#twst jp content | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tempvstas · 6 months

Note

Hello's I was wondering if I could request something. I was curious if you could do an overblot reader based on this song. (https://youtu.be/zEGbIpD6wNo), with the housewardens If you can I would be so grateful. If not that is okay, I understand. Just thought it would be cool. Thank you

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Content Warning(s): angst hehe, not really spoilers, but I mention every single overblot from in the game(in JP, not EN)

Character(s): GN!Reader, most of the TWST cast(too lazy to type out everyone's name)

Authors Notes: this song is so angsty i love it HAHAHHA, apologies for the long wait. Characters may be ooc because it's been a while. Also some parts may not make sense. Interactions can be seen as platonic or romantic.

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

The Nowhere King

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

It's dark.

You can feel a coldness against your skin, seeping into your bones.

The voices are muffled, where are you? You're sinking, deeper and deeper into a seemingly bottomless lake, the darkness surrounding you. A voice urges you to close your eyes, whispering for you to close your eyes and to give into the endless void closing in around you. And somehow you don't feel like resisting. You succumb, curling into yourself, feeling the tender embrace of your murky surroundings.

Unbeknownst to you, a battle rages outside of the safe haven of the cocoon you wrapped yourself in.

.....

"Dammit...no one told me they would be this strong," Leona grits his teeth as he stares up at your imposing form. Behind your current overblotted form looms a large imposing inky figure. An entity stitched together, its face covered with the distinct head of glass with leaking ink seen in all overblot forms, complemented with two large, round ears atop its head. Its white ink-stained gloves slam into the floor sending dust and pieces of the ground flying into the air. Everyone stands before you, worn out from how long the fight has dragged out.

Azul staggers to his feet, wincing slightly as he pushes up his glasses, his eyes narrowing as he stares at your form. "They've lost all sense of rationality. It appears as though our words at this point will be futile." Kalim's eyes go wide at Azul's words, panic settling into his gaze. "What do we do? We're never going to get them back." He whimpered.

From where he's stationed, Riddle peeks out from behind the fallen rubble he used as a shelter, he quickly shoots off a blast of fire in your direction. The blast does little to damage you but merely aggravates you more as the entity behind you swings its hands with reckless abandon scattering more debris everywhere. "Then we just need to blast some sense into them! Just like they did for us..." he stares around at his fellow housewardens. Behind the 7 housewardens, it's chaos. Ace, Deuce, and Grim can be seen running in your general vicinity distracting you as the housewardens formulate a plan to bring you back to your senses. Jack in wolf form charges at you with Epel atop his back, screaming obscenities that would send Vil into a coma, but he can't seem to bring himself to care at the moment

Amidst the screaming and yelling behind them, Idia shakily clears his throat catching everyone's attention. He shrinks away as 6 pairs of eyes focus in on him. "..H-how did none of us realize that they would end up like this? After all, we've all undergone this...a-and did no one notice that the Prefect was a bit off in the past few days?" Vil scoffs, shaking his head, "If you noticed, why didn't you say anything?" Idia moves to rebuke Vil but Malleus cuts in before he can say anything.

"That's enough Shroud, Schoenheit. Do you really think the Child of Man would like to see us bickering over them like this? As we all know, they are not the best at expressing themself." With his words, everyone falls silent. "So the best thing that we can do is to be for them, as they were there for us in our most dire time of need. All in favor?"

Leona huffs, pushing Malleus aside, his shoulder bumping against Malleus's as he gets up from where he was standing. "No need to tell me what to do lizard," he sneers, holding up his staff, watching you swipe repeatedly at the first and second years waging battle against you. "And it looks like to me that the herbivores out there are starting to get worn out, while we sit here all nice and pretty," he pauses, his gaze becoming unreadable, "As much as I hate the idea of working alongside Malleus, I can't help but agree with the fact that they were there for all of us, and I don't like someone being able to hold something against me...so what say you that we go out there and bring them back to their senses?" he grins, leaping down from atop the rubble and running out.

Vil sighs, before dusting himself off and standing tall, a smirk on his face, "I can't let Leona take all of the glory so it looks like I'll have to join myself." As he follows suit, the other housewardens also get to their feet, charging at you to assist their underclassmen.

.....

Hush now, hide, all you little ones Rush now, into the middle of nowhere Singing and laughter will die

You find yourself drowning, struggling to make sense of your surroundings. You feel an overwhelming sense of grief, coupled with anger. Anger at Crowley for being useless and deflecting as always when questioned about a way for you to get back home. Anger at being forced into situations that you had no control over. And most of all, anger at yourself for not being able to do anything and always feeling helpless. Never being able to fend for yourself and always having to depend on others to be able to take care of you.

It's happened time and time again, with Riddle's temper tantrum in the Heartslabyul rose maze. Leona's rampage in the Spelldrive stadium. Azul's meltdown over his contracts in the Octavinelle dorm. Jamil's outburst over winter break. Vil's spiral during the VDC competition. Idia's change of heart on the Island of Woe. Malleus forcing everyone into a slumber. It was all too much for you to bear.

Give in. The voice in your head whispers. Rest now, and let me take over.

Dreamless sleep, follows the Nowhere King When his kingdom comes, darkness is nigh

That's right, you're nobody. Insignificant. Useless. No place to truly call home, and no one to go home to. The darkness seeps in coaxing you to give in.

...

Give in.

.......

...........

Give in.

.................

........................

.............................

GIVE IN.

For a brief moment, you open your eyes and visions flash before your eyes. Your friends in danger, everyone screaming and running. Is that...your doing?

You raise your hand to your head to alleviate the pounding headache racking your brain, but your horrified to see that your hands have morphed into ink stained ones, covered and dripping with black liquid. You feel nauseous and sick to your stomach, covering your mouth to resist the urge to hurl out your guts right then and there. You stumble as you shield your face from the blinding blasts of magic flung your way.

Quiet, crawl to the in-between Silent, secretive feeling Of fearsome hatred that reaches the skies

You've always kept your emotions to yourself haven't you?

As much as you hate to admit it, there's resentment that has always bubbled beneath the surface. You don't show it but you've always been envious of your friends who have somewhere or someone to go to whilst you're stuck with nothing, no one to rely on.

.....

Isn't that right?

Why was it you of all people?

It's not fair, isn't it....?

The mask you've so carefully crafted starts to slip and crumble to pieces. You fall to your knees, gasping for air. Inky tears stain your face as the ground bites into the palms of your hands.

You will bring joy to the Nowhere King When he sees the light leaving your eyes

.....

With one final combined magical blast, the entity behind you lets out a roar of pain before collapsing. It's delicate glass face cracks and shatters, more ink spilling out. As it falls, so to do you, your body crumpling lifelessly. Thankfully before you can hit the ground, Malleus swoops in beneath you, cushioning your fall with his arms. Gently, he cradles your face checking you for injuries before setting you down, his arms supporting your body.

"We...did it?" Azul murmurs in disbelief, his breathing ragged. Everyone else doesn't seem to be faring better than he is. It seems everyone has worn out themselves in the battle.

Everyone crowds around you, concern in their gazes. Before long, your eyes flutter open, and you let out a groan of pain, trying to sit up. "WAAHHHHHHHH Y/N!!" Grim sprints up to you, leaping into your lap, his face tearing up. Still out of it, you grunt, feeling his paws make impact with your stomach and you let out a sharp exhale of pain. It's funny. You think to yourself. Grim never uses your actual name. "You had me so worried don't ever do that again okay?" Grim sniffled rubbing his face into your shirt. "Ew Grim, you're getting snot all over me," you scold him lightly but your voice is soft as you press a hand to the top of his head.

"Take it easy, you're hurt." Vil murmurs, kneeling next to you and wiping your ink-stained face gently. His tone although laced with worry is uncharacteristically soft, his slender fingers feel cool. You inadvertently find yourself leaning into his touch, shutting your eyes.

"W-what happened?" you croak out, wincing a bit. Everything aches and hurts whenever you move.

"You...overblotted..." Jamil murmurs quietly. "You weren't acting like yourself and before long...." he gestured at you, indicating the state you were in.

You inhale a shaky breath, pushing yourself up so that you can face everyone better. You feel tears pricking at your eyes, threatening to spill out. "I'm sorry everyone...I didn't mean to cause so much trouble. I lost my cool...and it ended up with you all forced to use your magic against me and wear yourselves out. All because I couldn't control my emotions..."

No one speaks a word, letting you convey your thoughts. There's a brief moment before Grim walks up to you, gently pressing a paw to your leg to get your attention. You stare down at him, surprised by the serious look on his face.

"Henchman, no one is going to blame you for feeling emotions," he pauses. "You've already done so much for everyone, there's only so much stress you can take." Grim shrugs looking at everyone around you two. "I keep telling them that they're working too hard, but they always insist on seeing things through to the end." Everyone laughs a little at Grim's wording and you can't help but crack a slight smile at his words.

"Classic prefect shishishi," Ruggie smirks, his hands resting behind his neck. You shake your head, setting Grim down on the floor as you attempt to get up. Riddle takes notice of this, leaning down and offering you his shoulder for support. Gratefully, you take it, leaning heavily against him.

"Prefect," your name hangs in the air as you stare at Riddle curiously. "I can't promise that I can offer the best support to you, but I hope you know that if you ever need someone to talk to, I will be here to listen to you...even if I can't offer the best advice." Deuce comes up besides you, supporting your other shoulder, "Ace and I will be here too, you're not alone in this," he grins, allowing you to shift your weight against him.

You feel yourself start to tear up again, your head falling over, your shoulders shaking. "Thank you..everyone. Thank you for bringing me back."

"You were there when we were at our lowest. It's only fair that we return the favor."

◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇ ◇

Back to Navigation [ ❖ ]

Back to the Masterlist [ ❖ ]

Request Tracker [ ❖ ]

132 notes · View notes

therosefrontier · 2 months

Text

TWST Family Lore: Heartslabyul Part 2

Continued from Heartslabyul part 1, because I forgot doing the whole dorm at once would make this huge... Again, spoiler warning for JP server content! But there isn't anything too story-specific for the events here.

Cater Diamond

And now, following our freshmen duo and their positive relationship with their families, we get to move on to Cater! Whose relationship with them is, uh, mixed at best? Anyways, we have mention of his father and mother, and he has two older sisters of unknown exact age, as well. His father is a banker for a large company, and we learn that because of his job, the family moved frequently, about once every two years, to branches all around the world (Halloween vignette). Cater's homeland is stated in his profile to be the Shaftlands, so that's probably where his family is from and it might be where they are living currently, but he seems to have lived in other countries, as well. This alone appears to have had a negative impact on Cater…with him moving so often, he felt that he was never able to make meaningful connections with anyone, so he stopped trying, instead going for quantity over quality. We also get a little story in Silver's Halloween vignette, when he remembers finally meeting a friend at school only to find out right afterwards that they were going to be moving in a month. He mentions in his birthday boy vignette as well that he "never knew" when they were going to move again, and given the one-month thing, it seems normal that it was on pretty short notice. He talks about this impact on him to his Pop Music clubmates in his Halloween vignette, saying that he met many people from around the world, but the common thread was that "I would always leave, and they would always stay."

(image credit: NightCrow)

Cater talks about his situation in a positive light, saying that it was better that he had all these connections through Magicam and could just socialize casually, on his own terms, but at the end of the vignette, the story goes a little different. Cater watches Lilia have a very family-like moment with the rest of the Diasomnia crew and feels a sense of isolation and maybe jealousy...earlier, Lilia told him he was wise for acting as he did, but Cater sees this and feels that Lilia cannot know the way he feels, because he does have these kinds of bonds, which Cater thinks he can never truly have.

But Cater's relationship with loneliness is, again, is a whole essay in itself! Back to Cater's family!

He talks some about his sisters in his birthday boy vignette, in which he describes how he felt pressed in between the two of them (seemed described a little differently in official vs. fan translations? As the official has him saying "give a guy some space" whereas the original may have been more along the lines of 'squished between them', to reference Mystery Shop), and also, how they'd give him a bunch of "cute" things as a birthday present which was more on lines of what they liked than what he liked. But, he does say that they're better about it now and will actually ask him what he wants. He also assures they didn't mean anything by it.

(translation by Otome Ayui!)

But of course, there's more! Multiple other mentions of his sisters seem to involve them asking him to do stuff...

Will do things like go shopping and leave him with the bags, or get a random craving for ice cream and ask him to go get it (birthday jacket vignette). Cater says they can be "pretty demanding," but he amends this story by saying that they will also treat him to stuff while they're out, like pocket money, food, or clothes.

Asked him for a Scalding Sands body scrub that had been "all over Magicam" since he was there for Fireworks Fest (Silk Adorned voicelines)

Cater would cook for them, making pancakes from a store-bought mix (although this might not have been a request; he could have just wanted to) (Apprentice Chef vignette)

At the start of book 4 (chapter 3), when everyone is going home for winter break, Cater says that "going home is kind of a drag for me, too," talking of how he knows his sisters will "run me ragged," so he makes a weak bid to go to Trey's house instead. When Trey lightheartedly counters that his family would put him to work too, Cater backs out of the idea.

Cater's not wanting to go home slides its way in a couple of other mentions, too... in his dorm uniform voicelines, he asks the MC if they're homesick and gets the question thrown back at him, to which he says that he isn't, citing his "annoying" older sisters as the cause. In slight contrast, in his New Year's voicelines, he says that it’s “not too bad to work during the holiday seasons once in a while” because “sure, it’s fun to go back home, but it eventually gets boring.” So this time, it's just 'boring' and not a family issue, but honestly, with Cater, the shifting story doesn't feel out of place. And definitely, it's up for interpretation...he doesn't seem to hate his sisters, but he doesn't really want to be with them, either.

Now, back to the birthday boy vignette! We get another little story, the reason why Cater doesn't like sweets so much: his mother and older sisters got really into making homemade sweets all the time, and they would feed them to him until he was sick of them. Even if he didn't want any, he felt like he had to eat it because they'd be sad if he didn't.

And then, there's his lab vignette... Cater describes the relationship his family as a whole has with "cute" things: “in the Diamond household, everything's judged by one simple question: ‘But is it cute?’ Day in and day out, no matter what I did, if it wasn't cute, it didn't cut the mustard! Drawings, handicrafts, store-bought sweets, you name it!” And thus, the instinct to make it cute was "burned" into Cater's brain.

So, you could say that "trendiness" runs in the family. But also, this does...raise some questions, I'd think? Again, it really is up for interpretation, but Cater specifically saying "no matter what I did" seems to suggest that he felt like the stuff he bought and things he did, including his own drawings and crafts, would be dismissed if they weren't "cute." Like the reason the instinct is burned into him is because that's what he had to do to earn attention. It also feels a little telling that this is the Cater-tries-to-hide-his-sadness vignette, in which one of the mandrakes he grows in the lab, which are supposed to reflect on the mage growing them, turns out gloomy, and he tries hard to deny that this means anything. But as for what all this says about his relationship to his family...I'd guess that perhaps, he feels a little invisible with them. It's not like he doesn't care about them, or that they don't care about him, necessarily (neglect but not on purpose?), but he doesn't seem to feel like his own wants are ever really seen, and the disconnect is to the point that home is not really a place he wants to be. Maybe, one day, he'll open up more about this, but with Cater, I don't think it'll come easy. But who knows...

TREY CLOVER

And now, Trey's family! He lives with his father and mother, and he has two younger siblings, a sister and brother. His sister is four years younger than him (platinum vignette), but we don't now how old his brother is. His parents run a patisserie bearing their name: Clover Patisserie. They are bakers, and likewise, Trey grew up learning how to cook from them, and in his apprentice chef vignette, he seems to imply that his siblings know their way around the kitchen, too. Also, we do have canon[?] designs for Trey's parents! We get art in the appendix of the last volume of the Heartslabyul manga:

(thanks to Honeyworks on Twitter for the image!)

The illustration is credited to Yana Toboso, whose notes, as run through Google Translate (I do not know Japanese...), describes Trey's mom as an "active woman with short cut, tall" and his dad as having "mild droopy eyes." In this appendix, we also get ages for Trey, Chenya, and Riddle at the time of the incident (that is, the big backstory as seen in book 1 of Trey inviting Riddle to try a tart at the patisserie but then they lose track of time and Riddle gets caught...that whole thing...). Trey is almost ten, Chenya is nine, and Riddle is eight, which seems to suggest that this happened in fall, in between Trey and Riddle's birthdays (Riddle on 8/24 and Trey on 10/25). Trey describes the event in more detail in his dorm vignette: he says that Riddle's mom "stormed" into his house and lectured his "whole entire family for five hours straight." (which is an insane amount of time...how did she come up with that many things to say!?) Also, to clarify, there seems to be a serious translation discrepancy with this? Because in the official English Trey says that it was his parents who lectured him for that time, but that doesn't even make sense in context... The quote I used is pulled from Mystery Shop's translation, and YuuRei has a good post on this, too. Anyways, the scene is also referenced in chapter 17 of the manga with Trey's flashback:

Which is...quite devastating, but anyways! As far as I can see, we don't really have much indication of what Trey's parents felt about all of this, but in the manga at least, they appear to be pretty stressed...maybe even cowed by Rosehearts's laying into them like that, and who can blame them?

But, moving aside to happier times! Continuing with Trey's parents, we get a little mention of what they were like as teachers through his apprentice chef vignette. Trey is doing the Culinary Crucible to better learn how to teach cooking to his dormmates, and he comes to a realization: his parents would watch him cook, but sometimes, they wouldn't correct him when he did something wrong until after he failed, because that way, through failure, he would remember, and he would learn. That was what Trey was not doing with his dormmates: he would always step in to fix things rather than let them have that experience.

Trey also talks of his really beginning cooking days in his platinum vignette: when he was four, he helped his parents bake a fairy cake after his sister was born, which they ate with family and neighbors, that being a Queendom of Roses tradition. Trey says that looking back at the pictures, the cake was pretty terrible, but he was excited about helping and thought the cake tasted great at the time, and all the adults complimented him on it, too. After that day, he would join his parents in the kitchen to help bake cakes, although he said he really just made a mess of flour and probably was a "huge bother" for his parents. That said, from the sounds of it, it seems implied that they were pretty patient with him, though?

Trey gives a different food-related story in his birthday boy vignette: his favorite food is candied violets, and he had one for the first time when he was "really young," before he started elementary school. He was amazed at the idea of flowers being edible, and his parents tell him that he "drove them nuts" via repeatedly trying to eat random flowers and weeds after that. Trey has no memory of this. But he does remember snacking on violets at home that were meant for cakes and his parents getting on his case about it. Eventually, they started setting some aside from him, and now, they send some to him at school in the occasional care package.

(image credit: NightCrow)

Trey also mentions his parents in one of his Silk Adorned card voicelines, saying that they love trying out new ingredients, and that perhaps, they should take a family trip to the Scalding Sands one day. Also, in both his birthday jacket vignette and his outdoor wear voicelines, he mentions that he's gone on camping trips with his family before, during summer vacation.

