#ill be writing much much more about his this is just the foundation for my piramid lovers
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I dont know how many of you will agree with this, but recently I had a realisation about Kevin. lt could be broken down to 3 phases:
The first is that Kevin is existing in very extreme emotional states - he either completely removes his emotions and as such vulnerability from a situation, or he goes all in reactive, which ends up with him being extremely dominant and agressive in his expression. The in between only happens when he is in the process of bouncing from one to the other.
Here is why I think he acts as such: as a kid, he had to really moderate how he expressed himself and constantly adapted to the situation. He had to be the golden child for the cameras, he had to be unfallible as an athlete due to his legacy, at the same time, he had to be submissive and lesser than for Riko and Tetsuji. Since most of the attention he got was both very keen and very dominant while emotionally removed (I wonder how much actual prize he got for normal things), it created a deeply rooted fear of honesty. It would be pretty natural for him to feel resentment at constantly not being the right thing, always lacking. As such, he became ultimately dishonest in his expression, which makes him repellant to opening up and being vulnerable in relationships. I used to think most of his dishonesty stemmed from fear because the truths he knew were very delicate and dangerous, but I am wondering if it wasn't born out of this deeper feeling of inadequacy. As a result, the Kevin we meet is used to fitting into someone else's ideas, and that's because he feels like every relationship is based on him GIVING them something of himself. Every one, not just the one with Riko. Living is a sacrifice of self for him, and he will end up, willingly or not, molding himself into whatever he feels he has to give away. When he asks for Wymack to take him in, when he makes the deal woth Andrew, when he wants Neil to believe in a future, when he drops all conctact with Thea, or Jean, after leaving the ravens. He feels like it's expected of him to be what others want to see him as and not what he wants to be. He can't be both of those things at once, so he is what they want or nothing at all. Just think of his attachment to the number two on his cheek and the meltdown that accompanied him, finally choosing to stand up for himself. To finally choose to come into his own identity.
That mechanism would lead from the beginning to him being very removed from his own wants in order to protect them. So, after a while, he would lose his sense of self. Which is funny, because that would lead to him having to relearn it through first finding the negative image of his preferences and his true self, like when capturing a scene in traditional photography.
As such, he is able to pinpoint everything he hates, dislikes, doesn't want and agree with - because they are an immediate danger. But that doesn't immediately lead him to finding what he likes, what he wants or what he is.
And this is where it gets interesting. This behaviour would also be responsible for him feeling very secretive about everything he does find that he likes and enjoys. For example history, if someone made it into a adressed thing, that he likes history, it would feel like he lost that interest, for the sole reason it's not just his anymore. You with me? Not in general, but in a personal relationship. That's why he is so annoyed at people not being good enough for his standards at exy but also not being excited at them caring or trying to meet them, only more and more critical even when he is totally having fun and excited about this.
The fact that even his interest in something like history could be demonized isba pretty common protection mechnaism. That's because when we shelter ourselves by pretending to not exist we are completely vulnerable when that illusion drops. It makes sense that he keeps everyone and everything at an arm's length with his cold and biting demeanour. Feeling like every person is a threat to who he is explains how screwed up almost all of his relationships are.
#kevin day#psychoanalysis of people who dont exist is my special interest lol#i still think he is a total dick tho#ill be writing much much more about his this is just the foundation for my piramid lovers#kevin day headcanon#kevin day hc#kevin day meta#aftg#all for the game#tfc#the foxhole court#the sunshine court#thea muldani#david wymack#nora sakavic
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A very long meta explaining why the confession scene in Good Omens is the best that has ever been written and performed on screen
First of, the scene begins with two different realisations that makes each of them believe that their dynamic will significantly change (Crowley wanting to confess his love and Aziraphale wanting to break out the news about heaven). This, you can see, creates an unprecedented shift in their energy, makes them super excited (Azi) and super nervous (Crowley) to break the news to one another. And despite the two matters being drastically different, when Aziraphale begins his revelation we don't get the Miscommunication trope where Crowley listens to the offer and passively retreats back his emotions. No. He is steadfast in his resolution, in his love for Aziraphale.
And that right here is king attitude no.1, because even if Aziraphale just threw something so godforsaken on him, he won't allow himself to be cowardly or let go of the one person he loves more than eternity. Crowley still bares his heart, still lets it all out, because he will not lose Aziraphale in his naivete of still believing that Heaven is good and Hell is evil. (I write this with supreme detachment of my own beliefs lol) He tries to make Aziraphale understand that sides didn't do them any good the past 6000 years, that the only solid foundation they ever had was them, and that Crowley would rather have them than have everything.
The way you hear Tennant's voice breaking when he said “And we spent our whole existence pretending that we aren’t”, is the perfect reflection of how Crowley genuinely despairs the time they lost and wouldn't have any more of it. And even with how bare and raw he's feeling with revealing all this, he still goes on. He still tries to tell him and I would like to spend our whole existence together, but struggles and struggles because he's strung wide open. But he keeps trying.
Now you see here a moment of disbelief on Aziraphale's behalf, because he doesn't understand why Crowley would refuse going back to heaven with him when all Aziraphale remembers of Angel!Crowley was how utterly bright his eyes shone when he lit up the stars and surely Crowley must miss that too? He wants the same thing Crowley is saying, just in a different dimension. The “I can make a difference” immediately changes to “We can make a difference” because that's all what’s ever been for Aziraphale; them changing the small engines of the world according to their partnered will. He is genuinely benign and not ill-intentioned when he says “Nothing lasts forever”, because he truly wants a better life for them, a better existence. And that's when it gets better: Crowley has his walls back up, he's walking away, because he can't bear that he was never enough as he is for Aziraphale. That he was never worth reciprocation.
But Aziraphale doesn't let him leave.
And that is king attitude no.2, because he doesn't want Crowley to leave when things are strewn all over the place that they don't know where they stand. All Aziraphale ever wanted was for them to stand on the same ground. He asks him to come back to him but hides it by finishing it with “to heaven!” because the whole conversation is going too fast for him, and he's undergoing a religious crisis of sorts that does not end in 6000 years, yet even so he still doesn't want to lose Crowley because he's everything he has and he can't do it without him and “I — I need you!”
And that's when it gets reaaally interesting. Aziraphale's expression then turns from sorrowful desperation to rageful desperation, because he's baring his heart and Crowley is walking away from him. Their solid ground is completely shaken when he says “I don't think you understand what I'm offering you” because he's trying to be subtle about his love for Crowley and still direct as much as he can, but Crowley responds with a condescending “I think I understand a whole lot better than you do” and if this isn't peak human beings in their arguments, I don't know what is. Because we all think we are so misunderstood every time we get into an argument with someone we love, and we absolutely despise it when we feel patronized, so it's no wonder Aziraphale bitterly says “Then there's nothing more to say”, because if Crowley understands, truly does, then he'd see right past his fear to how much he loves the ground Crowley walks over.
And on the other hand I don't believe Crowley truly meant to be patronizing, but in a desperate last attempt he wanted to make Aziraphale understand what he is trying to say, what he spent his entire eternity feeling for Aziraphale, what Aziraphale would be giving up if he goes to heaven. What their life sounds like with no nightingales.
“You idiot, we could've been.. us” is the very culmination of love confessions. It took every single emotion and equated it. Tennant's delivery of it was unsurpassed in the way that it truly covers everything. And the way he grabbed Aziraphale, not entirely lovingly but desperately and angrily and, honest to God, awfully, is the reason why their kiss is so perfect. No queerbaiting, no beating around bushes. It is raw and sad and giving and agonising. Crowley wants to say see what you're giving up? See what we can have? And all Aziraphale thinks is how could you lay this on me now after everything, after every chance we could've been something, after me loving you from the first time I've met you. He's angry towards himself too, because nothing he can offer Crowley will be good enough that he chooses him instead of his choices. Sheen's choice in making his character grab Crowley's shoulder and let it go and then grab it once more in desperation is so unexplainably perfect of how much Aziraphale wants to hold onto Crowley.
But in the back of his mind, Crowley isn't choosing the same. Instead, Crowley's choosing to run from something that no doubt will rebound in their faces. They are angels and demons of heaven and hell, how could Crowley expect they could run and hide without being a repercussion later on? At least what Aziraphale is suggesting ensures that they will have a high position of power, enough to make them together, enough to make them happy, but instead, Crowley is walking away.
And when Crowley lets go of him, not the other way around because of course it is Crowley who must let go and detach from the utter pain that pierced his heart, you can see his expression being one of defeated longing. He sees all expressions passing across Aziraphale, sees how torn apart the other man is, too, and awaits just a semblance of anything they could work with. But instead, Aziraphale's face closes, and he tells Crowley “I forgive you”, and Crowley thinks this must be his second falling, because he's never felt more pain. “Don’t bother”, he says, yet still waits for Aziraphale outside and doesn't leave until Aziraphale has left him. Because in the end, Crowley would always be there for Aziraphale, even if he doesn’t feel worthy of it.
And that, my beloveds, is why eternity will remember this scene.
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#david tennant#michael sheen#good omens meta#LJ metas#regulusrules metas
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What about a yandere king x reader (make or female) and reader is basically a spy, making the king fall in love with them to get information etc, and reader basically tries to kill the king in his sleep but he lives cause he's a warrior at heart 💪(bbg energy lol) and basically what the king would do in that situation
An extremely cliche scenerio
Yandere! Male! King x Gn! Spy! Reader
Ugh Uni just started last week, and it was not... Fun.
One of our classes start at 7:30, and my Uni is like 30minutes-1hour far from my house so AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Anyways, there's no classes today so I got to actually write.
I got quickly uncomfortable writing this HAHAHAH damn. So, if noncon is not your tea, or you're looking for a fluffy fic, I suggest you don't read this one. I'm serious. This is not romantic in any way.
Yandere! King name: Soma
TW: NonCon
At Saphiri, there's a lot of Kingdoms and Sultanates, and a handful of Empires. One of the Kingdoms is called the Caelum Kingdom.
It's a newly established Kingdom, and was once a sizable city without a nation. Built from the foundations of a trading center.
It's a Kingdom formed on an archipelago separated by streams of salt water and fresh water in between their islands. A tight knit community, they thrive in tourism, trading, and textile export. They were honestly on a breakthrough to become an Empire, and it was just a matter of time.
Caelum has been led by the Elara family for generations upon generations. They were the first to discover the island, to establish itself as a city, and a kingdom as they led and oversaw the whole archipelago.
And currently, it's led by Soma Elara, the 3rd born crown prince and now the King of Caelum.
Soma, being the 3rd born, didn't really have that much chance on the throne. That, and his siblings, especially the first born, were smart and all had a chance at taking the throne.
He hated it dearly.
His mother, the second Queen after the previous died, is a greedy woman.
She sees Soma as a tool, and wanted him to succeed the throne.
If not... Let's just say the back of his legs will have more scars decorated on them.
Soma suffered abuse at the hand of his mother who wanted him to catch the attention of the King. And him, conditioned by his abusive upbringing, caught the want for power from his mother.
Ego and Pride. Those two prospects were pummeled into Soma's mind. Nobody can become the King. Only he is worthy of the throne.
So, he became the perfect prince. Nevermind that he orchestrated events in which it would humiliate his siblings. That's irrelevant. What's important is him.
The perfect gentleman with the wits of a genius, he became the crown prince when the selection came.
And, to solidify his place...
His older siblings were pronounced dead due to "freak accidents". One was devoured by sea monsters, the other was torn apart by demons. The younger ones were lucky, they only got to be a bit disabled due to "their own faults at being clumsy".
To not raise suspicion, of course Soma got hurt. Dead almost, but he miraculously recovered! How delightful!
The poor scapegoat is the youngest. And, as she got executed, Soma had a cold look of arrogance on his face.
The Queen?
She's afraid of the monster she created. She wanted a King, not a tyrant.
And, as she trembles when her friends tell her how good of a King her son is, Soma glares at her coldly from the balcony, daring her to speak ill of him.
Years passed, and Soma is now of marriageable age at 25.
His advisers told him to find a Queen, but he refuses to do so.
He's thinks having a Queen would make him look weak in the eyes of people.
So, why get a Queen when he can be an absolute Patriarch?
His Pride cannot allow for a potential weakness.
Not until a certain new person entered the palace as a stableperson...
Soma is welcoming foreign envoys to his palace, in which they would have a inter-country peace talks about a certain Emperor who is wreaking havoc amongst other kingdoms in search of a knight. They said that she was the supposed to be Empress, but fled the Empire.
Even one of the Dukes there, Duke Eros, is here to talk about the man.
As Soma guides the envoys to the palace grand meeting room, a certain servant caught his eyes.
They were frolicking with his horse, who was known to be too stubborn for its own good. Heck, this horse needs coaxing from Soma even just to let him ride on it.
But this stableperson was just... Hugging and petting his horse without any kind of violent reaction.
Honestly, Soma's ego was bruised.
His eyebrows furrowed as he led the envoys to the meeting hall once more.
He needs to know who this person is.
After quite the gruelling three hours of a collective disbelief over the actions of the Emperor Callisto, Soma got out of the meeting room and bid a good day to the envoys. Without any more distractions, he marched to the stables to find the person.
There, he saw you. Brushing the coat of his horse ever so gently and with a hum.
Oh he's annoyed.
Again, how can this pride filled horse just... Let's you be?
"State your name."
Your head, that was hidden due to being on the other side of the horse, popped out of the frame and he lets out a confused look.
You look so... Cute and innocent with those sparkling eyes that held so much affection for the horse in front of you.
"Oh! Your majesty!" You bowed. Even your voice sounds so sweet. "My name is Y/N. I'm not unworthy to meet you but..."
You looked up at him, eyes sparkling once more but now, with affection for him.
Oh?
"But I am so glad to meet you, your majesty."
Your voice held so much affection and love for him.
He cleared his throat, a bit awkward.
Sure, people admired him, but these people always held reverence and respect first. But here you are, projecting your affection like this.
His ego was fed immensly.
"You're bold." Soma smirked, "I like that."
He didn't miss the way your eyes widened subtly. Your face glowed with radiance of happiness that he was so sure he got blinded.
"Oh! Oh my..." You held your blushing cheeks, shy. "Thank you, your majesty... Um Oh..."
You bowed and ran away, fully embarrassed.
Soma, surprised, let his guard down a bit as he laughed gently at your antics.
You were like a deer that was curious, then runs away when get caught.
He liked that.
Immensly.
Yet, what he doesn't know, is that you were smirking as you ran away.
You knew that a prideful man like him wouldn't like a strong independent person.
That would just clash with his personality.
But, what if that person was cute, innocent, shy, friendly... Someone who is easily protect-able. Someone who loves them immensely and is shy about it?
It would inflate his ego wildly seeing this naive person love them without a care.
You're a spy sent by the Emperor Callisto in order to find his darling knight here. And, if you can't find her, you just need to send the Emperor information, so that he can infiltrate the Kingdom and wreck havoc just to lure out the knight.
Honestly, the Emperor scares you. Who's crazy enough to wage countless wars just to find his woman?
Or does he delight in bloodshed and finding his darling is just an excuse?
Who knows, but you knew you have to kill Soma after you extracted enough information from him to start the war inside the Kingdom.
Starting with capturing the heart of the Prideful King.
"Soma!"
You ran to Soma and hugged him tightly. A happy smile on your face with a blush well orchestrated that you know he loves.
Soma smiles and kisses the top of your head before continuing to talk to his Prime Minister.
In those two months that you were here, you painstakingly captured Soma in your hands. Continuing to act as the naive person who doesn't know noble etiquette, you were a breath of fresh air in the uptight palace.
The servants love you, the other nobles look longingly your way, wanting to act as carefree as you.
And Soma? He's head over heels for you.
Yet, in his mind, you were the one in love. Not him. He loves having you by his arms, with you just loving him affectionately and being there to relieve his stress.
You were promoted to consort immediately once you confessed to him fully, and was now a precious being inside the Kingdom.
After all, this King who doesn't want marriage, with ego so high people swore it was through the heavens, suddenly had a consort on their way to become his royal partner.
Soma gave you everything. He loves giving you gifts, asserting dominance as he spoils you greatly.
And, as his reward, you would pour your affection to him while asking about information that he willingly gave.
After all, the foolish king still thinks you won't betray him.
You were only a stableperson, who in their right mind would betray him? Someone who's such a catch?
Sure, he's really handsome. People were lining left and right for his hand in marriage after all. And he spoils you greatly. You won't betray him. He knows it.
But, why are you straddling his lap now, in the middle of the knight, with a knife raised up high?
You were staring at him so coldly, he swore you are a different person.
Anguish, that's what Soma felt first.
He wanted to ask you why, but anger immediately filled him as you swung the knife down.
You're fast, but not fast enough.
He grabbed your hand and gripped it hard, making you seethe and drop the knife hilt down on the bed.
"WHY?!" He screamed, trying to clutch your body to submission. "HOW DARE YOU BETRAY ME!"
You gritted your teeth and tried to thrash away from his hold, not saying anything.
