#of course... i could just use dolls that are in-scale with him but i like more stylized figures

[ctrlhope]

Please talk about your bug boys all the time!! Any tidbits, thoughts, and, of course, their fics make me happy. I never thought I'd love bugs (scared of spiders), but i LOVE your bug boys!!

I have so many thoughts from cute to morbid about them.

PLEASE I RLLY LOVE TOOOO OMG!!!! Wait okay so below the cut i'll put in little blurbs for each of them so you can get the vibe yk?? Cause I know I havent been able to show much of them through the fics i've put out so far 😭😭 In the rest of the guys fics (save for Hoseok), they'll all be a lot more present 🥺

It makes me so happy that you love the guys as much as I do, though fr. I was never expecting Jimin's fic to receive so much love and even though you're scared I'm so happy you took the chance on reading it <333 I LOVE YOU!!!! 🥺 ALSO PLS TELL ME ALL OF YOUR THOUGHTS!!! CUTE AND MORBID IDC I LOVE THEM ALL!!!!

cw. yandere behaviour, hybrid!bts, toxic behaviour, manipulation, typical stuff lol

Kim Seokjin

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: blue morpho butterfly

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Dependent Type » 6/10

An architype of beauty. A doll for the rich and powerful. The most sought after species in the entire exotic world. Kim Seokjin knows his place in the ecosystem of humanity well-- knows the titles given to him even better. Knows his value as no more than a monetary scale, a gorgeous pair of wings to show, a creature to fawn over. To bask in the effervescent glow of. He knows his worth. He knows what he's meant to be worth. What he should mean to every human he comes into contact with-- the gem of their collection. The world they now own. So why, why would you just abandon him after purchasing him at the latest auction house? Send him to live at the reserve after he's already decided that you have the honor of being his human, huh?

Kim Seokjin has always been the type to adjust to his reality with every new owner he has, yet he just can't stop himself from becoming fixated on you. From never wanting to leave your side-- not even for a moment. From thinking about you every waking moment you're apart. From wanting to be liked by you. From wanting to belong to you-- not as a pet, but as something so much more. You were kind when you met him, even more so when he sees you at the reserve. You show him things he never thought possible, you let him live. You treat him not as a toy, never force him to do anything, not once. You, yourself, might just be a butterfly. One with their wings clipped. Seokjin has always hated collars. The stupid, diamond encrusted things his past owners forced on him as a show of wealth. But you... with you he wonders hopes that someday you might just don him with the same. Maybe he can put one on you, too.

Min Yoongi

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: fat-tail scorpion

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Obsessive Type » 2/10

Min Yoongi never thought himself to be much in the world. His mother made sure he knew that ever since he was young. A scorpion is nothing to be proud of. Nothing to shine light on. Nothing that could ever make the world happy in some sort of meaningful way. They are creatures of destruction-- bred for a bid of power. To be used in wars for their poison. To instill fear deep in ones bones from a single glance. So how come, exactly, were you never scared of him? Why did you always seem so light, so happy around the terrible, brooding man? Why did you live with your head in the clouds? Why were you still friends with him even after you knew what he was? What he could do? After the way others looked at you, judged you for even being around him? All questions Yoongi asked, yet never thought to ever find the answers to. Never thought to let himself agree with the simplest conclusion of. Yoongi's entire life he's pushed away the obvious, even more so with his hybrid side. Never letting his true thoughts be heard, nor his wildest whims carried. It's no wonder he's such a stranger from his own feelings, his own instincts. But once you finally accept him... it's unfortunate how quickly it all goes out the window. His restraint lost, his hybrid side taking up much more space than it ever did before. You're all he can think about. All he wants to be around. All he can ever hope to love and exist as in the world. He sees you in everything-- he thinks. And though he tries desperately to hold it back, because of how long he's tried to hold back his feelings, his obsession is only getting worse. Thankfully his new friend Namjoon is ready to help him navigate all of these new emotions bubbling up inside.

** though during his actual fic he doesn't really appear yandere, the further along into his relationship with you, the worse he becomes. Probably maxing out at a 4/10-5/10.

Jung Hoseok

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: warrior wasp

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ �� classification: Sadistic Type » 8/10

Hoseok has always lived his life exactly the way he desires. Spending his days flying around the rainforest, taking what he pleases from others, playing tricks on those below him. Coming home to his nest with his siblings, living without regard or care for anyone other than those he calls family. Living the way a hybrid should live. That they deserve to live. Wasps are practically gods among mortals, aren't they? Stronger, faster, better. That sounds right, doesn't it? A god among men. Something that should be worshiped. It's safe to say that Hoseok himself has a god complex, though he would deny that fact. He would just say he wants to have fun-- that he deserves to have fun, no matter who else might come in the way of that. Cocky, arrogant, mean. He doesn't quiet care how he is described by others as long as he knows their place. And deep, deep in the Amazon Rainforest, there isn't much to stop him, is there? Well, other than the first appearance of humans that he's ever seen. A cute little researcher leading the way, smelling so good. So delicious. Exactly like the nectar of his favorite flower. Like the jungle after a fresh rain. The best part? You wants to know everything about him. Fawn over him like he knows he deserves. Doesn't mind when he plays little games. Wants to know his whole world. You aren't supposed to leave. He knows that with his entire being. Knows you belong to him. You're his favorite toy, his mate. You're not leaving. You're. Not. Leaving. Didn't you know going into this that warrior wasps have some of the most painful stings?

Kim Namjoon

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: honey bee

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Possessive Type » 7/10

Home to the reserve since birth, Namjoon knows a thing or two about how everything functions. The fine-tuned intricacies interlaced behind the surface, the projects going on throughout, the way the gears grind almost so perfectly together to keep everything functioning so smoothly. It's safe to say he knows everything-- he makes sure he does. The taste of knowledge is so sweet, he knows he could never turn away. He helps the new members of the park adapt smoothly, makes sure to help out with the hive. Oh, and of course help out the sweet little director of the park. He would never be so cold as to turn you down, anyway. You've grown so close over the years-- he was the one to first help you gain your bearings when you first took on the job. He's the one to bring you flowers when you've had a hard week. He's the one to put a blanket over your shoulders if you fall asleep at your desk. He's always there. He just makes sure of it. Because there's just something so beautiful about knowledge, you know? Something so deep, so raw, about knowing every little thing about somebody-- everybody that Namjoon can't turn himself away from. Knowledge enlists power. It instills fear. He wants you. And he knows. He's going to figure out everything about you. Just so he can have you. So he can make you his little puppet. Secrets are such dangerous things. You should know that. You do know that. But he, he knows there's something off about you. And once he finds out what, there's no going back.

Park Jimin

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: cobalt blue tarantula

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Clingy Type » 5/10

It's just too hard to be a spider!! Jimin's known it for as long as he can remember-- well, as long as he's been at the reserve, anyway. People there think you're scary so they don't give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape, not to mention the sun!! Oh god, and don't even get him started on his fangs. He loves them, they're so pretty-- he knows he's pretty, but they're just a pain! Nothing to properly bite to take away the itch!! Uhg!! Being a spider is just so hard!! But you, sweet sweet you just make it so easy. Ah! Wait, no. He's getting ahead of himself again. He has to remind himself to be patient-- oh so patient with you. It's not your fault you're just a little human, that you just need a little more coaxing than most. That you need time to understand him. To understand his raw, unfiltered desires. Oh, the things he would do to you if you did. The things he's going to do once you do. It was never his intention to stumble into your home, in fact, he had no inkling to do the sort. But he needed to get out, he needed to leave the reserve. To explore. His skin burned to go, the words of his bestfriend ushering him along the way. It was fate he found your home. A sign that you were meant to be. And every since that day, a moment has not gone by that he hasn't thought of you. Hasn't worked on planning his next move to have you. Because human's are fragile, you know? They need time. They need space. But Jimin-- he wants neither. He wants you all for himself. He needs you to want him like he wants you. Every waking second. Every moment. And maybe... maybe someday he'll wrap you up tight enough, pretty enough to show you what real love is.

Kim Taehyung

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: domestic silk moth

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Impulsive Type » 9/10

Kim Taehyung... he's another breed of creature entirely. Everyone at the park knows it-- his best friends especially. An amalgamation of nothing and everything. Something that is so easy to read yet difficult to decipher. The type of person to live off of their will alone, not caring for anyone else, nor the consequences their actions may hold. If Taehyung wills it, that's simply how it's going to be. So why... why exactly do you make everything so difficult for him? Things should be so simple-- they always are in his world. He wants a specific tree or cave in the park, the others give it to him. He wants attention from specific visitors, the others leave to let him have it. He wants to leave the park, play another cute little game of cat and mouse with you-- he knows you'll follow him in the end. Or else. He doesn't mind getting his hands dirty. He doesn't care about hurting people to get what he wants. See, it's simple, right? So why the fuck are you so difficult? He doesn't give a shit about all this human garbage. You should feel the same way he does about you. You should just accept his courting gifts without a second thought. You should be his mate and have his mark on you already. You should be living in his nest with him. But you fucking aren't and it's pissing him off. C'mon, it should just be so easy to give in-- he's so nice to you when you behave. He's such a good moth for you. He listens when you tell him no. And eventually you will give in. He knows it. In fact, he's sure you're already in love with him. You're mates. As far as he's concerned, you feel it too. At least, you will soon.

Jeon Jungkook

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ species: black garden ant

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ classification: Worship Type » 8/10

Jungkook loves his colony more than anything else in the world. It's all he's ever known, all he's ever grown up with, all he's ever learned to care about. The good of the colony is more important than anything else in an ants mind-- of course it is. It's bred into their blood, their genes speaking for them more than anything else. Bring home food for everyone else some days, help with the ever expanding tunnel system the next. Do everything for the sake of the colony, for the queen. Only, there was a seamless little mess-up in poor Jungkook's life. Something an ant hybrid never expects, but cant be more thrilled about. You see, ant hybrids don't have mates. That little thing is a simple fact of nature, of life. Something inherent in their beings for the good of the colony-- to make sure their priorities don't wonder. Of course they still mate, they still breed. But an ant with a mate... that means something far greater than a home colony can hold. Jungkook never anticipated finding a mate. Thought he would just settle down with someone he could be happy enough with. But now... now everything is different. Everything has changed from the second he laid eyes on your form sitting on the picnic blanket. And Jungkook knows he's loved you more than he's ever loved his own queen-- his own colony. Maybe he loves you more than life itself. For when an ant hybrid has a mate, it means the formation of something new, of something greater. Of a new colony, with a new queen. And you, you're everything he's ever wanted. You're his queen.

⊹  ׁ   ݂┊ ⭔ interested in more? read the rest relax reserve one-shots here!!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[professional-spectator]

Hey there, it's IDK! I usually stick to writing in the third person, but I thought I'd try something a little different this time. If you want to imagine yourself as the reader, go right ahead! Though, fair warning, I've never been the best at those kinds of stories, haha.

I'm a huge Cyno fan and proudly main him in the game, so of course, he's going to be a part of this story! I absolutely love Sumeru, and I feel like there aren't enough fanfics set there, especially ones that focus on Cyno. I'm still deciding whether to make this a series, so please let me know what you think!

Okay, here's the little disclaimer and a heads-up: I don't own Hoyoverse, Genshin Impact, or anything related to them.

And a big thank you to @arn9tails for letting me use their Genshin size difference AU as the basis for this fanfic. The idea that Teyvat isn't scaled to Earth but is actually much, much larger really fascinated me—it's a pretty scary thought, isn't it? I also really liked the idea that people from Earth aren't resistant to it, which is what sparked this whole thing.

Also, just a quick heads-up: this story touches on some serious and sensitive subjects. It's inspired by SAGAU (Self-Aware Genshin Impact Alternative Universe), isekai themes, different isekai worlds, creation myths, and fanfiction in general.

Alright, let's dive into chapter 3 and see what adventures await our dear Oc!

Chapter 3 Paimon copy cat:

I sighed, realizing that no amount of reader inserts, fanfiction, chatbots, or fan-made otome games could have adequately prepared me for what I was experiencing. I felt incredibly small in this world, perhaps the size of a Barbie doll, and the food before me was stunning, as though it had been plucked straight from an anime. Had I not been so stressed, I would have undoubtedly been fan-girling.

Despite the plate still appearing enormous relative to my diminutive size, hunger overwhelmed me. I was ravenous, but without any utensils. Although I had prepared this dish countless times in the game, I had never actually tasted it back on Earth.

According to the game's lore, the dish was Biryani: "An aromatic rice dish. Stir-fry the meat until it's crispy on the outside and tender on the inside. Then, stew it with condiments and long-grain rice. Sprinkle a few Padisarah petals before serving. Every grain is saturated with the aroma of fatty meat and condiments. The dish has an exquisite taste only found in Sumeru." To my exhausted and sleep-deprived mind, that description simply translated to "food."

At that moment, I likely resembled a wild animal.

"You look like a boar piglet..."

I immediately recognized Cyno's voice, followed by Tighnari, who looked utterly exhausted.

"Cyno..." The forest watcher shook his head, his expression weary. "Just ignore him..."

A wave of embarrassment washed over me.

The insult was like a slap. "I don't resemble a boar..." The denial escaped my lips before I could think, a purely defensive response born from injured pride. Hindsight suggested a more tactful approach might have been wiser.

"You do... you resemble a boar piglet," Cyno's voice, a resonant baritone from his towering height, corrected me. Stupid giant Cyno. A child? I was a fully grown woman, thank you very much. I couldn't discern his meaning – was he joking, or was it simply his blunt, unwavering honesty? A shiver traced its way down my spine. The mere thought of facing a real boar filled me with apprehension. My small size in this world already put me at a disadvantage, and if the boars here were anything like their Earth counterparts, with their indiscriminate appetites, I was in deep trouble. The food chain's hierarchy became painfully obvious, and I realized I was at the very bottom.

He locked his intense, crimson gaze on me, his expression inscrutable.

"Tighnari, I did not enjoy yesterday's dinner at camp with the boar..." he stated, his tone utterly grave, the slightest cock of his head the only hint of anything unusual. I could almost hear Tighnari's weary sigh carried on the wind. "He was such a pig..." Cyno continued, his voice as monotone as ever.

As a dedicated Cyno player, even I couldn't manage a smile. He was trying, I could tell, attempting to alleviate the tension, but his attempt fell completely flat. I had always pictured that if I ever met him in person, I'd be overcome with laughter, tears streaming down my face. But here, now, standing before the genuine article? Not a possibility.

"You see, the boar is a part of the pig famil-..." I watched, a bizarre blend of fascination and dismay, as he tried to analyze and explain the joke, only further entrenching himself in comedic failure.

Tighnari, muttering, "I should wash the dishes..." gathered the plates and walked away from Cyno, abandoning me. I wanted to scream, "Giant Tighnari, come back!" but I bit back the words.

He'd deserted me the instant Cyno began his jokes. I felt a pang of sympathy for Cyno; he seemed utterly oblivious to just how awful his jokes were. Now, I was trapped at this enormous table, forced to endure them. Kaveh's voice line suddenly sprang to mind, the one where he warned the Traveler to never listen to Cyno's jokes sober. Between you and me, I'd always dismissed it as the ramblings of an alcoholic. But Kaveh was right.

Cyno's voice cut through the silence. "Not funny? Mao?"

Mao. That was the name I'd settled on. A placeholder, really, a designated title in this bizarre chapter of my life. The fact that I couldn't remember my own name gnawed at me, a constant, low-level hum of fear beneath the surface. My emotions were a tangled mess, a chaotic storm of anxiety and bewilderment. And then there was the small matter of my current stature – I was, quite literally, the size of a Barbie doll. A cat minded you.

"It's not you, it's me..." The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I trailed off, cringing inwardly. It sounded like a breakup line, ridiculous given the circumstances. Thankfully, Cyno didn't seem to pick up on the awkwardness.

