#i want it to exist to examine who is this character
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I think the best way to describe how I feel about Jinx and Viktor together is that he pulls her up while she pulls him down, and they both end up on the same level.
#arcane#jinx arcane#viktor arcane#I'll probs talk about this more later#i think people focus on relationships for jinx as a means to “redeem” her character#while not even taking the time to dissect her character#they same can be said for viktor#i don't want a dynamic to exist for the sake of “fixing” on of the two#i want it to exist to examine who is this character#what are they capable of and would they do it#i want dynamics that bring out both characters' traits good AND bad#instead of one playing morality pet to the other#jinx and viktor#viktor and jinx
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Lineup of all of the characters that appear long enough to need a visual representation of them in the game lol
#I added a few people that you can randomly run into around town (like at the inn or in the forest or etc) and have very short conversations#with just to kind of flesh out the world a little more in a more natural-ish seeming way. Like nobody in the main cast would really#have much reason to talk about the actual city you're in or anything. Since most of them havent lived there that long anyway.#But if there's a ''city inspector'' that you can run into whilst he's writing up notes examining the local inn. then maybe there could be a#few dialogue options with him where you can ask about things like that. since he would know more about the area as an offical Government#Worker or etc. Optional of course. since I have to be so wary of my natural inclination to lore dump lol and am trying extra hard to make i#all stuff thats easily avoided/skipped. But for the people like ME who deliberately choose to exhaust every possible optional dialogue#option and explore every single inch of the world and try to collect as much information as possible - then there are a few extra places to#do that. Though obviously not all of them just give exposition for like 15 paragraphs blandly. Some you don't really learn anything from#and it's kind of just.. random flavor to make the non-shop map locations more ''lived in'' feeling. Like the random#little girl you can talk to in the park doesn't bizarrely start reading out the wikipedia description of some War that happened 10 years ag#or whatever. she's just complains about school a little and asks if you've tried the nearby ice cream cart treats and etc lol#ANYWAY..#some of the art is so so evil but I'm not going to spend 800 years trying to clean it up and update it. whatever the hell mess I sketched#out in 2018 or whatever is just what I'm keeping lol... it is what it is#One of the many trials of the whole 'briefly work a few months on something and then abandon it almost entirely only to pick up work#on it literally like 4 - 5 yrs later and now you must contend with trying to decipher whatever weird shit you did years ago' experience lol#Also given the population breakdowns of the world in general I think there's an unrealistic amount of jhevona in this lineup since#they're a much rarer species to just see out and about anywhere but.. it IS a global trading center type area. and the game#takes place in the north (the country of Asen. near the coast. for the maybe 2 or less people who actually keep up with my worldbuilding#enough to know where that is lol (the same continent as Navyete (where the avirre'thel live)) and there's a decent concentration#of nothern jhevona only a short ways away so... tee hee..I shall pretend it makes sense and not merely me just wanting#to represent more of that species because I think their lore is interesting lol#I MEAN also realistically there would NOT be a human here because humans are extremely isolated species that don't even know the rest#of the world exists really and human territories are extremely protected from the outside world but... of course it's like.. well we need#at least One of them to be there for the Optional Lore. Same with the Ythrili. But at least those are like.. PLAUSIBLE.. not nonsensically#outlandish. If I had a Verrucalt or something in there THEN that would be truly lore-breaking almost lol#ANYWAY.. rambling that only means anything to me because nobody else knows what I'm even referencing but hbjh#also I think my character designs are so funny in the sense that I really do just love to do the same thing over and over again ghbjh#wow... random asymmetry and belts and arm straps and high collars where the neck is completely covered?? you dont say..how novel
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i hate when things are only advertised through their genre or worse a sub genre or really broad identifier like oh it’s gothic and gay is it good and if it was sold without the one specific core or whatever would you actually like it
#personal#halloween makes this worse bc every ad is like this is for my real creepy goth core girlies and it’s like. a pumpkin pun shirt#it’s just i rlly just want good things 😭😭😭😭😭😭#like do i like gothic and gay shit. yes. but here’s the thing#i was a weird kid who wanted to be a medical examiner and thought the girls on law and order should kiss bc they’re so pretty#i liked those things and they happen to fall in those genres. if watching dead animal decompose was preppy i’d be considered preppy#like you can like what you like you don’t gotta individually label it and make sure any future personality traits mesh well with it#you can just exist#also everytime i see something advertised as gay leaves a bad taste#like cool that would have been a. good selling point a decade ago what’s the plot. do they have characters outside of being gay.#is the gay part of it the whole story and the rest of the plot molds around that. is it steven universe gay#lots of things to consider just make good media and make it gay
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Why the hell is JJK 270 called Dream's End?
JJK 270 being titled Dream’s End is so fudging ominous. That’s some Umineko type beat. I’m not sure if I should even judge this chapter as presented because of this. In fact, I'm holding off on posting the other analysis I had for today since I no longer am certain of what JJK 268–270 are.
There's two lines of thought I have:
1) Gege suffering from burnout and bad working conditions plus rushing has caused the writing to decline.
2) Gege still has a hidden ace saved for the final chapter and the weird writing is deliberate.
I'm going to humor Option 2, but only because the title of this chapter is called Dream's End.
(The most 'hear me out' discussion under the cut. Using TCB scans and leaks. Click images for captions/citations.)
[Small Update: Follow-up Discussion on why everyone feels OOC.]
Preface
"Without love it cannot be seen."
This is a phrase and philosophy I have borrowed from Umineko since I've started these JJK yapfests. It essentially boils down to 'discard your negative biases and try to examine things in good faith.'
JJK 268 & 269 have fudging tested that for me. I've been giving Gege and the characters a pretty hard time with the caveat of knowing how exploitative the manga industry is. I initially rejected the idea that these chapters were to be taken at anything other than face-value because of this. In fact, I cited the JJK 268 chapter title of Finale as a reason I've accepted things as is.
And with that same logic, I'm now doing the opposite... So hear me out! I've got some pretty good reasons to be doing this.
What's wrong with JJK 268–270?
There's a lot of things in these chapters that are fundamentally inconsistent with what's been established in throughout the manga. If we use Option 1 to explain these contradictions, these are last second retcons because Gege forgor.
Option 2? We're about to have the rug pulled the hell out from under us because the last 3 chapters have been delusions.
What first tipped me off to something possibly being wrong on purpose was the fate of the incarnated culling game players in JJK 270. Not too long ago it was established that the souls of non-sorcerers in vessels were unsavable.
The souls are suppressed in a way that distorts them permanently or their consciousness is outright destroyed. They were gambling on Megumi's survival due to him being a sorcerer and Sukuna's incarnation method being unique. 99% of them will die and those who survive will likely be vegetables, so why is there a sudden gamble on their survival in JJK 270?
It's such a neat and fine bow to tie this mess up that goes directly against existing lore. It's so ideal that it has me suspicious.
Brain damage from sorcery on non-sorcerers has been established as extremely taxing. I think about Gojo's Unlimited Void (UV) the most when it comes to this. Non-sorcerers were hit by it for 0.2 seconds and required medical intervention for 2 months to fully heal from it. Sukuna, the absolute strongest, tanked some of it and it affected him for the rest of the battle. ...And then we have Megumi who was under it for about 6 minutes and seems to have very little problems from it.
This is bizarre. Someone who underwent the month long bath and UV without Reverse Curse Technique (RCT) should be struggling to even stand after waking up. Sukuna had RCT and the Gojo brain damage still took him out. This screams of inconsistent writing unless...this is a deliberate hint that something is amiss.
I want to draw attention to the panel Megumi's UV damage is addressed. Just about everyone has been seemingly waiting around in the same spot for him to wake up. It's a bit weird given that sorcerers don't usually do that. They usually get a move on asap. And after the destruction of Shinjuku and the Culling Game Players still running about, why would they take a breather to discuss their plans that worked?
But that's not what started bothering me about that panel after reading JJK 270. It's that characters who aren't in the room, start appearing without warning. Look who is behind Maki and to the left. It's Kusakabe. And to her and Yuta's right? Inumaki. So why is it that Hakari, Kiara, and Ino are in Kusakabe's place while Todo spawns where Inumaki is? (And Yuta is facing the wrong direction too.)
That's pretty fudging weird right? You can chalk it up to Gege forgor but it doesn't stop there. Higuruma enters the discussion in a way that causes Yuji to pause.
Why is Yuji surprised to see him? (And where the fudge did he come from?) Shouldn't he know of his survival by now? And why is he in a cast? Higuruma had learned RCT and fully restored his arms before leaving the battlefield. If he's conscious, then he should be able to heal himself fully no problems.
And that got me thinking... Why is Yuji still missing his fingers?
It was established that he kept his fingers unhealed to help with Yuta's plan. This means that if he won, he has no need to keep them missing. Yuji has fully regenerated missing chunks of his face, including his eye, and stomach. He has RCT just like Higuruma. But it doesn't end there either. Yuji's number of fingers on his left hand keeps changing.
4 fingers, 3 fingers, dubious amount of fingers, 5 fingers. Once again, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but JJK 270 came out and the same problem started happening with Megumi's scars.
The same mistake is made within the same set of panels and very big page. That's weird.
ONCE AGAIN, you can chalk it up to Gege forgor, but when these errors occur, like with Yuta mistakenly having his ring on in JJK 251, Gege will note the mistake outright. Gege has made no such comments for Yuji's fingers or the scars. This many “errors” in row when Gege has otherwise been careful with these features could indicate it really is on purpose. (Kind of like Sukuna's everchanging mask. The thing was just moving around and pulsing. That was deliberate not inconsistency.)
What does this mean?
I think it means what we are seeing isn't reality. After all, the most common way to tell if you're dreaming is being unable to count the number of fingers on your hands. Another way to tell is the distortion of faces.
Readers have noticed that something is wrong. The weird timeskips, the lack of lasting consequences, design inconsistencies, characters behaving like similes of themselves, death and pain being glossed over like it's nothing. It all feels so off. But it's still close enough to the original to be somewhat believable. ...Is that not what it's like to dream and not know you are dreaming?
Why is it that the chapter titled Dream's End ends with the hunt for a curse user whose ability is to distort the perception of reality?
Dreams and Delusions in JJK
We already know Gege weaves Buddhist symbolism and ideas heavily into JJK. I'm not an expert in Buddhism at all, so there's a lot of it that goes over my head. I decided to look into if dreams are significant in Buddhism and boy howdy are they. Quoted directly from the source:
"Dreams can be a message from a Bodhisattva, an ancestor, or a god, The intent of the dream may be to test the dreamer’s resolve: is he non-retreating (avaivartika) from Bodhi (enlightenment) even when sleeping? The purpose of the dream visit may be to communicate information vital to the dreamer’s well-being. The Buddha himself had five dreams of catastrophes, falling stars and worlds in collision just before his enlightenment. The dreams were sent to him not by a benevolent Dharma-protector, but by an malevolent sorcerer, intent on disrupting the Buddha’s samadhi and preventing his awakening."
In summary, (correct me if I'm wrong) dreams appear to be seen as another state of being just as valuable and impermanent as reality.
There's also this other bit I'll quote directly.
"The most common use of dreams in the literature of the Mahayana, or “Northern School” of Buddhism in China, Tibet, Japan, Korea, and Vietnam is to see dreams as a simile for sunyata, (emptiness) the hollow core at the heart of all component dharmas (things). For example, in the well-known Vajra (Diamond) Sutra, the Buddha taught that:
“All conditioned dharmas, are like a dream, like an illusion, like a bubble, like a shadow, like a dewdrop, like a lightening flash; you should contemplate them thus.”"
That's starting to sound like what Yuji's Domain does, right? He projects memories that did happen and mixes them with delusions and dreams. Sukuna and Megumi both experience this in full.
It's incredibly suspicious that it hasn't been named yet. Yuji is the son of Kenjaku who has a domain based on the Womb Sutra/Realm...which is paired with the aforementioned Diamond Realm to encompass the entire Dharma. It's very likely this is what Yuji's domain is—a realm of dreams and reality combined as one.
Unreality Runs in the Family
When Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" as the Culling Games begin, Kenjaku explains her situation with this:
What follows is a sequence that cannot be described as a dream. It seems to be a blend of reality and hallucinations. But that's not anything strange, Sukuna does it too with Kashimo in reverse.
As you can see, both the positions of the characters and even the backgrounds change suddenly from reality to ??? and from sequence to sequence. It's all incredibly dream like.
Another strange thing about this space is Kenjaku creating it as a part of an escape route Binding Vow. You know, the kind Sukuna uses for Malevolent Shrine.
What I want to draw attention to here is this reality-dream state somewhat requires consent (in the loosest possible definition) to appear. The person entering this state has to desire it themself. We see this with Jogo and Gojo who are mutually interested in having a relationship of somekind with Sukuna. (Same with Kashimo.)
(It's also very hard to tell if they are dead or still in the process of dying during this.)
This is where the delusions Yuji projects differ. They are forced onto others when he is near death or severely injured, seemingly as a defense mechanism.
And would you look at that...the syntax is identical for Todo and Choso's Brother Yuji Delusions. "At that moment, a memory was born inside X's brain...of a past event that never happened." It's kind of like how Yuji replaces Gojo in Megumi's memory to reach him. It's also very strange that Sukuna, Choso, and Jogo go "What is this?" to this in-between space.
My point here is that Yuji having access to this space has been hinted at since the start of this manga and that it was inherited it by blood. (Totally Not Kenjaku showing up with Takaba Mr. Reality Warping CT in JJK 270 supports my case too I think.)
What does this mean for JJK 268–270?
The battle ended in JJK 268. Of that I'm certain. What I no longer know is if anyone survived.
A common complaint about Sukuna's death is his lack of an afterlife scene. Everything ended so abruptly. And then Megumi wakes up.
It's so jarring in out of place. ...But that's how all scenes involving the space between dreams and reality begin. Sasaki Setsuko "wakes up" once and then again. Most of us have experienced those kind of dreams right? (They made a whole movie about it called Inception which is based on the movie Paprika.)
There's one other thing I need to draw attention to. Yuji's Domain shattered after Sukuna cast Domain Expansion (DE).
When a sorcerer withdraws their domain voluntarily, it does not shatter. Gojo has demonstrated this for us in quite clearly.
When a domain is broken by force, it will shatter and shards will scatter. When a domain is withdrawn, no shards are left behind. Yuta uses these facts as a part of his plan. In JJK 252, it's revealed by Kusakabe that Yuta shatters his own domain on purpose to trick Sukuna into thinking he won.
What this means is that some kind of violent action needs to be taken to shatter a domain. Yuji's domain is massive and his attacks only targeted Sukuna. What could've shattered his domain all at once? He's not had the time to practice shattering parts of it like Yuta.
Gojo has shown us what a uniform domain shattering looks like—it happens when Malevolent Shrine activates. (Please note that the sfx used for Sukuna breaking Gojo's domain is カシャア. It's the same one used for Yuji's domain shattering.)
I'm proposing that we've been in unreality since the end of JJK 266. Sukuna and Yuji are both severely injured, on the verge of death, and have a connection with each other. These are all conditions that trigger the space between dreams and reality.
And I must remind you that Yuji first triggers this event with Todo after a severe head injury. Right before Sukuna casts his domain, they do this to each other.
Everything that has come after has been perfect for Yuji to a unbelievable degree. Everyone whose death was uncertain is alive and the living are getting exactly what they wanted. The effort behind it and the logistics are all missing. And yes a rushed ending can explain that, but that too can be part of the ruse.
Another massive complaint is that mourning has not occurred. Not for Gojo or Choso despite how much Yuji cherished them. It's like they're being willfully forgotten by the cast despite being crucial to their success in Shinjuku. It feels out of character, especially since Yuji is of the few that showed concern for them no matter what.
But if this is a delusion on the brink of death designed to bring happiness, why would Yuji think of the dead? He's always been so avoidant with it. When his grandpa is dying and trying to talk about his parents, Yuji tells him to shut up. When Nanami dies, he thinks of him then and then never again directly leading up to his talk with Sukuna. When Megumi tries to discuss Nobara's fate, Yuji ends the conversation as quickly as possible.
The only people in this world are the ones who may or may not be dead. He saw Yuta in Gojo's corpse. The only way that can happen is if Gojo is dead. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. Choso burned away before his eyes. Yuji has no choice but to believe it. He went through some of Megumi's memories and saw Tsumiki's corpse. Yuji has no choice but to believe it.
And since Tsumiki is the only person Yuji wasn't close with, she's the only death that has been outright acknowledged. But not for too long! That would make Megumi sad.
Another complaint is that Sukuna really didn't kill anyone in the final battle outside of those two and Kashimo. The dudebros call it Disney Kaisen. But the fairytale-like idea that everyone is ok? Todo was the one who put that idea in Yuji's head.
And Yuji has always been one to fall to story-like logic when things look like they're finally wrapping up.
"And then everything will be just fine." (Yuji before the worst possible outcome for both him and Megumi happens.)
This is similar to the line Gakuganji uses in JJK 270. "Everything is fine." This line is the whole reason I sat down and wrote this all out without stopping. I know Gakuganji. He'd never say that. This man has been in a state of worry over Jujutsu Society since his first appearance. He doesn't even fully believe in Gojo's cause as someone who values tradition. He's a stickler for details and will do everything in his power to ensure stability. For him to toss Sukuna and Tengen's remains in a shrine and call it a day? Who is that? He's changed but not that much.
And so I compared the raws.
It is very much the same 大丈夫 (Daijoubu). These are Yuji's words.
What I'm proposing is that JJK 267–270 are Yuji's delusions of the happiest possible ending. It's a picture perfect little end where all the trauma and death has no effect on the living and people move on like nothing happened. I don't know if this means he's dead or if Megumi's dead or if they're all dead. But what I'm seeing now? I don't think it's real.
Reexamining JJK 269
CW: Brief discussion of suicide.
Even if this turns out to be a part of the smokescreen, I'm always going to hate JJK 269. But I do want to give it some grace under the assumption this chapter titled Examination (which can also be translated as Reflection) is about Yuji's guilt. Both him and Megumi's tbh. I think their feelings for each other and their situations are driving these delusions. That's one thing about this space that's real—the feelings behind them.
Yuji has a lot of guilt surrounding his existence after ingesting Sukuna, Megumi does too. Straight up Yuji has been seeking death over it since JJK 9.
He struggles to forgive himself for being the centerpiece to violence he had little to no control over. The only thing that upsets him more than that is knowing that his death will break Megumi's heart. He doesn't want Megumi to feel any guilt for it whatsoever.
The kicker is, Megumi already knows Yuji is planning to die. And he wants to do everything to rid him of that guilt. Up until they connect inside of Yuji's domain, they were unaware they shared the same goal for each other.
And that's what JJK 269 is. It's a very cold and harsh breakdown that allows them to forgive themselves. Blame is passed around and ultimately pinned on a combination of Gojo and Kenjaku. (It's really weird Sukuna isn't blamed either, but that's not the point of this for now.)
Kusakabe's comment is especially harsh. Telling Yuji point blank he should've died and that both sides on the issue were valid? He may have believed that to an extent, but he made a point of not telling it to his face. Why have a whole chapter discussing how kind he is only to turn around and do this?
If this is all a delusion, a manifestation of Yuji's guilt and trying to absolve himself of it for Megumi's sake, that makes sense. This version of Kusakabe is what Yuji feels guilt over the most—Everyone's lives being better if he died.
In the same breath Kusakabe tells them to solely blame the adults. It's very reminiscent of Nanami telling Yuji that being a child is not a sin.
It should also be noted that every single time Megumi tries to apologize for being possessed, he's stopped. Maki tears into Yuta without checking in on him, but she asks if Megumi is ok and tells him to not blame himself. JJK 270 is full of this too. He tries to apologize to Tsumiki at her grave and Shoko tells him not to sweat it. He tries to apologize to Hana and she hits on him instead.
This delusion is crafted out of love. It allows Megumi to live in a world where he can move on from the guilt surrounding his possession and saving Yuji. It's all Yuji has ever wanted for him. And now that Yuji knows Megumi wants him to forgive himself, he has no choice but to do that too.
