#so first part is just analysis of stuff

[dors-ee]

Thanks to Biz barclay video about whales i've been doing some thinking about references/metaphors for timebomb/Jinx.

It started with Moby dick for timebomb, and the matter of perspectives (like his level of obsession, the unhealthiness, should he let her go or not, etc. Is she his Moby Dick? Under a certain perspective maybe. Is she just victim too or is she actively dragging him down. etc etc. I need to explore that.)

And I ended up on what i'm going to develop (putting a cut so pple that aren't interested can scroll past this behemoth of a post more easily.) :

the sea/harbor/drowning theme vs wind for Jinx, and timebomb.

First part is pure analysis of the themes, then I go into more theorizing/personal thoughts/criticisms about her leaving and what it means, finally a short pure analysis at the end again. Be warned I do criticize stuff in the show in this.

Someone in a reddit thread pointed something I found interesting in that Ekko has an obsession with clean air, vent, clenaing the air.

And air is everywhere in his character (the tree, the bug that flies, he flies.) But also what he represents for Zaun, with his commune and tree : a breath of fresh air. A respite. Hope. Wind of hope or something like that.

And Jinx is associated with Janna, she comes to be associated with Janna... gets elevated from the depth of the harbor, the drowning, to the air, the wind. Powder, that drowned in a well, gets out of it.

But when you look at it, she started with the air theme actually. Our first vision of her is with her speaking of flying in a blimp. She looks at the sky, she wants to fly.

Powder that started with the blimp, the sky, the air...

then the sea/drowning theme is brought to her by Silco, who had this tied to him from the start.

Silco, very tied to the sea/drowning theme from the start, like he first shows up in an underwater lab in the show.

He dragged her with him in this, he is the one that brought the sea. He is the one that had her be this sort of twisted reverse ophelia. (reborn in "madness" instead of freed from it with the drowning. mad, crazy, insane, etc. should be avoided as per the communities' demand, bc they are ableist. but i can't find another term here for this concept of thr "madness" in literature, theatre, ballet etc.)

He dies, and she goes back to the wind, to the air. Bits by bits.

She starts to push back the toxic air... Then, she reaches the tree -symbol of oxygen, growing up-, the firelights -symbol of air for Zaun, bug that flies. It's not the air itself yet, it's a breath, but it's going there.-

Also the tree as a way to climb back up, roots that go down down down but still grows up toward the sky. In zaun in particular there's the very "its roots are in a terrible rotten place the one that is Zaun, [sort of underworld?] and yet it grows and thrives." Thus linking the tree to Jinx too? and a way for her to climb, via the tree, a junction, before she takes off in the sky. Making the firelights a transition, before she can take off and fly away. which yes ok thematically it works.

It pains me to admit it bc that makes Ekko just a transition for her -cool cool. Use the black man as a prop, the black man of the ship that is all for her, reduced to be all for her, but she just uses him before discarding him? Yeah. Nah. That's shit.- but it kinda also works in her narrative. And... it's there. In the show. she did use him and discard him, if she voluntarily left. And I hope if there's a spinoff it'll get adressed. That Ekko will adress it. cause it's not cool in general, but here using the black man as a prop for the white girl... Hmmm.

And finally the blimp (as much as I still dislike and struggle with the "she left" thing, cause like nah, the show didn't show her in a psychological crisis at the moment of her death. they didn't show her in a "everyone around me die". they showed her at peace. and yes peace by dying but that doesn't mean that realizing she didn't die she would immediately freak out. I mean she didn't have to realise she survived : she voluntarily escaped if what is shown is true with the shimmer going to the vent (and it's the only way she'd have survived anyway, by using shimmer to escape.). Her planning to die beforehand could be a reason but it doesn't work either cause Ekko... or as I mentionned just above, if that's the case, it makes it that she used him. Then discarded him. Worst, that she left him believe she was gonna live, or had hope, was better. That he succeeded in pulling her back from suicide. I love Jinx, a lot, but damn. I do not have hope due to the other racist stuff the writers did, but I fucking hope it'll get adressed at one point or another if they do a spinoff with them, or show them in another spinoff.)

And the going out via the sky. she flies away, literally, runs away, and is free.

(ngl if they put her in bilgewater next... except if it's a metaphor of how she has sunk back down again, I will not like it. But they care more about what people want. people see Jinx as a pirate so they'll make her a pirate. Don't care if it doesn't make sense with her development. Like it could make sense, as a "regression" or being so lost with herself -and being alone to figure it out- she falls back on what is familiar and what she knows. In this case, ties to the sea, adventure, recklessness, selfishness, etc. That is a strong possibility. We commonly fall back on old familiar behaviors when feeling lost with ourseleves and our identity. We seek environment that brings a sense of familiarty with their similarities of the one we knew, and that potentially traumatized us. Brain goes to what brain knows, even if it's hurtful. It takes a lot to go with the discomfort, even "pain" of what's new, even if we know technically it's better. it is so alien, anathema even, to our brain and psychology..)

It's a representation of her narrative arc, Powder (which is a volatile material, light, flying) and the sky, then powder falls down in a well, jinx is reborn, harbor, etc. Then she lets go of Silco in the sea and starts to reconnect with the wind and cie.

Going from one to the other, up high or reaching up high, to then not just fall to the ground but below it. The sea is below the ground, below earth level (dunno the exact english term for it) the sea of the underworld/the styx with the souls lost.

That would go with her bringing Silco's body there. Bc it's his/their thing the harbor, the well, but also it's kind of a styx reference/symbolism too maybe?

But ultimately for me timebomb connects on an "air" level. He does go down to her, yes. But he brings her back up. He is air for her, a breath of air -hope- like he is for Zaun. They connect for that, for this future, to build the something new.

they come in the battle via flying. They got down together, but now they'll try to fly, and bring air, together.

... and then what? she decides to return down? She decides to fall back down, and away from him. She decides to leave leave him... either bc she did fall back down and thus her ending in bilgewater, as I said as a reproduction of Jinx like with Silco, of this regression in her development, would make sense.

or she did decides to leave, not as a falling back down, but as a "be free and better and at peace", as a getting higher even, which... that means she used Ekko as a stepping stone.

And her falling back down, it doesn't fit with the "breaking the cycle" stuff and walking away and most importantly the flying away with a blimp, to be freed and better and at peace I think.

Explanations :

By flying away with the blimp, symbolically she's reaching this height of freedom, and flying, she elevates at the maximum. What's higher? the sun? Jinx isn't Icarus at all. she is leaving the show at rhe highest possible.

Now of course, it doesn't mean everything will be perfect and ideal. The high of doing something so drastic, that can feel peaceful at first, can break and one can fall back down pretty harshly. The higher one gets the harsher one falls... (So ... Icarus finally, yeah.). One could fall to their death even. to the underworld. from the sky, the highest height, back down to the sea -or the underworld-?

And of course, one does not heal so easily, not with issues and beliefs as deep rooted as she has. I do not discard the idea that after a while her issues came back. what does not work for me is that she wasn't shown in that space of mind in the final. She was shown into something opposite even.

I really think the show messed up in the final. rushed stuff and it doesn't make sense, things contradict themseleves.

also here we are speaking of the symbolism of sea/air stuff. and so if we stick to this -I know i go on tangents a lot.- it doesn't work.

Bc they only showed the blimp aka the air aka highest elevation in the air. aka only finally be freed in the most freeing way possible. (flying is oftentime linked to freedom in medias, to extreme total freedom. The ah what's the word... "apogée").

They can still after that go in and say "yeah nah her mental health have gone down again blablabla", she fell down back to drown, but in the show what was shown was clearly her getting away in a positive light. (whether we take her death at face value -peaceful expression- or leaving with the blimp.-).

They could go this road "elevated to the sun, flied too high, fell down bad. Here she is back down."

But then as much as I would like realistic psychology, and her not being healed so easily etc etc.

It would be boring to have her back at square 1 fallen back down fully with her old bad habits. Like that one is a personal opinion but it would bore me a lot and I would find it too easy to have a full revert of her development.

There's only one exception to this i could like, developped a few paragraphs below.

Although, again. I do not harbor -no pun intended... ok. yes. pun intended- any hope as I already stated in another post.

but it could be done... Although, again... what does this mean about her leaving?.

Her leaving with the blimp was framed as positive, as breaking the cycle, trying to find peace elsewhere. As an act of liberation. Death or leaving actually were both SHOWN that way. It's on screen. Her death is shown as her finding peace and liberation.

dying a hero and saving someone for once.

Not as her believing people would be better without her. Her whole death scene and the blimp and the whole thematic arc with air/sea/etc. So not go with her leaving bc she was under the logic of her twisted beliefs. Or in a mh crisis. it was shown as positive and peaceful and even... hopeful (for her.). Even if we decide to say thr MH crisis happened again, the blimp and what it represents in her narrative arc doesn't fully work with it. It's too... positive. too hopeful when we put it in her narrative arc, like even if we don't go the road of what i analysed with the air/sea. It's still a symbol of her breaking the cycle, for herself (aka violence. so hope she won't fall back into her old bad habits. and won't be a jinx anymore. which leaving doesn't break this cycle of being a jinx at all, it's a form of runing away from facing it but anyway.). It's this circle moment of young Powder, innocent hopeful powder that dreamed of flying. Finding Powder again, finding herself etc etc.

It's supposed to be positive. No matter how we look at it.

Now... All of this being said, I had a realization whilst writing :

Jinx as Odysseus. Ekko as Penelope. (that would make sense with the bloody scylla reference thrown in the extended version of mme.)

oooooh... Am i onto something 🤔

That would work very well with the already there reference of Orpheus and Eurydice for them... Eurydice did go back down, to the sea of the underworld, but fret not my love, I will be back. I will make my way back to you, just so you wait this time. (I... would not be bored by that.)

but where's the wind/air theme, and it still doesn't fit perfectly with where things were left at and what was shown. Odysseus/Penelope is not just : one is away and the other awaits. Odysseus also didn't voluntarily exile himself and stay away voluntarily. He didn't go on a personal identity quest and journey... He left for war then kept trying to come home.

but mixed with Orpheus/Eurydice... it can work. She left bc she had to go back down to the underworld? But she has to get back up by herself this time? long odyssey trying to come back?

but why did she has to go back down? or maybe she didn't fully chose too.