When he got you pinned down on the bed, he grabbed your chin and forced you to look at him.
"Who sent you." He chillingly said that you gulped and shakily answered.
"Emperor Callisto."
Soma stopped, eyes darkened to a degree.
Yet, the words that came out of his mouth was surprising for you.
"So, you're doing this for a man other than me?"
He threw his head back, laughing wildly as his pride got pummeled fully.
First, you made him dance on your palm. Make him spill information and secrets. Let him spoil you greatly. Let you love him freely! And this is how you pay him? A betrayal for another man?
You're such a greedy fucker.
"Oh, cuz he's an Emperor, isn't he?" He spat out, eyes wide with extreme jealousy and unbridled rage. His squeeze on your waist was hurting you immensely. "And i'm not? Is this it? Do you spread your legs to men of higher status huh?"
Your heart dropped when you saw him take off his dress shirt, displaying his carved out muscles that once brought you lust, but now it brought you fear.
Soma gripped your shirt, eyes dead with no light. His mouth a thin light as he captured your lips in a frenzied kiss.
He's no one with pride now. His ego gone.
The betrayal made him crazy as you made him crazy for you.
Placing a palm on your abdomen, he smirks. An evil intent on his eye.
"I'm gonna fuck/breed you into submission." He growls out, grinding his hips against yours. "I'm gonna make you forget the Emperor. I only want you to only live for me, sing and dance for me, I want you to only love me."
And as he relishes in the fear in your eyes, he smirks.
You're his.
And he will break you into being his if you try to get out of his clutches at all.
Remember that.
#lizzaneiaelizalde#yandere writing#yandere imagines#yandere boyfriend#yandere male#male yandere x reader#tw yandere#yandere x darling#yandere x you#yandere fic
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Don't leave me... I'll stay (Loki)
Summary: After an argument causes a rift between Loki and Y/N, the day is spent ignoring the other until Y/N decides to spend the night away from Loki.
Warning: Angst? i dunno what else to put in but angst eheheh. long maybe? this is a very long fic eheheh. ohh and another thing is that this may be prone to mistakes as i dont have anybody to proof this so... ehehhe
Note: eheheeh the liar has finally posted what was promised, precisely a month late or later. eheheh sorry to those who waited, school has taken a lot of my time, I barely open my laptop to work and im rarely here anymore but i've got until the monday off so lets see what i'll do with that eheheh
The context is vague, I apologize but i am complete rubbish at this. at everything really, including writing so eheheh. To those brave souls that braved this whole thing, Thank you! so very deeply, from the bottom of my heart for even showing the slightest bit of interest in my rubbish ideas. Hope you like it and im stopping myself from going any further and prolonging this intro ehehhe, Enjoy!😊
‘No Loki! Just because I have this disease, doesn’t mean you have the right to keep me locked up like some sort of china. I am able to do just about everything I could before I told you and you have no right telling me what I can or cannot do’ you countered his argument but being stubborn, neither of you relented nor ceased.
You were now second guessing whether it was right or not, telling him about the chronic illness you were diagnosed with, but you knew that you did the right thing if you wanted this relationship to have a good foundation. The reaction however… was not how you thought things would go.
It was simple at first. Barely noticeable and could have been mistaken as added doting to his already caring nature with you but overtime, it became more and more obvious how he was setting up these restrictions you never would have agreed on. It only grew ridiculous, and you would have allowed the passive ones, but this was the final straw.
Your patience had worn thin over the entirety of the argument however, as comments grew more rash and the final ‘disapproval’ of your oncoming task was remarked, you snapped. He had no right to restrict you of activities and tasks he thinks are too much for your condition and it only insulted and hurt you to think that he thought you so frail and weak that even simple chores were too much.
‘I am going on this mission, whether you “approve” or not, because just telling you was out of courtesy. I refuse to be told of my restrictions by anyone besides myself. I would have understood your concerns if the situation were more grave, but for the love of God, it’s a simple data extraction.’ You exasperated, growing tired of fighting about something you know he won’t fold on.
‘In an abandoned Hydra base!’ he pointed out, choosing not to acknowledge how you outright dismissed his concern, no matter how much it hurt. ‘You know of the dangers that lurk in those retched lairs and often times there are still those who patrol the premises. You do remember when Rogers and Romanoff were attacked during their little escapade in Camp Leigh, do you not?’
‘Of course, I remember, I’m not a moron’ you snide, glaring daggers at the raven-haired god and you were just about to justify how Barnes was going with you however the comment he let out was the final pull on the thinned thread.
‘Well, you certainly are acting like one’ he mumbled without thinking, turning away. He thought it was low enough so you wouldn’t hear but he thought wrong.
‘I beg your pardon?!’ you all but screeched out of fury. Loki flinched before he turned at the high pitch and fury, he heard from you. He saw the outraged his comment caused in your eyes. The fire that burned in those beautiful orbs of yours was terrifying however, what truly frightened him was how you took a breath, calming yourself and before he could so much as apologize, rolled your eyes and turned away.
‘I’m done’ you raised your hands in surrender, turning your back to him.
‘What do you mean you’re done?’ he asked as fear of losing you threatened his being. You mean everything to him and just the very thought of losing you and him being the very reason you were gone… it opened a holocaust in his mind.
‘This conversation, I am done. I’m ending it before either of us say something or does more damage that there already is’ you yield, busying yourself with tidying up the files you had splayed out all over the floor.
Relief flooded his senses before guilt quickly bore fruit.
He watched as you packed up your work and strode out of the room. It took him a minute, but he followed you out and once he finally reached the living room, he met the sight of you slipping on your trainers and throwing your gadgets, wallet and keys in your bag before moving to the door and slamming it shut.
He stood frozen in the threshold of the hall as he processed what happened. All he wanted was to keep you safe. Never did he think that things would go this bad.
You stormed out of the flat and went to the compound for the briefing you had with Bucky. It was scheduled for tomorrow, but you just could not stay in the flat, not with him, not at the moment. You needed a cool head and quite frankly, yours was blazing.
You called Barnes to reschedule, which he agreed to but before he could ask why, you had already hung up. You needed to calm down, seriously.
You took a scenic route around the city before heading to the facility. You parked at the car park and turned off the vehicle before you let your head fall on the steering wheel. Loki’s’ words really stung but in his own way, you knew he meant well. He loved you but it felt demeaning to be confined to one place or to be babied. You are a grown woman; this disease may affect you in some way but you wouldn’t let it define and control your life like its slowly doing to Loki.
You took your phone to look at the time and was greeted with lock screen background of you and Loki cuddling, fast asleep. Someone from the team took the picture to spite Loki but you found it adorable and set it on your phone. It brought a small grin to your lips until you got a message from Barnes saying which conference room was being used for the quick briefing. You sighed, taking your bag before exiting the car and heading in the building.
The briefing was quick. Only about the layout of the base, where to go and what to take. You were in and out in possibly ten minutes, but you longed for it to be longer. You didn’t want to go home yet so you stayed for a chat with the others, talking to Wanda about her relationship, discussing with Bruce the project he was working on before you went and left with a goodbye, heading for the shops for dinner prep and a bit of groceries, taking your time in each aisle to pass the minute until you really had to go home.
Loki had texted Thor after you left, asking if you were at the compound. It took a bit for his brother to respond but eventually he replied with ‘Barnes says she’s on her way for a meeting’. He felt relieved to at least know where you are, knowing you were safe and not alone somewhere.
Hours passed until he heard your keys on the front door, the metal snake keychain giving a distinct clink with the rest of your keys. He looked to the door from where he sat on the living room, watching as you trudged in the brown bags of groceries. You kicked the door closed and placed the bags in the kitchen bench, never sparing him a look. He could sense that you didn’t want to be around him, he could always sense it. He’s had years of experience with being ignored nor wanted. He knew when to take his leave, so he left for the bedroom, never sparing you a sound of his departure.
You saw Loki on the chaise when you walked in. You blatantly ignored him, but he was on the couch. The only indication you got that he left was when you heard the bedroom door close. You were fixing everything you had bought to the cupboards and the pantry when you just heard the soft click of the door closing. You felt bad with how distant you two were being but what stung more is that he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as you that he had to leave. You wanted to make things right. You were thinking of things to say as you put away the vegetables, but he seemed to want the opposite.
You put everything away and started making supper, finishing an hour or two later. Loki still hasn’t left the bedroom, though you did hear the shower run a few minutes prior, so you ate by yourself, wallowing in your thoughts about the mission and Loki.
Your bowl was half gone when he emerged from the room and moved to where you were eating on the table. You had prepared him a bowl, which now sat at the other end of the table. You weren’t talking to each other, but you still care and love him. The soup had gone a bit cold, but it was there, and he sat and ate it anyways.
Both of you stayed silent, neither breaking the silence as the tension grew thick. You quickly finished the rest of your meal before standing abruptly to start cleaning up. You let the bowl rinse and soak in the sink while you stored the leftovers in a container and to the fridge. You had put more than enough on his bowl, so you were sure he wouldn’t be asking for seconds. You quickly washed the dishes whilst he ate while reading his book. He was nearly done when you left the kitchen and proceeded to the bathroom.
He let out a sigh and dropped his book when he heard the shower running. He has been staring at the very same paragraph over and over but not once has he actually paid attention to the text let alone understood it. He was hoping to break the ice between you two, but he froze, missing his chance.
He rinsed his own dish and made sure everything was good and locked up before he went back to the bedroom, preparing to go to bed.
You came out a few minutes later, steam billowing from the ensuite and following you. Your hair was wrapped up in a towel, your body clad in the oversized jumper you adored, with a nightie underneath. You still refused to acknowledge him as you made your way to the closet, grabbing a spare comforter.
This got Loki’s attention and was what broke the silence of the room, really the silence you have both established since the argument earlier.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked as he stopped fluffing the pillow in his hold. Your pillow.
‘I have a few case files to read and paperwork to do so… I’m staying in the living room’ you stated, hardly with any emotion, tugging at the comforter from the top shelf.
‘And the need for a blanket?’ he questioned again, looking over your well bundled figure. The sweater you had was thick and big enough to cover your legs if you were truly that cold, he knew that and the fact that you only use blankets whenever you were going to sleep.
‘It’s likely I’ll fall asleep on the couch so I’m preparing for the inevitable. To put it bluntly, I’m sleeping on the couch’ you say, finally turning around to see him holding your pillow before you moved to leave the room.
All Loki could do was nod, clenching his jaw as his hands dropped your pillow and watch as you left the room. He couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t will his lips to move in protest and just accepted what was going to happen. He didn’t want to force you seeing how that went earlier, so he let it… you, go do what you wish. He didn’t want to lose you and he’d do anything and everything to avoid that.
He got cleaned up in the bathroom before he went to bed. He couldn’t sleep and for hours he’s spent it staring up at the ceiling. Once he'd learned to sleep with you by his side, it was harder now to do so without you and the lingering thoughts of your fight earlier kept him company.
It took a while before the fatigue finally succumbed to him, his mind too tired to do anything that it finally forfeited and let him rest.
You on the other hand, haven’t slept at all. Not a wink of it. You spent a bit writing up some reports and looking over at some case files but after you found that you couldn’t focus, you packed everything up and tried to get some sleep. Tried. You really did but as tired as your body was, your mind worked wonders in keeping you up.
The fight you had was your fore thought, mainly the look in Loki’s eyes when you said you weren’t sleeping in the same room as him. He always tried to look impassive in front of others but with you, his eyes held so many expressions of love and adoration, you saw none of that as he held your pillow.
You felt bad leaving him alone. The gesture alone of fixing your side of the bed was heart-warming, that it made you feel like a monster when you saw the look he gave you. Of absolute disappointment? It wasn’t the right word, but you felt like you took the one good thing he had and crushed it in front of him.
You tried to stave off such thoughts, thinking of your task for tomorrow and such but it wasn’t any use. Your mind was going miles per minute, and you just couldn’t keep up. You stayed on the couch for hours, laying on the furniture as your eyes stayed transfixed on a spiderweb on the ceiling. You grew restless overtime so the idea of making tea came to mind.
You thought it a good idea for a cup to help you, so you finally got up. You took the towel you used from the coffee table and hung it on a chair as you turned the kettle on. You grabbed a cup from the drying rack and dropped the bag of chamomile you got from the jar, as you waited for the water to boil.
It was then you heard a whimper. It came fast and low, you were beginning to think that you imagined it when you heard it again. You left the cup sitting on the counter as you went to investigate, looking all around the open space of the flat until it finally registered to you that it was coming from the bedroom.
Loki…
Fast steps quickly took you to the door of the room, which was left open and from where you stood, you heard his cries clearly. The room, gloomy when you entered had scarcely any light. The only source came from the dim lighting from the hall and the sliver of moonlight seeping through the curtains, but it was enough to help you at least see figures.
You moved to the general area of where the bed was and there you saw his figure, trembling slightly. From what you saw as your eyes further adjusted to the darkness, he laid on his side, his shirt damp with sweat, his face glistening and his hair sticking all over his neck and cheeks. He had a pillow in his hold, his head buried in the cushion, but the muffled whines and whimpers still persisted to reach your ears. It was your pillow.
It had been a long while since these terrible nightmares have plagued his nights. The last was far too long ago you hardly remembered it anymore. You remember how he once told you about it having something to do with you sleeping by his side. That something about you just calmed him and made his mind come to a peaceful state. The guilt you felt increased tenfold as the regret of leaving him alone ate you alive. You didn’t… you don’t… you couldn’t have imagined how much you had helped him without even realizing and now leaving him to his own devices… you felt like a pompous prick.
You sped to his side, whispering his name in hopes to arouse him but it proved to be futile.
You sat beside him, turning to the side to face figure. A finger reached to tuck the damp locks behinds his ears as you whispered his name again, hoping to get through his thoughts but it still wasn’t working. Your hands moved to cradle the side of his face, your thumb caressing his cheek in hopes to stir him as you continued to say his name.
‘Loki’ you said softly, knowing using any other tone or pitch would only frighten him further. You moved your head next to his, your body twisted in an awkward position, but you couldn’t care less. You continued to whisper his name close to his ear, your thumbs caressing those sharp angled cheeks until he finally stirred.
You felt it. That light shake of his head as he finally starts rouse, as if shaking off fatigue and merciless thoughts that haunted his mind. You pulled away a bit to see him properly, wiping the beads of sweat that coated most of his forehead with the sleeve of your jumper as your other hand continued their gentle caress on his cheeks. He had a furrow that pulled his brows together and normally you would have found it adorable but right now you only hoped to remove it.
He blinked slowly, gathering his bearings to check if he was truly out of the agonizing torment his mind had conjured. He was losing you. It was scene after scene of ways he loses you and all of it was his fault. From you leaving him after an argument, to the image of the mad titan snapping your neck in his grasp as he watched. Each scenario broke him in every way, and he just couldn’t bare it.
The sight was still fresh in his mind as he finally started to ebb away from the drowse of sleep. Then as panic set him as he realized and processed what had happened, he didn’t notice the soft whisper of his name or the caress of your delicate fingers. He was on the verge of complete panic, tears welling up his eyes when he felt it. You.
Your voice. You touch. Your scent. Everything. It all enveloped him to the point It became overwhelming, but he wanted it. To suffocate in everything you, to banish those horrid thoughts away.
‘y/n?’ he whispered meekly, still questioning whether he was still in the throughs of his nightmare.
‘I’m here, It’s okay. It’s just a nightmare’ you replied as tears started to pour from his eyes and cascade down his cheeks.
‘I’m sorry, I-I’m sorry, p-please don’t leave me’ he heaved, his voice shaking with every word, it broke your heart to hear him so broken. His arms moved to wrap around you, having a tight hold on your waist, leaving the pillow, as he wept.
You could only do so much to keep your own tears at bay, but you managed to stay strong. Your fingers wiped much of the tears, but they only continued to flow so you pulled him in to hide in the crook of your neck.
‘Shhh darling. It’s alright, I’m here, I promise’ you said in his ear, knowing his cries would only muffle his hearing. He cried and cried, apologizing just as much in between but you still dismissed every single one.
‘Shhhh, you’re okay darling. It’s only a nightmare, it’s alright’ you moved your body to lay on the bed fully, settling beside him comfortably as you held him tight. Your fingers weaved through his obsidian locks, scratching his scalp in hopes to console and comfort him in anyway as he continued to heave on the crook of your neck.
It broke your heart to see him like this. Frightened to the bone like a little boy, shivering as if dunk in the oceans of the arctic. All those years of suffering topped his insecurities and the lack assurance and consoling care throughout most of his life… of course he was afraid. Of the possibilities this life held. He’d seen the worst parts of it, of course id be difficult to peer outside that little protective box he hid in. And your argument certainly didn’t help matters.
He cried for a while and you let him. Bare his vulnerability to you and it was your honour to be shown this fragile part of him. You’d treasure the trust he had in you, to keep him safe in times like these. You wouldn’t let anything happen to him, especially like this. You love him too much.
