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ephemeral-afterlight · 5 years ago

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Mourning at Midnight

(UwU so Hey. i’m back with some more trash)

Word Count: 7480

Summary: It’s scary, in a way, how in moments like this one, Logan feels as if his consciousness floats away from him, leaving behind only a wave of white-hot, searing anger that drains out of him just as quickly as it comes. There’s sleet running through his veins, and his brain has frostbite, and his fingertips are numb in the face of the ringing resonance after his outburst. The pain comes next, a simmering heat blistering below his fist until it’s coated and red and the beginnings of a bruise are starting to form. He can’t help but stare helplessly in front of himself, eyes burning and filling and blazing with how much they beg to close.

He doesn’t want to look up, to face the suffocating silence that’s fallen over the room. He doesn’t want to see their faces, their disappointment, their anger, their contempt. He wants to yell. He wants to sleep.

Logan sinks out.

Warnings (could potentially be small spoilers, nothing too big, but if you don’t have any triggers I’d suggest you skip reading this!):

There are no u!sides in this, nor does anyone have malicious intent, but the other main three (Virgil, Patton, Roman) and Thomas, to a lesser extent, treat Logan unkindly (not on purpose) and don’t realize their errors. This will be resolved! Just… not yet OwO

Being ignored/talked over

Mental/emotional breakdown

An unidentified illness with symptoms including: [extreme persistent nausea (lots of mentions), vomiting (once), bile, weakness/weariness, shaking, lightheadedness, double vision (once), headache, body aches/pains, breathing difficulties]

General negativity including: [self-doubt, self-deprecation/depreciation, feeling worthless or unloveable, self-hatred]

Anger management/temperament issues

Unintentional self-harm (not anything like c-tting, Logan gets a bruise as a result of an angry outburst)

Separate small, vague allusion to self-harm, but it’s not outright and not detailed in the slightest. Could be read as not even talking about self-harm

Potentially triggering descriptive imagery (metaphors and similes to describe how a character feels or percieves a situation, not anything that actually happens) including but not limited to: [glass, sharp things, blood, injection, live wires, loud noises, screaming, general mentions of pain, masochism, sound torture, knives/blades, wounds, drowning/suffocating, pressure]

Temporarily unresolved tension between Logan/Deceit/Remus and the other sides/Thomas (there will be a happy ending in the next fic, though, don’t worry!)

A few vulgar threats of violence (somewhat explicit, be careful) to the other sides from Remus (out of protectiveness; Remus means well but he does Not express it in a healthy way) that is not carried out or even humoured

Remus’ morning star and descriptions of its destructive capabilites

Loceit as a romantic pairing (for now…. UwU)

Sympathetic “dark” sides

That should be it for warnings! Let me know if I need to add anything!

A/N: So! This is finally done :D !! I’ve been working on it on and off for the past week or so, and although I know it could be way better, I think this is where I’ll keep it! This is technically a sequel to my other fic Tea at Twilight and it takes place in the same universe, and although you don’t need to read that before this to understand the story, I strongly suggest reading that first to get more of a feel for the dynamic!

This is inspired by @illogicallyinclined and her absolutely amazing Disaster Trio™ headcanons/au, and was prompted by this post so I just started writing! I meant for it to be a bit shorter, but of course my brain would Not let it go, even despite my ADHD, executive dysfunction, and massive amounts of writer’s block.

This is also unfinished! It is the second of three main works, all happening chronologically in the same universe. The first one is Tea at Twilight as stated previously, then this one, and there will be a third and final installment added to finish off this short little trilogy! I’ll be adding this to the series on AO3, so when the final fic is up, it’ll all be together for an easy reading experience. It is also possible that there will be other small fics in this universe (UA, as has been recently coined) that operate outside of the timeline of the main story, so be sure to watch out for that!

Thanks to Jay once again for creating these lovely headcanons that haunt my dreams every night, and for inspiring me to get back into my writing groove despite a writer’s block that’s lasted for over three years! Hope this isn’t too terrible, Jay! ilyy <333</p>

Also, a huge thank you to @illogical-anxieties for being such a good cheerleader/enabler! You really do help to keep me motivated and on track (and keep my ADHD in check), which is probably why this was even able to become a full-fledged story rather than a WIP to be buried where unfinished fics go to die T~T Love you tons <3</p>

(If I’m being honest with myself, this is just an excuse for me to live up to my IRL title of “Living Thesaurus”, coined by a friend many years ago and has since spread around to other friends and family. My title is thriving, and I suppose that means I should actually have proof of it, so there’s that.)

(Cross-posted to AO3)

(Read Part 1 here)

He can feel it building.

There’s far too much left to be desired when it comes to frustration. The natural helplessness that makes way for anger when you try so hard to do something or be something for someone and you’re pushed down by anything and everything between ignorance and antipathy. The fear that nothing you can do or say will ever be good enough. The buzzing, ticking, pinpricks upon pinpricks of heat injected into you until your blood and heart have been replaced with glass, fragile as a crumbling stone wall. It’s not as if he hasn’t had his outbursts before, spurred on by the familiar sharp pulse of rage that courses through him in a split-second whirlwind. It builds inside him, and he can feel the pressure in his limbs expand until it feels like his muscles are being squeezed out of existence and then he snaps like a rubber band that’s been pulled too taut. He’s not in denial of the fact that his impulsive, blinding reaction when met with frustration is not okay, and only detrimental to the demeanour he’s trying to retain. He knows it’s childish. He knows it’s immature, and pathetic, and wholly invigorating, at least until the adrenaline has worn off and he’s in the aftermath of his knee-jerk reaction to the tension coiled in his arms and legs and head.

It doesn’t mean that Logan is particularly in control of it though, despite his self-awareness being far above the level that most people with anger management issues are at. Maybe there’s a certain quality to it that allows for growth; it’s not as if Logan stays angry, or that he wants to hurt people. He loves the others, painfully so (as much as he loathes to admit it), to the point where he’s so desperate for their approval that he tampers down his passion, that spark that used to drive him to learn and speak and be happy just to avoid being cast out and abandoned, alone in the way he never wants to be. He wants to find a way to temper the fall into those dark, consuming waters, a way to mute the buzzing and ticking. He wants to seal those exposed live wires and release the tension to the point where he never lashes out ever again. He wants to, and he doesn’t know how to, and that fact infuriates him in an ironic, endless cycle of self-imposed and self-directed enmity.

Logan still thinks on this often, even now, wracking his brain for solutions to problems that realistically won’t be solved as easily as he wishes they would. Excerpts and quotes and data and statistics from many different studies about anger and temper management and irritability and everything in between seem to figuratively run amok through his brain, a screaming crowd of witnesses to the chaos and failure found in his ability to filter through the nonsense and come to a satisfying conclusion, any conclusion at all. He notices how his fingers tremble as they slip into the handle of his coffee mug, endures the dull ache in his mid-to-lower back from falling asleep at his desk for the majority of the day under the guise of work so important he holed himself up in his room to complete it. He ignores the way his head pounds, how he feels so dizzy that he might fall over and pass out any second from lightheadedness. He suffers through the loud conversations between the other three that are typical to the dinner routine that Logan cannot deal with today, not with this headache poking at him like figurative needles in his head.

When he senses the summons from Thomas stirring up the familiar but nonetheless odd ticklish sensation on the back of his neck, Logan can feel the tension knot up his muscles, and the combination of the two just makes him want to growl in irritation. The others, having also felt the summoning, seem to get impossibly louder, ringing and stinging and singing in his head. He still persists, despite the fact that he knows he shouldn’t be out doing anything today that’s likely to exacerbate his sickness, because Thomas is important, more so than Logan himself. No matter how much he wants to hole himself up in his room and sleep the day away, his host needs him, so Logan simply forces his mask of indifference to melt into steel. He refuses to budge, not for the first or last time, and he rises up in the real world standing straight and rigid and as put together as he’s always expected to be.

When he’s finally settled into his usual spot, as still as he can possibly be to not exacerbate the roiling nausea disquieting his stomach, he’s able to take in the other four arranged in their usual positions in Thomas’ living room, already having begun a conversation that Logan has missed the premise of entirely through his all-eclipsing, obfuscating malady. His vision doubles, like broken fractals of glass reflecting onto themselves, and then it pulls back together, merging back into something visible, something manageable.

“Well, I’m sure Danny likes you, too! You just gotta ask him, kiddo!” Patton exclaims, high voice pushing through the heavy, suffocating cotton in Logan’s ears, and the words snap the bespectacled side to attention. He needs context, needs to know what they’re talking about, needs to be able to help for once. Maybe he has to endure the bad to be able to put out the good, and this is where the climax is, the top of the rollercoaster at such a high altitude that oxygen is thin and dispersed before he shoots down the tracks in a rush of fresh air, relieving and calm and sanguine as he’s finally able to ground himself. A shiver runs through Logan’s body, between his shoulder blades and down his hip and through his leg, and his eyes flutter under the weight of consciousness. It recedes, the flow is ebbed, and his head clears to a more sustainable level.

“Oh, that’s so boring, Padre! Thomas should hire a band to play! And we can rig up streamers and confetti and there can be a cake and dancing and a party to celebrate!” Roman crows, throwing his arms and hands up into his signature pose to match his full, booming tone. Patton squeals, clutching his cardigan in his hands to pull excitedly at the sleeves as he bounces giddily on his feet. At the suggestion, as the polar opposite to Patton’s reaction, Virgil grimaces, hunching over even further in his jacket as he protests with every way he can think of that the situation could go wrong. Unsurprisingly, Roman takes personal offense to it and refutes Virgil’s points with the same intensity and fervour that’s been present in himself and his interactions with the anxious side since day one. Logan sort of understands, can infer that they’re discussing how to ask out Danny, a new friend of Thomas’ who has very quickly turned into a crush. In that case…

“If I may interrupt? While I don’t share all of Virgil’s worries, I do agree with his position in regards to the fact that there isn’t a need for such extravagance. It might embarrass Danny, for one, and for two, there are many ways such an excessive venture could backfire, such as technical difficulties or general human error. The idea is, while exciting, frankly outrageous,” Logan says, his role as the voice of reason renewed once more. It’s his job to sift through the conversations they have and get to the important parts, and he likes his job. He’s good at micromanaging, mediating the chaos, good at storing information to sort and consider and veto and bolster. It’s how he operates, how he copes. “We can think of something else to–”

“Oh, shut it, Pocket Protector. We all know you don’t care about romance, but this is important! Thomas wishes to find love with the second most handsome prince in the world! After me, of course,” Roman exclaims, in that boisterous, self-aggrandizing way of his, the way that hides his real insecurities he buries so deeply in himself he doesn’t know how to find them again. Oddly enough, it’s not Roman’s defense mechanism that throws Logan off, it’s the way that Logan stopped talking almost reflexively to allow the other side to finish his statement, as if the prince’s words were more important than his own, and it speaks as testament to how much Logan’s been conditioned (or maybe he’s conditioned himself all on his own) into putting everyone else before himself, even when it hurts him or Thomas. Logan is ignored in the face of his implicit trust, and he hates that even as it pours salt in the open wound, he finds himself taking a depraved, spiteful comfort in the familiarity of it all.

“That’s not what I–”

“Awe, c'mon, Logan! Thomas deserves to have a happy relationship and someone he can live out the rest of his life with! Doesn’t that sound nice, to grow old together with someone you love? Isn’t that romantic? Oh, it just makes me so warm and fuzzy thinking about it!” Patton interrupts, hands clutching each other over his heart as he swoons. Logan knows Patton doesn’t mean to be rude, but he still can’t help but be a little hurt by it, especially since he’s now been ignored twice consecutively. He’s just trying to help, and if that means reigning in Roman’s exorbitant ideas that border on egregious at times, then Logan knows it must be done. Although he encourages Thomas to seek a relationship to improve his mental health and provide more financial stability, there is a limit to how much he can disregard himself and others in doing so, and that doesn’t mean that Logan is the bad guy for pointing that out. He knows that. He knows that, so why does the dismissal still feel so sharp in his chest?

“Yeah, romance is cool and all, but what if it doesn’t work? What if Danny actually hates us? What if we ask and he laughs at us or says no and then we’ll be standing there like an idiot and then he’ll never wanna talk to us again because he thinks we’re pathetic and stupid and–”

“Hey, now, don’t be such a Debby Downer, kiddo! I’m sure it’ll go just fine! We’ll just ask him. The worst thing that can happen is he’ll say no, right? Shouldn’t we give it a shot?” Patton consoles before Virgil can go into a spiral. Although his well-meaning reassurances are meant to be comforting, his voice just grates on Logan’s ears, tinny and hollow and misdirected.

“That’s what I’m afraid of!”

Logan wants to keep listening, he really does, but the noise is rising to levels where it’s too much to handle. He’s already sensitive from his illness, but the discussion that is very quickly turning into an argument falls in pulses through his head, sound torture to the broken, hopeless masochist. He’s barely holding onto himself at this point, consciousness like a dangling thread that swirls and dances and twirls with even the tiniest breeze, a hint of movement sending it shivering and quivering as it spins. It wouldn’t take much for the thread to fray from the weight pulling it down, or to saw through it in a clean slice that leaves it floating feather-light upon air currents, petals spiraling to the ground.

