#i love love love the idea of pointing out and playing with clichés and tropes

[tvrningout-a]

chiyo, formerly a background character, suddenly experiencing main character moments after she was bitten bc that makes her a main character now?? yes and it's the silliest day of clichés and freaking out over inconvenient powers :' ))

[da-rulah]

Hail and well-met, you sparkling star dusted talented thing, you! I hope this week has wonderful things in store for you. I know it’s cliché, but I’d love to see how the Papas deal with the “one-bed trope”.

- aimlessly wandering anon

Thank you, my darling!! Oh, I love this trope. Is it a cliché? YES but it's a cliché for a reason. We love it.

For this, the situation is the same for each papa... Each papa has unconfessed feelings for reader, and reader for papa. They are on tour in another country, and having to share a motel room after a mix up.

Primo

Insists he will sleep on the floor, despite his arthritis and the fact he may not get back up again.

Tells you it's no trouble at all when you protest and promise your back would fare better from a night on the dingy motel carpet.

You insist he takes the bed, even if that means sharing

"Look we're both adults, let's just... share it, Papa!"

He relents, a little too easily to that idea, but he didn't really want to be sleeping on the floor.

He snores like a fog horn

You remember reading something about rolling a snorer over to get them to stop, so you decide to try that so you can at least get a few winks in before the next tour stop...

The second your hand touches his shoulder, he's gripping onto your wrist in a sleepy daze and pulling you towards him until your body is flush with his.

His snoring stops, but now a very deeply sleeping Papa Primo is cuddling you to his chest like a stuffed animal.

You found it far too easy to get comfortable there, snuggling into him and pretend even if just for tonight that he'd done this on purpose, wanting you close to him.

He peaks his eye open when he hears your breathing softening and slowing, smiling a little to himself as he sinks into the pillows.

He was awake enough. He had, indeed, done this on purpose.

Secondo

Spends 20 minutes arguing with the receptionist about the room mix up. He is livid.

When you get to the room, he's in a foul mood.

"One bed? Oh for fucks sake!" he rages.

You're being very quiet, unnerved by his bad mood. You worry you might say something to make him channel his annoyance onto you.

There's no couch and very little floorspace, so you have to take the bed together. There's no other option.

You lay on your sides, facing away from each other with as much room between you as humanly possible because Secondo is an adult and adults don't sulk...

You fall asleep first.

In your sleep, you move around a lot, in particular, you roll onto your other side, now against his back, with an arm slung over his waist.

Secondo tenses up at first, slowly turning his head to see if you're awake. You definitely are not.

Rather than risk waking you, he leaves you be - you've been working so hard for him lately, this tour really taking out of you. He'd feel awful if he let his favourite assistant continue tomorrow full of exhaustion, and lets face it, humiliation at being woken up spooning your papa...

Yeah, that's the reason he decides to leave you be.

It has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that this is the first time on this tour he's actually felt like he could relax...

Terzo

Sees the bed. Looks straight at you. Smirks.

"Oh, cara, however will we manage?" he teases.

You roll your eyes, tired of his shenanigans and frankly, just tired.

"I'll go down to the front desk, this can't be right..."

Papa jumps on the bed then, lounging and posing whilst running his gloved hand up his thigh and over the curve of his hip.

"You don't want to share my bed, dolcezza?"

No, you're going to the front desk. The last thing you need is for Terzo to play-flirt with you all damn night and end up riling you up to a point you make an absolute fool of yourself in front of your superior. No way.

When you come back sulking, he is still smirking.

"I'm building a pillow wall." You tell him defiantly. Now it's his turn to sulk.

In the middle of the night, you wake up to Terzo's face in front of yours, eyes watching you from over the top of the pillow wall you'd built.

"Are you watching me sleep?" you mumbled into the sheets.

"You were... talking."

Your blood runs cold the second he speaks. What exactly had you been saying?

With the widening of your eyes he smirks, removing the pillow from between you and throwing it to the floor. "Mhm. Would you like to know what about?"

When you don't answer but just keep staring at him, he rolls closer, his bare hand tracing a pattern down from your temple to your jaw, before he cups it and presses his lips to yours.

After a brief freeze, you sink into him, because of course you do. How could you not?

Terzo made sure that every motel/hotel stop had just one bed for you both from then on.

Copia

He makes it more awkward than it needed to be.

You assured him it would be fine, it was just one night after all. He makes a couple of awkward grumbling sounds, but hesitantly agrees.

The two of you both lie on your backs, staring up at the water marks on the ceiling as far as you can get away from each other. You're both stiff as a board, too awkward to look around or even fall asleep.

It's like you're one of those old married couples who fell out of love 20 years ago but stayed together for the kids.

It's just so awkward.

When both of you eventually do fall asleep, it's the first time you've relaxed since you stepped into the damn room together.

When morning comes, you wake up on your side, only to be greeted with a sleeping Papa just inches from your own face. Still, even in sleep, your bodies had been so careful not to touch each other...

You watch him for a little while, looking so peaceful, his deep set worry lines finally relaxed on his forehead.

But then he wakes up too...

You stare at each other, wide eyed for a moment while your brains catch up to the situation at hand.

"Eh... Buongiorno..."

"Morning..."

You continue to stare, time passing by agonisingly slowly. But slowly, you start to see his eyes drift over your face, taking in your features up close. He'd never been so close before, but now that he was, he could hardly tear himself away.

His gaze settled on your lips for a little too long. The air grew heavy and warm around you.

"Forgive me, but... may I just..."

His hand reaches up to tuck some hair behind your neck, fingertips skimming the exposed skin there.

And then, he's kissing you. Softly, delicately... In case you want to push him away from you.

But you don't. Instead, you press your lips back to his, eyes fluttering closed and your shoulder sinking into the mattress beneath you.

"Va bene..." he whispers, letting his head sink back to the pillow, eyes never leaving yours.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

heyy, maybe prompts 13 and 18 for mindy meeks martin??

‘’Shut up.’’ ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’ + ‘’You have no idea how much I want you.’’

Warnings: smut, masturbation (there was a lot more to the plan, but it was getting too long)

my taglists are here (I added one for SCREAM) + you can requests here at any time

—

If you and Mindy were a romance cliché, you would be the roommates trope. Chad liked to make fun of his sister for falling into a cliché when all her life she’s been emphasizing on how different she was.

When your relationship became serious, you and Mindy did some rearrangement to the dorm. You pushed the beds together to make one big bed, tired of having to squeeze into one of the twin beds, and got rid of the shirtless Henry Cavill poster that the previous girl had left there. It was really not your vibe.

A sight left your lips, filling the quiet of the dorm. You had been playing on your switch while Mindy was sitting at her desk, working on her film class assignment. It was due for tomorrow so she really needed to get it done before joining you for your nightly movie. You had started this little routine as a way to unwind and spend time together, as if you didn’t already spend 80% of your day together.

You turned your video game off and called Mindy.

‘’I’m almost finished, babe. I just really need to write about this one aspect that I know will get me a lot of bonus points and then we’ll watch a movie.’’

You liked her cinematic-nerd side, but these assignments were getting longer each time.

Another sigh left your lips and you grabbed your phone, scrolling on social media for a few. Quinn had posted a thirst-trap of herself in a tight dress, either heading to a Tinder date or trying to attract DMs from the male gender.

Taking inspiration from Quinn, you put your phone down and decided to tease your girlfriend.

‘’Mind!’’

‘’I’m almost finished,’’ she repeated, her eyes not quitting her laptop screen. ‘’Give me twenty minutes.’’

‘’Mindy!’’

This time, she peeked a glance at you over her shoulder and groaned, feeling her core tighten when seeing your breasts pulled out of your shirt. ‘’Fuck. How am I supposed to focus on school work now? You know I can’t think straight when I see those.’’ Mindy narrowed her eyes, giving you a pointed look. ‘’Are you trying to sabotage my grades?’’

You gave her your best innocent look. ‘’I’m bored,’’ you said, reaching your hand up to your left breast and rubbing your nipple.

Watching you touch yourself and not being able to join you was torture for Mindy. She wanted to ditch her assignment so badly, but she doubted Mrs. Crane would find your teasing a valid enough reason to not give her a bad mark.

You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, groping your other breast and making it even harder for Mindy to resist.

‘’You have no idea how much I want you. I really, really want to suck on those pretty nipples, but I have to resist the temptation and finish this assignment first. Then—’’ Mindy’s face switched, giving you a dark look, her eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘’Oh, I have a lot in mind, my love.’’

Her words sent butterflies to your pussy, making it tingle with excitation.

Instead of being good and patient, you decided to push your teasing a notch further and rid yourself of your skirt and underwear. You parted your legs open and brought one of your hands to your folds, sliding your finger up and down a couple of times, drawing out a sigh of pleasure.

It was evil, but you were in a naughty mood…and craving your girlfriend’s attention.

The soft sounds coming from your mouth caught Mindy’s attention, a curse slipping from her lips at the scene behind her. Might as well call it a personal X-rated live-show.

You raised your head, eyes meeting Mindy’s before you raised it to rub slowly against your clit. ‘’Aah, Mindy.’’

She couldn’t tear her eyes away, watching intently as you now pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in hard, fast circles as your other hand pulled at your nipple.

You moaned at your own touch, then dropped your fingers lower and pushed two inside yourself. ‘’Mmh. I wish it was your mouth on my clit and your fingers instead of mine—‘’

‘’Shut up.’’ Her voice sounded deeply frustrated.

A grin crossed your lips. ‘’Why don't you come over here and make me.’’

You didn't need to tell her twice.

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog 

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713​  @marzipaanz

[bluedalahorse]

For the ask game: 6, 16, and 20.

6. Characters you have ace, aro, or queerplatonic headcanons for

Ooh, a fun one! My aro and ace headcanons migrate a bit, depending on the fic. But I’ll list a few that I like:

I sometimes love the idea of aspec Felice (I have written her with multiple different sexual orientations though.)

I enjoy @heliza24’s aroace Ayub and @starvalisedham’s.

I adore @sflow-er’s ace Henry, in all his iterations.

I sometimes headcanon Maddie and/or Fredrika as alloaro. Fredrika in particular would be a fun character to write as aromantic and closeted even to herself, because she puts forward such a “traditional” idea of love at first that make the romantic clichés are her only frame of references? And then she hooks up with her best friend because of course she loves her best friend, right? I’d love to read a fic where Stella and Fredrika navigate their way through that.

On the queerplatonic side of things, @heliza24 and I essentially ended up writing Sara and Wilhelm as a QPR in Heart and Homeland, and we are FOREVER BITTER that the show only allowed them one brief exchange of dialogue.

16. A song that reminds you of a secondary character or pairing

Gotta say, “It’s Alright” by Dar Williams has got some strong August vibes. Shout out to “Rearrange the Art” by Sarah Jarosz and “Anchor to the World Below” by Freezepop as saraugust songs, also.

20. Dream fanfic about a secondary character and/or pairing that you’d love to read but don’t want to write yourself

Echoing @sflow-er’s exact words here: “I'd love to read a long, nuanced fic focused on Sar(au)gust in a canon-compliant or canon-divergent (but not full AU) setting, with a good-faith take on their individual characters and them as a pairing.”

With the add-on of: I’d love to read that kind of fic for them that takes their story in a direction I haven’t thought of! Obviously I have lots of saraugust fics swimming in my head but I’d love something multichapter where I don’t know exactly what’s going to happen next because I didn’t write it. Preferably something not too heavy on the tropey romance—I get that tropes are some of the building blocks of stories, but I’d love to see it fleshed out with good, solid characterization.

Bonus points if there’s Dark Academia vibes. Saraugust and Dark Academia go together so well.