It's a perfect ending for Megumi that's too good to be true.
It must be a dream...
There's another thing I can't reconcile about JJK 269 unless it's a delusion—Todo's explanation for Yuta's plan. It's another one of those glaring contradictions.
In JJK 269 Todo claims Boogie Woogie can't target Maki. But in JJK 259? Todo makes plans with Mei Mei knowing that it works with her.
Either Todo lied...or Yuji never fully knew the plan and that Boogie Woogie could target Maki. Otherwise she would be dead. Her surviving Sukuna's flames would be impossible.
I've already talked about how Yuji believing those who may or may not be dead are alive is Todo's doing. He's always been the one to save Yuji from his breakdowns. But let's talk about his speech in Shibuya.
"Looking for meaning or logic in death...can at times defile the memories of those we've lost!"
Everyone who has read these past 3 chapters has really felt the defiling of Gojo's memory. And it was all in service to a strange logic that helped them cope with all this death. Acknowledging how massive Gojo's sacrifice was would riddle both Yuji and Megumi with immense guilt, so it's best to ignore it for Megumi's sake. (And perhaps that's why Yuji replaces Gojo in that memory.)
"What have you been entrusted with? You don't need to answer right now. However... Until you find your answer, never stop moving."
In a way, JJK 269 is an answer to the question Todo proposed. Yuji was entrusted with saving Megumi. Saving Megumi requires Megumi and Yuji forgiving themselves. And Yuji won't stop moving until it's done. All these time jumps and rushed developments are Yuji moving Megumi forward. He's getting that happy ending even if it's to the detriment of everything else.
What about Sukuna?
When Sukuna respects his opponents and they have a connection, he gives others these dreams before they pass. He's been very impressed by Megumi since JJK 9. It's not out of the ballpark for him to allow Megumi to die satisfied in the way Gojo did. Yuji also seems to understand that Sukuna was manipulated by others just as much as he was. I think that's why Sukuna is spared of the blame for the most part.
I don't think Sukuna won. He's probably dead. But he did warn Yuji not to underestimate him. I think the worst absolute last fudge you to Yuji he could give is this happy ending dream before ripping it all away as he dies.
In Conclusion...
I'm not sure that we're going to get that happy ending. Reggie Star warned us not too long ago.
"...it all comes down to a sorcerer's lies."
Reggie is a lot like Sukuna here, outwitted by modern sorcerers and dying to someone he loathes. Sukuna is good at tricking people. He let Gojo think he won before tearing it all away. Yuta did the exact same thing to him. Or did he?
"Can you do me a favor? After all, you've killed me. Let fate toy with you, become a clown, then die."
If the last 3 chapters are delusions...Megumi will be playing the part of a clown.
Gege said the manga would end with either 1/4 or 3/4 of Yuji, Megumi, Nobara, and Gojo surviving. This of course, could be changed throughout its development, but Gege said the manga is ending in its original vision. There's a real chance that it's only Yuji or Nobara surviving.
Remember, Gege is a troll first and foremost. Somehow Gojo was revived, but in the worst way possible (Yujo). Somehow Gojo did tell Megumi about Toji, but in the worst way possible (dead man's final letter).
Gege also said this about the final chapter:
"I am working hard to create a final chapter that will (hopefully) satisfy as many people as possible who have supported Jujutsu Kaisen. So everyone, please bear with me!"
I can't think of a better way to appease everyone than by making the last 3 chapters nothing more than dream.
#cactus yaps#I asked Gege for an Umineko reference and BOY did I get one. There is a nonzero chance Yuji is doing a Battler here and that terrifies me.#I'm actually excited for next week's chapter. Gege will you follow through on what you've put down... We will see...#This is a post that will either age really well or really bad. My final gamble before the end.#This chapter brought back my ''Fever'' for JJK. Let's fudging go!#I should tag this as itafushi probably.#itadori yuji#fushiguro megumi#ryomen sukuna#jjk 270#jjk 269#jjk meta#jujutsu kaisen#jjk spoilers
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my fic + author recs!
i have been suuuper disgruntled by the fic community recently and how casually and thoughtlessly some fic writers/readers seem to be indirectly insulting people’s work. this community and its fics are so varied, and i think they deserve to be appreciated. which is why im reccing a bunch of my fav fics!! please give these writers sooo much love!!
(about all of my recs are nsfw, but some authors mentioned do have sfw fics. please explore and follow the warnings outlined for each fic!!)
“i know your wife and she wouldn’t mind” by @stairain
gotta start out with stairain. i would pretty much credit my whole desire to write fanfics to the fact that i religiously read their whole masterlist a summer ago. they are a fantastic writer, and i love how they captured spencer here. take a look!
“i want you” by @smurphyse
i HEAVILY recommend smurphyse as an author. their series, room 405 is probably one of my most reread fics ever. their threesome and foursome fics are beyond supreme. i love this one shot they’ve written, and i hope you guys do too!
“loverboy” by @sundrop-writes
while i dont think this person writes for cm anymore, their fics for it were fantastic. i love how they captured sub spencer, and i think this is one of my most reread fics ever.
“puppy eyes” by @misserabella
i am in looove with the way this person writes. while i dont have a link to it, “sick love” changed my brain chemistry. sub spencer save me sub spencer save me.
“summer of sin” by @mercy-burning
hoooly shit. if you know me, you’ll know i probably reccomend this fic to everyone i know. i just genuinely can’t say anything besides telling you with my whole heart to check it out. awesome way to close out your summer honestly.
i would love to write blurbs about my love for these fics for everyone, but i fear the post would become too longwinded. here are some links and authors i recommend just as enthusiastically as i did the others above.
@reiderwriter
@foxy-eva
@fortheloveofwonderland
@incognit0slut
@beelmons
@imagining-in-the-margins
@criminalmindzjunkie
@andiebeaword
@reidsrambles
@eideticmemory
@sinfulspencer
@wheelsup
@beautifulbrainrot
@moon-light-jukebox
@gubsbuubs
@minswriting
@golden1u5t
@ginkgo-phyta
@gubler-me-up
@reidbae
@crypticreid
“who’s counting” by @samuel-de-champagne-problems
“behave back there” by @writingmar
“mile high club” by @littlexdeaths
“next to you” by @zombiefiilm
“testing the limits” by @reidsdimples
“follow my lead” by @mismatched-sockss
“welcome home” by @spencerreidenjoyer
“incentive” by @reidslibrarybook
“the very first night” by @writer-in-theory
this request from @donald4spiderman
“malicious compliance” by @aliteralsemicolon
“all zipped up” by @ipseitydelrey
this request from @thedancingcostumeyoungadult
this request from @astrophileous
“scream for you” by @hornyhornyhimbos
“thin walls” by @byersbootyshorts
“just my type” by @reidgraygubler
welcome to the small blurb after where i say something that’s been bugging me. i think it’s corny to indirectly insult people’s work on here. i think it’s corny to imply a “correct” way to write a character, especially in terms of writing about a characters sex life, a sex life that has no canonical basis to it! (i am talking about spencer here, if it is not obvious). i think it’s thoughtless, arrogant and all around odd to engage with that type of behavior. the variety of fanfiction that exists here is such an awesome thing, and i think itd be so incredibly boring if we all thought the same thing and wrote the same thing about the same characters over and over again.
if you’re a writer and you’ve felt that your work has been unappreciated or rejected, or have read something that left you feeling off about your own work, i am very sorry. every contributor to this fandom is awesome. you deserve every flower ever. 🌷🌷🌷
and if you’re reading this and feel called out.. examine that! i make this post off of a general vibe i have examined in the past few weeks. there is no level of entitlement you hold that allows you to dictate how and what people should write.
i say these words with little malice. id like to hope everyone is capable of being a little better everyday, and i hope any amount of reflection can lead to that.
anyway, that’s all ❤️ baiiii enjoy reading!!!!!
#spencer reid#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid self insert#spencer reid angst#spencer reid criminal minds#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds self insert#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#criminal minds angst#criminal minds
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In your last ask, you mentioned misgivings with Book 10's ending, and especially how it pertains to Winter. I absolutely agree, and I know why, but I wanna hear your thoughts on it, too: What's up with Book 10?
The following is a (very long) examination of my personal feelings with regards to the WoF second story arc finale. While it is based on what is in the text, this analysis will be interpretive and fill in blanks with my own thoughts. Keep that in mind.
Hahhhh... okay. Since mentioning it in my last post I’ve gotten several requests to talk about my feelings regarding the second arc finale. There’s probably no way around it then.
If you haven’t read that last post (it was admittedly very long, and so will this one be), I talked briefly about why I didn’t like that part of the story. I have to warn you now, this will likely be the most negative and dour post in the history of this blog. In a few parts it will sound like I hate Wings of Fire, and I want to say now, while I still have the chance, that I don’t. I love this series, thinking about its setting and characters brings me joy.
I also—very emphatically—want to make it clear that I have no ill will against Tui T. Sutherland. I’ve looked around other people’s stuff a bit and there are a huge number of posts wishing violence upon her or threatening her for doing things to her series that people don’t agree with. That is NOT what I am doing here, shit like that is NOT okay! While I will be critical of her choices, I still respect her effort of bringing this vibrant, wonderful world of dragons to all of us.
Also, obligatory last disclaimer: If you liked the finale, that is okay. You are valid for feeling that way. I’m here to share my point of view, not to demand people agree with everything I say. Just be warned that you most likely won’t enjoy what I have to say. If you don’t think you can handle that kind of criticism, this is your guilt-free opportunity to stop reading.
Otherwise, let's get into it.
CW: Discussion of parental abuse, depression, disease, and extreme acts of violence.
In defense of the finale
Before I start to systematically disassemble this narrative and get lost in a quagmire of negativity, let’s talk a bit about the circumstances that brought forth this part of the story. The plot of this arc was a mess from the moment animus magic was unshackled from the restrictions it had in the first arc, and from then on there was no longer any conceivable way to end this story in a clean way. Sutherland had created an invincible, unbeatable, omnipotent villain; he could read minds, see the future with perfect clarity, and anything he could imagine he could conjure into existence at any time with no cost to himself and no drawbacks. She was likely wracking her brain about how to resolve this impossible conundrum. What we got wasn’t good, but I believe nothing could have been. The foundation was rotting and by the fifth book it couldn’t bear the weight of the plot anymore.
The thing about animus magic in arc 2 is that it is so potent, so all-powerful, and so free of restraint that everyone who uses it also HAS to be a simpleton, or they would be able to break the plot immediately and become god. From the moment Darkstalker broke out of that mountain, he could have said “Any and all spells that are cast with the intention to harm me, interfere with my plans, or do something I don’t consent to will not work, from now on until forever”, and he would have instantly won. The strawberry would have fizzled out. The Darkstalker-blocking earrings would not have been created, and no one could have saved the Icewings. On the flipside, Turtle or Anemone could have said “I enchant the concept of animus magic itself to no longer obey Darkstalker”, and his threat would have been neutered. Point is, powers as potent and easy to use as this really need limitations, or they will quickly eat your plot alive.
I don’t envy the situation Sutherland was in at the time at all. If you’re an author, that kind of thing is a nightmare. It really is no wonder she decided to blow up animus magic for good in her next arc, even if I would have preferred it to get more healthy restrictions instead of killing it outright.
The Darkstalker age regression thing
Everyone has talked this part to death already, but if I am to write a thorough analysis of my feelings regarding this finale, I’m going to have to talk about it as well. I’m sorry if I end up repeating a lot of things you’ve already heard.
This final fate of Darkstalker, to have his memories wiped and be reset to an infant, is really uncomfortable. As far as I am aware, though correct me if I’m wrong, Sutherland said in an interview that she didn’t want Darkstalker to die because, in her view, he did not deserve to. We can debate here about the philosophical question of whether anyone is truly deserving of death, and the merits of “justice” and “punishment”, but in general, Wings of Fire did not seem to have any issues killing off its villains prior if they committed suitably terrible acts. That makes this moment stand out as noteworthy.
Who is Darkstalker then--and if we assume villains can be “deserving” and “not deserving” of death--what about him speaks in his favor, or against? The guy had a pretty crappy childhood, coming from a broken home (there is that inadequate parent theme again). He genuinely loved his sister and felt protective of her, and whenever he liked someone he wanted them to be happy and feel affirmed. The thing that Queen Diamond does to his mother is awful and he is justified in hating her for it. He is also portrayed as rather sympathetic in Moon Rising. When he asks Moon to find his scroll for him and not to leave him, he is not manipulating her, he is sincerely begging for her help. He is stuck somewhere underground, trapped in darkness, in a space so tiny that he can’t move. He remains that way for months, lonely and sad. If you just focus on these aspects, it’s easy to understand why he has so many fans who want him to see healthy and happy.
On the flipside, while he is dedicated to the happiness of his friends, he doesn’t always go for the most ethical way to achieve it. He tries to brainwash said friends without their consent whenever they exhibit behaviors he doesn’t like, or when he thinks he knows better and wants to “fix” them. He has very little regard for other people’s autonomy, lies to his loved ones with alarming frequency, and is unhealthily attached to the idea of power. Those things are certainly not good, but they are his character flaws. These are his demons; everyone has them and they make him a person. If this was all there was to it, he might still be a villain, but I’d argue he’d not be wholly irredeemable.
But there are things about him that take him beyond the pale. Things that go beyond the realm of just being misunderstood, or easily excusable.
He is possessive. He wants Clearsight and Fathom for himself, and for them to listen to him primarily. When Indigo makes it clear she doesn’t like him and cautions Fathom against trusting him, he deceives his friends and traps Indigo in a wood carving, just so he can isolate Fathom from his support network and manipulate him easier. He alters Clearsight’s mind to make her more agreeable and stop her from holding him accountable for his actions; while he thinks he loves her, he only loves an idealized version of her that is wholly devoted to and unquestioning of him. This is why, when he later forcibly overwrites Fierceteeth’s existence to recreate her (which is another horrific thing), he tries to excise the parts he finds undesirable to create a perfect version of his lover. But this caricature he has created in his head is not and can never be Clearsight, which frustrates his attempts.
He is vengeful. Not against people who have actually wronged him, like Queen Diamond. That would be questionable, but understandable. What makes this unacceptable is his frequent targeting of innocent people who just happen to be related to the person who wronged him in some esoteric way. He enchants a secret murder knife that kills random Icewings regardless of who they are or what they think about the Queen, just because the one who took his mother from him happened to share their tribe. He hates Turtle and wishes death upon him in Moon Rising just because he is a green Seawing, like Fathom was. And then there is the big one: He tries to kill all the Icewings who are alive in the present day, where Queen Diamond is long dead and none of them have ever even met her. Even his mother, who suffered from Diamond’s actions the most and has the most reason to hate her, is horrified and calls him out on that one.
And lastly, he is sadistic. He revels in torturing those he hates. He forces his father to disembowel himself, while the latter is fully aware and powerless to resist AND the man’s traumatized daughter is watching. Later he sends a magical plague to kill every single living Icewing sans one.
It should be noted that Darkstalker possesses virtually infinite magical power; whatever he declares, with very few exceptions, will happen. Even if he wanted them dead, he had the power to prevent unnecessary suffering. He could have said “Arctic, fall dead instantaneously”, or “Every Icewing will fall asleep and pass away peacefully,” but he didn’t. He wanted them to feel pain and pass away in the most wretched, agonizing ways he could imagine.
So what he chose to do instead is—and I want you to picture this for a moment—Darkstalker sat down, calmly, and said “Henceforth every living Icewing, excepting Prince Winter and those of hybrid blood, will fall ill with an incurable disease. This disease will cause heavy internal bleeding and make its victims cough up blood and waste away for a few days, followed by certain death.”
This spell does not discriminate with regards to who its victims are. The book glosses over the implications, but imagine the ramifications. Young children are notoriously frail, how many newborns got infected and died because of this? How many families were torn apart because they couldn’t get the magic earrings fast enough? Or accidentally got one earring less than there were family members and had to decide who has to die?
Most of the Icewings were physically cured by the earrings, but an experience like that sticks with you for the rest of your life. Somewhere surely, a dragonet watched as his mother put the earring on him and then slowly wasted away because she didn’t have one for herself.
It’s really easy to overlook how horrific this spell is because it isn’t shown or dwelt on. But the trauma, grief, and suffering it caused must have been immeasurable.
And none of those victims have ever even met the person Darkstalker wanted to get revenge on. None of those deaths meant anything to anyone.
The attempted death toll and scale of the calamity here puts even Scarlet to shame. The ones who come closest to it were Queen Battlewinner and Morrowseer with their attempted Rainwing extermination. All three of those died for what they did. Gives you some food for thought for sure.
Peacemaker’s burden
Despite just airing all of his dirty laundry and declaring him an irredeemable villain, I actually do have a lot of sympathy for Darkstalker still. His story is really sad. He was a child born with an amount of power that nobody should possess, and it corrupted him to the point where it destroyed his life before it began. His parents were always fighting and no matter how good his intentions were, he was unable to understand why he couldn’t hold on to his friends and relationship. He kept making mistakes, then made bigger mistakes to fix those, until his hands were covered in blood and he couldn’t stop anymore. My belief is that, after he wakes up in the present and realizes Clearsight is dead, he loses his reason for living and becomes completely lost in his grief.
Therefore, my opinion is that it would have been appropriate for him to die. If not to punish him, then to finally grant him reprieve from all that rage and pain, and let him rest. I think that would have been a dignified end.
But instead he got turned into a baby. ... And then they decided to magically erase his father’s blood from him? I don’t know what it is, but something about that Icewing erasure makes my skin crawl?
The thing that turns this baby twist from weird into highly unsettling is the context. Darkstalker’s mind is erased, then modified into a new person via animus magic. This is the technique a lot of this arc’s villains used to victimize Hailstorm, Queen Ruby, Peril, Kinkajou, Fierceteeth, and Winter. The same technique is now used again, by the heroes, which is a dangerous thing to have your protagonists do if you want them to remain morally upright.
It is also very reckless, because in almost all of these instances, animus mind alteration has been shown to be very unreliable. The spells seem to wear down over time and are susceptible to partial breaking upon encountering certain strong stimuli. Hailstorm—while trapped as Pyrite—seems to retain trace amounts of his former memories, which is why Pyrite is subconsciously drawn to Winter and clings to him all the time. Ruby is able to ignore half of her conditioning because her familial love for her son partially overpowers the magic. Qibli is just straight up able to reason his way out of it.
The thing to note here is that spells of this nature require a very meticulous approach; you can’t half-ass your reprogramming or the victim will just think their way past it. If you alter someone’s mind, the wording of the spell must be ironclad, lest you risk it wearing down over time and even break.
Luckily we have nothing to fear in that regard, because the spell that created Peacemaker was written by a Rainwing with a total of four days of literacy training. No one better mention the name Clearsight to the new baby Nightwing, or next month is going to be rather interesting.
But that’s just speculation on my part. Let’s assume that, somehow, this spell isn’t as unstable as all the others. Somehow Kinkajou threaded all the needles, and masterfully dodged every conceivable pitfall to pen the perfect incantation, despite having been illiterate just a few weeks prior. This one is built to last and Darkstalker is sealed away really thoroughly, for good.
That is still absolutely terrible and morally dubious, because now you have Peacemaker, who for all intents and purposes is a COMPLETELY innocent little kid, saddled with this huge burden of being the certifiable reincarnation of a genocidal ancient wizard. He’s gonna grow up thinking things like “Mommy gets real quiet whenever the topic of the Icewing tragedy is brought up,” and “Why does Auntie Moon look at me like that? One time she accidentally called me a weird name, who is Darkstalker?” “What is this ‘Clearsight’ name my mind-reading friends from the village found in Mommy’s mind?”
In a village that will be full of mind-readers soon, eventually the secret will come out, and Peacemaker is going to learn what was done to him. A huge, messy load of undeserved baggage was forced onto this completely separate, innocent entity. He will be devastated. Whether he then chooses to forgive them for this remains to be seen. To be honest, he would be well within his right not to, and turn resentful.
