#granted i wasn't completely right about her but geez

[fighting-these-demons]

They really went for pain with this OP. That breakup is front and center! Ow. 😭😭😭

Thought I posted this a couple days ago but I guess I saved it as a draft.

I guess they have to do Blue Predator's Tragic Backstory SOME time. May as well get it out if the way half way through Season 4. 🙄

I'm gonna be honest I completely forgot that the Inter High has 3 days I thought it just had 2.

So what they're doing is stretching each day into a season and while I Don't Like That because I'm losing out on a whole years worth of whatever the boys get up to and their own 3rd Year Inter High, I do at least understand it now.

You go into an anime and it's so cute and it's about sports and you think to yourself "There's no way this will be triggering! It's Sports! What could possibly happen?"

And then Boom. 👊 💥

If he'd talked to his parents or like literally anyone and talked this shit out I feel like maybe someone could have steered him on the right path but his shame kept it quiet and he met the absolute worst enabler on the planet.

o7 RIP 🪦 kids y'all are GOD AWFUL for each other and literally everyone else around you.

How has an adult not noticed any of this bullshit? Don't they have a teacher for their club?

Good for him I guess? Midousuji seems like he's using him but he's probably aware if that and happy about it honestly.

Wish he wasn't let loose on everyone else though.

Of course the only introspection on feelings and actual confession so far are from him. Of course. Because this is the ONLY Homo in the series and everyone else are just Best buds! Nothing to see here Upper Management!

This is bolstering my Blue Predator Red Herring argument.

Lord if literally anyone else had gotten ahold of this kid he may have been OK after a couple talks. That's what sucks so bad about it.

He may have still been unsettling and obsessive but probably not like predatory.

Idk though that puts a lot of blame on Midousuji and while he definitely pushed him down that slippery slope with both hands there's plenty of hand and foot holds on the way down fir him to stop and get his footing and be like "idk man is this really the right thing for me to be doing?"

And dude just threw his hands in the air and laughed with glee on his way down to the bottom.

Jesus the jump scare

Man good for him that his confession went well and I'm glad they avoided the Show Canceling Next Season Destroying No Homo Beam but like,

At What Fucking Cost though?????

I hope he gets some kind of talking to and redemption. He's got 2 years of high school left for someone to step in and set him on the right path before he's out on his own and he deserves that chance.

Granted I'm saying this halfway through the episode because I keep pausing to avoid the episode so.

Oh geez Midousuji really actively taught him that huh? Then again dude knows that's not cool and does it anyway. 😕

He has sense at the back of his mind he's just actively silencing it to indulge in what he wants.

I haven't called it quits and skipped an episode yet but this might be it honestly. This is so rank. 🤢🤮

You know what good for toxic masculinity smoothing Izumida's self preservation instincts so effectively that this terrifying behavior slides right off his brain like water off a duck.

He just does not comprehend.

His subconscious does but he sure don't.

And I'm glad for him.

[shidoukanae]

Dull and Charming (VRAINS speculative fic)

Note: This fanfic was written BEFORE Vrains aired so everything here was merely speculation before the show began (although some aspects turned out to be eerily accurate despite me merely headcanoning random shit). Specifically, this was written before we learned that Akira was Aoi’s brother which was like two weeks before the show aired (if I remember correctly, April and the first week of May are all a blur tbh) and is also the reason I refer to Akira as her “father”. Summary:

In which Aoi’s path crosses with that of both Yusaku Fujiki’s and Playmaker’s and the creepy little pets that accompany them both. (speculative fic)

Relationships: slight but not really Aoi ZaizenxYusaku Fujiki, Angelmakershipping

AO3 version for further notes: Link

If there’s one thing thing Aoi Zaizen knows, it’s how to keep her head down.

Of course, there’s no other option. She can’t act the same in the real world as she does in the VRAINS world. The real world is a cruel place to people like her, people who are dull and flat - side characters to someone else’s story. No one expects anything from her, no one wants more than the money her family produces. She is not anyone important, no, not here, but rather a showpiece, a prisoner to the family inheritance.

