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beggamoth · 2 months ago

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To Wed A Dragon

summary | Viserys I Targaryen, being geopolitical genius he is, arranges a marriage between his dangerously serpentine second son Aemond and a wildling of pure First Men blood: the elusive Omega daughter Daemon left rotting in Runestone. It’s all bread and circuses and targcest.

pairing | alpha!!aemond targaryen x omega!!reader with implied social anxiety

parts | 1 2 3

tags | TW!!! OMEGAVERSE!!! not proofread. slowburn (sort of). very chopped english. consists of aemond’s journals. yes, this man journals and draws in margins while giggling and kicking his feet. I accidentally OOCed him so hard I made him a teenage girl. we all kinda forget that he’s technically in his late teens and his frontal lobe is still developing that’s where all dumb decisions are coming from

wordcount | 2,5k

any kind of feedback is highly appreciated!

7th Moon of 127 AC.

I have been promised a wife.

No, not offered - that would imply a choice of any kind, a market stall romance, where I pick a ripe fruit and bite until I get to the sweet pulp, or simply refuse. I was assigned to her as one might be assigned a steward, a bannerman, a new dagger for ceremonial guttings.

And not just anyone, but the current Lady Royce.

The only daughter of Daemon Targaryen and the late Rhea Royce. The Vale's very own afterthought. They put it as unsullied, unspoiled. Apparently, undefeated in the art of vanishing into walls. She has spent her entire life in the Vale, which is to say she has lived as a shadow among shadows. I was told she is ‘clever’ and very ‘fond of reading’ which is what they always say about women who have read too many books to be safely married off.

Other than that, there are no reliable sources of information about my future wife. She has made no public appearances outside Vale. There are no scandalous rumors, no bards’ songs written about her, and not even a small locket portrait.

Nothing. This should be concerning, but instead I find it invigorating. Mystery is the one luxury my station rarely affords. Everything else—titles, dragons, destinies—I inherited or conquered. But this?

This is a locked door. A dark corridor. A question without an answer.

I would’ve been offended but this. But truly—what is nobility if not the art of being unapproachable?

Aegon called it a “divine punishment.” Almost wept while five fingers deep in his goblet. Said I was being shipped off to “fuck a deer in the mountains” as though he hadn't bedded worse in Flea Bottom and paid for that.

As if he understands.

A wife unseen is a strategy untold. She might be a beast or beauty. Insipid or shrewd. Unbearable or invisible. She might very well despise me—and so what of it?

Let her tremble behind stone. I will come. I will look upon her. And I will know how to shape her.

10th Moon of 127 AC.

I have met her.

Lady [name] Royce—named like some tragic mythic heroine who throws herself into rivers over men who aren’t worth the drowning—exists.

She has limbs. A face. Breath. She arrived to the Keep three days later than she was supposed to, swaddled in the gray wool like mourning incarnate with unremarkable bronze brooch with the ornaments of her house, with exactly four retainers, two books, and one expression—inconvenienced disdain.

I reached for her hand to plant a chaste kiss at the back of her palm under the watchful eye of the court, but she recoiled. Openly. As if I had poison on my lips.

And curtsied. Too low. Then, as if it would suffice for the proper greeting, she curtsied again, until her skirts dragged on the ground.

And immediately walked away, no, fled – as if she’s caught a stomach bug. No ‘hello’, no ‘My prince’, she’s just run away with a face of someone preparing to be run over by a cart but hoping it’s a fast one, while her handmaids followed her.

During her first day in the Keep I safely assumed she was:

Unfriendly: She barely looked at me, and when she did, her expression resembled that of someone inspecting spoiled meat. A rather tragic display of poor manners and poorer breeding.

Haughty: She kept her chin raised and her answers curt. When I asked whether she fancied poetry, she responded with: “Not when it rhymes.” Barbarism.

Possibly slow-witted: Her replies to the simple questions always come late, like a letter lost in the post. When I asked if she’d had a good journey, she said: “There was a dead stag on the road. The crows had eaten its eyes.” What in the Seven hells was I supposed to do with that?

Actually—and this I came to realize by the second day—She isn't stupid or arrogant. She's anxious. =Pathologically so. The kind of anxiety that makes you forget how to sit like a human.

She is always clutching her sleeves. Always two seconds late in responding, like it takes her tremendous effort to collect thoughts nervously scattering across her skull. She flinches when addressed directly. She chews the inside of her cheek so often I suspect she may one day bite it off entirely

She annoys the fuck out of me.

And yet—

There is something bewitching in how terribly bad she is at all of this. Like a creature raised underground, suddenly dragged into torchlight, blinking like it’s about to be punished for existing

And I am to marry this... conundrum.

Not even a wild thing. Wild things fight. She doesn’t even seem to think she’s supposed to be real, let alone have some claws.

There’s something irritatingly compelling about it.

I’ve seen men get severely maimed with more grace than she handled a compliment.

She is not what I wanted. She is not what I imagined.

But what I gain is all that matters: Runestone. A keep of my own. Vassals. Land. All mine to command.

A proving ground. A canvas.

If my lady prefers living as a shadow among shadows instead of handling the most basic of human interactions, which is less than a bare minimum for the lady of her station, then I’ll gladly take the burden of ruling in her stead.

This marriage is not a joining of hearts, but of worth. I will become Lord Consort of the Vale’s oldest house and let Daemon spit venom over it.

Let the Lord of Fealbottom rot in Rhaenyra’s little soap kingdom while I, the second son, the maimed, the marked, the maligned—rule.

[margin sketch]

A hastily drawn caricature of Lady [Name] Royce:

Big owl eyes. Tiny, shivering mouth. Hands raised in eternal half-apology. Speech bubble reads: “Um-m”

Labeled: “Lady [Name] of House Sorry.”

10th Moon, Continued — Post-Dinner Entry, written by candlelight and righteous indignation

Tonight was our first shared meal. A private dinner. Intimate, ceremonial, profoundly awkward. Mother insisted we “get to know each other in peace,” which in practice meant a room stuffed with tapestries depicting obscene amount of naked people and exactly two servants who might as well have been executioners for all the tension in the air.

The table stretched between us like a battlefield. She took the other end, as though the space between us could be colonized by silence.

And yet—I could feel her watching me.

Not like a maiden watches her betrothed with shy interest, nor like a courtier observes a prize to be won.

No. It was far stranger.

She glared.

Unblinking. Grim. Purposeful.

Not coquettish or bashful. Not hateful. Just... a stare with weight. Like she was trying to solve me with her eyes and growing very disappointed at the result.

She did not touch the roast. Only picked at a barley cake with tragic resignation.

When asked about the Vale’s northern passes, she said, “They’re cold,” and refused to elaborate.

When asked if she had ridden a dragon before, she said, “No. I don’t like heights or animals who can potentially swallow people.”

When I told a rather clever anecdote about the dying words of a Qohor philosopher, she snorted.

(Not laughed. Snorted. Like a stable boy who’d just heard a fart joke.)

At one point, I attempted civility. I leaned slightly forward and said, in my most gracious tone:

“You keep glaring at me. Do I offend your sensibilities?”

She blinked slowly, as if just now realizing she had a face and it was doing something.

“Oh. Sorry. I wasn’t really thinking.”

What a maddening sentence. She was thinking. I could see the cogs turning, rusted and bristling. But what she meant was: I didn’t realize I was looking at you like you’re a centipede with two legs and blindfold.

An academic approach to the topic of glaring.

In lesser men, like Aegon, the intensity of her stare might’ve provoked fear or flight. But I am a dragon in a man’s skin. I do not run from a pair of eyes that might blink too rarely.

Still, it is worth noting that she never looked at the servants. Never glanced around the room. She stared at her plate. Her sleeves. Me. As if attention, once given, must be locked in place like a punishment.

I suspect—this is a theory—she is not afraid of people. She is afraid of being seen.

The idea that someone might observe her, interpret her, assign her value. That is the horror.

And that is fascinating.

[margin sketch]

Lady [name], hunched over a plate. Above her: thought bubble that reads “Can’t believe I’m being perceived again.”

Caption: “The Hostage Dines.”

11th Moon of 127 AC, in the still hours when even the gods avert their eyes. With a lot of ink stains and deliberate (?) misspells.

Let us address something.

I had hoped. I had, despite all reason, assumed that Daemon’s bloodline—despite its tendency to act like spilled wine on a very stained tablecloth—would leave some visible trace in her.

I imagined silver hair. Violet eyes. High cheekbones and that half-feral Targaryen toothy smirk that says: yes, my family tree looks like a wheel and I’m proud of that.

Instead—

Well, she is not ugly. Lady [name] Royce is—by the standards of men who notice such things—comely. That is the word I choose because it is aggressively neutral. A word with all the erotic tension of day-old porridge. She is not beautiful, not as Aegon defines it (bosomy and all giggles and blushes), nor is she striking like Rhaenyra was at her height, all molten gaze and battlefield charisma.

No.

Instead—

Earthy. Common.

That breed of plain-featured beauty. Broad of brow and warm of eye. That particular kind of non-Valyrian softness that makes people think they’re being comforted when they’re being lied to.

It’s not her fault, of course. She did not choose to be born looking like this. But this is offensive.

I should be marrying a Targaryen goddess. A silver-haired priestess of flame. Not some rustic scribbler’s daughter who looks like she gets nosebleeds when overwhelmed.

I can already see the court’s laughter, though it simmers behind tight lips.

“The one with the eye and the temper? He wed the girl with the library tan and the commoner eyes.”

Do they think I’ll breed heirs with that blood? Do they think my sons will come out brown-haired and morally grounded?

I REFUSE.

If she does not carry my look, then at least she must carry my will. I will Targaryen her by force of proximity. Let her birth children whose dragonblood will run hot, not earthbound Roycelings who get nosebleeds when the bathwater is above lukewarm.

This is not what I wanted.

I had envisioned myself with a Valyrian bride to mirror me—a pale mirror, a prophecy’s consort. Someone who looked like she could breathe fire if you slighted her. Not a girl who apologizes to bread when she doesn’t finish it.

And yet—

I keep looking at her.

Why?

What game is this, where the prize repels you but still draws your gaze?

Is it that she defies me? Or worse: refuses to be impressed?

No matter.

I am Targaryen. She will conform. Or she will vanish into my shadow, and history will remember only me.

[margin sketch]

A tiny baby with his eye-patch and a mop of fluffy brown hair. The baby is saying: “Why don’t I have a dragon, Papa?”

Caption: “A legacy.”

12th Moon of 127 AC, the day of our official engagement — marked by ritual, pageantry, and something that I did not, could not, prepare for.

Today, the engagement rite was held.

In the Old Way, by scent, not just ceremony—Targaryen blood honors both gods and our ancient ways. This was not the wedding, no. But the marking—the exchange of scent to seal intention. It is binding in the eyes of dragonkind. A public declaration of private futures.

There was no music or septons. Viserys was wheeled in for the optics. I, Aemond, took my place beside the girl I will wed.

She wore black and brown. Of course she did. The Royce colors. Iron and bronze. And she looked… still. That’s the word. Still like a storm caught in wax. Hair plaited back, hands tucked into her sleeves.

The ritual was simple.

She leaned toward me first.

AND THEN—

The scent hit.

Maple. And something… else.

Something I cannot name.

Warm. Wet. Red, but not angry red.

Something like—

Like the throb before a wound breaks. Like blood still inside the body, waiting.

No. That’s wrong. Not blood. Not war.

Like want, made into vapor. The slow bloom of hunger where it ought not be. Sweet without being cloying. Ancient. Animal.

It hit the back of my throat and I staggered slightly—not visibly (never that)—but enough that I could feel my knees note the offense.

And my eye—

The pupil blew wide. I felt that.

Like a child’s.

Like a beast’s.

I did not speak for five full seconds.

My mouth may have opened. I refuse to confirm.

She looked at me—looked, not glanced, not fled—and there was a question in her face. Not smugness. Not curiosity. Some kind of half-formed panic. Like she had given too much away on accident.

But still,

It is tradition, after the Omega offers their scent, for the Alpha to reciprocate.

I leaned in, closer than I’d allowed myself to be near her since the very beginning. I saw the gentle slope of her nose. The twitch of her left eye, like a rabbit scenting predator.

I don’t know how I smelled to her.

I do not care.

I Do. Not.

But she swallowed, slow and hard, and her hands gripped the hem of her sleeves until the fabric strained.

Good.

Let her feel it, too.

Courtship begins now. Daily presence. Shared meals. Ritual observation. We are to be seen together. We are to be seen.

She left before the rest. Of course she did. Like a frightened bird who’d perched too long on the wrong windowsill.

But the scent lingers.

Gods.

It’s in my hair. My sleeves. My mouth. I want to name it. Categorize it. Find a metaphor.

I cannot, for all my experience and vocabulary. It is not wine. Not fire. Not snow or rain or steel.

It is her.

And worse—

I think I want it again.

[margin sketch]

A sketch of [name] Royce with her face deliberately oversimplified like a caricature, with swirly lines around her.

The title “The Smell???”