Alternately: an AU where August is doing competitive figure skating and it’s slowly burning him out, and meanwhile Sara takes up skating as a hobby because she’s unable to do horses for some reason and she’s not great at it at first until August can teach her things, and they end up skating together. A friend wrote a snippet of that for me once and I was left with an ABSOLUTE CRAVING.

Asks are here if anyone else wants to play! I’ve answered: 3, 5, 6, 7, 15, 20. About to answer 12 and 17 next.

[lutethebodies]

✨Let's talk about OCs!✨How would you describe your OC's personality/aesthetic? What's your favourite thing about them? Tell us a fun fact(s) about your OC or their creation

❤️Send this to at least 3 people to spread some OC appreciation!❤️

Just wildly stoked that I've been asked to do this. I can and have waxed excessive about all of my Elite Eight Tavs, but since my asker @trappedinafantasy37 (whose character post is here) once described him as "the only bard I like," I'm gonna dance with the human that brung me—the bard who I played when getting back into the roleplaying hobby after three decades, the one I loved enough to write and record (in lieu of fic) seven songs from his point of view—the infamous yet underwhelming Lost Singer, Cannor Coth.

My goal with Cannor was if he were to get attention at all (in- or out-of-universe), it would be of the "he doesn't look/act/seem like a bard" variety. I'll try to keep this unique from everything else in his tag or his Tav Tuesday double-whammy or his Minthara relationship tag, but longtime readers may notice some overlap. I'll also try to keep this as short as possible (he says, preposterously), because it mostly boils down to the protesteth-too-much idea of "my elf bard is different!" so I'll offer a courtesy cut, with the rest below it:

PERSONALITY

Because, well, Cannor is different, superficially at least, from other more famous bards—both in his own universe and ours. His defining feature is his utter ordinariness; he's very much a performer who's not that performative. He's not a creepy lecher or a useless fop or any of those other clichés. He can pretend to be all that Volo-Marillion-Jaskier shit but finds it exhausting over time. Whatever time he spends out in public—whether in lordly courts or tumbledown taverns—must be balanced by relative isolation, both to decompress and analyze as needed. He certainly thinks too much; he leans into the idea of "lore" bard in terms of amassing tons of general knowledge and trivia.

He's had to learn that for his day job: a nebulous combination of envoy, entertainer, spy, saboteur, and other rogueish traits. He's not an official diplomat; he's the guy that diplomat hires to find out what people are really saying or thinking in places like shops, inns, winesinks, or street corners. He listens more and talks less—but when he talks, he knows exactly what to say in any given situation. In his line of work he can't afford to be overtly obnoxious, so Cannor's m.o. is more observation over outrage, more analysis over annoyance. A gig is a gig, and any job worth doing is worth doing competently—but a little flair or flourish here and there for emphasis won't hurt. Indeed its absence makes its deployment arguably more effective.

Did I realize, five years ago, that this was a trope so common that the D&D movie would adopt it for their main guy Edgin? I did not. Ah well; Ed can't wield a whip like Cannor (another cliché!). But what matters is that Cannor is first and foremost a professional. He makes a point to be good at whatever he does, but that doesn't make him good. He can be self-centered to a fault, and his overall cool control can't always keep him out of trouble; a backstory (which he's so ambivalent about that one of his few close friends had to write it) of poor parenting, malicious mentoring, and laissez-faire love has definitely left its mark. So, for all intents and purposes a rogue, but who tips into bard-dom because what he makes is more important than anything he takes; he values creativity over all else. He follows the muse.

AESTHETIC

Cannor is aesthetically well past whatever prime years anyone would expect of a bard-as-entertainer. He's a little bitter and jaded, a little slower and out of shape, a little wrinklier and grayer than the hot young kids tearing up stages and masquerades these days. For an admittedly pretentious guy he doesn't really dress like one; he wears nondescript darker outfits of mostly green, brown, or black (and favors padded or leather armor when required to wear any). He plays a big, long-necked lute tuned lower, and he plays it simply and succinctly—no dazzling virtuosic instrumental flourishes—as rhythmic accompaniment for what he sings. And even that can't really be called "singing" when it's more like a sneering, drawling, mumbling vehicle for his wordplay.

"FUN" FACTS

Infertility. Cannor is unable to father children, the inadvertent result of his captors' abuse during an extended incarceration in a foreign dungeon. Does Minthara know this? Yes, and I'm told she's fine with that. It would actually be the least of their problems if they stay together for very long after the events of BG3.

The Whip. I needed a finessy, less-violent way for Cannor to survive in my brother's combat-heavy 5e campaign, so mechanically a "swords bard wielding a whip" combined with his spell list worked out pretty well. Lore-wise, he had to be trained by one of his savvier, more violent friends—a fellow prisoner who broke him out. Sadly, in BG3 his best option for this is to spell-snipe Thorn Whip.

Ignominy. For Year Zero of my own homebrew game (but also other stuff like my brother's campaign and the BG3 Prologue), Cannor is at rock bottom: exiled to the sticks and boonies of nowheresville, with no prospects and no way home. Nobody knows him well or takes him seriously anymore. The only way left to go is up. In BG3, that monkey's paw curled via the nautiloid.

DEVELOPMENT

As a graphic designer but maybe not a "real" visual artist (though I do have my moments), I've tried to represent my guy's appearance in several ways, many of which have involved extensive and substantial work in Photoshop (for better or worse, my weapon of choice). I've also built him using HeroForge and Lego.

Is Cannor a self-insert? Yes and no. He's a wildly exaggerated version of some of me—a cartoon of some of my best and worst aspects. And that is no sin; as he (and I) say: "Doesn't everybody sweeten life with lies? Doesn't everybody self-mythologize?" You can reply "no" but I won't believe you.

As a muse, he's a great face to stand behind when I do creative things like self-publish fantasy atlases and self-release recording projects. Those two projects are two of the best things I've done and I'll never be too shy to say that. For better and worse, when I make something good I want my name on it, even if his name is also on it.

Thanks again to my asker. I love this guy and I guess I lied about keeping it short. If you made it all the way down here, thanks for the indulgence.

[damn-daemon]

2, 12, 20, 22, and 26 for the fanfic asks! :)

2. How do you come up with your plot ideas? Honestly, it's either one of two ways. I either observe a situation and ask myself "okay, what gaps are there that I can possibly inject something into?" Or the idea just sprouts in my head out of nowhere and introduces itself as the next thing I'm going to be obsessed with. It's usually the latter.

12. Are there any clichés or tropes that you actively avoid in your fics? Love triangles and destiny. If a love triangle is written well, it's going to consume me, but 9 times out of 10 it ends up being a mess and doing a disservice to one if not all of the characters. And destiny is so hard to write well, because it usually feels like a cop out and a lazy way to make excuses for poor planning and execution. I prefer that it feels like the actions characters make mean something.

20. How do you approach action sequences or intense moments? With a cross and holy water. With action scenes in particular, I have to firmly plant myself in the moment and follow the characters step by step. I have to remember where certain people are, how they are reacting to the things that are happening, and how their opposition will react to those reactions. As for intense scenes, it's a bit like the action, except with the emotional instead of the physical. How is this character feeling at this moment, how would they react to this feeling, how would other characters react knowing this character has this feeling? It requires an in depth knowledge of who you are writing. Either way, both result in me staring into nothingness. But I swear something is happening lol

22. What role does humor play in your writing? Do you enjoy adding comedic elements to your fics? Oh absolutely I enjoy it. For a fic to not include any comedic/lighthearted moments is for it to be dead and soulless. Life isn't all hardship and big events. It's the moments in between that truly make a person feel real. I use comedy to highlight those moments. To take a step back from the plot and remind the reader that the characters are still just people. They aren't plot devices. They exist in a space outside of the lines we have written down for their story.

26. How do you approach plot twists or surprises in your fics? They approach me actually, and demand that I change everything around them. I do try to sprinkle crumbs here and there that hint at these twists, but often when I come up with ideas, I may already be past the point of no return. There are so many plot twists I've discarded for that fact alone, because it would be coming out of left field and make no sense. So, as tempting as they may be, sometimes the surprises are just better left out.

[twstbookclub]

Introduction to 🦋

So, I’m the last of the admins for the Twisted Book Club. University life has a chokehold on me recently, but here I am. I’m Cressa and I’m the oldest of the trio—I won’t specify my age. You can call me C or Cress for short! My pronouns are she/her and they/them, but I don’t really mind whatever pronouns you use to refer to me.

I’ve been playing TWST since July, which makes me the admin with the shortest time possible in the fandom. Funny enough, I started playing the game after my birthday. I missed a shot at getting a birthday greeting right off the bat (*insert the pepe crying emote*). I like all the characters in TWST—Sebek included because I just know that boy annoyed a lot of people in the fandom—because of how well-written and in-depth they are. Although, my favorites are Floyd and Malleus. This doesn’t help me at all when my gacha luck is rotten and I’m strictly free-to-play.

I’m okay with writing any genre there is: fluffy, angst, comedy, and a mix of everything else. I usually try to make something original with cliché tropes and other prompts, too. Although, I draw the line at NSFW because I can’t write it and I’m uncomfortable writing it. Like I mentioned before, I’m a university student in a pre-medical program. This means that I’m usually busy, but I try to post something on Saturdays and Sundays whenever I can. My timezone is GMT +8, but I try to follow the CMT timezone just like this page.

With that out of the way, here are some fun facts about me!

Like any other tween in the 2010s, I wrote in Wattpad first. I had a oneshots book that somehow became popular, but I’d rather not go back to it. I dropped Wattpad years ago.

I know four languages, but I could only speak two fluently. I was trying to learn Korean before, but I stopped due to procrastination. I can only read the hangeul characters at this point. The other one? I understood it, but with how off it sounds in my voice, I barely speak it.

I’ve been reading books since I was a kid, and I mostly read fantasy. The only YA novel I genuinely reread is The Hunger Games. I’ll never get tired of it (and I’m Team Peeta all the way even if I’m okay with the idea of Katniss staying single in the end, too).

I’ve played a lot of games that I can’t even list them all here, but I did play Persona 5 Royal, Sonic Mania, Tekken 7, Kingdom Hearts 3, the Ace Attorney trilogy, and more!

Look, I’ve been dipping my toes in a pool of fandoms for years, and I can’t even tell you all of them because I lost track. I’m in the TWST fandom and I’m into anime, games, and a whole lot more. At this point, I’m just a multi-fandom anon who hasn’t taken that plunge yet.

I’ve been writing since I was 10 years old, and I’d like to think that I improved a lot as the years went by.

That’s all I can tell you right now. Like all the admins here, I associate myself with the 🦋 emote so you know it’s me whenever I post a fic or answer an ask. I love talking to anyone, really, so don’t be a stranger! I hope yall enjoy your time here in TBC! 💕

[kimium]

A4, A8, C3, and C7! For the Ask a Reader meme!

(From this ask HERE)

Thanks for the ask, Shreedle! I love what you picked! Let's get started!

A4: What is your AO3/FFN username? Has it always been that?

I honestly cannot remember my FFN username. I had one, that's all I can remember. What I can tell you is it wasn't Kimium because I had my FFN account before high school.

A8: What was your first fandom? Are you still in that fandom now?

My first fandom is a tie between Sailor Moon and Pokémon. The first fandom I read fanfiction for was a tie between Inu Yasha and Yu Yu Hakusho. I'd say I'm still in the fandom for Sailor Moon, Pokémon, and YYH, but at varying levels. Sadly, I wouldn't consider myself in the Inu Yasha fandom currently.

C3: Is there anything that makes you nope out of a story? What is it?

I have to list these by novel and fanfiction as they're separate categories.

For a novel what makes me nope out of one so fast is when there is the following:

-A female protagonist who is "not like" the other girls or is a "rebel" or is an "outcast" or is "fighting the system". Sorry, but that's so overdone and boring majority of the time because no one wants to reinvent the story tropes.

