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glassrowboat · 4 months

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Selfess. Kim Dokja.

Summary: The irony, to be a reader's reader. To view his story in between breaks at work, between sick days and vacations, as words flickered before you the same way they did for him on the subway. Digital words trying to break down every little aspect of a man you know hurts inside with a raw passion. Like scraped skin meeting air for the first time. It made you want to hold him, to listen to him, to comfort him, but Dokja always held you at arms length in some way, even if it was so subtle no one but you could sense it.

Author's Note: This has no spoilers for the manhwa readers but was written for those who have gone through the entire novel

Word Count: 3500+

Written for 'Help Me, Hold Me' a collab by @tomuras

Selfishness. A human trait. One bled into society to the point it has been ingrained in every sidewalk; every ruined shop with shelves toppled over from those searching desperately for food, only to find nothing; every hand held out waiting to be held; and every moment that passes by while you're selfish enough to dare to take another breath. Possibly robbing another of their own air to fill their lungs.

Should you stop and risk apologizing?

No, there was never the time to spare.

Too selfish to stop and give those few precious seconds to another person as they cry for aid or in pure, unbridled wrath as you kill the person next to them. Throat squeezed between your bare hands even after their pulse faded away. Only letting go because you were pushed off. Having, at the time, been shoved to the ground as a murderer just like you rose a pipe so high you couldn't imagine it doing anything other than crashing into your skull as it fell.

Whenever that memory comes up, it somehow always leaves a dull ache in your head, like you're remembering the times that metal became one with your bones and brain. Shattering on impact with a sickening thud that left you feeling sick before it all went black.

That would make sense, after all, wouldn’t it? That man having been the one to end it all for you time and time again, so you never end up making it past that first scenario. (Much like a certain someone.)

The first challenge that faced everyone in this dome.

The one that made everyone in it a murderer.

Self-serving.

Self-centered.

Self-regarding.

That's what you all were.

Even him, having dared to make a request of you.

Even as Dokja rested in your lap, black hair tickling your thighs that had you wondering if shorts really were a good idea for sleepwear even if it was the dead of summer and it's annoyingly high temps that left you sweating even when a sword wasn't grasped in hand. Calluses you never thought you'd have carding through the sleeping man's tresses. Absent-minded as you kept your blurred gaze on him.

It was decided the lot of you would hole up here for the night even with the cracks in the foundation that had you second-guessing the structural integrity, but you had been assured it's fine. Like an office worker had any right to assure you of that, but you still shut your mouth at that and nodded along.

“Sure, Ugly,” on your lips. A teasing smile meeting his grimace at the moniker Dokja never failed to show his hatred for.

Good for him. He can be pissy all he wants. If anything, it just makes you tempted to take your phone out and snatch a picture. That is, if it wasn't shattered to a thousand pieces by now and tossed into the waters below. Fish food now, much like Dokja was after Yoo Joonghyuk dropped him off the bridge.

He doesn't appreciate that joke either.

You had insisted on being the one to stay up, to keep watch even as he fought you the entire way as you and the kids wrangled him into laying down. Gilyoung had kicked your shin for pointing out Dokja's eye bags as he finally laid down. White coat folded up in a bundle, far from neatly at that, and tucked under his head in place of a pillow.

This time, you chose to hold your tongue from joking about his mother never teaching him how to do laundry.

So you sat and waited, brushing off the dirt from the assault the evil little creature (or as you liked to call the kid as you pinched his cheeks) left on you. Footprint easily blending in with all the other layers of dirt you have accrued over the past few days without a proper bath. Wet wipes only proved to be a decent substitution for so long. The sun slowly dipped behind concrete towers until being swallowed away by the waters to come back tomorrow, the moon rising in its stead.

Glowing brighter than you could ever recall it doing before this world turned to shit. The lack of street lamps probably helped. Even if the stars were out, almost so close you could reach out and touch them. Card your fingers through the Milky Way like it was a pot of glitter from an arts and crafts project.

“I know you're still awake.” You finally said after you were one hundred percent certain the kids were passed out. Blankets no longer stirred from trying to get comfortable on the hard floor, and Yoosung's mutterings flowed into her habit of talking into her sleep.

Oftentimes, she would cry for someone to come hold her; even in the dead of night.

“I'm sore from that fight earlier today. And it's taking longer to get used to the concrete than I thought it would.”

“Liar. You just need to make sure for yourself that we'll all be okay.”

You waved off the messages appearing beside you at his reply. Notifications came so often that you had learned to tune them out.

“I'll take over from here. You should get some rest yourself.”

It was surprising he didn't punctuate the sentence with your sponsor's title, or worse, your name. He had a habit of doing that at the worst of times, making himself all cozy by disregarding your last name entirely and simply calling you by ... .Well, by the word that makes you turn your head on instinct the second it's called out.

By now, it was far too fuzzy in your brain to remember that first time you truly met him to recall if you gave it to him or he simply knew it.

Were you, too, a character in his eyes?

The thought had struck you many times, what Dokja saw when he looked at you. Especially now as he turned over in his spot, head propped up on his hand to look at you. Scrutinizing. Like he was reading a blue box perched right under your profile that read out:

Your name.

Your age.

Supporting constellation: Arrow-shooting cherub.

And all that other drabble that came with it.

Or were you a selfish person that he chooses to see as an ally despite having no place in his heart before the world fell?

Honestly, you had no clue which was better. At least with the latter he wouldn't know the times you cried late at night in your room, of the times you blearily made it through the day only to let the worlds between pages be your comfort as soon as the front door locked behind you, of how you would see a character so broken, so damaged and-

“No.” You huffed.

Both to his words and your own mind's ramblings. If you could bury that away the same way the Ugly King was atop that hill as wails filled your ears, you would.

“You're human like the rest of us, whether you like it or not. Got that, bubba?”

Such a different way of calling him ahjussi. Definitely a lot less respectful, but something tells you he doesn't mind as much as some other stubborn men in this world would.

“Here I thought I was a Supernatural character. That's what you like to call me with the others, right?”

At least not enough to roll his eyes at, anyway.

“I think the name suits you well. You're just missing some plaid. We can get you a shirt…or a kilt?”

“Not happening.”

A huff of a laugh escaped him, somewhere between breath of air pushing out of his lungs and the chuckles you can get from him after telling a particularly bad pun.

You two stayed like that for a minute, Dokja laying down with his eyes on you. Somehow, even with the intrusive feeling of him staring through you rather than at you, it was comforting.

Dark eyes shone in the light of the fire keeping the four of you warm. Crackling firewood as it tumbled into a new shape, a new little tent of sticks a better background noise to listen to than the mutterings as they finally slowed down for the time being.

“They care about you.”

To the point Yoosung and Gilyoung were nearly attached to him at the hip. If someone had told you those two were stuck to him on those backpacks with leashes parents used before the fall, you wouldn't have even batted an eye. Maybe even believed it for a moment there.

“Which is why you need to get some rest. The first step in letting someone care about you is letting them force you to sleep, to eat, to sit back and let them…”

Hug you.

“Help you.”

‘Don't think about yourself here’ is a great reminder as to why you pressed your lips together in a thin, impossibly straight line. Refusing to say the words lurking in your mind.

“You mean to tell me I'm not supposed to do everything myself?”

The sarcasm in his voice made you want to snatch that makeshift pillow out from under him. So, of course, that's what you do. A call of your name filling the air as he tried to wrangle it back. Something about how it's too cool to end up ruined and how he went through a lot of effort to get that.

“Last I checked, you wanted it in black!”

He was still tugging it from your hands when you heard a murmured call of Dokja's name over the ruckus you were both causing when you froze. He did, too, looking back at the kids for a moment before sighing in relief.

Just Yoosung. As normal.

“I can't rest if I don't have something to sleep on,” he whispered to you. Tone harsh, but never filled with as much contempt as when speaking to a certain regressor. That, and every other emotion he held for the man.

“But I'm cold.” You dared to say, like it wasn't sweltering hot only hours before.

Well, some did say that the summer nights are the ones that make you truly feel like you're freezing.

“Are you?”

Before you could even nod he had pulled the jacket from your hands, with enough force you couldn't help but wonder if his petty ass stacked a few coins up and pushed them into the starstreams vaults, or however that worked, to up his strength stat. Not even your grippy little fingers helped at all. Your attempts to hold onto it a forgotten cause.

Or not.

Not as he wrapped it around your shoulders with a boyish grin. Something so nice to see, his ability to smile, even if it is only to comfort you.

It would be so easy to let your head fall to the clouds and pretend he's not forcing it. But after what happened recently, another scenario passed you by like a bullet train that whooshed up your scarf and had it flying up and away to follow it even as you desperately reached out to grasp onto it with all you had, you knew that simply wasn't the case.

“It smells like male B.O.”

“Well, I do happen to be a man.” Before you could even protest, Dokja said: “despite what you may say.”

“You got laundry soap in that fancy Dokkaebi Shop of yours?”

“Actually, I might.”

You could see his hand twitching to pull up the menu to check, something you're not even sure of if Dokja is allowed to do in front of you despite the many times he has. Little to no shame about it now that he had become a constellation.

“Later. Or I'll make fun of the fact that your eyebags are so big you can carry all my trauma in there.”

“You literally just did.”

Your hand was on his face before you could even think about it, thumb brushing along the bluish skin as it became more and more tinted the longer this world stayed like this. He would stay up most nights insisting to keep watch even if he was the one to suggest everyone stopped to rest, biting at his thumb as endless possibilities swirled in that stubborn mind of his.

Does he not know it's rude to make others see him wearing himself down like that every day?

“Don't know what you're talking about, bubba.”

And this position is extremely awkward now that you think about it. Hand snapping back to your side to grab at that stupid coat to pull it tighter around you despite not truly needing its warmth. However, it did smell nice. Like him. Despite, well, the gross layer to it.

“Right…”

“You could use some eye cream. Too bad your ugly self never heard of makeup before the dome came up. Otherwise, you might have actually had a social life.”

Beyond just pretending the one he admired with all his heart was real in those moments of weakness when the feeling of being alone truly etched itself into his heart. Was a solid human being who could pat him on the shoulder as they did that awkward man hug.

“Why are you like this?” Dokja asked in the flattest tone he could manage.

“You see, it all started when my parents had sex-”

Dokja shook his head at that. His stupid bowl cut waving back and forth in just the right way that had it slightly tousled up when he stopped.

And we all had problems in this world that made us what we are now.

That's what you didn't say.

“Rest. Please.” Not a request, not a demand, but a plea. One that had your voice cracking in protest at opening up that tiniest bit without the doors to your heart being pried open with a crowbar. Of course, they'd have to get through the chains and boards nailed to the frame first.

Selfishly, you wanted him to be the one to pull those nails from the rotting wood.

In a way, he already has. (The same you know he will never fully free you of them).

And you wanted to be the one to hold the lock over his own, to cradle it, and open it not with a pick or some other cheap tool meant to get to the treasure within so easily, but with a key he willingly gives you.

To know what it's like for him, for once, to be honest with you. Even if that means to stop lying to himself in the process.

“Or I'll get a marker and really draw attention to those bags of yours. Maybe I'll even start calling you an old man and insisting they're a sign of aging. Those stories catching up with you, oldy?

“I never thought I would have missed being called ‘Ugly King.’” He groaned.

But for now, all you can do is watch it dangle before you as it shines in the light of another's hands. Dangling from a black cord. Yoo Joonghyuk. How Dokja looks at the regressor the same way you did him.

“Then I'll be nice for once and keep that nickname to myself if you lay down, shut your eyes, and fall the fuck to sleep.” Before he could ask with what pillow, because, yes, you were already expecting that question, you pat your lap. Far too used to his sarcasm to not see it coming a mile away. “Sleep.”

There was no fight, no bite back as Dokja just sighed and let himself fall down even as he was clearly embarrassed over this. Refusing to look at you like that would do anything to stop the tiniest flush you could see in his skin if you simply stopped to look. Just like you always have. But still, no fight was a good thing. Hopefully, that meant he was too exhausted to even bother because then he would have no choice but to slip away into dream land as your fingers slid through his hair. Easing him into the wakeless world.

“I'll keep watch. I promise.”

You soaked in his time, in him, as you watched those eyes drift shut.

“Last time I heard you singing Gilyoung a song.” The words were particularly muffled by your thigh, the skin growing goosebumps as you felt his breath fanning over you. Somehow, you're too hot and too cold all at the same time as you replied back with a confirmation.