#aemond one eye #hotd x reader #hotd x you #prince aemond #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction

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artificial-transmutations · 11 months ago

Text

The Last Chance!

My head was throbbing, and lights danced in front of me. Distorted music was blaring and for a moment, I felt like throwing up. When my sight cleared a bit, I could see a slim metal lectern in front of me and grabbed it to stabilize myself. Breathe in, breathe out. Slowly, the nausea subsided enough to look around. I was not alone, far from it. I was bathed in bright lights from above and from the sides, and I had to squint to be able to discern my surroundings. There were three more lecterns, arranged in a half circle, and behind that, three more people who didn't look any better than I felt.

In the middle of the circle, there was a big leather chair that was currently empty. Still, most of the lights - artificial lights, headlights - were directed at the empty chair. To all sides, behind the big island of brightness, I could see grandstands with people in the dark, producing a constant loud chattering noise. The room was huge, but had, apparently, no windows.

Even though I've never been in one, it looked a lot like a TV studio to me. The setup looked like a game show of sorts, which means the empty chair was for the host, and I was at one of the contestant's spots.

Which brought me back to the most pressing question: How the hell did I get here?

Let's see, what do I remember... I am Evan, kindergarten teacher, 32 years old, and...

Right. I wasn't very well right now. My boyfriend broke up with me, it was pretty ugly, and then, I went to a bar. I was pretty drunk, but I think I remember leaving the bar again, in the middle of the night and then...

No, total blackout. Nothing that could explain how I got into a TV studio.

I looked at the other contestants, who seemed to be in various states of confusion as well. At the front of the lecterns, I could read their names:

Right next to me, there was Victoria. She looked like a librarian, or a secretary of some sorts. Pretty unremarkable. She seemed perhaps the least uncomfortable and eyed the rest of us with sharp intelligent eyes, nodding slightly as she caught my gaze.

Then, there was Lucas. He looked like he worked as a security guard, or maybe a bouncer, but not one for an exclusive club. His face was broad and his jaw strong and adorned with a goatee, and he wore a tight t-shirt and loose cargo pants. His posture was intimidating, but his eyes were friendly, if perhaps a bit simple.

At the far end, behind the lectern was Blake. He looked a bit like a teacher or a scientist, to be honest. He was slim and tall, had a brown pony tail and wore pretty unfashionable clothes.

For the sake of completion, my own name read "Evan", as expected. I was a pretty normal guy, wearing jeans and t-shirt. I was quite average looking, neither very good nor very bad, and had a bit of a tummy. In short, a very typical guy.

When I looked up again, there was suddenly a man sitting in the chair, wearing a fancy suit, looking into the cameras with a wide smile. I was sure I had not seen him entering, which seemed strange.

Immediately, the chattering from the audience ceased, and the man, who must have been the host, began to speak. So much for trying to escape the situation before the show started.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, and all creatures! Welcome to this wonderful, bombastic, extraordinary episode of 'The last chance'! I'm your host, the magnificent Mr. Mephistolon."

There was a moment of applause and cheering from the dark grandstands, before the man continued. What an odd introduction! Being inclusive is good and all, but 'all creatures'?

"And today, we have our best contestants ever. Give me a cheer for Blake, Lucas, Victoria and Evan!"

Again, there was some applause, which was nice, but I was still confused. What kind of game show was this?

"The rules are simple! Here at 'The last chance', everything is possible. In three exciting elimination rounds, our contestants will fight for the grand mystery prize. You, the audience will vote after each round who you like the least, and the one with the most votes has to leave, never to be seen again."

I decided I didn't like the humor of the host very much, but the explanation continued.

"Whoever survives the third round is the winner of tonight's show! They will receive the grand mystery prize"

He held up a sealed red envelope.

"And, of course, gets to go home."

It would probably have been funnier if I remembered how I got here. The charming host made it sound like we were kidnapped, but that was hardly possible, not on live TV. So, it was probably just a joke.

"But! How can you sway the audience to not vote you out, you ask? What is the game, you want to know? It's easy! In each round, each and every one of you gets a spin on our wheel of fortune. In addition, you will be dealt three cards. In every round, you must use whatever the wheel shows and one of your cards to *change* yourself and one other contestant of your choice. It doesn't matter who you choose for what, as long as one change applies to yourself and one to another one. And remember: All changes are always permanent!"

The host chuckled as if his last statement was especially funny. I didn't quite understand what 'changes' he meant, but the rest was pretty clear.

As soon as the host finished explaining, a gorgeous woman with a long flowing dress and a big deck of cards approached us. Her eyes sparkled, and her skin was smooth, and the long dress made it look like she had a tail under it. She gave every one of us contestants three cards. Mine read "Masculine", with a big blue mars symbol on it, "Submissive", depicting a figure looking down at their feet, and "Chubby", a pink pudgy figure.

After we had a moment to look at our cards, the host spoke up again.

"And without further ado, let's get started! This round begins with..."

The drum rolls in the background sounded very stereotypical.

"Victoria! Ladies first!"

With a fanfare, a big wheel of fortune was unveiled, and set into motion with one swift motion from Mr. Mephistolon. I couldn't make out what the labels on the wheel said until it slowed down and landed on the symbol of a large eggplant. It read "hung".

It had to be one of these late-night game shows with a sexual edge to it. I didn't feel very comfortable.

"Alright, Victoria! The wheel shows 'hung'. You need to choose one of your cards, and then apply both changes, one to you, and one to another contestant!"

The woman studied her cards carefully before choosing one. She held it up and smiled.

"Okay. I pick this card here for myself. It says: 'Big-Chested'. And I'll apply 'hung' to..."

She looked around her three male contestants before finally settling on me. "Evan!"

"Alright, a good choice, Victoria! Remember, the changes will apply after everyone has chosen. Let's continue with Lucas!"

The wheel spun and landed on the picture of a pink, hairless arm, which said "Smooth".

Lucas had looked into his cards up until here and scratched his head.

"Okay, so we're supposed to be nice to each other, right? Okay, so, I... Can I give both to the other guys?"

"I'm sorry Lucas, but the rules are that you have to change yourself as well!" The host smiled with endless professional patience.

"Oh, okay." The guy really wasn't all too bright.

"Then... I take 'smooth' for myself and give Victoria my 'Slim'. That works, right?"

"Yes, Lucas, that's possible! Great job!" The host cheered before looking at Blake and spinning the wheel. It finally settled on "Nerdy", adorned with a pair of glasses.

Blake's eyes darted between his cards and the rest of us. Finally, he decided.

"Okay, I don't think we're supposed to be nice to each other, here. At least, I only have rather negative cards. Since I have to play one on myself, I choose 'Dominant'". He held up a card showing a figure with held up high head and a broad stance.

"And the 'nerdy' from the wheel goes to... Lucas."

The audience murmured and the host nodded approvingly.

"It seems like you have understood pretty quickly! Alright! Let's get to our last one for this round. Evan!"

He set the wheel in motion, and I watched until it stopped at the picture of a broad chest, reading 'muscular'. I looked down on my cards. So, even if I didn't understand the whole 'change' part, it was obvious I should give positive things to myself and negative things to other people. The wheel showed 'muscular', which was obviously positive, and 'masculine' in my hand was positive as well. So, I needed to choose between 'submissive' and 'chubby'. The thought of the big bouncer having the 'submissive' card was pretty hilarious, so I decided on that.

"I'll take 'muscular' for myself and give my 'submissive' to Lucas." I announce.

"Great choices, all around. Alright. So, we get to the changes! Victoria, you got 'Big-Chested' from yourself, and 'slim' from Lucas. Let's see how you look like!"

Whatever I expected, it was not that. Before my very eyes, Victoria's modest breasts swelled until her blouse was bursting. Her body lost any excess fat, and her hips became narrower as well, forming a perfect hourglass shape. If I had been straight, I would have surely started to drool.

"Very nice! Now, let's see the guys. Lucas! You have your own 'smooth', and Blake's 'nerdy' as well as Evan's 'submissive'. Quite a lot, if you ask me!"

As expected, Lucas lost all body hair, except his head and face. Then, his eyebrows thinned out and his nose grew a bit more pronounced. I thought I heard the word 'sissy' being called from the audience. A thick pair of glasses snapped into existence, and his clothing shifted to an awkward, nerdy look. And something seemed to happen behind his eyes. Where before, he looked the host in the eye, he suddenly looked at his shoes.

"I'm sorry, master." He muttered.

"What was that, Lucas?" The host asked, smiling.

"I'm sorry, Master. I don't deserve to look into your eyes." Laughter from the audience.

Lucas was still pretty broad, but his new posture and clothing veiled that pretty well. He looked pathetic all in all.

"Alright, Lucas. Let's switch to Blake. Here, we have your own 'Dominant' and... That’s it! Your antagonists decided to go easy on you, as it seems."

The shift in Blake's demeanor was subtle. His body stayed the same, but his posture changed, as he spread his legs a bit wider and raised his shoulders. His facial expression shifted, and I was sure to see traces of cruelty or arrogance in it, now.

"Aaand, finally. Evan. 'Muscular' from yourself and 'hung' from Victoria. Seems like the other contestants like you, Evan!"

Victoria, the new, busty, Victoria leaned over and smiled as she whispered: "You're welcome."

Suddenly, my body felt tingly and weird all over. I watched in a mix of amazement and horror, as my muscles grew all over the place, quickly filling out my clothes that shifted subtly to make way for the new bulges.

The crowd cheered, and I looked at them for a moment. Then, I was distracted by a feeling in my groin. It took all my self-control not to check with my hands, but I could clearly see the bulge of my cock grow in my pants. I wasn't getting hard - although the feeling was pretty erotic - but my dick was just quickly gaining size, until the bulge was clearly visible through my pants now. I could even see the soft rod hanging down one leg and make out the shape of my balls. With my head red, I stepped closer to the lectern.

"That's all changes for round 1!" The host announced. "And it's time to say goodbye to one of our contestants now. Please, cast your vote."

While the audience voted, I looked around. Busty Victoria was probably pretty safe, as was I - I didn't have a mirror, but I must have looked pretty good. If the audience voted by looks - which I suspected - then it would either hit Blake or Lucas. Since Blake had changed the least, he was probably the most boring one, so I suspected he would be voted out.

It was Lucas, by a small margin.

"Well, then, Lucas! Here goes your 'Last Chance'!" The host smiled, a smile I would describe as cruel, and all of a sudden, a flame shot up where Lucas had been standing just a few moments ago. When the flame was gone, so was Lucas. Wow. That was either a pretty cool special effect or... No, it was a special effect.

As the host turned to Victoria again, I got the feeling this game show was more serious than I thought.

The wheel stopped at the word 'needy'. Victoria looked into her cards and whispered to me: "Let's work together this round."

Since the spot next to her was empty, I was the only one she could whisper to, even though I must have been the bigger threat in her eyes. Her plan was to concentrate on Blake this round and then eliminate me in the next.

"I give 'Needy' to Blake, and I'll take..." She flashed a smile to the audience. "'Big Behind'" The card showed the rather unsubtle outline of a large ass. Victoria was *dangerous*. She had adapted lightning fast and knew how to manipulate the audience.

Blake looked at her with contempt, possibly due to his new dominant demeanor, until the wheel stopped in front of him. It showed a naked male chest, heavily adorned with tattoos.

"Oookay. I take 'Tattooed' from the wheel for myself, and I play this card on Evan."

My heart sunk as he produced a card showing a naked figure that read 'Exhibitionistic'. Crap. The smile in Blake's face was cold. He, too, was dangerous. And from his announcement in the first round, I knew he had more negative cards in his hand.

"So, Evan, take your pick."

I hadn't even realized that the wheel had already stopped, and I looked at it quickly. It showed a pelt of hair on a breast and read 'hairy'. I quickly looked down on my cards. I had 'masculine' and 'chubby'. It was probably a good idea to keep chubby for the last round, so I had to play 'masculine'. The apparent solution was to play it on myself and give 'hairy' to Blake, if I wanted to do what Victoria suggested. However, hairy probably wouldn't hurt Blake much, and neither would 'masculine'. I could sacrifice my 'chubby', but then I'd probably lose the next round for sure. I pondered. No, Victoria was more dangerous. I could play 'hairy' on her... But wait! She was slim and busty, and she was about to give herself a big ass. Combined with hairy, that would be strange, but what if I took out her feminine advantage?

"I take 'hairy' for myself." I began. It didn't make much difference if I was hairy or not. "And I play 'masculine' on Victoria."

The audience went crazy as Victoria's transformation began. Her ass ballooned out, making her even more beautiful by heterosexual standards for a second. But that changed when her body shifted and crossed the gender boundary quickly. A bulge formed both in her throat and in her groin, and her clothes shifted to a masculine style. However, just as I had planned, she still had the other traits. Her - no, his - chest formed decidedly male but rather big man-tits, and his ass was fat. The rest of him, however, including the arms and legs, were thin and slim, looking decidedly grotesque on his male frame.

"I guess we should call you 'Victor' now" smiled the host before the attention shifted towards Blake.

"Let's see how Blake looks after his new changes: 'Tattooed' and 'Needy'".

