#it makes sense to me and to me specifically
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The more I think about it, the more I question Arcane S2's politics and themes, which were so foundational to S1. Like, a tiny example [SPOILERS AHEAD]:
Singed wins. He gets exactly what he wants in the end. All his "efforts" are rewarded. What does that say about people who share his ideology of eugenics? He is the source of nearly every horrible thing and conflict that happened (Shimmer, the factory deaths, Jinx, Vander as Warwick, the corruption of Viktor), and he gets a happier ending than any other character. Not even a 'he got what he wanted but he has become completely unrecognizable/monstrous to his daughter' tag at the end. You can say they're setting him up and need to open his daughter to future shows, but the way you end a character's story says something about what you think about that character. What does it say when the eugenicist war criminal gets the happy ending he doesn't deserve?
#personal#delete later#and you can say âit's not that deep it's just what makes sense to end his characterâ but lets not kid ourselves#this past month people have been chattering about microexpressions in animation or metaphors and symbolism in interactions#and random props and set details. the end of a character's arc MEANS something thematically.#and it just feels offputting that the most unforgivable character wins while everyone else is dead or suffers alone#and don't give me that âsometimes the bad guy winsâ look this is an extreme lol.#i would be fine with this outcome for singed if literally EVERY other character wasn't suffering. only singed got what he wanted#honestly fans who have been completely unwilling to consider negative analysis and criticisms of arcane annoy me so much#y'all chirp about how amazing it is that arcane is so political until the politics get weird. then it's a completely apolitical show#specifically the final âdirt under you fingernailsâ line. that felt so weird and offputting coming from vi#a part of this is definitely just reactionary anger at a fictional character. like. you caused untold amounts of suffering and agony#all for your daughter. fuck you you don't get your daughter
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i need to be working on finals but instead i spent my time reading the crustiest pdf of some guy's dissertation about canebrakes from the 1930s
was it actually accepted? is it a reliable source? does this guy know anything about plants? who knows. with river cane we gotta take everything we can get. this is INVALUABLE info, I can't believe it took me this long to find it. this guy talked to people who were born in the 1850's about their memories of canebrakes. I doubt these personal testimonies are documented anywhere else.
and... it's devastating! even from the viewpoint of someone in the 1930's, there had been a systematic extermination of the canebrakes, where the impenetrable and acres-big bamboo forests of memory only remained in distantly rural areas. The author talks about dozens of specific sites in different US states that used to have extensive and huge canebrakes but the river cane was completely obliterated from them.
The oldest records consistently state that Arundinaria gigantea or Rivercane would reach 30-40 feet in height and 3-4 inches thick. Many different early colonial sources speak of river cane this size. At the time of the author, the cane he visited was mostly 15-20 feet tall or so. Nothing compared to the giant canebrakes of the past, he keeps reminding us. And nowadaysâalmost 100 years after the time of that writing!âit is very rare to find river cane even 10-12 feet tall, it is crammed into tiny little areas at the edges of roadsides, and hardly anybody even knows an American bamboo ever existed
It even mentioned the area where my Mamaw grew up, saying that the place was once covered in miles of canebrake! Mamaw says that she always remembered cane along the river sides, but when we visited there a couple years ago, I didn't see any cane at all
there's SO many good facts and testimonies about river cane in there but i'm just shaken cause from the authors perspective, the river cane had been devastated to a small remnant of what it once was, but nowadays, it is devastated to a small remnant of what THAT was.
Some researchers are kicking around a theory that passenger pigeons and Carolina parakeets were dependent upon river cane, and that's why they went extinct. One guy i've talked to believes passenger pigeons could have been responsible for distributing the seeds (we still don't really know how river cane seeds distribute)
Apparently back when canebrakes were so common that there was cane producing seeds all the time (an incredibly rare occurrence now) they provided an incredibly valuable food resource for wild animals. In fact some of the colonial writings quoted say that once the canebrakes died off in a certain area, the wild game would disappear!
I'm starting to believe in the "canebrakes + passenger pigeons/Carolina parakeets" theory. It makes sense that practically eradicating a whole biome/habitat would cause something to go extinct, and the timeline and habitat associations are right.
I will NEVER be capable of shutting up about the canebrakes. Imagine if we did such a good job at exterminating the bison that today, almost no one in the USA even knew what a bison was.
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TIGHTLING âââ LUKE HUGHES
request: "luke hughes + reader doing tiktok couple trends??"
here is the trend i was doing!
The phone props precariously against a stack of books on the coffee table, its tiny lens trained on you and Luke as he lounges on the couch beside you. His long legs are sprawled out, a stark contrast to your cross-legged position, and he looks completely at ease, a faded Michigan sweatshirt hanging loosely on his broad frame.
It was your ideaâof course it wasâto rope him into yet another TikTok trend. And honestly, it didnât take much convincing. Luke, for all his teasing about how âobsessedâ you are with the app, has never been one to back down from your antics. You swear he secretly loves these little moments where the two of you can just be goofy together.
âOkay, so hereâs the deal,â you start, holding your phone up to demonstrate the angle and framing, even though heâs barely paying attention. His eyes flick lazily from your face to the camera. âIâm gonna ask you a bunch of questions, and theyâre things only girls would knowâlike, makeup stuff, skincare stuff. You just have to guess what they mean.â
Luke blinks at you, visibly unimpressed. âThatâs it? I just guess?â
âYes.â You grin, wide and mischievous, and he narrows his eyes at you suspiciously.
âWhy do I feel like this is just a setup to make me look stupid?â
âIt's not, I promise.â You say, patting his knee in mock reassurance.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes, but the corners of his mouth tug upward into the faintest smile. Youâve won, and he knows it. âFine. But you owe me for this.â
âUh-huh,â you deadpan, grabbing the remote and shoving it out of the frame. âAnd what exactly do I owe you for a few minutes of your time?â
He tilts his head, pretending to think. âI donât know. Maybe you stop stealing my clothes every time you come over?â
âThatâs a deal Iâll never make,â you quip, setting the phone back on its makeshift tripod. âOkay, ready?â
Luke leans forward slightly, brushing his hair out of his face as he flashes you a lopsided grin. âHit me with it.â
And just like that, you hit record.
You settle back into the couch, phone recording, and glance at Luke, whoâs already sitting straighter, his focus zeroed in like this is some kind of high-stakes playoff. The intensity is so out of place that itâs almost impossible not to laugh, but you manage to keep a straight face. Barely.
âAlright,â you say, scrolling through your mental list of girl-specific words. âFirst question: What does waterline mean?â
Luke blinks. âWaterline?â His brows furrow, and he leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees like heâs trying to think through an SAT question. âLike... the edge of a body of water? Or where water stops?â
You gasp dramatically, clapping your hands together. âOh my God, yes! Thatâs exactly it. How did you know?â
His face lights up, the corners of his mouth quirking into a self-satisfied grin. âSeriously? I mean, it makes sense, right?â
âTotally,â you nod fervently, resisting the urge to crack up. âYouâre so smart.â
He smirks, leaning back against the couch. âTold you. Whatâs next?â
You bite your lip, stifling a laugh, and move on. âOkay, next question. Whatâs a cuticle pusher?â
Lukeâs face scrunches up, his confusion written all over it. âA... what?â
âCuticle pusher,â you repeat innocently, as though this is a perfectly normal thing for him to know.
He hesitates, narrowing his eyes at you. âUh... is it like... something you use to push dirt out from under your nails?â
You gasp again, clutching your chest like youâre shocked by his brilliance. âYes! Oh my God, Luke, how do you know these things?â
He lets out a laugh, visibly proud of himself. âI donât know! It just made sense!â
âWow,â you say, shaking your head like youâre genuinely impressed. âYouâre two for two.â
âDuh,â he quips, leaning forward again, his confidence swelling. âKeep going. Iâm on a roll.â
You suppress another laugh and press on. âOkay, what about... baking?â
âBaking?â he repeats, frowning. âLike... cooking?â
You shake your head quickly. âNot that kind of baking. Itâs a makeup thing.â
He sits back, tapping his fingers against his leg as he thinks. âMakeup... baking... Does it have something to do with heat? Like, you heat the makeup onto your face or something?â
It takes every ounce of willpower not to break character. âOh my God, yes! Exactly! You bake it onto your face to, like, set it. Youâre literally on fire, Luke. I canât believe this.â
He laughs again, a full, genuine laugh this time, his cheeks a little pink. âIâm just that good.â
âYou really are,â you say with mock awe. âOkay, okay, one more for now. Whatâs a winged liner?â
Luke doesnât even pause to think this time. âEasy. Itâs eyeliner, but itâs, like... shaped like wings.â
You clap your hands together, nodding enthusiastically. âYes! Oh my God, Luke! Youâre literally unstoppable!â
âI know, right?â He beams, clearly riding the high of getting âeverythingâ right. âSee? I told you Iâd win.â
You bite back your laughter, nodding along like youâre his number-one fan. âYouâre seriously the best at this. Iâve never seen anyone crush these questions like you.â
Luke leans back, folding his arms across his chest, looking far too pleased with himself. âAlright, whatâs the next round? Iâm ready.â
You canât hold it in anymore and burst into laughter, but he just looks at you, confused but still grinning. âWhat? Why are you laughing? Iâm killing it!â
And the best part? He truly believes it.