That... would work. that she didn't actually fully chose to leave... It's what I go with usually, that her mh - + injuries- had her leave kind of against her will -or more so following her twisted logic- but it still doesn't work with what was shown on screen during her death scene (explained above). except if maybe whilst in the vent she started to freak out...

ngl her having to leave again against her will kinda is the only thing that make it all work for me, even in term of symbolism/thematically speaking.

BUT that would mean she was already drowning and falling down again...

Or maybe she never fully got back up in the first place. And her thing with Ekko helping her was a fad.

not cool for him. But could work. he didn't actually bring her back up fully.

he... offered a reprieve, a breath of air, before she drowned again and had to leave to get fully better elsewhere. Used him then by man. (it wouldn't be the same as what i said "wait for me i have to get better by myself". This "wait for me etc." could work if she told him she was alive. If she did it could work. If she let him believe she was dead... eeeeh.)

which... I already explained why that's pretty shitty.

However, we also fall back on : why the blimp then? why the air and highest elevation and freedom possible shown then?

As I stated higher up, the blimp and her going away is framed as a positive and doesn't work with her leaving bc of a mh crisis or bc she didn't fully chose to, etc.

Bc of twisted beliefs eventually (I am breaking the cycle and will find peace elsewhere, all alone). that's it.

why the blimp? why this symbol of reaching the highest heights of "air"? Of freedom? In our collective imagination/reference something that flies is the height of freedom. One of it's ultimate symbols.

If they planned on bringing her back down, or saying she got back/still is down, why not showing a boat leaving? if they plan to drown her again, or say she is still drowning in a way, why the blimp and not a boat? Even if they go the road of odysseus/penelope with timebomb, a boat would have been fucking perfect. the blimp... the blimp is positive. The blimp is is "I am breaking the cycle and i am freeing people and myself.". It's using then discarding Ekko if he believes she's dead and wasn't warned about her plans. it's shitting on him.

I put "I am a jinx and people around me die" into her being back down btw. Ofc in general those beliefs wouldn't leave her so easily, of course. They're very deeply rooted. Healing is not linear etc etc etc. I know all of that. But again, that's not what was shown. That she was actively thinking that. Maybe she still was, but yeah. That's... not very optimistic/positive/I am free still.

It's still an interesting one to consider I think, Odysseus/Penelope. (or a reverse of it? He leaves voluntarily but cannot come back?).

I don't have a conclusion btw. i'm just having fun analysing stuff, and theorizing. Yes i am having fun even with my criticism. except when i end up realizing how badly they potentially messed up timebomb/Ekko. That one is not fun but I an a big proponent and supporter of saying "fuck canon" so... fuck canon.

And i really need to dig into the Moby dick for timebomb and the matter of pespective. is she his moby dick? Is she a crow with his owl (Zaun's royalty)? Is she Scylla? Is she actually the wind gods/Janna here? Is she a victim too, instead of this monster dragging him down? so is she just his Eurydice then? Is she Odysseus and he Penelope? What is she to him, what should he do, depends on the perspective. SO MUCH TO EXPLORE and think about.

Oh yeah also : that gives us the four elements btw. Water sea drowning, fire that twice acts as a burning of the past life.

the teee (earth) but dare i say... the mines. The mines are the esrth. Going in the depth of zaun, the mine where they find the shed and Vander.

And the air wind.

and it is super interesting how they couple in what they do. Water/fire that are opposites here serve the same function. Whilst air and earth we could say do also serve the same function (hope, climbing up, being better, etc.).

if i had known my studying of literature at uni would lead to that and not the phd I had envisioned 😅

to think I could be actually doing said phd rn if a terrible burn out and chronic illnesses hadn't hit me years ago... Not to diminish media analysis like this one, but when i struggle to write a post like that that isn't a very serious formatted academic analysis, then think of what i could accomplish before in term of academic level stuff, and could have had been doing instead if not for losing at the genetic lottery...

Yeah. anyway. Won't change anything to feel bad about it. And I am glad I can still do the stuff I can still do.

quick edit : I won't edit this, too long and i am getting tired of it. But I might write follow ups to re explain stuff or elaborate or if my thoughts have progressed further as I am actively thinking about all that, if I realized i didn't say something properly, or if i find the courage to rewrite to separate the pure analysis from the rest, etc.

[iamhereinthebg]

Let's talk about the clock keepers boundary!

(warning: spoilers until chapter 124!!)

I've had some guess on where they could be from so let's look at what we have in the manga for now. I will keep things on surface level for the most part but it's just some things I noticed!

The first mention of the town is in chapter 111, where we finally have a view on their boundary.

A lot of fans already guessed from their clothes that they were not from Japan, this panel definitely confirms it and even points more precizely to a European country, mostly Western Europe. And also a country where Winter with snow exist.

It's also not an English speaking country, since Akane cannot understand the language and we know he has english classes at school.

Now there are several things we can look at to have more clues!

First, the architecture.

This type of house is called Timbered framed houses. It’s important to note that the roofs on those houses are really really sharp here. Which means theywere built for snow, so it can slide off the roofs more easily. The trees are also pines, something that can be found in a lot of Europe. (wood was needed to be able to create houses made of wood/with visible Framework( Little note: I know Italy was a guess for a lot of person because of the link to Pinocchio, but Italy main material for houses is stone not wood. And it is also not known for its winter.)

Here we can also see bricks which is something more associated to countries like Germany, Belgium or the Nertherlands, we don't have the colors so we can't guess from which minerals it was made for now.

But we have even more informations when we look at chapter 124!

The bridge and tower may be inspired by a fortified city, something that you could find A LOT in Western Europe during the middle age, not a lot of cities still have their entire walls but you can still see it if you go into old medieval towns. We can also see something that looks like a Belfry on several panels. Towers used mostly to indicate each passing hour of the day (may be a campanile or a bell tower (the difference is wether it's linked to religion or not basically)

Second! Let's do a little bit of clock making history!

I won't go into details, but there are some countries to point for this. England, The Netherlands and Germany. We already took out England before and we can easily erase Nertherlands from the list with the next step (my favorite one).

The food! I already had my suspicions confirmed with this bonus art from volume 22.

First of all, they have tea which is not something that was in Europe before the XVII century. But let's look at the sweets they have here.

Chocolates which look close to Belgian chocolate ( I say Belgian but other countries' chocolate is pretty close to it) , Christstollen Cake, and Spiztbuden.

We have even more to look at with the new chapter! And they confirm that it's indeed a stollen cake.

With all these foods it's now pretty obvious which area the clock keepers are inspired from.

Stollen cakes are German cakes, ginger cookies are from Germany too. I will also add that there is a chance the crescent moon cookies are VanilleKipferl. We have another panel showing Sausages and bread. Only the Almond is something not typical from Germany but which clearly was all over Western Europe with trades.

Their city already looked like the 'perfect christmas city' you can see in movies, inspired by German culture. And they also mention Mulled Wine which is THE beverage to take in any chritmas market in Europe.

Chritmas markets are inspired and coming from Germany first, but I wanna point something more.

My main guess was, Nuremberg, the city where the ancestor of the pocket watch was created, the Nuremberg Egg. It's also a Fortified city and it has forests around it. It's also known for its Ginger cookies!

So Germany would be a great pic, but the more I think about it the more I can also see the link to another region: Alsace.

Alsace is a region from France right now BUT it's a mixt of german and french culture (I will not make a history lesson but it is a place that always switched between France and Germany basically, now it's French).

All the food mentionned before are also made in the Alsace region!

It's situated in the Vosges, a chain of mountains known to have a lot of forets of pines and which is known to have villages like this:

Which were also the main inspirations for movies like Howl's moving castle for example. You can see the similarities between the artchitectures

The first ever Chritmas Market was in Strasbourg, the capital of Alsace, when it was German and it spread accross Europe after.

I will now look at something I usually don't do because I exclude Aus from canon but it's just a funny thing to point out.

This au shows a snow town inspired by ginger bread houses. I just find it funny because Aoi is shown as a baker, with bread (which are not baguette I think, it's way larger here) but with some croissant on her table (disclaimer: Croissant are not french at first, this form here is, but it's from Austria otherwise) And Kako clearly has something similar to a Wine bottle in his hands. This au is the only one featuring them, was given with their volumes and the vibes are really similar to their boundary.

I would say no matter what it's definitely closer to German culture but I wanted to point out this region which is known for it's Christmas season and its typical houses.

I will mostly say that it's an inspiration from this region of Europe, I don't know if a real country is the reference for it since we don't even know where tbhk takes place, but it's always funny to look at those things :DD

Little bonus:

In a more messy note, the clothes. I put them at the end because besides their hats, I had no idea how to describe it, since it seems pretty typical of what people could wear in winter.

I did the research in the other way, to look for German and Alsacian clothing to see if it match and it kinda does but I don't think it's speficific to this region. The girls wear classic white Charlotte and big clothes with layers for Winter.

The clock keepers clothes are different, it looks like a mixt of Japanese and western European clothing (especially from england).

Their main outfits for Akane and Kako really just look like a typical waistcoast/costume you can find in the XIXth century in Europe and Mirai's seems more inspired by a mixt of a Kimono with several layers(she also has sandals and frills) and a coat? The little knots Kako and Akane have on their coats look like something inspired from Mizuhiki knots too (I actually saw a costume with those exact same knots in a museum but I didn't take a picture rip)

So I would say they probably changed slowly their attire when they arrived in Japan, we don't know since how many times they are here, but we know that what is happening in the deeper place of the boundary is linked to memories previous to their arrival. According to their origin I think we can say that it's pretty sure they arrived after the Meiji/during the Meiji Era in Japan (1868/1912), since it's a this time Japan mostly imported Western culture (for clothing here, the first contact was before this. And note: it was mostly rich people who dressed like this). And If we look at some others dates like the things they are eating, used to have or even their clothes, I would say it's more probably the Meiji Era and not in the XVs.

Another note is that their clocks have the numbers written in japanese on it (in the og version but it maye just be so it's readable for the japanese readers? idk if it's a choice or not).