He calmed down after a little while, still letting out soft sniffs and whimpers every once and a while, but he had calmed down. You placed a soft kiss on his temple, an assurance of sorts before pulling back to face him but his grip only tightened, a whine escaping his lips as he hid himself further in the safety of your hair.
He didn’t want you to pull away for fear of you having enough of him, but he wouldn’t have it. He couldn’t.
You hushed him softly, running a hand through his inky locks and caressing his scalp, assuring him you weren’t going anywhere and only meant to talk to him. He was reluctant but he gave in, nodding the slightest bit before pulling away to face you.
His face was red, eyes bloodshot and puffy around the eyelids, looking down and anywhere but at you. Streaks of tears, dry and fresh cascaded down his sharp features, causing his unruly hair to stick. The look he gave you completely broke your heart, rendering it to mush whilst he had the decency to look so heartbroken.
You kept your composure as a finger swiped a way those stray locks, tucking it behind his ear before he nuzzled in the warms of your palm. Your thumb glided along the prominent angle of his zygoma, brushing away whatever moisture was left until you tilted his head up, by the chin, to look at you. His beautiful emerald eyes shimmered with unshed tears however he still won’t look you in the eyes.
‘Loki’ his name came off your lips in a soft whisper, finally grabbing his attention. Now that you finally had it though, all words seem to have left you, your thoughts drawing blank. A sigh left your lips as you let your head drop to his, your foreheads pressed together as you closed your eyes.
‘I’m sorry’ you said blankly, your hand rising to come through his locks and to scratch his scalp. Whether it was for his comfort or your distraction, you wouldn’t know.
He shook his head, dismissing your apology. Half of him didn’t know what you were apologizing for yet the other had an idea as to what, and even if it truly was what you were thinking, he knew that it was his fault.
‘No, don’t apologize. It’s my fault, I shouldn’t have treated you as such, but please darling, forgive me. I cannot lose you, please. Don’t… don’t leave me’ he practically begged. He really couldn’t lose you. He just wouldn’t know what to do if he did, but he just knows he won’t survive it.
‘No, I must apologize’ you argued, continuing on before he could cut you off ‘My actions weren’t acceptable, but Loki… We cannot keep going on like this. I am my own person, I refuse to told what to do, let alone what I can’t. I refuse to be caged in the four walls of this flat like some treasured bird, I’m not. I will not be restrained. By some illness nor God or man. This won’t work if that is what you want’.
‘I know, I know. I-It’s not, It’s not what I want. I’m sorry but darling, I just can’t lose you. I can’t. I won’t survive it. Please, I won’t do it again, just please don’t leave me.’ He sobbed, dropping his head back down the crook of your neck and he held you in a tight embrace. You understood what he meant; you don’t think you could survive losing him too.
‘I won’t. I’m not leaving you. I would never. I'm staying’ You affirmed. You really wouldn’t, but you won’t stand being coddled to the brim.
You held on to each other tightly for a while. Just letting the others presence calm one another. Loki hidden in the arch of your shoulder, arms wrapped around your waist, while you laid your head on top of his, a hand mindlessly raking trough his gorgeous locks. It proved to be comforting for the both of you, evidently.
‘I only meant to protect you’ he mumbled with a sniff out of nowhere.
‘I understand, my love. And the best I could do is promise to be safe and extra careful. I won’t take too risky missions if that gives you a peace of mind.’ You offered. You knew he only meant well and cared for your safety. You love your job but often times, it was too dangerous, even for your standards after everything. Taking fewer and safer missions wasn’t a problem. As long as you had worked to do that involved helping people, you were satisfied.
You felt him nod his head lightly at the suggestion, causing a soft smile to bloom from your lips before placing a soft kiss on the crown of his head. You didn’t see it but a small smile curved his lips as well at the feel of your lips on his skin. The touch starved part of him relishing in these small moments of affection like treasure.
Your free hand moved to caress his back when you felt how damp the fabric of his top was. The sweat he had worked up earlier still hasn’t dried and you knew how uncomfortable he would get bathing in the slightest bit of dirt, hence why you thought of getting him cleaned.
You place another kiss on his cheek before attempting to untangle yourself from him. The events of the nights had taxed the god, but you wanted to get him at least a bit clean before he fully dozed off however, as you tried to get off his loving embrace, his grip only tightened, his droopy eyes opening wide to see the commotion.
‘Shhh, It’s alright. I just have to head out to the kitchen to check something and I promise, I will be right back my love’ you said softly to his ear, hoping his drowse would keep. He gave a tired huff before reluctantly setting you free. Your grin only grew wider, and you place a quick peck on his lips before you scrambled off the bed.
You quickly checked the kitchen to see if the kettle hadn’t burned and once assured, you left it as it was and headed to the loo to get what was needed. You took a small towel from the cupboard bellow the sink and ran it under the water to get it wet. Once it was fully soaked, you wrang the excess water from the towel and quickly grabbed a spare shirt from the wardrobe before going back to the bedroom.
The darling god had his eyes closed with your pillow once again tight in his grasp. This time, the sight made you smile. At how adorable he looked, face squashed on the cushion. You could tell how exhausted he was though, so you made haste in getting him set for night’s (hopefully) peaceful rest.
You sat beside him on the bed, the shifting of the mattress making him dare open an eye just as you were about to rouse him. He gave you that small charming smile of his when he saw you and your hand moved to cup his cheek, letting the pad of your thumb caress his now dried cheeks.
‘Can you sit up for me, luv’ you asked, leaning down to his ear. He gave you a faint nod before you sat back and helped him up. The fatigue was really getting on to him as he laid his head on your shoulder, so you made sure to finish as soon as possible to finally let him have a good night’s rest.
You gathered his hair into a pony with one hand and held it away, while the other wiped the damp cloth on the back of his neck. He flinched at the contact, having been spared a warning, you promptly apologized and moved as quickly as you could.
You wiped his face with great care, before you pulled his shirt off and threw it on the nightstand, to be put on the hamper after you were done. You wiped him all over until you deemed it enough and gave him the spare shirt. He put it on and just before you could leave the bed again, he took your hand. He gave you a pleading look that spoke volumes, and how could you resist when he gave you those doe eyes.
You gave him a soft smile, leaving the little towel beside the shirt and made your way to your spot on the bed. You got comfortable before you looked at him, staring at you with great fondness, it made you bashful yet you still opened your arms, welcoming him in to be held, which with great eager, he accepted. He laid beside you, wrapping his arms around your torso as he inhaled the scent of your hair, a welcome comfort after the course of the night.
You pulled the covers up to cover you both, but the feel of his soft lips just made you forget about everything but him, making you snuggle closer in his hold.
He had his head laid on the top of yours, his arms tied around you and your legs intertwined. An arm of yours cradled the back of his head, tangling to the roots of his inky locks while the other drew abstracts on his back. You held each other, never saying a word yet the silence was finally comfortable. A tranquil state you two could once again relish.
The silence however gave your mind room to intrude the peace, thinking of how things got to this point. From the argument, to the dismiss of each other’s presence and up until the confession after the dreadful nightmare, you admit that parts of how this ended up being the conclusion of the day, was your fault. Yes, Loki had his own mistakes in the matter, but you could have taken a point and fixed it. Why didn’t you get a grip and made the effort to make things better. You shouldn’t ha…
A deep sigh broke you out of your trance. A squeeze, you felt you were given as arms around waist tightened and you were pulled impossibly closer to the mass holding you.
‘I can hear your gears turning, darling’ Loki mumbled, followed by a small chuckle, breaking the deafening comfort of silence. The sound was well welcomed after the tension of the day.
‘Sorry, luv. Go back to sleep’ you reply, scratching his scalp. He hummed in response, a smile pressing against your hair before a quick peck was planted on the top of your head. You grinned, closing your eyes, hoping to finally get consumed by the black oblivion that was rest.
The gentle caress on your arm helped, lulling you to a peaceful state of mind. Loki knew what helped you too.
Eventually the night drew on, painting the dark skies with stars as the two held each other, succumbing to blissful state of peace promised by slumber.
The night was a lesson for the two. To understand the other, to work out their problems and to never go to bed angry.
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Synovus: A Wishing Star
[Canonically, this takes place before ‘Call Me Menace’ - which is why there’s a notable lack of Alexandria and Minerva in this segment. This was requested by an Anon, with the prompt of Synovus being asked for by a Make a Wish child, through the Make a Wish foundation.]
[Trigger warnings for childhood cancer, descriptions of illness and hospitals, and discussions of suicide. Reference is also made to the possibility of substance abuse. Unlike most of my writing, for this, I cannot promise you will find this ending happy.]
“Your name came up today,” Rosie called up to you, laboriously walking laps around the cafeteria.
“Of course it did.” You replied laconically, keeping a careful eye on her progress from a perch in the rafters. Your shadows were ready to catch and steady her if she stumbled, though you both pretended you were too occupied with your knitting. “I am an incredibly interesting person. On a completely unrelated note, tell Dr. Grouch that he will receive payment shortly.”
That wasn’t an epithet, ‘Dr. Grouch.’ It was genuinely the man’s name. Dr. Jeremy Grouch, a pediatric cancer specialist, who had the good fortune of being the best choice for you to kidnap when Rosie had finally told you why she’d been half-joking about retirement. He was no longer your ‘guest,’ having returned to the mainland full time a few weeks prior, but he still communicated with Rosie quite often.
A bark of laughter had Rosie pausing, out of breath, to brace herself against the wall. She turned to rest her back against it, but since she didn’t sit, you didn’t jump down to see if she was alright. Even if you had stopped knitting.
“Not for the money.” Rosie assured you, when she had caught her breath enough to reply without wheezing. “He thinks you’re more than generous.”
“Dr. Grouch could stand to live up to his name a bit more.” You tsk’ed, “I kidnapped him, forced him to work for me. He didn’t even haggle.”
Not that this would have done him much good in the beginning. Historically, you did not respond well to threats or extortion. But you did respect a good hustle, and you were fairly certain that Dr. Grouch had been aware he could’ve pushed for more of a reward once Rosie was declared in remission. He hadn’t taken the opportunity.
“He isn’t hurting for wealth.” Rosie pointed out. The sardonic note to her voice had made you smile. You and your minions were in the business of exploiting greed and committing evils, but that did not make any of you less inclined to judge others for anything less than your own morality demanded. And that often included each other.
But Rosie’s tone shifted, becoming something lighter, “He said one of his patients asked to meet you.”
“What?”
“One of his patients wants to meet you.” Rosie repeated patiently. “Wished for it, even.”
You forced your tone to remain light, glad you were up in the rafters where she couldn’t see your body language. “Well, there’s a rarity. How many people ever say ‘I wish to meet Synovus?’”
Rosie sighed. “Usually just people who want to kill you.”
“Are we certain that isn’t what the child wants? I’m assuming it’s a child, adults usually know better.” You picked up another stitch, fumbled it, did it again. This time it stuck.
It wasn’t the idea of a child trying to kill you that had you so… disoriented. You’d been responsible for the deaths of a lot of parents over the years - you wouldn’t be surprised if there had been hundreds of vendettas sworn against you, or all villain kind, or even the heroes who had failed to stop you, over the years. But kids - children - you had a soft spot for.
You remembered too clearly what it was like to be young, sheltered, and out of control of your life. It was debatable, some days, how much of that still applied to you in some way or another.
“I’d bet on the kid.” Rosie remarked.
“I-“ You twirled one knitting needle, intending to point it at her, and snagged it in the trailing end of your yarn instead. It didn’t matter, because she couldn’t see you. “- take offense on the child’s behalf that you would doubt them.”
“Oh yeah?” Rosie perked up, “Offended enough to defend their honor in person?”
Frowning, you set down your knitting again. “What are you asking me here, Rosie?”
“I want to know if you’ll honor the kid’s Wish.”
There was something in the way she said it that gave you pause. You mulled it over.
“When you say ‘wish,’ you don’t just mean a general expressed desire, do you.”
It wasn’t much of a question, but Rosie answered anyway, “Nope. I mean the Wish. Apparently they hadn’t wanted to say anything, because they didn’t think anyone would let them, but they were talking to Dr. Grouch, and asked where he’d been -“
You groaned. You’d been assured of his adherence to HIPAA, but hadn’t pushed too hard on the ‘never tell anyone where you’ve been, ever, on pain of excruciatingly over described death’ angle. Maybe you should’ve.
“- yeah, I know, but apparently he only told the kid and asked them to keep it a secret, and the kid ‘lit up like it was Christmas.’” Rosie relayed this information, complete with air quotes, without moving from the wall.
To avoid thinking about the idea of being anyone’s last, true Wish - the big W, the heart’s desire, the crown of a bucket list - you instead thought about how Rosie had trapped you. You couldn’t just disappear because then she’d be alone, and could still collapse. You couldn’t call her physical therapy completed for the day yet either, because she hadn’t finished this lap.
Evil, your minions. Absolutely evil.
You sighed, sure Rosie would feel it, even if she couldn’t hear it at this distance. “Very well.” You conceded, morose. “When are we meeting this little miscreant?”
—-
Hospitals were not easy for you to break into. Not when you were in costume, at least. You could get terrifyingly far in a white coat with a coffee cup and a clipboard, but that came down to timing and confidence and an aura of ‘fuck off, I am incredibly busy’ that you’ve always felt most doctors cultivated on purpose.
That didn’t really work when you were in all black with a cape and a helmet. And this was a children’s cancer ward, so it wasn’t like you could just wait till everyone went home. Windows didn’t open up here either.
So you’d had Dr. Grouch let you in from the helipad on the roof.
“You’ve taken the precautions I requested?” He asked, as you paused outside of the ward itself. “Fully clean, as you would have for Ms. Rosie? You will not touch anything you do not have to, and will call for assistance if she seems overwrought?”
“Yes, Dr. Grouch.” You replied, accepting another antiseptic wipe for your gloves. “I am here to answer a summons. That is all. I swear that your charge will not come to harm from me.”
You did not point out he had been the one to arrange this meeting. His face made a strange expression, as though he were surprised, and surprised at being surprised, and a bit disappointed in himself for that sequence of events. Still, he recovered quickly.
“At least I do not have to remind you to wear a mask.” He granted, in an attempt at levity. Luckily for you both, you didn’t actually need to reply, because he was already triggering the ward doors for you to enter.
While Grouch moved to the ward station, motioning to calm the various staff on duty, you moved with purpose for the room you’d been directed to earlier. Grouch was telling the staff that he’d found someone willing to stand in for you, as a way of reassuring them. You weren’t sure they’d buy it, but it really wasn’t your problem for the moment.
You moved quietly. You weren’t sure whether or which other rooms were occupied, and you didn’t intend to scare anyone who hadn’t requested to see you tonight. For that same reason, you double checked the number on the door you opened, and lifted it faintly on its hinges, that it would open smoothly and as silently as you could make it.
The room beyond was dim, if not completely dark. The corridor behind you was also dimmed for the night cycle, trying to give the ward’s occupants a chance at sleeping, though the ward station was still well-illuminated. You made sure its light wouldn’t give you a halo or shadow as you entered, and quietly shut the door behind yourself.
You aren’t familiar enough with hospitals to say whether this room is average or not. Tiled floors, the bed that is also a gurney, sparse furniture, windows on the far wall. There are signs of life here, in the form of some decaying flowers on the dresser, with several cards propped around their vase where the bed’s occupant can see. A television is mounted near the ceiling on an extendable arm, but it’s off for now.
There’s a few sources of dim light - the distant aura of the streetlights casts the bars supporting the windows on the wall across from the bed. A floor light illuminates the tile enough to show any potential tripping hazards. The odd blinking light on the medical equipment provides a dash of color to the gloom.
And in the bed, there is a lump curled on its side, as far as the IV line and monitors will allow it, blankets pulled tight over the shoulder and tucked near the chin. Dr. Grouch told you some basics about the patient before you reached this floor, so you know who you are supposed to be meeting. You feel bad for waking her, but you’ve been assured she doesn’t sleep well anyway, and is likely awake. Judging by the faint rustling of a body’s small movements, that judgement was accurate.
You are reminded of Dr. Grouch’s planned lie, out in the hall. You do not want this child to think they are being tricked. So you stay where you are, in the deeper shadow of the door-well, and you summon your shadows to life.
The window frame shadows make an excellent trellis for your branching additions - they stretch out, forming words in deeper darkness than the natural shadow from which they are woven. If you are mistaken, if this is the wrong room, if the girl sleeps, you won’t have disturbed them.
But you see the streetlight illuminate the planes of a too-sharp face as it turns to focus bleary eyes on what you’ve written.
Hello, Loralai.
At fourteen years old, Loralai should still have the roundness of youth. She does not. Nor is she quite skeletal, despite the advanced nature of her illness. It almost seems, in the half light, as though a slight push would be all that was necessary to send her in either direction: back to the hale softness of health, or further on to the sharp stillness of death.
She blinks. Her eyes widen, then narrow, then widen again. You belatedly wonder if perhaps she needs glasses. Or what if she’s dyslexic? Your shadow-words are hardly the easiest things to read. Damn it, Synovus, now is not the time for posturing and-
“Synovus?” Asks a breathless, whispering voice.
