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staytheword · 1 year

Text

on my mind

on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]

• han jisung x female reader.

• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.

• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.

• word count: 8.6k

You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.

• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡

You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips.

You can’t do this anymore.

You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.

Or you’re going to try.

It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.

As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.

“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty.

Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?”

At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this.

You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him.

Almost.

You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones.

But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies.

We get through this together, you said.

Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours.

Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.”

“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.”

You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.”

With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt.

You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly.

You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly.

“Shit, what time is it?”

It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.

“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?”

“R-right. Yeah. Okay.”

You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot.

“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen.

He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue.

“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island.

There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television.

Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl.

“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.”

Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”

“Yes, please.”

He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh.

A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours?

You should study again after this.

Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.

You’re wasting valuable time.

You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands.

When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance.

“Thanks.”

You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that.

Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back.

“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.”

You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed.

“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.”

“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…”

“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.”

You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch.

“Sit down, please.”

His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest.

“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?”

You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing.

“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.”

He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.”

“What do you suggest, then?”

He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch.

“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.”

When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues.

“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.”

That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.”

“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.”

You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night.

“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?”

You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his.

“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.”

Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm.

“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.”

“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head.

You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you.

“You want to join?”

Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it.

Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie.

The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other.

“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”

“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”

He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand.

“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.”

“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.”

“Sounds good.”

You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s.

At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head.

“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs.

You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.”

“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…”

He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?”

“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.”

“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously.

You could swear he is blushing.

“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.”

“I like the idea,” you smile.

Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh.

“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.”

Jisung arches an eyebrow.

“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.”

“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”

“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.”

“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.”

“She was a bitch,” you point out.

Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.”

“That’s not exactly true.”

“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?”

You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.”

You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.”

“How can you not be a massage person?!”

You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause.

“Ji, this isn’t working.”

He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…”

“We need something more drastic.”

He gives you a little nod, and you squint.

“What was the idea you had earlier?”

His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?”

“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.”

And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.”

You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.”

He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest.

Jisung breathes deeply.

“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…”

“Yes?” you encourage him.

“I jerk off.”

You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense.

“Oh,” you breathe out.

“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -”

“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass.

You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?

Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?”

“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.”

He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment.

“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously.

He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even.

“I mean, if you want some time alone…”

“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?”

You nod. “Yeah, why?”

“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.”

It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly.

“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice.

“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.”

There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking.

Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?”

Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes.

“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds.

You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now.

“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”

“Okay,” you whisper.

Jisung looks at you. “R-really?”

“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.”

You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.

“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…”

“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead.

You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter.

“Just say it,” he sighs.

“I heard you that time.”

Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking.

“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -”

“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…”

“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.”

Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?”

“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.”

Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.”

“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?”

“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.”

You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage.

Jisung is observing his nails very carefully.

“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.

Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness.

“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.

For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard.

“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.

“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”

“Sure,” Jisung breathes.

It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen.

“What?”

“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.

“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.”

“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…”

“Ugh, tell me about it.”

You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably.

A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh.

“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says.

You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.”

Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy.

“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.”

“O-okay.”

Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju.

It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other.

Oh, God.

Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.

Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God.

On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another.

You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet.

As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes.

He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.

You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply.

“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.

“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment.

Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.”

You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction.

But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing.

The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure.

“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.”

“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.”

“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.”

Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed.

Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god!

You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move.

You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears.

“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.”

You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this.

“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.”

Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.”

“S-sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”

You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.

“Ji, do you… do you want some help?”

The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.

Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?”

You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.”

He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.” He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…”

“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.”

“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…”

You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself.

“H-here.”

He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair.

You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.

Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric.

“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music.

Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.

“Is that okay?” you ask him softly.

“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…”

The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm.

“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!”

“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.”

It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips.

“Y-you sure?”

You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls.

“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…”

“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.

You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently.

“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -”

He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully.

When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray.

This is a sight you’ll never forget.

A taste you’ll never forget.

You feel something tighten in your chest.

You’ve fallen so hard for him.

“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you.

His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy.

“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you.

He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth.

“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.”

Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh.

The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin.

“Jisung…”

“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.

When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him.

“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”

He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning.

You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.

Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…”

The nickname alone almost ends you.

He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says.

The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?”

It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?”

You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt.

“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear.

You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away.

“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained.

He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him.

You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.

“Y/N…”

Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy.

“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Y/N, wait -”

You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.

You smile.

You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you.

Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to.

When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear.

“Y/N, please, listen -”

You don’t think. You just kiss him.

Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock.

“What are you -”

“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.”

It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again.

You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.”

You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth.

“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.”

“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”

“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.”

You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again.

“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.”

You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.

It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.

You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.

He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.

“Fuck, those tits…”

You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.

“Ji, please…”

His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours.

Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have.

Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you.

“Can I - I mean - You sure?”

“Yes,” you nod.

You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out.

“Are you okay?”

You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.”

“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.”

You smile, pulling him into a kiss.

“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear.

He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together.

You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure.

“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…”

“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…”

You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic.

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…”

He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.”

“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”

“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.”

With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws.

“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”

“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.

“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.”

“Jisung.”

You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes.

“Will you kiss me?”

Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.

Some time later, you smile.

You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.

“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him.

You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.”

“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.”

“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.”

“Me too, Ji. Me too.”

I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.

Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡

taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 5 months

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Hallowed

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Toxic relationship dynamics, face sitting, smut. Word count: ~1.3k

Summary: Her Early Medieval Literature essay is due, and Michael has his own cruel way of ensuring she stays focused.

Author's note: Can be read as part two of this fic, but also works as a standalone. Day six of the Smuffmas prompts - "future and face sitting". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She lounges on Michael’s bed, clad in only knickers and one of his t-shirts, a copy of the Canterbury Tales grasped lightly between her fingers. Her eyes move over the words of Chaucer, but take none of them in, how could they? His long fingers draw lazy circles on her ankle, her legs stretched out up to the pillows where he reclines, the duvet wrapped around his bare midriff while he reads from a textbook called the Book of Proof.

Life feels simpler since Michael has entered it, despite the turbulent beginnings. She has given up her friends, under his advice, and there is now far less pressure to conform. Her only focuses are her studies and pleasing him, the latter of the two she takes great pleasure in.

It is always on his terms; when they see each other, what they do, how they do it, and despite his obvious initial inexperience he is a fast learner. His ability to make her fall apart, to make her relinquish all control is something he does expertly. The slight fear she feels towards him only adds to the excitement; he could destroy her if he wanted to, but if she plays nicely then he won’t, and she is more than happy to play nicely when the rewards for doing so are as satisfying as they are.

She sighs, his fingers upon her flesh making her core throb with want, even from the simple gesture of absentmindedly touching her leg. She lets her book slip from her fingers, raising up on her elbow to look at him.

“Michael…” she whines.

He looks at her impassively, adjusting his glasses. “The first of your three essays is due soon, isn’t it?”

“Mmm,” she responds with a roll of her eyes, flopping back down and stretching her arms above her head. “Early Medieval Literature.”

His hand moves from her ankle, fingertips ghosting over the exposed skin between the hem of his t-shirt and the waistband of her underwear. “And what have you written?”

She shivers beneath his touch, squirming slightly. “Am I really here to study?”

“I’ve no interest in sleeping with a failing literature student,” he pulls his hand away and she immediately misses his warmth. “So tell me.”

She groans in frustration. “Oh, I don’t know. Probably something about irony in the Merchant’s Tale.”

His textbook thuds closed and she hears the heavy sound of him dropping it onto the bedside table. When she chances to glance up at him she sees he is sitting straighter in the bed, his gaze hardened as he looks at her. “Probably?! You mean you haven’t started it? Have you even thought about your thesis statement, your in-depth analysis or how you’re going to conclude your ideas, if you’ve even had any?”

“Oh, come on,” she says softly, sitting up and reaching for him. “There’s still time. Can’t we just–”

“No,” he cuts her off. “I’ve been spoiling you, and it’s made you stupid.”

“I’m not stupid!” She protests. “If I remember correctly, it was you who called my degree a ‘glorified book club’.”

“You still need to try,” he tells her, frowning.

“You don’t try,” she argues with a shrug,” and marks in your first year don’t count towards the final degree.”

“I don’t have to try, but I still get firsts in everything. Marks this year may not count towards the final degree you get, but they count towards you keeping your scholarship. Think about your future instead of being a fucking brat for once in your life.”

His words are a sharp sting to her already fragile ego, and she lowers her gaze, fighting the sudden urge to cry.

“I’m not touching you again until your essay’s handed in and I’ve seen what your mark is.”

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with disbelief as she looks at him, searching his features for any indication that he’s being unserious. She finds none; he really means it.

“And you’re not to touch yourself. I’ll know.”

The next two weeks are torturous for her. On the occasions that Michael does invite her to his room, there is no more casual half dressed lounging on his bed. Instead, he has a study space set up for her at his desk, and won’t allow her to speak or leave until she has at least a thousand words written.

They meet up in the library during free periods so that he can read through what she’s written, and her skin burns hot with humiliation each time he screws up a page and throws it into the waste paper bin, calling her arguments “lazy” and “uninspired”.

It lights a fire of determination beneath her, but bubbling under the surface is also a heightened state of arousal, driven by the lack of intimacy, and the fact that she finds that she likes it when he is so authoritative over her.

By the time she has finished, she has produced an essay that both her and Michael are satisfied with; it discusses the use of irony in Chaucer’s poem, the Merchant's Tale. She has used a number of excerpts and lines from the poem for analysis, revealing the instances of irony in each, and from this has determined that the irony Chaucer used in the Merchant's Tale is controlled.

Her eyes light up when Professor Ware hands it back, and she sees the 85% that’s circled at the top of it.

A first.

She feels giddy with excitement as she knocks on Michael’s door that evening, brandishing the now dog-eared pages at him as he opens the door.

“A first, I got a first!” She squeals, watching as he takes the essay from her, his eyes moving slowly over the top page.

“Hmmm,” he settles it down on the desk, removing his glasses and placing them on top. “Take off your jeans and underwear.”

“Wha–what?” She stammers, her grin fading.

“You want your reward, don’t you?” He asks, moving to lay back on the bed.

She swallows thickly, excitement fluttering in her lower belly, as she quickly complies, ridding herself of the clothing that covers her lower half.

“Come here,” he commands softly.

She joins him on the bed, a gasp leaving her as he manhandles her until her knees are positioned either side of his head.

“My clever girl,” he whispers. His words could be mistaken for softness, were they not directly juxtaposed by the rapid darkening of his blue eyes, and the way his thumbs drag across the indentations between her thighs and pelvis. “I knew you could do it, you just needed a little…push.”

He drags his tongue from her opening all the way to her pearl, and her jaw goes slack, the wet sensation making her clench as she falls forward, hands clawing at the wall in front of her.

His grip on her thighs tightens and he tugs her flush against his face, the sloppy sounds of him devouring her are lewd combined with the wanton cries of pleasure that tumble from her lips.

She feels her mind go blank as he inserts his tongue inside of her, keeping it rigid as she begins to grind herself in a circular motion, keeping his nose pressed against where she needs it most, desperately chasing the release she’s needed the last couple of weeks.

His hum of appreciation reverberates through her core, and as he withdraws from her, plush lips wrapping around her sensitive bundle of nerves she feels herself fall apart as the growing ache intensifies, completely at his mercy as he laps at her, while white hot waves of pleasure wash over her.

She raises up when it becomes too much, jerking at how oversensitive she feels and gazes down at him through heavy lidded eyes, breathless.

He looks like an utterly different person without his glasses, almost kind, though she knows better. His chin is shiny with her slick as he smirks up at her.

“You’ve worked so hard,” he says quietly, though the edge of malevolence to his voice is unmistakable. “But don’t worry, you can give that pretty little mind of yours a rest while I fuck you stupid again.”

She is powerless to resist as he tugs her back to his face once more, beginning the exquisite torture all over again.

#michael gavey x reader #ewan mitchell #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey x you #michael gavey smut #michael gavey imagine #michael gavey saltburn #saltburn michael gavey #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fan fic #michael gavey fanfic #saltburn #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fanfic #saltburn fan fic

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hoyowomentournament · 1 month

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FINALS!!! Furina vs Kiana Kaslana

(Propaganda under the cut)

Furina:

the girl who saved fontaine. condemned herself to a life of silent pain and suffering without any warning or preparation. she could confide in no one, seek out help from no one, all while bearing the weight of her entire nation on her shoulders. not only did her willpower save everyone in fontaine, but after the prophecy was averted, she was finally allowed to live a normal life.

Kiana Kaslana:

TLDR: she's kiana kaslana what do you MEAN!!!! kiana is a beautifully written character who fully encapsulates what hi3 is about and she's so full of love and guilt and (most importantly) hope. she's a clone who struggles with her own identity/inhumanity and traumas extending from when she was a young child and her guilt but is so so resilient and so so so so compassionate which ultimately reinforces her humanity :)

kiana's character IS the honkai impact thesis statement. i don't even mean it as in she's the literal main character and face of honkai i genuinely mean it when i say she just IS honkai impact. she reflects every single theme that they portray [hope over nihilism (chapter 25 || the flame chasers and just. the previous era in general), having agency over your identity and your own story (himeko, her being k423 and being so linked to sirin, everlasting flames || the kaslana household name honestly, bronya, fu hua, mei, sirin), believing in the humanity's inherent worth (chapter 25, arc city || elysia <- important since as a current era herrscher, she is a successor to elysia AND as kiana kaslana, she is a narrative parallel of elysia), having faith in the youth (himeko, kevin || the other flame chasers! notably su), etc.] her character being so reflective is also sooooo OUGH to think about when you view it as a reflection of honkai's 50,000 year samsara because kiana is a representation of these themes coming full circle (especially since many of these stretch back to the previous era and elysia).