“Keep your calm,” her father had always told her. “You are the heiress to this business. You must not act in a way unbefitting for our image.”

So, as it is, she acts dull. She is dull. Here, she can’t be anything more than a girl who holds a fortune, a centerpiece to a wealthy family and yet a student who is considered nothing more than a futile existence. When her family calls upon her (as they always do), she’ll act as her father expects her to - a polite and respectable woman who is always eager to oblige the image of those who meet her.

It’s here Aoi hates. She hates the real world. She hates her role, her family, her wealth. The only time she is not dull and boring is when her connection to wealth is made evident. Wannabe charmers and tactless delinquents have been after her for her money. Nothing she can’t handle, of course, but she trembles in disgust at the very thought of them. She, in their eyes, is an object of desire, a claim to escape from poverty and thus a figure of dollar bills and not someone who should be appreciated for her true self.

However, Aoi has a savior. Blue Angel. Her counterpart, her performing persona in which she is allowed to be free. As a Charisma Duelist, she isn’t limited by her family or the people she is forced to meet in her everyday life. Rather, she is someone famous, someone popular, someone who is not dull. She’s a star, an idol, a Duelist who can catch eyes and charm everyone with her cheerful gaze. As Blue Angel, Aoi is someone her real self can never become. She’s adored, beloved, and no one can take that from her. Not even her father.

But, even so, her existence as the Blue Angel must never be known. Her father has made that very evident by his disgust towards her alternate self.

“A disgrace,” he’d always say, enjoying a cup of coffee with frowning lips as the TV recalled one of Blue Angel’s - her - latest battles. “Such a disgrace. Blue Angel is nothing more than a circus clown. I can’t imagine her real self would be much better. She’s probably just some buffoon girl who fancies herself a star.”

At those times, Aoi wants to scream. To yell and shout and toss away her stupid, stupid facade of dullness and laugh with hysteria because he’s talking about his own daughter and he doesn’t even know it. The mere idea makes her want to keel over, to burst into fits of giggling so unlike her real world self because her father hates the very thing he’s taken from her, the very thing she is never meant to represent, to taste or to spread. Freedom.

But, oh boy will he never know. No, never . She will never, ever relinquish her title to him. As Blue Angel, she’s free. As Blue Angel, she’s a rebel, an idol, someone who can never, ever be forced into performing like little doll Aoi.

Regardless, that doesn’t change her situation. In the real world, she’s dull. An ordinary human, someone not worth acknowledgement outside of those who seek her family’s wealth.

And, yet, she’s stumbled upon something (some one ) interesting. She can’t escape it, this chatter that echoes down the hallways, inside the classrooms, inside her mind. Playmaker. The star of the show, the mysterious hacker with aims that the media wants to know. She’d met him recently, in the VRAINS world. It had been an accidental brush, a mission that had somehow coincided with the virtual duel she’d enacted on behalf of her online audience. He had waltzed in with the notion of ignoring her (just like in real life. She hated being ignored but she hated being acknowledged by those unworthy to her), with playing hero as a hack-gone-wrong had nearly corrupted her avatar. The corruption had been scary, she had felt her identity leaching from her, but Aoi admits she was thankful for his quick thinking. His so-called legendary skills had proved worthy when the virus was driven back and her avatar, her life, her freedom had remained intact. But was was ever more intriguing than the legendary hacker’s appearance himself was his little pet.

Playmaker’s little creature was interesting, a black humanoid silhouette lined with purple. Orange eyes that were somehow lifeless yet living had bored into her, a hidden threat in its hovering presence. There was something...off about the creature, not just in the fact that things like that just didn’t exist in the VRAINS space (all creatures were kept solely on Duel Fields - a monster like this one shouldn’t be outside such a thing) but because it had its attention focused upon her. It seemed to see past her, past Blue Angel and into the heart of Aoi Zaizen.