-There is a Mysterious, Hot, Male who just Happens to Come into her Life. Sadly majority of the time they play this trope straight and make him the main love interest.

-When romance movies have the main male do things that are 100% illegal/stalker-like/creepy and play them as "cute" and "romantic".

-Too much world building/power systems. Look, I love world building and power systems as much as the next person. I am a shonen anime fan. However, when books have intense glossaries or too many maps in the front before I even begin to read, I'm checking out.

-To side note off this point when there are legitimate family trees in the beginning of the story and notes about who is who in the family I also check out so fast it hurts. Not saying I haven't read stories with those before (see Clytemnestra which I read about a month ago and enjoyed) but sometimes it's too much.

Fanfiction

-NOT SEPARATING YOUR DIALOGUE INTO PARAGRAPHS WILL MAKE ME BACK OUT OF YOUR FIC SO FAST.

-Too much "telling" and not enough "showing". I don't need explanations for everything. You can describe it too.

-Not keeping to the same perspective in a clear, concise manner. I don't mind POV shifts but you cannot do that between paragraphs between characters with no indicators. That's so confusing.

-Writing in first person perspective. I'm sorry... for fanfiction it doesn't work for me.

-Self-inserts/a lot of OCs/Characterxreader: I am not knocking people who like that in their stories, but for me it's not my thing.

C7: Who is your NOTP?

I dislike Gojo/Utahime from JJK so much. It's not even because I'm a big Satosugu shipper. It's because they've barely interacted in the series proper and when they do it's clear Utahime cannot stand Gojo. When people ship them all I can think of is that horrible, horrible romance trope cliché of "She hates him... but secretly loves him" or "they start disliking one another but then FALL IN LOVE". I cannot stand those tropes.

If those two had more scenes/interactions beyond surface level stuff then perhaps I'd buy a bit more into it as an idea, but for now I refuse to even entertain it.

[tallysgreatestfan]

Alchemical Androids and a Rebellion - "Criers War" by Nina Varela

As a human, Ayla is treated as barely a person by the ruling androids created from alchemy, the Automatae. Her family was killed in one of their raids, and now she seeks revenge. As she manages to become handmaiden to Lady Crier, daughter of the King, her plan seems clear: Kill Crier. But then she gets to know her closer…

Crier believes that her father treats the humans well, since he is telling that to her all the time. Soon to be married to the powerful Kinok, her life seems perfect on the surface, but there are cracks. Why doesn’t her father let her speak in the council? Why are her human servants afraid of her? What exactly did Junn, the Mad Queen, do? As she meets Ayla, her worldview begins to shake, and as she starts to fall in love with her, she has to be afraid that she was made wrongly.

This was sold to me as a dystopia with a queer romance, which it isn’t. Oh, it absolutely is queer, and I love seeing this kind of story play out between two women, but its more fantasy with the rebellion and sci-fi undertone of a dystopia. A bit like Red Queen.

But as I was over that confusion, the book was gripping and easy to read. It read it quite fast, which is a compliment for me with my neurodiversity induced problems with reading sometimes. It alternates between Ayla and Criers point of view, and the author manages to use that quite well, holding up the tension, but also contrasting their different views on the world and their different status and upbringing. Their romance was slow and felt believable, and again, it’s so refreshing to have these enemies to lovers fantasy tropes play out between two women.

The worldbuilding felt detailed and solid too, and the idea of androids, but created through alchemy, is quite interesting. Oh, also most characters are black, and that is a nice change in medieval fantasy too. Other than that, the typical monarchy and horses and castles are a bit cliché though.

I enjoyed the characters too, even if other than Crier and Ayla none of them are particularly fleshed out, but enough to still be fun. However, both Ayla with her desperate fear of dependence and hardened, cynical worldview, and Crier, idealistic and wanting to change something but just don’t having the power despite being a princess, felt like real people, and seeing them interact was always fascinating.

There were also no deeper thoughts or analysis on oppression and resistance other than the usual very superficial “wealth inequality and monarchy is bad”, but since the book read so fastly, it was not really a problem, just something I wished for because I had expected an dystopia. Still, the understanding and solidarity but also the differences between the two women was a nice commentary on solidarity between women in the face of oppression.

However, and that is a mild spoiler, my queer heart suffered with Crier as she thought about falling in love with Ayla as something she should not be able to and a fundamental flaw of her. That part felt real and relatable, even though it was through a metaphor about the columns (traits) she was made with.

The ending feels a bit too quick and sudden, and is quite open. I will definitely buy the second part, though.

[jomatto]

More Than Machine

I spent most of yesterday playing around with ChatGPT since its impact has been making rounds in the headlines. I can’t deny that it does amazing in some specialized tasks like writing SEO copy, and I wanted to know how it would fare in more creative endeavors. 

The assault of machine learning on once thought unassailable institutions of human ingenuity such as writing, art, and music, has presented cracks in some long held beliefs in the uniqueness of humanity. We might scoff and point to one too many fingers as evidence of a machine’s inability to address things that only a human can, but given the exponential development of machine learning, the day in which we can readily identify the “soul” in a work may soon be ending much more quickly than we realize. It is both an exciting and exceedingly frightening time to be in.

I’ve never been one to shy away from technology. Back when I was kid, I used a typewriter, literal imprinting of ink on paper, to write my stories. Today? I use a mix of voice dictation and typing on my iPad with my documents stored on the cloud, so things have changed quite a bit when it comes to my process. AI seemingly looms as the next frontier. While it’s no secret that our capitalist overlords are salivating at the thought of rendering large swaths of the working population obsolete, perhaps we can reclaim some of our autonomy through those very same tools. 

I’ve always dreamed of creating my own anime, and it may not be a pipedream that a single individual can produce the art, design, animation, voice, and music all on their own through machine-learning. Putting aside, of course, the ethical breach of how these datasets are acquired and the deprecation of art, reduced to a mere data point in an array of many.

With all these things in mind, just how sophisticated is ChatGPT today and how worried should I be as a writer that my ass would soon be replaced by a bot? 

I started out my experiments with some simple prompts. I asked it to write me a love story with elements A, B, and C. To my surprise, it was able to write out a self-contained and complete narrative from start to finish. In mere seconds, it managed to accomplish more than 50% of the dreck that adorns the pages of FanFiction.net. 

But that thing we call “soul” was distinctly missing. Now, not to say that anything written by a person is imbued with this nebulous quality, but to put it simply, what ChatGPT wrote was boring, cookie-cutter, and generic. Now detractors will immediately point to this as an abject failure of machine learning, but I decided to change up my approach. The age old adage of how much you get very much applies here. The results are only as good as your prompts. One of the things I wanted to test was its memory.

I established characters, assigning them traits and idiosyncrasies, and then put the characters in situations where these elements would collide. The bot spit out perfectly coherent scenarios with all the variables provided. I was very impressed by the results.

I would ask for dialogue, conversations, monologues, and descriptive passages. On its own, these small snippets wouldn’t be very valuable, but it can serve as building blocks to something greater. I was able to bounce ideas off the bot and it would occasionally provide me with inspiration.

So I continued changing my prompts, keying in on small details, while zooming out and asking for possible overarching themes and ideas. To sum up my conclusion: ChatGPT can be an amazing writing tool. It almost feels like having your very own personal editor. 

Don’t expect it to surprise you, but therein lies its value, because it is a treasure trove of tropes and clichés, and half of being a good writer is knowing what those are and how to use them well. I can easily see myself resorting to this bot if I’m ever stuck on a writer’s block. 

Perhaps its greatest value is in research, figuring details about locations, cultures, and other fields. Say, for instance, you’ve set a story in a different country and you have no idea about its customs, or perhaps one of the characters is in an occupation and you don’t have much clue in what their day-to-day entails. ChatGPT can fill in those gaps. 

While I’m sure that some of the details won’t stand up to scrutiny from true professionals, it would very much pass the smell test for the majority. For the purposes of writing fiction, it is more than enough.  

In regards to FanFiction, ChatGPT is like the ultimate lore master and wiki guide. If there’s something you need to know, you can just ask it and it may reply with startling accuracy. For funsies, I asked it to proofread some badly written stories and it managed to make it readable. This stuff is crazy, yo.

There is one caveat though, ChatGPT is prohibited from giving you anything sexually suggestive, so don’t expect it to be your instant lemon/lime generator. Y’all gonna have to do that the good ol’ fashioned way.

To answer the question, ChatGPT is not creative enough to stand on its own, but can be a huge boon to writers who know how to use it well. Should my ass be worried? It’s hard to tell at the rate machine learning is developing, but I believe my writer’s ass should be good for at least a couple more years. 

Famous last words.

Maybe?

[thedrunksoldier]

Okay.

I'm perfectly aware that no one will ever read that and that what I'm doing is totally useless, but for my sake, I have to write this somewhere, to somehow, put my feelings and thoughts about this short film on Tumblr and let it rot.

So, if by mistake you happen to read that, I guess, I made the right choice to take the time to write it.

Anyway. Let's go.

I just saw this little short starring Sebastian Stan, purely because I'm desperate fanboy who can't stop himself to follow the projects he is in, and... I kinda like it. It's fun, short, unsettling and I really dig his friendship/duo with Miles, but that's not my point.

If I'm writting this is all about what the short is about. And all I can take from it is...

Terry is a child.

Okay.

Heart me out. (And for what's following, I'll ask you to lose 12min of your time to see it. Sorry.)

Everything about Terry makes me think that in this story, he is a child unable to do, at first, with his mom finding love, aka having to deal with a (weird, very weird) step-dad, a man that is taking care of him mom when, he, the "man" of the house is not here.

After all, it's a common trope in movies/books and all, that the only child/oldest one, takes the responsability of the missing parent, and here, Terry has the same position, role. He's coming back from home, looking worried about his mom, being all suspicious about his "friend" hanging too much with his mom, even having some kind of digusting at the thought that, this "friend" of his could be intimate with this mom aka taking the place of his father.

On that note, the throwing ball in the yard ? Really father/son like, and I know, must be the joke of the short, that the friend became the new step-father, but still, I can't imagine that it's all that innocent/simple.

The fact that the mom is mute can also be seen at a way to express the idea of a mother that don't want to distraught his son, already a little strange and uneasy about this man, a woman that doesn't really know how to handle her special son.

CAUSE YEAH. Him never really taking out his magician costume, even at home? Childs do that. I used to do that, to wear, at home, my favorite clothes, my "costume" just cause I refused to quit my act. And that's what Terry the Terrfic is. A child obsessed with magic who doesn't want to get out of his persona/character. Of his passion.

To follow that, I'll add that when he gets home (more on the next point) he only brings his magic stuff, and after all, while would he pack anything else? He has what he needs at home, in his room, so with him, he only carry the "important stuff", as any child would do. Clothes, toothbrushes and all... It's not essential at the eyes of a child, but his favorite toys/stuff? They'll carry it anywhere, everywhere, just like Terry.

About him getting home. Yeah. Looks like he's being drive out by a grand-parent, any parent that would have him for a week-end, for a week or even an afternoon. It's just a kid getting home. Not an adult man deciding it's time to be here for his old mom. (Once again, no luggages but only the magic stuff and his costume.)

Him having a tantrum in his room, with the stuffed bear, the sleeping with mom picture? Just a little boy being overwhelmed about losing his mom, feeling like he's getting overshadowed by the step-dad.

Little Terry. Ah. The "dead dove." More like, Terry breaking his fav toy that he is nursing or just an egg he is carrying, hoping that by some kind of magic, he'll make it hatch. I mean, even the funeral in the bathroom really echoed to that, to that point in childhood where we all had to let go of a pet/made up friend/favorite toy. (The goldfish cliché)

When Howard ask him about joining/helping, for his magic stuff? Looks like a thing any step-dad would do to get close to his step-son. And Terry saying it's a solo thing? I mean, kids sometime don't like to share. Especially with adults that they don't like. It's the same thing as don't wanting to play with them.