Petals. Flowers. Thomas could bring Danny flowers! It’s perfect! Danny is especially predisposed to gardening, and he frequently talks about different flowers and what they mean based on the type and colour. His interest in botany could make this a sweet gift, to show that Thomas pays attention to what Danny enjoys, and can be the perfect segue into asking him on a romantic outing. Yes, this could work! It would appease Roman’s inclination to classic romanticism while still being practical and not unreasonably expensive, give Patton his ideal relationship fantasy (and a “warm and fuzzy feeling”, apparently), and allow Virgil a little more breathing room, so-to-speak. This is something they all should be agreeable towards, and that confidence is enough to supply Logan with enough energy to push past his lightheadedness and offer a solution. He’s proud of himself for taking the others’ feelings into account, something he knows he’s not always been the most proficient at, and for coming up with a compromise that will likely satisfy everyone’s wants and needs.

“What about bringing him flowers?” Logan asks, pleased and antsy as he feels hope well up in his chest. He doesn’t push it down this time, and he thinks maybe, just maybe they’ll finally listen to him, that they’ll tell him that he did well, that he’s being considerate and maybe even say thank you–

“How would you even know, Roman? It’s not like we just go out and hire mariachi bands every Saturday!” Virgil says with furrowed brows, and Roman huffs in indignation, and Patton sighs as he looks between the two of them, and Logan’s words fall on deaf ears. They didn’t even hear. They didn’t listen. They didn’t care they didn’t care–

“Uh, hey, Virgil, what if–” Logan tries once more to speak, nausea rolling angrily in his gut, head spinning dizzy round and round and round and round and Virgil flinches.

He flinches. Because of Logan.

Virgil hasn’t been afraid of any of them for a long time. Sure, in the beginning, when they fought one another on nearly a day-to-day basis, there would be a moment before he could pull on his figurative mask that a flash of fear would go through Virgil’s eyes, and the sadness kept within wouldn’t subside even when he growled and snapped and blustered whichever side had the misfortune of picking a fight with him during a time where his first instinct was to keep away the pain and longing and loneliness the only way he knew how. Over time, that flash of fear dulled, morphed into something more manageable, more trusting. The sadness never really went away, but it was met with warmth, a soft contentedness that danced in his eyes when he realized he had a family to turn to. He hasn’t been afraid for a long time. And yet, he flinches away from Logan, just from him speaking.

Is he really that bad?

Does even simply the sound of his voice have such a negative association for Virgil that it prompts genuine fear and discomfort? Has he really scared Virgil that much? What did he do? How can he fix this?

Maybe he shouldn’t.

Logan’s felt disconnected from the others for quite a while now. He loves them, of course he does, but he doesn’t feel like he fits. He’s the metaphorical jagged puzzle piece, the one that should snap into the final vacant space but is so broken beyond repair that it doesn’t fit quite right. He wants to belong, to feel at home whenever he’s with them, but he doesn’t. He yearns for the acceptance that Virgil earned, the support that Roman is held up by, the respect and adoration Patton seems to acquire so casually and naturally that it’s like he doesn’t even have to try. Logan wants to be like them. He wants to be loved, but… that isn’t really his place, is it?

Love is not an inherent thing. It’s something that’s earned, by doing good things and being important enough to someone that they give it freely. It’s something Logan doesn’t understand, but despite that, still desperately, painfully yearns for. He wants to be loved, the way he loves the others. He wants to be a part of their famILY, to have that implicit trust in each other that only comes from acute, profound, deep-seated love. He wants that fondness directed towards himself, that devotion borne from hapless, radiating appreciation. The humbled esteem, the maudlin, theatrical longing, the passion and yearning and helpless, acquiescent love that bursts from the seams in a manner that will never diminish or fade. He wants that. Badly. And he’s finally ready to accept that he will never have it. He’s okay. He’s okay. He just needs a moment. He just needs to breathe.

The others must have continued with their arguments long ago, seemingly unaware of anything outside of themselves. Logan supposes he shouldn’t really berate them for that since he often falls victim to getting lost in debate as well, but something is wrong with Thomas, going by his expression and demeanour and the logical side can’t ignore it anymore. It’s highly unlikely that the other three will come away from themselves for long enough to notice, and it doesn’t sound like they’re anywhere close to coming to a conclusion amongst themselves, so Logan is perfectly fine with bearing that responsibility upon himself to check up on his host and make sure he’s okay. He’s the most important one here, after all, and it’s Logan’s job to help him, guide him in his life and decisions.

“Thomas? Is there something wrong?” Although the words come out clear and precise as usual, Logan’s throat burns, and he can barely breathe. He wants to sleep, he wants to sleep, but Thomas needs him, and that doesn’t happen often nowadays, so Logan does nothing but wait impassively. His host bites the inside of his cheek, then sighs as he stares off at the wall, lost in thought. Since he says nothing, the logical side assumes he will continue to say nothing for a few more moments, and decides to give him a once-over to gather more information and any possible context. Thomas’ eyebrows are furrowed, and his posture far from adequate. His expression is troubled, and his arms are crossed loosely, a pointer finger scratching at his elbow unconsciously. There is no obvious cause for his confusion and/or upset in himself or anywhere in the room, apart from the current dilemma, but he was fine before, so something must have changed to distress him now. Logan cannot ascertain what Thomas needs simply from observing him, so he concludes that the best thing for him to do is wait.

So he does. And he does so for a minute, two, five. Every second that ticks by feels like a needle is being shoved into his eyes, his brain, his legs, his everything and it takes more effort to stand than he’s used to. Breathing is difficult, but that isn’t exactly a new development, so at least he knows how to ignore it. Eventually, ten minutes pass with only the sound of the other three arguing in the background, and it doesn’t seem like Thomas is really all there. Although the action makes him want to throw up, Logan shifts forward, moving out of his usual spot and into Thomas’ own. He still doesn’t acknowledge any kind of input outside himself, so Logan lays a hand on his host’s arm gently, which snaps him out of his trance in a slow, unhurried kind of way. Thomas gives him a glance when his logical side sighs, tampering down any audible signs of his nausea in a manner that is unbeknownst to the host, but returns to staring at the wall without a second regard.

“Thomas?” Logan murmurs, bile rising in his throat and shoving his hidden suffering even closer to the forefront of his mind, as though it hasn’t been there all along. It’s hard to think, through all of the white noise and weary irritation and the tiniest sliver of hope that he crushes immediately, but thinking is his job, and he needs to help. “Are you alright? You can talk to me.”

And then Thomas is shrugging him off, turning away as he tells him he should “just stop” with piercing words, that he “can’t do anything to help”, and the rejection feels like a metaphorical knife has been shoved into his gut. Logan can feel the pain and the heartbreak and the insecurity materialize into a cold blade, twisting and twisting just to make him hurt more. Logan is ignored for the fourth time today, by the person it hurts to come from the most, and he can feel the sun whipping and screaming in his chest. His breath is stuck, sucked down into his throat, a sharp pain localizing in his neck, and he can’t help but bring his hand up to rub at the spot with trembling fingertips as he unsteadily lurches back to his regular spot. The others don’t notice, of course, or if they did, they don’t care. Then the nausea he’s been fighting against surges like a violent wave at full force, drowning him and the hurt is forcing its way into his mouth, his throat, his lungs, and he can’t breathe–

His fist flashes down from his neck to the banister, punching the railing so hard it echoes in the reverberation created from his vicious, angry snarl.

It’s scary, in a way, how in moments like this one, Logan feels as if his consciousness floats away from him, leaving behind only a wave of white-hot, searing anger that drains out of him just as quickly as it comes. There’s sleet running through his veins, and his brain has frostbite, and his fingertips are numb in the face of the ringing resonance after his outburst. The pain comes next, a simmering heat blistering below his fist until it’s coated and red and the beginnings of a bruise are starting to form. He can’t help but stare helplessly in front of himself, eyes burning and filling and blazing with how much they beg to close.

Logan sinks out.

There’s a very short window of time where the logical side rushes into the en-suite bathroom after rising up in his bedroom, trembling legs aching with exhaustion. Barely a second passes between him falling to the floor and emptying the meager contents of his stomach into the toilet, the bile burning in his tender throat as a reminder of his failure. The floor is cold and hard beneath him, ridges of tiles pressing unrelenting into his knees through his wrinkled jeans. His head spins, unbalanced as it whirls through itself, words and thoughts and ideas that mean nothing and everything simultaneously existing hollowly in a falling echo. There is pain, and aching, and soreness, and exhaustion, and Logan wants to sleep.

It’s hard to rise to his feet, head throbbing and knees shaking as he wipes the spit from his mouth on a folded square of toilet paper. The pain nags at him, persistent and irritating in its attempts to shut Logan out, almost clear in a way that belies the foggy haze blanketing his nearly incoherent thought process. Marking a clear vantage, a faultline to anchor onto is no easy task, and all Logan wants as he stumbles over to his bed is a landmark to pinpoint and find his way back to. He careens toward the mattress once he’s close enough, finally letting his legs give out underneath him when he’s as near as he can bear. It’s so difficult to stay upright in stiff misery, pangs and twinges of sharp pain coursing through his limbs and his back as his muscles are forced together under pressure.

In another familiar, frustrating bout of anger that seizes his breath before it can escape his lungs, Logan shoves his fingers in the knot of his tie, yanking it forcefully even as the motion jerks his own head forward uncomfortably along with it. His fingers run down the length of the fabric, and it falls apart at the end of its cycle, much like Logan has, and he snaps his arm back to chuck the dark blue, silky length to the ground in a motion that does little to relieve the rage built up inside him.

He can feel it building. The buzzing, the pressure, the glass in his veins running on shards. He feels the pinpricks upon pinpricks, the fire burning in his lungs, and the stone crumbles, and tumbles down, and he’s like a rubber band pulled taut.

He cracks, shrill pressure in his knuckles and head and torso, and nothing happens.

Then Logan hears the telltale squeak of his door swiveling on mildly rusty hinges, and a familiar voice echoes right through his bubble, shatters the stone wall like a bulldozer running at full speed, and then the wetness spills over his lashes and over his stony, impassive face.

“Oh, Lo,” Deceit murmurs, sad and tender as the breath rushes out of him and Logan can’t do this. He wants to throw out his fist in a wide arc and pummel the wall next to him until his knuckles are raw and bloodied and bruised beyond repair. He wants to scream until his throat is torn and his voice is gone, lost in the uncaring, empty void that coldly swallowed up his passion. Happiness has never seemed further away, and he knows he deserves it. But then he remembers all of the times where the pressure in his limbs and the buzzing in his brain forced him to lash out, to hurt others, and he thinks that maybe it’s okay for him to hurt right now to even the score. With the last of the metaphorical wall around him in tiny pieces, fragments of a life he never wanted to live but he desperately fought to keep, he lets his guard down for the first time in years.

Logan’s face crumples under the weight he’s burdened his being with, body immediately drooping under the heaviness that he’s forced himself to fight through. He finally submits, and the tears come in an endless stream over his cheekbones, itchy and hot and terribly, mindlessly relieving. It feels so good to finally let the negative emotion he’s pent up inside him out, to fall out of his cage he’s lived in high above a swirling ocean of release and fear and freedom. And he’s so, so lucky because he has someone to save him from the fall.

Deceit’s kneeled down in front of him, wiping away the tears as they fall with uncharacteristically degloved thumbs, and Logan can feel the smoothness of the scales twisting and trailing down his fingers. Every so often, Deceit’s pointed thumbnails catch lightly on the skin of Logan’s cheek, and it just causes him to cry harder. The vulnerability in the room is palpable, a wispy breath of worry and insecurity and trust trailing over their skin, blanketing the room in a warmth that runs even warmer when Logan reaches up to gently lay his hand over Deceit’s own. He shows his appreciation through tactility when the words he so desperately wishes to say are lost in his throat, blocked by the barrier that separates his newfound submission and the part of him that’s still clinging to the feeble grasp at acceptance he craves so dearly.

Logan can barely tell what’s in front of him through the kaleidoscope in his vision, but he doesn’t really need to see to throw himself forward off the bed and bury himself in Deceit’s chest, of whom lets out a surprised noise but doesn’t hesitate a single second in wrapping his arms tightly around the other side. He strokes Logan’s back comfortingly and offers him whispered reassurances through the heart-wrenching sobs and broken, croaky whines that disappear into his cloak, hand coming up to cradle his head in the overwhelming reflexive instinct to keep the logical side safe and happy. It feels like a dagger has gone through Deceit’s chest at the knowledge that Logan has been suffering for so long and hasn’t been able to let it out or just simply be held, the self-preservation that is at the core of his function as a side going off like alarm bells with every sniffle. Logan curls into the first person who’s ever offered him physical affection and emotional safety, and his fists clench the fabric at the snake-like side’s shoulders as tightly as he would if he were to never, ever let go.