And, that scares her. Her real world identity could never be uncovered, must never be uncovered. Such an upset in the balance of her life, such a tragic discovery would land her in great harm. What would her audience think when they saw that their idol, the illustrious Blue Angel with witty charm and grace, was actually a dull and bland high school girl with rich connections? Would they look down upon her then, like the rest of the world who knew her? Would they trod upon her with upturned noses, their adoration for her persona a facade in the face of her true identity? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t want to know, but Playmaker’s creature seemed to have an apt for making her question her own safety.

~~~

She’s at school after the incident. She’s back to Plain Jane, another cast member in a list of more valuable actors. Playmaker’s little exploit has already produced a scandal with speculation about how Blue Angel and Playmaker are together. Partners in crime, so to speak, as if the hacker and idol are partners in some elaborate conspiracy theory. Aoi laughs inside at that. She doesn’t know Playmaker much less his true identity; the news media is jumping to conclusions yet again.

Class starts and, regardless, her peers are ready to embrace a discussion.

“I heard that the Blue Angel and Playmaker could be dating,” a girl says, swooning over the idea. She clasps her hands together. “Did you see the way Playmaker rescued her? He jumped so high just to rescue her! You can’t tell me that’s not romantic!”

Aoi begs to differ. It’s not romantic, it’s stupid. Playmaker was just trying to play hero. Her fingers tap on the surface of her desk. It’s irritating enough that she’s been connected to someone she barely knows but to go so far as to say they’re an item...she’s almost disgusted by how much one little incident can perpetuate so many falsities so quickly.

A boy waves his hand. “Can’t be. Playmaker doesn’t seem like the type,” Aoi likes this boy already, “I bet he was just trying to show off and play hero or something.” Aoi really likes this boy.

“You don’t know that!” the girl says, huffing.

“You don’t anything either,” the other shoots back and Aoi finds herself almost smiling. “How about you, Yusaku, what do you think?”

Aoi’s gaze flits to the boy in the corner of their class. Yusaku Fujiki. Same class, same year, same boring and rather dull personality. He is as quiet as she is, a casual observer who prefers to isolate himself from the rabble much like Aoi does. She realizes there is something unusual about him, something quite not right, like he’s hiding himself from the rest of the world. Then again, so is Aoi. As a daughter of someone rich and as the real life counterpart to Blue Angel, she can’t act without raising suspicion.

The boy with the cotton-candy-colored hair gives them all a baffled look at having been addressed. “I…,” he begins, words cautious, “I don’t think Playmaker has any relation to the Blue Angel. This is the first time they’ve been seen with each other, right? We can’t leap to conclusions just yet…”

Ah, finally. Someone logical.

The girl and boy nod. “Damn,” the female student sighs. “I wanted it to be super romantic!”

There’s a scowl from everyone in the class and the girl promptly finds herself booted from the topic. Their teacher, luckily, decides he’s had enough and begins class. Aoi, having her fun taken from her, turns her head to the board.

Another class, another day, another dull girl in a dull world.

~~~

She’s scheduled for a live conference that very evening.

The media presses into the virtual auditorium, pixel cameras glittering with light that she knows is being translated to real-world TV news. The avatars of the news people flicker and flutter, the sheer number of those in attendance causing the servers to lag and bumble.

“Welcome, welcome,” Blue Angel says, smiling. She waves her hands to her audience and the crowd eats it right out of her hands, muttering and cheering and shouting. “As you all know, yesterday was an...interesting occasion. The legendary Playmaker bequeathed me with his appearance and, it seems, has caused you all to begin rumors about our... relationship.”

“Do you know Playmaker in real life?” a man asks, microphone straight to his mouth.

“No, I do not.”

Another bites. “Are you in any way in a romantic situation with Playmaker?”

She frowns at the eagerness in the news man’s voice. “No,” she sighs, her cheerful charade crumbling. Her patient smile wears thin and she gives them all a frosty glare. “Whatever you may assume about me and Playmaker is false. His appearance at the dueling stadium - much less his little rescue - has nothing to do with me.”