“Are you asking me to sing for you, too? Does little Dokja need a lullaby?”

“Nevermind.”

“Hey, hey, no.” Your hand stopped in his hair for a moment, the dirt under your nails from earlier today so easily spotted as your eyes flicked between him and the calloused hand that has dared to take lives, but still treat him so softly. “I just don't really remember all the words. I can't look them up without wifi and all that so…”

“What do you remember?” He dared to ask.

So, for him, you answered: “enough.”

Enough for you to hum to the parts you're missing and sing the rest as that moon that had risen up into the sky slowly started to drop again. It's much like a video game where you're messing with the time settings just to continue on your quest. Your next adventure. Your next task.

But selfishly, you wanted this moment to last forever as you sang about a little baby moon shining in the sky with his funny little toes in the air.

“And he's all alone in that big blue sky.”

The lyrics had you aching to stop and to bite at your lip as Dokja drifted off to sleep, but still you continued on, because for him, It didn't matter if your throat burned or you legs went numb. Not even when you'd surely have trouble walking the next day as they struggled to pump blood back through them properly, not if it meant he got a moment of reprieve from what you knew was going to happen next.

Is this what it felt like for him watching Yoo Joonghyuk during their encounters? Each passing day went by like a sweet song that you wished to play in your head again and again until you remembered every lyric, every pitch, every note, until the ability to play it through memory alone graced you.

The same way you did the pages of his book. Quote after quote of his assurances to others that he never dared give himself still so fresh even after reading through them for the nth time.

How you wanted to be the one to tell Dokja he'd be able to get through it all.

If he only allowed it.

Only allowed you in to give him more than a moment of reprieve to sleep. To hold him, to listen to him, to comfort him. To cradle Dokja the same way you did your phone after reading translations of the novel in the dead of the night.

It's complicated to hold someone this dear, to look at them and only wish for them to have the best yet know they have been robbed of that. Know they will be robbed of even more.

But this is the choice he wanted.

And who are you to disrespect that?

Even as it has tears falling from your cheeks as you sang that stupid song again, words coming out broken between sobs you hoped wouldn't wake the children and the man you loved in a way that went beyond mere friendship, beyond mere passion for another, beyond mere familial ties.

No, it went beyond that.

That's why you couldn't be selfish, not with him, not even after all those fix it fics you relished in because at least then you'd see him happy. See that boyish grin full of pure joy and nothing else.

So you would stand on the side lines, let him view you as another character to save if he must, and hold your sword tight as it's raised to protect him.

Because, and the words came out like a croak as you whispered them to yourself, a confession between only you and the constellations above. “I love you.”

‘In lieu of loving myself.’

The fate of a reader's reader. Your precious main character.

For your selfishness, for your own broken and guarded heart, for him, this can only be said knowing he can't hear your deepest secret. No, Dokja had other things he needed to do, better, more important things than to worry about you. So you would give it all to him, no matter if it meant shattering yourself too.

#kim dokja #dokja kim #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv #orv x reader #kim dokja x reader #kdj #orv kdj #kdj x reader #fanfiction event #fanfiction collab #banner by cafekitsune #gn reader

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possiblylando · 1 year

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An Analysis on the meaning of each Moonscorched Contestant in Termina.

It comes with the territory; Discussions of Sexual Content Additionally, Spoilers for Termina. CHAUGNAR; Abella

Chaugnar is one of the more unusual moonscorched forms as unlike other Moonscorched forms it doesn't seem to share much with Abella herself. Chaugnar takes the form of a Large Masculine humanoid with a Mutilated Earless Elephant head. It's skin seems almost scaley in portions, Like it's been callused. The lower half of Chaugnar is the most obvious parallel in the design. Abella lives a more masculine life for the 1940s. Due to be a mechanic she's in much better shape than many other contestants. Notably being the only Female Contestant able to use two handed weapons without issue. I've not encountered anything suggesting Abella to be insecure about her masculinity; which is a bit odd for a Moonscorched form as they tend to embody the traits the original contestant was most insecure about. Chaugnar as a name originates from H.P. Lovecraft Mythos, From a creature of the same name. However it's been confirmed the name Chaugnar is a reference in name alone due to having a similar appearance to Chaugnar from Lovecraft Mythos. So the question stands, Why does Chaugnar have an Elephant's head? Looking at Elephants from a spiritual sense they tend to represent Luck and Prosperity. Which would take on an inverted meaning as Abella is one of the first Contestants to become Moonscorched. Additionally I've seen the theory that Chaugnar's Elephant Head is due to Abella being fused with another version of the Woodsman's "Parasite" which jumps her in Tunnel 7. However Abella still becomes Chaugnar if she's in your party at the Tower or the player waits until Day 4. This could be so that she doesn't have two Moonscorched forms. Depending on how you look at it this could prove or disprove the theory.

Lore - It can't be the Parasite because Abella becomes Chaugnar when she isn't caught by one.

Development - It could be the Parasite because making an entirely new Moonscorched form just for the Tower would take a lot of extra time for an unnecessary feature.

THE GENTLEMAN (THE MAYOR); Henyrk

The Gentleman is one of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. But also one of the more interesting ones. The Gentleman takes the form of a Large Guard-Esq creature which an unusual head. It's face is twisted to the point you're unable to make out it's expression at any given moment. Additionally it's eyes are so warped it's not clear if they're eyes of secondary mouths replacing them. Put simply the Gentleman is an exaugurated version of Henyrk who's lost a majority of his inhibitions. Unlike Abella it's much more clear why Henyrk Moonscorches so early on in the competition. Henyrk is prone to Paranoia and Panic as seen in the mayor's mansion on Morning 1. The Gentleman retains most of Henyrk's sensibilities but seems unattached to Henyrk's memories. This is a twisted form of how Henyrk views himself. Notably I don't believe the Gentleman to be a bad person. Unlike many other Moonscorched forms he retains an ability to reason and control himself. He won't attack the player unless they directly insult his cooking, One of the only things Henyrk seemed to value himself on. Notably it seems the Gentleman went through several phases in development which are still leftover in the game. Under certain circumstances Marina can be found in the Mayor's mansion having been kidnapped by him. Given what I've previously said about the Gentleman I doubt he would've done anything Sexually Predatory to her as Henyrk doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do something like that. However the same can not be said for the Gentleman's original appearance.

This version of the Gentleman is much more defined demonic appearance, His face showing visible malice and anger. Additionally he can be seen with a Stinger, Similar to the guards in the first game. Clearly this initial design was meant to evoke the Guards. However unlike the Guards who are animalistic, The Gentleman is cruelly aware of his disgusting deeds. I have no doubt this version of the Gentleman would have been a Sexual Predator. Given his design was changed to remove the more crass "implications" (Less Implications more outright statements), Its logical to assume the final version of the Gentleman wouldn't be as disgusting as the original. DYSMORPHIA; Samarie

Dysmorphia takes the form of a tall black feminine creature. Her torso is notably rounded. The flesh around Her face is flayed and pulled back by a metal ring behind her head evoking the imagry of a Halo. Dysmorphia is one of the more interesting Moonscorched forms as she acts less like a monster and more like an awoken form of Samarie. She shares many of the same emotional issues and insecurities as Samarie. Dysmorphia as a name is incredibly straight forward as it refers directly to Samarie's feelings of hatred towards herself. As a recap, Samarie was apart of the Experiments in the 9th circle to contact the old gods. Her time there was torturous and awakened her ability to read minds. She feels ostracized from society and is always afraid of her imitate death due to what happened to her. Notably if she survives Termina she seems to be able to continue living just fine as she's seen to still be stalking Marina. While not explicitly stated it's possible Samarie as a form of Body Dysmorphia. Dysmorphia has a rounder stomach and torso in comparison to Samarie's stick thin body. It's hard to say if this is intentional or not due to Samarie's lack of- really anything in the game. Samarie and Dysmorphia by extension are torn between their self hatred and their need to be able to live as their true selves. As seen in their battle dialog. Player: “You were just a regular person a moment ago...” Dysmorphia: “What is that supposed to mean!? Why must everyone be regular!? Regular this! Regular that! Be normal! YOU CALL ME REGULAR!?” You managed to infuriate Dysmorphia with your persuasion efforts. (+Furious)

She's so blindsided by anyone showing any sort of kindness to her that it's enough to make her question everything she's been doing and planning for, For assumably years. Dysmorphia: “I did all this for her... I had it all ready... But then you come along...AND RUINED IT ALL!” Player: [PERSUADE] “Let's just talk this through. No harm done yet...” Dysmorphia: “Talk!? TALK!? Why would you want to talk to me!? Just look at me!” Player: “What's so weird about wanting to talk?” Dysmorphia: “...” Dysmorphia is clearly hesitating... “This is just a trick, isn't it...? You don't care about me...” (+Hesitation) I'll talk about it more in detail when I get to the Mastermind but it's also seen with Dysmorphia. Moonscorching seems less like complete monsterfication and more like an Evolution/Awakening. It's quite literally stated by Dysmorphia. Player: “What do you mean 'radiating'?”

Dysmorphia: “Like a moth! I'm finally close to bloom! A hairy moth in the night!” MONSTER; Caligura

The Monster is the most straight forward Moonscorched form. It takes the form of a giant bulbus and warty combination of a Vagina and a Ball sack. This is because Caligura is a bastard. He is a ball sack before he's moonscorched and he's a ball sack after he's moonscorched. Gaining a Vagina mouth represents his lust after women. There is not much depth present in Caligura's moonscorched form. It maintains a portion of Caligura's consciousness but not much. It's only real communication ability is insults and telling the player to choke on it's balls. Semi Unrelated to Monster; One theory I've heard is that Caligura is Samarie's Bio-Dad due to how similar they look. They look even more similar when you look at Beta Caligura in comparison to Samarie.

It's interesting enough to mention due to Monster's otherwise lack of subtly. WEEPING SCOPE; Levi

The Weeping Scope takes on a tall and semi-thin masculine form with an elongated torso. It's head has been replaced with the fleshy barrel of a tank cannon. The remains of Levi's clothes can be seen fused to it's upper torso with a notable lack of visible gentiles despite the lack of clothes. The Weeping Scope represents Levi's worst possible ending. Unlikely others like Dysmorphia and Gentleman who act as evolved forms of their contestants, Weeping Scope is Levi regressed back to his trauma and unable to escape from it. It seems to act entirely on instinct until it has a realization of what it's become. He's been turned into a weapon which can't do anything except kill. Once the player encounters the Scope for the first time it'll fire on them before fleeing. Once it flees it will hide in the Orphanage and become passive to the player unless they directly attack it. Levi is clearly still present within the Scope and still wants to be able to move on from his Trauma but is unable to escape it as he keeps getting dragged back into it. The Scope goes to the Orphanage as despite it being a location Levi was implied to have been abused in, It's the only familiar place he knows in Prehevil. Levi will never be able to fully escape the terrible circumstances of his upbringing as they'll always hang over him. -Second Reading- There's also another possible reading of the Weeping Scope which I'll mention. In this interpretation the Scope acts as an inverted version of the Cocoon. Both forms see the Contestants lose their heads in place of their most notable mutation and lose control over themselves to that mutation. The Cocoon is controlled by the Cocoon, And the Scope is controlled by it's gun. Additionally the reason no gentiles are visible on the Scope is because it doesn't have a dick, It has a Vagina which is hidden by it's pubic hair. Both the Scope and the Cocoon reveal the biggest insecurities of their contestants, Being their birth gender. This reading would make Levi trans. I think it's a valid reading even though it isn't the one I personally ascribe to. The main points against it can be handwaved. That main problem being, Levi was a Child Soldier long before women were allowed to fight in a war. Transphobia exists in the Fear and Hunger universe so it's unlikely they would let it slide. However it's also possible that they didn't care about gender in the slightest so long as they could use a gun and kill the enemy. POCKET CAT; Daan

We all know and [HAVE EMOTIONS PERTAINING TO] Pocket Cat. He's unusual because not only is he special he probably isn't a moonscorched form. He possesses Daan no matter what, The moon's radiation just speeds up the processes. Daan has without question the most cruel backstory in the series. It's almost a guarantee that his life was tampered with by outside forces. To put it simply, Daan was groomed into becoming Pocket Cat. Daan's blank soul definitely makes it easier (A blank soul may even be a requirement for possession) for him to become possessed by Pocket Cat. It's hard to say for certain how Possession works in Funger given we only really see it happen once. In lue of any deeper analysis on the meaning of Daan becoming Pocket Cat, I'd like to bring up something you may not know about. The Pocket Cat Room. If you bring a Joy Mask to the Man under the lamp post you're able to gain access to the Pocket Cat Room. The Pocket Cat Room will change depending on if Daan has been possessed or not. Here are the rooms pre and post possession.