“In the flesh.” You reply, because you are a melodramatic moron. Still, your voice is quiet, and you remain unmoving.
There’s some more rustling. The bed is already mostly elevated, so Loralai doesn’t need to try and sit up so much as readjust how she’s sitting. There’s a click of a lamp - and then there’s a real light source in the room, even if it’s dulled by the lampshade.
You step forward as Loralai rubs the spots from her vision with one hand. There’s an IV catheter taped to the back of it from some recent event, the bruising around it just beginning to ripen. You don’t remember what that might mean, if anything.
As she gets her vision back and examines you, you turn your helmet, pretending to survey the room. Eyes bright with curiosity flick from the helmet to the cape to the patterns of padding over your torso. She does not seem scared, but then, why would she be? Dr. Grouch had informed you she was well aware her case was terminal. You may be a specter of death to some people, but this child has already started staring down the real thing.
“You are Loralai Weber?” You ask, turning back to face her directly.
She nods, leaning back against her pillows. You can see exhaustion on every line of her too-young face, but it seems not to have any power over her at the moment. “Yes. I didn’t think you’d actually come to see me.”
You gesture aimlessly, “I am not often asked for.” You reply candidly. “You’ve piqued my interest. And.. one could say I was in the neighborhood.”
Loralai’s expression brightens, “Are you going to attack the hospital?”
You frown. The prospect seems to excite her. Still, you keep your voice casual, noncommittal, “Not tonight, at least.”
“Damn.” Loralai sounds disappointed now. You muffle your amusement at her cursing as she continues, “Any time soon, maybe? Like, in the next week?”
She can’t see you raise your brows, so you tilt your head to one side, “You sound almost hopeful, Ms. Weber. Why could that be?”
Loralai averts her gaze for a moment, plucking slowly at the top blanket of her bed. This is the moment of truth, really. You spent hours trying to figure out what you might be asked for:
Could you kill someone for her? A doctor, a nurse, another patient who was really annoying? Or could you attack the hospital, so she could help you wreak havoc, and have the chance to feel as powerful as a Villain? Alternatively, what if she were the one to stop you? You were dreading the deathbed request that you ‘turn good,’ but that doesn’t seem to be forthcoming. Maybe she simply wishes to witness a hero battle up close, and needs you to initiate it. Or-
“I want you to kill me.”
You freeze. Most of you, anyway, as your stomach seems to have left out the ground floor entrance. You had not anticipated this. You feel like you should have.
Remorseless for your shock, Loralai continues, managing to look directly at your helmet face as her words spill over each other, “I know I’m dying, and that I don’t have long left, but I’ve been dying for months, and I just feel worse and worse every day, and I - I want to die fast, not slow. I want it to be over. You - you could make it quick for me, couldn’t you?”
You have not been inclined towards religion for a very long time. Yet, in this moment, you see the appeal of dropping to your knees and offering a fervent prayer of gratitude to whoever or whatever might be listening that you gave Dr. Grouch your word in the hall. You do not want to answer Loralai’s question, or know what your answer would be. You refuse to acknowledge the burgeoning answer within you.
The horror of it all still threatens to overwhelm you. The shadows in the room thicken, automatically reaching for you to provide shelter from unfortunate truths and uncomfortable conversation. This is why she asked for you. Because you are evil. Because you are terrible enough to meet a child face to face and kill them at their own request. Because you are not beholden to law, morality, or sympathy.
The black pit of despair yawns, and it is only by the barest shred of your willpower that you stay out of it - as awful as you feel in this moment, as much as you know you have only delayed your own suffering, the fact remains: you are not the one dying here.
It does not matter how you feel, looking at someone younger than you were when you finally found freedom, and knowing they will never reach the same age, the same feeling. It does not matter how you feel about their request. Loralai Weber sits in a hospital bed, terminal at 14 years old, and she is suffering badly enough to seek the Scourge of the West Coast.
So you scrape yourself together, and move to the end of her bed.
“May I sit?”
Loralai nods, brow still furrowed, and shuffles her feet so you can avoid accidentally sitting on them. You perch there, partially leaning on the rail at the foot of the bed, and watch her for a long moment.
“Yes.” You say, finally. “I could make your death swift. There is little you could do to stop me.”
You have Loralai’s undivided attention. When you stop speaking, she waits. The clearer it becomes that you will not say more, the further her face falls. “Could.” She says tonelessly. “But won’t.”
“No.” You confirm quietly. “I will not.”
“Why?” Loralai cries. She tries to gesture to herself, to the room that she’s in. “You’ve killed so many people! What’s one more to you? Why not me? Is it - do you want me to suffer, is that it? Would this be too merciful for you?”
You let her yell, and gesture, even when she comes within several inches of you. “No, Loralai. I do not want you to suffer. But nor do I think this would be an act of mercy.” You avoid addressing the issue of your body count.
Loralai looks offended and confused, gaping at you for a moment. “Does this look like a life worth living?” She demands.
Your answer is without hesitation, “Yes.”
The girl’s face contorts with incredulity, then despair, then anger. Her eyes are increasingly red-rimmed, and there’s a wet quality to her wavering voice when she responds, “Fuck you.”
Grimly, you brace yourself for much worse before the night is over. She hasn’t ordered you out yet, so you have to attempt to explain. Even if you cannot give her what she wants, you can be an outlet for her anger, and the face she cannot show to her doctors.
“There are cards on the dresser.” You point out.
“Classmates I’ve never even met.” Loralai responds flatly.
“Flowers, too.”
“Another parent bought some for the whole floor after their kid bit it. It’s a pity gift to make them feel better, nothing to do with me.”
“You still have family.”
“So they should get the honor and joy of watching me die? Paying a fortune for every extra hour I sit here and wait for it to be my turn?”
“It is worth it, to them.” You explain, matter-of-fact. “Every penny. Every extra shift. Every loan. Every night on your fold-out couch. How did you convince your mother not to be here tonight?”
Loralai flinches. “She has a bad back.” She mutters, “She - it’s better for her to be home, in a real bed. And so what if it’s worth it to them? What if it’s not worth it to me? Can’t I choose how and when I die?”
You sigh, “If that were true, the world would be full of immortals. And suicides. You realize that is what you asked of me, yes? An assisted suicide?”
Loralai draws back at the word, but doesn’t deny it. “It’s not like it would be anything new for you.”
The truth of that statement is painful. For a moment, you hear a distant ringing with no physical source. You are acutely aware of the shadows in this room - their patterns under the bed, on the wall, the sky behind the window, in the spaces under your skin-
“I am not your tool.” You rasp, before remembering that Loralai couldn’t possibly know about your past. She is a teenager. A hurt one. They always have a gift for striking true, even when they lash out blindly.
You take a deep breath, and suppress the shadows again. You don’t want to know how far up your arms they reached before you regained your senses. “And I will not be baited into killing you either. You are right - I’ve killed. Plenty. I will again. But I do so for my own reasons, and not because someone asks me to. You asked for me by name, Ms. Weber, out of all of the villains on the West Coast, so I’m guessing you know that.”
Loralai opens her mouth to respond - then looks away.
“You have every right to be angry.” You continue into the silence, “With me, with the people around you. With the doctors and nurses for how often they check in and the poking and prodding they do. With the kitchen for the quality of the hospital food. With your parents for not sparing you this life, or being overbearing in their concern, or not being able to balance what it is you really need.”
You pause. Loralai doesn’t respond. You continue, “I would be angry. I would be furious with every car that passed by and honked its horn, because I’m stuck up here dying, and they only care about the stupid traffic. And I would be even more angry about the fact I can’t tell anyone that without becoming the bad guy, who can’t take their situation with grace.”
“But you won’t kill me.” Loralai says finally, “Before I do something I regret. Or become a husk of myself.”
This time, it’s your turn to remain silent. Loralai turns to look at you, even if she can’t find your eyes in the mask. She’s crying now, but so far managing to hold off actual sobs, “Why can’t I be selfish? Just once?”
You offer her your hands, and aren’t surprised or offended when she doesn’t take them.
“You should be selfish.” You tell her, and the ferocity in your voice takes her aback. “You should be as selfish and greedy as you can. You should seize every moment - every conversation with your parents, every breath of conditioned air, every chance you get to actually smile. Even if you only get one more of those, Loralai, it’s one more than you would get if I did what you’ve asked. Dying isn’t selfish. It isn’t selfless either. It just is, the same way taxes are due and commercials always take too long and the drivers outside your window have road rage. It’ll happen whether you want it to or not. Don’t lean into it.”
Converse to your own advice, you lean towards Loralai, adding, “Kick the bastard in the balls.”
On reflex, she gives you a confused, watery half-smile.
“Yes!” You cry, as though this is a great victory. “Just like that! Rip and tear your joy from the universe.”
That wins you a snort - though the amusement doesn’t last.
“I’m not strong enough to do that.” Loralai deflects, turning a hand over in your general direction. “I’m not like you. I can’t literally steal happiness from - banks, or whatever it is you rob.”
“Banks.” You admit, “Though usually their corporate offices instead of the average buildings. Irrelevant, however: how many of my fights do you actually see me win?”
Loralai frowned. “Uh….”
You don’t leave her hanging long, “It depends on your definition of ‘victory’ really - but if I count it like the heroes do, where a victory is when I have my opponent in my custody, I haven’t won a single fight in over ten years. My track record is abysmal.”
(This is not strictly true - but it does count for your fights with heroes. Interpersonal villain matters you handle rarely make the news.)
“So, what, you’re bad at your job?” Loralai says bluntly, sarcasm tingeing her voice.
“I’m fantastic at my job.” You can’t help the rebuttal, it’s too much in your nature. “Because even if I don’t take down the hero who comes after me - and let’s face it, they’ll keep sending them endlessly, it’s exhausting - I still do what I set out to do. Sometimes that’s steal something. Kill someone. Make a scene. On bad days, just get out and away. And if you use that metric, well, darling, my track record is spectacular.”
Loralai considers this for a moment, staring into the middle distance between you. It’s impossible to figure out what she’s actually thinking of.
“Your metaphors suck.”
Well okay then. “My metaphors are elegant contrivances -“ You give up when Loralai gives you a look, and sigh instead.
Still, what you’ve said seems to have made some difference. Loralai has stopped crying, and she doesn’t feel as.. raw, as before. You hope it’s the right kind of difference, and that you haven’t just chased her further into a shell. You wait for her to break the silence again.
“So you think I should live, for the people around me?” She challenges, indicating the flowers and cards. You both know that’s only a fragment of your argument, but you’re willing to play ball.
“Nope.” You reply succinctly. “I think you should live for you and your own experiences. However, I think you are currently in a position where you have to see your joys in others before you can see them for yourself. If they anchor you, use it.”
She’s staring at you now, expression unreadable. “And you think that will get better.”
You almost answer ‘yes’ - but you know that isn’t quite what she’s asking. There’s a second half to that statement that is a question, left unspoken: ‘will it get better before I die?’
And for all of your lies, you answer her honestly. “I don’t know.”
Loralai nods. You want to clarify, to explain that even a chance is a chance worth taking. You want to give her some of your own rage at the world, the defiance that makes it possible to simply refuse to die. The conviction that let you kill a god.
No, maybe not that. You’re not sure that would be a blessing after all.
“Okay.” She says, after several moments. “Fine. I get to live. For now. But when I die -“ Loralai’s attention abandons the far wall and the middle distance, zeroing in on you, “- if my life gets any worse between now and then, if I don’t get any more good stuff like you’ve described, I’m haunting you.”
You believe her. “I believe you.” You say solemnly. “And there are few things in this world more terrifying than a teenage ghost. No, that isn’t sarcasm, I’m serious. Once-“
—-
You spend the rest of the hour telling stories of the teenaged ghost you’d met once in New Orleans, back when that wasn’t quite anyone’s territory. It’s not nearly enough time to share all of her stories - but it is enough that you remember her fondly, and smell the faint scent of bergamot and citrus that always heralded her presence.
When you spoke to her more regularly, you teased her about being a ghost who smelled like Irish Spring, and she ensured your cape got caught on everything it possibly could. You feel a tug on it, as you are moving to leave, and understand the prompt.
“Here.” You tell Loralai, unclasping your cape from your shoulders, and draping it over the bed.
“Does this have magic powers, or something? Is it bulletproof?” Loralai lifts it’s edge, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. She’s in higher spirits, but the bags under her eyes have deepened. She’s also cold, though you don’t think you’d be able to get her to admit it.
“Nah.”
“Then why would I want it?” Remarkable, how little your status matters to teenagers. You aren’t sure if it’s your curse or a trait of the species.
“Capes are cool.” You reply confidently.
There are other reasons too - it gives your ghost friend an anchor to stay with her better, it’s warm, it will remind her this wasn’t a dream. If her family needs to, they can sell it to cover some of the medical bills, since (unlike some heroes and villains) you rarely leave a trace behind, and collectors would love to get ahold of one of your capes. Actually, Tallflawes might even buy it at an exorbitant price, just to taunt you with it. But this isn’t a lie: capes are cool.
“Whatever.” Loralai says sleepily, resting back on her pillows, your cape tucked up under her chin. “Goodbye, Synovus.”
“Goodbye, Loralai Weber.” You say gently. You aren’t sure if she even notices your shadows flip the switch on the bedside lamp, returning the room to darkness. Your shadows muffle your exit back into the hall.
You leave as quickly as possible, after that.
—-
The good thing about being a dramatic fool on purpose, is that when you are having a public meltdown, it can appear as though you are simply performing again. The shadows contorting and swirling around you? Ah, Synovus, making an entrance. Disappearing between one blink and the next to the unobservant, because you’ve turned and booked it into the dark? A classic exit.
Your minions know you too well for that facade to hold. They also know you too well to ask.
You stalk down the halls, lights seeming to ripple in your wake with the amount of shadows you’re dragging, like a toddler with their blanket on their way to throw a tantrum. But you skip the training room. You wind up in the kitchen, as Oflok watches from a distance.
You spend an indeterminable amount of time staring at the collection of alcohol. You don’t indulge, because you are terrified of what might happen if you lose control of yourself. You know you are a walking bomb. Your minions can partake as they like, however, and today, reminded of how destructive you are, you want very badly to join them. To get wasted beyond memory.
“I want you to kill me.”
You get as far as reaching up one hand for a bottle. You don’t know which, you didn’t bother to read the labels. You lower your hand. Spin on your heel. And leave.
—-
It’s Rosie and Doll who hover in the corner, silent witnesses while you dig through the cabinets in the infirmary. You grab the first ampoule of a drug that looks like it would force you out of your mind that you can get your hands on. You have a tray laid out with syringe, bandages, tourniquet, disinfectant wipes, before you realize what you’re doing.
“Does this look like a life worth living?”
You walk out without a word.
—-
The grave at the bottom of the island is not well tended. It is not a monument to be remembered. This is the third time you have visited it since you stopped obsessively checking for signs of disturbances, in case it’s occupant decided to crawl back out.
You tell the empty space about Loralai Weber. What she looked like, what she asked of you, what that means. This time, you’re free to cry, though whether it’s for her or yourself, you’ll never be able to parse. By the end, you are screaming in the dark cave, knowing it’s all pointless at this stage in the game.
The man in the grave could heal himself, when he wanted. And very rarely, when he was convinced it was ‘appropriate,’ he could heal others too. He wouldn’t have counted Loralai Weber as ‘appropriate’ for his gift. You would. It doesn’t matter, though.
It’s the one part of his powers you never inherited.
—-
[Thank you for reading Synovus: A Wishing Star - if you want to read more of Synovus, you can find the rest of their stories on my blog, in the pinned post. Further, if you want to find out more about the Make A Wish Foundation, you can read stories of children they've helped (in rather different ways than Synovus) on their website, or donate here.]
[I do not have a personal story to share for Loralai's inspiration. However, I did tap into my experiences as a chronically ill individual, and the mental state I experienced both before and during treatment. There are still days I wonder as Loralai does - but I wholeheartedly believe as Synovus says: This life is worth living. It is for you too.]
#synovus#synoverse#Synovus: A Wishing Star#tw cancer#please dm me if you feel additional tags are necessary!#reader discretion advised#tw suicidal ideation#tw implied child death#tw self destructive behavior
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The Lost Girls of Camp Forevermore - Kim Fu
Summary: A group of young girls at sleepaway camp get stranded in the woods by themselves in Canada (sound familiar?). The narrative alternates between what happened in the woods, and a vignette from each girl in their adult life.
Yellowjackets connection: This book is so spiritually similar to Yellowjackets it’s wild. The way that we see what happened in the woods and flash forward to the adults and how it affected them. The way that it's partially about the viciousness that comes out when girls are left alone. The way that hierarchies break down in the woods. I find myself thinking about this book while watching Yellowjackets.
Is it queer?: only a very little with one character in her adult life
My Brilliant Friend - Elena Ferrante
Summary: Elena and Lila are two intelligent girls growing up in poverty in 1950’s Naples. They have an obsessive and competitive relationship. Elena is able to get an education when Lila is not, and their paths diverge here. The entire four-part book series follows their relationship and distinct lives into late adulthood.