The words rushed out, a torrent of pent-up worry and frustration. "I was abducted, along with my best friends, and I have absolutely no idea where they are. On top of that, I left my aunt in charge of looking after my parents, and they're both really sick. I'm supposed to be home."

Cyno's gaze softened as he took in her plight. Trapped in a world so alien, so vast compared to her own—he understood her fear, her disorientation. A deep frown etched itself onto his face. The practice of selling these "mini humans" was an abomination, a custom long outlawed in Sumeru. Yet, despite the ban, they still surfaced, these tiny beings, often brought to the Akademiya under the guise of research.

But these miniature people… they were different. They didn't behave as ordinary humans should. Most scholars accepted this at face value, attributing it to their diminutive size or unknown origins. Cyno, however, suspected a deeper, more insidious cause. He remembered Tighnari's insightful observation: these "mini humans" likely lacked the natural defenses, the inherent immunities, against this world's unique magic, its mana.

If Mao—the name they'd given her, since her own was lost to her—was similarly vulnerable… Cyno's mind raced. He couldn't be sure if the world's strange energies had already begun to affect her. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Was it possible she might regress, devolve into the feral state he'd witnessed in other mini humans? He couldn't allow it. He wouldn't.

His resolve hardening, Cyno met her gaze. "We're going to get to the bottom of this," he declared, his voice firm, laced with a promise he intended to keep.

I nodded, but little did I know what the next day held. A day that would turn my world, quite literally, upside down.

I awoke the following morning, desperately wishing the events unfolding were nothing more than a bizarre dream. Alas, reality crashed down upon me: I was in a gargantuan version of Teyvat, perched precariously on Cyno's broad shoulder like some exotic parrot. My knuckles were white as I gripped his cape with my uninjured hand, fighting the dizzying urge to look down. It was a terrifyingly long way to fall. He had been striding purposefully towards Sumeru City for what felt like an eternity – a good four hours, at least.

How, you might ask, did I find myself in such a ludicrous predicament? Well, it all started something like this:

"Hey," I began, craning my neck to look up at Cyno. Without a word, he promptly scooped me up, his movements reminiscent of King Kong seizing his prize.

"I really don't want to go in your pocket..." I protested, my voice laced with apprehension. The last time I'd been confined to that pocket, I was bordering on the brink of a full-blown meltdown. Besides, the space was incredibly claustrophobic.

"How else are you supposed to travel, Mao?" He crossed his arms, a gesture I knew all too well.

"Walking, like a normal person..." I suggested, perhaps with a touch too much hope in my voice.

"You wouldn't be able to keep up, and the moment you set foot on the forest floor, I'm sure some ravenous beast would try to make a meal out of you," Cyno countered, painting a rather morbid, and frankly, unsettling picture.

"Isn't there any other way?" I pleaded, desperation seeping into my tone. Cyno sighed, a sound that usually preceded some form of compromise.

"I suppose I could pass you off as a jinni..." he conceded, his voice tinged with reluctance.

And that is how I ended up here, teetering on his shoulder like a brightly plumaged parrot. To add insult to injury, I was adorned in something vaguely resembling Princess Jasmine's outfit from the cartoon, albeit a significantly more modest version, for which I was eternally, deeply grateful.

"Do the Jinn really wear these?" I asked, my fingers gripping Cyno heavy cloak. Perched precariously on Cyno's broad shoulder, I couldn't help but feel like a slightly-out-of-place Princess Jasmine Barbie doll.

"Yes, when they take human form, they do." Cyno's voice was a low rumble. "But they're rare, you know. Most are kept confined – in jars, or bound to weapons, or even trapped within lamps."

I nodded, remembering the few Jinn scattered throughout the game's lore. They were creations of Nabu Malikata, powerful beings, but…

"Are they common?" I asked, my curiosity now fully ignited. I didn't recall encountering the Jinn all that frequently during my playthroughs.

"Common enough..." Cyno replied, his tone leaving me wondering just how "common" was "common enough" in this strange new reality.

Sumeru City was a feast for the senses, a vibrant tapestry of exotic scents and captivating sounds. I reveled in its beauty, often perched comfortably upon Cyno's broad shoulder, the rich aroma of spices swirling around me. Life was tranquil, until that moment that peace shattered with a single, chilling question. I overheard a voice, laced with avarice, inquiring, "How much for the Jinni?"

Being Barbie-sized, it seemed, offered no advantages in this situation. My tiny heart lurched within my chest. Did people truly see me as nothing more than a commodity, an object to be bought and sold?

"Not for sale," Cyno's voice cut through the air, firm and unwavering. In a swift, protective motion, he tucked me safely inside the secure darkness of his cloak pocket.

I wish I had an exciting secret to share, or that I had found something interesting in Cyno's pocket, but sadly, neither of those things happened. After what felt like forever, he finally pulled me out from inside his cloak.

"Mao? Are you okay?" he asked, his voice a tint of worry. I gave a slight nod.

"I'm fine..." I answered, my eyes scanning the room. It looked like an office, or maybe a bedroom—possibly a studio apartment. I noticed I was sitting on a desk, and in the corner, there was a bed and a bookshelf. I tried to remember, but I couldn't recall Cyno ever having an office in the game. I knew he had a place to live, but the details were vague.

"So, what now?" I blurted out, feeling anxious as I sat on his desk. He stayed in his chair, looking at me.

"For now, I need you to tell me everything you know..." His voice was strong and determined. I had a sinking feeling that I was about to be interrogated.

I was the size of a Barbie doll, a tiny intruder in a colossal, terrifying version of my favorite game. The thought of being interrogated by Cyno, my beloved character, sent shivers down my spine.

He began with deceptively simple questions, each a calculated probe: my date of birth, my mother's maiden name, the name of my childhood pet. With unnerving precision, he recorded every answer.

The inevitable moment arrived when I had to explain Genshin Impact to him. It was a daunting task, considering Teyvat was a world untouched by computers and the technological marvels of modern Earth.

"In your world, I'm a character in a game?" he finally asked, his voice sharp and devoid of warmth.

"Yes..." I squeaked, my gaze fixed on the floor, struggling to articulate the impossible. I braced myself for anger, for threats. Instead, an unsettling calm settled over him.

"That's interesting. What do you know about me?" The crimson eyes that I once adored now sparked with an intensity that filled me with dread.

"I know you tell jokes to diffuse tense situations. I know you received your Vision while reading a book on Sumerian law, before your appointment as General Mahamatra. And I know about Collei..." The words tumbled out in a rush.

"Is this game akin to Genius Invokation TCG?" he pressed, his mind already dissecting the information.

"Yes, in a way, but far more interactive..." I offered, struggling to find the right words.

"Hmm, could that be the reason for your divergence from the other 'mini humans'? Perhaps your immersion in this world through the game..." Cyno murmured, more to himself than to me, lost in a labyrinth of his own deductions.

Before I could even blink, Cyno's hand was upon me, scooping me up with the force of King Kong. I found myself staring up at him, my expression, I imagined, resembling that of a pouting kitten cradled in his massive grip.

"Give me some warning, will you? I'm not particularly fond of being manhandled..." I leveled him with a look that could only be described as utterly done.

"Mao, I assure you, no harm is intended. We simply must be on our way..." He then proceeded to deposit me, once again, upon his shoulder. I felt like a brightly colored parrot perched there, surveying the room. He reached for a jar on his desk, the lid unscrewing to reveal some sort of almond-coated treat. Chocolate, I presumed. He offered it to me, and of course, it felt enormous in my hands. I devoured it.

"Mao, you eat like a boar piglet..." A chuckle rumbled from his chest.

A blush crept across my face. Why was this man constantly comparing me to a piglet? It was the second time now!

"I do not!" I protested, perhaps a little too vehemently. I hadn't even realized I'd finished the treat so quickly. He offered me another. I also didn't realize how ridiculous I looked.

"You do. Though, I suppose it makes sense, in a way." Cyno seemed to be thinking aloud, more to himself than to me.

"The Traveler has a floating companion, bigger than you but smaller than a child, who possesses an enormous appetite. Perhaps it's your size, coupled with your intelligence, that drives you to eat more..."

The realization dawned on me. He was talking about Paimon. He offered me another almond, and I froze as his large finger gently patted the top of my head. A wave of conflicting emotions washed over me: embarrassment, anger, a strange sense of humility, a flicker of… pleasure? And underlying it all, a distinct anxiety. It hit me like a bolt of lightning: did he see me as another Paimon? Another almond, another head pat. Oh, I was a Paimon to him—a cute, adorable, albeit slightly annoying companion with an insatiable appetite. I glared at him, my annoyance palpable. I could practically see the thought bubble forming above his head: "Adorable, like a piglet."

High up on Cyno's shoulder, I felt like some strange, miniature parrot—a Paimon-esque creature under observation. I was doll-sized, perched upon the shoulder of my favorite character, being hand-fed almonds. It struck me then: did others yearn for their own Paimon? After all, the Traveler had journeyed to the farthest reaches of Teyvat, accompanied by the tiny companion. Perhaps that was the driving force behind the booming "Mini Human" market. But such thoughts were far from my mind as Cyno strode down the hall, my attention consumed by the almonds I munched on.

A confession: my pride stung a little. I was, by all accounts, average. In my daydreams of being Isekai'd, I always envisioned myself as the female lead, the center of attention. Back on Earth, I often felt like a background character in my own life. And now, here in Teyvat, the world of my beloved game, I was merely a tag-along. Not the heroine, not even a significant player—just a tiny sidekick.

As we delved further into the Akademiya, the familiar sight of the House of Daena came into view. A wave of awe replaced my earlier apprehension. This was the place where I had spent countless hours in the game, getting lost in the intricate library and longing to experience it in person. And now, here I was, although my current situation as a miniature version of myself clinging to Cyno's shoulder was difficult to overlook.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," Cyno's deep voice rumbled, interrupting my thoughts. He gently patted my head, his finger feeling enormous.

"I am not! Stop petting my head!" My high-pitched, indignant voice echoed in the vast space. I clutched his cloak even tighter with my injured hand.

"Hmm?" He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. "Mao, you seem to be enjoying it," Cyno repeated, his face stoic and serious. Was he really that oblivious? Another almond appeared, an offering as if food could buy my cooperation. Sadly, it often did. With a resigned sigh, I raised the comically large almond to my mouth.

"I am not..." I mumbled, taking a bite of the almond. "Stupid giant Cyno, stupid almond, stupid head pat," I thought to myself.

"Why are you pouting, Mao?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

"I'm not!" I retorted, probably sounding just like Paimon.

The earlier integration with Cyno had been intense, and Dori's name inevitably came up. I couldn't help but throw her under the bus, exposing her "Mini humans" operation—the one dealing with humans from Earth, like my friends and I. But that was then, and this is now.

We found ourselves in the House of Daena. I sat on Cyno's shoulder, feeling like a tiny, inquisitive parrot.

"What brings us here?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"I need to wait for something..." He eventually set me down on a table. Being so small was incredibly frustrating; a mountain of books towered over me. Why the secrecy? Couldn't he just tell me what was going on? I glared at him, only to receive another head pat in return.

I held back my questions. What were we waiting for, exactly? Just then, I saw him retrieving what I assumed were his Caskets of Tomes. In the game's lore, these card boxes were created by Sumeru Akademiya researchers and had a special mechanism for detecting others nearby who also possessed Caskets of Tomes.

I enjoyed the Genius Invokation TCG in Genshin Impact, but I was quickly learning that reality didn't perfectly reflect the game. The cards were half my size!

"Do you know how to play Genius Invokation TCG, Mao?"

Now I was completely baffled.

"In theory..."

He started explaining the game to me, but it was obvious he was multitasking; his attention was divided. He was watching someone, or something, else.

Perched on a thick volume, I felt utterly insignificant amidst the towering stacks of books that surrounded me. Before me, spread across the table, were the Genius Invokation TCG cards. They seemed larger than life, each one a miniature portal into the game's sprawling world. The characters depicted on the cards appeared almost holographic, shimmering like ethereal projections above the playing surface.

The selection of characters immortalized on these cards was a curious one, primarily reserved for figures of historical significance and those actively shaping society. It was why Cyno, Kaveh, and Tighnari had their own cards, their images gleaming under the soft light, while Sethos, Alhaitham, Dehya, and Collei remained absent. It was a stark contrast to the game I knew.

Cyno seemed to be juggling a multitude of tasks within the confines of his mind, his expression an unreadable mask. Even when the event he'd clearly been anticipating finally unfolded, he remained seated, betraying no outward sign of surprise or satisfaction. Once our game reached its conclusion, he abruptly scooped me up, depositing me unceremoniously into the depths of his cloak pocket.

Cyno conversation with Mao proved to be a treasure trove of information, particularly regarding her earlier circumstances. She recounted detailed observations of various individuals, painting vivid pictures with her words. One person, in particular, caught my attention: Cyno's observation of a scholar near the Akademiya. According Cyno had witnessed this scholar exchanging what appeared to be a coded note with another, hinting at Dori's network of informants embedded within the very walls of the Akademiya. Cyno's actions were so subtle, so expertly masked, that many believed he was too engrossed in our Genius Invokation TCG match to notice the clandestine exchange. But of course, nothing escapes Cyno's watchful gaze. Shortly after relaying this information, Mao, too, found herself scooped up and deposited into Cyno's pocket.

Once more, I was desperately clinging to the inside of Cyno's pocket. The constant bumping was almost unbearable. Was he engaged in another fight?

"Ugh!" The abrupt movements made my stomach churn. I was thrown around like a rag doll, screaming and struggling to hold on.

Through the thick material, I could hear his voice, loud and muffled.

"What information do you have regarding the black market for mini-humans? I am aware of who your superior is..." His voice was cold, leaving no room for argument or excuses. "There's no point in lying."

He sounded absolutely frightening. Then, in one fluid motion, he pulled me out of his pocket. By this point, I was almost used to being held up like this. The sudden exposure to the bright sunlight was nearly blinding.

I blinked, trying to adjust my vision as I realized Cyno had some unfortunate person pinned against a wall with one hand, while I dangled precariously from the other.

"Do you recognize her?" Cyno's firm grip was the only thing preventing me from falling, but I trusted him completely not to drop me.

"Take a close look..." He held me up, presenting me to the scholar's face.

"It's a mini; they all appear the same..." the scholar stuttered, although I noticed a hint of recognition in his eyes.

"That's rude..." I gave him a look that clearly said, "I'm so over this." I didn't expect his reaction; he screamed.

"It's talking! It's talking..." the scholar yelled, clearly bewildered. Apparently, according to the Akademiya, earthlings – their creative name for "mini-humans" or "minis" – weren't supposed to be able to speak and only had the intelligence of a cat or dog.

"What's wrong with it? Is this an abnormal...?"

"No, she isn't..." Cyno's presence alone was enough to easily intimidate the scholar. I was simply there for the ride, a prop in his interrogation. Before long, Cyno had gotten the information he needed and placed the scholar under arrest.

Once more, I found myself perched on Cyno's broad shoulder, feeling like a brightly colored parrot. He released the scholar he'd been holding to the waiting Matra, his expression hardening.

"We have much to do, Mao..." His voice, usually so measured, now carried a weight that made my non-existent stomach clench. I hated this diminutive form, this feeling of being a mere doll. I was not a child, despite the way he treated me. Another head pat, delivered with the force of his massive finger, only amplified my frustration.

"Can you please explain to me what's going on?" I demanded, glaring up at him with all the ferocity I could muster.

"We are going to get to the bottom of this," he declared, his gaze fixed on some distant point. "Clearly, you are the normal one in this equation. There is something deeply amiss when others of your kind arrive in this world... We are going to hold those responsible accountable. It simply isn't right to enslave an entire group of people for the sake of companionship... Especially when they are rendered unable to speak for themselves."