I haven't searched much on their clothes but it was still something I wanted to note here ^^

[unnonexistence]

i get to work with time series data at work & im excited about it

[galacticlamps]

very minor thing I still definitely deserve a medal for:

being raised catholic, and now as an adult repeatedly falling in love with characters that fandoms like to declare catholic, but still managing to reject those headcanons because at heart I'm too much of a stickler for accurate analysis to get behind them when i know the person in question is really meant to be anglican/episcopalian/whatever other flavor of christian

i am being, as the poets say, so brave about it

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

ae recently learned that it’s likely that the impact of the meteor itself is not what wiped out the dinosaurs, but rather the meteor essentially disintegrating immediately and polluting the air that killed them

[lord-squiggletits]

I know there are as many religious good guys as there are religious bad guys in IDW, but I think I pinned down the reason why it feels like the most prominent religious figures are all bad guys and it's pretty much due to the worldbuilding.

Maybe my memory of the comics is just really bad, but the religious worldbuilding in IDW is....kind of trash honestly. I'm not sure there's a single religion or religious custom that doesn't exist solely to further the plot along. Like, it's one thing for the Camiens to worship the Primes and that causes a lot of stuff in exRID/OP, but what does that worship actually look like? What are their holidays, customs, religious texts? What about "spectralism" which basically the only thing we know about is the Festival of the Lost Light and some hippie color coding and aura shit? Like sure, there are characters who are religious and their beliefs come into play sometimes, but it honestly feels (especially in MTMTE) more like their religiousness only exists when it's relevant to the plot and it's just kinda. Disappointing eh. Lacking in worldbuilding. Plus the more religious a character is the more it's written as their entire personality and the driving force making them evil so it just kinda made me cringe to read honestly.

[midwesternfields]

BOOK REVIEW 📖

This is the one for February – I was reminded of this book half way through the month and decided to reread it again because I couldn't remember how it ended; plus a short mystery is always nice to read (side note: this ended up as an ebook read bc I couldn't remember where in my storage boxes I have my copy – it's in storage because it's a paperback edition and old and I don't want it to die on me yet lol)

[oblique-lane]

Spy tf2 and his identity

Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)

What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.

At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?

What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?

For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?

While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?

Let's start from the beginning.

Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?

Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.

The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.

Well, probably because he really does not.

Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.

At least, not those who were born into wealth.

Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.

(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)

Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.

If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.

So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.

Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?

Oh yeah. The Great Depression.

See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.

Unavoidably, it leads to crime.

Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.

In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.

And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?

His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.

It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.

[mandalhoerian]

Repost because tumblr's tags were broken yesterday and it ate my post up 😞 Spoilers and translation notes for Rafayel's intertidal zone & analysis because it kinda floored me, I was just as a blank page as he was throughout this. I had to watch it like 5 times to understand what the story was saying and dig into chinese and japanese versions of this to piece together what was really happening. It may be my idiot brain not getting it and maybe it was like the easiest thing to understand for you but. Yeah. I may be just dumb LMFAO AND!!!! There's also a theory of mine into how Rafayel is actually able to read mc's mind/wishes through their lemurian bond, so stay tuned for that I guess

EDIT: correcting some transcriptions of chinese characters and the translations. sorry about that! google couldn't transcribe it correctly. for clarity's sake i will also include original screenshots. please tell me if anything is wrong!

EDIT 2: Check out part 2 to this as well for stuff I missed!

EDIT 3: An Abysswalker connection I found

EDIT 4: Debunking the myths of non-consent & Rafayel hurting MC in the spicy scene

So Rafayel’s whole deal in this memory, I believe, is dependency. Like, too much intensity, too much need, too much fear -- about scaring her off, about what he sees himself possibly becoming in the future, overall just being too reliant on mc and getting scared by it.

Let's begin with this massive fear of being a taker, not just in the “I’m stealing someone’s fries” way, but in this existential, soul-deep kind of way where he’s terrified of turning everything he loves into something he exploits out of demand for his art. And yeah, it’s sad when you first hear him say it, but it’s also really interesting when you look at how this all ties into his relationship with MC and his inspiration source drying up because of her.

Before Rafayel became an artist, he looked at the world in this super pure, wholesome way. Sceneries and nature were just there, things to admire and feel awe over without needing to do anything about it. Like, imagine standing at the edge of a desert, looking at a sea that’s drying up. Sure, it’s tragic, but it’s also kind of beautiful in a raw, heartbreaking way. That’s how Rafayel saw things, he could appreciate them without feeling like he had to do anything.

But then Rafayel started creating, and suddenly, sceneries weren’t just sceneries anymore. They became inspiration. He wasn’t just admiring beauty, he was extracting something from it, its meaning, its pain, its soul, to turn into art for other people. And that made him feel all kinds of icky, because now he wasn’t just looking at the drying sea. He was taking from it. Just as he's using his people's pain in his art as well, that's also a thing.

Now let’s talk about MC. Rafayel loves her like he used to love those sceneries,,, in this pure, untainted way. There's a parallel here. But here’s the kicker, he’s not the same guy who can just admire something and leave it untouched anymore.

And suddenly, this is no longer only about losing inspiration for him.

This happens after he and MC get together, and it’s like all the pain and anguish that used to fuel his creativity just.. ... dries up. He can’t find that spark anymore because now his life is surrounded by love instead of suffering. In fact, his inspiration starts coming from her and it's starting to clash with how he makes art. In the phone call, he seeks her out and says he needs her so bad and she only needs to talk to help him out. This is the first wink wink nod nod of the story.

So what does Rafayel do? He goes on this big, dramatic trip to "find inspiration" (or at least his muse), but it’s not just about his art. He’s not just looking for inspiration, he’s trying to figure out how to be less dependent on her and becoming increasingly more restless over this. The temparature and physical discomfort is making things worse, he's anxiously overthinking, and imagine trying to fight this and the longest art block as of late off when all you want to do is indulge in this special person and be comforted like a lap cat all day every day.

He understands that if he lets himself indulge without restraint, one day his love for mc will turn into pure need. He’ll become more and more greedy, and he doesn’t want that and is afraid of being abandoned because of that growing neediness and dependency.

This is in relation to his art, because as @/dat-silvers-girl put in the comments, he's struggling with "the genuine fear of not being able to enjoy anything in life because all you're thinking about how to use it (as an artist)" . what if he starts doing this to her? to their love and relationship? take from her, and become someone who only takes in every area of life -- like someone who only exploits things by extracting what he feels about them to use it for his art. he's afraid of that, he doesn't like that and possibly doesn't like himself who does it. so why should she? she would leave him for sure, in his head, that's a solid reason to.

The first time around he brings up his anxiety about MC leaving him out of the inner realization of his dependency, the possibility of just what he can become, and fear of abandonment. she effortlessly soothes his worries. It's heavily implied they did it afterwards and after hearing "her life has already been consumed by him" he tweaked out a little bit and his "obsession" seeped through.

After it fades to black, he says ほら……僕もとっくに……君に侵食されてしまっているんだ…… which means "See... I've already been completely consumed by you too" in Japanese instead of the life being made a chaotic mess localization. While I think MC's line was jokey and lighthearted, I don't think this man is joking at all. Rafayel didn't say his life was consumed by her as well, he said HE was consumed. Ouh.

This took the edge off from him for a while but they hadn't gotten to the root of the problem yet, so he was back to square one after the memorial hall, because remember, he's trying to find inspiration as an act of making this dependency of his better. Pain and suffering are all around him here, which his inspiration feeds off of. The dried up ocean he could hear weakening, the skeleton of the whale, the burden of his people and homeland more prominent than before. And what does MC do? Tear through the perspective of pain and introduce a hopeful alternative, "Isn't it a surprise to see an ocean in the middle of the desert?"

This is a place that gave Rafayel the height of helplessness and suffering when he visited by himself before despite momentarily being hopeful after the locals told him such a place existed. But now, she was there to comfort him through his loneliness and pain, hug him, and give him hope yet again. He brings up how he wanted to come here with the most important person to him when he was still hopeful about it before consumed by the pain of it all, and that wish has been granted. That moment has to be so powerful for Rafayel. Literally light at the end of the tunnel.

It had me reeling that he just sat in the car after all that, staring at her for god knows how long until she woke up. He was probably overthinking again, but my interpretation that it was heavily emotional for him (it could have meant so little for MC but the world for him, she doesn't even know) and he wanted to be in that moment with her, just feel and look without restraint. Indulge a little. (I can just imagine him going just a little bit more, I'll go after she wakes up.) And like. His eyes are shining in the darkness is the description here. Perhaps he was feeling so much here. So much love. So much happiness. And he's about to go in for a kiss (heavy breathing and everything) after that, but holds himself back and actively has to pry himself away. He's feeling the neediness again.

That’s why he makes an effort to actively wean himself off and says he'll be okay on his own. What he says to her after MC is like "spoiling him" being all "hey you're sick maybe don't go? or let's go together?" (which is NOT helping Rafayel at all) is even more meaningful in Japanese and I didn't know why they left out this context, but the rearranged line would be "Do you want me to become a sea creature beached on the sand after the sea recedes, unable to breathe on my own ever again?"

Yeah. YEAH. This is about dependency. (He's saying don't coddle me I'll literally become that wolf tearing his shirt meme 😭)

So of course his stubbornness and anxiety force him to do things without MC and distance himself, he can do it. He’s determined to prove to himself that he can endure it on his own.

I also feel like part of the reason he insisted on going to the salon alone is that he’s still worried mc might come to dislike the version of him who's someone he's so sure she will leave, who isn't perfect and he hides behind the persona he's put up just for her. If he truly becomes addicted to her and shows her everything/his true self, and she ends up leaving him, it would completely break him. He's trying to be like "im so normal about her haha" but he's so not normal about her at all. He's literally obsessed I feel like, and perhaps this is him fighting it knowing it's not healthy.

and OOOH about why he ends up coming back from the salon all hot and bothered.

I have strong context that she flicked the bean in there after he left her high and dry in the car ("hot water washes away the stickiness from my body and his stifled breaths still echo in my ears, enveloping me along with the steam in the bathroom. The warmth from his fingertips lingers in the places where he touched me..." is the english. however, in chinese, it goes "熱水洗去身上的黏膩，壓抑的喘息迴盪在我耳畔，和浴室裡氤氳的水氣一起包裹著我." stating "the suppressed breathing" -- which doesn't have any possessive adjectives when I translated it on google and later explicitly asked chatgpt if it had any his/my adjectives involved, just to be sure. it said no but i'd like it if a real chinese speaking person could give their input on this !!! PLEASE DONT LEAVE ME WITH CHATGPT

so um. if the context is in fact the case that he heard her masturbating to him, the intensity with which he attacked her would be normal, I think 😭

I have belief that MC unconsciously shatters his "training himself to be without her" determination through their bond. She just keeps thinking about him the entire time. about him reading her thoughts, though. we still don't know all about the lemurian bond they share. I’d say it grants him some sort of mind/heart reading ability or connects their minds together (when she was thinking about whether she should hug him, he answered “yes”).

