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thewisecheerio · 1 year ago

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Messmer's actually terrible at his job. (affectionate)

Messmer is a fascinating villain, because he is strangely compassionate. I would go so far as to argue that this same compassion that is so at odds with his villainy is the very thing that drove him to become that villain in the first place. Hang with me; this is a long post.

Spoilers for Elden Ring DLC. Obviously.

Messmer tells us himself that his purpose is to purge all those stripped of the grace of gold. "Yet...my purpose standeth unchanged. Those stripped of grace of gold shall all meet death...in the embrace of Messmer's flame." We can piece together who gave him this genocidal purpose from his armor set's description, which tells us directly that he's working on his mother's behalf *and also* taking all the blame for it.

So he's playing war criminal on Marika's behalf. And I do mean playing. I'm not downplaying the fact that he is a war criminal; he has murdered on entire people. But here's the thing: he's *terrible* at playing the sole part of the spiteful, hateful overlord. He's *awful* at reveling in war and its victories.

Why? Empathy.

Messmer is strangely empathic for what could have otherwise been a cut-and-dry villain:

1. His relationship with Gaius, an Albinauric: We learn from Gaius's Remembrance that he was Messmer's bestie. We also know that Gaius was an Albinauric both from his armor as well as the location "Albinauric's Hut" in the direction he comes from at the beginning of his fight. Albinaurics are despised by the Golden Order, but Messmer didn't seem to care. In fact, he cared so little that he gave Gaius command of either a huge chunk or perhaps his entire army, second only to him. And what is given as the basis of this friendship? The fact that they were "both cursed from birth", i.e. a mutual understanding of what it is to be despised. They're trauma bonded because they have empathy for each other's predicament.

2. His relationship with the Jar people: Even though the Jar people were used as weapons of war against his own people, he doesn't seem to resent them. How do we know? There is a hospital where the Jars and their innards are being cared for in the Storehouse, a stone's throw away from where Messmer spends all his time. There are even a few baby Jars running around in it. Strange thing to do to what is essentially an enemy of your people, unless you consider them to also be victims of the same conflict.

3. His relationship with his soldiers: Messmer shares his own flame with his army. Yeah, that absolutely could be interpreted as a utilitarian move for the sake of war. Power up the troops, boost your chance at victory. But it's a strange choice when he could have just armed them in the traditional way of handing them sharp, pointy objects and pointing in the desired direction of stabbing. Instead, arming your soldiers with your own power could also be interpreted as something you do when you care about their survival and are potentially working directly with them to ensure it.

4. The mourning of people who betray him: Speaking of his soldiers, Messmer gets betrayed by at least a few of them. We learn this from the ashes of Andreas and Huw. Huw's ashes further tell us that Messmer *mourned their loss* as brothers-in-arms. Weird thing to do to someone who has betrayed you, unless you care very deeply about them to begin with.

5. The implications of the Storehouse: Even though he is actively genociding Hornsent on Marika's orders, he somehow has preserved an entire library of their history. At first, I thought this was maybe just British Museum vibes: steal all the artifacts and refuse to give them back. (And that could still be a correct interpretation.) But in context of the rest of these points, if you're truly hellbent on erasing a culture, why would you bother to preserve any of it? Would you not burn the libraries along with the people? It's a fairly common thing to do in our world's wars--destroy the art and history to ensure full erasure. And yet, it seems he can't even bring himself to avoid some small amount of sympathy for the people he was explicitly tasked with killing. If you really *think* about the basis for his sympathy for Marika, this does make a lot of sense. Messmer is following Marika's orders because he knows about what the Hornsent did to the Shaman. Wouldn't it then also be the case that once Marika's reign became nothing but genocide, i.e. an exact reversal of what was done to her people, he would have the same kind of sympathy for them? Perhaps this is a form of harm reduction in the only way he could square with what he thinks is his purpose.

6. His own self-hatred: Messmer despises his own flames, which we learn from the Messmer's Orb description. If you were happy to be Doing a Genocide, would you not celebrate your weapons of war? Wouldn't you take pride in them as tools of power? Unless, of course, you're not actually as happy as we think and maybe having regrets and come to be filled with severe self-hatred. Woops.

So then, if Messmer is this guy running around with a lot of Big Feelings (and probably a deep need for a Prozac prescription), why does he even agree to this genocide in the first place? Isn't that an *odd* choice for someone who seems to care pretty deeply about people, even people despised by his family's governing order? Why does he carry out these orders even to the point of developing a deep self-hatred?

This is where Messmer's sympathy, one of his best aspects, also becomes his fatal flaw.

I mentioned above in 5 that Messmer has access to information about both sides of this conflict. As much as he might have sympathy for everyone around him--including weapons used against the Shaman like the Jars--that means he *also* has sympathy for the Shaman. So if you have sympathy for the other side and sympathy for your side, and you are raised by your own side, then what is the natural outcome? Your side wins. If you must choose a side, then you fight on behalf of Child Soldier Fostering Mother Marika. She raised you, after all. It's inevitable.

In the end, that same sympathy he seems to extend to others also is what causes him to do war crimes. Out of an abundance of sympathy for what happened to the Shamans, he agrees to take up arms.

At the end of the day, he's still a villain that needs to be stopped so that he'll stop oppressing an entire people on behalf of his mother's misguided attempts at revenge. But making his reasoning to agree to become that villain in the first place *empathy* of all things? Fascinating.

#elden ring #elden ring dlc #elden ring sote #elden ring spoilers #elden ring sote spoilers #elden ring dlc spoilers #shadow of the erdtree #shadow of the erdtree spoilers #messmer #messmer the impaler

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mychapel-004 · 10 months ago

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watching people fight over how canon the book of bill is while completely mischaracterising bill is such a strange experience

yes he’s a liar. yes he’s a manipulator. yes he is so distant from any semblance of humanity that he is literally incapable of regret, empathy or remorse, or at least admitting to himself that he feels it.

but he’s also TERRIBLE at it. he’s a total loser. he’s objectively bad at the one task he’s spent lifetimes on. throughout history he attempts to sweet talk many, many different figures into building his portal and it rarely goes down well. multiple civilisations are aware of his existence and the sole reason we know this is because they hated him and invented their own ways of keeping him out. he has been consistently rejected by humanity at every turn, only coming close to completing his goal when he literally possessed a dead man and formed a cult.

ford is the only person who really, truly fell for the act. not just that, but bill didn’t even have to pretend to physically be someone else to get him hooked. ford took him as he was.

all this to say, bill is absolutely a grifter who will say anything to get what he wants, which means a lot of BOB is just sweet talk, carrot and stick, he’s just saying what the reader wants to hear. but that’s not the important bit.

bill is a liar but he wraps the truth up in layers of misdirection, doublespeak and lies. a monster really did destroy his homeworld. him and ford really were going to change the world. he even addresses this in the book, he lies until it becomes the truth. a lot of bill’s characterisation is shown in the gaps between his lies, it’s all in the fault lines, in a similar way to stan. he’s a very meta character, but ultimately he’s still a character and he still behaves in ways that are designed to convey meanings to the audience.

of course he’s lying in the book of bill, but he’s also telling the truth, in addition to bits of info from other sources that he is unable to edit like the theraprism section. it’s fun to have a character who lies a lot, but it would be a pointless exercise to have an entire book be non-canon and false, especially when we get much more interesting character work from the parts where he runs out of lies and his only options are desperate truths.

anyway. people wanting to enjoy canon info in a canon book isn’t just them “being easily manipulated” or stupid, and you aren’t a better fan for not believing it

#eden rambles #gravity falls #thisisnotawebsitedotcom #bill cipher #book of bill #billford #gravity falls meta #can you tell i saw some very specific tweets abt this #no hate to anyone but. its just so boring to look at all the great character work in BOB and write it all off as a calculated lie

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cricket-reader · 2 months ago

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Lilacs On Her Lips

summary: You didn't mean to fall in love with her. Truly, you never meant for it to go this far. But as the lilacs begin to overtake your lungs, one thing is clear: Natasha Romanoff will be the death of you. Because you'd rather die suffocating on something as sweet as her love than ever forget what it meant to love her.

warnings: hanahaki disease, internalised homophobia, near-death, blood, infidelity, toxic boyfriend, female reader (she/her pronouns)

word count: 3,844

A/N: prompt fill for day 4 for @juneofdoom | "It's really not that big of a deal" | Denial

{Read on A03} | what i’m listening to

I love him.

At least, that’s what I tell myself.

It’s easy to pretend when I’m pressed against my boyfriend’s side, his arm heavy around my shoulders—too tight, too stifling. It’s easy when he’s kissing me—too forceful, too eager; I tell myself that I don’t hate it—I just need to get used to it, that’s all. It’s easy when he lets his gaze wander, and I have to pretend I don’t notice. It’s easy when I see Natasha across the room, laughing with someone else, with her lips on someone else—just a reminder that I will never be on the receiving end of such affection.