SHE FEELS SO MUCH. she's so full of love and guilt. she clearly prioritizes others over herself and part of her arc is her learning to value and love herself as well!!! she would give herself for the world ten times over because she holds so much affection for humanity!! (WHILE FEELING DEHUMANIZED BECAUSE OF HER IDENTITY AS BOTH A HERRSCHER AND K423) and it's actively apart of her character's growth :'')

dear god her growth… okok. so i think first you have to understand that a lot of kiana's growth obviously coincides w general maturity as she grows from a teenager to a young adult. but aside from that i think people often forget that younger kiana is incredibly self sufficient since her father literally left her with little to no explanation when she was like. what 8? the insecurity she feels at that! the anger she has to navigate while also balancing it with her own feelings of missing and loving him. basically: kiana has struggled a lot w instability and is thus kinda good at navigating it. ex: she isnt shaken by nagazora and literally tries again and again and again to save mei and convince mei to let her help. the thing is this fucks w her a bit though because a big thing that she does as a means to cope w instability is avoiding them (not reflective of real life of course, but in the fictional hi3 this is partially represented in kiana's repressed memories about her actual origins as k423). she can not stand the realization that she killed himeko that she's so deep in denial and doesnt truly realize it until more than 10 chapters after himeko dies! she's so horrified with her being a herrscher she actively tries to not use her powers out of fear, even when it puts her in harms way (the chapter XI-EX CG!!!!!! her literally trying to kill herself!!) she literally runs away from her friends and loved ones because she's so scared of hurting them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! which is why her promise to himeko to not run away is so important!! because it addresses one of kiana's biggest flaws!!!!! this is especially important bc her refusal to continue her avoidance feeds into her arc during the herrscher of dominion chapters where she both faces her own guilt/identity and deliberately chooses perseverance and hope over nihilism!! she is hope!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#hoyoverse women tournament #hoyoverse #tournament poll #genshin impact #genshin #furina #honkai impact 3rd #hi3 #kiana kaslana #hi3 kiana

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thequeervampiric · 6 months

Text

favorite parts of Let It Out

just Knowing from the opening instrumentals that Paul is fucked

Paul being utterly alone and trapped in a building full of deadly musical zombies that want nothing more than to turn him

not being sure if he's gagging from unwanted people touching him, or from blue shit forming in his gullet

Paul reaching out to Bill after he touches Paul's face

Ted also stroking Paul's face. we love some villainous intimacy

Bill is also villainous here bc they're all infected but Paul LIKES Bill

"and I know it's a singular voice, Paul/you've just got to give up your choice!" ESPECIALLY after finding out in nightmare time that Pokey is "the singular voice"

the reveal that Paul has been breathing in spores from the meteor this entire time

Paul losing control over himself to the hive/Pokey and FINALLY singing, but only against his will

"am I finally coming round to a rhmyin' scheme?" and jazz hands

"I'm split in two. is this me, or is this you? am I dead? I'm coming apart! at the seams~"

"la da da da da da da da da~" and Paul's lil dance

"no no no, no, no, no!" Paul's own protests being used against him as part of the song

Paul having a blue shit tummy ache :(

the infected kneeling down to copy Paul's position

"I've never been happy. wouldn't that be nice?" is like a lore drop to me. Paul is Not doing well

"it's awful freeing now" and the twirl

"but what will I let in if I let it out?" is like a fucking thesis statement for the hatchetfield series.

"God help me now...if I let it...out~!!"

"we will not be resisted!"

"I don't...like...musicals!!!"

Paul ending the song by throwing a fucking grenade

#i'm normal and don't obsess over tgwdlm and let it out. aha #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #paul matthews #i Might do another one of these for inevitable. not sure yet #oh #emetophobia

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judasgot-it · 1 year

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Ello o/, may i request again (dk if i can tho, don't feel pressured if not maken), really love the post you made for the request my heart literally- aawkwkw, i have so many things to say to that post but really busy asfck like if i wnated to, i could literally write a essay or thesis statement, */ahem anyway

BSD boys, while having a fighting/argument with s/o they suddenly grip they're s/o's wrist too hard and ended up leaving a mark (they didn't mean to tho ;-;) that reminded the reader's past child abuse/not used to this type of conflict which lead to angst to comfort or just angst hehe. Idk this is just a random 2am thought(my time rn) I have classes later waking up at 4am too…

AHHHHHH omg yes I'm so sorry I haven't like set up any request rules yet which I should do lol, but I'm so shehejwj but I don't have limits on requests! I just try to get to them when I can <3 Also I'm so sorry about the late response! College is hard x[

But also, I wanna do some scenarios for this, so I'm gonna have to only pick a few that I feel I can write the best for this if that's ok cause ngl I feel the mercury retrograde rn,,,

Scenario: Accidentally triggering past abuse/trauma during an argument (Ranpo, Dazai)

Ranpo

Ranpo was a rather loud guy. That's not his fault, since he's only loud whenever he has a reason to be - he's confident because he knows he can get away with it. He's smart enough to survive some of the most dangerous killers, and is bold enough to laugh in their face about it too.

But god is it aggravating as hell whenever you want to truly talk to the man one on one. Sometimes, you just want to have a normal date with him - like a normal couple and do normal couple stuff.

Like right now, you just want to walk down this busy street and not have to listen to him boast about how stupid people were. It was embarrassing how loud he was about it, how the person who got hit with a car could have easily avoided it had they just checked both sides of the street.

A normal conversation to have after witnesses a horrible event, but you could feel the stares from across the street from the mans wife. Especially towards Ranpo, who seemed to have no social boundaries as everyone else in the area seemed to instead be occupied with the normal human behavior of freaking out after witnessing a man flying in the air and being hit by a car.

To save face, you dragged him away, with him still talking about it as if it were a normal everyday thing. In his world, it probably was - but not to you. Not to normal people, who didn't think about death everyday.

"Ranpo, you need to quiet down."

"What? I'm just saying. It was pretty avoidable you know?"

You turned around to glare at him, gripping your enclasped hands tightly. He thought nothing of it, swirling his ramune bottle rather casually. The ball clinked around with each step the both of you took together.

"I know that. But you do know that it's pretty insensitive to say that in front of him and the wife who saw her husband get hit with a car."

"Y/n."

You were forced back as Ranpo stopped on the sidewalk. It was apart of a narrow stretch of road, empty and away from the commotion, which forced you to look at him. He was staring at you with his eyes, as if trying to puzzle something.

"You don't actually care about them."

There was a pause. You blinked once. Then twice.

"What do you mean by that?"

He held your hand tighter, almost painfully so.

"You don't really care about them that much. So why are you defending them?"

His viridian eyes bore into yours, which deeply unsettled you. He meant nothing by it, especially with the iron grip he had on your hand which kept you in your spot.

"Because not everyone is a superfreak like you Ranpo!"

But it made you incredibly uncomfortable.

You felt the need to defend yourself, somehow.

"Some people have 'empathy' which I know is a foreign concept to people like you."

It was as he cocked his head to the side, like a crow trying to understand what you had just told him. It was as if what you just said had gone right through him, like the wind.

"You don't mean that."

He pulled you towards him. You tried to step back, but you only found yourself stepping around and trying to find your balance again.

You flinched when Ranpo reached to balance you, but you still felt the energy from your sudden bout of frustration pumping through your body. It was embarrassing, but your mind and body were reacting all on their own.

Ranpo kept staring at you, looking past your angry scowl and into something deeper.

"I'm not your enemy Y/n, I know you're upset but there's something more."

He left you feeling naked there.

"It's not that deep. You don't need to defend yourself against me."

You looked down, avoiding his eyes. The sidewalk underneath you was rather cracked and abandoned - there was a dandelion growing just underneath your feet, a rather resilient flower.

"I'm not defending myself, I'm just..."

Ranpo lifted your chin up so you could meet his eyes again, which were now softer, as they had quickly figured out the puzzle that he's struggled with.

You looked back at him. A part of you wanted to keep arguing - it was in your nature, to keep fighting. Unfortunately, it was something you've done for a long time, which Ranpo has figured out by now.

Another thing that made you feel a little uncomfortable.

He met you with a cheeky smile, like a little rat. He closed his eyes, his cheeks raising to meet his eyes.

"I know. You're a good person Y/n."

Dazai

"I just don't think you understand. I can't expect you to, but it's not your problem, so why are you so upset about it?"

Dazai was looking at you from the couch, watching as you were once again picking up bottles he had left from one of his drinking binges. He still smelled of last night, wearing the same clothes and smelling of the various drinks he had lost himself in.

"It clearly is my problem. I'm the one cleaning up your mess right now, so how could I not be involved? Dear god, do you ever look at yourself and want to even try to be better?"

Dazai looked at you, sitting up from his previous lounging position. He stared up, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at you - his eyebags prominent in the early morning sunlight.

"What do you mean 'try' to be better? Have you ever even known what it's like to be like this?"

You rolled your eyes, dragging the bag to the front door so you could later bring it to the dumpster of your apartments. In your eyes, he was clearly being dramatic - sitting like some sort of mafioso, needing only a cigarette to seal the deal.

"Everyone has had it hard at one point Dazai. Losing yourself to alcohol every night and weekend doesn't justify it. You have a life to live you know? It's worth living."

You heard footsteps approach behind you, and looked up to see Dazai standing a little too close for comfort. His body was warm, and you could see the sweat and stains on his bandages. His hair was usually fluffy hair was greasy, but his eyes - they were dark, simply staring down at you.

"What do you know about living?"

"What?"

He had backed you into the wall, his hands now on either side of you, blocking you from exiting the danger that had become him and whatever emotional rage he had thrown himself into.

"You act like you know so much about life but you know nothing! You don't know anything about death or life - I don't think you know anything at all really. You feel all too comfortable making these assumptions about me when you don't know who I am, do you?"

He was smiling but it didn't reach his eyes at all.

You pushed at him, trying to find space to escape from his hold. His clothes and warmth made you want to burn your skin and run at that moment, and you closed your eyes in order to avoid the worst of your fears as you knew he was staring at you with those eyes that seemed to hold nothing but contempt in that very moment.

When you couldn't break free, instead feeling him pressing himself more against you, you felt your eyes begin to tear up.

"Dazai get the fuck away me."

"Or what? What will you do, oh sweet belladonna?"

You could feel tears build up in your eyes as your pushing did nothing against him - so you resorted to what you knew would work.

You raised your knee as hard as you could, and watched as Dazai fell hard on the ground, falling like a sack of potatoes. He writhed around, clutching his pearls while you gripped your pants, trying to soothe your nerves.

"Dazai I'm..."

You looked around your apartment, looking at the mess that it had become because of him. You looked back down at him, who was still on the ground and wasn't saying anything.

"Dazai I'm going to leave for a bit. Sorry."

I'm so sorry this took so long waaaaahh I'm a slow writer I'm working on it tho ;( also I was thinking about doing Jouno but I felt that it would've been super harsh so maybe I'll do him another time

#bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #ranpo x you #ranpo x reader #ranpo x y/n #dazai x reader #dazai x you #dazai x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x y/n

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luvvyouforever · 3 months

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rhys and john keats - modern au!rhysand x college student!reader ❥

↳ reader can barely handle the weight of college but rhysand is there to pick her up and help the pain.

↳ so self indulgent it hurts. set in a modern age where reader is a college student but rhysand is still high lord? idk honestly. mentions of stress, self doubt, comfort, crying. my day-to-day life essentially.

↳ requests are open! check characters in pinned post and link for requests is in my bio :)

the living room of your shared apartment with rhysand is a sight to behold. papers, printed copies of poems, books, pens, highlighters, and three energy drinks enclose you in a circular shape. it's horrifying and the sight is not eased by your messy hair, dark circles, and tear-stained cheeks. the semester was getting to you, clearly.

three papers were due for one class in the next two weeks. six quizzes were on the agenda and you had easily ten multiple page texts to read before class at 9am the following monday.

it had never been this stressful before but your time in college was coming to an end and that only ramped up the amount of work you had to complete. your final few semesters were certain to end you and you'd never get to walk across that stage to receive a blank page of paper which would eventually be replaced with your actual diploma. that's how it felt, at least.

minutes full of agony passed until you heard the familiar flapping of strong wings on the balcony. you didn't move from your sitting position as rhysand sauntered into the room, smile so wide it reached his violet eyes.

"my dear y/n," he whispered. his voice was so sweet that another tear forced its way out of your eye and down your cheek again. he must have sensed it, the stress pouring down your bond, or maybe he could somehow smell the salt of the tear as it dripped onto the page in your lap. he knelt down to meet your face and he pouted. "what's going on, darling?"

for the first time that night, you tore your gaze away from your work and met his eyes. "there's too much," you mumbled with a watery voice. "i can't do this."

he made a click with his tongue while examining the piles of work on the floor. his fingers lifted the assignment prompts and poems and syllabus requirements. more tears fell and you silently cursed each and every one of them.

"why can't you do it? what's challenging you?" he asked gently. it was not meant to condescend but he was trying to figure out how to help you in the best way possible.

"i feel like the analyses i'm coming up with are dumb, i don't understand the lines, the rhyme scheme is stupid, and i don't know what my thesis is for a moronic paper on keats should be. it's stupid and dumb and i'm stupid and dumb."

rhysand moved his hands to your cheeks before you could even react and pulled your face to meet his strong eye contact. his purple eyes bore into yours and he poured liters of reassurance down the bond. that mental claw in his head brushed against your mind in a calming manner. "do not say words like that, my love. you are so intelligent. and you're fully capable of managing everything on your plate."

you sniffed, feeling pathetic in his strong gaze. "i don't feel that way, though. i don't know how to deal with this stress, rhys. it's impossible. it's like this huge tower looming before me and i'm being asked to climb every single step in the best possible way or else i'll be pushed off of the top."

rhysand breathed out a sigh and his hand found your own. "i'm gonna help you climb that tower, okay?" he grabbed a brightly annotated copy of a keats poem and read over it.

"have you even read keats? or dickinson? do you know what a thesis statement is?" you asked. there was a bite to your words but it didn't faze rhysand in the slightest.

"of course i do, love. what do you think i do in my spare time when i'm not being an expert ruler? there's a small section i had put in the library, down on one of the lower floors, and it's full of human books. there's anthologies of authors, textbooks on writing, math theory, whatever you want, it's there. and i've perused it all. this poem-" he held up the printed keats "-is one of my favorites.

"so, the way i interpret this poem is that in order to withstand and stay strong in the face of suffering, we should indulge in poetry, beauty, and art. don't you think so?" he began to recite some lines which resembled this theme and suddenly, it all made sense.

he did that two more times with the other texts you had to write about. everything connected when he taught it and read it. you now had three outlines completed with well-developed thesis statements, annotated stories and poems for discussion, and three out of six quizzes were completed.

"thank you," you said, pouring as much love through your bond as you could. "really, thank you. this means so much to me."

"of course, my dear. shall i put on a sweater vest and glasses and replace your professor from here on out?"

you giggled and finally stood from the floor. the two of you walked into the kitchen to begin making a nutritious, filling dinner with your favorite velaris-sourced wine. "i would absolutely take you up on that offer if it didn't mean everyone in the class would be vying for your attention."

rhysand's arms wrapped around your midsection while you prepared food for dinner. his head leaned forward so that his mouth was by your ear. "i only have eyes for the smartest person in class."

can you tell i'm an english major? this is all very self-insert, i read the keats poem i talked about like two weeks ago :p

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar series #rhysand x reader #rhys acotar #rhysand acotar #rhysand #rhysand fluff #acotar x reader #acotar fanfic

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seventh-fantasy · 7 months

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re: jianghu as a queer space in mlc

here to answer @redemption-revenge !! in reply to this post

(also tagging @markiafc @ananeiah <3)

there are many definitions of jianghu, but this is specifically based on the framing of jianghu as the space people retreat to, away from the mainstream sphere governed by the imperial court. in that is a sense of rejection and defiance against the patriarchal, heteronormative values and norms, which had been enforced through a fixation on upkeeping order in the society. as such i guess it's not too much of a stretch to interpret jianghu as a queer space in a way that's characterised by a spirit of nonconformity to the norms. consequently, it makes sense for stories set in jianghu be used to illustrate and navigate queer identities/experiences/feelings - which I came to believe mlc had made really good use of.

there's always kind of a dichotomy between 江湖 jianghu and 庙堂 miaotang (ie. imperial court). like in mlc, there are two separate, distinct law enforcement bodies from the respective spheres - and jianghu strives to keep imperial court from interfering in their affairs. like how li xiangyi firmly stands against getting imperial court involved in jianghu matters. like how fang duobing is actively running away from the grip of the royal court on his life choices. the rejection of the mainstream (very conveniently and broadly put, confucian) norms in mlc also manifests in many of its key relationships being non-familial (in the sense of blood/marriage-based kinship) and there being little emphasis on the main characters' biological familial ties. (anyway this is for a whole different meta on its own... edit: it's here)

it's then actually a sort of irony that the imperial court's institution of law and order is what sigu sect/baichuan court had been formed to be a de facto counterpart to. so when li xiangyi becomes li lianhua, it triggered the process of deconstructing the meaning of installing such an institution and the need to maintain order to a fundamentally nonconforming space such as jianghu. mama fang's seemingly throwaway line of criticising li xiangyi and his mission is in fact the thesis statement in this particular reading of mlc's story: jianghu makes its own rules. nobody should dare to do it in its place.

now deprived of all means to fight like he used to, li xiangyi's new life as li lianhua is essentially a refresh of how he views jianghu. the death of li xiangyi the leader of sigu sect and top of wulin, meant taking apart the idea that jianghu is a lawless arena where the fittest fight to the top for power and control over wulin. and li lianhua then putting together lotus tower, living a life focusing on a domestic lifestyle this time for real far from the reach of the governance both from the imperial court and sigu sect/baichuan court, is him living the jianghu that's defined as a space away from any form of conformity.

with that, there's also a sense of queerness to this particular way of living as li lianhua, if you consider the chinese conceptualisation of gender being more social than biological. if femininity and masculinity were respectively characterised by inner/domestic sphere and external/any space outside of that, dare I say...it actually makes li lianhua's moving house mindblowingly smart as a metaphor for gender fluidity. lonely wanderers are common in wuxia but housed lonely wanderers? he carved for himself a domestic (ie. feminine) space in the wilderness - among a jianghu space that's still dominated by masculine values of aggression and competition. and being freely mobile makes this feminine space more fluid and less tied down than the more rigid, inert domestic, feminine spaces in traditional mainstream society. when you combine it with how his character has been fem-coded - even as li xiangyi (eg. yin-coded powers/energy) (also a whole other meta on its own... edit: it's here now), it speaks to a part of him that has always found appeal in qualities conventionally associated with femininity of stability, gentleness and non-aggression. and a rejection of expectations to fight and destroy. he is defining who he is in his own terms, in the true spirit of jianghu.