It requires contest of both to fully make sense. In the original room it's been filled up with toys and bags. These are obvious metaphors for Pocket Cat's crimes. Every time we see him with a bag there's a child inside. Each of these bags likely hides a body inside. The way this is presented, Each time a new Pocket Cat is created the slate is wiped clean as they've yet to commit any atrocities. Meaning Pocket Cat as an entity is able to escape any sort of "Karmic Punishment" is the best term I can think to describe it. As seen in Daan's room the outlines of the Sun and Star and still present as he has yet to fully delve into Rher Worship. The body seen within Daan's room likely represent the Baron and Elise. The empty chalk outline could represent how the Baron was able to get up and become Needles. Or it could represent how Elise was daan's only concern in that moment as aside from the blood and police tape the room is blank. If we were encounter another Pocket Cat room in the future while Daan is still pocket cat (Probably won't happen), We'd likely see this room become morphed to fit the original being filled up with more sacks and toys and Pocket Cat's influence becomes deeper. THE MECHANICAL DANCE; Olivia

The Mechanical Dance is a weird one as it's both straight forward and mysterious at the same time. The Mechanical Dance takes the form of a Large metal pyramid with fan slots on it's sides. Attached at the top is a feminine torso in a suit with pauldrons of some sort and long stick arms. The face is completely blank aside from it's eyes. The entirety of the Dance seems to be made out of Metal. The most obvious part is that the Dance has lost it's legs entirely only being able to move via it's pyramid base. Representing Olivia being bound to a wheelchair due to her weak legs. That however is where the most obvious aspects end. Her being apart of the Dance makes some degree of sense as it could be reasons as Olivia wanting to be able to do something she can't usually do. It's hard (but not impossible) to Dance in a wheelchair. It seems the Dance's mannequin like appearance is there to draw attention away from the Humanoid aspects of it and draw attention to the Pyramid. This represents Olivia's fears/insecurities of being unable to escape the shadow of both Relia and her disability. So the Dance itself is secondary to it's mode of transport. Overall, One of the weirdest Moonscorched forms. GIANT; Marcoh

The Giant is another of the more straight forward Moonscorched forms. It takes the form of a large hulking creature with a strange warped black torso covered in eyes and teeth. It's head is comparable to that of a barnacle's tongue. Marcoh's personality is nearly completely absent from the Giant as it's only able to say "GUILTY!". It represents Marcoh's bad ending in which he becomes a brutish monster unable to think and which only acts in Violence. it's singular dialog line suggest the Giant believes everything it's doing is for the great good. However it's hard to say for sure. VALKYRIE; Karin

The Valkyrie is a peak moonscorch as it perfect encompasses Karin as a character and her flaws. The Valkyrie which opposite to it's name takes the form of a large Harpie with thick blonde hair. The bases of it's wings are protected by pauldrons and it's face is covered by a metal blindfold/helmet. It carries a group of Bellend on it's back. there has been a bit of debate as to what the creatures of her back are but they're clearly Bellend.

The Valkyrie's name represents Karin's own opinion of herself. In her mind she's a purveyor of truth and justice, Exposing the evils of the world and making sure those who suffer at it's hand never suffer in vein. Yet in reality her actions have acted to further ostracize the downtrodden by exposing the worst parts of their lives to the world. She's figuratively and literally blinded to the truth as she believes he's carrying lost warriors on her back to save them from death. In reality she's just bringing more Bellend to Prehevil so they can wreck havoc. From a Metaphor Standpoint, My favorite Moonscorched by far. Miro was cooking flames with Valkyrie. JUDGEMENT; Tanaka

Judgement is unusual as it just seems like Tanaka fell through a window. Judgement is another Moonscorched form which acts an awoken form of the initial contestant. Tanaka as much as he's meme'd as the guy who dies first, Is actually a very strong person. As seen in his growth throughout the festival.

If you fight needles after Tanaka is decapitated, Needles is notably damaged. He didn't go down without a fight even this early on. Judgement is Tanaka's logical end point should he never go through his growth. Judgement represents Tanaka breaking the metaphorical Glass ceiling as seen with all the glass in his attacks and the move called "Glass ceiling". It's rather blatant. Judgement still retains Tanaka's memories as seen when you present him with the Crossword puzzle. Player: (Player has Crosswords puzzle) “That sounds familiar. Did you fill this Crosswords puzzle?” Judgement: “What of it? Back when I first arrived here, I lacked the ambition and determination. I would waste my time on this planet on the most useless of things.” Judgement has become obsessed with the Grind. Money makes the world go round and Judgement wants the sun to rise each day so he can continue to grind. COCOON; Marina

The Cocoon is Marina's body which has been bent over backwards and forced to crab walk. It's grown a second pair of arms which it uses to aid in it's mobility. A second head has grown in place of her dick which is connected by a Leash to a large Cocoon made of twisted flesh that has replaced Marina's head. The Cocoon represents Marina's traumas and fears. The Cocoon exposes her biggest secret to the world and makes it one of the only things people are able to see about her. You're only really able to see the Head, The Limbs. And the Cocoon. It's hard to tell if the Cocoon controls the body now, Or if the new head control it. Either way it represents Marina being unable to escape being lead around by her birth gender and the baggage that comes with it. I've heard the theory that the Cocoon contains Domek's corpse due to Marina being found in the church on the final day after his death. Even in death he has an inescapable control over her. The Cocoon is up there with the Valkyrie when it comes to the insight and metaphor it can give us into their respective contestants. MASTERMIND; O'saa

I've saved the Mastermind for last for a reason. The Mastermind without doubt is the single most unusual Moonscorched form in the game. It takes the form of O'saa with a Fungal looking growth replacing his head. a disembodied eyeball floats above it's right hand. SO WHAT THE FUCK? The mastermind more than any other moonscorch proves that moonscorching itself acts as a form of evolution. O'saa has not changed outside his appearance and now inability to speak. The Mastermind will not hunt the player down, They have to engage in battle with it. O'saa does not topple over in pain when he becomes Moonscorched like the other contestants, He sits down and meditates. Alright are you ready for my crackpot theory? Moonscorching is a form of divine enlightenment akin to the throne of ascension in mah'abre. this might sound crazy as you're probably thinking they're nothing like the New Gods we see. However I assure you, They're quite similar. New Gods aren't actually Gods in the literal sense. They're humans who have gained incredible power through the throne. However we see through the new god forms of the first game's protagonist this doesn't automatically come with a new cool form. Take Ragnavldr for example, His New God form is horrific.

He's been hunched over and swallowed by his fur clothes which have begun to take over his entire body. It's much less gruesome than some of the Moonscorched form. But thats because everyone who can ascend in the Dungeon has gone there of their own volition. They're prepared to ascend. Aside from Samarie and O'saa, None of the contestants are at all prepared to enter a form of divine ascension. So their bodies are warped and twisted. They don't have what it takes to ascend to the next form of humanity like the New Gods. It's very possible that the Mastermind and Dysmorphia are incomplete forms of ascension which had yet to fully manifest their true selves. We fight them both soon after they moonscorch so they've had no time to grow accustomed to the green hue. Look at the normal Moonscorched people, None of them have the drive to become true Moonscorched beings like the contestants. While it's probably just for gameplay balance, Notice how we can only absorb souls from the Contestants? Their souls aren't strong enough to ascend via the green hue. Samarie and O'saa have the Radiant and Enlightened souls respectively. We know one's soul matters when it comes to moonscorching because Pocket Cat is able to possess Daan due to his Blank Soul. Rher is the trickster moon god, He doesn't want humans to ascend to godhood. However have you noticed how Rher's servants only try to stop the Girl from Ascending? True Humans can not ascend to godhood via the throne. Only Hybrid Humans can ascend to true godhood. The Girl is born of Le'Garde and Nilvan. A New god and a Human. Alll-Mer is the same. He was the son of a New god and a Human. So what if the Presence of an Old God is enough to impart a form of Divinity onto those receptive to it? The Old Gods we see in Funger 1 are only present for a single boss battle and are only traces. Yet Rher's traces are present for the entire game.

#fear and hunger #fear and hunger termina #termina #moonscorched #fear and hunger chaugnar #fear and hunger gentleman #fear and hunger dysmorphia #fear and hunger weeping scope #fear and hunger monster #fear and hunger mechanical dance #fear and hunger pocketcat #fear and hunger giant #fear and hunger valkyrie #fear and hunger cocoon #fear and hunger mastermind #fear and hunger judgement

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maximumqueer · 1 month

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Chapter 1123 Spoilers

I find it deeply telling of who Vegapunk is as a person, that despite him claiming that he was certain that it was the World Government who York gave the stolen piece of the mother flame to

he still refused to mention this in his speech he recorded for the world.

Part of it was because he technically didn't have any concrete proof, just a sequence of events - that when viewed together - point to the World Government owning the Ancient Weapon. And with the way he explained the Mother Flame being stolen, perhaps he was hoping that the people listening would come to the same conclusion that he did. But that didn't happen, or at least we didn't see it happen. None of the reaction shots we got of crowds or specific people not already aware of corrupt nature of the government, still by into the propaganda that the World Government is a overall good entity, with some even doubting that Vegapunk could have even been killed at the hands of the government.

And I think this speaks to how deep propaganda can go, and the extent to which it can effect the way a person behaves. Vegapunk, in private, was certain that the World Government has an Ancient Weapon, and used the stolen piece of the Mother Flame to power it. And yet when presented with a world stage, he can't make the same claim, not even with the caveat of it being his own opinion.

Vegapunk - despite coming to understand (to an extent) the corruption of the government - was still funded by them for over 20 years, and was still treated well by them for over 20 years. He was intrenched in their propaganda and manipulation for a good portion of his life, and - just like how it takes time to fully fall for propaganda - it takes time to fully detangle ones self from it. Time that Vegapunk didn't have. It also doesn't help that Vegapunk must have been experiencing a level of dissonance between the information he recently learned, and his own lived experience with the government - as he went a long time being uncritical of why they were funding him do to his greed being a "fatal flaw" of his.

Vegapunk is such an interesting character. He is a perfect example of what propaganda does to a person long term. If he had more time, he could have completely deprogramed, and have been more firmly against the World Government. But, he didn't. So, even though he intellectually knew that the government was responsible for Lulusia, he could not bring himself to express that - even as an opinion - in public.

#one piece #one piece spoilers #one piece meta #egghead arc #egghead spoilers #one piece 1123 #one piece 1123 spoilers #dr vegapunk #character analysis

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kiame-sama · 3 months

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The Hylian Zonai (Yandere!Ganondorf x Fem!Hybrid-Zonai!Reader) pt. 2

Warnings; Yandere, yandere relationship, yandere temper, platonic yandere vs romantic yandere, reader insert, fem pronouned reader, Zonai-Hylian half-breed reader, slight ToTK spoilers, the word 'king' in reference to ganondorf is not capitalized in Rauru's view because he doesn't respect Ganondorf as a king but it is capitalized in Reader's view because she does respect him as a king, neither king nor queen are capitalized in Ganondorf's view because he respects neither Sonia or Rauru as royals but he does respect reader,

"Hylian"

"Zonai"

"Gerudo"

~~~~~~~~

"King Rauru, please. I need a word with you and Queen Sonia. It's about Princess (Y/n)."

Rauru kept replaying those words over and over in his head as he waited for Zelda and Sonia to his study, the balcony giving a great vantage point to the gardens below where (Y/n) and that visiting king Ganondorf sat talking. His dearest daughter was keen to show the visiting king around her father's palace and kingdom, eager to spend time with the king despite having just returned home.

Though it burned him to admit it, it seemed his daughter was more than eager to be near the Gerudo king and focus her time on him instead of her parents. A dark part of his soul hated it with a deep and burning passion.

He wasted no time in approaching the two women as they arrived, guards outside of the room closing the door for privacy. Sonia looked worried and it set Rauru's heart fluttering with concern, never happy to see his beloved Queen upset. His family meant the world to him and likely held a place higher than his Kingdom in his heart despite how he cared for both.

"I'm sorry for calling you both away suddenly, but this cannot wait."

"Go ahead, Zelda. We are keen to hear what you need to tell us."

"Princess (Y/n)... She was there when Link and I went under the castle. She was wrapped in gloom and stuck in a kind of stasis entrapped in crystal. I know I have already told you both about the Demon King from my time, but her being there and arriving with the Gerudo king now can't be a coincidence. I believe she is in very real danger the more time she spends with him."

The revelation set pure and utter fear through the couple as they considered the possibility of their beloved daughter being pulled in by such a monstrous man. It was already obvious to both Rauru and Sonia that their beloved daughter was quite smitten with king Ganondorf. Zelda had not been false with them yet so they had reason to believe her recounting of their daughter's presence in the same chamber of the mummified demon king.

"And you are certain it was (Y/n)?"

"Yes. She looked as she does now. I don't know what sealed her in such a state, but I know it was her."

"This... Is most troubling. I will have to call upon Mineru to keep (Y/n) away from Ganondorf."