Poor kid.
Qibli’s callousness
I love Qibli, he is one of my favorite characters. This happens to be his book, and the fact that I fundamentally dislike half of it makes me rather sad. If anything, I hope this tells you that I’m not just hating on it for my personal amusement. I really wanted to like this. I tried to, and I couldn’t.
Qibli is really weird in this one, to be honest. He is suddenly made to be co-dependent on Moonwatcher, fawning over her every third paragraph, saying how much he loves her, how he is an incomplete and dysfunctional wreck without her, how it physically pains him to be apart from her, oh if only the stars would grant his wish and split the mountains apart so that he may fly to his princess, his muse, his goddess of ebony wit. It gets so old.
And it’s not Qibli. He never acted this clingy towards Moonwatcher. It’s more intense than even Winter gets about Moon, and Winter was actually depicted with a crush on her in book 6. Qibli was always just a supportive element, eager to befriend Moon but never desperate, like he is going to keel over if he is separated from his true love five minutes longer. These very frequent love declarations feel so forced coming out of him. It strikes me like it was just written in service of the love triangle. Maybe if we make him confess his love every four seconds readers will overlook the fact that they had no proper romantic build-up.
You might rightly accuse me of bias. I have previously admitted I am fond of Qibli/Winter as a romantic pairing, on the surface this seems like I am just not happy with my pet ship being blocked by Moonwatcher. But I assure you, I am actually pretty flexible and accommodating even towards pairings that contradict my preferences. I have no issues with Winter/Moonwatcher, for example, because the possibility was properly established and they have good romantic chemistry in Winter Turning. In theory, I would have no problem with Qibli/Moonwatcher either if it was ever set up as an interesting romantic dynamic. But to me, it seems like Qibli is written as a good, supportive friend to Moon for four books, only to pivot hard into “Moon moon moon moon moon moon swoon” at the last second, and it just reads to me as obnoxious.
I got distracted. This section is called “Qibli’s callousness”, and I haven’t even talked about the main part.
Qibli and Winter have excellent chemstry together, whether you read it as romantic or platonic—both of these interpretations have merit and are set up. They’re always the highlight of any scene they’re in. Throughout the story arc you get the impression that these two really get on each other’s nerves, but they bond and grow into really strong friends who bicker a lot but have each other’s backs when it counts.
Then there is a scene where Qibli casually tells Winter that he wouldn’t object if someone wanted to mind-control away some of Winter’s more objectionable traits.
This is genuinely a terrible thing to say to your friend. Like, it crosses a line and ceases to be harmless banter; you’re just telling them that there is something you hate about them so much that you wish they were someone else. Winter actually WAS mind-controlled earlier and felt (and proably still feels) guilty about having attacked Qibli in that state. And now Qibli says “Hey, I wouldn’t mind if someone did that to you again! Hue hue!”
It is awful, BUT I don’t necessarily object to Qibli saying this here. Qibli is in the middle of his character arc at this moment, so he is expected to be flawed. He is making a mistake by thoughtlessly telling Winter this horrid thing, and it seems like a believable continuation of his current character track. This is a reasonable development as long as the plot acknowledges that it’s a mistake.
Spoilers: The plot doesn’t acknowledge that it’s a mistake. Qibli never has a scene after where he reflects upon what he said and apologizes to Winter. When Darkstalker has Qibli trapped in his mountain jail and mind-wipes Qibli’s grandfather into a toddler (hey, wait a minute), Qibli gets visibly disturbed. Like, this is so off-putting to him that he gets queasy and Darkstalker hastily changes the spell. That could have been a great way to bring this back. Like in the epilogue, have Qibli track down Winter and tell him about disturbing baby grandpa theater and how he realized that wiping people’s minds is actually messed up and should have never said that to him.
But he doesn’t. He just lets Winter go, allowing him to believe he is broken and needs magical intervention to be tolerable. It leaves me to think that maybe he’s still okay with it, and fantasizing about rewriting his friend’s mind. Great.
Moonwatcher’s character death
You will find as this goes on that, I get the impression that the second half of this book takes all of the wonderful, endearing characters I have learned to love throughout the story and replaces them with really mean, or stupid, or otherwise inaccurate caricatures.
Moonwatcher’s relationship with Darkstalker gets plenty of setup and development in Moon Rising. You get the sense that these two could be great friends if their circumstances were a little different. It does a great job at making you think maybe Darkstalker is just misunderstood; maybe Moon should free him from his predicament.
Then at the end of Escaping Peril comes the emotional gut punch. Darkstalker actually IS a villain. He callously admits to Moonwatcher that he used his magic to make his own father gruesomely disembowel himself. Moonwatcher is horrified and disgusted that he would do that. There is no circumstance in which something like that would ever be okay. She ends the scene awash in tears because the person she thought was her friend is a murderer and a sadist. This is good, that is a natural reaction to what she was just told.
A few hours from there, in Talons of Power, Turtle finds Moon again and she is completely cool with Darkstalker walking free, despite crying her eyes out after feeling so betrayed earlier. That may seem strange, but this is still good because later, Darkstalker’s mind control plot is discovered. This scene was obviously written to set that up, Moon is mind-controlled into forgetting that Darkstalker could do something that morally reprehensible, and thus forgives him. This is also completely in line with his characterization in Legends: Darkstalker. It’s a kind of stunt he would pull to get Clearsight to shut up about him slipping into villainy.
In my earlier post I alluded to a moment where Moon is set to narrative auto-pilot and says something so rampantly off-kilter that it does irreversible, permanent damage to her character. It happens here, in the second half of book 10. Qibli gives Moon the Darkstalker protection earring, and Moon, somehow, says “I’m not being mind-controlled, Darkstalker really is my friend.”
I get what the plot tries to do here. It’s taking this concept of mind-control and adding a nuance, in an attempt to flesh out Darkstalker and give his character depth. He is ready to control everyone in the world, but for Moon, who is his best friend in this era, he wants her to remain herself. Perhaps this is his attempt at attonement for playing with Clearsight’s mind and driving her away from him. It is very touching in a way, viewed in isolation.
Unfortunately, it does not work with the full context of all the books. Because Moon is in auto-pilot mode right now, her main character trait is “Darkstalker=Friend,” so naturally she would speak in support of him. But this revelation has devastating retroactive consequences. The earlier scene that was written with Moon under mind-control is now altered into her having been in her right mind! She is completely okay with Darkstalker’s admittance to cold-blooded torture and evisceration, within hours of being so shocked by it that it made her cry and ready to denounce him. That is such a quick turnaround it’s giving me whiplash. And what’s more it turns Moon from a principled, upstanding girl into a sociopath who casually accepts gruesome torture and murder if it is committed by someone she likes.
Did Sutherland forget about the scene two books ago, where Darkstalker’s actions were so inconceivably horrid for Moon to learn of that she started crying? It baffles me that this made it into the final version. Her saying she was never mind-controlled makes Moon come off as so awful. This torture-excusing lunatic is not the same kind-hearted and insightful character I followed in all the other books.
Kinkajou’s character derailment
The world is a sad place when I have to question the way Kinjajou is written. Fortunately she is mostly fine, despite her having the biggest excuse to act out-of-character since she’s the victim of a mind-altering spell. Her only real moment of “what!?” comes at the end.
I already talked about her role in casting the spell that regresses Darkstalker into an infant. But I didn’t mention how her being the source of it is questionable in itself.
The clue is in the first paragraph of this section: She herself has experienced the effects of invasive mind-alteration. She was cursed by Anemone in the previous book to be in love with Turtle, and kind of half-struggles kind of not with it, it’s really strange. Turtle is appropriately horrified and acts like really awful things are happening, but then it’s mostly played lightly for some reason. My assumption is that Sutherland introduced this plot point, but then realized how uncomfortable this premise really is and tried to downplay it until the story got to a point where it could get done away with.
But I think the takeaway is still supposed to be that this was a horrid thing to do (which it absolutely is), and that Kinkajou will have to spend a lot of time trying to untangle her real emotions from the fake ones the spell created.
The point is: Kinkajou knows first-hand how awful it is to do something like that to another person. Ideally she should never even conceive of the idea to cast a spell like that, but if we’re really set on this Darkstalker baby thing and it has to happen, she should at least be a bit hesitant about it. And afterwards she should struggle with the guilt of having resorted to it. Not celebrate it and be proud, like it’s funny.
The assassination of Winter’s future
Now we come to the part I’ve alluded to previously; the part where all of these threads converge to utterly destroy one character and drive him to the brink of ruin. Let’s talk about Winter.
Prince Winter is the son of Tundra and Prince Narwhal, hatching in the same clutch as his sister Icicle. He spent his formative years being unfavorably compared to said sister—who easily took to traits that Icewing royalty considers desirable—whereas Winter struggled greatly to embody those same ideals. He was just a little too kind, too merciful, too gentle. As a result he often had to endure abuse from his parents, who made him feel like he was defective.
Because he was young and didn’t have any other frame of reference, he embraced this abusive narrative and began to drive himself with a vigor unreasonable for someone of his age. He scraped and cloyed for every bit of credit he could get, obsessing over advancing up the circle rankings in an attempt to “purge” the wrongness out of himself. To make his parents as proud of him as they were of Icicle.
This never worked. He was always seen as the runt, poised to embarrass the family name. Whatever he did, no matter how hard he strived, there was always something he could have done better.
The only real source of love and affirmation in his life was his older brother, Hailstorm. Where everyone else only saw what Winter wasn’t, Hailstorm embraced his brother despite of his “failings” and was openly affectionate with him. When Winter was with him, it was okay to not think about rankings all the time, and just be himself for a bit. I assume Hailstorm fulfilled a similar role for Icicle as well, which is why both of them love him dearly, and Icicle destroys her own life to bring him back.
Winter also has a fascination with scavengers, possibly because they are small and perceived as useless, like he himself is. He likely feels a kinship with them and observes them being craftier and more adept than everyone else sees them. This is therapeutic for him, to see that a thing can have merit even if no one wants to see it.
One day, he and Hailstorm sneak into Skywing territory so Winter can catch a scavenger as a pet. This excursion turns hostile when they are discovered by a roaming Skywing troop and faced with the prospect of capture, possibly execution. In a gambit to save Winter from this fate, Hailstorm mirrors the words of his parents, calling Winter pathetic and useless, so the Skywings will not think of him as a threat and show mercy. His act succeeds in convincing the Skywings, but it also convinces Winter, who does not understand Hailstorm only said these things to save his life. He returns home—believing his brother hated him all along—to face the wrath of his furious family for losing them “the desirable son”.
For all of his life, these themes have repeated themselves and haunted him. “I was born wrong and defective,” “I am unlovable,” “No one wants me.”
A few months after the war ends, Winter is one of the five Icewings enrolled in the newly founded Jade Mountain Academy. Shortly after departing, he unexpectedly returns home, having successfully rescued his older brother and bringing him back. He is made to believe that this erases his mistakes, his mother even pays him a backhanded compliment, an uncharacteristically “nice” gesture. He is promoted to the top of the rankings, finally his parents are proud of him.
But of course it is all a trick. The “adoration” afforded to him was all a ploy. Secretly, his parents abused power and tradition to arrange for Winter’s death. They force him into a lethal trial they intentionally rigged against him, all to finally erase that stain on their family’s honor.
Winter finally realizes the true nature of his parents’ opinion of him. Even when he succeeds, and does everything right, he is still defective, unlovable, and unwanted. He will never be anything else to his family. And so he leaves his homeland, pretending he is dead, resigned to live in hiding forever.
During this time, while at the brink of despair, Winter is able to draw strength from one source: His new friends from the academy. He vocalizes that, for all the abuse he suffered at the hands of his birth family, he fervently believes that THEY would never do anything like that to him. They chose to stuck with him, even when he was awful, and told him he was not hopeless. He was not a mistake; he could be deserving of love.
So naturally, he returns to them; they accept him readily, are willing to be his new surrogate family. When he almost burns to death at a later point, they fear and weep for him. When Qibli sets out to confront his own abusive family, Winter, despite being mind-controlled into a placid potato at the time, feels concerned enough for his friend’s safety to insist to come along (returning the favor of them accompanying him in his time of need in book 7). When Darkstalker’s mind control forces Winter to attack Qibli, he is shown ashamed and guilty of it once the control wears off again.
They bicker and struggle, and make mistakes, they break up but always come back together again. Time and time again the one thing that is always reinforced: When the cards are down, Winter loves his friends, and they love him. They would never intentionally hurt each other, or give up on each other.
I want you to keep in mind how wholesome, and loving, and mutually supportive this ramshackle band of misfits has been portrayed to this point... Because we’re moving on to the arc 2 finale, and it will do everything it can to corrupt all of it and consign Winter to a life of misery.
We arrive at aforementioned scene, where Moonwatcher receives her earring. Just a little bit prior, Winter had learned that Darkstalker unleashed a magical plague onto his people in an attempt to wipe them out. Now here is Moonwatcher, revealing that she is not under any spell, and has aligned herself with this guy willingly, speaking fondly of him as if he was a dear friend who never did any wrong. Winter takes this badly and accidentally breaks a vase; the narrative lingers on this moment and really tries to sell us on how unreasonable Winter’s reaction is, how he is overreacting, but let’s examine that interpretation for a moment.
Moonwatcher doesn’t yet know about the attempted Icewing genocide, but she DOES know about Darkstalker being okay with casting spells to inflict immeasurable torture upon those he hates. WE know that she knows this, so her stance here is already suspect. Yet she goes on to praise Darkstalker and refer to him as a friend. Look at this from Winter’s perspective. This “friend” of Moonwatcher just tried to kill his entire tribe, and he actually succeeded in killing his aunt, Queen Glacier, a person Winter greatly respects. Winter is currently unable to return to his homeland for fear of being branded a traitor. Even if he could return, he knows his obstinate and spiteful family would prevent him from attending the funeral, meaning he is not even afforded the basic dignity of saying farewell to his aunt. The aunt whom Darkstalker murdered by making her vomit her own blood until she withered away in her bed. And here is Moon, absolving the person who did this to Glacier from his appalling actions, despite knowing full well what Darkstalker is capable of and choosing to look away.
I don’t know about you, but I think I can forgive the grieving, emotionally overwhelmed boy for shattering a little pottery after hearing his trusted friend—who held his hand when he was dying—say that the guy who makes people disembowel themselves and wipes out entire countries may be misunderstood and not so bad. I think I would have a similar reaction. In fact, I would never want to talk to her ever again.
There is no way I can read this scene in which Moon doesn’t come off as either an absolute lunatic, or critically stupid and callous. In fact, based on her earlier behavior I half-expect her to get over the news of the attempted Icewing massacre in a couple hours, saying “Eh, it’s kinda bad, but you just have to do these kinds of things sometimes, you know? I’m sure he had his reasons.”
Then there is the part where Qibli makes his off-color comment about how Winter’s brain could really use a good wash. I already went into how it could have worked but didn’t. But with the timing here, we’ve already had Moon spit on their friendship, so as Winter’s other closest friend, it naturally follows that Qibli also craps on his feelings.
Consider the context: Winter comes from an abusive household where his parents forcibly tried to change him away from who he was to purge the “wrongness” from him. When they betray him and he narrowly escapes their attempt on his life, he re-affirms his belief in his friends, and the knowledge that they wouldn’t treat him like that gives him the strength he needs to keep going. But now, Qibli asserts that Winter DOES need to be altered, thereby AGREEING with Winter’s abusive parents, rendering Winter’s affirmation from book 7 erroneous. Qibli WOULD treat him like that if it made Winter less “intolerable”.
Neither Moonwatcher nor Qibli ever make an attempt to repair this rift. Winter is left betrayed and alone.
Stuff happens, and the forces of the Nightwings and Icewings come to blows over Jade Mountain. With his two closest friends having written him off and his support network eroded, Winter relapses into thinking he is worthless, seeks validation in unquestioning patriotism, and realigns himself with his abusive family by throwing himself into the battle. Nobody wants him to, in fact his parents still hate him for it, but whatever. His father dies and his mother blames him for it.
Meanwhile Turtle, Anemone, and Qibli are cooking up a solution to the battle problem. They have the idea to make everyone’s minds connect in a huge empathy wave for a few moments, which I think is a pretty interesting idea for what it’s worth. But then they teleport both armies back to their homes, and the spell sweeps Winter up with them, taking him out of the rest of the finale and bringing him to the Ice Kingdom. The characters say “whoops” but aren’t further concerned with the situation. It’s all a big laugh.
Let me remind you that Winter is currently considered not welcome on Icewing territory. His family, whom he was sent back with, is extremely abusive and vindictive. His friends know this. Said parents have previously arranged for him to be killed, and are still on record as wanting him dead. His friends KNOW this. And now he is alone with them and a gaggle of other royal Icewings who all are extremely pissed off at him for ruining their sacred trial site.
It is very possible that he is being torn apart and mauled by an enraged mob right now. He could be forced into captivity and flayed. Maybe the interim regent is sentencing him to death and getting the rope ready. There is a million different horrible things that could be happening to Winter right now, while he is trapped alone with people who hate him, things his friends would be reasonably able to anticipate. And nobody is doing anything to get him out of there, to suggest bringing him back, even though it would only take a single spoken sentence to do so! They aren’t even concerned!
Then the climax happens, strawberry thing and all, and we get the coup de grâce. After all is said and done, the group decides that Winter is untrustworthy, and that they must protect the secret of Darkstalker’s fate from him, because they fear if he knew he would kill Peacemaker.
Moon, who read Winter’s mind in book 6 and reached out to him about how the “ruthless Icewing warrior” persona in his head is a facade and how she sees he has a gentle and good heart... Moon, who in book 7 finds out about Winter’s secret deal to kill Glory and STILL trusts him, who calls out his bullshit to his face because she KNOWS how kind-hearted Winter is and that he would never resort to murder... Moon who, again, held his hand while he was dying... thinks that the dragon she has reminded of his compassionate nature time and time again would kill an innocent child.
This is disgusting. Moon believing that is so far off the mark with regards to anything this group has embodied or done for any of the last 4 books, that my only conclusion can be that these are different characters. Maybe the Nightwing library collapsed on top of original Moon, and when Darkstalker magiced her back to health she came back wrong or something. I don’t know.
So after all of this, Winter is left alone. He somehow escaped from the Ice Kingdom; luckily there is a timeskip so we can just gloss over the horrible situation he was put in by his friends. He thinks about Jade Mountain. He reflects on everything that happened, how his parents never really loved him... How they hated him so much they tried to kill him... How he despaired, but found solace in his friends who loved him for who he was.... How those friends then betrayed him too and magiced him away... How they didn’t care about what happened to him... And he decides he is done. He won’t bother going back. A few people, probably Sunny, reach out to tell him he is welcome back, but he says “it wouldn’t be fair to other Icewings if an exile took up a bed”. The decision isn’t hard to make, after all there is nothing left for him there. Everyone has written him off, moved on and left him behind.
Kinkajou visits sometimes, tries to stay in touch, but that’s just how she is. Maybe the others sent her to check on whether he’s going to become troublesome. They don’t trust him. Better to keep an eye on him, he might kill the baby.
With nowhere else to go, Winter moves to Sanctuary, a place for rejects like him. I picture him standing there, at the edge of a cliff staring blankly into the distance. He is completely alone; no one wants to go near him or talk to him beyond the bare necessities. He could probably make new friends with the Talons of Peace if he tried, but there is no point. Why should someone like him have friends? It wouldn’t work. They’d just decide he is too inconvenient to be around. Sooner or later they would just tell him to leave anyway. It's better not to try, so he doesn't get hurt again.
And slowly it dawns on him. His parents had been right all along. It was never them, or the others, it was him. He is the problem. The Icewings said it, Qibli said it, Moonwatcher said it. There is just something fundamentally wrong with him.
He is defective. He is unlovable. Nobody wants him. He will never be anything, or have anyone. And so he stands at the cliff, looking over the broken vase fragments of his life... This is who he is. Prince Winter. A mistake.
