I want to know what the rest of the Ghost crew was thinking about Kallus when he first defected. We focus on what Zeb was thinking a lot, or we talk about Kallus' defection through Kallus' own eyes, but what about everyone else?
Because imagine you're the Ghost crew, and you haven't been as involved with Kallus' redemption as much as Zeb, and you didn't see his doubt and his humanity the way Zeb did. So you're completely removed from what he went through mentally and then this guy who tried to kill you a few years ago is just there. In your living room. With a shock blanket and a glass of warm water.
Was everyone expecting the arrogant ISB agent they'd gotten used to? Even if you're not the Ghost crew, you've heard about this new fulcrum agent and he defected from the ISB and survived, that's insane. And then everyone finally gets a good look at him and he's shaking head to toe, covered in his own blood and too scared to speak to anyone. I think seeing him like that would kind of drive home the reality of what the empire was and what it was built on.
Because he's on some level of the Imperial Command structure so the assumption for other defectors who were maybe troopers, low level officers, or pilots is that he enjoyed a comfortable position looking down on everyone beneath him, but that's not the case. He's not this fearsome agent like they thought, he's a lost, confused, shell of a man. And the Spectres are expecting the strutting, smooth talking Agent Kallus they've gotten to know but now his voice shakes when he speaks and he can't look them in the eye. He jumps at loud noises and his eyes dart around the room, and he's frightened without a weapon and it feels more like they're trying to rehabilitate an injured animal than integrate a person into the rebellion. He's probably jumpy around Kanan and Ezra because the only other force sensitives he's been around are the Inquisitors and Vader, and all the force stuff and the weird aura that those two drag around with them is off putting and upsetting for Kallus, instead of comforting like it is for the rest of the Ghost crew.
I just. The realization that the Empire is just a spiraling cascade of fear that seeps from one person to another instead of a well-oiled machine made up of the best of the best has to be sobering. That there are a few at the very tippy top of the dogpile that genuinely enjoy or believe in what they're doing, but everyone else, including the ISB, is operating on fear and orders. This doesn't absolve anyone of anything, of course, but I think it'd be good for people to see that the Empire really is all talk. That it can come crumbling down piece by piece, because it's not actually built on anything real. And that Kallus, who can't trust anyone around him right away, and who holes up in his office to hide, could be the real first glimpse behind the curtain for everyone. Even if you kind of knew that the Empire was lying, seeing how deep it goes must feel like such a shift in perspective for a lot of people. Even the people in it willing can't escape it without ripping themselves apart.
I love hearing about how parent groups insisted that school systems switch to simplified standards and Common Core...
Just for members of those same groups to go on social media and show their asses with 'Um, this report says that the standard is for my student to be able to legibly use a pencil and even though all they're doing is incoherent chicken-scratch, I feel like they should have gotten a good grade!!'
y’all this Jaden Ivey stuff got me down a rabbit hole and I come to find out Colston liked treveyon Henderson’s post about people going to heaven and stuff and I skimmed it and it says that gays are going to hell… like no pls stop liking this man’s posts. He already posted that Islamophobic graphic I don’t need my man affiliating with that
maturing is realizing that characters grow and change and develop and when they do so, that is not "bad writing" or ruining the characters. writers write the characters they intended to write for the stories they intended to tell. if that deviates from what you, as an audience member, would do, that is a personal gripe, not objective criticism.
Chapter One: Click Here
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Chapter Directory: Click Here
Words: 5542
Summary: Gem, Daphne's nicest friend, takes her out for dinner and a hang out, but wants to have some... uncomfortable conversations.
Gem tried. Gemima really did try, and really did care, and I could always tell that about her. She was an incredibly nice and caring person, always, even before all of this happened! She was one of my favourite people to be around because she just always sort of inspired me to be a better person.