You shake your head, waving your hand as if to dismiss your laughter. âNothing, nothing! Youâre justâyouâre killing it, Luke. Like, I think you might know more about this stuff than I do.â
He grins, sitting up straighter. âI mean, you said it was trivia. Iâm just good at picking stuff up.â
âRight, right,â you say, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye as you compose yourself. âOkay, next question. Whatâs... double cleansing?â
Luke pauses, his competitive streak kicking back in as he furrows his brow in concentration. âDouble cleansing... like, washing your face twice? First to get the dirt off and then... to, I donât know, make it extra clean?â
You gasp again, clutching his arm this time. âYes! Oh my God, thatâs exactly it. How do you keep doing this?â
He looks so smug now, like he just nailed a game-winning goal. âIt just makes sense, you know? Two stepsâone for the surface, one for deep cleaning. Iâm basically an expert.â
You nod vigorously, stifling another laugh. âSeriously. Like, you should teach a class or something.â
âMaybe I will,â he says with a smirk. âAlright, next one. Hit me.â
You glance at your mental list again, biting your lip to keep from cracking up. âAlright. Whatâs a dupe?â
Luke tilts his head, confused but determined. âA dupe... like... a duplicate? Something that looks like something else?â
You slap your hand over your mouth, pretending to be floored. âYes! Oh my God, Luke, youâre literally on fire. Itâs like a cheaper version of something expensive. How are you so good at this?â
Heâs grinning so wide now, his cheeks pink with pride. âI donât know. I guess I just have a natural instinct for this stuff.â
âClearly,â you say, barely holding it together. âOkay, okay, next one. Whatâs a beauty blender?â
âA beauty blender?â He pauses, his competitive edge shining through as he carefully thinks it over. âUh... like... a machine that mixes stuff? Like makeup or foundation or something?â
You clasp your hands dramatically, your jaw dropping. âYes! Oh my God, Luke, are you kidding me? How do you know this?â
He throws his hands up like itâs no big deal, even though heâs clearly eating up the praise. âWhat can I say? Iâm just built different.â
You double over with laughter, but quickly try to disguise it as a cough when he narrows his eyes. âIâm serious! Youâre like... a prodigy.â
âI know,â he says, fully leaning into the role now. âAlright, whatâs next? Letâs keep going.â
You bite the inside of your cheek, wondering how far you can push this before he catches on. âOkay, this oneâs tricky,â you warn, straightening up. âWhatâs... tightlining?â
He blinks at you, a little wary but still confident. âTightlining? Uh... when you line something up really close together? Like... packing it in tight?â
You gasp again, throwing your head back. âYes! Oh my God, Luke! Itâs when you line your eyes super close to your lashes! Youâre incredible!â
His grin is so wide now, he looks like a kid who just found out heâs getting a puppy for Christmas. âI mean, itâs just logical, right? Tightlining. Tight lines. Easy.â
âEasy for you,â you say, shaking your head in mock amazement. âYouâre like a makeup genius.â
âI should probably put that on my rĂ©sumĂ©,â he jokes, leaning back and crossing his arms. âLuke Hughes: NHL defenseman, trivia champion, and makeup expert.â
You canât help but laugh again, your chest aching from holding it in for so long. But he still doesnât catch onâheâs far too busy basking in the glory of his âsuccess.â
âAlright,â you say, wiping a pretend tear from your eye. âOne last question, and this oneâs a doozy. Whatâs a halo eye?â
Lukeâs face scrunches up in confusion, but heâs clearly not backing down. âHalo eye... uh... is it like... when your eyes look shiny? Like theyâre glowing or something?â
You clasp your chest, pretending to be in awe. âYes! Thatâs exactly it! How did you know?â
He throws his hands in the air, grinning ear to ear. âI mean, itâs in the name. Halo. Glow. Itâs not that hard.â
Youâre practically wheezing at this point, barely able to hold yourself together. But Luke? Heâs still riding that high, completely oblivious to the fact that heâs been getting it hilariously wrong the entire time.
ââ COMMENTS
melia đ€ "halo eye⊠uh⊠when your eyes look shiny?" IM SCREAMING ⥠18k
abby grace đž the gasp after every answer has me CRYING đ ⥠14.5k
lily đŠ the fact that heâs dead serious makes this even better ⥠6.3k
viv đȘ© âdouble cleansing⊠to make it extra clean?â i canât breathe đ ⥠292
nj devils enthusiast âbaking⊠does it have something to do with heat?â AND YOU SAID YES đđ ⥠500
sarah rose âïž his face when you said he got it right đđđ pure joy ⥠4.2k
ellie âš heâs never gonna trust you again when he finds out đ ⥠1.8k
emma đ€ âtightlining⊠tight lines⊠easyâ LUKE WHAT ⥠239
sophia đ heâs gonna tell people heâs a skincare guru after this đ ⥠2k
madeline you couldâve asked him anything and heâd still be so proud of himself lmaoo ⥠103
noahâs gf how is he so wrong yet so sure every time đ ⥠89
âł make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !
âł thank you for reading all the way through, as always âĄ
#nhl imagine#nhl#nhl fic#hockey#nhl fanfiction#nhl oneshot#hockey fic#luke hughes x reader#hughes brothers#nj devils#new jersey devils#jack hughes#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes x oc#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes fanfic#luke hughes x y/n#luke hughes x you#nj devils imagine#njd
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"Pathetic mortals! Hear my demands," Corvina intones, feathers raised is a posture of challenge, "and despair, for the will of the night is unstoppable! Your compatriot has made a mockery of our alliance! You must," her voice shifts, a faint squawk betraying a feather-covered blush, "make her let go of me."
Maria, Halberd of Noon, peers up at Corvina. The villainess, once barely taller than her, has grown beyond all reason in the weeks since the Tremorlord ate the sun and plunged the world into an eternal and moonless night. "Is Anne being a problem?"
"Yes! I mean, uh," she tries to compose herself, "yes. Remove her, lest a worse fate befalls her! I will drop her in the ocean to freeze, see if I don't."
"Why don't you ask her yourself?"
"S-she just talks about wanting me to eat her! It's creepy! You deal with it!"
"⊠sure," Maria sighs. "Where is she, anyway?"
Corvina gestures vaguely towards her frankly excessive body. "Somewhere? I don't know. You find her."
Maria stares at Corvina, entirely unimpressed, and the former harpy hides her head under one of her wings. Another dozen wings flutter spasmodically along her body; her proprioception still hasn't caught up to the glut of power engorging her body. Perhaps it could be comical if it wasn't a reminder of how badly screwed they all are.
"Anne! Get out here!"
"don't wanna," the distant reply comes.
"Got you," Maria murmurs.
It's not that easy, of course. Getting to her requires navigating more of their former and future foe's body than Maria every wanted to be aware of, and Corvina keeps on reflexively hitting her with her wings (tolerable) or trying to disembowel her with whichever foot is nearest (irritating). The worst part is Maria's allergies. Harpies generate nearly as much dander as pigeons, and Corvina has not been taking proper care of herself.
Her eyes are watering and her nose is running when she finally finds Anne, Sword of the Morning, curled up under one of Corvina's wings. Several of Corvina's clawed feet hold her aloft, cradling her as delicately as a fresh-plucked flower.
"Hey, sis," Anne murmurs, shifting slightly. "Sup?"
"⊠wait, I thought Corvina didn't want you here?"
"Yeah. She hates me, you know that."
"Butâ"
"But," Anne smiles, "her body doesn't. S' a good cuddler."
"⊠that doesn't make any sense, Anne."
"Does. Wanna join?"
"No, Anne. I want you to stop pissing her off. We really can't afford it."
"Mmm," Anne yawns, "Can't afford to stop either, though âŠ"
"Explain?"
"Why should I? You already know all of it, and I'm tired."
The three Guardians of Dayâtwo, now, since the Shield of Dusk defected to the Tremorlord's forcesâhave never liked talking about the exact details of their powers. They wax strongest during the hours they are bound to (as does Corvina, their villainous reflection), and wane as time's passage draws them away, but âŠ
The fact that they still have some power during eternal night raises questions with indelicate answers. Questions like, well, "where does it come from?" And "how do we get more?"
Dusk's defection came after she asserted one specific answer, and rejected it entirely.
"⊠you can find someone else to cuddle, Anne."
"Don't wanna. Besides," she moves to flop onto the ground and Corvina's claws close around herâwrapping tight around her waist, her neck, and her thighs, pinning her in place like the delicious morsel that she is. "Don't think 'vina will let me."
"Yeah, okay," Maria grouses, "fuck this. Just stop asking her to eat you."
"S'not my fault that she's such a prude."
The villain decides to do the classic "team up to defeat a common foe" trope but it's been taking a lot longer than they had expected,the heroes are getting emotionally attached and it's starting to get weird.
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various and sundry artbook tidbits i found interesting (SPOILERS AHEAD FOR THE VEILGUARD ARTBOOK. obviously)
faction & location stuff:
a sketch page from the very early days exploring shape languages for factions like elves, dwarves, wardens, the necropolis, tevinter, and rivain, also includes concepts for the magesâ college and the ben-hassrath
early rivain concept arts have npcs with a similar armour patterning to duncanâs, suggesting itâs a mark of his rivaini heritage like i always thought!
the depiction of the ââcreation storyââ suggests elves were mimicking the bodies of dwarves when they formed their own, not humans like i think mythal says in game flashbacks, which would make more sense timeline wise
thereâs concept art of the city of ventus, which i believe is of particular relevance to mercar players? itâs right on the border of arlathan forest, and surrounded by magical statues holding out raised hands forming a ward along the tree line to keep it from encroaching
the home base was going to be a lovable fixer-upper of a ship given to us by isabela, named the dumat. this didnât fit the spy theme they were originally going for, so they tried really really hard to make it a submarine without feeling anachronistic by making it sort of sea monster shaped. there are a lot of cutaways and schematics. they were going to give it a mystery engine that you would get light fetch quests to feed random objects: âten dried lavender flowers, five quailâs eggs, three brass belt buckles, etc.....â the submarine then turned into an undersea mansion on the back of some giant shambling sea creature you would never get a good look at
later on there were some funny takes on the lighthouse specifically, like bringing back the sea creature theme to put it on the back of an interdimensional veil whale, or having it be the true location of the black emporium with a collection of eluvians that xenon the antiquarian lets you use
thereâs a tiny concept art for a âhigh-speed aravel chaseâ in a canyon like a western
tevinter gladiators are mentioned a couple times. we WEREEE going to get to see the minrathous proving grounds :( thereâs also a dwarven embassy concept art somebody take me out back and shoot me
there are a lot of ghilanânain creature designs that didnât make it into the game which is a shame but i can see why they would have been resource heavy
the antiva concept arts are so gorgeous. a lot of it got through! and definitely the overall Vibe made it. at some point it seems to have been antiva city itself; they donât call it treviso and they mention the circle of magi as a major landmark
âThe entrance to the Necropolis is like an inverted Tower of Babel. They seek knowledge in the grave instead of heaven.â <- this just rules as a line
for arlathan: âTo differentiate it from previous forest and jungle locations in Dragon Age, we went with an autumnal colour palette. It has the benefit to feeling ominously like the end.â
the veil jumpers have a âskull hallaâ symbol that âimplies their willingness to risk deathâ. did that end up in the game?