In Trey's Halloween vignette, we get a little story involving all of his family: he once tried half-rimmed glasses similar to the shape Azul wears, to mixed results. His mother and little sister said that they didn't like the glasses because they made him look "angry," and his dad and little brother said that he looked cool in them... because the glasses made him look like a "movie villain." Therefore, Trey rejected the glasses. He has also considered getting contacts, but similarly, his sister says he looks "sinister" without them.

(image credit: Songstress Studios)

Trey has several mentions of his siblings: they seem to have spent a lot of time together growing up, although also, it seems Trey did a lot of looking after them and taking care of them, too.

It was Trey's "job" to make sure his younger siblings brushed their teeth properly, as them being exposed to sweets so much via the patisserie made it a necessity (school uniform vignette)

Trey would make his siblings' costumes for Halloween. He says he's "not great" at it, but he can sew basic things (Halloween voicelines)

Trey would bake his siblings' cakes for their birthdays (birthday boy voicelines). He also mentions in Ace's school uniform vignette that his siblings would often "pester" him to bake for them, and he says in his birthday boy vignette that he would usually cook dinners for the family back at home, since his parents were busy with the patisserie. His brother and sister would ask for his hamburger steak all the time.

Trey helps his siblings with their homework when he's home (Winter Break Calendar 2023)

Trey and his siblings would often play with fireworks together (Silk Adorned vignette)

Once, Trey took his little brother to a Spelldrive game to fulfill his Starsending wish (Starsending voicelines)

In one of his labwear voicelines, Trey says "you all remind me of my younger siblings. They're always running around and giving me a hard time.” So, it does seem that they certainly tire him out. Again, going back to book 4, chapter 3, as mentioned in Cater's part, Trey responds to Cater's request by saying he's welcome to come to his house, but his family would run him "just as ragged." (but, if he was serious about that, that would suggest that Trey knew that his parents wouldn't mind Cater coming over!) It appears that, with the patisserie family business, it can be an 'all hands on deck' kind of affair, with Trey at least helping out with running things. There's also a little mention in Ace's school uniform vignette, in which Trey says that he's used to carrying heavy things because of shopping for ingredients for the patisserie.

Which is all rather interesting to me, really… both Trey and Cater describe their family as 'running them ragged' in some way and relying on them to do stuff, but with very different tones. For Trey, the 'older brother' instincts are so ingrained in him that he doesn't seem to think twice about it much of the time, such as we see in his school uniform vignette, in which he acts on those same instincts with his peers, Ace and Deuce, in insuring that their teeth are clean, and Deuce notes that he has that "kind older brother" vibe and has a "knack for looking after everyone." Which is interesting in that Trey doesn't really seem to be trying to volunteer for everything, and he certainly isn't trying to stand out, but he will take on everything in pursuit of keeping this ship running smoothly, all the same.

That said, he does seem to have a very positive relationship with his family! Although their busy lives might have led to a bit of a he-raised-his-siblings kind of dynamic. Trey seems to be usually very relaxed when talking about them, thinking back on the stories with a kind of fondness. We don't quite have too much to go on yet when it comes to actually deducing the personalities of his siblings as individuals, but from the general mentions, they do seem quite energetic, for sure! And perhaps, much like so much of the Heartslabyul dorm, will instinctively rely on Trey without a second thought...

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

And now, last on the Heartslabyul roster...Riddle. The ever-infamous family of Riddle. A lot of what we know comes from Book 1 of the main story: he's an only child, and both of his parents are medical mages—famous ones, too. Trey says that where they're from, everyone knew their names. Riddle's father is mentioned, but we hear little of his involvement in Riddle's life—the main player on this stage is his mother, who rigorously trained Riddle up to follow in her steps.

In chapter 18 of book 1, Trey first describes what it was like for Riddle: his mother mapped out his schedule to the minute, "from the moment Riddle woke up to when his head hit the pillow at the end of the night," and in the flashback sequence in chapter 25, Riddle describes it in much the same way: "my day was planned, down to the minute." Riddle's mom tailor-made an education program for him and appears to have implemented it herself, and Riddle, in an effort to please his parents, followed every rule they made. He became a prodigy, mastering his signature spell by age ten.

Riddle's mom was very strict with his diet, as well—she kept to very healthy foods, limited Riddle to under 600 calories per meal, and absconded sugar entirely. And thus comes the point of conflict...in the story, Riddle, who was eight at the time, was invited by Trey and Chenya to come outside to play during his one hour of independent study time (in which he was supposed to be studying alone in his room), and then, he started playing with them in secret every day, and it became his favorite part of his day. Then, one day, Trey invites Riddle to try a tart at the patisserie, and they lose track of time...and then, Riddle's mother finds him. She was furious, both at his skipping independent study time and his eating a "mountain of sugar." And then, as mentioned in Trey's section, she goes on to lecture Trey's family for five whole hours.

In this scene with Riddle and his mom, Riddle tries hard to apologize, but she cuts him off, telling him to be quiet, and then forbidding him with playing with Trey and Chenya ever again, and also taking away his independent study time in favor of keeping closer watch on him. In Trey's dorm uniform vignette, he describes Riddle's mom as being "impossible to deal with once she flew off the handle." And so, Riddle was left to just strive to follow the rules she set down, believing that she must be right, for "she was the most accomplished mother in the city, and therefore, the most correct," and he didn't want to lose anything, not again... He also quotes her in chapter 22, saying that "a man who cannot follow rules is a man who cannot achieve anything."

In book 4, chapter 3, we see that Riddle is feeling some dread over going back home for the winter break, but he also does resolve to try to talk to his mother, not that he's confident she will listen. We don't have any mention of how that talk actually went.

Interestingly enough, we don't seem to have that many mentions from Riddle about his family outside of the main story in his voicelines and vignettes, compared to some of the others. He does talk some about his upbringing in his birthday boy vignette: his parents both raised him to take up the mantle and be a medical mage like them one day, which he describes as being a "highly demanding profession." He said that they would tell him over and over "When you grow up, you'll be just like us, Riddle!" Before NRC, Riddle never questioned this path for him, but now, he says that he has developed some interest in law, so he may actually pursue that instead.

In one of his suitor suit voicelines, Riddle mentions that wearing this makes him think of the parties he used to attend with his parents. He also gives a mention in his halloween vignette that his mother taught him social dancing, so it seems like the three of them did go to formal social functions from time to time.

He also mentions his parents in another suitor suit voiceline, talking about how he reads that the Queen of Hearts had an amicable marriage, and he wishes he could share that secret to his parents, which would suggest that their marriage is not doing that great, actually.

Anyhow, social functions aside, it seems like Riddle probably has not had any "real" vacations with his family, or just fun gatherings/outings in general. In one of his Masquerade voicelines, he says "I'm not very accustomed to festivals...especially not ones in other countries. It's difficult to know how to participate and have fun.” And this comes up a lot, it seems, in the 'Lost in the Book' Stitch event, where Riddle is quite unfamiliar with the concept of a vacation at the beach. In one of his beachwear voicelines, he says “Having dinner with everyone while gazing at a sunset on the beach like this… This must be what it means to go on vacation. This is the first time I’ve experienced anything like this.” (Mystery Shop's translation)

In book 6, we get another brief mention of Riddle's mother: upon being invited by Ortho and Idia to play video games to pass the time, Riddle says that his mother told him that video games are "addictive and can hurt academic performance." They had neither a gaming console nor a TV at home. Riddle hasn't read much, if any, fiction aside from classic literature either, from the looks of it. It comes up in the second Halloween event, Spectral Soiree: Ruggie and Ortho, whom Riddle is traveling with, get excited over the prospect of this being like a treasure hunt, with so many tropes coming to life, and they quickly find out that Riddle is wholly unfamiliar with what they are talking about. He says that he has "no exposure" to comic books and video games like the rest of them.

He then goes on to say that he is missing out on absolutely nothing, has read many things, and was reading medical dictionaries by the time he was "Ortho's age." Whether that Ortho's real or perceived age is unclear, as literally, he might be about six? I think Idia finished building him when he was twelve? But Riddle may not know that—obviously, Ortho being what he is gives him a great kickstart in mental development, besides being given memories of the original Ortho, so as far as perceived age goes, he's akin to the freshmen. But saying all that to say! I also wouldn't be surprised if Riddle really was being handed a medical dictionary at age six, honestly.

So, in a general sense, you could conclude that Riddle has a great unfamiliarity with the concept of "fun," which gives a bit of a picture as to his parents and his mother specifically. It was as if everything had to have some sense of necessity; it wasn't enough for something to just be enjoyable. Riddle was put to a strict standard of performance, and in turn, he expects the same of others, in a way he seems to have to take some effort to unlearn. In his dorm vignette, for instance, we see him helping Cater, who was struggling in his practical magic class, with his studying. At first, he makes this insanely long study guide (300 pages), and he gets annoyed when Cater says that this is far too much for him to read, because this is exactly what he is used to doing, thinking that if you don't want to do something, you should just force yourself to (which I imagine is the philosophy his own childhood education took). But then, after a talk with Trey, he realizes that he can't expect everyone to learn like he does, so instead, he makes a plan to teach Cater through pictures and Magicam hashtags so that he could remember them, and it works! And then he goes right back to giving Cater a bunch of textbooks at the end, but hey, it's a start :)

That said, Riddle's development is easily a whole essay on its own! The takeaway here with his parents is that both of them put a lot of expectations on him and are probably very success-driven themselves. In a way, it 'worked' for them, because they are very successful and famous, but their general happiness may be another story. Again, we get little of Riddle's dad specifically except that his relationship with his mom is not great, but with his mom, we get the impression that she is just...very high-strung and obsessive? Her rigorous training of Riddle goes beyond just wanting him to have a good education—she obsesses over his progress in a way that seems to invoke that if anything goes in a way other than what she envisions, Riddle would be hopelessly failed. It's "care" in the worst kind of way... I think that she really does believe that everything she does is for him and his wellbeing, but doing things like that, it becomes a whole lot about herself too, I'd think. Riddle is an extension of her, and therefore, he must be perfect. We know little of what she is like outside of her relationship with Riddle, but it doesn't seem hard to believe that she would have some measure of that strictness and my-way-is-the-only-way attitude with everyone else in her life, although it may be comparatively muted, as it is with some people who will treat their children with a special kind of possessiveness, even if only subconsciously. I do wonder if anyone else ever got the equivalent of the five-hour tirade she gave to the Clover family, but of course, that's all speculation. The silver lining is that it didn't work for Riddle like she wanted it to...he's still his own person, and after he finally came to the point of admitting, at the end of book 1, that he was wrong, and that by extension, the things his mother did to him were wrong (although not so outright), he has become in a better position to grow and move on, although unfortunately, he still has to go back home at the end of the day, and his mom has not changed. It could be a difficult road for a long time yet... but still, I like to think that Riddle is on a better path now, and that, if he ever does become a parent one day, he'll be a better one than his own parents were.