I am happy with my boyfriend. He’s the good choice—the expected choice. The kind of man I am supposed to want—all broad-shouldered, confident and charming.

So I can ignore the knots that grow in my stomach every time his eyes turn hungry and dark, I can ignore the prickling of my skin when his hands wander too far, I can ignore the dread that suffocates me every time that we’re alone.

I love him, and he loves me.

It doesn’t matter how heavy my lungs feel when I see Natasha slip into her room with someone else—choking on jealousy as I force myself to follow my boyfriend into bed. Everything is as it should be.

The first time I cough up a petal, I stare at it for what feels like hours. Breath hitching in my throat, I run my fingers over the silken purple petal. I don’t need to be told who it is for. Deep down in my heart, I know there’s only one person who could evoke this kind of suffering. It doesn’t stop me, however, from trying to deny it. I clench my hand around the delicate object, crumpling the petal beyond repair. As if destroying the evidence could destroy the feelings taking root inside of me.

I swallow down the rising panic and tell myself it’s just a mistake.

I have a boyfriend that I love. A boyfriend who loves me.

It should be enough—it has to be enough.

Stuffing the petal deep into my pocket, I tell myself that I will get over it. I don’t love Natasha. We’re friends, and that’s all we will ever be—all we ever should be.

It seems, however, that my body doesn’t get the memo.

Soon one petal becomes two, becomes three and so on and so forth. I stuff them in my pockets, in tissues I discreetly throw away, in cloths or towels that find their way into trash bins before anyone can notice. I excuse myself when Natasha brushes against me, when her touch lingers too long, when the warmth of her presence makes my chest tighten, vines wrapping around my lungs.

I hold it down, swallow it back. Until I can’t.

The petals come in fits now—sudden, ruthless attacks that wrack my body with horrifying coughing spells. Tears burn in my eyes as I hack up another mouthful of lilacs, my body trembling violently. It’s becoming harder and harder to keep it from the team—my boyfriend doesn’t notice. He never notices anything, too wrapped up in himself to bother.

I barely make it to the bathroom in time, collapsing against the porcelain bowl as my body expels the evidence of my own denial. I’d gotten too close to Natasha, letting the redhead lean her head on my shoulder during the team’s biweekly movie night (my boyfriend had come up with a lousy excuse to miss it once again). It was almost as if I was trying to prolong my own suffering (the team always did say I lacked self-preservation instincts).

I flush the petals away. Watching them spin in the water, delicate even as they violently swirl away. I swish tap water through my mouth in an attempt to expel the sickening taste of lilacs from my tongue.

But it lingers even still.

It’s always there nowadays. Nothing I do will get rid of that sickeningly sweet taste.

No matter how much I tell myself that I don’t love Natasha—

My body knows the truth.

I love Natasha, and Natasha doesn’t love me back.

Sometimes, when we’re alone—late night hot chocolate simmering over the stove, I can convince myself that maybe Natasha does feel something for me. Maybe it’s only friendship—perhaps it's merely lust or curiosity. Whatever it is, it isn’t love; it won’t save me.

I sip the burning liquid to combat the flowers crawling up my throat. Listen absently as Natasha’s gravelly, sleepy voice lulls in the quiet of the kitchen. Let myself fantasise that this is what it would be like if I were Natasha’s lover. No more cold nights alone, wondering where my partner is. No more stilted conversations, needing to fill the empty space with nothing but noise. No more pretending I don’t feel hollow when being kissed, kisses that are more out of obligation than desire.

I shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t want her, but really, when have I ever been normal? All my life, I’ve tried to fit into that cookie-cutter mould, tried to be the person that everyone wants to see—never offensive, never different, never difficult. I wonder if the plant growing inside me is the universe’s way of telling me that I had failed. Had I been doomed from the start? Destined to be a spectacle even with my last dying breath. Destined to be different—to have that imperfection rooted deep within me as proof of that.

For all that I would never fault another, I can’t help the self-hatred that clouds my mind like a grey overcast. Inexplicably, I am the only one on the receiving end of my prejudices. Shame curls around my heart in iron-hot tendrils. The thought of anyone knowing the truth sends spiders crawling up my body.

And so I hide.

I put on an artistically crafted mask, something to hide my greatest shame, and I hope that no one will see through it. I play the part of the loving girlfriend to a man I hold no feelings towards, but perhaps resentment. I hold steadfast to my facade, never wavering despite the fact that it’s killing me.

No one can know.

I wake to a cold, empty bed.

It’s no different than any other morning, yet the smell of his sweat, the burn of his lingering touches makes my stomach twist. I long for cinnamon and sandalwood, yearn for lithe fingers and red hair, wish for lazy mornings spent kissing and snuggling.

Jolting upright, I hack a mouthful of blood-stained lilacs onto my lap. I stare at the blood staining the gorgeous petals and white sheets, my heart sinking. My time is running out. Soon I’ll be nothing but a memory—the girl who died suffocating on her love. I wonder if Natasha will care.

Tears roll down my face as the loneliness sets in. For so long, I’ve been hiding. I wish someone was there to wrap me up in a hug, to tell me everything is going to be okay, even if the words are nothing but an empty platitude. Instead of cleaning up the petals, instead of soaking the sheets before the blood has time to set into the fibres, I curl up under the sheets. Tears stain the pillowcase as I wallow away in solitude. Why would anyone miss someone like me? Why would anyone care?

I awaken to a crash, my eyes sore and nose clogged. Someone says my name, but I just want to go back to sleep. I could sleep for a century, and it wouldn’t be enough. Pulling the sheets over my head, I pray that whoever it is will leave me to die in peace.

“Jesus Christ.” The voice is closer now. Groaning as the sheets are yanked down, I glare at the offender with red-rimmed eyes.

Clint stares back at me, eyebrows furrowed and mouth downturned. “Who is it?” He asks, raising a gentle hand to push away the hair sticking to my face.

“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “They obviously don’t feel the same.”

Clint makes a wounded sound in the back of his throat as I hack up full blooms, sticky blood matting them down. He runs to the en-suite bathroom and returns with a damp rag. He kneels at my side, taking my face into his hands. “Have you thought about the surgery?” Clint asks as he wipes the blood from my face.

“No surgery,” I say, heart constricting at the mere thought of losing my Natasha. Clint just sighs, resigned—as if he knew that would be my response.

“What is taking you so lo-” Natasha’s voice cuts through the silence.

Throat constricting, I cover my mouth in a last-ditch attempt to hide what can’t be hidden. Without a moment’s hesitation, the redhead is at my side, eyes alight with fury as she takes in the massacre of flowers before her.

“Who is it? Tell me who it is,” Natasha says, voice sharp. “Is it that piece of shit you call a boyfriend? I’ll kill him!”

“Stop, Nat,” I choke on my words. “I’m fine. It’s really not that big of a deal”

“Not that—Not that big of a deal?” Natasha splutters. “You’re dying! You’re dying and you didn’t say anything! You… were you ever going to tell me?”

My heart constricts in my chest as I take in the tears forming in Natasha’s eyes. The tears I put there. It’s not Natasha’s fault that she doesn’t love me, it’s not her fault that I had to grow feelings for someone so unattainable.

“I didn’t want to upset you,” I confess, tears forming in my eyes. “I didn’t want to upset anyone.”

“You idiot,” Natasha scolds, her hand brushing against my clammy forehead. “Я не могу жить без тебя.”

“You know… You still haven’t taught me Russian,” I say before coughing up another bout of lilac blooms. It was one of those things we talked about over hot chocolate late one night—one of those things we just never got around to.

Clint furrows his brows as I stifle another round of lilacs from erupting onto the sheets. His eyes dart between Natasha and me, calculating—as if he knows—no he can’t, no one can know. He raises a brow at me, a silent question hanging from his lips. I cut it off with a sharp glare.

“I think I’ll leave you two alone,” says Clint as he pushes himself up from the bed. A look passes between him and Natasha that I can’t even begin to comprehend—their bond so long-formed that their thoughts have practically become one.

Natasha’s face twists up as he leaves the room, eyes shut tight. When she opens them, Natasha fixes her eyes to the dying woman before her, two bright emeralds shining with grief. Warm hands wrap around cold hands, holding tight as if that alone would keep me weighted to this world.

“Я не могу жить без тебя.” Natasha says, voice wobbling through every syllable. It’s almost terrifying, seeing the world’s most composed, strong woman being brought to her knees. “It means: I can’t live without you.”

My heart stutters in my chest. I’m not foolish enough to believe those words hold any more weight than that of a dear friend, yet the way Natasha says it…

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, for lack of anything better to say. I’m sorry for falling in love with my best friend. Sorry for putting her through the pain of losing yet another person she cares for. Sorry for not getting over the juvenile feelings that plagued me from day one.

“Whoever it is… they are a fool,” Natasha declares, that sweet furrow settling in between her brows.

“I am the fool,” I mutter, eyes lowering to our entwined hands. “For falling for someone who deserves so much better.”

