin.

"ryujin." her best friend gave her a puzzled look.

"i'm just being everyone's voice." proclaimed the named one exalted.

"i can't believe i was with that guy for so long." the girl was still attached to serim's body as the older one, focused on the discussion, hardly noticed that karina was hugging her and hadn't pushed her away, so she took advantage of the closeness to rest her head on her shoulder seeking comfort. "it's the worst thing in the world."

"sure, yes, i agree." serim raised her hands in the air to indicate that she wasn't reciprocating her so she should also pull away.

"let her go." sejeong tapped yu on the shoulder to make her understand that she was talking to her. "let her go." she said again, now tugging on her waist.

"stop it, jimin." now commanded her best friend, to whom she did listen. "you better go do that outside." she ran to the side, clearing the way for them to pass.

"what?" serim was astonished.

"jimin needs calm, go with her, you were the one who was there for her all through the jongin situation anyway." she suggested, leading them outside.

"what about you?" she looked at shin confused.

"i can't, i have a cold." she pretended to cough.

led by a force by the name of ryujin, karina and serim ended up alone in the club's courtyard where people went to smoke.

"what are you doing?" jang's friends questioned her.

"you don't understand." she hedged upset. "i have a manhwa to update."

outside, jimin and serim stood in silence, separated by a significant distance from each other. neither could find anything that wasn't awkward to say, and maybe serim didn't even want to, this one pulled out the box of cigarettes she had in her pocket and lit one, starting to smoke it.

"namu." called the younger one.

"don't call me that." she reminded her.

"semmie?" she tested.

"only my friends call me semmie." she was right, she had never earned the place of a friend.

"serim."

"that's my name." the addressed stated sarcastically.

"i didn't know you'd be here tonight." she clarified. "sorry if you came to distract yourself and i showed up."

"that's okay, i didn't think you came on purpose." they both nodded, closing the subject.

"and thanks for helping me with jongin." she added.

"it's no problem." jang brushed off. "you know i can't stand him." she laughed softly.

"thank you anyway." she restated. "and about that thing about me being your girl..." mentioned with a playful tone.

"i just wanted to make him mad." she cut her off quickly. "don't get excited."

"i already got excited, now don't try to stop me." karina joked. "do you usually refer to a lot of strangers as 'your girl' or is it just me?"

"what are you talking about?" serim raised an eyebrow, lost.

"it's good to see you again, jang serim-ssi." she gave a barely noticeable bow with her body.

"ah, you're still at it?" took a puff on her cigarette. "i remember telling you not to bother me, though."

"one thing you should know about me is that i'm very stubborn." jimin had switched to using a flirtatious tone. "and i tend to get my way." she tilted her head to the side, a leaned smile painted on her lips.

"why do i get the feeling i already knew that?" she corresponded the game.

"how strange." the youngest feigned disinterest. "we must be connected."

"or you look a little crazy." she held up her hand, demonstrating with it the word little.

karina let her mouth open indignantly at the response, then let out an almost soundless laugh and averted her gaze to the front. "can i confess something to you?"

"as yu jimin-ssi or as the girl who used to live in my apartment?" she flicked the cigarette butt she had left.

"from jimin to namu." she replied, serim motioned with her head for her to continue talking. "i almost kissed a girl today." she suddenly shared.

serim kept silent, she furrowed her eyebrows, easy to tell she was thinking about how she should react to that confession, she brought her tongue to the side and pressed it against the inside of her cheek, stifling the opinions that formed in her brain that impulsively attempted to come out. she swallowed saliva, gave a long sigh, it was requiring all of her to keep calm.

"i don't want to listen to this." she decided, turning around to go back inside with her friends.

"namu." jimin managed to catch her jacket and hold her in place. "nothing happened with her." she made clear.

"then why are you telling me?" the woman was starting to get agitated, not being able to hide that it hurt.

"nothing happened because of you." she explained, moving her grip up to her chest where with each hand she grabbed both sides of the zipper of the jacket serim was wearing.

"i don't know what you mean." she felt her eyes getting wet. "if you're telling me this to hurt me..."

"serim, i don't want to hurt you anymore." she stated. "i don't want to cause you or me any more pain." assured, feeling her emotions welling up. "i'm telling you this since i didn't want to kiss her because i couldn't stop thinking about you, so you can see that i don't want to and can't be with anyone but you." the girl confessed. "namu." now she held her face gently. "my namu." she looked into those eyes she loved so much, which now looked sad, on the verge of breaking. "i know that i should have treated you better, do you think we can start again?"

serim wondered if jimin might be lying.

she had hidden things and avoided her feelings, but would she lie to her? after neglecting her heart, would she lie to do it again? serim wanted to give herself to karina, there wasn't a single fiber of her body that didn't want to belong to her, or that didn't already claim to be hers,

but you are what you did, and what did her actions make of jimin? if she was a coward, it was nothing that couldn't be solved with a spontaneous burst of courage. was that what was going on? was this question her finally plucking up courage, was she finally fighting for her like she wanted her to?

and if so, should serim trust her again?

"i've had too much of you already." she whispered, almost inaudibly. "it scares me that you're not being honest and that you will ruin me again." she completed. "i don't know if you deserve another chance." she sentenced and then walked back inside, losing herself in the crowd the further she went.

(!)

— taglist [CLOSED]: @yoontoonwhs @cwpiqwon @aliceiwk @xen248 @gtfoiydlyj @rinapomu @aeriuchinarga @multiliker @somedaydream @impossiblesharkcashrebel @yjiminswallet @nwjnsloona @yerimbrit @73vyn @dni-unavailable @yizhuobberi @sewiouslyz @yeetaberry127 @masuowo @yallatalla @aerithykly @chaenniefirst @minfolio @starrynini05 @hotluvlet @wmnrhot @mineige @lisaswifey @brocoliisscared @fae-the-wanderer

[hellspawnmotel]

where do you see the romantic element of kris and noelle going in the rest of the snowgrave route? do you think it'll just be dropped or do you think the romance is going to be pushed further?

oh gosh, I try to hold off on speculating too much about where the story is going, so I haven't given those specifics much thought. honestly I have absolutely no clue where snowgrave route is going to go in any respect, but if I had to guess..... I'd say that either it will be pushed further, but little by little and not right away, or player-kris will shift to being creepy in other ways, possibly towards different people. it brings into question what the actual motivation is for how the commands behave in that timeline- is it a fixation on noelle in particular, or is it a violent, desperate bid to break the narrative that she happened to get caught up in? or maybe it began as the latter, but now that noelle's been pulled from her intended path she'll become a focal point for weirdness. I don't think we'll really be able to tell until the story gets a little further in.

me personally, I HOPE the creepy romantic vibe isn't totally dropped, I've put so much thought into it now that would be pretty disappointing, haha. it is still just an interpretation though, based on pretty subtle imagery and what I see as hints, so it could continue to be entirely metatextual or just something inconsequential that I happened to latch onto and isn't really brought up again. but even if so I am completely sure I'll find a way to have fun thinking about it.

[indigo-scarf]

Draco DID want to be a Death Eater (and here’s why)

If I had a Sickle for every time I’ve read that Draco became a Death Eater against his will, forced by either his father or Voldemort, I’d be as rich as the Malfoys. However, that is not true in canon, and Draco is much more compelling and tragic for it.

It’s explicitly shown in HBP that Draco was enthusiastic about serving Voldemort in the beginning. Bellatrix, who’s ever eager to call out any unfaithfulness to Voldemort, defends Draco:

“And I will say this for Draco: he isn’t shrinking away from his duty, he seems glad of a chance to prove himself, excited at the prospect —” (HBP2)

Draco himself gloats about it:

“Well, you never know,” said Malfoy with the ghost of a smirk. “I might have … er … moved on to bigger and better things.” [...] “When the Dark Lord takes over, is he going to care how many O.W.L.s or N.E.W.T.s anyone's got? Of course he isn't. It'll be all about the kind of service he received, the level of devotion he was shown.” [...] Crabbe and Goyle were both sitting with their mouths open like gargoyles. Pansy was gazing down at Malfoy as though she had never seen anything so awe-inspiring. “I can see Hogwarts,” said Malfoy, clearly relishing the effect he had created as he pointed out of the blackened window. (HBP7)

And he’s preoccupied with the “glory” he thinks he’ll get by completing his mission:

“I know what you're up to! You want to steal my glory!” (Draco to Snape, HBP15)

“[Snape]'s been offering me plenty of help — wanting all the glory for himself — wanting a bit of the action — [...] But I haven't told him what I've been doing in the Room of Requirement, he's going to wake up tomorrow and it'll all be over and he won't be the Dark Lord's favourite any more, he'll be nothing compared to me, nothing!” (HBP29)

Of course there are threats and fear involved, as well, since this is Voldemort we’re talking about, but it’s both the carrot and the stick. When Draco starts to think he might fail, he focusses on the threats, hence:

“No one can help me,” said Malfoy. His whole body was shaking. “I can't do it... I can't... It won't work… and unless I do it soon... he says he'll kill me…” (HBP24)

Nonetheless, as per the previous quotes, he oscillates between being terrified of failure and chasing the rewards of success up until the very end, in the Astronomy Tower.

As I've argued extensively in my Hand of Glory meta, I see Draco’s becoming a Death Eather as an attempt to both prove himself to his father and to prove himself better than his father.

It’s not that Draco has lost love or respect for Lucius, but he still wants to take the opportunity to make his father finally see his value by out-doing him. If Lucius’s DoM blunder triggered the Malfoys’ fall from grace, Draco’s success will earn them even more honour than they had before.

At the same time, though, Draco’s actions are not truly emancipatory because his father remains the point of reference that determines his worth.

Ultimately, Draco’s motive for taking the Mark is less about belief in the cause, and more about his daddy issues paradox: wanting to prove himself a grown up man, but doing so in a desperate, rash bid for the paternal validation he so sorely lacks.

Draco starts HBP insisting that he’s “...not a child, in case you haven't noticed, Mother”, and “perfectly capable of doing [his] shopping alone” (HBP6), but by the end of the book he’s feeling quite incapable of doing things alone, and still struggling with his need for approval from a father figure.

