oh to experience my album….
A lot of love triangles have a structural problem: one love interest gets all the depth while the other exists mainly to create tension. By the midpoint, readers can usually predict the ending because one character feels like a real person and the other feels like a narrative device.
DOYAK avoided that.
Ian, TJ, and Jo all feel like protagonists of their own stories.
That’s why we , the fans, can have completely different interpretations and still point to valid evidence from the text.
For example:
* Some readers finish the story believing TJ earned a second chance.
* Some believe Ian should have chosen Jo.
* Some think Ian should have ended up alone.
* Some see Jo as the healthiest person in the story.
* Others see Jo’s idealization of Ian as a major flaw.
And none of those readings are completely unsupported.
That’s usually a sign of strong characterization rather than weak writing.
What impresses me most is how DOYAK handles perspective. If you reread the story after knowing everyone’s backstory, many scenes feel different.
A first-time reader might see TJ and think:
“He’s controlling Ian.”
A reread might add:
“He’s terrified of abandonment.”
Neither interpretation cancels the other out.
The same thing happens with Ian. On a first read, he can seem like someone constantly caught between two men. On a second read, you start noticing how much he avoids making decisions until circumstances force him to.
And Jo, who initially appears almost idealized, gradually reveals insecurities and blind spots that were arguably there all along.
That’s the mark of characters who have layers rather than twists.
I also think DOYAK deserves credit for not confusing understanding a character with excusing a character.
We understand why TJ became who he is.
That doesn’t erase the harm he caused.
We understand why Ian withdraws.
That doesn’t make his avoidance healthy.
We understand why Jo becomes emotionally consumed by Ian.
That doesn’t mean every reaction he has is perfect.
The story allows all three men to be sympathetic without pretending they’re always right.
And honestly, that’s what makes them feel adult.
A lesser story might have ended with a clear message:
* “This person was the correct choice.”
* “This person was the wrong choice.”
Wet Sand feels more interested in asking:
“Can damaged people learn to love differently?”
That’s a much messier question, but it’s also why readers are still debating the characters long after finishing it.
ALSO
Another thing I find interesting is that Jo’s existence is necessary for TJ’s growth.
Without Jo, TJ never has to confront the possibility that Ian has a real alternative.
And without TJ, Jo never has to confront the uncomfortable reality that love isn’t always enough.
In a strange way, both men force each other to grow through Ian.
That’s why I don’t really see Jo as the “loser” of the love triangle. Narratively, he fulfills his role beautifully.
He enters the story idealizing love.
He leaves understanding that love must include respect for another person’s choice.
That’s painful growth, but it’s still growth.
And honestly, I think that’s one reason the ending feels bittersweet rather than triumphant. Nobody gets everything they want. Everyone loses something.
Ian loses the possibility of an easier life.
TJ has to face the damage he’s caused and earn trust back.
Jo loses the person he loves.
Yet all three seem more emotionally honest by the end than they were at the beginning.
———————
And to conclude I’ll explain why I think TJ is a good and acceptable endgame for Ian
At first, we’re seeing TJ largely through Ian’s pain. So the dominant impression is: controlling, dangerous, emotionally manipulative. It’s hard not to see him as toxic.
Then the flashbacks start changing the picture.
The childhood material doesn’t excuse what TJ does, but it explains why he became the person he is. He grew up in an environment where vulnerability was dangerous and where relationships were often tied to power, survival, and loyalty. He never really learned a healthy way to love someone.
Ian’s rehab period was especially important to me because it’s one of the few times we see TJ loving Ian when there isn’t much to gain from it.
Before that, you could argue:
* TJ keeps Ian close because he needs him.
* TJ wants to possess him.
* TJ is afraid of being abandoned.
During the rehab struggle, though, we see something more complicated. Caring for someone in recovery is exhausting, frustrating, and often thankless. Those scenes made me think that TJ’s feelings were deeper than mere possession.
What struck me is that TJ often seems willing to suffer himself if it means Ian survives. That’s different from a character who only wants control.
The reason I lean toward “redeemable” rather than simply “tragic” is that tragedy alone doesn’t require growth. A tragic character can understand their flaws and still repeat them forever.
Redemption requires self-awareness and change.
By the end, I got the sense that TJ was finally beginning to understand something crucial:
Loving Ian doesn’t automatically entitle him to Ian.
That sounds obvious, but for TJ it’s a huge shift.