22 notes · View notes

diodellet · 1 year

Text

what can i do for you? (jamil viper x gn!reader*)

i am not ok after seeing jamil's clubwear SSR. when he dropped, i ended up dropping an extra 2k words for this chapter. sige na nga, ill give u more fluff and bliss ser viper🤧 content warnings: -anachronistic (it is set during the main story of twst, but no references to overblots) -g/n reader described as having thick, long, not-straight hair -mix of jp and en terms -gratuitous headcanoning of how nrc classes work -light references to nightmares and bullying word count: 7.1k words chapter 1: just let me do this for you

chapter 2: take my hand like you mean it

You were a capable set of extra hands, to Jamil's surprise. Well, as long as you weren't put in front of a stove. Chores that were usually tedious, like mopping and waxing the floors of certain hallways in the dorm, feeding the animals and cleaning their enclosures—in this case, removing the curtains and draperies that decorated the lounge area for laundry—took more or less have the usual time it required.

"Can you reach it?"

"I don't think so... I'm going to jump—"

"Don't jump!" His hold on the stepladder tightened as you stood up on your tiptoes.

You grunted, stretching your arm out to unhook the cloth. "But I'll be able to reach it that way..."

"Just let me do it—" A section of the scarlet cloth fell on top of him. He pulled it away to see your sheepish expression. "Never mind, get down from there."

You carefully climbed down, immediately going to pick up the other hand of the curtain and helping him fold it. Then, the both of you moved to repeat the process for the rest of the draperies in the lounge.

The golden rays of the afternoon sun streamed into the room, now unhindered from the lack of curtains. You paused to stare out into the surroundings, not one bit bothered by the heat. In fact, you seemed to soak up the warmth. The serene expression that washed over your features was quickly replaced with mild discomfort.

“If you’re tired, you can leave the rest of it to me,” Jamil said, snapping you out of your reverie.

You shook your head, folding the curtain in half and stepping closer to pass your end to him. “I’m good, I’m good. I just…” Your fingers carded through the ends of your ponytail. “Does it ever rain here? I know rain in the desert is a thing, but if the dorms are like a sort of pocket dimension, then does it follow regular weather?”

Sometimes, Kalim liked to make it rain. Whenever he saw the plants in the gardens wilting, whenever they trekked out to a dried-up oasis, whenever he heard his fellow dormmates complaining about the dry heat of Scarabia. Jamil didn’t have any strong feelings for rain, but a part of him—the part that was stubbornly curious about you, felt as if the question wasn’t one from random inquiry.

“It does, occasionally. The weather is independent from the main campus though, if that’s what you’re asking.” He started walking towards the laundry area, carrying the folded-up curtains.

“...Huh, cool.” You trailed behind him, your arms were swallowed up by the sheer volume of fabric. “I think I prefer sunny weather though. Reminds me of home.”

What was your hometown like in your original world? Did you come from a place that was always bright with sunlight? Or were you more used to the persistent scent of petrichor, to cloudy gray skies? Though if he asked, he knew that you wouldn’t be able to give much of an answer.

“That’s nice. Watch your step.” As soon as he said that, you stumbled, foot catching on the trailing ends of the curtain. He shifted what he was carrying to one hand and caught you by the back of your uniform’s jacket.

You quickly righted yourself and apologized, “sorry, um. Thank you.” You ran your gaze along the part of the fabric you stepped on as you gathered it into your arms once again.

“It’s going to be washed anyway.” Jamil let go of your blazer. The use of the upperclassman honorific in place of his name slowly became more frequent with each visit, he noted.

Ironic, seeing as how you were completely at ease with him during your first meeting.

In the laundry area, hampers containing his and Kalim’s used clothes were already sitting there. He figured he could kill two birds with one stone, and do it at the same time.

The curtains were vacuumed every week, but it had been a while since they were properly cleaned. And in a place as sandy as the Scarabia dorm, they were pretty much due for a washing. While the fabric didn’t contain designs as elaborate as the ones that decorated the Asim estate, it was still provided by said family. Tailored, not manufactured, for the renovated dorm and worth more than what he would ever amount to. He sorted through the fabrics, which ones were good to throw into the laundry machine and which ones had to be strictly washed by hand.

He nodded towards the latter. “I’ll handle these.”

“Is this too much detergent?”

“You could use a little more.”

Another thing he noticed about you, was that you were, for lack of a better word, quiet. Rarely did you ever ask questions about how to do or where to find things, only needing a glance around the room. He initially attributed it to the fact that you spent a large chunk of your first days here fixing up your dorm to be at least livable, to make the most of your meager belongings. But behind the awkwardly polite demeanor you wore, there was an experienced and practiced characteristic to how you carried out your work. The kind that was ingrained into muscle memory after years.

When you were alone, did your shoulders sag with bone-deep exhaustion? Did you ache from constant daily exertion? And if he were to hold your hand, would he feel the remnants of calluses and blisters?

“Did…did I do something wrong?” you asked, before closing the machine and letting it run its cycle.

“No, you didn’t.” He brought out a small stool for you to sit on.

Jamil could feel the weight of your gaze prickling the back of his neck. You spoke up after a few seconds of silence, “do you need help with that?”

“No, I can manage this.” In fact, he could make quick work of it. There weren’t any stains that he needed to remove, for once. He filled an empty basin with water and let the fabric soak in the detergent.

“Alright…” you acquiesced, leaning your elbows on your thighs and resting your chin on your palms.

The rumble of the machines, combined with the slosh of water filled the room. Not that he was the most interesting conversationalist to be with, but he was grateful for the ambient noise.

“It’d be nice… if we had our own washing machine for Ramshackle,” you blurted out.

Jamil supposed that the once-abandoned dorm was equipped with all the necessary amenities during its time of use. But if you and Grim were the newest and only living residents, then— “Did Headmaster Crowley not replace the dorm’s appliances?” He rolled up his sleeves before rinsing out the draperies. If he wasn’t careful, he could tear the delicate cloth.

At your silence, he turned to glance at you, meeting your gaze. You gave a slow shake of your head before turning back to watch the machine in front of you. “I had to do it by hand at first—which is fine! Completely fine with me, actually—but everything in that dorm was on the verge of collapse. I kinda feel scared to touch it.”

“If you’re looking for a place to do your laundry…” This wasn’t the place to do it. He was up to his neck in responsibilities, spontaneous and planned. He gave the contents one last rinse then deemed it clean enough to be dried, emptying the basin and wringing out the fabrics.

“Hm? Oh, no, I mean, the ghosts showed me how to use it.” You pondered on your next words, standing up to take the freshly laundered fabrics out. “I just…think that getting a new one would end up erasing what they taught me.”

“The ghosts have been around for a long time. They’re more than used to seeing people come and go.” He flicked the water off his hands. “what more for a broken machine?”

Your head tilted to the side. “...I guess so. ”

The room fell into silence once more as he hung the finished laundry on a metal drying rack.

“We still need to hang these outside.” He tossed a set of clothespins into a basket before passing it to you. The both of you left the laundry area, stepping outside. The clear, sunny weather showed no signs of diminishing and there was a pleasant breeze. With the area he chose, he wouldn’t have to worry about sand and dust getting kicked up by the wind.

“Henchmaaan!”

Your head searched for Grim spotting him bounding towards you on all fours. You threw the curtain over the clothesline before catching him in your arms. “What’s wrong? Where’s Kalim?”

“I dunno and I don’t care, let’s go back home!" Jamil guessed that even Grim had his limits.

At those words, he could hear the dorm leader’s voice calling out for Grim.

"Gyah, you gotta hide me!" He burrowed into your jacket, pitchfork-shaped tail jutting out.

You shared a look with Jamil, confusion furrowing your brow. “Did…something bad happen—ow, Grim your nails!”

“Probably not.” Jamil said as he clipped another curtain onto the line. The fabric billowed in the wind, the finely-spun thread catching the rays of sunlight. He stole a glance at you, standing on the opposite side of the clothesline. Grim was balancing on your shoulders as you talked to him.

“If you made him angry—” Kalim and the word ‘angry’ in the same sentence? That would have been something to see, Jamil thought to himself. “—you’re going to have to apologize to him,” you said as you straightened out another piece of fabric before hanging it.

“He’s…he’s not mad!” Grim protested, tail flicking back and forth. “But he kept taking me everywhere and pinching my tail, and I had enough!”

That sounded like something Kalim would do. His ears then picked up the sound of his footsteps, combined with the sounds of his accessories and jewelry clinking and chiming.

“There you are, Grim!” There goes Jamil’s two hours of solace and quiet.

Grim wailed, hiding behind your legs and putting you squarely in between him and Kalim. “I don’t wanna go with you!”