And I know, Terry is played by a grow man, BUT. HEAR ME OUT.

Terry is a unrealiable narrator. After all, everything we see, is from his POV, so as a watcher, all we can do, is trust him and, could it be that strange that he sees himself as a grow up? A man? While for his mom and Howard he's just... A kid. Little Terry not being really happy about his step-dad in the house, taking the place of his dad, making his mom happy... A kid that doesn't want to quit his persona of the terrific magician. A kid who need the whole short to accept that his mom is happy, that Howard is a fucking strange dude but one with good intentions ence the final scene with them doing a little show for the mom. (I MEAN. WHO DIDNT DO A LITTLE SHOW FOR MOM AS A KID JUST TO SHOW OFF? Okay maybe not on a Lonely Island song but still. You get my point.)

I know it's a flawed interpretation, a rushed one but, as someone who didn't sleep that much, and knows that this will be lost in the limbo of Tumblr, it's acceptable. I also know it's just a short film not meant to be taking that seriously, a bit strange and silly but... I don't know, it kinda woke up the art student I once was and... Well. Here we are, with me seing too much stuff in The Magic of Passion.

[achillieus]

we’re fools (bucky barnes x reader)

summary: for all bucky barnes knows, he hates clichés. and this thing between you two, happens to be the biggest one.

(enemies to lovers trope or i watched the society on netflix recently and based this entirely on harry bingham and cassandra pressman)

pairing: college au!bucky x reader

warnings: alcohol, a lot of sexual references, but also a lot of fluff, bucky and reader are in love, also bucky gets cheesy and he hates it

(other parts)  (masterlist)

part 3/3:

Bucky thinks he fell in love on a Tuesday.

“This year, I’m gonna ask Peggy Carter out.” It’s the first day of their third semester and Steve is putting his black baseball cap in his perfect hair, checking his reflection on his phone screen. One of the freshman girls winks at him and he shyly half smiles.

Usually, Bucky would tease him about it, but now he’s attention is wholly on something else. Someone else.

A girl at the other end of the hall, holding a paper juice box, wearing a gaudy denim dress that stops right before her knees.

He’s certain he hasn’t seen her before and judging by the adrift look on her face he deduces she’s in her first year. Is she pretty? He can’t decide. She’s definitely something. And if he stares at her a bit longer than socially acceptable, well let’s say, it’s completely unintended.

“Buck, did you hear what I said?” Steve says at one point and Bucky isn’t sure for how long he has been lost in her figure.

“Yeah sure.” The girl starts walking at their direction -it must be your lucky day, Bucky-, clutching the golden heart jewel around her neck. She’s looking at the doors, she’s looking at the big campus map they have on the wall. She’s looking everywhere but at him and it’s almost offensive considering the amount of time he spent looking at her.

“I’m sorry,” And then she’s there standing a few steps behind Steve. Almost hidden behind his colossal demeanor. “I can’t seem to find the Admission Office.”

A small nervous laugh escapes her lips and Bucky watches the little wrinkles around her eyes, the subtle blush on her cheeks. She doesn’t look pretty. No. She looks consuming.

“Admission office is on the left, doll”. He replies a little too fast. He had to beat Steve. He had to talk to her.

She smiles at him and somehow, along that smile, Bucky thinks he fell in love. With you.

-

(bucky barnes has been in love with you for 563 days)

-

“Did you just kiss me?”

His voice is barely a whisper and his vision is blurry and it’s weird because suddenly he realizes how scared he’s of you. Of the power you have on him. An alarming craving. Every addiction he can’t control combined. Bucky isn’t afraid of many things, not exactly. But he’s afraid that you’ll take his heart and break it, if you want to. And he’s more afraid that he’ll just allow you to. He wonders, for the split of a second, if you have any idea how everything changed when your lips met his. How something inside of him shifted.

“I’m sorry,” You finally answer and he needs a moment to compose himself, “I’m so sorry I just thought-”

“Shut up, I’d died if you hadn’t kissed me.”

“What?”

It’s innocent and terribly oblivious, the way you ask him that and he half smiles, almost touches your palm before his mind stops racing. Ignores the alcohol in his body. Reminds him that he’s Bucky Barnes, that he’s clever and brilliant and a little bit narcissistic and that he doesn’t do love.  Not anymore. And that people adore him for that. And that he needs to uphold it. At least try to.

“I’m not repeating that soppy thing I said,” He drawls and smirks, his teeth gleaming in the fluorescent light of the hall. He has his mask back on. He’s playing his part again. And then he takes a quick step, opens his door and turns around, swift motions and hard grips and suddenly your spine hits the walls of his room. “But you can repeat that sexy thing you did with your tongue.”

Bucky isn’t stupid. He knows he’d perish and wither in a blast if you asked him to, yet he would never admit that. At least not so fast. And specially not to you. He has built his persona so carefully, wore it like an armor, it has become a second skin.

His chapped lips scratch soft against your neck, his hands play with the end of your dress and you observe the way his orbs are colored darker now. He knows what he’s doing. It’s a show he’s practiced. His touch is sharp, like a razor, cuts through your epidermis, comes close to your veins and the muscles of your heart.

And you’re ready to close your eyes, savor every minute of it, offer yourself like an altar and let him wipe the rationality out of you, but the moment his fingers find the wet silk between your legs there’s pain and your throat dries out instantly.

“Bucky, wait.”

“What’s wrong doll?”

“Can we stop?”

There’s the cruel split of a moment where the anxiety inside of you flares up dangerously and you fill like on the edge of a cliff, like falling and it’s horrible. And then you see his body relax, breathing a sigh of relief and laughing.

“Thank God you asked.”

“Barnes,” you hit him with your elbow, “You’re doing wonders for my self esteem right now!”

“You’re an idiot,” he replies with a grimace, “It’s just that I’m drunk and I prefer if I’m not drunk when we have sex. I want to remember the whole thing.”

A strange sensation tingles somewhere between your ribs and your stomach, something so pure and new, and it raises goosebumps all over you. And you smile at him.

And somehow along that smile, Bucky’s mask starts to fall.

/

Bucky Barnes, you learnt within your first month in college, is a year older than you, a proud boy that always asks the right questions and always gives the right answers, with charms and wits of a living god.

Bucky Barnes, you learnt the night you kissed him in the narrow aisle, may have a sharp tongue but he also has the sweetest lips, soft and liqueur like.

Bucky Barnes, you learn some days later, doesn’t want many people to know about you two, and sits three tables away during lunch.

/

“Are you embarrassed of me?”

Your mind is racing with dozens of hurtful possibilities, some more or less, and Bucky looks at you, eyes widen and surprised.

“Why would I be embarrassed of you?”

“I don’t know,” you take the tea cup in your hands, drink and stay silent for a while, observe the way he’s fidgeting with his fingers, “Why else would you avoid me whenever there’s someone else but Sam around?”

It takes some time before he walks closer, sits next to you by his bedframe and touches your hand, your skin freezing under his.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

Your heart almost stops, because Bucky is never scared, and his answer feels strangely heavy and bitter from his lips when he says, “I just don’t want anyone to ruin this.”

He doesn’t smile, doesn’t even smirk like he usually does, just stares at you with narrow eyes and a quick breath.

“Bucky, I hate it to break it to you,” you say, a glint of amusement in your voice, “But I don’t think others care that much about us.”

You cup his face in your hands, guide him backwards, his back hitting the pillow and it’s the first time he has no choice but to comply.

“And even if they do,” you breath in, wet your lips and tease the corner of his mouth with your finger, “It’s not our problem.”

Bucky grabs the back of your neck, shifts even closer to you, his heart not missing a beat. And when you kiss him, he smiles. And somehow along that smile, Bucky becomes more of himself.

/

It goes like this;

People read it in his eyes. How his gaze never leaves you even while you’re writing a test and he needs to concentrate, how he looks mesmerized when you braid your hair while scanning the textbook in front of you. How he could find you even in the middle of the biggest crowd.

People see it in your reactions. How your fingers always wrap around his wrist, almost instinctively, before he leaves, and you kiss him one time on the lips, and then one more on the cheek. How your voice changes as soon as he enters the room. How you’d know he’s here even without looking.

You really have to try to be oblivious to love.

/

(text messages between classes)

(10:26 AM) bucky: hey does taylor swift have to be playing in the background when we have sex

(10:27 AM) you: it’s not even noon bucky what the hell

(10:27 AM) bucky: i went through your spotify and APPARENTLY you have a  “🍆🍆🍆” playlist

(10:27 AM) bucky: and it’s just taylor swift and hozier???

(10:27 AM) bucky: who the hell wants to have sex with a taylor swift song playing

(10:28 AM) you: I’m gonna kill you

(10:28 AM) bucky: nah <3

/

It’s surprisingly easy, dating Bucky Barnes, and by the end of the first month, you feel at home, at ease.  He talks a lot, way more than you expected him to, he shares his favorites, the way he always underlines quotes he likes in the books he’s reading or how he never eats anything that has soy in it. He shows you everything about him, not just who he is, but who he’s ever been. And it’s beautiful.

And you observe how he breathes easier now, smiles more. He doesn’t keep his guard up, doesn’t flinch when nobody’s looking at him.

/

He thinks it’s weird.

He thinks it’s weird, because kissing has always been an act of foreplay to him and he never paid much attention, but now, with you, he could spend his whole life kissing you.

But when you start pulling at the buttons of his black expensive shirt, well, it’s not like he’s complaining. He presses his body against yours, his hands almost shaking, his fingers burying in your hair, slowly tugging.

“Bucky,” You breath in his neck, “I may be bad at this.”

“What?” He whispers as he leaves wet trails all the way to your chest.

“I haven’t done this before, so I may be bad at it.”

He stares right at your lips, notices your sweet cherry scent mixing with the sharp notes of his aftershave, touches the spot under your eyes and smiles.

“Guess we’ll have to do it over and over again then.” He’s half laughing, half kissing your shoulder and you can feel your cheeks flush and your entire being tighten.

And then his cold fingertips draw circles on your inner thighs and you close your eyes, and Bucky forgets how to breath.

/

“I probably sound like a fool but, I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t plan on saying it that early, but he’s here, warm and glistening and in your arms and you can’t go another minute without hearing the words out loud.

“And I probably sound competitive but, I’ve been in love with you since God knows when.”

/

(AH IT’S FINISHED BUT YAY THEY’RE IN LOVE)

tagging: @tonystankschild @osterfieldshollandgirl​ @roguesthetic @buckyjms​ @ohladymacbeth​

[greysfall]

My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

-        Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

-        The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

-        The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

-        Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

-        The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

-        Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

-        Still good music

-        Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

-        Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

-        The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

-        The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

-        Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

-        Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

-        The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.  

-        I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

-        The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game…

-        The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

-        Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

-        Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

-        Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

-        Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

-        Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.  

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.  

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.  

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild.  Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.    

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.        

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.  

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.  

[mimicofmodes]

“The Ladies Waldegrave” by Joshua Reynolds, 1780 (NGS NG2171)

I’ve complained before about two very big pet peeves of mine - corset stuff and Regency women being dressed in 1770s-1780s clothes - but one that may dwarf them because of how frequently it comes up in historical and fantasy fiction is the oppression of embroidery.

That’s probably putting it a bit too strongly. It’s more like ... the annoyance of embroidery. Every character worth reading about knows instinctively that sewing is a) boring, b) difficult, c) mindless, and d) pointless. The author doesn’t have to say anything more than “Belinda threw down her needlework and looked out the window, sighing,” to signal that this is an independent woman whose values align with the modern reader, who’s probably not really understood by her mother or mother figure, and who probably will find an extraordinary man to “match” her rather than settling for someone ordinary. To look at an example from fantasy, GRRM uses embroidery in the very beginning of A Game of Thrones to show that the Stark sister who dislikes it is sympathetic and interesting, while the Stark sister who is competent at it is boring and conventional and obviously not deserving of a PoV (until later books, when her attention gets turned to higher matters); further into the book, of course, the pro-needlework sister proves to be weak-willed and naïve.