To me, this is much more interesting than simple external coercion. Draco’s own lack of independent self-worth is what leads him to destroy his life, and what renders him unable to be dissuaded from it. He dismisses anyone who tries to warn or help him, because he assumes they must share his own repressed lack of belief in himself, and marches solitary and obstinate towards his own ruin.

[docgold13]

Introduction

There are many, many super villains in the realms of fiction, comic books, cartoons and movies.  When encountering such villains, these costumed cads and dangerous dastards, it is of the utmost importance that one know the precise type of malefactor is at hand.  While no two villains are exactly alike, as a whole these scoundrels can be roughly categorized into a systemic taxonomy; a classification based upon the qualities of threat, capability and ambition.

This taxonomy is sequential in respect to the level of danger, commitment and aspiration.  It begins at a first rung with the lowly Goons, moving quickly to the dangerous Enforcers, then the mercurial Rogues, followed by the calculating Lieutenants and finally the Nemeses… the most dangerous villains of them all.  

Goons

First let us look at the Goons.  These are the minions, the henchmen and stooges who use their powers to do the bidding of a more sinister and scheming master. 

Goons can be quite formidable, possessing a great deal of raw strength and power.�� Yet their lack of foresight, aspiration and direction leave them in the position of playing the role of pawns.  

Whether it be the result of laziness, naïveté, psychological difficulty or some manner of deficiency, Goons are easily manipulated.  They are frequently duped or cajoled into doing the bidding of others.  Sometimes they will perceive themselves as being equals with those they serve.  In truth, however, these misguided flunkies are almost always viewed as disposable... as mere vassals who will be sacrificed or simply discarded on a whim.  

Criminal organizations will frequently have numerous henchmen who are nameless and interchangeable.  What distinguishes a super villain Goon from the more garden variety lackey is their physical power and capacity for destruction.  They possess all the raw ability to be a more substantial menace but none of the imagination, presentation or drive. They simply lack the je ne sais quoi needed to be a more fully actualized embodiment of super villainy. 

And yet this does not make the Goon any less dangerous.   Indeed the Goon’s fragile ego coupled with their destructive capability can lead to threats on par with a natural disaster.  

Conversely, the Goon can sometimes be the most likely type of super villain to be turned, moved toward the path of heroism.  Most Goons just want to be seen and valued, to garner a place where they feel they belong.  More sophisticated villains will take advantage of this unmet need, offering the Goon a sense of purpose.   If a hero can convince a Goon that they are being manipulated and offer a more authentic sense of validation, the goon may very well switch sides and become heroic.  

For the most part, however, Goons are rather satisfied with their lot.  They are often simple souls with simple needs.  Being a Goon affords a sense of direction and license to be destructive bullies.  

The Enforcers

When the raw power of a super villain Goon is coupled with a heightened degree of shrewdness, confidence, avarice and capability, the end product is often The Enforcer. 

These are the mercenaries, assassins and bounty hunters… the guns-for-hire who are brought in for a specific task (commonly the elimination of a hero).  These villains are not interested in taking over the world, garnering power and influence, they just want to get paid.

Said payment is most often money... but prestige, thrills and a bolstering of one’s ego are also a commonly accepted currency.  Sometimes Enforcers will be pitted against a specific hero and the simple opportunity to best that hero, to show themselves as the superior entity, is motivation enough to take on the job.  They can be like big game hunters, in desperate search of a new and bigger trophy to add to their ever-growing collection.

Some enforcers may be motivated by mere boredom.  They tend to be thrill-seekers and super villainy is an irresistible rollercoaster that acts to quell the tedium.  It is not uncommon for there to be a degree of sadism to the enforcer... even psychopathy.  Their passion is doling out pain and destruction; they revel in being feared.  They are dangerous and unpredictable and will endeavor to succeed at any and all costs.  They are not to be taken lightly.  

It is not unheard of for Enforcers to have underlings of their own, aides or minions who will assist in their schemes.  Or they may work in conjunction with Goons.  Yet their values are strictly mercenary.  Their morals and philosophy are entirely for hire.  Some Enforcers may adhere to their own, personalized code of conduct... yet it is a strictly idiosyncratic (and often malleable) matter. 

Phrased simply, they are not individuals to be trusted; an Enforcer will turn on their employer the moment that it better suits their interests. Beware, my friends, Enforcers are danger incarnate...

Rogues

Rogues are outsiders, individuals who just do not fit in with the common and traditional conventionalities of a given society.  They are misfits, freaks, square pegs in a world of round holes.  Yet they also have power; they are capable, smart, ruthless and shrewd.  They do not fit in, but they do not need to; they can force their worlds to accommodate to them.  

Rogues are outlaws.  They take what they want when they want it.  Rarely is there an overarching agenda.  Rogues do not crave power, they do not want to rule the world.  They just enjoy a good time, desire the finer things and will take all that they feel they are owed. 

Many factors can go into the making of a Rogue.  Circumstances of their upbringing, their appearance, deprivations of different kinds, accidents… all maters that have put the Rogue in a place of alienation from society writ large.  In some regards they are victims, perhaps not always innocent victims, but victims nonetheless… and victims with agency.  For they have power and the capability to extract whatever vengeance or retribution they feel they deserve.

Not all Rogues are victims of misfortune.  Some merely possess a sense of entitlement and a desire for adventure.  Morality, for better or worse, is just not a central feature in the make up of the Rouge.  They see the world around them as a harsh and unforgiving realm and they will take what they want, do as they please, simply because they can.  They are not motivated by hate, avarice nor a diminished sense of self esteem.  They are supremely independent and the needs, feelings and wellbeing of others are not matters of any great concern.  

The super villain Rogue has much in common with the archetype of the Trickster from myths and fable.  Tricksters are breakers of boundaries who enjoy disrupting societal principles and norms.  These are often supernatural beings whose playful antics act to mock authority and question assumption.  Rogues are similar.  They too seek to disrupt authority, upset balance and turn social decorum unto its head.

Whereas many Tricksters of lore aim to teach lessons regarding the hubris of mankind, Rogues tend to be much more self-serving in their conduct.  Rogues are not agents of chaos, they just want to express their freedom and garner wealth and renown.

While Rogues often prefer to work on their own, they are by no means entirely above joining forces with other villains in working toward a mutually desired goal.  Although it is rare, a Rogue may even allow themselves to be employed by a Nemesis, a more diabolical cad whose overarching desires very much do not align with their own.  In these situations, the Rogue’s hand is either forced or they are simply biding their time for the ideal opportunity to engaged a well-planned and self-serving betrayal.  

It is the Rogue’s refusal to adhere to societal principles and the law that often brings them into conflict with heroes.  And the sympathetic qualities of the Rogue can sometimes cause a hero to question their own beliefs and moral alignment.  The Rogue represents a defiance toward the status quo of a given society... that existing state of affairs that maintains social and financial stratification.  The status quo is never an entirely fair system, it will always benefit some at the expense of others,...and it can be tempting to forcefully push back against the inequities that exist therein.  Indeed there have been many a hero who has fallen under the sway of a charismatic Rogue when made to see said inequities.

 And yet Rogues tend to be quite selfish.  They have been wronged and use it as an excuse to do whatever they please and put their own needs above all others.  In so doing they may end up hurting others in the same fashion they themselves had been hurt.  These Rogue could be heroes, yet frequently lack the sense of selflessness that truly makes a hero heroic.

Under the right circumstances, however, the Rogue can find themselves in the role of the antihero... acting as a protagonist despite lacking the traditional qualities most often associated with heroism.  This is most often the case when the Rogue’s goals put them into opposition with another villain, particularly a villain much more vile than themselves.

Although some Rogues may fit into the role of an antihero, it does not necessarily make them any less dangerous.  The primary characteristic of a Rogue is a rejection of the normative confines of a society.  And this can include the confines of morality.  The Rogue will resort to murder and mayhem if they deem it a necessity.  So beware, my friends, beware.      

The Lieutenants

In some regards, Lieutenants are the villainous analog to the hero’s sidekick.  They are the primary right-hand operatives of the arch villain… an amalgamation of a partner, field commander, conciliary and moll.  They are neither a Nemesis nor a Goon, but something in between.  

Quite often the Lieutenant will be a good deal more competent, pragmatic and even more intelligent compared to the villain they serve.  They could easily be a leader in their own right, yet lack the megalomania that is at the heart of a true Nemesis.  What these lieutenants do possess, however, is a deeply seated need to belong... to have a parental-like figure that offers direction and purpose.   Some even love the villains they serve and remain at their side for this reason alone.  

Lieutenants crave power and respect, they feel a poignant need for validation and this will often lead them to battle against the heroes with vigorous intensity.  They can be the most dangerous kind of villain of them all in that they are highly motivated and intelligent as well as desperate to succeed; almost like a child who will do anything to win the approval of a parent.  

The neurotic nature of the Lieutenant’s motivation frequently leaves them a good deal less sadistic and malevolent compared to the Nemeses they serve.  They are not bloodthirsty or callous; many may even have care for the innocent lives that a dastardly plot might harm.  And yet the need for approval acts to outweigh any moral qualms they may possess. That being said, it is not entirely unheard of that a Lieutenant will turn on their leader if the destructive stakes become far too high.  

Somewhat akin to the Goon (or even the Rogue), the Lieutenant possesses the potential to turn to the side of good, to be redeemed and become something of a hero.  The Lieutenant is highly capable and shrewd, but not above manipulation.  Often times they will find themselves in the service of a master who does not have their best interests in mind. 

Discovering that they are not as valued by their leader as they may have thought can help the Lieutenant rediscover their sense of honor... a clearer picture of right and wrong.  Herein there becomes an increased likelihood that the Lieutenant will turn and aide the heroes... possibly even become a hero themselves.  

Of course this is not to say that every Lieutenant possesses a staunch code of honor or secret heart of gold.  Some are just as rotten and despicable as the cads they serve.  They have pled fidelity to their masters and many see the orders they have been issued as on par with a godly and righteous decree.

At the same time that many Lieutenants are unquestioningly loyal, others can be duplicitous.  Again, it is not uncommon that a Lieutenant will actually be more competent compared to those they serve.  And some possess the ambition to usurp their masters, concocting fiendish schemes to depose their leader, take control and ostensively matriculate to the position of the Nemesis.