Yellowjackets Connection: My Brilliant Friend is about a lot more than just female friendship, class differences foremost. But obsessive homoerotic female friendships and their complications are front and center. The Neapolitan series follows Elena and Lila as they grow into adults and have their own children, so it shows young women and the adults they grow into. Also has themes of trauma, unreliable narrators, patriarchy, jealousy, ambitious women.
If you follow my tumblr you know I will connect anything to MBF but Yellowjackets writers did it for me in the show. They literally said Shauna/Jackie = Elena/Lila. If you don’t remember, this is when adult Shauna has dinner with Jackie’s mom who says she’s reading MBF and that the girls in the book remind her so much of Shauna and Jackie. She meant it as an insult to Shauna but it really is a great comparison. Especially since Lila and Elena def had something vaguely fruity going on (but also for other, spoilery reasons). Elena Ferrante is pretty much the go-to when it comes to writing about complicated female friendships so it is not a surprise that they reference it in the show. If you are obsessed with the Shauna/Jackie “friendship” this book series is for you!
Is it queer? if you consider Jackie and Shauna’s relationship to be queer then yes. There is a lot of subtext and in the later books a little more than subtext.
Cat’s Eye - Margaret Atwood
Summary: A painter returns to where she grew up and memories that she blocked out of a traumatic childhood friendship resurface.
Yellowjackets connection: Women thinking about their traumatic friendships! And how these affected them going forward in life. The girls in this are a little younger than Yellowjackets girls but I think it is still a foundational text about traumatic female friendships and unreliable narrators. I am absolutely a Margaret Atwood apologist so don’t come for me (or do. I love messages in my inbox)
Is it queer?: no ):
Big Swiss - Jen Beagin
Summary: Greta is a transcriber for a sex therapist where she learns all sorts of intimate details of his clients. She becomes obsessed with a client and even starts a sexual relationship with her! She does not disclose her prior knowledge of this woman so things get messy.
Fun fact for Killing Eve fans: It is going to be made into a series starring Jodie Comer!
Yellowjackets connection: This is the only book on this list that doesn’t really flash between old and young versions of a character (a bit at the end). Yet I think it deserves to be on this list because messy queer women and obsession and mental illness. Also now that I am thinking about it actually the main character does think about her childhood in the woods a bit...
Is it queer?: The main relationship is between two women and they have a lot of sex. So, yes!
Trust Exercise - Susan Choi
Summary: Don’t want to spoil any of the big reveals but it’s vaguely about highschool theatre kids and their unhealthy dynamic with their abusive theatre teacher. Trigger warnings for statutory rape and general predatory behavior.
Yellowjackets connection: The reason I put this on my list is because it is about women in high school going through trauma and their adult selves dealing with it. It is about the stories they tell themselves to cope. It is about unreliable narrators. It is about narrative and truth and figuring out what actually happened. The book will not tell you directly, you have to discover it yourself (or read a review that explains it).
Is it queer? no ):
#yellowjackets#book reccomendatons#book recs#queer books#queer book recs#my lists#listen you know i love a good book rec list and this has just been sitting in my HEAD#close followers of my blog are SHOCKED I brought up elena ferrante.SHOCKED#I do truly believe all yellowjackets fans who like to read should read the lost girls of camp forevermore since it is SO similar#the lost girls of camp forevermore#my brilliant friend#cat's eye#trust exercise#big swiss
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woah my first time requesting off anon
anywyaydbsbbdb if requests are open i’ll req Scp 035 x ghost!reader where whenever 035 is a little mean/“manipulative” towards reader, reader just scares the shit out of him for a week as a “haha i get the last laugh” kinda thing BRHDHHDSJH
thanks! and if you don’t feel comfortable writing this, your free to decline/delete it, no worries! ^^ (if any part of my request doesn’t make sense lmk!)
035 x Ghost!Reader
I love you… WHO SAID THAT
Anyways, request are open thank you for requesting, i also love Ms. Pauling.
It is unclear how you two meet, but it you two had stick together for a long time ago.
Every time Dyo wakes up you had be there in a corner greeting him or just around even before he takes over a host.
Overall your friendship with him is okey, but in all friendships there are always flaws.. very big ones.
He would literally try to annoy you on purpose to help him cuz he says that ‘we are friends right? Then help me with x or y” But then ignores you or invalidates your feelings.
This had happen for a while, but you decide to put a stop at it.
Since you are a ghost, ghost tend to have those weird days where reality turned towards you and being around has become ills to the point of feeling like you were about to have panic attack, but never had it.
Those times Dyo thought since more vulnerable, the better.
Oh he thought wrong..
___
“Hey… how are yo friend?” Dyo said coming closer to you, as you were on a corner trying not to loose your mind.
“Leave me alone Dyo, im not in the mood to be manipulated by you” You spitted out.
“Me? Manipulate you? Never!” He said with his fake tone, but you didn’t reply only looking away hoping he had left you alone.
“I need a tiny favor from you” he said and then started to yap his life away on wanting to escape, but stop when he realize you weren’t listening.
“Oh come on, you know friends help each other! I always been there for you when remember when… when..” He tried looking for an example but immediately brush it off “that doesn’t matter” He said coming closer to you “But what matters is that friends help each other and.. and we are friend-“
“LEAVE ME ALONE” you yelled. You grew big and scary, you grew even bigger tha touch the ceiling and had to stretch out, everything around started floating, the cristal box and holder of 035 mask.
035 felt back and hit the floor as soon as you scream at him to leave you alone. One of the cameras that was on too of you ended up hitting him, he then ran out and and shouted for help. Foundation personal were confused as to what happen.
~~~
After that incident you were pretty much mad at him, as to for many time that he wouldn’t leave you alone when you were down.
With or without a host you will show up, in a corner making sure he can see you.
He would try to use telepathy for her, but be immediately shut down by thousands of whispers that he couldn’t keep up on what they were saying, changing his expression to a frown.
Sometimes you would shake his container, one time you shake it so hard it almost felt down.
You would come really close to him and look at him with unsettling eyes and show a reflection knowing that you were right behind him watching him.
Sometimes you would follow him making him paranoid, at the same tike you would move things around to purposely make him trip or fall.
One time you threw a guards head at full force at him, it missed but he got blood splashed.
Sometimes you would chase him, not in a comical way. He got even hurt one time and almost got in danger to which you save him too.
Of course he will force himself to apologize to you and say he wont do it again. He will eventually but less persistently. He couldn’t take the abuse any longer.
This sourt of give you a sense of security next time he will think twice before he even tries to mess with you.
—-
That is all y’all i hope you all enjoyed it!
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This was so fun to write! I hope you enjoy part 2!
Pairings: Jake Kiszka X Danny Wagner *ssslash
Warnings and tags: 18+ only, no minors! Adult themes including: partner death (past tense), fatal illness, brief mentions of depressive attitudes, some drinking, little bit of flirting, dad Jake AU, uncle Danny AU
Word count: 4k
Another end to a week and soon it was Saturday. Jake was back on the field with the kids, jogging backwards alongside them as he taught them how to attempt making passes with the balls. It wasn’t exactly going well, but he didn’t expect much from only the second day of practice.
The kids were having fun and that was all that really mattered so he wasn’t hard on them at all. He was having a good time watching their little feet and legs try to maneuver the checkered balls, giggling himself when one of them would trip up and he’d have to quickly catch them before they surly ate some grass.
There was to be no crying on the field under his watch.
A few parents had come to see their kids learn the sport, though most just sat in their folding lawn chairs and clapped from the sidelines. Emma’s mom was here. She’d made it a point to come up to Jake before practice started and invite him over for lunch afterwards, to which he said he’d consider it.
Honestly, he hadn’t had much time to think about Danny since the other day, but he’d suddenly gotten a strange feeling in his gut when walking over to the field this afternoon. He had no idea if Danny would be there today, and he wasn’t sure if he’d mentally prepared himself to deal with any antics today. It was a relief to see he wasn’t there, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be at the house for lunch.
“Can I go play at Emma’s house? Pleeease?” Luna asked in her sweetest, trying to pull on her dad’s heartstrings, voice.
“Michael has been outside grilling all afternoon. We’ve got plenty of food” Emma’s mom sweetened the deal with the promise of barbecue, and after that little cardio workout Jake had to admit he was pretty hungry.
“Oh all right, just for a little while” Jake finally agreed and both kids squealed with excitement.
“So how’s it going with the foundation?” She casually made small talk as they all started their walk back towards the houses.
“It’s been going. We hit a few snags with securing some donations out on the west coast. Thought for a second I was going to have to go out there myself to get it all sorted out, but my team came through in the end”.
“That’s good to hear. It’s great what you guys do for musical education”. She almost always asked Jake about his job when she got the chance to chat with him. Jake didn’t mind, he loved his job, a legacy left behind.
“By the way, I’ve been thinking about putting Emma in some piano lessons” she continued, “you wouldn’t happen to know anyone would you?” Though she didn’t come right out and ask him, the look she gave him and the tone in her voice suggested what she really meant was would he teach her. “I’ve seen that beautiful piano in your house”.
“That was June’s” Jake informed her that the piano she mentioned wasn’t exactly his, but his late wife’s. “I could teach her how to play guitar” he chuckled nervously, fidgeting with the strap of his backpack, “but piano might be a little out of my expertise”.
“Oh, I see” she trailed off, almost sorry she’d unintentionally brought up a possibly sensitive subject.
Jake offered her a warm smile in return, trying to show her he didn’t mind at all. He liked talking about her, and actually he kind of wished people would ask about her more often so he could feel free and happy to reminisce instead of everyone just trying to tiptoe around it.
“I really wish I could’ve met her. I bet she was an amazing woman”.
She was the most amazing woman he’d ever met, Jake thought to himself. They had met at an event for the foundation he now worked for. He was only nineteen at the time, still just a kid in the eyes of the seasoned professionals he was so anxious to be getting a chance to mingle with.
Being a freelance musician, Jake was just trying to book whatever he could with the help of his manager, who happened to be friends with some people also invited to this party. Jake hadn’t expected much of anything to come from that night. Maybe have a few (nonalcoholic) drinks with some like natured musicians, learn some tips of the industry, if he was lucky and smooth talked enough maybe score his next gig. What he never expected was meeting June.
They spent practically the whole night standing at a high top table at the corner of the room together, just getting to know each other. He told her he played the guitar and she modestly revealed that she was a singer who also played a few instruments of her own. She was twenty-one at the time so she was drinking sparkling wine and Jake couldn’t tell if the flush in her cheeks was from him, or the glass in her hand. Either way he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.
At the end of the night he gave her his number, praying she would give him a call. After two long days of beating himself up for not just asking for her number instead, she called him and they set up a lunch date.
It was then he found out she was the only daughter of the owners of the foundation who’s party they’d met at. She had spent most of the past two years traveling around with them going to events like the night before, meeting musicians and trying to fundraise money for musical programs in schools.
She had decided now that she wanted to settle down for a bit, write some pieces and even possibly work on an album. Jake was extremely excited when she invited him to the studio with her, and before he knew it they were collaborating and eventually dating as well.
Two years of hard work and their album was finally hitting the market. The combination of Jake’s crafty acoustic and effortlessly executed electric guitar riffs, with her smooth powering vocals and elegant instrumentals made for popular reviews. They toured together for a while, most of their shows profits giving back to her family’s foundation.
Jake and June never denied the dating rumors. It was blatantly obvious with the palpable chemistry between them both on and off stage, and as soon as touring was over they were eloping up in the mountains of her family home.
It seemed so unreal looking back on the way it all happened. Jake was crying tears of happiness when he found out she was pregnant with Luna, but the tears soon turned sorrowful when all the blood testing along with early pregnancy confirmed June’s worst nightmare, her diagnosis.
The doctors assured them that the pregnancy didn’t put her or the baby at risk, but Jake could tell when she started getting sick because she didn’t sing anymore. She just didn’t have the strength in her lungs to do so.
Thankfully Luna did arrive perfectly fine, and they’d had nearly a full year together before June took a turn for the worst. She was bedridden on their daughter’s first birthday, and Jake couldn’t stand to see the pain it caused her to not be able to be the mother she always wanted to be.
The next thing he knew, she was gone and he was navigating life as a parent alone. He decided making music and playing shows couldn’t be a stable job for a toddler, so he inherited his wife’s shares of the foundation where he started to work full time.
“She would’ve loved you guys, especially Emma and Luna getting so close. She always wanted a big family since she was an only child”. Jake smiled again as he watched the kids chase each other through the yard once they finally reached the house. “Are you an Michael thinking about having anymore?”
She turned quiet herself this time, shrugging her shoulders as she held the door open for him after the kids plowed through to get to playing in the backyard. “We’ll see” she replied, absently like it wasn’t a topic she really preferred to get into right now.
Jake followed her through their home to the French doors that opened up onto their back patio. Emma’s dad was finishing up at the grill so they started setting up the table with napkins, cups and utensils, some chips, everything you’d need for an afternoon barbecue.
“Is there anything I can help with?” Jake asked, feeling awkward about just standing there as they worked. He’d had plenty of meals at their house, and shared his dining room with them as well, so he wasn’t uncomfortable but he still considered himself a guest and offered his assistance.
“Oh I’ve got some potato salad in the fridge, would you mind grabbing that and some ice from the kitchen?”
Without hesitation Jake made his way back inside, easily navigating his way to his destination, stopping dead in his tracks when he rounded the corner and saw the kitchen wasn’t as empty as he’d expected it to be.
“Looking for this?” Danny smirked as he held what looked like the bowl of potato salad he’d been sent for.
“No” Jake blurted out, his mind too preoccupied with trying, and failing, to look away from the man standing in front of him. He was in black jeans again, maybe even the same ones from their first encounter, and another t-shirt. Only this t-shirt instead of having the sleeves cut off had the last two inches chopped away so that the hem hung just above his belted waistband.
All he had to do was shift a bit and Jake was getting a peak at his navel, decorated with a patch of dark hair. There was something else too, something silver just barely hidden underneath the cotton. A belly button piercing? He couldn’t be sure, but he absolutely was not getting any closer to get a better look or letting himself get caught staring.
“Ice” he spoke in another one word sentence, but didn’t move a muscle to retrieve said ice.
“Here, I got it” Danny set the bowl down on the island that separated them and stepped over to the cabinets. He had his back facing Jake now, but as he opened the cabinet and reached onto the top shelf for a metal container for the ice Jake could see how far the shirt rose with the stretch, exposing smooth tanned skin and a pair of back dimples.
Jake continued to watch in silence as Danny filled the bucket up before turning back around. “Want to take that and I’ll take this?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head slightly towards the bowl on the counter.
“Okay” Jake approached the island like a skittish cat. One wrong move from Danny and he’d be scurrying off. Danny only waited patiently for Jake to reach over and slide the bowl across the granite then he wrapped his arm around it and held it close to his body.
“Your hair looks nice by the way” Danny muttered quietly when Jake was closer.
Jake brows furrowed in confusion before he could catch himself. He’d let his hair down from the clip he’d thrown it up in at practice, but all he’d had was his fingers to haphazardly comb through it. He couldn’t imagine that it looked ‘nice’ right now.
“It looks good down is what I mean” Danny elaborated, moving past him to head outside before someone came looking for them.
“There you are! I was sure you didn’t get lost just going to the kitchen” his sister called them over to the table when she spotted them through the door.
She had the kids already rounded up, sitting together at one end with a plate each and barbecue sauce already smeared on their faces. Practice must’ve made them just as hungry as Jake was.
Jake took a seat next to Luna, Michael sat at the end of the table and his wife to his right. That left the seat across from Jake open, and the seat next to him on Michael’s left. Great, either he’d be trying to avoid looking at Danny while he ate, or he’d be sitting right next to him.
He turned to check on Luna making sure she had a napkin and enough water before he planned to get back up and make a plate for himself. The seat next to him was drug across the concrete as Danny pulled it out to take a seat, but then the sound of a plate sliding across the table made Jake look over.
Danny sent him a smile as the plate ended up right in front of Jake, setting his own plate down in front of his chair next then leaving to get drinks.
“Thanks” Jake mumbled when Danny handed him a water as well.
“You know Danny plays the guitar too” his sister commented as she watched their little interaction, stabbing her fork into some of the potato salad.
“Really?” Jake replied, too polite to ignore her conversation. “Is he any good?” What he could do though was talk to her like their subject wasn’t nearly brushing shoulders with him as he picked up his fork.
“He is. At least from what I can remember he hasn’t played in a while”.
“That’s because my Gibson got stolen” Danny interjected.
“I don’t see how that’s anyone’s fault but your own” she scolded him.
Jake was able to get a few bites in as they argued back and forth for a moment when he noticed Michael was being unusually quiet. He chalked it up to letting Danny and his sister have their moment. He himself knew how family bickering could go.
“I’m thinking about getting a new one though. Maybe when I do I could come over and we could jam”.