#莲花楼 #mysterious lotus casebook #my posts #lhl #lhlmeta #jielin writes something #also ofc the queer reading wrt defiance against norms in the way of choosing jianghu extends to fdb (and dfs?) individually too #fdb. ace. in particular #this meta can go longer. so much more to be said. but i was committed to posting it before i go to bed #but i'll say here first that i think it's the femininity in lxy that is what precisely makes him an unparalleled swordsman. not in spite of #apologies if it doesnt make any sense or just going off tangents in general lol it's 2am #struggled supremely writing this. for hours i was mind to mouth.meme #i sound batshit insane by the last part but at least that idea had been somewhat peer reviewed by my lovely friends...........#mark and ana don't read though before yall finish the show #also this is what happens to ur brain when ur other media obsession is a hardcore confucian critique/deconstruction #of a royal court intrigue story

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chaenniz · 1 year

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could you do a haerin ff abt a movie night type thing after surprising you after a bad day?

p.s. i still love you - kang haerin x reader

A/N ;; this ones short too 💀💀 wrote this listening to this,,,, angst coming soon…. maybe..

genre :: fluff

wc ;; 780

you trudged through the front door of your apartment, shoulders slumped and heart heavy.

it had been a long day at university, filled with deadlines, last-minute changes, and a never-ending stream of emails from your colleagues.

i mean, seriously, who decides to change the thesis statement last minute after you had already collected all the evidence for the previous one you had before?

all you wanted to do was crawl into bed and forget the world existed after such a last minute change, unsure of whether or not the fully drafted submitted paper even met the rubric.

as you kicked off your shoes and dropped your bag on the floor, you heard a faint sound coming from the living room.

you frowned, wondering if you had left the tv on by accident earlier, but then you realized that it was music.

soft, soothing music, the kind that made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

you followed the sound and found your cat-eyed girlfriend, kang haerin, sitting on the couch with a small smile resting on her face.

she was wearing a cozy sweater and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. she had a bowl of popcorn on her lap and a movie playing on the tv. she had also set up various snacks on the table in front of her.

"hey," she greeted you, her voice warm and welcoming. "how was your day?"

you sighed and plopped down next to her, leaning your head on her shoulder. "it was rough. i'm just glad it's over."

haerin wrapped her arm around you and gave you a squeeze. "well, i have something that might make you feel better."

you raised an eyebrow. "oh?"

she nodded and gestured to the tv. "i read your texts earlier, so i rented your favorite movie, and i made some popcorn. i thought we could have a movie night and forget about the real world for a little while."

you looked at her, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. haerin always knew just what you needed, even when you didn't know yourself. you smiled and leaned in for a kiss, grateful for her thoughtfulness.

"thank you," you whispered into her ear, your voice soft. "this is exactly what i needed."

haerin grinned and hit play on the movie. the familiar opening credits rolled across the screen, and you snuggled closer to her, feeling your worries slip away.

as the movie played, you found yourself getting lost in the story, the characters, the music. you laughed at the funny parts, cried at the sad parts, and felt your heart swell at the romantic parts. you couldn't remember the last time you had felt so relaxed.

during a particularly emotional scene, you felt haerin’s hand slip into yours. you looked over and saw her watching you with a gentle expression.

"are you okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

you nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat. "yeah. i'm just...really grateful for you, haerin. you always know how to make me feel better."

haerin smiled and squeezed your hand. "that's what girlfriends are for, right?"

you leaned in and kissed her, feeling a surge of love and gratitude. she had been your rock throughout the past year, supporting you through the ups and downs of life. you couldn't imagine where you would be without her.

as the movie ended and the credits rolled, you realized that you felt different.

lighter, happier, more at peace. haerin had given you a gift that was more valuable than anything money could buy: her time, her attention, her love.

"thank you," you said again, turning to face her. "that was perfect."

haerin grinned and leaned in for another kiss. "i’m glad you enjoyed it. and who knows, maybe we can make this a regular thing. movie nights with the girlfriend."

you laughed and pulled her close, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. with haerin by your side, you felt like you could conquer anything.

you snuggled into her embrace, feeling utterly grateful for this moment of peace and happiness.

"i would love that," you said, smiling up at her. "movie nights with my favorite person.”

haerin's face lit up with joy, and she leaned in to kiss you once more. "you're my favorite person too, you know that?"

you felt your heart swell with love, and you hugged her tightly. "i do now."

as you sat there in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of the moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would always have each other.

and that was enough to make any rough day worth it.

A/N ;; when will it be my turn fr ⁉️⁉️

#haerin #haerin x reader #kang haerin x reader #kang haerin #newjeans #newjeans x reader #fluff #wlw #chaenniz

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pochapal · 5 months

Text

Umineko Liveblog: Thoughts/Theories [Episode 1 Chapter 14 Edition]

Umineko Chapter 14’s thesis statement was “let’s take these patterns and conventions we’re establishing and blow them all up with gleeful abandon”. Less than an hour from the Second Twilight, we’re forced to bear witness to twilights four and five, and not necessarily in that order. The Witch Narrative is off the rails. The most important character in Umineko to me died, and Beatrice may actually well and truly be real for once. Whatever’s going on here is one hell of a mess.

So let’s try and untangle whatever the hell went down here. The Chapter 14 writeup tour includes the following stops: the hot mess formerly known as the Witch Narrative, Kinzo finally being totally super dead for real, the world’s nastiest most evil twink death in human history (Kanon), identity and furniture and roulettes, Beatrice the Golden Witch’s understated grand entrance into the story, the 19th person conundrum (part 7123748296), and some downright funky stuff happening beneath the story’s surface.

Let’s get this going.

To start, we need to talk about the Witch Narrative. So far, the Witch Narrative has been the term I’ve given to a very clearly established phenomenon and set of actions. When there are characters who have some kind of vested interest in encouraging you to view Rokkenjima as a supernatural incident rather than a crime, then that’s the Witch Narrative. The person painting the magic circles is perpetuating the Witch Narrative. Characters such as Eva and Hideyoshi talking about how frightful and demonic things are is also the Witch Narrative. If you’re thinking “maybe this is Beatrice after all” or if things are aligning a little too well with the worst interpretation of the epitaph riddle, then that is without a shadow of a doubt the Witch Narrative.

So what happened? Kanon being gouged in the chest and also killed mere minutes after the discovery of the torn-apart pair who are close is not right. Skipping to twilight five (for the trolls) straight after number two is not good Witch Narrative etiquette. The sequence of murders and horrors is crucial to authenticating this slaughter as folded within the ritual to revive the Golden Witch and/or reach the Golden Land. Everything so far has dictated that in order for the witch to revive and none to be left alive certain steps must be carried out in a certain order. If this performance is thrown out of sequence for its audience, the song goes funky. Suddenly you’re aware you’re watching people playing pretend on a stage and this world you’re buying into is only ephemeral. If the sequence of deaths doesn’t matter, then this isn’t an occult ritual at all. It is in fact a disguised butchering.

Showing your hand like this this early makes things very difficult for those peddling this narrative. Deaths happening out of sequence takes this from a supernatural force happening beyond everyone’s control to something that could easily done by a human desperate to make everybody believe. If my theories about how this performance is happening ring true, then it becomes infinitely harder for Genji to make any further moves with the simultaneous blow of his most useful pawn kicking it early and the order of events getting all scrambled. How can the stomach, leg, and knee get gouged in a way that still works in service for this narrative now?

Given what I’m thinking, Genji is likely moving on his own now. Kumasawa and maybe Nanjo are complicit in the spreading of the story, but they are almost certainly unable to be as useful to any kind of scheme as Kanon was. They are older, less mobile, less physically able. Kumasawa can scream about magic circles all she likes, but does she have the strength to move and mutilate corpses? Very unlikely. The options to carry things out have been severely limited to an almost unsalvageable degree. Every crime so far has been a type of locked room that works via tricks that could only be carried out by two active parties. Being on your own can only get you so far.

Which leads you to an immediate conclusion: Kanon dying in the basement boiler room was not part of the plan. Or, not part of the Witch Narrative at least. His death marks a point where this scheme has totally gone off the rails, and Genji’s script has been rendered worthless. The presentation of the death is obfuscated, but the truth beneath it is that something went deeply wrong that shouldn’t have.

This is a bold claim I’m making, but I also think I have enough proof in the story to substantiate it. I think, going by everything, the next incident following the deaths of Eva and Hideyoshi was to involve the basement in one form or another. I also think that this was being prepared in parallel with the Second Twilight – Genji and Nanjo leave the kitchen at the same time as Kanon and Kumasawa, but the two men don’t reach the scene until after Kanon has already unlocked the room and Eva and Hideyoshi have been found dead with the stakes in their skulls. Enough time to, say, take a trip down to the basement and set some dominoes in motion.

As to what I think was part of the Witch Narrative, I think everything was on track right up until the moment Kanon set foot in the basement. The foul smell filling the hallway was almost certainly set in motion by Genji and/or Nanjo (perhaps by turning on the boiler while Eva and Hideyoshi were being found in order to time it to make the smell the strongest at the perfect time – this may also have precluded moving Kinzo’s body there depending on where he was before now). Kanon acting bizarrely freaked out was part of the plan. As was Kumasawa screaming about hearing a noise, and the two of them breaking off from the group to rush ahead to investigate. Everything falls apart when Kanon sets foot in the basement and Beatrice shows up and he dies.

So what was the intended plan in the basement involving Kinzo? I think, if I were to hazard a guess based off of pre-existing patterns, the boiler room in the basement was going to be used as another locked room, this time featuring Kinzo. I think this would have been a play in two acts. The first act would have Kanon and Kumasawa chase the noise to the basement and “find” the head’s ring on the ground. The family would search the boiler room and find the back door exit locked up, and no sign of Kinzo anywhere in sight (there would be efforts taken to keep anyone from investigating the boiler). The ring alone on the ground in an empty room would stand in for the Third Twilight – Kinzo is without his headship and authority, so it must therefore fall to everyone to praise Beatrice’s noble name in his stead. Dissatisfied and creeped out, everyone leaves the basement – the back door is locked from the inside, and the front door locked with a key placed in Natsuhi’s possession.

From here, this would likely have led to another discussion chapter about how the ring got there. The setup of the scene would be enough that Battler would question whether or not a nineteenth person placed the ring there, or if Kinzo himself actually dropped it there as part of some other ploy. The servants would be questioned and swear up and down there was nobody else in the basement when they entered. The sound would be discussed, as would the impossibility that anybody known to be alive could make that noise. The conversation would then turn to Kinzo as the likely suspect and Natsuhi, who’s been complicit in covering up Kinzo’s death for some time already, would start sweating as this truth grows closer to being uncovered. It’s up in the air as to whether or not the servants would help or hinder Natsuhi here, but I think it’s likely Battler would have started to think on Eva’s words from earlier. More fuel on the Natsuhi culprit fire that she can’t fight because she can’t admit to knowing what he knows. Maria would then cackle and say to everyone that this is obviously Beatrice manipulating things with her magic, and boom, scene.

Something would then happen in the next chapter to turn attention back to the boiler room. Perhaps the smell grows stronger. Perhaps the conversation about Kinzo grows to a fever pitch. Perhaps a servant fakes hearing another noise from the basement. Whatever the case, we would return to the boiler room a second time. There would be a point made of showing Natsuhi pulling out the only key to the boiler room and everyone stepping inside to find Kinzo’s body on the floor, burned up with an icepick stake in his forehead. The inner lock for the back door would still be set. Genji and Nanjo would confirm the body’s identity via the polydactyly. Somehow, Kinzo’s dead body appeared in the middle of a perfectly locked room.

Likely there would then be discussions of who could have killed Kinzo, given that at the time of his “death” everyone was yet again together (minus Kanon/Genji slipping in and out of the parlor to get food and drinks). The assumption would be that Kinzo was alive in there all along, and then killed himself for some reason – contradicted by the fact that if he launched himself into the boiler, how did he drag himself back out into the middle of the floor? The mystery would stump Battler, because the only major solution would be to assume a nineteenth person was also already hiding in the locked basement, and killed Kinzo and displayed the corpse, but Battler would chessboard himself out of leaning on that option. Out of options and stumped, we would stay at another stalemate where there’s no proof that Beatrice exists, but no way that the surviving humans could have set up this scene (there are of course ways, such as a back door that wasn’t really locked or a second key/master key with which to return to the boiler room and set things up, but nobody will think of them). The horrors would escalate. The Witch Narrative would persist. And so on. And so on.

This scenario, believable as it is, never came to happen. Instead we got what we got, and we need to figure out why. Why did Kinzo show up like this? Why did Kanon die, despite all known logic and reasoning stating that the contrary would be ideal? Why are things speeding up at such an exponential rate? I think we can get a good shape of what was supposed to be with Kinzo, but understanding what happened with Kanon is almost certainly the linchpin driving this deviation from the Witch Narrative.

So, let’s review: Kanon and Kumasawa head to the basement after “hearing a noise” that nobody could have possibly made. Kanon speeds off ahead of Kumasawa and encounters… something in the boiler room. He has a conversation with this something and comes to a revelation about his status as a human being, and then he gets gouged in the chest and killed. The presentation is straightforward: Kanon sees butterflies in the boiler room, he identifies it as Beatrice, he stands in defiance of her, and dies as a result. Except, of course, that it really isn’t that simple at all.