Rozsika Parker, in the groundbreaking 1996 work The Subversive Stitch, noted that “embroidery has become indelibly associated with stereotypes of femininity,” which is the core of the issue. "Instead embroidery and a stereotype of femininity have become collapsed into one another, characterised as mindless, decorative and delicate; like the icing on the cake, good to look at, adding taste and status, but devoid of significant content.” 

Parker also points out that the stereotype isn’t just one that was invented in the present day by feminists who hated the idea of being forced to do a certain craft. “The association between women and embroidery, craft and femininity, has meant that writers concerned with the status of women have often turned their attention towards this tangled, puzzling relationship. Feminists who have scorned embroidery tend to blame it for whatever constraint on women's lives they are committed to combat. Thus, for example, eighteenth-century critical commentators held embroidery responsible for the ill health which was claimed as evidence of women's natural weakness and inferiority.”

There are two basic problems I have with the trope, beyond the issue of it being incredibly cliché:

First: needlework was not just busywork

A big part of what drives the stereotype is the impression that what women were embroidering was either a sampler:

sampler embroidered by Jane Wilson, 14, in 1791 (MMA 2010.47)

or a picture:

unfinished embroidery of David and Abigail, British, 1640s-50s (MMA 64.101.1325)

That is, something meant to hang on the wall for no real purpose.

These are forms of schoolwork, basically. Samplers were made by young girls up to their early teens, and needlework pictures were usually something done while at school or under a governess as a showpiece of what was being learned - not just the stitching itself, but also often watercolors (which could be worked into the design), artistic sensibility, and the literature, history, or art that might be alluded to. And many needlework pictures made in schools were also done as mourning pieces, sometimes blank, for future use, and sometimes to commemorate a recent death in the family. A lot of them are awkward, clearly just done to pass the class, but others are really artwork.

Many schools for middle- and upper-class girls taught the making of these objects (and other “ornamental” subjects) alongside a more rigorous curriculum - geography, Latin, chemistry, etc. At some, sewing was also always accompanied by serious reading and discussion. (And it would often be done while someone read aloud or made conversation later in life, too.)

Once done with their education, women generally didn’t bother with purely decorative work. Some things that fabric could be embroidered for included:

Jackets 

Bed coverings and bedcurtains

Collars and undersleeves 

Pelerines 

Neck handkerchiefs and sleeve ruffles 

Screens

Upholstery

Handkerchiefs

Purses, wallets, and reticules

Boxes

Book covers

Plus other articles of clothing like waistcoats, caps, slippers, gown hems, chemises, etc. Women’s magazines of the nineteenth century often gave patterns and alphabets for personal use.

(Not to mention late nineteenth century female artists who worked in embroidery, but that’s something else.)

You could purchase all of these pre-embroidered, but many, many women chose to do it themselves. There are a number of reasons why: maybe they wanted something to do, maybe they felt like they should be doing needlework for moral/gender reasons, maybe they couldn’t afford to buy anything - and maybe they enjoyed it or wanted to give something they made to a person they loved. That firescreen above was embroidered by Marie Antoinette, someone who had any number of other activities to choose from. It’s no different than people today who like to knit their own hats and gloves or bake their own bread, except that it was way more mainstream.

embroidery patterns from Ackermann’s Repository in 1827 - they could be used on dresses, collars, handkerchiefs, etc.

Second: needlework wasn’t the only “useless” thing women were expected to do

Ignoring the bulk of point one for now and the value of embroidery - I mentioned “ornamental subjects” above. As many people know, young women of the upper and middle classes were expected to be “accomplished” in order to be seen as marriageable. This could include skills like embroidery, drawing, painting, singing, playing the piano (as well as other instruments, like the harp or the mandolin), speaking French (if not also Italian and/or German), as well as broader knowledge and abilities like being well-versed in music, literature, and poetry, dancing and walking gracefully, writing good letters in an elegant hand, and being able to read out loud expressively and smoothly.

This wasn’t a checklist. As the famous discussion in Pride and Prejudice shows, individuals could have different views on what actually made a woman accomplished:

“How I long to see her again! I never met with anybody who delighted me so much. Such a countenance, such manners! And so extremely accomplished for her age! Her performance on the pianoforte is exquisite.”

“It is amazing to me,” said Bingley, “how young ladies can have patience to be so very accomplished as they all are.”

“All young ladies accomplished! My dear Charles, what do you mean?”

“Yes, all of them, I think. They all paint tables, cover screens, and net purses. I scarcely know anyone who cannot do all this, and I am sure I never heard a young lady spoken of for the first time, without being informed that she was very accomplished.”

“Your list of the common extent of accomplishments,” said Darcy, “has too much truth. The word is applied to many a woman who deserves it no otherwise than by netting a purse or covering a screen. But I am very far from agreeing with you in your estimation of ladies in general. I cannot boast of knowing more than half-a-dozen, in the whole range of my acquaintance, that are really accomplished.”

“Nor I, I am sure,” said Miss Bingley.

“Then,” observed Elizabeth, “you must comprehend a great deal in your idea of an accomplished woman.”

“Yes, I do comprehend a great deal in it.”

“Oh! certainly,” cried his faithful assistant, “no one can be really esteemed accomplished who does not greatly surpass what is usually met with. A woman must have a thorough knowledge of music, singing, drawing, dancing, and the modern languages, to deserve the word; and besides all this, she must possess a certain something in her air and manner of walking, the tone of her voice, her address and expressions, or the word will be but half-deserved.”

“All this she must possess,” added Darcy, “and to all this she must yet add something more substantial, in the improvement of her mind by extensive reading.”

Mr. Bingley feels that a woman is accomplished if she has the ability to do a number of different arts and crafts. Miss Bingley feels (or says she feels) that it goes beyond specific skills and into branches of artistic attainment, plus broader personal qualities that could be imparted by well-bred governesses or mothers. And Mr. Darcy, of course, agrees with that but adds an academic angle as well.

But what ties all of these accomplishments together is their lack of value on the labor market. A woman could earn a living with any one accomplishment, if she worked hard enough at it to become a professional, but young ladies weren’t supposed to be professional-level good because they by definition weren’t going to earn a living. All together, they trained a woman for the social and domestic role of a married woman of the upper middle or upper class, or, if she couldn’t get married, a governess or teacher who would share her accomplishments with the next generation.

(To be fair, almost none of the trappings of an upper-middle/upper class male education had anything to do with the kind of career training that college frequently is today, either. Men were educated to know the cultural touchpoints of their class and fit in with their peers.)

There are reasons that an individual person/character might specifically object to embroidery, but it was far from the only “useless” thing that an unconventional heroine would be required to do against her inclination by her conventional mother/grandmother/aunt/chaperone. Embroidery stands out to modern audiences because most of the other accomplishments are now valued as gender-neutral arts and skills.

“The Embroidery Frame”, by Mathilde Weil, ca. 1900 (LOC 98501309)

So, some thoughts for writers of historical fiction (or fantasy that’s supposed to be just like the 19th/18th/17th/etc century):

- If your heroine doesn’t like embroidery, she probably doesn’t like a number of other things she’s expected to do. Don’t pull out embroidery as either more expected or more onerous than them. Does she hate to sit still? I’d imagine she also dislikes drawing and practicing the piano. Would she prefer to do academic subjects? She probably also resents learning French instead of Latin, and music and dancing. Does she hate enforced femininity? Then she’d most likely have a problem with all of the accomplishments.

- If your heroine just and specifically doesn’t like embroidery, try to show in the narrative that that’s not because it’s objectively bad, and only able to be liked by the boring. Have another sympathetic character do it while talking to the heroine. Note that the hero carries a flame-stitched wallet that’s his sister’s work. Emphasize the heroine’s emotional connection to her deceased or absent mother through her affection for clothing or upholstery that her mother embroidered - or through a mourning picture commemorating her. There are all kinds of things you can do to show that it’s a personal preference rather than a stupid craft that doesn’t take talent and skill!

mourning picture for Daniel Goodman, probably embroidered by a Miss Goodman, 1803 (MMA 56.66)

[ms-indifferwnt]

Clouds pt 1

Taeil

Boyfriend!Taeil x genderneutral!Reader

"Its your choice, pretend you don't know or go inside and confront them about this"

Warning: Cursing, Suggestive, Yelling, Angst, mention of mental harm 

Word Count: 5.4k

Note: Yayyy!!! 100 followers

Taeil and you probably take the cake for the most Clichè love story. The Best friends to lovers trope. Like seriously, you and Taeil have been friends since birth, technically, Your mom and his mom has been friends since college you see, met and gotten married to the love of their lives a year apart, gotten pregnant almost the same time and have birth a couple of months apart, so in reality, you and Taeil have been fated to be bestfriends 

When you were born six months apart after Moon Taeil, he and his family visited you and your mother in the Hospital while your dad was busy running around the hospital telling everyone he was a dad

Ofcourse you and Taeil had no memory of this but your mom’s were more than happy to introduce their children. Shipping the two of you since you were born

You were six years old, that was your first memory of Taeil, maybe because you always thought of him as the annoying kid that lives a block away who loves to pester you, you were playing with other kids when, your neighbor, Doyoungie (who you had affectionally nicknamed, bunnie at the time) had kicked the ball to your face you remembered that you cried as he said sorry. You were angry and hurt and Taeil was the only one who laughed at the scene but upon seeing your crying face he hugs you and holds your hand “Aww don’t cry, Y/n” he says happily “Lets go play more ok?”

Taeil’s first time thinking of you as someone more than the snotty brat he was forced to take care of was when you got lost, he didn’t have to take care of you then, but he thought he’d bring you along, he was five and you were turning four and he wanted to buy ice-cream,  you wanted ice-cream, so he took you along to that ice-cream shop by the corner. It wasn’t dangerous his mom was with you

He bought ice cream, two of them, knowing that you won’t be able to finish it so he can eat two ice-creams but the moment he turned he doesn’t see you. He panicked and started looking for you all over the shop, trying not to alert his mom but when all hope seemed lost, he started sobbing, where are they? are they hurt? They’re mom is gonna be so sad-

“Mooooom!” He cries and runs to his mother who holds the boy in her arms 

“Why are you crying what happened?”

“Y/n” He looks around “I cant find”

His mom smiles fondly at the boy “Are you worried?”

He nods “I’m supposed to protect them!” He cries and his mom coos gently carrying him and taking him out of the shop, placing him down

“ok, my strong boy” His mom says and kisses the top of his head, “look there” He obeys, with teary eyes only to spot you walking towards them with cotton candy in her hands and he pulled away from his mom to run to you

“Where were you?” He asked and held your face 

“Clouds” You claimed happily showing the cotton candy proudly to him

“You should’ve waited” He sniffled and you reached over to wipe his cheeks, he smiles, but didn’t stop you

“Sorry” You whisper and he nods opening his mouth so he can taste the clouds and you happily letting him take a bite

He looks up to see his mom and your dad grinning at the sight “Hi, Y/n’s dad” he waves and looks at you who was playing with the cloud on your hand “No, Y/n.” He takes it and bonks your head making you wince “you’ll get sticky-”

You and Taeil literally grew up side by side, He was there for you back in middle school when this girl bullied you because you and Taeil would always be together.