Blake's skin quickly filled with ink, giving the man an even more dangerous aura. For a moment, I was afraid that Blake would get a stronger position due to his changes, but then, a loud moan came out of his mouth.

"Please! I need someone to..." he was confused as hell, I could see that, as his dominant and his needy side came to a weird compromise.

"... to order to fuck my hole. Please!"

The audience erupted in laughter, and even the host had to smile. It was pitiful.

"And now for Evan."

Crap, what were my changes again? I had completely forgotten that I was being changed as well.

"Let's give you... 'hairy' and 'exhibitionistic'!"

Fuck, and it was all negative. I looked down on my muscular body and I could see body hair growing in, all over my exposed arms and legs, even some in my face. However, the worst was yet to come.

My mind was filled with an overwhelming need. I *had* to show off my body. I *had* to put it on display for everyone to see. Accompanied by the laughter of the audience, I pulled off my shirt and exposed my furry, muscular chest for everyone to see. It felt good, but I wasn't finished. Next, the shoes, socks and pants came off. My underwear was filled to the brim with my large cock, and a thick bush of hair erupted from it as well. And my underwear got even tighter as I felt the rush of satisfaction it gave me to expose myself like that. I could stop now, I probably had enough self-control. However, I hesitated. It was all about the audience vote, right? Perhaps I had better chances if I played the role, to the end. So, I hooked both my thumbs into my strained boxer shorts and, with a quick motion, pulled them off, freeing the absolute python of my semi-hard cock. I even took a few steps back from my lectern, so everyone could see me in all of my hairy, muscular glory.

The audience went wild. With some satisfaction, I noticed that almost no one voted me out. Instead, most of the votes fell on Blake.

"So long, Blake!" said the host, and Blake, too, disappeared in a sudden flame.

"Seems like it's just Victor and Evan left. Let's see who survives this round and takes the grand mystery prize home! Let me spin the wheel for Victor!"

The wheel slowed down on the sweaty face emoticon. However, it didn't read 'sweaty', but instead 'horny'. Victor smiled and shot me an apologetic look.

"Sorry, big guy, but that's it for you. Let's see how needy you get. I choose 'horny' for Evan and for me... 'Charming'". The new man produced his last card, which showed a handsome prince. Crap. That was a good combination.

I looked down at my 'chubby' card, and only as the wheel stopped, I realized my mistake. I had kept the strongest negative card until the end, but I didn't anticipate that the wheel might *also* show something negative. I stared at the head-scratching figure on the wheel and the word below that. 'Dumb'. Shit.

What were my options? I could give myself chubby and Victor dumb. Perhaps, hopefully, chubby wouldn't look too bad on my muscled body, but it hardly mattered if Victor was dumb or not. Charme worked regardless of intelligence.

Then again, I could give Victor 'chubby', which would probably work well in making him even less attractive and grotesque. But that would mean I'd have to take 'dumb'. And all changes were permanent, the host had said so.

I thought back to the flame effect that had consumed Blake and Lucas. No, I had to win this, no matter the cost.

I forced a smile for the audience. "Perfect!" I exclaimed. "I'm big all over already, and hairy and naked. So, I'll gladly take the 'dumb' - make me a real himbo!"

I didn't want to be 'a real himbo', for sure, but it might still be better than the alternative. And it would fit into the 'horny' I was about to get.

"And Victor gets my last card: 'Chubby'!"

His eyes went wide, as he suddenly wasn't so sure of his victory anymore. And really, he immediately began to change. His thin body got softer and rounder, especially his stomach and butt. Even his man-tits grew even larger. However, at the same time, his face grew a well-groomed beard, and his eyes got a sparkle to it. Even though his form was bloated, he still looked nice enough. Fuck.

Then, all eyes went to me. I closed my eyes as Mr. Mephistolon announced my changes. 'Dumb' and 'Horny'. No bodily changes, thankfully. My body was still glorious and on full display. The first effect I felt was in my groin again. I grew hot and flustered, and my previously semi-hard cock quickly expanded into its full length, hard and throbbing, pointing directly ahead. That wasn't bad, I had to admit. As I was leaking precum on the floor, I enjoyed the attention of my body on display like that, and there was certainly a lot to see. But the next change hit my mind. My thoughts felt sluggish and slow. It was as if the gears in my head were covered in syrup or mud. Or that other thing, what was it... Cum, right. I had to grin dumbly. Yeah, my thoughts were slow as if they went through cum. That thought amused me and distracted me for longer than I would have been comfortable to admit before. But now, I just didn't care. When I opened my eyes again, all higher intellect was gone, and I was just happy for all the attention and was feeling horny. Well, I was always feeling horny, right? Automatically, my large right hand gripped my fuckstick and I started to slowly stroke it, while smearing precum into the pelt on my chest with the left one. The audience cheered.

"Alright, here are the final votes!", the host announced, ripping my attention momentarily from my own body.

"It seems like, with a *very* narrow margin, Victor has lost this round."

I looked at him quizzically. Was that good?

"That means Evan wins tonight's show!"

The audience went wild and clapped, and I felt happy. Apparently, I had done something right!

"Congratulations, Evan! Now, let's see what tonight's grand mystery prize is."

With a big gesture, the host opened the envelope and read out the contents.

"The winner - that's you, Evan - gets to transform the host freely, to his liking. Now that's something we haven't seen in this show for a long time!"

Even though that meant I was allowed to change him to my whim, Mr. Mephistolon didn't seem unhappy. Instead, he licked his lips.

"Go on then, Evan! What do you want to change about me?"

"Uhhh..."

I thought hard about it.

"Make you... Make you big. Big and... strong. But not as strong as me. More like lean, but sturdy. I still want to be the one to fuck you. And... uh, make you... Make you have big dick and big balls."

I was a bit confused about the last two points. My mind had trouble thinking, but I also had a big dick and big balls, and those were good, right? So, I wanted them for him, too.

"Alright, let's see what Evan gets."

I watched curiously as Mr. Mephistolon slowly began to change.

He gained muscles, but nothing like I had. He stayed rather thin, but his arms, chest and abs looked very nice. His feet grew, and lean muscle set in, making him able to withstand a lot of force when I would pound his hole, later. I could hardly wait and was stroking my cock again.

As expected, his cock and balls swelled, and grew hairy. He was not as hung as me, but that was probably good. After all, he wouldn't really need his cock, his ass was the important part.

After his transformation was finished, I saw him look at his new body and his cock, and then into the crowd, before his eyes landed on me.

"Well then, that's all for tonight, folks! I guess I'm going home with Evan now!"

And with the last round of applause, our surroundings shifted until I was in my apartment again. Still the same bull of a man, with my target right in front of me. I licked my lips as I approached the host. I would fuck him silly, that's for sure.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #female to male tf #dumbing down #hairy

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kyunghwannie · 2 months ago

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"When We Were Moonlight" (It's Coming Soon)

Nayeon, Momo, Jihyo, Chaeyoung x Male! Reader

Nayeon is the Main Lead, the other's are future leads.

You can find the series updates here

Genre: Romantic Drama | Mystery | Erotic | Angst | Polygamy

Teaser: He was no one special—quiet, unremarkable, the kind of man you'd pass by without a second glance. But laughter followed him, hearts warmed near him, and one day... so did she. Years later, under dim lights and behind a mask, he meets her again—only this time, she doesn't remember the boy who once held her whole world. fate brings them back together—under the strangest of circumstances. But this time, it’s not just her. What happens when forgotten love collides with desire, secrets, and a pact noone asked for?

Parts:

Part-1: The Girl Behind The Giggle

Part-2: Voice In The Mirror

Part-3: The Bride's Last Night

Part-4: She Forgot The Moonlight

Part-5: When She Saw The Moon

#twice #nayeon #momo #jihyo #chaeyoung #nayeon smut #momo smut #jihyo smut #twice chaeyoung #twice smut #twice x reader #twice x male reader

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depressed-bitch-80 · 2 months ago

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Not So Secret Anymore

Chapter 2

Word count: 1,003

Pairing: BBC!Sherlock x Reader

Summary: John is trying to enjoy a peaceful day at 221B when a mystery woman shows up and says she’s Sherlock’s wife.

A/N: This chapter is a little bit longer! Currently halfway through ch. 3. Let me know what you think!

Ao3 link, Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

It was approaching midnight when John heard the familiar sound of Sherlock’s wingtips trudging up the stairs. By this point John had time to sit and simmer with his newfound information about his flatmate. He wasn’t angry per say, just very confused. If Sherlock truly was married why did he feel the need to keep it from him? Was the woman lying and just looking for media attention? He didn’t know, but he was about to find out.

As calm as he could, so he wouldn’t cause any suspicion, he asked “How was your day?”

Sherlock merely glanced at him as he was hanging up his belstaff and scarf. “Boring. Utter waste of time. What at first glance seemed to be a promising case turned out to be just an unremarkable patricide.”

“Is that why you didn’t call me in?” John asked, curious.

“What? No. You had work today at the surgery.”

“That was yesterday, Sherlock and that doesn’t usually stop you. When was the last time you slept?” John was now more than slightly concerned about the well being of the obviously manic detective. He watched as Sherlock paced rapidly through the sitting room, not quite sure if he’d heard him. “Sherlock?”

Sherlock was started by the commanding voice. “Hmm?”

“When was the last time you slept?” John repeated, now getting a little frustrated. Sherlock looked at him like a child who had gotten caught stealing from the cookie jar, pure guilt.

“Well let’s see counting the power nap on the table it would be Tuesday. Do not worry, I have roughly 27 hours before my transport fails me.” Sherlock stated as matter-of-factly as he could.

“Tuesday? Sherlock, it's Friday!” John was now passing the point of concern to annoyance at the man’s utter disregard of self care. “Go to bed now. You will not push yourself any further, I’m not going to pick you up off the floor when you inevitably pass out from exhaustion.”

“Fine” Sherlock seethes “what is the point of these trivial needs?” He begins to begrudgingly make his way to his bedroom when he notices the extra cup of tea sitting on the desk, gone cold. “We had a client come in today.”

“We did.” John said. He had almost forgotten the reason he had stayed up to catch Sherlock returning.

“Details?” Sherlock asked, now mildly intrigued. John was trying to figure out how he could delicately bring up the situation he now found himself in.

“It was a woman trying to figure out why her husband has been so busy.” John was purposely keeping it vague at the moment for his own sanity but he could tell he was very rapidly losing Sherlock’s interest.

“Boring. Cheating, pass.”

“Wait, Sherlock, you need to hear this one.” Well he was just going to have to come out and say it, well at least in a way that Sherlock could deduce who he was talking about. “Apparently he’s been running around with his blogger, neglecting to call her, and get this the woman had a very peculiar name”

“John-“ Sherlock looked genuinely shocked, but John didn’t care as a wave of anger and betrayal rushed over him.

“No, I don't want to hear it. You’re what? Married? And you neglected to share that information with me this whole time we’ve known each other.” John was fuming. Sherlock had resumed his manic pacing of the sitting room. John somehow realized he wasn’t going to get the answers he really wanted tonight and forced himself to breathe and unclench his fists.

“John, where is she?”

“She left hours ago. She came here looking for you but I had no clue where you were per usual.” Sherlock was now digging out a phone from the desk drawer.

“Something has gone wrong. She’s not supposed to be back for twelve more days.” Sherlock said, frantically dialing numbers into what looked to be a burner phone.

“Sherlock, what are you talking about?” John was now confused as ever. Just to add to his confusion, he hears ringing coming from Sherlock's room. Sherlock quickly hangs up his phone.

They both stare at the open door in anticipation. Just as John was about to reach for his gun, also in the desk drawer, a figure came drifting down the hallway. Almost instantly when (Y/N) came into view, Sherlock’s features twisted into those of concern.

“Don’t worry I’m fine.” She reassured, only slightly believing herself.

“You’re not.” Sherlock said, taking ahold of both of her arms and leaning in to rest his forehead on hers. It was a quiet, intimate moment between two souls who had been apart for so long.

“Just some minor scratches, I’ll be fine.” She whispered, not wanting to put an inch more between them.

“Two lacerations to your abdomen, a broken rib, and a dislocated shoulder is hardly what I would categorize as fine.” He finally pulled away, vaguely aware that John was still in the room with them.

“The shoulder has been properly reset, the rib is merely fractured and it’s nothing more than a few flesh wounds my dear, nothing to worry about. Besides, I do believe we have an in-house doctor now.” Gesturing to John, who was now sitting on the sofa staring at them in bewilderment and feeling a little like a third wheel.

“Sorry but, you’ve been here this entire time?” John asked, trying desperately to get some clarification on the situation.

“Yes, I do live here.” She answered, trying not to sound too harsh. She knew her bedside manners could use some work.

“But how?” John asked. He had seen her leave out the front door and he hadn’t left the sitting room since. It didn’t make any sense to him how she could have made it all the way back up into the bedroom.

“You’ll find she’s very stealthy when she wants to be, she is MI6 after all.” Sherlock stated, looking at (Y/N) with pride. John was going to need a drink.

#bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes #john watson #fanfiction

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feinecutasy · 2 months ago

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Long Night

“ʟᴏɴɢ ɴɪɢʜᴛ”. The voice behind him stirred emotionlessly. The stranger was unremarkable in every aspect, a man who could, by the act of vanishing into the midst of a crowd, pop into and out of existence. Yet the mysterious allure of his voice chase away even the slightest thoughts of ignoring the words coming out of his mouth.

“Yeah”, Matt said. No amount of mental effort was spent when he replied to the man behind him. The sentence uttered by the mysterious figure had the character of a rhetorical question, even though in form it was a plain statement. The affirmation given by Matt had the opposite energy. There was only a very faint indication that its speaker was paying a crumb of attention to whomever was talking to him, such that the word may as well be replaced with a grunt. Matt was tired.

Matt glanced at the rearview mirror. “You have beautiful eyes”, his wife used to say. The same pair of eyes, void of liveliness, stared blankly at the highway behind drooping eyelids. It was clear that his eyebags would only get more bloated after this restless night. So much for the forty-first year spent on the planet. More suited to describe the number of wrinkles on his face than the number of birthday cakes he'd had.

“ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛ”, the stranger lamented.

Matt would love to agree, but the more he thought about it, the less convinced he was. So frivolous is the thing that is called language, it assigns to dead things quirky traits of the living. For time is a law of nature. It doesn’t judge. It has neither a face, nor a persona. It was the cruelty of mankind that had wreaked havoc on his face and body. It was also the cruelty of the concept named “Matt” to have accepted the former cruelty without ever once questioning it. The body was rebelling, yet the ego didn’t want to listen. Cold coffee sloshed around gently in the half-drunk cup, and explosive ‘90s rock blasted up the stale, conditioned air of the car. His favourite brand. His favourite band. There was no enjoyment, only the echo of a voice telling him to not fall asleep.

“ʏᴏᴜ ᴄʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ɪʟʟᴜꜱᴏʀʏ, ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪɴᴅ ʜᴀꜱ ᴀʟʀᴇᴀᴅʏ ꜱᴇᴇɴ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ”.

The man was boring more and more doubts into Matt’s brain with his statements. Matt glanced at the rearview mirror. “You have beautiful eyes”, his wife used to say. How he yearned to hear that same sentence again. Yet for all that he could imagine, the weary face of the woman he loved would scrunch up upon seeing him the next morning. It was already past mid-night; he had missed their anniversary. Business suit still on, with all the business cards from the conference, coated with the faint smell of fast food. The fresh, vibrant bouquet of flowers and neatly wrapped gifts sat silently on the rear seat, judging him for being the liar that he was. He had promised to come. He was coming. He didn’t forget. But why did the prospect of fulfilling this promise bring no more joy than letting it rot in oblivion? Why all this effort, when he already knew what lied ahead? The ugly faces, the apologising, the berating.

ɪᴛ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴛ ɢʀᴇᴇᴅ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛ, ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇꜱɪʀᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ʙᴇᴛᴛᴇʀ.

But what do I do? Matt thought. The publicity would be disastrous. The year-long legal process. Custody. Child support‒

ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ᴄᴀʀᴇ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ. ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ.

The empty, desolate road could not see through the windows that Matt was shaking. Not by the chilling cold breathed in and out by the cranked-up A/C. Not by any kind of medical emergency that might befall upon the healthy, though exhausted middle-aged entrepreneur.

ʏᴏᴜ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴄᴏɴᴠɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ, ᴍᴀᴛᴛ.

Matt felt tears welling up behind his eyes. He glanced at the rearview mirror. Glassy, wet blue eyes. He desired. Yearned. Thirsted. For the thing that he hadn’t felt in years. In decades.

The low hum of the engine became almost hypnotic. The headlights carved through tunnels, piercing the void of asphalt and darkness. The gloomy street lights left behind streaks of ethereal yellow, merging with the blurry, waving road signs. Forms got squashed into blobs, and shapes got crushed into lines. And the lines went on,

and on,

endlessly.

Until they collapsed.

Into one point.

---

The warmth of a Saturday’s morning greeted Matt as rays of sunlight shone through the car’s window. He softly groaned, his head spinning. His voice no longer carried with it the raspiness of a heavy smoker. The smell of cologne and leather mixed with someone else’s scent filled up the car. It smelled heavenly. The road continued to slide backwards, but Matt was no longer in the driver’s seat.

He felt lighter. In mind and in body. No more responsibilities. No more irritating voice telling him to stay awake. Gone was the certain dreariness of a bleak future. The soft fuzz of hair on his right arm glinted gold as they passed through a forest clearing. Youth had graced Matt’s body once more, manifesting itself in the form of raging hormones. He felt a heavier weight between his legs, not counting the natural reaction of his body that had already tented up his shorts. Energy was coursing through his body.

He looked to his left. Driving the car was a handsome young man with a deep, warm voice. He smiled at Matt, and said something. Something about his beautiful eyes. But Matt was too groggy and not in the right state of mind to make out what the man said. But it was not important. He felt like he could just ask the man later about it. He felt a link towards the man that he couldn’t explain. The only way he could verbalise it was that he could trust him.

But above all, he felt happy.

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #twinkification #reality change

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ghostflowerdreams · 2 months ago

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Lately, I’ve been diving into a lot of web novels and manhwa, mostly manhwa, with one manhua in the mix.

While they’re still fresh in my mind, I wanted to share the ones I really enjoyed and would happily recommend. For now, it’s just a list with no particular order, but I might write separate posts later to explain why I liked each one. Hopefully, I’ll find the time to write those posts and not forget or get distracted by something else.

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint

It is also known as Omniscient Reader (Korean: 전지적 독자 시점; RR: Jeonjijeok Dokja Sijeom) is a South Korean manhwa adapted from the web novel written by Sing Shong (싱숑), a pseudonym used by the married couple who co-authored the original novel. The manhwa adaptation is illustrated by Sleepy-C (슬리피-C) of Redice Studio.

As a struggling office worker, Kim Dokja leads an unremarkable life. His only solace lies in reading an obscure web novel, Three Ways to Survive the Apocalypse, which he has loyally followed as its sole reader for 13 years. The story follows Yoo Joonghyuk, a man doomed to endlessly regress through apocalyptic scenarios for the amusement of the Constellations—powerful beings that range from mythic heroes and great sages to ancient gods—and their dokkaebi intermediaries. When the novel finally ends, so does the world as Dokja knows it. Reality suddenly mirrors fiction as monstrous creatures descend, ordinary people gain powers, and they're forced into deadly “scenarios” lifted straight from the novel. But unlike anyone else, Dokja knows what’s coming next. With foreknowledge of the plot’s twists and turns, he becomes the only person capable of changing the story’s outcome. Now Dokja must go from passive reader to active player, rewriting fate, confronting impossible odds, and perhaps becoming the protagonist of a story that was never meant to be his.

SSS-Class Revival Hunter

It is also known as SSS-Class Suicide Hunter (Korean: SSS급 자살헌터; RR: SSS-geup Jugeoya Saneun Hunter) is a South Korean manhwa adapted from the web novel written by Shin Noah (신노아), with illustrations by Bill K.

Some people are born lucky—blessed with fame, power, and fortune as if the Tower itself had chosen them. Kim Gong-Ja, a powerless F-Class hunter with no skills to his name, is not one of them. While others rise as heroes within the mysterious, monster-filled Tower, he is left behind, watching from the shadows and envying the star hunter known as the Flame Emperor. Everything changes when Gong-Ja is granted a rare S-Class ability: the power to copy another person’s skill. The catch? He can only do it after they kill him. Thrown headfirst into a deadly encounter with the Flame Emperor himself, Gong-Ja dies, only to awaken again with a second new skill and the shocking truth about the man he once idolized. With the power to rewind time by 24 hours, he hatches a bold plan: travel 11 years into the past and stop the Flame Emperor before he rises to power.

The S-Ranks That I Raised

It is also known as My S-Class Hunters (Korean: 내가 키운 S급들; RR: Naega Kiun S-Geupdeul), is a South Korean manhwa adapted by seri from the original web novel written by Geunseo, with illustrations by biwan.

After the tragic death of their parents, Han Yoojin devoted his life to raising his younger brother, Han Yoohyun. But in a world resembling modern-day Korea, the sudden appearance of dungeons and monstrous invaders forces humanity to adapt—becoming Awakened Hunters to survive. When a dungeon suddenly appears near Yoohyun’s route to school, he awakens as an extraordinary S-rank Hunter. From that point on, the brothers are driven down separate paths. Yoohyun rises to power, eventually founding one of Korea’s most powerful guilds, Haeyeon, while Yoojin is left behind. Eight years later, Yoojin finally Awakens, but to his dismay, he is classified as an unremarkable F-rank Hunter. During what should have been a routine D-rank dungeon raid, a freak appearance of a Tier 1 monster wipes out the entire party and leaving Yoojin the sole survivor. Trapped inside, unable to escape until the monster is defeated or he's dead, Yoojin watches helplessly as Yoohyun arrives to save him—only to die in his arms. Devastated, Yoojin manages to defeat the monster and is offered a single wish. Without hesitation, he chooses the one thing he wants most: to return to a time before his brother’s death. When he awakens in the past with all his memories intact, he is determined to reconcile with Yoohyun and live a quiet, peaceful life. But fate has other plans. His second Awakening grants him mysterious new abilities, and though he remains an F-rank on paper, Yoojin quickly finds himself surrounded by powerful allies and entangled in a dangerous plot that threatens the world itself.

Trash of the Count’s Family

It is also known as Lout of Count's Family (Korean: 백작가의 망나니가 되었다; RR: Baekjakga-ui Mangnani-ga Doeeotda), is a South Korean manhwa adapted from the web novel written by Yoo Ryeo Han (유려한), with illustrations by PAN4.

After falling asleep while reading the fantasy novel Birth of a Hero, Kim Rok Soo wakes up inside the story—as Cale Henituse, a minor noble infamous for one thing: getting brutally beaten by the protagonist, Choi Han. In the novel, Choi Han loses everything, plunges into despair, and begins his heroic journey by delivering a well-deserved thrashing to Cale, a drunken, good-for-nothing noble. But Rok Soo has no intention of following that script. Armed with knowledge of the novel’s events and the resources of his new identity, he vows to change his fate, avoid conflict, and live a quiet, carefree life surrounded by wealth and comfort. Unfortunately, staying out of the spotlight is easier said than done. With ancient powers, dark forces stirring, and his every step unintentionally altering the plot, Cale may find himself in the middle of a much bigger adventure than he bargained for—all while desperately trying to live a peaceful, luxurious life.

The Extra's Academy Survive Guide

It is also known as How to Survive at the Academy (Korean: 아카데미에서 살아남기; RR: Akademieseo Saranamgi), is a South Korean manhwa adapted by GREEN KYRIN from the original web novel written by Corita.

Ed Rothstaylor is a third-rate villain in a fantasy game, disowned by his family, kicked out of the dorms for his misdeeds, and destined to fade into obscurity. But one day, the main character wakes up in Ed’s body and quickly realizes that if he wants a peaceful, stable future, he’ll need to earn a scholarship and make it to graduation. Now living in the woods and trying to stay far away from the main cast, he plans to keep a low profile. Unfortunately, four of the game’s female leads seem determined to get involved with him and to make things worse, his actions are starting to shift the timeline and alter the story’s original path. Can Ed keep the plot from derailing entirely while staying out of the spotlight?

The Greatest Estate Developer

It is also known as The Greatest Estate Designer (Korean: 역대급 영지 설계사; RR: Yeokdaegeum Yeongji Seolgyesa) is a South Korean manhwa adapted by Lee Hyunmin from the original web novel written by BK_Moon (문백경), with illustrations by Kim Hyunsoo.

Civil engineering student Kim Suho falls asleep reading a fantasy novel—only to wake up as Lloyd Frontera, the good-for-nothing noble whose family is drowning in debt. Known for his laziness, drinking, and thuggish behavior, Lloyd is destined for ruin while the novel’s true hero, knight-in-training Javier Asrahan, rises to greatness. But Suho isn’t about to accept that fate. Equipped with modern engineering knowledge and magical construction skills, he sets out to repair Lloyd’s tarnished reputation—not through heroics, but by rebuilding the world around him. Introducing innovative infrastructure and urban development to the medieval setting, he drastically improves the quality of life for its people—all while turning a tidy profit.

Surviving the Game as a Barbarian

Surviving the Game as a Barbarian (Korean: 게임 속 바바리안으로 살아남기; RR: Geim Sok Babarianeuro Saranamgi) is a South Korean manhwa adapted by Han Tae-su from the original web novel by Jung Yoon-kang, with illustrations by MIDNIGHT Studio.

After nine grueling years playing Dungeon and Stone—a brutal RPG no one has ever cleared—Hansoo Lee finally reaches the final boss room. But just as victory seems within reach, he receives a notification that he has completed the tutorial. In the blink of an eye, Hansoo finds himself inhabiting the body of Bjorn Jandel, a real barbarian in the game’s harsh, unforgiving world. Now trapped in a reality where death is permanent and failure means execution, Hansoo must navigate a ruined world where only one city remains, its survival dependent on monthly expeditions into a deadly labyrinth. Barbarians like Bjorn are considered little more than muscle, and players like him who are discovered to be possessing their characters are labeled “evil spirits” and killed on sight. Armed with nine years of in-depth knowledge and a barbarian’s brute strength, Hansoo must fight, adapt, and outwit this merciless world to survive. His only option? Conquer the labyrinth and hope it doesn’t conquer him first.