âWith each faction, we explored a range of aspirational fantasies. For the Wardens, this ranged from knights in shining armour to butal tanks to a Nietzche quote: âBeware that, when fighting monsters, you yourself do not become a monster.ââ
thereâs this concept among the warden armours for an insane orlesian noblewoman look with the winter palace morrigan corset and a piled high wig, but the skirts torn knee length and a serrated fan in hand. iâm kind of obsessed
âTo bring more life to the world, we thought about what industries would keep the Anderfels afloat. We took the prominent Warden blue colour and envisioned an industry harvesting flowers, creating dye, and then weaving copious amounts of blue fabric.â this is probably where the flower quests in the hossberg wetlands started off conceptually? v cute
character stuff:
in completely different early versions of the game, solas had a âbad copâ right hand woman called reva
imshael the desire demon/choice spirit from the masked empire and inquisition was going to be a two-handed weapon warrior companion, and also sexualised now while in largely feminine form, which would have been a Choice. there is one art of him in masculine form, also sexy but still not showing as much skin as the feminine one
as i said, neve was going to be calpernia
taash was a rogue. (theyâre still a light-armoured dual wielder so that checks out.) it seems like davrin was briefly a mage. at some points harding seems to have inherited bianca
saarbrak, another qunari companion, seems to have lastest the longest of the abandoned concepts. heâs the only non-canon one who got as far as having a place for him sketched into designs of the lighthouse: âsaarbrakâs planning roomâ. mentions and sightings of what might be him are sporadic and i think you only see his name on that sketch, but iâm connecting it to the description âa potential qunari companion evolved from saarebas to dapper qunari spy, offering a deeper look into qunari cultureâ
the embroidery on hardingâs clothes is how she passes the time while âwaiting for days in a sniper perchâ on missions. i just thought that was cute
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"I'm curious about something."
Jason asked you one snowy November. You turned away from your computer to face him with a fond smile on your face. You were working on a case for him by researching the deceased and locating their soul to speak to the victim. He approached you and leaned against the desk. You asked,
"What's up, buttercup? What's on your pretty mind?"
You noticed his hand trying to hold yours, but you turn ghostly to prevent him from touching you. You're a grim reaper, one of several scattered throughout different continents, and very dead. Hurt flashes in his eyes, but he asks as casually as possible,
"Is it true about the embrace of death?"
Well, that's a new thought you didn't expect to hear him ask. You blinked in confusion before answering vaguely,
"I'm a Reaper, pretty boy. Consider me one of the Valkyries from Norse mythology; I'm here to guide souls to their specific place. I don't embrace or kiss the souls. Their soul is often already floating around when I get there. That's why some people experience after-death moments with loved ones. Grandma's last kiss, a child holding their mother's hand, parents embracing their newly orphaned children, little things like that."
You weren't sure how to explain your job in a way that makes sense for the living, but you tried. Jason seemed unsatisfied by your answer, so you asked kindly,
"What did you really want to know, my love?"
He frowned at your ghostly hand. Is it really too much to want to touch his partner? He paused and said after a beat of silence,
"I... want to hold your hand and kiss you, but you always pull away. I want to know why."
You gave him a sad look and softly admit,
"I've never touched a living soul since my death. I'm worried what will happen to you if I did touch you."
He grumbled and offered his father as a sacrificial lamb to find out what happens, but you laughed and softly said,
"If you can stomach Bruce being the first man to ever touch me post-mortem, I'll touch him."
You knew that wouldn't be the case. He huffed and pouted, but softly admitted,
"I want to be the first man you ever touch since your death."
You look at him seriously for a moment. You know Jason would drop the topic if you told him no, but part of you wanted to say yes. You weren't sure if you wanted to let this go. You want to hold his hand on a cold winter day and kiss him thousands of times to make up for lost time.
With great hesitation, you touched Jason's arm. He was warm against your timid hand and so muscular. You slowly run your hands along his arms while watching him carefully. You waited to see if he was feeling anything negative. You weren't sure if you felt his life force leaving him or his pulse racing under your hand as you held his wrist in your fingers.
Jason shivered under your light touch. You were freezing cold, but he didn't feel any different than he felt before. You looked in awe that you could touch a living soul without consequences, and he was so smug.
He had a feeling it would be okay to touch you. He thought it was adorable that you wanted to protect him from your ghostly touch, nonetheless. He was only 87% sure he would have been fine. He didn't know if you could turn your power on-and-off like he hoped and now knew was possible.
You hadn't known people could be this warm. You've been dead for so long, you had forgotten. Souls are cold, so you're never warm.
You grin at him and immediate pull him into a kiss. You could kiss him! His soul isn't being pulled out of him! You were ecstatic. Once you started, you found you couldn't stop.
You gave him thousands of kisses as he chuckled. He's never seen you so happy. You held both his hands in your scarred ones.
Your soul shines in happiness, which makes him grin. He loves you and loves the confirmation you loved him, too. Your soul tells him everything you're feeling, and he's never seen you this happy. It's reassuring to see your love for him pulsing throughout your ghostly spirit. It's like you couldn't keep it in.
Your eyes lit up at the new revolution. You were bursting with love and adoration. You tell him as you held his face in your hands,
"These hands are forever yours. You're going to be stuck with me now onwards."
He laughed at the serious tone and kissed your hands with a grin on his face. The lights in your apartment flicker in response to your happiness, but you can't help it. Your powers charge and pulse when you get emotional.
You murmur as you caress his face in your hands,
"I love you."
You run your fingers through his hair while he buries his face in your neck and wraps his arms around you.
"I know, pipsqueak."
He nips your neck playfully, partially surprised you let him. You kiss his forehead and draw him closer with your arms,
"Good. You deserve to know."
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Ok, so this is how I think it would work and I feel like youâre looking at this from the perspective that Danny is still a teenager. If heâs Ghost King (as the prompt says) than itâs already a huge stray from DP canon, anyway. But let me lay out some possibilities real quick.
I actually imagine Danny is probably in his 20s here, at the youngest. I doubt anyone would let him be Acting King before heâs as least an adult by the Livingâs standards. Letâs say, Mid 20s. Give him some time to have Been King for a few years.
In old fashioned monarchies itâs possible for a high enough ranking person in a group to represent that group to petition a ruling monarch. In this case, a respected enough ghost can represent the Jokers victims.
If we break it down into a trial:
The Jokers victims are the âWitnessesâ
The Representative is the âProsecutorâ
There would probably be someone high ranked in the Zone that doesnât think they should Interfere with any of the Livings problems. So thereâs our âDefenseâ who is only tangentially representing Joker.
With the Ghost King, Danny, acting as Judge. He may make a Jury of council members. Older ghost that he trusts. But ultimately, the final decision will have to come from Danny.
As for why Danny would be the one to hunt down Joker himself? Can you honestly say he would let one of the Ghost out to do so? The only ones I can see would be Fright Knight or Skullker and both a pretty intense and not really concerned with collateral damage. Plus, the need to keep his people safe from possible harm.
Danny being willing to kill also would make sense for the Joker Specifically. His numerous unsanctioned resurrections would be a violation of the balance between life and death. With his many murderus act being seen as overcompensating and Increasing the imbalance by the forces of the universe.
Even without Jokers victims coming forward to seek justice, Death of the Endless would probably ask Danny to solve the issue. Death would probably be considered the God of the Infinite Realms. As a primordial. And I actually think the Realms would be within her own domain, so Danny would still be the highest power Within the Realms but Death is still above him.
Plus, an older Danny thatâs been steeped in Ghost Politics for a few years would have learned very quickly that death isnât a big deal for them. Those that have died and resurrected have a higher chance of becoming ghost, so death isnât really The End for them.
Especially for the Joker because heâs died and come back so often. Heâs not a normal human anymore. The normal rules donât apply. Joker doesnât have anyone who will actually miss him either. No one to truly mourn him.
The most mourning anyone would be doing is Batman. Mourning the fact Joker never changed despite the many chances he had. And thatâs not really mourning Him, just who he could have been.
So, really, wouldnât it make sense for Danny to be the one to handle it. He would be somewhat desensitized to what death means for mortals, and Joker would be on his radar because a large group of his citizens (his people, his responsibility) would have brought him to his attention.
DPxDC Legal Power
Batman: You can not punish the Joker
Batman: You are no judge, jury, and executioner
Danny Fenton, standing over Joker's beaten body: Actually, I am
Danny Fenton, raising the Creep Stick up: I am the High King of Infinite Realms, and this bitch has been resurrected more than once
Danny Fenton, smacking Joker like a piñata: With the use of a pool of some nasty smelling ecto, mind you, but it puts him under my jurisdiction nonetheless
Danny Fenton, smiling at Batman as Joker is wheezing and trying to crawl away: So I am the judge, jury, and executioner for him since I'm the highest power in a Realm where he is a denizen
Danny Fenton, catching the Joker by the ankle and dragging him back: And as the King, I hereby sentence him to death by a repetitive use of The Creep Stick over his whole body
Batman: ...
Red Hood, with a bowl of popcorn: Do you mind switching The Creep Stick for a crowbar?
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Love like a Fool
Summary: I shouldnât known from the moment my heart felt more for Caitlyn, that it was a mistake. I thought love was supposed to be about taking risks and loving like a fool. I donât want to regret anything, but I have to limit myself because she feels uneasy. Is it because of me? I must be lacking in many ways. I promised myself to get better. I need to prove to others that I can. Â
Warning: Slight fluff then pure angstÂ
Pairing: Caitlyn Kiramman X Fem Reader
Word Count: 6.2k
-
The target moves back and forth in quick and uneven motion as a way to stimulate the movement of humans. I place the sniper rifle closer to my body. The cold metal pressed against my chest. I narrow my eyes at the target watching it jerk back and forth. I place my finger against the trigger as I start to steady my breathing. My heart rate begins to slow. The breeze in the air seems to be silent for a moment. My eyes quickly shift to focus on one target as it starts rolling toward the center of the scope. A loud bang comes from my gun as I press the trigger. The smell of gun smoke reaches my nose as the smoke rises from the nozzle. I lower the gun and tilt my body to examine the shot. A hole is evident on the target, but not where I was trying to aim. The bullet was several inches below the head of the target. I frown and feel disappointment arising from within.Â
I want to be better and prove to others that I can take on tougher tasks. Iâve been assigned as an enforcer, stuck with the simple role of Piltover's council gatekeeper. I want to be part of the bigger action, specifically, to be part of Caitlynâs team.Â
I know I am capable, or at least⊠I hope I am.Â
News spread that Caitlyn Kiramman has become a Sheriff and I couldnât agree more. She is amazing at her job. Iâve secretly studied her in admiration. I saw her in action. She is stern and confident, but at the same time so graceful. She balances fear and love so well. Her facade never falls to others, but I sense thereâs a softness in her gaze when she notices me. Itâs a quick and small look, so I canât put a finger on it. All I can do in response is smile back while feeling my cheeks heat up.Â
âPracticing again?â A voice snaps me out of daydreaming. A recognizable British accent. Refined and poised. I turn my head to see Caitlyn standing with her arms crossed. I widen my eyes before saluting her. She has a soft grinning smirk on her lips. Her beautiful long blue hair falls over her shoulders. Sheâs in her work uniform, seemingly that she just finished a task.Â
âYes,â I quickly respond to her question. She chuckles shortly and walks over, eyeing the target. She stops next to me, a little closer than I expected and I feel my heart rate increase. My eyes quickly flicker at the curves of her body then back down the ground in respect.Â
âYou practice quite a lot,â She notes. This isnât the first time Iâve bumped into her at the practice shooting area. Itâs actually quite often. Caitlyn is strict with her studies and skills. She needs to do things perfectly right. It is not strange to find her at the shooting range after work hours. She has gotten used to seeing me there as well. She never said it, but I believe she likes how Iâm willing to get better. She notices how other enforcers donât practice as much.