Natasha’s eyes light up with a familiar spark of fury. “Don’t say that.”

“Nat… I never deserved this person’s affection. I was fooling myself for ever believing that I had a chance. I’d only drag her down.”

Natasha freezes. “Her?”

My heart stops in my chest, cold dread seeping through my blood. The secret is out. Grimacing, I say, “Yes. Her.”

“You… you like girls?”

Mortification curls deep within my soul. “Don’t tell anyone,” I plead, eyes brimming with shameful tears.

“Why not?” Natasha questions.

“I’m not… I shouldn’t… I can’t…” I can’t even finish my sentence without a burst of lilacs erupting from my lungs. They expel onto the stained bedding, adding to the disarray of bloodied flowers scattered around me.

“Shhh, shh, it’s okay, just calm down,” Natasha coos, pushing back the hair in my face. More flowers follow, crawling up my trachea and tearing up my throat. Tears burn in my eyes with the force of the flowers. I gasp for breath as Natasha kisses my hand, tears streaming down her lovely face.

“Please,” Natasha sobs, cradling my hand as if it’s something precious—as if I were something precious.

“Hold me?” I choke out, as the lilacs fill my lungs to the brim. I could die happy in the arms of my love, surrounded by her warmth and comfort. If the request is nothing but a selfish wish, something that will only hasten the flowers growing inside me, I would never say.

Natasha complies, her entire body trembling with the force of her sobs. She places a kiss to my forehead, murmuring in unintelligible Russian, words broken up by the shock of emotion welling up inside her.

“I love you,” Natasha cries, holding on for dear life. “Don’t leave me, please.”

I splutter on a cough at the words, heart working overtime. “Don’t say that,” I croak, voice thoroughly destroyed by the blooms. “Don’t.”

“I know it’s not a good time,” Natasha says, her hand weaving through messy tresses. “But I love you.”

“No, you don’t,” I protest, heart ripping to shreds. Not in the way I need you to.

“Yes, I do,” Natasha insists. Mourning the heat as Natasha pulls away, I try to crawl back into those loving arms, only to be held off. I stare into those green eyes, burning with such passion. “I’ve loved you for so long, Милая—darling.”

I shake my head, thoughts spinning out of control. My world tilts on its axis as Natasha murmurs to herself: “Why couldn’t it have been me?”

“What?” I question, convinced I hadn’t heard the redhead correctly. Certainly… certainly it cannot be so…

“I know I’m being selfish,” Natasha admits, “but if it were me… if it were me, you wouldn’t be… you wouldn’t…”

“You love me?” Words whispered so quietly, as if afraid to break the illusion.

“Of course, I love you!” Natasha says it as easy as if she were stating the weather. “I meant it when I said I couldn’t live without you. You are everything to me.”

“But… those other women…”

Natasha sighs, mouth pulling into a deep frown. “They were a poor attempt at distracting myself. You were already dating someone else, and no matter how much I wanted to murder him, Clint always talked me down.”

“You love me,” I repeat, disbelief coursing through my veins. All this time…

“Yes.” She furrows her brows. “We’ve already established that. It doesn’t matter, though. Tell me who these flowers are for, please. I can… I can make them-”

“Natasha…”

“Let me help-”

“Natasha!”

“What?” Natasha shouts, chest rising rapidly.

“They’re for you.” The words hang heavy in the air, almost as suffocating as the lilac bush inside my lungs. Natasha just stares, dumbfounded. Her intelligent eyes trace over my features, then to the blooms surrounding us both, then back to my face.

“They’re for me?” Natasha breathes out, her face pinched up. “But I love you.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Natasha flinches as if physically struck, her face contorting into the most pained expression I’d ever seen. “Why wouldn’t you tell me? You were dying because of me, and you didn’t say anything! How could you be so… so… so stupid?”

I open my mouth to retaliate, but stop as soon as I feel the roots inside me tear out of their iron-tight grip on the lining of my lungs. Screaming in anguish, I clutch my chest. Natasha is at my side immediately, a warm presence in the most agonising experience of my life. Her words are drowned beneath ear-splitting cries as flowers pour from my lips. The blood-stained lilacs join my pathetic arrangement, each bloom more painful than the last until, finally, the most excruciating thing crawls up my trachea, thick and hard, scratching at my throat as it expels from my body.

I stare down at the roots of my love, now sitting in my lap. A physical manifestation of my hidden desire for that which I shouldn’t. The room is silent, tension so thick you could cut it with a knife.

I look at the object of my desire, her eyes rimmed red, and the stains from her tears left behind on her cheeks. Even in this moment, she sparks the desire I’ve been tamping down, trying to suffocate it before it grew to this. And yet, in this moment, there is nothing more I yearn for than to kiss her—to taste those chapped lips, to feel her body pressed against mine, so warm, so soothing.

Against my better judgement, throwing all rationale to the side, I lean in. Slowly, so as to give Natasha ample time to pull away, to reject me if she so pleases. But she doesn’t. Her eyes bore into mine as she met me in the middle, tears still on the precipice of falling.

I close my eyes as our lips meet, suppressing the bodily shudder that tries to overtake me as I feel those warm lips move against mine. Never in my wildest imaginings would I have ever believed that Natasha would kiss me like this. So soft, so sensual, every bit as sweet as she is. Treating it as the most precious moment, treating me as the most important thing in her life. Every moment so tender, the care behind her lips more than I’ve ever even dared hope for in my lifetime.

Natasha pulls away first, and I open my eyes to see the wet streams of tears flowing down her face. “You taste like lilacs,” Natasha says, her eyes darting to the flowers strewn about the bed.

She sniffs once, wiping the tears from her face. “I’m still mad at you,” she says, voice still a bit unsteady from the overwhelming emotions of almost losing me.

“I’m sorry,” I say because I truly am.

“You could’ve died. You almost died because you didn’t tell me that you loved me.”

“You never said that you loved me either,” I counter, squirming at the way her eyes pin me.

“You were in a relationship,” Natasha protests.

“You were in multiple relationships.” A low blow, sure, but nonetheless true.

Natasha glares at me. “They meant nothing to me.”

“They meant something to me.”

Silence encapsulates the room.

Then, “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I think we both messed up.” I sigh. “I… I’m not that comfortable with this kind of thing.”

Natasha raises a brow at me. “What do you mean?”

My face heats under her calculating eyes. “I don’t… I’m not comfortable with people knowing that I’m… that I like women.”

Natasha frowns at that, and for a second, I think that it’s over. No one would want to help pick up the shattered pieces of my self-esteem. Not even the most patient person could put up with such a thing. If I can’t love myself for who I am, who am I to expect someone else to? I couldn’t possibly ask Natasha to stay with me though I feel shame for our relationship.

“Why not?” Natasha asks.

“I don’t know.” For honesty is the best policy. It’s better for her to know that I won’t be an easy fix. That this insecurity runs as deep as the dark cave I buried my truth in.

“But you still want to be in a relationship with me?” Natasha questions, voice teetering on the verge of sounding hopeful.

“Of course,” I say, “I just don’t want you to be upset that I want to keep it private.”

“I don’t care,” Natasha insists, stubborn as always.

“Maybe not at the moment, but you will.” They always do. Not that I could ever fault them when their own girlfriend doesn’t want to even hold their hand in public.

Natasha narrows her eyes at me, taking in the certainty of my statement. “Comparing me to anyone else wouldn’t be fair.”

I swallow down the urge to berate her for being so observant. “You’re telling me that you don’t care if I’m not comfortable holding your hand in public? That you don’t mind us not showing up to events as a couple? That it might take years for me to ever be ready for even the idea of telling the team? That it’ll take even longer for me to be comfortable with the idea of marriage?”

Natasha smiles at my rant, only furthering my rapidly beating heart. “I love you. I don’t care how slow we take this. I just want you.”

“That’s not…” I trail off, unable to form a single coherent thought. That’s not what was supposed to happen. She was supposed to realise how much work I was—how loving me was a feat impossible to overcome.

“What about my boyfriend?” I gasp. “I kissed you while we were still-”

“He’s done more than that with others,” Natasha interrupts, voice downright murderous. “Don’t you dare feel bad about that. He’s a piece of shit.”

“He’s not that bad,” I feel obligated to say.

“I would murder him without a second’s hesitation.”

“Nat!” I scold, hitting her arm. Natasha grabs my hand, bringing it to her lips before placing a reverent kiss on it.

“I would kill anyone for you,” she smiles.

“That is the most awful thing I’ve ever heard you say,” I groan behind my laughter.

“It made you laugh, didn’t it?” Natasha asks, pulling me into her arms. She brushes through my hair, the steady rhythm of her chest nearly lulling me to sleep. “Don’t ever do something like that again,” she murmurs into my hair, holding tight.

“I think it’s pretty safe to say that I won’t get Hanahaki again. Unless you stop loving me, of course,” I smirk.

“I’m serious.” She pulls away from me, a frown steady on her face. “If you even so much as a cold, I want to hear about it, alright?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I dutifully respond.