Gem was one of those people who was so nice that it always seemed like it just came so naturally to her. Like she could just sense when someone needed help in some way, and she had already thought of a thousand ways to help that person and was doing the best one, always. I realize now that that whole aura was the result of many many years of practice. She had helped so many people with problems so many times, that she was like a chess Grandmaster in a way; she could tell based on what moves you had already made, what moves you were going to make, and what moves she needed to make in order to set that board up exactly how she wanted it to be.
Sitting in a cup-holder of her car that had been stuffed with soft, fleecy fabrics and cotton balls, I was coming to finally understand that she had never seen these moves before. She hadn’t seen any of these pieces before, when it came to me and my problem.
But she was trying. I guess I can’t really… get mad at her about that.
“I figured this would be easier than the purse or the seatbelt again,” Gem’s voice got my attention and I looked up as she continued to drive us to her house. My arms were braced against the sides of the cup holder as much as they could be, trying to stop me from getting slammed into the sides of it whenever we braked, started moving again, or turned. I was straddling-- to the best of my ability-- the amplifying stone AND the protection stone at the same time to try and make the ride a little bit less… hazardous, and to help her hear me while she had to keep her eyes on the road.
“It’s uh…” I started, shuddering at the thought of the seatbelt and how awful that experiment had been, and the purse hadn’t been awful but at the time I did feel exceptionally removed from all of the conversation going on, like I had been kind of forgotten about in there. That was the second time this had happened though, so… I imagine it would be better by now? Or I hope? Still though, I didn’t want to discourage her from trying. She was the only one who really seemed to consider me in these equations. “It’s better than the seatbelt, for sure,” I offered as cheerfully as I could manage. If it weren’t a cup holder and it weren’t a moving vehicle, this would actually be a nice change from the doll furniture.
“Oh, that’s good,” she replied warmly, sounding relieved. Her eyes dropped down just a second to smile at me before I wound up flopping forward as we braked at another red light. Gem lived clear on the other side of town from me now, and the city was a shit place to drive during rush hour.
There was another long pause. Normally Gem gabbed while she was driving like it was the only way she knew how to exhale, but something had been on her mind ever since she came to get me from the apartment, and this whole adventure had been awkward as all hell. I knew I was to blame for it. Gem hated anyone fighting, and that’s all I had managed to do with damn near everyone, in front of her, the entire day. If I were to put money down, I imagine the hesitating was due to her fighting in her head over whether she needed to focus on making me feel better and helping me through this stupid bout of curse-itis, or whether she needed to make sure I ‘understand the power of my words when dealing with interpersonal matters’ or something.
“Sooo…” she started on a drawl, me trying to listen to her while avoiding motion sickness as best as I could in the rock-tumbler of a seat I was in. “I know… I know things were hard for you this morning. I know things are tense at the apartment with Sheri right now…”
Oh boy, here it comes.
“I just… I wanted to apologize for how our call went earlier. I know it hurts to think we’re talking behind your back, but I want to assure you that’s not the case. Sheri just messaged me to let me know that you were in a bad spot, and she did tell me you two had been fighting when it happened.”
I stared straight ahead. Losing my bet aside, Gem was lying to me.
Cal had told me about their group chat. Like, I know I can’t say much-- I have a group chat with all of them that Sheri isn’t in that I’m sure she also knows about based on her comments this morning about me bitching about her to Cal or whoever she thinks I’m bitching about her to, but of all the people I really expected to just… lie to me in all of this, Gem wasn’t it.
“I’ve been… I’ve been a little worried, about your situation in the apartment, if I can be honest,” she said quietly, turning the blinker on and slowing down again. My arms were feeling exhausted from trying to hold me up and away and stopping me from bouncing around the center console like ice in a martini shaker. It was obvious she was waiting for me to reply as I caught her glancing down at me in my periphery, but I really didn’t know how to process any of what was happening.