At the salon, I imagine Rafayel was already thinking about her like crazy. Then he realized, or perhaps, "heard" she was still worrying about him and thinking of him (as much he thought about her) and decided to go back. Rafayel probably felt that suppressing himself was only making her more anxious and unsettled. She's thinking all about him, unconsciously calling to him to come to her, she didn't want to let him go at all, wanted to go with him, etc...

but even if it was his own decision and no mind reading was involved... uh. If you ask me. He did quite literally hear her after coming back. That's also something that might make him think she wants him as much as he wants her, which made his self-restraint utterly meaningless from the start.

Disregarding this theory of mine proven wrong until a Chinese speaker helps me out here, MC returned to Rafayel's room. A translation omission happened here from what I saw. There are no possessive adjectives in the Chinese text about the room she returns to, and the Japanese one states she returned to the guest room (doesn't specify which one. She was also able to enter Rafayel's room without needing to knock before.)

so uh. she went into rafayel's room y'all. the line "this is my room, you're the one who walked in here" MAKES SO MUCH MORE SENSE. (SO LIKE. NOT ONLY DID SHE GO INTO HIS ROOM, SHE FLICKED THE BEAN THERE AND HE POSSIBLY HEARD IT. SHE'S MORE OF A FREAK THAN HE IS, I UNDERSTAND WHY HE LET GO AFTER THAT LMFAO)

I don't put it past him to get worked up after he finds her in his room post-bath even without my theory lmfao (idk why they put her in a dress when she should be in a bathrobe or something 😭)

His conclusion at the end of this memory that "he finds inspiration in pain and the art of creation is a part of his life. mc made him realize love and art are so alike. even if they don't complete him but burn him instead he wants them (love and art) with every fiber of his being" and MC says she doesn't like that, rightfully so.

So like. There's SO MUCH to unpack in here.

When Rafayel says he finds inspiration in pain and that creation is a part of his life, he’s admitting something raw and essential about himself: pain isn’t just a byproduct of his art, it’s intrinsic to it. For Rafayel, pain and art are intertwined in a way that’s almost inseparable. It’s like his muse isn’t just beauty, but beauty that hurts.

But then he takes this further by connecting art to love. He’s realized that both art and love demand the same from him: vulnerability, passion, and sometimes suffering. They don’t necessarily complete him (he’s not romanticizing them as salvation), but they burn him, wear him down, consume him (coincidentally, this is something he said to MC in the JP dub of this memory, that she consumes him), but also give him life. And for Rafayel, that’s the crux, even if they burn him, he wants them with every fiber of his being.

This is such a Rafayel thing to say. It’s dramatic, it’s tortured, but it’s also deeply SUBTLE. He doesn't spell all of these out, mind you, I got a headache trying to understand him. Or I'm just slow, I don't know. It shows how much he values creation and connection, even if they come at a cost.

MC, on the other hand, challenges this perspective. When she says she doesn’t like that he views love and art as things that burn him, she’s pushing back against the idea that suffering is a necessary part of creation, or love. MC doesn’t want Rafayel to see their relationship as something that requires him to hurt. She’s telling him, “You don’t have to destroy yourself to love me.”

When MC says, “You’ll never have to burn for me,” she’s giving Rafayel an alternative to his destructive mindset. She’s saying that love doesn’t have to hurt, that their relationship can exist without him sacrificing himself on the altar of passion. It’s a refusal to let Rafayel romanticize pain as the price of love.

And I love that Rafayel goes, "Will you help me look for other parts in life outside of pain?" in response. This is NOT about art or inspiration anymore, and the way the dialogue is written is just AUGH. Again I had to rewatch this over and over again for the nuances and subtext.

I love MC's response, she knew exactly what to say. “I’ll always be the one who walks along the shore with you. Of course, diving into the sea bed is fine too. If it can snow in the desert, there will be a day when the ocean returns.”

MC’s response is layered with metaphors, but at its core, it’s about unwavering support and hope::

Walking along the shore: This represents safety and companionship. MC is saying she’ll be with Rafayel in the calm, in the moments where they’re just observing life without diving into its depths. She’ll be his steady presence, his grounding force.

Diving into the sea bed: This is an acknowledgment that life and love sometimes require going deeper and they may go through hardships, into the unknown, the murky, the challenging. MC isn’t afraid of this, she’s willing to go there with him too.

Snow in the desert and the ocean’s return: This is a symbol of hope and transformation beyond being a nod to The Sea of Golden Sand. Snow in the desert seems impossible, just like the idea of Rafayel finding inspiration outside of pain might feel impossible to him. But MC believes in the extraordinary, in change, and in the possibility that beauty and creation can exist outside of suffering.

Her words are a promise: she’s willing to stand by him, to face the unknown together, and to hold onto the belief that a new way of seeing the world is possible.

And Rafayel LOWKEY PROPOSES IN RETURN.

By saying “let’s watch the sea together,” he’s accepting MC’s offer of companionship and hope in the long run. He’s recognizing that life doesn’t have to be about diving into the depths alone, it can be about sharing the experience with someone else, even if it’s just standing on the shore and watching.

“Every sea”: This phrase is key. Rafayel isn’t just committing to one kind of life or one kind of inspiration, he’s opening himself up to all possibilities. Watching every sea means embracing all facets of life, whether they’re calm or turbulent, painful or beautiful. It’s a marriage proposal declaration that he’s ready to explore the world beyond pain, with MC by his side.

So. I love that his inspiration returns after his freak is accepted by MC because he literally feels the acceptance through the bond.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk. This memory DRAINED me. They were just supposed to bang what the fuck happened. Why did I have to go treasure hunting to find what was going on in this card. anyway...

[astrocafecoffee]

Placements I like the most ~

Venus in Capricorn: Venus in Capricorn is known for taking life seriously, but they also have a fantastic ability to laugh at life's minor failures, particularly their own. If something goes wrong, their reaction is often more, “Well, that was expected,” followed by a chuckle. It’s like they’ve already calculated the odds of success and know that it’s okay to laugh off the imperfections.

Libra moon : When arguments or tension happen, a Libra Moon might not react immediately. They prefer to process their emotions and figure out what everyone else thinks first. By the time they express their thoughts, the conflict might already be over, and they’ll come in with, “Okay, so here’s my analysis of everything… and I think we should compromise.” Their late-but-thoughtful take is often both hilarious and surprisingly insightful.

Virgo sun:Virgo Suns can be surprisingly adventurous with food, even though they come off as practical and "healthy" eaters. They love trying out new food trends.they love recommending obscure restaurants or dishes no one else has heard of. You might not expect a Virgo Sun to be a connoisseur of anything, but food? They know their stuff.

Mercury in 10th house/mercury in Capricorn: They often have a knack for inspiring others, usually in a low-key, almost accidental way. It could be something as simple as giving you the perfect pep talk when you're stressed at work. They’ll calmly explain, “It’s all about managing expectations and breaking down the project into bite-sized pieces.” And suddenly, you feel like you can conquer the world. They don’t try to be a motivational speaker, but their logical, practical advice often has this surprising, uplifting quality. It’s kind of funny how they can turn a simple conversation into a full-on career inspiration session without even realizing they’re doing it.

Uranus in 12th house: They can heal in ways that feel totally unexpected and even a bit unusual. Whether it’s through sudden insights or unconventional methods, Uranus in the 12th house people have the power to help others break free from old patterns or traumas. They may not even realize they’re doing this at first, but they have an innate ability to help others shift their perspective in profound ways,sometimes without ever saying a word. They might just show up with an idea or suggestion that completely changes someone’s outlook on life.

Cancer moon : Cancer Moons are incredibly intuitive about people’s emotional states, but they tend to pick up on subtle, less obvious cues. They might be able to sense if someone’s having a bad day just by the tone of their voice or the way they hold themselves. However, the funny part is that they might not always verbalize their empathy. They might just quietly offer a cup of tea, a hug, or a homemade treat as their way of saying, "I get it." It’s their way of giving comfort without making a big deal out of it.

Aquarius rising/Sun : While Aquarius risings are known to be social, they do it on their own terms. You might catch them hanging out in a crowd of people but also deeply absorbed in a conversation with just one person about an entirely random topic . They can be surprisingly selective about who they connect with, preferring people who stimulate their intellect or share their unconventional interests. They might be socially active but with their own peculiar style, sometimes standing apart from the crowd but still very much part of the scene.

[lalaithion]

Fundamentally I believe that writing about the rich and varied human existence is so important, and authors who do this end up seeming prescient in ways that naive analysis often rejects.

Two examples. First; a lot of people ship Frodo/Sam or Legolas/Gimli (or more obscure gay ships like Maedhros/Fingon), and some people say stuff like “well, Tolkien was catholic, he clearly didn’t intend for these characters to be gay.” But Tolkien himself says that he doesn’t write Christian allegory, in fact he despises all allegory. What he does is write about the rich and varied human existence, and when he did so he drew on the experiences of the likely closeted gay and bisexual men he had met over his life! And he synthesized this as just a way people behave, not as ‘representation’ but reality. And we can recognize that while in the early twentieth century, the 15% of people that identify as bisexual in the current generation (gen Z) would likely have married people of the opposite gender, that doesn’t mean they didn’t have same-gender relationships that had romantic elements even if they were never consummated.

A second example; in Tamora Pierce’s the Song of the Lioness Quartet, Alanna, the main character, dresses as a boy and trains to be a knight. As she grows up, she has to re-learn to connect with her femininity in secret with the few people who know who she is (thus making her a paradoxically-apt role model for both trans men and trans women, depending on which parts of the narrative one projects oneself onto). But Alanna never feels truly comfortable as a woman, either, and constantly has to assert both her masculinity and femininity to different people once she becomes a knight and reveals the secret. Tamora Pierce has since stated that if Alanna were born in the modern day, she would likely identify as genderfluid. But these books were written in the 1980s, and while there were people in that time period who were exploring the language of nonbinary and genderfluid identities, it wasn’t really a widespread notion, and while I can’t be sure Tamora Pierce didn’t encounter that language I sort of doubt Alanna was intended from the beginning to fit that identity. Instead, Pierce wrote a character based on the people she knew in life, who perhaps uncomfortably chafed at their assigned gender, and wrote a character who really believably would be genderfluid today, despite (plausibly) not knowing what ‘genderfluid’ was!