Jake nearly choked on his water at Danny’s bold suggestion, but he somehow managed to swallow it down and look his way. “Umm, yeah that could be cool”. Shit, why did he agree?
“Cool” Danny flashed another smile and Jake focused on his plate again, already thinking of excuses he could use to get out of that.
“Daddy, I’m done” Luna tugged on Jake’s arm to get his attention after a little while of eating and chatting. “Can we go play in Emma’s room?”
“Ask Emma’s mom if she can be excused from the table” he answered her as he gathered up her mess.
“Of course, you kids run along and play, I’ll be right back” she quickly replied as she got up to grab something from inside. Danny jumped up to help Jake clear the kids plates, stacking them and all the trash together and carrying it to be thrown away, the kids following behind him.
“Have any interesting cases right now?” Jake asked Michael when it was just the two of them left outside.
“Nothing really interesting, just a lot” he replied simply.
“I hear you’ve been having to stay late quite a bit, I’m always happy to help with Emma”. He watched as Michael nodded, though his attention seemed to be focused behind Jake. Looking over his shoulder just barely in view behind the glass doors Danny and his sister seemed to be deep in discussion again.
Like she could sense their eyes on her, she quickly came back out, carrying a wine bottle and two glasses. “A client gave this to us, you have to try it at least once” she insisted as she poured herself and Jake a glass.
They talked for a while longer, one glass turning into two before Jake had to cut himself off, but she went ahead and finished the bottle with her third. At some point Michael had gotten up and went inside. Jake found it odd he wasn’t socializing at all today, but maybe he was just overworked and needed a break. God knows he knew what it was like to need a break.
“Well I better get Luna and head home. We still have homework she didn’t want to do last night”.
“Go ahead, I’m going to clean up a little bit out here. It was good catching up”.
“It’s always a pleasure” he replied, then got up feeling his head rush a little bit with the motion. It’s a good thing they only had a short walk home because that wine was potent, three glasses would’ve definitely gotten him into some trouble.
When he was back inside he could already hear the giggling of the children coming from the living room instead of the hallway with the bedrooms. “Luna? Time to go sweetheart” he called out.
He was right, they were in the living room, and so was Danny who looked up at him from where he sat on the floor in front of a kids play desk. He had about a dozen rainbow butterfly clips fixed in his curls, and his hands were spread across the tiny desk while Emma painted them silver with sparkles.
���Daddy! Can I see your phone?” Luna jumped up from the couch that had hair accessories scattered across its cushions, no doubt the next pieces to be added to Danny’s look.
“What for?” He asked, letting her grab onto his hand and pull him further into the room.
“Danny said we can add him as a friend on TikTok” she answered him, already trying to pry his phone from his front pocket.
“Is that so?” Jake retrieved his phone first, looking over at Danny in question.
“Only if you send me those slime scooping videos. Those are my favorite” he told her to which she jumped up and down giggling.
Jake reluctantly unlocked his phone and opened the app he’d only installed so that he and Luna could watch cute farm animal videos on and such, she loved those. He let Danny tell him his username and added him as a friend. “Alright can we go now?”
“Bye Emma! I’ll see you at school on Monday!” Luna waved to her, then to Danny.
“Careful!” Emma scolded him when he tried to wave back, checking his nails for smudges when he quickly obeyed and put his hand back down.
Later that night Jake laid in bed getting caught up on some reading and waiting for Josh’s call when he got a notification on his phone. He’d almost forgotten about the TikTok add when he saw that Danny followed him back, and shortly after sent him a video. He debated ignoring it, but ended up deciding to check and make sure he wasn’t sending anything weird where Luna could see.
A pleasant little tune came across the speaker when it started with a title to the video on the screen that said ‘rating the scoopability of this week's slimes’. He actually watches this? Jake thought as he let the video play on, an orange ‘slush’ slime, whatever that was, up first. Next was a deep blue one with purple flash and gold stars. Wait, he kind of liked that one, and why was this kind of relaxing? Finally there was a green translucent slime, this one had lots of tiny little charms in it which Jake had to squint his eyes at to see that some of the charms were tiny soccer balls.
Was Danny thinking about him when he sent this video?
Jake closed the video and stared at the white background of the nearly empty inbox before he curiously clicked on the bubble that took him to Danny’s profile. He didn’t have anything posted, but there was a link to his instagram account.
The link took him immediately to the other app, and Jake lied to himself saying he hoped his account was private. It wasn’t.
A grid of pictures of Danny flooded Jake’s screen in the usual instagram manner. Being nosey he scrolled a little bit, finding one interesting enough to click on and enlarge. He looked like he was in a tattoo shop, and he was in a position that showed off his forearm while he pretended to flex- not that he had to try very hard.
What looked like brand new ink by the irritation of his skin banded around his arm in bold black lines. How had he missed this when they met? He could remember what Danny was wearing, but clearly he’d been trying to avoid looking at him too much if he’d not seen the tattoo.
He stared at the picture for a bit longer, studying the marking and the unfamiliar symbol they made when he was interrupted by his awaited phone call.
“Hey” he answered, trying to sound normal- like he wasn’t just creeping on someone's social media.
“What were you doing?” Josh asked, too intuitive to not notice he’d caught Jake off guard.
“Nothing” Jake replied, his voice turning up a bit at the end.
“What were you watching porn or something?”
“What? No! I absolutely was not” Jake groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose at his brother's brazen questioning.
“I wouldn’t judge you if you were. How else are you supposed to release some stress without getting a little… well, release?”
“Please stop talking. The only thing stressing me out right now is you”.
“How was practice today?” Josh asked instead, sounding a little too eager to get the updates about ‘practice’.
“Really good” Jake replied, only adding to Josh’s delusion of what really good meant.
“So you got to see a certain someone again?”
Of course, this conversation was actually about that.
“Not at practice. We had lunch at Emma’s house”.
“Wait…” Josh stopped him in confusion. “So the person who hit on you is?”
Jake debated for a moment about telling Josh about Danny. Besides he was just some random guy he had to put up with right now since his family was close with Emma’s, right? He figured Danny’s living situation with his sister wasn’t permanent, so eventually he’d leave and everything would go back to normal, right?
“Jake, come on if you don’t tell me I’m just going to imagine what I want to then” Josh read his mind.
Knowing leaving it up to Josh’s imagination was not the best course of action- that could get out of hand fast, Jake gave in. “His name is Danny. He’s Emma’s uncle”.
The other end was silent for a moment as his brother took in this information. Jake knew that Josh didn’t care that this crush was someone of the same sex, having been with his boyfriend for nearly a decade now. “This is… interesting”. Jake could hear Josh’s grin, knowing he was probably planning out how he could meet Danny as soon as possible.
“Don’t be weird about it. It’s nothing”.
“Yeah, just a crush” Josh giggled mischievously. “Jake has a crush”.
“Shut up I don’t”.
“Oh, wait till Sam gets a hold of this”. Jake knew Josh wouldn’t actually tell him if he didn’t want him to, but it was also fun to tease him with it.
“I’m hanging up now”.
With a chuckle still in his tone Josh wished him a good night. When the call ended Danny’s instagram pulled back up and Jake gave it one last scroll through before he sighed and closed all his tabs before plugging his phone back in and saving his place in his book. Setting them both on his night stand he turned out his light and settled into bed, one question left on his mind.
Did he have a crush?
Before today he would’ve said no, absolutely not, but he had to admit seeing Danny playing with the kids had done something to him.
A crush might’ve been a strong word at this point, but if he saw Danny again he didn’t think he’d mind it so much anymore.
Coming to grips with that Jake was able to easily fall asleep, knowing that he probably would be seeing him again.
Tags: @lyndz2names @gracev0609 @lipstickitty @sanguinebats
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Not to be negative or a hater, but I personally don't find some of emilia's seemingly "adorkble idiotic airhead" moments and related speeches "cute" or "funny" rather...cringe and baffling. it seems like tappei simply doesn't understand the difference between a naive person and someone with an extremely low IQ, maybe tappei tried to create some comedy with that way to show emilia's dorky charm but honestly it's SUCKS unfortunately that big troll seems to be very stubborn to portray emilia that way over and over and over again without finding it kinda problematic at all, and honestly it's starting to piss me off about him. I know that emilia actually has a lot of smart moments in the story, but for some reason I just can't get into characters like her despite her kindness and thoughtfulness as well as other wonderful qualities,sorry.
hi anon!! thanks for the ask, this is something that i think a lot, actually. the thing with rezero is that it has a few glaring major flaws and then all the smaller flaws stem from those things. and by major, it is major. its genuinely problematic. i dont use that word lightly. and emilia is one of those characters that suffers from it the most, especially when shes rezeros deuteragonist. but you wouldnt know that from the way tappei treats her sometimes.
also uh quick disclaimer i hope no one kills me for my opinions in this ask haah i promise ill explain.
i will preface this off by saying - yeah, emilias one of my favorite characters in all of rezero actually. shes one of my favorite characters of all time in general too.
tappei does do some things right with her - her base character is lovely, her backstory is complex and explains so much of the foundation of her character, her role in the story is fascinating, her arc 4 development is amazingly written imo, her kindness despite all the pain shes been through due to factors out of her control is very admirable... to me personally, shes someone i can relate to and a character that i love a lot. i see her and i understand why subaru wants to help and protect her so bad because she truly is a sweet person trying her best but she is continually fucked over. i want her to succeed!! i want her to struggle but eventually prove everyone whos ever been against her wrong!! i want her to find true happiness and grow and change as a person!!
but at the same time shes not just fucked over in universe. shes fucked over by the way tappei writes her, because he keeps dropping the ball when it comes to these things. so i really understand anon a lot for not being able to get into emilia, and i also really understand anon because i too am getting a little pissed off at tappeis writing sometimes hah. so in regards to not being able to get into emilia for some reason—yeah, i think theres a lot of reasons for this due to how tappei writes rezero.
for example. emilias “dorkiness” is sometimes good. and then sometimes its bad because tappei wants to keep making her “stupid” and “childish” in very insulting ways. having a low iq and being childish isnt bad. the way tappei treats it in his story is.
rezero in general is kind of weird in its treatment of women in that it has all these varied female characters with unique backstories, personalities, motivations, etc etc. there will almost always be a great foundation for all these characters, but tappei will continually do things to ruin it a bit down the line and waste potential. or there will be flaws from conception that get worse over time. its a huge mixed bag.
and its also really obvious again in media like this because if youre paying attention, its very easy to notice that male characters will always get more attention and more consistently higher quality writing compared to the female characters.
(warning ahead for more discussion of rezero's misogyny and tendency to sexualize children, by the way)
tappei's poor writing with women also kind of applies to children. because treatment of children and women in rezero are very intricately linked. im gonna explain this in a hopefully handy and useful and understandable list that goes through a lot of tappeis usual tropes regarding children and women in rezero:
tappei continually writing excerpts that go way too in depth about womens and young girls breasts and bodies in general in very objectifying ways. im gonna be entirely honest a good number of sentences in rezero belong on r/menwritingwomen. why do we need to keep hearing about their body parts like this? ESPECIALLY when it comes to the children. its frankly disgusting.
women/girls who are in love / involved with an older man in some capacity, likely highly dependent on him in some way, sometimes this will become their main motivation (examples of this include emilia (YEAH. EMILIA.), rem, petra, ram, frederica, liliana, yorna.............). like yeah i know guys in rezero arent exempt from (co)dependency or some form of obsession, but kind of telling that theyre still extremely fleshed out characters outside of it, right? (key examples include subaru, otto, and roswaal.)
^^ adding onto this. age gap romances. tappei did that thing where he shoehorned emilia being "mentally 14" or whatever, and also even if roswaal wasnt centuries old he still practically raised ram since she was a child (she literally helps dress him in the anime?? like shes seen taking his underwear to him???). clind also is an adult who knew frederica as a child and clind is. something else. also in a recent arc 8 madeline moment where she and balleroy have a romance-coded scene together and its like? even if shes not a child, SHE LOOKS LIKE ONE. BALLEROY IS A GROWN ASS MAN.
creepy men who are into kids but tappei justifies it in universe because theyre not actually into kids, but everything about their behavior would be creepy and wrong either way (clind and kiritaka come to mind)
female characters who are more submissive and soft hearted so clearly this means they need to be protected all the time and they cant make decisions on their own. lets talk over them a whole bunch and control them. and yeah this is a purposeful writing choice that leads to character development and narratively calling out this behavior (we see this with arc 3 emisuba conflict) but then tappei keeps doing it after the fact anyway without batting an eye. this is so so painfully clear with emilia especially. her whole character is about trying to break out of that mold but then tappei (and subaru, due to the nature of rbd + his own goals, and also puck, who hasnt been completely called out for being a shit dad yet) keeps shoving her back into it
^^ infantilizing female characters in general........ like realistically speaking emilias lack of sex education is extremely dangerous. its not funny. lack of sex ed in real life often leads to serious consequences. she nearly gets sold into slavery in frozen bonds, and iirc there are implications of what kind of slavery it is. and also her being mentally 14 makes no sense, is highly insulting, and its completely unnecessary. if tappei wants to hold off on emisuba romantic development, he already has the explanation of theyre too busy for that right now and also not mentally ready for it yet, but theyre still extremely close with each other.
^^ adding onto this there are several female characters in rezero that are airheaded. subarus mom, naoko. emilia. medium. shaula is another big example of this also. shes sexually harassed (at. at best iirc.) Multiple Times and it feels a little too brushed aside. on top of her repeatedly being sexualized with her design and her behavior, apparently, on top of being airheaded. there is a consistent pattern of infantilizing and sexualizing some of these characters and its Frustrating. having multiple characters with similar personalities isnt bad at all of course, but im putting this on the list because as anon said, tappei is problematic with this when it comes to female characters. yeah, subarus mom is well written. but emilia? shaula? its so painfully clear to see. he cant write a naive character without being a little gross about it.
sexualizing children in general. schult apparently helps priscilla get dressed iirc and also is. iirc. into priscilla's feet????? ....... and then you have typhon, whos skirt is so disturbingly see through that the anime fixed her design, and louis, who makes a few sexual comments in arc 6. also excerpts talking about petras chest. excerpts talking about anastasias body in a manner that feels both infantilizing and sexualized once again... weird comments in arc 8 regarding child subaru iirc, etc...
female characters who get overshadowed by others even when theyre supposed to be the focus. anastasia gets replaced by echidna for almost if not all of the entirety of arc 6. vollachia saga has been so hectic that priscilla hasnt really gotten much if at all major development. emilia for the entirety of rezero. crusch for the entirety of rezero AND her own centric ex novel. crusch will be in pain and severely injured and the narrative will focus more on how this affects anyone but her. and again, i know its a possibility that these characters may develop in the future. but stuff like ana getting replaced by her scarf for all of arc 6 + emilias entire existence as a character is sad imo T^T let them shine!! please!! i also know these characters also have side stories, especially anastasia and priscilla have great ones, and a lot of ss are required reading now but there needs to be more of them in main story content. im very glad that anastasias appeared again for arc 8.
rem and louis/spica getting "reset" in their development while other female characters are stagnant. they didnt actually grow and change, tappei just cheated by gluttonying rem and resetting louis's mind to a toddler. they went from Point A to Point B in an instant, there wasnt any actual development there. this might change in the future, but imo reading about rem and louis in arc 7-8 can genuinely be a bit of a slog because they didnt actual develop. we were cheated out of that. and of course tappei has to juggle multiple characters and characters will take turns having development, naturally, which such a big cast, but characters like emilia fall by a wayside far too often. she hasnt had major development since arc 4 even though she is. again. the deuteragonist. that was four arcs ago. certain female characters, i feel, have to deal with the cons of this character arc system more often.
male characters whos behavior isnt called out enough sometimes. roswaal’s relationship with ram. kiritaka. clind. puck still needs to be called out more in canon i think wjdnd. also al making comments about priscillas breasts or iirc creepy comments about schult being a shota and other things of that vein. honestly priscilla doesnt behead that guy Enough.
male counterparts with the same exact themes as their female characters will always have higher quality writing.