I shyly run my hand on the back of my neck. Her eyes glance down to watch my reaction. I peek between my eyelashes and make eye contact with her. The closeness and eye contact make me unconsciously grip the gun. I quickly look back down to the ground. Examining the distance between our shoes.Â
âI want to prove to others I can be good,â I finally admit. I didnât want to reveal the part where I dream of being in her team.Â
That would be too silly of a confession.Â
She raises her eyebrows and pauses, deep in thought. The wind gently blows against my bare skin as silence coats the air. I feel anxiety increasing while she continues to stare at me, motionless and speechless. Thereâs a shift in her eyes, a shift that I donât understand.Â
Does she think I canât be good? Is she too afraid to tell me the truth?Â
Thoughts swirl in my head naturally. Itâs a negative trait that I endure every day. My mind runs thousands of thoughts that can be entirely false. But I also believe certain voices are true, but I have yet to distinguish the two. I furrow my eyebrows and force myself to look away from her. I couldnât bear to continue to theorize what her expression meant. I hear her shift her body to lean her body weight against the bullet-loading table.Â
âI can help you,â She offers. I feel my heart stop pounding to make sure I didnât hear her wrong. I jerk my head up with wide eyes. Caitlyn, the best sniper shooter, is going to help me.Â
âAre you serious?â I hesitate. What did I do to deserve this special treatment from her? She simply nods and a few hair strands fall over her face. She smiles while brushing her bangs behind her ear. I am still speechless, not knowing what to do next. She figures and gently reaches for my gun. Her fingers curl around the handle, a few centimeters from my hand. She brings it up to my chest. I look at her in confusion yet again.Â
âShow me how you aim,â She orders. I lick my lips and move quickly to action. I do not want to waste a single second of getting trained by her. I turn my body to the targets and lift the gun up. I lean my head down to look through the scope. Suddenly I feel Caitlyn move her body to locate behind me. Her fingers gently tilt the tip of the gun at a specific angle. Her other hand moves to my hip. Like a young girl in love, my heart pounds hard. I would also blame the fact that I am touched starved. Working as an enforcer limits the time I can spend romanticizing with others. People also avoid me. I am no one special, I like to believe.Â
This is far from romantic. I know she doesnât like me, but with her body heat pressing against me. I canât help it. Itâs quite embarrassing.Â
âYou should stand more straight,â She corrects. I shiver at the realization of how close her lips are to my ears. The distance sends chills down my body. No amount of daydreaming can make up for this moment. I shallow away my emotions and straighten my back. I feel myself press against her chest.Â
âSlow down your heartbeat and breathing,â She chuckles. My cheeks start warming.Â
âSorry,â I squeak. She doesnât respond, but instead continues to coach. She removes her hand from my hip and grips my shoulders. She reminds me to tighten my muscles and grip. Once she is satisfied with my position, she removes herself and stands back. I secretly let out a breath of relief. If she continued pressing her body against me, I wouldn't be able to perform accurately. That was the last thing I wanted to do in front of her.Â
âNow focus and calculate the timing,â She orders. I close my eyes to calm my breathing. When I feel my heartbeat going at a steady pace, I open my eyes. My sight completely focuses on the target.Â
I need to get this right. I have to impress Caitlyn.Â
My attention zooms into a specific target and I press into the trigger. Another loud bang echoes into the sky. I let out a shaky breath of anticipation. I immediately lower my gun to look at the target. I guess my hope was too high. The bullet hole was a few centimeters from the head. Better than before, but not perfect.Â
Not perfect enough for Caitlyn.Â
My shoulders slowly drop and I feel anxious thoughts creeping up again. I frown and look at her nervously. I donât know what to expect. To my surprise, she seems sort of proud.Â
âGood job,â She compliments.Â
-
A couple of months of training have passed faster than I realize. I am surprised at how long she agreed to train me. No one else has gotten this special treatment. Even though there are times when sheâs tired from a mission, she would still show up. As time went on it wasn't just training anymore. We would go out to eat dinner or a picnic on a sunny day. Not only have my skills increased, but my crush on her did as well. I spent too much time with her to not develop deeper feelings. I didnât want to. I wanted things professional, just in case I ruined things.Â
The more time we spent together, the more people talked about us. Baseless rumors begin to spread. I didnât want to hear it, but people spoke loudly- as if I wasnât there. They all picture me as someone who manipulated her way to Caitlyn. That I am nothing special. I have no rich or authoritative name for myself. No one knew who I was until I started involving myself with her.Â
I thought these accusations would cause Caitlyn to stay away from me. Sheâs everything Iâm not. After all, she has an image to keep. I do not want to stain it.Â
But, she never stopped.Â
Caitlyn started to teach me about combat. She wanted to enhance not only my shooting skills but my fighting as well. Â
So here we are, standing on the mat with our fists up. I suck in a deep breath as sweat begins collecting on my neck. I feel a slight painful sore developing on my stomach from her punch that I failed to block. She gestures a finger at me to make the first move. I launch myself to her and she swiftly dodges and elbows my back. I grunt and stumble on my footing. I gather myself, not wanting to give up and turn to face her. Her eyes hint with glee when she notices a shift in my face. I clench my jaw and focus on her moves. Then I saw it. A small opening where I can tackle her. I rush forward, grabbing her arm. She lets out a gasp in surprise before I hurl her onto the ground. I quickly pin her onto the ground by locking my thighs around her wrist.Â
I smiled brightly, my eyes sparkling. I finally did it. Her chest moves up and down quickly as she gets lost in my joy. She places her elbow onto the ground to support half her body up. I continued smiling, unaware of the plan she had in mind.Â
She leans her head closer, testing the waters. Her lips linger over mine before she pulls back a little. Her heavy-lidded eyes gaze up. My smile begins to slowly drop in realization. I gulp and a blush appears on my cheeks. Her eyes flicker from my lips and back to my eyes. I hesitate, not knowing what to do, but I lean forward. Eager to capture her lips, but afraid to make the first move. She gently smiles, understanding my actions before closing the distance.
 Her soft lips pressed against mine. I squeeze my eyes shut and clench my fist. She brings her hands up to touch my cheeks. Her thumbs draw a circle while her soft lips continue to move. I lean deeper into the kiss, wanting to permanently remember this moment forever. All my anxious thoughts seem to be silent just for a short moment. She is the first to pull away from the kiss. Leaning her forehead against mine. I place my hand over hers and smile.Â
Caitlynâs eyes suddenly become stern and she pulls her body away. My mind races in worry. I furrow my eyebrows while looking at her in confusion.Â
âIâm sorry,â She apologizes. I shake my head slowly, trying to understand.Â
Was the kiss a mistake? Did I do something wrong?Â
âIâŠâ I hesitate. I worry about my next words. I worried that she would push herself away if I said the wrong things. I wanted to confess my feelings, but I was afraid I would embarrass myself if she said it was a mistake. I wanted to tell her it was okay, but I feared she would think I didnât feel anything. A part of me was so terrified that she did feel something for me, but the kiss awakened a realization in her.Â
I never got the chance to gather my thoughts before she got up. I try to reach out and grab her wrist, but she hurries away.Â
âIâm sorry. Iâll⊠see you sometime again,â She says before disappearing. I feel my eyes begin to water. My anxious thoughts may be right this time. As much as I try to think of a different conclusion, my negativity chokes up any other possible reasoning.Â
-
Caitlyn avoided me. Every time she sees me walking by, she turns in the other direction. I try to force a smile. Understanding that she may be struggling with her thoughts. All I can do for her is to wait. I need to understand that Iïżœïżœïżœm not enough for her. After several more days, I thought she had forgotten me. I went to my regular shooting range hoping to bump into her, but she never showed up.Â
As I walk with my head down, I see a pair of shoes stop in front of me. I can immediately recognize her shoes. Caitlyn had blocked my walking pathway. I jerk back in surprise before examining her in confusion. Her eye circles are dark and her hair is messy. It seems like she has been lacking sleep. She licks her lips and plays with her fingers. I stand silent with a pounding heart, waiting for her to speak. She lets out a breath and I brace myself for the worst.Â
âIâm sorry I avoided you,â She begins. I pause for a moment as her words sink. I summon my confidence by clenching my fist. My lips waver as I try to smile at her. I wasnât actually happy, but I wanted to show her I appreciated her stepping up. I understand why she would want to avoid me.Â
âItâs okay,â I answer, a little shaky for my liking. She glances around the hall as I assume sheâs making sure no one else is around. A few people walk by, giving me an unexplainable stare. I tilt my head to the side to avoid peopleâs eyes. She then grabs my hand and tugs me along with her. I stumble on my footsteps to catch up with her. She pulls us into a dark room and slams the door. She breathes heavily, her chest moving up and down before turning to face me again. I stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. I can still see her figure with the small lamp in the corner.Â
âI⊠I think I like you,â She confesses like the truth has been choking her to death. It's as if itâs a surprise that someone like her could be interested in someone like me. She stared at me with a scared expression like she didnât fully understand herself. I feel my heart ache, but I force a smile again.Â
Sheâs been struggling because of me.Â
I opened my mouth to speak, but I realized I couldnât say anything.Â
âI donât know what to say,â I admit. I shift my body weight uncomfortably. My hands come up to wrap themselves around me. A poor attempt to comfort myself. She pushes herself from the door and walks over to me. She hesitates a little, before reaching down to touch my hands. I stare at the way her fingers hold mine. Sheâs so gentle.Â
âI want to try and love you,â She pauses, âbut we have to do it in secret,âÂ
I tilt my head up to look at the sincerity in her eyes. I can tell she is worried. Wondering how people would view her if they found out she was meeting up with someone lowly like me. Debating if this reveal would hurt my feelings. Itâs a little humorous that she doesnât know the lengths I would go for her.Â
I tightened my grip on her hands and tugged her a little closer. I examine the beauty that reflects off the orange light. Sheâs a beautiful woman worthy of respect and care. I remove one hand from her hold and place it on her cheeks. She leans into the touch, letting out a shaky breath.Â
âI would do anything for you,â I confess like a fool in love. Her eyes dilate and she lets out a sigh of relief. Her shoulders relax as she finally smiles.