This particular dynamic is quite often at play with the ‘secret lieutenant.’  This is something of a subcategory reserved for those second-in-commands who are initially believed to be the primary villain… only for it to be later revealed that there is an entity even more diabolical above them.  

Nemeses often cherish their anonymity, preferring to remain a more secretive threat from behind the proverbial curtain.  To this extent they need a Lieutenant to stand in as their vassal.  It is not uncommon for these proxies to be misidentified as the primary Nemesis.  And more often than not, these secret Lieutenants become accustomed to the power they wield... harboring resentment toward the shadowy overlords that they secretly serve.  Sometimes they will take action to achieve their ambitions… yet it rarely works in their favor and a Lieutenant’s efforts to usurp their masters will frequently have deadly consequences.  

There are reasons after all, that Lieutenants and Lieutenants and Nemeses are Nemeses.  The qualities that make for a true Nemesis are as insidious as they are dangerous.  They are not so easily overtaken nor replaced.

Nemeses

This brings us to the are the baddest of the bad… the arch foes, the megalomaniacal would-be conquerers whose devilish schemes put us all in grave peril.  The pinnacle of villainy; the foil to all things good, selfless, noble and heroic.  The Nemesis!

The primary feature to the Nemesis is their motivation.  They have a keen notion of how things should be and will stop at nothing toward imposing their will so to bring their goals to fruition.  Such goals may be power, conquest, revenge or the acquisition of fabulous wealth (or all of the above).  Regardless, the Nemesis believes that fulfilling this goal is a righteous purpose, that it is a destiny ordained unto them by some manner of a divine source.  

Most Nemeses do not see themselves as evil.  They are the heroes of their own stories and believe themselves to be in the right.  Furthermore, any who oppose them represent an effrontery that need be eliminated with extreme prejudice.  Theirs is a glorious purpose and nothing nor no one may be allowed to obstruct their destiny.  

With such lofty ambitions, it is frequently necessary for these Nemeses to create elaborate organizations… secret and sinister syndicates composed of various operatives, agents, minions and flunkies.  The Nemesis can be extremely charismatic ideologues and they usually have little difficulty in recruiting scores of cronies and henchmen willing to lay down their lives in the service of a master.  Whist some Nemeses have to resort to paying their underlings or at least putting forth the promise that the toiling will result in power and riches, most are simply able to amass a loyal following through their magnetic charm alone.

The true qualities of the Nemesis often comes into greater focus in juxtaposition to their arch enemy.  The primary foe of the Nemesis acts to define them, highlighting their traits in contrast to their opposite.  The more good and pure the hero the more twisted and evil their nemesis. One acts to complete the other like two sides of a scale equally balanced.

Indeed it is not unusual for a Nemesis to become obsessed with their arch foe... so much so that many Nemeses may even hesitate at the opportunity to finally vanquish said foe.  They can come to feel actualized by the conflict and may fear a loss of identity were their enemy to be truly eliminated. 

Many heroes will have multiple arch enemies, but Nemeses themselves are more exclusive, monogamous in who they see as their principle foe.  Furthermore, they can be quite jealous when it comes to the attention of their arch enemies.  So much so that it is not unheard of for a Nemesis to lend a hand to their foe in doing away with a third party interloper.     

Not every Nemesis is cut from the same cloth.  Some can be mere mustache-twirlers… finks who commit evil deeds for the mere sake of it.  The more memorable and fully actualized Nemesis, however, is complex and nuanced.  There is an element of the inscrutable that can provoke fascination.  They are like elaborately colored serpents who elicit equal measures of fear and curiosity.  

Despite their despicable acts, the Nemesis can frequently be found to be a rather sympathetic figure.   Similar to the Rogue, the Nemesis is rejecting of the societal status quo.  They believe they know better, that imposing their will can bring about much needed change.  Considering the various inequities and injustices entailed in any society, the promise of change can be very alluring.  Tearing something down is always easier than creating something new; and the Nemesis excels at the former whilst offering mere promises of the latter. 

Add to this the flamboyant charm and sleek aesthetics of so many super villains and it can all come across as quite alluring.  And this attraction can be greatly magnified in those feeling even the least bit alienated by the confines and restrictions of a societal equilibrium.

Most all Nemeses are idealists.  Their ideals are twisted and egocentric, but they are idealists nonetheless.  In their heart of hearts, these cads honestly believe that the imposition of their self-serving values will bring about their notion of a better world.  Even the ones who claim to be nihilists, who say they just want to see the world burn, harbor the desire to harness power and refashion it all in the cast of their megalomania.

The Nemesis is an enjoyable character only to the extent that they do not win, that their schemes remain unfulfilled.  And if said plot is at least partially accomplished, the fun part is their histrionic efforts to put down resistance and maintain their tenuous grip on power.  

Conversely, Nemeses who too closely parrot real life horrors become unenjoyable entities for the audience.  There are plenty of villains who are racists, who commit sexual assault and/or who adhere to repugnant philosophies.  These baddies do not fully qualify as super villains.  They are just regular villains.  Super villains, like superheroes, are figures of fantasy... they are meant to be fun.  A true super villain, a real nemesis, may toe the line of real-life horror but should not overstep it.  

Not all Nemeses pose the same level of peril.  The Nemesis covets a world bent to their whim, yet not all possess the faculties needed to constitute a true threat.  Many nemeses are capable, shrewd and cunning; whilst others can be plagued by hubris, myopathy and just plain incompetence.  And others still can demonstrate great prowess in one instance and then great blundering in the next.  The same passion and unwavering drive that fuels the Nemesis can also lead them to make costly, foolhardy decisions.  Nevertheless, a buffoonish villain can be just as captivating and fun as one who is sophisticated and poised.  

Of course any summation of the Nemesis, or super villains in general, would be incomplete without addressing the matter of how frequently villainous characters have been used in stories as thinly veiled stand-ins for the queer community.  

This is done through a kind of coding… subtle and not-so-subtle hints that the villain is something other than heterosexual.  Male villains are often presented as effeminate or flamboyant, female villains as masculine and butch.  This is meant to have the effect of making the Nemesis appear more deviant and dangerous.  As well as make their ultimate defeat by the hero somehow more satisfying, reinforcing the erroneous notion that being queer is in some way morally wrong.  

This queer-coding of the villain is not always consciously intended to be homophobic/heterosexist, but it often has that effect; and perpetuates harmful stereotypes about the LGBTQ+ community that can lead to real-world discrimination and violence.

There can be a strange and entirely artificial conversion of machiavellian manipulation and the disrupting of traditional notions of gender.  This is the idea that those who are transgender, women who act masculine or men who act feminine, are somehow engaging in a sinister chicanery.  That they are temping and coercing the innocent and vulnerable into embracing deviancy.      

This is not the only way in which the Nemesis has been used as a means to present social-political agendas.  Near countless forms of bigotry and prejudice have been repackaged in the form of a sinister Nemesis.  The ‘yellow peril’ style villain depict people of Asian descent as cold, calculating and soulless; whereas the savage ‘witchdoctor warlord’ presents Black and Brown people as primitive, superstitious and godless; and the hook-nosed ‘miserly masterminds’ puts forward Jewish people as conniving, greedy and unscrupulous.      

Ironically, as time has gone by, this politicizing of the villain has only acted to make the Nemesis even more intriguing and appealing.  In that the Nemesis embodies all that is debaucherous, forbidden and deviant, the hero becomes more and more forced into role of the foil.  The hero must be pious, chased and entirely pure of heart.  They become flawless and such perfection in the realm of fantasy and wish-fulfillment is rather boring.  As the hero becomes more two-dimensional and un-relatable so too is their arch Nemesis made more alluring and empathetic.  

Indeed this has led to heroes gradually become more like villains in an effort to keep them interesting.  The sterling white hat of the traditional hero has been traded in for something a slightly grittier shade of gray.  Heroes have become more grim and steely, brooding neurotics fueled by past trauma.  This may seem like standard fare in the here and now, but it is a base dynamic heavily borrowed from the villainous Nemesis.  ...imitation, as they say, is the most since form of flattery.  

Thus concludes our brief summation of villainous taxonomy.   Does every super villain fit perfectly into one of these five categories?  Likely not… but as close a fit as necessary.  And certainly there can be movement between the levels: Goons who matriculate to Enforcers, Rouges who go on to become Nemeses.  By and large, however, these are fixed positions and most all super villains can be seen as occupying one of these taxonomical genres.     

[bird-inacage]

Love Sea Episode 9: Lost at Sea before the Finale

Sigh. I had high hopes for this episode, which reached it's apex in the main conflict with Rak's dad (our honorary big bad). But yet again it's at a crucial juncture in the story, where writing and execution have fallen short when it really mattered.

Despite building tension for the past few weeks in service of this moment, it's swiftly deflated with little fuss. I thought the contract-tearing scene would provide a riveting layer of complexity for our characters to navigate. But it's barely a hiccup. The entire pay off we've been hurtling towards just unceremoniously fizzles out.

Here are my observations as to why this episode missed the mark (some of which I hope to dig into when I do a full review of the series).

The 'saviour' plot device. Where a character repeatedly saves the day in service of other characters (regardless of their credentials to do so). This is the role they've boxed Mut in. He swoops in - solves, fixes, pursues, soothes. He's faultless. He's unwavering. He's Rak's hero in shining armour. This isn't fundamentally bad except his capacity is reduced mainly to just that, and the cost is little to no development of his own. I take enormous issue with this because I dearly love Mut. He has great scope for a far more compelling trajectory. We had wonderful insights into his outlook on life in the earlier episodes, which have since taken a noticeable backseat. We are yet to see significant exploration of Mut's struggles, flaws or weaknesses. There appears to be some focus on this in episode 10, but why so little so late?

The women are rendered superfluous. Which isn't helped when we already have a lacklustre GL portrayal. As things go awry - Kwan, Vi and Mook are varying degrees of 'just there'. I would have loved to see the plot utilise the women who know Rak best, to contribute towards bringing Jak down. But the show's priority to aid Mut's heroic efforts, means the women are left with very little to do.