The tonal shift is introduced through the phrase “a fantastical scene”. Fantasy has been a phrase thrown about a few times in the story so far by characters in reference to very specific things, people, and concepts. The siblings call Kinzo’s story of the gold ingots “fantasy”. Beatrice is “fantasy”. The occult symbols around Rokkenjima are “fantasy”. Maria’s behaviour is “fantasy”. Straight away, we can draw parallels between the use of the word “fantasy” and the term “existence”. To be fantasy is to “exist”, is to be something that is propped up by narrative and belief irrespective of the material reality.

In that case, what does it mean for a scene to be fantasy? In a story about storytelling and about fantasy and about “existence”, there is surely nothing accidental about the prose describing a series of events as “a fantastical scene”. Two things are immediately happening here. The first is that we are stepping into the framework of fantasy, of belief without proof and immateriality fuelled more by ghosts than flesh. The second is that we are entering into a self-conscious scene capable of describing itself as such. This is a narrative unit that knows what it is, a story told by a teller with an agenda.

I think to explain what’s happening here, it’s worth circling all the way back to some of the metafictional stuff I was entertaining back before people started dying. More specifically, the notion that there are narrators with agendas involved in the construction and presentation of Umineko. This is most passively seen in the less-reliable third person scenes where we can be shown metaphor and falsehood to convey a deeper emotional truth – Kinzo has most likely been dead all along, and yet he has also made numerous appearances in his study over the weekend of the family conference. However, the “fantasy” of these moments is never explicitly highlighted. These scenes are a type of “fantasy”, but not a fantasy that you need to be told is the case. You can understand Natsuhi and Genji’s hearts and feelings towards Kinzo regardless of whether or not you think the family head is alive or dead.

Here, though, to be directly told you are witnessing a fantasy is tipping the scales. The arbitrator of this fantasy, of whatever might be going on in the narrative beyond the framing confines of Rokkenjima, is much more actively and directly introducing the concept to Kanon’s final moments. On their own, they would be in the same vein as whatever was happening with the Kinzo scenes if a little more heavy handed and obtuse, but we are not left to puzzle out whether or not we can trust what we are seeing. We are told outright this is fantasy. We are forced to acknowledge from the outset that there is something untrustworthy and unreliable about this chunk of the story.

Why?

I think that this is glaring evidence of some kind of discrepancy between the narrator(s) and the actors in Umineko. Something happens in the boiler room which the narrative feels the need to paint over with a depiction of swarms of butterflies and cackling murderwitches – the need to plaster fantasy over this scene matters more than upholding the story’s rule that Beatrice remains a possibility in shadow. Just as I argued that the Witch Narrative went off the rails here, I think the same thing applies to the Umineko Narrative as well. If there’s a metafictional “game” going on here, then Kanon in the boiler room knocked that off kilter, too. The zero on the roulette threatened to ruin not only “Beatrice”, but also Beatrice and also the fabric of the text itself. Whatever Kanon did or almost did rattled a lot of people all at once.

But what is this thing, actually? What we’re shown is Kanon having enough of being bound to the whims of Kinzo and Beatrice and their bastardised excuse for “magic”, and him deciding as a result to abandon his position and furniture and ruin the demon’s roulette in motion. In real terms, this is hard to parse as meaningful outside of its fantasy context. Kinzo, as we know, is not the one setting the roulette in motion in the way we’re led to believe. Beatrice is a dubiously-extant entity represented by so many different people wearing her name instead of a concrete person. Magic is anything belonging to the realm of metaphor or anything that happens on a non-material level. And the Demon’s Roulette is the catch-all term for the epitaph ritual, the Witch Narrative, and maybe also the layers of abuse going on on Rokkenjima.

The only term that has a direct material representation is “furniture”. Luckily, this is probably the most important part of Kanon’s moment of defiance, so it is extremely fortuitous that we can more easily define furniture in a way that makes sense in order to more deeply understand what’s actually going on here.

To recap, “furniture” is the label applied to servants on Rokkenjima within Kinzo’s inner circle. Three servants in the story use this label – Shannon, Kanon, and Genji. From Shannon’s backstory that we got in chapter 8 during the proposal, it is very likely that “furniture” is a term foisted upon the teenage orphan servants that come and go on Rokkenjima as a kind of degrading, abusive brand. We see this most keenly through Shannon, who submits to Battler’s sexual harassment because she is furniture and thus lacks the will to deny anything. These vulnerable abused kids are forced into a new name and a new role where they are little more than living objects for people more powerful than them to use and abuse as they see fit. To be furniture is to be totally under the thumb of Kinzo’s abuse, serving those needs even when it goes against all morality and all that you are.

Genji’s positioning with the label is less clear, given that he was, at some point at least, on more equal footing with Kinzo. It is likely that Genji adopted the “furniture” label for himself as a kind of expression of his feelings – he is nothing more than an extension of Kinzo’s will, and all he does is in service of his master. He does not have a life outside of servitude. However, the difference here is that Genji willingly stepped into the label versus Shannon and Kanon who had it forced upon them. To an outside perspective, this creates an unfair impression of equality between the three of them, when Genji absolutely has more material autonomy and personal rights than either Shannon or Kanon. Genji feels bad about Kinzo and about how all he can be to the man is his butler. Shannon and Kanon are cruelly abused and dehumanised every second of their lives. It is a false equivalency. The only commonality here is that to be “furniture” is to occupy an undesirable position within hierarchy.

Under this light, Kanon’s declaration that he is no longer furniture can immediately be read as Kanon deciding in that moment to cease existing as an object to be used by people with more power than him – power “exists”, and in a closed environment ruled by fantasy, power can be denied with more ease than would normally be available. Kanon decides he is no longer an extension of another’s will, but instead his own person. He decides this because Shannon is dead, and the least he can do is take revenge against the systems that killed her.

That said, such an explanation is deceptively simple. If denying your status as furniture comes when you cease to adhere to the whims of power, the boiler room scene carries with it the implication that this is the very first time Kanon has done anything of his own will. Kanon has been deeply involved with the Witch Narrative thus far, and if this scene is to be trusted then this is an admission that he has had zero autonomy in the prior events. Or, to expand this further, Kanon is not where he wishes to be and is only now realising this desire. He steps out of his role as a pawn in the augmented fiction around him, and Beatrice kills him for it.

You can view this as happening on multiple layers, each one perfectly able to feed into the “fantasy” hanging over everything. On the level of the Witch Narrative, this is Kanon partaking in an act of defiance and getting killed for it. On a more abstract level, this is Kanon threatening to ruin Umineko and being taken out of the story as a result. To be killed by Beatrice so explicitly comes with much deeper ramifications given the state of Beatrice's presence in the story thus far. If a ghost-myth-metaphor appears in the flesh to kill you and turn you into a prop for the next part of the story, what does that mean?

It was not enough for Kanon to just die. He had to be gouged and killed and transformed into the victim of the next twilight – you can easily make the argument that under the terms of the story being turned into a gouged/killed victim is yet another, more severe form, of being rendered furniture. With the Ushiromiya siblings, this concept can easily exist as a form of poetic irony – these powerful abusive individuals are all left as butchered pieces of furniture to be used and deployed however Beatrice sees fit. You are never as powerless as you are when you're a mangled corpse being manipulated by your own killer.

Except Kanon was already furniture – in his own words, even, this is a servitude that applies to Beatrice as much as it does Kinzo. The reversal of fortune works less well on Kanon; his death is an act of rebellion that is transformed into a reinforcement of his inescapable position. He tries to become human and fails at the first hurdle, and thus goes from being furniture to once again being furniture.

I think this situation is worth examining through the lens of the dichotomy of self framework to yield more information. To recap, almost everybody in Umineko struggles with the gap between who they want to be and who they're forced to be. This is a near-universal constant, seen with Natsuhi as much as it is with Shannon. Everyone desperately desires to be somebody else, and hardly anybody can reach this dream.

Kanon is a curious wrinkle in this pattern in several regards. Up until now, as a servant Kanon has been markedly less furniture-like than Shannon. At every turn he has been prickly and begrudging and making no secret of his own feelings to himself, unlike Shannon who leaned so far into the mask she ended up cutting herself off from herself. With Shannon, Sayo almost certainly feels more complicated and unpleasant emotions, but this is completely partitioned off from her servant self. With Kanon, there is an emotional authenticity to his character, but unlike Shannon, Kanon's “Sayo” is nowhere to be seen.

Kanon is not trying to become his desirable self. He is attempting to transform his undesirable self. Where Shannon/Sayo was looking for an exit from being furniture through George, Kanon's actions promise no such escape. He never discards his furniture name, only the label. Kanon does not multiply himself. Kanon reduces himself into a singular concentrated point within the story.

To Beatrice, an entity that thrives on multiplicity and iterative selfhood, an individual who not only defies her rule of power but also eschews his own identity complex in the face of self-actualisation would be something to be loathed. In Chapter 14, Kanon stands for everything Beatrice is not: painfully human, and painfully material.

By rejecting the status of furniture, by holding true to the only name he’s gone by in the story, Kanon is fraying the edges of the hard rules of the fiction governing Umineko. Everyone in this story is duplicitously in tension between their perceived and ideal selves. This tension allows for a rife breeding ground for secrets and uncertainty. This grey area turns everyone on Rokkenjima from human beings into murder mystery characters. This nebulous state of being is the genesis for “existence”. This is how Beatrice asserts dominion.

Kanon chooses a position that is neither, essentially queering the witch-human dichotomy. He is not Kanon the performer in Beatrice’s narrative of magic and murder, but nor is he Kanon the servant in Kinzo’s narrative of power and abuse. His moment of empowerment coming as it does throws all this off the rails, just as this sequence of events throws the epitaph ritual off the rails.

Kanon, in real terms, deals a potentially fatal blow to the Witch Narrative through his “zero on the roulette” gambit, and Beatrice’s only recourse is to clumsily plaster over this act of rebellion with fantasy before any Detective-oriented observer can bear witness to what could be this entire pantomime’s undoing.

However, what happens in the boiler room is not a simple act of metafictional housekeeping. There is a strong and prevalent sense that whatever Beatrice does, she does it spitefully. Shortly before Kanon’s death, there is a bizarrely=presented exchange between himself and the witch, curious for myriad reasons.

Two things which immediately stand about the moment in question are firstly that this serves as our introduction (allegedly) to Beatrice’s presence in the story, and that it tips us off to the fact that there may be an element of hypocrisy to the impartiality of the so-called indiscriminate murderwitch. Kanon’s reward for his defiance is subjecting the Golden Witch Beatrice to the mortifying ordeal of being known, and so we owe it to him to see what we see when the curtain is tugged at even just a little bit.

The immediate thing which jumps out is that Beatrice addresses Kanon not with annoyance, but with loathing. There is something personal and vindictive about the retribution she inflicts upon him. It’s not enough to simply kill him with the stake and set up another Twilight; there is a mockery and a derision. Before Kanon is killed by Beatrice, Kanon is made aware of how much Beatrice hates him. The why in the moment is mostly clear - Kanon threatens to undermine Beatrice’s narrative, which applies simultaneously to all Beatrices and all narratives in play - but we are told in as many words that this rage is specific and personal.

Earlier, we have a comment from Kanon that he refuses to be led astray “again” by either Beatrice or Kinzo which is. Interesting and revealing wording to say the least. Especially when we try to consider who the person behind Beatrice may be in this scene.

If, somehow, we had confirmation that the Beatrice in the boiler room was a metaphor for Genji, then this exchange would make more sense. Kanon the begrudging accomplice making one act of rebellion too many, and Genji’s facade of professionalism slipping to show a hint of what may be true emotions below the surface. Except Genji is not in the basement with Kanon very much on purpose, so whatever materially happened to Kanon did not directly involve Genji, the most likely living target for these emotions.

It’s not even worth pretending Kinzo is alive enough in this moment to not only hear Kanon’s words, but also respond. Even in my initial hypothetical “narrative-compliant Third and Fourth Twilights” outline, for any of it to work Kinzo has to be dead at this moment. And more than that, Kanon specifically makes sure to distinguish between Kinzo and Beatrice in his speech. He has not only been led astray by Kinzo, but also by Beatrice. In this interaction, to Kanon, Kinzo and Beatrice are separate entities.

So the question becomes, as it has been from literally the start: who is Beatrice?

I don’t think it’s possible to answer this question in the direct sense of “what is the identity of the person behind the witch that killed Kanon”, but I think we can explore “what this figure we are calling Beatrice like as an individual?”. The Detective’s truth on the matter remains obscured to the point where any guesses at this point would be meaningless, but the Romantic’s truth remains a valid option. We don’t need to unmask Beatrice to get a sense of her character.

What we know about Beatrice in this chapter is thus: she appears via a cloud of butterflies, she is associated with the fantastical, and she makes the active choice to kill Kanon and wrap his death into another Twilight. From this, we can extrapolate a few things: this Beatrice operates at least in part in adherence to her own mythos, even if she doesn’t necessarily strictly uphold the Witch Narratives in the terms that the culprits have set out. She is not in total alignment with whatever scheme is going on with the Witch Narrative, and she has on some level a personal, spiteful disdain towards Kanon.

When Beatrice kills Kanon, she puts him down as the “furniture” he is. When he attempts his self-actualisation, there is a moment where the narrative insight we get into Beatrice condemns him as foolish and futile and vulgar. It is not simply annoying that Kanon is stepping out of his role. It actively repulses Beatrice on some level. From what we get of Beatrice, there is the impression that Kanon’s decision deeply violates some kind of taboo to the point where Beatrice’s mode of operation leaves the fantastical and dips into the visceral, even if only momentarily.

So what we can claim to learn is that there is something irreparably offensive to Beatrice about people stepping out of the confines of their pre-ordained roles, which is something incredibly interesting to consider. She holds a deep loathing towards Kanon for daring to defy his fate, more so than someone like Genji would if this were a mere case of Kanon messing up the Witch Narrative. Beatrice takes Kanon’s transgression personally, not in the sense that this is a specific attack on her, but in the sense that it upsets her sensibilities more than anything else could.

So why would that be? What about some small little servant choosing to throw off his symbol of abuse and oppression is so offensive to a mighty witch such as Beatrice? She’s centuries old, an accomplished alchemist, and brimming with supernatural power. According to all we know of the Beatrice mythos, she should be able to toss Kanon aside with a snap of her fingers. But there is a mockery towards him, a taunting and a toying coming from a personal degree of loathing.

I wouldn’t go as far as to say that Kanon got under Beatrice’s skin, but it’s something close. She takes something out on him for his transgression towards her - in his speech, Kanon marks out both Kinzo and Beatrice as individuals he is defying, and that has to be important. It’s clear to see why a furniture servant abandoning the degradation would upset fascist abuser supreme Kinzo, but what about this would be so upsetting to Beatrice? Why would she care at all?

I have some idea, but to elaborate on that I first need to talk about one other curious feature of Beatrice’s presentation in this chapter. She has as tangible a presence as you can get in this chapter, except for one detail: in her “conversation” with Kanon, Beatrice never actually speaks. Her “dialogue” is relayed through the narration and through Kanon’s own responses, but Beatrice herself remains voiceless.

The immediate effect of this is that Beatrice remains in obscurity even as she shuffles around the spotlight. We know in this chapter that she gets mad at Kanon and kills him, but we don’t get anything concrete about Beatrice. No face, no voice. In other words, Beatrice is not given an active presence in the story. She is relayed to us second-hand, even though she plays a crucial role in the events in the boiler room.