Like yeah, ok, we started the group chat without Sheri in it so that I had a safe place to vent and ask for help with how to deal with her because we had always kind of been butting heads a bit, and then this shit happened, and yeah I kind of needed a place where I could go to like… have some other eyes but mine on her. Gem encouraged that, Gem said it was good and healthy and a safe space for that kind of thing.
…But shit, did they already have a group chat without me going? I mean, it would make sense that Gem and Sheri would talk about me in DMs and stuff when Sheri needed to, they were the ones who were closer friends before me and Sheri became roomies, but… Sheri and Cal don’t get along. They never really have. Mak gets along with everyone the same, kinda? I’ve never gotten a good read on Mak… fuck, did Mak secretly hate me? I mean, we don’t talk a lot, and maybe he talks to everyone else more-- he used to be roomies with Cal, so he’d invite Cal into a group chat just to shit talk me and stuff, and that would make sense and--
“I didn’t mean to upset you or anything…” Gem’s voice was soft, and I shook myself out of my worry spiral to glance up at her. Somewhere in the middle of all of this we had parked, presumably at her apartment building, and her eyes were the size of two moons as they peered down at me over an extremely concerned expression. “I just… I don’t think that the situation in your apartment is great for you, like this… and if you’d be ok with it, I mean-- I’ve got lots of space at my place. I have a few things in your scale, I don’t know if they’re like… any better than what you have but…”
Oh god.
Gem was asking me to… crash at her place? Move in with her? I hadn’t been paying attention, and I had no idea if I had missed something in the middle here.
“I, uh…” I drawled, my arms lowering and immediately making me flinch from how sore they were. “I mean… it’s my apartment,” I started. “I was there first. I don’t… I feel comfortable there, and--”
“Shhhh,” Gem hushed me from above and I grimaced. “I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean like… it’s not a forever thing and I don’t want you to feel pressured. I guess I just wanted you to know that if things are really as bad over there as they seem, especially like… today, that my door is always open, ok?”
She was being nice. I know she was being nice.
But… now I had to wonder. Was this even her idea? Who was she being nice to, right now? Did Sheri bitch about me in their secret group chat so much that Gem thought it’d be best to get me out of Sheri’s way? Let Sheri have some time away from ‘taking care of me all the time’? My eyes dropped to the stones by my feet and I moved a little to start picking them up. Gem’s hand moved in automatically for me to lay them on, ready to take them. “Thanks, Gem,” I managed to get out after swallowing every weird doubt and concern I had. I was so tired. Why even keep fighting, at this point? “I’ll keep it in mind, for sure.”
Gem’s smile was in her voice, and it was one of the few moments I wish I could shrink smaller. So small no one could even see me. “Alright. You ready to go get some food, girlfriend?”
Cal had forbidden me from telling anyone about their secret visit, the weed, or the twinkies, so I just nodded, plastering a smile on my face as I grabbed onto her offered fingers. “Yeah, that sounds great.”
Gem, like everyone else, had her own particular way of picking me up. It seemed to have fifty different steps involved, but it was gentle and honestly… it was nice to have someone take their time with me after everything else that had happened already today. She kind of moved me back and forth between her two hands to get me up and out of the cup holder until I was seated in her palm, her hand cupped like a bowl, and then she’d place her free on me whenever she didn’t need it for anything, covering most of me and just keeping me there.
It was… a little suffocating, especially because she made a point to basically press her hands to her chest as well. I guess she did it for stability, or to keep me close enough she could hear me in case I wanted something. We had never talked about it, mostly because Gem did all of the talking, but we were still in this weird, awkward quiet spell again.
“What were you, uh, thinking for food?” I asked as we traveled to her apartment. I shuddered in her hands as the elevator started and stopped, just glad we weren’t running into anyone. Gem knew I wasn’t too keen on being seen like this after the Witch kicked me to the curb, and her reaction was always to just suddenly cover me with both hands and almost force me into a ball. It couldn’t be subtle, not for anyone looking at her, but I guess Gem was just… nice enough? Weird enough? To get away with looking like she was smuggling a small bird around.