A calm voice surges through the air right after hers ends. “Did Playmaker have anything unusual with him?”

She snaps her head to the right to search for the voice. However, try as she might, she cannot find the source of such an inquiry. Blue Angel settles for an answer instead. “Such a weird question,” she murmurs and the cameras inevitably pick up her words, “but, no. I have seen nothing out of the ordinary. Just a boy playing hero.”

She remembers too late the humanoid creature with the soul-staring eyes. The press clamors for more questions, more answers, and she is forced to respond to their eager words. She searches for the voice again, for the man who asked her such a thing, but finds that she cannot detect any other presence in her midst. Had the inquirer logged off? It had been such a strange inquisition, one that would not have been made by a newsman without some hidden intent.

Whatever. She has nothing to hide. It doesn’t concern her so she won’t both with it any further.

~~~

Yusaku has been acting weird lately.

Aoi takes notice of it when the boy’s calm posture suddenly, one day, becomes fidgety and uncertain, his gaze flitting past anything and everything. He seems to be searching all the corners of the classroom, of the school and of the faces that inhabit his peers. She’s caught his gaze more than once and it’s honestly bugging her. If he hadn’t been inspecting the faces of his other classmates she might have suspected that he was suspicious of her. There was something in his light green eyes, something wild and rather desperate that made her uncomfortable. It was as if something was wrong with Yusaku, a certain kind of distraught that made her more paranoid than anything. And, though she wishes to prod her classmate for nosy answers, she doesn’t want to bring attention to herself. That is the last thing she wants, the last thing her father wants.

Still, that doesn’t mean she wants to uncover the cause of his distress. It is better to occupy her mind with what Yusaku is thinking of than to suspect he knows something that can lead to her ruin.

So, Aoi makes a point to track him down after class ends, wandering after him in a way that keeps her from out of his view and yet invisible in the eyes of her classmates. Yusaku is sharp, a keen master of concealment, and sometimes it is hard for Aoi to remember that he is a daily presence in her life. Still, even if he’s a main character and she, a side character (but aren’t they both side characters? They’re both dull and invisible, members of a society that adores the obedient), there is no reason for his strange actions.

Regardless, she can’t shrug off something rather...malevolent about him. Something that makes her skin crawl with a special type of frightful loathing. There’s something not quite right about him, something rather strange and odd. It’s like he’s detached, isolated inside a shell that nearly hides his presence among the crowd.

He pulls into an abandoned hallway and Aoi realizes too late that there is nothing in that hallway to hide behind. Yusaku’s head is moving side to side, eyes straying, and she’s sure it won’t be long before he notices her behind him. Aoi can’t retreat into back into the hallway of students - they’re too packed and loud and she doesn’t want to lose Yusaku while waiting for him to pass the hall - so she ducks into the nearest room - a storage space full of boxes and books.

There’s a clatter of noise, a loud thump that sends a jolt of pain down Aoi’s shoulder. She hisses, wincing at such recklessness. She hopes her uniform hasn’t torn. Her father won’t let her hear the end of it if it has even the slightest of tears.

The door locks into place and Aoi sighs in the midst of darkness, welcoming the pitch black that filters over her. Darkness is oddly comforting, a kind of blanket that tucks away her worries at being seen, at being scolded and scowled at because she’s not perfect and she should be perfect.

She waits a few seconds, waits to see if anyone had heard her crash, and then she props open the door.

...Or, she tries to. However, the door is locked shut, a solid barrier of steel that stands between her and the outside world.

Instantly, the darkness suffocates her. Anxiety halts her breath, her eyes widening and her hands shaking as she pushes against the door. It doesn’t give. Frightened, she rams into it, her shoulder against the metal surface. A sting of cold spikes through her and she winces, resorting to kicking it with her feet. The door barely budges, mocking her with the faint light that filters in from little slits.