There is something to this beyond the benefits to the mystery narrative that keeping Beatrice obscured entails. Of course this presentation keeps us guessing about several elements of Beatrice’s existence - we can’t say either way what Beatrice’s physical form looks like or what it could mean. Revealing Beatrice definitively as either a human or a witch would run counter to Umineko’s narrative worse than anything Kanon could ever dream of.

However, that does not necessarily mean that the only way Beatrice could have appeared in this chapter was in this way. It’s not enough that she’s a hidden presence. She’s also a passive one. She performs no direct action. She never directly tells us anything. Beatrice is kept in check by the narrative as a spectral entity. The only “active” thing we see of Beatrice happens to be her own feelings towards Kanon’s desperate stance.

Beatrice is held in fantasy and only fantasy. The one exception to this is still little more than a gesture at Romantic examination. Beatrice has no tangible, material, Detective’s presence to her. Even in death, Kanon’s murder is not described as someone plunging the stake into him. The stake appears and he is impaled by it - passive voice for emphasis. The only “active” step taken in the death sequence is when Kanon pulls the stake out of his chest. Nothing is directly manipulated by Beatrice’s hands.

Technically, we can’t actually say Beatrice does anything in this chapter. This is something that in truth ties into the broader presentation of Beatrice as a figure in Umineko. Going by the stories told by the servants about Beatrice beyond the Witch Narrative, there is a common thread in all these tales: Beatrice shows up and then something happens. Even in Shannon’s story of the injured servant, her tale is not “Beatrice pushed the servant down the stairs”. It is “a servant disrespected Beatrice and then fell down the stairs”.

There is a very understated and very curious denial of agency seen with Beatrice, on reflection. All she’s really allowed to do is sit there as a cloud of butterflies and be an emblem for misfortune happening that is later accredited to her. I’ve referred to Beatrice as a murderwitch throughout this liveblog, but what’s interesting is that while this reputation is there, we aren’t ever shown more than the reputation itself.

The excuse so far has been that the literal witch Beatrice has been unable to do anything on account of needing to be resurrected in order to return to the material plane first. But even that narrative is something contradicted to the point where it can’t be trusted. Kinzo’s scenes make it clear this is all an attempt to summon Beatrice from a place nobody can normally reach, yet he is also convinced in some scenes that Beatrice is already there, watching him with amusement from the sidelines.

This could be explained away with the whole “Beatrice lacks a physical form and thus she isn’t really there” line of reasoning, except that in chapter 14 she appears to quite literally orchestrate Kanon’s death, and prior to that she allegedly had the means of injuring a servant who disrespected her. How can Beatrice cause harm to servants and yet also be so far removed from the physical world that a violent occult ritual is needed to ensure her presence?

Beatrice is not there, and yet Beatrice is there. In other words, Beatrice “exists”. It’s not just that Beatrice “exists” but that the act of being Beatrice is to inherently inhabit a position of “existence”. Beatrice is a passive entity, strictly defined by indirect non-involvement.

In other words, from a certain angle, Beatrice The Golden Witch is just as restrictive a role as “furniture”. To be Beatrice is to be unseen, voiceless, inactive. No matter how much you may feel or hate or rage you are not given the cathartic release of wrapping your hands around someone’s throat. For all her loathing of Kanon, the only tool at Beatrice’s disposal is to continue to perpetuate her own myth-narrative, merely folding Kanon into the pattern. And at this stage, the Witch Narrative is more akin to a process than a personal action. There is something very distanced and abstracted about killing for the Twilights; it is about continuing to engage with the horror-mystery and not about yourself and your own feelings.

Even through the metaphorical allegories of Beatrice this mode is seen. Genji is bound to the role of Beatrice, defined as his tragic and terrible devotion to Kinzo. Genji couldn’t have escaped this fate if he’d tried. Kanon is coerced into upholding the Witch Narrative through his position as furniture, thus conflating both states of being into one and the same thing. Even further back, whoever is behind the story of the alchemist that gave Kinzo the gold is reduced to a portrait of a white woman in the mansion’s hallway, stripped of everything but a confining ideal. To be Beatrice is to be contained by other people’s demands and expectations.

When it’s laid out like this, it is no surprise that Beatrice reacts to Kanon’s rebellion with outrage. This choice is the one thing she can never do because her whole existence as Beatrice is predicated on that not being an option. Beatrice, no matter the form she takes, is trapped in her role. To cease being trapped by the role of Beatrice is also to lose the power granted by being Beatrice. She is the demon’s roulette. Anyone who risks becoming something more than their assigned category is anathema to her entire nature.

Kanon rebels against Kinzo’s will where Beatrice never could. No wonder she kills him for it.

But, of course, now we need to think about how Beatrice actually managed to kill Kanon in the first place. And to do that we need to revisit the next most obvious from the start question: how many people are on Rokkenjima?

The 19th person issue is one that at times feels too blatant to give more than a cursory amount of attention to: there are nineteen people “existing” on Rokkenjima because Beatrice is an immaterially real shared identity construct. There only being eighteen physical bodies is irrelevant to this count - the number of “people” increases further if you start thinking about people’s multiplicitous selves as their own entities. Witch Maria and Human Maria, adultsona George and kidsona George, Shannon and Sayo, Natsuhi and Ushiromiya Natsuhi, et cetera. Beatrice being an additional facet of the peddlers of the Witch Narrative is merely this mechanism brought to an extreme point.

Except, cutting past all the fantasy and obfuscation, Kanon does still in fact get killed in the boiler room. At the time of this murder, either eight or nine people are already dead by this point. And of the eight other survivors, seven of them very conspicuously are not in a position to murder him at all.

So this dilemma boils down to a singular issue: either Kumasawa killed Kanon, or a nineteenth individual did. The story goes to great lengths to ensure that this is the setup we’re working with here. Where Eva and Hideyoshi were allegedly killed in a way only a witch could have done, Kanon could have only been logistically killed by a witch and nobody else.

There is of course a third angle here, and that’s that Kanon killed himself. It’s technically an option on the table, but one I am not sure has much, if any, basis. The entire scene hinges around Kanon choosing to act out in defiance in a space devoid of observers. There is nobody save for the reader for Kanon to convince of the authenticity of his words and motives. For this premise to work, it would almost certainly necessitate a level of metatextual awareness from Kanon that we have not seen at all.

Kanon acts and reacts to a threat in the room. Kanon makes it clear that his goal is to take this person down with him if he can’t save himself. Everything points to there being a second person in the room with Kanon capable of inflicting harm on him. A person that would, then, hypothetically, flee out of the back door and into the night before being found.

At this point in the story, even Battler is fairly on board with there being a 19th person moving around on the island. After all, nobody among the group of survivors could have been responsible for killing Kanon, save for maybe the incredibly frail Kumasawa. The options are pared down to Kumasawa, suicide, or a 19th person. This person’s identity is unknown, but the fact of their existence is, on the surface of things, pretty undeniable.

This, however, feels like a trap. The existence of a 19th person is part and parcel of the Witch Narrative. To readily agree that there is a 19th person on the island is to buy into the same immaterial theatre spawning the magic circles and the demonic stakes and letters speaking of alchemy. You either accept all of it, or you accept none of it. It’s already been established that the occult artifacts at the murder scene are little more than decoration placed by somebody doctoring the bodies. If this fact is true, then the existence of a nineteenth person must therefore be false.

But if Kanon was murdered by somebody, that somebody was not among the eight survivors. Thus the contradiction making this yet another “impossible” mystery. The only two points of data we have are totally irreconcilable.

Save for one read on the situation: Kanon was killed by somebody outside of the group of survivors, and this individual is also not a 19th person. There is exactly one way in which this can be true, and that’s to consider the possibility that the person that killed Kanon is among those presumed dead.

This is something that’s not impossible. The obvious objection is that for a person who we think is dead not being dead is that that would invalidate the epitaph murder ritual, but we’ve already established that the sequence of events only has value as far as convincing the survivors of something inescapably occult. If twilights can happen out of order, then there’s no reason why we need to assume that a victim has to actually be dead. It’s all about the affect.

If this were true, it would allow somebody outside of the group to move around and kill without disrupting the premise of the eighteen on Rokkenjima. This would mean that Kanon’s killer is one of the victims of either the first or second twilights.

From the outset, both pools of suspects are problematic. Eva and Hideyoshi, even if they weren’t dead somehow, were both physically in the guest room at the time of the murder - there’d be no way for either of them to sneak by the others down into the basement to kill Kanon. The six on the first twilight, beyond being mangled past recognition, are stuck within a locked room to which only Natsuhi has the key.

I still think that if we’re to entertain this possibility, the culprit must be one of those assumed to be inside the garden storehouse. Which means we’ll need to interrogate the function and construction of this reverse locked room.

It’s an established fact that the shed is locked from the outside. It is also an established fact that there is only one key, and this key is held by Natsuhi who has not had a single meaningful opportunity to sneak off and unlock the storehouse.

The only way to interrogate this setup without contradicting the physical facts of the story is through a Detective/Romantic examination of chapter 10’s narration. What we know are the above datapoints. Everything else is extrapolation and assumption, especially if we abide by the non-Battler POV = Romantic obfuscation logic.

So, extending that line of thinking leads us to distrust anything that can’t be immediately verified by the scenes in the parlor. The most crucial fact, and the one that the argument I am making hinges on, is that everybody that was killed still being in the storehouse when it was locked up cannot be trusted with absolute certainty. The only people on the scene during the locking of the storehouse were those involved in the Witch Narrative to some degree, and Natsuhi, who by her own admission could not stomach to look upon the scene for longer than necessary.

Who is to say that, during this period of uncertainty and unreliable perspective, somebody playing dead inside the storehouse slipped out while Natsuhi was looking away in disgust? This would facilitate the existence of an individual who is not part of the group of survivors, yet who also does not contravene the 18 person premise.

There are holes in this, of course. It’s a huge leap to assume that Natsuhi somehow missed a whole person getting up and leaving the storehouse, and there are numerous questions as to how the narrative-peddling servants would permit someone to roam free who would then later betray the occult illusion and murder Kanon. But the basis of this theory is not impossible, so perhaps there are ways to work around this.

We already know Natsuhi’s perspective is highly unreliable, as proven earlier in that exact chapter. She so desperately wants to hide the fact of Kinzo’s death that she starts to buy her own lies, having imagined hallucination conversations in a most likely empty study to verify her own beliefs. If brain ghost grandpa can “exist” through Natsuhi, then it is much less of a stretch for her to willingly or unknowingly let something like this slip. Maybe she was in her own head. Maybe she tuned it out in an act of extreme denial. Either way, it is theoretically possible for Natsuhi to overlook something that big.

As to the servants permitting this, the obvious answer is that this person was allowed to let go as a contingency by Genji in the event of a Witch Narrative stalemate. An additional body roaming around that the audience of this theatre has already written off would be a huge boon in authenticating his own crimes. This person killing Kanon, then, would not necessarily be the end of the world for Genji - as per maybe-Kinzo’s words regurgitated through a hallucinatory phantom, total annihilation is as valid an option on the table as any other outcome. A roulette can land on many outcomes, and an “impossible” killer taking Kanon out transforms this individual into Beatrice in the consciousness of the survivors, furthering the plan either way.

Given that, the question then becomes: which of the dead six could theoretically do this? Who here would pretend to be dead, skulk around the island for a time, and then end up killing Kanon?

I think there are a few suspects we can eliminate off the bat. Krauss and Shannon, the half-face corpses, most likely don’t fit here. As individuals, it does not track with who they are to imagine them acting this way - going by my theory, this would place Krauss as someone who played possum to survive his own assassination attempt backfiring on him. There is absolutely no way that someone like that wouldn’t have immediately come out of the shadows to expose Eva and Hideyoshi; Krauss didn’t even have it in him to keep his embezzlement bragging on the downlow. As for Shannon, the victim in this situation is Kanon. There is absolutely not a single scenario in which Shannon would kill Kanon for any possible reason - he is probably the only person in her life towards whom she feels unconditional love and trust. We’ll never know for a fact how Shannon/Sayo felt towards Kanon’s desperation to save her, but even in the most emotionally complicated interpretation, it still makes no sense for Kanon to be killed by her in retaliation, and it makes no sense for Kanon to have done anything he did in the intervening twilights had Shannon actually survived somehow.

More than that, I have always thought that Krauss and Shannon’s faces being half-destroyed is as close to cast iron proof as you can get that they are definitely, totally, for real dead, for the simple fact that a mystery story’s base assumption is that anybody with injuries that buck the trend are suspicious. Instead, I think this is more likely a case of a tree hiding itself in a forest.

Which turns our attention to the three failsiblings and Gohda. It’s not Gohda, because narratively it makes sense for Gohda to be as much of a victim of circumstance as Shannon in the end despite his bullying of her - middle manager and minimum wage worker alike are insects before the CEO. His abuse of a shred of worthless power cannot save him, therefore he must be dead. Rosa, likewise, would not work narrative-wise to survive. She had a complete character trajectory highlighting the revolving wheel of abuse within the introductory chapters. Her character was never destined for anything more than being doomed by the systems she never managed to do more than perpetuate - surviving the First Twilight would give her licence to try to escape the cycle, which would undermine the whole point of everything that came before.

So we’re left now with two candidates: Rudolf and Kyrie. Both of whom are understated characters with ulterior motives that were never fully elaborated on before they met their ends. Kyrie’s conversations with Battler hinted at the existence of a strategist’s mind with a scheme of her own separate from the gambit Eva strongarmed everyone into going along with. Rudolf, meanwhile, has the lone dangling thread of his “tonight I think I will be killed” comment, the sole thing that, as of this point in the story, we have no clue as to what he could have really meant by that. All we can glean is that the “murder” comment was most likely not a literal portent, but a fear of his that whatever secret he carried would see many people turn against him - either way, there is a Big Thing with Rudolf that never got elaborated on at any point ever.

For this reason, and a couple more, I am inclined to think that if there is a person playing dead, then that person is Rudolf. It would give us room to explore this abandoned plot thread, and it would create a full circle parallel with the comments earlier in the story about how much Rudolf acts like Kinzo - the dead father pretending to be alive, the alive son pretending to be dead. And more than any of that, more than any narrative or thematic reason for this working, is the fact that there is something associated with Rudolf that has otherwise only come up with the discussion of dead bodies.

I am, of course, talking about makeup.

There is a point made of highlighting that Rudolf wears makeup in the earlier chapters as a means of highlighting his superficiality and vanity. He is the pervert covered in glamour. He is, quite literally, bringing a false face to the family conference. Rudolf’s face, his true self and his secrets, have been concealed from the start. Makeup as an image is tied to Rudolf and used as a reinforcement of the fact that this man is not to be trusted.

The word “makeup” is also used in exactly one other context: the mutilated bodies. First we are told that all this gore has ruined the immaculate makeup on Rudolf’s face, and then further down the line we are treated to the description of blood described as "makeup” plastering the corpses. It’s a very curious word to throw into Battler’s panicked monologue, incongruent enough to stick in your mind more than most details.

Given that, it is not much of a stretch to assume we are seeing the literal masquerading as the figurative - this is the whole MO of the Witch Narrative, after all. In a sea of real blood and guts, who would notice that one person in the group was instead pained with makeup? We already know that there is an artificial substance in abundance on Rokkenjima that can be used to mimic the appearance of blood - if it can be painted on doors to create the illusion of a magic circle, then surely it can also be painted on a human face to create the illusion of a corpse.

So in this scenario, Rudolf sits pretty and painted in a sea of bodies, and slips out at the last possible moment. He then hangs around somewhere unseen for a while, before being the one to murder Kanon.