“I prepped veggies earlier to make a stir-fry,” she said happily over me, the sound of her voice reverberating against me with her hands pressed up against her chest like they were. God it was unsettling the first few times it happened whenever we wound up like this. “I was thinking if nothing else, the rice and sauce should be ok if I can’t get the veggies small enough for you?”
“The rice and the sauce would be perfect,” I lied.
I didn’t have plates and cutlery at my size. We honestly hadn’t figured anything like that out yet. I had seen a bit online when I was shopping for the furniture but I just… refused to get any. That seemed like I was giving up; like I was accepting this, somehow, and I wasn’t ready for that, I guess. I normally made do by just… eating dry foods or things that were easier to handle. Something swimming in sauce, when I would basically be using my bare hands, in literally just my pajamas that I’d be stuck in for I have no idea how long… not ideal.
But Gem was happy, and I was just so fucking tired of disappointing people or upsetting people or arguing with people today. So, why the hell not let her have this?
Turns out that plates and cutlery were uh… not going to be a problem, though.
I remember when the door opened and I immediately felt a bit creeped out. I knew that Gem had collected dollhouses and stuff, she had been the one to turn me onto those miniatures kits I kinda wanted to get into before it became, y’know, my life. She had ordered me the ‘beach house bungalo’ kit after the Witch refused to break my curse and this looked like it was going to be a more long-term problem.
But to wander in and see just… doll-furniture, set up everywhere… It was upsetting and I couldn’t quite pin down why. Like, should I have been upset about this? She had asked earlier in the day if I wanted her to come get me and I didn’t say no, it’s not totally out-there to assume she would’ve been expecting me to drop by at some point while this was happening it just--
“Again, no pressure,” she said as her hands suddenly pushed away from her body and we went on the agonizingly slow-and-steady descent to the dining room table that was just around the corner from her entrance hall, “but I just… I feel like it would be more comfortable here, for you? At least better than back home until Sheri calms down a bit and you two can relax a bit more around each other.”
“I don’t see why Sheridan can’t relax,” I snapped as she finally lifted the ‘safety hand’ off the top of me and let me stand. “It’s not like I’m hard to avoid while I’m down here, and aside from getting set up with food I don’t need anyone’s help.”
Gem sighed as she stood back up and started to take off her coat and things. She had forgotten to give me back my stones. “You do need help when you’re down there, traveling around the house isn’t exactly easy for someone your size and--”
“That’s why I bought the stairs and ladders, actually,” I called as I approached the chair and table set-up she’d presumably put out for me on one of the placemats. She had set up two chairs with it but only one place-setting. I picked up a tiny fork and grimaced; it was plastic, and didn’t feel extremely sturdy even at my own size, but I guess it was better than nothing. “I even gave myself a way to get in and out of the cupboard I keep my snacks in, so I can just--”
“That’s not safe,” Gem’s voice shot back softly but firmly as she hung her coat on the back of one of the chairs and went back to the porch to kick off her shoes into the boot tray. She was literally too far away to argue with, especially with my amplifying stone somewhere in her pocket, still. “What if you got trapped in there? No one would know where to find you.”
I kind of wanted to kick over this stupid little table. I knew for certain that I could get out of the cupboard, I had done all the testing myself when this had happened while Sheridan was at work; it was one of the times I was lucky enough to have my phone on me. None of them had even known it had happened until hours into it when I felt I had no choice but to let someone know. I was preparing to argue as she made her way back, but she detoured into the kitchen instead and just kept shouting to me.
I hated the way people shouting sounded, even from a distance. There was a weird rattle and strain in their voices that you don’t really notice when you’re normal that comes through when you’re this pathetically small, and no matter how much I tell them I can hear them even if they talk at a regular volume, they either forget or just never listen in the first place.
I had stopped reminding them when I realized that they were stepping into other rooms to ‘discuss’ me when this happened. Most of the time they were just worrying, and trying to figure out ways to help me out without upsetting me more, but still… I just wish I could be part of those conversations.