-
I never thought how much more I could fall for Caitlyn. I love her. I didnât care about the hidden touches behind doors. The secret messages we pass. It was our love that I couldnât regret. We completely ignore each other when passing by in the halls. Oh, how I wish I could shout to the world about her. Rumors between her and I have successfully died out.Â
I wait patiently in my room, waiting for the skies to become darker so that Caitlyn can sneak her way over. I hear quiet quick knocks on the door. I stumble my way over and swing the door open. She stands with a shy smile on her face. I quickly grab her wrist and tug her in, slamming the door behind me.Â
I pull her into a hug, soaking in her warmth and scent. She hugs back with the same amount of eagerness. We stay silent for a few more seconds before I pull away.
âAre you hungry?â I ask as I walk to the kitchen, âI can start preparing-âÂ
She calls my name, cutting me off. I stop in my tracks to look at her. She seems hesitant again, her eyes wavering. A look that brings me back to the day we stood in the dark room.Â
âI have to tell you something,â She explains. She starts walking to the coach and I follow along. I sit down, my knees brushing against hers. She reaches over to touch my hand with a stern look.Â
âI got put on a very important case,â She says. I widen my eyes and smile.Â
âWell, thatâs great news right?â I chirp. She lets out a nervous laugh. Her gaze averts to the side for a brief second. My smile begins to drop slightly.Â
âIt is⊠but I have to be gone for a year,â She reveals.
âA year?â I repeat slowly. My grip starts to loosen from her hold. I shouldnât be scared, but there is a part of me that worries. So much can happen in a year.Â
âItâs a mission to go to the undercity and-â
I start to zone out. Undercity? That place is filled with horror stories. No sane person dares to step foot in there. At least that was how I was taught by others. I canât imagine myself letting Caitlyn go down there. Itâs just not safe.Â
She squeezes my hands and I look back at her. My face is mixed with many emotions. I should not stop her from doing her job, but I donât want her gone for a year in Undercity. What if she gets hurt and I canât find her? How can I make a decision when I am unsure of myself?Â
âCan you wait for me?â She whispers.Â
The decision has already been made.Â
I squeeze my eyes shut as I turn my head to the side. I didnât want her to see me cry. She places her hands on my cheeks and slowly turns me to face her. I feel the warmth of her hands.Â
ââŠwhen do you leave?â I sniff.Â
âTomorrow morning,â She responds. Time seems to pause for a moment. I wish it stayed like that; so that I could stay by her side longer. Tomorrow? This is so soon and sudden. I searched in Caitlynâs eyes to find some type of hesitation, but there was nothing. I force myself to smile as my heart feels crushed. Nothing is going to stop her, not even my feelings. I understand that feelings alone canât dictate her decision, but I wish it was considered just a little bit more.Â
Did she really care about how I would feel? Did I not cross her mind when she accepted the mission? Do I matter that little?Â
All the anxious thoughts blew away when Caitlyn pulled me in for a hug. How foolish am I to disregard my hurt so fast for her? Love makes a person a fool.Â
-
Five months have passed since Caitlyn left to go to the Undercity. I have gotten used to the feeling of being alone. This feeling is rather normal and something I am more familiar with. I still keep my duties of guarding the gates of the council building. Days and days of people not sparing me a second glance as they walk by. I sometimes wonder if they would even notice if I didnât show up one day.Â
I keep the house clean. Making sure Caitlynâs extra clothes are tucked neatly in my closet, ready for the day she comes back. When I lay in bed, I close my eyes and place my hand on the side where she usually lays. I imagine she is next to me. Humming and running her fingers through my hair. I smile for a moment, then frown when I realize Iâm daydreaming again. Itâs awfully cold without her touch.Â
11 months have passed and I feel impatient for her return. The picture I keep on the desk lacks dust by how many times Iâve touched it. Running my fingers across her face to remind myself of how soft her skin feels. My heart squeezes when I examine the bright smile that the camera captures. I gently place the picture down and lean my head against the cold surface of the desk.Â
Just a little more. I can wait, just like how she asked me to do. A simple task. I can do it.Â
-
1 year and 1 month has passed. Anxiety eats away my skin as I scratch the surface with my nails. The councils ordered a one-month expansion, just in case Caitlyn had something important to do before they sent out a search for her. The enforcers are starting to become worried at the lack of her appearance.Â
The councils issue a meeting to form a team of three of the best enforcers. I stand by the door with a racing heart, listening to the councils talk amongst themselves. They list off the best enforcers on documents. The back of my neck starts to feel hot. My feet feel the urge to step forward. I must go to find my love. I find myself walking forward recklessly.
âI apologize for my unprofessional behavior, but please allow me to join the team,â My voice clashes and silences the room. I glance around to see the confused look on their faces. They had no idea I was there.Â
âAnd who are you?â One of the council's questions. They rub their fingers together with an amused smile. I bow down to show my respect. I tell them my name and title, with a shaky voice. Thereâs another pause again, til I hear someone snicker. That causes a domino effect where they all start to laugh. I bite my bottom lip as an embarrassing blush forms on my cheeks. My eyes water, tears forming at the edge. I turn my head down to stare at the floor. They question me and my motives:
âI never even noticed her there,â
âWhat can a gatekeeper do?â
âI admire how much courage that little girl has,â
âWhy are you so concerned?â Mrs. Kirammanâs question sounds the clearest among the others. I tilt my head up to look at her. The truth feels like acid in my throat. Caitlyn had asked me to keep our relationship a secret. I must keep the promise. Itâs not like it was hard to do so. I fully understand now why Caitlyn wanted it that way. They donât take me seriously. I am just a laughing stock at this moment. I canât dirty her name.Â
I lick my trembling lips and shake my head.Â
âI-I just want to-â
âIâm sorry dear, but we have an important discussion to do. The fate of my daughter relies on someone who can actually save her. Return to your position,â Mrs. Kiramman orders. I choke back my words. The little courage I have left vanishes. I quickly bow once more before walking back to my place. They return back to their conversation as normal, while I fight back tears. The uniform feels hot and stuffy against my skin. I feel unworthy of wearing the enforcer gear.Â
The moon appears bright in the sky as I sneak my way down the streets. I tug my hoodie closer to hide my face as I make my way to the Undercity. I am going to search for Caitlyn on my own.Â
The air starts to become more dense. I have never been here before. I can feel my anxious heart beating rapidly. A few strangers study me as I walk by. I grip my jacket closer to my body, avoiding their eyes. My footsteps quicken with one solid plan in mind.Â
Find Caitlyn.Â
I didnât care how reckless I was being. Walking into the Undercity with no solid plan. I canât even confidently say I can protect myself. Anything can happen to me before I can even find her.Â
After walking for several minutes I realized how big this city is. I canât just simply bump into her. I desperately look around to find someone that looks the least threatening. The task was harder to do than I expected. Most of the people are drunk or hunching their bodies as they are ready to launch forward. I scan more until I find a young boy. Innocent eyes with a few dirt marks scuffed on his cheeks. I walk to him, trying not to scare him off. He seems hesitant at first before I take my hoodie off to show my face. His shoulders visually relax. I kneel down to eye level with him.Â
âHi, can you help me find someone?â I whisper. His eyes dart around then back to me. He doesnât respond. I shuffle around in my pocket to find money. Once I pull it out his eyes brighten. He quickly nods his head in agreement.Â
âCan you help me find Caitlyn Kiramman? She is about this tall,â I stand to gesture her height, âshe has blue hair and a sharp nose,âÂ
I try my best to describe her to him. I hoped that the description was enough for him. Caitlyn doesnât look like she belongs in the Undercity. It must be easy to locate her.Â
The young boy ponders for a moment before his eyes brighten. He places his hand out and motions me to hand the cash. I place it on top of his hand and he quickly puts it in his pocket. He gestures to me to follow along, his little footsteps patter on the ground. It took about several minutes before he paused and pointed down the street. I tilt my head to examine the low-light street.Â
âSheâs there?-â I ask, but the little boy has already run off. I softly chuckle before composing myself. My heart quickens and the sound of my breathing is loud due to how quiet the streets are. I stand still for a moment to evaluate the setting. Thatâs when I hear a gentle giggle.Â
A giggle that sends a wave of crashing memories. My eyes begin to water as I hear the sound again. Itâs Caitlyn. I am sure of it. I silently follow the sound. I hear another voice, but canât make out who it could be. Maybe Caitlyn made a friend while she was staying here. The sound leads me to a tunnel with stairs.Â
I hide beside the walls and peek up the tunnel. There in the middle of the stairs is Caitlyn with another woman. My eyes widen in joy. Butterflies flutter in my stomach as I canât contain my excitement. I found her! Sheâs alive and well! I open my mouth to excitedly shout her name, but quickly stop.Â
Caitlyn places her hands on the womanâs hip, pulling her closer. She giggles again, biting the bottom of her lip. The woman sweetly smiles and leans her head closer. She kisses Caitlyn slowly, running her hands down her waist.Â
Overwhelming sorrow sinks deep within me. My eyes become glossy, blurring my vision of them. My hand jerks up to grip my chest. It squeezes and pounds in pain. I never knew my heart could physically hurt. I gasp for air as I feel like Iâm about to collapse. I lose my footing for a moment, sliding against the wall. I place a hand on the cold wall to hold myself.