“Anybody?” she asks, voice a quiet cold. It would be bad if anyone finds her inside a locked room. She can already imagine the rumors that would start if such a thing occurred. Her father would undoubtedly rage at her, furious that his precious doll would have produced such an unfitting image of herself. “Is anybody there?”

A paper moves. She freezes, glancing around. “Hello?” she asks, hating the terrified tone in her voice.

“Hi!”

Aoi nearly screams. The sound of something brushing against cardboard comes from her right and she whips her head in the direction of the sound. “Who’s there?” She inwardly scolds herself for how cliche she’s sounding, wondering if she has landed, somehow, in a virtual reality horror movie set.

“A friend, friend!” the person replies, voice oddly high-pitched and rather cutesy.

“Are you a student?”

“A student, student?” the voice inquires, seemingly mocking. “What’s a student? Is that what those are?”

“Those?”

“The humans with black and blue and white skin!” Something about the word human sends a shiver down her spine. “The slaves to the system.”

Aoi watches the darkness warily. “You have a strange way of talking.”

“I talk weird?” the person ponders that. “I’m still learning.”

“Are you a transfer student? How’d you get in here?”

“I came here! I was exploring and then I was stuck inside. But now you’re here! Who’re you?”

“I prefer not to tell my name to those I don’t know,” she says, carefully. If the person beside her is a transfer student than it is unlikely they will remember her as soon as she escapes. She’s dull for a reason, dull to the point of invisibility.

“Oh, that’s sad,” they say. “I like new people.”

Footsteps. Aoi perks at the sound, pressing her ear to the door.

“What’cha doing?”

“Shh!” she hushes the person with desperation, trying to listen to what she had heard seconds earlier.

“Sorry,” the voice whimpers and she hears some papers being shuffled.

The footsteps become louder, more prevalent. They’re heading her way!

She pounds on the door, insistent. “Help! Is anyone out there?”

The footsteps stop and Aoi’s breath catches. Then, they run, becoming more and more distant as Aoi calls for help. Surely, whoever was out there must have heard her right? Or had they not? They had stopped, surely they knew but...the hallway grew quiet and she pulled her knees to her chest.

“Great, just great,” she mutters. “Of course I get stuck in here. Stupid me, following Yusaku like that.”

“Yusaku?” the voice inquires and then they begin to chant with a kind of adoration. “Yusaku, Yusaku, Yusaku, Yusaku! I like Yusaku!”

Great, now she’s stuck with someone who’s crazy in love with Yusaku. She rests her chin in between her legs, blinking at the darkness.

“Do you know Yusaku?” the voice asks her.

“Yes, barely.”

“Do you know Playmaker?”

“Of course, who doesn’t,” she pauses, “why the questions though?”

“I like Yusaku. I like Playmaker too. I like them both!”

Ah, great. A fanatic. Like she hasn’t had enough of those in her alternate life. Still, a bit of curiosity forces her to ask: “Do you know Blue Angel?”

“Blue Angel? She’s...blue,” the voice seems to ponder on how to produce an efficient answer. “I don’t know if she’s someone good for Playmaker. He says he doesn’t know her despite what all the news says.”

“You know Playmaker?” Suddenly, her interest in this other occupant increases by tenfold.

“Know him? I know him! Playmaker is friend!”

“Do you know who he is?”

“Yes, yes! Playmaker is-!”

The door opens. Aoi nearly startles, falling back in surprise. In the light of the doorway stands Yusaku Fujiki, panting with sweat down his cheeks.

“I...found you!” he says, eyes striking past Aoi and over to someone behind her. Then, his gaze turns to her’s, befuddled and wide-eyed with a kind of horror. “Aoi,” he breathes, “what are you doing here?”

Her face turns a angry scarlet, blood rushing to her cheeks in a manner half between embarrassment and shame. She straightens out her skirts, pulling herself out of what might seem like a scandalous position, and turns to face the other occupant of the room behind her.

A black humanoid being with orange eyes glances back at her, a strange apparition of creepy proportions with purple lines running down its body. Its head is in the shape of a misshapen teardrop, its fingers like that of a frog’s and with shoulders a bit too emphasized for her liking. It’s not at all human, not at all a transfer student like she thought, and she wonders how this thing could be sitting in front of her like it was a real existence. She stares at it with a kind of fright, scuttling backwards as it tilts its head in her direction.