“Um…if you don’t mind me asking,” There it was again, the use of that honorific in place of Kalim’s name. “What happened a while ago?” Your hands picked at your fingers.

The dorm leader explained that the fire-monster got bored of studying, so Kalim suggested a few fun things they could do around the dorm. It started out with a few board games, followed by a visit to the animals, and then just before he could take Grim on a spontaneous flying carpet ride, the fire-monster ran away to find you. That meant Jamil had to do some extra cleanup after he finished putting away the laundry. Great.

“Oh, I see...” Your confusion didn’t let up but you continued without losing a beat, “so, while I—we appreciate your kind intentions, I think that’s my cue to help Grim study… Maybe you could take him flying next time?”

Kalim nodded in understanding. “Next time then. Oh! By the way, I’m throwing a party this weekend, we could do it then! Would you like to come?”

Your fidgeting paused. “It sounds fun, I just… I wouldn’t know anyone there?” It was clear you didn’t want to go.

“But you know me, and you know Jamil. And Grim can come along too!”

“...Um…I don’t—I guess I do, but…” Your gaze momentarily flicked to Jamil then back to Kalim.

He took your hands in his, eyes shining with undeterred excitement. “The food’ll be good! And, and, I could introduce you to my other friends too! It’ll be fun, I promise!” Guess Jamil had to step in.

“Kalim. They’re probably going to be busy on the weekend.” Or, from what he gathered, you just didn’t seem very extraverted. Surprisingly, he still had an iota of patience that he could inject into his tone. “Just invite them another time, when their schedule’s freed up.”

Thankfully, the dorm leader let go of your hands and didn’t push any further. “Just tell me when, and I’ll make sure to plan something for you, alright?”

You only gave him a stiff smile in acknowledgement.

Truth be told, Jamil didn’t plan on letting you continue to visit. At first, you would always get lost in the dorm, somehow ending up in a room on the complete opposite end of where you were trying to get to. And since Grim would always accompany you, the more the fire monster grew comfortable to his new after school hangout spot, the more of a menace he became. Your time went into chasing Grim around Scarabia, keeping him away from the kitchens while Jamil was cooking. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if you reached the point of having to babysit Kalim as well.

He could go on and on with his nitpicking, but none of it could take away from the fact that you were efficient. Somehow, you managed to take away a portion of the work that burdened him everyday.

[...]

Apparently, he wasn’t completely right about your ability to efficiently manage your studies.

His class was in the library, doing some preliminary research for a paper to be submitted later in the semester. He sat on one of the outer seats of the table his group was using. They were situated in a relatively quiet section of the library. Most of the noise came from the tables near the entrance and the sections with the resources that were most appropriate for the paper’s subject matter.

Said noise and chatter would only grow louder with the arrival of a first-year class. Jamil could hear the librarian already admonishing them. What Jamil would give to be able to throw on his headphones. He flipped the page of the book he was reading. A few passages proved to be somewhat promising, he took note of the important points, condensing them for easy reference—

“Grim! That’s not the right map!”

Something clattered noisily on the table. “Whaat? I was doing it exactly like you told me.”

“No…no, it’s wrong, it’s—we have to redo it, all of it.” The frantic flutter of papers combined with Grim’s drawn-out whine.

“Actually, I think you guys forgot about the time zone, it’s not on Sage Island remember?” Ace cut in.

“Argh, I forgot about that—” A thud against the table surface interrupted your words. Any louder, and Jamil supposed that the librarian would materialize right at your side.

“Guys, the librarian’s looking at us…” Deuce’s voice wasn’t that much quieter than yours, but at least he wasn’t completely ignoring his surroundings.

Your voice lowered to a non-discreet whisper. “What does your solution look like?”

“I got this for my answer.” Your group fell silent, reading over his work.

Ace then spoke up, “...ohh. It looks correct—hey, don’t start crying on the paper!”

“I’m gonna—we’re gonna fail, I don’t get it, I don’t get any of it—”

“Why do we need to manually calculate this? Can’t we just use that fancy crystal ball like the teacher does?” Grim complained.

Ah, first-year Astrology. Now your group’s reaction made sense.

“Hey, those freshmen are starting to be pretty annoying. Should I tell them off?” Jamil’s gaze moved from the book to his classmate. He noticed that he was the only person who had an open book, everyone else was either on their phones or leaning closer to continue in hushed voices.

“Ugh, I was waiting for someone to say something about them.”

“If you don’t do it, I’m gonna complain to the librarian. See how they like gettin’ thrown out into the hall…”

Without making a sound, Jamil pushed his chair back and left the table. Moved two—no, four shelves down to be away from the confrontation when it happened. Not that the distance did anything to lessen the fact that he could still hear the short screech of the chairs being pushed back, whispers slowly growing into an argument, Grim hissing as a warning—

That didn’t concern you. He pushed it out of his mind, put all his focus into scanning the titles along the shelf. A memoir from an author who was prominent in the connected field of study, a collection of similar studies published under NRC, his group could use these. He tucked the books under his arm and went to the front desk. “Excuse me, I would like to borrow these,” he said, setting them down on the wooden surface and filling out the cards at the back.

The irate expression on the librarian’s face didn’t let up. The force of him stamping the cards was strong enough to make the desk shake. But judging from the bits of quiet angry muttering that Jamil could hear, the librarian didn’t seem to have any plans of approaching the area where your group was located. He passed the books back to Jamil and waved him off.

The commotion didn’t seem to have escalated too badly by the time he returned. His groupmates were now just talking about their afterschool plans, counting the minutes until they were dismissed. One of his classmates’ tie was crooked, the collar of his shirt wrinkled possibly from being grabbed. Another was cradling a fresh scratch mark along his wrist. Jamil glanced over to your group’s table—Deuce was going over a worksheet with you. You were absentmindedly scratching the base of Grim’s ear. And Ace was leaning back in his chair. The look in his irises didn’t match his relaxed demeanor—their eyes met and Jamil only gave a small nod in greeting before he busied himself with arranging his belongings.

The rest of Jamil’s day went on without much issue. As soon as afternoon training concluded, he was surprised to see Kalim waiting for him so they could walk back to Scarabia together. The conversation was light, nothing noteworthy. Kalim knew how to speak for two people, he could make a conversation out of anything and carry it for seemingly forever. The problem only started when he would get caught up in his excitement, and since Jamil was talking about Kalim, this happened on a regular basis. Complaining about it wouldn’t amount to anything.

As he changed into his dorm uniform, his phone buzzed. You tended to message right before going through the mirror. The gesture of…courtesy started to make less sense the more your visits became a regular thing. It was still convenient, don’t get him wrong. Though… maybe it was just a bit weird, the more he thought about it.

He read over his reply twice and sent it before going to meet you at the dorm’s entrance.

[...]

“Henchman, y’have to try this!” Grim hopped off the kitchen’s tabletop and trotted over to you.

“Grim, we have to head back before six so I can tea—” Your sentence was cut off by the fire-monster pushing his half-eaten pita wrap into your face. You took a bite and made a pleased sound before going, “wait Grim it’s too spicy—!”

Jamil handed you a glass of water. He saw Grim pour an obscene amount of sauce over his serving. Not that you would know, having just returned from replacing the vacuum cleaner. He would’ve insisted that he should be the one to do it, but Kalim and Grim started bugging him for something to eat. And Grim, unbridled menace that he was, wouldn’t shut up unless his demands were met.

Kalim chimed into the conversation, “are you going back that soon?”

“Yeah?” You knocked a fist against your chest, stifling another coughing fit. “Well, I—we don’t wanna impose… so we’ll leave early.” You took another drink of water then wiped at your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Aww, but I don’t wanna study Astrology…”

“But I’m the one who has to teach you, you rascal.” Your hand ruffled the top of his head.

Grim backed away from you to leap up onto the table. Not that it added much to his height. “Myargh, don’ call me that! Y’don’t even understand it either!” When you pointed an exasperated stare at the fire-monster, he continued to protest, “but it’s Friday! Studying during the weekends should be illegal!”

“I’m sorry, we’ll start getting out of your hair in a bit…” You turned to the both of them, sheepish and apologetic.

“No, no it’s okay.” Kalim waved off your words cheerfully. “You were saying something about Astrology…? Are you having trouble with that class?” He took the last serving of pita wrap and passed it to you.

Jamil took the empty plate and brought it to the sink.

Accepting the snack, you winced. “Well… u-um, every class has its challenges, you know?”

“Liar! Y’were cryin’ snot all over our worksheet!”

Embarrassment filled your voice. “Grim!”

“Well, if it’s Astrology that’s giving you trouble, then you’re in the right place!” Kalim gestured with a wide sweep of his arms. “Did you know that you can see the stars really easily here? You could stay over for dinner and—” he paused, then his smile widened even more.

Jamil knew what that expression meant, that meant the dorm leader was going to suggest something outlandish.

“—we could take the flying carpet! I did that with Jamil when I was also having a hard time with that class in my first year. It’ll be fun, don’t you think?”

Jamil kept his head down, focused on the plates in front of him, the faint smell of dish soap, the cool running water against his hands. But he couldn’t tear his ears away from the conversation.

“Um… but curfew…”

“You could sleep over for the night!”

“Sweet~! We really lucked ou—ack!” Grim’s cheer was cut off by you, continuing to decline on his part.

“No, it’s really fine, Grim ‘nd me’ll start leaving right now—”

“Don’t worry about that! We have plenty of spare rooms, don’t we?” He looked to Jamil for confirmation. The unbridled excitement in Kalim’s irises sent a wave of irritation through him.