I hear Caitlyn softly calling out my name in confusion. I quickly blink to clear my vision. Caitlyn walks down the stairs till she stands in front of me. She stares at me with a shocked expression. I feel myself forcing a stupid smile again. I squeeze my chest to numb the pain again.Â
ââŠHi,â I choke out. A failed attempt to sound happy. Her eyebrows furrow as she shakes her head. Â
âWhat are you doing here?â She asks. I want to cry out laughing. How can she ask that question? Itâs been longer than a year, did she lose track of time? Was she too busy?Â
âWho is this?â The woman beside her asks. Caitlyn's eyes move back and forth anxiously.Â
ââŠSheâs just an enforcer,â Caitlyn reveals. I furrow my eyebrows in despair and disgust. Iâm just an enforcer to her?Â
Was all the lovely touches nothing to her? Did the day she cried on my lap mean nothing? Whose name did she moan out when I touched her?Â
Without thinking I march up to her to push her. At least something to express my hurt, but the woman steps in front and shoves me hard. I slam against the wall and let out a small grunt. I already feel small and pathetic against her strength.Â
âWait, stop,â Caitlyn hurries to stop the woman. I peek up from my watery eyelashes, breathing heavily.Â
âSheâs lying,â I quietly laugh. The woman clenches her fist and walks up to me. She grabs a fistful of my jacket around my neck. I try clawing at her hands, but it was no use. She forces me to look at her.Â
âWho are you?â She hisses again. A tear rolls down my cheeks. I would wipe it off, but my hand is wrapped around hers. I painfully smile again.Â
âHer secret lover,â I choke out. I donât have to keep it in anymore. The weight lifts off my shoulders. I had always wished the reveal was going to be for something better, nicer, and more beautiful. Yet we are here in the cold night air as I gasp for air. I take a peek at Caitlyn to see her face scrunch in guilt. The woman let go of me. I suck in a deep breath while sliding down to the ground. I grip my throat and tug the collar of my jacket away. I feel too suffocated by everything.Â
I collect myself as much as I can before standing up again. I try to reach out and touch Caitlyn, but I pause and hesitate. My hands are shaking. I quickly bring it back to my chest to stop it from shaking so much. I lick my lips and look at her with pleading eyes.Â
âI came to look for you,â I explain.Â
âWhy?âÂ
Why?Â
âYou were gone for more than a year! I was left wondering if you got hurt! I got worried,â I cry out. Caitlyn shifts her footing uncomfortably. She avoids my eyes by looking around.Â
âCaitlynâŠwhy are you being like this?â My voice cracks. The way she is treating me hurts so much. I donât feel valued or special. As if⊠Iâm just a nobody, just like how everyone else viewed me. I thought I was different to her.Â
âPlease talk to me!â I beg. A tear escaped from my eyes as I wept. I clench my chest to hold myself. She breathes heavily while her eyes dart around. She looks worried and guilty.Â
âWas it because of her,â I direct it towards the woman, who scuffs in response. Caitlyn doesnât reply. I take a step towards the woman, not understanding my actions. She clenches her jaw and rotates her wrist to get ready. Her eyes glisten against the street lights. Possession and challenge are evident on her face. I can tell she wants to fight me for Caitlyn.Â
I am not backing down. Iâve trained hard for this.Â
She swings her fist at me, but I dodge it. I launch my body to collapse her, but she wraps her arm around my waist. She elbows my back hard til I let go. She swings again and knocks the left side of my cheek. I stumble back and yelp in pain. I bring my hand up to cup my throbbing cheek. She is so quick and strong. With just one punch it sent me backward. I glare at her nervously.Â
âGiving up so easily?â The woman laughs. I spit blood out my mouth and stand up again. She flickers her fingers to motion me forward. I swing my fist and she dodges, allowing her a clear shot at my stomach. I grunt and stumble back again. I gained my balance and I ran to her again, swinging recklessly. She punches my face near my nose. Pain shoots down my spine. I fall down and immediately grip my nose. Blood flows out and onto my hands. My chest moves up and down fast. I want to cry, but I choke it back when I look at Caitlyn. She stands with a worried look. She looks at me and the woman, pondering who she should care for more.
I need to prove I can be better. I need to show her I can protect her. I stumble to my feet, wiping my bloody nose with the back of my hand.Â
The woman launches and lands a few punches on my face and stomach. I am gasping for air as I try to keep up. I try to swing to at least land one hit, but she easily dodges. Caitlyn watches me get beat up over and over. She looks away, clenching her eyes shut.
I failed her.Â
I collapse onto the ground, choking out blood. Wheezing for air painfully. I knew I looked pitiful. Bruised, bloody, and crying. The woman looked untouched. I just embarrassed myself in front of Caitlyn. I try to get myself back up, but the pain pierces throughout my body. I stumble and fall again. I end up kneeling, my hands weak by my side. The woman tries to come to me again, but Caitlyn stops her by shoving her back. She begs her to stop hitting me.Â
No, it shouldnât have been this way. I needed to win to get her back. She canât be the one begging for mercy. I had to be the winner. I canâŠÂ
I look down and watch my warm blood drip down onto the ground. Realization settles in my stubborn mind.Â
I canât protect her with these weak skills. I lost.Â
Caitlyn's eyes shift and darken. She grips her fist and glares at me. She is angry that I am trying so hard to win her. That I allow myself to get beat up so badly knowing I canât win- a fool so in love with her. I look up through my puffy and bloody eyes. I smile, feeling my lips crack open.Â
âIâm sorry,â I wept. She forces herself to look away as tears roll down her face. Words continue to pour out from my lips.Â
âIâm sorry I am not strong enough.
Iâm sorry if⊠I ever embarrassed you.
I understand why you wanted us to be a secret⊠why you left and found someone who can protect you.Â
I tried so hard to prove myself, but whatâs the point anymore⊠I just simply canât.Â
People are right about me. They always were⊠and deep inside you knew it.âÂ
Tears continually roll down my cheeks. I could no longer fake a smile anymore. How can I put on a facade when I am evidently broken and weak? I bring my hands to my heart. An attempt to shield and comfort myself. My body shakes as I cry. I canât blame her for hurting me. My understanding and naive heart is a curse made to ruin me. I loved too much and recklessly. Itâs my fault.
Caitlyn brings a hand up to her mouth to silence her cries. She shakes her head. Millions of emotions crash in her mind, but she can't speak it out. Itâs too late. She can not undo the mistakes she has made.Â
The damage had already been made the moment she laid eyes on you.Â
#arcane is such a good show#because the show is allergic to happiness i decided to write angst#caitlyn x reader#caitlyn kiramman x reader#angst#caitlyn kiramman#reader insert#female reader#this is my first time writing angst (I'm trying it out)#i admit theres not enough angst writing we need more#caitlyn arcane#arcane#lgbt#caitlyn kiramman x you#arcane s2#fem reader#x reader#fanfic#Caitlyn kiramman angst#Caitlyn angst#arcane fanfic#caitlyn fanfic#angst fanfic
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no joke social media and specifically instagram has fried our brains and the blurring of the boundaries between regular people and famous people has made us all hold ourselves to the same standards of the WEALTHY and itâs not normal!! đ like everyone has an aesthetic or a brand and everything is perfectly curated for public consumption. but at least like for famous people thatâs literally a part of their job and they are compensated well for it. for us regular people itâs literally just another way to make our lives more difficult LOL
#even like the luxury holidays and staying in a beautiful hotel room#and buying designer etc#is crazy bc this stuff is gifted for the rich and itâs our money that subsidises that loool#and yet we do it bc they do it like that makes sense#and donât get me started on like filters and the obsession with looking perfect#who exactly are we performing for ??#same thing for dating like your partner has to look a certain way and provide certain things#demonstrate romance in a very specific way#or itâs not enough!
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What's a good place online to get decent-quality yarn at a reasonable price?
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Knitpicks.
Assuming you want wool and that kind of thing, your idea of reasonable is box store prices, and you're in the US. They regularly have amazing sales too, on top of the already-low prices.
The snobbier you are, the more you'll need to look for other people's destashes. I was just at a reuse place today and they happened to just have gotten in some nicer-than-usual yarn with the labels still on.
The ideal is to find someone's grandma who is drowning in her stash or, better yet, someone with a dead grandma and no interest in knitting who needs to dump a bunch of yarn fast. But, of course, it depends if you're the kind of knitter who finds that inspiring or if you just want the correct yarn to use on a project you've already picked out.
I got some Wool of the Andes worsted early in my current phase of knitting, and it's quite nice, especially for the price. I'm currently trying out some of the sport weight because I have a specific Christmas sweater that needs it. I'm finding it scratchier and less nice, but I haven't blocked it yet, so we'll see. The whole Wool of the Andes line is beloved by thrifty knitters.
If you're willing to do some work and you like an adventure, unraveling a thrift store sweater is by far the most cost effective way to get a big lot of yarn. You can check the tag for fiber content. Some of these yarns will be rather thin, so you might hold them double or even triple for hand knitting.
For me personally, it usually makes more sense to chase super deep discounts on ultra premium stuff and then see what I can figure out with the yardage I end up with. It's really going to depend on you and your priorities. If you're longing for cashmere, it makes way more sense to try the thrift store approach. If you have a very specific Christmas colorwork pattern, Knitpicks or the like is probably a better bet. I got a big lot from fabulousyarn.com once when I needed that exact yarn. They seem fine. I don't know a lot about these big online stores, but there are a few of them, and they tend to have good deals.
You also have to consider whether you're going to be able to get continental US shipping (probably free from a US store) or not.
Anyone have thoughts on this?
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I actually have a lot of different ways of interpreting this so that it makes sense when Iâm reading the comics or engaging in the fandom.
So like, post-crisis Bruce is shown to constantly insinuate or even just fully say that he believes- because of Jasonâs parentage and criminal history- that left to his own devices, Jason would become a criminal and thatâs why he âhasâ to take him in and train him as Robin but then in Batman #416 (I love this issue) Dick shows up and is all like âwtf I leave and u just get another one?? what happened to âI canât keep putting a kid in dangerâ?? why??â and then Bruce responds in the following:
and like sure Jason was angry as Robin but is that not the path of Robin?? but THEN!! and this is the important part to me!!!
So I like to imagine that Bruceâs referring to Jason as an angry violent kid is just the same coping mechanism he fell back on in the 80âs!!! Heâs just hiding his feelings and trying not to drown in his guilt by defending his actions behind a specific rhetoric!! Jason isnât actually the angry Robin, heâs just been made to be perceived that way ( I could also say that Jason is the angry Robin, but only because he never got to grow farther into the Robin role like the others. Could also be a âif youâre going to keep expecting this from me, I might as well deliverâ situation!! ) or at least thatâs how I see it for it to make sense to me!! Iâm sure there are reasons that go against this logic and things iâve said but idk man comics r hard
Modern Batman comics talking about when Jason Todd was Robin: He was brutal. Unstable. I should've seen the signs... done a better job of training him... raising him...
When Jason Todd was actually Robin:
#this isnât anti bruce wayne btw heâs my bbg snd i love him#and also yeah heâs jsut a little guy heâs the littlest of guys heâs literally so small#this is post crisis iâm still reading his pre crisis stuff so donât qoute me#also this entire post is jsut my opnion i am not an expert nor saying what im saying is canon im making shit up based on the information i#have#not batman reblogs
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tick tock goes the clock [ status: closed ]
the receipt
the review log
hello, my friends/followers! as i promised my generous friends that supported readings this year and thus helped me to buy a new deck - which arrived this week - i am hosting an ask game. thank you so much to everyone who has been supporting my blog this year from likes to follows to reblogs. i truly appreciate each and everyone of you! i also appreciate everyone who has purchased a reading from me and thus paid for my cerulean sequence deck!!
please follow the rules (listed below) to participate ->
i. you must be following me.
ii. reblog or like this post.
iii. only one ask per account! secondary asks regarding the game will be deleted.
iv. send the emoji that corresponds with the reading you want and your initials.
v. tell me a goal of yours for the upcoming new year is OR give me a post idea (it will not count if you give me a hyper specific astrology placement - as a reminder i no longer do free consultations on astrology placements).
vi. asks that are missing the above requirements will receive a response of "game request denied".
vii. please be patient! i'm working full time, so i don't have a lot of time to sit down and do back to back readings (you can dm me and ask if yours ask sent or where you are in my queue - but please don't spam me as it won't make the process go faster, it will actually slow me down because i am answering you instead of answering asks). i will leave the game open for the week or until i reach 50 asks!
viii. feedback is greatly appreciated, but not required - it's always good to know if my intuition and interpretation of the cards was accurate (especially since it is a new deck and i am not sure if it vibes with me yet).
game options ->
đ°ïž CLOCK đ°ïž
the number and message that you need to hear and remember as the year 2024 comes to a close - it will be relevant in the final days of this year.