Pick Me Up

It is also known as Pick Me Up! Infinite Gacha (Korean: 픽 미 업!; RR: Pik Mi Eop!), a South Korean manhwa adapted by nicesun (REDICE Studio) from the web novel by Hermod, with illustrations by WASAK BASAK.

In the brutal world of Pick Me Up, a notoriously difficult mobile gacha game, 1-star heroes are nothing more than disposable tools—fodder to learn boss mechanics before real heroes take the stage. That’s what Han Seojin, a top-tier player ranked 5th globally under the alias "Loki," believed until everything changes. During a raid, a strange bug causes him to lose consciousness, and when he wakes up, he finds himself inside the game... as Han Islat, a level 1, 1-star hero. Trapped in the lowest tier of a game he once dominated, Seojin now faces the ultimate challenge: climb from the bottom of the ranks, rally a team of underdogs, and conquer the dungeon’s 100th floor to return home. But to do that, he’ll have to outwit the newbie player known to the in-game characters as “Master”—the one now controlling him and treating them all as disposable pawns.

The Knight Only Lives Today

It is also known as Eternally Regressing Knight (Korean: 오늘만 사는 기사; RR: Oneulman Saneun Gisa), a South Korean manhwa adapted by Lee Hyun-Min and Ganara from the original web novel written by Soulpung, with illustrations by Ian.

Enkrid was called a genius once, but the praise turned bitter as he grew older and his dream of becoming a knight slipped further from reach. Mocked for his lack of talent and urged to give up, he refused to let go. He trained harder, slept less, and pushed his body beyond its limits. Still, it wasn’t enough. One day, he died—stabbed through the neck in a hopeless fight. Then he woke up. Back at the start of that same day. Now trapped in a mysterious loop, Enkrid finds himself with unlimited chances to train, fight, and fail—and to learn from every mistake. With death no longer the end, how far can a dream take him when time itself becomes his greatest weapon?

The Top Dungeon Farmer

It is also known as Solo Farming in the Tower (Korean: 나 혼자 탑에서 농사; RR: Na Honja Tapeseo Nongsa), a South Korean manhwa adapted by Lim Hyeong from the original web novel written by sdcknight, with illustrations by Lee Ha Kyung.

When a mysterious black tower appeared in Seoul, people called it a dungeon—a perilous place filled with monsters, varied terrain, and unimaginable treasures. For many, it was a battleground. For Sejun, an ordinary underdog, it was supposed to be his big break. So when a black portal from the Tower appeared before him, he didn’t hesitate. He jumped in. He expected to land on the first floor, just like the stories he had heard from the first Awakened, where they were given a choice between the warrior or mage class. Instead, he found himself stranded on an uncharted floor of the Tower. His grand ambitions quickly shifted to a far simpler goal: staying alive. With only a few items from a grocery run and his bare hands, he turned to the most unlikely solution in a deadly dungeon: farming—specifically, growing cherry tomatoes and green onions. What began as a desperate attempt to live another day soon turned into a thriving livelihood. With optimism, quick thinking, and the help of a few loyal, furry companions, Sejun transformed his dangerous, isolated corner of the dungeon into a surprisingly profitable oasis.

The Sichuan Tang Clan’s Entomologist

It is also known as Entomologist in Sichuan Tang Clan, Fabre in Sichuan’s Tang Family and The Poison Master of Sacheondang Clan (Chinese: 파브르 in 사천당가; RR: Pabeureu in Sacheondangga), a Chinese manhua adapted from the original web novel written by Erhuhu, with illustrations by Kraken.

Fabre, a popular streamer with millions of followers, is known for his specializing in poisonous insects and daring encounters with venomous creatures. During a live stream in Africa, he’s bitten by a black mamba, dies, and to his shock awakens in Murim—a mystical world steeped in martial arts, ancient clans, and fantastical beasts. There, he settles into a quiet life in an abandoned Daoist temple nestled in the mountains, happily cultivating a variety of poisonous species. But his peace is interrupted when members of the Tang Clan—a famed martial arts sect known for their mastery of poison and stealth weapons—arrive seeking shelter from the rain. When Fabre helps them track down the elusive Blue-spotted Centipede using his modern expertise, they're intrigued by his potential and extend an invitation for him to join their family.

Dungeon Reset

Dungeon Reset (Korean: 던전 리셋; RR: Deonjeon Riset), a South Korean manhwa adapted by Ant Studio, based on the original web novel written by Daul.

Jeong Dawoon’s ordinary life is upended when he and 100 other people are suddenly transported into another world. Each player is granted a super-powered Skill and a starting weapon, but Dawoon is given only a nearly useless 'Purification' Skill and a tiny knife. Forced to play a brutal game orchestrated by a cruel, rabbit-shaped Guide, they must battle monsters, navigate dangerous traps, and survive in a hostile world of magic and malevolent forces. Despite his weak starting point, Dawoon survives Level 1 by joining forces with a group led by the charismatic Ryu Seung-Woo. However, just before reaching the boss, he falls into a trap and survives only thanks to a glitchy reset, which grants him strange but surprisingly useful new abilities. With a bloodthirsty assistant and a surprisingly adorable squirrel by his side, he must get creative to clear each dungeon area and find a way back home.

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quirkwizard · 4 months ago

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New Leaf

So I recently realized I've never talked about a lot of the League as heroes. Now I really wanted to talk about it. Though for now, it will be in a short list of general summary of them. And if any of you want me to go more in depth with how I think the some of these villains would be as heroes, like what I did with Twice and Dabi, you're more then welcome to ask.

Magne-The Pole Hero, Flux: Flux was never the most notable hero in any regards, yet was always there whenever needed, constantly changing the flow of a fight with powerful magnetic pushes and pulls.

Moonfish-The Devouring Hero, Sawtooth: A bizarre, silent hero that never fails to scared anyone that sees him. Both villain and civilian alike. In spite of this bizarre persona, he remains one of the most prominent heroes in the field of rescue work.

Giran-The Forgetful Hero, Mindful: Mindful was an underground hero if there ever was one. He'd go deep undercover, finding any and all connections between members of the underworld. And if anything went wrong, he'd always had his Quirk to bail him out.

Mustard-The Small Box Hero, Gaseous: A controversial figure thanks to his dangerous ability, Gaseous' was rarely deployed to do any major hero work. Yet when he was used, it was to great effect, able to take out whole gangs of villains without even a single punch thrown.

Muscular-The Shredded Hero, Strongman: A hero who just wants to fight. Something he did with great proficney and greater brutality. He was known to be just as tough on his sidekicks, pushing them harder and harder until they became the pinnacle of the heroes they were meant to be.

Kurogiri-The Overcast Hero, Dark Cloud: A dark and mysterious figure of a man. Nobody knew who he was or where he came from. Only that he served as mission control for heroes everywhere, making sure that the exact hero was right where they needed to be to help the most people.

Mr. Compress-The Spectacular Hero, Marbolous: A hero that was more celebrity then anything, eating up all the attention with his big personality. Yet in spite of his big personality, there hid a figure far more clever then anyone would expect, constantly outsmarting any villain that interrupted him.

Spinner-The Climbing Hero, Scaler: A generally unremarkable hero, Scaler seemed regulated to minor issues beneath most heroes. However, his endearing drive for heroics, his underdog status, and overall relatability has made him a fan favorite figure among hero diehard nerds and certain mutants.

Toga-The Imitation Hero, Youngblood: A seemingly average girl and figure you'd never recognize on the street. Youngblood was the go to girl for any and all infiltration work. Work she did with great tack and proficiency. Yet she'd never be far from a rescue situation, saving someone by transfusing their own blood.

Dabi-The Ignited Hero, Prodigy: In spite of his early issues in life, Toya became spitting image of his father. A bright, powerful flame that refused to give in and die no matter what villain came his way. Hands down the biggest heartthrob within the hero world, only rivaled by Hawks.

Double-The Friendly Hero, Twofold: On the surface, Twofold was an goofy, but harmless guy, always ready to make someone happy. Underneath was one of the most valuable assests to the heroes' side, promising that a horde of heroes would be around to save you no matter what.

Tomura-The Dust Hero, Breakthrough: A boy born from a dark past. A lost cause that was saved by a hero. Now, he lives out his childhood dreams to be a hero. He would right straight into the most dangerous of accidents and rescue situations, desperate to help and to destroy any debris in his path.

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cenorii · 1 year ago

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Wesker: personality

This is my psychological analysis of the character, which includes important details of the story, an analysis of the decisions they made and the concept of the phenomenon of «Guiding Fear». Contains spoilers!

Even if you know lore 100%, you will be able to learn something new from my thoughts

I did this to practice analyzing personalities and reliably prescribe my own characters.

[These are all my personal reflections that I have been accumulating and analyzing for six months. You can see the same analysis with Chris here. In Wesker's case, I dispel the myths that he is evil-evil and crazy, it's not that trivial here... Thanks to everyone who reads this, I really appreciate it and it's nice to know that my thoughts are of interest to someone!]

The most difficult subject of all. An attempt to embrace the immensity. He is infantile and the desire to prove this quality forced me to write such a huge article.

Wesker embodies the fear of losing himself, the anxiety of being someone he is not. He knows nothing about himself from the beginning, neither his Spencer-prescribed destiny nor his real name. As he tries to resist and exercise his individuality, he is eventually confronted with the truth that his every move has been pre-planned, never answering the questions: where are his own decisions? Where is he himself? What is really his?

I chose this fear for Wesker for a reason. The fear of losing himself can cause a person to purposely distance himself from others and not allow anyone to get close to him. He strives to shield himself from everyone, and we can observe this in his desire to be alone. Outwardly, such a person may appear indifferent and cold, even indifferent, so as not to give away to others (and to himself) his true feelings and needs. Wesker believes that it is right not to show anyone that something matters to him, otherwise he will develop weaknesses. After all, what people hold dear can be manipulated. And he doesn't want anyone to have control over him. He hates being controlled, so his surroundings know the bare minimum of information about him.

Who's Spencer? One of the founders of Umbrella, to put it succinctly. A man who is obsessed with identical mansions and mysteries and immortality and creating «perfect humanity». Rich and powerful.

But let's get to Wesker's story. A lot of things happened to him in his 48 years of life.

First of all, I want to point out that at an early age he was taken from a family that Spencer believed had a unique combination of intelligence and genes. But he wasn't the only one who was treated this way as part of «project W» (the experiment to create the perfect human). There were hundreds of children who were later given the surname Wesker. Until their adulthood, they received the best education, living in a boarding school (presumably), and were selected to be the best.

The children, being a blank slate, absorbed Spencer's teaching, being brought up according to his ideals. Their lives were pre-scripted, every step of the way. Those who were unremarkable were weeded out. Competition, anxiety. The lack of a normal childhood could breed a fear of losing oneself in every Wesker, for life was controlled. Personal boundaries and choices were absent, Spencer's worldview was pounded into everyone's head. Children were also distorted with notions of right and wrong, forced to be emotionally detached from a non-ideal world. This upbringing has produced people who have no empathy for others, empty machines with no personality of their own, ready to perform perfectly in any job in which they find themselves successful. They see the world through Spencer's eyes, but not their own.

In the end the best were 13 people, where number 12 was Alex Wesker and number 13 was Albert, the one in question. Someone who really always wanted to see the world with his own eyes, wanted to transcend.

The 13 candidates, following Spencer's plan, had to mature before moving on to the final stage of project W - injecting themselves with a special prototype virus. The power that this virus can bestow is so great that an immature individual, according to Spencer, has no right to possess it. In theory, this virus should improve a person, make him perfect, but in fact it turned out to be very selective and killed 11 candidates out of 13. Only Alex and Albert survived. Alex didn't gain any strength, because at the time of the injection she was sick, and the virus cannot improve a weak organism. But her half-brother was lucky, and the virus endowed him with all possible positive properties, changing his body and turning him into an almost immortal creature, looking completely like a human. That is, outwardly, except for the color of his eyes, nothing had changed in him. At the time of the injection, they were both 38.

I don't believe in theory that he lost his «humanity» due to mutation. On the contrary, he was never «human» in the classical sense of the word. He, like the others, was raised not to show empathy for others and was indoctrinated to believe that he was superior. Wesker had not changed, but because of his newfound freedom, he was no longer constrained by the limits Spencer's upbringing had placed on him.

When Wesker was 18, he was sent to the «Umbrella Executive Training School» with his future friend William Birkin, who was 16. They were research associates. As one could guess, the stress didn't end with his childhood, it coexisted with it. Following the text from his report, Wesker continued to feel like a mere toy in the hands of Umbrella, and further in the hands of Spencer, he literally raved in every paragraph about the old man. And to get out of this state was impossible from his words.