One scene that always stays with me is how frightened TJ becomes when losing Ian starts feeling real. Earlier in the story he acts as if Ian is inevitably tied to him. Later, he seems to realize that Ian has agency—that Ian can choose someone else, or choose nobody at all.
That realization introduces humility into his character in a way we don’t see at the beginning.
I also think the ending works better if you read it as:
* TJ has started his redemption,
* not completed it.
That’s an important distinction.
If the story claimed TJ was fully healed and now a perfect partner, I would probably reject it. The damage between him and Ian is too significant for that. But if the ending says, “These two broken people are finally willing to try building something healthier,” then I find it believable.
I think there are three strongest pieces of evidence for TJ’s potential redemption, (Ian’s rehab, when he tried to take accountability about the accident that lead to Ian’s leg broken and when he decide to let Ian go by the end) and what I like is that none of them are grand romantic gestures. They’re all moments of accountability.
The scene in the hospital after Ian broke his leg is especially important.
A lot of toxic characters in fiction apologize only when they’re about to lose someone, and even then the apology is often framed as “look how much I’m suffering.” What stood out to me about TJ in that moment was that he seemed genuinely forced to confront the consequences of his actions. He couldn’t hide behind power, loyalty, or good intentions. Ian was physically hurt, and TJ had to face the fact that his choices had contributed to that reality.
That’s very different from:
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
It’s closer to:
“I understand that I caused harm.”
And redemption usually starts there.
The rehab scenes work similarly. They reveal a TJ who is capable of patience, sacrifice, and care, which means the problem isn’t that he’s incapable of love. The problem is that he often expresses love in destructive ways.
That’s actually a more hopeful problem to have. If a character can’t love at all, redemption is difficult. If a character loves badly because of trauma, fear, and learned behaviors, there’s at least a path forward.
The moment where he lets Ian go is probably the most significant one, though.
Because for most of the story, TJ’s love is intertwined with possession.
His mindset is often:
* I love Ian.
* Therefore Ian belongs with me.
* Therefore I must prevent him from leaving.
By letting Ian go, TJ finally separates those ideas.
He reaches a point where:
* I love Ian.
* Ian is free to choose.
* I may not be chosen.
That sounds simple, but for TJ it’s arguably the biggest character development in the entire series.
And honestly, that’s one reason I never interpreted the ending as “Ian rewards TJ for bad behavior.”
I interpreted it more as:
TJ finally becomes someone Ian can freely choose.
The freedom matters.
If Ian stayed because he was trapped, manipulated, indebted, or afraid, the ending would feel tragic. If Ian stays after being given a genuine opportunity to walk away, then the relationship changes fundamentally.
One thing that sometimes frustrates me in fandom discussions is how people divide the characters into:
* perpetrator (TJ)
* victim (Ian)
when the story is more nuanced than that.
Ian is absolutely harmed by TJ, but he’s also deeply avoidant. He withholds information, disappears instead of communicating, sends mixed signals, and often postpones difficult decisions until circumstances force them.
That’s not because Ian is malicious. It’s because he’s traumatized.
In a strange way, both Ian and TJ share a similar flaw:
Neither knows how to handle vulnerability.
TJ tries to control situations when he’s afraid.
Ian tries to escape situations when he’s afraid.
One pushes.
One withdraws.
And together they create a cycle that hurts both of them.
That’s why I find their relationship compelling despite all the dysfunction. The story isn’t asking us to decide who is “good” and who is “bad.” It’s asking whether two people who have repeatedly hurt each other can actually grow.
The ending doesn’t prove that they will succeed. It only suggests that, for the first time, they might have a chance.
And personally, I think that’s a more interesting ending than either:
* “TJ was evil all along,”
* or “TJ was secretly perfect all along.”
He’s neither. He’s a damaged person who finally starts taking responsibility for the damage he’s caused.
Yeoreum aesthetic reminds me so much of Park Chanyeol in his “Upside Down” era, try to google it guys
A lot of love triangles have a structural problem: one love interest gets all the depth while the other exists mainly to create tension. By the midpoint, readers can usually predict the ending because one character feels like a real person and the other feels like a narrative device.
DOYAK avoided that.
Ian, TJ, and Jo all feel like protagonists of their own stories.
That’s why we , the fans, can have completely different interpretations and still point to valid evidence from the text.
For example:
* Some readers finish the story believing TJ earned a second chance.
* Some believe Ian should have chosen Jo.
* Some think Ian should have ended up alone.
* Some see Jo as the healthiest person in the story.
* Others see Jo’s idealization of Ian as a major flaw.