âš STARS âš
what comes naturally to you and what will need attention as 2024 comes to an end.
đȘ© DISCO BALL đȘ©
tell me about something going on in your life this year - i will describe the beginning the middle, and how it will end according to the cards.
đ¶ MUSIC đ¶
you and a song you must listen to. what is going to change for you in 2025. what i sense you want most. and what is something you won't be able to control in 2025.
đŸ POP đŸ
the start of 2025. the end of 2024. what will change for you in 2025. what work you will have to do. and the end result of your 2024 at this moment in time.
đ„ CHAMPAGNE đ„
a love reading (please send their initials as well as yours). you. them. together. apart. your differences. and your desires.
#astrology#astro community#astrology tumblr#astro notes#tarot art#tarot witch#free tarot#tarot deck#daily tarot#tarot reading#tarot cards#pick a card#reading#numerology#111#222#333#444#555#666#777#888#999#000#cerulean sequence#oracle cards#game
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I've got to say, it's a very strange feeling, becoming the sort of person that is in the exact target audience for Buttercup Festival.
Like, this thing has been running for decades, since 2000 if you believe wikipedia, and it got around without ever being really discussed explicitly by people I know. The strips always drifted past me every now and then without incident- neither offensive nor inoffensive, a bit puzzling at times.
And then... something? Something in me, not in the strip, that much is clear enough. But now I just love these little things to death, on a good day it's competitive with Calvin and Hobbes or something else really top-tier.
And it's just bizarre, you know? They certainly don't rely on what you'd traditionally call humor, and even when there's a belly laugh it's not because there was anything like a joke per se. But if I try to explain to people what it is that makes the strip work, I just come up with all these ridiculous sentences that may or may not mean anything.
So I went from not getting the strips at all, and just walking past them without registering their presence, to really enjoying them and considering them one of my favorite comics ever, without once passing through a moment in time where I understood what made them so poignant. Just bouncing between two very different kinds of ignorance.
And that's interesting in itself, no? One kind of wants to reason through one's aesthetic preferences. I know I do. I suppose, on the grounds that I want to reason through everything. But my experience with Buttercup Festival seems determined to resist that treatment, at least so far.
Jokes as an art form are rather interesting- they get a laugh out of us before we know why they're funny, and discussions about humor tend to be unsatisfying after the fact. Explaining a joke doesn't make it any funnier, and the experience of 'funny' itself can't really be explained. Most forms of art, you can develop a deeper appreciation of the form by breaking it down in to specific shapes and methods and styles, and find new layers of beauty as you explore the structure of it. But it seems like laughter doesn't follow the same path, exactly.
Jokes aren't necessarily the only thing with this kind of structure. The koan, also, is supposed to open something to the student without any intervening explanation or analytical framework. Like a good joke, a koan often don't seem to make any damn sense at all, and like a good joke, a koan is often quite short. So that's two examples.
So there's this tricky thing where there's a class of experiences that seems to resist explanation, and we mostly encounter it through humor, but it's not actually limited to humor per se. I don't think I have the slightest idea where the contours of that thing are, or how to explore it, even though it's quite beautiful.
I don't think it's meaningless either, even though it sort of challenges the usual ways we define that term. I don't know how deep it goes, though it's much deeper than I expected. And you can grow in it over time, either because of certain experiences or certain insights or... I don't know. It wasn't signposted. I just kinda woke up here one day.
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the protagonists of the broken code. who's rootspring
i am tbc's number 1 hater! negative thoughts below
shadowsight: other characters sometimes acknowledge that he was manipulated by ashfur, but the narrative puts all of the blame for the ashfur situation on him, neglecting that (a) he did exactly what he was supposed to do as a healer (obey and take messages from a starclan cat), and (b) the codebreaker hysteria was far more a product of clan culture than the actions of a single apprentice. he isn't treated like the victim that he is, and it is frustrating and not cathartic.
bristlefrost: what the hell does she even do. what does her spy arc accomplish or contribute (like mother, like daughter). she finds out that bramblestar isn't bramblestar far too early. she's so perfect and she has no flaws and she's so empty. i want her to be worse. how much more interesting would she be if she was sneaky and selfish? if she was loyal to the imposter because she truly believed in what he was saying? not to mention how she reciprocates rootspring's feelings with literally zero warning, and ceases to have what little character she'd had to begin with. i genuinely don't care that she dies, they did nothing to make her an engaging character. miss bristlefrost, i'm sorry they did you so bad.
rootspring: first rootpaw thinks he's weird because of his father. i hate this because i hate tree. later, rootpaw thinks he's weird because he can see ghosts. so they give him this "i just want to be normal" deal, and the clans suddenly pretend that ghosts are silly and not real. sure, rootspring and tree are the first clan cats with this specific power. and i get that the clans have very rigid beliefs, and they are afraid of anything that contradicts those beliefs, and that's interesting! but ghosts have been appearing to clan cats all the way back to tpb. fireheart tries to kill clawface at one point and he senses spottedleaf's spirit beside him, there to avenge her death. so rootspring's issue is stupid and he's nothingburger to me.
bramblestar: the arc really depends on me giving a shit about what happens to him. which i don't.
i think bramblestar is unintentionally a bad person and a great character. he proves himself by rejecting tigerstar, but he's still deeply insecure. he makes mistake after mistake (conspiring with tigerstar; hesitating to save firestar from the fox trap; forsaking his children after finding out they're not biologically his; using his power over squirrelflight as a warrior, deputy, and leader to control her), and for none of these mistakes is he held accountable (no thunderclan cat except leafpool learns that he plotted with tigerstar; he is allowed to remain deputy; his children think he was the best father ever; in every situation, squirrelflight seems to bear the consequences of his actions).
in other words, bramblestar gets chance after chance to redeem himself, and he keeps fucking it up. again, that's interesting! there is a story here about how difficult childhoods affect adults, and how powerful men are not held responsible for hurting people. except that's not how he's written. he's written as a completely good person, a brave and noble leader, and all of the clans respect him and they need to get him back.
there's a crazy amount of bramblestar worship in this arc. even rootspring, a brand new skyclan apprentice, thinks about how important bramblestar, the thunderclan leader, is, and how all the clans wouldn't be the same without him. i can't take it seriously.
graystripe: graystripe also got a crazy amount of worship. i couldn't stand reading every few paragraphs about how great he is.
side note: shadowsight, bristlefrost, and rootspring all want the same thing. they advocate against killing bramblestar's body. wouldn't it be more interesting if the protagonists had different perspectives and opinions? if they wanted different things? for example, it makes sense that shadowsight wouldn't want bramblestar dead. he feels like the only way to make up for his mistake is to recover bramblestar alive. but bristlefrost could be in favor of killing bramblestar, because the only way to make up for her mistake (supporting the imposter) is to get rid of him. putting our protagonists at odds would generate some interesting conflict.
conclusion: i also have problems with ashfur (why does ashfur try to stir up trouble with codebreaking which will certainly get him caught when he could just take over bramblestar's body and live quietly with squirrelflight), tigerheartstar, mothwing, starclan, the dark forest insta-death water, firestar possessing rootspring, the pacing (oh my god! they were debating whether to kill bramblestar for like three books! and for three more books they were running in circles in the dark forest!), etc. but i've already written a lot and i'm out of steam lol.
let me finish by saying these are kids books, and i'm not expecting them to be the cream of the crop, but there are a lot of writing choices which are incredibly misogynistic and/or make no sense from a narrative standpoint. i still have a soft spot for this series though. dammit. okay bye
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Unlike Namaari King Magnifico deserved redemption. He might have been narcissistic and a bit of a control freak but he also felt like he was burnt out and underappreciated/misunderstood (imagine hearing "why can't you grant my wish please help me!' and being unable to explain yourself without breaking that person's heart- the frustration irritation and guilt from those reactions would kill me) and people want to help him for selfish reasons. Imagine meeting someone you think could lighten your load of work and become a friend or confidant only for them to tell you they're helping solely for selfish reasons. That's crushing. and he's not wrong that granting everyone's wish is a bad idea- why waste a wish on becoming a talented pianist if you could just practice on your own and get good? Why ask for a wish to become a doctor when you could just study and become one on your own? Are the people here that lazy? What moral questions would you have to face if someone asks for their child's disability to be cured or for them to have their lover return their affections or if they ask to be eternally happy or get rid of bad but needed realities like death? What ills could those wishes cause (this is giving me flashbacks to the 'board of governors' song from Jekyll and Hyde - very important good questions that got ignored by the protagonist but atleast Jekyll faced actual consequences for being a dumb ass and not answering them) And then there are wishes that are outright dangerous- ill intent unto others.
King Magnifico isn't evil he was under stupid amounts of pressure from his duties to his kingdom, his duties as a wizard who had to contend with these questions and all the work he had to do- on top of all that he has trauma specifically related to this stuff. He's got a thankless shitty job but still pushes through until he can't anymore. He was being selfless until the stupid plot picked up and he had his PTSD triggered and out of fear (which the audience sympathized with for obvious reasons) and after the whole book thing he was possessed and didn't have control over his actions. He deserved some consequences for picking up the book but nothing as harsh as the mirror imprisonment. He deserved to have people point out his fears were valid and that granting everyone's wish isn't a good idea and in some cases it's not even his responsibility. Sometimes you have to make your wish come true on your own and ask yourself the heavy questions- he deserved to be portrayed as sympathetic- He's like genie from Aladdin shackled down by his powers and that he was handling that work load alone with zero thanks and all the frustration of people depending on him more! He wasn't planning to do bad the whole movie! The worst thing he did was open an evil book when the pressure finally got to him
the movie should have let him be right in some aspects "okay maybe granting everyone's wish is bad, and maybe we should appreciate your work more but the only way for us to stop relying on you is if you let us grant our wishes on our own, even if you think it'll hurt" and having Asha, her friends and his wife take on more responsibilities. Maybe he has to share half of his magic with them and it weakens him and he's no longer the sole ruler and basically having him have to confront being a control freak. Having to trust others with his power and chill out. Him and Asha having to let others be disappointed angry and ungrateful and not let it bother them but also having to check themselves and their sense of superiority and Magnifico again would have to check if he was being too harsh etc.