She rolls her eyes at me. “You are something else, y’know that?”

“Hey, you’re the one that’s in love with me.”

“For better or worse,” she says, kissing me on the forehead.

Taglist: @harleycao @fxckmiup @hallecarey1 @filmsbyblair

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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Hear me out–....

Bob with an s/o,that has a similar entity like the void in them

And the two just trauma bond over that...

(funny add:the void likes s/o but your entity HATES void maybe bob too?)

i can imagine you/reader being in a similar circumstance as Bob, a project or just perhaps born that way with an entity akin to the Void, and seeing Bob's powers first hand.

Again depends if whether you/reader was also a human experiement for a project, or just a really bad accident during childhood where this other entity may have taken over and caused mass destruction, postioning you/reader in a way where you were then taken away by some shifty organisation that cuased you immense trauma and or anything the Void could use against you in any capacity. meanwhile your entity shows bob what he fears most coming to reality or showing him a reality where his fear was very much realised, how it would play out, who'd most likely get hurt, etc.

you and Bob would understand each other better then most in due to your similar issues and constant battles with your innermost demons (aka the void and your entity, which i'm going to call Nox or Nyx) it strengthens your bond to one another, taking comfort in knowing you weren't alone in how you were feeling. You and Bob stay glued to one another like glue, grasping onto the other's hand to unify your strength against Void and Nox/Nyx, always looking out for one another when you could tell that the other was struggling to keep up the internal fighting the others but you and Bob could see within each other.

You both want to fight for each other as well as yoursleves, wanting to take the other's pain away badly in hopes that you/Bob could find peace or at least acceptance in knowing that while neither od you would be getting rid of Void or Nox/Nyx anytime soon at least you know you wouldn't be alone; not truly, not ever if you could help it. fighting alone is one thing but fighting with others and people you love is another more empowering thing that you and Bob would always find pride in.

Void like Nox/Nyx, thinking that his and their power combined would easily overewhelm you, Bob and the rest of the thunderbolts. Him with the ability to put people back into memories of their greatest failures, secrets and trauma, while Nox/Nyx would trap them in hypothetical scenarios where their fears were true, were realised and could physically hurt them outside their domain as well as inside it. potentially even able to kill someone, though that's up for debate.

Nox/Nyx however didn't see Void in any regard, wanting to destroy everyone you hold dear, going so far as to make you see a reailty of John, Ava, Alexei and Yelena but most importantly Bob; dead and all becuase you couldn't control them. Nox/Nyx hated that Bob was your light in the dark, your hidden strenght and essencially your achilles heel, someone they could exploit however they can in order to have you fear any and all interactions with your love and your teammates. They hated that your strength didn't come from them anymore but Bob and the Thunderbolts, they hated how you didn't seem to fear them anymore, the soul thing that made them the powerful entity that they were.

Nox/Nyx also hated that Void seemed to show interest in you, there was only room for one entity within your human vessel and that was them. Void didn't seem to attack you as badly as he did the others, even Bob who was also aware of Void's interest in you and was making efforts in keeping the shadowy entity away from you as best as he could, scared of what Void would do and not wanting to loose you in the process. Void would try and keep you trapped within a room of your past, only for Nox/Nyx to step in and break you out instead and becomes extremely pissed at Void for being pathetic and desperate to have you. only they could have you, Bob and Void would have to wait in line.

By the end you and Bob both would probably try to keep the usage of your powers to a minimum, but you both knew sooner or later you'd both be expected to call upon those greater powers sooner or later, wether you like it or not.

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gayestsimp · 4 months ago

Text

Decaying Life: Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Word count: 1.9k (kinda short, yeah… sorry, just been occupied again ): )

Tag list: @randomlyappearingartist @ryuushou @rowannin @s0ggyrats @maybeethan69 @0-candlecove-0

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Quickly, time would pass on- three years passing away quickly, leaving the eighteen year old to be twenty one. (Name) had become a vigilante with his older brother, the twenty one year old and twenty three year old still living in Jason’s apartment. (Name) had started to make a name for himself, his brother’s combat skills having being passed onto him, using them in the first place to take down enemies, and with that passing of time, the male finally had a better understanding of his powers, and felt… better with using them, often destroying weapons, chains and ropes- and the people… at first they were scared, but once they were saved… they were so thankful- the powers quickly freeing and saving them, but in the end they do have some fear for his abilities… but where still grateful, but since his training had started, (Name) found himself a new name as his brother’s sidekick- Putrefy. The rest of the family only knew of (Name)’s vigilante persona, and although they nonstop harassed Jason to reveal this Putrefy’s identity- but he never did, and the family couldn’t do much- nor did they really want to either- as they’ve all grown to like the vigilante- well more like admire, as they can only watch him from a distance, with the meta human quickly running and hiding from them, not allowing them to interact with him.

Dick thought they were quite impressive, he admired their ability to destroy what they touch, and how careful they were, using fingerless clothes that covered their index and middle fingers only, taking them off when needed. He wanted to know if they could do any acrobats and how flexible they were, along with any tricks they may have or know if so- making the male interested in them. It was fun to have a chase with them as well, but (Name) always seemed annoyed, hating every moment.

Tim figured quickly he and Putrefy were a similar age- the same age truly- and could not only hear the male talking bf about games to Jason- who didn’t actually know the most about them compared to Tim, why talk to the brute of the family when you have someone the same age as you and was an expert on games and just about anything on a computer… Tim would end up finding ways to join Online games with (Name)- who would quickly disconnect- and in person he’d often bring up games that (Name) has been interested in lately… without (Name) ever telling him… weird.

Than there was Damian, he quite enjoyed (Name)’s skills, they were a decent fighter- but he thought they could do better- Jason’s teachings not being up to Damian’s own standards, he would be much better at helping this new hero than his supposed brother truly- and their powers could be quite good to have in case of an emergency, able to quickly escape or destroy something, often Damian would try and spar with (Name), which often resulted in some kind of draw or (Name) making his own escape.

Than there was Batman himself. The man was a mystery, hard to read and hard to tell what he was thinking about- but it was clear he had some kind of liking to Putrefy, considering there was no threat towards the vigilante about being a meta in Gotham. In truth, the Batman had a soft spot for this vigilante… though he wasn’t entirely sure- it was… more like a strange feeling, that having this person around completed something that he never knew he needed.

But for (Name) and Jason?- it was tiring… On Jason’s end, they would never stop interrogated him for Putrefy identity, to invite them over for a family dinner, the only one to know of the vigilante’s identity was Alfred, through a call shared between the three- it was strange not to tell the man that cared for (Name), the male having gotten over his larger insecurities that Alfred only cared for him about his job. On (Name)’s end- he was being bothered… almost every second one of his ex-brothers would come up and beg for his attention, wanting to hang out and have fun… as if they didn’t already have the chance.

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(Name) laid there in the couch, groaning in annoyance, head pounding, it was early in the morning, with Jason drinking a coffee and cooking some pancakes. Last night he had to deal with all his brother’s desperately looking for his attention. Just thinking about it now gave (Name) a headache, thankfully he had some water to help it, it was amazing- the cold and refreshing taste. Jason would than walk in and place the plates down, smiling at (Name) and ruffling the boys chair roughly, causing the male to chuckle and push Jason’s hand away as he sat up. “Thanks Jay.” He spoke starting to eat straight away, enjoying the taste of the pancakes. “No problem… you wanna watch something?- I’m gonna go out to work-“ (Name) didn’t even know Jason job and never brought it up- there was no need, (Name) had quit his own previous job after everything, he missed the old man- but at least he’s fine- (Name) mostly just takes care of the apartment, Jason makes more than enough for the two of them, allowing for (Name) to kinda just… chill and laze around. “Hm, sure- you can put something on, I don’t really mind…” (Name) spoke as Jason nodded, turning on the TV to just a random documentary- which happens to have a focus on sea life, showing off the beauty and a little horror of the deep blue sea.

Soon enough the brothers would finally finish eating and just enjoy the small moment together before Jason gets up and bid his brother a goodbye, leaving (Name) alone in the apartment, just watching the TV and drinking away water. It was a peaceful experience- (Name) could just exist and relax alone for a while, not dealing with anyone barging in or bothering him, but his ears started to burn up until they were burning… a bit strange, maybe someone’s talking about him- or thinking out him- be it as a vigilante or as who he is out of that…. Well than that would be Jason- so likely his vigilante persona.

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Though that wouldn’t be the case- in fact it was the second last person (Name) expected to remember him. Dick. The acrobatic male was simply walking around the manor, it felt the same as always- well maybe a little more empty… it was off and he couldn’t think as to why… so that lead to the male snooping around- nothing seemed out of place- well until he made his way to the side of the manor where none of their bedroom were and it was incredibly dusty- and typically Alfred ensure everything was cleaned- so it was strange to see a part of the manor so dirty, causing the male to investigate all he could in this section, opening door after door- most just held old items, things lost to time, so many were just filled with nothing but random items, all until one room, one room which was kept clean- one with a decent bed inside of it- a simple bed with thin covers, no items inside- completely empty besides the bed… well except for a book or two, and some childish drawings- one being what looks like two small stick figure boys- labelled Jason and (Name). Was this Jason’s room? Is what first entered Dick’s mind before he shook it out of his head… wait- who is (Name)?