And none of those readings are completely unsupported.
That’s usually a sign of strong characterization rather than weak writing.
What impresses me most is how DOYAK handles perspective. If you reread the story after knowing everyone’s backstory, many scenes feel different.
A first-time reader might see TJ and think:
“He’s controlling Ian.”
A reread might add:
“He’s terrified of abandonment.”
Neither interpretation cancels the other out.
The same thing happens with Ian. On a first read, he can seem like someone constantly caught between two men. On a second read, you start noticing how much he avoids making decisions until circumstances force him to.
And Jo, who initially appears almost idealized, gradually reveals insecurities and blind spots that were arguably there all along.
That’s the mark of characters who have layers rather than twists.
I also think DOYAK deserves credit for not confusing understanding a character with excusing a character.
We understand why TJ became who he is.
That doesn’t erase the harm he caused.
We understand why Ian withdraws.
That doesn’t make his avoidance healthy.
We understand why Jo becomes emotionally consumed by Ian.
That doesn’t mean every reaction he has is perfect.
The story allows all three men to be sympathetic without pretending they’re always right.
And honestly, that’s what makes them feel adult.
A lesser story might have ended with a clear message:
* “This person was the correct choice.”
* “This person was the wrong choice.”
Wet Sand feels more interested in asking:
“Can damaged people learn to love differently?”
That’s a much messier question, but it’s also why readers are still debating the characters long after finishing it.
ALSO
Another thing I find interesting is that Jo’s existence is necessary for TJ’s growth.
Without Jo, TJ never has to confront the possibility that Ian has a real alternative.
And without TJ, Jo never has to confront the uncomfortable reality that love isn’t always enough.
In a strange way, both men force each other to grow through Ian.
That’s why I don’t really see Jo as the “loser” of the love triangle. Narratively, he fulfills his role beautifully.
He enters the story idealizing love.
He leaves understanding that love must include respect for another person’s choice.
That’s painful growth, but it’s still growth.
And honestly, I think that’s one reason the ending feels bittersweet rather than triumphant. Nobody gets everything they want. Everyone loses something.
Ian loses the possibility of an easier life.
TJ has to face the damage he’s caused and earn trust back.
Jo loses the person he loves.
Yet all three seem more emotionally honest by the end than they were at the beginning.
———————
And to conclude I’ll explain why I think TJ is a good and acceptable endgame for Ian
At first, we’re seeing TJ largely through Ian’s pain. So the dominant impression is: controlling, dangerous, emotionally manipulative. It’s hard not to see him as toxic.
Then the flashbacks start changing the picture.
The childhood material doesn’t excuse what TJ does, but it explains why he became the person he is. He grew up in an environment where vulnerability was dangerous and where relationships were often tied to power, survival, and loyalty. He never really learned a healthy way to love someone.
Ian’s rehab period was especially important to me because it’s one of the few times we see TJ loving Ian when there isn’t much to gain from it.
Before that, you could argue:
* TJ keeps Ian close because he needs him.
* TJ wants to possess him.
* TJ is afraid of being abandoned.
During the rehab struggle, though, we see something more complicated. Caring for someone in recovery is exhausting, frustrating, and often thankless. Those scenes made me think that TJ’s feelings were deeper than mere possession.
What struck me is that TJ often seems willing to suffer himself if it means Ian survives. That’s different from a character who only wants control.
The reason I lean toward “redeemable” rather than simply “tragic” is that tragedy alone doesn’t require growth. A tragic character can understand their flaws and still repeat them forever.
Redemption requires self-awareness and change.
By the end, I got the sense that TJ was finally beginning to understand something crucial:
Loving Ian doesn’t automatically entitle him to Ian.
That sounds obvious, but for TJ it’s a huge shift.
One scene that always stays with me is how frightened TJ becomes when losing Ian starts feeling real. Earlier in the story he acts as if Ian is inevitably tied to him. Later, he seems to realize that Ian has agency—that Ian can choose someone else, or choose nobody at all.
That realization introduces humility into his character in a way we don’t see at the beginning.
I also think the ending works better if you read it as:
* TJ has started his redemption,
* not completed it.
That’s an important distinction.
If the story claimed TJ was fully healed and now a perfect partner, I would probably reject it. The damage between him and Ian is too significant for that. But if the ending says, “These two broken people are finally willing to try building something healthier,” then I find it believable.