And quietly, where no one knows or cares, he does the only thing he has left to do... he begins to weep.
As it is written, the tale of Winter is the story of a boy who is told he is wrong for being alive. He closes his ears and tries to keep walking forward, desperate to prove that he is not an error, that he has merit. But this book comes out and it unmistakably says that he doesn’t. He is nothing, and he deserves to have nothing.
And I just cannot accept that.
Why did this have to happen?
I think that the author was really struggling with the ending of this book. I’ve said before how much of a corner she wrote herself into with such an invincible villain. I think she came up with the strawberry idea as a solution to this problem. But as she was writing it, the characters kept fighting her. It was not a natural solution, not a decision the characters—as they were established—would ever make.
So concessions had to be made to force the issue. Established traits had to be bent slightly to make this plot work. The farther she went, the worse it got. The concessions piled up and turned into contrivances. Eventually the characters were no longer acting like themselves. Their bonds got stretched too far and some snapped. It’s a very tragic pitfall that occurs with long-running series.
I think Sutherland must have also been tired. Writing an entire book is a monumental task, and writing 6 connected ones even moreso. She also comes out with these things really quickly. Maybe she was burnt out? Maybe she wanted to be done and her attention lapsed. Maybe that’s why she forgot that Moon knew about the disemboweling. It seems reasonable to believe when you consider that the next story arc would make a relatively clean break from the problems of this arc, especially with regards to the magic system.
But I don’t know what ultimately happened, so I can only speculate. I reiterate, I bear no ill will against Sutherland for writing this. Even if I kind of hate everything about this finale, and very vocally wish it would be different, I don’t want this examination to generate (or reawaken) any hatred towards her, or to attack her personally. I understand the pain of an artist who gets trapped with something for too long and has to find the means, any means, to see it through to the end. I criticize the story, but I could never hate anyone for that.
But for me, I do not consider this half of the book as part of the story. The characters act too unnaturally for it to have happened. So to me, it didn’t. We don’t know what happened, maybe Darkstalker is still out there. Maybe they dealt with him. Maybe what actually happened is my crappy and self-indulgent rewrite of the ending which I will never show to anyone because it would be really embarrassing.
But whatever actually ended up happening, I am sure Winter never ended up at that cliff, pondering how worthless and meaningless his life was. He is currently at Jade Mountain, surrounded by friends who love him, and bickering with Qibli about the correct solution to their advanced calculus assignment that is due tomorrow.
Is there anything left to say?
Probably.
I didn’t talk about Anemone yet. You know, in the epilogue she enchants herself a bracelet that makes her “not be so mean all the time”. I find that creepy. To me it reads as Anemone voluntarily brainwashing herself with magic to erase her negative traits instead of growing past them naturally because she finds them undesirable and wants to work to change for the better. I would ordinarily assume that this is an overreaction on my part, and I’m just reading the scene wrong. But no, we just got through a part where the heroes brainwashing someone is treated as an unequivocal good and worthy of celebration, so I think my reading may actually be spot on. Why are we letting the little kid alter her own brain without supervision? Hello? Tsunami? Someone intervene maybe? This cannot be healthy.
Turtle stands out to me as the one bright spot in all of this. He (and Peril, but she’s mostly out of focus) remain as the only main characters of this arc who don’t have any mind-boggling out-of-character moments or sudden streaks of uncharacteristic callousness. I really like the part where Qibli goes to free Turtle from his captivity and plans to give him an earful about the comically unhelpful messages he’s been sending him. But when Turtle asks if what he did was helpful, Qibli sees how beaten down and exhausted Turtle is, and wordlessly drops his frustration to tell him “Yeah, they were helpful.” That is the true Qibli shining through for a moment, showing that he cares about the well-being of his friends.
Do I hate the pairing of Qibli/Moonwatcher? No. Well, I DO hate how it happened in the book, and how the story tried to assassinate Winter’s character to resolve the love triangle and make it happen. I don’t hate it on principle though. If you are a fan of Qibli/Moonwatcher and want to write fanfics about it, please do! I absolutely encourage you to do that! Maybe you can fix this mess and turn it into something that’s actually properly handled!
Mightyclaws keeps the power that Darkstalker granted him past the finale. That means all the spells that Darkstalker cast are technically still active. Does that mean the Icewings have to wear earrings for the rest of their lives? Do they get sick again if they take them off? Is Peril forever cursed to think of Darkstalker as a cool old uncle and has to somehow reconcile how everyone else thinks of him? How did the Nightwings relinquishing their powers work, do they have to wear the earrings forever too now?
And there is one more thing to mention.
My confession
You may have already intuited this, if you’ve been following the content of my blog. It is very heavily skewed towards the first and second arcs of the series. I would now like to confess something.
When I read the second half of book 10, I found it so disillusioning, Winter’s fate so upsetting... that I put down the series then and there. And I haven’t picked it back up since.
That’s right, I have not read arc 3. I don’t know if that makes me a fake fan. I know pretty much everything that happens in it, the controversial twist at the end, Pyrrhia coming back into the story later, Snowfall getting brainwashed by a piece of jewelry until she cares about a plot that had nothing to do with her or the fate of the Icewings, etc..
It’s not out of malice, or because it’s a new continent. The opposite in fact; I would have greatly prefered a clean break with a new setting—Bug-themed dragons in a slightly more contemporary, developed environment sounds fascinating and full of potential. I don’t hate Pantala or the new characters.
I just... I can’t really do this again. I can’t handle the thought of Pyrrhia coming back post-Darkstalker, with Winter showing up and talking to these guys again like nothing happened, seeming like a different person, joking around with them like his entire character wasn’t dragged through a mountain of manure to make the plot bend a certain way. I think as long as this is the ending that the story is continuing from, seeing that would just make me miserable.
Maybe I will just stay in the parts of the story that I fell in love with. And imagine a version of reality in which Pantala is allowed to exist on its own, where Swordtail was the fourth POV character of arc 3, where Queen Wasp stayed the villain throughout, and Snowfall got her own legends book about how she reformed Icewing society and fixed all the shit that poisoned Winter’s life, so future generations don’t have to suffer through the same stuff he did.
~~~~~
If you’re still with me, thank you for reading this far. I think this is everything I ever thought about the finale of the second story arc, so now I never have to talk about it again. Writing this was difficult. I found it crushing at times. This will probably stand as the only overtly negative post I have ever made on this blog. I love Wings of Fire, and I want to celebrate it. To add to it, not tear it down.
I hope this wasn’t too boring, or painful, or frustrating, or soul-crushing to read through. I’ll see you later, hopefully with a more constructive post.
#wings of fire#dragon#wof#digital art#wof art#flawseer art#flawseer talk#flawseer reply#wof winter#long post#long winded
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Antis : Zutara shippers mischaracterised Katara by saying that she acts motherly towards Aang.
Forgive me if I consider it motherly, when two characters have exactly the same gesture as La Pieta (an art of Virgin Mary cradles the body of her son, Jesus).
The writers actually admitted that they were inspired by La Pieta, so I'm not just assuming. And the writers also said, their dynamic like babysitter and a kid she look after
Out of the 'mischaracterised' thing - because the writers themselves admit that - for some people, such a dynamic doesn't feel romantic, but weird. Very, very weird.
Antis : Katara never has feelings for Zuko. In fact, Katara is like a little sister that Zuko always wanted.
Oh yeah, a little sister who touches his face and thumb on his lips. Is that a normal thing for siblings to do???
It's also funny to me, because as far as I know Katara never examine someone's wound first when she heal them, she always streams water onto her palm and heal them straight away.
Like what she did to Jet...
Or to Aang...
Or even to Zuko in final battle...
So, what exactly did Katara think of Zuko in the Crystal Catacombs when she touched his scars????
Unless...
Antis : Zutara is the worst ship ever! Zuko and Katara can never be together. Their elements are opposites and do not mix well.
Yeah, fire and water are opposite, they can't understand each others and work together. Ever!
And it's not like there's a movie specifically about the elements of fire and water falling in love and find a way to be together, they touch each other and make steam has ever existed.
Bonus :
And they're kissing in the end
Oh, I'm sure they just forgot to say 'yet'.
Antis : I don't understand Zutara shippers. Zuko and Katara has no chemistry at all!!
Okay, well, this is the meaning of chemistry in relationship 👇🏽
For example, a story about a man who dies to save a princess he loves.
Meanwhile the princess tries her best to save him, regardless of the dangers ahead.
Despite being badly injured and very weak, the man tries to reach the princess, knowing that she is in danger.
When there's a chance, the princess grabs the man she loves who dying of his injury. She looks very sad, worried, and afraid of losing him.
The princess has the ability to heal, usually she uses her magic hair, but this time she heals the man using her tears (which means water). Miraculously, the water healed the man.
After he recovers, the man slowly opens his eyes, he looks at the princess and smile at her.
And the princess smile back in happiness.
This love story only beautiful if there is chemistry between the characters, right? Now, I wonder, which ATLA characters have the same story narrative???
#zutara#pro zutara#zuko x katara#zuko and katara#atla zutara#anti anti zutara#anti kataang#antikataang#anti bryke#zutara was robbed
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I just read a post quoting Steven Moffat saying Sherlock couldn’t be asexual because there’d be “no fun in that”. I was wondering why Somerton’s “only the boring gays survived AIDS” sounded familiar. I remember how you talked about Moffat on the Ayesphere and was curious if you had any thoughts on this? The idea that people need to be ‘exciting’ always left a bad taste in my mouth.
From what limited interaction I’ve had with the man -- which included him making inappropriate comments about my underage bridesmaids who just happened to be wearing TARDIS blue dresses -- I think Moffat is a mediocre writer who draws almost exclusively from his own experiences, which are far more limited and not so nearly clever and worldly as he thinks.
He also completely misunderstands and mischaracterizes the characters of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson as pertains to the original source material, so anything he says about Sherlock Holmes needing to fuck to be exciting can be dismissed not only with a grain of salt but chucked full heartedly out the window.
You can create “exciting” stories that aren’t about fucking. To claim otherwise is to show your hand, not only in terms of your lack of skill as a writer but also in terms of your own emotional depth.
Yes, sex is essential for some people. It is a driving factor of their existence. It's a fairly large part of mine. But if you cannot grasp the need as a storyteller to examine the emotional and psychological aspects of sexuality beyond “person pretty, want smash” and belittle other people for wanting to explore other types of intimacy or exploration, you’re just a bit shit, both as a writer and a person.
There is more to life and human intimacy than sex. And I say that as the walking, talking stereotype of the greedy polyam bisexual kinkster constantly being driven to distraction by pretty people.
Like, c’mon, ace Sherlock Holmes using sex like trapping someone under a glass to get a better look at them is practically canon in Moffat’s own interpretation of him. He’s just so mad that the character could be read as anything other than heterosexual and meanly-clever like him to realize it.
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More info (and insane screenshots) from the House MD DS game for those who want to know.
Way, way too much info under the break!!
The game took me about 5 hours to play total, including pauses for screenshots and cackling laughter. There are 5 cases, and each one has: the main case, a clinic patient, and a small subplot about Cuddy that strings through all 5 cases and concludes at the end of the game. It's extremely linear. To solve the case, you do activities when you are prompted, each having its own types of mini games. Activities include: examining the patient, ddx-ing, running tests, running labs, questioning the patient/friends/family, and searching houses/other areas for clues. All of these mini games suck. The best one is when House has to have an epiphany so you play brick breaker with his brain:
WHEN YOU DDX THEY USE THE MOUSE BITES PHOTO
You'll notice here that the visuals are a little uncanny valley. The likenesses are... not good.
The worst offender is 13, who always looks just a little bit off.
One of my favorite parts of the game is that you get graded on your performance and if you do bad, Cuddy doms you.
And when you do good, Wilson kind of negs you?? Feels like the people who made this game were obsessed with him (same). The contrast in these two screenshots really gets me.
More insane top screen screenshots without context:
Honestly, some of my favorites need both screens to really be appreciated:
I do not recommend playing it, really. These are the best parts, and the game itself is slow and can be frustrating. There is also... a lot of problematic nonsense. Worse than the show. Not going to try to make excuses here.
That being said, it's surreal. House is like a bad stand up comic for most of the game, and so much is out of character - House visits the patient FIRST THING every case, the whole team misses very obvious deductive leaps, there's no gay sex, etc, etc, etc. But at the same time, the people who made the game clearly had a love for the show. It follows the typical structure of an episode faithfully and has some detailed, satisfying visuals in it. Everyone's clothes change each episode, even in their little bottom of the screen sprites. This Wilson makes me happy with his show-accurate mug and hand gesture:
And there are some nice interiors/exteriors of the hospital and better rendered pictures that make me smile:
It made me and my friends laugh a lot. And it also makes me a little sad. I spent a lot of my childhood playing shitty licensed games like this (remember the madagascar one???), but they are mostly a thing of the past. I know they were cash-grab trash, but it's odd that there's this genre of game that doesn't really get made any more. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm glad this game exists.
Anyway, here's an upsetting House and Wilson for the road:
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Mouthwashing, Dual Protagonists, and Captain Curly
While the vast majority of Mouthwashing is shown from Jimmy's perspective, the events leading up to the Tulpar's crash usually follow Curly. There are several interesting reasons for this, but there's one reason in particular that I'd like to focus on.
By setting Jimmy and Curly up as dual protagonists, we're invited to draw comparisons between them. Not only are they the lenses through which we view the story, they pass the role of Captain back and forth between their chapters.
It's easy to feel sympathy for Curly, given the state he spends the larger part of the game in. It can also be easy to gloss over his more subtle shortcomings when measuring him up against Jimmy.
In this post, I want to take a closer look at Curly's character. And more specifically, how he relates to one of the game's most obvious themes.
Is Curly able to deal with the consequences of his actions? Does he realize his own failures and how they harm the people around him? What does he do with the power he's granted over others?
Does Curly take responsibility?
Jimmy's fixation here gives us a good jumping-off point. It's certainly possible that he's only really been told this once or twice, but because he's Jimmy he's blown it out of proportion out of spite. It's also possible he's entirely making it up because he's projecting, but I think the former is more likely if anything.
And, if I had to take a guess where he heard it from, I'd put my money on The Pony Express itself.
In the eyes of The Pony Express, a "great leader" isn't someone diligent or able to meet the needs of his crew. The real reason Curly was able to rise to the top of the ladder and become captain is because he gets the job done without rocking the boat.
I'm establishing all this because I think it's worth examining by what metric he's being judged. Because, while it may be Jimmy who most often digs this point up, Curly doesn't disagree with him. Even in the depths of his ennui, it's important to him that not only is he the Captain, but a good one at that.
When comparing the two, that can again seem difficult to argue against. Jimmy is quick to lash out and shift blame. His resentment and insecurities often drive him to pick fights. Curly prefers to avoid conflict, but knows his position doesn't always allow him to do so. He tries to pick his battles, but when he has to get involved he focuses on de-escalating the situation.
But although their similarities are few, they do exist. And they greatly influence the narrative. Because it is from their shared selfishness, callousness, and cowardice that the entire story is born.
It's time to address the elephant in the room. We can't draw any conclusions about Curly's nature, his character, his role in the story, and his relationship to its themes without digging into his handling of Anya's assault, and the chain of events that follow.
I find it interesting that we never see the initial conversation Anya has with Curly about the assault. We simply know that she confided in him. He is the Captain, after all. The crew is his responsibility.
The thing is, we don't really need to know the exact conversation they shared, because we can imagine it went quite similarly to their conversation about her pregnancy.
She tells him how scared she is. She fears for her life. It never even occurred to him that she was upset about anything other than losing her job. He swears to her that everything will be fine. They'll fix this. All he has to do is talk to Jimmy.
He does not talk to Jimmy.
Maybe the first time he really did intend to. He just needed time. Jimmy has always had... struggles. If we want to, we can be generous to Curly, we can assume his old problems were much less vile. Otherwise, he would have never pulled the strings to get him this job, never put him in a position of power over vulnerable people. Right? But now, this was whole new beast altogether. Because he and Jimmy go way back, he had to process this, figure out what he was even supposed to say.
But at the same time, The Pony Express had just gone gone under. He'd been struggling with dissatisfaction and indecision for so long, and now his hand has been forced. He has his own problems. And Anya seems fine, doesn't she? If she hadn't said anything, he'd never have even known there was anything wrong. It just doesn't seem that important.
Anya talks to Jimmy herself.
She's scared, she fears for her life. But now she knows now that Curly won't defend her, nor give her the means to defend herself. Still, he promises her, they'll fix this. He just has to talk to Jimmy.
Things are different now. He can't sit by and wait for things to work out anymore. After all, it's not only her problem anymore.
Now it's Curly's problem too. How is he supposed to find another job with this on his record? There's only one other person on this ship who understands what he's going through.
He talks to Jimmy.
And he understands. Not that what he did was wrong, of course. Not that he'd done something horrific, irreversible, cruel. But that it now had consequences, and that he wouldn't suffer them alone.
Curly made his decision. He chose his paper-thin illusion of peace and his eroding friendship with Jimmy over the safety and well-being of his crew. And when it all came tumbling down, he decided it was better to bury them all under the rubble than to face the struggle to rebuild.
If Jimmy hadn't been there, hadn't been his co-pilot, Curly almost certainly would not have been able to bring himself to actually follow through with something so selfish and reckless.
But Jimmy was there, and Curly made sure of that.
So, it's time to ask again. Does Curly take responsibility?
Well, yes.
But it's too little, too late.
As much as Mouthwashing is about Jimmy fighting furiously against the consequences of his actions, it is also about Curly being forced to watch them unfold anyway. His silence and inaction, once a choice, are inflicted upon him by his mangled body.
Jimmy may have crashed the ship, but Curly gave him the keys. And so it's fitting in the end that Curly is made to take the full weight of responsibility by the man who he helped avoid it so many times.
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing spoilers#curly mouthwashing#jimmy mouthwashing#analysis & discussion#cw rape mention#long post
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Diversity Win: Is "Crazy Rich" POC Representation Necessarily Empowering?
sodapopsculptor asked:
I’m writing a story with two sets of protagonists: A trio with a Black girl, a Latino, and a Vietnamese-American boy who all come from middle-upper class to ridiculously rich families, and a pair of white working-middle class sisters. They’re all heroes of this story. I’ve seen way too many rich white people and poor poc people in fiction, and I’m kinda getting sick of it, but I’m worried that by having the poc kids be rich and the white girls not so much, I’ll be reinforcing the idea that poc somehow rule the world. The only time the rich kids use their status as leverage is when the Asian threatens to sic his cop dad on a bully (race unstated but I imagined him as white) picking on a freshman, and during the Black girl’s birthday party, when she pays the biggest jock there fifty bucks (And later says offhandedly that it was just what she had in her pocket) to chase off a creep hitting on her.
OP, have you ever seen the “diversity win!” meme before?
I understand that your motivation for these narrative choices is to give POC a chance, if you will, to be the rich characters. But it is evident from this ask that you have not asked yourself what this entails. I want to ask you to critically examine the race and class intersections you’re creating here, as well as these kids’ roles in oppressive systems.
You explain that these rich POC are heroes and only have righteous reasons for leveraging their power.
But is your Black girl character aware of the potential disciplinary and/or legal consequences her jock accomplice might face while she has the resources to keep her hands clean? Are you?
Is your Asian character aware of how much of an abuse of power it is to “sic” a cop on someone, and the sheer amount of harm a criminal record or incarceration does to a juvenile with behavior issues? Are you?
So you want to put POC in positions of power for #representation.
Does it resonate with the group you’re representing?
Do you research and portray the unique ways race, ethnicity, class, and majority vs. minority status come together?
Or are you putting these characters in oppressive hegemonic roles for the sake of a power fantasy, on behalf of a group you're not even in?
To your question, you're not reinforcing the idea that "POC rule the world" because such a generalized belief does not exist. Instead, you're reinforcing:
The idea that society has “winners” and “losers.”