And I think that’s beautiful. There’s not really a point to this but just to highlight a perspective in literary analysis that you can lose if you focus too much on the biographical details of the author.

[avelera]

Analysis: Why Jayce broke up with Mel in Arcane 2.08

Since the finale episodes of Arcane dropped this morning, I've been going back and re-watching some of my favorite scenes, and I was struck by Jayce breaking up with Mel.

First of all, yeah, he clearly does break up with her, though I missed how formally he does so on my first watch-through. He does it in the Council chamber, just before Viktor attacks. But since they get interrupted, he finishes breaking up with her (after checking in with her) on the balcony later.

But what really struck me about the breakup wasn't in those scenes, but actually back in 2.07, when Jayce is alone in cavern in the darkest timeline. I definitely didn't catch on the first viewing that this is where he chose to break up with her.

In the background, you can hear Jayce in the depths of his despair and solitude starts going over in his mind all the steps that led him to where he is.

Here are some of the quotes he hears:

"I never asked for this!" - Himself to Viktor, trying to justify his actions up to that point just before Viktor leaves him.

"This research is everything, my whole life," a quote from one of his first conversations with Viktor but, more importantly, it establishes Jayce's entire raison d'etre up to that point. Hextech research was his life.

"He was my mentor, Mel, and I betrayed him," obviously is Jayce discussing the coup d'etat against Heimerdinger he orchestrated to save Viktor, but it was with Mel's assistance and urging.

"You must destroy it. It corrupts. Consumes." A quote from Heimerdinger, warning against Hextech. Which must feel especially prescient now that Jayce is stuff in the evil bombed-out future where Hextech destroyed the world.

"I was trying to create magic." Jayce to the Council to defend his Hextech research and save himself from banishment, but, he only mentioned magic at Mel's goading, which I would guess he's beginning to recognize now for what it was in retrospect.

"It's your time now, Jayce." Mel, part of her goading of Jayce into advancing Hextech research and his political career.

"Perhaps it's time for the era of magic." Mel's words on the night she saw Hextech for the first time, after helping Jayce and Viktor break into Heimerdinger's lab.

"You must destroy it." Heimerdinger about the Hexcore, again, probably feeling pretty prescient right now with Jayce literally in the pit of despair in a the evil Hextech future.

Finally, while looking out over the fire while clearly going nearly insane from the isolation, Jayce begins to hallucinate seeing Mel. But then, her image in the fire gives way to Viktor's.

The decision has been made there. It's not just Jayce reflecting on his two closest loved ones (as I thought the first time), rather, it is the moment Jayce makes his decision: he is picking Viktor over Mel. He has decided that the reason he is here in this terrible place is because of Mel, not Viktor. He is choosing his partner, going back to what they had before she became involved in their life. His new course is set.

Now, I want to preface the next part by saying I love Mel, she's a fascinating character, and though I ship Jayvik I also ship/shipped MelJayVik, so this isn't coming from a place of bias. I'm just analyzing the material when I say these flashbacks were Jayce rearranging the narrative in his head and realizing Mel's been manipulating and goading him in his pursuit of Hextech.

Given where he is when this is happening: starving, freezing, in pain, alone for weeks if not months in a stone box, slowly going insane, surrounded by the burnt corpses of people destroyed by Hextech, I'd say... yeah. His need for someone to blame is pretty understandable. He even starts whispering, "No!" in a panic at the memories in response to what she says in his mind.

So when we get to the Council chamber in the main timeline in 2.08, I'd argue that Jayce is spoiling for a fight. He's had months of agony to decide things are over with Mel and that he's angry at her. He wants to blame her for what happened to Viktor, for what happened to him, and he's in pain and he wants to lash out. The relationship is definitely over.

But then Mel is in pain too. And Viktor shows up, with his own autonomy, showing that they all had their shitty parts to play in this drama.

The attack by Viktor adds another element, Jayce was probably also mourning that he had to shoot Viktor at that point, another thing that was painful and made him want to lash out and blame others for this horrible place he's in emotionally and the horrific place he's been in physically until recently.

It's only after Viktor's attack though that Jayce realizes that this situation is complex, it's not all Mel's fault. It would be easier to just pin all the blame on Mel and make Jayce and Viktor her victims, but Viktor shows to him that he has his own agency and Jayce needs to be clear-eyed going forward about who he is saving, because it's not "Mel's victim". Viktor is his own person.

Jayce also remembers some of the care he once had for Mel when he catches her before she falls (in a tender moment I mistook for a full reconciliation between them the first time but no, it's just him remembering he cares for her wellbeing). Jayce can't trust her anymore, after realizing just how adept she was at manipulating him without his realizing, but he does still care for her as a person. And he's cooled off enough to address the pain she is clearly carrying.

(I admit, I do love this moment of him calling himself an ass, because I adore Jayce but it's a lovely beat of self awareness and really shows his growth as a person that he can say this to someone that just hours before he was squaring up to fight against and blame for all his misfortunes.)

But anyway, the moments you really see that it's over between Mel and Jayce:

When he doesn't explain to her what happened to him. That's not for her to know anymore. He's decided that they're not together or intimate anymore. And he's probably still hurting from realizing how she's used what he told her in the past to encourage/manipulate him to her own ends and therefore wary of sharing. This is also a reason for the breakup: he can't share the immense pain he's been in because he can't trust her anymore, and he knows it. It's over.

In the scene on the balcony when he turns away from her instead of towards her before offering his advice. Jayce is very touchy-feely, he always offers physical comfort to his loved ones. But there, he deliberately turns away instead of taking her in his arms and comforting her. Again: it's over between them. But he still respects her. So he reminds her of how indomitable she is, along with offering the slight backhanded compliment born of his distrust for her: she's never the passenger, she is always the one in control. He knows, because he's realized she used to control him.

I've mentioned in other meta that this season deals in a lot of comeuppance for events in S1, and this is arguably Mel's. She'll be ok, she's got magical sun powers and she's the head of a powerful house now. But she doesn't get to keep Jayce in her life as her lover anymore after what she did, because she did manipulate him, even if she had good intentions mixed with the self-interested ones.

The trust is simply gone now. But he cares for her and wishes her well, so, I'd argue they parted on as good of terms as could be done.

[justlemmeadoreyou]

rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x

nerd!y/n)

summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining

words: 6.1k

warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.

Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"

There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 

"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.

Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."

A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.

"What's the project, Millers?"

The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."

Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 

"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."

Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.

"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.

"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.

"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."

Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."

Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.

The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.

"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"

Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."

He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."

Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.

 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."

Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."

"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."

With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.

Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.

Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 

And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.

"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 

"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."

Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"

Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."

The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?

Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.

And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.

At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 

On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.

"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 

The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.

The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.

At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.

The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.

"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.

Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."

Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.

For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.

At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.

There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.

"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.

"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 

They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."

A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.

Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 

As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.

In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.

Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"

Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.

Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.

Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.

"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."

Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."

While on Y/N's end...

"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.

"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."

Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...

"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."

That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.

***

Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.

The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.

"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.

The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.

As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.

"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 

The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.

Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.

"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."

Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."

"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."

A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"

Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."

A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.

***

Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.

"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.

Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."

"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."

Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.

A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.

"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.

The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."

"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.

Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.

"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"

"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."

"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"

"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.

"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."

Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.

"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.

That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.

"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.

Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.

"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  

A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  

"Why?"

Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"

"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"

Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.

"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"

"That's not what I-"

"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 

He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"

"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.

A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.

After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"

Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  

"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"

She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."

Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.

"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."

She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"

The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.

Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.

"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"

Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.

"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.

In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."

Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.

"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"

Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?

Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.

"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.

"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"

It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.

"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."

A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.

Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.

They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.

"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.

Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.

Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.

"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."

Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.

It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.

Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"

Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.

"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"

Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.

"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.

The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.

She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

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[ifishouldvanish]

Fashion and Power; Hair and Identity: An Analysis of Olrox in Castlevania Nocturne

So. I've been thinking a lot lately about Olrox's design and how he dresses.

Like we have Drolta who is serving cunt in a totally different, usually wildly anachronistic, outfit every other scene... And we have Alucard still wearing the same tattered, moth-eaten overcoat he was sporting 300 years ago...

And then we have Olrox, whose outfit is very much in keeping with the style we see worn by our model french nobleman, the Marquis:

You can see the similarities between their looks: the stockings and shoes, the cravat, the tall collar, the pleats, the contrasting trims and accents, the highlights that suggest the fabric has a silken/satin sheen.

...But for his first appearance in Boston, he's wearing something similar—but not so flashy. Which makes sense, because a lot of the above details would be too ostentatious for colonial sensibilities and just not as accessible there. His Boston look is very clearly in the same style as Julia's outfit:

The boots with the dramatic cuffs, the wide lapels, the longer coat, the way the trims and accents are much more subtle, and the lack of that satin sheen we see in the French outfits.

I point this stuff out because it tells us that not only does Olrox dress well, but he dresses according to what is in fashion around him. He's not like Drolta, expressing himself by wearing whatever the fuck he wants—nor is he like Alucard, still dressing the way a past version of himself once did, existing sort of outside of time. That Olrox has two subtly different outfits in the span of ten years seems to indicate that this is a man who speaks the language of fashion, who understands the role it plays in society, and how it is used to assert power for oneself in the right contexts.

I've seen the take a few times of like, "Olrox is probably itching to take off those stuffy white people clothes" or whatever and... I can't say that I agree. I get the sense that he enjoys not just wearing fine clothes, but dressing in a way that signals to the people around him: "Do not presume that you are better than me". It serves as a form of armor, a safety blanket, a way to protect himself and assert the power he fears he will be denied otherwise.

I've said this before but like... his dialogue in his scenes with Drolta and Erzsebet is positively laden with these sort of subtle, calculated assertions or denials of power. From the moment he first arrives in Machecoul, he refuses Vaublanc's escort, thus refusing to engage on the terms they are trying to set for his visit: you are not my host, I am not dependent on you, I am here acting on my own interests and not to answer to your beck and call. He speaks carefully, politely, and hides his true feelings behind a façade of respectability. Saying all the things they want to hear, but wearing none of it on his face, in his eyes, in his tone of voice. He's playing a part, playing the game, and playing it well—all the while hiding his true intentions and dodging questions he doesn't want to answer.