Mut VS Jak. If you compare the two men, Jak is taller and in fairly good shape. Physically, you'd expect more resistance in a fight. When Jak goes down, he barely tries to get up (even when Mut's back is turned). Thus, the outcome of the fight feels unearned, especially if we are to believe this man has violent tendencies that have traumatised his children. (He may not be murderously insane, but still volatile enough to maim his own son). By being so easily overpowered, the takeaway ends up being: 'oh, we needn't have worried'. And this exchange didn't have to be strictly physical either, it could have been psychological. Jak could have taunted Mut like he did in the café, and tried to chip at his resolve. Alternatively, if Rak were the one to overcome his father (in a bid to save Mut), it would show that Rak's love can power through his fear, and he'd gain that lesson through his own agency rather than Mut telling him he should no longer be afraid. (Another symptom of this series is subjugating Rak to a huge degree of passivity).

I'm not sold on Jak's character motivations, based on what we've seen. He's not quite smart or menacing enough to be a calculated sociopath, and he's a shade too conniving for an apathetic loser. If he's as lazy as we've been told, why would he go this far to secure Prin's money, when he's already syphoning finances from Rak and his mother? Couldn't he just sit back and continue to leech with no effort? If his desperation were a result of poor spending, it would at least ground his motive. Or if he's fuelled by the thrill of tormenting his family, we'd need to see mental depravity. Instead, much of Jak's actions feel - dare I say - 'because plot'? (Make your villains more formidable and their eventual downfall will pack more punch).

The few too many plot conveniences. The sillier one being how on earth Rak left the house without anyone noticing? The enormous glass staircase which sits front and centre in an open plan property makes it near impossible to go undetected. Unless he parkoured from his bedroom?

I'm gutted because the show veers towards the more questionable choices at their disposal. The set ups are there. The ideas are there. The parameters are there. It's what they decide to do with them that sadly misfires. This has caused my investment in the story to plummet towards the latter half.

I continue to watch for Fortpeat, and I feel for them because they've worked so hard. There's some lovely acting sprinkled throughout this episode but at this late stage in the series, the plot should be driving things home. Whereas the metaphorical tide keeps moving those goal posts in and out of sight. I hope they can at least round things off on a high note next week.

[gorogues]

Spoilers for Suicide Squad: Kill Arkham Asylum #1!

You can see some preview pages here.

Digger actually doesn't appear much in the issue -- these two pages, plus the one-panel cameo from the preview are the extent of it -- but he still manages to be memorable. The issue mostly sets up the backstory and premise of the new video game, establishing very clearly how cruel Arkham Asylum is and the cold arrogance of Amanda Waller, along with the desperation of the inmates. It's not at all surprising that they'd be willing to do her bidding to get out of that place, even at the potential cost of their own lives. Presumably the worldwide chaos mentioned at the end is part of the game, the reason why the Squad is sent to kill the Justice League. (I haven't played it.)

So there's not a whole lot to talk about in terms of Digger here, but he'll probably get more attention in future issues as the Squad moves into action. This one was more about set-up. I thought it was pretty good at what it intended to do, as it tells us a lot about the situation the inmates find themselves in and thus ultimately about their motivations. Plus, they're not wrong about Digger just being a garden-variety asshole! It's good that he's not being lumped in with the psychos, he's just a big jerk.

[anneapocalypse]

Ostagar was planned.

The thing is, it had to be.

Note: I am saying all this as someone who likes Loghain a lot as a character. I find him really interesting and a lot of his motivations compelling, even if I do not agree with or defend all of his actions. He’s one of my favorite Dragon Age antagonists, and I see him as someone who truly does see himself as the hero. So this is all coming from a place, not of wanting to condemn Loghain, but of wanting to understand him.

Loghain, understandably, never really comes out and says this, even when he’s acknowledging what he did; his statements about “a fool’s death and a hard choice” leave open the possibility that the retreat was a decision made in the moment. But when we look at the circumstances beyond Ostagar, there’s just no way that could be true.

Here’s why I think so, and why I don't think it actually changes that much about Loghain's motives.

Alistair and the Tower of Ishal

I'll start with the circumstantial, and therefore weakeast, pieces of evidence.

First: Loghain objects to the plan of sending two Grey Wardens to the Tower of Ishal to light the beacon.

It is genuinely sort of a strange decision. One would assume you’d want the darkspawn fighters on the ground fighting darkspawn, not standing in a tower holding a torch. It has been theorized that Cailan makes this choice deliberately because he knows Alistair is his half-brother, and means to protect him as the heir to the throne should he fall in battle. (It would maybe have been good if he had discussed this with Alistair first—but that is neither here nor there.) I think it’s a plausible theory but I’m not here to argue for or against it today.

Loghain does not object to this plan on the grounds that it’s a poor use of the Grey Wardens’ skills, however; on the contrary, he argues, “You rely on these Grey Wardens too much, Cailan. Is that truly wise?”

His distrust of the Wardens generally is well-documented, so by itself, this statement could be entirely sincere. But in hindsight, it’s hard not to see this as possibly Loghain wanting all the Wardens together on the battlefield—where they can fall together.

Furthermore, it is explicitly stated that it was Loghain’s soldiers in charge of securing the tower. Loghain did not know at the time that it would be Grey Wardens lighting the beacon, but his dialogue with Cailan makes it clear that their general plans for the battle were already in place, and the beacon was a vital part of that plan. The beacon going unlit, or being delayed, would give him an excuse for withdrawing his troops from the battle. I don’t think it’s an accident that the lower levels of the tower are not properly secured, or that no one notices until the battle is already underway.

The evidence surrounding the Tower of Ishal is circumstantial. But there are other events taking place during and after Ostagar that suggest Loghain had a plan before the battle.

Jowan and Redcliffe

The Warden and Alistair wake up in Flemeth’s hut following the failed battle; we don’t know how long the Warden was out, but it doesn’t seem to have been that long. From here, they can proceed to Lothering and then pretty much immediately to Redcliffe, where they find the village has been under seige by undead, for days already. So the timeline looks something like this:

During the Prologue:

Jowan escapes from the Circle at Lake Calenhad.

Sometime between the Prologue and the Warden’s arrival at Redcliffe:

Templars hunt down and apprehend Jowan.

Loghain’s men intercept the templars and offer to fix things for Jowan if he does the Teyrn’s bidding: infiltrate Redcliffe Castle and poison the arl.

Jowan is hired by Isolde to tutor Connor.

Jowan poisons Arl Eamon, who falls ill.

Connor, desperate to save his father, accepts a deal from a desire demon and becomes possessed.

Most of the servants in the castle are killed, becoming walking corpses which themselves attack others.

The undead then begin attacking the village nightly.

Bann Teagan arrives to find the village in chaos, and tries to help the people defend themselves until he can get inside the castle.

The Warden arrives in Redcliffe.

That’s a lot to happen in the brief window between Ostagar and how soon the Warden can leave Lothering. Teagan is also seen in Denerim in the cutscene immediately following following Ostagar, so it’s unclear when, precisely, he arrives at Redcliffe, but it’s likely after that. This is also a video game, so we probably shouldn’t take travel times too seriously. Nevertheless, it’s already a lot to happen in a very short period of time, even more so if we cut the time between Prologue and Ostagar out of the picture.

Furthermore, I think Loghain has to know about Connor, to deliberately choose an apostate mage as his infiltrator. This does not suggest a last-minute panic move, but a man who has spent time gathering intelligence on the man most likely to oppose him.

Uldred and the Circle

Uldred and Loghain have a deal.

We don't see it first hand, but we learn that in a meeting back at the Circle Tower after Ostagar, Uldred tells the other mages that if the Circle supports Loghain, he will ensure that they are given greater freedom. Wynne, however, shoots this down, calling Loghain a traitor. Tensions escalate until fighting breaks out, Uldred becomes possessed, and the rest is history.

Ostagar is in chaos after the battle. Uldred would be with the mages in the main force, and Loghain's contingent is retreating. It is very unlikely that Uldred and Loghain have any opportunity to speak after the battle. It makes far more sense that they speak before.

This may even be why Uldred personally makes the suggestion that a mage should light the beacon rather than the Grey Wardens, before his idea is shot down by a Revered Mother.

Howe and Highever

The attack on Castle Cousland is probably the strongest piece of evidence that Loghain's plans were in motion before Ostagar.

The timing of Howe’s coup in Highever cannot be a coincidence. Howe is an opportunist. He has resented Bryce Cousland for years, a resentment that the teyrn has no doubt tried to mitigate by offering Howe favor and friendship. But underneath all their supposed camaraderie, Howe still holds a lesser title, and feels he deserves what Bryce has.

But he has never acted on that resentment before now.

Howe would never have attacked the Couslands if he didn’t think he could get away with it. And why would he think that under King Cailan? The King’s response to a Cousland warden’s news is shock at Howe’s actions and a promise to bring him to justice after the battle—a promise that Cailan does not live to keep.

Howe knows that Cailan will be out of the way soon. He has to. And his support of Loghain is likely being rewarded with a promise to let him keep Highever.

It is also made explicitly clear in the Cousland prologue that Bryce is a very loyal supporter of King Cailan, and he is one of the most powerful men in Ferelden, the only one of a rank equal to Loghain—which gives Loghain a whole lot of incentive to have him out of the way, just like Eamon, if he’s planning a regime change.

Loghain’s Motives

So, if we accept that Loghain’s betrayal of Cailan was premeditated, what does that change about his motives?

Maybe less than you’d think. The truth is, everything about Cailan that might cause Loghain to make an on-the-spot decision at Ostagar, he already knows well before the battle. He knows that Cailan is a romantic, obsessed with heroic stories but with little experience actually leading an army. He knows that his daughter the queen handles most of the actual ruling of Ferelden. Though he does not seem to know about Cailan’s personal correspondences with Empress Celene (judging by his reactions if you take him along for Ostagar), he probably knows about Cailan’s affairs (because Anora knows), and he definitely knows that Cailan is getting a bit too friendly with Orlais for his comfort. The Wardens coming to Ferelden from Orlais has already raised his hackles well before the battle at Ostagar. The fact that Cailan has called upon Orlais for military aid is probably a bridge too far.

