The idea that Tommy, a closeted gay man who was desperately trying to fit in in a hyper macho and discriminatory environment, isn't allowed to have any growth from when he was over compensating and was a dick to Chim really pisses me off. He literally had canonical growth to the point he was going for drinks with Chim and Hen in Bobby Begins Again and they got him a fancy leaving cake.
Why isn't he allowed to grow and be better? Because he's white? Because he "gets in the way of buddie"? Because no one is allowed to say and change at all over a decade?
Like this is a queer fandom and I'd bet a lot of money that a ton of people in this fandom said and did things they weren't proud of when they were younger, especially before they came out so they could try and hide it.
I know this is quite a young fandom too but like, it was literally only a decade ago when "gay" was an insult at school and doing anything that could be get you accused of being gay was fucking social suicide. You guys have no idea how lucky you are that people at least get called out for that shit now cause they didn't when I was a kid. I would have done almost anything to just be ignored, let alone accepted, rather than being openly bisexual.
So yeah, I think Tommy is allowed to fucking change as a person because Bobby, Chim and Hen came into his life and allowed him to stop repressing. Stop being such fucking assholes. You aren't any better than him, and frankly the way some of you behave makes the way Tommy acted when he was first in the show look like a fucking saint. Touch some grass.
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You know I think there is something interesting to say in terms of where the fuck WxS is going because like
I think WxS is the only unit where the end goal or overall progression is probably the most unknown out of all of them ???
MMJ and VBS are extremely obvious, they both have the most explicit goals that are said to us in a straightforward way
25-ji, in the end we know the main goal at the end will be for all of the characters to go over their hurdles with Mafuyu finally being able to find herself and move forward
Leo/need is probably the closest in terms of vagueness but we know the end goal is clear for them to grow as a band, probably ending in a big concert or something along those lines
But with WxS...like I guess the closest thing I can see to an end goal is all of WxS preparing a show together with everyone playing their part but that definitely doesn't feel like something you'd build up for an entire arc and definitely not something that feels fitting after the emotional turmoil that was the disbandement arc ???
In terms of physical achievements as well they literally revived an entire parc through one gigantic show, so it just comes into question what they can do now.
Then you look at their first few event for this arc considering usually the first event kinda set up what will be planned for the future but it's...weird.
Yeah, Tsukasa and Rui's events set up they're inexperienced and how they will grow in the future but also there is this weird feeling of something feeling off ?
The plays/scripts all are strangely depressing, the play in Tsukasa's event being about a failed writer planning to drown himself (which I believe is one of the only undeniable explicit description of suicide ever in the game?????) and the second being someone whose given up on life meeting their estranged sister only for her to become ill.
We even have Emu's side story in Rui's event where they watched the movie Rin was watching during the event made by the same producer and Emu herself note how depressing the story is (meanwhile the main character of the movie clearly parallels Rui)
We don't see the conclusion of these in-game stories as well, lingering on their worst moment never really seeing the presumably happy conclusion.
THEN we also have Emukasa fes which....again strangely different in tone from what you'd expect a WxS fes card, they're not really all that conclusive either. Tsukasa never aknowledges how he relates to the brother in the story and Emu doesn't really get a conclusion on her grief.
Then we also have Rui's entire fuckign event with the cards and his cyberpunk deadbo-YOU SEE WHAT IM SAYING
The closest we fucking have to knowing what WxS's fucking endgoal towards the story is, is fucking WL which....TELLS US NOTHING
At least with VBS we know that they're goal is to go even further beyond and conquer the whole world, that is a developpement of their goal.
What I'm saying is I don't know what the fuck colorpalet is cooking wiht WxS but I feel like i'm a fucking twilight zone reading the way they're writing WxS now because I can't be the only one feeling insane at how weird all of this is
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I can't stop thinking of Kyanako's Order of Attack au... there's something so moving to me about how things getting so much worse could be what finally causes Amane to get better -- seeing Fuuta dying may be the final straw of getting her to rethink her rejection of medicine. Been a while since I've attempted something whump-y, this was fun to work with.
Tw for mentions/contemplation of death. I don't go into detail about the cult but the doctrines are implied through it all.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying.
When he imagined his own death, he always pictured it as something dramatic and fast. Action heroes going out in a show of explosions and gunfire. Fantasy characters meeting the shining end of a blade. Even when he accepted his place in Milgram, it filled his mind with images of gallows and electric chairs.
Whatever this slow, lengthy fever was, it was pissing him off.
He’d lost all sense of time. He could no longer tell which hour the prison bells were marking -- morning and night blended together. Dreaming and waking blended together. His head injury and broken leg and broken bones blended together. It was all just pain at the end of the day. He had nonstop visitors that kept him awake and asked him too many questions and prodded his injuries and made his head spin. Somehow, he was simultaneously alone every time he rolled over to talk to someone. Painfully, suffocatingly alone.