(of course theres exceptions to all of these—female characters like echidna are fascinating and well-written, theres several other female characters that are great too, etc, but theyre exceptions. theyre not the norm.)
ill also elaborate on that last point more here regarding male counterparts.
emilia and rem are big examples of this. we have very handy male counterparts for certain important aspects of emilia and rem's characters that are far better written because theyre guys and tappei cant write women at a consistent quality. of course emilia and rem both parallel subaru, but im gonna get more into what i think is their stronger Foils in certain aspects—
reinhard and otto.
im a fan of reinhard, otto, emilia, and rem. but the thing is, reinhard and otto have some very similar traits to emilia and rem respectively.
reinhard is guilt ridden, blamed for things out of his control, has some learned helplessness, deals with being controlled by others and trying not to crumble under the weight of the world’s expectations, has Intense Family Trauma also triggered by pandora (remember what happens to petelgeuse? remember the fortuna=sirius theory? remember elior forest?), and a deep seated trauma regarding Hurting Others. and also a generally soft demeanor and deep seated loneliness. its no coincidence that reinhard and emilia in pride if also parallel each other—emilia the half devil turned “hero”, and reinhard, the hero who falls from grace.
otto has less similarities with rem than reinhard does with emilia but to keep this short. otto and rems major motivations are being devoted to subaru. but the thing with reinhard and otto is that they dont have the pitfalls that emilia and rems characters do—the infantilizing and other problematic details, poorly written/choppy development, etc. with reinhard and otto it feels more consistent, like their time on screen is well-used and respectful to who they are as characters and it satisfies us enough to take a break from them until tappei brings them back into the spotlight again.
i cant say the same for emilia and rem.
tappei cant even write emilias naivete and stunted emotional growth (which is due to trauma and pucks poor parenting) without infantilizing her, while tappei effortlessly writes reinhard being emotionally stunted due to trauma, poor parenting, and his DPs. you dont see reinhard with cringeworthy dialogue T^T
its just kind of insulting how there is so much you could explore with characters like emilia lacking agency because others keep taking it away. her airheadedness, her naivete—shes been shaped by her environment and trauma too, those character traits stem from these things as well. how do you lead a camp and become king and grow as a person when youre in the shadow of a witch who nearly destroyed the world? when thats what people often see you as? how do you move forward when your family and people have been ruined by things you couldnt control? when your father figure has failed you in all sorts of ways? when even your closest friends talk over you and try to dictate you? when you and your loved ones keep getting in danger because of all these horrible people that keep pinning the blame on you? thats awful. i cant even blame emilia for being a little empty in the head after all that. i cant even blame her in general.
and then theres the horror of subarus rbd because emilia is his main motivation. like thatd be a nightmare come true for anyone—while subaru is good intentioned, he is yet another person stealing emilias agency. yeah, most of it in his case is understandable because emilia keeps being targeted from factors outside of her control, but its still awful. emilia quite literally has had very little will of her own for all of rezero but i have my doubts on whether tappei will actually explore it or not because he cant even write emilia dialogue right sometimes!!
its baffling to me. arc 3-4 were all about how emilia is her own person and she needs to leave the nest and grow but then tappei backpedals on it by the time we get to arc 8. again, it feels a bit insulting T^T which is why all the “dorky” emilia dialogue stings even more. its salt in the wound. i am getting a little annoyed after four arcs of seeing that pop up time and time again in between all the other well-written stuff, yeah. including other emilia moments because i did enjoy her more active moments in arcs 5+!!
tappei just needs to stop treating emilia like she cant do anything by herself T^T the core problem with his treatment of her is that he usually goes shes naive so basically shes a kind of useless child and so she cant understand anything or have any choices of her own without being scrutinized, peer reviewed, and micromanaged by all the men around her 👍
theres also this excerpt that i think a lot thats from the tsuchigumo side story (aka the three idiots set out!: earth spider episode side story) where one of rezero's female characters, a girl named marone lisbon, says -
marone also appears for like two seconds in side stories that not everyones gonna read, so she didnt have enough time to get "ruined". so to speak.
but yeah. this dialogue reminds me of what couldve been. it has all these themes and all these feelings that apply to SO MANY female characters in rezero, especially emilia. it proves even further that tappei is more than capable of writing good female characters. and we already know that tappei is more than capable of writing well-written characters.
but ultimately i just dont trust his writing sometimes because he can never consistently keep the quality up with writing characters because either theres too much going on so things fall by the wayside sometimes, or theres sexism, or tappeis inability to be normal about kids sneaks in again!!!
however i love rezero a lot. its an important piece of media to me, and i dont intend to leave this fandom for a While atm. but i think its important to recognize when media gets things Wrong, and rezero has a good chunk of flaws. and rezeros english fandom being the way it is does make me hesitate to bring up rezeros flaws in the sense of. yeah its rooted in sexism. and weirdness about kids.
but ultimately im very very cautiously hopeful to see what happens to emilia from here. hopefully she does have more development soon? but all in all—yeah anon on this one is speaking facts and i agree a lot.
also sorry if i got a bit intense with this response akdndnd i just feel very passionately about this. tappei stop being weird about women and kids challenge please T^T anyway im gonna finish off this ask with a meme i made.
yeah so thats why emilias writing is very iffy and also why a bunch of other female character writing in rezero is a bit iffy also 👍
#rezero#emilia#ask#this isnt even getting into how tappeis treatment of these characters + english anime fandoms = the worst mix youve ever seen in your life#a fandom usually reflects its media and the ideas its media has often. is the thing.#or at least thats my running theory on the state of things wkdndn bc rezero will have such thought provoking themes but then the sexualized#anime merch kind of spits on it. and also tappei too spits on it.#but yeah sorry this response is so long anon wkfnd but i hope this makes sense!!#you brought up such good points akdnd and i really have been thinking of it for a while now. im tired of tappei doing this stuff 😔#arc 5+ spoilers
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vote in my poll boy but also im gonna skew my own results by giving my opinion. here’s my personal ranking of rose writers
sean mckeever: FRESH HELL <3 literally THE rose book. also tt03 #57 slayed. he ALMOST gets knocked down on the list because a) the fucking shitshow that was terror titans and b) he backtracked on like 3 different character arcs as soon as he started writing tt and it pisses me off. but he redeemed himself with fresh hell
geoff johns: i hate johns so much. but he solidified sooo much about rose as a character that he has pretty much the definitive rose. what he did completely defined rose's relationship with her father and her attitude towards the titans/being a hero in general. whether they realize it or not, every rose writer after johns is writing his version of her. as much as i hate him he is one of the best rose writers and i will stand by that
christopher priest: i have not made it a secret that i love ds16. there are some aspects of his characterization that i dont agree with but for the most part he killed it tbh. hating her dad but still coming back to him, loving her brother but still keeping him at arms length, HOSUN!!! HER HMONG FAMILY!!!!!!! ily priest
ed brisson: SLAY. the only reason he's not higher is because i dont like the fact in general that she chose to be on stormwatch (she would not do that), and he used baby rose in ktr and didnt even mention lili (and DID mention that foster family. im still mad). other than that!!! everything about her struggle to be a good person in batb was soooo good, and so much about ktr was so good for her <3 thank u mr brisson
marv wolfman: i feel a little bad not ranking him higher given that. he created rose. but she doesnt really do much in the issues he writes. which is fair given that she was a new character that was just made to hang around on the sidelines at the time, so theres not a lot to judge in his writing. but he definitely laid the foundation that johns expanded on, and he was the one that made her so uh thnx marv
jt krul: i wish he had gotten more time :( i wish he had gotten to do whatever he was planning with lili, i wish we could've gotten to see more of his rose. his rose was def a different take than before given that she was more... mellowed out ig? it was a lot more lighthearted, just her hanging out with the team, being an older sister to damian (<3), and looking for her mom. hes not my fav just because i like it when shes a crazy bitch instead of a normal girl, but i completely understand why people like his rose. not to mention tt03 #77-78 slays so unbelievably hard
jay faerber: NANNY ROSE <33333 i love love love rose in titans 99 <3 this version of rose is DRASTICALLY different than any other rose, which is the reason hes in the bottom half, but i like it in the sense that its nice to know that she was just hanging out in between the two worst things to ever happen to her (her mom dying & slade drugging her). rose with roy and lian lives rent free in my head every single day of my life i love it so much, also that issue with rose & toni was so fun. titans 99 rose you will always be famous
adam beechen: he is going to hell for what he did to cass but for rose? he was fine. he helped with that one really good wilson family arc (tt03 #43-46), and wrote the only pre-52 rose & jason interaction (#47) so he gets points for that. and batgirl 2008 was pretty good for rose. but unfortunately he just didnt make enough of an impact on me to be ranked any higher
matthew rosenberg: unfortunately im mentally ill so i have a detailed explanation of what i think of rosenberg's rose but the short version is: i like him, he writes a good rose. its fun, shes well-written for the most part, but there are some :/ parts about it to me. i think if he continues writing her he'd be ranked higher but for now hes sitting pretty near the bottom of the list
devin grayson: i used to really like devin grayson's rose but. i have since changed my mind. it doesnt feel like rose. this is NOT the rose that stabbed her eye out because she thought slade was disappointed in her! shes too Quirky Girl here even though this is theoretically during the period where shes being drugged (honestly. i dont think grayson actually knew about the super soldier serum. and if she did it does not show) and we've seen rose in this era in tt03 and bg00, and this arc does not read as the same character at all. it was a good arc for her, and she had a lot of good moments here! but the characterization overall wasnt great
joshua williamson: i won't go on a whole tangent about the way williamson writes but. he has no sense of character voice, his characters all feel like blank slates to get the plot across, there are no character decisions being made besides what's needed for the plot. theres not a lot that i can put my finger on and say that its bad, but there are so few choices being made that its hard to say anything about his rose. to put a completely different character in rose's place in robin 2021, all you'd have to do is switch a few words around. williamson uses a vague idea of who a character is to guide what he wants them to do, and all his characters come out shallow. his rose wasnt BAD but it wasnt good at all
scott lobdell: every day i blow on a dandelion and wish for scott lobdell to kill himself
#re: williamson. for some reason the 'he cant write character voice' rule does not apply to ollie#like everyone else in ga23 is very eh. but hes nailed ollie's voice#the plot sucks. the pacing sucks. the decisions usually suck. but he can write ollie in a way that he cant write anyone else#trying so hard not to go on an entire rant about how williamson writes characters. i swear im trying to stay on topic#rose wilson
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hello. i'm not sure how to phrase this properly but do you have any advice on not being afraid of being social with real humans? i admit i am a bit paranoid. i do not want to share anything about myself with anyone in real life, i do not want to use any social media that can be easily traced back to my real identity, i am afraid of meeting up with and talking to people i can meet locally etc. i know that human connection requires vulnerability and being "real", but i've seen far too many examples of people being bullied for being themselves and from my experiences relationships don't last that long, i can't keep friends, so it's almost not worth it to open up that much because it can be used against you later once you stop talking etc etc etc., at least that's what i think. i don't know how to perceive people as kind and stop being afraid. it's hard. sorry if this question is not phrased well.
hi anonymous; i:m terrible to ask for this!
i have basically no real-life relationships and my whole life has basically been a tomb built upon an inability to change, connect, and grow; spiritually i:m like what happens if the bacteria inside an empty house is allowed to stagnate and flow in-to the floorboards till it becomes like a fat pungent jelly saturating the baseboards, principal post, foundation; nasty and tepid and like a black mold :-))!
any-ways: what helped me get-over my social anxiety, slightly, was just gradual exposure at my own behest: forcing myself to go-out and get something nice for myself weekly/daily; when i had a little more money: this would be stopping out for coffee; or: just going to a thrift-store and looking at books.
for internet stuff and bullying: being open and facing consequence for your own existence is just part-and-parcel of being a person; even: if you are "making a career out of yourself" (whether it be an artist, or just some prolific poster (i:d consider this a career, absolutely, because when i was "way emotionally worse" i:d more-or-less literally get financially incentivized for being actively suicidal and mentally ill--blood sacrifice)) you sort-of implicitly are surrendering a barrier between yourself and other, cause ultimately it:s All About Connection & people don:t connect to barriers super well; incidentally, i think i had a worse time with "bullying" when i had more to be ashamed about myself, and had more internal insecurities -- but i also cared more about my identity as an artist; i:ve Confronted(!) the parts i:ve been too ashamed to confront and made peace with them, and now am mostly content with just housekeeping.
But: i:m still terrifically lonely. purpose and identity helps there; the only things that have ever abated the loneliness for me is being completely ensorcelled with /something/ (like a writing project, drawing, fleshing out an inner world, feeling like i am furthering my goal to the Communication/bacteria) -- and those only come as impulses for me; without: every-day is just a lonely dead-quiet stretch between meals that:s filled up with finding excuses to keep myself busy.
~but: i think that:s also "better;" i keep myself to a routine and give myself responsibilities that i don:t let myself shirk (my praying, my cleaning, my exercising, forcing myself to go to church once a week, my cooking, my grocery shopping); it:s like what moto realizes at the end of boogiepop phantom episode 1,
unfortunately we have to reconcile ourselves by ourselves, and likely: that is a life-time struggle that none of us get to shirk;
if you:d like a recommendation, anonymous, i:d like you to watch "boogiepop and others" (not "boogiepop phantom") episode 6; it:s an episode about that struggle, suema talks about it; if i:m feeling super-duper down i:ll listen to that conversation @ the end of episode 6 between suema and aya, about the struggle with the imaginator, and whether-or-not boogiepop is real.
anyways, i don:t think i gave you great advice here anonymous; even: i doubt any of this will lift your spirits >:-)) but @ minimum: try to be kind to yourself, including patience with yourself, and also responsibility to yourself; often it seems like people are awaiting another to come and pluck the dirt out of us: but that dirt is us, and all another can do is add more slurry to us.
take care chief.
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º ✧ 。updates to mj's insomniac canon !
PLEASE ONLY READ IF YOU'VE FINISHED SM2 OR ARE OK WITH SPOILERS (and don't click on my blog either, bc my banner image is a spoiler too)
º ✧ 。yes, it's true - everyone's favorite journalist told jameson to, and i quote "KISS MY ASS" and quit her job at the bugle. no paycheck is worth writing things she doesn't believe in to appease a man she DESPISES. she is now the host of a new podcast called the new normal and occasionally helps peter with administrative work for the emily may foundation
º ✧ 。unless otherwise specified ? mj lives in the house in queens with peter. once she got her security deposit back and they sold all her apartment furniture, they used the funds to do a few cosmetic changes - nothing TOO crazy, since they want the house to still feel like itself. but a fresh coat of paint (that they did themselves with a liiiiiittle help from pete's spiderbots), money to repair the broken front window, and a new big bed for the primary bedroom went a LONG way to making it feel like home
º ✧ 。mj was always a BADASS, but now it's official - hell yeah she was trained by silver sable while in symkaria, learning not only the language but how to FIGHT (aka drop mfers in close combat with an upgraded stun gun) and ride a motorcycle. though she doesn't plan on entering any amateur boxing matches, both she and peter feel a LOT better about her having the proper tools to defend herself if anything else should happen
º ✧ 。mj visits harry at LEAST once a week, sometimes more if she can swing it. she updates him on how life is going, plays new episodes of her podcast before they release to 'get his opinion', reads him books - anything just to keep TALKING to him, to not give up on the hope that one day he'll open his eyes and answer her
º ✧ 。of COURSE she has nightmares about the symbiote - feeling like she's still being chased through the tunnel in the dark, feeling those tendrils wrap around her ankle and drag her across the floor, waking in a cold sweat CONVINCED she got consumed by it once more and screaming to be released. who wouldn't? unfortunately seeing a professional therapist isn't exactly in the FREELANCE budget she and pete are on these days, but they do have each other. they're both open and honest about their STRUGGLES and it makes the whole thing easier.
º ✧ 。speaking of NIGHTMARES - peter literally dying in her arms? yeah, it's up there vying for top spot on the REPLAYS list. sometimes she can still hear the speech he gave her, how he tried to apologize and say his goodbyes, and it makes her physically ILL. if you thought she was defensive of him before? needy before? LOL MEET NEW AND TRAUMATIZED MJ she quite literally never lets go of him if she can help it
º ✧ 。pete might've stepped back from suiting up, but he and mj are still VERY MUCH on team spidey - right now it's mostly in a support role, having miles and ganke (and hailey and rio sometimes) over to the house as often as they can. occassionally they talk shop, trading insights the couple has from their almost DECADE of experience with pete wearing the suit solo, but honestly? mostly it's just to talk about life - how high school/college is going, always feeding the BROKE students like they wish someone would've done for them. taking care of pete's little brother like FAMILY.
º ✧ 。when coney island reopened? pete and mj waited HOURS in line to make sure they were two of the first people to ride the speed demon - it's STILL her favorite ride, after all. and YES this is fucking important information to know get away from me
#some of these are story beats and some are HCs i already have bc BRAIN ROT#º ✧ 。sm2#º ✧ 。not the girl i was or used to be insomniac verse
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James David Forbes Scottish physicist and glaciologist was born April 20th 1809.
James was a sickly child ever since birth, and his early years were marked by several tragedies which affected his world view. His mother died in 1810, his older brother William in 1826, and his father in 1827. Consequently he was a solitary individual who made no friends until well into adulthood.
One of the sources I have read says he grew up, conservative, superior, and aloof. After the tragedies in his early life I find it amazing he went on to still be talked about 200 years later.
James David Forbes entered the University of Edinburgh at aged 16 initially studying law but abandoned his legal interests in 1830 and embraced a life of science. There he won academic prizes and began writing articles on meteorology. The articles got him into the Royal Society of London,.At only 24 he became a professor at Edinburgh., the great James Clark Maxwell was one of his students.
Until his health gave out, Forbes never stopped. His character was simply relentless, as irresistible as the glaciers he devoted his life to studying. I am in awe of the amount that he achieved, from groundbreaking research on the polarisation of thermal radiation to the invention of the seismometer, from the first accurate maps of the Alps to the foundations of modern glaciology. Until Forbes came on the scene, glaciers were shrouded with ignorance and folklore, poorly understood and shoddily studied. A keen mountaineer capable of thirty miles a day for a week across the roughest terrain. He did all this before the invention of modern mountaineering equipment, safety techniques, or even maps.