That Olrox is such a careful, eloquent speaker can be read as a quintessentially 'Aztec' thing: the Nahuatl language is very full of metaphor, the nobility spoke a different dialect that distinguished them from the rest of society, and the ability to speak beautifully and wisely is something that was regarded very highly. Furthermore, the words we have on record that Motēuczōmah Xocoyotzin said to Cortés and that the Spanish would later use to claim the Mexica thought Cortés was a god, were probably more like... sarcasm. You've heard of malicious compliance; the Mexica were apparently fond of malicious politeness: over the top flattery meant to mock rather than praise. Which is exactly the vibe Olrox gives off in his exchanges with Erzsebet. ("Yes, charmed to meet you", "Flattered, for a god to have heard of me," "As you well know, I both admire and worship you, goddess," etc.)

I think his manner of dress functions as an extension of this.

While Olrox's clothing bears like, zero resemblance whatsoever to how men styled themselves in the Mexica empire (Fantastic references by Daniel Parada on ArtStation), the Mexica did have strict sumptuary laws about which classes of people could wear which types of clothes/colors/fabrics/jewelry/hairstyles. Maybe he was a commoner who had to wear clothes out of rough maguey fiber and never wants to go back to that. Maybe he was nobility and this is a mentality that he has clung to. Either way, fashion as a language of status, power, and control is something Olrox would understand intimately.

Consider Drolta for a moment: in retrospect, the fact that she has so many outfits and wears whatever she wants to the point of outshining Erzsebet in every scene she's in, was a strong indicator that she was the one with the real power, the one pulling the strings all along.

And here creates a stark contrast: Drolta who asserts her power by dressing in a way that expresses herself in her own visual language, vs Olrox, who is asserting his power in the visual language of his oppressors. Even in Drolta's more conservative outfits, there are a lot of details that are undeniably her own spin on the style; she's playing with these conventions rather than conforming to them. She does not have to play the game and follow the rules in the same way that Olrox does.

So now let's address the elephant in the room:

Olrox's hairstyle is... not at all accurate to how men were wearing their hair in pre-colonial mesoamerica, which was either a sort of shoulder-length bowl cut, shorn on the sides, or long but matted and tied back. (More fantastic references by the same artist on ArtStation) But unlike his clothing, it's also not a style that would be considered fashionable to the European upper class.

I've seen plenty of people theorize that it's meant to resemble a style that would have been appropriate for Mahican men at the time—a way to pay homage to the man he loved. But I don't really think this is the case. For most tribes in the northeast, men either traditionally wear two braids, or in times of war, a 'roach' or 'mohawk' hairstyle: with most of the head shaved except for a single lock, which might be adorned with feathers, beads, and so on. At most, Olrox's single braid could maybe be a nod to this, but not the hairstyle as a whole.

Honestly, I struggle to find any tribes whose men traditionally wear their hair loose, and I'm sure half of this design choice was just the animation team trying to give him some likeness to his voice actor. Zahn McClarnon, who is Hunkpapa-Lakota, often wears his long hair loose—though this hairstyle isn't necessarily characteristic to the Lakota either, who also traditionally wear their hair in 2-3 braids (and which to be fair McClarnon also wears often). The other half of this design choice I'm sure lies in the fact that loose hair lends more flexibility for animators to use it expressively in-frame.

Regardless, any piece of media is in conversation with a contemporary audience. Nowadays, it's pretty common for indigenous men from various cultural traditions to sport long, loose hair. And there's a reason for this: regardless of the specific beliefs and practices around hair from one tribe to another, hair has become a strong marker of cultural identity for the larger, pan- indigenous community, as the forced assimilation of indigenous people often manifested as the cutting off of indigenous men's hair in boarding schools. In this context, to grow out one's hair can be a way of reclaiming a part of their identity which has long been forcibly taken from them.

So... the cultural/historical inaccuracy of Olrox's particular hairstyle aside, we can still look at the significance of hair itself in a broader sense: Hair is important to his character.

I look all the shots we get of Olrox's hair, the way it is used in the frame, used so expressively, and it feels like... yeah. His hair is the piece of himself he refuses to let go of. The clothes can change, he can bow down to Bàthory, get branded, etc. But his hair is an inextricable part of him. In this context, his hair becomes his identity, this stand-in for his true self when all the rest of him (clothes, speech, etc) are functioning instead as a sort of social camouflage.

We normally see Olrox's hair neatly swept behind his shoulders, often with a few strands framing the side of his face. But we get a couple of scenes where this isn't the case:

The first time we get a shot of Olrox's hair kinda spread out and disheveled outside of motion scenes is the cut to him and Mizrak lying in bed after having had sex. Paired with the askew angle of his body contrasted against Mizrak's rigid body, Olrox's hair suggests that he is in a vulnerable state, that he has let his guard down if not physically, then emotionally. He has "let his hair down" and already caught some kind of feelings for Mizrak—while Mizrak spends this scene putting up a giant brick wall.

The majority of Olrox's hair here is also to his left—away from Mizrak. While Olrox has given up some measure of power here, he doesn't need Mizrak to know that yet. He turns his head to see what Mizrak is doing, and receives a clear message: Mizrak is not ready to give up any power or control. Not ready to be vulnerable with him. And so Olrox takes this cue to sit up and let his hair return to its usual, neatly gathered position—thus putting back up a kind of wall of his own as he tries to coax some honesty out of Mizrak through more deliberate means.

In the S1 finale, we see Olrox's hair cover his face just as Machecoul falls to Erzsebet and becomes enshrouded in shadows. One Nahuatl expression, "Axcan mixtlapachmana yn tonatíuh" translates to, "Today the sun has covered its face." This is an expression of grief over the death of a leader or elder, the fall of a city, or the loss of a tradition. Despite the stoicism on his face in this moment, Olrox's hair tells us how he really feels. Something has been lost, and despite the fact that he probably expected it—despite the fact that he has been here before—he is still grieving that loss.

During the S2 branding scene, we see Olrox get on one knee and bow to Erzsebet—thus arriving at the inevitable conclusion of the game he's been playing all season. In his effort to survive by playing along, conceding his pride, his ego, his integrity, his self—he still finds himself trapped. As he accepts his fate, his hair fails over his face in a pattern that resembles the bars of a cage or prison cell. (Interestingly, his dialogue before this is "What did he do?", which makes this whole scene echo his "what crime did you commit?" scene with an imprisoned Edouard in the catacombs back in S1)

In S1, we also got a scene where Olrox bows to Erzsebet, but it's very different from this one. He never gets on his knee, and his hair remains neatly draped over his shoulders. He's conceding a little bit of power, but it's a strategic thing he ultimately does with some degree of willingness. In the S2 bow however, it is because he recognizes he is cornered and no longer has any moves left to make.

In S2E6, we see Olrox waiting at the harbor, preparing to leave to return to the New World. In the previous episode, he asks Mizrak to come with him—who refuses on the grounds that they would spend their lives hiding from Erzsebet. I'm sure @mysteryanimator could write an essay about the framing in this scene and how it makes it so that Olrox is boxed in and can't leave—but his hair is flowing freely. He doesn't have to leave. He has always had a choice: the choice to stay and to fight, and to win true freedom—not just a life on the run, or the sort of double life of having to carefully navigate the social world of others and keep his true self hidden in order to survive.

Now, in the S2 finale, Olrox turns a dying Mizrak into a vampire—but they have an interesting conversation leading up to that moment, and for just about the entirety of this conversation, Olrox's hair is obscuring his face. There is something he is hiding from Mizrak in this scene, something keeping them apart and keeping this conversation from being an open and totally honest one. I've written about what I think this scene foretells, and @mysteryanimator has also done a really thorough shot-for-shot analysis about the visual storytelling happening here, which also touches on the role Olrox's hair plays in this scene.

After Olrox turns Mizrak, we see him lying in bed with his shirt open, exposing his chest and bisecting his heart. The Nahuatl "Omeyolloa" translates to "two hearts", or "the heart is split in two", and refers to an internal conflict. But Olrox's hair is splayed out around him, adding to the sense of vulnerability and being laid bare. While Olrox's hands are folded in his lap with apprehension or restraint, his hair seems to reach in Mizrak's direction in their stead. The hair gives voice to the half of his heart that cares about Mizrak and wants to reach out to him, while the rest is immobilized by the guilt or remorse over what he had to do to keep him.

I've also written a bit of analysis about how this shot mirrors the shot of Julia bleeding out in S1E1: how Olrox's hair is pooled around him the same way her blood was, and how these compositions suggest a sacrificial offering. In this scene, Olrox is offering his hair—his self—up to Mizrak in a gesture of love and penance.

Anyway I could probably go on but I have reached the 10 image limit and this is long enough already. I guess if there's a point to be made with all of this, it's that I don't think the cultural/historical inaccuracy of Olrox's design detracts from his character, but actually does a lot to tell a story about how he has been affected by the forces of colonization, and in what ways his identity as a Mexica man influences the way he now navigates the world around him.

But mostly??? I just love Olrox Castlevania Nocturne and like thinking about him a totally normal amount 🫠🫠🫠

[croquettish]

A Hans Capon Character Analysis

Part 1: Hans' Disillusionment with the Nobility

I went into this wanting to write one thing and then instead ended up writing something different entirely which, after watching it get stupidly long, I decided to split in two. So you can consider this an analysis triptych (they other two are already drafted and ready to go). It's still stupidly long, so I apologize for that.

We know that Hans learned what the platonic ideal of a noble looked like and from that point on did his very best to live up to that ideal. He saw what he was supposed to be even while realizing that he could never live up to that ideal. Hans spends all his time trying to reach for perfection only to find his best only ever being at best shy of where he wants to be. More often, his best is far removed from where he thinks he's meant to be / supposed to be.

This is a theme that comes up several times throughout the game. First, when they're at the inn in Troskowitz where Hans pulls the "excuse" about why he can't do work:

I say "excuse" in quotes because the more time you spend talking to Hans the more it becomes obvious that he actually believes what he's saying. All that stuff about the three states of man is 100% something that he was either taught directly or overheard. It's entirely possible that he once tried to help out the castle staff and was told he wasn't allowed to do that because it went against the will of God. Like I fucking love AUs where Hans and Henry met as kids, but there's a non-zero chance that any attempt to do so, if not simply preempted, would have been shut down by Hanush and the others around him. This is what it means to be a noble, Hans. You're not allowed to do any of these fun things. You have a job to do. You're going to rule Rattay someday and that comes with certain responsibilities.