All this is to say that if Loghain is truly as unimpressed with Cailan’s rule and as concerned for Ferelden’s freedom as he seems to be… none of these concerns begin at Ostagar. This is not about one battle poorly handled. This has been building for quite some time, probably since Cailan's coronation if we're being honest. And as a seasoned military officer, I don’t believe that Loghain would wait until the last minute to make that decision. He would be looking at the potential outcomes (or what he fears would be the outcomes), not just of Ostagar, but of Cailan’s decisions and policies generally.

And when it all reached a tipping point, he would begin making a plan.

Whether he's wrong or right, whether Ferelden is in the kind of danger he believes, that I’m not here to argue today. I do think it’s possible to see it multiple ways. I think that given what we now know of Empress Celene from The Masked Empire, it’s safe to say she had no intention of trying to reconquer Ferelden through military force. I also think it’s safe to say that Loghain does not have the knowledge that we now have, and has no reason to trust her intentions. There is plenty that Loghain does later that I will not defend. But I do find his motives with regard to Ferelden’s independence, and his long personal stake in it, at the very least sympathetic, and certainly compelling with regard to his character arc overall.

We tend to be more lenient toward crimes of passion, actions taken in the heat of the moment, largely because the underlying assumption is that the person might not have acted rationally, perhaps would not have acted so had they not been so provoked, and might regret their actions immediately after. I do not think this describes Loghain; I also don’t think that changes a whole lot in his case, because he was always going to act when he felt that Ferelden was threatened, whether it was in the moment or through weeks or months of careful planning. He has invested too much, lost too much, for the sake of this nation. If he believes it is under threat, he is going to act.

And I think that all the evidence, as well as all that we know of Loghain himself, points to him acting with a plan.

[thalassophiliascripte]

texas hold me

Balor/Female Farmer, 2k, read on ao3 here

With Eiland intoxicated, there's no one to run Dungeons and Drama. Balor has another suggestion for how the group could spend their Friday Night - and there's definitely no ulterior motives there.

Friday nights at the inn were always interesting, but there was an arcing electric current in the air tonight.

Perhaps it had something to do with the drinks being half-off. Perhaps it had something to do with the kids being off camping in the Western Ruins. (Maple had seen the ancient circlet and the lost Aldarian crown in the museum, and insisted they go camping to see if she could find a real royal crown for herself.)

Perhaps it had nothing to do with either of those facts, and more to do with the warmth along her side where she was leaning against Balor. Eiland had stumbled in from talking to the kids at the ruins and plunked himself down at the bar—so Dungeons and Drama was cancelled for the night. Adeline had wandered over to ask him what was going on, but the wild look in his eyes and the muttered comment about Dell was enough to send her back over to the newly-emptied Dungeons table shaking her head.

“I’m not sure what happened, but it couldn’t have been anything good to leave Eiland looking like that,” she said. Then she clapped her hands together. “Even if we can’t play, we need to find something to do. I’ve set aside the next few hours on my calendar to have fun, so let’s get to it!”

“Right,” Aryn replied. “Right.” Technically she wasn’t officially part of the game, but Eiland had asked her to voice an NPC a few weeks ago, and then the rest of the players had been enchanted with her small gnomish barbarian, and dragged her along with them as they pursued their next objective, so she also needed to find another form of entertainment for the evening.

Balor watched the other table with a wistful look in his eyes, which he then turned on the remaining Dungeons and Drama players—which was only Celine, Aryn, and Adeline at this point.

Holt had pulled up a chair behind his wife, and with Olric watching his brother at the bar, she was slowly piling up a ridiculous number of poker chips while he watched her with shining eyes. Juniper and Valen leaned on one another, having taken the blacksmith brother’s place, and steadily descending further into drunken hysteria from the frequency of their giggling.

“It’s been such a long time since I was able to play a round of poker,” he sighed.

Aryn glanced at Adeline, then at the boys at the bar. Reina was still serving them drinks, but when Aryn caught her eye, she winced and slowly shook her head while miming taking another drink.

“We could play a round,” she said slowly, “but only if you get Olric, March, and Eiland over here to join us.”

Balor followed her gaze toward the bar, and grimaced. “I’m not certain how good they’ll be for it,” he said as he stood up. “I’ll try though—the doctor is off duty, and there’s nobody that can help if they drink themselves unconscious.”

Aryn watched him at the bar for a few minutes, having some sort of hushed conversation with the drinkers. March’s face flushed an interesting shade of red, and Eiland was nodding before Balor had finished the offer. Then he nearly slid off his stool. Balor had to steady him as he made his way over to the table. March and Olric followed, leaning on each other.

“Good old-fashioned poker is all well and good,” Balor began once he’d gotten back to their table. “But we were talking over by the bar, and we’d be able to just rotate in to the other table if we wanted to do that. So, does anyone care to wager something a little more…interesting?”

It just so happened that the last of his announcement left Balor murmuring in Aryn’s ear. His breath tickled the hair on the nape of her neck. She bit the inside of her lip in a desperate bid to avoid shivering.

“What did you have in mind?” Aryn asked. Balor hummed, and stroked his chin theatrically. Before he could say anything, Adeline interrupted him.

“Not drinks.”

He tsked. “You make a good point, Adeline, but that’s no fun.”

“We could attempt Caldosian variant poker,” Eiland hiccuped. “They didn’t wager for coin or chips—really, it was a fascinating byproduct of their non-monetary economy. Depending on your social class, in order to procure goods and services you might engage in a barter economy or a gift economy, which also created a disparity in the variety of good available to the common man—” Eiland trailed off. “What was I saying?”

Balor raised an eyebrow. “So you suggest we make no wagers?”

Eiland snapped his fingers, “Ah right! I was talking about poker! No, I was suggesting we go with something non-monetary. Like—” he waved his hands around “—like favors or something.”

March muttered something indecipherable, his face mushed into his brother’s bicep. “March says he’s hot,” Olric volunteered. March reached up to stroke Olric’s face.

“Shh, shh—you didn’t have to tell them that,” he slurred, before breaking into giggles. “I’m always hot. ‘S a part of bein’ a blacksmith.”

It was Balor’s turn to snap his fingers. Aryn knew that he and Eiland spent time together—but had Balor picked the habit up from Eiland, or had Eiland picked it up from Balor? “I know!” He leaned forward, and set his chin in his hands, devilish grin spreading across his face. “Has anyone played strip poker before? It’s a passing lark that people like to play in the Capital.”

Aryn flushed. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Balor draped an arm across her shoulders. “Ari, Ari, Ari. Of course it’s a good idea.” There was a strange intensity to his gaze.

“I can’t,” mumbled Celine.

“What?”

“I can’t!” Celine wailed. “My parents are right there!” She dropped her forehead against the tabletop. “I really want to play though. It sounds like fun.”

She was probably tipsy too—her cheeks had been awfully red before she’d face-planted onto the table. “We could go somewhere else?” Aryn suggested, hoping that she could pick up some water before they left and then—she might be able to sober up her friends before they went back home.

Adeline tapped her chin. “The park maybe? Near the old oak tree with the swing? It’s close enough to town that we shouldn’t get into any trouble, and still a decent ways away from where the kids are camping.”

“Sounds good to me,” Aryn shrugged.

As they left, Aryn made eye contact with Ryis, and cocked her head—a silent invitation. He shook his head, and gestured at Landen, who was leaning heavily on his shoulder. She shrugged again, and turned back toward the rest of her friends. It would have been nice for Ryis to come, but, in turn, he was too nice to leave Landen alone while drunk. She’d stop by in the morning to check in on him and tell him any embarrassing details from whatever was about to happen, she promised herself.

The night air was brisk on her face, as they made their way through the town toward the park. The clear sky sent shafts of moonlight across the paving stones, and Aryn was struck by the thought that it would be very nice to have someone’s hand in hers. There weren’t many crickets left, but the ones who lived to brave the early autumn chill were playing their hearts out in the otherwise still air. Balor’s arm brushed up against her side, and then his pinky looped through hers.

She hoped the cool air kept her from blushing. ***

They wound up in a lopsided circle in the moonshadow of the old oak tree in the park. March was splayed out on the ground with his head in Olric’s lap, snoring gently, and Olric had waved himself out of the game with a sheepish look at his brother. Eiland was doing slightly better than March, though that was partially the result of Adeline filling up his flask with water every time he wasn’t paying attention. He’d likely had about two or three flasks-worth of water, and they were clearly helping level him out.

Celine, on the other hand, kept bursting into random fits of giggles. She was lucky that she was the one sitting against the trunk of the tree, since Aryn had her doubts that she’d be able to stay upright by herself otherwise.

Balor flicked open the box of cards, and began to shuffle with practiced movements. His slender fingers and dexterous hands left the cards practically flying through the air, and if Aryn had to guess, he was showing off quite unnecessarily as he finished shuffling.

“How do we do this?” asked Adeline.

***

Things derailed quickly. It only took a half-round, actually.

Celine and Eiland were both overconfident drunks.

Olric was glancing wide-eyed between Celine and Eiland, who’d both lost their shirts, and in Eiland’s case, his cape. “I think it’s time that I take March home,” he stammered. And then he proved that his muscles weren’t just for show, as he hoisted his brother over his shoulder and booked it for their house.

“To be fair, he lasted longer than I expected him to,” said Celine. Aryn snickered, and anted up.

“Poor Olric,” said Adeline. “And March wasn’t any help.” She tossed her last few chips in the palm of her hand, weighing them, then sighed. “I’m out.”

Balor narrowed his eyes at Aryn, and dropped another round of chips in the pot. Struck by sudden burst of confidence, Aryn caught and held Balor’s eyes while she shimmied out of her shirt, and dropped it onto the pot.

Eiland wrinkled his brow. “I thought you were supposed to bet on what you’re taking off before the round ended. Or have I been doing this wrong?” He glanced mournfully at where his cape had been folded up neatly with the other stripped clothing, and shivered.

“I didn’t think it was fair that you and Celine were already shirtless,” she said, and thanked her lucky stars that she’d worn her cutest bra—despite the fact that the lace was annoying—since it was the last clean one before she did laundry the next morning. It was nice letting it dry while she was at Saturday Market.

Eiland’s eyes remained narrowed, and his brow remained wrinkled, but he didn’t say anything else.