The realization washed over me then: I was now an unwitting participant in Cyno's personal quest for justice. Another head pat landed, and I could see he genuinely believed I enjoyed them. I didn't have the heart to correct him. A weary part of me screamed that I'd had enough adventure, that I just wanted to wake up from this bizarre nightmare. But deep down, I knew I no longer had a choice in the matter. My fate was intertwined with his.

"So, what now?" I asked, the question hanging in the air.

"We'll go undercover..." Cyno stated, a glint of determination in his eyes as if he had a fully formed plan already brewing. Undercover? That didn't seem like his usual style. He looked incredibly resolute, a man on a mission.

To be continued, maybe......

[pokegalla]

Another trade of the classic multiparted headcanons on my blog! But this time?

With the creepy bois✨ (Plus first post of headcanons for them! :D)

Trade/Requested by @tryslogic

(Warning: Slight nsfw and damn near borderline all things considered with these guys-)

How Touchy Can They Be In Public With Slightly Large Chested S/o!

Jeff:

* Bruh. Without a fucking doubt- this goddamn horndog. Walk him with a leash-

* He would sneak up on you and hug you from behind before just giving a big ass squeeze- you’d bonk him but that’ll just make him laugh. He’ll use your damn chest like a stress ball, having a shit eating grin because he just KNOWS how much of an asshole he’s being. (And he knows you just love him too much 😌✨)

* In private it technically can get pretty fluffy surprisingly. Using your chest like a pillow after a long day of killing? God it’s heaven sent to him. Just hope he isn’t too messy though- but of course he isn’t letting the opportunity go to waste to tease you. Littering your neck and chest with love marks? Drives him CRAZY. Yeah you ain’t walking if he’s in that mood-

* And man you are just a glutton for punishment if you wearing a boob window- he loves the view but he HATES how the others are gawking at you. You end up getting pulled to the side. “Fucking tease….better start screaming my name. I want them to hear who you belong too~”

* He’s a little possessive and protective buuuut in a more heartfelt way surprisingly. Will he admit it? Over his dead body-

Eyeless Jack:

* Ah now here’s a more respectable guy. For a kidney eating demon, he respects boundaries! He’s a monster but not THAT kind-

* Noooot saying he wouldn’t stare though. I mean kinda hard not to yknow? He’d probably tease you quietly about how good you’re looking right now. But he would never just outright just….grab it. Like why??? (Honestly he could though. Sneaky boi-)

* But in private he is WAY more snuggly. Hope you don’t mind black streaks on your shirts. Because he is diving into those twin peaks✨ he feels so safe in your arms….he can’t help but wrap his arms around your waist. You might be stuck for quite awhile. But in the meantime? You get a chance to see him without the mask! And you can’t skip out on that now can you~?

* Now here’s where you end up tipping the scale with him: Boob window. God you just look so good in it. He is biting his lip and even starts whispering teases in your ear. “Tryna grab my attention that badly~? It might just work~” I know yall definitely had a quickie in the forest. Hope you kept quiet~✨

* Overall he’s just a pretty chill guy! Who just can’t resist you~✨

Laughing Jack:

* Ok there’s no sugarcoating this. This is the worst motherfucker here. And THE biggest tease. FOR FUN-

* Does not help if you wear layers, his lanky ass arms will always manage to slip through. And his big ass grin just tells you he KNOWS this is pissing you off so he honks it before laughing like a maniac. He boops your cheek though to show you he’s just playing around.

* In private….I mean not much of a difference? Well other then straight up picking you up to plop his chin in your cleavage and looking up at you with a smirk. Orrrr having your chest on his head like a damn hat- he can’t really snuggle like the others without the risk of stabbing you with that sharp ass nose 💦 but he makes due with what he can✨

* Now the boob window he will SHAMELESSLY stare and even TUG on it to see more- “Heh~ What a pretty little view~ Might as well show it all~” and that bastard actually teases you to the point of being needy. He finds it amusing. But at least he’ll reward his little doll in the end~✨

* He just loves messing with you but really that’s just how he shows you his love✨

[raayllum]

Chessmaster Ezran

It's no secret by this point that Aaravos is a chess master. He has literal pawns, his game motif is consistent across seasons (though mostly carried by the Key of Aaravos in arc 1), is associated with black and white, "eight in a line" from the 6x08 poem could reference 8 across as that's the number of pawns/pieces in a line in chess, and he's been referred to as a chess player, literally:

After more than a millennium of careful planning, moving and manipulating generations of humans and elves like pieces on some cosmic chess board, the machinations of the Midnight Star known as Aaravos are finally coming to bear.

The symbolism behind chess itself also talks about a "cyclical nature," the "unavoidable consequences" of each movement, the relationship in chess "between will and fate, but likewise between liberty and knowledge" and ideas of foresight and knowledge. (Meta here.) These are all things, of course, that Arc 2 is increasingly interested in exploring, looking at the ways characters are trapped by circumstances and choices and also deconstructing the idea of having "no choice".

I don't think at this point we have to prove, then, that Aaravos is a chess master of sorts; this is just the text, particularly because moving pawns around isn't that dissimilar from moving puppets around.

What is far more questionable, then, is Who exactly is Aaravos playing chess against?

Now, there's a few answers that could be the case. As displayed above, Aaravos lost one match against the Archdragons and was subsequently imprisoned, but it seems like maybe he was totally aware they were in the game, per se ("he let his guard down" / "as the day you betrayed me"). And while Aaravos hates the archdragons accordingly ("I'm glad you took down that arrogant monster"), they're very clearly not who his endgame victory is against. If he'd wanted to just destroy only them, he probably could've done so a long time ago.

At the same time, I don't think we can directly say the Startouch elves themselves. While they're the people he seems angriest at ("and when everything they have built lies shattered, I will savor their fall from the sky"), and therefore probably the people he wants revenge against the most... It doesn't seem like the Stars have been aware of what's going on down here in Xadia in centuries, and therefore, haven't been 'responding' to any of Aaravos' moves since he was banished and left behind. I wouldn't that it couldn't be him and Leola in some kind of proxy war, but if First elves like Aaravos are at the top of the magical hierarchy, and magic-less humans are at the bottom, it makes sense for a human to ultimately upend said hierarchy (with or without magic), don't you think?

Additionally, none of this is to say being cognizant of the Game is required to be Aaravos' opponent, but that Aaravos needs an active and reoccurring adversary to respond to. The good news is that he has one.

Now let me explain.

Set Up

While Ezran may not seem like an obvious choice — he's not a mage, he's not even one of Aaravos' current pawns to reward a 180 turn around if they turned against him, nor has he directly foiled Aaravos' plans the way Rayla has (at least once) — I think that's precisely why he's the one who's potentially in this role, symbolically at least.

While other characters are tied to the game motif in being pieces (Avizandum, Harrow and Sarai's graves, Callum and Viren's intros, the wooden Rayla doll from 1x04 of all episodes), Ezran is tied to being a piece mover and recognizing that the game and puzzle exists, each time. One that he can solve; one that he can win.

Now, part of that is helped by Ezran inheriting Harrow's status of being a thematic opposite to Aaravos. Aaravos 'serves' in order to gain control and power, and Harrow tries to even out of the scale of his control and power by serving the people: a servant king. Where Aaravos doesn't seem to see anyone as a person, in line with the way he literally uses his pawns, encourages dark magic, and dismisses his enemies, Ezran sees everyone — including animals, elves, dragons, enemies, etc. — as people (re: his sadness in 3x09 as he has to fight and kill people he wanted to save, because they literally won't stop attacking and have been robbed of their own humanity wilfully).

Piled on top is Ezran's own dichotomy of being both a child and a king ("A child is freer than a king") that mirrors Aaravos deriding the group as "pathetic children" while also relying on Claudia (whose the same age) to free him, and that he's playing a game at all that likewise involves his key ("It's a toy, a piece from a children's game" / "The whining child king, in over his head, and he knows it").

And more than that, Ezran has his own game motif. So let's talk about it:

Hide and Seek (Truth telling and Game Motif)

What begins as a little boy's favourite game, in addition to heartbreakingly always reminding you of just how young Ezran is in canon, evolves into a hide and seek game of world altering proportions. Arc 2 is largely about searching for / the acquirement of fully actualized knowledge (befitting of a mystery, mind you) and subsequently, the game of hide and seek is on for that knowledge. They just have to beat Claudia to the finding, first of the map, and then of the prison.

Knowledge of where the prison is hidden that Ezran uniquely carries and uniquely puts him at risk for. This is, of course, a call back to Ezran being the one to uncover the initial mystery of the egg (similarly to how Callum uncovers the truth behind primal magic and the fates of Rayla's parents). He discovers the egg in the dungeons, he advocates for telling the truth and being open and honest, and he is the Truth Teller of the series in so many ways, even if that doesn't mean he's infallible.

I had a speech planned for today. It was about peace and love and hope. But I think I left something out. I ignored something that was true. I denied something that is undeniable. 

Ezran bears witness to the things that other people don't see, or the other things that people don't understand, as while usually we're let in on the loop ahead of time, Ezran's actions and discoveries — finding the egg, retrieving it, showing up the Bookery in the nick of time — are kept behind closed doors until the reveal. Much like Aaravos, I might add. Ezran wears the blind fold like is father did (screams in Celestial elves) properly, but can see clearly at the same time by extending it to all peoples simultaneously.

If the stars are evil because they are indifferent and potentially ignorant, if Aaravos is evil because he is aware of what's going on but unsympathetic, than Ezran is their true opposite in being 1) consistently and constantly thematically and literally aware of what's going on (i.e. his brother's sadness, Rayla's feelings upon her return, the feelings of dragons, Claudia's fight with Ibis) and 2) holding sympathy regardless (even for Aaravos).

If the truth is hidden, Ezran will find it. And that's exactly why he's uniquely fit to go up against Mr. I never lie in a thematic chess match across the whole series, so let's start unpacking it.

Kingship and Clarity (2x08, 2x09)

I'm not going to touch on S1 that much as the majority of what I would've noted is already in the previous sections, so with that in mind I want to talk the back half of S2, specifically Ezran finding out about Harrow onwards.

Upon receiving the news, Ezran is cruel to both Rayla and himself.

E: You knew? I'm such an idiot! I should've figured it out. When we met you, you had two of those assassin-y ribbon-y things. But one of them fell off that night! R: Yes. That must've been when he fell. E: Fell? Fell?! R: Yes. E: He didn't fall Rayla, he didn't trip and fall on the ground, he got killed!

Now there's parallels here about how Moonshadows will dress things up in prettier language than what's actually happening, and in Harrow's rejection of the same thing from Viren ("Call it what it is: dark magic") and Callum's critique in 3x08 ("You've got a nicer word for it?"). But the most overt thing is what we know about associations with falling and death from the elf we just recently got the name of: Aaravos.

Moving on, I want to talk about how Ezran's realization and acceptance of his father's death causes him to realize that he likewise needs to go home: "Maybe I can help the world better from the throne. I can do whatever I can to stop the war". (Something something Aaravos giving humans magic because he believed they could be 'better'.)

Aaravos was cast out of power and 'heaven' and Ezran ascends, yes, but Aaravos' descent caused him to lose clarity in childish revenge, whereas Ezran acquires clarity by moving into altruistic adulthood. He's not being radically changed morals or principles wise, but he's not stagnating. Furthermore, Ezran's bond with Zym that he acquires in 2x09 is like a 'healthy' version of Aaravos' channelling through Viren.

Ezran and Zym find that, due to their bond of love and understanding, they can see where the other person is, embodying the principle of the blindfold's basis being that you can see through another person's eyes and perspective. Here, Ezran's empathy / compassion is made completely literal, and helps Zym achieve the victory of flight in order to likewise save his brother and friend. Aaravos, meanwhile, channels power through Viren, and subsequently withdraws it entirely when it no longer suits him; Aaravos is seeing through Viren's eyes only, and they don't even win. Aaravos is eagerly participating in the fight at the beginning, but when he realizes his pawn may die, he switches tactics and "stays" with him. In contrast, Ezran and Zym achieve their aims and maintain their literal separation while being emotionally closer than ever.

This is all just set up for the Game, though. The first match that Aaravos and Ezra have, of course, is in 3x04 with

An Exchange of Kings (3x04)

As a game, chess is all about exchange and sacrifice. When Ezran is pushed into a corner of treating people like pawns (like symbols), he hates it.

What follows, then, is an exchange. In chess, if you get a pawn to the end of the board, you can exchange it for another piece that's already been taken (with the sole exception of your king, as that's checkmate). We see Aaravos do this slightly with Sir Sparklepuff and Viren in theory in 5x09, but we also see it here more directly with one king (Ezran) being swapped for another (Viren).

This is also, currently, the closest we see Ezran be a 'pawn' in any conceivable way. He's at the end of the board, he's being exchanged, except this time it's for the benefit of the opposing side. The main reason I mandate, then, that Ezran is still an Opponent rather than a piece is because of how this trade is inverted on an even broader scale later on this season:

The Final Battle (Or Not)

As king, and this is the particular piece of Chessmaster Ezran I think I adore above all else, he is fundamentally encouraged to treat his subjects like pawns.

Now, Ezran doesn't want to treat anyone this way. He doesn't view anyone, animal, human, elf or otherwise, as Not People. Even when the human armies are decidedly no longer literally human, and raging fiery monsters attacking him and everything he has left, he still holds sympathy for them and compassion for Claudia.

Claudia — and Viren — meanwhile, don't see their pawns that way at all. Claudia has yet to ever see Rayla as a person, only recognizing the elves who conveniently help her (Terry, Aaravos) as worthy of identified personhood; Viren and Aaravos' overall "plan" was to kill a baby dragon and use all the human army as "distractions". They never cared about anyone's personhood, once they'd gotten that far.

It is Ezran's distaste for seeing people as pawns ("Bait's not for sale, he's my friend!" / saving the baby glow toads) — preferring to see himself, like his father, as a servant king — versus that being all Aaravos has seemingly done for centuries that makes me feel like Ezran is the personal perfect opponent to eventually triumph in the end.

And going forward into S4, we see a few more of their matches take place:

S4 Ezran as the decision maker (4x04, 4x06)

One of the things I was most excited going into S3 was that Ezran, who'd been decisive but largely passive in the first two seasons, was going to be forced to make some difficult decisions. I was extra pleased, then, when we see Ezran step even more into that leadership role in S4 and S5; no longer is he mostly going along with Callum and Rayla's plans. Often times he's the one ultimately setting things up or making said decisions when the group is together.

It's his idea to tackle things together, and help Zubeia after all, in 4x04 (though he looks to his brother to receive an encouraging nod) and to bring Rayla along when she expresses doubts.

It's his idea to go find the puzzle pieces and express those next steps.

It's even his idea to bring Zubeia to Katolis that helps free up the Storm Spire for Claudia, as she takes the dragons leaving "as a sign" (unintentionally on Ezran's behalf, of course). But if Ezran is the stealth opponent here and there to Aaravos' mini matches, this is also something has happened before and will likely happen again, thanks to

The Orphan Queen

Chaos and confusion erupted and war threatened to tear Xadia apart, as now the elves suspected that the dragons had killed their queen. But truth came from an unexpected source. A young human girl discovered a great secret of history. A dangerous deceiver was revealed.

The last time Aaravos' plans firmly fell to pieces, and what led to his imprisonment, was ultimately the Orphan Queen. I've talked more about her potential parallels to Ezran in my Mirrored Trio theory post (as well as Callum's potential parallels to the Jailer) so I won't repeat too much here, but is an option if you'd like to see more.

The important thing to note here, though, is that Ezran's arc will 1) probably parallel the Orphan Queen's in ultimately being part of Aaravos' permanent defeat and 2) perhaps being one of the first to recognize the full scope of Aaravos' plans. I'd love it in particular if in S6, while at Katolis, Ezran does research into his ancient royal ancestor and learns more about her. Too late maybe to pass on the relevant information to keep Callum and Rayla from disaster, but... I expect this:

I should have seen it before. Ha! Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes and helped Xadia put an end to them. You look so much like her.

to come to fruition eventually, in S7 probably. Aaravos may win his chess game in S6, after all, but he will eventually lose.