The idea that the problem with disproportionately powerful people is the lack of “equal opportunity” as opposed to the power imbalance to begin with.
The idea that those in oppressive positions of power need only have the right intentions to justify their use of it.
To be clear: that is not to say that you can't have jerk aristocrat billionaire millionaire crazy rich POC. Evil or mean rich characters are fun! I have some myself! You can even have rich characters who are gentle-hearted and well-intentioned, but you have to know the ways in which they’re privileged and decide how aware of that your characters are. That’s no problem.
But if you think that wealthy and powerful POC would have the same values and priorities as their poorer counterparts, you’re deluding yourself. There’s a reason why the quote “power corrupts” exists. There’s a reason why no matter where you look on the globe, there are historical dictators and tyrants.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
~ Rina
I fully agree with Rina, and truly want to emphasize the last paragraph.
If you want bratty rich POC who lack regard for the consequences of their actions, because you want bratty rich characters, great! If you want them because it would be uplifting or empowering representation? You’re doing it for the wrong reason.
I don't think you need to aim to subvert or purposely make all the BIPOC rich and powerful and the white people poor and suffering. Add diversity and include upper class rich and class privileged BIPOC, sure thing! And you can avoid your fears of intentional subversion message by including rich and powerful white characters as well, even if they're not the focus of your story. Just their existence helps. You could also include middle-class characters of Color as well.
More reading: Black in upper-class society
~Mod Colette
#class#upper class#capitalism#POC#creator responsibility#asks#representation#wealth#privilege#subverting tropes#intersectionality#crazy rich asians#last edited 1/8/24
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The fandom echo chamber: fanon, microanalysis and conspiracy brain
As someone who has been in fandom spaces, on and off, for 20 years, I find some fascinating trends popping up in the last decade that I thought to be fandom-specific but clearly aren’t. So, I would like to do a little examination of where those things come from, how they are engaged with, and what it says about the way we consume media. This is a think piece, of sorts, with my brain being the main source. As such, we will spend some time down the memory lane of a fandom-focused millennial.
This is largely brought about by Good Omens. But it’s also not really about Good Omens at all.
Part one. Fanon.
The way we see characters in any story is always skewed by our very selves. This is a neutral statement, and it does not have a value judgement. It’s simply unavoidable. We recognise aspects of them, love aspects of them, and choose aspects of them to highlight based entirely on our own vision of the universe.
Recognition comes into this. There is a reason so many protagonists of romance novels have a “blank slate” problem. Even when they do not, we love characters who are like us or versions of us that we would like to be. And when we say “we”, I also mean, “me”.
(I remember very clearly this realisation hit me after a whole season of Doctor Who with writing which I hated utterly when I questioned why I still clung so incredibly hard to Clara Oswald as my favourite companion. Then I looked at myself in the mirror. Oh. Well. That would do it, wouldn’t it?)
Then, there is projection, and, again, this is a neutral statement. Projection exists, and it is completely normal and, dare I say it, valid way of engaging with — well, anything. Is the character queer? Trans? Neurodivergent? Are they in love? Do they like chocolate? Are they a cat person? Well, yes, if this is what the text says, but if the text does not say anything… You tell me. Please, do tell me. Because, in that moment of projection, they are yours.
And then, there is fandom osmosis, and that is the most fascinating one of them all, the one that is not very easy to note while you are inside the echo chamber. It’s the way we collectively, consciously or not, make decisions on who or what the characters are, what their relationships are, and what happens to them.
(Back when I was writing egregiously long Guardian recaps on this blog I actually asked if Shen Wei’s power being learning actually was stated anywhere in the canon of the show. Because I had no idea. I have read and reread dozen of fanfics where that is the case, and at some point through enough repetition, it became reality.)
We are all kind of making our own reality here, aren’t we?
Back when things were happening in a much less centralised manner - in closed livejournal groups, and forums of all shapes and sizes - I don’t remember there being quite as much universally agreed upon fanon. Frankly, I don’t remember much of universally agreed upon anything. But now, everything is in one place: we have this, and we have AO3, and it’s wonderful, it really is so much easier to navigate, but it’s also one gigantic reality-shifting echo chamber, with blogs, reblogs, trends, and rituals.
Accessibility plays its part, too. If you were, say, in Life on Mars (UK) fandom between seasons, and you wanted to post your speculation fic, you had to have had an account, and then find and gain access to one of the bigger groups (lifein1973 was my poison, but ymmv), and then, if you feel brave you may post it, but also, you may want to do so from your alt account if you wanted to keep yours separate, and then you would have to go through the whole process again. And I’m not saying that fan creations then were somehow inherently better for it than fan creations now (although Life on Mars Hiatus Era is perhaps a bad example - because some of the Speculation Fic there was breathtaking), but there is something to say about the ease of access that made the fandoms go through a big bang of sorts.
(I mean, come on, I can just come here and post this - and I am certain people will read it, and this blog is a pandemic cope baby about Chinese television for goodness sake.)
The canon transformations that happen in the fandom echo chamber truly are fascinating to witness as someone who is more or less a fandom butterfly. I get into something, float around for a bit, then get into something else and move on. I might come back eventually when the need arises, but I don’t sustain a hiatus mind-state. This means that when I float away and return, I find some very intriguing stuff.
Let’s actually look at Good Omens here. Season two aired, and I found it spectacular in its cosy and anguished way; deliberately and intelligently fanfic-y in its plot building; simple but subversive, and so very tender. (I will have to circle back to this eventually, because, truly, I love how deliberately it takes the tropes and shatters them - it’s glorious). And, to me - a person who read the book, watched the first season, hung around AO3 for a few weeks and moved on - absolutely on-point in terms of characterisation.
So imagine my surprise when the fandom disagreed so vehemently that there are actual multi-tiered theories on how characters were not in possession of their senses. Nothing there, in my mind, ever contradicted any of the stated text, as it stood. This remained a strange little mystery until I did what I always do when I flutter close to an ongoing fandom.
I loaded AO3 and sorted the existing fic by popularity. And there it was, all there: the actual earth-shattering mutual devotion of the angel and the demon; willingness to Fall; openness and long heart-aching confession speeches. There was all of the fanon surrounding Aziraphale and Crowley, which, to me, read as out of character, and to one for whom they became the reality over the last four years, read as truth.
Again, only neutral statements here. This is not a bad thing, and neither this is a good thing, this is just something that happens, after a while, especially when there are years for the fandom-born ideas to bounce around and stew. I can’t help but think that so much of what we see as real in spaces such as this one is a chimaera of the actual source and all the collective fan additions which had time and space to grow, change, develop, and inspire, reverberating over and over again, until the echoes fill the entirety of the space.
Eventually, this chimaera becomes a reality.
Part two. Microanalysis
Here are my two suppositions on the matter:
1. Some writers really love breadcrumb storytelling.
Russel T Davies, for instance, on his run of Doctor Who (and, if you are reading it much later - I do mean the original one), loved that technique for his seasonal arcs. What is a Bad Wolf? Who is Harold Saxon? Well, you can watch very very carefully, make a theory, and see it proven right or wrong by the end of the season.
Naturally, mystery box writers are all about breadcrumb storytelling: your Losts and your Westworlds are all about giving you snippets to get your brain firing, almost challenging you to figure things out just ahead of the reveal.
2. We, as humans, love breadcrumbs.
And why wouldn’t we? Breadcrumbs are delicious. They are, however, a seasoning, or a coating. They are not the meal.
Too much metaphor?
Let’s unpack it and start from the beginning.
Pattern recognition colours every aspect of our lives, and it colours the way we view art to a great extent. I think we truly underestimate how much it’s influenced by our lived experiences.
If you are, broadly speaking, living somewhere in Western/North-Western Europe in the 14th century, and you see a painting in which there is a very very large figure surrounded by some smaller figures and holding really tiny figures, you may know absolutely nothing about who those figures are, but you know that the big figure is the Important One, and the small ones are Less Important Ones, and the tiny ones are In Their Care. You know where your reverence would lie, looking at this picture. And, I imagine, as someone living in the 14th century, you may be inspired to a sense of awe looking at this composition, because in the world you live in, this is how art works.
If you, on the other hand, watch a piece of recorded media and see the eyes of two characters meet as the violins swell, you know what you are being told at that moment. You don’t have to have a film degree to feel a sort of way when you see a green-tinged pallet used, when cross-cuts use juxtaposing images, or notice where your focus is pulled in any given shot. This stuff - this recognition of patterns - has been trained into us by the simple fact that we live in this time, on this planet, and we have been doing so long enough to have engaged recorded media for a period of time.
As humans, we notice things. Our brains flare up when they see something they recognise, and then we seek to find other similar details and form a bigger picture. This often happens unconsciously, but sometimes it does not. Sometimes we do it on purpose: finding breadcrumbs in stories is a little bit like solving a mystery. It allows us to stretch that brain muscle that puts two and two together. It makes us feel clever.
So yes, we love breadcrumbs, and, frankly, quite a lot of storytelling takes advantage of this. It’s very useful for foreshadowing, creating thematic coherence, or introducing narrative parallels and complexity. It’s useful for nudging the viewer into one or the other emotional direction, or to cue them into what will happen in the next moment, or what exactly is the one important detail they should pay attention to.
Because this is something media does intentionally, and something we pick up both consciously and not, it is very hard to know when to stop. We don't really ever know when all of the breadcrumbs have been collected. It becomes very easy to get carried away. There is a very specific kind of pleasure in digging into content frame by frame, soundbite by soundbite, chasing that pleasure of finding.
But it is almost never breadcrumbs all the way down. They are techniques to help us focus on the main event: the story. I truly believe those who make media want it to reach the widest possible audience, and that includes all of us who like to watch every single thing ever created with our Media Analysis Goggles on and those who are just here to enjoy the twists and turns of the story at the pace offered to them. And I think, sometimes in our chase to collect and understand every little clue we forget that media is not made to just cater for us.
One can call it missing a forest for the trees. But I would hate to mix my metaphors, so let’s call it missing a schnitzel for the breadcrumbs.
Part three. The Conspiracy Brain.
If you are there with me, in the midst of the excited frenzy, chasing after all those delicious breadcrumbs, then patterns can grow, merge together, and become all-encompassing theories. Let’s call them conspiracy theories, even though this is not what they truly are.
So, why do we believe in conspiracy theories?
One, Because We Have Been Lied To.
All conspiracies start with distrust.
If you are in fandom spaces - especially if you are in fandom spaces which revolve around a queer fictional couple - especially-especially if you have been in such spaces for a period of time, you have most certainly been lied to at one point or another.
We don’t even have to talk about Sherlock - and let’s not do that - but do you remember Merlin? Because I remember Merlin. Specifically, I remember the publicity surrounding the first season, with its weaponised usage of “bromance” and assertions that this whole thing is a love story of sorts, and then the daunting realisation that this was all a stunt, deliberately orchestrated to gather viewership.
And, because we were lied to in such a deliberate manner for such an extensive period of time, I genuinely believe that it forever altered our pattern recognition habits, because what was this if not encouragement to read into things? Now we are trained to read between the lines or see little cries for help where they might not be. Because we were told, over and over again, that we should.
(Yes, I think we are all existing in these spaces coloured by the trauma of queer-bating. I am, however, looking forward to a world where I can unlearn all of that.)
Two, Cognitive Dissonance.
The chain reaction works a bit like this: the world is wrong - it can’t possibly be wrong by coincidence - this must be on purpose - someone is responsible for it.
Being Lied To is a preamble, but cognitive dissonance is where it all originates. In so many cross-fandom theories I have noticed a four-step process:
A) this is not good
B) this author could not have made a mistake
C) this must be done on purpose
D) here is why
(Funny thing is, I have been on the receiving end of the small conspiracy spiral, and it is a very interesting experience. Not relevant to this conversation is the fact that a lot of my job revolves around storytelling. What is relevant is that my hobbies also revolve around storytelling. And one of them is DnD. Now, imagine my genuine shock when one of the players I am currently writing a campaign for noticed a small detail that did not make a logical sense within the complexity of the world, and latched on to it as something clearly indicating some kind of a secret subplot. Their thinking process also went a bit like this: this detail is not a good piece of writing — this DM knows how to tell stories well — this is obviously there on purpose. It was not there on purpose. I created a clumsy shorthand. I erred, in that pesky manner humans tend to. And, seeing this entire thought process recited to me directly in the moment, I felt somewhere between flattered and mortified.)
This whole line of thinking, I think, exists on a knife’s edge between veneration and brutal criticism, relentlessly dissecting everything “wrong”, with a reverent “but this is deliberate” attached to it like a vice, because it is preferable to a simple conclusion that the author let you down, in one way or another.
Three, Intentionality
I believe that there is no right or wrong way of engaging with stories, regardless of their medium, and assuming no one gets hurt in the process. While in a strictly academic way, there is a “correct” way of reading (and reading into) media, we here are largely not academics but consumers; consumption is subjective.
However, this all changes when intentionality is ascribed.
The one I find particularly fascinating is the intentionality of “making it bad on purpose” because, as open-minded as I intend to always be, this just does not happen.
It certainly does not happen in long-form media. Even in the bread-crumb mystery box-type long-form media.
When television programs underdeliver, they also underperform, and then they get cancelled.
If all the elements of Westworld Season 4 that did not sit together in a completely satisfactory way were written deliberately as some sort of deconstruction for the final season to explore, then it failed because that final season will now never come.
(There will likely never be a Secret Fourth Episode.)
And look, I am not here to refute your theories. Creativity is fun, and theorising is fantastic.
But, perhaps, when the line of thought ventures into the “bad on purpose” territory, it could be recognised for what it is: disappointment and optimism, attempting to coexist in a single space. And I relate to that, I do, and I am sorry that there is even a need for this line of thinking. It’s always so incredibly disappointing that a creator you believed to be devoid of flaws makes something that does not hit in the way you hoped it would. It’s pretty heartbreaking.
Unfortunately, people make mistakes. We are all fallible that way.
Four, Wildfire.
Then, when the crumbs are found, a theory is crafted, and intentionality is ascribed, all that needs to happen is for it to catch on. And hey, what better place for it than this massive hollow funnel that we exist in, where thoughts, ideas and interpretations reverberate so much they become inextricable from the source material in collective consciousness.
Conspiracy theories create alternate realities, very much like we all do here.
So where are we now?
I am not here to tell you what is right and what is wrong; what is true, and what is not. We are all entitled to engage with anything we wish, in whichever way we wish to do it. This is not it, at all.
All I am saying is… listen.
Do you hear that echo?
I do.
#fandom thoughts#fanon#good omens#good omens 2#bbc sherlock#merlin bbc#think piece#it's been years and I still have no idea how to tag#conspiracy theories#fandom content#all fandoms
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*cw: this theory deals with child sexual abuse and has mentions of suicidal ideation and eating disorders.
*If you or anyone you know is going through this, you can find resources here, here and here as well as a list of international hotlines.
Obanai is probably the second most hated character in the fandom, and just like Sanemi, he’s one of the most misunderstood. I think the hate he gets from the fandom is unwarranted; he’s accused of being a dick, a horrible person, a simp and a character who only exists to be Mitsuri’s love interest. All of which is unfair, sure he’s prickly and unapproachable, but he’s not as bad as the fandom makes him out to be.
So, in my quest to draft a defense for our favorite snek boy, I reread his backstory and in doing so, I realized something sad
Unhinged theory
Obanai is a sexual abuse survivor
Let me explain:
Obanai’s backstory and aspects of his character mirrors that of someone who’s been through sexual trauma. The evidence I'm going to present is a combination of my own knowledge about these matters and information I got from forums and websites for male survivors of sexual abuse. So let's examine them...um spoilers
The snake demon
I believe that the snake demon is a metaphor for a sexual predator. Her inclusion in the family could also be a metaphor for how these predators insert themselves into family units-or most of the time are family members themselves-and abuse the children for years and even generations. Obanai's relatives sacrificing their babies to her could signify the real life actions of families who are unaware or, turn a blind eye to, or sometimes actively participate in the abuse of their children.
The sacrifice in exchange for wealth speaks of how families in real life ignore the abuse of their children to maintain the wealth and status they obtain from being related to and associated with the abuser.
Even her decision to wait, ordering the cutting of his mouth so he would look like her, could be interpreted as her 'grooming' him in a sense.
Even her design has a certain sexual, predatory aspect to it that's different from the other demons.
His relatives
Obanai describes his family members as being 'disgustingly' affectionate and bringing him lots of 'greasy' food that made him sick. Food in media is often used to depict love, affection, connection and sex, and Demon Slayer is no different.
There are plenty of instances where food and the giving of food has been used to denote friendship (Tanjiro giving Zenitsu, Inosuke and Genya meals in an attempt to bond with them), connection (Giyuu wanting to give Sanemi ohagi), love (Tanjiro's love of cooking and the satisfaction he shows when his meals are enjoyed by others) and pleasure (Mitsuri's large appetite). I'll make a post about this later.
With this context, we can interpret their bringing of rich foods, their overbearing attention and affections as them objectifying and even being sexually inappropriate with him.
The sexual abuse
Non-physical.
The first instance of abuse is non-physical, but that doesn't make it any less important. Being constantly visited by the snake demon in his room at night, Obanai described his feelings of terror, being paralyzed and watched. His body would break out in a sweat, and he would be unable to fall asleep.
His descriptions of the experience and his body's reaction to it reminded me of some survivors' stories I read, where they talked about how in the initial stages of the abuse or when the abuser was first introduced into their lives, their abuser would give them unwanted attention, would stare at them in a way that felt creepy, gross and wrong.
Some had their abusers come in to their rooms, maybe under the guise of 'checking in on them'. They described feeling terrified, freezing up with the hopes that the attacker would leave. Some would take measures such as sleeping with the door locked or with a heavy object against it, sleeping with a sibling or parent, sleeping in a hiding spot that the attacker knows nothing about or not sleeping at all.
Physical.
The specific age that the snake demon plans to 'eat' Obanai is never stated, but from what we've seen so far and in the sexual context, we can assume that she's waiting until he hits puberty. Some studies state that the average age of victims of female sex offenders usually falls around 14 years, but there are cases where the female predator waited until their victim reached sexual maturity before they carried out their abuse, like in the case of Mary Kay Letourneau. Here's a video that breaks down an interview she did before her death.
Obanai was 12 when he was dragged out of his cell to be subjected to what I believe is the first physical abuse. He had his mouth slit from ear to ear, with the blood collected and fed to her. The snake demon decided to have him live a little longer, which again, fits into my theory of her wanting to wait until he reached puberty.
Bodily violation, violence and blood are common allegories for sexual assault used in media and in Obanai's backstory we see it being used when his relatives drag him from his cell, literally pin him down, cut his mouth and feed his blood to the snake demon. The act of feeding on his blood could also be a metaphor for the snake demon sexually abusing him.
His escape and the resulting fallout
Obanai managed to escape, and although he was tracked down by the snake demon, he was saved by Shinjuro Kengoku before she could kill him. His cousin's response was to blame him for all that happened, asked why he ran away, and said that he should have 'allowed' the demon to eat him.
This could represent how some victims are rejected, ostracized and criticized for speaking out against their attacker, exposing the abuse to the public and getting help. Their families would say 'you should have just let it happen', 'you destroyed the family', 'why did you run away, tell people?' and place the blame on the victim.
Obanai's reaction
There are three aspects of his characterization that are similar to the common reactions noticed in adult survivors of sexual assault, especially male survivors.
His appearance.
His behavior.
His beliefs.
His appearance
Obanai has a small frame that he hides with his baggy uniform and haori. I can tell it's baggy compared to that of the other slayers because of the width of his pants vs the width of his lower legs. Desexualization or hypo-sexualization is a common response among some survivors of sexual trauma, this usually involves wearing clothes and taking measures to make themselves look 'unattractive'.
'But this side feels more comfortable for me, like the baggy clothes I wear, which hide my body, and the long sleeves which reach past my wrists. I promised myself no man would ever touch me again, and whether it was a moment of triumph, or a moment of defeat, I still don't know.'