King Magnifico wasn't evil. He's was right that granting everyone's wish is bad and dumb. he was in the right. The story should have shown that he was in the right without making him the good guy and had Asha be an actual character with an arc but instead of actually writing that story Disney decided to make him pure evil out of nowhere so you wouldn't think about how terrible the moral was (which would still earn my ire but I digress) but the thing is Magnifico became evil cause he was possessed- so while not totally innocent it instead emphasized the bigger problem with the movie
He genuinely is selfless and because of his trauma believes what he's doing is right- that can work for a villain but you have to be a real good writer to make it work- you have to make his actions more irrational and selfish and cruel inorder for people to recognize him as a villain (as a rule of thumb if your villain isn't doing something irrationally cruel and is fully in the right then you probably fucked up. If your writing a well intentioned extremist- you either have to make their methods insane or their motive- selfless but irrational or something- something has to be wrong with their mindset or rationale and something definitely has to be wrong with their actions) but clearly the writers can't pull that shit off. They made him completely rational and sympathetic on top of it all
And again he was possessed.
He did nothing wrong prior to that.
Not every villain has to be redeemed and have a son story attached. But for fucks sake if anyone deserves better it's him. The problem isn't that every villain is redeemed the problem is that the villains who get redeemed/get to be sympathetic anti heros don't deserve it and the baddies who do deserve better get treated like garbo
I just watched Wish (2023) and it made me realize something kind of sad about Disneyâs treatment of villains.
So Disney has a long history of villainy from the OG Evil Queen who is willing to murder a girl just for being pretty to the misguided like Auto thinking heâs protecting humanity in Wall-E. They are mean, jealous, prideful, vain, and many relish in just being the worst of the worst. However every now and then we get a glimpse of more complexity. Zootopiaâs Bellwether dealing with years of racism and mistreatment, Gantu trying to stop what he thinks is a monster in Lilo and Stitch, Upâs Muntz being a heroic explorer before paranoia consumed him, etc. The thing that makes me sad about these villains is that not one of them has ever had a chance at redemption or change in Disneyâs eyes and nowhere is that sadder to me than their latest villain, King Magnifico.
(Spoilers below)
King Magnifico is the magical founder of a utopian society that accepts people of all races, religions, and backgrounds. Who created this wonderful place after what is heavily implied to be a violent invasion destroyed his homeland when he was but a child. This past trauma led him to study magic and become a powerful sorcerer so that nothing could hurt him or the people he cared about ever again. His magic is a protection that he extends to all who choose to live in the city. The city is vibrant with a colorful community full of artisans, musicians, and dancers. He takes no taxes from them, but does take their one true wish upon joining this society.
When given these wishes it is understood that he will ensure their safety and possibly grant them one day. Something important to note about the physical manifestations of the wishes is that they give off a warm and comforting aura as they represent some of the purest parts of a personâs soul. Magnifico has been surrounding himself with this magical comfort for a very very long time by himself and I donât think itâs unfair to say he has become addicted to their presence. The wishes are giving him a magical comfort through the kind souls within them, a feeling he couldâve probably also gotten if he had spent more time with his people.
It doesnât look like he ever really got the chance to commune with his people properly because somehow the society kicked off on his wish granting abilities. People had to give him their wishes if they wanted them granted and eventually the ones that he couldnât grant in good conscience or out of fear started adding up so he began locking them away. Keeping them safe so no harm came to the people. The rare occasions that anyone else interacts with these wishes is during wish granting ceremonies that the people are borderline rabid for. With good reason, it is their souls theyâre thirsting for after all even if they donât really know it.
However, Magnifico clearly doesnât see it that way. He sees it as heâs given these people a wonderful safe haven from the horrors of the outside world where they can be whoever they want to be, do what they want to do, make what they want to make, and still all they see in him is a tool to fastpass to something else they want even more than the peace heâs given them.
This is clearly shown early on, before any of his evil behavior starts to take root, in relation to his assistants. We get a expo dump after the first song telling us that Asha wants to become one of his assistant to increase the odds of her grandfatherâs wish being granted as there is a correlation between past assistants and having wishes granted. Something important here is that there have clearly been many assistants, suggesting that itâs a revolving door position without really explaining why. Who would want to keep finding assistants over and over again, when really you should find someone who could do the job long term right? Well we get to find out the likely reason when Asha steps up for the role.
When Asha comes to interview for his assistant position he sees she is nervous, he tries to calm her down, and he even manages to relate to her through fond memories of her kindly father who he clearly knew. After seeing her true resolve to do good he decides to trust her with something few people in the entire kingdom get to see, the vault of wishes. To which Asha doesnât even hesitate to ask, after politely being told not to prior, if heâll grant her grandfatherâs wish.
Magnifico is blatantly stricken by her request, sadly remarking that most people at least wait a few months before doing so a.k.a pretend to be interested in helping him rather than trying to use him to grant a wish. This is likely why the assistant job is a revolving door. Magnifico tries to find someone who he thinks will truly and selflessly fulfill the role only to discover time and again that people are just using it to get direct access to him to ask for a wish. Then he canât trust their true intentions anymore and moves them along.
After Asha makes her request he does take the time to look at her grandfatherâs wish but dismisses it as too dangerous because it is the vague desire to inspire the next generation. Clearly we as the audience know that her grandfather means to inspire them to do good, but we have to remember Magnifico has seen the worst of society. He has seen the darkest wishes and desires of mankind and survived them. He brushes Asha off telling her sheâs too young to understand, which is honestly true. Sheâs lived her entire life cloistered in peace and comfort thanks to him and the rules he has made. She has never had to know war, strife, or hardship thanks to him, yet she doubts his decision without understanding the trauma that guides it. This is what I believe pushes Magnifico into his villain arc, something that I donât think weâve ever really witnessed in a Disney movie.
Usually a villain already is the villain by the time the film rolls around, even the twist villains. Lotso had already been deliberately sentencing other toys to torture. Prince Hans was already planning to murder his way to a throne. Evelyn was already plotting her revenge. Magnifico wasnât though. He was the hero. He had saved his wife and a whole cityâs worth of people from whatever drove them from the mainlands. He wasnât physically abusing/mistreating people like Gaston even if he was vainly basking in their adoration.
When Asha pushes him on the wishes he pulls back from her, identifying her in his mind as a threat and treats her as one. He dismisses her and tells her that her familyâs wishes will never be granted by him, but he will still keep them safe as he has been doing. Essentially meaning nothing will change for her from what it has been. You know a happy loving existence of complete acceptance and wholesome family life or as Asha interprets it, a fate worse than death.
His interaction with Asha triggers him, as sheâs pushed at the flaws in his reasoning for holding onto the wishes. The flaws are true, but his mind is clouded by fear of a lack of control, likely stemming from the horrors he witnessed in his childhood when he had no control. He also likely has a bit of an addiction to the warm fuzzies that the wishes give on top of his fears. While heâs ruminating on that some massive wave of magic blows through the kingdom and messes with the thing heâs already stressed beyond reason about, the wishes.
Magnifico frantically searches for any answer, even considering a dangerous tome of forbidden magic that he knows is trouble before his wife manages to talk him down.
The fact that he could even be talked down rather than ignoring her outright shows that Magnifico does have good in him. Heâs just reacting out of a genuine panic. His panic is only worsened by huge mob continuing to beg him for wishes in exchange for doing what should be the selfless act of defending their kingdom from what is essentially perceived as an attack. Not having any faith left in his people he turns back to the evil book to give him the key to stopping this perceived attack.
Just to be clear King Magnifico goes to the big bad evil book not to gain more power for funsies, but to try to find a way to stop a perceived threat. Everything he does from this point on, such as threatening his wife, can no longer be fairly tied to him, because as the movie repeatedly tells us he is under the EVIL bookâs influence. His wife even looks through the same book to try and see if there is a way to break the sway she knows it has over him, but says she canât because the EVIL book said no.
Yada yada yada and Magnifico is sealed inside a magic mirror and smugly told to rot in the dungeon by his previously loving wife.
Seriously?! What the heck?! This guy was the perfect candidate for rehabilitation. He wasnât flawless, but he wasnât a murderous psycho like most of the other Disney villains. Disney loves to preach kindness, acceptance, and good will with their heroes, but never does it allow the message of change.
I was shocked going back through the catalogue and slowly realizing none of their villains, regardless of how tragic their origins are, are ever truly allowed a second chance. The hero may offer it, but the baddy never is truly expected to change or reform. Which is honestly super messed up to me. People make mistakes. Some can be small/insignificant, but some are big and do hurt people sometimes. That doesnât mean they canât change for the better.
Now Iâm not saying every villain is redeemable or good, itâs just a bit surprising that for all the messages of kindness and acceptance we havenât really gotten forgiveness in 100 years. Seeing the âbad guyâs punishmentâ just deeply bothered me this time. Probably because so much of the bad that Magnifico does is clearly a trauma response and as a punishment for not acting appropriately to said response he gets sentenced to eternity is magical cell.
#wish couldâve been something greater and better but oh boy#wish 2023#king magnifico#wish magnifico#magnifico x amaya#queen amaya#amaya#disney wish#wish king magnifico#wish asha#disney villains#disneycember#animation#cartoon critic#ask Kyoko cane#fandom#wish critical#make Disney villains great again#Youtube
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In that clip of Franco and Norris, well in longer ones of it, Iâve seen some people say that Franco was talking about not being able to talk to anyone cause he had a concussion. Can you confirm that for me if you can? If so, thatâs pretty shocking he was cleared to race with a concussionâŠ
Couldn't fully hear what the interviewer said first but by context I'm guessing she asked about him doing an interview for F1TV right after his crash the day before, and he said:
I didn't speak with anybody, didn't talk to anyone. [Int: F1TV yes..] F1? I didn't talk to F1. No, I had a concussion, they told me I couldn't speak with anybody, they sent me back to the hotel, concussed. I'm serious. Yesterday was a complicated day, I didn't have a good time.
I don't think he meant he wasn't allowed to talk about the concussion specifically, but was told not to talk at all and just go to get rest by doctor's orders, which makes sense.
Right before this video he said he was kind of dumb/disoriented, as if he was on drugs when he got out of his car, he didn't really understand what was going on.
#he also said he was very sore#it's crazy they cleared him to race#when i saw 50g i was fully convinced he wouldn't#im graduating med school in 2 weeks and ive had concussed patients who we told not to do any kind of contact sport for 3 weeks minimum#but i'd like to hope the actual experts know better#fc43#las vegas gp 2024#williams racing#franco colapinto#f1
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