I think there are three strongest pieces of evidence for TJ’s potential redemption, (Ian’s rehab, when he tried to take accountability about the accident that lead to Ian’s leg broken and when he decide to let Ian go by the end) and what I like is that none of them are grand romantic gestures. They’re all moments of accountability.
The scene in the hospital after Ian broke his leg is especially important.
A lot of toxic characters in fiction apologize only when they’re about to lose someone, and even then the apology is often framed as “look how much I’m suffering.” What stood out to me about TJ in that moment was that he seemed genuinely forced to confront the consequences of his actions. He couldn’t hide behind power, loyalty, or good intentions. Ian was physically hurt, and TJ had to face the fact that his choices had contributed to that reality.
That’s very different from:
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
It’s closer to:
“I understand that I caused harm.”
And redemption usually starts there.
The rehab scenes work similarly. They reveal a TJ who is capable of patience, sacrifice, and care, which means the problem isn’t that he’s incapable of love. The problem is that he often expresses love in destructive ways.
That’s actually a more hopeful problem to have. If a character can’t love at all, redemption is difficult. If a character loves badly because of trauma, fear, and learned behaviors, there’s at least a path forward.
The moment where he lets Ian go is probably the most significant one, though.
Because for most of the story, TJ’s love is intertwined with possession.
His mindset is often:
* I love Ian.
* Therefore Ian belongs with me.
* Therefore I must prevent him from leaving.
By letting Ian go, TJ finally separates those ideas.
He reaches a point where:
* I love Ian.
* Ian is free to choose.
* I may not be chosen.
That sounds simple, but for TJ it’s arguably the biggest character development in the entire series.
And honestly, that’s one reason I never interpreted the ending as “Ian rewards TJ for bad behavior.”
I interpreted it more as:
TJ finally becomes someone Ian can freely choose.
The freedom matters.
If Ian stayed because he was trapped, manipulated, indebted, or afraid, the ending would feel tragic. If Ian stays after being given a genuine opportunity to walk away, then the relationship changes fundamentally.
One thing that sometimes frustrates me in fandom discussions is how people divide the characters into:
* perpetrator (TJ)
* victim (Ian)
when the story is more nuanced than that.
Ian is absolutely harmed by TJ, but he’s also deeply avoidant. He withholds information, disappears instead of communicating, sends mixed signals, and often postpones difficult decisions until circumstances force them.
That’s not because Ian is malicious. It’s because he’s traumatized.
In a strange way, both Ian and TJ share a similar flaw:
Neither knows how to handle vulnerability.
TJ tries to control situations when he’s afraid.
Ian tries to escape situations when he’s afraid.
One pushes.
One withdraws.
And together they create a cycle that hurts both of them.
That’s why I find their relationship compelling despite all the dysfunction. The story isn’t asking us to decide who is “good” and who is “bad.” It’s asking whether two people who have repeatedly hurt each other can actually grow.
The ending doesn’t prove that they will succeed. It only suggests that, for the first time, they might have a chance.
And personally, I think that’s a more interesting ending than either:
* “TJ was evil all along,”
* or “TJ was secretly perfect all along.”
He’s neither. He’s a damaged person who finally starts taking responsibility for the damage he’s caused.
A lot of love triangles have a structural problem: one love interest gets all the depth while the other exists mainly to create tension. By the midpoint, readers can usually predict the ending because one character feels like a real person and the other feels like a narrative device.
DOYAK avoided that.
Ian, TJ, and Jo all feel like protagonists of their own stories.
That’s why we , the fans, can have completely different interpretations and still point to valid evidence from the text.
For example:
* Some readers finish the story believing TJ earned a second chance.
* Some believe Ian should have chosen Jo.
* Some think Ian should have ended up alone.
* Some see Jo as the healthiest person in the story.
* Others see Jo’s idealization of Ian as a major flaw.
And none of those readings are completely unsupported.
That’s usually a sign of strong characterization rather than weak writing.
What impresses me most is how DOYAK handles perspective. If you reread the story after knowing everyone’s backstory, many scenes feel different.
A first-time reader might see TJ and think:
“He’s controlling Ian.”
A reread might add:
“He’s terrified of abandonment.”
Neither interpretation cancels the other out.
The same thing happens with Ian. On a first read, he can seem like someone constantly caught between two men. On a second read, you start noticing how much he avoids making decisions until circumstances force him to.
And Jo, who initially appears almost idealized, gradually reveals insecurities and blind spots that were arguably there all along.
That’s the mark of characters who have layers rather than twists.