Logan is out of breath even as his heart begins to calm, beating and beating in his ribcage and in his lungs. The lump in his throat prevents him from speaking, but he figures it’s okay to not be heard audibly, just this once, and speak with his actions. Although he doesn’t know what he’s saying when he pulls back and wraps his arms around Deceit’s neck, laying his face in the crook of other side’s neck like a small child would, not really, he hopes that his intent still comes across in some sort of intelligible, hopeful way. Deceit seems to take this as a request, a promise, and slides his grip to a point where he can hoist the smaller side up in his hold, carrying him just like a parent carrying their kid to their bed after they fell asleep during a visit to a friend’s house. This situation is much more loaded, stained with impurities and unsure withering, but it’s just as raw, just as real, and Logan finds himself feeling safer than he ever has before.

At some point, they end up on the bed, Logan having been manhandled into a more comfortable position for both of them, which is laying across Deceit’s lap without ever having let go of his neck. The logical side feels small and vulnerable, something that he would normally hate, squash down, bury so deep within himself that he doesn’t even have to acknowledge it. But honestly, right here, right now, he’s so goddamn exhausted, and forcing himself back into the state of repression he’s been in for so much of his life would take too much of a toll, more than he already has on himself. The wetness rolls down his cheeks, bold, blue precipitation falling in droplets onto his skin and the fabric of Deceit’s cape, sinking and spreading and thinning out into airy nothingness. And the nothingness enraptures him, pulls him in even as he breaks and whimpers and spills wisps of forgotten feelings into empty space, at least until his bedroom door opens once more with a loud click, because nothing Remus ever does is truly quiet.

“Hey, are you guys having a sexy party without me? How c–… are you… crying?” Remus asks, suggestive tone split and watered down into something confused, and surprised, and angry. The younger twin kicks the door shut behind him with his foot, more out of muscle memory than conscious forethought, something that stands with nearly every action Remus executes. Logan turns his head wearily, not lifting it from where it rests on Deceit’s collarbone. The latter of the two takes that chance to clear away some of the tears that didn’t get absorbed into his clothing, hoping that since the stream is slowly dispersing, his cheeks will stay dry this time. Remus slowly approaches, body tense and eyes piercing as Logan’s face is wiped off for the nth time, offering no other sounds or words as he crouches down to examine how the bespectacled side’s skin is rubbed red and sensitive.

Logan just whines softly, stare falling to the bedsheets, observing nothing in particular as he tries to figure out why words are failing him. Something that’s such an intricate part of himself, the communication of thoughts and ideas and knowledge that defines so much of who he is and how he exists, it’s dwindled and diminished into nothing. Deceit seems to understand, he always does, and reads him so perfectly it’s a wonder the two didn’t become closer in the beginning, with how much they truly are alike. A scaled hand makes it’s way up to Logan’s head and cards through the soft, disheveled hair there, scratching lightly at his scalp in a motion that seems to draw the aching tension caused by his distress out of his body, leaving his muscles to relax and melt into the chest that holds him upright.

“Something happened before I came in here. I assume it has to do with the others,” Deceit murmurs into thick, heavy air, stale with shame and tired hopelessness. Remus’ eyes flick to Logan’s own, actively searching for some sort of confirmation or denial. There’s a beat of silence, and Logan’s eyes flutter in a fatigued attempt to stay awake, and the nausea creeps its way into his stomach once again like a predator stalking its prey. Deceit repositions himself quietly, pulling the smaller side impossibly closer, as if he knows that he’ll need the added comfort. With his body squished into a protective embrace, and his tie laying flat on the floor below, forgotten and scorned for what it represents, Logan swallows hard around the sharp block in his neck and nods through his nonverbal affliction.

At the minimal admission, something in Remus’ eyes darkens, bathing the bright craze that typically resides there in something hateful, and vicious, and dripping with chemical absolution. He shifts away, rolls onto his haunches in a way that doesn’t read as entirely intentional, as though he’s been physically forced back with the weight of the confession. There’s so much there, in the way his breath comes out shallow and gravelly and low like a beast biting and snapping at the bars that contain it, fighting against the cage it’s locked inside. Nostrils flare, and jaw sets, and fists clench white as bone, and Remus straightens up to his full height, intimidating and looming and dangerous.

“Who?” he spits, venom coursing through the single word in molten streams. It’s a protective fire, serious in a way Remus rarely is, and the storm in his eyes and aura only becomes more turbulent and intense and solid as he reaches behind himself to slowly seize his morning star from where he keeps it at the ready. Pulling it to the front of him is an unexpectedly slow event, yet still ferocious in its quiet, cold fervour. The silver weapon swings in a steady arc around the side of Remus’ body, catching the dim light in a threatening glint, the gleam alluding to its deadliness in a way that’s almost unexplainable. The spiked mace finally comes to its resting point, hovering in the air just beside the fierce side’s leg, unassuming and ready to drive its way into an unlucky antagonist’s skull.

“I’ll cut their fucking throats. I’ll rip off every single limb from their bodies until they’re nothing but a pile of flesh and blood. They’re gonna pay for this,” Remus snarls, each threat bathed in acrimony and malice and choked by fury ripping through the tempest. Logan stares through misty eyes, half-lidded and concerned but too out of it to muster much of a coherent thought. Thankfully, Deceit is still there, soft and warm and well-equipped to deal with Remus and his behaviour. The snake-like side sighs, reaching out to just barely snatch up a frilly black sleeve, tugging him closer and meeting surprisingly little resistance despite the rigidity of the tallest side’s posture. Each breath from Remus comes out like a bullet, brisk and arduous and punctuated by a pang of impermeable guilt.

Even as Deceit motions Remus to lower himself onto the bed in front of them, the latter of the two is still apprehensive, terse movements and restless eyes that flit between anything and everything they can to avoid stagnation. It’s almost fearful, in a way, primal in its aptitude to think, and cultivate, and vindicate a wrongdoing that was never his fault or responsibility in the first place. Logan hates that they need to save him, hates that he doesn’t truly believe they actually care. There’s a level of certainty with himself and with others that the logical side hasn’t reached yet, and it feels too close and yet too far, kept obscure and secluded and almost clandestine in the way it’s ostensibly unreachable.

With the help of Deceit’s hand to guide his way, Remus slowly lets go of his morning star, tossing it to the side with a pensive, trembling swallow. It clatters to the ground, metallic clang resounding in vibrations, tilde-shaped waves that bounce off the façade and yell out to one another. Muted shrieks upon perfect, flat, neutral paint, sepulchral oscillations attacking the drywall.

“You can’t hurt them. I know you’re angry. I am too. But hurting them won’t solve anything, Rem, you know that more than anyone,” Deceit says meaningfully, smiling in a way that’s sad and distant but caring and compelling and relaxing for the tension wrapped so tightly around the three of them. The snake-like side lifts the hand that’s not in Logan’s hair and reaches out to grab Remus’ own, firmly but gently as he squeezes his fingers in a way that reassures, and consoles, and reprimands, not unkindly. He admonishes, and breaks that anger and frustration, and builds up positivity and alleviation and reprieve from everything that allows that buzzing, ticking, those pinpricks upon pinpricks. His care and concern washes over you, paternal in a different way than Patton operates, and it’s why Deceit is so comforting to be around. He manages a respite from vexation, a refuge in sanctuary, discreet freedom for the flawed, defeated dreamer.

“I’m mad. I’m mad that they hurt you, Lo-Lo. I want them to feel the pain you’re feeling,” Remus mutters, frigid and defeated, head bowed and gaze distant in that transparent manner of his that easily broadcasts all of his thoughts and feelings and wishes. Logan feels the pride welling up in his chest without even realizing it, quietly delighted at the progress Remus has made in being clear and forthcoming with his emotions and impulsivity. A weary grin makes its way onto his face, predictably aggravating the soreness in his cheeks, yet he finds himself indifferent to it, unperturbed by the plight that’s ravaged his body for the day, and probably longer without his notice. He wants to reassure the younger twin, to smile and laugh and brush all of it off, but his eyelids droop, and a pathetic mewl is the only thing able to escape his lungs. Of course, since there’s something Logan wants to say, Deceit somehow knows how to communicate it, just as prompt and courteous and perceptive as always.

“We can talk about this later after Logan has slept. Don’t worry too much, Rem, and don’t do anything stupid. If you get angry again, please go to your paints instead of your legs,” Deceit instructs, more of a suggestion than a demand, but he hopes Remus will listen and be mindful anyway. The latter of the two bounces his leg anxiously, grumbling unintelligibly under his breath as he stands up in one swift, fluid motion. As Remus makes his way over to exit the room, Logan nudges Deceit’s hand with his head gently, trying to bring his attention back to the massaging motion that ceased sometime during the conversation. The snake-like side’s eyes flick downward to meet the smaller side’s own half-lidded, teetering gaze, and he huffs a laugh after a moment of searching. Logan doesn’t know what he finds, but he realizes that he doesn’t really care that much about worrying over every little interaction anymore.

Remus finally turns and glances back as he swings the door open, brows still furrowed and shoulders still hunched, but simply shakes his head and leaves. The door closes much softer than before, thankfully, so as not to be too harsh on Logan’s migraine, an unusually conscientious thought from someone that rarely shows consideration to the needs of others that the logical side appreciates that much more. As the sound of Remus’ footsteps slowly fade with his retreat down the hallway, the two of them left are bathed in silence, one that is marginally less heavy and thick than before.

A small while passes afterward, only punctuated by soft breathing and light scratching noises from nails trailing through messy hair. Logan feels like he might pass out any minute, what with the comfortable, quiet understanding the two have come to rest at, but some part of him says to wait, to push through the mind-numbing exhaustion for just a little while longer. That part of him is probably just being considerate toward Deceit, who Logan can’t imagine would be very comfortable with another side falling asleep on him and laying on him for an extended period of time, but he figures that it’s a good of a reason as any. It’s not about him feeling like a burden. It’s not.

Eventually, Deceit must start to get tired as well, or maybe he’s sore from Logan’s weight on his legs, so he sits forward, apologizing quietly for disturbing the peace, and he moves them into a more comfortable position. The new arrangement is far more snug and cozy than the previous one, Logan thinks drowsily, as his head hits the pillow across from Deceit. They lay there on top of the blankets but make no move to pull them up, just content to stare lazily at one another in the dim, ambient light cast by the desk lamp in the opposite corner of the room.

“Why?” Logan finally asks, and although he loathes disrupting the silence, he needs to ask. The words are scratchy in his tender throat, a charcoal whisper on a steel canvas that scratches and sketches away with nothing viable left to keep through the wind that blows the dark dust off the surface. “Why are you helping me? Why do you care?”

Deceit just hums, sending Logan a weak, distracted smile. He mulls over the words, tossing about the meaning and possibilities in his head and on his silver tongue, rushing in an uncertain river through valleys of golden sand.

“I am self-preservation at its core. I exist to keep Thomas safe and healthy and thriving, and that also means you and the other sides by extension. But… it’s not just that. Even though I feel physical pain whenever one of you or Thomas is hurt, I specifically want to help you because… I care about you, Logan. I love you, and want to see you healthy and happy. I haven’t really been doing a good job of that lately,” Deceit mutters, gaze somewhere on their shared pillow, and there’s a quality to his tone that’s bitter beyond the line of frustration. Although Deceit doesn’t expand on it, doesn’t offer up a single clarification despite the heavy air and his resigned demeanour, Logan gets it. He understands, and he wants to prove him wrong.

So he does.

And that comes in the form of surging forward, fighting against the current, the pinpricks in his stomach and shoulders and abdomen, disregarding the exhaustion for just a little while longer so that he can let Deceit’s lips meet his own. Logan’s so close he can feel the shocked rush of air leave Deceit’s nose, feel the vibrations through the air as his body trembles in fear and anticipation and relief. The other side eases in, sinks closer, closer, and finally moves his lips in a careful, emotional dance that leaves Logan dizzy and breathless, for entirely different reasons that have plagued him for the past day.

“Lo,” Deceit breathes, low, wanting, and he pulls back to give Logan a chance to catch up. A scaled hand comes up to caress the logical side’s cheek, a soothing, cool balm for the raw skin beginning to heal there. “I didn’t… I didn’t think…”

“I love you,” Logan breathes, the words he’s refused to say, to acknowledge, to confront welling up through his throat and for the first time, he lets them spill out. The dam has broken, debris left to descend and submerge in the depths of the sentiment crashing through in a roaring, passionate rapid at the narrowest point yet. The words come, and they don’t stop, and Logan almost can’t believe how right they feel on his tongue. “I love you, I love you, I–I love you so much, Dee.”

Logan is like a rubber band, pulled taut and still and trembling under the pressure. And maybe he’ll split, shoot apart, torn in two pieces that will never fit back together again. But maybe he won’t. Maybe instead of snapping in half, he’ll snap back, and that thought alone gives him a quiet comfort that he’s not used to allowing himself. He’s waiting, hoping, and he’s okay enough for now.

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linkspooky · 6 years ago

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Himiko’s Love + Shigaraki’s Hate

Commission art done by Giorfu

This is the first post in a series that analyzes the relationship Shigaraki has with each individual league of villains member. Himiko has a deep bond with Shigaraki that has helped him grow into more of a person, more under the cut.