“I’m out,” Celine sighed after looking at her cards. “I’m having terrible luck tonight.” She leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. After a moment, she started to snore softly. “In that case—” Balor laid out his cards. A royal flush. Again. Somehow, Aryn didn’t think that it was an accident that Balor had been sent over to the Dungeons and Drama table and as far away from the poker game as possible. Damn him and his pretty hands.

She sighed, and dropped her two pair on the ground. “Another round?”

Adeline stood up as Balor started gathering cards. “I’d love to, but I’ve run out of fun-hours, and I should take Eiland home so that Elsie can laugh at him and help him sober up a bit so he’s not totally out of it tomorrow.”

Eiland frowned. “I’m fine—” he started, then Adeline pulled him to his feet. He clutched his head and groaned. “Nevermind. Lead the way.”

Ah. So it was just her and Balor. That was—fine—everything was fine. She wished that she hadn’t taken off her shirt now. The air that had been previously still stirred, and this time she couldn’t hold off her shiver. Balor had gathered up the cards, and was shuffling again.

“Another round?” he offered her. "I know there's only the two of us, but…"

“Is that all that’s on offer?” she said, and then clapped a hand to her mouth. “Wait. I don’t know why I said that.” If she hadn’t been blushing before, she certainly was now.

Balor had stopped shuffling, and his cheeks were pink. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “Were you looking for more?” He was grinning now though, and her heart lurched. “You know me—I pride myself on offering all kinds of goods and services.”

His hand cupped her chin, and she looked up into iolite eyes. “I’d love to make a deal,” he continued.

She leaned in.

“After all—I’ve always had an eye for pretty things,” he breathed, and then his lips were on hers.

[mariacallous]

Immigration and economics loom large on the campaign trail and in the minds of voters, but America’s foreign entanglements could well decide the election.

The Democratic Party is desperately trying to keep debate about the conduct of Israel’s wars in Gaza and Lebanon contained to an intramural row over policy, with marginal electoral impact. Meanwhile, Ukraine’s supporters are engaged in a concerted effort to exploit divisions within the Republican Party to defeat former President Donald Trump.

It’s unclear if either will succeed. But as a result, the wars in Ukraine and Gaza are having outsize impact on key blocs of voters in several swing states, according to voters and analysts interviewed by Rolling Stone.

While both the left and the right are divided over various aspects of foreign policy, the most notable gap between majority public opinion and a candidate’s position is with Trump and his antipathy toward Ukraine.

Despite the fact that Russia invaded Ukraine, Trump inexplicably said in a podcast released last week that Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky “should never have let that war start. That war is a loser.”

Such views may cost him the election against Vice President Kamala Harris.

“This is the most defining and potentially divisive political issue in the most consequential election in modern times,” says Paul Rieckhoff, a political activist who served in Iraq as a U.S. Army infantry officer, who describes himself as an independent. “I don’t know if there is a single issue where [Trump and Harris] are more clearly different than Ukraine.”

While statistical models that attempt to predict voter behavior have, perhaps, proven as close to pure science as ornithomancy or astrology, it is clear that this election — like all others for decades — will be decided in a handful of swing states, likely by the narrowest of margins.

In some of those states, voters who in the pre-Trump era formed the moderate Republican center are now abandoning their party’s candidate — and they are doing so over Ukraine.

“Ninety percent of it is because of his ridiculous foreign policy,” says John Feltz, a 58-year-old software engineer in Michigan. Feltz says he is a Republican who refuses to vote for Trump. “He has no discernible principle that I can see, and that’s what the Republican party used to have: principles.”

The vice president’s campaign is pouring resources into attracting voters like Feltz, particularly in Pennsylvania. Last week, Harris began a tour of the battleground state aimed at disaffected Republican voters. She’s particularly hoping to attract backers of former U.S. ambassador to the United Nations Nikki Haley, whose long-shot bid to secure the GOP nomination showcased her hawkish foreign policy views.

During the only presidential debate between Harris and Trump, held in Philadelphia in September, the vice president took aim at a bellwether group particularly motivated by the war in Ukraine: Polish-Americans.

“[Russian President Vladimir] Putin would be sitting in Kyiv with his eyes on the rest of Europe, starting with Poland,” Harris told Trump. “And why don’t you tell the 800,000 Polish-Americans right here in Pennsylvania how quickly you would give up, for the sake of favor and what you think is a friendship — with what is known to be a dictator who would eat you for lunch?”

Democrats view Ukraine as an effective lever to move swing-state voters as the issue hits a nerve with many moderate Republicans. Trump’s stance on the war finds resistance even in the deep red South.

Alan Nummy, a 57-year-old EMT from Elmore County, Alabama, says he voted Republican all his life, including for Trump in 2016 and 2020 “with reservations.” This year, Nummy says he “can’t hold his nose any longer,” and will write in “Nikki Haley” in November because of Trump’s lack of commitment on helping Ukraine and “kicking Russia’s butt.”

“I’m probably 90 percent in line with the policies of his administration, maybe even higher than that,” the Biloxi native assures Rolling Stone. “But I can’t vote for him now because he will not commit to assisting a nation in destroying one of the two largest political enemies of the U.S. — China’s number one, Russia’s number two.”

Ukraine is an obvious vector of attack, because it is an issue where Trump is at odds with the general electorate.

More than 62 percent of Americans say their sympathies lie with Ukraine — including 76 percent of Democrats, but also 58 percent of Republicans and 57 percent of independents, according to research by the University of Maryland.

According to the same study, the number of Americans comfortable supporting Ukraine for “as long as it takes” has been increasing — from 38 percent in March 2023 to 48 percent in August. A separate study by the University of Chicago and The Associated Press conducted in mid-September shows that people who think the U.S. is providing “too much” support to Ukraine has dropped from 52 percent last year, to 34 percent this year — 60 percent think the aid is “too little” or “the right amount.”

Contrast this with Israel’s response to the Oct. 7, 2023, attack by Hamas and subsequent war in Gaza, where Americans are far more divided. According to the University of Chicago poll, when asked which party they most sympathized with, 25 percent said Israel and 15 percent said the Palestinians — 31 percent are sympathetic to “both equally,” while 26 percent to “neither.”

Further data from the Institute for Global Affairs, a research nonprofit attached to the risk consultancy firm Eurasia Group, indicates regardless of political affiliation, 22 percent of Americans believe the U.S. should end military support for Israel, while 23 percent think it should support Israel unconditionally. The rest of Americans want to see continued military support, but with conditions attached: 34 percent with a cease-fire, and 21 percent dependent on humanitarian aid access.

This lack of consensus on Israel-Palestine is why it has been easy for Harris to simply dodge tough questions about U.S. policy toward the conflict. Her opponent’s other faults — specifically his racism and anti-Muslim bigotry — help explain why it is difficult for motivated Democrats who support Palestine to categorically reject their party’s nominee: They want a shift in policy, not a Trump victory.

“We’re asking for her to commit to enforcing our laws, our international laws on friend and foe alike, which is what we do to Ukraine, which is what we do to everybody else,” Ruwa Romman, a Palestinian-American who serves on Georgia’s state legislature, told NPR on the outskirts of the DNC in Chicago in August. “And that continues to be, and has been, the ask all the time.”

Still, rifts are growing over the Biden administration’s handling of Israel’s wars in Gaza and Lebanon. Arab-Americans, who make up an influential voting bloc in the swing state of Michigan that has traditionally supported Democrats, are now evenly divided on their preferred candidate, according to data from the Arab American Institute.

“In our thirty years of polling Arab-American voters, we have not witnessed anything like the role that the war on Gaza is having on voter behavior,” James Zogby, president of the organization, wrote. “The year-long unfolding genocide in Gaza has impacted every component sub-group within the community.”

History suggests voters motivated by Gaza may find little daylight between the two candidates after the election. Trump — who in 2017 recognized Jerusalem as the capital of Israel — is fond of claiming, “I did more for Israel than anybody,” and has shown little sympathy toward the Palestinian cause. But while the Biden administration — and by extension the Harris campaign  — has at times quietly leaked criticism of Israel’s actions, it has displayed little interest in going to the mat with Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu over humanitarian aid access or withholding military assistance.

Unlike Gaza, where the two parties differ mostly in how they talk about supporting Israel, there is a deep divergence on Ukraine policy — and that extends to within the Republican Party between MAGA loyalists and GOP hawks.

While most Republicans supported Ukraine at the beginning of the war, as the presidential campaign accelerated so too did discontent with U.S. policy. That’s evident in research showing half of Republicans now think Washington is supplying “too much” aid to Ukraine.

That split has forced GOP politicians to voice mealy-mouthed reservations about aid, primarily focusing on the monetary cost. 

“I don’t have an appetite for further Ukraine funding, and I hope it’s not necessary,” Speaker of the House Mike Johnson (R-La.) said recently. “If President Trump wins, I believe that he actually can bring that conflict to a close … I think he’ll call Putin and tell him that this is enough.”

Trump running mate J.D. Vance, who in 2022 declared “I don’t really care what happens to Ukraine one way or another,” has embraced a skeptical role in line with Trump when it comes to Kyiv.

“The problem here vis-à-vis Ukraine is, America doesn’t make enough weapons, Europe doesn’t make enough weapons, and that reality is far more important than American political will or how much money we print and then send to Europe,” Vance said in a visit to the Munich Security Conference in February, where he skipped a meeting with Zelensky, the Ukrainian president.

After becoming Trump’s vice presidential candidate, Vance clarified his stance, describing to an interviewer in September his vision for an end to the war: “What it probably looks like is the current line of demarcation between Russia and Ukraine, that becomes like a demilitarized zone.”

Trump, meanwhile, has promised to end the war “in 24 hours” if he is elected — although he hasn’t provided specific details. But such musings throw into sharp focus his history of undermining Ukraine’s security for personal political advantage.

In 2019, Trump tried to pressure newly inaugurated Zelensky to investigate a number of conspiracies and tie them to Joe Biden, threatening to withhold military aid if he did not. A phone call in which Trump made the demands was reported by a whistleblower on the National Security Council, and it formed the core of his first impeachment effort — an attempt to overturn his 2020 election loss resulted in the second.

While the House approved two articles of impeachment, Trump was acquitted by the Senate over the Ukraine affair in a February 2020 vote that split along party lines — with Sen. Mitt Romney being the sole Republican to break with his colleagues. Four-and-a-half years later, and the sordid episode continues to lurk in the background, adding to an uncomfortable atmosphere when Trump met Zelensky last month in New York City. 