I also think DOYAK deserves credit for not confusing understanding a character with excusing a character.
We understand why TJ became who he is.
That doesn’t erase the harm he caused.
We understand why Ian withdraws.
That doesn’t make his avoidance healthy.
We understand why Jo becomes emotionally consumed by Ian.
That doesn’t mean every reaction he has is perfect.
The story allows all three men to be sympathetic without pretending they’re always right.
And honestly, that’s what makes them feel adult.
A lesser story might have ended with a clear message:
* “This person was the correct choice.”
* “This person was the wrong choice.”
Wet Sand feels more interested in asking:
“Can damaged people learn to love differently?”
That’s a much messier question, but it’s also why readers are still debating the characters long after finishing it.
ALSO
Another thing I find interesting is that Jo’s existence is necessary for TJ’s growth.
Without Jo, TJ never has to confront the possibility that Ian has a real alternative.
And without TJ, Jo never has to confront the uncomfortable reality that love isn’t always enough.
In a strange way, both men force each other to grow through Ian.
That’s why I don’t really see Jo as the “loser” of the love triangle. Narratively, he fulfills his role beautifully.
He enters the story idealizing love.
He leaves understanding that love must include respect for another person’s choice.
That’s painful growth, but it’s still growth.
And honestly, I think that’s one reason the ending feels bittersweet rather than triumphant. Nobody gets everything they want. Everyone loses something.
Ian loses the possibility of an easier life.
TJ has to face the damage he’s caused and earn trust back.
Jo loses the person he loves.
Yet all three seem more emotionally honest by the end than they were at the beginning.
———————
And to conclude I’ll explain why I think TJ is a good and acceptable endgame for Ian
At first, we’re seeing TJ largely through Ian’s pain. So the dominant impression is: controlling, dangerous, emotionally manipulative. It’s hard not to see him as toxic.
Then the flashbacks start changing the picture.
The childhood material doesn’t excuse what TJ does, but it explains why he became the person he is. He grew up in an environment where vulnerability was dangerous and where relationships were often tied to power, survival, and loyalty. He never really learned a healthy way to love someone.
Ian’s rehab period was especially important to me because it’s one of the few times we see TJ loving Ian when there isn’t much to gain from it.
Before that, you could argue:
* TJ keeps Ian close because he needs him.
* TJ wants to possess him.
* TJ is afraid of being abandoned.
During the rehab struggle, though, we see something more complicated. Caring for someone in recovery is exhausting, frustrating, and often thankless. Those scenes made me think that TJ’s feelings were deeper than mere possession.
What struck me is that TJ often seems willing to suffer himself if it means Ian survives. That’s different from a character who only wants control.
The reason I lean toward “redeemable” rather than simply “tragic” is that tragedy alone doesn’t require growth. A tragic character can understand their flaws and still repeat them forever.
Redemption requires self-awareness and change.
By the end, I got the sense that TJ was finally beginning to understand something crucial:
Loving Ian doesn’t automatically entitle him to Ian.
That sounds obvious, but for TJ it’s a huge shift.
One scene that always stays with me is how frightened TJ becomes when losing Ian starts feeling real. Earlier in the story he acts as if Ian is inevitably tied to him. Later, he seems to realize that Ian has agency—that Ian can choose someone else, or choose nobody at all.
That realization introduces humility into his character in a way we don’t see at the beginning.
I also think the ending works better if you read it as:
* TJ has started his redemption,
* not completed it.
That’s an important distinction.
If the story claimed TJ was fully healed and now a perfect partner, I would probably reject it. The damage between him and Ian is too significant for that. But if the ending says, “These two broken people are finally willing to try building something healthier,” then I find it believable.
I think there are three strongest pieces of evidence for TJ’s potential redemption, (Ian’s rehab, when he tried to take accountability about the accident that lead to Ian’s leg broken and when he decide to let Ian go by the end) and what I like is that none of them are grand romantic gestures. They’re all moments of accountability.
The scene in the hospital after Ian broke his leg is especially important.
A lot of toxic characters in fiction apologize only when they’re about to lose someone, and even then the apology is often framed as “look how much I’m suffering.” What stood out to me about TJ in that moment was that he seemed genuinely forced to confront the consequences of his actions. He couldn’t hide behind power, loyalty, or good intentions. Ian was physically hurt, and TJ had to face the fact that his choices had contributed to that reality.
That’s very different from:
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
It’s closer to:
“I understand that I caused harm.”
And redemption usually starts there.