“Sheri also doesn’t like the stairs and ladders,” Gem was continuing from the kitchen, “she thinks they’re in the way.”
“What are they in the way of, vacuuming?” I muttered, huffing as I plopped into one of the dining chairs and trying to find a position that was comfortable. It was unsanded, so my pajamas kept getting stuck a bit on the pressboard fibers.
“I don’t think they’re actually in the way, I think she might just be worried about you maybe getting under foot when she’s moving around the house and doesn’t want to hurt you.”
Was this another lie? Was she trying to cover for Sheri or just trying to make me feel better, or both? My arms wrapped around myself as I heard Gem get started on cooking. She was probably going to be in the kitchen for a while, and unsurprisingly all of her preparations for my visit didn’t involve letting me access the floor or anything else.
“Maybe it’d be a good idea to put them away once you're normal again. I’m sure if you say you’re doing it out of respect for her, she’d be willing to put them back for you when this happened.”
Fat fucking chance. I have to go into her room once a week to clear out the soda cans before black mold starts to form, the woman was never going to take any kind of initiative to carefully put my actually pretty expensive stairs and ladders back around the house unless I asked, and then I’m sure it would just turn into more bitching about how I’m always on her case.
“Are you listening?” Gem asked with concern as she leaned her head out through the weird kitchen-window situation that all of the apartments from this era came with. I cupped my hands around my mouth and then did a large gesture with one arm, pretending to be shouting. I had learned pretty early that it was easier on my throat to fake it until they got the point in moments like this. “Oh, shoot… right.”
Gem muttered apologies as she scurried out of the kitchen with the stones in hand, and I futilely tried to point at the blue one while she tried to remember which was which. “TURQUOISE,” I shouted up at her when it was obvious she wasn’t going to bring them remotely near me until she had solved this puzzle on her own, and she almost jumped at the sound.
“You don’t need to yell,” she reprimanded me while laying the stones on the table and pushing the blue one closer to me with a finger. God, she was like my mother. “Come on, we’ll have this conversation while I cook.”
Her hands landed in the shape of a boat next to me as I walked over and put my bare foot on the stone. “I’m fine to talk from here now, actually, so--”
“Daph,” she said. Again: way too much like my mother. “I’d like to have this conversation with you, I think it’s important that you hear me out and we talk through--”
“I can do that fine from here now, really,” I said firmly, crossing my arms as I looked up at her. I needed to remind myself to see a chiropractor when I was finally back to normal again, or a massage therapist. Something for my aching neck, anyway. Speaking of setting reminders, actually; “Could I have my phone back, too, please? I want to set some notes for myself, for when this is done.”
Gem left her hands on the table and just stared at me with an unamused expression. “I’ll let you have your phone in the kitchen. C’mon, the pan’s almost heated and I don’t want the oil to start smoking.”
Just. Like. My mother.
This is why I stopped going home for Christmas.
I sighed, making sure it was audible with the enchantment before I took my foot off of the stone and hefted it into my arms. At my current height it was the same size as a corgi, so not the easiest thing to lug around, but it at least didn’t weigh anymore than like, fifteen pounds or something by my guess. The crew always said I looked kind of like an ant the way I could lug things around at my size. Kind of hated that comparison, but anyway…
Gem tipped one of her hands down for me to walk onto and we did the slightly-awkward shuffling as she insisted on doing this boat-carry. I refused to look up at her face any more, for one: because my neck hurt, and for two: I didn’t want to see that ‘proud’-- and kinda condescending-- smile she made when someone made a ‘hard but important choice for themselves’.
“I’m fine on the little table behind you,” I tried to direct her as she seemed to be lining up to put me on the counter right next to the stove-top.