'I'm thin, shy. I seem easy to dominate. I've grown a beard. That's helped a little. I dress in baggy clothes, covering as much of my skin as possible. That makes me feel safe.'
This not only helps regain a sense of control and power over their body but also serves as a protective measure against sexual advances so they don't get abused again.
In Obanai, given his history of receiving unwanted, suffocating and 'disgusting' attention from his female relatives, it would make sense that he would want to dress in a way that makes him unapproachable and hides his body from the opposite sex. We can see his attempts to desexualize himself in the picture below:
His behavior
'Iguro has difficulty with girls. Due to his experiences growing up, he was unable to conquer his fear and animosity. Plus, the firls who joined the Demon Slayer Corps often put on brave faces because of their sad backgrounds, so he felt sorry for them, making him uncomfortable in a different way.' - Taisho Whispers, official English translation.
'Iguro-san isn't good with women. Due to his upbringing he has a fear and disgust towards women. (I couldn't overcome it easily. The women who joined the Demon Slayer Corps have painful stories of determination. I felt sorry for them and I didn't get along with them in a way that was different from the way I got along with my family)' - Taisho Whispers, direct-sort-of-shitty translation via Google Translate.
Male survivors who were victims of childhood abuse by female perpetrators often talk about how the abuse greatly affected their relationships with women or lack thereof. Some going so far as to say that they became afraid of women, being around them and how sometimes being touched by women would trigger panic attacks and remind them of the trauma.
Here are some quotes posted in a thread on the Male Survivor forum. Full thread here.
'Once that happened, my genophobia became more intense. I couldn't ware short trousers in summer, could never go swimming, got paranoid if I touched a woman's arm or even brushed against one, would always stand at a distance from female friends, and would literally leave the room if anything explicit was discussed.'
'I have started to have strange, deep discomforting feelings as I remember some of the assaults and I have gotten to a place where touch from a woman makes my hair stand up, makes me nauseous, and gives me chills and feelings of dread.'
Obanai has similar responses when he finds himself in proximity to women. We're only told about it in the main manga, but it's shown in the Gakuen. I know the Gakuen takes place in an alternate universe, but aside from the events, the behaviors of the characters are based on their actual personalities in the main manga, so we can safely say the reactions he displays in the Gakuen is canon to his character.
His beliefs
Adult survivors of sexual abuse often struggle with feelings of guilt, rage, and shame. In the manga, Obanai talks about being held back by the decaying hands of his family members, which could represent the long-lasting effects of sexual abuse and how some survivors carry these burdens all through adulthood or throughout their lives.
There's also the thoughts about himself that echo the heartbreaking thoughts shared by some male survivors.
Guilt:
"As the member of a filthy family, I too was corrupt. My sins were deep, so I could not live a normal life"
Rage:
"With no other outlet, I turned all my rage on demons in a grudge of intense hatred. By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."
Shame:
"Unless I die and come back in a different body in which this filthy blood does not flow, I have no right to be with you."
Suicidal ideation(mild):
"By risking my life for others, I felt as if I could in some way become a slightly better person."
"I want to die defeating Muzan." (He's the only character that I know of that outright says this.)
He also kind-of expresses his feelings of being weak during the fight with Muzan:
"I've accomplished less in this battle than anyone! I wish I could deliver a more effective attack."
While this quote isn't exactly definite, a feeling of being weak, or being 'less of a man' is also a common experience shared by male sexual assault survivors.
The scar and It's symbolism
The scar is a physical manifestation of the lifelong effect that sexual abuse has on its victims and the stigma it carries. For Obanai, it's not just a painful reminder of the trauma he suffered at the hands of his family, but also a reminder to him that he's like his attacker, the snake demon. The bandages he wraps around his mouth symbolizes not just his attempts to hide his trauma, but also his inability to talk about it due to shame and fear, which is unfortunately an all too common experience of male survivors.
Another struggle survivors often experience is with intimacy, romantic relationships and sex. For Obanai, I believe that this struggle is represented by his eating disorder. The link between food and sex is a well established belief in many cultures, people with large appetites can be seen as having equally high sex drives while people with small appetites have little or no sex drive.
As he grows older, his little appetite is basically him curbing his growing sexual desire, which he sees as ugly, like the scar on his mouth. But the thing is Obanai wants love, he wants to love and be loved, to be intimate with another person, but he feels he doesn't deserve it, after all he's filthy, shameful and probably a predator just like the snake demon. So he starves himself, suffering in silence with the belief that he was disgusting, that no one would ever love him, that he was destined to and deserved to be alone.
Then he met Mitsuri.
In Conclusion, Obanai is way more complex than the KnY fandom gives him credit for. This is a man that went through immense suffering, and it's really sad to see people hate on him because he isn't 'nice'.
Well, that's just how life is. Trauma doesn't exactly make nice people. We can't all be like Giyuu or Tanjiro(bestest boy ❤), a lot of us are like Obanai, Sanemi, and even Shinobu, a lot of us are angry, and why shouldn't we be?
...
*Phew, ok so this one has been in the drafts for a while because I was scared to post such a dark subject matter and also I needed to be really sure I wasn't just talking out of my ass but after rereading his backstory and analyzing aspects of his character, I'm more confident about this.
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#kny#obamitsu#obanai iguro#tw: csa#tw: ed#unhinged theory#unhinged analysis#hashira#demon slayer academy#demon slayer hashira#mitsuri kanroji#might make edits later#kny spoilers#kny analysis#obanai x mitsuri
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Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 1
This is a post series I've been planning for a while and I've finally had the time to complete part 1! 😃 I may have mentioned here before that I got my B.A. in Japanese/East Asian Studies, and even though I'm not fluent, I know the linguistics of the language fairly well. So I thought it would be fun to examine the interesting aspects of the Japanese version of the SxF manga that aren't reflected in the English translation. It might also be an informative experience for those who don't know any Japanese to learn a bit about the language through SxF! I'll try not to get too technical with the linguistics and keep my explanations at a beginner's level.
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Part 1 - Twilight's "honne and tatemae"
One of the main themes in SxF is how many of the characters have secrets they want to hide, so they act a certain way in front of others in order to mask their true selves. Japanese has a word for this phenomena called 本音と建前 ("honne and tatemae").
I remember learning about the concept of "honne and tatemae" during my Japanese college studies – a quick google search will yield a lot of publications on the topic and its relation to Japanese culture in particular. While the idea of hiding one's true intentions behind a fake facade can exist anywhere and is not something unique to Japan, it is enough of an occurrence in Japanese culture that there are specific words for it. The Wiki article has a basic but good definition of honne and tatemae, to quote:
A person's honne may be contrary to what is expected by society or what is required according to one's position and circumstances, and they are often kept hidden, except with one's closest friends. Tatemae is what is expected by society and required according to one's position and circumstances, and these may or may not match one's honne. In many cases, tatemae leads to outright telling of lies in order to avoid exposing the true inward feelings.
Sounds very much like the characters in SxF, doesn't it? Twilight especially, because unlike other characters like Yor and Anya, who simply have secrets they need to keep but don't create fake personas for themselves, Twilight does – the cheerful, friendly Loid Forger is a different person from the cold, calculating Twilight after all. Also unlike Yor and Anya, who speak the same way consistently no matter who they're talking to, Twilight uses different speech levels depending on which persona he's using and who he's talking to.
There are many different levels of speech in Japanese, ranging from super formal to totally crude. These speech levels are distinguished mostly by the pronouns the speaker chooses to use for themselves and who they're speaking to, as well as how they choose to conjugate the words they use. For example, 座ってください (suwatte kudasai), 座って (suwatte,) and 座れ (suware) all mean "sit," as in, telling someone to sit down. But the tone being conveyed is different: the first one is polite, the second one is casual, and the last one could be seen as rude if you're not using it with a close friend/family member.
As Twilight, he uses casual speech with the masculine and less polite pronoun 俺 or オレ (ore). This is the speech he uses when talking to a fellow spy like Fiona, and for his own inner thoughts.
As Loid Forger, he uses the polite 敬語 (keigo) speech, which is basically comprised of using the -ます (-masu) conjugation for verbs and the "to be" verb です (desu). He also uses the pronoun ボク or 僕 (boku), which is the standard male pronoun and more polite than "ore." He uses keigo to address pretty much everyone who doesn't know his true identity. When talking to a higher-up like Sylvia, he'll still use "ore" but will use polite speech instead of casual speech.
Anya is an exception to this: with her, he uses his most casual speech, the same as he uses with Franky.
I discussed a bit about this in part 24 of my Twiyor analysis posts, but this could be because Anya is a little kid, so he doesn't feel the need to put on any airs with her (same with Bond, whom he also uses casual speech with).
An interesting side note is that, as a child, Twilight used the pronoun "boku" but then changed to "ore" as soon as he became an adult/soldier.
Another aspect of keigo, besides using the more polite forms of pronouns and verb conjugations, is putting the honorific さん (san) after people's names. Twilight does this all the time with Yor, as she does with him. However, he switches to casual speech and drops the "san" part in her name when addressing her in front of people who (supposedly) believe they're a real married couple, such as Yuri and Fiona – because it would be weird for a real couple who have been married for a year to address each other in such a formal way, especially the husband. In the below panel when Fiona visits them, he's calling her "Yor" instead of "Yor-san" and using casual speech instead of keigo.
Oddly in these situations, while he uses just "Yor" when addressing her directly, he still calls her "Yor-san" when talking about her. During Yuri's first visit for example, he calls her "Yor-san" when telling Yuri how much Anya loves her (talking to someone about her) but then calls her just "Yor" a few moments later when telling her that he'll clean up the spill (talking to her directly). It's strange to me that he wouldn't just consistently use "Yor" whether he's talking to her or about her in these situations...I'm honestly not sure if he does this intentionally or if he just slips up since he's so used to using "Yor-san" in her presence.
*UPDATE* Thank you to @dentedintheworld-blog for enlightening me with the below reply about this!
"In Japanese, when speaking to your spouse's family about your spouse, you address her/him by attaching "san" her/his name out of respect for her/his family. This is also to show her/his family that you respect your spouse. That's why Loid calls Yor with san when he talks about how much he loves Yor to Yuri."
That definitely makes sense for why Twilight switches between "Yor" and "Yor-san" in these situations.
Regardless, this is why the scene in chapter 86 is so significant – when Yor isn't present, there's no reason for him to refer to her as "Yor-san," especially in front of a fellow spy like Fiona who knows he (supposedly) shouldn't have any feelings for her. Yet, even after he just called Yuri by his full name "Yuri Briar" a moment before, he doesn't do the same for Yor and continues to call her "Yor-san" here, much to Fiona's dismay.
In the same chapter, it's also significant that he uses "ore" when addressing Yor directly in his thoughts. Even though he's not speaking out loud, I believe this is the first time he's speaking directly "to" her as Twilight and/or his true self and not as Loid Forger.
But despite all this, I think that both Loid Forger and Twilight are tatemae…they're both masks to hide the person he truly is. The person who fondly talked about his mother to Yor on the park bench, the person who genuinely expressed gratitude for her sacrifice when leaving the resort island, the person who refused to kill Yuri in a life-or-death struggle because he knew it would hurt her…that's his actual honne. But of course, the ongoing conflict of the series is that he has yet to realize this. He won't even show his honne to his closest friend, Franky. Seems like it mostly comes out in dribs and drabs during his interactions with Yor...no surprise there, lol. The man is certainly a work in progress. When he finally starts letting his "honne" show, I'm curious what form of speech he'll adopt.
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Continue to Part 2 ->
#spy x family#sxf#spy family#spyxfamily#loid forger#twiyor#sxf spoilers#sxf manga#sxf manga spoilers#sxf analysis
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˚₊‧꒰ა ♡ the first night ♡ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
flee from sexual immorality. every other sin a person commits is outside the body, but the sexually immoral person sins against his own body. - 1 corinthians 6:18
warnings: nothing too smutty yet. suggestive, let's call it that. mentions of abuse and violence. a/n: i'm realising it’s a little slow burn but that's better for the tension building. there's fingering in the next part, just bear with me. also, might be corny at times. i dunno. sorry. this is a part of a longer work ♡ go to the beginning here
soobin's room was a shithole. it had a correctional feel, with sparse furniture and an austere, almost monastic approach to decorations –not one poster, not one framed picture, not one item that didn't have a practical utility– as if he hadn't had an interest in his life.
it freaked beomgyu out how clean it was, and how earnest; everything that was worth seeing could be spotted with a single glance. simple. soobin had shamelessly exposed the stark core of his existence, that is, a plain wall and the depressive charm of a victorian orphanage.
the mattress was rigid, too. unbending. it defeated the whole purpose, beomgyu thought. it irritated him, that someone would make a mattress so hard it was almost a prank item, and that someone else would be stupid enough to buy it. he was sure soobin’s stepfather thought it built character, or some bullshit of the sort.
beomgyu lay there, sprawled out like a starfish, staring up at the ceiling. he couldn’t sleep. not a wink. his stomach was killing him, or maybe it was his liver, or his kidneys – hell, he couldn’t tell anymore. everything just ached, like his whole body was one big bruise.
his dad hadn't just kicked him out. that would have been too kind. no, his dad had kicked him out after beating the shit out of him. real old-school, no-holds-barred kind of beating.
half of his internal organs might have been bleeding out in that moment, but whatever. beomgyu, stubborn as he was, refused to go to the hospital. he hated the clinics, the cold tools, the patronising doctors. he could already picture them, their eyes widening as they examined him, enumerating the parts of his body that were just about to give up. if he was dying, he really didn't wanna know.
they would ask who had done that to him, and if he was sure he didn’t want to press charges. as if. as if he could ever bring himself to do that.
he couldn’t sue his father, he never would. even if his body was falling apart and in ruins. it was their thing. the beatings, the fights. the twisted ritual that kept them tied together. to snitch on his dad would be to betray him, to shatter the only fragile bond they had left.
so there he was, sleepless in soobin’s room, rolling around in the concrete mattress helplessly, restlessly, until he got so bored he couldn’t stand it anymore.
the room was dark and quiet, the kind of quiet that presses down on you, heavy and suffocating. he needed to get up, to do something, anything to distract himself from the pain and the mess in his head.
he decided to go to the kitchen. maybe a glass of water would help, or at least give him something to do. as he got up from the bed, he didn’t worry too much about waking soobin. he knew he very rarely slept. he needed to be alert every second, like closing his eyes would make him too vulnerable.
that was one of the things that fascinated beomgyu about him—how soobin carried that crippling anger with him everywhere, but he never complained, never erupted. if beomgyu’s dad hit him, beomgyu would hit back, an eye for an eye. but when soobin’s stepdad hit soobin, he would just stand there, stiff and quiet like an ancient tree, never saying a word in some militaristic vow of silence.
the hallway was eerily quiet as beomgyu made his way downstairs, each step echoing in the stillness of the night. he moved cautiously, aware of how the house breathed around him, the creaks and groans of the old wood floors amplifying in the nothingness. he didn’t mind the silence though; it gave him space to think, to let his mind wander even as his body throbbed with pain.
he still tried to make as little noise as possible. the last thing he needed was for soobin’s stepdad to wake up and find him rummaging through the kitchen. that man already had a hair-trigger temper, and beomgyu didn’t need another beating tonight. he moved like a shadow, each step calculated, avoiding the spots he knew would creak the loudest.
reaching the kitchen, a thought crossed his mind. if he was lucky, he might just figure out where soobin’s stepdad kept the expensive whiskey. the good stuff, the kind that could numb the pain, at least for a while. he knew he had a hidden stash no one could access, soobin had told him. it was a small, fleeting hope, but it was something to do. a quest to keep him entertained.
slowly, he eased open each cupboard in the kitchen, the hinges protesting with a drawn-out creak. he peered inside, squinting to make out the shapes in the dark.
but a fleeting glimmer caught his eye, halting his breath for a moment. someone, two eyes in the dark. he gasped, startled. he only began to calm down when his eyes started to make out the shape. he cursed at himself for being too jumpy. it was just one of those ceramic figures of virgin and child.
he looked around the room. his eyes had become used to the dark enough for him to guess the shilhouettes. anywhere he looked there was a porcelain veiled lady carrying her holy baby, an agonising jesus on the cross, some martyr saint immortalised in art with the object that gave them death.
everywhere blood, everywhere tears, everywhere fire, swords and stained white cloths. he couldn’t see them properly in the gloom, but the white of the eyes fixated on him so eerily it felt assaultive.
"fucking hell," beomgyu breathed out. that room was like a souvenir store at the vatican. soobin’s stepdad had amassed religious imagery with borderline obsession.
he must want redemption really bad, beomgyu thought. he must have done something unforgivable and now he's trying to buy his way into heaven with catholic merchandise.
the watchful gazes and the silent judgement were starting to weigh down on him, and he was about to give up, thinking maybe he’d better just head back to bed. but in a sudden, careless movement, he turned around and bumped into something soft and warm. a body of flesh. the stepsister.
in a split second, he realized the situation and acted purely on instinct. his hand shot out and clamped over your mouth, muffling any potential scream that might shatter the silence. "don't yell, please don't yell... i'm soobin’s friend." his voice was a harsh whisper, almost a plea. slowly, cautiously, he reached out and flicked on the light switch, still keeping his hand firmly over your mouth. "don't be scared." he murmured, more to himself than to you.
as the light finally flickered to life, it illuminated the room with a harsh, revealing glow. he saw you for the first time.
fuck. his breath caught in his throat. slowly, he released his grasp. he almost felt sorry to have touched you. like he could've stained you, somehow. like he was a foul moth and you were the sunlight.
it all made sense now. why your father guarded you so closely, as if he was keeping something holy. this was the secret they had shielded him from, the thing they didn't want to share—soobin and the stepdad. the face of a doll, with moonlit eyes and sugared strawberry lips, sweet enough to taste. an angel of a girl.
"you're not a kid," he breathed out, the words almost a whisper of disbelief.
you remained silent, standing there, paralysed like a scared rabbit ready to bolt. your instinct to flee would get triggered at the minimum movement from him. he could see that, but he couldn't fight the force –call it divine, call it gravitational– that kept pulling him towards you.
he reached for your hand, and you tried to get away. but he was quicker, seizing your wrist firmly. it didn't hurt, though. he was tender with his grasp. you weren’t used to that. with the slightest pull you could've freed yourself, but you chose not to.
"please, stay with me for a bit," he said, his voice almost as gentle as his touch. "talk to me."
you should’ve flinched. you should’ve yanked your hand away and stormed up to your room, locking the door behind you. but you didn’t. you allowed his grasp on your wrist to shift, to evolve at beomgyu’s will until the handcuffed enclosement turned into his hand sweetly holding yours.
"why?" was the only thing you could muster.
"because i can't sleep," he said, the words falling from his lips. ‘and because i want to look at you forever, christ.’ he thought before calmly adding, "my brain... it thinks too much at night. doesn't come up with the most pleasant thoughts, either. everything's too silent."
"that means you feel guilty." you said.
"yeah," he nodded. he was feverish. thirsty. "exactly."
"i feel like that too," you said. “sometimes.”
beomgyu thought he was going insane. that you weren't even real. some imaginary angel his mind had made up to comfort him just a little. it was the house, he thought, it was like an asylum. the light was too bright, too white. everywhere he looked, jesus christ or the virgin mary would return his gaze. the whole place was designed to keep him away from you, he thought, paranoid. but you didn't fit there. you felt warm and honeyed and lovely. you just didn't belong.
your hand was in his, as secure and mellow as your connected gazes, and he would rather die than let go of it. but he took his other hand up to your face, caressing your cheek with the back of it. it was scorching hot, rosy pink and glazed like an apple.
“you’re very pretty.” he mumbled, almost a purr.
“you can’t say that.”
“beautiful eyes, too.” he said. “sad.”
"my dad doesn't hesitate to hurt people." you said, trying to warn him away. you felt too cozy under his touch to push him yourself.
"i don't care what happens to me." beomgyu said, letting his hand travel to your neck, your hair, your cheek again. he would explore as far as you allowed him to. "but i wouldn't want him to hurt you."