Dick would try to think through his mind, circling with all sorts of ideas- (Name) must have been someone close to Jason to be in a picture in Jason’s former room- wait no, this was on the complete other side of the manor for bedrooms- maybe it was a guess room?- perhaps this (Name) stayed a night and was the one who draw this… yeah that seemed possible and was most likely, though how come he never met (Name) before?- or was told by Jason… did (Name) mourn for Jason at his passing? It was pretty much just him, Alfred and Bruce mourning… wait- Dick would halt for a second- he remembers a crying boy, one begging for a comfort and release from his distress, crying for Jason- their… brother. “How could I… forget… how could I forget about my own brother…”

Dick would quickly sit down on the bed, head hanging low as he went through his mind, trying to remember anything about his brother… he must’ve took him out somewhere, hung out, go ice cream, helped with homework… but he had nothing- not a single moment he spent with (Name)… how could he forget someone that lived here for almost their entire life- a boy that was found covered in his mother’s blood while she was but sliced and broken pieces… who could have done that to this boy?… why didn’t he help or care for them? Why wasn’t he there for them like he was for the others?- wait… does anyone else remember (Name)? Surely Tim has to know- he’s too intelligent and observant to let someone slip under his nose- but not once was he ever brought up…

What about Damian?- surely they know, after all, those two shared blood, and considering how Damian more better respect their bond as family and made his way into it, he must of kept notes on them- but than again, he could partially remember some more… cruel ways Damian treated (Name)… he must’ve drove them away- they never had any training or were a vigilante, they were just a normal… teen?- god, Dick couldn’t even remember how old (Name) was- he was a terrible brother…

But there was likely one of them that would know- Jason!- he and (Name) were close, at least he thinks… that drawing says so! Maybe his little Jaybird knows and could reconnect their family! If Jason could accept them and come back after all that, sure (Name) could as well! After all, what happened to them was the same treatment they all got- they all lost a parent- or even both, Damian had tried to hurt or kill them all, so it was basically nothing… though perhaps they could all apologise, after all, each of them did ignore (Name) for… well however long he’s stayed in the manor for- and now that Damian was better with people, than he’s surely accept his brother related by blood and (Name) will forgive them- they never meant to treat (Name) so badly, so they’ll make it up, for every day and second not spent together, another five will make it all up!

So Dick pulled out his phone, deciding to try and find (Name)’s number, perhaps he could talk to them directly instead?- after all, he likely gave his number in case of emergencies, and than he wouldn’t have to bother Jason… but than Dick would find out that he doesn’t even have a (Name) in his contacts… alright, so Jason it is! Than with a few taps and rings, the phone was answered, leaving Dick to speak out. “Hey Jaybird! Remember (Name)?… was wondering if you’ve seen him… or know where he is? I wanna check up on my little brother!”

#decaying life #male reader #male!reader #batfam #batfam x male reader #batfam x reader #dc x male reader #dc x reader #batfam x neglected reader #dcu #male x male reader #yandere batfam x reader #yandere batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #male

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tcoaal · 3 months ago

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a fundamental key aspect of examining literature is the author's intention, and everything we do with that intent: be it accepting it or rejecting it. it is among the most important tasks of the reader: when you do a critical analysis, especially so.

i am a very, very, very firm believer the "Word of God" is secondary to what is presented in the actual text. it is most important to examine what has been said or done in the text and it's implications directly, that is my personal belief as a reader. however, i believe that the author's intent is not something that should be ignored.

Nemlei is very clear, for example, that the idea of the siblings acting the way they are due to a neurodivergence or mental illness is not the right way to think. this is observable in the text.

Andrew and Ashley didn't become murderous incestious cannibals because they were born the right way or crazy or some stupid shit like that. they are the products of a society and world that has completely and absolutely failed them at every opportunity.

the coffin does not exist because they were naturally destined for it.

i've always thought, from the moment i played it, this is it. this is the moment Ashley Graves became a Tar Soul. i think it was the last chance Renee had to say "Holy shit, I'm a fucking terrible mother." and try to help her. and when Andrew, a child himself, fell asleep (not something he should blamed for) as Ashley tried to share her pain. the moment a Tar Soul hatched.

so that leads into the second half. about accepting or rejecting the author's intent.

the final room in Shots and Such is haunting. there's so much you can easily miss. the bathroom, Ashley's last safe space, being destroyed in a rampage by Andrew. the fucking table. the one time they had sex Andrew in his right mind enjoyed, Ashley only able to enjoy it as she was so drunk she could not be "herself" and breaking down afterwards. even small things like Andrew not taking out the garbage and Ashley preferring to let it affect their living space than help him out. everything in that small apartment from hell: everything must be viewed together as the whole, as the sum of all it's parts.

there is a clear intention of the author in those so easily missable scenes. the mutual love and hatred between them, with hatred greater than love. the dysfunction and normalization of violence into just another day.

Andrew having raped Ashley and probably not even processing it was rape is just another dime in the dozen incident in that little hellhole. hell, maybe that was the night he knocked up Ashley.

we can interpret this scene in different ways, even though i think the author's intention is pretty clear. Ashley could not consent. she lost all control, they had sex, and Andrew can't piece together what went wrong. the one night they actually "made love" which is clearly an opinion he and only he has.

... and you know, we have to accept author's might not have the same morality as us. the same opinions.

"If two people get super drunk, and have sex, who's at fault?" and some people might not have answers we like. an author might even write an opinion we vehemently disagree with from the bottom of our heart.

and it is our duty as readers to discern and interpret their works. i truly, sincerely believe this. i believe from the bottom of my heart the author's intention has become clear in shots and such.

"No one asks when she kicks you out for the night, or which stairs she fell down this time. It's all business as usual."

the normalization of both abuse and despair.

to the point even this becomes just another tidbit of that hell.

hate the idea that an abuse victim can become an abuser all you want. i think it is clear what it is Nemlei has tried to convey. hate it, reject it, love it, accept it, or ignore it. disagree or agree with me. i personally have read this and have arrived at my conclusion based on the text given to me, and analysis of the dialogue in this scene as well.

Nemlei is not writing for us. she makes that clear.

and it is up to us if we want to accept or reject that.

#original post #the coffin of andy and leyley #tcoaal #shots and such #ashley graves #andrew graves #coffincest #gravecest #meta

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vacz · 7 months ago

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I present to you my idea of a alternative bad ending for Wirt...

THE HUNTER

Instead of Beast!Wirt is Woodsman!wirt

After accepting the deal with the Beast, Wirt became the new lantern barer in hopes to keep Greg alive. He took the job to cut down the ellewoods and make them oil to feed the lantern so Greg's soul would never turn off, exactly what the woodsman used to do with his daughter. But as different from the woodsman, Wirt does know where the ellewoods truly came from, so the Beast has decided to take advantage of it and included him a little bit more into his chase for new victims. Now having Wirt helping the Beast to guide lost souls to the wrong path, it has become so much easier for the Beast to trap new souls

Wirt's role was this for a time: Becoming the new woodsman and finding lost kids to give them wrong directions or ideas. Despise how much he refused in the beginning, soon the Beast made him understand that this was the price for his mistakes, unless he wanted to Greg pay the price instead...

Until one night, Wirt had to confront a travel soul. A boy like him, wanting to save his little brother from the cruel breaches of the tree growing on his helpless body, and finally leave the woods with him, like Wirt himself once did. However, the Beast pressured and demanded him to take action himself, but unlike the old woodsman, Wirt did cut the boy down.

And since that incident, Wirt now has a new task to commit every time a new soul enters into the unknown.

He could barely sleep at night before, now he can't sleep at all. Wirt has stopped taking care of himself, at least he washes his hair and clothes once in a time but time itself seems so uselessly long for him until the point that things don't seem to matter anymore, nothing matters for Wirt, not even himself and his feelings... except keeping the lantern lit

The Beast knows better than anyone that Wirt's mind has become so weak until the point that he can't even survive by himself. He had succeeded in destroying this boy whole identity, only leaving a white paper to work on, so now he tries mold Wirt according his own twisted needs. Ironically, thanks to the Beast's influence, Wirt remembers the reason why he has to keep going with this but also he slowly starts to see people in a similar way that the beast's twisted perception does; trees to feed the lantern, not ready to burn yet but they must be prepared.