“I want to be able to look at you while we have a conversation,” she said, her hands still slowly lowering, undeterred. She seemed to be fine with not looking at me while we were ‘having a conversation’ as she yelled at me from here earlier, but I didn’t want to bring it up.
“Can I go up in one of the cupboards, then? It’d keep me more at eye-level, my neck is starting to--”
“That’s a bit high for you, isn’t it?” She asked, jostling me just a little with a sudden stop as she looked up at the wall-mounted cupboards and frowned in thought.
“I’m not going to be trying to get down without your help,” I said, trying to sound as neutral as I could manage. If I got annoyed, I imagine this probably wouldn’t go anywhere I wanted to. I felt her hands almost start to lower again and pulled out the last card. “It’d keep me out of the hot-oil splash zone.”
Gem’s hands redirected so quickly I felt myself sink deeper into her palms and my stomach lurched. I took a glance at her face as she raised me up almost level with it and saw that she seemed almost embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that. There was some shuffling as she carefully-- almost painfully slowly-- tipped me into one palm and then put me in the cupboard. I hopped off quickly with my stone under one arm and turned around to help guide my phone in, but she had already turned to the pan below.
“Anyway,” she started, and it became obvious I’d be waiting at least a bit more on the phone, “I just think there should be a bit more compromise for what the living situation is back at your apartment right now to keep everyone happy.”
“Gem, I do literally all of the cleaning.” Maybe I shouldn’t have been so blunt about it, but I was kind of done with this entire day, and this whole entire situation. The past two months had been hell and there was basically no end in sight. Gem’s mouth opened to argue and I cut her off, sitting down on the stack of “small” plates next to me. “I’m not kidding, Gem. I do her laundry-- which I know she’s been bitching about because this has happened twice now before I was able to get laundry done and she always waits until the end of the week to bring me any. I do the floors, I do the counters and the bathroom. I don’t know if she realizes you can unload a dishwasher almost the exact same as you load it, but loading the dishwasher and sometimes remembering to run it is the only stuff she does.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Gem said, her eyes jumping up to look at me. “She feels under appreciated, and it’s causing her a lot of stress, especially with how she’s been--”
“Been what, exactly?” I asked, crossing my legs and leaning back. It was actually kind of nice to be eye-level with someone; at the very least, Gem’s expression seemed like she was taking me more seriously up here.
“Well,” my gigantic friend drawled, her eyes dropping back to the pan as she dumped more veggies in. The noise was irritating as all hell at this size, and at this close, but the cupboard did an ok-enough job of drowning out the worst of it, I suppose. “She has to be the one to drive to the grocery store and pick things up now, and when you need to go anywhere, she’s always on call to drive you--”
“Groceries, another thing I was doing completely by myself before this all happened,” I shot back. “She’s had to do them two times since this all happened and both of those times she just tagged along as a babysitter for me. The other times I’ve gone, I had Cal or you with me, remember?”
“I’m trying to have a conversation with you,” Gem grumbled, shooting me a look as she started reaching for her spices and sauces. “The point is that she’s having to do more than she was used to, and it’s been hard for her to adjust.”
“Gem.”
I watched her sigh and pretend she didn’t hear me as she stirred everything. I had to admit, it at least all smelled really good.
“Gem,” I repeated, a bit louder.
“I know this is a harder adjustment for you,” she said defeatedly after a minute, shooting me another look, “but I’m just trying to find something that makes everyone happy!”
“That’s not going to happen, Gemmie,” I said, legitimately starting to feel sorry for her. Yeah, she was being stupid about this, but it was the kind of stupid that came from being too nice to actually think about something. “This whole thing fucking sucks. I hate this, and--”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“I hate this,” I reiterated, staring at her. “I hate being this small. I hate how loud it is, I hate how uncomfortable it is. I hate how hard it is to do anything.” I was on a roll, I didn’t even care whether or not she was listening as her eyes bounced between me and the pan. I just wanted to get it off my chest. “I hate getting grabbed and pinched without being asked, I hate that I can’t do things without people feeling like they need to interject, even when I specifically tell them not to. I hate that no one understands what this is like.”