On several levels, this makes sense - whatever schemes Rudolf and/or Kyrie had cooking were derailed by the Witch Narrative, and as someone firmly cemented in the Ushiromiya hierarchy his first instinct would be to take it out on Kanon. This would serve as an explanation for the loathing and disgust conveyed by Beatrice in the boiler room scene, but it does still leave several elements unanswered.

If we assume the Beatrice stuff to be a fantastical plastering over a mundane killing, then we need to ask why Kanon would think and say the things he does if the person before him was Rudolf. Rudolf is emblematic of several kinds of power and abuse, but he is not directly a literal or metaphorical figurehead for Kanon’s oppression. Rudolf is most Kinzo-like when his face is full of makeup - it is an insincere mask with no substance to it. Rudolf is someone Kanon only sees once a year. It makes no sense for Rudolf to be someone Kanon feels the need to take a stand against like this. Rudolf doesn’t really have it in him to be a satisfying Beatrice.

Unless, of course, something changed during the time the surviving Rudolf was off-screen. There are eight whole hours he is unaccounted for. Enough time, perhaps, for someone dedicated enough to solve the epitaph and learn of whatever grim truths lie alongside the gold vault? Perhaps something that relates to his final unspoken secret? There’s still a lot of ground to cover in that area. There’s every possibility the answer lies there, that somewhere down the line we’ll find out how someone could so easily embody a Beatrice position.

That said, this is not the only option for explaining things. Beyond the idea of bodies not being dead and blood makeup and failsons turning into witches, there is something else very weird that goes on in this chapter that absolutely needs looking at, and might even take us to a stranger place than that.

Structurally, chapter 14 is strange. It is a chapter with several oddities - the appearance of the otherwise ephemeral and totally unseen Beatrice, and it is a chapter without a defined timestamp. Every other chapter in Umineko tells us when it happens and goes out of its way to make sure it doesn’t tip its hand too soon with the Beatrice enigma. So for Kanon’s death chapter to feature a lack of time and an abundance of butterflies and other witch-related happenings is more than a little suspect.

Namely because this is not even the first time this has happened in this story. There is one other chapter in the story which deprives us of a timestamp and shows us a golden butterfly, and that’s chapter 9. Which is also, curiously and alarmingly, Shannon’s final chapter.

I spent a lot of time going over chapter 9, highlighting the strangeness of its structure and what that could mean. My conclusion at the time was that we were witnessing something doctored and unreal - to borrow terminology I’ve learned since, my conclusion was that chapter 9 was a “fantastical scene”. I also spoke about how Shannon and Kanon have the curious quirk of being the only ones to ever actually see with their own eyes evidence of Beatrice’s existence, a fact which continues to hold true even in chapter 14.

Now, you could argue that this “disruption” is evidence of the metatextual ripple effect Beatrice’s manifestation is having on Umineko’s reality, but even that wouldn’t be a satisfying answer, because there is also one other time Shannon and Kanon have had structurally identical scenes, and that example was completely devoid of any hints of Beatrice or magic.

Way back at the start of the story, Shannon and Kanon have basically the same introduction scene: they awkwardly present themselves before the family, they fumble their duties and drop something, one adult berates them while another adult berates the first for being too harsh on them, Battler makes the same comparison to a waitress dropping a fork for both of them, and then they have a debrief scene afterwards that hints at deeper, more complicated feelings towards the situation.

Shannon and Kanon enter the story using the same narrative beats with a slightly different retexture. Shannon and Kanon also leave the story using the same narrative shape with a slightly different retexture.

Both walk off on their own going directly against their assigned duties - Shannon heads to the mansion instead of the guesthouse, and Kanon runs off on his own instead of sticking with Kumasawa. Both have a conflict between their “furniture” and real selves - Shannon calms the Sayo inside her to prevent causing a scene, and Kanon attempts to cast aside his furniture role in order to directly cause a scene. Both witness glowing butterflies on their own in a dark corner, and both are heavily implied to have been directly murdered by Beatrice more than any other person in the story. The only difference is that for Kanon, we see it happen, and I can’t help but wonder that had chapter 9 been a full length chapter that we wouldn’t have seen something very similar unfold with Shannon.

This is yet another heap of stuff to add to the pile of “weird parallels and symmetries between Shannon and Kanon” that keeps growing throughout the story. This still isn’t even really touching the bizarre relationship they have to Beatrice and all the ways that that’s played out - both having the ghost story in common, both occupying an odd proximity to the role of “Beatrice”, Shannon as vessel and Kanon as performer. There is a lot of this kind of stuff swirling around the two of them, and I think it really comes to a head with Kanon’s death.

After all, one way of reading this chapter is that both Shannon and Kanon end up suffering the exact same destiny. Neither escapes being furniture, and Beatrice kills them for it. Shannon buried Sayo where she shouldn’t have, and Kanon’s casting aside of being furniture came too little too late. Different textures, but the same shape. This, combined with the fact that both are notorious Witch Narrative spinners in their own ways, paints a very bizarre picture full of question marks with no clear answer.

Nobody else in Umineko shares this level of direct parallel, so it has to mean something deeply significant that Shannon and Kanon are entwined like this. I don’t have the answer yet, but I do think that this is not the end of it. I think that as soon as the metafiction stuff really comes into focus that all of this will become extremely relevant. These two are wrapped around Umineko’s core story structure in a way nobody else is, narratively weird in a way that is only otherwise seen with entities that “exist” in the story. I don’t know exactly what’s going on, but there very much is something going on that cannot and should not be ignored.

And one final thing, one final deranged detail that’s worth pointing out that threatens to possibly undermine several thousand words of this very writeup, is that the word “makeup” appears in the description of Kanon’s death. He lies there, hole in his chest, blood makeup dribbling down his body. I previously asserted that this was indicative of a surviving Rudolf taking up the mantle of being a threatening individual acting outside the group, but Kanon also has this word applied to him. A hint towards his killer, or something else?

If Kanon’s death is tainted with the word “makeup”, this means we should suspect something about it. Perhaps it is merely drawing attention to the fact that the stake to the chest is just decoration and affect - to get really tinfoil with it, Kanon managed to pull the stake from his chest before collapsing. If everything is fantastical, perhaps so too is the assertion that the stake was ever in his chest in the first place - perhaps for whatever reason his assailant did not have the time/means to set this up exactly like an epitaph murder. Or perhaps something more is going on. After all, Kanon leaves the chapter mortally wounded, but he is not actually confirmed dead. There’s wriggle room here for something else to happen.

Maybe, just maybe, what we saw here was merely another farce. Kanon taking the chance to fake his death and take himself out of the story while he still can - killing “Kanon” the furniture so the human beneath the mask can survive. Notions of Beatrice and a 19th person and an impossible murder as theatrics to cover up the fact that the tragedy at the heart of the scene is without substance. If so, the question would be whether or not this was intended by The Plan or if this is indeed Kanon acting out on his own. Has Kanon gone behind the scenes to be Genji’s “ghost” because there is no miraculously-surviving Rudolf? Are there two people in this position now? Is there any true substance to any of these theories at all?

I don’t know. I think the truth lies somewhere among all this noise, but I do think it’s starting to come into focus.

#umineko #umineko liveblog

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sneezemonster15 · 1 year

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What do you think of this?

I was oddly disappointed when I came across this.

I honestly feel sorry for anyone who couldn't see what this story was all about. They missed out on so much, they missed out on emotions and feelings that could have been their unraveling, a catharsis, something that could have led to a more accepting heart, a more sensitive mind, a sharper intuition, a keener emotional intellect.

This story is about Naruto and Sasuke and their bond. A bond that changes their current corrupt and chaotic shinobi world for the better. That they were fated and are soulmates is not a SNS headcanon, it is an intricate part of their dynamic, their portrayal. It's literally canon. They are supposed to be yin and yang, they are fire and wind, sky and earth, they are light and darkness, sun and moon, they make each other stronger emotionally and physically, they are the main act. This is all literally text.

The point of this story is that true love transcends all constructs made by humans. True love is a greater motivator than hate and revenge. True love is the solution that will bring the world together, that will finally break the cycle of revenge and hatred and bring about peace. Even if this concept has its own problems, the point is, that's what Kishi wanted to portray, at least till chapter 699.

What would even be the point of this story if Sasuke was shown to not love Naruto? Like apart from all the symbolic and literary elements, the larger narrative itself will be cancelled out if Kishi meant to show only Naruto as obsessed with Sasuke, no?

So why do these fans think this way? Denying the narrative, denying the story, denying the visual imagery, denying the characterisation of the hero and the anti hero, denying the major themes that make this manga, denying the whole point of this manga?

Projection and/or they are almost incurably dumb.

Like I don't know how many lies they have had to tell themselves to believe in their wacky theories. Their sense of comprehension is worse than a tween's. And given that a lot of them are adults, it is so embarrassing for them. Like if I were in their shoes, I would go back to school. I would burn all my degrees in the society bonfire. I would spend all my savings to relearn about the world.

Like if 700 exclusive freaking chapters of Sasuke and Naruto's bond weren't enough for them to get this story, they should maybe burn all their books. Apologies, I doubt they read. My bad.

One really doesn't need to be a media expert to get that they love each other. All they have to do is to be open minded and read the story for the story itself. Literally, one doesn't have to put any extra effort. Leave the extra effort to the bloggers and analysts who write about the literary, socio-political, narrative and visual influences and such. Just do your part. Just be the reader. Follow the story for the story's sake. That. Is. All.

But you know...fans will be fans. They find a character hot, so they would project, self insert, be dumb, deny, whine and cry, fight uselessly, embarrass themselves on public platforms, reveal themselves to be raging idiots of the first degree, etc.

Anyway.

Thesis statement of this answer : Naruto loves Sasuke and is surely obsessed with him because - Sasuke inspires it in him. Sasuke is equally obsessed with Naruto, and one would think it is subtle and it certainly is as compared to loud Naruto, but objectively, not subtle AT ALL.

At. All.

Sasuke is so in love with Naruto, is so damn crazy about this funny, cute, earnest, raw and determined little urchin, that his brain practically turns to mush when he sees him.

You know why Sasuke wanted to kill Naruto in Shippuden? He keeps saying that Naruto is his closest friend, his one and only.....friend, which is why he needs to kill him. Why?

Because Sasuke is so in love with this boy, that he self-sabotages his goals when it comes to Naruto. It has been a damn pattern with him from DAY ONE.

Naruto is Sasuke's WEAKNESS.

Sasuke trains so hard, resolves to accomplish his goals so determinedly, promises himself to be strong, but when it comes to Naruto, all of it goes right down the drain. And it is a BIG problem for Sasuke. A practical problem. Because how is he gonna accomplish his goals if Naruto keeps coming in his way, distracting him, making Sasuke's knees weak, his heart thump, his eyes tangle with Naruto's gaze, his mind completely focused on Naruto's every move?

Team seven formed. Naruto and Sasuke hadn't even spent much time together exclusively. Naruto had just been an ass to Sasuke, kissing him in public and embarrassing him (Why didn't you beat him up Sasuke? You clearly said you would lol) then tying him up, gagging him and impersonating him, but what does Sasuke do when he sees a perennially hungry Naruto? This.

Even though he very well knew that he would be disqualified and wouldn't be allowed to train as a shinobi which is required for him to get stronger so he could one day, kill Itachi.

#self-sabotage

Sasuke goes on his first important mission with the team, and ends up protecting Naruto from the bad guys like a damn romantic hero on the way to land of waves country, tries to match his pace with Naruto while blushing, worrying for him, training with him at all hours of the night while everyone else including Sakura is resting, and he is having fun at it too, asking him for help and not Sakura who is 'supposed' to have better chakra control (only because she has a very small amount of chakra as compared to Sasuke and Naruto), and then out of nowhere, freaking sacrificing his life for him. He really was totally prepared to die for this boy at age 12. For love.

#self-sabotage

His "Body moved on its own."

Naruto couldn't believe his eyes. Naruto was still oblivious as to how Sasuke felt for him before this point so he was flabbergasted at Sasuke's sacrifice. But Sasuke can't actually tell him he loves him, that would be so embarrassing for him. Lol. Hence the awkwardness later.

But Naruto now knows Sasuke really cared for him. He valued him. And so what happens?

Sasuke inspired this in him. It didn't come out of oblivion. That's not how it works.

Then comes the forest of death arc. And we see how much Sasuke and Naruto work in close partnership, how much they know each other, how their instincts are so attuned to the other, especially Sasuke. Sasuke is certainly an observant person but his knowledge of Naruto is just too accurate. Not just his appearance (and why wouldn't it? Just see how much Sasuke stares at Naruto throughout, because it's too difficult for him to escape that 'gaze' of his lol) but his mannerisms, his insecurities and weaknesses.

His laser sharp focus on Naruto is so evident. And it's not only that, he goes OUT of his way to protect Naruto.

These fans should really ask themselves if this was really needed. Naruto was being flung around by a transformed Gaara left and right before this. And Sasuke was already injured and completely out of juice. Naruto would have gotten bruised at most here. Why would Sasuke go so out of his way to cushion his fall? And why would Kishi make Pakkun point it out too? Sasuke doesn't do this type of thing for ANYONE else. Absolutely no one. So what impression does it make? How exactly do these fans read this scene? Or they just conveniently ignore whatever doesn't satisfy their agenda? That's how denial works lol.

Sasuke retrieval arc. Not only is it remarkable that the entire arc is about Naruto trying to protect Sasuke, to bring him back so that his life isn't jeopardized at the hands of Oro, but just the sheer amount of space and footage Kishi gives to vote 1. Eight freaking chapters. A world famous manga where every single panel counts, eight chapters were devoted by Kishi to make sure that their bond, the intensity of that bond, their intimacy comes out clearly. Why? Is Kishi dumb? Like these fans are? No. He wanted to make sure that absolutely no stone was left unturned for the reader to understand what their bond is really about and how freaking intense it is. The whole point why Naruto simply couldn't digest the fact that Sasuke would actually be trying to kill him, was because Sasuke, at every point, SHOWED Naruto how important he was to him.

Naruto simply couldn't compute that Sasuke would do this to him. And this is exactly why Naruto was pushed to say - Can you kill me calmly, Sasuke? in a big ass panel. So much build up man. Like goddamn. Kishi put so damn much emphasis on it because of this. Why?

Because it was contradictory behaviour. Naruto couldn't believe Sasuke would even consider killing him because of the kind of insane lengths he went to, to protect Naruto. Even at the cost of his own ambition and freaking life. Why would Sasuke do it for him? Why would Sasuke jeopardize everything that is important to him, killing Itachi and restoring his clan's honour ie, for someone he doesn't care about? Does this look one sided?

I mean if even after all this, one feels so convinced that Sasuke doesn't care about Naruto in this manga, maybe go back to reading Archie? lol.

And even after the fight, the crazy power ups, what with breaking out hidden strengths with Sharingan evolution and kyuubi chakra and kyuubi cloak and curse mark transformation, they fight and fight, their faces incredibly pained at hurting each other like this, and Sasuke manages to overpower Naruto with SO MUCH effort........all for this.

Sasuke hovering over an unconscious Naruto. This scene has so much tenderness, so much emotion, so many panels were drawn to highlight this emotion. The clouds finally breaking through to give way to a beam of light that centres on Naruto's face and then gently fades away, while Sasuke is standing atop Naruto, looking down, at his face as he lies there unconscious and injured at the hands of Sasuke. As rain patters down on Sasuke's face, he says with such anguish and emotion - Naruto, I.....