If Kotoko was going to kill him with those ridiculous emo boots of hers, she should have just done it. He was losing his mind here: devoid of all energy, suffering through broken bones and a cracked head, and boiling in an increasingly fiery fever. Maybe that was the reason he stopped commenting when he watched Amane pocket the medicine Shidou had left him. Maybe that was why he’d stopped following Shidou’s instructions himself. Even after losing an eye and taking a beating herself, Amane always looked at peace. He was tired of dealing with all of this. He wanted a bit of that peace.
Regardless of why, it was working. His fever had quickly gone from the biggest pain in his ass to the very thing that dulled his racing thoughts.
He awoke suddenly, or maybe he’d already been awake. He couldn’t feel anything in his limbs. There was only a breathless heat around him. He raised himself into a sitting position, looking for a drink. Moving his head felt like one of those glitching computer windows that leaves a trail of copies behind it. The room swam around him. His eyes moved absently around him.
Fuuta picked up the glass that someone had left him. His fingers were clumsy, and it immediately went crashing to the ground. He hardly heard the noise as it broke apart on the concrete below.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed. He’d just go get a drink himself. Shidou told him not to get up without help. But what did he know? Thinking of the man ordering him around only drove Fuuta to step out of bed even quicker. He cried out, pain shooting through his leg. That was right, it was broken…
Fuuta looked down, finding himself on the ground. It was so hot. Maybe this is what she felt, he thought numbly. Was it this slow for her too? Probably not. She had no regrets to fill the time like he did. The heroes got quick, beautiful deaths, and it was the villains who had to suffer the long ones.
He lifted his right palm from where it had caught his fall. The shattered glass on the floor had cut into it. Shattered glass? What had broken? He stared blankly at the blood dripping down.
He didn’t have the strength to raise himself up. He was burning. Why was he on the ground? Was he bleeding? He could barely breathe. What was he doing here, anyway? He just wanted to curl up and sleep. He was so weak... just to lie down... he wouldn't have the strength to get back up again. Was that such a bad thing...?
A voice caught his attention. His eyes struggled to focus on the figure who’d come running into the cell. He couldn’t understand a word of what she was saying, but he was happy when she pressed her cool little hands against his forehead.
He allowed her to prop him up next to the bed. She held onto his hand, squeezing it tight. Why was she holding it like that? That hand was bleeding. When did that happen?
Her arms wrapped tightly around him. He wanted to shove her away -- it was too hot -- but couldn’t. In his ear, he could make out her words. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Please, Fuuta. Don’t leave me alone. I’m so sorry...”
As she pulled back, he recognized Amane. Her uninjured eye was filled with tears. Was she upset? He thought he’d been making her happy. He wanted to keep making her happy. He’d never made anyone happy before.
He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out. They all scrambled up in his mouth. He felt the cell swirling around him.
Amane raised her voice. She looked desperately upwards. “This can’t be --! This isn’t right!”
Fuuta looked up at the ceiling. There was nothing there.
“I can’t do this anymore.”
She continued talking. Fuuta was too busy studying the ceiling. She was shouting. Or maybe crying. Fuuta didn’t like that she was so upset. Huh, had there been someone there? He surveyed the empty cell. What was he doing on the ground?
He looked down at his hand. The sheet from his bed had been pulled down and wrapped hastily around it. Why? His eyes felt sticky as he blinked. Everything hurt. It was so hot. What was going on? He was so angry. He was so scared. He wanted to cry. Why was he here? Why couldn’t he just hurry up and die already?
The next time she entered, Fuuta recognized Amane instantly. Her one hand pointed to him, the other held onto someone else. The second figure hurried over to him.
Fuuta was not a big fan of dying. Shidou reassured him he wouldn’t.
—
“You’re wearing the eyepatch,” Fuuta observed.
He was playing a dangerous game, drawing attention to it like that. He was too exhausted, and his curiosity won out over his better judgment. If Amane was going to explode with one of her typical speeches, he’d just let her.
She didn’t.
Amane’s hand drifted up to her eye. It had been hastily covered before, but now it was cleaned and wrapped in professional-grade materials. She simply said, “Kajiyama Fuuta. How do you feel?”
“Like shit.”
“But--”
“-- But I’m better, yeah.”
Amane nodded, her shoulders releasing.
“Oi, I haven’t seen you in a while. Not since…” He wasn’t sure how to finish the sentence. Shidou had told him what happened, but it was difficult to believe. He couldn’t quite trust his own memory of the night. No matter how much clearer his mind felt since receiving proper treatment, those days of fever still muddled together. He heard that Amane had up and switched her beliefs overnight -- she was now complacent about all of Shidou's treatments -- but Fuuta knew people didn't just change like that. He wanted to hear it for himself.
She lowered her gaze in shame. “I… I thought you hated me.” Her voice was steady. “As you should. I almost killed you. I accept any ill will you may feel.”
“I -- what? You’re wrong. You… it wasn’t…” He grabbed his head, grunting in frustration.
After standing awkwardly in the entryway the whole time, Amane took a few steps inside. She made it to his bedside when he finally collected his thoughts.
“It was your fucked up family or whatever that caused everything. They did this. And I went along and made things worse.” He looked away. His next words felt stupid to say to a little kid. He felt like the most pathetic, weak, loser. But it was too important not to say.
“They almost killed me. You saved me.”
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