Taeil wasn’t happy the way that girl treated you but you always ignored her, she was just jealous that you were bestfriends with him, so you had a habit of holding him back whenever he was about to say something to her, or you try to anyway

“Taeil” you hissed and tugged on his shirt again once he stared down at her, of course you know Taeil is a big softie who cries over Hachiko, The dog that waited for his master by the train station despite his master dying, and that dog from I am Legend, so you know he really means no harm, its just, its his big brother instincts that make him fight anyone who attempts to harm you cause as he quotes “You’re an annoying little snot rag I had to take care of, So if anyone has the right to mentally harm you its me” and rewarded him with a kick to the shin “Lets just go, leave her be”

He looks at you and you smiled softly “We can go get clouds before we go home” you offered once he allows you to take him away, he raises an eyebrow at your words

“You’re fourteen and you still call them clouds?”

You roll your eyes “Cotton candy” you said in distaste “That is the most disgusting word I have ever heard of, Clouds on the other hand, sounds more magical”

He laughs “What about I start calling dumplings as meat pockets again?”

You made a face “What are you five?”

“I’m as cute as one”

“I hate Toddlers”

“No you don’t” He says and leads you to his bike, getting on it after handig you his backpack “You love kids”

You sat by the back, sitting on it with your legs to the side while you held on to his waist, pinching his side “No, I don’t”

He flinches and moves to swat your hands “Yes, you do, you love kids, you would play with them at the park whenever their parents are busy,” he points out and starts biking

“I have no idea what you’re taking about-”

“Look its Baby Yuri” he says saying the name of that child you were always so fond of

You perked “Where?” only to see that its an empty road and a laughter coming from him as a reminder that Baby Yuri’s house is far from here “Jerk” you glared at him and pinched him again, he swats your hand away “now hurry up and teach me how to read Morse codes” you said and held on to the back of his shirt

The time Taeil stopped thinking like you were his little sister was when you dated on your second year of high school. Yes, cliché, but, at first he didn't care, he congratulated you and helped look stunning, he wasn't bitter that you were trying to show off for someone else, or that you were nervous to go on a date with someone else (not true, he did care, he was bitter, he hated every minute of it)

Three months into your relationship, you were crying in Taeil's arms, cause, apparently you had a fight, cause you were to close to Taeil and your fight resorted to yelling and you attempting to kick them

So when you called him, but you didn’t speak, he just heard your heavy breathing he knows you were upset, he knows that you’re trying every thing to not cry, he knows that if you speak you just might, so, he spoke first “Yours or mine?” he stops about three seconds after the first choice so you can hum or grunt (whichever you had the energy to do), then he’ll know what your answer is

You grunted at his second offer, and he stands up from his bed to start cleaning up around the house, “Sure, come over, you want me to pick-” He looks at his phone and you declined the call, so you’ll be coming over yourself. 

He moves to get to work, cleaning up the mess and getting the snacks you like before you arrive, and when he was finished, there you were, on his porch, looking like you were about to kick his door in

He reaches out to hold your hand which you pulled it away and walked inside. He wasn’t offended, he knows why you don’t like the affection, he knows that you breakdown easily. The fact that you haven’t even teared up yet was amazing, but you aren’t outside, you aren’t alone, It’s Taeil, your bestfriend the boy that has been by your side all your life so he knows, you need a hug

He grabbed you by the arm to pull you into his chest, you gasped and attempted to push him away but he shushes you with a small affectionate kiss on your forehead, “its ok,” he whispers “I know you wanna be strong, so its ok, its just me, you did well, you’ve been so strong up until now” he holds you close that you tightened your grip on his shirt “Its just me, Let me be strong for you”

You cried into his chest that day, after his words. You would never admit it, but Taeil is probably the only one who has seen you cry, he doesn’t mind, he’s your Strength, he knows that, you know that, so when it gets too much Taeil lets you cry on him lets you take it out, he makes you feel taken care off And he wouldn’t have it any other way

He managed to calm you down, petting your hair and then he bonks you, making you look at him, tear stained cheeks, eyes bloodshot, he laughs as you rub your head “Feel better?”

“A bit, yeah”

He hums and pulls away “Go take a shower,” he moved to his cupboards and taking out a fresh towel, handing it to you, well actually he didn’t hand it, he fucking threw it to your face, and yeah it hurt, but it made you laugh and he smiles back “Go clean up, I’ll lend you some of my clothes” he sighs “again. Snotty,” He teases “You gotta return my clothes sometime today, the near future”

You smile “No, I like them, go buy new ones instead” 

He laughs “Brat, I need my clothes”

You pout and crossed your arms "You're gonna make me cry again, big brother" you called him that only when you want something, and yeah, it usually works, but something about being referred to as big brother 

He rolls his eyes and threw one of his sweatshirts to you making you yelp, “Shut up and go”

You obeyed, smiling softly at him. He stares at his hands, You haven’t called him Big Brother for a very long time and something about that made his blood boil

He just wishes he knows why. He’s been feeling like this for quite sometime, whenever you get to friendly or to close to someone, he has no idea if he should be angry at you or that person your talking to. 

He settled on the sofa with a sigh and looked at the tv, where the opening scene of your favorite show was paused, your favorite snacks on the coffee table. His ears perked when he heard the familiar sound of his bathroom door opening, you were done, he turned to see your figure disappear somewhere behind his house, he knows what you’re doing you were gonna hang the towel you borrowed, then you reemerged, hair still obviously wet (you didn’t bother to properly dry it, he guesses, again), leaving wet splotches on his sweatshirt. You went up the stairs, he smiles, he has a feeling you’ll get pillows from his room, he can hear the door of his room open, yup he is right.

He stood up to get the towel you hanged and walked back to the living room to see you eating the snacks while cuddling his pillow, He really does know you now. He throws the towel at you “Dry your hair properly, or shave your head” he points out and you sigh, doing as your told with a playful kick to his thighs

Once you were done he leaves to hang it again, when he returns and sees you, he smiles excitedly sitting beside you, and you play the movie

It was just a random movie that you accidentally started liking (he was ninety-nine percent sure you only like it cause Ewan McGregor, who you think is “surprisingly charismatic”, is in it). He wasn’t watching though, the movie wasn’t interesting, he was watching you, reading you body language and facial expression, checking if you really are feeling better

He didn’t realize how hard he was staring at you, ‘till both of your eyes met, he froze, you were so close, his heart skipped a beat, was it just him? or was your eyes always that sparkly?

You lift your hand and placed the snack against his lips, feeding him “take a bite so you’ll stop looking at me like a lost puppy”

He blushes and nods, taking a bite. Looking away, he held his hands. He is fucking screwed

You on the other hand found out you liked him around college. Unfortunately, you and Taeil have drifted apart over time. You don’t hang out as usual, he is studying a different major than you after all, it was only natural you both have other friends

You didn’t like it

Over time you and Taeil have been going through your own time, like getting your own apartments and campus that we want to be on, It doesn’t change, you and Taeil go to and from the Campus and Your houses around the same time since you are neighbors but when the two of you get to the Campus its like neither of you know each other 

Growing up with Taeil means, he was with you every waking moment and all of a sudden its gone, who will get used to that? He has been the person you grew with, who held yo while you were in pain and made you laugh when you were sad 

“I miss you” You whispered one time as you sat on to the passengers seat of his car when you both were heading home for the holidays “A lot” you whispered quiet enough so that he won’t hear but you were wrong

Ever since Taeil accepted the fact that he likes you he has become more insightful in things that upset you, and he can see (he doesn’t know why) but he can see how upset you were and hearing you say that, he didn’t mean it, but it gave him hope that you liked him too

That week Taeil climbed your window to wake you up, knocking on your window 'till you eventually woke up

You weren't exactly asleep, you were to busy looking at your hands, thinking about your Christmas dinner at the Moon Household, you and you're family was there except you and Taeil haven't even attempted to try and speak or approach each other and it only hurt you more when neither of you tried. You sat up and froze, seeing a shadowy figure by your window and your instincts went to overdrive and you opened your mouth to scream for your father

Taeil noticed your on guard position and he shakes his head, knocking against your window in a pattern that he wishes to every one holy that you remember

“Da-” you stopped midway once you hear the knocking looking at the figure, you realized it was Morse code, you listened as the figure tapped the glass, long tap, pause, That’s a ‘T’ tap, long tap, pause, And that’s an ‘A’ tap, pause, what is that one again? Tap, Tap, pause, I remember this one its an ‘I’ tap, long tap, tap, tap

You looked at the figure “Taeil?” you asked and opened the window, Taeil climbing in letting out a sigh of relief “What the hell are you doing here?”

He laughs “I was bored,” You frowned and sat on your bed, glaring at the boy making him raise both his hands in defense “I’m kidding, don’t hit me”

You rolled your eyes and lied sown on the bed “Yeah well, leave, I was sleeping” facing away from him

“We both know you weren’t”

“shut up”

He smiles and taps your thigh over the blanket “Scoot over, I had a nightmare, don’t wanna sleep alone”

You turned to look at him “What are you five?”

“Is that a no?” He asks with a sly smile, holding the blanket up so he can join you when you agree

You sighed, scooting to the side and he slides in beside you “Big baby”

He laughs, but covered his mouth to not wake your parents “I didn’t really have a nightmare” he whispered and moves to tuck an arm underneath his head as you copy his movements, the two of you facing each other “You were avoiding the at the party”

You scoffed “No, you were avoiding me” you huffed

“Are you ok?” He asked reaching up to swipe the hair that covers your face “You’ve been extremely quiet”

You yawned, you felt safe I his presence to even fall asleep to it, you couldn’t help but smile softly at the action “I’m ok” you lied, closing your eyes

“Don’t lie to me” he says, he has known you long enough to know when you lie and he won’t let it pass “I wanna help you”

“There’s nothing you can do”

“There will be if you tell me”

“Taeil”

“Y/n” 

You opened your eyes only to see him staring at you, with worry and care “I hate you”

He smiles, and you felt your cheeks warm up at the sight “No you don’t” You rolled your eyes and he nods “Tell me when you’re ready, but for now” he takes her free hand in a promise “I won’t leave your side, and don’t leave mine”

You looked at him, the at your hands, before nodding “Promise?”

He nods “Promise” He smiles as he watches you yawn “Get some sleep, ok?”

“Ok” you whisper and start to doze off “That’s all I ever wanted,” you whisper “I miss you” you whisper and fall asleep

Taeil’s heart was beating rapidly against his chest, miss him? what is that supposed to mean? was that even supposed to mean anything? And he was aware that your hands are still intertwined, he blushes, and holds it tighter, afraid of letting go. He watches you sleep this time, glad to see you peaceful, seeing you always made him happy, but sometimes knowing that you will never return these feelings, made him so weak that he wants to do nothing but lie in bed, he closes his eyes,  his finger tapping mindlessly on your pillow

L-O-V-E Y-O-U

You and Taeil are still very much a bestfriends. And you two hang out majority of the time since Lee Taeyong, someone from Taeil's group of friends, and Suh Johnny, the American exchange student you became friends with started dating

So bam! You and Taeil were automatically the third wheel, which was fun since you two were already friends, everyone was talking and playing around while you and Taeil were speaking to other people. Taeil looks at you as you fed Jungwoo the tart you ordered and Taeil had to bite his tongue from saying something to the innocent boy

He starts tapping against the table as he looks through his phone, hoping you could understand the Morse code despite how loud the surroundings were

You did. And you couldn’t stop smiling, Fid me 2, He spelled, Feed you? and you understood, you must tease the boy “Ew” you said aloud so he’ll hear and he huffs making you laugh

“Aww I didn’t know you guys can read each other minds” Yuta teases and kicks Taeil under the table 

Taeil shrugs “We’re that close”

You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance but you smiled at Taeil as he focuses on other people, joking and playing with them

“I’m hungry” Taeyong says making everybody listen to him, and Johnny nodding 

“What do you wanna eat my love?” He asks and you gagged, making him elbow you 

Taeyong chuckled and nodded “something sweet” he starts and hums

Johnny looks at everyone as they start suggesting food, Johnny and Taeyong turn down some till Taeil spoke “What about clouds?”