The rehab scenes work similarly. They reveal a TJ who is capable of patience, sacrifice, and care, which means the problem isn’t that he’s incapable of love. The problem is that he often expresses love in destructive ways.
That’s actually a more hopeful problem to have. If a character can’t love at all, redemption is difficult. If a character loves badly because of trauma, fear, and learned behaviors, there’s at least a path forward.
The moment where he lets Ian go is probably the most significant one, though.
Because for most of the story, TJ’s love is intertwined with possession.
His mindset is often:
* I love Ian.
* Therefore Ian belongs with me.
* Therefore I must prevent him from leaving.
By letting Ian go, TJ finally separates those ideas.
He reaches a point where:
* I love Ian.
* Ian is free to choose.
* I may not be chosen.
That sounds simple, but for TJ it’s arguably the biggest character development in the entire series.
And honestly, that’s one reason I never interpreted the ending as “Ian rewards TJ for bad behavior.”
I interpreted it more as:
TJ finally becomes someone Ian can freely choose.
The freedom matters.
If Ian stayed because he was trapped, manipulated, indebted, or afraid, the ending would feel tragic. If Ian stays after being given a genuine opportunity to walk away, then the relationship changes fundamentally.
One thing that sometimes frustrates me in fandom discussions is how people divide the characters into:
* perpetrator (TJ)
* victim (Ian)
when the story is more nuanced than that.
Ian is absolutely harmed by TJ, but he’s also deeply avoidant. He withholds information, disappears instead of communicating, sends mixed signals, and often postpones difficult decisions until circumstances force them.
That’s not because Ian is malicious. It’s because he’s traumatized.
In a strange way, both Ian and TJ share a similar flaw:
Neither knows how to handle vulnerability.
TJ tries to control situations when he’s afraid.
Ian tries to escape situations when he’s afraid.
One pushes.
One withdraws.
And together they create a cycle that hurts both of them.
That’s why I find their relationship compelling despite all the dysfunction. The story isn’t asking us to decide who is “good” and who is “bad.” It’s asking whether two people who have repeatedly hurt each other can actually grow.
The ending doesn’t prove that they will succeed. It only suggests that, for the first time, they might have a chance.
And personally, I think that’s a more interesting ending than either:
* “TJ was evil all along,”
* or “TJ was secretly perfect all along.”
He’s neither. He’s a damaged person who finally starts taking responsibility for the damage he’s caused.
A lot of love triangles have a structural problem: one love interest gets all the depth while the other exists mainly to create tension. By the midpoint, readers can usually predict the ending because one character feels like a real person and the other feels like a narrative device.
DOYAK avoided that.
Ian, TJ, and Jo all feel like protagonists of their own stories.
That’s why we , the fans, can have completely different interpretations and still point to valid evidence from the text.
For example:
* Some readers finish the story believing TJ earned a second chance.
* Some believe Ian should have chosen Jo.
* Some think Ian should have ended up alone.
* Some see Jo as the healthiest person in the story.
* Others see Jo’s idealization of Ian as a major flaw.
And none of those readings are completely unsupported.
That’s usually a sign of strong characterization rather than weak writing.
What impresses me most is how DOYAK handles perspective. If you reread the story after knowing everyone’s backstory, many scenes feel different.
A first-time reader might see TJ and think:
“He’s controlling Ian.”
A reread might add:
“He’s terrified of abandonment.”
Neither interpretation cancels the other out.
The same thing happens with Ian. On a first read, he can seem like someone constantly caught between two men. On a second read, you start noticing how much he avoids making decisions until circumstances force him to.
And Jo, who initially appears almost idealized, gradually reveals insecurities and blind spots that were arguably there all along.
That’s the mark of characters who have layers rather than twists.
I also think DOYAK deserves credit for not confusing understanding a character with excusing a character.
We understand why TJ became who he is.
That doesn’t erase the harm he caused.
We understand why Ian withdraws.
That doesn’t make his avoidance healthy.
We understand why Jo becomes emotionally consumed by Ian.
That doesn’t mean every reaction he has is perfect.
The story allows all three men to be sympathetic without pretending they’re always right.
And honestly, that’s what makes them feel adult.
A lesser story might have ended with a clear message:
* “This person was the correct choice.”
* “This person was the wrong choice.”
Wet Sand feels more interested in asking:
“Can damaged people learn to love differently?”
That’s a much messier question, but it’s also why readers are still debating the characters long after finishing it.
ALSO
Another thing I find interesting is that Jo’s existence is necessary for TJ’s growth.