1. Himiko ‘Loves Everything’ and Shigaraki ‘Hates Everything’

Shigaraki and Himiko from their introduction to one another seem as different as night and day. One is cheerful, with a cute face, always smiling that looks like nothing more than a normal teenage girl. The other cynical, foul mouthed, with a face covered in wrinkles most often hidden away from others, so outside of society his appearance even in casual clothes has a lot in common with a NEET. Himiko is extroverted and always trying to be friends with others, Shigaraki is introverted and at first extremely stunted in the way he interacts with others, and like a child cannot go a single interaction without throwing a tantrum or resorting to violence.

The two of them are so different I could go on all day listing the ways in which they contrast each other as opposites, but that’s not much of an analysis. The most important area in which they oppose each other is the central idea to each of their characters, their motivations, their raison d'être.

Himiko has stated repeatedly that she’s motivated by love, her love for life, her love for individuals, she has an unspecific and hard to define general idea of love that she follows. Himiko’s life goals are extremely vague, but it can be said she wants to enjoy her life, and therefore love everything about her life.

Himiko is moved by what she loves, even if she’s never quite good at verbalizing, or describing what the love is to others, just that it’s an overpowering feelings that overrides everything for her. To Himiko, even things like identity are secondary to love, as she’s completely willing to throw away her own ‘self’ for the feeling of becoming someone she loves.

Shigaraki is motivated by love’s opposite, the other side of the coin. What he feels and what informs his actions is an overpowering hatred for pretty much everything around him.

Unlike Himiko who is constantly enjoying herself, Shigaraki’s mentality is defined by his constant sickness towards not only himself but also everyone else around him. As if the act of living itself fills him with nausea. Himiko is a pleasure seeker, chasing her own twisted definition of happiness gives her peace of mind. Shigaraki however, finds his peace of mind not in pleasure but in pain, pleasure’s opposite.

To the point where he purposefully triggers himself with his unpleasant memories of the past to keep them inside of him. Shigaraki’s stress response has always been to inflict pain on himself in some way. Shigaraki suffers from excoriation disorder, as he picks at the skin of his neck obsessively when he cannot handle stress.

When he loses his sensei, we see him grab his head and hold the hands of his deceased family members in the exact same way he did when he was a child.

Both Shigaraki and Himiko’s actions come from powerful emotions that override everything else for them. Shigaraki was taught to hold all the pain in his heart, that there was no purpose in relieving his burden the only thing he could do was hold onto it. Which then makes sense as to why, Shigaraki’s first and primary stress response is just to inflict even more pain on himself.

To use a metaphor, Shigaraki’s heart is like a cage where he locks all of his negative emotions away. Himiko’s is a zoo where every single cage door has been left open, allowing the animals to roam free and do whatever they want. Shigaraki, everything from his destiny to inherit All For One being decided for him as a child, and the design of his costume has a motif of restraint and restriction. He holds everything in, and therefore limits his own freedom.

He is physically restrained by everything, his feelings of obligation for All For One due to him being saved by the villain, his legacy as the grandson of Tenko Shimura which was the only reason he was chosen for his fate in the first place, the feelings of his dead family members which he literally wears as hands gripping and restraining parts of his body like symbolic chains. As destructive as Shigaraki is, as little as he cares about society’s rules being imposed on him, Shigaraki is still defined far more by his lack of freedom than his freedom.

If Shigaraki is too restrained however, then Himiko is his complete opposite too free. Every actions Himiko takes is a grab for agency and freedom. If Shigaraki is somebody firmly rooted in his identity and past as Tenko Shimura, than Himiko can literally escape from her own identity. She is even said to be used to this, she quickly steals the appearance of another person and disappears into the crowd which is how she has lived without being caught for so long. Himiko’s identity is malleable to what suits her needs at the moment, and her needs are usually just whatever would make her happy.

Shigaraki is motivated by feelings deep in his heart, and a sickness underneath the surface of his skin that he can never get rid of. Himiko is motivated by shallow, momentary pleasures, that she enjoys and then forgets and moves onto the next. They seem like complete opposites, love and hate, but rather they are two sides of the coin and complementary to one another.

Even though the feelings they are motivated by are different, love and hate, pain and pleasure, the way they respond to and their perceptions of their own feelings are the same. Both of their own feelings of love and hate are vague, when they try to describe them to others they’re almost never understood, and that’s partially because both characters don’t really understand themselves except in the most general impressions of their own emotions. Shigaraki “hates mostly everything” and Himiko “likes things, and wants to do what she likes.” Neither of these are specific goals at all.

Shigaraki is even partially aware of this. That even if he achieves the concrete goals that All For One left behind for him, eliminate the competition, become the next king of the underworld, none of that is going to make him feel better. The same is for Himiko, even though she is chasing love she’s not really interested in any kind of concrete or permanent love. She doesn’t even seem to grasp what that is. Rather, she chases the feelings of love not really knowing what she would do when she gets there.

Himiko is aware on the surface that girls her age have friends, that they call each other by nicknames, and she knows that she wants that, but she’s not really aware what actual friends are or act like.

Himiko wants love, but when she tries to talk about love people either do not understand her, or they are physically disturbed by her. Her own version of love also has nothing to do with the other person loving her back, but rather the one-sided expression of her own love. These are all symptoms of the same general problem between Shigaraki and Himiko is that they both have really no sense of self.

Himiko we don’t have the specific reasons as to why yet as her backstory was told to us sensationally by another person (though it probably has something to do with suppressing her sense of self for too long), and Shigaraki because he was not raised to be a person but rather a tool for All for One’s revenge. He was not expected to grow into his own person with his own thoughts and feelings, but rather to grow into a second All for One.

Both Himiko and Shigaraki have nothing inside of them except for these impulses, these emotions to follow, so that is what they end up using to define themselves. Yet, even though they’re guided by their deepest emotions they at the same time lack a sense of self. You would think that would make them truer to themselves than anybody else, but they have no concrete desires, and both of them can only ever express themselves in vague and incomprehensible terms.

The reason for their lack of identity is that while indulging in themselves, they at the same time reject everything else around them. Shigaraki does not at all care for the ideas of hero society, but not only that he’ll reject other villains too who are not his allies. Not only does he come into conflict with heroes, but also with other villains who are not his allies. Himiko is much the same, she has no regard at all for the thoughts and feelings of others. She can only see the world from her own perspective, to the point where she’s completely cut off from others.

Himiko only cares about her own value system. Everybody else’s thoughts and opinions have nothing to do with her. She cannot even see other people as individuals, because she is so good at becoming them. That is why Himiko’s flashback is not told from her own perspective, but rather a reporter trying to spin the tale into a tragedy.

It’s not to suggest that Himiko has no real motive for her actions, but rather Himiko will reject the values and systems of others violently. The only thing Himiko cares about is her own personal story, her own little world, she will never accept anybody else’s perspective. That is the primary reason for her disconnect for others. Yet at the same time because she is so disconnected her own identity suffers. People are defined by their interaction with others, but Himiko has been on the run from the law and constantly changing into different people on a week to week basis for several years. No wonder there’s instability present in her personality, she had no other people to look at her, see herself in, and accept herself until she found the league.

So, while Shigaraki and Himiko may seem like they are complete opposites, the fact that they feel such vague feelings towards “everyone” either hating everyone or loving everyone, makes them the same in a way. It’s because they perceive the crowd as a blur, just something to despise or love, something to direct their feelings at, the result is they are both an equal distance from everybody else.

Their feelings are those of outsiders directed towards the group that they are not a part of. They are also, a method of distancing themselves from absolutely everybody around them, as their incomprehensibility effectively prevents others from getting close.

2. The Outsiders

Himiko on the surface seems like nothing more than a shallow weird serial killer, especially since we do not have her own perspective on her backstory yet and she refuses to justify any of her violent actions with reason, as that’s the antithesis of her trying so hard not to let herself be defined by the values of others.

However, her actions while it may not be a direct reference have a lot in common with that of a philosophical outsider. By a philosophical outsider of course I’m referencing, Le’Stranger, the Stranger, or The Outsider by Albert Camus. It follows the story of a man named Mersault one day shoots dead an man without knowing his own motivations, and ends up being put to death partly because of his inability to show any remorse, but also not really caring about his fate one way or the other.

Himiko’s actions might read on the surface as killing for no reason, but one of the most famous existentialist novels of the modern era is about the exploration of a man taking a similar action. All that we know about Himiko’s backstory so far informed to us by others is that Himiko put on a mask of normalcy that one day shattered when she decided to stab a classmate for incomprehensible reasons and then run away.

In other words she mimics the actions of Mersault. There was a point in her life in which she lived among normal society, yet even among the crowds she was a stranger to them. Then one day she steps over the line herself by killing someone of her own free will, and becomes an outsider that no one else can comprehend. Both characters are similar in that they have no specific reasons why they kill, but only vague feelings that drive them. Not only that but their first kill that made them into a murderer also had no real trigger.

Here is the scene of Mersault killing the man in the book.

And then the Arab drew his knife and held it up toward me, athwart the sunlight. A shaft of light shot upward from the steel, and I felt as if a long, thin blade transfixed my forehead. At the same moment all the sweat that had accumulated in my eyebrows splashed down on my eyelids, covering them with a warm film of moisture. Beneath a veil of brine and tears my eyes were blinded; I was conscious only of the cymbals of the sun clashing on my skull, and, less distinctly, of the keen blade of light flashing up from the knife, scarring my eyelashes, and gouging into my eyeballs. Then everything began to reel before my eyes, a fiery gust came from the sea, while the sky cracked in two, from end to end, and a great sheet of flame poured down through the rift. Every nerve in my body was a steel spring, and my grip closed on the revolver. The trigger gave, and the smooth underbelly of the butt jogged my palm. And so, with that crisp, whipcrack sound, it all began. I shook off my sweat and the clinging veil of light. I knew I’d shattered the balance of the day, the spacious calm of this beach on which I had been happy. But I fired four shots more into the inert body, on which they left no visible trace. And each successive shot was another loud, fateful rap on the door of my undoing.

The point of the murder in The Stranger is that it’s not a deliberate, or passionate killing, it’s committed entirely offhand almost as an afterthought. Even in the process of killing someone Mersault does not think too much into why he is doing it, and after the fact he does not think too much of it either.

There are many interpretations on what this passage is supposed to symbolize, but one of the most direct interpretations is that Mersault thought “it would be interesting to know what it was like to pull the trigger.” The same way that people would hold a gun and fantasize about shooting someone for a moment, but then stop themselves. That means Mersault’s desire which led him to kill is not entirely as inhuman as he seems as a character. As everyone has passing thoughts like that.

The argument is that in Mersault’s situation everyone would be tempted to pull the trigger right away, or at least have that thought pass through their head. The sole difference between Mersault and other people, is that they would have had something to temper that impulse and tell themselves no, whereas Mersault did not deny himself and just pulled the trigger.

Once again it looks like a totally inhuman action killing someone for no good reason merely the idea that you could do it crossing the mind, and yet the same time it has a lot more in common with human thought then meets the eye.

So, we have Himiko who kills possibly for no good reason or justification. Except, the fact that she lacks the same part that Mersault does, the part of her brain that can resist the passing thought to pull the trigger, or to plunge the knife is the only thing which makes her different from others. Himiko is an outsider, and yet at the same time she is also someone whose desires are completely human.

She wants to smile and be happy just like everyone else. Just like everyone else she also has urges to hurt other people, but rather than resisting them she gives into them immediately, thus making her an outsider, thus making her a stranger.

Once again this might not be the deepest character motivation in the world, as a personal one, however on a philosophical level it’s fascinating and strangely compelling.

The stranger captures the state of mind as defined by the sociologist Emile Dirkeim as Anomie.

“A listless, affect-less, alienated condition where one feels entirely cut off from others and can’t find a way to share their sympathies or values.” (Source).

The hero of the outsider cannot except any of the standard explanations for why things are the way they are. He sees hypocrisy and sentimentality everywhere and can’t overlook it. He stands outside normal life, and is unconcerned with its pinched morality and narrow concerns for family and happiness.

“Mersault doesn’t play the game. He refuses to lie. He says what he is. He refuses to hide his feelings, and so society feels threatened.” (Albert Camus, Afterword of The Stranger).

While Mersault is not someone to be seen as superior to others, or even justified in acting the way he does, he is someone who would be seen as others with no thoughts and motivations behind his actions because his real thoughts and motivations are just so outside their point of view. The disconnect between himself and others is something utterly dehumanizing.

While Himiko doesn’t seem particularly concerned with the hypocrisies of society, there is still that gap between herself and others that she can never cross, that therefore makes it impossible for her to share her feelings. Himiko is also someone who refuses to lie in any way about herself. To the point where she’s almost too honest about her desires, that when she tries to speak truthfully about them she creeps others out. This is something she shares in common with Shigaraki, who every time he tries to express his own feelings usually gets called a man-child or a monster by the hero or villain he is facing off against. Their honesty towards themselves is something that makes others feel threatened.

The idea of “self” is so important to Himiko that she refuses to suppress any of it, even if it means that self is a bloodthirsty monster born with a blood sucking quirk. It’s not very tragic, but at the same time it is existentialist. She’s so focused on herself over others, that she cuts them out of the picture with a literal pair of scissors.