~~~~~~~~

You smiled happily at the Gerudo King as you taught him about the various Zonai devices around you. Though it took energy cells to properly run the devices, you were happy to teach the visiting King about them and their intended use. The various Zonai automatons were content to bring you what you asked of them and provide you with however many devices you wanted.

It was during this demonstration of these devices that Ganondorf posed a question to you.

"And how do you secure them to one another?"

"Oh, that's easy for me. I inherited several abilities from my father and from my Zonai ancestors. Father calls it Ultrahand, but it is more like a building tool. I can make them attach to one another or even non-device objects and they will stay secure. Not sure how others get by though."

Before the King could ask another question or expand upon what you told him, someone cleared their throat behind you. The large Zonai ears atop your head angled back towards the sound instinctually despite hearing it clearly. When you turned you felt excitement run through you as you saw your aunt Mineru standing behind you, flanked by two automatons.

You couldn't help the growing joy within you as you turned on one heel, rushing into the open arms of your beloved aunt. Her gentle smile was a great comfort to you and you always appreciated visits from your only other Zonai relative. Her smile was warm and affectionate as she reciprocated the hug in kind.

"Hello, little one."

"Hello aunt Mineru, how goes things in the underground?"

"They continue on as expected. I heard you were showing a visiting king around?"

"Yes," a soft and almost nervous laugh escaped you as you led your aunt back to the handsome man, "King Ganondorf is a visiting King from the deserts of the Gerudo. King Ganondorf, I would like to introduce you to my Aunt, Mineru of the Zonai."

The tall King grinned a rather charming smile as he took her hand respectfully in greeting. You took extra note of the fact that- unlike the way he greeted you- he was almost cold and did not kiss the back of her hand. That simple fact made a certain level of giddiness build up in you as you realized the King had certainly shown some interest in you. Something about his devilish smile and quick wit was thrilling, especially when those beautiful golden eyes were locked on you.

"A pleasure to meet you. It seems I've met all the remaining Zonai now. What a marvel it must have been when there were more of you around. From the few I've seen," his gaze flicked to you for just a moment, a coy grin toying at his lips, "you all are rather magnificent. Godlike."

Mineru hummed, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly at the charming King of the sands. You were too busy looking away with a shy smile on your lips to notice the clear distrust your aunt held for the Gerudo King. His grin ever so slightly turned to a taunting sneer when you looked away, but smoothed back into that charming smile as you glanced back.

"You're far too kind, King Ganondorf."

Mineru's voice was clipped and she seemed far less pleased with the visiting King than you were. She could see how much you had fallen for him in the way you smiled at him and seemed so blind to the danger he posed to you. It was as if you were clueless to the genuine threat that was Ganondorf and far too blinded by your own affection for him to realize that he sought the ruin of Hyrule.

Mineru would have to try very hard to keep you from the Gerudo King.

~~~~~~~~

"Your father does not seem overly pleased with my presence here."

Ganondorf stated with a casual tone, looking across the small garden table at the lovely Zonai-hybrid. Though his intent was originally to woo the trusting little Princess, he found himself more and more interested in keeping the sweet Hylian-Zonai by his side for his own comfort. His Gerudo warriors had also begun picking up on the language, seeming to become protective of the little Princess as well despite her being from another Kingdom.

"Well, Father can get over it. I certainly don't see why he is so unhappy with you, you've been cordial and polite with every interaction. I guess it could be because he's always been a bit protective of me. I understood why when I was younger, but he is still quite overprotective now."

Ganondorf hummed in response to your words, looking down at the small tea-cup that seemed even smaller in his large hands. He had half a mind just to take his little Princess prize and return to the Gerudo without the rest of the Kingdom under his control. However, he was reveling in taunting Rauru and still charming the sweet Princess at the same time. Mocking the king to his face and keeping the soft Princess on his arm all in one fell swoop was quite satisfying to the man's pride.

"Well, of course he is protecting you. I can only imagine the kind of people that follow your every step, hoping for a mere second of your attention. He needs to protect you because of how many others seek to claim you."

You seemed a little surprised by the visiting King's words, tilting your head slightly as your soft Zonai ears slightly angled back in embarrassment. His words made sense to you, but to some degree the idea of your father trying to keep the Gerudo King from you was a displeasing one. Your father wouldn't be able to keep you away from everything and you had a right to seek out companionship if you wanted it. Goodness, you were even expected to seek out someone to wed for the sake of Hyrule.

"But he is being too protective. It is my duty as the Princess of Hyrule to find a suitable spouse and lead Hyrule when my parents step-down. How am I expected to find someone to wed if I am never allowed to even look? It makes no sense that he would be so... So cruel."

"You think he is cruel?"

"In this case, yes. Is it not cruel to forbid a Rito from flying? Or a Zora from swimming?"

"... Do you think I am cruel?"

"No! Goodness, never! You have been kind to me since the moment we met in the sands. You have tolerated my endless questions and curiosity without a single complaint. You are not cruel. Not to me."

The slightest grin tugged at the corner of his lips as you spoke so highly of him, knowing he had quite easily won you over. To some degree he has fooled you as he was no kind and gentle ruler, instead he was considered to be brutal and cruel. Still, it was very sweet to hear how highly you viewed him despite his reputation and Rauru's clear dislike for him.

As you spoke, he reached up to catch one of your hands, bringing it to his lips once more. You fell silent as his large thumb stroked over the skin on your hand, his red beard feeling slightly rough against your fingers. Clearly the simple act was able to stop your racing thoughts as the King smiled warmly at you, those golden eyes burning with passion.

"And... Have you found anyone you consider a suitable spouse yet?"

"I..." You slowly intertwined your fingers with his seeing how large his hands were when compared to your own, "I think I have..."

~~~~~~~~

Rauru glared angrily down at the sheltered little garden table where you and the visiting king sat, his hands gripping tightly to the metal railing and slightly bending the metal when he saw your hands intertwined. Mineru told Rauru how interested you were in the Gerudo king, but he could see for himself that you were absolutely smitten with him. It was a terrible thing to Rauru to know how easily the man had won you over, not wanting to give you up by any means to the violent and cruel king.

Though Rauru knew it would be better for your heart to dismiss the visiting king, he also knew you wouldn't be keen to say goodbye just yet. If he could only make you see how awful the man was for all living things, maybe then you would be willing to keep your distance. The only way he could get you to see it without it seeming like he was trying to defame the man was to get Ganondorf to reveal his true nature himself.

How Rauru planned to get that to happen, he didn't know, but what kind of father would he be if he let his beloved daughter fall into the clutches of a monster like Ganondorf?

Rauru needed to out the man and his monstrous behavior, or it would be his Kingdom and his daughter who suffer most.

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere totk #totk yandere #yandere ganondorf #the hylian zonai #tw manipulation #x fem!reader #x female reader #female reader

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evvlevie · 10 months

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Yes, I promise you will shift and/or manifest that thing you want.

Hi besties, it's your girl Evie again, after what seems like ages of me being away for stuff like not failing my uni-exams (!!!)

For my first post after my big pause, I chose to share a little bit of knowledge with you guys, that helped me get through my manifestation-journey / shifting-journey

"If you really want something, it is guaranteed to be yours"

Really simple, but REALLY important.

this is valid for big stuff like SP-manifestations and shifting just like for small stuff e. g. manifesting good weather.

the universe loves you. It loves you so much, that as soon as it registered your desire, all efforts are being made in order to get it to you the fasted way possible.

Yes, that "fastest way possible" can mean time frames that go up to years sometimes.

I have read about success stories of people who "waited" (yes I know that waiting is the wrong terminology here, please don't come for me) for multiple years until the bridge of incidences has played out in the way that it had to, so that the desire could arrive in the way it needed to.

You need to stop treating manifestation as this quick fix for everything ever, because yes desires can manifest within minutes but sometimes they just simply don't.

You need to remember that you wanting something, just means future you has it, and is directing you towards the thing that is "your destiny" through your desires.

This also means one thing: The universe has shown you what shifting is. You desire to shift to a certain place. That means you have already shifted there and you are now experiencing the path that got you there. And when you look at that, wouldn't you agree that it isn't really important on how much pressure you put on it, because since you want it, you are PROMISED to get it anyway? And since you are reading this post, you were supposed to hear me say this, so maybe just believe me for a moment.

Seriously that's how I view my life at this point. Any of my desires are just indicators to me of what I have in the future.

And since I know that, it's way easier to not give power to unlikeable 3D-circumstances, because I already have the spoiler that I get the thing I desire. I wouldn't desire it, if I wasn't getting it anyway. Those unpleasant 3D-Situations are just means to an end, they are just the bridge of incidences that gets me from point desiring to point having it in the physical realm. (Very small reminder here: If an unpleasant situation arises you can react to it, and it won't meddle with your manifestations badly, because as I mentioned, they are promised to you. Many people think that ignoring the 3D means detaching from your very human emotions, which really isn't the point of experiencing the human experience. The point of the human experience are the many emotions attached to it. Ignoring the 3D means, at least to me, that even if it seems very unlikely for the desires to harden into fact and that even it the utter opposite of your desire has shown up, you need to remind yourself that your desire is still promised and guaranteed and that you are receiving it, although unpleasantries appear.)

What I am trying to say here:

If you haven't shifted, yet: don't pressure yourself, don't stress yourself and don't think you are doing something wrong just because you have been trying to shift for a certain amount of time, and still have not.

⇢ because since you want it, you have already done it. You just have to live through the experience of how you got there. And this experience has its length, whether you like it or not. This length is different for each and every person out there. There is no reason to get demotivated. Because why would you if it is already set in stone, that you will have shifted once you lived through the experience of finding out how to shift? You shouldn't go to bed thinking "I hope I shift tonight" and you shouldn't be waking up thinking "Damn it, I can't shift since I didn't last night".

I go to bed excited because I KNOW for certain that I will experience my shift and that every night could be the night and I wake up in my CR thinking "Oh well, looks like the time hasn't come yet, but I know it will."

If you want something, it is already on its fastest way possible to get to you. No "if" , "and" or "but".

Yours in every reality,

Evie <3

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kurishiri · 2 months

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early bird . . . “ about the unforgotten promise between the hunter and the mirror ”

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties for characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— so this is the early bird bonus story you get with the card featuring roger and alfons as children! 🪞🍻 it is told in alfons’ point of view, so it contains very minor spoilers about alfons’ past, but nothing too major.

— cw: consumption of alcohol.

Tonight as well, people who wished for a dream reached their hands toward me, though insincere I may be.

Lady in a night dress: Jeez, Al, how many times do I have to tell you to contact me ahead if you’re gonna come?

Drunken man: Al, Al! Hey, you should do that thing again today.

Alfons: Oh, dear, I see you ladies and gentlemen are a hasty bunch, no? At the very least let me have one drink first.

(...If showing people a temporary dream were a business, it would, once again, be a booming success today.)

It was in our nature as humans to love that which is convenient, from the bottom of our hearts.

Man smoking a cigarette: Ah, that’s right, Al, who was that handsome guy who was drinking with you the other day?

Alfons: Oh? I can’t seem to recall drinking with such a person.

Man smoking a cigarette: You know, the one with glasses. And he was packing some good muscle too.

At that moment, the image of that man formed in my mind.

Alfons: Ahh... I assure you what he did could hardly count as ‘drinking’ with me, when all he did was take a seat next to me.

Man smoking a cigarette: Haha, it’s pretty rare to hear you speak so coldly about someone like that.

Man smoking a cigarette: I’m pretty sure I asked who that man was, not what he was doing?

Alfons: Then, that person is...

—— Flashback ——

Roger: I knew it, you really are Cursed!