In 1843 he suffered an attack of gastric fever that nearly killed him. He struggled against chronic illness for the rest of his life and would never again regain his former strength. In 1846 he returned to the Alps but was too weak to climb, and his doctors prescribed complete rest for his annual six month vacation. Needless to say, his active personality rebelled against the sentence of peace and quiet, and in 1847 and 1848 he conducted a geological campaign in the Western Highlands.
1848 saw Forbes explore the north face of Ben Nevis. He was probably the first man to turn a scientific eye to the mountains of Lochaber and Glencoe. When the Alpine Club was founded in 1857, Forbes was the first honorary member. He maintained a keen interest in the Alps but never again climbed: “My heart remains where my body can never be. My yearnings towards the home of my youth and towards the Swiss Alps are much on a par: both homesickness.”
James David Forbes died in 1868. I’ve shied away from his scientific work which made Forbes famous to show that some of these great inventors that Scotland spawned were more than scientists but led a life away from their labs and studies.
Forbes is buried in Dean Cemetery in Edinburgh. The grave is marked by a simple but large grey granite Celtic cross and lies on the south side of the main path just west of the roundel.
There’s more about Forbes here http://scihi.org/james-david-forbes-seismology/
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Great Books About Gender Identity
Seeing some posts about how new-adult romance novels popularized by BookTok don't show genuine queer experience and largely tokenize queer characters. And look, the prose of these books is ass too. One of my reading interests is how themes of gender/masculinity/femininity interact with other elements in a novel, and with the culture from which the novel was written. I've read a lot of great books on the topic!
As a disclaimer, most of these books don't have explicit queer representation. I read a lot of old books where that wasn't a thing you could openly write about, but you could write about cultural perceptions of masculinity/femininity (a lotta people still didn't like this, but like, you usually weren't stoned for it), which is where modern queer theory and identity comes from! So if you want to feel understood by a novel, here are my book recs on gender, in no particular order:
The Earthsea series by Ursula K. Le Guin: a series of children's fantasy novels that build the foundation for modern children's and YA fantasy (Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, some Neil Gaiman, Brandon Sanderson, etc.). Men and women's roles in society and relations with magic are a major theme in the series, and while no character is queer (though there's a reference late in the series about witches living together), characters are always bound or freed by the gender they express. Also, all the characters are black, which was unheard of at the time of the first book's publication (1968) and is frankly still unheard of today. And it's just a fun read!
The work of Virginia Woolf: My favorite author and one of the largest players in what we today call gender studies. Highly recommend Orlando, where the titular character changes inexplicably from a man to a woman halfway through the novel (it's tempting to call them "the first trans character," but the label feels disingenuous. Transsexuality as we know it didn't exist then, and Orlando didn't choose or want to switch genders. It just happened to them); A Room of One's Own, Woolf's essay on life as a woman author; and The Waves, a book less about gender identity and more about wholistic identity.
The work of Kate Chopin: Chopin is a huge player in starting the feminist literary movement of the 20th century, influencing the work of many authors on this list. If you can stomach Victorian prose, Chopin is for you!
The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath: Plath's novel is written from an intimately feminine perspective and wrestles with questions of mental illness from such a perspective. A must-read.
The work of Oscar Wilde: Thrown in jail for a bit for likely being at least a little gay, Wilde's writing frequently riffs on and critiques gendered social customs. Highly recommend The Importance of Being Earnest, Lady Windermere's Fan, and definitely other stuff of his I haven't read yet.
The work of Madeline Miller: I think Circe is the only "BookTok book" I've read that I thought was good, and boy is it fantastic. Its ideas of gender feel a bit cliche or elementary at times (Circe sometimes reads like an "empowered girlboss" stereotype), but how it plays with this identity at the same time it plays with Circe's identity in her family and pantheon make this book special. And Miller really is a delightful prose stylist. Galatea is also pretty good, and I haven't read Song of Achilles yet.
The Hours by Michael Cunningham: based on Woolf's Mrs. Dalloway, Cunningham reprises Woolf's themes for a book set in the 90s! Great read, and another master of the craft.
The poetry of Sappho: The popular conception of Sappho is that she's this girlboss prodigal lesbian in a patriarchal society, which isn't true. There's definitely some truth there, but it's much more nuanced, and certainly Sappho couldn't conceive of the labels we put on her today and those labels' connotations. In any case, her poetry is some of the first, if not the first, love poetry from a feminine perspective.
Any piece of literature about slavery/colonialism written by a woman: This is a broad category, but the intersection of femininity and race is a broad topic which many writers fall into. You really can't go wrong here. My recs are Toni Morrison, Jean Rhys, Zora Neale Hurston, Oroonoko by Aphra Bein, and Jean Toomer. I still need to read Gwendolyn Brooks, Octavia Butler, and Alice Walker.
The work of Shakespeare: You can't go wrong here. Obviously not explicitly queer, but many of his plays deal with cultural gender perceptions and, of course, crossdressing! Twelfth Night is probably his strongest play on this front, but The Winter's Tale and Measure for Measure are both great here, and most of his plays have at least a little commentary on the gender front.
Leave other recs in the comments/rts! :)
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fanfic writer challenge!
instructions:
list & explain the three lines/moments from canon that are most fundamental to how you write your fave character
challenge 3 more fic writers to do the same!
ok i did this for carry on but im doing a separate one for aftg <3 because its fun
it is surprising to no one, but my fave character to write is andrew :) and i gotta put this puppy under a read more because i wrote way too much. i have [clenches fist] SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT ANDREW MINYARD !!!
but first, ill tag: @sillyunicorn @starwarned @takitalks @rainbow-0bsidian @pipedream-darling @otherworldsivelivedin @mrskrementz @fortheloveofexy @seasy33 @jostenminyard
(doing more than three to get the ball rolling lol)
Andrew's smile vanished when the elevator started its slow crawl down. Neil returned his stare, every muscle tensed for a fight. At the fifth floor, Andrew pushed away from the back railing and started for Neil. He reached for Neil's keys, but Neil moved the ring out of reach. Andrew tried again, and Neil had to step back to dodge his grab. He backed right into the metal doors and realized a moment too late Andrew didn't care about his keys at all. He buried the ring in his pocket, feeling pinned in. How stupid, that someone so short could have such a presence. -- (The Foxhole Court, Chapter 2)
ok, a long one to start, but important ! one of the reasons i love writing andrew is because of the way hes fucking nuts. and as someone who is also nuts, this is pleasing to me. and let me make this point without using silly euphemisms: mania is a state in which a person is heightened, but they are still fundamentally themselves. their thoughts are not limited by silly things like filters or predicting consequences. it is impulse and pleasure-chasing. so! when i look at andrew, who is supposedly on some whacked out fake drug that induces mania, i think about how his actions that could be brushed off as "he's just high" actually reflect an andrew without inhibitions. this is especially helpful when looking at andrew in TKM, when he becomes incredibly difficult to read.
this scene is the reverse, though, and that's why it's important to me. andrew is not on his medicine here, but he's not Mr. Repressed either. this is an in-between, where he's choosing to let some of himself shine through (mostly with the intention of freaking out neil, lol). and it's great, because andrew shows us a few big things:
he reads & understands people SO well, even if he rarely caters to their needs. the fact that he goes for neil's keys on day 1 to draw a reaction is like... yep. you got him lol.
he is willing to take drastic measures in the name of.... well, at this point in the story we're not sure, but soon we'll see that its to protect his people
he's crazy???? lol. i just think andrew's dialogue in tfc/trk in his brief unmedicated moments (and even his manic ones!) are so indicative of how andrew thinks. he's so fucking weird. in this scene, he follows his cornering act with "How nice to meet you, Neil," Andrew drawled. that's so weird!! he's weird. his brain is silly and clever and quick. This bit and others like it are the foundation on which ive built my version of his POV.
now, speaking of andrew's brain --
Andrew stared stone-faced back at him. Neil would have assumed it a silent rejection of Neil's veiled accusations if Andrew's hand hadn't frozen midair between them. -- (The King's Men, Chapter 11)
let's set the scene. immediately before this, neil has suggested they go on spring break, implied that there was a this, then hit andrew with his "And I am nothing" / "And as you've always said, you want nothing."
so like. andrew just got punched in the gut approximately six times in under a minute. poor guy. when neil prompts him back into action, he first threatens to kill neil, and then kisses the shit out of him. squeeee, ROMANCE!!!
when i look at this scene, i think of that first quote i pulled. i think of andrews silly and clever and quick brain, and about how much work he does to keep his mask on. there are plenty of times his mask cracks, but this one is the most fun because he is so clearly being overwhelmed by FEELINGS. he is confused by neil, irritated with him for bringing up all these things that andrew long ago decided didn't matter, and furious with himself for wanting it all too. he has to freeze so that none of that slips out of his mouth or onto his face. when he recovers, he deflects thru being mean (which is useless against neil, but still a satisfying way to blow off some steam) and then kissing him :) because really, that's what it all boils down to: andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him.
and look at this, a nice transition to the final scene!
"Rumor has it I'm pretty interesting."
"Don't believe everything you hear."
Neil ignored that dismissal because Andrew was already pulling him down again. They kissed until Neil felt dizzy, until he wasn't sure he could hold himself up anymore, and then Andrew pulled Neil's hand off the beanbag chair. He held it up and away from them for an eternity, then slowly pressed it flat against his chest and let go. Andrew tensed up under Neil's hand but relaxed before Neil could pull away. --(The Kings Men, Chapter 15) (The second Chapter 15) (Because thats something we have to clarify in these dumbass books)
oh my GOD. has a scene ever scened like this scene scened. has a touch ever meant so much. has a character ever tried this hard. ok, once we've all finished banging our heads against the wall and screaming, let's review:
andrew wants neil so bad it makes him want to murder him. but andrew also wants neil so bad that it makes him want to TRY. im actually going to take this apart bit by bit because if for some reason you're still reading this madness, i think you'll appreciate the detail LOL.
ok, first: before this paragraph, neil confronts andrew again with the gravity of their relationship, and andrew plays his usual game of deflecting and bullying. that doesnt work (andrew, has that EVER worked???***) so of course the next action is kissing.
and kissing and kissing and kissing.
and somewhere in all this kissing that is so good that neil is dizzy, something in andrew says: i want more. he takes neil's hand, maybe on impulse, and has to stop to think about what he's going to do. and then he tries to give: he places neil's hand on his chest, LETS GO, and then relaxes under his touch.
its hard to tell how much of this was impulse and how much was thought through. im willing to bet it was mostly impulse, especially because andrew doesnt hit neil with a "i never do anything i dont want to do" when neil acknowledges that this is probably something theyre not ready for. (instead, andrew reacts by deflecting/bullying -- "One hundred and one" -- and then more kissing. so predictable!).
but still! it says so much. it says that he wants and wants and wants, he dreams about things he thinks he'll never have. and neil keeps trying to prove him wrong, and andrew wants to believe him so badly, wants to SHOW neil that he's starting to believe him. scream!!! andrew invented romance. he put neils hand on his chest and LET GO. he said: "look. im trying. i want this too, even if i cant even think the words." he said: "i want to figure out how to trust you."
because underneath it all, i believe andrew is a deeply hopeful creature, and that is the thing he hates most about himself. he wants a home, he wants a family, he wants to belong -- and it makes him feel so fucking foolish. its easier to wrap these wants up in duties and protections, concrete and emotionless things. but neil never actually wanted andrew's protection, yet he still wants andrew more than anyone ever has before. thats fuckin earth-shattering. theres only so much deflecting and bullying and kissing you can do before some of that deeply buried hope claws its way out.
SO YEAH i really didnt need to do all that but i did. if youre still reading then like LOL youre a trooper hope u enjoyed the 2AM Nerd Rory show. but i think about andrew a lot (obviously) and hes such a difficult character to write, so returning to scenes like these three really help ground me in the version of him that lives in my head. so that i can put him in situations :)
***actually wait i just remembered one time where the bullying/deflecting worked, so here's a bonus. in ch 10, the make it to finals and have a party at abbys. andrew and neil are outside, and neil is frustrated with andrews apathy -- "Would it kill you to let something in?" / "It almost did last time." -- and then also starts talking oh so earnestly about how andrew could be court if he'd just TRY. andrew, obviously, gets mad and asks Neil if hes capable of talking about anything other than Exy. which actually hurts neil's feelings, because neil just really likes talking to andrew about exy (the thing hes most passionate about) & deeply values his opinions, and hes upset by the implication that they dont actually have this in common.
and like, you could read this as andrew just being sick of talking about exy lol. but i see it as part of the pattern. andrew is triggered, first of all. and then neil is being a little too earnest about the future and andrew, talk to me. and andrew's fucking overwhelmed !!! he does not know what to do with this! so: lash out. hit neil where it hurts. deflect and bully.
#my writing#ive done a lot of unhinged things on this site but like this might be up there#welcome to the depths of how much i think abt this goddamn CHARACTER
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"The Woman In Me" by Britney Spears
*Warning: These are just my thoughts on the work. I would not discourage anyone from reading a book please form your own oppinions.
Growing up I knew who Britney Spears was, I mean who did not? She was an amazing pop singer, known for being wild and having a drug problem. I remember seeing pictures of her shaved head, people said she shaved it to avoid giving a hair sample for a drug test. I am old enough to recall the #FreeBritney movement. A core memory for me was the "Leave Britney Alone" video from the early YouTube days. When the news of her conservatorship ending broke I recall friends celebrating online and much fan fair. As a casual enjoyer of her music I was vaguely aware of her situation but I never knew the extend of her plight.
When "The Woman In Me" came out the internet was a buzz, I recalled seeing this work everywhere and people saying how powerful of a read it was. I finally got my hands on it and over the last two weeks I read "The Woman In Me" and here are some of my thoughts.
The book starts out with a family history focusing on the women in the family. From violent emotional outbursts to self deletion, there is clearly a history of mental illness which is an overarching theme. Growing up her family was poor, her father was abusive, and her mother was erratic. This is a difficult situation for any child and Britney found her solace in creativity, specifically writing, music, and dancing. Her passion for singing and dancing got her on Broadway before the age of 10 and on mickey mouse club after. After a brief stent in her home town during middle school where she played basketball she sang for a record company and became a huge celebrity. From then on her private life was over, she was scrutinized by the public and the paparazzo was all over her.
No one can prepare you for fame, you life changes in ways that you cannot imagine. When she talks about her relationship with Justin, how his family was so stable her her family was so abusive and cold it highlights the disparity between the rich and poor. This concept does not only refer to monetary security but also emotional security. Britney was raised monetarily and emotionally poor, the lack of a solid foundation of caring encouraging people in her life is the greatest tragedy of this whole story. She was not prepared to be ogled by grown men as a teenager, she was not prepared to be hounded by paparazzo, she was not prepared to be put under a societal microscope and be blamed for corrupting the youth. The lack of an emotional foundation and people to confide in, in my opinion, contributed heavily to depression and sparling. Before I move on I wanna make it clear that Justin did cheat first and he did not receive the cultural backlash that should have followed. Also I'm insinuating that Justin has a much more stable home and family life than Britney which, in my opinion, contributed to his success.
Fathers protect your children, is a phrase I often heard growing up. To children the father is a protector and a shield against the world. Britney did not have a shield, her father was abused by his father and he intern abused his children. He inflicted emotional, verbal, phycological, legal, and financial abuse on Britney. Abuse by a parent/guardian is such a betrayal of trust. As a child you want to trust your parents, as an adult you want to believe that even if the whole world is against you your parents have your back. But not for Britney, her father used her like a work horse to enrich himself through a conservatorship that should not have existed in the first place. Also, warning tangent, the abuse of the legal and medical system accounted here is atrocious. Based on what I have been reading a conservatorship of Britney should have had shaky legal ground to proceed. Did they drug test her? Was her fathers history of abuse and financial situation taken into account when appointing him? The system seems ripe for abuse and I hope its changed soon.
Ok rant done back to the work, now under these conditions of restricted freedom and being controlled more than a toddler the next logical step would be to get out as soon as possible. But remember this person is being held captive by their abuser who removes access to the outside world and anyone who would be willing to assist the abused person. To add to this Britney has children who were used as leverage over her to make her comply with their demands. The extend to which her children were used to control and manipulate her echo the tactics of the past employed by men to control women.
I read this work and it reminds me of so many instances in the past. Here we have a wonderful, kind, talented, and beautify woman forced to bow and bend to the will of a man who exploits her body for his own gain. If this is not a pimp I don't know what is. This book made me mad, it was emotionally taxing, I know alot more about conservatorships now and I pray this happens to no one else.
I give this work 5 kittens out of 7.
#book review#booklr#books & libraries#book blog#the woman in me#conservatorship#britney spears#free britney#britney bitch#essay writing#celebrity memoir#celebrities
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