The whole room turned quiet and you stared at the boy in front of you, wide eyed while the room started to rumble with questions

“What the fuck is a cloud?”

“We’re talking about food Taeil”

“Taeil, are you stoned?”

“Since when can you eat clouds?”

You bursted out laughing once he starts to redden from your friends words before glaring at you “Y/n help me” You shake your head still too busy laughing, he growls “Its nothing, its an inside joke, you guys wouldn’t understand!” he huffs and lean against his chair, crossing his arms 

Your laughter died sown as you stared at him, his eyes meeting yours and you blushed, taking a bite of your tart, Why are you blushing? you asked yourself, Why is your heart beating so fast? you might pass out if it continues, surely you don't like Taeil, TAEIL of all people, not him

“Y/n did you hear me?” Jungwoo says making you look at him and apologetically shake your head making him chuckle “I asked when you started liking him”

“I don’t”

He raises his eyebrow “Oh really? cool, cause I have this friend who wants me to set them up with Taeil”

You glared at him “Do you wanna die?” you asked annoyed

He laughs and winks “I will once you admit of your feelings” 

You kicked him, then you hear the table buzz, looking up to see someone approach Taeil, shyly offering him a box, “I,” They smiles, cheeks painted red and you couldn’t help but glare at the new comer “I got you some chocolates, I hope you like them”

Taeil bows and takes the chocolates, and you look away, while Jungwoo looks at you, with a sly grin, and you point a threatening finger at him “Not a word”

Taeil and you confessed in the least romantic way possible, but you loved it all the same, granted you both fought, but it was cute and emotional all the same

He mindlessly played with the flashlight, switching it on and off against his wall, you were asleep on his bed cause you had a fight with your dad about a boy and you decided that sleeping over at Taeil's for the night wouldn't be that bad, so while you slept you lent hi your phone cause his was broken, why? easy, you threw it against the wall cause he wouldn't turn off his alarm "You dance to this shit Y/n" "I don't mind breaking your arm too"

So there he was switching your phone's flashlight on and off after he got bored spamming your gallery with his face. He was a little out of it, but he knows you're awake "You'll drain my battery" you murmured

"It'll charge" He mutters "My phone on the other hand" he says a bit snappy

You pout "I said I'm sorry, and I'm repairing it ok?"

He shrugs and continued going though your phone

You sat up and leaned your forehead against his back "I'm tired I wanna nap again"

"And I wanna date you, we don't get what we want"

You looked up at him so fast that you thought you'd have whiplash "What?" you’re heart beating against your chest

He smiled slyly, trying his best to not blush and moving away from you “End scene” He laughs and playfully winks at you, he chickened out, he hates how angry he has been these past couple of weeks, he hates seeing other people approach and flirt with you, he hates being the subject when you call someone your bestfriend or your older brother, he hates how he can’t push people who wanna keep you away cause he has no right. He hates that it was starting to hurt to look at you, to think about you, its not fair that he likes you and you’ll never be in his arms the way he wants you to. He hates how you’re seeing someone, and it isn’t him. He hates the fact that he loves you, why out of all people, he could love, why you?

“Taeil!” You raised your eyebrow and your voice “What the heck was that supposed to mean “You were kidding?” you didn’t mean it, but sounded so offended and sad, does Taeil really like you? your heart thumped at a quick pace when he looks at you, searching your face for answer

He gulps “why?” he asks facing you “What if I wasn’t?

You stared at him processing “Well-” He moves to tilt his head waiting for you to answer him, you retaliated by hitting him on the shoulder “You didn’t answer me asshole”

He looks at your phone not answering, not fiddling with anything except the morse code app you had in there, turning the sound and you can hear the message

-.-- . ... / -.-- . ... /-.-- . ... 

“What the heck is ‘yes’ supposed to mean?” You started as he starts pressing the app to send you another message and you groaned “just tell me”

.. -- / -.- .. -.. -.. .. -. --. / .. -- / -.- .. -.. -.. -- -. --.

“I’m Kidding?” You read aloud and scrunched your nose “What the heck is that supposed to be? Tell me Taeil!” you yelled and moved slap your phone away from him when he tries to type a new code “Tell me, do you like me or not?” he stares at you “Was it a joke or were you serious?”

He looks at you in shock as you angrily told him those words, why were the you taking this seriously? you don’t like him, right? then why are you so angry? why is it affecting you? “What’s it have to do with you?” 

“Taeil just tell me”

“Why do you need to know if its a joke or not?”

“Just tell me”

“Why? You’re dating someone right now right? why do you need to know?”

“Taeil I’m not..”

“No, tell me why” You opened your mouth when your phone on the floor of Taeil’s room started buzzing, speak of the devil, your phone flashed with his name and it mad Taeil’s blood boil even more when you stood up to take your phone, he grabbed it from your hands before you could answer and threw it to the side, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back on the bed, keeping you there, a hand on your wrist and the other on your waist “Tell me”

You glared at him gripping his collar “What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked angrily “You’ve been salty ever since I asked if I could stay over! You don’t want me here? That’s fine, tell me, you don’t need to let me stay when you clearly don’t want me here!” You’re chest heaved and he could tell you’re just starting “you wanna know why I want to know the truth from you? Cause I care for you more then what a friend, a sibling should do. I hate seeing you with Kim Kochan or Lee Robin those two flirt with you on a basis, you know that right? they cling and keep you all for themselves and I hate it! I hate how fast my heart beats when you smile or when you buy me snacks cause they’re my-”

He cuts you off with a swift kiss to your lips. How could he not, you just confessed you liked him albeit angrily, you still confessed. His lips moved slowly against yours and you froze, your mind on hyperdrive, ‘till he pulled away “I like you too but you’re really loud when you’re upset, we shou-”

You rolled your eyes and pulled his collar, making him crash into you, kissing him again, this time you slowly moved your lips against his, his hands snaking around your waist, to pull you closer, your arms wrapping around his neck

He licks your bottom lip, you groaned softly and he happily sticks his tongue in, gently brushing over your tongue, making you slightly whine and he grins, keeping hold of your as you both play tongue-sies

He pulls away, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you both before he groans softly at the sight “I love you” he breathes before leaning to trail kisses down your jaw and neck making you tilt your head upward giving him more room. He smiles at the shudder before gripping your waist and pulling on it to make you go up and straddle him “Taeil” you gasped at how bold he was being and he chuckles 

“Say it” he whispers against your ear licking a stripe on it while a hand travels under your shirt making you gasp at the coldness of his hand and the heat of your body, and he smiles “Please? Need to hear you say it”

“Really at a situation like this?” You huff and he only grins at you making you whine “I’ll tell you later, ok?” You tugged on his shirt, in a silent way to command him to do something, and only met with a shake of his head “Taeil” You whined again “fine, I love you too you big dork”

He smiles and happily kissed you again, holding you close before taking your shirt off and giving you everything you asked, encouraging him with every tug of his hair, a gasp and a moan of his name. He was addicted, he never wanted to stop to make you so whiny and needy and putty in his arms

He was happy that night, well dawn, finally having you in his arms, your neck covered in nothing but his marks, and he can see from his position your bruised waist. Oh and his hair, it was in pain, from the way you would pull and tug on it but he loved it, only reminding him that it was all real, his arms and shoulders were bruised but he just smiles at the slight sting before tightening his hold on your waist and kissing the shell of your ear

“No more” you whined and pouted “Please? I am so tired” you begged cupping his cheeks and he couldn’t help it he kissed your palms 

“Stop” he bit his lip and looked at you all wide eyed, seeing your expression, your marks and looking absolutely fucked that he swung his legs over and kissed your nose “Just, just one more, ok? one more round”

“Dad!” Taeil grumbled “Are you serious right now?”

His dad nods “Yes” He points a finger at his chest “Don’t get me wrong, I don’t care if you are sleeping around, as long as you don’t get STD’s or have a failing grade” He reminds “But any other than that, you’re free to do anything you want. You’re mother and I back in college, we had out share of fun”

Taeil covers his ears “no! no no, I don’t need to know, I don’t need to know my birth story, I don't need to know how sexy mom was, I am seriously going to run away screaming”

“Stop being a baby” His dad says and hits him upside the head, “I’m just saying, when you would sleep with someone, you stay over their place not the other way around, so I was wondering who is that? My son’s special someone? and also, I heard everything lastnight so I’m pretty sure it is a special person, and I wanted to ask if they’ll stay the morning cause, It’s my turn to make breakfast and I wanna know if I should add one more serving”

All of a sudden an excited squeal leaves his mother’s lips as she excitedly ran down the stairs and tackled Taeil “I am so proud of you” She praises and kisses him on the forehead “So so Proud”

“What happened?” His dad asks and She spins to look at her husband 

“It’s Y/n”

He blinks and looks at his son then his wife, around the same time the mom clinged once again to Taeil, “I have been shipping you both since you two were in the womb, I waited twenty one years for the two of you to get together” she squeals and hugs him “Even better you both slept with each other, Honey, cook an extra serving for Y/n. And Taeil good job, satisfying your partners needs in bed is much more important, I approve”

“Mom!” Taeil groans 

“Do you think Their parent’s know? we should invite them , lets go invite them!”

Part 2

[alixofagnia]

OpheThorn III: Back to Rambling

The Memory of Babel…Wow.

If nothing else, this book GOES. We’re dropped onto Babel just as lost, bewildered, and determined as Ophelia to get to the bottom of this ark. Boy, was it worth the wait! Babel is exquisitely written and, incredible as it sounds, even more treacherous than the Pole. The backbone Ophelia shows in this book is awesome! I love that she’s taken the measure of her worth—all the things she’s been through and survived in the previous novels—and come out resilient As Fuck. This book is definitely a penultimate novel. Dazzling as it is, much of it feels like groundwork being laid for the finale.

OpheThorn is less nuanced and ambiguous in Babel. While I feel there’s less to analyze, I do really love this pairing and I like writing about their dynamic. So, I’m just going to put my thoughts down and see what comes up!

[There will be spoilers]

[All fanart images credited to @patricialyfoung​]

Intro

One of the things that drew me into The Mirror Visitor series is the relationship between Ophelia and Thorn. Theirs is not a traditional love story at all; in fact, it avoids clichés and instead plays about with two romantic tropes: enemies to lovers and marriage of convenience. The series spins these tropes anew by offering subtle signs of attraction (discussed here) and giving both characters antisocial tendencies, as well as—in Thorn’s case—possible ASD traits (discussed here).

When we left these two in Clairdelune, Thorn had just put his feelings on the table. Before she could give her response, however, they were separated under upsetting, even traumatic circumstances. Years later, we meet Ophelia again…

Ophelia

…and, oh dear, she is in a sorry state indeed. We find her disastrously operating a waffle stand during a kooky Animist festival for, of all things, clocks. Just what the girl pining for Thorn needs, right? All is not well with Ophelia. As Aunt Rosaline points out,

“No, you’re not fine. You don’t go out anymore, you eat any old thing, you sleep at any old time. You haven’t even been back to the museum.” [19]

Although her mother, sister, and to an extent Aunt Rosaline all believe Ophelia is wasting away, shutting herself in her room, she’s actually been quite busy. She’s been studying and developing working hypotheses about God and the Other: where they are, there she’ll find Thorn. She’s convinced of it. Working from obscure clues dropped in Clairdelune, Ophelia settles on Babel as the ark most likely to yield some answers, and when the chance to travel there appears, she wastes no time at all.

She. Is. Going.

Thorn

In Babel, Thorn has made a name for himself as Sir Henry, rising to become a Lord of LUX, the gatekeepers of Babel who serve a similar function to that of the Doyennes on Anima. He is commanding, magnetic, and aloof as ever. It is unsurprising to find that he has been playing close to the fire again. But the stress and tension of his investigative life on Babel is certainly heightened in a way that it wasn’t at the Pole. 