A strained laugh left your throat. “Um, I appreciate the invitation, but respectfully, I must turn it down…” you paused, considering what to say, “...seeing as how none of us have brought overnight clothes…”

“Why’re you suddenly talking like that? You don’t need to be formal with us. I insist!”

“I really don’t think it’s okay for us to overstay—” You tried protesting for the third time.

“Lots of people sleep over at Scarabia, it’s no big deal!” Yes, Jamil could remember the times where he found Silver slumped over in a pile of pillows from the lounge, the several instances where Floyd invited himself to stay over “for funsies,” and of course, he couldn’t leave out the bi-monthly Light Music Club sleepovers with Lilia and Cater.

“Um…”

“Stop scruffin’ me, henchman! Kalim’s got a point, doesn’t he?”

Kalim’s voice softened. “Look, you’re practically one of us at this point. It’s fine, really.”

That. That unwavering honesty in his words and how it easily spilled from him. It was careless how freely and earnestly he spoke. But above all, it was enviable. Only a young rich heir could find the capacity to be that open and kind and generous and Jamil could feel a headache pinching at his temple. He placed the cleaned dishes on the drying rack. It took every ounce of his self-control not to set them aside with a clatter.

You didn’t seem to have any rebuttals prepared.

Jamil discarded his irritation, easily plastering on the neutral expression he always carried. “Do you have your books and notes?”

You nodded.

“Make sure to bring it with you after dinner. I’ll tutor you both.” The sensation of having everyone’s eyes on him was uncomfortable against his skin.

“...alright.” Maybe the same could be said for you. “C’mon Grim.”

Now that the kitchen was mostly cleaned up, he needed to prepare a room for you and Grim, find a spare dorm uniform in good condition, then go back to the kitchen to prepare dinner. His internal list of responsibilities to work through shifted to make space for this extra work.

The moment of discomfort didn’t last for long though, Jamil refused to let it linger. Because if it lingered, then that meant he would have to figure out why his irritation was being overtaken with uneasiness. And if he thought about it more then he’d have to…

He stole a glance at you, keeping up with his pace. For once you weren’t trailing behind him like you usually did when you visited Scarabia. You looked like you were half-listening to whatever Grim and Kalim were talking about.

Articulate as he was, he couldn’t name the expression you were wearing. Whatever it was, there was a deeper emotion to it and Jamil found it hard to look at.

[...]

“Look, look I’m matching with you guys now.” You rested a hand on your hip. After a few beats, your expression faltered. “I didn’t wear anything backwards, did I?”

“You didn’t.” Save for the golden accessories that every student from Scarabia wore, the uniform seemed to fit you well. Not too loose or uncomfortably tight, the hem of the vest and undershirt were neatly smoothed out. Just like how you presented yourself in the NRC uniform. “It looks good,” he said.

“Really? It feels super comfy. Well…” you paused, looking down at yourself. “I guess the belt is just a bit long…”

“You can shorten it by doing this.” He stepped closer to you, taking hold of the trailing end and fixing it so that it wouldn’t trail down to your ankles. But in adjusting the belt, part of the undershirt had risen up. The habit of fixing Kalim’s clothes kicked in before he could catch himself.

Jamil’s hands brushed against your hips as he gently tugged the hem of the undershirt back down. He double-checked the belt and smoothed it out once more. At the sudden contact, you tensed up, breath hitching quietly. Several sheets of your epherimedes slipped from your notes as your arms came up by reflex, placing a sort of makeshift barrier between him and you.

Thankfully, instead of mentioning the proximity—the breach of personal space—you asked, "where's Kalim? I thought he said he was going with us."

Jamil picked up the fallen sheets of paper, passing them to you. "He turned in for the night." Well, Kalim was intent on staying up late, but Jamil had already tried waking him up once. To which the dorm leader responded by burrowing deeper into his blankets. Jamil motioned for you to follow him.

“So did Grim. I told him that we were still going to study but…” You sighed, shoulders slumping forward a bit. “...I guess I’ll just make sure to tutor him tomorrow morning.”

It was late in the evening now. The moon hung high in the sky, an upside-down bowl. The sound of your footsteps echoed through the empty hallways. Filling in the silence as Jamil weighed his words. “You’re very diligent.”

You laughed. But the sound was derisive, directed—stabbing—at yourself. “Diligence doesn’t mean much when you earn poor results.”

He thought back to what he overheard in the library. “Don’t be hard on yourself.” To his surprise, his words didn’t feel the same as the empty platitudes he would regurgitate for Kalim. “This isn’t my first time tutoring Astrology.”

And it would reflect badly on his dorm if he couldn’t recall what he learned in the first year, the afterthought needed to be there. To remind him of his responsibility. Because now his mind was catching up to the fact that it was only going to be you and him, and that thought wasn’t supposed to be so… bothersome.

"Are you really okay with it?” He knew that you were talking about having to be an impromptu tutor, your words held a hint of guilt and concern. And even if a part of him was aware that it came from a genuine place, it only made him feel small.

The automatic response came out, albeit a bit more curt and clipped than he intended. “I’m used to it.”

You didn’t say anything more, only muttering a quiet ‘oh, I see.’

The walk to the treasury was quiet, and your silence spoke volumes. It was as if he could hear the gears in your head turning. Despite your reserved nature, you were a mediator through and through, just like Kalim was.

If he said that he wasn’t okay with being volunteered to tutor others, that wouldn’t exempt him from being made to do so either way. He didn’t have a choice in the first place. The least you could do was make the ordeal less painstaking than it already was for him.

Jamil’s hand rested on the doorknob of the room. “Look, the sooner we go, the sooner we can get this done. You can manage that, can’t you?”

The guilt on your features gave way to a determined nod. “Okay, I won’t waste your time,” you promised.

He thought back to the pinky promise you first made. And he pushed the door to the treasury open. “Don’t expect me to hold your hand through the subject though.”

“I know that!” Your voice was pitched high from embarrassment. “You won’t have to start right from the beginning!”

At least you were standing behind him, you wouldn’t have to see the startings of a grin cracking across his face.

“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Jamil asked as he searched around for the flying carpet. The magical artifact greeted you both with a wave of its tassels. It followed the both of you out of the treasury, curling and twisting in mid-air.

You stared. “...oh…we’re gonna fly…”

“Yes—wait, what did you think we were going to do?” Now that you were all outside the main building, the carpet laid itself flat on the ground. The cool night air was a complete reversal of the day’s heat.

“I don’t know! I-I thought Scarabia had some special observatory I wasn’t aware of!”

He gave you an exasperated look. “Are you sure you’re okay with flying?”

“Yes, I’m…I’m not scared of heights… only falling and breaking my bones…” You took a seat next to him. Your hold on your notes was tight enough to crease the edges of paper that jutted out.

Jamil supposed that you were saying that to convince yourself. Judging by the way that your eyes were squeezed shut, his suspicions were only further confirmed. He guided the carpet to slowly ascend, flying high enough so that your view of the sky wouldn’t be obscured by Scarabia’s buildings.

Your trepidation melted away as you took in the night sky. "Woah, the star maps don't do this view any justice…" you breathed.

"Don't get sidetracked now."

"Right, right. Sorry, um…" You opened the textbook and started rattling off what part of the lesson you were at. You showed him the graded worksheets and your notes.

As Jamil listened to you, he read over your handwriting. Somewhat messy, but still readable. Granted, while there were some missing segments in your solutions, you seemed to make sure to include the final answer. Was it a way to challenge yourself instead of copying another classmate’s solution? Or were you intent on figuring it out all by yourself? He guessed it was the latter.

The both of you pored over the material. Redoing the problems you got wrong, filling in the parts of the discussion that you missed. Jamil noticed however that you had trouble comparing the actual night sky with the maps you brought along.

“Wait, which star?” Your brow furrowed as you tried to follow the direction he was pointing at.

He tipped your chin up, keeping his other arm parallel to your gaze. “It’s a dim constellation, so you have to look at the surroundings to be able to spot it. ”

A short, frustrated exhale escaped you. “I still can’t find it.”

“Keep trying.” From his perspective, the end of the star pattern rested just barely atop his fingertip.

He could feel the short baby hairs framing the side of your face brush up against his arm as you continued to search for the constellation. Eventually your confusion dissipated and your eyes lit up with recognition “Oh, I see it now! So then that means…” You looked back down at your notes, flipped through the pages, then started hastily writing down a few messy calculations. All the while indifferent to the fact that his hand was still resting on your shoulder.

“Is this correct?” You tilted your notes towards him.

He scanned what you wrote. “...you used the wrong time zone.”

You swore. “Ugh, I keep forgetting about that.” Your eraser scratched at the specific part of the mistake, making the needed corrections. “Are the advanced classes just as math-filled?” you asked as you redid the solution. “I feel like we’re almost doing rocket science.”

“No, they’re more reliant on magical ability. Scrying, cartomancy, even astrology, when done right can be powerful tools to guide a magician.” So far, so good. He noted as he skimmed your handwriting. “The better you are, the more vivid your visions. Or so they say.”

“Do you believe in that? Things like seeing the future and all that?”

Of course not, he held back a scoff. His entire fate was neatly laid out in front of him by his parents and their ancestors. His destiny rested in the palm of a naive heir full of ignorance and misplaced kindness. His home, his own family, and the prestige they carried was a flimsily-disguised birdcage. Why, he wanted nothing more than to carve out his own path with his bare hands, to just up and leave everything behind. Fate, chance, and destiny be damned.

Instead he settled on this for a short answer. “I think it’s foolish to hinge everything on fate.”

“I thought you’d say something like that,” you laughed. “Rational, practical, down-to-earth Jamil.” Not one bit of the sound felt demeaning, and there’s a note of something…fond in the way you said his name.