He and Birkin were led to Lisa Trevor, a subject who had been physically and psychologically abused in this School for many years. The horrible picture that opened before them, gave Wesker confidence that he could be in her place if he did his job badly. But he had no idea that he'd always been there, that every stage of his life was Spencer's experiment, just not as ugly.

Wesker wrote in his report: «We had two choices: succeed in our research... or lie here and rot like her. Thus we had only one option. This woman tied to a pipe touched something in our minds»

These thoughts are literally a revelation of his subconscious fear that has haunted him since childhood. A manifestation of humanity.

When Wesker entered this School, he felt freedom and saw the horrors of science for the first time. Perhaps a turning point in his life, for in order not to lose that little freedom, and his life, he had to do as he was told. Had to adjust and ignore the rationalism screaming inside. Working there greatly affected Birkin and Wesker, but Wesker had to transfer elsewhere to get more information about Spencer and also because of the realization that he had reached his research limit. When Birkin started studying the G-virus, Wesker realized that it was beyond his knowledge. Although he was good at science, he didn't want to do it all the time, he wasn't looking to improve his skills and knowledge, reaching for something else, as if trying everywhere, trying to find his place.

Close to the age of 38, Wesker gets a job in a special police unit as Captain of the S.T.A.R.S. Squad and a double agent. But he was already then pursuing a personal goal and found himself a triple agent. His goal was not simply to test bioweapons on members of his squad, as the assignment stated, but to escape with the results to another organization. The only way to break free from the influence of Umbrella, which is why he gave up his best people so easily.

It's unclear why he planted supplies on Chris in a difficult moment and helped him in every way he could if the trial was supposed to go «natural». Perhaps he wanted Chris to 100% make it to the final trial, but Chris was doing fine without it. Maintained the image of the captain? Game rules? Anything is possible. I'll use the code word «WX» to note this behavior, because I'll come back to this topic a few more times. «WX» stands for Wesker's penchant for actions that do not conform to his basic behavior, including helping others that does not bring him any personal benefit or benefit. In other words, good without any reason.

At the mansion, Chris and Jill get rid of the bioweapons in their path and make their way to the lab, where they catch Wesker off guard. There are 12 endings in the game, but only the one where Wesker is stabbed in the stomach by the Tyrant is canonical, as that is the ending depicted in Umbrella Chronicles, where the story is told on his behalf.

He survives by regenerating from a pre-injected prototype virus, but it's unclear if his death was part of the plan. His first report states that Wesker planned his temporary death from the Tyrant, but in subsequent retellings of this moment, I began to question how relevant this report was. His reaction and facial emotion shown in the re1 remake described surprise. But he couldn't be faking it at that moment, because he already had his back turned to Jill and Chris. Considering the way Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles describes his death, it seems like he really didn't expect this. Something didn't go according to plan. He didn't plan for this kind of trauma to activate the virus within him.

The point about the prototype virus is also worth mentioning. Birkin, on Spencer's orders, misled Wesker by telling him that this substance was developed specifically for him. That is, Wesker did not know the truth and details about having a huge probability of simply dying from the injection. Judging by the information in the notes, if Wesker had not injected it into himself, the virus would have entered his body in some other way, it was inevitable. The remaining 12 Weskers were injected with the virus, some by force, some at the request of a friend, and some under the guise of vaccination.

Let's take it a little further. Wesker was declared dead and moved on to another organization. Now his plan was to get rid of the sinking ship that is Umbrella. But why was he so intent on destroying it? It could have been a personal vendetta, after all, it was Umbrella that had manipulated his life and taken away his freedom. It was also a way to prove to his new organization that he was worth something.

By executing his plan, he inadvertently helped Chris and Jill, who were seeking the same thing. I'd call it «WX», but since he was pursuing a personal goal for his own benefit, it's 50\50.

Then in re4 he gives Ada the task finds the amber with the parasite Plaga. Considering that Wesker moves quietly around the island in the remake, it's odd that he didn't get that amber himself. With the power and speed from the virus, he took it all on the shoulders of one Ada, who was also infected during the mission, which only wasted his time. Didn't want to get his hands dirty? Maybe. But if he had gotten them dirty, the mission would have been completed faster, and isn't that a tactical advantage?

In the remake, he manifests «WX» (DLC Separate Ways) when he shows up at just the right moment for Ada and saves her from the ganados. After likely killing them with a gun, he takes a passed out Ada to Mendez's bedside, where he gives her a temporary recovery shot (or draws her blood?) But you know what's even weirder? He purposely chose a comfortable place for Ada, rather than laying her down on the ground somewhere. He was also there with her the entire time she was lying unconscious. I'd put an exclamation point on that weirdness, because... why? First of all, why did he save her when he could have continued the mission in her place? Recall Code Veronica, there Wesker arrived on the island with his HCF squad, but then we find his soldiers infected. He showed no concern for them and actually continued the mission on his own. Second, why did he keep sitting there? To scold and pathos leave?

He envisioned the option of Ada's possible betrayal and later stole Krauser's body, from which he had already extracted the Plaga sample, but he saved her anyway. Why? All of Ada's subsequent tasks on the island he could also have accomplished on his own and much faster. It's not like he was very busy if he allowed himself to sit with a sleeping Ada. The next meeting with Ada takes place on the elevation. Wesker brings her a case, pointing a gun at her. What is this gesture for? I don't think he sees her as a threat. Maybe it's a way to lend weight to his words, but doesn't he consider his authority absolute? He's a much bigger threat than the gun in his hand, so it's an odd action that makes him seem insecure.

After Ada's betrayal, one of Wesker's allies informs him that her helicopter can be attacked, but he refuses, calling it her "little act of defiance". Thus, he gives someone the Plaga sample she stole, and also spares Ada herself. It's «WX», though he could have gotten rid of two problems at once - the traitor and the competition.

We are now transported to the future, in the DLC for Re5 – «Lost in Nightmares». Here's where the fun begins.

DLC reveals to us that something has been bothering Wesker all his life, and that something is a subconscious manipulation that has been psychologically programmed into every Wesker. The so-called «Spencer's presence». It was a defense mechanism that constantly caused a sense of anxiety and a desire to seek out Spencer, to obey him. But this defense stopped working as soon as the old man met his prodigal son and told him everything. Wesker learned from him the whole truth about himself and about «project W», that his whole life had been manufactured. Then the defenses in his head were destroyed and he quietly killed Spencer, appropriating his dream for himself. He failed to deal with the realization of the truth, taking his dream of becoming God and creating a perfect humanity. An infantile fantasy of an unjust world that needed to be changed to fit his ideals.

In that moment, he faced his fear head-on. There she was - the cause of his fears, the person who had gotten into the depths of his mind, into his innermost being. Spencer. And now this old man was lying bloody on the floor. Perhaps Wesker should have been relieved and finally started living the life he wanted, not this old man. But he had taken Spencer's dream for himself, thus, once again acting against his will. In doing so, he didn't walk away from the problem, but exacerbated it without even realizing it. Wesker must have guessed that he had some problems, but his inflated ego that prevented him from thinking about it, screaming that he couldn't have any flaws. The problem became a hole that he tries to fill with things like this.

Whereas other characters conquer their fears by facing them, Wesker drowned in them, unwilling to change anything. His entire personality was built on the horror of losing himself, and when he found out that he basically had no self all his life, he lost his mind. He decided, since this world was unfair to him, then he needed to completely rewrite it and turn it into his own utopia, in which he would be whoever he wanted, untouchable, whom no one would point out and control.

However, thanks to the re4r (DLC Separate Ways), we now know that similar thoughts haunted Wesker even before he met Spencer. His desire to change people and start a new era he expresses after the credits. With this, the writers patched a few plot holes that appeared after re5. Now Wesker sounds like he didn't assign Spencer's goals to himself, but even before meeting him, he decided on a vision based on his upbringing.

Unfortunately, there is a long known scripting problem re5, because Wesker was not planned as a character who will survive the events of this game, so his motivation sounds stereotypical and stupid, because his plan and should not have been realized. Must be in the remake they will fix this flaw, because the beginning has already been made. His moment of frustration after killing Spencer is interrupted by Chris and Jill coming up. Consumed by rage, Wesker is seriously trying to kill Chris this time, or he was playing with him again, knowing that he would not oppose him. After saving her partner from death, Jill pushes Wesker out the window, falling down onto the rocks with him. After falling off a cliff, Wesker obviously survives, but also saves Jill. Why not just leave her to die? Why treat her and then plan to make her a test subject? Aren't there other healthy people out there? Stupid and empty revenge is not in his character. This is just another manifestation of «WX» and his obsessive desire to cling to the past.

I don't have much to say about re5, because Wesker died there, or we were made to think so. The only thing I will mention is his unhealthy attitude towards Chris. He displays it at every chance he gets. The notes about Wesker in Umbrella Chronicles state «As a spy he held the concurrent post of S.T.A.R.S. Captain and has been impressed by Chris' combat abilities since then», and during the events of Umbrella Chronicles, Wesker said the phrase «Chris, it appears our fates are forever intertwined». In the re1 remake and Code Veronica, he openly stated that Chris was «his best man» in a sort of unobtrusive admiration. It's no longer possible to perceive Redfield as separate from Wesker.

Each time he points a gun at him, Wesker never takes a shot on target. In the battle on the airplane, he points the gun at Chris without even putting his finger on the trigger. Such a good opportunity to kill him, to get rid of the enemy for good, and he just stands there holding a gun he's not even going to use. Just take the shot and it's over, but no, he's standing there babbling on as if it's actually that much more important to him. It's like Wesker was looking for an opportunity to vent to the very person from his past. It's reminiscent of the moment he pointed the gun at Ada. It's like he was trying to add weight to his words, to show the importance of what he was doing.

In Code Veronica, he decided to play with Chris instead of killing him. So many opportunities were missed, as if he couldn't physically hurt «his best man». Chris is Wesker's only drop of common sense. If he was sure of what he was doing, and also sure of himself, he wouldn't have left Chris any chance of survival. He would have killed Redfield at the first opportunity, but he stands there every time and doubts what he's doing. Chris is a kind of controlling element to him that constantly makes him hesitate.

And this strange hatred for Chris also raises questions. Maybe he hates him because he was jealous of what he owned? Something that cannot be obtained with money. Support, understanding, the love of a sister and close people, trust. Wesker compulsively convinced himself that he was not made for such things, for even having a sister, they did not possess affection. From the beginning he had no friends and his only companion was Birkin, though their relationship could hardly be called a normal friendship. He had no family or loved ones, and the only support he received came from «patrons» who were actually agents of Spencer and Umbrella. Seeing the Redfields supporting each other in difficult moments, being heroic, Wesker truly realized that he would never do the same. He has no people he holds dear, nor does he have those who hold him dear. There are no irreplaceable people in his worldview, but this connection between Redfields is probably beyond his comprehension. It's a simple human problem, which is why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left. He's miserable and drowning in his own despair.

While interacting with Chris on the volcano, Wesker first reveals his idealistic, infantile nature, naively dreaming of a better world without war and disease. Losing control of his powers and realizing that he will not defeat Chris in such a state, he decides to overdose himself with Ouroboros, which in the end does not make him stronger at all, but only slows him down, making him drown not only in weakness, but also in his own uncontrollable anger and frustration. Events are moving too quickly and so it can be assumed that his words here are not addressed to Chris, but to himself. After all, in the last battle he claimed to be «saving the world» and now he wonders «is it worth saving?» He dies without knowing the answer.

«However, there is no point in power if it consumes itself» his phrase, well suited to the situation at hand.

Btw, in the original idea, the moment before he died, his eye color would become natural, showing despair and horror. An interesting idea that was discarded.

I would also like to parse his phrases: «Only those with superior DNA will be chosen by Uroboros. Only those fit for survival will be allowed to carry their genes into a new age!» Also, «I don't need anyone else. I have Uroboros!»

Wesker is more aware of how the world works than anyone else. Corruption, betrayal, human vice and filth. He had to participate in it to achieve his goal, had to go through a lot of disgusting people for the sake of getting benefits, himself to sink to their level. Seeing this, he has become disillusioned with people, so he wishes they would disappear, giving way to someone more «worthy» of life. He also renounces everyone, entrusting his fate to his creation, desperate to gain understanding.

His life was cut short at the age of 48 (2009) in a volcano, but that's according to official reports. In theory Wesker and his possible clone are alive now, which we could learn from Umbrella Corps. But I'm not going to tell you about it here.

I failed to mention that at 32, Wesker had a relationship with a woman named Muller. Strangely, she was still alive afterward and had a good opinion of him. Although it would seem that with such a personality it should be the other way around.

She ended up pregnant, and now, as of 2021 in the re8 storyline, their son is 29 years old. I can understand why she might not have informed Wesker about the son, because first of all he might not have approved and made her get rid of him, and secondly she might have lost the ability to contact him, since he was working in secret. But the fact that she kept the baby speaks volumes. That the man she broke up with is genuinely pleasant to her. I mean, if he'd been the way he was at the time of his death, it's unlikely she would have kept the baby. Often victims of violence/abuse get rid of their children, no one wants a child from a tyrant. That's the side of this character that we don't know anything about.