It's not surprising how much he has given up to the Beast. But unlike him, Wirt doesn't like to "play" or manipulate their victims, because he doesn't want to know them at all. Wirt already knows how these people will end, and he doesn't want to feel worse than he feels now, so he mostly tries to make his interactions shorter or cut them down directly, the quicker the easier it is for him to adopt this 'human dissociation' mentally

Of course, when he chooses violence, people tend to run rather than do what he plead, so he has to chase after them. Running after someone is exhausting for Wirt because he isn't that athletic in that aspect, and it's frustrating when he can't reach them. There are times when they manage to escape and some others that they don't

Wirt hates running after them, because it makes the situation more torturous and he gets exhausted. But if they don't start running, he is the one who tells them to do so. He doesn't understand very well why he does this but he likes to think that is a way to give them a chance to escape so he doesn't have to be the one to end with them, after all Wirt wants to believe that he is not evil

And yet, at the same time Wirt finds some kind of satisfaction on it... He is scared of what he is becoming.

Of course, he has this little duality inside his brain. The Beast has done a good job to keep Wirt in his role but still that doesn't make Wirt's guilt disappear at all

At least, his guilt has been manifested into a voice, represented by the rock fact. Even if the rock fact was meant for Greg to make silly but un-true facts, Wirt's interpretation of his own rock facts are the cruelest truths he refuses to believe. The rock fact represents that honest and logical part of him that is still there, under the tone of the self hate Wirt has grown on himself.

Of course, when he is around people for a longer period than he feels he should, Wirt stops trying to act normal and let himself to act a little... dramatic, in hopes to scare them or "prepare" himself mentally to go and chase them down with the axe

For this, he likes to use the rock fact. He always keeps it in his hair and uses it to try to re-create a rock fact like the ones Greg used to make, but instead of charming or adorable he looks insane, and he already knows that. Of course, he tries to re-create them seriously when he is alone but still fails miserably

Wirt does this in a poor intent to feel in touch with Greg, even tho they usually talk a lot with each other

Jason Funderberker has been gone for a long time by now, so the Beast is the only company Wirt has left, but most of the time he is alone.

He doesn't devout that his brother is there anymore, after all, Now Wirt can hear Greg's voice coming out of the lantern so what would be a better proof than that?. Greg is the only person left who seems to not hate him or is scared of him, the little ray of sunshine in his poor cruel life. If you tell him otherwise, Wirt won't want to believe you, even if deep down somehow, someway no matter how delusional he may be... He knows is true

Of course, I wouldn't recommend saying this because after having a nervous breakdown he will absolutely go after you with all pure rage.

Now here are some questions and its explanations:

Where does this idea come from?

Where does the name "The Hunter' come from?

What's Wirt and The Beast's relationship?

Wirt, The Woodsman, The Hunter and The Beast

Where does this idea come from?

It's no surprise that it comes from the idea of a bad ending for Wirt, one that is more fitting with the logic of the series. Because let's be real;

If he accepted the deal he wouldn't turn into the new beast because The Beast's motivation was to survive, he doesn't seem to want a replacement or transpass the role to anyone. In that case he would have already done it with The Woodsman.

The unknown was completely fine with the Beast gone so is not that he is THAT important for the forest to need a replacement.

Also, remember this little scene? it's from chapter 1: The Old Grist Mill. When Wirt and Greg just entered the unknown and suddenly heard the Woodsman cutting wood, before talking to him, Wirt said:

"Do you think it's some kind of deranged lunatic with an axe waiting out there in the darkness for innocent victims?"

So I thought; What if in the bad ending... He became that deranged lunatic?

Where does the name "The Hunter" come from"?

In the concept:

Since there are times when Wirt's victims escape, those who survived spread the word of a maniac who is wandering around the woods, looking for new victims, and once he finds them he will chase them until he can cut them down to the bone with his axe

They named him "The Hunter"

Wirt knows about his new reputation, since the travelers call him that once he reveals his real intentions, but he isn't really aware of all the rumors and stories people of the unknown had made about him, he knows that he will not like them but at the same time he is very curious about it. Some of them are true and others are just exaggerating. But at this point, Wirt Hunter had accepted that now he is one of the particular characters of the unknown.

In technical explanation:

In Over The Garden Wall we saw that most of the characters are named by "the what" for example: The Beast and The woodsman, they had no name by their own outside of their archetype. So I thought that in Wirt's case he would have a name like that, losing his own as a representation of how he has lost his own original identity. Wirt is no longer "the worthy one" anymore because he is more lost than the woodsman ever was, and there is no chance to bring him back, so he became "The Hunter" for the unique faction that makes himself distinguish from The Woodsman: The killing

The woodsman is just a man who lives in the woods and cuts trees, it just happens that the Beast used one to keep the lantern on. However.... The Hunter is someone that hunts, the whole point of a hunter is that he chases living beings and strap them, mostly for need. That is something The Beast himself does in his own way, which makes Wirt and The Beast more similar and unionite than the previous dynamic with The Woodsman, or even I dare say they are just alike; The Creature and The Man who hunts for surviving

Also, more into Bad End Friend's territory; Every evil alternate version has their own unique name, for example the icon trio, Bipper and Ice Finn (Also officially named "The Snowman") but then we have just "Beast Wirt" and until now NOBODY has come up with an actual name that fits him. I remember that someone already suggested the name "The Hunter" for Beast Wirt but it didn't make much sense (At least to me). However, in a woodsman context I think it could work better.

What's Wirt and Beast's relationship?

In Wirt's perspective

Basically a case of Stockholm Syndrome: At first he felt more like a prisoner, The Beast was a figure who he should follow if he wants to keep Greg alive, he is more than Wirt and his power overcomes his young self. However as the time passed, Wirt realized that the Beast can also be very merciful and at the same time rightfully ruthless as his monstrous nature allows him, as he has 'shown' him acts of trust. For Wirt, The Beast is a dark but fair being, not as evil as everyone told. The Beast acts similarly like a father would do towards Wirt, but without that human openly caring love. He is strict and cold, but is for Wirt and Greg's own good

In Beast's perspective:

Wirt is nothing but an interesting experiment. The Beast has been manipulating every little detail of Wirt's surroundings, so he decides to obey him by own choice, which worked out way better than expected. He has seen Wirt changing to fit into his needs, becoming more useful and useful than last time. Anytime the Beast has thought he reached the limit, Wirt proves him wrong and finds a way to pass it and go on anyway. His determination is so fascinating to the Beast that he continues to see how far he could go

Their dynamic:

Naive teen being manipulated by his father figure to be useful for his plans or desires (but even more mess up)

Examples of this kind of dynamic are Rapunzel and Mother Gothel from Tangled (2010) or Hunter and Belos from The Owl House (2020)

Wirt has been alone for so long to the point that he holds tightly to anything that could give him a minimum sign of love, and The Beast knows that more than anyone

He has taken advantage of this, so by convincing Wirt to isolate himself and showing barely love, Hunter would listen and obey him without any doubt. It doesn't matter if The Beast is the main responsible for his situation, things have been twisted so much to that point that Wirt fully believes that this is all his fault. He must do the right thing at any cost, after all, he would do anything for the ones he loves right Gregory?

Wirt, The Woodsman, The Hunter and The Beast

These are the four identities Wirt adopts in the time on the unknown, like states of his sanity slowly decaying

Wirt

The anxious teen we all know and love, the guy he has been during his journey until the point where he faced the Beast face to face

The Woodsman

Wirt post-deal

At first:

He doubts that Greg may be in the lantern, and now he regrets his decision. However he doesn't know what to do now because the guilt for Greg will not leave him in peace, and so Wirt feels like he doesn't deserve to go home, he can't go back, no without Greg. So he still lives in the forest, feeding the lantern and hearing the Beast's words, however The Beast insists that Greg is indeed in the lantern, but Wirt isn't sure whether to believe him or not

Even if Wirt knows he needs the ellewood, like the woodsman, he tries to help and warns about the Beast to those who came into the unknown

The Beast warned him about helping people, but he didn't listen to him until one night. There was an incident where he almost lost Greg's light forever for the lack of ellewood. Since then, Wirt finally cooperates with the Beast

At last:

Wirt knows what he must do. He misguides those who pass through the way in forms to get enough ellewood for Greg, always making sure to keep himself distance and not get too close with them. However there are times where he can't NOT sympathize with the travelers and so he offers his genuine help

The Beast wasn't comfortable knowing that Wirt still kept helping people.

The Hunter

Wirt post-murder

At first:

After his first kill, Wirt felt so guilty that he stopped taking care of his health (He stopped eating, bathing, and stuff) and encaged himself inside the house with all the bottles of oil, fearing that he would hurt someone again

At this time Wirt started to hear the voices of Greg, the rock and the crying of the lost souls, and talk to them until he ran out of oil

When he finally went outside, his body was too weak to even walk and he fell on the grass unconsciously. At that moment the Beast thought Wirt died and so he was about to take off the lantern, but the boy's hands wouldn't stop grabbing it with all the fury. The Beast kept trying until suddenly Wirt woke up and said to him that as long as his brother needs him he would be still here. For his stupid unbreakable determination, the beast didn't see any other option but to take care of the kid

As he recovered, The Beast started to convince him of the idea of taking people as nothing but ellewoods he needs. Wirt didn't like it at first, but the Beast's kind act and the poor health state he put himself into finally made him accept the new task.