Season five, of course, also offered more evidence aligned with this reading:

Season Five Set Up

In S5, we see Ezran continue to be the Retriever and finder of objects in ways that thus far no else has really achieved.

Claudia tries and fails to retrieve objects, mostly; Viren probably comes closest, and it'll be more of an aim for Callum and Rayla in S6, I still expect Ezran to ultimately pull ahead in future seasons.

He's also associated heavily with light in the TDP short stories in ways we've largely only seen given to Rayla in canon as well, highlighting another similarity between them, and placing Ezran in a similar position as Zym as the world's hope ("Look at them, playing together. That's hope. They're the ones that are going to break the cycle"):

Even the waning moonlight struggled to pierce its veil. Somewhere out there were his friends. His duty. His king. Two years before, when the world had seemed darkest, Soren began to imagine Ezran as a kindling flame, a bright little light holding back the abyss. When he’d named Corvus a Crownguard, he’d told him that the young king was not only Katolis’ hope, but all of Xadia’s, too. Soren had sworn to protect and tend that light. To nurture it. And in his darkest moments, that oath gave him a reason to feel strong again, a way to keep smiling.

Ezran also acknowledges outright in 5x01 exactly what Aaravos is doing and is the first in canon to use language that references Aaravos' game as a chess game with it, too:

The Archmage Aaravos is trying to escape his magical prison. His pawns are working, even as we speak, to find him and release him back into our world. We need to stop them. Can you please help us find his prison?

Ezran's Plans

In the latter half of s5, we also see the group routinely go with or accommodate Ezran's plans as well, even if they don't all necessarily agree. This is true in 5x05, in which we see Ezran reiterate that violence is a last resort:

E: If Akiyu made it, then she must know where it is. Then we can stop Viren and Claudia from releasing Aaravos. C: Or, hear me out [...] How bout we hitch a ride up there, borrow this Novablade, then we wait for Aaravos to get out, and just stab stab, buh-bye bad guy! E: Wait, slow down. Shouldn't that be the last resort? If we can stop Aaravos from getting out at all, we can solve this without any violence.

and in 5x06 with talking to Finnegrin and saving the Baitlings.

R: But he's not known for doing favours out of the goodness of his heart. E: It's not a favour. The fate of the world is at stake. I'm going to go talk to him. C: I'll go with Ezran while you and Soren try the docks.

5x09

That said, I think about this line from 5x09 when it comes to all of the above:

E: One step ahead is okay. Because Domina Profundis told me something they don't know: the secret of the prison.

We find out, of course, that this is the prison is a pearl in a clam's mouth... something that Soren seemingly knew on account of travelling with Ez, but that Rayla and Callum did not. This puts a target on Ezran's back in the confrontation scene — she primarily attacks and interrogates him ("You know, don't you? Tell me everything you know little king, or I'll squeeze it out of you!") — and Ezran nearly gives the game away to disaster, so it's, again, not like he's perfect.

It does however showcase yet another example of Ezran knowing something that other characters discover after the fact, and more rarely in TDP, that the audience discovers after the fact (compare this with how we know Harrow is dead well before the princes do, for example, or that Claudia and Viren are already up to no good in early S4).

I also don't think I have to spell out that Ezran knowing the Secret of the Prison — the very thing he set out to find in 4x05! — in seasons called the Mystery of Aaravos is noteworthy, either. While there are certainly more secrets to uncover — how, for example, the prison was built exactly; how was Aaravos trapped within it; how did two humans like the Jailer and the Orphan Queen get involved — I think those are firmly moving into Aaravos backstory territory alongside the rest of his mysteries (cube included) than just relating purely to the prison's construction, per se.

Ezran received the last pieces of the puzzle, and he carried it through to the end to what, technically speaking, should be checkmate.

I can't wait to see him do it again some day, successfully this time.

Values and Gift Giving Subversion

I've already said that Ezran primarily takes on Harrow's mantle in being the the clearest thematic opposite to Aaravos thus far. That doesn't mean Callum and Rayla don't have their oppositions and parallels to Aaravos as well (they absolutely do; Rayla is currently a pretty strong foil!) but again that Ezran is the certified Opponent.

A few final ways we see this manifest is in Ezran's values. We've already seen the ultimate difference in their views on personhood, but one of my favourite ways that heavily intersects it that Ezran loves all his friends for the exact reasons Aaravos berates them in 4x04.

Aaravos taunts Rayla over her seeming inability to kill, but Ezran is the first to tell Rayla that's unequivocally a good thing: "You do realize I'm an assassin who hasn't killed anyone?" "I think that's a good thing."

Soren is a failed son 'unloved' by his father, but Ezran reaffirms time and time again how much he loves Soren, and the two always have a kind word or look for each other ("I just don't want to fail you too" "Thanks Soren [...] You're the best crownguard a king could ask for").

In a season where Callum learns his path of magic may have gotten him in a world of trouble, Ezran reminds him of the positive effect magic has had on his life, even if it's difficult: "Lots of things are hard, Callum. Like magic. But you figured that out".

We also see that Aaravos is prone to false gifts and dangling carrots. He gave Ziard a staff that couldn't ultimately protect him. He gives Viren another month of life mostly to bait Claudia into helping him. He uses and discards; these people don't mean anything to him. Not anymore.

Ezran, meanwhile, is nothing but sincere, particularly in his presentation of his crown to Finnegrin and Rex Igneous ("It's not worthless, it's made of my father's sword" / "I wanted to carry that strength with me") while also recognizing the error in his thinking: "We've got it all wrong. We offered gifts that meant a lot to us, but the truth is, they don't mean anything to you." He then realizes what Rex Igneous truly needs, and it is successful; we see this again in how his speech in 4x03 helps heal Zubeia. Ezran sees emotional scars clearly, especially after 4x03, and he responds accordingly and sensitively to them most of the time. He knows what people truly need, and that's why he's a good gift giver.

Conclusion

In the final season I think it would be Neato if Ezran had to spearhead an army against Aaravos' forces and send his brother and friends in as generals and soldiers because he doesn't want to treat them like pawns, he loves them, but to beat Aaravos at his own game he has to do so (until maybe Callum can flip the board on its head, thematically, anyway). Thank you bye

[us3rnam3-r3dact3d]

the world (it burns through me)

Chapter 7

Ao3 | 2.7k Words | Darlin's POV

Milo is a drill Sergeant. Darlin' gets some emails. Angel washes dishes. Quinn is the type of asshole that flirts with teenagers.

TW: Stalking, threatening behavior, vomit.

“You’ve gotta put on some weight.” Milo tutted, his hands resting on his trim waist. Even two years later, Milo was a picture of petty tension. He hadn’t grown, despite the fact that he claimed people could grow into their mid twenties. He had built up a good deal of muscle in his back and chest, which served to make him look just a little bigger. He still had an air about him that made him seem two feet taller, even when you stared purposefully past the top of his head to piss him off.

Milo had started working you out as soon as Sam had given you the all clear, after you gave up on trying to avoid him. He was faster than you when he wanted to be, and staying away from him was so much less fun than just giving in to the familiarity of your quiet, playful arguments. 

The workouts started slow; annoying, silent yoga, something his partner had gotten him into that left you infuriatingly loose and relaxed afterwards. Once you could do that without panting and twitching with pain, he moved up. Light cardio and weights. You’d managed alright with that. Your stamina was shot but you were strong. Now, Milo had moved on to C.P.A.T. specifics. 

You’d passed the Candidate Physical Ability Test with flying colors the last time you’d taken it, but that felt like a lifetime ago. You were younger, stronger, fitter. What came to you naturally at eighteen made you wheeze at twenty-seven. Milo cast his gaze across the practice course before cutting those clever eyes back to you and your sorry state.

“There aren’t any weight class requirements for the physical.” You snapped. 

“No,” Milo replied, “but you’re not gonna get through the endurance test like this. You’re gonna fall out.” 

“I guarantee you I won’t.”

“Put your money where your mouth is, doll.” 

“Call me that again and I’ll knock your teeth out.” 

“Twenty?”

“Fifty.”

You won, just barely. Milo had a point, though. Running that course in full turnouts, hauling that ladder, scaling it, finding the hidden dummies in the fake building’s facade and hauling them back down, dragging the dummies and the ladder back the safe distance requirements; it was nearly too much for you. By the time you’d finished the run, you were gasping for breath, gripping at your protesting ribs, and dumping the dummies at your feet without a care for their ‘wellbeing.’ That part wasn’t new. It was a habit from your days as a probie you couldn’t shake. This time, though, it was done with some extra disdain. 

Milo clapped a fifty in your hand and let you catch your breath before he tugged off your turnouts, up your tank top, and pressed his thin, clever fingers into your flesh to check your ribs. 

“You’re gonna make me blush.” You gasped. Milo sneered. 

“You’re gonna get yourself killed if you don’t give your body what you need. You have to eat to heal.” He shook his head, dark curls bouncing this way and that. You patted him on the head the way you knew he hated. 

“You’re preaching to the choir. David’s already working on me.” 

“He’s got the patience of a Saint.” 

“No, he’s just force feeding me.” 

“Good.” 

You were eating three square meals a day, all packed with protein and healthy fats and carbs. Whenever David wasn’t putting out fires, both literal and figurative, he was cooking. He put more plates in front of you than you could manage in a day. It was the biggest bulk you’d experienced in your life, and even it was falling short of what your body needed. To be completely fair to David’s efforts, your body had always run on fumes. There had never been enough to go around. You had gotten used to making that work. 

David surrounded you with abundance. The tension of your sort-of-fight had eased. He had started asking you questions. They were uncomfortable, and you were finding it harder and harder to dodge them. 

You were going to spill your guts soon. You could feel it crawling up and out of you. You were going to lay down your load at David’s feet, unburden yourself through clenched teeth and let him take the weight. You’d done it with Gabe. David looked so much like him. 

You hit the showers, scrubbing the sweat from your skin. The cold tile made your toes curl. The lines of your tattoos were raised with cold and irritation from the cheap body wash that was stocked in all of the shower stalls. You ran ghost-soft touch over all of them before moving on to your scars. The one over your side, the newest one, was still pink and new. If you pressed hard enough on the two inches of clean, stitched skin, it still hurt. 

David caught you in the locker room as you slipped a D.F.D sweatshirt over your head. You’d slowly moved your meager belongings from your shitty studio to the last locker in the row at the 10-19. David had offered you plenty of his own clothes, but you didn’t like to wear them. Not the way that his spouse did, anyway. The little Shaw slid one of his giant tee-shirts over their head and wore it like a badge of honor, like a mark of ownership. You didn’t own David. You certainly didn’t plan on letting him own you. As it stood, the majority of your wardrobe was either covered in blood or stolen pieces from the D.F.D.’s lost and found. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, pushing your still-wet hair away from your face, “are you done, do we need to go?” 

“No,” David shook his head. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his uniform pants. “I’ve got a few more hours. Look, I reactivated your D.F.D. email account. There’s a form in there for the next C.P.A.T.. Fill it out sometime today.” 

“Okay.” You nodded. “When is it?” 

“Three weeks.” David said. “I can get you back on the job within forty-eight hours if you pass it.” 

“If?” You grinned. “I recall holding a record with my last one.” 

“Yeah well,” David shrugged, “you were a spring chicken then. We’ve gotten old.”

“Speak for yourself, Shaw.” You flashed teeth. “I could still kick your ass.” 

“Email. Form. Today.” David barked. You could tell, somewhere in your gut, that he was joking just as much as you were. 

“Yes, Captain, sorry, Captain.” You clicked your heels together in a salute as he rolled his eyes and retreated down the hallway towards his office. A smile slid over your face as he left you alone in the cold, quiet locker room. 

You D.F.D. email had two-thousand-and-seventy-three unread messages waiting for you once you’d managed to remember the password. You flopped down on a couch in the bunk room and sighed as you clicked into the newest one, skimming the form to sign up for the C.P.A.T.. Something about filling out that form, going to that test, made your chest hurt. It made all of it, being back here at the 10-19 feel… real. That was a dangerous thing for you. You couldn’t explain why. 

November was drawing towards a close. The cold had long settled over Dahlia and into your blown, shitty joints. You could do the C.P.A.T., you could not do it. December would come on either way. 

You clicked out of the form, out of the email, and back to your inbox. Maybe you’d feel more inclined to carry on with your future when all of the spam messages were gone. 

Spam. Advertisement. Debt collector. Spam. Medical bill. Spam. 

You almost swiped it right into your archives when your eyes caught on the subject line of a message from an email address consisting entirely of scrambled numbers and letters. That was usually enough for you to chuck the whole thing as bullshit. The subject, though, made your heart squeeze. You sat up on the couch, your feet hitting the ground. You needed your boots flat on the floor. You needed your legs under you when you read this. You might need to run. 

Back home so soon, Precious? 

Bile rose up in your throat, acidic and cutting. You swallowed hard and clicked on the address’s icon. Copy, paste, the address went into your search bar and twenty-odd unopened messages popped up. 

California state employees’ email addresses all followed the same formula. Last name, first initial. It would be so easy for Quinn to find it. 

You scrolled down to the earliest message and opened it up. The subject line made your hands shake; I’m never far behind, you know.

It was a picture of you from sometime in September. You were still black and blue from the fight you two had devolved into. You were standing in a gas station somewhere in Washington, staring at two different, overpriced painkiller options. You’d killed that bottle in less than a week. 

You’d known, in your gut, that Quinn would follow you when you ran. You hadn’t noticed him. You thought for sure, if he was that close, you’d have noticed. 

It was more of that. A picture of you in a diner, flirting with the waitress who gave you free pie. A shot of the back of your head in a Greyhound bus heading for California. You through the stained, narrow windows of your shitty apartment. 

Sam and his EMT’s leaving the night you’d been stabbed. 

Sam’s truck in the firehouse parking lot. 

Sam at lunch in a plush restaurant with a handsome man in his mid-forties. 

Sam sitting on the porch of his cabin, coffee cup in his hand. He looked so peaceful, his eyes closed and head tilted back against his rocking chair. 

Vincent in his fancy car, kissing who you assumed to be his partner in a school parking lot. He’d mentioned that they worked in an elementary school. 

Sam’s Probie walking towards a nightclub, their arm linked with a drop-dead-gorgeous man, surrounded by friends. 

David outside of a fire, smudged with soot, directing the scene like a conductor. 

Little Shaw standing at the sink, scrubbing the remnants of dinner from a plate, taken through the slots in the pantry door. 

He had been inside David’s house. He had stood three feet away from them and taken that picture. He was close enough to hear the little songs they hummed to themself whenever it got too quiet. 

You locked your phone, stuffed it into your pocket, and moved. You barely made it to the bathroom before you lost your lunch. 

He could get inside the house. He had gotten inside the house. There was no telling how long he’d stayed there. He could be there right now, waiting in the shadows for somebody to pass by and make an example out of. You had to tell David. You had to make them leave, had to put them both somewhere safe and torch the fucking place. It was tainted. He’d been in there, and it would never be safe again. 

Hands shaking, you replied to that last picture, staring at their tiny frame and estimating how long it would take Quinn to subdue them. Seconds. He could kill them in seconds. 

What do you want? 

The response was almost instant. 

You. 

He attached an address. You didn’t need to punch it in anywhere to know it. Max’s was familiar ground. The house ordered from there more than anywhere else, and Gabe’s accident had been just down the road. 

It got dark early this time of year, and by the time you emerged from the bathroom, the sun had set and night shift had invaded the building. You could smell dinner on the stove and hear the chatter of the house through the walls. If you hung a left, you’d be surrounded by them. You could find David, ask him to talk. He would know what to do about Quinn. He would handle it. 