Too close. “Don’t tell me you believe otherwise.” He pulled away from you and leaned back on his palms. The magic that powered the carpet thrummed underneath his fingertips, steady as the ebb and flow of the ocean’s waves. He pointed his gaze towards the half-moon floating in a sea of stars, adamantly turning away from your crescent-eyed smile. His stomach felt uneasy, it was as if he was helplessly suspended in between two moons.

“It’s not that I completely believe in it or the other way around, but I came from a magicless world so I gotta…” You hummed thoughtfully as you flipped through your ephemerides. “...think of it as something real now.”

The two of you lapsed into silence, accompanied by the sound of the wind and the flutter of the carpet. Was it supposed to feel this comfortable, being in another person’s space and having them in his own? With this stillness, the both of you were no different from the celestial objects painting the night sky. You were deeply engrossed in your work, oblivious to what your words were stirring.

The scratch of your pencil against paper stopped before his thoughts spiraled out of control. “Okay… is this right?” He thinks he’s composed himself enough to be able to spare a glance.

“Mm, it’s right.” His hand toyed with the edge of his hood. The triumphant gleam in your eyes was blinding.

“So, it’s good?”

He flipped through the textbook then tapped at another sample problem. “Do this one next, then we’ll see.”

“What? That wasn’t discussed in class!”

“It’s like the last problem, you’ll figure it out.”

Despite your initial complaints, the rest of the tutoring went by relatively well. You weren’t merely echoing what he was saying. Save for some minor mistakes, you seemed less daunted by the subject compared to before. As long as you took your time working through the problems, Jamil was sure that you would do well enough. But just before you descended back to the dorm’s main building, he had you write down the lesson’s main points. Just to be sure. You were still going to be responsible for teaching Grim in the morning, after all.

“Solid ground, thank God! I was about to freeze up there.” A shiver passed through your body despite your light-hearted laugh. As you were about to walk past him, Jamil grabbed your wrist.

The tips of your fingers were cold. “Why didn’t you say anything?” The tone he used must’ve come out sharper than intended, you flinched before answering.

“Well, because we were already there and you said…the sooner we went, the sooner we’d finish…” you reasoned weakly.

He sighed. “Give me your other hand.”

“I’m fine, really! Just give me a sec—” Your protests fell silent as he shushed you and cupped your hands in his.

Warmth spread from his palms to yours, a simple heating charm. Your hands relaxed in his hold. A stubborn part of him chalked it up to the needed change in temperature.

“Better?” His own cheeks felt warm. It’s the residual magic, he rationalized, the fact that he didn’t use his pen to cast it.

You gave a small nod in response. Your gaze continued to stare at your linked hands.

The edge of your palms were rough, hardened from work. If he shifted his hold, he could feel the bump of a callus on the side of your favored hand.

He let go. “I still need to put the carpet back in the treasury.”

"...no." The word was uttered so quietly that he strained to hear it.

"What?"

Your head snapped up. The moment you made eye contact with each other, Jamil noticed your eyes were blown wide. As if you were a deer caught in the headlights—you reached forwards and yanked his hood over his head. His vision went dark, tearing a surprised noise from his throat. He heard the sound of the drawstrings being pulled taut, followed by the sensation of you pushing him and turning to run away. He stumbled backwards.

Fumbling for the drawstrings of his uniform’s hood, he bit back a curse.

The strings were double-knotted.

[...]

Like every other person, Jamil had dreams. Of reliving certain childhood memories, of being chased and feeling like he was running through water, of having his teeth fall out. Once upon a time, he dreamt of being able to travel around the world once he grew up.

He doesn’t immediately recognize this as a dream. For all he knew, this was one of his usual days at Night Raven College. Robotically going through the motions, running to and fro at Kalim’s behest, reigning in his emotions, staying average and mediocre.

The sound of his class lectures sounded faraway, as if the professors were speaking through water. But as the day continued, he could also hear bits and pieces of your voice. One-sided scraps of conversations, you calling out for your friends, the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, they all stood out against the muffled voices and hazy figures populating the school. Every time he searched, he would only catch a glimpse of your back as you entered a different classroom or the end of your ponytail as you would round a corner. And just before he catch up to you, he would only find a red feather lying on the ground.

It was as if you were a ghost.

He had other things to focus on. He made his way to Scarabia’s mirror and stepped through the glass, arriving at his old room in the servant’s quarters.

Why was he here? Everything was where he left it, untouched and undisturbed. But that did little to tamp down on his rising unease. He turned back to the door and found it locked. The windows were also locked, he was trapped—

The walls fell away to reveal an intricate and ornate birdcage, constructed out of gold, tall enough to reach the ceiling. No longer was he standing on solid ground, he was a little bird standing on a small perch now. No better than the numerous ornaments that decorated the Asim estate.

The door to the room opened revealing you. Dressed in the fine robes of his hometown, golden accessories decorated your wrists, neck, and ears. Your hair was adorned with a single, red macaw’s feather. You looked no different from a noble. A vision to behold. You unlocked the cage and carried him out. He was small enough to fit in your palms.

You gave him a soft smile and smoothed down his feathers. His wings were pinned to his sides but you were careful not to press too hard against the fragile bones. “You weren’t meant to be caged, little one,” you said, walking towards the open window.

No, he couldn’t fly, he couldn’t soar. He couldn’t do anything except flail about helplessly in your hold. Useless birdsong spilled from his throat. Each step you took brought him closer and closer to that endless blue sky. He didn’t dare look down.

He could feel the wind now. A light gust that would’ve felt refreshing now sent a spike of adrenaline through his veins. The only thing separating him from the ground was your gentle hold. His breathing quickened, don’t let me go, please don’t let me go—

You were speaking but he couldn’t make out any of the words. Your cupped palms dipped once before throwing him into the blue sky.

And then he was falling down, down, down.

Flapping his clipped wings.

Wind rushing against him.

Blood roaring in his ears.

Screaming mutely until his throat felt raw.

He was going to hit the ground and break all his bones and die why was it taking so long—

Jamil’s eyes cracked open. The first thing he saw was the darkened ceiling of his bedroom. He was still in Scarabia. He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. A glance at his phone screen told him he woke up two hours before his alarm was set to ring.

Might as well get started for the day.

The dream would be quickly forgotten. He would go through the latter classes of the day with a building headache. Even Kalim would notice his discomfort, but his attempts at concern would be waved off.

It was just a dream. And he knew better than to dream.

chapter 3: you're afraid to believe it A/N: first i'd like to thank @jessamine-rose for beta-ing this fic, your fresh eyes were very helpful in convincing me i wasn't going completely crazy😭😭 For my dear readers, i think now would be a good time to mention that I am primarily an angst and hurt/comfort writer so... part 3 will take a bit of a while since i have to resolve all Those Feelings ahhhh.... anyways! i hope you enjoyed reading this, don't be afraid to rb and holler in the tags, i treasure each and every comment💕💕

#dellet-writings #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #g/n reader

149 notes · View notes

pianostarinwonderland · 11 months

Text

stuff in my head about what's happening

there is absolutely no end to the drama that is Twisted Wonderland :-)

"what's happening now" so basically everyone is disappointed with how Vil's SSR has absolutely no story. no personal, no appearance in the event. he's just there to be pretty. and give furniture.

and you Know it's bad Bad when not only the EN fans but the JP fans are talking about it. and by talking about it, i mean

personal story has trended

a big twst artist, twst_13, made a tweet expressing that they were pretty upset with the lack of story, and well.. that honestly ended up being their last straw in leaving the twst fandom. and due to their rep, it really spread throughout the fandom and uh yeah here we are

and rn a lot of people are doomposting. just your regular twst afternoon

so yeah it's been fun so far B)

in all seriousness, ik a lot of people aren't happy with this. if you're really discontented with what's going on so far, email twst. giving feedback is the best way for them to know what their audience wants, and they do listen to their fans if enough people send them concerns. you can send through this link. i think it would be great to email them in Japanese, but if you really can't, wellll let's hope some people there understand English <3

anyway there's a cut because i currently have talk too much disease and have Opinions on this so i want to make it an easier scroll for people encountering this post.

hi welcome to under the cut, where you will find the real reason why i'm making this post: to not Shut Up about what's going on.

personally my thoughts on this are mixed. on one hand, I really don't mind some cards just getting furniture instead of stories because (1) guest room feature nice for me, but I also understand that those who aren't immersed in it would be more frustrated; (2) more importantly is the thought that with less stories to write about, the writing team would actually, idk, have more breaks. the main focus would be delivering a Good main story chapter, and they put event stories on a halt for a bit.

on the other hand, this Is an event SSR, so it feels weird. club cards are acceptable because at least it's new New art and kinda accepted already that it's not gonna get personals. the main story cards, like cerberus Ortho and upcoming general Lilia SSR, are acceptable because they are already accompanied by main story. some tsumsted cards like the SRs and Rs are acceptable too because the event story itself already accompanies them. but an event SSR of an event being reran. it's a bit disappointing.

but at the same time, i've also gone through the time that twst was slow in pacing. and it was really hard. that was the first wave of exodus, and it's still the biggest one to this day. so it's like, if guest room furniture can let them keep updating the game so that it doesn't go too quiet, then I'd really much rather have what we're having now over slow pacing.

and diasomnia has been in the waiting room for wayyyy too long. a lot of fans, EN and JP alike, have been frustrated with how long they had to wait for diasomnia content. and ik twst listens to complaints especially from their JP audience. so it's good that now they're shifting priorities to dia story and ensuring that fans aren't dying too fast. and ngl after how long pome and igni felt (emphasis on felt because pome actually wasn't that long in hindsight, it just felt long after how we went from frequent octa and scarabia to two-month halloween), it's good that main story is getting updated at a good pace.

most importantly, i really just hope that the writers have more room to breathe. making a lot of personal stories, as well as revising, editing, and getting approval would be understandably difficult. in the end, we really don't know the situation in the hq, so whatever is happening there, i hope that the teams and devs aren't burning out

at the same time though, i also don't want event SSRs like upcoming Silk Vil not having personals to become a norm. a big part of what makes twst enjoyable is their story and their characters. and much of what we know of the characters is found in the personal stories. but see, this is where sending in a concern is important!! because we want this game to be as best as it can, and simply complaining about it will cause an echo chamber of doompostings with no substantial effort being put into actually doing something about it. i'm probably gonna see if i could send a concern to them about it because yeah, I want to see twst doing better.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst jp #drama #i forgot my drama tag shiet

73 notes · View notes

raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months

Note

One massive difference between the western vs JP TWST fandoms that I haven't seen anyone else talk about is that the Japanese fandom seems to dwell in "grimdark" territory while the western one tries to see the best in these characters. From my glimpses into the Japanese fandom, they seem to see these character's darkness as the main appeal. That's reflected in their fanworks, since yandere works or things that dive into their dark sides are more popular there. While there is plenty of yandere content in the west, it seems more like a niche than the most popular way to portray the characters in fics where as in Japan that seems to be the norm on Pixiv. The JP seem to LOVE their grim dark fan theories WAY more than the western one. The western fandom seems like the opposite. Works seeing their humanity, them being decent partners, etc is the norm. Thought?