“Why do you stare?” it asks in the same voice of her prison-mate. “Isn’t it impolite to stare?”

“What-?” she turns to Yusaku with wide eyes and a gaping mouth halfway between screaming and shouting, “What is that!?”

“I am not a that,” the thing mutters.

“He,” Yusaku hesitates, looking side to side, “is a newly developed program that I’m helping to beta-test. SOL Technology gave him to me in order to see whether or not he could function well in society. His name is Ai.”

“Well, obviously he’s not doing his job well,” she mutters, glaring at the offending thing.

It looks back at her. Orange eyes bore into hers and Aoi thinks she’s gone through this experience before. Playmaker’s companion, his little pet , resembled something akin to the creature before her just…smaller. She supposed it was possible for both Yusaku and Playmaker to have different models of the same program – Playmaker was a hacker easily known for his exploits so it’d be no wonder to her if he made a VR replica of the program (for god-knows-what-reason) – but the sheer coincidence in itself makes her nurture tiny seeds of suspicion.

“Blue Angel!” the program says suddenly. The human-sized creature makes a chittering noise that forces Aoi to press herself up against a wall in sheer horror at the name. “Blue Angel, Blue AngelBlueAngelBlueAngel BlueAngel…!” She stares at the thing with shivers wracking down her body. How did it…!?

Yusaku looks between the both of them and frowns. Her gaze flits to his and she shakes her head desperately. “I...I don’t know what he’s talking about!”

“Blue Angel!” it says and then turns to Yusaku, pointing at him. “Playmaker! Blue Angel, Playmaker!”

Yusaku’s cheeks flush a slight pink seemingly unbefitting of himself. Is he embarrassed at having his little toy go out of control or is he thinking other thoughts that might associate her to Blue Angel? She supposes she doesn’t want to know either way. The creature claps its hands in a kind of maniac glee, acting as if it was almost a child.

The boy, chasing away the color on his cheeks, gives a sigh and offers her a hand. “He didn’t do anything to hurt you, did he?”

“No,” she refuses his hand and gets to her feet. Bad mistake. A arrow of pain shoots through her shoulder and she grimaces, gritting her teeth in frustration.

“Blue Angel is hurt,” the creature observes and she gives it a glare. It seems to avoid both meanings of her look, pondering: “What should I do if someone is hurt?”

“Help them,” Yusaku says to it and then turns his gaze back to her. “Is there anything I can do for you, Aoi?”

“Is my uniform torn?” she asks, turning around. The action makes her wince but she’s more concerned with her attire than with her aching shoulder.

He gives her a confused stare. “No, why?”

“No particular reason. Thanks.”

He seems unsure but doesn’t press farther. “You’re…welcome, I guess?” he places his hands in his pockets. “What were you doing in here, anyways?”

She remembers her little spying game and immediately goes quiet, unwilling to admit her guilt.

Yusaku shakes his head and then smiles at her. “Forget it. It’s none of my business. Do you need anything? A ride or some ice for that shoulder?”

“I’m fine, thank you,” she says, unable to keep the cold chill from crawling into her voice. “I’ll be okay on my own.”

“You sure?” he inquires but when she doesn’t offer a response he sighs and beckons to his program. Ai immediately gets up and waltzes over to him, giggling. Yusaku pats it on the head like he might a child and it coos with appreciation. “Alright, before you go though. Can I ask for a favor?”

A little alarm rings in her head, a warning that echoes of her father’s voice. Favors are never good. Favors can cause scandals, can show people that you’re willing to put up with them and to be wheedled endlessly so that they can extract all that they can out of you. People are greedy and, while that may be Aoi just being cynical, she’s well-aware of the fact that boot-lickers have existed around her for as she’s been alive. As long as she’s tied up to her father, to her family, to their wealth, she will never be considered anything other than a living doll for someone else’s pleasure.

“Go…on,” she struggles with the words, uncertain.

He claps his hands together and bows forward, his arms over his head. “Please don’t tell anyone that you saw Ai today. He’s supposed to be a secret and the public isn’t supposed to know about his existence,” Yusaku pleads, an expression Aoi never thought she’d see on his face.