“We have a very good relationship, and I also have a very good relationship, as you know, with President Putin. And I think if we win, we’re going to get it resolved very quickly,” Trump said in a press conference ahead of the meeting.

“I hope we have more good relations between us,” was Zelensky’s tepid response.

The stench of the Ukraine affair permeates Trump’s legacy on foreign affairs — especially given his repeated and consistent praise of Putin, such as calling the dictator “savvy” and a “genius” on the eve of the 2022 invasion.

Such statements, and Trump’s affinity for a dictator responsible for starting a war that may have already killed more than half a million people, embarrass many Republicans. They also provide fodder for his opponents within the GOP.

“Trump is siding with a dictator who kills his political opponents,” Haley said in South Carolina while still running for the Republican nomination. “Trump sided with an evil man, over our allies who stood with us on 9/11.”

Haley has, of course, ultimately kissed the ring and closed ranks behind Trump. But not every Republican is ready to cast aside principles for their party’s candidate.

Republican Voters Against Trump, a Super PAC started by a group of GOP dissidents and funded by the billionaire venture capitalist Reid Hoffman, has churned out ads and social media posts featuring Republicans talking about Ukraine.

“Why I am extremely against Trump now is his position in Ukraine,” says one ad featuring a voter in Georgia identified as Nikita, a Ukrainian American. “I’m doing everything in my power to make sure he doesn’t get elected.”

The Super PAC’s founder, Republican strategist Sarah Longwell, says it is spending as much as $45 million to persuade “center-right voters, right-leaning, independent, soft GOP voters, to vote against Trump.”

While such groups are focused on siphoning votes away from the former president, some of Ukraine’s supporters are hedging their bets. They hope to bring the Republican Party back into line with majority opinion, and to do so they are taking aim at two traditionally conservative demographics: veterans and evangelical Christians.

“Republicans by and large support Ukraine. The question you really have to ask is: ‘Who does not support Ukraine?’” says Rieckhoff, who hosts a podcast called Independent Americans and has a long history of political activism. In 2012, Rolling Stone included him in a list of “Leaders Who Get Things Done.”

“People need to understand that J.D. Vance and Donald Trump are in a very radical minority that undermines American national security,” he adds.

The nonprofit Rieckhoff founded in 2004 — Iraq and Afghanistan Veterans of America, more commonly known as IAVA — was essential to the passage of the Post-9/11 G.I. Bill, which paid for Vance’s undergraduate studies at Ohio State University. Earlier this year Rieckhoff helped start a new group: American Veterans for Ukraine, or AVU. The goal is to shape American policy toward Ukraine.

“This is the same crew who tried to get people out of Iraq, and out of Afghanistan. It’s a veteran’s Underground Railroad … We want to use our skills and our networks to support and defend democracy,” he says. Although the U.S. has provided billions of dollars in aid to Kyiv and “there is significant philanthropy helping people in Ukraine,” he says, “there is comparatively very little advocacy and lobbying.”

He thinks the lack of behind-the-scenes politicking created the crisis earlier this year, when for nearly six months Republicans in Congress blocked the provision of military aid to Ukraine, taking a cue from Trump.

The former president and his acolytes in Congress were vocal in opposing more money for Kyiv. Despite the dire warnings of the national security and foreign policy establishment, the aid was blocked — with disastrous effects for Ukraine’s defense.

It wasn’t until Johnson met a Ukrainian evangelical named Serhiy Haidarzhy in April that the newly minted speaker of the House experienced a Damascene conversion over aid. With Johnson’s backing, Republicans swept away the opposition of MAGA militants, approving a $61 billion Ukraine funding package in a bipartisan show of force.

That meeting with Johnson wasn’t accidental. Ukraine is actively courting America’s conservative Christian right in the hope of strengthening its bulwark of Republican support should Trump regain power in November.

“Speaker Johnson is a great example. He voted nine out of nine times against Ukraine as a rank-and-file member of Congress. The intelligence briefings gave him the intellectual information to support Ukraine. When he met the Ukrainian evangelicals we brought over, it gave him an emotional and spiritual connection to Ukraine,” says Steven Moore, a 55-year-old GOP operative and Tulsa native, who worked on Capitol Hill for seven years as a Congressional aide — including as chief of staff for former Rep. Pete Roskam, an Illinois Republican.

Moore has a perspective unlike that of most Beltway insiders: After Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022, he moved to Kyiv and started a nonprofit — one of hundreds of foreigners conducting such grassroots efforts, of varying quality and accountability, that contribute aid to Ukraine’s war effort.

Although he is not a registered lobbyist, he now spends his time networking and connecting Republicans with counterparts in Kyiv. He also works to raise funds for his Ukraine Freedom Project, shooting videos featuring military equipment and sending them to Rotary Clubs across America.

Such outreach is important, Moore says, because “what we find is that for the most part, when you give conservatives accurate information about Ukraine, they come to support Ukraine’s fight for its freedom. Unfortunately, it is difficult to compete with the massive Russian propaganda effort.”

Despite Trump’s claims he can end the war by calling up Putin, any peace deal is outside the power of an American president to accomplish without the cooperation of Ukraine. Ensuring that Kyiv’s calls are picked up in Washington regardless of which candidate sits in the White House is why Ukraine has been trying to build bridges to the GOP.

“I do not see anything surprising if Ukraine is looking for support in all directions,” says Oleksiy Goncharenko, a member of the Verkhovna Rada — Ukraine’s parliament — who is outspoken on foreign affairs.

“Maybe we could have done more, maybe there were mistakes, both with the Republicans and with the Democrats,” concedes Goncharenko. “Our country does not have much experience in promoting itself at such a level. But we welcome the support of the U.S., especially when it comes from both [parties].”

Connecting with American evangelicals has been central to Ukraine’s outreach, as they make up an influential segment of Republicans.

To this end, Zelensky’s government has sought to highlight Russia’s persecution of evangelicals and other religious minorities in the occupied territories under its control. Putin’s regime has kidnapped, tortured, jailed, and even murdered non-Orthodox Christians, such as Jehovah’s Witnesses — regarded as “religious extremists” by Moscow — solely because of their faith, according to findings by the U.S. Commission on International Religious Freedom, a bipartisan agency that monitors religious freedom worldwide.

In newly conquered territories in Ukraine, Protestants have paid a terrible price, Moore says, especially evangelical Baptists, who have been singled out for persecution by the Russian military as “American spies.”

“More than half of Republicans identify as evangelical Christians, and 70 percent of evangelical Christians who vote Republican are more likely to support Ukraine when you tell them that Russia is torturing and oppressing Ukrainians like them for their faith,” Moore asserts.

The Zelensky administration has even gone so far as to hold a “National Prayer Breakfast,” similar to the one established in the U.S. in 1953.

The American original is a fixture for Beltway insiders, where global movers and shakers rub shoulders in an informal milieu with U.S. lawmakers, who themselves are keen to be seen by evangelicals as visibly straddling the line between church and state. With as many as 3,500 attendees each year, the event is a clearinghouse for influence-peddling.

When the Zelensky administration decided to begin a similar tradition in Ukraine, GOP activists like Moore hoped it would succeed in attracting the conservative Christian right — and it did.

Rolling Stone attended Ukraine’s first National Prayer Breakfast in June, joined by Zelensky and hundreds of people from multiple religious denominations.

The opening speeches were followed by a prerecorded video address from Speaker Johnson and — much to the surprise of the audience — former Vice President Mike Pence.

Pence’s face suddenly materialized on an array of screens set up around the breakfast hall, his snow-white hair and cold, resolute glare staring out from his pale features. Trump’s former VP delivered a speech praising Ukrainians for their “courage,” reminding the audience of the sacrifices made so that “the blue-and-gold flag still waves over the skies of Ukraine,” as attendees tucked in to their breakfasts and chatted amongst themselves.

“Thank you all for standing with Ukraine … May God bless the people of Ukraine, and freedom-loving people everywhere,” Pence concluded.

Trump’s supporters, of course, erected a gallows and noose while chanting “Hang Mike Pence” during a riot on Jan. 6, 2021, forcing the then-vice president to flee the Capitol.

So while it is unlikely that Pence’s presence at Ukraine’s National Prayer Breakfast persuaded any Trump die-hards to change their vote, the hope was his presence might help convert less extreme conservative skeptics to Kyiv’s cause. And the effort poured into the event shows that when it comes to a new administration’s policy toward Ukraine — whomever is in the White House — its supporters know victory counts on a lot more than November ballots, or even thoughts and prayers.

[mc-lukanette]

If being embarrassed was a sport, Marinette would've won the game all by herself. If being embarrassed was a river, she'd be carried violently downstream screeching "Why did I do that?!" If being embarrassed was the goal of the night, she'd have succeeded with flying colors.

It was not, in fact, the goal of the night.

All Marinette had wanted was to spend some time with Nino at a charity event, make a few jokes about the guys who were auctioned off as temporary dates, and go about her life after a mildly fun night where nothing of interest happened.

Clearly, that was not the case, and it was all she could do to find the quickest opportunity to sneak out. It felt vaguely like she was abandoning Nino, but she suspected that he had similar plans.

Unfortunately, she'd barely made it out into the hall before a familiar and unfairly smooth voice called out, "Hey, Marinette."

"Eep!"

She jumped. The hallway was so empty and quiet that his voice seemed extra surprising, and Luka just stood there, casually smiling away like she hadn't just made a complete fool out of herself.

Maybe if I pretend not to know him, he'll go along with it, she thought desperately.

Only it was too late, Luka idly toying with his bangs as he admitted, "I didn't expect you to buy me."

Her face flushed pink. The sound of her hitting the table and shouting out her price probably could've been heard throughout all of Paris, right? She could already see the news articles about it: Desperate Woman Has Superhuman Vocal Chords.

And did he have to word it like she bought him and not a date with him?!

"W-well..." She dropped her gaze to the floor, rubbing against the rug with her foot. She debated on whether to claim I just acted, or I wasn't thinking, or it was just a joke, but ultimately decided to admit, "I didn't want anyone else to have you?"