But then dramatically falls down on his knees as the aftereffects of his curse mark make themselves known and ends up right over Naruto's face, looking at his closed eyes with so much pain and longing.

What was that about? Is Kishi stupid? Are all his editors stupid? What about the publication house? So these fans are the only smart ones in the universe? That must be it. Lol.

Think about it.

Sasuke was planning to kill his closest friend at Itachi's suggestion because that would have given him access to Mangekyou Sharingan and he would have come much closer in strength to Itachi, right? Naruto was completely disabled, right at Sasuke's mercy. Sasuke had the PERFECT opening. Sasuke was one second away from gaining that power. Something he battled hard for. Like hard hard. But what did he eventually decide? He decided not to.

Why? Do fans not see the contradiction in Sasuke's behaviour? Why would Sasuke have abandoned the perfect opportunity of gaining the power required to kill Itachi, someone he was absolutely ITCHING to kill, in favor of training with Oro, a man he despises, a man he very well knows has evil intentions towards Sasuke, for THREE fucking years when he could have skipped all of that here by killing Naruto in a matter of seconds??

Why?

Because he loves Naruto. Sasuke decided if being powerful enough to kill Itachi meant that he would need to kill his most precious, his usuratonkachi, then he would rather come up with his own way to become stronger. Even if it took him waaaay more time and effort, even if he could taste the desire to kill his brother on his tongue like blood, even if it meant giving up his body to someone like Oro, he would do it if it meant Naruto would still keep living.

#self-sabotage

During the reunion, he tells Naruto that he would give his body to Oro over and over if it meant he would be able to kill Itachi. So all of THAT is acceptable to Sasuke but not killing Naruto. Sasuke is not Itachi. Sasuke is his own person, and he would make his decisions based on his feelings, he will not pander to his brother. Because he is him and he loves Naruto.

But that didn't stop him from being entirely devastated at being separated from Naruto. Crushed. Heartbroken. As he is shown having left Konoha and entering the darkness, his face, paralleled with Naruto's own as he is carried away by Kakashi, shows his true feelings about separating from his most precious person. Someone with whom he feels like family.

During their reunion, Naruto asks Sasuke why he left him alive? Why he didn't kill him off? Naruto knew Sasuke had the best opportunity to do it. But he didn't do it. Naruto knew very well that Sasuke didn't kill him for the same reason he protected Naruto all those other times. Because Sasuke really cared for him, he valued Naruto.

Sasuke deflects. He tells him he doesn't need to explain it to him. Naruto looks skeptical. Then he says he left him alive on a whim. And of course Naruto doesn't believe him. Naruto knows Sasuke is lying. Is Sasuke a person who would do things on a Whim? Is that how he is characterized in the manga? What other thing did he do on a whim? Sasuke says that even Oro was not powerful enough to take on Itachi, let alone himself. He could have made things so much easier for himself if he had killed Naruto and gotten MS, but no. If Naruto didn't mean so much to him, what was stopping him to kill Naruto? Even when the stakes were so damn high?

When Naruto asks him why he let him live during the reunion, Sasuke is actually struggling to answer him. He feels vulnerable. Look at his face when he says that emotions weaken a person, causes confusion. He knows this from experience. Because he couldn't kill Naruto. He again sabotaged his own objective, like always, because he just cannot bear to have Naruto hurt. He just cannot. Someone who couldn't even let Naruto be freaking bruised by a tree trunk, who cannot even let Naruto go hungry for a mere few hours even at the cost of his own freaking disqualification, can he kill Naruto so easily? Heh. The narrative is doing its work. Sasuke is a simp for Naruto man. Even if Sasuke isn't able to say what he feels due to self preservation and his own tsundereness, the reader knows the truth. How? Because we aren't blind or stupid. We know how to read. We enjoy stories and storytelling.

The crux of it all was that Sasuke wasn't able to kill Naruto even though it would have had been really really advantageous for him in reaching his goal. But. At what cost? By killing Naruto? No way in hell. Heh.

Honestly, Sasuke says everything himself. No one has to look anywhere else. He knows Naruto is his weakness. He simply cannot help himself when it comes to Naruto. That's why he says he needs to cut him off in vote 2. As long as Naruto is alive, and keeps getting in Sasuke's way, Sasuke would never be able to help himself. Everytime Naruto comes along, Sasuke's objectives and goals take a backseat, in fact, go right out the window. Sasuke is defined by love, led by love, motivated by it, inspired by it. Itachi taught him how to hate. But Naruto was the one who caught his nerve, who reached his heart, who made him warm and fuzzy, who taught him to love, to accept love, to let himself be loved. By Naruto.

Sasuke says he will be the darkness, and live on by eating the ashes. He needs to be the darkness to be the true hokage, that's his goal. But how can he be the darkness if Naruto, the light incarnate, fills him with the light of his love? With his warmth and care and affection?

Sasuke's actions towards Naruto are often contradictory. During the reunion, Naruto is urged by Kurama to draw on his power, but Naruto resists and then Sasuke (who just couldn't stop staring at him throughfuckingout) enters his mind space and makes the kyuubi retreat. Why should it matter to him? Why should he even feel the need to be there? He already knows that Naruto has a special power. So he glided down like an angel, hugged Naruto (which he really really didn't need to do), whispered in his ears (why are you here Naruto when you could be out there training huh? huh?), and then was so damn focused on him that Yamato found the opening to attack Sasuke even though Sasuke is a person thoroughly anal with being on guard all the time?

#self-sabotage

And I only mention this because Sasuke's character is already established as someone who is not a touchy feely guy. When a character does something out of character, it registers itself in the reader's mind. You simply cannot deny it. Kishi put so much effort in writing and drawing him, do these fans think all this comes out of oblivion? No thought, no idea behind it? So if Sasuke is made to do something out of character, there must be some reason for it, no? Except when it comes to Naruto, it is in character for Sasuke to do something he doesn't rationally intend to. Because love is not rational.

Sasuke was already reminded by Sai of Naruto. Sasuke is told that Naruto is still looking for him. And then Sai proceeds to disparage Naruto, and how does Sasuke react? He genjutsues his ass. Lol. Don't you think it is a disproportionate action for Sasuke to do this if he didn't care about Naruto?

Like when fans are used to big actions, big gestures and big reactions, which are typical of shounen, they often miss out on more subtle actions and reactions. But just because they don't see them doesn't mean they aren't there. I am sorry (not) but SNS fans cannot be blamed for other fans' ignorance and incompetence at media comprehension.

This might be subtle by shounen standards but it's not that subtle. These fans would certainly benefit from watching a wider variety of media. Learning more about how narrative and visual language works. If they can't see that Naruto and Shippuden are a love story, it's a problem, for them. Because what a waste of their time and energy.

Sasuke looks at the Great Naruto bridge and smiles fondly. Why do you think Kishi put this panel here? Why was it needed? What purpose does it serve? Every panel counts right? When Sasuke is told of Naruto defeating Pein, he smiles like he is proud of Naruto. Why? What was even the need to do that? If Kishi means to tell the audience that Sasuke wants to kill Naruto because he hates him or doesn't care, why the hell would he put these panels there so strategically that give exactly the opposite impression to the viewer, and the impression that they give is completely consistent with how Sasuke acts with him in part one? I seriously cannot fathom the amounts of denial these fans must need in order to simply erase and sweep these multiple moments, scenes and dialogues under the rug.

What is even the point of reading this manga? And what exactly makes them so righteous about it too that they have the audacity of criticising SNS fandom for shipping the boys? Who told them they could do it? Who the hell are these people to say shit like this? Who told them they had the qualification? Because the comprehension that they show indicates they should still be reading nursery rhymes. Like learn how narrative works, learn how imagery works, learn how a scene works, learn how mise en scene works, learn what an arc is, learn how characterization works, learn how literary tools and tricks work and THEN talk about it if you are so sure. But hell, if they actually cared to learn all that, they wouldn't be saying this shit. Hell, don't do any of it, just be honest with yourself. That is enough. But no. They are way too precious for that. Learning is beneath them. Lol.

Ignorance breeds more ignorance.

Sasuke saves Naruto during the war arc over and over again, even when it wasn't needed or doing it with so many extra measures, they were unnecessary, so much so that even Naruto is taken aback by it. Why? What impression does it give to the reader? Isn't it reminiscent of part one, when Sasuke saved Naruto from the evil tree trunk? Because he is just so damn protective of his precious boyfriend, his one and only........friend. Lol. This is how narrative works man, psychological and emotional manipulation. That's what storytelling is all about, and talented writers/storytellers/creators understand the concept of perception very well. Perception of text, visuals and sound effects.

Think of the story as a patchwork rug that is patched with complementary coloured pieces of fabric stitched with connecting threads that bring out the brilliance of the rug. An audio-visual story or a film works the same way, where the visuals/scenes are thoughtfully edited and joined together with strategically placed complementary visual effects, text and sound effects to bring out the messaging and impact that the storyteller wants to convey to the reader. The talented a writer/creator is, the smoother and believable the narrative is, the more perceptive he is, the more his intent comes out and makes itself known to the reader, the greater its impact on the reader.

Kishi wrote them as the main act. That is the truth. Everything is intentional.

During vote 2, Sasuke is so damn emotional fighting with Naruto. He climbs on his lap and punches him senseless, and Naruto takes it. It's obviously a parallel to vote one when Naruto climbs on Sasuke's lap and punches him senseless and Sasuke takes it. Does this look like a normal fight? Where else do players fight like this in the manga? Any other example?

No.

It's an emotional fight. They are not fighting for political reasons or to prove a point. The fight is emotional. Just like vote 1. Both are nerve wracking. Emotional overload. Mind short circuits. Lol. Here are two characters who are experiencing them and I can't even read about it without curling on my bed and holding my torso tight because it's just too much man. And I am not easily affected. I have seen all sorts of melodrama and I thought I was immune. Fortified. But damn Kishimoto, he just wrecked me. Sigh.

This sort of reaction doesn't come out of oblivion. Fans who say shit like the one in this ask, have no idea how much effort and thought and emotion it takes to write something like this.

Sasuke didn't show this type of emotion even when he was battling Itachi. He was composed and in control. But with Naruto, he loses it. Why? Because he is doing something he doesn't want to. Not in the heart of his hearts.

Killing Naruto is a requirement for him because for him, Naruto has become an emotional liability. He loves Naruto despite his better judgment. He loses all perspective when he is with Naruto. No matter how strong his convictions are, Naruto makes his heart flutter. His resolve weakens. That is why he left Konoha in the first place. He says to Naruto - Did I get stronger playing around with you?

Hatred towards Itachi was his motivation to get strong enough to kill him. But if Naruto kept making him fall in love more and more, how would he kill Itachi?

The whole reason Orochimaru separated them was because Naruto was changing Sasuke, meaning, he was healing Sasuke.

Naruto and only Naruto, had the power to do that. If Sasuke had completely given over to his feelings for Naruto, no way he would have been able to carry on his revenge plans. A heart filled with love cannot hate. Unless that love is taken away forcefully, then the love transforms into hate.

Naruto tells him he simply won't let him be alone. Naruto understands why Sasuke wanted to kill him. To be alone. To be devoid of love. Love would have been a hindrance to his goals. But it would have meant unending loneliness for Sasuke. Darkness. Pain. Misery.

And Naruto wouldn't have it. No way siree bob. Not on his watch. Naruto loves Sasuke. Beyond comprehension. Just like Sasuke loves Naruto. He simply WON'T let Sasuke be alone because Naruto understands what it means to be lonely. That was the point of their intersection in the first place. Naruto won't let Sasuke be alone because he cares for Sasuke's well being. If Naruto is obsessively in love with Sasuke, and he IS, and proudly too, it's because Sasuke simply won't be swayed with anything less. Naruto had to have immense amounts of love for Sasuke to counter the immense hate in Sasuke. If you want to call it obsession, fine. But the more appropriate term is - Devotion. Something that Kishimoto himself uses when he makes Yashamaru explain love to Gaara. It's called context building.

Sakura? Can she even compare? With Naruto? Bah. She was prepared to kill him in kage arc when Naruto was preparing to lay down his life for him shinjuu style.

She made every confession to Sasuke about herself. Naruto made it about Sasuke. If it weren't the case, Sasuke wouldn't have listened to him in the kage arc. Sasuke was bent on killing Sakura and Kakashi, drunk on power and grief, but he calms down when Naruto confesses to him. And accepts Naruto's proposal. Are these fans telling me Sasuke is shallow and stupid enough to fall for it if he didn't care? Will they not give Sasuke the agency to make the right decision for himself? What he wants to do? Will these fans take away from his intelligence by saying shit that goes against his characterisation and arc development? So Kishi is wrong and these fans are right about him? Lol. The levels of delusions.

When Naruto tells Sasuke that he hurts when Sasuke does, that he hurts so much, he cannot stand it, look at Sasuke. Why would he be so taken aback? Why? Why is he so affected if he didn't care for Naruto? When Sasuke asks him why he goes to such lengths to save Sasuke, Naruto tries to distract him from it and Sasuke gets triggered. Is Sasuke really a person who would get triggered like this if he didn't feel for Naruto? Sasuke asks Naruto with such delicacy and hesitance - But what does friend mean to you? Why does he want to know? How does it matter to him if he didn't care?

Why would Kishi write this stuff in this conclusive chapter? Is it meaningless? Does it not say anything about Sasuke's character? Like I know people twist it and twist it some more, but really, the simplest explanation is always the right one. It might not be as direct, but if you really gather all the data and compute it without prejudice, you can and definitely will see it for yourself. Storytelling can be layered you know. Why be as bad as those dudebros? Even dudebros call him Susgay. Because even if they cannot comprehend much more than that, they can feel it. Why? Because that's how Kishi wrote him. That's how storytelling works.

Dang, when Naruto assures him of his love for Sasuke and his trust in him, Sasuke cries. Fucking cries man. Is Sasuke a person who would emote meaninglessly? The only other person who affects him enough to make him cry is Itachi. Are these fans saying that Itachi meant nothing to Sasuke?

Notice how at peace he looks when he says - I have lost..

Why should he feel at peace? Why? Because he finally accepts love. He is convinced of it. Naruto reminded him of his bonds with his family, something he always wanted, something he missed deeply when they had gone. But now, he can let himself feel it again.

Kishi had already thought of this ending back in 2009, or even before. Not a retcon. Regardless, if these fans had any sense, they could tell it from the story itself.

In conclusively significant chapter 698, in Sasuke's monologue, it is finally revealed that Sasuke, after all that he did to and with Naruto, had always had an eye on Naruto. He had had always felt weak for him. He felt warm and fuzzy. He resonated with Naruto's loneliness. Every little thing that he did for Naruto, all his sacrifices even when the audience couldn't really find commensurate with their dynamic back then in part one, were revealed to be Sasuke's acts of love for Naruto. Because this boy had been loving him since then, since they were eight years old, even when Naruto had no clue. He didn't ask for anything back, nothing in return, he just LOVED. As he knew how to. Not with big declarations of love and guilting the other party, like Sakura or Hinata for Naruto, but with actions and genuine heartfelt emotions. Because that's what unconditional, genuine, devotional, true love is all about. Isn't it? Naruto's zeal, spirit and desire to connect made him think about his bonds with his family, the centre of his emotional core. And it grew more and more as they trained together and fought together being part of the same team. Naruto had reached the core of his heart when Naruto was not even aware of it. Naruto's own acts of love came much later. But Sasuke's were just there, even when the audience couldn't clock it out. This is how Kishi wrote Sasuke. THIS is Sasuke's character. His stans think they really get Sasuke, think he should be a single man and get rid of annoying Naruto. They DON'T get him AT ALL. Sasuke is about love, that he had been giving Naruto unconditionally all this time. Without asking for any thing in return. Because that's who Sasuke is, because that's how strong and selfless his character is. Because he is a fucking legend of a person. He learnt something at age 8 that takes people a lifetime to learn, despite all the odds he faced. Despite Itachi's every attempt at filling him with hate, Sasuke knew how to love. Sasuke IS LOVE.