“Alright,” there’s a whoosh of relief from Aoi. It’s a reasonable request and not at all what she had been suspecting from him. “However, I want a favor from you too. To even the deal. If you must.”

He gives her a surprised look that makes her suspect he hadn’t thought she’d inquire anything of him in return. “Please don’t tell anyone that you saw me in here,” she says. “I’ll agree not to mention your little friend’s existence if we all pretend that we didn’t all meet up here. Sound good?”

Yusaku gives her a calm smile that speaks little of his earlier confusion. “I can deal with that. Thank you, Aoi, I promise I won’t tell your secret if you won’t tell mine.”

“Friends!” Ai shouts, startling them both. “Playmaker, Blue Angel! Friends!”

They both stare at him, at each other, and then give nervous laughs.

“Your program doesn’t seem to know what he’s talking about, does he? I don’t look anything like the Blue Angel,” Aoi gives a slight giggle as if amused by the “random” connection to her alternate persona.

“And I don’t look anything like Playmaker,” he agrees with a glare at Ai. His creature deflates in a sulky sort of manner. “Come on, Ai, let’s go.”

“Go?” it perks up. “Go home?”

“Home,” Yusaku agrees and then begins to exit. He looks back at Aoi, smiles, and then waves goodbye. She reciprocates the response and watches as he leaves. Pulling herself together, she straightens up and then abandons the storage closet. With a deep intake of breath to calm herself (and the crazy thoughts in her mind), she makes her way down to the school parking lot.

She wonders how furious her father will be if he ever found out that she had made a deal with a stranger behind his back. Then again, she supposes it doesn’t matter. Her father won’t know, and so long as his father doesn’t know then her father won’t care. She may be his dull and boring little doll but she’s still Blue Angel. And, Blue Angel knows exactly how to rebel.

She’s a trickster, after all.

[twh-news]

'Loki' Costume Designer on Her Key Inspirations and What's Magical About Tom Hiddleston's Pants | Collider

By Liz Shannon Miller

"To see people actually really pay attention to all that hard work you did and all those details — it's an incredible fan base that way."

When the opportunity to speak with Loki costume designer Christine Wada came up, I leaped at the chance, because there's one aspect of the Disney+ drama that I haven't been able to get out of my head: Loki's (Tom Hiddleston) button-down shirt. While at first glance the shirt, part of the wardrobe given to him by the Time Variance Authority, looks like a traditional business-appropriate top, the shoulder seams indicate that things are not quite what they seem.

In short, the shirt is a microcosm for the entire show in some ways, especially in relation to the mysteries of the TVA that we're just on the verge of understanding — the mark of some brilliant costume design. Below, Wada indulges my questions about the aforementioned shirt before talking more generally about the inspirations behind other TVA ensembles, what it's like knowing that her work will be studied by cosplayers for years to come, what you might not have noticed about Tom Hiddleston's pants, and of course that Classic Loki (Richard E. Grant) ensemble.

Collider: To start off, I'd love to learn more about the shirt that Tom Hiddleston is wearing for most of the show, because it's just different enough to really stand out.

CHRISTINE WADA: I know. Well, it's kind of an interesting journey we went on with that design, because, just to give you a little backstory, a lot of the design was just taking things that we all have seen before and twisting it a little bit, which is also what the story does.

So it was just re-imagining things a little bit and putting a spin on them. But that shirt, I remember Tom and I were not sure ... Sci-fi sometimes can get so corny and take over the emotional undercurrents of things in this sort of story. And so, we were worried at first that it would. And when he put it on, it was just like, oh no, it doesn't, you are completely pulling this off. And it was a really great moment, because it did feel like we needed a little something that wasn't of just this modern era, that took us into this weird world of the TVA. And I think it worked.

Was there any specific inspiration you had for it, specifically the yolk construction on the shoulders? It really does just stick in my mind.