"then leave." you said. but you didn't care what happened to you, either. he could see it in the worry of your eyes. it wasn't a fear for yourself, it was an all-embracing need to protect.
beomgyu shook his head slightly. "i’ll take the blame."
"he will say i brought it upon myself. that i looked for it." you said. "he’ll call me the whore of babylon and make me suffer for it."
you didn't seem as frightened as you seemed certain. not a lost bunny, not the distressed victim. you were aware of your actions and their consequences, intellectually and matter-of-factly. and for the first time in his life, beomgyu held something beautiful and felt not the need to destroy, but to save.
"your daddy can try." he said. "i have a dad of my own, and i know how they are. it’s just hubris. don't be so scared of a man who collects figurines of jesus christ like they're funko pops. he's the one who's terrified, don't you see?"
you smiled slightly, and he liked it so much. how the formerly strained and full of fear muscles of your face relaxed into that adorable grin. how he had done that to you. he was so satisfied, so proud of himself for getting an angel to smile. he wanted to do that forever.
he tried to stop himself from staring at you, fearing you'd get intimidated under his hungry gaze. that you'd fear him. but he couldn't quit. you were his new thirst, his desire unlimited, a beautiful wet dream standing right in front of him.
that stupid white nightdress was giving him such a hard time, too. the two necklaces you wore, so pretty and delicate. the first one, fastened and secured close to your neck was the pearls. he didn't know if they were real or not, he was just some brute before a siren. second was the rosary beads in rose mother-of-pearl, loosely draping over your chest to fall under the fabric of the nightwear, wickedly hidden from beomgyu’s sight.
he assumed they were the kind jewel you never took off. he liked the idea. they seemed so easy to pull on, to hang on to. so ornamental over a naked body. so fucking pretty.
his hand travelled up to the rosary beads, almost with a brain of its own. you swiftly moved your own hand over his to stop him, but you ended up softening your grip and letting him do as he pleased.
“do you sleep with these on?” he asked, softly. "it’s dangerous, you know? you could choke."
“i take them off.” you said. “i just wasn’t going to bed yet. i can't sleep lately. like you.”
of course. you were just like him. morphed by your hostile environment into a broken half-human. an incomplete being, hollow. but still so beautiful and gentle. unlike him. he had felt his void with hatred, while you had maintained yours clean and unpolluted. he wanted to fill it with kisses, with caresses, with words of praise.
he began to lean in.
your breath hitched. he was so handsome, painfully so. plump lips, elegant cheeckbones. you liked him. you wanted to keep looking at him, to have your hand reach for his face and feel his skin, too. you wanted to never stop him from leaning in and to let him kiss you.
but the realization of it all sent a wave of panic through you, because you knew you couldn’t—shouldn’t—like him. you got away. "i really should leave," you said, but it came out more like a whisper, more like a plea.
still holding the beads, he took his hand to your cheeks again. you leaned in to his touch a little, but you didn't give in completely. you had led a life of strict restrain and soldierlike discipline. you had the willpower of a hundred trained armies.
yet that didn't make it hurt less to let him go. you grabbed his hand and put it down with a slight shaking of your head.
“please,” he begged one last time.
you began to walk back while facing him, as if to make sure he wouldn’t follow after you. beomgyu's heart ached with each step you took away from him, his fingers curling into fists at his sides as he watched you disappear into the shadows.
but a stupid thought, impulsive and idiotic came to you. in daddy’s house —the house of god— it was the type of idea that could get you killed. you swiftly approached him, almost unnoticeably, like a ghost. when you found yourself before him, you tiptoed slightly. you pecked his cheek. then you disappeared.
"good night," beomgyu whispered into the dark. he felt a pang of emptiness, like that feeling after a good dream slips away in the morning.
before his mom left, she used to take him to the ballet. he remembered a specific one in that moment. la sylphide. mom had loved that one. he felt like the lead, a man whose name he couldn't remember, kissed in the night by some magical being but waking up to nothing but her memory.
he was spaced out as he headed back to soobin's room, lost in his own thoughts. pushing the door open, he found soobin sitting up on the bed with the night lamp casting shadows over his unreadable face.
"why're you still up?" soobin asked him, his tone as flat as the mattress.
"just grabbed some water," beomgyu replied, keeping it simple.
"is everything alright?"
beomgyu gave a nod, not really knowing how to approach the subject. if he should even talk about it, if he would be capable of speaking without giving out too much. he slipped under the covers, giving soobin a subtle signal to switch off the light. and just as the room started to dim, he spoke into the darkness. "i saw your sister."
soobin's strained response came out after an exaggerated stretch of silence. "she's not my sister," he muttered.
beomgyu let the quiet hang for a beat before muttering; "well, she’s beautiful.”
soobin said nothing. the rustle of sheets is all that broke the silence as he rolled on his side, facing away from beomgyu. in the stillness, beomgyu drifted off into sleep, like touched by a divine calmness. soobin, however, remained awake.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ next part
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ none of you have let me know if you think reading about booty sex is gross yet
#we're working up to it please just hold it#i stan our attention spans we got this team#incoming depression sex yay !!#beomgyu#beomgyu angst#txt smut#beomgyu smut#txt hard thoughts#beomgyu hard thoughts#beomgyu x reader#txt x reader#beomgyu fic
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CHAPTER FOUR
home | chapters | playlist
🤍 pairing: theodore nott x reader.
🤍 song inspiration: wonder by shawn mendes.
🤍 author’s note: you don't want to miss this one 😏
Step 4 of Pansy Parkinson’s Perfect Plan of Plotting
One Bed — : A narrative device used primarily in romance and romantic comedy genres, where two characters, typically with a burgeoning romantic tension, are forced to share a single bed.
The halfway point. So far, we’re four days in and my devious schemes are already proving fruitful. The tension between Theo and Y/N has been off the charts lately, but it just needs one final little push. After my minion informed me that Theo has been cheating the system by sleeping on the couch, it’s time to take away that barrier once and for all.
Fourth Year, Slytherin Dormitories
“I look ridiculous,” you murmured at your reflection.
“Ridiculously hot,” Pansy corrected.
Behind you, she curled a section of your hair with her wand, letting it fall in soft tendrils while you fretted in front of the mirror. Tonight was the night. Ever since the start of term, the Yule Ball was all anyone could talk about. At first, you were just as excited as the rest of your classmates, but the closer it got, the more anxious you felt.
You swallowed thickly, wondering why in the bloody hell you allowed Pansy to rope you into buying this dress. Examining your reflection, you smoothed down the front of the baby blue ball gown, fingers trailing over the plunging neckline delicately covered in white lace.
The dress was a lot more daring than anything in your wardrobe, but Pansy insisted. She was convinced that it was perfect for you, but you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious. The ball gown certainly left little to the imagination. It cinched your waist like a lover’s embrace, the blue fabric resting right above your left thigh in a high slit that accentuated your legs before flowing into a dreamy tulle train. Still, you couldn’t deny that it was beautiful.
“This dress was made for you, babe.” Pansy declared as she finished pinning your hair up. “Graham is going to die when he sees you.”
At the mention of your date, you blanched. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Graham. Since the beginning of fourth year, you’ve gone on a handful of dates with him and they’ve all been relatively pleasant, but that was the problem. There was no spark, no excitement, no butterflies. No matter how hard you willed it into existence.
There was only one person who made you feel that way, but that was a complication for another day. Theo already loathed Graham enough — truly, he loathed any guy that showed interest in you, but Graham had been the first one that your best friend hadn’t successfully deterred. When he asked you to be his date to the Yule Ball, it only seemed natural to accept. Now that it loomed close, you felt sick to your stomach.
Still, you tampered down the anxiety and turned to your friend. If anyone had a right to dread the night ahead, it was Pansy.
“Will you be alright tonight?”
In a rare display of vulnerability, Pansy's smile dropped as she met your gaze in the mirror. Instantly, you pulled her to the edge of her bed and knelt down next to her. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can stay in and watch movies. Just say the word and I’ll cancel, Pans.”
Just a few days ago, she had broken things off with Padma after the Ravenclaw announced that she would be attending the Yule Ball with Ron bloody Weasley. It came as a shock, given the fact that Padma and Pansy had been seeing each other since term started.
You thought things were going well. Pansy had been out to your group of friends for a couple of months now and while everyone had been supportive of her journey, Padma was reluctant to make things public. Her own twin hadn’t even been aware of their relationship. You understood that coming out looked differently for everyone, but it broke your heart to listen to Pansy doubt herself. She didn’t deserve to be kept as a secret.
“And forfeit the chance to show my ex-girlfriend what she’s missing out on?” Pansy said, sniffing haughtily and squaring her shoulders back. “Not bloody likely.”
“There’s the Pansy Parkinson I know.”
Much to her annoyance, you pulled Pansy into a hug. Sighing, she relented and squeezed back as you grinned. “You know, I thought Ravenclaws were supposed to be smart. Patil’s an absolute idiot for ever letting you go. You’re the smartest, funniest, and hottest witch I know. You’re the motherfucking Pansy Parkinson. Any witch in this castle would kill to have you as their girlfriend.”
Your friend chuckled. “Thank you, Y/N. It feels strange to be on the other end of a motivational speech. Does it always feel this way when I do it?”
“Well, you tend to be a little bit more forceful,” you teased. “But I love you for it.”
“I love you too, Y/N.”
Just as you pulled away, a sharp knock startled you out of the tender moment. You and Pansy stared at each other.
“Come in,” Pansy called.
Draco stumbled through the door, his platinum blonde hair uncharacteristically tousled and his pale complexion tinged with a deep flush. The Malfoy heir looked like he just finished sprinting through the castle. “It’s Theo,” he breathed.
At the mention of your best friend, you sprang to your feet. “What happened?”
“He just received a patronus from Rome,” Draco explained. “Nonna is in the hospital.”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. “Is she alright?”
“Theo didn’t say much, but he’s with the headmaster right now. They’ve given him permission to floo to Rome.”
“I have to — I have to go —” You couldn’t breathe. Fear threatened to overcome you entirely, but you fought against it. Theo needed you. “I can’t let him be alone.”
“I know,” Draco agreed. “Professor Snape said he’s leaving within the hour, so we have to hurry.”
As quickly as possible, the three of you rushed out into the corridor. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble tile echoed as you and Pansy followed Draco’s lead. In his haste, Draco stomped down the staircase and nearly collided with the person waiting at the bottom step.
At the landing, Graham stood at attention. Your date was wearing a perfectly tailored deep blue dress robe with shiny leather shoes, which made him appear taller than he actually was. His dark hair was slicked back and away from his green eyes that now roamed over your figure. In his hands was a delicately crafted corsage, presumably for you.
“There you are,” said Graham. He straightened the front of his robes, impatience flickering through his expression. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“I’m so sorry, Graham, but now is not a good time.” You rushed out as Draco tapped his watch, signaling the hour. Theo could be stepping through the floo any moment now. “I have to go. It’s an emergency.”
Graham frowned. “What’s happened? What do you mean you have to go?”
“Theo’s grandmother is in the hospital. I don’t have time to explain, but please know I’m very sorry to miss the ball.”
“Miss the ball?” He repeated in disbelief. “You’re ditching me for Nott?”
Graham was well aware of Theo’s dislike of him. In fact, the feeling was mutual. He didn’t like that the two of you were so close, but there was nothing to be done about that now.
“Of course she is! This is a family emergency, you twat. Y/N would never leave Theo alone at a time like this.” Draco growled, frustration written all over his face. “Now get out of the bloody way, Montague.”
“This can’t be happening.”
“Look, we can talk about it when we get back, but I really have to go.”
“No,” Graham firmly stated. He gripped your wrist and held you in place. Fury like no other surged through you. “You have to choose. It’s either me or Theo.”
Without thinking, you snatched your arm away and leveled Graham with an icy glare. “Theo. I pick Theo. You may be my date for tonight, but he’s — Theo is — Theo is my person.”
You didn’t wait for a reaction. You couldn’t care less about the fallout. Graham should’ve known better than to give you an ultimatum. In your mind, there was no choice other than Theo. You would always pick him. Shoving Montague out of the way, you sprinted through the castle with Pansy and Draco following closely behind. When you reached the headmaster’s office, the phoenix statue standing guard over the entrance gave you pause.
“How do we get in?” you asked frantically.
“I don’t know,” Draco admitted. He examined the stairs, looking for any sort of opening.
Pansy stomped on the spiral staircase in an attempt to get it moving, but nothing happened. With determination, you plucked your wand from your dress pocket and instructed your friends to move. If you had to bombarda the bloody thing, you would.
“Drop your wand, Miss Y/L/N.”
You whirled around to find the head of your house staring down at you in disapproval. Professor Snape stood between you and the door, his impenetrable gaze sliding from your wand to the phoenix statue. You held your chin high and your wand even higher. In all your years at Hogwarts, you had never defied Snape so openly, but you were determined to get into that office one way or another.
“What exactly is your plan?” Snape asked with his arms crossed. “Decimate the headmaster’s beloved statue to gain entrance?”
“If it came to that, then yes.” You held your wand steady even though anxiety and apprehension brewed within you like a malevolent storm.
Draco shot to his feet. “She just needs to see Theo, professor.”
Snape appraised you for a moment. You made no indication of standing down. “Follow me, then. The headmaster has been expecting you.”
Without further explanation, Snape climbed onto the spiral staircase. Pansy and Draco squeezed you into a hug and wished you luck. You promised to send them word as soon as you could. As the stairs began to ascend, you watched anxiously as their faces disappeared from view.
Inside the headmaster’s office, Theo paced back and forth while Dumbledore attempted to comfort him. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with a baby blue vest and matching tie, the latter of which now hung loosely around his neck as he tugged at the silk. The sight of it was heart wrenching. Even though his expression was cold and distant, you could tell that Theo was worried beyond belief. His fear was as palpable as your own.
“Teddy?”
Relief washed over Theo as he turned to find you standing before him. Your best friend gravitated towards you, his lower lip trembling as you surged forward to gather him in your arms.
“You came,” he murmured in a broken whisper.
“Of course I did,” you assured him as you rubbed his back. “I wouldn’t leave you alone at a time like this.”
Theo took a deep breath as you cradled his cheek. His gaze roamed over your dress, apprehension written all over his features. “I’m so sorry, fragolina. I didn’t mean to ruin your night. I know how much you were looking forward to the ball. Fuck, Montague must be furious —”
“To hell with Montague,” you stated firmly. “You’re more important.”
Your best friend slid his hand into yours, squeezing tightly as he faced Dumbledore and Snape. “We’re ready to go now.”
Within a few moments, you found yourself stepping through the lobby of a hospital. Healers milled about in the large, brightly lit room, rushing off to care for their patients. The sight of the yellow robed witches and wizards gave Theo pause. You could only imagine that their presence brought forth traumatic memories of his mum’s frequent trips to St. Mungo’s.
Steeling yourself, you marched right up to the front desk and greeted the elderly witch sitting behind the counter. She gave a wide berth at your overly formal attire, but smiled politely when she caught herself.
“Buonasera, siamo qui per vedere Serafina Conti.”
“Qual è il tuo rapporto con il paziente?”
“Grandson,” Theo rasped. “I’m her grandson.”
The healer checked the records, her eyes skimming over the patient charts. “Serafina is under heavy sedation. The rest of your family has been contacted and should be arriving soon.”
“What exactly happened?”
“Your grandmother contracted a case of Forest Cough. Typically, the cough is very mild. Had Serafina sought treatment earlier this week, she would’ve been perfectly fine, but since she waited, it developed into a fever.”
You swallowed thickly. “Will she be alright?”
“Her healer has her on a dose of magical antibiotics, which also acts as a mild sedative. With a few hours of rest, Serafina should recover quite quickly. If any other symptoms arise, we do advise that she seek treatment as soon as possible. The worst thing you can do is wait.”
“Thank you so much.” The weight on your heart lessened at the reassurance. Nonna would be alright. That was all that mattered. “Could we please see her?”
The witch nodded. “Of course. Follow me.”
The two of you followed the healer through a long corridor. The walls were painted a cheerful yellow color that matched the healer’s robes, but even its sunny shade couldn’t mask the cold and sterile feeling of the hospital. Beside you, Theo tensed as you passed room after room of patients, his gaze lingering on the still bodies within.
You squeezed his hand, distracting him from his own memories. “It’s alright,” you murmured. “Nonna is going to be alright, Teddy.”
Theo tore his gaze away from a pale witch laying still on a stretcher, his expression shifting from worry to relief. He nodded in agreement and squeezed your hand back.
Just then, the elderly witch led you into a private room. She poked her head through the door, alerting nonna of your presence. “Serafina, there’s visitors here to see you.”
As she ushered you in, you couldn’t help but notice how small and fragile nonna looked. To you, Serafina Conti had always been larger than life, but right now, you realized that even a strong woman like her wasn’t invulnerable. Be that as it may, nonna haughtily sat up in her bed and crossed her arms as though she owned the place.
With a look of disapproval, she tutted at the both of you. “Why are you here?’
“Aldo sent a patronus,” Theo explained. “He said you were in the hospital. We were worried sick!”
“You know how your cousin loves his theatrics,” Nonna said with a nonchalant wave. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“They said they had to sedate you, that you had Forest Cough and you waited so long that it turned into a fever —”
“The healers are overzealous, as usual. All this fuss over a cough. It’s ridiculous, really.”
“Stop treating it like a joke!” Theo snapped, his voice echoing off the walls. You had never heard him speak to his grandmother like this, which told you how truly upset he was about the entire situation. “I could’ve lost you, nonna. I can’t — I can’t go through that again.”
Nonna’s expression softened. She knew more than anyone how the loss of her daughter nearly broke Theo. “I’m alright, Theodore. I apologize for worrying you, but I promise that everything is fine.” Theo’s shoulders slumped, the tension easing from his body as his grandmother held his hand. “Besides, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Who’s going to help plan you and Y/N’s wedding?”
A choked sob broke free from your throat. You hadn’t even realized that you were holding in tears until this moment. For the past hour, you were focused on doing whatever it took to get to Rome. Now that you were standing before nonna, the possibility of losing her crashed over you all at once.
You sniffled and wiped an errant tear away as she took your hand. “Don’t cry, piccolina. It’ll take more than a silly little cough to take me out.”
“We were so worried,” you confessed. “We just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“I’m alive and kicking,” she joked. In a softer tone, she said, “Thank you for accompanying Theodore. As upset as I am that you both skipped the Yule Ball to be here, I am glad I got to see the two of you like this. You make a beautiful couple.”
“Nonna,” Theo groaned. “Now is really not the time.”
Nonna rolled her eyes, ignoring her grandson. “So, tell me. When did Theodore finally pluck up the courage to ask you to be his date?”
Theo sighed, knowing that there was no stopping his grandmother. He busied himself with tidying up her surroundings, flinging the curtains open to reveal a stunning view of the city. Rome was a beauty to behold, its ancient streets thrumming with excitement even at this late hour. In the distance, you could make out the Sistine Chapel under the glittering stars.
“I was actually supposed to go with someone else.” Up until this point, you had completely forgotten all about Montague. You knew you’d have to deal with that when you returned, but he seemed rather insignificant given all that had occurred. “Graham Montague.”
Nonna wrinkled her nose. The gesture told you all you needed to know about her opinion of him. “If you were going with the Montague boy, then why are you and my grandson matching?”
Your gaze flickered up to Theo’s baby blue vest and tie, which were both a perfect match to the color of your ball gown. “I don’t know, actually. Teddy never saw my dress. I might have mentioned that I was wearing blue, but not the exact shade.”
“This is the shade of blue that you always say you look best in,” Theo explained. “It’s your favorite color. Everyone knows that.”
“Nobody knows that.”
“Well, I know that.”
Graham certainly hadn’t. You had shown him the exact color, yet he still picked the wrong shade to wear. You thought that perhaps boys were just clueless when it came to this sort of thing. After all, blue was blue. But Theo knew. Of course he knew.