Here are some choice excerpts from that conversation:

I want to draw special attention here to the role that Hans places himself in, the role of the Bellator, a protector of others. This is what he's allowed to do. Remember that for later.

The other thing I want to draw attention to is this bit:

This isn't just about losing face. This is about the fact that he grew up hearing how wrong it would be for him to do peasant work. This is about the fact that he was told that if he did this, he'd be going against God, and everyone would think less of him for not acting as he's supposed to / required to. Not just in the eyes of God, but in the eyes of society.

Remember how I said that Hans has an idealized notion of nobility? That applies here as well. As the codex entry on the Three States of Man tells us, this is the ideal medieval society, one that is meant to be conducive to peace. That lack of social mobility and freedom that Hans has been chained by his whole life has a purpose: to ensure harmony.

But the script he's so used to, that he clings to so desperately, fails him. Harmony could not be further from his reality. Case in point, at the beginning he tells Henry that he can protect him with his name and therefore his own noble status:

But then, that doesn't turn out to be true. He does everything in his power to declare his noble status, to invoke his name, even places his arm behind his back and attempts to bow in order to properly present himself as nobility to the guards at the Trosky Castle gates—all for naught. No one cares. Hans tries so fucking hard to stick to the script he's been taught his whole life, and no one gives a shit. Svatya makes fun of him, refuses to apologize, and then physically assaults him. Instead of seeing Svatya getting clapped in the pillory, he is.

During the divorce era, he once again tries to grasp for any amount of familiarity from his old life by turning to hunting. It's a noble sport and something he's good at. Camping and going out to hunt, being out in nature over an extended period of time, these are all things he's done before. Things he can comfortably fall back on. If he forgets about the fact that he's alone—no Henry, no horse, no hunting dogs—he can almost pretend he's back in his old life.

Even his attempt at romancing Enneleyn at the wedding fits into this desperate attempt to cleave to his understanding of his noble title. (This is a point that also crops up in this fantastic analysis of Hans' character by @codeword-art, that Hans knows what people think nobles should be like, this including a love for women. This post and the one that preceded it are analyzed in greater depth in part two of this analysis.)

And then even that is torn from him when he's told he'll hang for poaching. Nobility was the one thing that was supposed to act as a get-out-of-jail-free card for him, his guaranteed fallback. Nobility was meant to remove the noose from around his neck... and then failed to do so. What's the point of being a noble if no one believes that you are one? What's the point of being a noble if it only comes with a lack of social skills, a lack of relationships, and a lack of freedom? What's the point of sticking to a script if everyone refuses to play their parts? Growing up, nobility always acted as a panopticon for him, surrounded by people's judgments of him. His character, his aptitude, was always everybody's business. But that pain, that judgment, always came with benefits before.

This illustrates for Hans, quite clearly, how quickly those benefits can be stripped for him and made meaningless. Nobility can't save him. Nobility has only ever taken from him, and then, when he needed it most, it wasn't there for him as a parachute.

At the end of Next to Godliness we can talk to Hans about what he's going to do with Arse-n-balls. And if Henry advises Hans to punish him, first Hans tries to defend him.

At which point Henry invokes his noble status and suggests that letting this transgression go unpunished would lead to people questioning him in his position:

At which point Hans folds quite quickly:

How much do you reckon Hans' worldview was shaken in hindsight, upon realizing the reality of the punishments he might have subjected people to. A day in the stocks or pillory? Being hanged for poaching? Suddenly he's seeing these things from the perspective of a peasant and what that might feel like.

Nobles are meant to protect people and dole out punishments only when necessary. But this whole system is so easily upended the second corruption gets involved.

He's next confronted with this issue in a big way if you decide to sell out Olda and go to Semine with Hashek. Despite von Bergow's wishes, Hashek wants to burn the place down to the ground along with all the people in it. Everyone is to die. This isn't what von Bergow wanted (and if you do agree to Hashek's plan, he is appropriately outraged after) and while Hans questions if the two of you did the right thing if you decide to go against Hashek's wishes, he's quite distressed if you don't go against his wishes and kill everyone. It puts him into a funk for quite a while after and leaves him viewing himself as inherently tainted by the experience.

Horrified as he is that Olda, as a nobleman, would side with Zizka and co (and expresses this right after the possible torturing if the truth is discovered), he's just as horrified that Hashek, a nobleman, would order the slaughter of innocents. He objects on several occasions but mostly goes along with what Henry says, only questioning what the right decision was after.

Nobles are supposed to be better than this. If he was expected to do better, to be better, to live up to all these unachievable ideals, why does no one else give a shit?

The next time this crops up in a big way is after the Maleshov rescue when Hans become quite upset at the sight of a destroyed village. A conversation with Brabant follows that showcase a number of Hans' feelings on the matter:

This is unjust, he says. Because in his eyes, the nobility should be above such dirty, underhanded tricks to get what they want. Brabant insists that the village will be resettled before long ("people die, it's what they do" etc etc) and that this is just how war is.

Hans, however, is unsatisfied:

Here too we see his idea of the Bellator and what that means for him as a noble. In Hans' eyes, their job is to protect the common people. To do everything in his power to make sure that these atrocities don't happen.

If Henry then agrees with him, Hans says something else telling (regardless of what happens with Semine):

These things happen because of his failure. He's a Bellator, a noble who should be capable of protecting people. Instead they failed at Nebakov and he was captured. The death of these people, to Hans, is on his own head.

We know that our boy Luke lost rizz points with pretty much everyone because he decided to burn down the village near Maleshov during the siege, but this too is a moment that's worth remarking on. In the moment, Hans defers to Henry and insists that well, they're in a war, aren't they? But after von Bergow's interrogation, he has quite a few things to say to Henry:

On the flipside, if Henry goes against Dry Devil, Hans praises his actions while simultaneously acknowledging that he wouldn't have been strong enough to do the same:

It's interesting that at this point in the story he trusts Henry (not a noble) with ethical judgments far more than either himself or other noblemen. Deferring to Henry isn't entirely new for him, but that's another post entirely. What matters here is that we're witnessing the wool being pulled from Hans' eyes in real time here: the inherent superiority of nobles is rapidly evaporating.

In addition to that, the fact that he's constantly put into the position of damsel in distress means that he's frequently saved or protected by Henry. He's not the Bellator of his own life. Henry is. Henry is more noble in Hans' eyes than any noble he's ever met. This even comes up at one point early in the game, following their first romance option:

I'm sure I don't need to point out how this means that Henry effectively dismantles Hans' sense of self only to build it up again. All his self-esteem was rooted in the fact that he's a capable Bellator, a defender of the people and worthy of his position as a noble. Then Henry comes in, does it all better despite his peasant upbringing, and then shows Hans that he has value in spite of what he perceived all his faults to be.

Even before the siege on Maleshov, Hans is slowly starting to build up an increasingly robust view of himself as a Laborator. I talked about this in more detail here, where we see Hans volunteer himself for manual labor that we see no one else in the game do other than Henry. In fact, it's something that is often (and jokingly at that) offloaded onto Henry. But here, Hans presents the far more noble position (in this case, dealing with the hunted game) to Henry while taking the manual labor task for himself.

With what noblesse oblige is Hans left with then? Stripped of all the artifice, what remains?

Just his word. The word of a nobleman.

Hans and Henry both get into an argument with Hanush at the end of KCD1 when he gives Toth his word that his safety will be ensured if he lets Radzig and Lady Stephanie go. Henry is (understandably) upset that Hanush will just let Toth go, but Hanush insists that his word as a nobleman is his bond. At which point Hans steps in to argue that they may as well not honor that bond:

Henry also argues, but Hanush ultimately comes back with this:

It's a point that sticks with Hans, and we see it invoked fairly early on in the game:

It's also challenged right toward the beginning as well. Henry responds to what Hans says with something that makes no sense, invoking the idea of one's word but here in the name of him being a blacksmith:

@antivanwine14 recently made a spectacular post about precisely this. There's no such thing as the word of a blacksmith. It doesn't carry the same weight whatsoever. But Hans decides to take it that way regardless:

No pretension, no posturing about the importance of a noble's words over those of a peasant. Either Henry has been elevated in Hans' mind (no doubt) or nobility is losing the special, unique lustre that it might have once held for him (almost certainly true as well).

We fast-forward a bit. His next encounter with the word of a nobleman is at Raborsch, where his word is given... for him, when he's engaged against his will. If you ask me, this changes things. In a big way. Hans has very little, but the one thing that he thought he had was his word to give. Every thing he swears by from that point forward serves as a reclamation.

And the first thing he does with that reclamation is swear that he'll be there for Henry just as Henry was there for him:

(and then he did, etc etc)

I do find it curious here that he doesn't invoke the word of a nobleman here in this promise to Henry. Instead, he swears by God, their mutual belief system. Giving Henry his word isn't enough anymore. As if Henry has outranked it in his eyes. I wonder if he thought back to the moment when Henry responded to Hans' word as a noble with the word of a blacksmith here. Unlike social stratification, this is a place where they are on equal footing.

The next time that Hans does give his word is at Maleshov during the siege: von Bergow's safety in exchange for both Rosa's safety and von Bergow's agreement to switch sides.

This makes sense. He's speaking to another nobleman here, someone who would understand what it means if the word of a noble is given.

And it is, of course, then immediately put in danger by Sam:

If Sam kills von Bergow here, he takes the last remaining vestiges of any sort of sense of self or identity from Hans. Nobility is losing its lustre, he's not a worthy Bellator and instead always has to have Henry saving his ass, and this is all that remains. What is a noble without his word? As Hanush told him very clearly at the end of the first game, his word is his honor. And without honor, he's nothing.

What's left if the artifice is stripped away? If all he has left to him is his word, if that too is rendered meaningless, Hans, in his mind, will be left as nothing.

It should also be noted here that Sam is not held back by the rules of this society that Hans is so solidly part of. Much like queerness, he exists well outside of it, as both Jews and sodomites were considered heretics. Sam has that freedom that Hans so badly longs for, but it comes at a considerable cost, that of oppression. It's risky to exist at the fringes of society.

As @hallowedlore perfectly put it (in private conversation), when Sam attacks von Bergow, a statement throwing into question why he should care about the rules of their fancy nobility, the only thing that stop him is the threat of violence from Zizka. Death, not social decorum.