Without Jo, TJ never has to confront the possibility that Ian has a real alternative.
And without TJ, Jo never has to confront the uncomfortable reality that love isn’t always enough.
In a strange way, both men force each other to grow through Ian.
That’s why I don’t really see Jo as the “loser” of the love triangle. Narratively, he fulfills his role beautifully.
He enters the story idealizing love.
He leaves understanding that love must include respect for another person’s choice.
That’s painful growth, but it’s still growth.
And honestly, I think that’s one reason the ending feels bittersweet rather than triumphant. Nobody gets everything they want. Everyone loses something.
Ian loses the possibility of an easier life.
TJ has to face the damage he’s caused and earn trust back.
Jo loses the person he loves.
Yet all three seem more emotionally honest by the end than they were at the beginning.
———————
And to conclude I’ll explain why I think TJ is a good and acceptable endgame for Ian
At first, we’re seeing TJ largely through Ian’s pain. So the dominant impression is: controlling, dangerous, emotionally manipulative. It’s hard not to see him as toxic.
Then the flashbacks start changing the picture.
The childhood material doesn’t excuse what TJ does, but it explains why he became the person he is. He grew up in an environment where vulnerability was dangerous and where relationships were often tied to power, survival, and loyalty. He never really learned a healthy way to love someone.
Ian’s rehab period was especially important to me because it’s one of the few times we see TJ loving Ian when there isn’t much to gain from it.
Before that, you could argue:
* TJ keeps Ian close because he needs him.
* TJ wants to possess him.
* TJ is afraid of being abandoned.
During the rehab struggle, though, we see something more complicated. Caring for someone in recovery is exhausting, frustrating, and often thankless. Those scenes made me think that TJ’s feelings were deeper than mere possession.
What struck me is that TJ often seems willing to suffer himself if it means Ian survives. That’s different from a character who only wants control.
The reason I lean toward “redeemable” rather than simply “tragic” is that tragedy alone doesn’t require growth. A tragic character can understand their flaws and still repeat them forever.
Redemption requires self-awareness and change.
By the end, I got the sense that TJ was finally beginning to understand something crucial:
Loving Ian doesn’t automatically entitle him to Ian.
That sounds obvious, but for TJ it’s a huge shift.
One scene that always stays with me is how frightened TJ becomes when losing Ian starts feeling real. Earlier in the story he acts as if Ian is inevitably tied to him. Later, he seems to realize that Ian has agency—that Ian can choose someone else, or choose nobody at all.
That realization introduces humility into his character in a way we don’t see at the beginning.
I also think the ending works better if you read it as:
* TJ has started his redemption,
* not completed it.
That’s an important distinction.
If the story claimed TJ was fully healed and now a perfect partner, I would probably reject it. The damage between him and Ian is too significant for that. But if the ending says, “These two broken people are finally willing to try building something healthier,” then I find it believable.
I think there are three strongest pieces of evidence for TJ’s potential redemption, (Ian’s rehab, when he tried to take accountability about the accident that lead to Ian’s leg broken and when he decide to let Ian go by the end) and what I like is that none of them are grand romantic gestures. They’re all moments of accountability.
The scene in the hospital after Ian broke his leg is especially important.
A lot of toxic characters in fiction apologize only when they’re about to lose someone, and even then the apology is often framed as “look how much I’m suffering.” What stood out to me about TJ in that moment was that he seemed genuinely forced to confront the consequences of his actions. He couldn’t hide behind power, loyalty, or good intentions. Ian was physically hurt, and TJ had to face the fact that his choices had contributed to that reality.
That’s very different from:
“I’m sorry you’re upset.”
It’s closer to:
“I understand that I caused harm.”
And redemption usually starts there.
The rehab scenes work similarly. They reveal a TJ who is capable of patience, sacrifice, and care, which means the problem isn’t that he’s incapable of love. The problem is that he often expresses love in destructive ways.
That’s actually a more hopeful problem to have. If a character can’t love at all, redemption is difficult. If a character loves badly because of trauma, fear, and learned behaviors, there’s at least a path forward.
The moment where he lets Ian go is probably the most significant one, though.
Because for most of the story, TJ’s love is intertwined with possession.
His mindset is often:
* I love Ian.
* Therefore Ian belongs with me.
* Therefore I must prevent him from leaving.
By letting Ian go, TJ finally separates those ideas.
He reaches a point where:
* I love Ian.
* Ian is free to choose.
* I may not be chosen.