“I can fix him” vs “I can make him worse”—

Mmm, I have many thoughts on this but before I get into them I want to clarify some things. This is so everyone reading is running with the same definitions and thus can better understand (and perhaps contribute to) the discussion.

Firstly, “grimdark” can refer to any and all materials which people may find disturbing, amoral, and/or violent. Grimdark is NOT just yandere content. Although yandere content is an example of grimdark, not all grimdark is yandere.

Secondly, I want to dispel the notion that “grimdark” and “seeing the best in the characters” are opposites. They are actually not mutually exclusive; it is entirely possible to have the two overlap. For example, it is common for assassins to be after Kalim’s life (which is dark). However, Kalim himself is very cheery despite being cognizant of this (which is not dark, he is able to see the nest of this situation and is often praised for being a spot of sunshine in the cast). There are also much darker takes while staying true to Kalim’s caring nature, such as fandom works which portray his big heart (a strength) as a detriment, causing him to fall into deep paranoia and/or guilt. For the purposes of this discussion, I will still refer back to those two original viewpoints, just be aware that they are not truly “opposites”.

Lastly, the ask is phrased such that it suggests that dark content is “the norm” in Japanese circles. In actuality, the content you see is dependent on personal biases and what the algorithms feed you based on your likes and communities. While it’s true that perhaps Japanese fandoms have more dark content than the western fandoms, that doesn’t necessarily mean it is “the norm”. It is still considered niche, it is just that the fandom culture of Japan is more open-minded about these depictions, as well as fans’ choices to filter out dark content if they do not wish to encounter it. Western fandoms are very different in this regard. Rather than ignoring content they dislike or find disturbing, western fans tend to adopt an attitude of openly renouncing that which they dislike and, at times, calling out those that do enjoy that kind of thing. It is this social stigma and pressure within western fandoms which creates a less welcoming space for dark content to exist and to be publicly shared. Rather than saying one type of content is “the norm”, I think it’s more accurate to say certain types of content are deemed as being “acceptable” or “unacceptable” depending on the fandom culture.

Now then, as to why the western fandom in particular tends to favor works that show the TWST characters in a favorable light rather than focus on their darker aspects? There are many possible explanations for this:

Cultural differences in fandom spaces. I already mentioned this in the opening paragraphs, but it warrants repeating here. Japanese fans are much more reserved in how they express themselves and tend to keep quiet relating to content they dislike or don’t care for. Western fans are more outspoken and may actively “call out” what they dislike. This is typically observed in collectivist vs individualist countries, as conformity with the group/not causing disruptions to the group harmony and standing out and being one’s own individual are opposing ideologies and values.

Japan’s culture is one that stresses the importance of politeness and being proper. The country has strict social expectations of people and especially women (which makes up the majority of TWST’s fanbase). It is only in the realm of fiction where Japanese women are able to freely express themselves and to explore subject matter deemed socially inappropriate, however dark it may be. Fandom is their creative outlet. Meanwhile in the west, it’s the opposite. Overt uniqueness is more acceptable overall, but there is also a present effort of policing online content, often in the name of social activism and inclusion. This makes sense for western countries, many of which sport much more diverse populations than Japan.

Going in with the certain expectations of the game. Many western fans mistook Twisted Wonderland for a dating sim when its marketing materials first released, maybe due to a language barrier. This set them up for the wrong expectations about romancing and potentially “fixing” a villain, even when the game finally came out (due to residual feelings; I know for a fact there are still a handful of fans who want TWST to have a dating sim spinoff or wish the game had been a dating sim from the start).

Changes made in the localization.

I’m not sure what the ratio of westerners playing EN to JP, but the official localization made several changes which “blunted” some details or changed the context of some characters’ stories. For example, Jamil is no longer a “servant” but an “employee”, Kalim is his “employer”, not “master”, and Jamil complains that his parents will be “so mad at him” when he is asked why he doesn’t rebel against the Asims whole the consequences are made much more explicit in JP (his family will be thrown out onto the streets). Cater, Floyd, and Idia have also notably gotten a lot more memey dialogue that was not there in the original. These softened versions the characters may make western fans more likely to see the a less severe backstory or have goofier interpretation of certain characters.

Popular western media’s interpretations of villains. A lot of western media nowadays tries to redeem the bad guys. For example, in many young adult and adult romance fantasy novels, the love interest is often presented as a misunderstood bad boy that has a change of heart because of the protagonist. Disney themselves is also guilty of “softening” many of their more recent villains and giving new backstories to older villains to make them more sympathetic (Maleficent, Cruella, etc). Compare this to “classic” era Disney villains, who are just evil for the sake of being evil. These will naturally inform the general public’s views on villains. (It is also to be noted that Disney villains and specifically their evilness are extremely popular in Japan. They are adored for being fun characters, not necessarily admired for being bad.)

Disney’s reputation, especially in the west. The company is closely associated with fairy tales —and, more importantly, with magic and happy endings. This, too, may contribute to western fans wanting to look on the “bright side” of things and wish for happy endings for characters that are, in fact, part of the Disney brand. The Disney message is perhaps strongest in the west due to having its origins there:

The age differences between the Japanese and the western fandoms. The western TWST fandom skews young overall whereas the Japanese TWST fandom is older (which is why a lot of TWST merch you’ll see is expensive household goods and fashion; this is to appeal to working Japanese women). As I mentioned in the previous point, this means younger audiences in the west may mostly encounter media which presents villains in a more sympathetic light, or at least much earlier (which leaves a stronger impression). This makes them more inclined to view other media in a way which is more flattering for the villains even when they are dark or morally ambiguous in canon.

Younger fans may also be not as informed and thus lack some perspective, which means they may have more limited views. A 15 year old wouldn’t have as much life experience as a 20 year old—that’s not a bad thing, it’s an objective truth that has an impact on their perspective. They may see things more simplistically or see easier solutions to complex problems. Younger fans may, for example, be able to identify circumstances as being traumatic or unfair (such as the case with Jamil’s past and Leona’s desire to introduce new technologies to his home country) but may not understand the full ramifications (ie why Jamil cannot just leave or have Kalim to speak with his dad about it, how difficult Leona’s plans would be to implement as well as the social pushback due to the harm the advances could pose to the environment). This leads to more of a lean to positive content, as dark content would inherently mean problems are much more difficult to resolve and have more factors to them than what was originally considered.

I want to also point out that younger fans are especially concerned with what their peers may think of them, and so they may feel too embarrassed to dabble in darker content. Some dark content may also not be perceived as appropriate depending on the fan’s age. Alternatively, some fans may just not feel comfortable exploring those ideas (and that’s totally fine!).

Western fans project onto/relate to the characters they love. I’m not saying that Japanese fans don’t do this, but I feel like western fans tend to do this to a VERY strong and sometimes parasocial degree (which has its roots in comfort character and kinning culture, things which largely do not exist in east Asian fandoms). Like… western fans can relate to a character so deeply that any criticism of that character can feel like a personal attack on them, the fan. Likewise, if that character is presented as having flaws or doing questionable things (even if it is canon), the fans that are strongly projecting onto the character may feel that they themselves are flawed or somehow “bad” too. This can lead into trying to defend or justify the character’s flaws or actions. Maybe a fan that has shared trauma with a character sees them as a proxy and want to see the character (and thus, themselves) in a positive way or in good situations. In eastern fandoms, it is more appropriate to consider the character a separate entity rather than relating to or projecting onto them.

The western rise in moral justification for the content one consumes. This is a big one, and it has been alluded to in some of the other points. There is this belief circulating in western fandom spaces that “the content you consume reflects your real world values and morals”. So… if you believe that (or are in a social space where it is believed) and happen to like evil or morally grey characters, what does that imply about your own character? Does that mean you are morally bankrupt or that you condone bad things? Personally, I don’t think so but I understand why this way of thinking could make people feel ashamed. They may avoid looking at “dark” interpretations of a character and instead focus on wholesome feel-good content so that the content they consume reflects “well” on themselves. In other cases, fans may try to twist the bad points of a character to make it “morally okay” to like them.

That’s everything I could come up with off the top of my head!! I hope this was interesting to read and maybe helped you see the international TWST fandom from a new perspective. With that, I’ll leave you with this relevant Wreck-It Ralph quote: “I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland en #twst en #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #notes from the writing raven #question

231 notes · View notes