At last (actual state):

Most of the time he is alone, searching around the forest for more ellewood to feed Greg with, day and night. He doesn't fully sleep, he takes naps in the afternoon so he can be wake up all night as he wants. To eat he hunts animals, fish, rabbits and some other birds or frogs, whatever living being he finds. To entertain himself he recites poetry and sings songs that the Beast has taught him, all loud like someone would listen to him. At home he writes his poems and composes his own music, mostly for clarinet.

At times the voices are louder and other times they are quiet. If it's Greg then it would be a nice time, if it's the rock fact it's a guarantee he would be at least pissed off, and if it is the distant crying of the lost souls then paranoid it is.

When someone crosses his way, it depends on how things are going to see how things will end. When he just indicates the direction you'll better leave as soon as you can, because the longer you stay and talk to him Wirt will act weirder in hopes for you to leave him alone, otherwise, if you cross the line with your words, he probably will run out of patience and starts to prepare the axe

But it also depends on how likeable he finds you. He could not care and warned you before he attacks you as usual, he could hate you so much to the point that he attacks you with no warning, he could like you and give you five seconds of advantage, and if he likes you a little bit more he would become obsessed with you and will maintain you inside his house so the Beast will not know about your existence as long you don't go outside

The Beast

The Beast (According to the Woodsman's words) is the death of all hope. How low would you have to go so you lost your whole humanity to become the living embodiment of one of the darkness concepts in human kind?

If Wirt ever became the Beast, he should have been falling in grace until the lowest point a person could go. So in my idea of The Hunter, I like to imagine that the differences between The Beast and Wirt would slowly fade away until they are one in the same

Inside The Hunter, Wirt has not only become lost in life but he has also lost his identity, his spirit, his desires and his home. The one thing left to lose is his humanity... His soul

The only thing that separates him from The Beast, is him holding on to the last piece of humanity he has left; Greg

Day after day his sanity is drifting away, but it's because of Greg's existence that he is connected with his humanity, because his actions are meant for Greg's surviving, not his

If Wirt descends to absolute madness and forgets completely about Greg but also openly enjoys his cruelest actions, to the Unknown's eyes, he would no longer be worthy of humanity, and as a punishment he would be cursed to be the successor of the Beast

And becoming worse.

Like I have been having this idea in my mind for a while now and I wanted to share it. I hope you liked my idea and the drawings I made because it really took me a lot of time trying to finish this post because you know... Christmas and happy new year (ah yes, what a happy post to show in these lovely times, yeah!)

SO WHAT YOU THINK?

#bad end friends #over the garden wall #otgw #otgw wirt #otgw fanart #otgw greg #the beast #beast wirt #woodsman wirt #woodsman!wirt #beast!wirt #bef #otgw au #au #art #my art #fanart #I KNOW ITS CRINGE AND EDGY BUT HEAR ME OUT PLASE #I had this idea for a while now and I really wanted to share it with someone so if you like HURRAY!!!#I just wanted to propose something different from the clasic 'Beast guardian concept' and all #which are actually valid interpretations of what is the beast's connection with the unknown #I just already seen it before and also there is very little content of Woodman!wirt so here we go #I love 'mad arc' and 'villain arcs' with protagonist and Wirt is my favorite character #also Hunter is perfect yandere material #I KNOW IM CRINGE BUT IM FREEEE #so everyone of the main cast are mostly death literally or spiritually in this au #this is literally type of Au: 'Everything that could go wrong went wrong'#Beatrice and her family are likely death as bluebirds #Sara is passing through a big depression after halloween #and lets not talk about Greg

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mylastmoleculeofserotonin · 3 months ago

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How is Silco actively trying to make her mental health worse for his personal gain

Did we watch the same show??

I’m planning to make a post going more in depth on this later, but basically it boils down to:

1) He takes her history with Vi and twists his with Vander to make it seem similar as a way to create a false sense of closeness and solidarity between them. He uses this as “proof” that she cannot rely on anyone else, making her extremely dependent on him and him alone for everything from getting her basic needs met, to emotional support. Which alone is bad enough for one’s mental health, not to mention that his approval and affection is connected to how well she performs in missions/what she does to further his plans. Now where I got the intentionality from is that what happened between Silco and Vander was, to put it generously, a conflict of ideologies between two adults, whereas what happened with Vi and Powder was the heat of the moment getting the better of Vi after Powder accidentally killed their whole family as kids. And Silco knew this: prior to the time skip, the only things he says to/about Vander are about their ideologies, how he doesn’t hate him for trying to murder him, and that this whole thing isn’t personal, it’s a necessary step in his plan, the base violence necessary for change. However, that narrative changes completely when he talks to Jinx about it. Silco overemphasized/exaggerated how close he and Vander were and completely downplayed the ideological reasons that pushed them into conflict since that was 100% not what came between Vi and Powder, instead implying it came out of nowhere. Also he talks about it a lot to Jinx even though he was supposedly over it, creating too much disparity for there not to have been at least some level of twisting the story. (Now, even if he genuinely did see it as that harsh of a betrayal and truly is a deeply still affected by it, dumping it onto his teenage daughter who supposedly went through the same thing and using it to tell her to never rely on anyone else while he fully trusts and relies upon at least Sevika if not some other of his operatives, making it still an intentional action to worsen her mental health).

2) he encourages her conflict of identity: Jinx, in season one, is still torn between her identities as Powder and Jinx, and the mentally healthy and constructive thing to do would be to help her accept both parts of herself to create an identity where “I destroy everything I touch” isn’t the core of it (as we see with AU Powder). But that’s the exact opposite of what Silco does. He creates a false dichotomy between Powder and Jinx, saying that one is the source of all her weaknesses and needs to die and the other is perfect and can do no wrong. Accepting and embracing one’s shortcomings is necessary for good and stable mental health, however, Jinx feeling like she’s not allowed to be weak and has to be perfect like Silco says she is, lest she disappoints/lets him down is one of the worst things for one’s mental health. Plus the fact that what made her become Jinx was one mistake and the Powder=mistakes=weakness/Jinx=perfection=strength narrative he spins for her doesn’t allow for her to process her trauma and encourages her to push aside any mistakes she makes and bottle up the subsequent emotions which also is awful for her mental health.

3) He gives a very young, traumatized kid military grade weapons and has her run jobs to hurt her community for his crime empire. Not to mention that one of those said weapon is explosives, the very thing that caused her so much trauma. Also, he has her make another hextech explosive and when she says no, it’s too traumatizing, he still forces her to do it and uses it as an opportunity to bring up the first two points.

4) He only shows his approval/gives her affection when she is successful. The only times we see him be affectionate/approving of her is when she steals the hex tech gemstone and helps him with his eye. Meanwhile, when she is clearly suffering after the mission in episode 3, he only addresses it in terms of “what happened and how can we fix it” while barely looking at her before sending her away. The last thing Jinx needs is to be deprived of connection when she fails at something/makes a mistake as that was also at the center of her past trauma, which Silco is fully aware of and yet still does to her anyway.

5) the only time where we really see that he may genuinely care about her is when he is prepared to sacrifice the peace treaty for her. However, we get to hear his true thoughts about her and it is clear that he sees her as his undoing bc he couldn’t help but grow attached to her. Which definitely implicates that he was actively trying to avoid forging emotional connections with her while he makes her so dependent on him. This is reinforced by the fact that he saw Vander’s kids as prizes to be won, not children to be adopted or even people to be cared for, but tools to be used.

6) and this one isn’t one that he would have for certain known and actively used against her, but Powder’s main motivation is to help those she cares about, and with Silco, helping him is equated with hurting others, which again world exacerbate her conflict of identity and making it extraordinarily difficult to see herself as a good person, which is also a key factor in children’s development and mental health.

And out of doing all this, he gains an unwaveringly loyal teenage super soldier who everyone in the undercity is deeply terrified of.

Now with all that said, this isn’t meant as any hate towards Silco or anyone who likes him. I find him an extremely well written and compelling character. I just think he’s an awful person.

#arcane analysis #arcane #jinx #jinx arcane #powder #arcane powder #silco #arcane silco #anti silco #vi arcane #vi and jinx #vi #silco and jinx #vander arcane #vander #vander and silco #character analysis

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boylied · 4 months ago

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Animorphs Reread- The Message

I've been sick all week, but Cassie is here to heal me. Let's get into it.

These early books all do a great job of showing us what the kids would prioritize their powers for without the war. Rachel and Tobias become ecoterrorists. And Cassie investigates what's been eating her animals.

Also the first sign of Cassie having Magical Powers.

I don't know how much time has passed since book 3, but i love that Cassie and Tobias are all jokes now about him eating live rodents.