Alfons: Cursed?

A: What in the world are you saying, mister [1]?

Roger: You have the ability to distort the minds of other people. You saw it yourself before, didn’t you?

R: And those who are Cursed will have to face a tragic fate as a price for their abilities.

Alfons: Wh... what’re you getting all excited for?

Roger: I mean the Cursed ones are born “to commit sins and meet a tragic fate.”

Alfons: ...Are you sure you shouldn’t go to a hospital, mister? There can’t be such a thing as a tragic fate and all.

Roger: I know it sounds like a lie, but it really is true! And I think in your case, it would probably be——“to die without leaving your mark on anyone’s memories.”

R: That’s the fate you bear.

Alfons: ——!

—— End flashback ——

Alfons: ...he is someone who pushed a certain something [2] onto me when I didn’t want it.

A: Well, that story is better left untold lest I bore you to tears, so let us move on from that...

I slipped off my gloves, and my fingertips approached the man’s nape.

Alfons: ...and fall into a dream we want to see.

When I showed them an illusion as I always did, I rode a carriage back, taking the scent of liquor and tobacco with.

(...Showing others a convenient dream they want to see is such a simple feat for me, and yet to think I myself cannot seem to forget that which I want to forget, it’s quite comical.)

Roger had pushed the fact that I was Cursed onto me right around the time I was abruptly kicked out from the orphanage.

I was seven, and I reckon Roger was around nine at the time.

He suddenly appeared before me, donning clothes that conveyed his well-to-do status, in order to do his “experiments,”

and when he offered monetary compensation, I agreed to participate. Luck must have really not been on my side.

It was then he pushed both the fact that I was Cursed, and that I would very tragically kick the bucket sometime in the future.

(After that, I was so riddled with grief, and I feel it best to refrain from going into detail about how I lived thereafter as it was quite miserable, even for someone like myself.)

At that time, even if Roger hadn’t pushed the truth onto me,

it was fully possible I might have found out on my own, someday and somewhere.

(But, I, too, was a child then.)

Once I ended up knowing, there was no way I could go back to the time I didn’t know.

I felt such strong repulsion toward myself then, even as a child.

And the one who brought that out of me was Roger. That was why I disliked him, hated him, even. To an almost amusing extent, at that.

(I don’t want to see his face again.)

(——was what I thought, when that man had once again shown himself before me.)

—— Flashback ——

Roger: I heard a rumor around that “there was a kid who could show weird illusions over at the slums.”

R: That was you, wasn’t it?

Alfons: And what if it was me? You’re gonna scold me?

A: Or what, are you gonna give me money after pushing a tragic fate onto me?

Roger: Nope, not at all.

R: I’m here to be your friend.

Alfons: .........What?

—— End flashback ——

Humans who acquire drugs through illegal means, and those who drown themselves in alcohol,

and people who were crazy because of their well-to-do upbringing... I’ve seen enough of those types of people to feel depressed about it, but I thought that boy who laughed before my eyes was the most crazy of them all.

After that encounter, Roger would come to the impoverished part of town almost every day.

When I hid, he would find me, and when I ran, he would chase me...

It was a constant battle between me and Roger, who wasn’t worth a single pence.

(And our final battle occurred on a certain night, I believe.)

—— Flashback ——

Roger: Ah, Al!

Night in the slums was a den for evil.

So it came as no surprise when Roger got caught up in a scuffle with some troublemakers who wanted to steal his money.

I could have easily pretended I didn’t see anything.

But, the one thing I wanted to avoid was dealing with any troublesome aftermath should Roger end up dying here.

Alfons: “This kid is just a dog.”

I gave an illusion to each of the troublemakers, one after the other, before grabbing Roger’s hand.

Alfons: Now’s not the time to get distracted! My illusions probably come with a time limit.

A: We gotta run before it wears off...

We ran and ran, and when we were both out of breath, the two of us collapsed on the spot, sitting against the wall.

Alfons: Haa... haa... now look here, mister—

Roger: Al! I knew it, your ability really is incredible!

R: And also, my name’s not ‘mister.’ It’s Roger Barel.

Alfons: ...Okay, but like, why do you wanna become my friend?

Roger: ‘Cause I’m Cursed, just like you, so I’ve been searching around for other friends like me!

—— End flashback ——

After listening to what he had to say, allegedly he was doing research on the Cursed ones,

and he was looking for subjects. That was why he reached out to me.

Needless to say, I remembered feeling angry at how selfish his reason was, even as a child.

(That’s why I put down a condition he couldn’t clear so easily.)

—— Flashback ——

Alfons: If you can make me laugh, I’ll be your friend.

Roger: Really? Then I’ve got this one in the bag, easy. Making others laugh is my strong suit!

He seemed very proud of himself when he accepted the challenge, but no matter how much time had passed, Roger could never make me laugh.

Part of it was that the stories he told bored me to tears.

But more than that, I felt like my heart was so deep in the wasteland, I could no longer remember when the last time I had laughed was.

Roger: Hey, aren’t you too good at this? You sure you don’t have a facial muscular disease [3] or something?

It was then I suddenly felt an urge to ask something, perhaps because I was possessed by a spirit or something similar.

Alfons: You’re Cursed, too, aren’t you, mister? Then what’s your fate?

Roger: Actually, I just found that out recently!

R: For me, I’ll “die without being trusted by anybody,” apparently!

R: Haha, what do you think, pretty tragic, isn’t it?

Amid the completely dark night, his laughing face seemed so unconcerned, as if it was no big deal,

and I was so dumbfounded that, without thinking, I—

Alfons: Pfft...

A: Hehe...

A: Ahha! That’s some fate you got there!

Roger: ...ghed...

R: You laughed!

Even I didn’t know why I had laughed at that time.

Perhaps it was because Roger... no, the two of us were so pitiable, so helpless and powerless,

that, in the depths of despair, the only thing I could do at that point was laugh.

We were cold, and miserable to boot, but even so, I couldn’t stop my laughter.

How could I, when the man in front of me looked so happy laughing?

Roger: Haha, yes... I did it!

R: Al! From now on, you and I’ll be friends, just as promised!

Alfons: That’s just you saying it. I will never see you as a friend, for my whole life.

All of a sudden, I realized the arms wrapped around my shoulders were so, very warm.

Ever since I lost the cat, I had never known such warmth.

It had been so long since I was not alone.

Or rather within the depths of this Hell known as despair, it was the first time ever... that someone was by my side.

And, surely, such was the case for this man as well.

The eyes of the one before me reflected the moon, and it seemed to glimmer in the depths of Hell.

Roger: Al, I’m gonna make a promise to you.

R: Someday, I’ll——

—— End flashback ——

Alfons: .........

A: I must be slightly weary now, am I.

I got off the carriage, and hoping to dive into my bed, I walked down the hallway.

Roger: Hey there, Al.

When I turned around, I saw Roger there, now grown up and his body unbearably large.

Roger: You’re back now? You should live a bit of a more healthy lifestyle, you know, you’re gonna destroy your body.

Alfons: I’m sorely sorry to say that I have gotten used to this unhealthy lifestyle. You see, that which is ‘incorrect’ becomes ‘correct’ to me.

Roger: You really haven’t changed at all since the old times.

He was the complete opposite of me, the one who showed illusions, as he was the man who only saw reality.

The one who pushed despair onto me.

Someone I couldn’t care less about in my life.

And yet.

—— Flashback ——

Roger: Al, I’m gonna make a promise to you.

R: Someday, I’ll——rid the world of the Curses!

Alfons: Is... is that even possible?

Roger: Yep, and I’ll do just that!

R: If I do, you won’t be lonely anymore, right?

—— End flashback ——

I wonder, why is it I could never seem to forget those words from that day, and those words alone?

Fin.

← main story 👑 epilogue 🍻

full masterlist 🪞

NOTES:

[1] here, Alfons refers to Roger as [お兄さん] (onī-san), which literally means “big brother,” and it could be used to refer to someone else’s older brother, but here it’s used more in the context that Roger is a guy a little older than Alfons, so it’s just like a casual way to call someone you’re not super close with or don’t know the name of, not because they are blood-related in any way. Think of it kinda like “bro” in modern terms maybe?

[2] said “something” is “a tragic fate I cannot escape from.”

[3] I think Roger is referring to something like Moebius syndrome, although if we’re thinking on the timeline, it wouldn’t have been called that at the time; if we assume this takes place in the 1890s, then this story would have taken place around 20 years prior in the 1870s (if we assume they are nearly or already in their 30s)... which was before the time ‘Moebius syndrome’ was coined in the 1880s.

END NOTES: what did you guys think of the story? personally, I really enjoyed it, and I hope you guys do too 🙏

their relationship is really interesting, because I don’t think it’s a lie, per se, to say that Al doesn’t like Roger, but Roger wants to get along with Al. but on the other hand, the last line of the story seems to imply that he does hold some hope that Roger can indeed, get rid of Curses.

and, regardless whether Al likes it or not, Roger inevitably has a notable influence in his life. Roger was the one who made Al fall into despair. but, on the other hand, as children, when Al was at his lowest point, Roger was the one who gave him warmth.

if I had to summarize, cue many complicated feelings 👍 but they are also like brothers.. whether they like it or not, haha.

#ikemen villains #ikevil #イケメンヴィラン #ikevil roger #ikevil roger barel #roger barel #ikemen villains roger #ikevil alfons #ikevil alfons sylvatica #alfons sylvatica #ikemen villains alfons #cybird ikemen #cybird ikemen series #cybird otome #ikemen series #otome game #otome #ikevil translation #ikevil translations

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absolutely-esme · 9 months

Text

Monster!Tim Coraline au part 3

I had more thoughts on the au from here and here.

First off, It's called Hungry Monster Tim au unless and until I come up with a better name.

That's the tag that will help you find related content. I titled the post the way I did so that people who found the au before it had a name could recognize it. I'm hoping this will minimize confusion.

...

Now, I figure I'll talk a bit about how others view Tim.

The most of the earlier additions to the Batfam have mostly interacted with Tim in Emotional Support Tim mode.

Emotional Support Tim is pleasant and comforting. He is not overly exuberant and joyful in a way that would grate on fresh grief. He is also not joyless in a way that might make a hero feel obligated to worry about him. He is gentle and competent. His patience seems nearly endless. He can tolerate both being coddled and being leaned on. He can tolerate both being clung to and pushed away. He can tolerate switching back and forth at unpredictable intervals.

Tim approached Nightwing in his standard state of "tired, low on patience, and possibly about to do something stupid," once before Tim realized he was also grief-stricken and in no fit state to get Batman under control. He might have an inkling that Emotional Support Tim is an act, or he might just think Tim was having a bad day.

Bruce thinks Emotional Support Tim is what Tim is actually like. By the time Bruce was functional enough to not need so much managing, he'd gotten attached enough to the facade for Tim to have concerns about dropping it.

Alfred can tell that Tim is putting on a facade. He can tell that the role Tim has taken on is wearing on him. He doesn't like it. He feels guilty for allowing it to continue. He can't bring himself to put a stop to it when it's keeping his adoptive son alive.

Barbara initially meets Emotional Support Tim, immediately clocks the act, and pulls him aside to make sure there isn't something sinister afoot. Babs has reservations about every aspect of Tim's involvement, but agrees that something had to be done about Bruce. She lets him carry on for now, but she's ready to pull the plug if it seems like it's getting too much for him. She insists that Tim drop the act when it's just the two of them.

Babs doesn't know about the supernatural stuff specifically, but she knows there's more going on with Tim than what she knows about. She may learn that he has some hereditary health stuff that requires him to be extra careful about his food intake. She makes a point to not be weird about it because people being weird about her wheelchair annoys the crap out of her.

I like to imagine that Babs and Tim have a certain amount of solidarity over being the sensible ones who keep all these unhinged, dramatic bitches in line. They also have solidarity over ignoring the fact that they are just as dramatic and unhinged as the rest of the Bats.

Steph meets Tim in Regular Tim mode because Bruce isn't with him. Instead of trying to discourage Spoiler, he introduces her to Babs. Steph knows Tim as a tired smartass who kind of always seems like he's a bit hangry and trying not to take it out on anyone, but apparently he's just like that.

They don't date, but do become friends. Part of this is because grouchy, eternally hungry, constantly done-with-this-shit Tim isn't attractive to Steph but is kind of hilarious. Part of it is because Babs points out that there is no possible timeline where the kind of power imbalance from only one member of a couple knowing the other's secret identity doesn't turn toxic.