Quinn was dangerous. David could handle himself, but Quinn fought dirty. David couldn’t win against him, not playing by the rules. 

No, you had to handle this yourself. David was already in danger, his spouse too. Quinn liked to aim for the weakest link. He liked to strike where it was easy to do real damage without taking any injuries himself. That’s where he’d hit you. The only way you’d learned to make him back off was to hit him head on, to not even give him the chance to find your weak point. 

He knew you just about as well as you knew him, of course. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t call your bluff. You’d have to hope he wouldn’t smell the terror rolling off of you in waves. 

You retreated away from the noise, from the sounds of your house, and towards the ambulance bay. You could sneak out the backdoor, have it out with Quinn, and be back before David was any the wiser. You gripped your hand into a fist as you shrugged on your jacket and shouldered open the back door. 

“Darlin’,” Sam’s voice called from inside. You stilled, boots just barely on the icy sidewalk outside. You turned, your hands still fists at your sides. Sam’s uniform collar was unbuttoned. He must have been getting off shift. “Where ‘ya running off to?” 

“Mother hen.” You muttered bitterly. Sam smiled anyway, seeming almost… bashful. “Just going on. Meeting somebody. Shouldn’t be long.” 

“Well, I’m off.” Sam reached inside to grab his jacket off the rack. “Let me drive you. It’s cold as all hell.”

“I’m fine.” You shook your head and stepped back. “Really.” You did not want to introduce Sam to Quinn. You didn’t want Quinn to make any assumptions. You didn’t want Sam to hear the things he was going to say to you, about you. Whatever you were, whatever parts of you Quinn had broken, whatever parts of you had always been broken, Sam didn’t know about them. You didn’t want him to see you and all of your broken parts in the naked light.

“Is it… um… are you going to see him?” Sam squinted at you, his jacket still in his hands. You swallowed. Your poker face crumbled. You’d never been a good liar. 

“Sam,” you started, hands clenching and unclenching. 

“I’ll take you.” He said decisively. You blinked, surprised. You were expecting him to try and talk you out of it. 

“You… you’ll take me?” 

“I’m sure as shit not letting you go alone.” Sam grinned like it was such a ridiculous notion that it was funny. “Come on, we can talk on the ride.” 

You were quiet for most of it, your throat constricting over all of the warnings and defenses you desperately wanted to spew. Instead, you answered each of Sam’s questions steadily, one word at a time. 

“How’d he reach you?” 

“Email.” 

“And he followed you here?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So he knows where to find ‘ya if you don’t go to him.” 

“Yeah.” 

“He’s liable to start a fight?”

“If not him, then me.” 

“And he fights dirty?” 

“He brings guns to knife fights, let’s put it that way.” 

“I understand.” 

“Do you?” You turned to him from the passenger seat, your face pinched and twisted in concern. Your teeth worried over the scar on your top lip. Sam’s eyes caught yours, brown gone red with the street light. 

“I do.” His shaking fingers tapped against the steering wheel in an awkward, unsteady rhythm. “Better than I can put into words.” 

The parking lot outside of Max’s was full this time of night, so Sam parked across the street. You spotted him through the wide, bright windows. Quinn had taken up a booth at the back of the small restaurant. His feet were kicked up on the table, shitty, worn boots smearing dirt across the clean surface. He was flirting with the teenage server who was refilling his coke. She blushed and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. The guy behind the counter was eyeing the two of them nervously. Anybody who had ever known an asshole before could see right through Quinn if they tried hard enough. That was why he had to flirt with teenagers. 

Quinn turned suddenly, stiff and aware. His bright, blue eyes caught yours through the window. His face split out into a terrible, toothy grin as he beckoned you inside.

[rhenuvee]

hi omg im so sorry can i request a kaveh x reader but YOU KNOW HOW THAT ONE "WRITING ON THE WALL" SONG GOES?? LIKE READER SEES KAVEH STABBING HIS DOLL AND LIKE TRIES TO COMFORT ☹️☹️☹️ ANY LENGTH WILL DO PLEEK

A/N: Hi! Thank you for your request! This will just be a short piece since I'm a little busy rn! // Y'all this song hit me so hard :(

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

"Kaveh, I'm home!" you shouted as you walked through the entrance of your home. You sighed as your busy day in Sumeru finally came to a close, finally giving you some time with your lover.

However you hear no response from him. You put down your stuff and realize you hear hammering sounds- he's probably working on another project. You always admired Kaveh's work- seeing how he spends so much time and effort in creating the perfect designs, by thinking of the perfect colour, material, form...

"Kaveh!" you shout again as you walk towards the work room. You realize the hammering is louder than usual, and you hope he's working safely. However, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was something wrong this time.

As you open the door, your heart instantly drops when you see him hunched over, hammering aggressively on something. The room is a mess, a mix of different materials in pieces, and unfinished sketches that are crumpled and thrown randomly across the room.

"My love...?" you whisper, slowly approaching him. You realize he's choking out sobs as he's hammering, and that the chisel was actually puncturing a little doll that seemed to resemble him. You quickly crouch down and put your hand on his shoulder, as a signal to let him know you were here.

"Kaveh-"

"It's no use... it's all worthless." he finally says. Your heart breaks at how dejected your lover was. You knew with how hard he works, some clients probably didn't like his vision, and all the things not working out just came piling on top of him. "I spent so much of my time, making these designs... And they're all garbage."

"Oh Kaveh, my love..." you embrace with him behind, and take the hammer out of his hands. "Don't say that. I can't think of anyone else who could pull off what you think of and make with the same amount of care. Your designs are wonderful."

You both sit in silence for a while, only Kaveh's sobs getting softer until he calmed down. You lift yourself off him and look him in the eyes and smile. You bring your fingers up to smooth his bangs to see his face. His usually passionate eyes were now exhausted and dark- but you want him to know you love him through these hard times.

"Why don't I run you a bath, my love? And we can use those face masks we bought the other week."

"But, the client-"

"I don't want to hear it. You can tell me about it after. C'mon handsome, let's go." You stand up, and reach your hand out to him. Kaveh stood up slowly, letting you bring him to the bathroom. "Now you sit here and wait, I'll go get the bath salts. Here, hold this for me."

Kaveh sits on the ledge as you turn on the hot water in the tub, then quickly run out to grab the salt. He then opens his palm, and he sees the doll of himself that he was stabbing... Then he sees something else- another doll, but the one of you. He remembers when he made the dolls before. A cute model of the two of you to set a human scale for his projects. But now he sees them as another kind of value.

"Kaveh, I'm back- why are you looking at me like that?"

A part of him hates burdening you, dragging you into his sorrows. But you remind him that you're here with him, and that you'll always support him. He sighs, finally deciding to give in and take of himself with you.

"Thank you, my love."

"Of course."

[adriwatchestoku]

Gavv ep29

alright, let's see how you're going to follow 28 up because fucking hell

"it's time for the show to have its phase transition. I don't know what to"

"kind of interesting it's a shouma recap and not a hanto one"

"and since it's shouma narrating it's entirely focused on meals he's had"

Sachika so happy about the gochizo

"I'm glad I haven't abandoned this set because it's a great set"

The way Hanto just gives Lakia the rocks

Yomi just called Hanto giving Lakia the rocks akin to someone who got someone chocolates for valentine's day

The sigh I made as Stella got up

"meanwhile"

Poor Jeebh

COFFEE DATE

Oh dear god it really is a date

Hanto that's really sweet to look for Shouma's human family

They keep dancing around the fact that Shouma was most likely a child of rape but it's still so obvious

OH LOOK IT'S HER

She called the zombie movie poster cute

"oh no I love her already"

Oh that's how they're replacing Suga in the op

"I appreciate all the updated lakia stuff"

too busy to implement them since Suga's dead

"the person you could outsource your work got kind of murdered"

oh no I love her

Nyelv like "what. okay"

I love sthe fem4fem

"time for a hostile takeover?"

Oh no, Glotta, you're not in for a good time

"when you make both glotta and lango go oh fuck"

Oh this acting is fun

"I don't know what monster this is based on but I definitely have fought it in a monhun game"

Oh she's adorable

Daddy's girl

"Oh that kind of classic ojou-sama"

Oh Jeebh's enjoying their discomfort

Yomi I need you to post pictures of The Beast

Of course Sachika can't play ball

"yeah Lakia is certainly someone who would have an advantage if you could get him interested in a basketball game"

WOW LAKIA that's over the top

"Might be running into some power scaling issue"

"full on pitches it like a baseball"

Sachika, girl

Chinen's arms, jfc

Lakia just bored as fuck at the end of the game

black cat/golden retriever friendship

She's used to getting her way huh

Lisel and Jeebh are adorable

"nyelv you've been going behind our backs? He's being doing a lot more than that! THat's just what you know about"

She sees Jeebh as a doll doesn't she

"I love all the detailed monster suits and cute clothing"

I really do hope they feel some real affection for each other

"I want to go to this store immediately" ME TOO, YOMI

"the way he holds his hat is so cute"

Lakia is fucking adorable

"Lakia is like oh. I see"

They just want the humans back jfc

POPCORN FORM

"Lakia's like I'll try violence"

Oh, they're weapons, not form!

Oh dear

[shifterdomain]

Kids Interview / Jonah Hauer-King X Actress!Reader

Summary: You and Jonah are traveling across Europe with the rest of the cast for the press tour of The Little Mermaid. You were set to have a day off, but when Halle couldn’t make it to the interview with Jonah because she was feeling ill, you came to do the interview with Jonah instead. Warnings: It's mostly some humor, cute kids and a little hint of flirting between Jonah and reader. Word count: 1470

Disclaimer: You portray Eric’s niece in the movie who came to live with him and the queen to learn how to become a well-behaved princess and your character helped Sir Grimsby to get Eric to forget the mystery girl and go after Ariel. You were like Eric’s closest friend.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

You were rushed to the location where press was being held by the driver Rob Marshall send to pick you up. Doing your make-up in the car had been a trick you had gotten better at over the course of working on this film, so all you had to do was get dressed once you arrived.

Halle had fallen sick with food poisoning, luckily nothing too serious, after you, her and Jonah had gone out to dinner the night before to celebrate the kickoff for press of the movie. It was something all three of you were very nervous for.

Halle had gotten a lot of backlash for being a person of color cast as Ariel while Jonah got the backlash for being a white person cast as Eric which wasn’t ‘woke’ enough (you simply thought that Christian Navarro, who started the gossip, was jealous for not getting cast himself) and because people were upset the role didn’t go to Harry Styles. And you, well, you got the backlash for being a character that wasn’t even in the original.

But the three of you got through all of it together, ending up being very close friends. Which made it a no brainer for you to fill in for Halle when you heard that she was sick. So after checking up on her you were raced to the venue and got ready before joining Jonah in the studio.

“Hey, I tried to come as quick as I could,” you greeted him with a small hug before taking a seat in the chair beside him.

“Don’t worry, you’re,” he checked his watch. “precisely on time,” he flashed you a charming smile. You let out a sigh of relief at those words before watching two little kids come into the room. They were both dressed up like Disney characters, holding a set of cards in one hand and a doll in the other.

Your jaw dropped slightly as you placed your hand over your chest in awe of the adorable kids who couldn’t be older than 8. Jonah did the same before getting up to give the kids a welcoming hug. You followed suit, feeling sad for Halle that she had to miss this, knowing how much she loved kids.

“You both look so beautiful,” you coo as both you and Jonah sat down in your chairs again, the kids sitting down across from you. The little girl dressed up like Ariel and the boy like prince Eric.

“Hello, I am Marissa,” the girl introduced herself, looking into the camera. “and this is my little brother Ivan and we are here with Y/N Y/L/N and Jonah Hauer-King to talk about The Little Mermaid,” she introduced and you could tell that this girl was made for showbusiness with the flair she had in just the introduction, while her little brother shyly looked down at his cards.

“Thank you for having us, it’s so nice to be here,” you smile kindly as Marissa turns her attention back to the two of you.

“Definitely,” Jonah chimed in with a smile of his own.

“Jonah,” Marissa looked at her card for a moment before looking up at him with a serious look on her face. “what was it like to get the part of prince Eric and how did you find out that you got the part?”

“Well, it was a very long process of auditioning and I was pretty nervous. I had never done something on the scale of a Disney movie and I’m a really big fan of Disney myself, so I really wanted this part. So yeah, I was very excited. Uhm, it had been months since I heard from the studio after my last audition, which actually happened to be my screen test with Halle, who plays Ariel. And I got this call from Rob Marshall and he said in that Rob Marshall voice: ‘Hello, I am looking for prince Eric’,” Jonah attempted to do a Rob Marshall impression, causing you to chuckle lightly. “So I was like: ‘This could be him…’ and yeah, that’s- that’s it.”

“And Y/N, what was the process for you?”

“Well, I got the same kind of phone call,” you answer. “and yeah, I guess you could say I was pretty anxious. Y/C/N isn’t originally in the movie so I was very nervous about what it was gonna be like and how people would react. There were a lot of auditions and at first we weren’t told the part we were auditioning for, I only really learned about the character when I got the part. You know, so that people wouldn’t find out about the new character before they were supposed to. But… Rob Marshall is a great director and we had an amazing team of writers and choreographers and the crew, all in all, is just amazing. And I think they did a great job at creating this character who… it isn’t really clear what her intentions are. You don’t really know where she stands because, well, she’s morally grey as we call it. She cares about Eric and wants to help him, but she’s got her own motives as well. So I think it was really fun exploring this new character. Rob really helped in coming to understand her and once Lin Manuel, he wrote the new songs, showed me the song he had in mind for Y/C/N I think it really came together for me.”

“Who were you most excited to work with?” Marissa asked, crossing her legs. I looked towards Jonah to see if he wanted to answer first, but he nodded for me to go first instead.

“For me, I was very excited to work with mostly everyone. I love ‘Hamilton’ so Lin Manuel and Daveed Diggs were just… amazing. And then Halle is such an angel and Jonah, of course, is just… everything you want to work with. But I actually think I might have been most excited to meet Melissa McCarthy. I grew up watching Gilmore Girls and I loved her character, Sookie, so it was just so surreal meeting her. She inspired me so much, so yeah, I was really excited about meeting her.”

“I’d have to say Javier Bardem,” Jonah answered, rubbing his hand over his jawline in thought. “I really embarrassed myself the first time meeting him. You know, I grew up on his movies. So, I went to his trailer and just knocked and I was so nervous. The door swung open and there was this really big guy and I looked at him, he looked at me and I just asked: ‘Can I have a hug?’ and he said: ‘Come here’ and just gave me a bear hug. But yeah, he must’ve thought ‘who is this kid showing up by my trailer asking for a hug’, so… that was pretty embarrassing,” he laughed shyly and you could swear his cheeks had a crimson hint in them.

“And what was it like working together?” Ivan asked, his voice hushed as his eyes darted around the room. You could simply melt at the adorableness.

“I mean, I love this job,” Jonah started and you braced yourself for whatever he was gonna say next. “even when it’s infuriating, like working with Y/N and… basically working with Y/N,” he joked and you give him a look of feigned hurt. “No, I’m just joking around. I loved working with her. She’s an amazing actress and she’s just got this beautiful, theatric voice. We got really close over the course of filming and I’m genuinely a little sad I don’t get to work with her anymore. We spend every day together for the past… almost two years. So yeah, it’s- I’m gonna miss having her around all the time. Bugging me to sing for her,” he said the last part like he was annoyed with it and you couldn’t help but laugh, knowing that he actually enjoyed it.

“You know, I feel the same way. I’m gonna miss our days together. Jonah was just such a joy to work with. He’s so passionate about what he does and he’s just so driven. Seeing him act is enough to make me realize why I went into acting. Seeing the joy he has and experiencing the fun we have together. Not just us, but with Halle too. I mean, we had the most fun. He’s just an amazing human being and I couldn’t be prouder of what he’s achieved and what he’s done with the part and I can’t wait for people to see this wonderful man sing and play his heart out.”