"I would be glad to give him a picture of me in a dress or something" -GIRL PLEASE

I know that the group (esp Rachel) can get antagonistic with Marco, but we have to give it to him here. He didn't get overly defensive or combative. He knows why they're acting this way towards him. And he just comes out and reassures them that he's on their side.

And the yeerks begin to suspect that the "Andalite Bandits" might actually be humans. I forgot that it was brought up this early in the series. Because these kids were thoughtful, but early on they really weren't as careful as they should have been. Truly the only reason their secret went on for so long was that no one was brave enough to tell Visser 3 he might be wrong.

As a kid I always had more of a crush on Marco. But the way Cassie talks about Jake? I get it girl. 13 year olds are swooning.

Wait. This farm has been in your family since the Civil War? Putting aside the theory that these kids are somewhere in California (not canon. i get it). You're telling me that this Farm has been in Cassie's African American family since the American CIVIL WAR??? Sure, Let's not explain further.

Cassie's book is also the first time we get the dialogue over the ethics of morphing. I understand some of the hate Cassie gets, but honestly, when people complain about her always talking ethics? Get over it. It's a good thing. These are middle schoolers. The fact that they're having discussions over the ethics of taking animal dna, cloning that animal, and then mind controlling it? And then the variances depending on which animal/their intelligence level/asking consent? We should want our kids talking about this kind of thing.

"We can all morph fine" -oh the humility. a humble queen. but no Cassie. You are an artist sculpting a beautiful pot, and the others are kindergarteners smashing clay into makeshift ashtrays that their parents won't use.

It's bittersweet how these kids only get to act like kids by giving in to the dolphin mind.

Hold up, THIS is when they think of using the morphing power to heal? I guess it is? Their missions so far have been failures, but they haven't involved near death injuries. This is a bizarre realization.

I really love this moment between Cassie and Marco. Cassie is often portrayed as this wise earth mother type. But here we get to see that this is a major growing up moment for her. She needs to start making active decisions, and not just letting other people take responsibility. The war makes this transition a bit more life and death than most teenagers get, but still necessary.

This plan! This is the one. They're finally being smart about this. Morphing gulls to get a ride on a ship? Resting before going dolphin? They're finally thinking strategically.

Ax's introduction is just so beautiful. He's a child, raised by a militaristic education system during wartime. And now he's alone and afraid and trying very desperately to impress and assess these aliens who in a matter of minutes have just told him that his older brother (the War Hero) has broken their most sacred laws and was murdered by Visser 3.

This is also the first time we hear the black and white version of the andalites vs yeerks. I know that the truth is much more complicated than what Ax is saying. But right now, it's just a group of kids talking. One side is fighting to save others. One is fighting to destroy others.

And there we have it. The team is all together finally. A lot of firsts in this book that I had forgotten about. I'm excited to re-experience these kids integrating Ax into the group. Also, grateful for magic talking whales.

#animorphs book club #cassie #jake berenson #marco #rachel berenson #tobias #aximili esgarrouth isthill #4

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donquixotehomura · 1 month ago

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Yandere Donquixote Doflamingo x Loving Darling: Sugar Coated Poison

Yandere Doflamingo who waited long till he decided to take you all to himself.

Yandere Doflamingo who spent months courting you and dating in a normal way till his patience ran out.

Yandere Doflamingo who constantly felt the need to destroy everyone you talked to in your family, friends and work.

Yandere Doflamingo who loved hearing those loving words come from your mouth, that smile you'd give him, those kissed you'd always lean in to give him, deep and passionate.

Yandere Doflamingo who finally had enough of sharing you with others, having to let you go to work or family events.

Yandere Doflamingo who lures you to what will become your cage with sweet words and promises.

Yandere Doflamingo who delivers on his sweet promises but next day the shackled are on and the cage is locked.

Yandere Doflamingo who was shocked and immediately suspicious from how accepting of the situation you are.

Yandere Doflamingo who had planned to make you want to stay with sweet words and actions and threats.

Yandere Doflamingo who thought that there's no way you have accepted becoming a bird in a gilded cage, happy to have their wings clipped.

Yandere Doflamingo who needed to prove that your acceptance is a lie so he'd “forget” to lock up.

Yandere Doflamingo who comes back expecting to see that you've run away and he'd have to chase you.

Yandere Doflamingo who could already feel the excitement of the chase fill him, how he'd hunt you down and catch you,, disciplining you for running away from him, teaching you that he's the only one you have.

Yandere Doflamingo who as he goes to grab a drink finds you in the kitchen having a snack, the moment you notice him you grin at him widely welcoming him back home.

Yandere Doflamingo who's so confused and lost that he becomes enraged and marches up to you, yelling why you didn't run, why you didn't escape, he was gone for days and you could have been so far away by now.

Yandere Doflamingo who's baffled when you say you won't run away from *him*, that here is the best place you could be because he's here.

Yandere Doflamingo who doesn't understand why you'd say how much you love him, why you'd say you're happy he took you.

Yandere Doflamingo who's shocked that your only hesitation and worry before he took you here was that you thought that he'll leave you like he left all else and that's what scared you.

Yandere Doflamingo who's confused and baffled as to why someone would want to be with and love someone like *him*, love him so much that they'd accept this, not resist not fight to leave but still has the fiery spirit and rebelliousness he loved but *knew* would be a problem when he locked you up.

Yandere Doflamingo who doesn't know how much you hated your life out there, your family, your work, your so called friends.

Yandere Doflamingo who doesn't understand that you truly think he's the best thing that's ever happened to you and that with him a cage is a heaven.

Loving Darling who wants Doflamingo to believe that she wants to be here with *him*

Loving Darling who's life sucked till she met him, her work was tiring and mundane, not something she liked but tolerated for money, coworkers who had been together for years and she's the one with no relationship with them no matter how long she stayed or how much she tried.

Loving Darling who's colleagues were shit, criticizing her left and right, underhanded compliments and barely covered insults.

Loving Darling who's family sucked, who all treated her differently because she was different and didn't conform to their standards even if each of them had their standards, she wasn't a people pleaser and that didn't sit well with them.

Loving Darling who's friends always busy with other things, not dependable or reliable, friends that when she'd vent to would not give a good answer to her frustrations stating “that's how it is…it's alright” they never try to understand, they never support correctly, they criticize too.

Loving Darling who only had comfort in loneliness and games and fiction, away from those who want to make her into someone she doesn't want to be.

Loving Darling who enjoyed being with Doflamingo, who's attention on her was different than all others, he didn't criticize her, didn't want to change her, wanted her for who she is.

Loving Darling who didn't feel any emotions anymore having had to conceal in fear of criticism, punishment, sarcasm, being made fun of so now she can't even feel her own emotions.

Loving Darling who felt nice and good around him, who didn't even know what love felt like but assumed this is what it is, having her heart beat, her body warm, her thoughts busy, all around him, when he's away she'd miss him and want to run to him.

Loving Darling who's cautious around people because she's been burnt many times by all these pigs out there who pretended to be friends, she was smart, she knew he's dangerous.

Loving Darling who saw all the red flags and ignored them, she knew who he is and what he is, how he'd kill anyone and destroy anything because he wants to, and if it'd further his goal.

Loving Darling who always thought he'd leave her like he left everyone else once he's had his fill, she dreaded it, tried to enjoy the time she had.

Loving Darling who always felt pain when he had to cancel on her, her mind reeling that this is it, he's leaving, next time he'll throw me away.

Loving Darling who got to experience emotions again because of him after being hollow for so long, she'd feel joy and laugh wholeheartedly because of him, she'd feel pain and cry in fear of him leaving her, she felt everything she knew she should because of him.

Loving Darling who followed him happily into the cage and when he locked the door she didn't flinch.

Loving Darling who always knew his sweet words and actions held much more hidden behind them, yet she consumed them like no tomorrow.

Loving Darling who knew he was feeding her sugar coated poison and she drank every last sip.

Loving Darling who knew what situation she was in, what is happening and what her fate is.

Loving Darling who accepted her fate, she kept convincing him how she felt and what she wanted.

Yandere Doflamingo who never knew how she actually felt, how it wasn't a lie or a plan, how it wasn't her being a weakling who surrenders easily till she told him everything.

Yandere Doflamingo who realized she didn't need chains and cages just his attention and love, he could give her all of that and as much of it as she needed.

Yandere Doflamingo who poured her glasses of sugar coated poison everyday and she drank it all with a grin.

Loving darling who even though she knew there was a lot that is wrong here, she didn't want to leave, she was addicted to the poison and she wasn't going to leave even if one day it killed her.

Yandere Doflamingo who would never actually feed her too much poison that she dies, she wants to be with him in life so there's no need for her to die, he wants her alive and by his side.

#one piece #one piece x reader #donquixote doflamingo #donquixote family #one piece doflamingo #doffy #doffy x reader #doflamingo #donquixote doflamingo x reader #donquixote doflamingo x you #doflamingo x y/n #doflamingo one piece #doflamingo x reader #doffy x you #doflamingo donquixote #doflamingo x you #yandere #yandere reader insert

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