When Steph eventually encounters Emotional Support Tim, it creeps her out. She uses the term "pod person" when asking what the heck that was.

Steph's disastrous stint as Robin doesn't happen because she's already got her own thing going. She already has a mentor and appropriate protective gear. Babs and Steph actually get along better because they start their mentorship as Oracle and Spoiler without any of the complicated emotions of taking up a mantle.

I like Steph as Spoiler the best because it always seemed a little messed up to shove someone who already had their own original Identity into two legacy mantles. Let her do her own thing. She doesn't need to be a successor to Babs or Dick when she's already the OG Steph. Instead of giving her the Robin gear or the Batgirl gear, get her some upgraded, Bat-quality Spoiler gear.

Steph doesn't start a gang war or fake her death in this timeline, because the circumstances that caused it do not exist here.

Jason initially encounters Tim in Feral Cryptid mode, then writes that off as a fever dream after waking up to Emotional Support Tim. Once free of the Lazarus parasite, Jason makes it his mission to be a good big brother to Tim. Tim seemed a little stand-offish at first, but warmed up to him. (As soon as Tim realized that food was part of Jason's love language, he rearranged his meal plan to let Jason feed him without triggering supernatural problems with his metabolism.)

Jason eventually manages to earn Tim's trust enough to meet and get to know Regular Tim. Jason is both honored and concerned. Putting on such an extensive facade for the comfort of others has got to be exhausting, and Tim seems so worn down underneath it. Well, he doesn't have to do it for Jason anymore. Jason will happily hang out with and support any version of Tim.

When Damian shows up, he mostly sees Emotional Support Tim. Then he starts trying to kill him. Eventually, Tim's patience with the pint-sized murderer wears thin (possibly due to Damian hitting a PTSD trigger), and Tim goes Feral Cryptid mode. This freaks Damian out. There is no video evidence (which the rest of the Bats assume to be because Damian tampered with the security system in an attempt to get away with murder).

It doesn't happen again.

Tim doesn't bust out his powers or cryptid form against Damian again, but now that he's seen it, Damian sometimes sees traces of Feral Cryptid Tim lurking below the surface. Various little things he'd ignored that hadn't seemed significant on their own now seem to stem from the nature of what lurks inside the human skin.

Damian stops the murder attempts early. It's not because of ethics (which will take time to learn). It’s because he has no idea how to kill whatever sort of unearthly thing Tim is, and he recognizes how unwise it would be to continue attacking something he cannot kill. For now, Tim seems content to leave him be whenever he's not directly under assault. Damian doesn't want to risk becoming enough of a pest to be worth the effort of swatting.

...

I also had thoughts about Tim's post-Robin period.

When Tim goes on his quest to retrieve Bruce from the time stream, he doesn't take the Red Robin suit. He's going to be outside of the Bats' scrutiny, so he gears up with a suit and equipment he'd secretly made with his supernatural nature in mind. It's got Bat-standard armor and padding, but modified to accommodate a bit of form shifting without compromising protection. It's got a patchwork thing going on.

Tim sewed it himself, which allows him to manipulate it. It's also got buttons sewn in strategic locations to eliminate blindspots. (Taking down the beldam gave him the ability to control things he made and see through buttons he sewed).

His utility pouches are full of both Bat-standard equipment and things relevant to Tim's abilities. Also, he makes his pockets bigger on the inside, so he can carry a lot.

Tim isn't around the other Bats, so he's not being Emotional Support Tim. He's not using the minor illusion powers he got from the beldam to make himself look pleasant. He only makes the effort to be comforting when dealing with victims. He's just being the semi-feral scrungly dude he is.

...

Tim keeps in touch with Jason, Babs, and Steph while he's off on his quest to find Bruce. He occasionally pitches in with stuff that can be done from a distance.

Tim didn't say that Bruce was still alive before he had evidence. It's not because this version managed to predict that they wouldn't believe him, but rather because he thought he might have to do some supernatural stuff to get him back and didn't want witnesses. He just told the other Bats he needed to investigate something and would tell them more once he had figured out enough to know what to tell them.

This means that the other heroes don't think he's crazy, and Tim can use hero resources for his investigation.

I haven't decided yet if Tim will interact with the League of Assassins at all. On the one hand, I think this Tim might not need to work with them. On the other hand, Hungry Monster Tim terrorizing the League of Assassins and fighting the Lazarus Pit would be funny. Maybe Ras doesn't try to recruit him. Maybe Tim just shows up, fights the Lazarus Pit, and leaves without explaining anything to anyone.

Either way, I think that Tim is pretty much done with keeping up the Emotional Support Tim facade by the time he comes home after saving Bruce. It's been long enough to justify the change.

Babs, Jason, and Steph are happy for Tim because they can see how much better he's doing without the added strain of keeping up the act. They are also glad that he feels comfortable enough to just be himself.

Bruce and Dick are more in the horrified/concerned neighborhood because, from their perspective, Tim started off gentle-natured and glowing with health, got fired from Robin, disappeared for a while, and came back gaunt and world-weary.

...

I'm thinking about whether or not Tim should tell Babs, Jason, and Steph about the supernatural stuff he's got going on.

It would have come out at some point. If he tries to keep it secret forever, you can bet some kind of dramatic, high-stakes threat would force the reveal. That's just how the Bats' lives are.

What I am debating with myself is whether or not to have Tim choose to share a secret he's been keeping for as long as he can remember for fear of the danger discovery might bring with the people he trusts most without something forcing his hand.

If he does, I think he would tell Jason first. Jason has seen that side of him, and Tim allowed him to think it was a nightmare. Tim wouldn't want to risk Jason hearing about it from someone else. Tim would probably be scared. He doesn't know if Jason will still like him once he knows that Tim really is the Monster from his nightmare. He doesn't know if Jason will forgive him for lying about it.

I think this would happen after Tim comes back to Gotham after saving Bruce.

#Hungry Monster Tim au #dc #batman #batfamily #cryptid tim drake #feral tim drake #Eldritch au

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fleetingvow · 2 years

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‘ BITTER SOLITUDE .

Wednesday Addams x Female Reader.

SYNOPSIS. wednesday has always loved being alone. she enjoyed the company of solitude and the opportunity for something haunted in the eerie silence, but somehow your presence was missing. did she do something wrong? ( 4.33k words )

WARNINGS. angst, usage of profanities, this is unproofread. spoiler to those who haven’t watched it yet. english is not the author’s first language. the timeline is a bit off. confession under the rain.

NOTE. written in third person’s omniscient point of view.

TABLE OF CONTENTS. you can find my masterlist by clicking this link. my requests are open, so feel free to send in anything you want me to write.

𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗖𝗟𝗜𝗖𝗞𝗦 𝗢𝗙 the typewriter halted. Enid had gone somewhere Wednesday didn’t care enough to acknowledge, resulting in the silence of the room that only whispered words of insanity inside her head — silent insanity. She turned her head to spot Thing settled on her dark bed, reading a travelogue magazine he found from Enid’s drawer, turning its pages tediously.

“Are you sure you gave her the note?” Wednesday monotonously questioned as Thing only answered a ‘yes’ with a tap of his finger on the sheets. Her eyes darted on the typewriter again, contemplating whether to use it or leave it alone for a while in order to wait for y/n with full concentration.

But she knew y/n’s presence won’t grace the room no matter how much anyone — most especially, Thing, would pine for it. She narrowed her dark eyes and tightened her jaw as she settled in her train of thoughts.

She used to like this state of living. She was alone or with Thing, but there was silence. The only thing that would bounce back to her ears was the sound of the typewriter clicking and Thing’s magazine pages turning. She loved solitude — lived for it, or perhaps the young Addams would even die for it, because of how much it was a rare luxury for her in Nevermore, but ever since she laid her eyes on a specific girl and her foot set in the divided room, she had grown used to the constant whines of invites to go outside and do some extracurricular activities that Wednesday either found too easy, boring, or stupid.

Y/N often complained about the homeworks they would get stacked with. She would normally curse at the teacher who gave it without a care in the world whether Wednesday heard or not. She felt comfortable enough to express her unnecessary emotions, as Addams would describe it, in the room with the half colourful and half devoid of hues window. She would wreak havoc and play games with Thing, gossip with him, and have a therapy session with him.

Wednesday was used to it, but she never wanted to admit it. Of course she didn’t. Because somehow, y/n had become part of the solitude that Wednesday found convenient even though she wouldn’t admit it aloud or even at all.

She argued that her presence was unlike any other that she found aggravating. That Wednesday didn’t have to put any effort in order to satisfy y/n’s needs in the established — friendship? Were they friends?

“Thing, why isn’t she here?” She asked again through gritted teeth, only gaining an ‘I don’t know’ from her companion.

No, she wasn’t her friend.

But if she wasn’t, why did her absence affect her so? Wednesday found it unsettling, and so unlike her dark cold self. Her eyes peeking through her eyelashes only narrowed even more, and much to her disgust, she wanted to do something about it.

Thing interrupted and made a few gestures, tapping, swinging, and folding his fingers to the girl who got more and more upset as she followed through with what he said.

“I sometimes wish that I don’t understand what you’re telling me,” she replied. “And it’s impossible that she would get upset over my silence. I’m always cold and silent. She should know that she signed up for it before being my . . . acquaintance.” Even without a certain tone in her statement, Thing could sense the venom in her voice. Y/N’s absence did tick Wednesday off.

He gestured, but before he could finish, she spoke again, “Finish that sentence, and I will pull out your nails and skin your fingers alive one at a time.”

Thing knew he crossed a line there. Why else would she threaten his nails?

The wooden floor suddenly creaked as Wednesday stood up from her chair, the typewriter long-forgotten in her wake to venture outside the room with a plan to confront her missing acquaintance.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༉‧₊˚.

Wednesday knew where to usually find y/n, but much to her dismay, she wasn’t in Weathervane. Tyler hadn’t seen her either. The young Addams found him quite stubborn yet persuasive, but she had to decline his offer of coffee. She had pressing matters to tend to.

Y/N wasn’t with Enid. She wasn’t with Yoko and Divina either, nor Bianca. She wasn’t seen by Xavier the whole day, and her roommate mentioned her rush to go out of the room earlier in the fine Saturday morning.

This was suspicious to Wednesday. Y/N was always with either of them in Weathervane, the library, the field, or Xavier’s haven for his art. Where could she be? She shouldn’t be out and about when there’s a monster on the loose, ready to cut someone’s throat.

“You really don’t want her to see you?” Xavier questioned.

“No. I’m surprised she’s even out there looking for me,” Y/N replied, stroking the hued brush on the canvas. “But then again, it’s Wednesday. She’s probably only looking for me because she needs something.”

“She still thinks I’m the monster, honestly.”

“Well, you do have a lot of drawings of the monster for someone who isn’t it, but I guess I should trust you. Maybe more than I should trust Wednesday from now on.”

Xavier turned to her, eyebrows furrowing in bewilderment. He took the towel near his latest work and wiped his fingers, “I’m curious.”

“What?”

“What did Wednesday do to you? Why did you say all those things you said earlier?”

She shrugged and continued to smudge the blank paint on the canvas. She hated that the colour reminded her of the certain goth girl that made her feel things she shouldn’t be, but could she ever help it? Wednesday was a friend, but the circumstances now said otherwise.

“I won’t tell her.”

“Even if you did, would she care?” She asked bitterly without turning to Xavier, only paying attention to the work she was aimlessly doing.

“Y/N.”

“She didn’t do anything bad. It’s just — ”

“She didn’t do anything, did she?”

Y/N scoffed and stopped her work, looking up at the canvas with a sigh of defeat, “That’s exactly what she did.” She turned to him and set the brush aside, sardonically letting out a chuckle, “Ironic, yes?”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

Was she not that obvious enough? Y/N thought she’d done her best to make anyone notice her actions when she was around Wednesday. She wanted them to know so that they could help her with her because she knew she didn’t have the guts to ask them directly, ‘Hey, can you help me with Wednesday?’ Because she found it pathetic. Wednesday obviously wanted someone who could speak their mind and have similarities with her interests, and if she found y/n to be so pathetic enough to ask, what was the chance that the young Addams would even look at her in a different light?

“Y/N, I really can’t help you if I don’t understand what’s going on. Wednesday’s already a puzzle. I’m not sure if I can solve her and you at the same time. She’s not doing anything which is upsetting you because? Maybe my brain’s just a little rusty, but could you elabor — ”

Taking deep breaths in and out weren’t enough. She had to be straightforward with saying what she truly meant with her careful words, “God, Xavier! I want her to notice me!”