WADA: There are some Japanese pattern-makers that do interesting origami-esque ways of constructing clothing. So I do have this book on that, and then we just did our own take on it. I think origami is a very good way of describing a lot of things about this show. It is just sort of the twisting up of the things to make them like all of a sudden magical. You know?

Of course. In a general sense, what can you say about the general inspiration for the TVA costuming?

WADA: Well, it was for sure we had this Mad Men thing as a launching place for our overall language. And then it was, well, what do we do? I tend to prefer to design from a place of reality. And so, we thought about a police station, or the DMV, or all of those things, to create a structure to the TVA. And then it was really just taking those cues and twisting on them a little bit. And I'd say there are definitely some elements inspired a little bit by Terry Gilliam, of really making things feel a little found. And that color palette, I definitely tortured a little bit over, because I mean, all that fabric like Tom and Mobius is actually all vintage '50s suiting fabric, the sharkskin.

I don't know if you really can see it, but what's really magical about Tom's pants is that sharkskin reflects two tones, and one is green and the other's brown on his pants, and green being very Loki. So it was always just like, ugh, the perfect fabric for him, and it's 1950s fabric. But I was tortured over it a little bit, because brown isn't always the most obvious choice for a sci-fi futuristic thing. I felt like it set the tone for the mystery of the TVA and that you think it's a benign sort of this benign organization. And I kind of took a gamble on that brown palette for portraying a more benign organization.

Another detail I love that is the flare on Ravonna's coat.

WADA: Thank you. Because that was also this weird, crazy conversation that I remember having very early on with Kate. It's just like, "Wait, what does this skirt mean versus a pant on a woman?" Because the lovely part of the show is just being able to really have these conversations for real about gender and what certain things mean. And do they add power, or do they take away power? What does a woman in a skirt versus a pant mean? You know? And that was a huge kind of conversation. We didn't really want to strip her completely of all femininity.

It is definitely an important detail, given that she is in menswear so much, or menswear-esque ensembles. So it does add something to that.

WADA: Right. And just saying something about that you can have power and be powerful as a female, with a female flourish. Right? There's nothing powerless in that.

On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, I must ask about the classic Loki costume. What was your mandate there?

WADA: The mandate was just making it feel of that older era as much as possible. Which of course, I love because I've grown up on some of that all those old comic book shows, the Wonder Woman era. So the mandate was just to feel like he was really from that time, like we plucked him from that time of superheroes and that he'd been sitting in there for a while. You know?

Of course. I feel like I've seen some commentary from him on social media, mentioning Kermit, but I imagine that's what happens whenever you wear that much green of that color.

WADA: Yeah. I mean, geez, or if you wear those horns. What a pleasure to have somebody bring a costume to life like that man can.

Absolutely. This is a random detail, but is there something we should pick up on from the fact that Mobius and Loki end up being dressed pretty similarly?

WADA: I think it speaks more to the whole TVA and trying to strip people away from their origins, shall we say. It's just trying to take the personality out of it. And it's also a little nod to the film noir-type vibe.

As my last question, let me ask — in taking on a project like this, how conscious are you of the knowledge that what you're making for this show is going to be cosplayed at hundreds of conventions for the rest of the time?

WADA: Well, I mean, to be completely honest, I'm not really from this world. So it was a complete pleasure to see people's excitement over the costumes and just the MCU in general. I just think it's so cool that people pay attention to such detail. It just makes you want to do your job even better. To see people actually really pay attention to all that hard work you did and all those details, it's an incredible fan base that way. They're not there to rip you apart. It's amazing. You know? When does that happen?

Do you have people reaching out to you asking, "How do I make this?"?

WADA: Yeah. I've had a couple of people reach out, for sure.