We also learn that his nickname in Babel is the Automaton due to his unceasing energy. Thorn, thus, has dealt with the separation by predictably burying himself in work.

The Reunion

To Ophelia’s disappointment, the reunion with Thorn does not go quite as she had envisioned, and that’s because she hadn’t really envisioned past the goal of finding him [203]. Ophelia is very much a character who takes things one at a time as she’s confronted by them. When Thorn seems less than pleased to see her, she must consider all these Troublesome Feelings and why his underwhelming reaction upsets her.

The thing is Ophelia is waiting for Thorn to take the lead. But he already did, and she didn’t follow—at least, not in a way that he could understand. As previously discussed, Thorn does not function well with non-verbal cues. He needs to be explicitly told how someone else feels, or how he is making someone else feel, in order to know when to adjust his behavior. That can be quite flustering, especially for someone like Ophelia who struggles to vocalize her feelings exactly as they are.

“Is that it?” Ophelia murmured. “You have nothing more to say to me?”

 “I have, actually,” Thorn muttered, not stopping all his connecting. […] “And you?” he finally asked, in turn. “You have nothing more to say to me?” [263]

She doesn’t. Thorn coldly dismisses her and continues to keep her at arm’s length, especially when he gives her a second chance to confess her feelings and she still refuses to take it. 

Ophelia has social anxiety. She’s not exactly shy, she just gets tongue-tied and befuddled sometimes. It’s part of her make-up, but it doesn’t just happen around Thorn—there are plenty of instances where she has trouble expressing herself to those she cares about, such as Ambrose and Blaise in this novel, or Fox in Clairdelune. She even struggles to express basic gratitude toward Aunt Rosaline in Promise. Unlike them, Thorn challenges her to uncomfortable levels. Her feelings for him are complex and utterly foreign; she has no idea what to do about them. 

Unfortunately, Thorn is fresh out of fucks to give over her see-saw act. He’s well-past this stage of confusion and cowardice she’s experiencing because he’s been in love with Ophelia since Promise (“I’m starting to get used to you”) and dealt with the ramifications of that in Clairdelune (“I don’t give a damn whether people find me suspect, as long as I am not so in your eyes.”). 

Thorn does nothing half-heartedly. In no uncertain terms, he left her with the bluntest of blunt confessions (“By the way, I love you.”), which was a milestone in his emotional growth. It is clear that he does not love frivolously or casually in the way of his foil, Archibald, so for him, nothing has changed in three years. Likely, he thinks this should be obvious to Ophelia, and it probably should be at this point. He’s done all he can, after all, what more can she want? From his perspective, it’s Ophelia’s turn to make a move, not his.

Ophelia, though, functions differently. She has always needed verbal reinforcement and reassurance. That need has been heightened by their long separation. Essentially, they’re out of touch with one another and, in Ophelia’s case, she’s completely out of touch with herself, which is why when prompted by Thorn she doesn’t provide an answer, even though there could be only one reason for her going to Babel. Things finally come to a head when Thorn loses all patience and replaces her as his assistant. Ophelia is pissed.

“You weren’t available. Waiting for you would have slowed me down in my research.”

“Slowed you down? For your information, I was also doing research of my own. It might interest you to learn…”

“Of your own, that’s precisely the problem,” he interrupted her. “I advised you never to leave your division, and you were supposed to warn me if you discovered anything new. Nothing has changed, you still always make your decisions alone.”

“I wanted to help you,” Ophelia hissed, through gritted teeth.

“I don’t want any of your finer feelings. I need efficiency. If you don’t mind, I now have a flight to take.”

Ophelia’s blood ignited in her every vein. “You’re an egoist.” She had wanted to anger Thorn, and she knew, by the way he had frozen on the spot, that she had succeeded. All the shadows of the night suddenly seemed to  have been drawn to the center of his face. He threw Ophelia a look so hard, she reeled from its impact.

“I am demanding, a killjoy, obsessive, antisocial, and crippled,” he intoned, in a forbidding voice. “You can put all the defects in the world on me, but I will not permit you to call me an egoist. If you prefer to do things your way, go ahead, but don’t waste my time anymore. Our collaboration is over.” [305]

OMG, this is harsh. But it’s the kick in the ass Ophelia needs. Since taking up a secret identity as Eulalia and aspiring to become a Forerunner (essentially a scholar and a scribe), she’s already been confronted by the fact that she’s not as good a researcher as she’s prided herself on. Now, she’s being confronted by the suggestion that she’s not a very good partner, either. It leaves her feeling “drier than dust.” [321]

I think it’s interesting how Thorn’s dialogue here has a double meaning. He’s talking about their partnership as an investigative team, of course. But it just as easily applies to their personal relationship. He can’t keep waiting around for Ophelia to make up her mind. He’s got a God to hunt down, an Other to face. Having to wonder about where he stands with Ophelia is getting to be too much. By once again haranguing off on her own, Ophelia has made it plain to him that she prefers to do things without him. In his eyes, she’s pushing him away.

Eventually, she is able to see this perspective and she is ashamed to realize how badly she’s held Thorn to a double standard. He gave of himself through words and gestures as far as he was able, while she gave him nothing in return. Finally, FINALLY, Ophelia fully expresses her love for Thorn and, as he once did, asks him to forgive her shortcomings. It’s a very sweet scene, I must say.  

Now, to go back for a moment, what’s really gutting about Ophelia calling Thorn an egoist is this:

“God said he would keep his eyes on you,” he muttered, in a choked voice. “Right in front of me. I make a lamentable husband, but I permit no one, particularly him, to persecute my wife. It’s impossible for me to tear you away from God, but I can tear him away from you. If a book exists that contains God’s secret, and allows his invulnerability to be punctured, I will find it.” [392]

For context, Ophelia had admonished Thorn for his dogged pursuit of this quest, expressing outrage that he should be doing this for a world that’s done nothing for him. At one time, yes, Thorn may have been acting in the interest of the world. Then, he met Ophelia (who is too curious for her own good) and he met God. God threatened her, and Thorn is not a man who could allow such a thing to go unpunished, no matter the consequence. Ever since they met—through every consideration, every move in this impossible investigation and despite each rejection from her—he’s been acting out of love for Ophelia. 

As Thorn said, he is not an egoist.

The Blind Spot

After their “egoist” argument, Ophelia feels instant regret and tries to stop Thorn from walking away. She doesn’t succeed, however, because she is struck by his claws. At first, she believes he may have done this on purpose, the thought of which really scares her because it indicates that Thorn is absolutely done with her.

Later, after she finally makes her confession, we all learn that, in fact, Thorn has lost a bit of control over his family power. He has no idea that he used his claws on Ophelia. I’m a little bit unsure what caused this vulnerability—I don’t really follow the given reason, so I’m wondering if Thorn doesn’t quite know himself why this has come to be.

My theory is more euphemistic. Ophelia had reached out to touch his turned back and the gesture badly startled him. He overreacts then overcorrects, and they both take a memorable tumble. Thorn explains:

“Never again accost me from behind my back or from any of my blind spots. Don’t do any movement that I can’t see coming in advance, or then warn me out loud.” [389]

He further explains that he can retain control as long as his claws don’t perceive her as a threat and asks her not to be absent-minded with him. I think it’s entirely plausible that his control over his Dragon power has weakened due to his deep emotion regarding Ophelia. I also feel that this speaks closely to their recent conflict as well as Thorn’s coding as autistic. It’s like Thorn is saying, “No more hide and seek. No more games. Tell me straight, or not at all.”

Ophelia knows how deep his passions run. She once held his dice and thought she might die under the weight and intensity of his emotions. Perhaps it is her Animism that has wrought this change in him. Perhaps it is simply her existence. Either way, she can no longer afford to be careless when it comes to Thorn’s feelings. In the final chapter, Ophelia and Thorn have a true heart to heart, reaffirming their partnership. But Thorn has something to add.

“No half-measures,” he interrupted her. “I’m not and do not wish to be your friend.” [445]

What he leaves unspoken is that he wants to be her husband, in every version of the role: Partner. Protector. Lover. Now that Ophelia has given him an answer, Thorn is comfortable leading them forward and it is the role of lover that he specifically has in mind. Considering this is probably the first time he’s ever propositioned a woman for sex, he is understandably quite awkward. Ophelia quickly realizes that she’s added to his inner turmoil by repressing her own sexuality around him and inadvertently making him feel less than attractive. She also understands that she, too, wants to be his wife in every version of that role: Partner. Protector. Lover. What follows is a really beautiful expression of honest acceptance and true value.

Desire

My dudes, our girl is constantly at risk of exploding (or maybe imploding?) with desire in this book. It’s consuming her, emptying her, and driving every atom of her being. Look at this!

Ophelia had received no news from Thorn after his escape. Not a single telegram, not a single letter. She could keep telling herself that he couldn’t run the risk of making contact, that he was a man wanted by the law, perhaps by God himself, but it was eating her up inside. [22]

Whenever she crossed a man who was a bit taller than average, she couldn’t stop herself from looking back as she passed, with a frantic pounding in her chest. [83]

Ophelia would have recognized his voice out of a thousand. The resonance of a double bass, solemn and sullen, that echoed through her inner emptiness, shook her to the core, welled up to her throat, choked her. [240]

She waited until her heartbeat, taxed by the run, had returned to normal. But it didn’t happen. Her entire flesh seemed to be pulsating to a single chaotic rhythm. This evening, she would see Thorn again. [249]

She wanted to be with Thorn right there, right now. She’d wanted that every second of every minute of every hour, for almost three years. [249]

Although she knew the temperature of this place was strictly maintained at minus eight degrees, Ophelia felt as if it were fifteen degrees warmer. Never in her life had she cared about appearances, and yet she ran a nervous hand through her hair to tidy it up. [253]

She suddenly realized that there wasn’t much she would have refused him, had he but asked. [278]

Instead, he disinfected his hands for a second time, as if they really were repulsive. They weren’t in Ophelia’s eyes. From a distance, she took in the network of veins under the skin, the long, curved fingers, the bone that          rose up on each wrist, and suddenly, she felt something like pain in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t the slightest idea what was happening to her, but looking at those hands made her want to scream. [283]

She felt it again, even more violently, this urgent call from deep inside her. [446]

Ophelia is so horny and I’m so here for it!

Closing Thoughts

Do I think Ophelia’s internal conflict over Thorn is drawn out? Yes. 

Do I think it’s contrived? No.

I think it falls in line with Ophelia’s characterization and I think Thorn’s frosty reaction to her presence in Babel falls in line with his characterization. These characters aren’t perfect: Ophelia is quirky and endearing, but that doesn’t make her immune to cowardice; Thorn is highly skilled and competent but is deficient socially and sometimes emotionally. I can’t emphasize enough how well Christelle Dabos knows her characters and allows them to be who they are rather than force them to make weird changes to fill plot holes.  

We can’t forget, either, the fact that they have been completely cut off from one another for years. Yes, we might think in that time Ophelia could have done more to sort out her feelings. But as we’ve seen, she just doesn’t focus on more than what she can handle at a time. She always thinks in terms of breaking a problem down into steps. The first step was following up on those clues from Claridelune. The second step was finding Thorn. The last step was dealing with herself. 

Their relationship here, which has progressed in a way that felt natural and believable, is the most straightforward it has ever been. That made writing about them this time around kind of hard, actually, because it’s all plainly there in the text. For me, I think the notable takeaway is being able to mark just how far these two characters have come in their individual and mutual journeys. Now and together, they can tackle the gargantuan, perilous task ahead. It might all end on a bittersweet note. But for this couple…that seems about right, and I can’t wait to read the conclusion.

Thank you so much for reading these long posts and leaving such kind feedback! I’m glad that you, too, enjoy Ophelia, Thorn, and this magical series.