If society as a whole encourages repression than being true to yourself does make you a philosophical outsider, Himiko is an extreme example but it’s true as a whole.

Just like Shigaraki’s struggles the rejection of society telling him what he is supposed to accept and believe can be read as nihilism, then Himiko’s can be read as existentialism.

Well, to an extent. On the surface Himiko seems to be nothing more than a hedonist. Which would be the exact opposite of Shigaraki’s assertion that nothing in this world has any value. If she was strictly a hedonist, then to Himiko everything that gives her pleasure would have value. That value comes from the fact it gives her pleasure.

Hedonism is a school of thought that argues that the pursuit of pleasure and intrinsic goods are the primary or most important goals of human life.A hedonist strives to maximize net pleasure (pleasure minus pain). However upon finally gaining said pleasure, happiness may remain stationary.

Himiko’s guidance system is similar to this at least, she defines things as good or bad based on her own personal likes and dislikes. If something makes her feel good then it is good.

While everything she dislikes is bad. For Himiko, there’s no value beyond that personal judgement. She only stays with the league because being around them makes her feel good.

However, to step away from hedonism Himiko is willing to do things that will cause her discomfort. We even see her breaking her own rules of not doing the things she dislikes when it is necessary.

Himiko is literally all about chasing momentary pleasures and avoiding any kind of pain and consequence to her actions, so the fact that she was willing to say “We have to endure pain for now” is the exact opposite of her usual philosophy and shows she’s capable of much more than that. Which is why, Himiko may have desires that run deeper than her shallow, surface desires that she’s so open about.

Himiko values things like trust, friendship, and cooperating which are human values and yet she seems so different from them. In her moments of desperation Himiko seems to be wishing to become someone like Ochacho who is like, the definition of a good, boring, normal girl that Himiko seemed to despise being so much. That, she in a way, her own weird little way, wants to become more human too and to have more of her own identity even if that means stealing it from others. Which would make Himiko’s narrative an existentialist one rather than simply a hedonist one.

Nihilism and Existentialism as philosophies go hand in hand. In order to discover yourself you have to reject the way society and others see you and try to find your own values. Shigaraki and Himiko are also both outsiders, who see through the others around them.

Himiko is fantastic at reading other people at least on a surface level, and knows how to push buttons to get people to like her, and it’s implied her methods of acting cute are just that an act to get people to be kinder, and lower their suspicions.

Shigaraki was so intelligent at reading the crowds that he could tell that Stain was getting sympathy from people who never really cared that much about his ideals, just the idea of him.

They both have this clarity when it comes to reading other people because they reject the ideals of the others around them. They observe from an outside point of view. Both Shigaraki and Himiko are capable of seeing through the hypocrisies not only in society, but the other people around them. Though, their reasons are different and their origins are different.

Shigaraki was raised entirely outside of society, so much so that he has no memories of the time that he was ever a part of society, or the family he once had. The only thing he has to base his identity around was what was given to him by All for One.

Himiko was born to a rich family, and as far as we know no circumstances destroyed her life like they did Shigaraki’s. Himiko is also not the descendant of anybody special, it just so happened she was born with a weird quirk. Yet, despite coming from a proper family home and a proper upbringing, both her and Shigaraki end up in the same place as outsiders.

However, Camus argued that even though existentialism requires acknowledging that life is fundamentally absurd and meaningless and we must live our lives acknowledging this fact instead of accepting the values that others tell us, that does not mean all we can feel is empty disdain for life and everything in it like Shigaraki does. Shigaraki is right to reject the values of others, but his growth is still stunted, he hasn’t gotten past the phase of reckless rejection. He doesn’t want to do anything constructive he only wants to be destructive.

That is why Himiko’s philosophy is complementary to Shigaraki’s. Himiko also sees through everything, but because she sees it as absurd she searches for something to enjoy about life. Which is what Shigaraki needs to eventually learn to do, but Shigaraki sees himself as fundamentally capable of ever doing, or growing past that traumatized child who was saved by All for One.

Camus resists utter hopelessness or nihilism. He argues that we have to live with the knowledge that our efforts will be futile, our memory will disappear, and our species irredeemably corrupt and violent and that we should endure nonetheless. We are like sisyphus the greek figure ordained by the gods to continually push the boulder up the hill, only for it to fall back down again. That, even in the face of that we must try to cope. Shigaraki is anti-coping and anti-comfort, while Himiko seeks comfort. She seeks happiness and normalcy, even though she understands the fact that there is no such thing as a ‘normal life’.

“One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

3. Heroes and Villains

Shigaraki and Himiko are complementary characters and foils to one another who are meant to be side by side with one another. As the plot progresses they only grow closer to each other. Even in their roles to the story as antagonists, they are both foils to the respective hero and heroine.

Shigaraki is the foil of Deku. They were both mentored by previous generations on opposite sides of the conflict, Shigaraki by All for One, and Deku by All Might who has the quirk One for All. They both wear trademark red shoes. The story is primarily about their growth, Deku’s growth as a hero, and Shigaraki’s growth as a villain.

Shigaraki when confused about his own motivations and why people will not come to understand him and sympathize with him the same way that they do with Stain. He specifically seeks out Deku his opposite and foil, and tries to get the other to understand him. They both agree that the central philosophy about their characters both orbits around the same thing, in this case All Might.

Himiko in the exact same way seeks out Ochaco and shares her feelings with the girl, as a way of trying to understand herself. Both of them have the same primary motivator, that is feelings love for others, but also wanting to become more like the people they love because they find themselves insufficient.

They are also both the cheerful and bubbly girl of the group. They are both friendly to almost everyone they meet. They both seem to always be cheerful but at the same time are deeply observant of others. They both want to become heroes/villains for reasons that are more self involved instead of believing in a greater cause like justice. Himiko comes from a rich family and ran away from home, Ochaco comes from a poor family and left home to help support her parents financially.

Ochacho’s most important relationship is her relationship with Deku. They are seen as a pair helping one another grow. Therefore it stands to reason as their foils, Shigaraki and Himiko are also a pair that help one another grow on the villainous side of things.

This is not to say Himiko’s sole motivation rests on a man, but rather Shigaraki and Himiko can be seen as complementary characters responsible for each other’s growth. As Shigraki has the restraint that Himiko lacks, and Himiko the enjoyment of life that Shigaraki lacks. Even their attitudes are complete inversions.

Shigaraki is cold, aloof and distant with his attitude to everyone. He seems intellectual and analytical, yet at the same time internally just like Himiko he tends to be motivated by childish emotional fits, and also his desire to understand himself and others around him. Seen as when he threw a temper tantrum because Stain got more attention than he did. As logical as he seems, he has a tendency to lose himself to his own emotions. He can go into a trance of raw emotion in the same way that Himiko does.

Himiko is always pleasant and always smiling all the time. She seems to run purely on emotions and never put any thought into her actions besides which whim to follow next. She seems like someone enjoying her life to its fullest. Yet inside of herself. Yet, when someone gets in the way of Himiko chasing her desires her reaction is not to go into a frenzy like Shigaraki, but rather to suddenly go cold and start acting logically. She is shown capable after all of explaining to Jin when he’s losing his mind, that they have to put aside their own personal feelings in the short term because it was the only way to get what they want in the long term. Himiko seems like an impulsive idiot, but she’s also a capable reconnaissance and field agent that’s entirely capable of acting on her own in the best interest of the league and calling those shots herself.

Himiko has also been shown to desire the same kind of connection that Uraraka has with Deku. Rather, she has grown to desire that. This marks a change, because usually Himiko does not care at all about the recipient of her feelings. She only cares about expressing her own love, and not being loved in return. However, she’s shown to specifically notice how Deku trusts her and values her as an individual. That they have a mutual connection rather than a one sided one.

Which hints Himiko’s desires may have changed from simply chasing crushes to wanting someone mutual. The current Himiko may not see other people as people, but to have mutual feelings she would have to see them as people. She has to at least acknowledge one other person as an individual with feelings that matter besides her own, in order to be able to receive those feelings.

4. Himiko’s Ideal Man

That being said, Himiko has been shown repeatedly to have a specific type that she’s attracted to.

Her first victim is shown to be a boy resembling Deku. She later finds Deku and Stain both cute because they are people who are covered in blood. This preference is obviously related to her quirk, but it also might be related to her suppression.

Himiko was taught her natural attraction to blood was abhorrent and deviant. The only way anyone ever tried to teach her to deal with her feelings were repression. Therefore, she repressed, and repressed. Being covered in blood is the opposite of repression. It’s someone wearing their heart on their sleeve (literally because they’re bleeding all over it) the same violence and bloodshed that she was taught to repress. If anything I would say she falls in love with that expression of their repressed violent sides because that is what Himiko wants to be. The opposite of what she was told to be. Expressed, instead of repressed.

Stain, and Deku are also people who fight to be unflinchingly true to their own ideals. That is they fight to remain themselves. That’s why they’re always getting covered in blood. Himiko wants to be able to be herself, to her that’s the most important thing. Ochaco suppresses herself, but Himiko loves the fact that Ochaco is loved and valued by Deku just for being Ochaco.

Himiko’s also shown to have stuck with the league for a long time, despite the fact that she’s one prone to running away to chase impuslive desires, and two the league has almost nothing to do with Stain anymore.

Himiko even says her reason for staying is that the league makes her feel good. The League is the reason that she’s stayed in one place for the longest time in her life.

Shigaraki is obviously someone who fits Himiko’s description about what she likes in men to a T. His style is always to charge straight into a fight, even if it results in his body getting broken and hurt. He practically walks around with a bleeding wound on his chest his emotions are so raw. We always see him get covered in blood and keep going in his own fights. Despite Shigaraki meeting that criteria of person, we don’t see Himiko ever obsess over him the same way that she does with Stain, or Deku to the point where she stops seeing them as a person.

It’s probably for a simple reason, if Himiko became Shigaraki, that is murdered him and took his place, then she would no longer have Shigaraki the individual there as a presence in her life.

5. Himiko’s Changing Feelings

Himiko appears as someone who does not see, or understand the feelings of other people at all. She has no regard for them and doesn’t even understand them as people. I don’t think Destro’s assessment of her is inaccurate, she clearly observes people and mimics their behaviors on a surface level and can even deduce their reasons behind their actions and yet does not see them as people fully independent from her with her own thoughts and feelings. And this method of observing others, without acknowledging their separate individual exist prevents her from being able to connect with them. Even though she knows that people are capable of forming connections with each other in an intellectual sense.

However, Himiko’s feelings towards others may also be changing and developing in the same way that Shigaraki’s feelings have. Himiko states that she wants to “become” other people, and that there is some truth to what she’s saying that it’s natural to want to emulate the person you admire. Her impetus for change has always been the other people around her. However, as long as she does not see other people as people she will frustratingly never be able to get too close to them.

Himiko is someone who only thinks about her own values, and her own happiness, and yet we have seen her acting for the sake of someone else.

Himiko wandered away and yet kept Tomura in mind, doing something beneficial to help him. In the same chapter we see official art drawn of Shigaraki sitting on the chair adorned by hands, the symbols of him chaining himself up while Himiko cuts the red curtains in front of them letting light pour on him a symbol of her freedom. Once again, their opposite natures could be beneficial to one another as Himiko could ultimately be a person freeing for Shigaraki to be around.

When Himiko tells Shigaraki point blank that she does not want to do anything that would make her uncomfrotable or anything she finds personally unpleasant, Shigaraki shows her his first ever smile in the series. In Himiko (And Twice’s) eyes he does not look like a monster, but rather a young man earnestly smiling at them as he speaks his true feelings. That is not only did Shigaraki show his first smile to Himiko of all people because she needed him to speak his true feelings to understand his intentions, but also Himiko agreed to do something she did not like, not for the sake of herself but for someone other than her.

While Shigaraki is not someone that Himiko understands quite yet, she’s also someone whose feelings she accepts.

That is why, for Shigaraki’s sake Himiko who chases only pleasure does some rather unpleasant things.

She infiltrates the Yakuza and follows their orders

The league is the longest time she’s stayed in one place.

Himiko, who is defined as impatient and impulsive has spent the better part of a month literally chasing a giant man down a mountain and barely sleeping or eating so she can keep fighting him in shifts. Literally, nothing at all about that is pleasant.

Himiko is the most impulsive and stab happy member of the group, and paradoxically she’s also the most loyal and listens and trusts Shigaraki. Himiko even listens to Shigaraki when he tells her not to stab, which is her literal favorite thing to do.

Himiko is sociable and free. Shigaraki is restrained, but capable of holding his emotions back and making decisions that are best for the group. Himiko likes getting along with others and values others but does not see them as people. However, due to the league but Shigaraki and Himiko have learned the values of their teammates around them.

They both remind each other that other people besides themselves exist. Shigaraki even puts a hold on his plans to destroy everything, because Himiko reminds him that she still wants to enjoy the things she loves. Shigaraki only looks at the pains of life, and Himiko only looks at the pleasures, but they sort of need to understand each other to become more well balanced people.