Hans is clinging on to this bit of identity with all his might here as though it's a life-raft. And Godwin immediately backs him up, reminding him that what he did there mattered.

But it doesn't get him very far. And certainly not with Sam, who couldn't care less about pleasing a Christian god. It strikes me as curious (and topical) here that he comes away from the big roundtable discussion with von Bergow and the other nobles feeling like insignificant shit while their talk at the Devil's Den did not leave him feeling that way.

Being a nobleman was meaningless here too. His nobility didn't matter one bit, all that mattered was being the strongest personality in the room. And Hans is anything but that. That boy is made of insecurities, his outward facing personality all a mask behind which is only hot air.

Only his jealousy regarding Sam's inbuilt relationship with Henry makes him turn back to old patterns:

See, Henry? He's different from us. But the argument doesn't work on Henry and barely even works on himself.

Increasingly, Hans realizes that the nobility isn't where he feels like he belongs the most. This worldview of his is fucked and all wrong. Who went and decided that he should be a Bellator while someone like Henry isn't?

Because he does associate Henry with nobility in a big way. When Henry goes to ask Hans what he should do about Erik's offer of a duel, Hans thinks it over and then comes back with this:

These are different times. Are they? Or is it just Hans' heart that has changed here? Because right after this, he asks Henry to stay. To forgo honor and nobility and not put himself in unnecessary danger.

The aftermath of the silver heist likewise serves as a painful reminder of what is waiting for him on the other side of all this: a marriage that he doesn't want to a woman he doesn't know. What benefits remain of nobility? All he'd see by this point is obligations. No one listens to him, no one cares what he has to say except for Henry. All the bluster is ultimately meaningless. He doesn't belong with the other nobles, and all his best attempts at fitting into the mold fail him. All his life he's spent his time trying to be like those around him, trying to be someone he isn't, and it's never good enough.

The people he feels most comfortable around, Henry and Godwin, are both people with ties to nobility while wanting as little to do with titles and related obligations as possible. They both have social mobility to a certain extent. The opposite of nobility, to Hans, is freedom.

Shorty after the attack by the Praguers, Hans goes to wait for Henry in front of his room. When Henry asks him how he's doing, because he's clearly got experience leading troops, Hans laughs it off:

If there was any doubt left that he views himself as an incapable Bellator, this is excellent proof, backed up even more later on following the suicide mission:

This is what being a noble has gotten him. People's judgments and expectations, obligation to marry and carry on a family line, and the ability to play God and decide who gets to live and who dies. All he wanted was to protect people. Instead he gets to send them to their deaths.

This will come up again in part two, but it bears mentioning here as well. After getting laid, Hans vents to Godwin about how much he hates that no one ever treats him like an adult. He's a noble and an adult, and none of it ever seems to matter:

Who's "they"? Because the rest of what he says mentions that he thought the Trosky delivery would make "them" take him seriously. This isn't just about Hanush. This is about all nobles. That he'd finally fit in.

But he doesn't, and he won't.

When Hanush arrives at Suchdol, he highlights that everyone there is a hero for their deeds there, but it doesn't matter. Hans once more has his noble obligations shoved down his throat, which effectively feels like the last straw in this disillusionment. Nobility has granted him nothing but pain and any child of his would suffer the same fate. There's even some easily missed idle dialogue you can walk in on where they're arguing about precisely that. It doesn't matter what he does, how heroic he is, how many good deeds he performs, at the end of the day none of it ever mattered (read left to right):

It always strikes me in that conversation how unbelievably bitchy Hans sounds here. The "I'm glad you noticed" could not be cuntier. He is not happy. And even then, Hanush barely offers him any guarantees.

Effectively, this leaves Hans open to questioning the harmony of society as it was taught to him and, in questioning it, realizing that that harmony never existed to begin with. He spends the whole game realizing that the social order he's been subjected to and thought he fit into perfectly is not only illogical but also something he has despised his whole life. This is discovered not only because he was shown an alternative in his own shift into more of a Laborator beside Henry (who to him embodies the qualities of a Bellator far better than he), but also in his own queerness.

It doesn't escape me that there's something to be said about Suchdol here. During the siege, Henry and Hans effectively live outside of the bounds of nobility or social stratification. Everyone is equal in the face of Hunger and Despair. And it's only in this space, this place outside of what is and isn't deemed acceptable by society, that Hans finds it in himself to kiss Henry. To breach every code of conduct he's ever known. Because they're already in the space outside of social acceptability. Hell, the entire Devil's Band is situated in precisely this space just by going against Sigismund. You couldn't ask for a more perfect environment for Hans to step outside of the bounds that have held him since birth.

This is even shown even more starkly with this anon's point in mind about how it goes if you don't romance Hans:

This is unjust. Henry is only in danger because he's not a noble. There's something to be said about agency here, but that discussion has to wait for part three of this analysis triptych. Nothing about this social stratification serves him any longer, all the more so when he romances Henry. It's also why he seems so uncertain about the two of them when Henry returns, and they are meant to return to reality and the expected social order.

This social order that was meant to bring with it harmony for all is the same social order that would demand that he marry and beget an heir. Why should he try to fit himself into this cookie cutter mold if he never fit to begin with? As we see with Barnaby especially, being discovered as queer spells an existence at the fringes of society if not outside of it entirely. Queerness is inherently and by definition at odds with social order, thus returning us to the nobility vs. freedom dialectic. And regardless of which of the two Hans ultimately chooses, obligation or what his heart wants, that disillusionment can never be undone.

Part 2, Part 3

[thelovehypothesis]

You ramble, but it's adorable

Ollie Bearman x fem!reader

From this request 

+1k words

a/n's: this was requested on my old account which I accidentally deleted but, hope this fic finds the person that requested it!

warnings: fluff!

summary: lost in your latest obsession, and he's completely captivated by your every word—because to Ollie, every ramble is just another reason to fall in love.

Ollie had always found it easy to get lost in the small moments—those quiet pauses between races, when the world slowed down just enough for him to savour the simplicity of life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, compared to the way he felt right now, watching you animatedly explain your latest obsession.

You were sitting on the couch, knees tucked under you, eyes sparkling as you tried to unpack the complex universe that Taylor Swift had created with her "folklore" album. Your hands moved in quick gestures as you traced out what you called "the love triangle of all love triangles" between Betty, James, and August. Ollie leaned against the backrest, listening with a quiet smile, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"And then—" you continued, your voice slightly higher in pitch with excitement, "in 'Cardigan,' Betty is talking about how she loved James even after he messed everything up. But, and here's the crazy part, 'August' is from the perspective of the girl James cheated on her with!" You waved your hands in a dramatic arc. "It’s so genius because it’s like each song is a different piece of the same story. I mean, can you even imagine the emotional depth it takes to create something like that?"

Ollie chuckled softly, shaking his head just enough for you to notice but not enough to interrupt you. You barely paused, too deep in your passionate analysis of the music to stop. 

"But wait, I’m not done!" You looked at him, eyes wide. "You’ve got 'Betty' next, which is James' apology song. He’s basically trying to get Betty back after messing around with August, but you can tell he’s just a stupid kid who didn’t know what he had until he lost it!" You sighed dramatically, clutching a pillow to your chest. "It’s heartbreaking, but also like... I can't stop listening to it on repeat."

Ollie couldn't help it; his heart swelled at how much you cared about all these tiny details, how you put your whole soul into explaining it to him. He loved how your face lit up with excitement, how your voice carried the melody of your thoughts so effortlessly. And he especially loved how you didn’t care whether he knew every little detail or not—you just wanted to share it with him.

"You’re adorable, you know that?" Ollie said softly, his voice cutting through your rambling just enough to make you pause.

You blinked, thrown off for a second. "What?" 

"You ramble, but it's adorable," he repeated, this time with that signature Ollie grin that made your stomach flip. He reached out, gently tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered near your cheek, warm and soft.

Heat rushed to your cheeks. "I’m not rambling… am I?"

"You absolutely are," Ollie teased, leaning forward so that his face was inches from yours. "But don’t stop. I like it when you talk about stuff like this. It’s like... I can see how much it means to you, and I love seeing you so happy."

You playfully swatted his arm, but your heart was beating faster, the tender warmth of his words melting away any embarrassment. "Fine," you said, narrowing your eyes in mock seriousness, "but don’t complain when I start talking about the metaphors behind the lyrics."

"I wouldn’t dream of it." He pulled you closer, his arm slipping around your waist. His eyes softened as they held yours, and for a moment, the world outside your little bubble disappeared.

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle brush of affection. But then Ollie deepened it, his hand cupping the side of your face as he pulled you impossibly closer, his lips warm and insistent, making your heart race even faster. 

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and flushed, you couldn’t help but grin at him. "I think that was just a tactic to stop me from talking."

Ollie smirked, the mischievous glint in his eyes impossible to ignore. "Maybe," he admitted, his thumb grazing your lower lip, "but it worked, didn’t it?"

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t deny that you were already melting under his touch. He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing you in as if you were the most precious thing in the world. 

"Seriously though," Ollie murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love listening to you talk. About Taylor Swift, about racing, about whatever it is that’s on your mind. You’re just so… passionate about everything, and it makes me love you even more."

The way he said it, so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world, made your heart skip a beat. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close again, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

"You’re too sweet, Ollie," you whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his neck.

He chuckled lightly, his arms tightening around you. "Only for you."

For a while, you both stayed like that—curled up in each other’s arms, the TV flickering in the background, the weight of the world outside fading away. You weren’t sure how long you sat there, but you didn’t care. All you knew was that this moment, with him holding you so gently, was exactly where you wanted to be.

After a while, you shifted slightly, tilting your head up to look at him again. "Okay, but I’m serious about that love triangle. You have to admit it’s pretty genius, right?"

Ollie smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before nodding. "It’s genius," he agreed, even though he barely understood half of what you were saying. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way your eyes lit up, the way your voice danced with excitement. And if listening to Taylor Swift conspiracies made you this happy, then he would listen to every single one.

"Thanks for putting up with my rambling," you said, your voice softening.

Ollie smiled, brushing his lips against yours once more. "It’s not putting up with anything. I love it, and I love you."

And with that, he kissed you again—soft, sweet, and full of love. The kind of kiss that felt like home. The kind that made you feel like no matter what you rambled about, he would always be there to listen, to smile, and to love you through it all.

---The End---

-Lots of love, Em.