It's hard to imagine how a person who has a fear of losing himself and who distances himself from others has managed to find a short-term relationship at all.

What about his personality? There's a double bottom here.

It's ambiguous. At first you see a stereotypical villain and then a psycho who wants to «save the world» by destroying it, a standard hackneyed scheme, nothing interesting.

But if you look closely, we see a simple man on the verge of despair. With his past behind him, he cannot give up everything and live the way he likes, because he is superfluous in this world. Because of his own fears, he has developed a belief that he has to strive for something in order not to lose himself. All Weskers have been raised to believe that they have a great destiny, which builds an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem.

With his fear of losing his identity, Wesker isolates himself from others, creating psychological walls that even he is afraid to penetrate. This may be the reason he broke up with Ms. Muller. She risked getting into places where even his foot had not set foot, so it became necessary to distance himself from her in order to avoid unpredictable consequences.

His dream, adopted from Spencer, actually echoes his deeply buried problem. «Infect people with a virus that will only improve and not kill a select few like him» That is, Wesker dreamed of making people like himself. Isn't it loneliness and desperation that makes people do such things? It didn't seem that he was hungry for «power» specifically, because he already had it in the traditional sense. All the more, based on his words, he did not wish for evil with this gesture, he wished to «save» humanity, knowing that millions would die. For the sake of finding a company «worthy of him», he was willing to risk killing everyone and being alone. Desperate and lost, he began to make bad decisions.

You know, it's been unusually hard for me to see beyond the obvious. I feel like I did the wrong thing by taking it upon myself to judge him without knowing almost anything about him. I originally had a biased and negative opinion of the character. But now I've gone neutral.

What do I see in front of me now? A character disconnected from his own lore. We read about one thing and see something else entirely. And also an unhappy man. Wesker is famous for his reports. They were always interesting to read because of their informative and judicious tone, so it was much more interesting to watch him when he acted in accordance with his reasoning.

Judging from the story, he is able to evoke compassion and empathy in the viewer, but does he evoke it in action? In action, he evokes nothing. He is not even annoying, although a well-written character should evoke an emotional response, but he evokes it only with his story.

Creating something unambiguously negative is not a bad thing. But such a thing should be presented wisely, and it should have a certain kind of backstory, which will only deepen our belief that this object is evil.

But in Wesker's case, things went wrong from the start. Having created a story that resonates in you with an atmosphere of hopelessness, lack of choice, and fear of losing yourself, we see a character that doesn't match that. It's the events of the personal story that create the character, but if the character feels pulled from it, something went wrong in the writing.

If you are creating a character who is supposed to be compassion, the story should help with that, make you feel his problem. The same is true if you're writing someone who is negative and should be disgusting. Murder isn't enough to make a character a villain, the story is the main key. And our victim's story isn't about becoming evil at all, it's about fighting fear, where fear wins in the end, which doesn't fit with the concept of evil evil at all. That's why the player/reader/viewer can't always decide who he is: antagonist? Anti-villain? Who the hell is he?

[The beginning of an optional fragment]

By the way, there aren't enough facts in this analysis, so now we're going to break down the prototype virus that was injected into 13 Weskers. If you're not interested in that, skip to the next section. I haven't previously mentioned the Progenitor, from which many viruses in this universe originated, so the prototype is an unstable strain of the Progenitor, weakened dozens of times so as not to be too toxic. This virus either gives a person immense strength or kills them altogether. Alex stayed somewhere in the middle, because nothing happened to her, but her brother changed a lot.

Wesker has special genes, as well as immunity, that made the prototype fused with him. But activation, according to Birkin's report, requires a stressful situation. That means the hormones released as a result of stress dramatically amplify the influence of the virus, helping the body to initiate the fusion. It's all about hormones, we'll come back to that.

When Wesker received an injury incompatible with life from Tyrant, the hormones produced at that moment triggered the V-ACT process. He went into anabiosis, transforming all the cellular tissue in his body as well as repairing the damage he had sustained.

But having gained strength through a complete reorganization of his body, he was not yet aware of the instability of the virus inside. He didn't know that the prototype doesn't «fix» in his body. Therefore, the strength provided by the virus is not eternal, weakening with time.

So Wesker has to take PG67A/W regularly to re-secure the virus inside and stay strong. An insufficient dose of PG67A/W can cause malaise, and a large dose becomes poison. Which is what happened in re5 when Chris and Sheva injected him with the substance an extra two times. He experienced pain, and then presumably his powers escalated to the point where he no longer had control over them and they lost usefulness.

His son, Jake, also inherited genes and special immunity, which is why most viruses are harmless to him, but also do not give any advantages.

The fact that the forces of an overdose are not lost, proves the moment when Wesker easily damages the rocket with his bare hand.

Now back to the subject of hormones. Not only do they provoke viral activation, but they are a completely controlling element. Wesker, when provoking his emotions, can change the density of his own body, which also causes bioluminescence in his eyes. I noticed this when rewatching the re5 cutscenes. Always when he is about to strike, his eyes start to glow. Glow is emotion, and emotion is hormones.

This is why Excella can free pierce his skin with a needle and inject the drug, because at this point Wesker is calm and his body density is close to that of a human. In battle, his body is like a stone, it hurts Chris to hit him and this can be seen in his animations.

[The end of an optional fragment]

The injections are another painful element that robs Wesker of his sense of self-worth and freedom. Therefore, coupled with the fear of losing himself, he has an inferiority complex. This complex manifests itself outwardly in a superiority complex - in arrogance, an inflated ego, which we see in his behavior. This is the answer to the question of many people, why he behaves this way. Not considering himself a full member of society, not considering himself suitable for ordinary life, Wesker begins to believe that he is above «all that» and calls himself God, in other words self-deception.

An inflated ego is the result of psychological defense, a sign of hidden fears (loss of self). It also indicates the presence of insecurity, which he tries to hide by creating a strong image for the outside world. However, like many people with large egos, Wesker has a fragile self-esteem, which is why he hates so much the rude Chris who initially discerned his weak side. His self-esteem is closely tied to his ego, so with the image he has created, Wesker protects a side of himself that he never shows to others. He hides it even from himself, as I mentioned earlier.

I thought Jake's AI words would be perfect here:

This is the only fragment where I decided to have fun with AI, but it gave me something that really makes sense.

I would like to summarize, because the analysis turned out to be long, and something towards the end may have already slipped the reader's mind. So... What do we know?

Because of his nonstandard childhood and obsessive upbringing, Wesker has an unhealthy and extremely vulnerable self-esteem. By deceiving himself, he began to consider himself superior to everything ordinary, and to believe that he is simply not made for this cruel and unfair world with wars and diseases, so he dreams of creating «his own world», where there will be «equal» people, so that he will no longer feel superfluous.

Also, because of his childhood, he is withdrawn to the point where he hides his true feelings and needs even from himself. He feels safe as long as no one knows what he cares about. If you don't know what a person cares about, you can't manipulate him. And if he doesn't care about anything, he is invulnerable. He is afraid to be himself and express it. He himself doesn't know what «he» is really like. Judging by his phrases in the game, Wesker would like acceptance, but would never admit it openly.

It is also an echo of an effect he has been under the influence of all his life - the «fear of losing himself». This fear has become a convenient pattern of behavior in his life: pretending not to care about anything and believing it. People with this fear need to appear indifferent, not letting anyone know that anything matters to them.

But what is «fear of losing yourself»? It is the phobia that someone more powerful can manipulate you and take away your sense of security, of reliability, whereupon you no longer consider yourself strong and confident. Wesker felt for years that he was under Spencer's strong influence, his puppet, which cemented the «fear of losing himself» even deeper. Every step in his life was not his personal choice but Spencer's, Wesker was only made to think that he was acting on his own free will.

Loneliness and lack of empathy were also his eternal companions. Never having friends, never having family and support, and never having anyone that Wesker could cherish. And no one who would have treasured him. That's why he's so fixated on himself, because if he loses the only thing he has, he'll have nothing left at all. That's why he prioritizes pragmatism over emotion, easily betraying anyone and replacing one with another. But he also tends to cling to the past, sometimes betraying his pragmatism.

-------------------

Due to a misunderstanding, I would like to supplement my text. This analysis is only my personal interpretation and my personal view of the character and his story. I do not claim that it is 100% canon, because canon is so vague and disjointed that it is impossible to fully assemble it objectively. Everyone is entitled to have an interpretation different from mine. Best wishes to all!

#resident evil #rebhfun #resident evil 5 #resident evil 4 #albert wesker #chris redfield #umbrella chronicles #resident evil 6 #cenori's long posts about RE

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atreeinthemoonlight · 6 days ago

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I never understood the "oh, poor Rhaegar was in an arranged political marriage" like

So was Elia??? And she had to bear the worst of the deal, considering that both pregnancies nearly killed her and then she was killed (with the children she so dearly loved) because her husband couldn't keep it in his pants.

I find Rhaegar to be an interesting character, with the mystery surrounding him and what he wanted to do as king and whatever he read that made him go "I need to be good with a sword too", but he was not a victim of anything but himself.

Elia, Aegon&Rhaenys and Rhaella had it worse than anyone in the Red Keep and no one can convince me otherwise.

When people sigh over how tragic Rhaegar was, it’s usually a call for sympathy and emotional alignment. The howl of the alpha wolf calls the pack. They want others to join in on the melancholy, to feel the doomed romance. Bringing up Elia, though? That breaks the illusion. It reminds everyone that this tragedy had real victims, and that makes it harder to pretend it was just a love story. Elia is the hurdle they’ll never get over — a constant reminder that their so-called rebellion against arranged marriage didn’t challenge the system even a little. All it did was trample over the wife and children within that very system, under the grand banner of “defying tradition.”

It’s nothing more than another ordinary day in Westeros, where a powerful man keeps his wife and children in one hand, and his true love in the other. Strip away the tragic music and blue roses, and what’s left is just the same old story: privilege without accountability, desire without consequence. The ones who flip the table are rarely the ones who stay to clean up the mess. It’s usually the quiet, unremarkable people who end up picking up the pieces.

#game of thrones #asoiaf #a song of ice and fire #rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaelya #anti rhaegar stans #anti rhaegar targaryen #anti rhaegar x lyanna #anti lyanna stans

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deancaspinefest · 4 months ago

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Love's Menagerie

Author: SamandDean76 | Artist: Mörökölli

Posting on Saturday March 15

Castiel was the most trusted Alpha courtesan in the royal court of Chuck and Rowena. He obeyed all the commands that were given him, including the order to service a mysterious Omega who showed up at the castle in the middle of the night. Castiel was entranced by the desperate Omega, and he was gentle when he helped the young man through his first heat. But the Omega was clearly upset to have needed any aid, and once done, he wields a surprising strength and sucker punches Castiel before he flees into the night. Dean was an Omega in dire need, searching for his destined true mate, when his heat was triggered. He couldn’t believe his luck when Castiel was delivered to his chambers. In a panic, once he realized that they had conceived, Dean fled and pined for his lost mate while he raised the children their one night of passion had helped to create. But how was he going to remedy the dilemma of no mate, and being shunned within his own kingdom? Sam wasn’t about to let the foolish pride of his brother and his brother’s future mate stand in the way of their destined love. With a bold plan, he kidnaps Castiel and reunites them. Only to discover that the biggest hurdles to their happily ever after are only just beginning.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

Chuck met his gaze as he placed a thin hand on his shoulder and drew him closer. “Castiel, this is a very delicate matter. The young man had only just presented, and it had been assumed that he would be an Alpha. He was betrothed to an Omega princess, but now. Well, that’s not the important part.” Castiel remained passively calm while he listened to the king, knowing that it sometimes required him several long minutes before he came close to making whatever point he was driving towards.

“This boy was to be a king, and now. I know that you are aware that not all nations are as tolerant as we are.” Castiel nodded, for that was a simple fact. Valaria was a kingdom that had fully embraced both sides of their nature. They had taken the time to acknowledge that one half could not survive and thrive without the full support and cooperation of the other. Omegas lifted up their Alphas while the Alphas did everything in their power to cherish those who gave them their all. While some prejudices may still exist, as evidenced by the guard that Castiel still couldn’t drudge up any sympathy for, other nations were not so kind or fair to all of their people.

“He was left to suffer unattended for almost two days now. And this is his first time. I need you to be gentle with him and give him all that he requires.” Castiel couldn’t stop his eyelids from falling shut as the wretched news hit him full force. An Omega that was in such dire need, having been denied so long already, their body would be in a desperate state. They would require that Castiel give everything he had to offer.

Including his seed.

On any other occasion, Castiel would drink the serum, and he would be rendered sterile for the duration of the coupling. The Omega would still gain what they required – an infusion of pheromones and his release, but Castiel wouldn’t risk leaving a child alone in the world. For he was not of royal lineage and any child he sired would be cast off. Given to others to be raised as a servant who might one day follow in his father’s footsteps.