“Ahw, that’s actually the nicest thing you ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you reply jokingly, smiling back at him. You really were gonna miss these moments together.

[ssruis]

(Re: tsukasa post) if you wanted to be a little uncharitable you *could* say that tsukasa cares for others just because it lines up with his goals - as in, he cares for others because he believes that’s what a star should do - rather than just genuine kindness and goodwill, but I would argue

- wrt loved ones: saki specifically (& to a lesser extent toya just because they interact less) is the greatest counterpoint against that interpretation. He wants to be the best brother possible because he loves her, not because it’s what a star should be doing (gestures at the doll event where he brought her the dolls as a kid even before he started the whole I am a world future star thing). Like yes he views that as something he *should* be doing but that’s because he believes that’s what you should do for your loved ones. I think at this point the big brother-dream of being a star thing are so irreversibly intertwined that they’re kind of one and the same. Of course a star would care for others because tsukasa cares for others and he views himself as a star etc etc. He wants to look out for/do things for his siblings/friends because he loves them.

- I guess you could argue him doing the same for strangers is solely because it upholds his star persona/image? But to that I would point out that his whole “I realized my real dream was to make others smile” thing in the main story sort of contradicts that. Given the whole “theatre is life” thing he’s got going on I think making strangers/acquaintance/etc happy in his day to day life is just like. A microcosm of what he aims to do on stage. I think he’s egotistical yeah but I don’t think that has to be mutually exclusive with selflessness. I do think there’s a discussion to be had about tsukasa being self-centered because he *is* and he’s absolutely not the completely selfless guy some people want to think he is but I also think that he can be motivated by egotistical desires *and* selfless desires. Being self centered isn’t inherently a bad thing. Tsukasa is kind because he’s a kind person and because that’s what a star should do in his mind. His own kindness is self serving. Does that make sense (no, it’s incomprehensible) great glad you’re following along. Sliding scale of how selfless his motivations for being kind are depending on the person with saki being on one end and random strangers on the other.

- I think it’s inherently difficult to ascertain whether the motives behind kindness are self serving or not. Does someone being kind because it makes them feel good mean they’re selfish? Humans are a social species, we enjoy making others happy because it makes us happy. Evolutionary adaption that helps the survival of the group. I think the idea that true kindness depends on your altruism making you miserable is stupid, although I guess you could argue that a kind person chooses kindness regardless of how it makes them feel. But then there’s the question of what motivates your kindness (a sense of doing the right thing? Upholding your morals? Because the guilt of being selfish is something you can’t bear? Wouldn’t that be just as selfish as wanting to feel good?) Whether or not true altruism/selflessness exists is a philosophical debate I don’t really feel like having over characters from the gacha miku tap tap game. Whatever. Would like to point out that tsukasa has canonically chosen to do the “right”/kind thing at the cost of his own benefit before (giving up on winning the pxl show contest/chance for a big break in favor of putting on the WMS show, which he was a little upset about doing).

I think people tend to err too far on the side of “he’s super selfless all the time with a pure heart” because they don’t want to admit their fave is an absolutely bizarre guy with a massive ego that comes into play for more than just his funny little speeches about being The Most Special Guy Alive which is tragic because Tsukasa Tenma is truly an interesting critter. He doesn’t do things solely out of the goodness of his heart but he also doesn’t not do things out of the goodness of his heart. He’s complex. Layered. A weird little freak. I’m studying him like a bug. You understand.

[countesspetofi]

I've never told this story before, or to anyone else. When I was in the first grade at the Baptist primary school. my teacher kept a box of random little prizes for classroom games on the floor beside her desk. There was a hole in the lid just big enough to comfortably accommodate a grasping human hand and arm. The whole business kind of clashed with the fire and brimstone vibe you'd find elsewhere at the school (I don't think most six-year-olds can spell "idolatry" and use it in a sentence, but we sure as heck could, and we couldn't even say "sure as heck.") but that's another story.

One day when we were sitting on the floor for some activity or another, curiosity got the better of me and I peeked into the hole in the prize box. There, lying atop a pile of smaller prizes like a dragon guarding his hoard of gold, was an absolutely adorable eight-inch hard plastic dressed character doll. At the time, it registered to me as George Washington, but it could just as easily have been a generic Minuteman or Colonial/18th-century boy. Bicentennial fever was in the air for a long time, and our school mascot was the Minutemen. I wanted him. I was mad about the boy. I had a little horse figure at home that would have been the perfect scale for him.

Of course, that fire and brimstone I mentioned earlier immediately kicked in. I stayed for a moment after class, apologized with trembling voice for peeking, like the possessor of double footwear that I was, and was immediately forgiven. But the two times that year when I qualified to draw a prize, I couldn't bring myself to go for it. I made sure to feel around for something far shabbier than General Washington. The best I can remember is that one of the prizes I did get MIGHT have been a pencil eraser shaped like a seashell.

[xtruss]

Twenty-Five Years Before The Wright Brothers Took To The Skies, This Flying Machine Captivated America

First Exhibited in 1878, Charles F. Ritchel’s Dirigible Was About As Wacky, Dangerous and Impractical as Any Airship Ever Launched

— June 11, 2024 | Erik Ofgang

“When I Was Making It, People Laughed at Me a Good Deal,” Charles F. Ritchel Later Said. “But Do They Did at Noah When He Built the Ark.” Illustration by Meilan Solly/Images via Wikimedia Commons under public domain, Newspapers.com

Charles F. Ritchel’s Flying Machine Made a Sound Like a Buzzsaw as its pilot turned a hand crank to spin its propeller. It was June 12, 1878, and a huge crowd, by some accounts measuring in the thousands, had gathered at a baseball field in Hartford, Connecticut. The spectators had each paid 15 cents for a chance to witness history.

The flying machine—if one could really call it that—was an unsightly jumble of mechanical parts. It consisted of a 25-foot-long, 12-foot-wide canvas cylinder filled with hydrogen and bound to a rod. From this contraption hung a framework of steel and brass rods that the Philadelphia Times likened to “the skeleton of a boat.” The aeronaut would sit on this framework as though it were a bicycle, controlling the craft with foot pedals and a hand crank that turned a four-bladed propeller.

The device did not inspire confidence.

“When I was making it, people laughed at me a good deal,” Ritchel later said. “But so they did at Noah when he built the ark.”

A self-described “professor,” Ritchel was the inventor of such wacky, weird and wild creations that a recounting of his career reads as though it were torn from the pages of a Jules Verne novel. Supposedly friends with both P.T. Barnum and Thomas Edison, Ritchel for a time made a living working for a mechanical toy company in Bridgeport, Connecticut, where he designed talking dolls, model trains and other playthings. But he was more than just a toymaker.

Left: Charles F. Ritchel filed more than 150 patents over his lifetime. Right: Ritchel's 1878 patent for his flying machine — Photographs: Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

Some years after the flying machine demonstration, the inventor proposed an ambitious attraction for the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition (also known as the Chicago World’s Fair): a “telescope tower” that would rival France’s Eiffel Tower. The design consisted of a 500-foot-wide base topped by multiple nested structures that rose up over the course of several hours, eventually reaching a height of about 1,000 feet. After this proposal was rejected, Ritchel launched a campaign to raise funds to build a life-size automaton of Christopher Columbus, which the Chicago Tribune reported would speak more than 1,000 phrases in a human-like voice, rather than the “far-away, metallic sounds produced by a phonograph.”

By the mid-1880s, Ritchel claimed to have filed more than 150 patents. Not all of them were fun. He invented more efficient ways to kill mosquitos and cockroaches, a James Bond-esque belt that assassins could use to inject poison into their targets, and a gas bomb for use in land or naval warfare.

Yet never in his career was his quirk-forward blend of genius and foolishness more apparent than on that June day in Hartford. Because the balance of weight and equipment was so delicate, Ritchel was too heavy to fly the craft. Instead, he employed pilot Mark W. Quinlan, who tipped the scale at just 96 pounds. Quinlan was a 27-year-old machinist and native of Philadelphia, but little else is known about him. The record, however, is crystal clear on one count: Quinlan was very, very brave.

When preparations for the craft were complete, the crowd watched in eager anticipation as Quinlan boarded the so-called pilot’s seat. The airship rose 50 feet, then 100 feet, then 200 feet. Such a sight was uncommon but not unheard of at the time. The real question was: Once the craft was in the air, could it be controlled?

The first heavier-than-air flight (in which airflow over a surface like a plane wing creates aerodynamic lift) only took place in 1903, when the Wright Brothers conducted their famous flight in Kitty Hawk, North Carolina. But by the late 19th century, flying via lighter-than-air gases was already close to 100 years old. (This method involves heating the air inside of a balloon to make it less dense, leading it to rise, or filling the balloon with a low-density gas such as helium or hydrogen.) On November 21, 1783, Jean-François Pilâtre de Rozier and François Laurent d’Arlandes completed the first crewed, untethered hot-air balloon flight, passing over Paris on a craft built by the Montgolfier brothers. Later, balloons were used for reconnaissance during the French Revolutionary Wars and the American Civil War.

A drawing of the Montgolfier brothers' hot-air balloon Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

But free-floating balloons were, and still are, at the mercy of the winds. While balloon aeronauts can achieve limited control by changing altitude and attempting to catch different currents, they can’t easily return to the spot where they took off from, which is why even today, they have teams following them on the ground. Mid-1800s aviation enthusiasts dreamed of fixing this problem, which led to the development of dirigibles—powered, steerable airships that were inflated with lighter-than-air gases. (The word dirigible comes from the French word diriger, “to steer”; contrary to popular belief, the term, which is synonymous with airship, is not derived from the word “rigid.”) While some early aeronauts successfully steered dirigibles, none of these rudimentary airships could truly go against the wind or provide a controlled-enough flight to take off and land at the same point consistently.

In 1878, Ritchel was unaware of anyone who had successfully taken off in a dirigible and landed at the same spot. He hoped to change that with his baseball field demonstration. A month earlier, Ritchel had exhibited the airship’s capabilities during indoor flights at the Philadelphia Main Exhibition Hall, a massive structure built for that city’s 1876 Centennial Exposition. But there is no wind indoors, and the true test of his device would have to be performed outdoors.

After rising into the air, Quinlan managed to steer the craft out over the Connecticut River. To onlookers, it was clear that the aeronaut was in control. But as he flew, the wind picked up, and it began to look like a storm was gathering. To avoid getting caught in the poor weather and facing an almost-certain disaster, Quinlan steered the craft back toward the field, cutting through the “teeth of the wind until directly over the ball ground whence it had ascended, and then alighted within a few feet of the point from which it had started,” as the New York Sun reported.

Ritchel's dirigible, as seen on the July 13, 1878, cover of Harper's Weekly Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

The act was hailed far and wide as a milestone. An illustration of the impressive-looking flying machine was featured on the cover of Harper’s Weekly.

“The great problem which inventors of flying machines have always before them is the arrangement by which they shall be able to propel their frail vessels in the face of an adverse current,” the magazine noted. “Until this end shall have been achieved, there will be little practical value to any invention of the kind. In Professor Ritchel’s machine, however, the difficulty has been in a great measure overcome.”

Across the country, observers hailed Ritchel’s odd but impressive milestone in flight. In the years and decades that followed, this achievement was forgotten by almost all except a select group of aviation historians.

Wikipedia incorrectly lists the flight of the French army dirigible La France as the first roundtrip dirigible flight. But this event took place six years after Ritchel’s Hartford demonstration, in August 1884. Why has a flight so seemingly monumental in its time been relegated to the dustbin of history?

Given his eccentric nature and creativity, it’s easy to root for Ritchel and think of him as a Nikola Tesla-like genius robbed of his rightful place in history. The reality of why his feat was forgotten is more complicated. As Tom Crouch, an emeritus curator at the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum, says, it’s possible Ritchel’s craft was the first to complete a round-trip dirigible flight. But other aircraft in existence at the time probably could have accomplished the same feat in favorable conditions. “La France made the first serious round-trip,” Crouch says.

Additionally, while Ritchel’s machine worked to a point, it wasn’t a pathway to more advanced dirigibles. Richard DeLuca, author of Paved Roads & Public Money: Connecticut Transportation in the Age of Internal Combustion, points out that the hand-cranked nature of Ritchel’s craft made it nearly impossible to operate with any kind of wind. “On the first day, he got away with it and directed the ship out and over the river and back to where he started, and that was quite an accomplishment,” DeLuca says. “But the conditions were just right for him to do that.”

Dan Grossman, an aviation historian at the University of Washington, has never come across evidence that any later pioneers of more advanced dirigible flights were influenced by Ritchel. “There are a lot of firsts in history that got forgotten because they never led to a second,” Grossman says.

An artist's depiction of the La France airship Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

The day after their first successful public outdoor flight in Hartford, Quinlan and Ritchel tried again at that same ballfield. This time, the weather was less cooperative, and the wind came in sharp gusts. Still, the pair persisted in their attempt. “Little Quinlan, even if he does only weigh 96 pounds, has confidence and nerve enough to go up in a gale,” the Sun reported. Up he went about 200 feet, but this time, the wind carried him away with more force. Quinlan was “seen throwing his vertical fan into gear, and by its aid, the aerial ship turned around, pointing its head in whatever direction he chose to give it.” Although he could move the ship about, “he could not make any headway against the strong wind.”

Quinlan descended about 100 feet, trying to catch a different current, but the wind still pushed him away from the ballfield. He raised the craft, this time going higher than 200 feet, but still couldn’t overcome the wind and was soon swept off toward New Haven, vanishing from sight like some real-world Wizard of Oz.

Eventually, Quinlan safely brought the airship down in Newington, about five miles away from Hartford. The inventor and his pilot were unfazed by this setback. They held more public exhibitions that year with a mix of success and failure—including an incident that nearly cost Quinlan his life. During a July 4 exhibition in Boston, the machine malfunctioned and continued to rise, soaring to what the Boston Globe estimated to be 2,000 feet. Quinlan couldn’t get the propeller to work, and the craft continued to rise, reaching as high as 3,000 feet.

Terrified but quick-thinking, Quinlan tied his wrist and ankle to the craft and swung out of his seat to fix the propeller, using a jack-knife he happened to have on him as a makeshift tool. The daring midair repairs worked, and the craft gradually descended. Quinlan landed in Massachusetts, 44 miles from his starting destination, after a 1-hour, 20-minute flight.

Per Grossman, the human-powered method Ritchel attempted to utilize was doomed from the start. “In the absence of an internal combustion engine, there really was no control of lighter-than-air flight,” he says.

Ritchel stubbornly refused to consider powering dirigibles with engines and did not foresee how powerful a better-designed aircraft truly could be.

“I have overcome the fatal objection of which has always been made to the practicability of aerial navigation—that is, I have made a machine that can be steered,” Ritchel told a reporter in July 1878. “I claim no more. I have never pretended that a balloon can be made to go against the wind, and I am sure it never could. It is as ridiculous as a perpetual motion machine, and the latter will be invented just as soon as the former.”

Left: A page from Ritchel's ballooning scrapbook National Air and Space Museum Archives. Right: The scrapbook covers the years 1878 to 1901. Photographs: National Air and Space Museum Archives

Even so, Ritchel was influential in his own way. “He was one of the first to really come up with the notion of a little one-man, bicycle-powered airship, and those things were around into the early 20th century,” says Crouch. After Ritchel, other daring inventors launched similar pedal-powered airships. Carl Myers, for example, held demonstrations of a device he called the “Sky-Cycle” in the 1890s.

Ritchel stands as one of the fascinating early aeronauts whose work blurred the line between science and the sideshow. “I refer to them as aerial showmen, these guys who came up with the notion of making money [by] thrilling people [with] their exploits in the air,” Crouch says.