“But she does notice you, y/n.”

“You don’t get it.”

“I do. Trust me, I do.”

She shook her head, took the cobbler apron off and hung it on the frame of the canvas, not caring whether the paint had dried off or not. “Thank you for letting me in here and rant to you, Xavier.”

“What? Where are you going?”

“I think I just need a little moment to be alone now,” she mumbled and smiled. Xavier thought y/n had always been good at smiling at everything. If witchcraft was told to be her greatest gift, it was not. Smiling was.

But now he wasn’t sure.

Y/N thought her smiling at everything was a curse. It made her bottle what was truly in her chest.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༉‧₊˚.

It was as if the day wanted to make everything harder for her as she found herself on Enid’s bed, lying quietly on her stomach with Thing on her side, turning the pages of the lotion options on the brochure y/n gave and promised to buy for him if he ever chose one. It seemed hard to be away from Wednesday, but she was about to accomplish her task of ignoring her completely when Enid decided it was nice to invite her to her room only to ditch her as a part of an elaborate plan.

Jokes on her, y/n knew what she was doing. When she said she wanted help, she didn’t mean now. She was too clouded with anger and teenage angst that she wasn’t in the mood to confront the busy as ever Wednesday Addams.

“Where were you?” Wednesday suddenly asked, not stopping from typing words into the typewriter.

“Xavier’s.”

“He said he did not see you the whole day.”

“And what does that make him?” The girl next to Thing inquired, her voice ice and cold. If Wednesday’s cold shoulder existed, y/n’s was much colder than an atlantic iceberg: She tried to shake it off, but she knew her well. She knew something was wrong, and it had to do with her.

“A liar, no less.”

“A friend.”

Wednesday didn’t respond any longer. It was futile to try to ease the tension in the room, and she had to not care or she would let her get in the way of her clear thinking. She was nearing the edge of the monster mystery in the woods, and she was sure it was Xavier, but there was no specific evidence. Her fingers typed aggressively again on the metal contraption, thinking about what they must have been discussing in his shed, what image they painted on the canvas, what disgusting expression on their faces they used while being near each other.

“Something’s on your mind,” Y/N suddenly stated. “Thing, could you go and ask Enid to come here?” She whispered to the pale hand as it crawled outside the room, leaving her and Wednesday alone.

There was no answer from the raven-haired girl. Now she was giving her the cold shoulder. Y/N has had enough thinking it was her fault. She sighed and stood up from the colourful bed, putting on the pair of black loafers she owned for when she went to class. Turning to the door to leave, Wednesday suddenly spoke.

“Everyone was worried.”

Y/N turned her head to her direction. She was still writing. She didn’t know exactly how to feel after the sudden statement. Should she be happy? Why did she feel slightly relieved? Could it mean that Wednesday cared for her? Maybe Xavier was right. Maybe she did get noticed by the certain girl. She wanted to smile, she wanted to ask, she wanted to keep asking more and more. This was her now. Living off a three worded sentence that came out of the Addams’ black painted lips.

“Were you?” Y/N questioned.

She did not respond again. It became a habit of Wednesday, but this one took a little longer than usual. Y/N did not budge from the door, though. She wanted an answer from her. At this point, she was desperate for a sign of anything, giving meanings to simple things only to confuse herself again.

Could Wednesday be holding herself back from giving her a transparent response?

“No.”

Y/N’s hopeful thoughts suddenly shut down as a bad flip on her heart created a shattering pound, dropping the beating chamber on the knots of her tied stomach. Her eyes slightly blinked in disappointment, licking her dry lips to provide moisture as she defeatedly glanced at the girl who had her back facing her.

“Wednesday, did you ever see me as a friend or anything more than just someone you’d talk to on certain occasions just because you needed something at all?”

The clicks stopped just as the door slammed shut behind Y/N, leaving Wednesday to sit on a conundrum of what she’d done wrong and what mistakes she’s been making.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༉‧₊˚.

SUNDAY. Wednesday didn’t like the Sunday activities that Nevermore had planned for its students. She hated it more when she didn’t spot y/n amongst the crowd in the field. She wanted to say she didn’t notice her absence, but she deemed herself too busy to worry about the little things.

She did catch a glimpse of her on the clear afternoon in the path of Xavier’s shade. She wanted to gauge out her own eyes and vomit acid on them.

After her question the previous night, she hasn’t been able to get a clear grip of her mind to write her novel.

Y/N was an absolute distraction that she was glad to finally get rid of.

MONDAY. Wednesday thought she was over it, but the temporary absence of the girl in her mind was cut short when her sharp eyes spotted her in the corridor, her signature extras on her style standing out as she walked alongside her roommate who rambled things y/n found funny enough to laugh at.

Much to her dismay, her shoulder brushed past hers, causing both of them to stop and look back at each other.

The young Addams didn’t know which was the twist of a curved knife: Was it the fact that she was wearing pastel nail polish or her? Was it the fact that y/n looked at where she was going again and recovered too quickly? She didn’t know anymore whether the question referred to the encounter or some other things, but it was making her blood boil.

TUESDAY. That night, Wednesday enjoyed the midnight breeze and performed one of her cello solos in front of the silver moon and the mist in the sky accompanied by the over-observant stars. She wanted to scream, but she never screamed. She didn’t like shouting or being vocally loud. So, the only outlet? Music. She wanted it to be more grim, angrier, louder, and better. She didn’t care who or what heard. She was getting sick of the thoughts inside her head that she wanted to drown it all out by focusing on one thing.

However, no matter what she did, nothing seemed to cure it. Every twist of the tunes on the cello only reminded her of y/n's laughter from the distance, her eyes crinkling as she listened to the stories of someone else, meddling in their business. Y/N shouldn’t care about the peanut butter that her roommate got on her shirt — she shouldn’t even care about anyone at all. Why should she? How could she? The tune got more aggressive, making the hairs of her body stand, feeling the rhythm of her disdain.

Her face wouldn’t get out of her head. The more she wanted it out, the more it became vibrant and clearer, more stubborn to push away. Just like Y/N in the span of days and weeks that she knew her. She had always been there, not leaving her side. Wednesday never acknowledged her or anyone so much, and she knew it put people off, but not her. Not until —

Wednesday frowned.

Not until that day y/n asked — no, practically begged her to come to Weathervane because she said she had something important to say.

The music ended. Thing sat on the stand and made a gesture. The girl knew what he was asking about. Now it was clear for Wednesday. She had never been oblivious, but the fact that she never acknowledged anything that had to do with y/n when she was constantly pining for her already made her much of a fool than she thought. That’s why she asked her the question a few nights before.

Y/N was under the impression that Wednesday never cared, or that she failed to see her.

Which, if she was frankly speaking, she did fail yet foolishly at that. Wednesday wanted her own space, her own time, her own pace. Y/N wanted an action, and she knew she couldn’t give her that. Their differences were setting each of them aside, away from each other, but now that it was clear, Wednesday knew exactly what to do.

Even if she found it most humanly pathetic.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀༉‧₊˚.

WEDNESDAY. Surely the afternoon rain was not the right weather for archery, but y/n needed the comfort of the serrated edges of the arrows whipping past the air. The rain was just a bonus. Her thumb brushed past her ear as she blinked, concentrating on the dead centre of the target. Before she let the nock go, she felt a presence almost as dead as her grandmother on her side.

“I didn’t know rain and violence enticed you.”

Startled, y/n turned her head to look at the origin of the voice, letting go of her shot as it hit the centre with a sound. She sighed and gave her a warning look before she spoke, “It’s about to get more violent if you don’t step aside, Wednesday.”

“You’re getting better at your threats.” Wednesday plainly stated, earning a scoff from the girl who held the arrow on her side. “Hello, Y/N. Your archery is impressive.”

Did she do it right? Did she give a nice compliment? Will she take it well? Wednesday would owe Thing if it worked, but she’ll decapitate a piece of his finger if it didn’t. She didn’t know if she was in the right mind or was y/n looking more goddess-like under the stormy clouds.

Her hair was wet with rain falling down on her face. Still, her eyes sparked a feeling in Wednesday’s chest, something that got right up her throat that she swallowed immediately to refrain. She looked at her up and down, noticing how the lustrous shine of the weather made her seem like she was the weather.

“Get to the point, Addams. If you’re kissing my ass for a favour, it’s not going to work.”

Y/N wasn’t making it easy for her. She was going off what Thing told her she would say, and it was making the whole situation difficult to surpass. What should she say now? If she went out with the truth, how pathetic would she look?

Wednesday defied feelings.

But could she now? Especially when it was the truth, and Y/N was staring right at her face, flushing a certain disgusting colour on her cheeks that she hated and swore never to let on her skin. The deathly cold temperature of her body was running hot from the look she was giving her. Her Uncle Fester was surely away, but she felt electric sensations stabbing her insides. As much as she loved stabbing, she would like it better if she was the one holding the knife.

“You’re wasting my time — ”

“I did notice you, even from the very beginning that the page of my life in Nevermore turned. That was until I got preoccupied by what was hiding in the forest, seeking its next victim. I feared that I will destroy this school to ruins, hurt the people I do not care about, and the people I tolerate.” Wednesday suddenly started. She walked closer to the girl who ruled the archery grounds and continued, “I admit I lost sight of you since then. Hence why I’m here. To apologise to you for my irresponsibility.”

The lack of emotion in her voice would have ruined the whole speech, but for y/n, it was the lack of something else. She was expecting her to tell her more, rather than just a simple sentiment that left her hanging whether Wednesday reciprocated her feelings or not. However, she understood completely that no matter how many days, weeks, months, and years that she planned to ignore the certain Addams, she would never manage to have her see her in the way she wanted. A ‘no’ is a ‘no’ after all, even if it was delivered indirectly and unpolished.

Y/N nodded and turned to the target halfway when Wednesday spoke again, noticing the deprivation of enlightenment in the speech she gave. The girl in the darker uniform sighed and looked down, unable to meet the eyes of the girl before her as she questioned, “The day you told me you had something important to say, what was it?”

“Does it matter? You didn’t care enough to show up and know.”

That caused a slight intoxicating heartache that made her come to her senses and feel the searing gaze of the girl. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to join you, but now that I realise the gravity of the matter, I wish to know what you wanted to say.”

“You have an idea as to what it was.” Y/N was tougher to crack this time around.

“But I want your enlightenment, y/n.” But Wednesday was more stubborn than she ought to be.

“You really won’t leave me alone for shit, won’t you?”

“Not unless you tell me.”

Y/N’s furrowed eyebrows only met again closely. She threw the bow down to the ground and marched past Wednesday, not wanting to tell her what it was or it will make her look pathetic again. If she told her, she wouldn’t be able to help herself. How would it look when a deep-feeling person cried in front of someone who didn’t give a fuck about anything?

“Y/N.”

“Wednesday, you’ve done enough damage and I’m trying to stay the fuck away from you and steer clear out of your way but you keep appearing with your stupid braids!” She exclaimed exasperatedly. “You just see me when you need me for something. You don’t notice me like you said you have. You never looked at me in the perspective that could show more of what I could be! You never see more than someone to satisfy your convenience, and if I’m just that, just a speck of dust on your shoe, just leave me be, okay?”

That was it. Wednesday never saw her this angry before, but the displeasure of emotion it brought felt well-deserved to herself. After all, she was the reason for it.

“Because I’m tired of throwing myself to someone— you, and not see it being given an answer to. If you wanted me to stop, you could have said so, but no. You never truly noticed, did you?” Y/N’s voice cracked, and there she knew, she had to keep it brief before she started embarrassing herself before Wednesday. The girl who never cried ever since she reaised it never did anything. “That day I invited you to Weathervane, I intended it to be something more than friends would do. I wanted to tell you how I felt around you, because you were a part of everything I did ever since I started showing up in your dorm every single day and saw so much of you from afar. The mood I get from you affects the whole day ahead. I was fascinated about how you knew so much yet also knew so little. You never truly realised how perfect you are in every single aspect, and even the tainted side, I embraced it all, because that was how willing I was to devote myself to you. I knew I wouldn’t have a shot because even if I knew how you’d take a three-minute break from writing or which type of drink you’d usually order, I don’t know anything about you. I don’t even know if you liked people like me. Fuck, do you even like girls at all? I don’t know, because do you even want me to know y—”

Wednesday has had enough of her angry outburst slash teenage angst confession under the rain slash rant, because now that the letters of each words have reached her ears and processed in her head, and her heart pounded in sync with the cello solo constantly playing in the back of her mind, she felt impatient with waiting for the end of Y/N’s dramatic confession.