Himiko accepts Shigaraki despite not understanding him. Shigaraki is the reason that himiko found a home where she could be her unrepressed self and be accepted, as the league all bands together around Shigaraki. Himiko claims she does everything she does in order to get close to a vague and unspecific “someone”. Who originally seemed completely interchangable to her. It could be Stain, it could be Deku, it could be Uraraka. They were all just immature crushes, meant for feeling the feeling of love rather than caring about the feelings of the person she loved.

However, that unspecific someone may have evolved into feelings for an actual person that Himiko has no realized yet, and a desire to be able to connect with them and share the same emotions, and a struggle because she genuinely does not know how to connect.

Himiko has this broken paradox about her where she wants to not deny a single part of herself, and be the monster that other people see as her indulging it all the while. Which requires her to not care about the opinions of other people at all. While at the same time she still cannot deny her very human desires, the desire to connect, the desire to be loved, and because she cannot stop being human so far she has only taken half measures and made broken and bloody attempts to connect rather than opening her eyes to look at others. It was an immature way of connecting.

That her desires have matured from chasing crushes, to wanting to be loved in the exact same way that Ochaco is loved. That is trusted, and relied upon as a person. She even says explicitly, that she’s lucky because Deku trusts her. Himiko’s actions when they are for someone else, have always been to become someone Tomura can rely on and is one of his most trusted people.

When she says she wants to become more like the people she loves, she imagines herself as someone lovable, someone who has earned the trust of another peson, a good girl completely unlike her Ochaco and wears it as her own. However, Himiko cannot become that person and half of the face melts away revealing that she will always still be Himiko underneath.

At the end though, while her face is still revealed unconsciously she imitates Shigaraki, both in motivation and in pose. He’s the last thing she thinks of before she starts thinking of the feeling of wanting to get closer to others again. Himiko’s one true desire that there is someone who might love her and trust her as herself, and not as a good girl like Ochaco revealed only by slipping out indirectly in the her last true moments of consciousness. Likely, because Himiko is probably yet still unaware that her own desires have changed this much.

Her feelings are maturing, and she has become capable of seeing at least one other person besides herself as an individual. Thus in turn her feelings grow as well as she wants this feeling to be reciprocated and the other party to see her as an individual too.

That she, who is literally so malleable that she can literally become anybody, might just want someone to love her for being herself.

Himiko and Shigaraki as different as they seem like night and day, both have the same deep desires. They both want to become individuals. They are both on journeys of existential self discovery outside of the boundaries of society, and both of them capable of change. Meeting each other, working together, has only sparked this change in each of them. Shigaraki had to grow and show his true face to her, to earn her trust and cooperation. Himiko had to grow and become someone capable of thinking of others so she could be trusted by him. Love and hate are not opposites, they are complementary forces that are meant to help each other.

#shigaraki tomura #toga himiko #shigatoga #meta #mha meta #my hero academia meta #my villain academia #shigaraki meta #himiko meta

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kid-az · 10 months ago

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Okay gonna explain my reasonings now 👍

Sunny, the Hanged Man: The major theme of the Hanged Man as a tarot card is self-sacrifice for a greater wisdom. It can also represent altruism and self-denial. All three of these things are associated with Sunny, how he will end up possibly losing an eye in the true ending but, in exchange, saving Basil’s life, revealing the truth, and being able to begin his own self-forgiveness.

In the Persona series, having the Hanged Man arcana is often associated with being trapped between two metaphorical (And sometimes literal) worlds, a thing that Sunny also experiences through his attempts to cope through Mari’s death via Headspace, even though it is a self-destructive cycle that can possibly destroy his irl one.

Kel, the Sun: It’s pretty obvious why he’s the Sun tarot, given that it represents happiness and the positive outcomes to current struggles. Kel has been able to cope through Mari’s death the best, doing his best to reconnect with his friends however difficult it may be.

In the Persona series, to be of the Sun arcana is to deal with severely terrible situations, and to move past their tragedies in the best way they can. As stated previously, Kel was able to cope through Mari;s death the best.

Aubrey, the Devil: To be of the Devil is to be a slave to your feelings and impulses, preventing you from being the best version of yourself. It is also a deep attachment to people, whether that be in a healthy or unhealthy way.

Aubrey has been unable to healthily cope through Mari’s death due to her feelings of resentment and anger, as well as her home situation. This drives her to hold a deep anger towards Basil, seeing all the memories she has held an attachment to being tarnished.

However, to be of the Devil tarot can also mean having a Healthy attachment to people. In the end, Aubrey is a deeply caring person, being genuine good friends with the Hooligans as well as reconnecting with her old friends.

To be honest, idk how she relates to the Devil Arcana in Persona, given the characters associated with it are wealthy scammers, a creepy nurse, and an alcoholic paparazzi.

Basil, the Tower: To be of the Tower tarot is to deal with sudden, disruptive changes, and hooo boy does Basil deal with that a lot! From getting a first-person view of one of his friend’s corpse, to his grandma passing away, from Sunny moving away soon, Basil just cannot seem to catch his breath.

To be of the Tower arcana is also to represent and upcoming disaster, this disaster for Basil being a complete mental breakdown on his part and deciding to commit suicide. The Tower tarot is often considered the worst card of the deck, as a it rarely has a positive meaning, but that doesn’t make the person who has it bad.

And yet, there can be a positive meaning for the card, as that same disruptive change can create a stronger foundation and structure. Basil may finally be able to learn his own self-forgiveness, be able to recconect with his friends truly and finally make new, happy memories with them… memories that can possibly be happier than the old ones.

This is something shared with the Persona series, but this section is already long enough haha.

Hero, the Death: Outside of Sunny, Hero is the one most deeply affected by Mari’s death, having become a shut-in like her little brother for around two years before Kel could snap him out of it. Although it can represent the dead, the Death arcana also represents a change of thinking from the old and new. This is something shared with the tarot card and the death arcana of Persona.

This change comes in the form of Hero being able to try and better himself from Mari’s death, going to college and studying to become a doctor and doing his best to rebuild his friendships with everyone. To be of the Death arcana is often the end of an old life… and the beginning of a new one.

Mari, the Judgement: To be of the Judgement arcana is to reach an absolution, to gain a new spiritual awakening. In a way, this arcana is shared with all of the friend group, but Mari is associated with the Judgement tarot due to her being that absolution, to be that spiritual awakening for others to begin anew with their life despite her being gone from the world.

In the Persona series, being of the Judgement Arcana is to be intelligent, self-aware, and view the world with infinite possibilities. Although whether her existence as a ghost is vague, Mari does seem to be aware of her mistakes in her mortal life, and wants for her loved ones to be able to forgive themselves despite, or Inspite, of what they might’ve done.

I hope you all enjoyed reading this post, I enjoyed reading about the tarot cards and how they relate to my blorbos.

Was thinking about what Arcana’s the Omori characters would represent

And here’s what I have so far

Sunny/Omori: Hanged Man

Mari: Judgement

Kel: Sun

Hero: Death

Aubrey: Devil

Basil: Tower

This is based both on both the conventional tarot cards and the arcana's of Persona.

I’ll explain later why each of them have their respective arcana’s in a reblog tomorrow. Though you ppl can give me asks and guesses on what they mean in the ask box or notes.

#omori #omori sunny #omori mari #omori kel #omori hero #omori basil #omori aubrey #omori crossover #tarot cards #arcana #persona #omori spoilers

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irinapaleolog · 5 years ago

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As we head toward the conclusion of the Skywalker saga with Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker’s Dec. 20 release, one of the big unresolved questions is the fate of Kylo Ren (Adam Driver). Will he, like his grandfather before him, redeem himself and resume his former identity as Ben Solo? Or will he, mask newly reformed, remain on the Dark Side to be defeated by Rey (Daisy Ridley) and the rest of the Resistance?

For such a major character in the series, Kylo remains somewhat mysterious, masked or not. When his parentage was first revealed in The Force Awakens, the biggest question was how exactly did Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) and Han Solo (Harrison Ford), our heroes of the Rebellion, wind up with this petulant mini-Vader as a son? We saw that Kylo idolized his grandfather but had none of his cool-tempered menace, hacking away at ship consoles with such abandon that you wondered if the First Order had a permanent Kylo Ren repair line in the budget. At first, his brattiness seemed almost comical until he killed his father in a mistaken attempt to drown the light in himself. For anyone who ever thought Leia and Han would be cool parents — and that certainly includes the parentally neglected Rey — Kylo’s presence was a bit of a head-scratcher. How exactly did the former Ben Solo turn into this destructive and emotionally turbocharged Dark Sider?

The Last Jedi went a bit further in explaining Ben’s turn to Ren as his uncle, the legendary Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill), revealed that one fateful night a terrifying Force vision got the best of him and sent his nephew hurtling down toward the Dark Side. It was this betrayal that haunted Kylo and left him both vulnerable and achingly lonely as his Force bond with Rey revealed. And despite the murder of his father, he still remained conflicted and couldn’t do the same to his mother when he had the chance, her love for him staying his hand. Even though he refused to rejoin Rey on the Light Side, Kylo turned out to be far more complicated than he initially seemed when he descended as the masked and hooded villain in The Force Awakens.

While the films have sketched the broad outlines of Ben’s fall and Driver has done fantastic work in suggesting the turmoil roiling under Kylo’s mask, there is a lot more we’ve learned about Ben Solo/Kylo Ren’s past from the various novels and comic books that make up the current Star Wars canon. If you are not familiar with them, read ahead to get a fuller picture of the character and what his past may portend for his future.

In Chuck Wendig’s Aftermath trilogy, which takes place in the year after the Battle of Endor, we discover that not only are Han and Leia now married, but that Leia is already pregnant with Ben. While we saw that Leia definitely had Force powers in The Last Jedi, it’s during her pregnancy that she really starts to explore her abilities. She can feel Ben’s Force presence in the womb, and that it’s mostly light but shot through with veins of darkness. She worries about that darkness but takes comfort when Luke tells her all people have that. It’s poignant to think how the darkness eventually overwhelmed that child, but the fact that there was so much light to start with shows he can turn back to it if he wants and that the Dark Side was not his destiny, but a choice he made. While the Empire is in its last gasps during Leia’s pregnancy, Ben is born on Chandrila the same day that the Empire formally surrenders and the war ends. In fact, his mother is already in labor as the peace treaty is being signed. Because of his family’s fame, his birth was accompanied by a flood of rumors, everything from being born with a full head of black hair, to a full set of teeth, to Luke attending the birth himself. For a child with so many expectations placed on his tiny shoulders, Ben just seems to be a normal, if somewhat fussy, baby, though one his mother seems much more comfortable tending to than his father.

On that note, Aftermath: Empire’s End, the final book in the trilogy, establishes the difficulty Han has adjusting to fatherhood and how that foreshadows the gap that will grow between father and son despite Han’s deep love for the boy and the boy’s deep love for his father. Han’s usual cocksure confidence is shaken by the helpless baby before him and he feels insecure that he doesn’t have the same Force connection to Ben that Leia has, thinking that’s the only way his son can be soothed. Leia, to her credit, thinks that their son just needs to feel his father’s presence to feel comforted.

But Han’s insecurity continues in Last Shot, by Daniel José Older. While the book is mostly about an adventure between Han and Lando in the early years of Han and Leia’s marriage, Ben makes an appearance as a 2-year-old toddler, one that Han is still a little baffled by. Here we see how Han’s restless spirit will eventually cause a problem in his relationship with his son. Ben idolizes his father and “Wanwo” (fingers crossed someone gives Kylo and Uncle Lando a scene in the new movie) and misses his father terribly when he’s gone on his mission. While his mother works to build the New Republic, Ben is in the care of droids and in what might be a key moment for a person with a lifelong abandonment complex, a malfunctioning kitchen droid almost kills him. Ben survives, but Han continues to struggle with being a parent and the responsibilities that come with it.

There isn’t a ton of information about Ben’s late childhood and teenage years, but The Last Jedi novel details that Ben’s epic temper tantrums and growing Force powers left many objects in the Organa-Solo household destroyed. Kylo recalls with bitterness an incident overhearing his frightened parents talk about him as if he was a monster and it’s obvious that his anger became such an issue that Leia felt it necessary to send him to Luke in the hopes that training to be a Jedi would help tame his darker instincts. Neither his parents nor his uncle realized that Snoke had gotten his claws into Ben at some point during this time. As the films and comics like Star Wars: Age of Resistance — Supreme Leader Snoke #1 make clear, Snoke abused and manipulated Kylo for years, twisting the young man’s feelings toward his family and nurturing those resentments until Kylo finally took his revenge upon his Master in the throne room.