According to Crouch’s 1983 book, The Eagle Aloft: Two Centuries of the Balloon in America, Ritchel and Quinlan took the airship on tour with a traveling circus in the late 1870s. Ritchel also operated his machine at Brighton Beach near Coney Island. He sold a few replicas of his device and later attempted to develop a larger, long-distance version of the craft powered by an 11-person hand-cranking crew. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this idea failed to gain momentum, and Ritchel faded from the headlines. Soon, the exploits of new aeronauts would upstage him, among them Alberto Santos-Dumont’s circumnavigation of the Eiffel Tower in 1901.

Left: Alberto Santos-Dumont's first balloon, 1898. Right: Santos-Dumont circles the Eiffel Tower in an airship on July 13, 1901. Photographs: Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

Despite many earlier dirigible flights, Crouch and Grossman agree that the technology only became practical when German Count Ferdinand von Zeppelin built and flew the first rigid dirigible in the early 1900s. Over the first decade of the new century, Zeppelin perfected his namesake design, which featured a fabric-covered metal frame that enclosed numerous gasbags. “By 1913, just before [World War I] begins, Zeppelin is actually running sightseeing tours over German cities,” Crouch says, “so the Zeppelin at that point can safely carry passengers and take off and land from the same point.”

For a brief period, airships ruled the sky. (The spire of New York City’s Empire State Building, built in the 1930s, was famously intended as a docking station for passenger airships.) But the vehicles, which use gas to create buoyancy, were quickly eclipsed by airplanes, which achieve flight through propulsion that generates airflow over the craft’s wings.

While the 1937 Hindenburg disaster is often viewed as the end of the dirigible era, Grossman says that’s a misconception: The real death knell for passenger airships arrived when Pan American Airways’ China Clipper, a new breed of amphibious aircraft, flew from San Francisco to Manila in November 1935. “Partly because they flew faster, they could transport more weight, whether it’s people or cargo, mail, whatever, in the same amount of time,” Grossman explains. “They were less expensive to operate, they required much, much smaller crews, [and] they were less expensive to build.”

Airplanes were also safer. “Zeppelins have to fly low and slow,” Crouch says. “They operate in the weather; airplanes don’t. An airplane at 30,000 feet is flying above the weather. Weather, time after time, is what brought dirigibles down.”

Today, niche applications for passenger airships endure, including the Zeppelin company’s European tours, as well as ultra-luxury air yachts and air cruises. But “it’s always going to be a tiny, tiny slice of the transportation pie,” Grossman says.

Crouch agrees. “People still talk about bringing back big, rigid airships. That hasn’t happened yet, and I don’t think it will,” he says.

The USS Los Angeles, a United States Navy airship, in 1931. Photograph Public Domain Via Wikimedia Commons

In some ways, Ritchel’s flying machine was a microcosm of the larger history of dirigibles: fascinating, fun and the perfect fodder for fiction, but ultimately eclipsed by more efficient technology.

As for Ritchel, he died, penniless, of pneumonia in 1911 at age 66. “Although during his lifetime he had perfected inventions that, in the hands of others, had brought in great wealth, he died a poor man, as he lacked the business ability to turn the children of his brain to the best advantage to himself,” wrote the Bridgeport Post in his obituary.

Even so, the public had not forgotten the brief time three decades earlier when Ritchel and his airship ruled the skies. As the Boston Evening Transcript reported, his flights captured “the attention of the world. In every country and in every language, newspapers and magazines of the day printed long stories of the wonderful feats performed by the Bridgeport aviator and his marvelous machine, of which nothing short of a cruise to the North Pole was expected.”

— Erik Ofgang is the co-author of The Good Vices: From Beer to Sex, The Surprising Truth About What’s Actually Good For You and the author of Buzzed: A Guide to New England's Best Craft Beverages and Gillette Castle: A History. His work has appeared in the Washington Post, the Atlantic, Thrillist and the Associated Press, and he is the senior writer at Tech & Learning magazine.

[cainluvr69]

Let Me Tell You The Story Of A Rainbow - Chapter 23

Previous Chapter

Rutile: …Maybe it'd be a moonless night. One where you can only see the stars twinkling above. Or snow could be falling, or rain could be pouring down, or there could even be a raging storm that very night…it's all the same.

Akira: …Yeah.

It felt like Rutile's understanding smile was pushing me forward. I kept talking.

Akira: If I never opened my curtains, I never would've had the chance to see the scenery beyond my window.

Even though what I was saying was a little disorganized and honestly a little out there, no one tried to cut me off or stop me.

Akira: Miss Luca.

The delicate rainbow scales from Roxy's wings had dusted over Luca's cheeks, like makeup carefully applied to a porcelain doll. How beautiful, I thought.

Akira: Is there really nothing besides the world inside your picture books that calls to you? No lands you've seen outside your window, nothing else you've done in the world outside? If you let yourself become a part of this world, you'll never have a chance to see or do anything else outside again. It'll all be lost to you. …And I think that…it'd be a terrible shame to let it all go to waste like that.

I hadn't even realized that I'd extended my hand towards Luca until the moment my fingers gently brushed against her cheek. But at the same moment I did, the mess of vines shuddered, and her chrysalis of flowers began the final steps needed to finish swallowing her up forever.

Rutile: Master Sage…!

But I wasn't the vines' target--they went after Rutile, catching him when he was off balance from trying to protect me.

Mithra: <Arthim>

The moment the vines chose Rutile as their target, though, Mithra's magic lashed out. It was automatic, instinctual, unhesitating. And for a moment, the world around us…strained. A chill of anxiety ran down my spine, and then the ground below us began to scream.

Akira: …?!

The world began to shake harder than it ever had before and, more worryingly, began to tilt as fissures ripped themselves open in the ground. My wizards responded immediately, taking to the air on their brooms. I, too, was tucked securely against Rutile's back.

Mithra: Rutile, are you hurt?

Rutile: N-no. But, Mithra, your spell…!

Mithra: I can't be bothered to hold myself back anymore. How that girl chooses to erase herself has nothing to do with me. And you are far more important to me than she is.

Rutile: But…

Mithra: Those who give up on living are bound to die either way. There's no encouragement you can give that'll pull those who chose to continue living as cowards, never finding their own pride, out of that. They're already nothing more than corpses whose vital signs haven't quit yet. I'd rather just die than let that happen to me.

Murr: What about if they just haven't had the opportunity to find that pride yet?

Mithra: Excuse me…?

A cheery voice with a keen, intellectual edge to it cut into the conversation. Murr sat astride his broom, head tilted to one side, his gaze needle-sharp and just as good at piercing to the heart of things.

Murr: Living a life without anything to spur me forward is flat out impossible for me, too! That said, I have my beloved. It's hanging in the sky right now. Of course, my love for it is what smashed my soul to pieces. But despite that, I still yearn endlessly for the moon, trying to get close to it time and time again. And I'm sure that will never change no matter how many times it shatters me. I can't imagine myself living a life where I'm not in love with the moon!

Shylock: ……

Rutile: …For Luca, this world is a precious treasure she's had since the day she was born. I…I can't even imagine how painful it is for her that she's losing it. She must feel like her heart is being pulled in two…reality can be cruel. But… But I still want to hope that there's still joys and bright prospects just waiting for her to find them. She just hasn't lived long enough yet. And I'm absolutely certain that the "pride" you're talking about, Mithra, something similar to Murr's love of the moon, is somewhere in their number.

Akira: Rutile…

Rutile frowned sadly, clutching his hands to his chest. He slowly closed his sincerely shining eyes, the color of freshly sprouted grass, and then opened them again. It seemed like there was something specific on his mind.

Rutile: And…I can't forget her smile. I won't forget it. She looked so happy when she ate the sugar I made for her. And the face she made when Murr made that shower of sugar shined so brightly, too… …And we saw Mister Aslan in the pieces of Luca's memories. When he was exposed to a world he knew nothing about and showed interest in it. For that to have been sealed into one of these pearls means that it's a memory as precious to her as the time she's spent with her friends, right?

Mithra: …

Shino: Listen up, Luca!

Shino sliced his way through the encroaching vines, confidently facing Luca as he made his declaration.

Shino: I'm someone who had to look for the place where I belong, too! I totally get how hiding yourself in your own little world feels so much better than facing how awful reality is. But when I pulled myself out of mine, I met the single most precious person in the world. That meeting changed my life. Meeting him was like…it was like the world suddenly had color now, that's how much it changed. And I bet there's someone out there, someone or something, that when you meet 'em, it'll completely change how you view yourself. Obviously I can't promise anything, but…isolating yourself means you'll never even have the chance of that happening. If you just shut your eyes to everything, then everything's gonna ignore you, too. And right now's the best time to be brave about it!

There was no slowing down the curling, twisting vines, but there was no stopping Shino, either. He was opening a path to Luca through the vines--and Arthur was the one who took it.

Arthur: Luca Carroll! I was overjoyed to have the chance to meet such a talented artist as yourself. You see, I love this beautiful world that I was lucky enough to be born into. Through your art I got to see landscapes I'd never seen before, and that made me love this world even more than I already did. I want to know everything about this world I live in. And I want you to tell me about a world that I don't know. A world I've never seen. A world I didn't even know existed! Even if you one day lose that world…your experiences within it can never be taken from you. I am certain that there are things that only you can do, that only you can share because you've lived in this world. And…I am sure that your memories of this beautiful world won't fade easily. Not only the memories you have now, but the ones you will make in the future as well. And when you make them, would you be so kind as to tell me more about this world that you love so much?

The vines began targeting Arthur, but they got kicked off course by the one and only Murr.

Murr: I wanna know more about your friends, too! There's so many things in the world that you see, that you illustrate, that don't exist in aaaany literature or documentation in the whole wide world. And that makes you a super special reference for them! Because, hey, even if you stop being able to see them, if you come back out to the outside world, you can look for a method to see them again! How's that sound? It up and disappearing on you is a waste, I agree, but I think that deciding that that's the end of everything is even more of a waste. If it were me, I'd keep searching to the ends of the earth for a way to see the ones I love again! I think there's way more value in chasing after something you're willing to stake your life on, instead of just up and dying here. I mean, you've got the rest of your long wizard life ahead of you!

As my wizards spoke, I felt like I could see the movements of the vines slow down a little. Like they were hesitating about something.

Aslan: …Luca.

His voice trailed off…but I could still hear the heart he was putting into his words. Aslan had regained consciousness. As if in response to the sound of his voice, the vines and even the flowers that held Luca in their ephemeral embrace stilled their movements, calming down. Arthur weaved his way through the vines down to Luca's side, and Aslan slid off his broom. He approached Luca with unsteady legs and Arthur's support. And as he took each step he spoke--or sang, perhaps, his voice the gentle, almost melodic sound that, say, a man not too used to singing lullabies would have as he tried to sing one for his adopted daughter after she had a nightmare.

Aslan: …I was dreaming. I dreamt of the day when you first told me about the beautiful world that I can't see. Of the gentle smile you had while you told me about your beloved friends. I'm truly so, so sorry that…I didn't realize you weren't able to see those friends anymore. …You must have felt so scared. You must've felt like you were going to lose everything important to you.

Aslan gently stroked Luca's hair, and I thought I saw her long eyelashes flutter.

Aslan: But you know, Luca. Just because you can't see them doesn't mean they don't exist anymore. They'll always be right at your side, watching over you. …Don't you think so?

Roxy made a perfect circle in the air and then landed on Luca's chest. The glittering rainbow scales that scattered whenever it flapped its wings seemed to shine even brighter against the backdrop of this faded, collapsing world.

Rutile: Please, Luca. Accept your memories back into you. I know that right now you're terrified of having to say goodbye to this irreplaceable world full of your friends, but… I'm sure you can find things to love in the world outside your picture books, too. I won't say that the real world is nothing but fun and smiles, but there's still so many beautiful places to see and people to form special, one of a kind bonds with.

Rutile and I held out our hands to Luca together, presenting her with the six pearls once again.

Rutile: Your very brave friends did their best to keep these precious memories safe. That's why we were able to gather them all together in one place. Say, Luca. Did you know? My dream is to create and publish my own picture books one day, too. I want to draw all of the Sage's wizards and create a wonderful, warm-hearted story. So, I'd like to be your friend. Because I'd like to protect your world…and you yourself, of course.

Akira: Me, too… I want to talk with you so much more, Miss Luca. There's so many things I want to ask you about. It won't be like what's in your world, but…how about we go looking for new sights and sounds and places that make your heart dance? Maybe it'll be the differences in how the sun sets every evening, or in a sky that has stars spilling out of it, or maybe a cheery, noisy breakfast time…

Murr: Hey, do you like stars? Let's go to the Observatory of the Unknown and you can use its telescope to look at all the stars you want! I'll introduce you to the love of my life, too. The sea of sparkling stars vanishes once the sun rises, but we'll be able to meet it again once the sun sinks past the horizon line. So we can stay there for as many days as you want!

Arthur: In Northern Country, the sight of the morning sun over a pristine silver field of snow is beautiful enough to take your breath away. And those breaths will turn white right in front of you. It never gets old to me, no matter how many times I see it happen. There are frozen lakes you can skate over the top of, or you could open a hole in the ice and try your hand at fishing. I'd love it if I could share how fun these things are with you.

Shino: There's nothing as pretty as the rays of sunlight you see deep in the forest. I'll take you to a good place and you can see 'em for yourself.

Rutile: Oh, I can take you to Tycho Lake! We can go shell hunting. The shells there, when you crush them and mix them up just right, they can turn into amazing paints.

Mithra: …Do I need to say something too? Well, dying is something you can do whenever. If you leave and decide you'd really rather not be out there, I can turn you to stone on the spot if you'd like. And if you decide you'd like to stay, then…perhaps you'd like to ferry some corpses across the lake with me?

Just then, the pearls in my hand began to glow. They floated into the air towards Luca, as if drawn to her, and once they'd all gathered above her chest they melted into a single, shining pearl. Beyond the dazzling light, I saw Luca's eyes quietly flutter open. Her pale, bloodless lips moved weakly.

Luca: …I…want to see… …The sweet, sparkly rain…again.

Next Chapter

[glumet-shadow]

Okay guys so recently ive been really loving custom dolls (debated about making my own) and though hey why not make a shu x reader fic where reader loves custom dolls and even makes some. So here is my rough idea!

Shu Itsuki x Doll loving reader

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So as we all hopefully know, Shu loves dolls. His favorite being Mademoiselle. Shu might offer to help make clothing, but dont show him the modifications on bodies. He may scream. If you have an interest in BJD (Ball jointed dolls) dolls he may let you use Mademoiselle as a reference if you sculpt them yourself. He loves to watch you do what many call a 'face up' (basically drawing a face on the doll after removing factory paint if it was a premade doll.) He might suggest good doll brands (most customizers love monster high due to good molds and articulation). He would love fantasy dolls probably. And when a custom ooak (one of a kind) doll video is uploaded he may ask Mika to watch it with you. He especially loves collabs between doll artists. One video he fell in love with was Dollightfull's Steampunk collab.(Valkyrie is steampunk if you didnt know) And he probably watches it a lot.

Of course this has its downsides as well. Shu would be terrified of you customizing Mademoiselle. But if you are a digital doll artist he wouldnt have that fear. Shu definitely loves fashion dolls, so sharing that interest is lovely to him! Just dont let him watch any of Dollightful's dragon videos (he will cry probably). Might even start creating his own to model Valkyrie outfits at a smaller scale. Because it would use less fabric and all.

A shared love of dolls is perfect! Especially when shu is in love.

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Little note, below this I will add Yandere headcannons for this as well!

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So yan shu would also love your love of dolls. But if you spend too much time on customs he will be sad. Unless you share your work area which would be convenient for everyone. Fabrics are all in the same spot. And he could also use your dolls as models for clothes and get a good idea of what you like for designing.