“You’re upset,” she said firmly, dismissively, as she cranked the stove off and did a quick taste test. “I’m not saying it isn’t hard for you, I know it’s got to be very hard, but you’re blowing this all out of proportion because you’ve had a bad day.”
“They’re all bad days now,” I sighed, getting frustrated again, “that’s what no one seems to--”
“You’re normal most of the time!” She shot back, aggressively bright-siding me. “Those are good days!”
“They aren’t, though,” I said, standing up off of the plates and walking toward the edge of the cupboard, stone in my hands. “That’s what nobody seems to care about! I can’t go anywhere on my own, and I’m living in constant fe--”
“You can’t go anywhere alone because of this!”
Gem’s voice was sharper than I think I’ve ever heard it before; her cheeks were flushed and she seemed mad-- the pointing of the massive, sauce-and-veggie covered wooden spoon didn’t really soften the mood either. I stumbled backwards a bit as she railed on, looking back down, aggravated, at the food below. “I don’t understand how someone who’s already almost had to go to the hospital because of birds can just… delude themselves into thinking this isn’t extremely dangerous.”
“Girlfriend, I love you,” she continued, simmering down like the stirfry while shaking her head, “but your attitude really sucks. I don’t know what we need to do to get it through to you that we’re just trying to keep you safe, and just helping you through this. I know you didn’t ask for this, but neither did anyone else, and I really think you should appreciate at least Sheridan more, if not everyone else, for what you’re making them go through, even though-- yes-- your thing is still hard, despite all the work we’re doing to make it easier on you.”
You’re not making it easier, though, I wanted to argue. A part of me was red hot and ready to melt through straight to the floor, wanting to just scream that nothing was easier when I was terrified every day of my normal life that I’d somehow have to be this again; wanting to scream that nothing was easier when I was constantly being grabbed and dropped and moved places against my will when I was perfectly fine doing those things on my own.
I wanted to argue my point that I never said it wasn’t dangerous, that was my point! That I can’t go anywhere or do anything because of this! And somehow that got turned on me?!
But for all the utterly explosive rage I knew was in me, somewhere, there was a massive blast-resistant door that just said ‘she’s right’.
She’s right: None of them asked for this.
She’s right: It could be so much worse than this.
She’s right: None of them have to do anything, so I should be glad they’re doing something.
Gem started to get that sad, apologetic look all over her again, and her guilt just made me feel more guilty as she went to the rice cooker and started plating dinner. I sulked in the cupboard, hugging my stupid corgi-sized rock to myself as my rage kept trying to counter all of those blast-resistant points.
She’s right, but: It’s just a decent thing to do to help a friend in need. It’s what I would do for them.
She’s right, but: Just because it could be worse doesn’t automatically make this better, somehow.
She’s right, but: That something probably shouldn’t hurt or humiliate or upset me so god damn much.
“Here.” Her voice was soft again, and the hurt parts of me were craving it; desperately wanting to latch onto that comfort. She was good at that. I knew she was good at that. “Sorry I forgot to give it to you sooner. Give me a minute to cut this up smaller and we’ll go eat, ok girly?”
I nodded as she slipped the phone in, noticing a little too late as she let it go, leaning it against the back of the cupboard that it was her phone, not mine; we had the exact same phone, and similar colored cases.
I was about to give her the heads up, when a notification flashed on her screen; a message from Cal, in that private group chat they had told me about.
A group chat named: Problem Solvers
Guess that’s all I really am, in the end.
I swiped to clear the notification and waited for the screen to go back to black, and tried to keep myself level.
“Hey, uh, this is your phone,” I said, and the look of vague panic that came over her for even a second really just kind of set all of my doubts and worries in stone.