If these fans don't wanna see it, it's one thing. But don't come for the SNS fandom. This story is a love story. About them. There are more than a dozen literary romantic references, drawn from Asian media and symbology, very evident to people who know about it already. So all of that is wrong and these fans are right who can't even fucking read right? Do I give them a badge of honour? Yep, bravo. Lol.

I have done a lot of cringey shit in my life, but fortunately for me, there's no evidence left except in my own memories. Sad thing is these fans will potentially grow up one day and see it all differently. And mark my words, they will cringely cringe at their cringeworthy behaviour and takes. Which is all DOCUMENTED for everyone to see. Lol. Nothing much they can do about it. But they can always learn. To be better.

Conclusion -

If Naruto is, as they say, obsessed with Sasuke, it's because he learnt from the best of the best. Sasuke. 😏

#well that went on #but you must have gotten used to it by now #this is all Kishi's fault anyway #i am just writing about it #naruto #sasuke #narusasu #sasunaru #uzumaki naruto #uchiha sasuke #naruto meta #sns

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bluedalahorse · 2 days

Text

on flaws as opportunities and organizing the beef

I’m in the place now where I have enough distance from Young Royals season 3 to think about what felt flawed about it for me, and it led me to some interesting revelations about how I understand the characters and the story.

And to be clear: this does not mean I didn’t love season 3 with every fiber of my being, or that I think it sucks forever. Even a great production has flaws. The wonderful thing about being in fandom is that we love our shows deeply but also like to pick them apart, and in picking them apart we come up with ideas for future fics and fix its and character studies. Writing flaws are always an opportunity.

Anyway…

Thesis statement: Wilhelm and Simon don’t actually have the same beef with August, and the show should recognize that.

Or, to put it more formally, August causes them different problems that need to be addressed differently. I think that by acknowledging that more directly, and leaning into the discomfort that creates between Wille and Simon as a couple, the writers could have cleaned up some of the Wilmon-related messiness I saw in season 3 and have been mulling over for a while.

Caveat: I still need to do a full, formal rewatch of the third season. But I’ve rewatched here and there these are my preliminary thoughts.

To start, let’s recap Wille and Simon’s conflicts with August in season 1. For Simon, August is a bully and a gatekeeper when it comes to the world of Hillerska. He makes fun of Simon for being “socialist” and puts Simon in a position where he’s bringing in alcohol and then drugs for richer students’ recreation. August doesn’t pay Simon back for the alcohol the first time, which also shows a profound lack of awareness of Simon’s financial situation. Despite bullying Simon, there are times in August’s mind that he probably thinks he’s done Simon a favor. I do think, as flawed as he is about it and as much as he’s making weird speeches and doing aggressive forehead kisses, August assumes he’s really helped Simon out by getting him on the rowing team. But from Simon’s point of view this is all just more gatekeeping. Simon sees Hillerska as his ticket out of Bjärstad, and he wants to succeed in his merits as a student and a musician. But the way August treats him reminds him that his talent matters less than how many favors he can do rich boys. It also reminds him that he’s expendable to Hillerska students—August is absolutely ready to let Simon take the fall for the drugs when he feels it threatens his position.

Wille, meanwhile, is not excluded or gatekept by August but rather included more than he wants to be. Prior to the release of the video, Wille mostly finds August’s “come here and let me play your surrogate big brother” antics annoying. The debate over whether to let Simon or Alexander take the fall for the drugs is something that increases Wille’s ire toward August and makes it more serious, enough that we see Wille out August for his money troubles. But Wille also entrenches himself further in the system as a result of their argument—he still uses Alexander as a scapegoat, and he offers to pay August’s boarding fees afterward as an attempt to restore the peace between them. Their relationship isn’t seriously fractured until August releases the video. This harms Wille in the sense that it sets Wille up to deny his authentic self and makes it hard for him to engage in intimacy without trauma getting in the way. In essence, it puts Wille in a similar position of trauma that August was put in when the Erik and the third years initiated him. (Much much much more publicly, yes, but let’s note that transfer of trauma, because YR is about cycles.)

The video also throws Wilhelm into a space where he starts to doubt his connection with Erik, because Erik told Wilhelm he could trust August. At the end of 3.4, Wille tells August that Erik would hate what he did, but I suspect he’s been wrestling with the uncertainty over whether Erik would really accept him and Simon for a long time. I don’t know if Wille really trusts Erik even though he says he does. In my opinion, it’s August’s release of the video that first brings this sense of doubt about Erik into Wille’s mind, and for three seasons we’re watching him slow burn toward actually voicing that doubt and grappling with it.

I think it’s tempting to believe that the trauma of the video release unites Wilhelm and Simon against August, and makes them feel the same sense of pain and loss, but ultimately I don’t know if that’s true. I’m not sure I see Wille and Simon as two boys in love against the world, at least not in a way that isn’t complicated. For Wille, the video affects his ability to express himself authentically and makes him doubt his relationships with his family. For Simon, the scandal of the video will now forever follow him when he wants to break free of Bjärstad and become recognized for his own merits. These are different harms from the same event that need to be dealt with differently.

One of Wille’s flaws is that he doesn’t fully realize that. I think he tends to center himself without realizing it, and sees the harm that happens to Simon as an extension of harm to himself. I actually think this is pretty interesting, and pretty in line with how Wille would have been raised as a prince. We see Kristina telling him that everything he does reflects on her and the family, so it’s natural that Wille might see a threat against Simon as a threat to himself without really thinking through how they’re going to be impacted differently. And the “prince” as a literary archetype has always been somewhat rooted in the “rescue” of others.

I explained this to @heliza24 and she said something really smart, which is, “the thing that necessarily gets lost when you muddy that is how much Wilhelm’s violations of Simon resemble August’s violations of Wilhelm.” And she’s right. I’d been trying to find a way to say that some of Wille’s actions in s3 remind me of August’s more toxic traits, and that part of Wille’s hamartia in s3 is he can’t see the ways he’s behaving similarly to August even as he shuts August out. When August releases the video, it puts Wille in a position where the royal court and Kristina are forcing him to conform more-more-more, and to hide his authentic voice from the world. Wille in turn inflicts that on Simon, acting as the royal court’s mouthpiece when they want Simon’s songs or May Day pictures deleted. We see Simon worn down to the point where he’s almost fading away. It’s actually pretty upsetting.

To that end: I also can’t help draw parallels between Wilhelm’s insistence on public gestures of affection with Simon and the way August and Felice walk arm in arm after they get together, the way he clearly wants to be seen with her. I also look at the way Wille craves Simon’s constant emotional support—especially on the night of his birthday—and see August reaching out to Sara as his emotional support lifeline.

Now, for what it’s worth, I still don’t see Wille as this awful, irredeemable person. (I don’t see August as this irredeemable person either, for that matter, and this is part of why I see Wille and August’s healing as intertwined and interdependent.) But I do think one place that season 3 fell flat for me was in the way Wille never got to recognize that his own issues with August and Simon’s issues with August weren’t exactly alike. And for Wille to recognize that some of the things he’s trying to do to heal aren’t equally healing for Simon. (Seriously, I almost tore my hair out when Wille joined the choir. It wasn’t a romantic gesture to me—I found it creepy! Let Simon have one space to himself!)

It probably would have helped to have one scene where Simon articulates that to Wille, and really point it out. I get it if we don’t have time for Simon and August to resolve their shit in one season, and since Wille is the protagonist, he and August resolving their shit is going to take precedence. But when Wille and August are still at odds in the first part of the season, I do feel this vibe where like, Wille assumes he’s the avenger for wrong done to both him and Simon. And I kind of wanted to see that reckless avenger vibe get addressed.

@heliza24 probably describes this better than I do, but season three does have a habit of obscuring Simon’s agency from the audience, mostly so the writers can manipulate the audience’s reactions to Wilhelm and Simon, and especially so they can keep us in the dark about the fate of the Wilmon relationship during the breakup cliffhanger between episodes 5 and 6. I don’t know if this was the greatest choice, to dangle the cliffhanger over our heads, because it ends up moving a lot of Wille’s development into the last 10-15 minutes of the season and creates an issue in pacing and character arc. I wonder if they could have spaced his character arc out a little more and infused the tension into other moments and ideas. I think that could have been more satisfying.

Incidentally, this is a season 3 writing problem that’s foreshadowed in season 2 with the way Felice and Wille’s friendship is written. Felice essentially becomes Wille’s confidant as Wille attempts revenge on August. This makes sense, as Felice has her own beef with August based on how awfully he treated her in their relationship, and she’s friends with Wille, so it’s a natural alliance. But once again, it’s different beef, impacted by Felice moving through the world as a Black girl with a rich white mom, and not a white boy prince, and Felice never gets a chance to say so. Maybe it shouldn’t matter, but it does matter because season 2 episode 3 ends with… Wille kissing Felice just to feel something!!! And at the beginning of episode 4 everyone’s talking about what happened and what might be a new relationship between Wille and Felice!!! Gosh does that remind anyone of Felice’s predicament in the middle of season 1? It sure does remind the random girl in the choir, who says Felice only dates bluebloods!

The thing is, I wish Felice had been able to make that comparison more explicitly in her conversations with Wilhelm. Things obviously don’t get as bad with Wilhelm as they do with August, and Wille and Felice talk things out. But Felice doesn’t get to express herself about that as much as I wanted her to, and we don’t get much of a sense as to whether or not this changes Felice’s views of Wille’s revenge plot. She forgives him pretty quickly, and I don’t know if she should have. Just a little more careful planning on the writers’ parts could have given Felice the agency she needed in season 2.

Anyway! Let’s talk about stakes. The stakes for Wilhelm in season 3 are that he’ll become August—or more accurately, that he’ll construct an armored facade like August has constructed to get through life, and that he’ll hurt other people in the process. (This is true for Wille even with him being queer, I think. Wille may be queer, but his whiteness and wealth and power and literal hired staff of PR-minded humans are going to frame how the rest of the world responds to that queerness.) Whereas for Simon, Sara, and Felice the danger is that, in order to maintain their place in the upper class system, they’ll become dependent on someone like future August or future Wilhelm, who has a lot of power and spends most of their life in armored facade mode.

Wilhelm and August reconciling is still important, because when they recognize one another’s humanity, they can actually be vulnerable with one another the way they need to be, and take that armor off. And I think by forging that relationship with one another, they have a space to really question the values they are raised with and act better to loved ones in the future. But we’re really just witnessing the first step. And there’s a lot more steps they need to take with one another, and with the other people in their lives.

What can I learn from this as a fan and writer?

Thinking about this actually helped me understand a point of view in fandom that I’ve always disagreed with. I still disagree with it, but I think I understand it better now. Periodically I’ll encounter points of view where August is seen as the worst kind of evil, the sort of person where you unite with each other to take him down once and for all. You know… Avengers Assemble! Or something. In some fan’s minds, he’s the kind of guy everyone at Hillerska should turn against at once and ultimately reject for the sake of narrative catharsis. A symbol of the corrupt system and nothing more.

And I never really saw August that way. He can be awful and annoying at times, and extremely harmful at other times. He often makes things much worse for our other main characters a lot of the time. Often times he is the most direct representative of the system that’s causing them problems. On the other hand, he’s also capable of really, truly caring about people and community, as much as he gets in his own way about it. We also know a greater extent of his trauma now and how it affects him. All in all he seems as human and as in need of liberation as all the other characters of Young Royals. It makes sense that he’s the one of five who hasn’t left behind the system yet, but I feel like one day he can maybe get there. I feel like those are the writers’ intentions, and the show’s intentions overall. Certainly this is also the version of August that Malte’s acting reflects.

I think I also understand now why I don’t always see eye to eye with others about Wille. I adore Wille, but I think sometimes the assertion others make that “Wille has one brain cell and it’s being in love with Simon” feels threatening to me rather than adorable. Wille is really really fascinating to me in that falling in love nudges him to question things about his position, but it doesn’t erase his relationship to his privilege entirely, and he can be pretty flawed in how he understands his power and how it plays out in a relationship. I think for others, they might see Wille as protective and caring toward Simon. Whereas I see him (and prefer to see him portrayed) as intending to be protective but definitely at times overstepping and putting Simon in a more negative place than before. I think part of this is caused by a writing problem in seasons 2 and 3. We see the negative impact the relationship can have on Simon—look it absolutely breaks my heart when Ayub mentions how Simon deleting his social media will make him sad—but I don’t know if Simon gets as much of a chance to articulate that to Wille or even to the audience as I want him to. And I also see Simon and Wille’s very different conflicts with August as part of that.

Moving forward… these flaws in seasons 2 and 3 don’t ruin my love of the show. They aren’t me saying the show is bad. They’re disappointing, because Young Royals is so good in so many ways that it sucks when it does let us down. But basically everything I like has a flaw one way or another, because literally no work is perfect. And right now I’d rather look at the flaws in YR and say, this is something I can learn from and play with in fanfic.

(And sometimes there are times when tumblr wants to explain all the flaws of a show away and idealize it and I wonder… can we not do that? Because sometimes claiming a show is perfect and flawless limits discussion and creativity. I get just as frustrated with people idealizing the Wilmon pairing and putting it on a moral pedestal, which has ultimately led to me blocking the tag from my dash. I like them a lot more when I think about them as complex teenage humans who fuck up a lot and not a godlike ideal of romance. I love them, your honor! But I think I need to love them independent of the tag.)

As for where this goes in fanfic, I think this once again leaves things open for fans to explore. Once again, I think there’s a whole interesting story to be explored in terms of how August and Simon work through their shit, and how that really has to happen in a space that’s in part independent of Wille. A shared relationship with Wilhelm might be the catalyst for why they’re working through their shit, but some of what’s going to happen has to happen without him there. (For what it’s worth, I think we see flashes of Simon and August beginning to understand one another throughout the series—Simon is running some really interesting mental calculus when he realizes August has an eating disorder, shout out to Omar’s acting there—but those threads always get dropped or interrupted. It’s infinitely frustrating to me as someone who likes both characters and wanted to see them talk honestly for once but didn’t quite get that.)

I also think this gives me interesting questions about where Wille and Simon’s relationship could go next in fanfic. Independent of the monarchy, I think Wille is still going to have to work through his instinct to be an angry avenger or reckless rescuer at times, and the part where he assumes he and Simon are harmed in the same way by the same things. Even in a world where Wille doesn’t have a title, he’ll still have wealth and white privilege that Simon doesn’t. And I don’t think that has to get in the way of their future happiness, but watching them navigate through that is something that draws me into a story idea.

So, you know. This has been an update on my fannish desires. At least, my fannish desires that do not involve the rest of the YR characters, various ships on Heartbreak High, and Interview with the Vampire season 2 finally airing today. There’s a lot going on in this brain and none of it is the work I need to get done.

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