While Castiel had indeed made the best of his lot in life, he would never dream of wishing it upon another. Especially one who was completely innocent and would only be seen as an unwanted byproduct of a necessary evil. One that should have been royalty otherwise and would have been allowed to lead a life of leisure. Instead, that dream would be cruelly snatched away, and the child would know drudgery and unless incredibly fortunate, a short and hard life followed by an unremarkable death. Mourned by no one when their existence should have been heralded.

Keep reading on Ao3 after Saturday March 15 🌲Find more 2025 Pinefest previews here 🌲

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2025 #pinefest previews 2025 #Dean/Cas Pinefest #SamandDean76 #Mörökölli #Royalty AU #Lost Prince #Courtesan Castiel

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echotunes · 5 months ago

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hey! What is Tatort Saarbrücken and is there English subtitles for it? (Also where can I watch it?)

hi anon! so. bear with me here,

First you must understand that Tatort ("Crime Scene") (Wikipedia) is the German cop show. A lot of German television is cop shows, but this is the one - it's been running every Sunday since 1970 (making it the longest-running German TV drama), in the prime time slot at 8:15pm on public-service broadcast organisation ARD's TV channel Das Erste, right after the evening news program Tagesschau. Murder-of-the-week style, every episode deals with a homicide case that the characters then investigate and eventually solve (and it's all very dramatic, as crime shows tend to be). So you understand Tatort is very mainstream. The mainstream. Your parents watch Tatort. Your grandparents watch Tatort. It's a Thing. (it's also obviously all copaganda we're aware of this)

(This makes the fact that it trends on Tumblr every year very funny to everyone involved. Because it's, y'know. Tatort. Half the reason people (including me) get into it is because they go "why is Tatort of all things trending on Tumblr what is all this about")

There's different versions of Tatort, set in different cities and all produced by the public-service broadcast services of that region - each focusing on different characters (but all of whom are cops because that's what the show is about). Each location only gets one to three episodes a year, so it switches through every week. There's Cologne, Münster, Berlin, whatever; and then there's Saarbrücken. Saarbrücken is the capital of Saarland, the smallest German state after Bremen, Hamburg and Berlin (all of which are city-states). It's... unremarkable. You never usually hear anything about Saarbrücken. Or Saarland in general really (sorry Saarland). So you wouldn't expect its Tatort to be remarkable either.

Except! This particular set-in-Saarbrücken Tatort has been running since 2020, and people on Tumblr got interested in it because the two main guys have a Dynamic(tm) going on. After episode 3 they also officially added the two women to the main team because they forgot about them the first time around or something (thank you mainstream tv). but anyway our four characters are Leo Hölzer (the buff guy in the holster, kind of the glue of the team), Adam Schürk (dishevelled blond man who is really bad at his job and Angsty(tm)), Pia Heinrich (workaholic in the sports jacket), and Esther Baumann (big football fan, seemingly the only person on this team who actually takes her job seriously).

Tatort Saarbrücken is also affectionately known as "Spatort" (Spaten (spade) + Tatort), because a lot of Leo and Adam's Dynamic is about the fact that they knew each other as kids when Adam was being physically abused by his dad, and Leo eventually hit the dad over the head with a shovel, putting him in a coma (which, spoilers, he wakes up from at the end of the first episode). And then Adam went missing (left the city) for like 15 years but now he's returned to Saarbrücken for mysterious reasons (it was Leo. Leo was the reason). and now he and Leo are work colleagues and they have queer-flavoured tension going on and this backstory is still very much relevant in between the usual crime-solving. they are honestly not very good at their jobs but well that's part of the appeal. and people enjoy gay shipping them because of course they do. (is this queerbaiting? maybe! but again the fact that this is all in Tatort is very ???-inducing to many)

Pia and Esther were only officially added to the "main team" in episode 3 because I guess the writers forgot about women for the first two. which is unfortunately not surprising but well they're here too now! until last episode they felt like they might have had some sort of queer thing going on too but then in the 2025 episode Pia had a suspiciously-het-romance-teasing scene with Adam (they do not have romantic chemistry this was a weird choice we all agree on this) and Esther was flirting with a previously-unseen French colleague (who was a woman though so win for queer Esther enjoyers) so who knows. but we like them too! even though there's less dramatic backstory for them both, there's still things hinted at (like Pia's sister having gone missing years ago. knowing this show this will be relevant at some point)

Also as you may have already gathered there is only one episode of Tatort Saarbrücken released every year. So basically every January we all come together and tune in to watch our annual 90 minutes of cop show episode, liveblog together, make gifsets about it, trend on Tumblr, and then go back into hibernation until the next year. It's a beautiful event for the German tumblr community

As for watching it: It's public television, so it's available for free online in the ARD Mediathek. The six episodes there have been so far are, in order:

Das fleißige Lieschen (named after the codename for the V-3 cannon (Wikipedia) - 2020)

Der Herr des Waldes (The lord of the forest - 2021)

Das Herz der Schlange (The heart of the snake - 2022)

Die Kälte der Erde (The cold of the earth - 2023)

Der Fluch des Geldes (The money curse - 2024)

Das Ende der Nacht (The end of the night - 2025)

As for English subtitles - there's no official ones, but you can check out this post for info on fanmade ones!

#...if you have any more questions lmk LOL #echo.asks #tatort saarbrücken #anon

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raisinchallah · 3 months ago

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knowing theres a long proud history of gay the man from uncle parodies so i must throw my hat in the ring after watching like a season of it anyways without further ado the pinkmail affair there has been a spate of blackmail events hitting a secretive well to do circle of powerful gay men and it threatens to cause problems for international security of certain note is a major scientist whos likely to be the next mark as hes working on a top secret chemical experiment of great interest to thrush so they must work to untangle the blackmail web and keep the scientists secrets they recruit the episodes innocent a pretty twink whos being threatened by the blackmailer to help them make introductions and insinuate themselves into new yorks gay high society unobtrusively napoleon is lightly fuming that he is significantly less popular with men than with women and that illya is getting most of the attention including of the episodes innocent and keeps mugging to the camera making his various silly grouchy faces when illya gets hit on by men etc etc he is also extremely popular for his ascerbic remarks about the latest opera at the met (illya is always very cultured) anyways the scientists grand secret formula is a gas that turns people gay hoped to be wielded by the over the top gay villain working for thrush to turn the whole world gay and incite world domination it is also explosive when used in high enough concentrations at one point of course they plant a gay car bomb in the uncle get away car but mysteriously illya and napoleon walk away unscathed and unchanged by the gay bomb acting their usual selves this goes unremarked upon in the episode but is of grave interest to the dedicated slash shippers for decades to follow they must race against the clock to burn the blackmail material so the innocent can keep his job and not go bankrupt but are quickly apprehended by the buff sexy goons hired by the evil scientist and must now escape from the bodybuilder bondage dungeon in the basement of his laboratory all the while fighting a ticking clock before the blackmail materials are leaked and the gay gas released on a major metropolitan area in the middle of tense international negotiations through a series of devious twists and napoleons silly mugging to the camera they slither out of the sensual bodybuilder body guard's grasp and though they are thoroughly outgunned in the gay gas factory located even further beneath the evil lab with their cunning quick wits and illya winking to distract the guards they manage to blow up the entire facility before any of the gay gas is released and the evil scientist falls into a bubbling vat as they make their escape things end on a comical note when the innocent says at the end you played gay quite convincingly to which napoleon replies acting who said i was acting freeze frame end credits

#tmfu #the man from uncle

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moongirldreamer · 1 year ago

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Lighthouse keeper!Eddie x siren!reader

Happy Eddiversary to those who celebrate (this is so late lol)

words: 1k

cw: none i don't think.

a/n: besties this is my first ever fic please be nice to me I tried my best.

Thank you to my friend @theold-ultraviolence Irma i wouldn't have come up with this au or written any of it, if it wasn't for you and our Self Indulgence Sundays. Thank you for nudging me i love you <3

Lightkeeper!Eddie headcannons

August 17 1824

It's been a week since the mysterious lass appeared on my doorstep. Two more till the supply dingy visits, it's been strange, readapting to living with a person but we’ve fallen into a routine. I've found a smile on my face many a time as I'm working. Her voice carries on the wind, it's almost as if it’s blowing it directly to me.

E.M.

Eddie hardly counted the sailors he’d met and slept next to people, not civilized people at least, forced to wash with salt water to preserve the limited supply of fresh water. He spent many a night with a makeshift mask over his face to hopefully block out the scent of sweat and the sea but when she arrived, he found he didn't mind it, almost like he missed it.

The keeper's house contained 2 rooms as the tending was intended to be a 2-man job, he never realized how empty the small space was until she occupied it. Grown used to the loneliness the sea brings he forgot that the ocean also gives, and she had given him a beautiful gift. He tried to be the perfect housemate before he went off to his tending. He left coffee already brewed in a small metal pot for her to reheat when she woke, fetched a bucket of water for her from the cistern and left a note on the kitchen table : back at sunset. Will cook dinner- E

Morning work was easy enough; take inventory, rain fell last night meaning the cistern had to be woken up with chalk and a good mixing and then any odd maintenance works the buildings needed. He would always know when she was awake no matter how far he wandered from their quarters, her voice seemed to carry on the wind straight to him. Often time he found himself singing along, whistling is a bad omen on ships he remembers this even on land. He knew quite a few sea shanties, picked up a few local songs while he was on the mainland, but she often sings songs he's never heard before and sometimes he thinks in a language he can't understand.

At noon he returns to a simple meal tack and stew she so proudly displays to him half burnt and over salted, but he grins and eats it anyway. She told him in the first week with misty eyes

“I don't want to be a burden, let me….. Let me cook lunch at least you work so hard let me help you” lip trembling and how could he deny her.

“The poor thing” he thought “could make anything taste like salt water and gruel” but he eats anyway.

“Thank you darling, what would i do without you?"

“You're welcome" grinning she looks down at her plate before shyly muttering

"if you're not too busy, would you like to join me on a walk at sunset?"

"OfCourse, anything for you" he smirks leaving her with a kiss on her hairline.

Sunset at the lighthouse made it seem like the sky and sea were competing for your attention, seeing which could glimmer brighter, but Eddies attention was elsewhere. He was enchanted by how her beauty seemed to be enhanced in the golden light.

"Open your hand" she blinks up at him one her fists closed tightly. Wordlessly he gives her his palm and she places an oyster shell, no longer than his pinkie, in it

He grins "an oyster?"

"Yes, my mother told me they were a sign of good fortune"

"Huh I only know them as dinner"

She laughs, mouth opening to give him a clever word or two when she suddenly goes stiff looking over his shoulder.

"What is it?" he spins to look at what could've possibly rattled her, and behind him on a boulder is a seagull, a bit unremarkable too no missing limbs or gnarled features.

So, he laughs” You're scared of that little thing?”

“Yes, they're retched beasts of the sky with no manners” she grips his bicep keeping him between her and the bird.

“Y’know on the ships they say they’re the souls of drowned sailors, so we treat them kindly just like our human shipmates” he laughs as she moves her glare from the gull over to him.

“I think they should be chum” she says, squinting at the bird, almost daring it to attack.

In a sudden move the gull swoops over their heads missing hers by a centimeter and continuing out to sea.

"Did you see that! that that monster nearly killed me"

"Maybe you need this more than i do" he dropped the oyster back into her palm

"What? no, no i want you to have it, besides you'll need it if you're going to try befriending those creatures"

He chuckled, the sound like warm honey in the cool sea breeze. "Alright, if you insist. But I promise, no more gull attacks on my watch."

Shakily she grabbed his arm again as they continued their walk down the shoreline.

"Do you ever miss it? sailing? "

"Hmm, sometimes" he sends a wistful look out at the water the sun spilling over it as the last of it slips below the horizon.

"it was my life, the only thing I was good at" he grins, but it's sad round the edges.

"but i needed the change, it was getting too repetitive"

"so you decided to tend a lighthouse? the same job day in day out" her eyebrows pull together eyes squinting in confusion

another smile this one woven with affection "well I'd travelled a while but i needed to return to the sea almost- almost as if something was"

"Was calling you back" her tone changes, her voice becomes layered whispers singing and screaming. her eyes gleam, a secret understanding.

"Yes like-like it was calling me" he steps towards her without thinking, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other, eyes locked on hers until he feels wet? Looking down he realizes his boots are drenched, shin length in the waves his brows furrow.

"What are you doing?" asks melodic laugh behind him and he turns to see her, face lit up with the last of the afternoon glee and a smile.

"Think I wanted to go for a swim" the end lifts like a question, he looks back down to his feet barely visible in the water

"But it's getting dark, we should head back" again her voice changes and he moves without remembering, until they're back to their quarters and she bids him goodnight.

That night as he refills the oil and cleans the lense at the top of the lighthouse out in the distance on a cluster of rocks he sees a figure bathed in darkness. He can only make out a humanoid figure with their hair whipping in the cold sea air behind them. Leaning over the railing to squint into the darkness his blood runs cold as a wail crosses the distance, then a soft whisper, as if it was said over his shoulder, of his name.

"eddie"

#baby's first fic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #lightkeeper!eddie munson x siren!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader angst #stranger things #eddie munson au #lightkeeper au #eddie munson siren au #joseph quinn #mermay #eddiversary

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