An amused smirk appeared on nonna’s face as she watched the interaction. She was outright grinning when Theo busied himself with her pillows, fluffing them quite aggressively to hide the flush on his cheeks. You couldn’t help but smile.
An hour later, Theo’s cousin Aldo finally arrived from Vallara. It had been a nightmare to journey to Rome, given that the floo station in the countryside closed earlier than most. Aldo had to travel to Amalfi by apparating, which took quite the toll on him. Regardless, he was glad to see that nonna was in stable condition.
The rest of Theo’s cousins piled into the small room, nearly causing a fire hazard from the sheer amount of people packed in such a tiny space. The two of you gave them time to fuss over nonna, happily changing into the extra clothes they had brought. The ball gown was a feat to remove, the tulle and silk nearly suffocating you as you tried to maneuver out of it in the bathroom stall. In the end, you prevailed. Despite the fact that Theo’s sweats and hoodie nearly swallowed you whole, you were thankful to be in comfier clothing.
After chatting with his cousins and ensuring that nonna would be properly cared for, the two of you said your goodbyes. You wished you could stay longer, but it was time to return to the castle. Under the silver moon, you and Theo walked through the empty streets, marveling at the beauty of Rome.
“I never got to tell you,” Theo said suddenly. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Looked,” you corrected. “No offense, but my dress was a little more fashionable than this outfit.”
“You could wear a plastic bag and I’d still think that you’re beautiful, bella.”
You flushed at the compliment, hiding its effect behind a curtain of hair. “Thank you, Teddy.”
“No, thank you. I couldn’t have gotten through all of that without you.” Theo took your hand, twirling the emerald ring on your finger with a small smile. “I’m sorry that I messed things up for you with Montague.”
“Don’t lie, Teddy. You’re not sorry.”
Theo smiled sheepishly. “You’re right. I’m not.”
“It’s alright. It probably wouldn’t have worked out between us anyways.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I don’t think he really knew me,” you mused. “He couldn’t even remember my favorite color.”
“What an idiot,” teased Theo. “Still, you must be bummed about missing the ball. I know you were looking forward to it.”
“There will be other balls,” you responded. “This was more important.”
Theo lifted your hand and brushed his lips against your knuckles. “I’m really glad you’re here with me, bella.”
“Me too, Teddy,” you whispered softly. “Me too.”
Day Four, The Clay Cliffs
Laughter emanated from your phone while you recounted the events of the past few days to your parents. When you described the trip to the Temple of Cupid, your mum teared up as your dad comforted her in the back garden. The two of them were having afternoon tea when you called, which was the perfect time to chat and catch up.
Attempting to lighten the mood, your dad peered into the screen. “Is that the infamous convertible?”
You grinned and panned around the baby blue car, which you were currently lounging in as you waited for the rest of your friends to arrive. Theo insisted on driving up the Clay Cliffs, while Pansy and the boys rented bikes to take the more scenic route. You had absolutely no desire to struggle up the cliffside, so you opted to accompany your best friend instead.
As if on cue, Theo bounded back into the car after begrudgingly helping a group of tourists with directions. “Hi Laurel! Hi Alistair!’”
Your parents waved as Theo slipped into the driver seat. He grinned into the camera before snatching your favorite heart shaped sunglasses off your head and placing them over his eyes. “Hi, Theo. Congratulations on the car. She’s a beauty!”
“Theo hasn’t hit a single curb our whole trip. The driving lessons finally paid off, dad.”
“I’m proud of you, son.”
Beside you, Theo flushed and shyly thanked your dad. Shifting in his seat, he grabbed the phone from your hand and squeezed himself into frame. No matter how many times you explained the technology of video calls to him, Theo still wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t a form of magic.
“The garden looks great, Alistair.” Theo lowered his sunglasses and squinted at the screen. “The cherry tree looks like it’s blooming.”
You furrowed your brow. “When did you add a cherry tree?”
“The start of summer,” your dad answered. “Theo helped me plant it before he left for Vallara.”
“He also cooked us a fantastic dinner,” your mum added. She looked wistful, probably fantasizing about your best friend’s cooking. “I still dream about that carbonara.”
“I promise to cook it for you the next time I visit.”
“Speaking of which,” your dad interjected. “Are we still on for Sunday tea when you’re back in town?”
“Of course,” Theo assured. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“You guys are having tea without me?” you asked incredulously.
Your mum nodded. “Well, we have to do something to fill our time while our little girl is off at Oxford.”
Theo nudged you, smiling. “Don’t worry, bella. Now that I have my car, I can come and kidnap you during the weekends.”
You beamed. “Thanks, Teddy.”
Just then, you heard bells ringing through the clearing. The rest of your friends had finally caught up, racing up the narrow trail in colorful bikes.
Mattheo honked his horn, the wind plastering his curls to his cheek as he pedaled uphill. “Come on lovebirds, it’s time. Last one to dive off the cliff owes the group a round tonight!”
Your mum let out a surprised squeak. “Please tell me you’re not jumping headfirst off a cliff.”
“I would, but then I’d be lying.”
“Y/N Y/L/N!”
“Hm, what was that, mum? I think you’re breaking up.”
Theo snickered as your mum began to lecture the two of you. Fortunately, your dad talked her down before she could continue her rant. “Bye, sweetheart, have fun! You too, son. Take care of our little girl. Love you both.”
Your best friend waved at your parents, a grin present on his face. “Always! Love you, miss you. See you soon!”
“Love you mum and dad. Talk to you later!.”
After bidding your parents goodbye, you and Theo made your way up to the top of the Clay Cliffs. At the peak, Mattheo waved you towards the cliff’s edge. Cautiously, you made your way over to where the rest of the boys stood. The four of them were busy placing bets on who could do the most flips before landing.
Pansy rolled her eyes. “Just make sure you don’t break your neck. It would put a damper on my holiday.”
“My money’s on you,” you stated as you draped an arm over her shoulder. You don’t know why the boys bothered. Pansy was by far the most athletic out of all of you.
“Are you making the jump this year?”
Your stomach flipped as you peered over the cliffside. The drop was at least fifty feet, which was intimidating enough without your paralyzing fear of heights. Still, you were determined to face this phobia of yours once and for all. You didn’t know when you’d get another chance to share this moment with your favorite people. Despite your determination, it didn’t make the task less daunting.
Steeling yourself, you nodded. “Yes. It would be a shame to come all this way and not do it.”
Pansy smiled and squeezed your hand. “You’ve got this, babe.”
The support gave you a little boost of confidence, especially after the boys assured you that they’d all be waiting at the bottom and cheering you on. You watched in anticipation as Blaise and Draco went first, their dives perfectly synchronized as they flipped two times in the air before slicing through the water.
“Showoffs,” Mattheo muttered as he kicked off his shoes. He squinted at the waves below, no doubt calculating if he can beat Blaise and Draco.
“You’ve got this, Matt,” you encouraged. “You’re by far the most obnoxious competitive person I know. Show them how it’s done.”
“Thanks, I think?” Mattheo responded with an amused chuckle. He raised a brow as a mischievous grin tugged at his lips. “Mind giving me a good luck kiss?”
“I will kick you off this damn cliff,” Theo threatened.
With a smirk, Mattheo saluted the two of you before joining your friends below. Just as you predicted, he executed three flips on the way down. Enzo went shortly after and tied with Mattheo, much to the latter’s annoyance. Pansy gracefully followed with a series of four flips that had you cheering and whistling.
Finally, it was your turn. You slowly peeled your dress off and carefully arranged it next to everyone else’s clothes. Theo tugged his shirt off before flinging it in the same general direction. You shook your head as you folded it up for him, rolling your eyes fondly while he apologized with a sheepish grin.
Those familiar watercolor eyes snagged on your blue dotted bikini, the heat of his gaze sending shivers down your spine. You couldn’t help but return the favor, cheeks heating as you shamelessly scanned Theo’s toned chest and chiseled abs. When he was younger, Theo often complained about his lanky build, but you liked how tall and lean he was. He’d certainly grown into it now. As if those mesmerizing eyes and sex tousled waves and impish grin wasn’t enough, Theo also had to be funny and kind and sweet.
Truly, it was unfair to the rest of the world.
“Are you nervous, bella?”
You shook off your daydreams and returned to reality. “A little.” You made the mistake of looking down at the waves below. From this point of view, everything seemed that much more terrifying. “Is it silly that I’m scared?”
Theo gently grabbed your hand, prying you away from anxiously twisting your emerald ring. “I don’t think it’s silly at all,” he replied. “It’s normal to feel scared.”
“But you’re not scared of anything.”
Your best friend chuckled. “Are you kidding? I’m scared of everything, all the time. I just act like I’m not.”
“Really?”
Theo nodded. “Do you remember the first time I met the guys?”
“At Malfoy Manor, right? When we were eight.”
“I was so scared that they wouldn’t like me, that they wouldn’t understand my accent, but mostly I was scared that you’d figure out that they were funnier and smarter and cooler than I was and I’d lose my best friend.”
Your expression softened. “You could never lose me, Teddy.”
“I know that now,” Theo said with a smile. “But back then, I was terrified. Until you told me that we were a package deal. That if they didn’t like me, then you didn’t like them either because we came as a pair. You couldn’t have one without the other.”
“I was only stating the obvious.”
“Maybe, but you don’t know what that meant to me. Besides mum, no one has ever stood up for me like that. I remember you threatening to push Flint into the garden fountain when he said I sounded funny even though he was older and bigger than the both of us combined.”
The memory made you chuckle. “If only I had that courage now.”
“You do,” Theo assured you. “My point is, you’re the bravest person I know. I’m never scared when I’m with you.”
“You’ve never told me that before,” you said softly, sniffling a little. You couldn’t help it. Theo knew exactly what to say to put your mind at ease.
“I was saving it for the view,” Theo replied cheekily. “It really gives it that theatrical effect.”
Though you could still feel your heart beating against your ribcage, your anxiety lessened. You squeezed Theo’s hand, mostly to remind yourself that he was here with you. His presence always grounded you.
“Will you jump with me?” you asked shyly.
Theo’s smile was like a shot of espresso, warm and soothing as it surged through your nervous system like caffeine. You could see why people said that coffee was as addictive as the next hard drug, because you were pretty sure that you’d chase this high for the rest of your life.
Your heart soared as he squeezed your hand back. “Of course, fragolina,” he declared proudly. “I’d be offended if you didn’t pick me to do something so stupid and reckless with.”
“You’re quite right. The most stupid and reckless things I’ve ever done in my life have included you in some way or another.”
Theo grinned and kissed the back of your knuckles. “You’re stalling.”
“Maybe a little bit.”
“We’ll do it together,” he said. “Like everything in life. On the count of three, we jump, okay?”
“Okay.”
“One…two…”
“Wait, jump on three or after three?”
“Now!”
With a scream, you and Theo broke out into a sprint and leapt off the cliffside. Your stomach turned inside out and upside down while your heart galloped in your chest. The adrenaline kicked in as you plunged through the water, the waves splashing all around you as you kicked back up to the surface.
It was scary, it was exhilarating, but most of all, it was reassuring because when you broke free, Theo was still holding your hand.
Later that night, you found yourself ducking into the mouth of a cave. Behind you, the boys grumbled as they crouched, nearly hitting their heads on the jagged rocks. Draco mumbled something about sullying his expensive silk button down, while Enzo mocked his cousin with an overly snooty accent.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Blaise asked warily.
“Have I ever steered you wrong, Zabini?”
“Do you want me to answer honestly?”
To be fair, you couldn’t exactly blame Blaise for doubting your best friend. Theo promised to bring you and your friends to the hottest party in town only to lead you into the heart of a cave.
Theo rolled his eyes. “Just a little more,” he urged. “Then you’ll see that Theodore Nott always delivers. Isn’t that right, bella?”
You scoffed. “Well, Theodore Nott needs to deliver a little faster, because my feet are absolutely killing me. Had I known we were going spelunking, I would’ve opted out of heels.”
“I second that,” Pansy huffed in annoyance. “I’m honestly considering throwing my stiletto at your head, Nott.”
“Keep your shoes to yourself, ladies,” Theo warned as he led you further into the cave.
In the distance, you could hear the muffled sound of music and the thump of the bass echoing through the rock. You gaped as the crowd came into view. Lights flashed along the cavern, pulsing to the beat of the music. The inside of the cave looked like a club, complete with a DJ, a fully stocked bar, and a makeshift dance floor.
“How did you even know about this?” Draco asked.
“I was invited by a local,” Theo responded slyly. “Speaking of which, here’s our host now.”
The local was none other than Dante, who was now strolling up to your group with a tray full of limoncello. You watched in confusion as Theo exchanged cheek kisses with Dante as though they were old friends.
“Well, this is a pleasant surprise,” Pansy greeted.
“Indeed,” Dante agreed. “I must admit, I was surprised when Theo called me up after your visit to the vineyard. I got the feeling that he wasn’t too fond of me.”
“What would ever make you think that?” quipped your best friend.
Dante chuckled. “After he proposed a fresh start, I couldn’t help but agree. Besides, there is no way I’d pass up the chance to show you the hottest party in town. Welcome to Vallara’s most exclusive club, my friends.”
“Wow,” Mattheo exclaimed. “This is sick.”
Enzo nodded in agreement. “Is that a body paint station? Did that girl just take off her top — where are you going, Mattheo? Hey, wait for me!”
You chuckled as the two boys hustled to the other side of the room. Theo rolled his eyes and apologized for their behavior, but Dante merely waved it off before passing out the limoncello.
“To new friends,” Theo proposed.
Dante clinked his glass with his. “To new friends!”
The limoncello was dangerously sweet and smooth, its tart aftertaste causing your face to pucker. The drinks flowed after that as Dante introduced your group of friends to the crowd. For the most part, everyone in attendance was a local, which made you feel honored to be welcomed into their midst.
As always, Theo was a natural at working the crowd. Your best friend seemed to have taken your advice to heart, because he and Dante were currently laughing and chatting with yesterday’s not-so-great first impression clearly forgotten. From the glimpses you stole from the dance floor, Theo was currently trying to play wingman, talking Dante up to a very handsome local. He took the job quite seriously, politely declining any attention thrown his way.
“How is it fair that Nott is turning girls away while none of them will even look at me?” complained Mattheo.
“It’s because you reek of desperation.” Draco responded honestly, brushing off a nonexistent piece of lint from his shirt.
“And he doesn’t?” Mattheo exclaimed. “Theo’s been following Y/N around like a lost puppy all summer. Hell, all his life.”
“That’s not desperation, you dolt,” Pansy scoffed. “That’s love.”
You rolled your eyes. “Theo’s not in love with —” The protest died in your throat as Theo caught your eye from across the room. His face lit up when he spotted you like you were the beacon he’d been searching for in the dark.
Mattheo ignored your comment entirely. “So if I fall in love, girls will flock to me?”
Draco shook his head. “That’s not the point. When you fall in love, no one else matters. You can’t even see anyone but them. You just know deep down inside that you’ve found your person.”
“Y/N.” You startled as Theo hugged you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“What?” asked Mattheo.
“My person,” Theo clarified. “It’s Y/N. That’s what Draco was talking about, right?”
Draco smirked. “Told you, Riddle.”
The shit eating grins remained on your friend’s faces even during the walk home from the cave. It didn’t help that Theo insisted on giving you a piggyback ride through the cobblestone streets after one too many complaints about your aching feet. As he set you down on the bathroom counter, Theo shook his head.
“I will never understand why you choose to punish yourself this way, bella.”
You shrugged, watching as your best friend removed the death traps from your feet. “Beauty is pain, Teddy.”
“Must be why I’m always aching,” Theo remarked with a dramatic sigh. “Pretty hurts.”
You snorted as you jumped off the counter and began your ten step skincare routine. Theo traded places with you, swinging his long legs while he handed you product after product. He grinned like a little kid when you swiped toner, moisturizer, and serum onto his face. Not that he needed it. Irritatingly enough, his skin was clear as day without the aid of expensive products.
After you finished brushing your teeth together, the two of you changed into pajamas and settled for the night. You buried yourself in bed, sighing at the cold sheets and fluffy pillows. Theo made his way over to the love seat that he’d been sleeping on for the past few nights, but it was gone. Nowhere to be found. He stared at the empty spot in complete bafflement.
“Is the couch…”
“Yup.”
“Completely gone?”
“Mhm."
“Disappeared off the face of the earth.”
“Seems like it.”
“Oh god,” you groaned. “I’m sorry, Teddy. I have a feeling this is Pansy’s doing. She’s been scheming all summer. First the honeymoon suite and then this.”
“It’s okay, fragolina,” Theo assured you. “I can just sleep on the living room couch.”
You shook your head vehemently. “You shouldn’t have to sleep on the couch.”
“I’m fine, bella.”
“Theo,” you whisper, your voice disrupting the blissful bubble of silence. “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.”
Realization flooded Theo’s features. He smiled softly, shy and sweet as he made his way over to you. Making room for him, you threw the blankets back and watched as he crawled into bed beside you. Theo settled on his side, his head resting on the pillow as he faced you.
You mirrored his action, suddenly feeling vulnerable as those piercing blue eyes flitted over you. “Hi.”
Theo grinned. “Hi.”
The two of you stared at each other for a moment. The serene sounds of the countryside lapped all around you; the gentle breeze swaying gently through the open window, the soothing lull of the waves kissing the shore, all of it syncing with the rhythmic beating of your heart.
The moonlight streamed into the room in glittering strips of silver, its light bathing Theo in its ethereal glow. His fluffy hair, his boyish grin, his sleepy eyes. You had never seen anything more beautiful and breathtaking in your life.
“You’re my person, too.”
The smile on his face would’ve put the stars to shame. The gravity of it was magnetizing, drawing you in like an inevitable force.
“Do you know that you’re my favorite person in this entire world?”
“I had a feeling,” Theo teased. You scoffed and rolled your eyes, preparing a sarcastic response, but you stopped short when he leaned closer. His knuckles brushed against your cheek. “I’d say the same, but it seems like an understatement to call you my favorite person in the world when you are my world.”
“Teddy…”
“Too cheesy?” he asked with a boyish grin.
“No, it’s perfect.” You took his face in your hands, cataloging every freckle and mole as though everything about him wasn’t already seared into your mind. “You’re perfect.”
You didn’t know who moved first. It might’ve been him, it might’ve been you, but at the end of the day, all that mattered was that his lips were on yours. As Theo kissed you, you realized then that you’d never truly known what it meant to hunger, to crave — not truly. Not like this.
The kiss itself was soft and gentle and sweet, but it was also all-consuming. The pressure of his lips against yours brought you relief. It was the breaking of clouds, the pattering of rain, the downpour after an endless drought.
Your fingers slipped through his silky locks as Theo tugged you closer, his hands snaking around you in a tight embrace as though he was afraid you might disappear. You wanted to tell him that you weren’t going anywhere. You couldn’t even if you tried, but you were too drunk on him — his scent, his touch, his kisses.
This, you thought, was exactly what you were made for.
Theo pulled away, his gaze tender as it flickered over your face. You touched your fingers to your lips, already missing the absence of his kisses.
“I’ve been waiting for that all my life,” Theo whispered in awe.
“I had a feeling,” you teased back.
“I like when you’re cheeky,” Theo chuckled, burying his face in your neck. He placed a kiss under your jaw. “And I like how soft your skin is.” Another kiss on your cheek. “I like how red and flushed you get when I compliment you.”
Theo pressed his lips against yours Once, twice, three times. Just because he could. Just because he wanted to savor the taste of your cherry chapstick, to swallow the soft little sigh that escaped your mouth every time he kissed you, to acclimate himself to the new reality of getting to snog his best friend whenever and wherever he wanted.
“I just really like you.”
You smiled into the kiss. “I really like you too, Teddy.”
The confession was the tip of the iceberg of how you felt for him, but it would do for now. As Theo held you in his arms, you listened to the rhythmic pulse echoing in your chest.
Your heart thumped to the beat of his name. Theo, Theo, Theo.
It always had and it always will.
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