We get a little more information about Ben before his fall from the novel Bloodline, by Claudia Gray, which moves the story forward to six years before the events of The Force Awakens. There are no direct scenes with Ben, who is about 23 years old in the book, but he is often on his mother’s mind as she works as a senator living on the not-yet-destroyed Hosnian Prime while Han is off sponsoring various racing championships across the galaxy and running a shipping company. Ben is traveling around the galaxy with Luke, still training to be a Jedi. Han and Leia seem to have a warm marriage but one that is marked by long absences from each other as Leia understands that Han’s restlessness would make him a miserable Senate husband and Leia’s duty to the faltering New Republic comes before even her personal preference to be with her family. The book suggests that Han and Ben have a strained relationship at this point, in that Han does not understand his son and that Ben’s Force abilities have created a wedge between them. Frustrated by not being able to parent their son, both Han and Leia mentor many of the young people in the orbit, a desire we see reflected in the films as Han mentors Rey and Finn (John Boyega) and Leia treats Poe (Oscar Isaac) as almost a surrogate son, the three seeming more like their spiritual children than their actual son.

Though Ben does not appear in the novel, the book contains a key event that dramatically shapes his life to come. Over the course of the novel, we learn that no one outside of Leia, Luke, and Han ever learned that Darth Vader was Anakin Skywalker and also the true birth father of Luke and Leia. While Luke had witnessed Anakin’s redemption personally, Leia did not, and to her, Vader remained the monster that tortured her and helped destroy her beloved Alderaan. She had kept the secret that Vader was her father for decades and was still coming to terms with her true parentage, never finding the right time to tell Ben who his grandfather really was. Unfortunately, the knowledge fell into the hands of a political rival who outed her to the whole Senate before she had time to tell Ben first. We don’t learn what Ben’s immediate reaction to this news was, but considering he must have learned this information shortly before his turn to the Dark Side, it must have cracked the already shaky trust in his family that Snoke had help splinter, a trust that would be completely shattered by that fateful night with Luke in his hut.

Looking over these parts of his past, Kylo just didn’t inherit great Force power and Leia’s fabulous hair from his powerful bloodline but everything else that went with it, good and bad. That meant Han and Leia’s mutual hotheadness, Luke’s impulsiveness, Anakin’s brattiness, and Padme’s penchant for falling for the wrong people — though that last one might wind up saving him in the end depending on how his complicated relationship with Rey works out.

As we move closer to The Rise of Skywalker, we will be getting a few more missing pieces to the puzzle when the first issue of The Rise of Kylo Ren, by Charles Soule, is released Dec. 18. Though the project has been mostly kept under wraps, one tantalizing cover revealed that Ben Solo and Luke Skywalker actually battled the Knights of Ren at some point, so Ben Solo’s past might be even more complex than we expected.

All this leads back to what will become of the Skywalker heir? Will the Bendemption, as some fans have taken to calling it, actually happen? Will Rey’s vision of Ben’s future, that solid and clear picture that convinced her he would turn back to the light, finally come to pass? And if he does turn back, what will be the trigger? Repentance? His mother’s love? His own? Although it would be quite bold to leave Kylo on the Dark Side, it does seem unlikely that a saga that deals so much about redemption would end on a sour note and leave the once and maybe future Ben Solo unredeemed. Let’s hope the Skywalker saga gets a happier ending than that and that this tortured figure finally turns back to the light.

#the rise of skywalker #kylo ren #star wars #leia organa #han solo #luke skywalker

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inked-iwtfw · 6 years ago

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Inked - Stylishmuser

We all know how hard it is to find new writers on tumblr (let’s face it, it’s hard to do anything on tumblr these days), and that sometimes means talent gets buried. So, as two writers, we wanted to do something to highlight the wonderful talent the Harry Styles fandom has.

If you’d like to take part, or you have a writer you’d like to see get some recognition, fill out this handy form HERE! Please don’t be shy about putting yourself forward, this isn’t a popularity contest, this is about you and your writing being found. We’re also on Wattpad so if you have an author on there you’d like us to talk to, feel free to suggest them.

Here’s a shameless plug for our work!

@harrystylesgotmefuckedup : Masterlist

@imnottherealharrystyles : Masterlist

and be sure to also follow @huccimermaidshirts if you don’t already!

Love, Mo, Van, and Elena x

Our next talented author is the lovely @stylishmuser!

Find her writing here: Tumblr | Wattpad

When did you start writing? Who inspired you to give writing a go? I first started writing in 2013! It’s kind of weird how it started, actually. I was put in an AP English class against my will and every week we had to write a 1000 word essay about whatever we read that week. It was around the same time I finished ‘Gossip Girl’ and I started discovering what fanfic was. I got really mad about how the series ended so I decided to write my own ending for Nate’s story! I originally only shared it one friend, a guy, and he told me it was so good. Encouraged me to publish it, and I did!

Tell us your 1D/Harry origin story. I’m one of the fans that got into them after hiatus and have been suffering ever since! I actually had a Harry Potter fanfic blog, and I got curious about this other Harry so I started reading some fic, listening to more 1d. And then one day I realized I wanted to try something new and I made a 1d sideblog. Eventually I delete the hp blog and it wasn’t long before I started wanting to write for Niall too and was a full fledged Narrie.

Tell us why Harry is your muse. AH well that’s a very tricky question. Obviously, he’s very attractive but as I started getting more into him and 1d in general, I realized he’s one of the kindest guys I’ve ever come across. Which, I guess, is strange because we don’t really know him, do we? I think what makes Harry so fun to have as a muse is you can write him into any situation because his personality is so concrete across the fandom.

Do you tell people you write fanfic? Do you tell people you write at all? I do, yeah. I don’t tell them for who or what the fic is really about, at least not to people I’m not close to. I don’t really suffer from the societal “shame” that comes with fanfic. I’m proud of what I do and I obviously don’t pass out links in real life but I’m not afraid to defend my writing and fanfic in general. All the important people in my life are supportive so I’m lucky!

Do you have a writing playlist, or do you need complete silence to write? I don’t have a playlist! But I do listen to music from time to time. I listen to the same song on repeat usually cause it’s like background music and doesn’t distract me.

What’s your favourite thing you've ever written. Oh man.. hm… okay for Niall I really liked the blurb “Something More” and Harry definitely “Timeless.”

What's your favourite thing you've ever read? Fanfic and non-fanfic? I think my all time favorite fic is “Little do you know” by nightingiall. Book wise, my favorites are “The Light of Paris” and “Still Me.”

Do you tend to stick to one genre, or do you like to change things up a little? Hmm I guess romance would be an overarching genre to all my stories, but I’m trying to do more AU’s. They’re challenging, but really fun!

Do you have a fixed plan of what you're going to write, or do you just see where the story takes you? Oh god no I always have a tedious outline, down to the pieces of dialogue I want in that chapter. In some cases I have just a general idea of what happens and then I flush it out once I get there, but most times I known exactly what I need to write.

Is there a schedule you follow in terms of when you write? Or are you more impulsive and just write where and when you can? For my chaptered stories, yes. I upload every Friday and then write on the weekend. I think when I write blurbs and drabbles I’m more impulsive.

Are your stories driven by plot or character? Both work together, I think. The characters are flawed and that makes the plot move on and whatever the plot throws at the characters makes them transform.

Some readers are wary of leaving feedback because they're unsure how the writer will take it, how do you personally like to receive feedback? Do you want to be critiqued, or would you like to just know if they did or didn't enjoy what they've read?

I think, personally, if I didn’t receive the feedback I do then I would’ve deleted my stories a long time ago. The thing about feedback on tumblr is that it comes in two forms: asks & notes. Some, if not most, writers get one or the other. I consider myself really lucky to have readers that not only want to read each week but take the time to message me their thoughts. As far as what the feedback is, I think it depends on how people read. It’s always nice to hear what people liked, or what made them curious, but I’m not against constructive criticism given the right way. If it’s telling an author they don’t like the character, etc, or yelling for an update — not here for it. I had someone once tell me Rhea was spineless (like 4 chapters into the book) and it rubbed me the wrong way. If you read on, you know she isn’t! So I guess what I’m trying to say is, if that person would’ve phrased it differently like - “Rhea bothers me because ___” then it would’ve been constructive rather than destructive. It’s all about how you word things!!!! (I rambled on this one, sorry!)

Do you use a beta? If so, feel free to give them a shout out! How do they help you? Absolutely! I use a different beta for every story cause I like to see what they suggest. Some betas read, some betas suggest, and some do both! They’re genius at helping me figure out minor plot holes. Some of my lovely betas are: @thatoddpanda, @yeahmynameissushi, @fireawaynjh, @harrysdodgyankles, @roseonhissleeve, @irish-nlessing

Is writing a hobby or do you have aspirations of writing professionally outside of fanfiction? I would love to publish books one day! I write for work, non-fiction, but my heart resides in fiction.

Do you post your writing in other places? Where do you you find to be the best place for your work? Yes,wattpad! I like tumblr for feedback and visual content, but I like wattpad because you get concrete numbers on stats and have in line comments!

Favorite writing trope? Enemies to lovers & friends to lovers! I can’t pick.

AU or OU? I’m going to say BOTH but with a strong inclination towards OU.

Preferred types of writing: Blurbs, short stories, or full fics? Full fics. I used to write blurbs all the time but now… it’s just so nice to dig your heels into a full storyline and really develop characters!

Do you draw anything from your personal life? What inspires your subject matter? Not heavily, but yeah. It’s subtle things. Like a character’s favorite cereal, or what kind of pens they prefer to use. Rhea’s family story was reminiscent of mine in some ways. I would say my Indian culture kind of has a big play in my stories too.

What's your purpose for writing? What do you hope to accomplish? I like to write because I like to create worlds where I get things I don’t in my own life. It’s the perfect combination of escape and want. I want to keep challenging myself and keep writing until I die, lol.

And finally, do you have any advice/tips for your fellow fanfic writers? Yes! I think, it’s very easy to get caught up in the validation aspect. It’s natural, and it’s something I still go through, but I’ve learned that enjoying what YOU do is really the key to writing. I would say don’t stop doing what you love no matter what people think of it. Don’t get caught up in the accolades and the humdrum and just keep doing you. It’s hard on tumblr, but sometimes the validation we crave comes when we least expect it. Write for you, not anyone else. And most of all… have fun, because that’s kind of why we all started writing right? To have a fun escape. Tell your authors you love their fics! And finally, don’t feel scared. Reach out to other writers, writers you admire! It’s a community that can seem very cliquey, but it doesn’t have to be that way. People are always willing to help in my experience (me included).

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #fanfiction #writers #stylishmuser #one direction fanfiction #niall horan #fan fiction #one direction #interview #author interview

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sparda3g · 5 years ago

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My Hero Academia Chapter 237 Review

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It’s the end of Tenko’s origin. Now, it’s time for Shigaraki’s. It is brief in compare, but it completes the character’s backstory. Part of me wished it went on a little longer, but the present cannot pause for so long. It’s a simple but effective chapter to illustrate the rise of the villain that will continue to soar for total destruction.

The darkest time has come and gone. I wonder if the neighbors even heard the chaos outside of their yard. Curiosity aside, the remaining bit of the known flashback was when All for One recruited Tenko from the alleyway. Prior to that moment, we do see Tenko roaming around the city in a poor manner state, not knowing what to do next. No one didn’t want to get involved however. It reminds me of how citizens in my state usually acts when walking by a homeless person; the bystander effect as they would call it. It’s natural in a sense, even if it does sound rather sad.

The only one who tried was an elder lady, but Tenko’s appearance was disturbing enough to scare her away. At least it didn’t try to illustrate the citizens as complete cold-hearted fools, though I guess this would make him edgier. It’s not their fault entirely; life is cruel in many form, including the righteous belief. You can say he’s the victim of bad timing. Unlike in other series, where a person legitimately lived in a harsh environment and the only way to survive is to adapt it, he was begging for help, but no luck. All for One was the first one to give him the wish he was hoping for.

The itchiness has been the theme to his character. As funny as it sounds, it basically means urges and it keeps recurring like a drug. The scene skipped the moment where Tenko recalled his action, judging by the panel with All for One and the Doctor to get to the moment where Shigaraki was put into a test. What better way to do so than dealing with thugs. He gets beaten up, but no action. The idea was to unleash the overflowing impulses inside of him; in other words, destruction.

All for One taught him the selfish lifestyle; ignoring ethics and morals to satisfy his personal needs. Tenko quickly adapts it and accepts the desire in him: to kill those thugs. I suppose since he had kill his family already, this quick change was more or less expected. I do like the scene where he returned to confront the thugs, only now as Shigaraki with those hands attached on him. It’s the sight of a newborn evil. It has that horror film vibe of creepiness. He killed the thugs in which greatly satisfied All for One. Funny how there’s a pool of blood yet no body parts. I guess he’s getting better at decaying? Regardless, this is the path to become a symbol of fear.

The parallel remain strong with the use of symbolism; peace and fear. One thing I got from this is these two are anti-social to the core. It’s no surprise, though that would mean Tenko has no other depth than destruction. So long he feels at peace from destroying, he will be “alright.” Plus, the thought of his father only fuels him. It will vary for some fans, whether they want an edgelord as the main villain or not. Personally, I will wait until the overall experience to judge. Bottom line, the day of good versus evil in the present will erupt soon.

While the chapter was straightforward on Tenko’s conversion process, the most noteworthy piece to me is the new name. He was reborn as Tomura Shigaraki. The term “Tomura” basically described his character in the nutshell; the sadness that comes with death and parting. That’s a nice symbolic name. The real attraction is the term “Shigaraki.” It’s All for One’s last name. He wasn’t kidding when he said he wanted a new heir to the throne, figuratively speaking. I don’t recall but does anyone know Shigaraki’s name in the hero faction? I assume no one knows the origin.