“Oh,” she said, reaching in and hauling it out, swapping it with mine quickly. I punched in my lockscreen code and pretended not to notice her immediately checking the notifications before she shoved it back in her pocket. “Sorry about that, I always forget how similar they are.”
“Me too,” I said, and started slowly typing ‘massage’ into the reminder widget.
‘Break curse’ was already there.
I swallowed down a lot of bile and shame, and erased it.
Slowly, I replaced it with: ‘Solve everyone’s problem’.
I’ve really enjoyed your metas about the problems in Harry Potter that never get properly addressed or changed. It made me think and I’d like to hear your opinion on the following question. Would you say the wizarding world is basically a dystopian society (even without Voldemort)?
Hi there!
Thank you! 🥰!
This is an interesting question. I'm quite sure that the wizarding world without Voldemort is at least not intended as a dystopian world.
JKR states it clearly at the end. "All was well". It doesn’t matter that not everything is well not as I see it (cue the elves, cue Ron confunding a muggle, cue no evidence in canon about Hermione’s parents etc.) for JKR the wizarding world after Voldemort is good.
So, I think, if you look at it from the perspective of authorial intent it is clear that the wizarding world with Voldemort is a dictatorship with suprematist classist ideas carried to an extreme: Muggles and muggleborns are the inferior beings that can be enslaved. You could call this a dystopian society, or a dystopian mirror to society. I personally think that it is rather an allegory than a dystopia. Voldemort (and Grindelwald for that matter) and their ideas are ultimately rather based in classism than racism but their whole reign of terror clearly is inspired by racist and fascist regimes.
The thing is, it could have been better: JKR could have made more of the fact that the prejudides against muggles and muggleborns are inherent in the society, that other wizards and witches also believe that muggles are inferior even if they don’t think they should be enslaved or killed. If this would have been made clear, if the extremist blood supremacy ideas were clearly connected to the general prejudice and discrimination it would have been an excellent cautionary tale about how a society can slip into fascism.
Wizarding society without Voldemort can hardly be called a dystopia imho, and not because JKR did intend it to be just fine (when it isn’t). If you look beyond the authorial intent and look at what JKR described wizarding society after Voldemort is a still classist society that only got rid of the extremists, a deeply flawed society but not a dystopian one.
I think, if you look just at what JKR describes and not what she wants us to see it is actually a pretty good mirror for society: The inherent prejudices in wizarding society enable a fascist extremist group to come to power for a while and after they are defeated the society is back to a point where they all agree that killing muggles is a bit extreme. But the prejudices against elves, goblins, muggles, magical creatures etc. have not vanished over night with Voldemort and there is still a lot to do. My issue is with the fact that it is never addressed, that all is not in fact “well”.
I mean, I cut her some slack, it’s a children’s book and it can end with the big baddie being defeated. But would it have killed JKR to hint at the fact that the trio or others for that matter do something with the issues in their world twenty years later? In the books not just in some interviews. Let us meet Luna as magical creature activist in the epilogue with Hermione covering the legal aspects, let Dean teach muggle studies pre-Hogwarts, let Ron teach muggleborns how to fly pre-Hogwarts. Let Ron overcome some of his set opinions. Leave Harry alone, he has done enough (Head Auror is such a bad choice....). But show us that society changes. Instead she shows us that all is the same.... That is of course ultimately because classes are good as long as the better people are nice and king (this is JKR’s opinion, not mine). That everyone is with their school sweetheart is only a symptom of that lack of change. How I wish she had never written an epilogue.... This is the part of the book I really hate with a passion. I mean without the epilogue I could at least pretend that the issues in the wizarding world are addressed.
So, tldr: HP verse with Voldemort is rather an allegory for a fascist dictatorship than a dystopia. Without Voldemort it’s a deeply flawed society, but there is zero awareness of that fact, not on the characters’ side nor on the author’s. That is a mirror, not a dystopia as I understand the meaning of dystopia. And it’s a mirror that is not even intended as such.
Thanks for the ask! Hope I answered your question!