She dared to peek up and saw his brows raise in surprise. Feeling the intensity of the auction come back, she stomped at the floor her foot and clarified, "B-because all those people don't know you, and you don't know them! You can't know what their intentions are!" With a small 'hmph', she crossed her arms and added, "And they were even advertising you as Jagged Stone's son, not Luka Couffaine!"

"I'm probably not a popular face, even with my dad," Luka replied, having the audacity to defend them.

"But you're a kind face!" Marinette protested, committing to her argument and pointing at him. "They kept bidding weak prices for you and I couldn't let them get away with that! It was like they didn't even respect your time!"

He choked out a laugh, covering his mouth to stifle the rest of it.

"D-don't laugh! I'm serious!"

"I know," he said through his giggles, clearing his throat to try and cut himself off. "I just feel lucky."

She faltered, confused. "Lucky?"

He nodded, smiling at her. "Thank you for looking out for me, Marinette. I really appreciate it."

"Really?"

"You're right. Maybe I could've been in danger."

She relaxed her shoulders, seeing that he actually understood. Of course, she knew she had "other motives" to buy a date with him, but at her core, she couldn't help worrying about him. She worried about everyone.

"...Still." She rubbed the back of her neck shyly, adding, "I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just bought you like that. I know it's for charity and I'm glad the money's going to it, but—" She covered her face to whine into her hands. "—I've never done this before! It feels like I'm claiming you! You don't even have to go on a date with me, really!"

There was a pause, followed by Luka letting out a slow breath. She tensed, sensing what she was fairly sure was disappointment, only to then feel Luka's fingertips against the back of her hands. He caressed downwards until he could grab her wrists, gently tugging to make her reveal her face to him.

"Disappointment" was not what she saw in his expression.

"What if I told you that it was okay?" he asked, almost in a whisper.

She blinked, then looked around to confirm that they were still alone. No one else was around, so her only guess was that Luka wanted to ensure that this conversation was only for them.

Blush intensifying, she swallowed and asked in reply, "F-for me to feel like I'm claiming you, or for you to go out on a date with me?"

He grinned instead of answering. "I'm looking forward to it, Marinette."

"Me claiming you, or going out on a date with me?" she asked again.

He continued as if he didn't even hear her, "I'll have to try my best to give you the kind of date you deserve."

Is that just... a yes?!

Before Marinette could respond, the two heard rapid footsteps approaching them. They looked just in time to see Nino fleeing the scene of the event, Adrien following closely behind and calling after him.

Chuckling sheepishly as she watched them go, Marinette noted, "I guess he'll have to explain it like I did."

"You didn't buy a date with Adrien?"

Luka's tone had shifted entirely and it occurred to her that he must've been elsewhere when the date with Adrien was up for auction. She turned to look at him, replying, "No? I didn't bid for him.... ah—" She waved her hands desperately, realizing that she'd just trapped herself. "—not that I think he doesn't deserve protection! But... um..."

"Hm." He hummed, a sparkle in his eyes like something had clicked in his head. Reaching out to press his hands to hers and intertwine their fingers, he added, "Don't worry. I think I get it."

She tilted her head to the side. "Y....you do?"

He followed along, tilting his head in the same direction. "I'll call you later so we can schedule our date. I'll pay, of course."

"Wait—no!" She pulled away. "You didn't ask to have a date with me!"

"I don't have to ask to want one," he retorted without missing a beat, unusually direct.

What did I get myself into?!

[roo-bastmoon]

Dynamic Pricing & AI

According to the Hybe Q1 conference call held on Tuesday, May 2nd 2023, the company has chosen to apply the dynamic pricing system to SUGA and TXT concerts in the US, with plans to opt-in to more dynamic pricing in the future.

"Dynamic pricing" is the strategy of constantly adjusting prices in response to demand. It's basically an auction model, where more bids drive up the prices. Meaning, you could select a modest concert seat for $175 and while in the cart, other people selecting seats will drive the price up to $975 right as you check out. You won't know until right as you pay. You can easily be blindsided.

While legal (for now), it's essentially price gauging, and it's unnecessary. ARMY is desperate for Hybe to restock merch (like JK's mikrokosmos lamp) and to sell again any discontinued boxed sets and special edition items. If done right, restocking merch and selling content from the last 10 years would absolutely help carry profits through the two years BTS serves. Additionally, many ARMY are willing to pay to see official live streams of concerts, or are comfortable with the company raising prices of concerts at a flat rate to keep up with the cost of inflation.

Dynamic pricing is short-sighted and will hurt the artists, because only rich people and scalpers will be able to afford concerts. In this hellscape of an economy, regular ARMY will have to make hard choices between merch, albums, paid content, premium streaming services, and concerts. The last thing BTS ever needs is to see empty seats during their performances. This decision is motivated by pure greed and in my opinion goes against the ethics BTS writes about. It's not BTS' fault, but the company needs to be held accountable. This is a serious breach of trust between Hybe and the fans that helped build BigHit through pure love, dedication, and hard work.

If you have twitter, please help K-ARMY and I-ARMY trend:

#하이브티켓값뻥튀기반대

#NoDynamicPricing

@HYBEOFFICIALtwt

Furthermore, I will say this with regard to the recent Billboard article in which Bang PD comments on exploring AI artists. I recognize that AI and virtual reality are the future, but absolutely nothing will ever match an authentic, organic, human experience between a real-life artist and a real-life fan. I will never support AI pop content, personally. I have an aversion to such things and you can totally blame the children's fable The Emperor's Nightingale in my case.

I bring this topic up because I'd like to ask that ARMY stop feeding BTS' voices into AI to make cover songs and parody content. Any anti can manufacture one hell of a deep-fake scandal once our boys' voice and likenesses has been completely mapped. Please don't do it, and please politely encourage other ARMYs to not do it, out of respect for the artists' work and reputations.

As individuals, we none of us have much power to wield against a major corporation. As a collective, ARMY is powerful and can actually affect change. But it only works if you work it. Let us use our voices for good. Let us do what we do best: fight for our artists.

[uncertainwallflower]

Is that what it was? That terror, was it…love?

— Clarice Lispector, Ronald W. Sousa (translator), The Passion According to G.H.

NEVER FAR BEHIND (THOSE LIVID KNUCKLES) For @jilymicrofics's 2024 Jily Gift Exchange. Giftee: @reality-exodus Words: 742. Rating: E. Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence. Summary: To wrong Lily Evans is to face James Potter's wrath.

READ ON AO3 OR UNDER THE CUT

What smiting would be just? What punishment befitting of the crime? The Defendant would undoubtedly plead guilty. But hear me, oh Mighty One, and take pity—it was all for love.

It was all-consuming. That quickening of the heart; that swell of an ocean between the ears, within the skull; that hot heaving rage clawing at the ribcage, demanding to be set free—Stravinsky's Rite of Spring reaching crescendo. Nails biting into anxious palms—that desperate bid for self-control.... And then, like the snap of a tendon, that oh-so-sweet release, when fist melded with face to the sickening—the thrilling—Stravinsky!—symphony of cracking bone. Then the wash of calm. All before the faint scream of the Defended and the groans of the vermillion mouth cut through the glorious haze, and the guilt and the fear rushed forth with the realisation of what you had done. It hit you somewhere deep, somewhere dark, dank, as if you yourself had just met the hand of Man.

James, swallowing the rising tide of emotion, abandoned the crumpled suggestion of Quentin Trollope (the Victim) and focused instead on the reason for his presence in the cold corridor, the motivation behind his mind-numbing fury.

Lily wasn’t far away. She was sitting, spine straight as a lightning rod, with her back pressed into the raw stone wall behind him, trembling, grey school cardigan fallen—wrenched—off one shoulder, knees slumped forward and nearly fused from the pressure of the contortion, while her feet splayed out on either side of her: the unsteady limbs of a newborn foal. Her eyes, wide with terror, were trained on James. A single file of blood had made its steady way from the corner of her pink parted mouth to the cusp of her pale pointed chin. Flooding down from a steadily burning torch immediately above, Heavenly light cast a perfect amber nimbus over her messy titian head like a beautifully tragic saint. James nearly choked.

He was with her in an instant, his eyes searching hers for hurt, for pardon. His thumb messily brushed away the trickle of blood, achieving only a grotesque smear across her jaw. A lump lodged itself in his throat. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice hard gravel.

Lily nodded wordlessly, head threatening to fall limp in the security of his hands, which cupped her jaw ever so tenderly.

In the centre of the flagstone floor, Quentin stirred. His usually neat, presently dishevelled, bowl cut was fair and thin; it wobbled as he did. Gazing down at his own hot blood, cupped in his quaking hand, his face split into a deranged grin: ear-to-ear with all teeth bared. He laughed once, twice, then, without looking up from the winey liquid now carving its way down his wrist, rasped: “You motherfucker. I think you broke it.” He laughed again—loud gasps of glee. An entire minute elapsed, then, upon discerning that it would garner no response, he fell deathly silent, and settled the pair with a cold hard stare. “You can’t protect her forever.”

James slowly hauled Lily up so they were both standing, her arms flung around his shoulders.

“You hear me?”

“Just fuck off, Trollope,” spat James as he guided Lily down the corridor, without giving the pathetic lump the dignity of turning his head to address him.

Now spitting frothy blood like a rabid dog, Quentin stuffily shouted: “Just you wait, Potter! I’ll get her eventually and you know it. I’ll kill that jumped-up little Mudblood.”

James paused, unlooped Lily’s arms from his neck and his from her waist. “Wait here.”

“James—”

“Wait. Here.”

A few long strides took him right back down the corridor from whence he came. As he reached Quentin’s hunched spine, the boy-puddle, who had been probing his swelling nose, stilled. He chuckled and threw a manic smile over his bony shoulder. Sneered: “Back for more?”

James shrugged. “You could say that.” Then, with all the presence of mind of someone intending to inflict true harm and the force of knuckles hardened from years of rigorous training, struck the pinched sparrow-like face square in the nose. Where before there had been a crunch, there was now a squelch. James came away from Quentin Trollope’s unconscious form splattered with ruby, which he vanished as quickly as it had come, before reuptaking his hold on a swaying Lily and, pressing the softest of kisses to her tear-stained cheekbone, helped her down the corridor.