Now if you are a digital doll sculptor shu may use unconventional methods to learn your style. Such as opening your computer when you arent around. He might even ask to use it (after learning how to). But if you have vroid (a 3d software for anime vtube models) shu may use that as reference for new designs. When you talk to others about customs you worked on together he might be mad. Especially if you talk to Eichi about it. Heaven forbid you talk to Eichi about a heaven themed doll and he will blow his top. Of course some of his favorite customs are steampunk theme. It shows you pay attention to what he likes (if its a coincidence and you didnt he acts delusional). Of course he would love every doll you make (eyes the blonde haired ones). He also would love if you made an eccentric themed doll (if you know you know). Or one that looked like him!

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And im done, if youd like I can continue this headcanon with mika and others.

[redlenai]

Another intersex person here to say that it's fine to have intersex ocs with "unrealistic" anatomy, so long as you actually know what realistic intersex anatomy is like and you aren't stereotyping us/using porn stereotypes as a refrence to what we actually look like.

Clitorophalluses are usually small because those are the only ones that can get by without being operated on, but I have personally seen intersex people who were not subjected to childhood mutilation have ones that were much larger than mine, (about 4"-5"). What a lot of intersex people believe is "unrealistic representation" is actually just what some of us would have looked like if we weren't surgically "corrected" on a massive scale.

So long as you understand what intersex actually means and avoid stereotypes of us being cosexual/having both reproductive systems, and you aren't Using the h slur (or translations of it like f-ta) go ahead and make whatever intersex characters you'd like. Representation is good, actually.

If you want to make cosexual characters, that's also good, just make sure you appropriately label them as cosexual/bigenital etc as not to conflate cosexual anatomy with being intersex, because that's a very very old stereotype.

Hi there! Thank you so much for your feedback! Regarding the anatomy of my character, I based it from a few pictures, of course, some of them are illustrations from educative/informative blogs, like this one (My character's anatomy was done resembling a variant in between the first and second ones in the middle of the image)

While researching back in 2013 and onwards, both in Tumblr and other blogs, I've seen several examples, illustrations and other variations from Intersex artists and bloggers, I personally tried my best to not go to what is commonly seen with h or f-ta as sadly the intersex tags are used for those, not only as I believe there should be variations but because I considered to do that, in an artistic perspective, as a lazy solution (Not saying this badly to absolutely anyone who draws it that way either! But its how I personally feel while going out of my comfort zone)

I'm familiar with the experiences of mutilation and non-consensual operations, as part of my research and listening to several voices of the community, in my character's case, he hasn't gotten any surgery, so I'm glad to know that my depiction of his anatomy is not entirely wrong and that it could be seen in reality.

My Derek was originally a Sim in The Sims 2, of course, the game only has male and female options, but as my most beloved sim I took him outside the game, still keeping aspects of his core personality and external appearance or even sometimes changing it entirely, alongside his interests, hobbies and other things, I just love putting him in scenarios and explore how things turn out. And this constant practice, while a bit embarrasing to say it since I feel like showing off, I was told by other people that has picked interested in my oc (And have seen him act out of character, canonically, or the different alternative universes, fandoms, RolePlaying campaigns, I've placed him), that I put a lot of care in storytelling and character creation and I also got scolded about saying that "He is like a Barbie doll" because they thought he didn't had a canonically personality, just a vessel filled with my current hyperfixations.

I believe my greatest sin or stereotype would be the fact that he is androgynous, yes, intersex people don't look that way, there are cases but just like non binary people, none own others androgyny, but well... knowing that the main inspiration for Derek is Ryo Asuka, to many it would make sense and also be a lack of creativity on my part, yet when you see my other characters, is a bit easy to know about the things I like and its a pattern I have, I'm not the type that wants to look 100% original, but to get people to point a finger and say out loud "Omg! Do you like X?!?!? Because your oc reminds me of it!" Derek's father, for example is heavily inspired on Castiel from Supernatural. (I love this blog entry, because I now find it funny that while Derek was always going between being male or intersex out of fear of judgement and not always talked openly about it, I had a harder time accepting him being bi, lmao)

And onto the last part to not make this longer than what it already is, I know that externally Derek looks like he is bigenital. And that's something that these past days I've been thinking, as he originally isn't human, so I could say I did fall in the stereotype of doing that and mistaking cosexuality with intersexuality, as he is not really set in stone (No comic, nor novel that would tie me down, and even so, I don't see anything wrong with retconing).

But, that kind of clicked in my mind and now I can't get this out of my head. Yes, Derek looks bigenital on the outside, but in the inside that would be a different story (Let's keep it at he can have babies, but can't get anyone pregnant unless magic is involved), I could still make him cosexual and call it a day, but knowing from other asks I've received and people that reached out to me in private about him, I now feel unsure if to change him to not cause trouble, or to keep him intersex. I know there'll be people that agree and others would disagree, just as much I've received some touching messages about him looking exactly like them. I'm trying to handle this with care and responsability, even if now I feel conflicted about the weight of it.

[autisticandroids]

Ask meme 1., 5. and 16. :3c

[questions here]

1. Describe your journey this year in three words

many new things!

^here i am referring to writing all those rarepairs and kind of working in unexplored (to me) places rather than retreading known ground with a fine toothed comb. which honestly now that i think of it isn't THAT new, i used to usually be like, a rarepair guy. i nearly always picked like, a pairing other than The Big One in a fandom to fixate on. hell, i used to do @trek-rarepair-swap every month, but that's a little different. part of it is that i was legitimately invested in a few "rarepairs" such that i was actually more interested in them than the main pairing. i actively disliked garashir, which is funny bc i like both garak and bashir and enjoyed shipping both with other people (in fact my biggest ds9 ships were sisko/garak and bashir/o'brien), but their dynamic with each other annoyed me. i could put a thousand word ramble here or i could say it annoyed me. anyway the other reason is that, shamefully, back then i wasn't really above the "smashing dolls together" method of rarepairing. a lot of the work i produced back then was not what i would call "up to snuff." anyway. it's been new, producing rarepair work that's "up to snuff." and the way i fixated on rarepairs in a non-rarepairswap context is more like how i fixate on destiel. i still spent all my time retreading the same ground to develop my thoughts, there was just less ground.

5. A scene you enjoyed creating

oooooh this is hard! it's also totally going to bias towards more recent stuff. also there's a big difference between "scene i enjoyed thinking about as i was planning it" and "scene i enjoyed writing down." some things are fun to have the idea for but writing them involves a lot of screaming and crying and throwing up.

so i guess ill give two answers.

first is the entirety of the mind plays tricks, which is just one scene. so for this fic i had a prompt and i was really struggling with, i guess, coming up with a good idea for it? like i was really bashing my head against it. and then like. i woke up one morning. and the previous day i had spent all day working on every relationship has its stuff, like a lot of really grueling effortful writing. and then that morning i just sat bolt upright in bed with the perfect idea and just wrote it in like an hour and a half. i honestly felt kinda bad that it was so short? i felt like i hadn't put enough effort in. but i was also like, really really happy with it and i could not think of anything more to add. like i could not think of any additions that wouldn't make it less punchy, ya know?

and then on the other end of the scale, a scene which i had a great time thinking up but a was like pulling teeth to actually write, you've got the cas sex ed scene from erhis, which is so short i'm going to reproduce it here in its entirety:

Cas is standing in the library when Jack walks in. His back is to the door, but Jack can feel his father watching him.

He goes to stand next to Cas. Cas reaches out, puts an arm around his shoulder. Jack leans against him.

“So, how are things with Harper?” Cas says it casually but there is a jolt of energy behind the words that he isn’t letting out on the human plane.

“They’re good. She likes me.”

Cas squeezes him a little tighter. He can feel Cas’ tendrils around him again. He couldn't, as a human.

“Dean told me that I should have a discussion with you about intimacy.” He’s looking at Jack now.

“Um,” Jack starts, “I think Dean uh, mostly covered it…”

“There are elements that we experience that I don’t think Dean will understand.” We. Oh. Of course. “I want to share…” Jack feels Cas’ consciousness begin to entwine with his and realizes what’s about to happen. He pulls back.

“I don’t want to know what it’s like to have sex with Dean.” The words come out sharper than he intended, and Cas’ face falls. Jack can feel him wilting. “Sorry,” he adds, trying to save things.

“Are you sure?” Cas asks.

“Yeah. I just- sorry.”

Suddenly Cas is holding him with both arms, face in his shoulder.

“Dean says you’re growing up,” he murmurs. Jack feels it more than hears it. He raises an arm and pats Cas on the back, the way he’s seen Dean do.

and like as you can see from this post i made months previously, the concept of that scene was already in my head for a long time. and it was a lot of fun to play with. but when it came to actually writing the scene, it was like torture. i eventually found that to make it actually work and flow with the story, i needed it to be less comic and more tragic, which was a bit sad because i liked how funny it was in my head, but i did enjoy the tragic parts once they were down on the page.

16. Something interesting you researched as part of the process

so the stuff i write doesn't necessarily involve a ton of research. i'm not really doing casefic or plotty things, the kind of writing you're likely to need research for. most of the research i did was geographical? i know i did some research for wink in terms of what a journalist's day to day looks like and what kind of jobs cassie might be looking for in missouri and stuff, but i dont actually really remember it too well. the most memorable thing i remember finding out was that panera bread started in missouri in i think 1999. oh i also researched period accurate starbucks menus lol. i think the most interesting factoid i came across researching is that i needed a spot for jack and harper to go for a date in erhis so i sent them to the center of the contiguous united states, which is the only tourist destination in lebanon, except apparently the actual center is on private property so the monument is like a half mile off. We Live In A Society.

[pyr0cue]

WAHOO thank you for answering my ask!!

while i certainly agree that satanic aspects in horror movies is, at this point, kinda beating a dead horse, but i think it's also considered the 'root' of all horror, in a western sense at least. unfortunate because it sort of shoulders away not only other religions, but other wild ass concepts like how far you can push something like Cosmic horror, but at the same time, i feel like Longlegs can even be viewed through THAT lens, simply because there's a lot of 'well, what if?' scenarios.

like for example! Lee's 'psychic' abilities- i've seen people come up with ideas that Lee isn't psychic at all and it being even kinda confirmed in the film with her saying 'i also missed eight,' when discussing how she got eight right on her test, so she's right half the time, which isn't really that remarkable, it's only made remarkable because of the scale of the things she predicts (her partner not listening to her, being the biggest)- but it could also be something as it's not her at all, it's simply Longlegs in her head. at the point of her predictions she was still 'possessed' to a degree, Ruth begged Longlegs to not hurt her, who's to say he wouldn't go out of his way to drop little hints and gut feelings for her, for the sake of keeping something he perceived as a 'little angel' safe? but also, why would someone so evil really care in the first place? what does Longlegs believe he's doing? is it human at all, or something else? is it really dead? i think its neat!

i do feel that towing the line of uncanny valley with a character like Longlegs would be interesting- making limbs longer, doing something that just makes him a bit more unnerving to look at would be a tight rope to try and walk. i think the details of his makeup now, wary as it may be to some viewers, was excellent in the 'what am i LOOKING at' type of way- how is hair looked punched in like the dolls, his eyes that were difficult to look at for long, how he looked like a 'something isnt right' with how he spoke and moved- i think they made a good representation of what a nightmare could look like, or what the antichrist would present itself as. his appearance of course is going to stir the pot, and i think that may be intentional, because people are going to try and make sense of a walking nightmare, of something evil, and some peoples nightmares may be something that just doesnt look right, while others may be horrified to see a nightmarish portrayal of an overplayed stereotype that may, inevitably, harm them. kind of like a pennywise in a way? but then again, i may be looking into that aspect way too much!

i really think like comparing it to Silence of the Lambs was something that was't really intended, but more of a way for the director to be like 'it fits in this category' of a thriller/ crime-genre, this with supernatural undertones, to the point where i'd compare it more to something like Sinister despite how silly that movie got towards the end. the plots are pretty similar, with a wildly different protagonist, but again with the 'it's a demon!/ it's got something to do with satan!' aspect kind of shoveled in. it had a lot of people going in expecting something different and walked out disappointed because it wasn't that, and at the end kind of boiled down to 'this antichrist-adjacent character uses dolls and balls and a loving mother to commit horrible atrocities', and i can see where people are like 'thaaat is not the type of horror i like, that's actually pretty silly.' i think theres some substance to chew on even if the film feels a little hand holdy, because there's always a question that can be asked that sometimes doesn't have an obvious answer. BUT!!! that is why we have opinions!!!!! and thats important!!!!

HOWEVER, yes, the marketing deserves all the praise it can get, it stirred up an audience already pretty well fed when it comes to horror this year and made a ton of money, and i hope they get their cut because it is WELL deserved.

i am YAPPING but honestly fr you get it- saw 5's banter was top tier for the franchise, and as a big hoffman fan myself, for sure one of the best ones. 6 is near and dear not only because the traps but the very loud and blatant 'hey the way shit is run through dogpits picking out errors from the sick needing help sucks, actually' which is, as faaarr as i remember, one of the loudest messages from the saw franchise (other than, like, 'dont be an asshole,' i guess?).

5 did have HoffStahm golden moments and the glass coffin - and Strahms death is probably the one that actually made me gagging in the theater with just the brutality of it. here's to the next one with (hopefully) some more hoffman because his little ending in the most recent with john & the tummy tickler trap has me hoping we'll see some more of him :""")

Again I do like this reading it’s so much more interesting then what i got out of the movie lmaooo im choosing to think about it your way because it’s so much more fun than what I walked away feeling

I think you are super right about the difference between expectations and reality, I actually didn’t read anything or watch more than the first trailer because I find I like movies more when I don’t go in with a lot of prior knowledge. But I definitely let the rounds of “this is the scariest film I’ve ever seen!” Get to me, so I think I walked in wanting a film that was very scary rather than more of a story focused film. And yeah I think it’s just not my cup of tea, if my horror film is story based i want much more thought out and nuanced story than I felt I got with longlegs (I am spoiled by Jordan peele and Ari aster lol) but as much as I think the story wasn’t well thought out in reality it DOES give a lot of room for speculation and filing in the gaps

I do like the speculation about Lee’s abilities, and I do subscribe to the theory that they’re somehow tied to her doll/its ‘brain!’ My biggest question walking away from the film was ‘why are the brains so significant in the dolls?’ I like to think it’s longlegs way of making them feel whole, and the satanic stuff was incidental in why Lee could sense stuff from them, that they’re a part of the child they’re made for and not special on purpose. But it’s probably connected to a satanic ritual if I had to guess? Idk, I think there are some interesting questions left I’m just not sure if they were intentional.

I also think my favorite part of the story was longlegs being connected to Lee’s mom, but I really wish there’d been a bit more of a build up to it, and I wish Lee was more of a PI than an FBI agent, I feel like a lot of the crime/thriller aspects were ruined by how fast the crime got solved in favor of Satan. I did love the dynamic between her and Lee tho, the character work in this movie was really good!!

And yeah, I don’t really think longlegs is like….intentionally calling to some stereotypes I think it was just something they thought would be creepy and didn’t think about the implications of. And I can definitely see the makeup and voice and everything being creepy, i also went in after watching 2 nick cage movies with some friends and the whole time i could NOT unhear cage which ruined that effect. Word of advice, don’t watch more than one nick cage movie at a time all you will see is nick cage

YESS I love how like 90% of the saw franchise is like being an addict is bad get saw trapped and suddenly saw 6 is like “the systems of capitalism we live in promote dishonesty and immorality because exploiting people for money is easier than being honest” with a side of “im john Kramer and you fucked me over” my favorite switch up ever. It also has the added benefit of the gallows trap where jigsaw just bullies that young guy for not having any friends, I love that one. The oxygen crusher too…man that was evil and I would die immediately (<- asthmatic) so i can like. Feel that one everytime I watch the movie

I always say the only franchise I support is saw because. Well I think they are fun. I really do hope we finish Hoffman’s story and I hope they continue the tradition of showing “the younger version of himself” by smacking on a backwards baseball hat.