That sounds simple, but for TJ it’s arguably the biggest character development in the entire series.
And honestly, that’s one reason I never interpreted the ending as “Ian rewards TJ for bad behavior.”
I interpreted it more as:
TJ finally becomes someone Ian can freely choose.
The freedom matters.
If Ian stayed because he was trapped, manipulated, indebted, or afraid, the ending would feel tragic. If Ian stays after being given a genuine opportunity to walk away, then the relationship changes fundamentally.
One thing that sometimes frustrates me in fandom discussions is how people divide the characters into:
* perpetrator (TJ)
* victim (Ian)
when the story is more nuanced than that.
Ian is absolutely harmed by TJ, but he’s also deeply avoidant. He withholds information, disappears instead of communicating, sends mixed signals, and often postpones difficult decisions until circumstances force them.
That’s not because Ian is malicious. It’s because he’s traumatized.
In a strange way, both Ian and TJ share a similar flaw:
Neither knows how to handle vulnerability.
TJ tries to control situations when he’s afraid.
Ian tries to escape situations when he’s afraid.
One pushes.
One withdraws.
And together they create a cycle that hurts both of them.
That’s why I find their relationship compelling despite all the dysfunction. The story isn’t asking us to decide who is “good” and who is “bad.” It’s asking whether two people who have repeatedly hurt each other can actually grow.
The ending doesn’t prove that they will succeed. It only suggests that, for the first time, they might have a chance.
And personally, I think that’s a more interesting ending than either:
* “TJ was evil all along,”
* or “TJ was secretly perfect all along.”
He’s neither. He’s a damaged person who finally starts taking responsibility for the damage he’s caused.
Won yo-il, who was bullied every Monday because of his Waggle name, is afraid of Mondays. At the cen...
- Author: wageul
- Genres: Shounen / Yaoi / Adult / Adult / Smut / Webtoons
Kim Eunchong is the definition of a devoted church boy - in fact, his name literally means “Bl...
- Author: Kang Unnie , MissPM
- Genres: Drama / Romance / Webtoons / Yaoi
Honestly I think the ending was realistic and it ended the best way all this could end, not because I’m a TJ stan but because if you think about it psychologically speaking (about Ian) he choose what most people would have choose to do because you don’t choose who you fall in love with you just fall for them, you just feel it, and for what we saw, Ian loved TJ for 20 years and it never changed not even after all the bad things TJ did, I believe that if they could have grown up in a different environment everything would be different; I know their relationship was always toxic and all of them deserved better but how it went is the most realistic way (that’s why irl a lot of people is stuck in toxic relationships). Even tho Ian tried to love someone else, someone that we all know (Ian included) was the healthiest person for him (Joseph) but Ian was not entirely there and focused on them as Jo said that he knew since the beginning of their relationship, and that’s because even if you try to love someone else it just doesn’t work that way, you shouldn’t be trying to, it just happens and Ian always knew he was truly in love with TJ no matter how hard he tried to move on. So in my opinion this is like one of my favourite manhwa because I feel it is realistic in this aspect and even with all the drama and angst I really liked it.
For weeks, a mysterious man has been setting Gyeol’s dreams on fire. By day, Gyeol lives a qui...
- Author: Gaetsaeng, Gaet Saeng
- Genres: Yaoi / Drama / Smut / Romance / Webtoons
After Jaehyun’s piano performance goes viral, world-renowned classical music professor, Kang M...
- Author: Dell Studio,Reck
- Genres: Yaoi / Mature / Webtoons / Smut
Breaking News: Professional killer Joo Tae Man fell in love with Korea's favorite actor, Kang D...
- Author: Eresemo
- Genres: Webtoons / Action / Comedy / Drama / Shounen Ai
'You... never changed at all. The touch of your rough lips and the way your hands gather as if ...
- Author: Maroron
- Genres: Yaoi / Smut / Comedy / Romance / School Life / Webtoons
Han Ji-chan had spent a life entangled with an organization, marred by pursuits that lacked true pas...
- Author: Ant studio
- Genres: Webtoons / Yaoi / Adult / Mature / Smut / Drama
Jungwoo gets misunderstood because he looks older than his age despite being 20 years old while Youn...
- Author: Pyapya
- Genres: Romance / Yaoi / Webtoons
This story is a romantic comedy set at Jijon High School, where the supreme school tyrant, Yeo Chan-...
- Author: Gaeam
- Genres: Webtoons / Yaoi / Smut / Comedy