Impatient that she couldn’t wait another second to march forward, aggressively pull her by the collar and crash her lips against hers, taking the girl by surprise as Wednesday pulled away shortly after before mumbling, “You always talked too much.”

“Wait, does that mean—?”

Wednesday wanted to roll her eyes, but her emotionless stare at Y/N’s face already gave the answer the girl was looking for, as well as another surprising kiss that warmed their bodies in the cold misty weather, hearing one another’s hearts go wild inside their chests like birds begging to be freed into the wild.

Wednesday hated teenage angst, but now maybe there was a part of it she tolerated.

Suddenly, a squawk from the distance was heard, followed by a crow falling right next to them, causing the two to pull away and look.

Y/N could have sworn Wednesday smiled, but she was quick to recover from the plague of crescent lips.

“In case you were wondering, that was a sign of approval from my dead ancestors.” The young Addams informed.

She wasn’t sure why y/n didn’t scream or take what she said before back and say she regretted it all, but Wednesday liked the circumstance as it was.

It was just her and y/n, the dead crow on the archery field, and the peculiar teenage outcast angst under the cliché rain.

“If you tell the others any vivid details about this, I will kill you, calcify your heart and keep it in my drawer.”

“I’d like to see you try, Mary Shelley.”

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday adams x reader #wednesday addams angst #wednesday netflix #wednesday addams x y/n #wednesday addams x you #jenna ortega #wednesday imagines #wednesday imagine #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday addams fluff #fleetingvow

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hallowpen · 2 months

Text

There was a lot of destructive criticism surrounding My Marvellous Dream is You, but I actually thought the series was quite good despite its shortcomings. I'm a lot more forgiving than most when it comes to Thai GL series, and that will have absolutely affected my viewing experience. But... every time I would see a comment that just read "This is boring/terrible/stupid" without ever elaborating, I felt very much like Khun Pu's character from Be My Favorite hehe

*WARNING*: There will be minor spoilers for the final episode of My Marvellous Dream is You, should that be something you wish to avoid.

I will be the first to admit, that I was very skeptical about this series in the first handful of episodes. So let's just get my personal negatives out of the way first... I think, by now, it's no secret that I do not support where a lot of Thai GL adaptations source from. So, this series already had an admittedly disadvantaged subjective expectation from the get go. It wasn't really surprising to see pacing issues within the first 5ish episodes, that seems to be a common occurrence in Thai GLs produced by IDOLfactory. Whether that is a result of the novels the series have thus far been adapted from OR from a choice in direction is up to you. I, personally, think it's a bit of both. Where I believe certain productions struggle in letting their narratives breathe, I find the complete opposite problem to be true with IDOLfactory. There were a lot of plot points that needed restructuring or to be removed entirely in order to have a stronger cohesive story that focused on the main characters' relationship more so than it did.

Now, while I stand behind my opinion that the series could have benefited from tighter and better organized storytelling, a lot of the groundwork was there to make a decent character driven narrative. And that's what I've chosen to focus on. Wan and Kim are both deeply flawed characters. There were so many inferences to be drawn from character relevant visuals and their joint backstory that truly informed their current dynamic.

The👏🏾character👏🏾focused👏🏾visuals👏🏾in👏🏾this👏🏾show!!!

One of the most interesting parts of watching a series, for me, is having to pick up on certain character cues in order to understand and delve deeper into the core of their behaviors.

Wan and Kim share a trauma, and it's easy to see how they both became so dependent on one another to fill the void their fathers left.

In flashbacks, Wan is presented as egoistic and headstrong since high school. She is also shown to be extremely protective of Kim before she even realizes her feelings. Kim, on the other hand, is a bit more sensitive. She cherishes Wan's attention and affection to a point where she would be willing to play a little dirty in order to keep it for herself.

All of these emotions become heightened once they are forced into adult life with adult problems. Wan is struggling with her mental health. While trying to balance fame and the repercussions her actions might have on her career, Wan must also deal with her mother's alcoholism... which has essentially caused her to check out from Wan's life. Her need to have Kim by her side, and never leave her, has become less protective and more possessive. Kim's desire for approval and affection has led to an over devotion of herself to Wan and constant worrying about disappointing her mother. She's neglected her own wants and needs for so long, that she's afraid putting herself first would be considered too selfish...too much like her dad. Her mother's cancer diagnosis further pushes Kim to continue to place her mother's wishes over her own desires. Even though comments about Wan and Kim being 'annoying' or 'frustrating' were aiming to be negative... they weren't exactly wrong. The audience was supposed to feel that way. Heck, even the surrounding characters called out their behavior on more than one occasion. Because in an effort to not lose one another, Kim and Wan fell into a cyclically unhealthy dynamic where their actions and reactions were actually pushing each other away. Their inability to communicate their true feelings to each other beyond their (unbeknownst) shared dreams prevented them from making any true progress toward a romantic relationship that they both so desperately wanted, but were each terribly afraid to pursue. Their feelings for each other were put up against the reality that their love being unreciprocated could spell the end of their relationship altogether. There was an added pressure of being unfairly compared to their fathers, where any romance between them might be found 'unacceptable'. Couple that with societal views of same-sex relationships, and you can understand why these two were so hesitant to reveal their truths.

(Quick sidenote: I did not agree with the idea that what Kim and Wan did was exactly the same to what their fathers did. They did not leave and abandon their families. Marwin didn't make it easy for them, and given the glimpse we saw into his family's cruelty, it made all the sense in the world to have him react in the way he did. Kim and Wan were at least willing to stay and face the hard consequences of their choice, no matter the outcome.)

I think them having to work through all of their issues made the moment of Kim and Wan finally deciding to be together that much more satisfying... And that was the point Kru A was trying to make when he explained his direction for their relationship on social media after hearing viewer feedback (He was subsequently rudely criticized by interfans for that decision, to the point where he alluded to the fact that he might take a break from directing... but that's a whole other discussion).

That final scene of them being married purposely not clarifying whether it was in a dream or in reality alluded to the fact that their shared dream world and their real life were no longer at odds, finally. I thought it was very fitting.

The frustration caused by KimWan's lack of communication reminded me of a similar dynamic between Team and Win in Between Us, a series that suffered from a lot of the same problems (not enough focus on the two leads and irrelevant plot points). However, those characters and the actors that portrayed them didn't receive even half the amount of negative reactions. They existed, trust me, but there were a lot of positive reviews to balance it out. I'm not going to get into what that means, because I think you can make the inference for yourself.

All in all, I don't think this series deserves to be completely written off. Is it perfect? No... but an effort was made, and it wouldn't hurt to make the effort in return to understand the vision. Fay and May did an incredible job for their first go around as main leads. And I hope they get the chance to develop their craft further.

#kimwan #wankim #my marvellous dream is you #dream the series #i urge anyone to give this series a fair shot before making any final judgements #koda watches gl

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waiting-for-motivation · 6 months

Text

bittersweet

summary: After being separated for a very long time, two lovers reunite under challenging circumstances on Teth.

pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

warnings: !SPOILERS!, fluff, angst, no happy ending

words: 1075

a/n: the return of the king (and my writing :)

!!!SPOILERS EPISODE 6 AND 7!!!

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

One second the laughter of Echo and Gregor fills the ship, then there is a desperate call for help coming through the comm. It‘s Rex, surrounded by imperial forces. He is with clone force 99 as well as other surviving clones. Right away, Echo turns the ship around and heads back to Teth as quickly as possible. Neither Gregor nor (Y/n) need a direct order to reach for their weapons and prepare for a risky exfiltration.

For a few seconds, (Y/n)s fingers linger on her vibro knife with a significant wolf engraved into it‘s hilt. Her heart burns at bittersweet memories of a certain Commander. Closing her eyes, she can still see him smiling after he gave her the knife. Other people, maybe even some of his brothers, considered him strict and bitter, but (Y/N) could always look behind his cold behaviour. But now, he is out of her reach, and she can‘t admire the glint in his eyes anymore.

“Are you alright?“, Gregor places a hand on (Y/n)s shoulder, tearing her out of her daydreams. There is a single tear running over her cheek and she quickly wipes it away, but the clone saw it. He tries to smile at her reassuringly. The smile on her lips doesn‘t reach her eyes, though.

“Yeah, thanks, Gregor“, (Y/n) tells him with a shaky voice and turns back towards her numerous weapons. The knife slides into the holster on her thigh, and it feels heavier than ever.

As she places her rifle over her shoulder, Echo announces that they are almost at the extraction point. Gregor and (Y/n) walk towards the ramp and get into position. Standing behind Gregor, (Y/n) aims her rifle towards the opening ramp. At first, she can‘t see much because Echo is still landing the ship, but then she catches a glimpse of Rex and other clones surrounded by imperial forces.

Her crosshair moves from the regular troops to a commando and finally to the Commander of this squad. The grey paint on his armor seems familiar and takes away (Y/n)s breath. It looks too familiar, she must be hallucinating. It can‘t be him. But the moment the Commander takes off his helmet, (Y/n) recognises him. It‘s Wolffe.

The rifle falls to the ground with a loud thump, attracting everyone’s attention. (Y/n) has to take a few steps forward to stand next to Gregor and be in view to everyone. To her in this very moment only one person matters. It‘s like everyone else disappears and leaves her reunited with her lost lover.

Wolffe is as baffled as never before. His cybernetic eye must be malfunctioning because how could his cyar‘ika be right here on Teth? She might look a bit different, but so does he. War changes people. In the past year, whenever her imagined her in his mind, he would always remember her carefree in the summer sun of Coruscant. Now she is wearing a heavy protective vest and many weapons, looking almost drained. But it‘s (Y/n), for sure.

“Wolffe“, she whispers his name before approaching him with fleet steps. Running past Rex, who understands the situation unlike the clones around him, (Y/n) reaches Wolffe quickly. Without a second thought, she wraps her arms around his neck and crashes against him, making him stumble a few steps backwards. His helmet falls to the ground, and he engulfs her in a tight hug.

There are smiles and tears as they part a few inches to take a better look at each other. (Y/n) places her hands just under Wolffes scrubby jaw, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs. “You‘re home“, she whispers and leans forward to connect their foreheads in a sweet keldabe kiss without helmets.

“Yes, I‘m home, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe returns and closes his eyes for some time. Then he remembers the situation they are in as his second in command shifts. Softly, he moves (Y/n) to his side but never actually parts from him. He still has to follow orders, right? But with his beloved girl and multiple of his brothers right here, he gets some doubts.

Most of the clones are already inside of the ship, only Rex and Gregor are still outside, waiting for (Y/n). The soldiers under Wolffe’s command are getting unsettled, not knowing what to do and what their orders are.

“Let them go“, their Commander orders and the troopers lower their blasters. A nod from Wolffe tells them to return to their ship. Turning his attention back on (Y/n), Wolffe can feel his heart ache. He pulls her into a tight hug once again, feeling one of her hands buried in his hair. Only when they part does (Y/n) realise this was a way of saying goodbye.

“No, I only just got you back, you can‘t leave me again. Please“, she whines and starts crying at the realisation. Wolffe takes her face in his rough hands and stops her from hiding her face in her own.

“Shh, don‘t cry. This is not a goodbye, we will see each other again. I promise. But I have to take care of a few things before we can see each other again. I have to take care of my squad. I‘m so sorry, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe tries to reassure his girl. He leans his forehead against hers, not caring what the remaining clones around them think. “We found each other once, we can do that a second time, I‘m sure of that.“

The moment Wolffe tries to take a step backwards and part from (Y/n), she presses herself as close to him as possible. Their lips meet in a teary and passionate kiss, showing their raw emotions. “I love you so much, please come back to me“, (Y/n) breathes against her lover’s lips and finally parts from him. He places one last kiss between her brows, strokes a hair strand behind her ear and whispers a declaration of love in Mando’a : Ni kar‘tayli gar darasuum.

Wiping away the tears from her face, (Y/n) approaches Rex and Gregor who look as downcast as her. They enter the ship after her, but only (Y/n) takes a look back and watches Wolffe enter the imperial ship. They get separated by the closing ramp.

But just like Wolffe said: They found each other once, they can do that a second time.

taglist: @gwenebear @skippyhopperwisdom @littlemisscare-all

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #tbb spoilers #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you

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