It’s back to the present time. Judging by the end, it appears that the battle may conclude in the next chapter. It is worth mentioning that there’s a holiday break the week after the next. But if we’re only basing on the content, there are few indications. Gigantomachia is heading towards Shigaraki. Redestro is in his final form, I assume. Trumpet bail to help, which I find it funny. Tough luck, Spinner. It looks like Geten will leave to back up. At last, Shigaraki destroys his father’s hand; ready to destroy.

I can be wrong on the assumption, of course. Now, if I’m right, what should I expect? This could be a good time to either make Gigantomachia really strong by defeating all henchmen or make Shigaraki as a credible villain by defeating everyone, including Redestro. Since his memories have restored, why not demonstrate it by taking out everyone. Taking out the leader is good enough though, so it’s probably not that necessary. As for the Meta Liberation Army, well, maybe in fanfiction, they will be treated better.

This was a good chapter. The backstory was overall solid. I don’t know how much it has changed moving forward, considering he went from destruction to more destruction. One user’s post I read did bring a good point on his disappointment, but like I said earlier, I will wait and see the overall performance before making any judgment. Even so, the content was intriguing to see how Shigaraki has fallen. The war that felt long yet not looks ready to conclude. We’ll see if Shigaraki can prove his worth.

#boku no hero academia #my hero academia #chapter 237 #review #spoilers

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hnrywinchester · 6 years ago

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Fare Thee Well - - Chapter 15

Summary: She hasn’t seen Gabriel since he died nine years ago, then a phone call changes everything.

Pairing: Gabriel x OFC

Series Warnings: ANGST, smut, swearing, PTSD Gabriel, Character Deaths, Canon Compliant

Beta’d by: @aquietuniverse

Words: 5.5k

The drive was tense; Liv sat in the passenger seat, her fingers wrapped tightly around Gabriel’s, squeezing them as if he’d be gone the moment she let him go. It wasn’t the destination she was concerned about, at this point nabbing Lucifer seemed like a walk in the park. No, it was what was coming afterwards that had her stomach in knots and her lungs rejecting oxygen like she was allergic to air itself. In a few hours time, she was going to have to have to watch him walk away — again. There was nothing she could do to mentally prepare for this, she’d tried everything. Every second she was here again with him, letting him leave seemed more and more impossible. “You need to calm down,” Gabriel instructed, soft yet firm, “I can’t do what I need to do if I’m more worried about you.” She knew he was right, but that didn’t stop her sharp tongue from lashing out. “Well maybe you shouldn’t sideline me and run off into another dimension after barely two days-“ she spat, her voice dripping with venom. “I did not sideline you. I asked you and you made the decision-“ he defended, keeping his voice calm. “Like I was going to say no! Come on, Gabriel, you knew exactly what you were doing.” “If I was adamant about you staying behind, I wouldn’t ask, Liv. Did you forget I can barricade you in a room halfway across the world with a snap of my fingers?” “Not right now you can’t…” “Oh, that’s low.” Guilt seeped into her chest as she pulled her hand from his in favor of crossing her arms over her chest. This wasn’t how she planned on their final hours of peace going, but right now her emotions were out of control and he was the only thing around to take them out on. He knew, of course; he’d been her verbal punching bag on a few occasions so he’d been expecting it. She’d been way too easy to convince, her true nature had to come out at some point, no matter how hard she was trying to behave for his sake. “I’m sorry…” she mumbled, saying it only because she knew she had to, her anger still burning. “I know,” he responded, hearing the insincerity, “go ahead and be mad but get it all out now, ‘cause you won’t have the chance again here soon.” “Oh, you’re an asshole! I thought you wanted me to ‘calm down’.” Her tone was heavy with sarcasm as she mocked him, head dancing theatrically as she glared at him. He had half a mind to pull the car over and throw her into the backseat, let her take out her frustrations in his favorite kind of way, but life didn’t always go how he wanted it to. Her ears and cheeks were glowing red and he immediately regretted his own quick retort. His nerves were getting the better of him just like hers were. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, reaching across the seat and resting his hand on her thigh, “I don’t like it as much as you don’t. Maybe more.” “Always have to be one step above…” she grumbled beneath her breath and he rolled his eyes. “Says the one who always needs the last word.” It took all of her self control not to hurl forward and slam her fist into the dash. She was livid, at him, at this impossible situation, at the Winchesters for forcing their hands and at her own brain for constantly thinking that everything was a fight. She was well aware of her issues, but that didn’t mean she’d ever done anything to remedy them. Besides going out and finding some kind of monster to kill. Maybe a life of retirement wasn’t going to settle well now that she was thinking about it. His hand was still warm on her leg; at times she hated how he still loved her through everything she put him through. Sometimes she was not kind to him, but he never protested outside of a witty retort now and again. Not about to let him win, she kept her mouth shut. Her tongue practically shook against her teeth as she pushed back the argumentative quips fighting to escape. Slowly, her anger receded as the trees blurred past the windows, and when she’d calmed enough she laced her fingers with his against her thigh, slightly ashamed and guilty. “I feel like shit,” she confessed quietly. “Brain shit or body shit?” he questioned. “Both.” Quickly, his eyes darted over to her and she certainly didn’t hold the same appearance she had just hours before. His thoughts wandered back to her perched on the counter, playing mindless games and laughing at his even more mindless jokes and he wished they were back in that moment. She looked exhausted, it had always been a little fascinating as well as concerning just how quickly her nerves could take over, and how they affected her entire being. He’d been privy to her suffering these past few weeks, which only made him sympathize with her even further, and a little more helpless when it came to consoling her. Now that he knew what it was that she was feeling, he felt like all his previous efforts had never been enough. “Come here,” he beckoned, holding his right arm out to welcome her. “No,” she snapped, her arms returning to their crossed position at the loss of his hand on her. “Please?” Although she played it off as if it was nothing more than giving in to his polite little plea, she was truly relieved to be nestled up against his side. As always, his comforting warmth invaded her senses and calmed her slightly. In the face of her own self-destruction, he would always be the familiar safe space she needed. “It’s gonna be okay, you know that right?” he assured softly, leaning his head down onto hers. “No,” she replied, “and you don’t either.” “Maybe not. But I can pretend. Beats thinking I’m gonna die, that’s for sure. Plus, I’m here, right now, with you. Never thought that was gonna happen again.” He had a point. It wasn’t doing much to silence the storm raging on inside her but it was comforting to hear the words. This wasn’t something she ever thought she’d be doing again, riding shotgun curled up against him. He’d been gone, dead for all she knew, just two weeks ago. Everything since then felt like a blur and a lifetime all at once. That pain, that heartbreak and betrayal had all washed away, but now in its place was fear and panic. While she’d been desperately trying to live in the moment and enjoy the one thing she’d wished for all these years, the nagging sense of dread in the back of her head was always there. “Trust me?” he asked, breaking up her inner monologue. “Yes,” she assured, “but it’s everyone else-” “The only faith I need is yours, sweetheart.” Liv lifted her head and looked at him, his mouth ticked up in a little smirk. As she leaned up to press her lips to his cheek she saw the Impala slowing in front of them. They’d made it. This was where Lucifer was. It was a quiet little town, no doubt completely oblivious to the fact that Satan himself was meandering around. Gabriel’s lips pursed as he mentally prepared himself, seeing his brother again certainly wasn’t the highest on his list of must-do’s. Wasn’t the lowest either. The Winchesters emerged from their car first, a very reluctant Rowena crawling out from the backseat a few moments later. The bar was across the street, Joe’s Town Club, and the poor bartender didn’t know what was about to hit him. Gabriel watched him through the window, still in the driver's seat of Liv’s Charger, trying to memorize motions and expressions. Lucifer had already been in there for a little while; while he was never one for nuances, the replica had to be as close to the original as possible for this to work. He also took a few minutes to watch his brother, slouched over with a pathetic little pout on his face. He was always such a whiny little brat, even when no one in the vicinity could care less. Liv sat patiently with him, staying silent as Gabriel did his work. A knock on the window jolted them both, Dean’s impatient face staring back at them as he gestured with his hands to get out and get going. Gabriel sighed and rolled his eyes, this is why they always broke the world. Impatience and impulsivity. The couple got out of the car, meeting in the makeshift circle the other three had formed behind the building. Rowena immediately held her hand out, holding the tiny vial filled with her swirling, purple potion, her shoulders straightening in artificial bravery as she prepared to face her assaulter. Sam and Dean took off in the direction of the bar, needing to get the original bartender out so Gabriel could slip in. “Let’s get it over with,” Rowena groaned, not wanting any melodramatic moments to stall them any further. “Be careful,” Liv sighed, “both of you” “Oh? Miss me, would you?” Liv rolled her eyes as she breathed a laugh at the witch before turning her attention to Gabriel, placing her palms flat against his chest. His eyes were gentle, as always, with a little bit of confidence swirling in them, which she was happy to see. Clearly, he knew something none of them did. “Keep the car running,” he teased, pecking a quick kiss to her forehead. “All right Gabe, you’re up,” Dean groaned as he and Sam dragged the unconscious bartender from the back door, “get in there quick before he realizes somethin’s up.” With a nod Gabriel took off through the backdoor, his golden hair changing to gray just as he disappeared from sight. The remaining four lingered for a moment in silence, before following Gabriel’s path and stopping to keep hidden in the back room. They could hear the murmur of their conversation, Lucifer’s tone ornery and pathetic. Liv watched as Gabriel poured the potion into a bottle before passing it down the bar. Any second now… “You ready for Apocaland, Liv?” Dean asked, breaking the silence that had settled. “I’m not going,” she answered nonchalantly, her eyes never leaving Gabriel. “What do you mean you’re not going?” “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory.” “Why?” Sam interjected, seeing Dean’s jaw begin to twitch. “He asked me not to. Rowena can use a second pair of hands I’m sure, right?” “Oh, always if they’re yours, dear,” Rowena purred in response, bumping her shoulder into Liv’s. “Do you always do whatever he says?” Dean barked, his tone accusatory. “Rarely,” Liv spat, finally moving her gaze to him, “and mind your tone.” Before Dean could answer, Liv turned her attention back to the two archangels in the main area. Gabriel was wiping glasses as Lucifer droned on and on about how he was a victim, same story, different day, but with one simple word her stomach dropped. Jack. Liv waved her hand, gesturing for Rowena to get ready, Sam and Dean readying their own stances to attack if needed. “What?” Dean breathed, confused by her sudden outburst. “He fucked up, said Jack’s name, get ready,” Liv warned, glancing quickly to the redhead on her right. The butterflies in Liv’s stomachs kicked into overdrive as Gabriel coolly tried to right his wrong, his hands never straying from the circles they were doing inside the tumbler. She watched as Lucifer got down off of his stool, rearing to attack and she wondered how the hell they were going to pull this one off, but then he stumbled, collapsing down onto the bar counter. Gabriel smiled as his brother shook his head, trying to shake off whatever fog he was feeling. “What’s the matter, buddy?” Gabriel taunted, getting so much joy out of seeing his brother incapacitated. “You did something to me,” Lucifer slurred, his brain clouding further. “Yeah, kinda spiked your drink. Think of it as a magical roofie, powerful enough to bring down an archangel —even me.” Suddenly, Gabriel shifted back into his true self, a little relieved smile settling on Liv’s face. She always hated when he transformed into other people, she’d never tell him but it was always a little disconcerting. However, there was no denying she was a little happy that the bartender’s shirt didn’t disappear in the process. “Hey, brother,” Gabriel greeted, his voice smug and proud as he manifested beside Lucifer. “I killed you,” Lucifer quavered, shuffling backwards and pointing his finger. “Surprise.” Liv laughed as Gabriel shook his hands, that little smirk on his face washed away all the concerns of this particular trip. He’d been right, he had him. When Lucifer darted for the back door, they all ducked, hoping he was too shell shocked from seeing his resurrected brother to notice any of them. Dean and Sam shared a glance, afraid that Gabriel had just let their one shot run escape from the back, but no more than a second later, Lucifer was returning back in through the front. Liv was surprised, she didn’t think he had enough grace left in him to be doing elaborate schemes like this, but she was happy he did. “Welcome back,” Gabe greeted again, back to his original position behind the counter, drying glasses once again. “Whoa….” Lucifer breathed, sitting down on a stool again, “Okay, what the hell did you put in that drink, man?” It was Rowena’s turn now. She pushed her way out, and Liv had to give her credit. She knew the witch was absolutely terrified, but she was out there holding her own with everything she had. She listened as Lucifer looked at her with the same shock he had Gabriel, having also killed her, and she wanted nothing more than to shove a blade through his chest. Even if it didn’t kill him, it’d hurt him and feel really, really good for her. Rowena finished off her spell, binding the devil’s hands behind him. Gabriel appeared beside Lucifer, shoving him back down on the the stool by his shoulder, waving the golden archangel blade from Dean in his brother’s face. Assuming it was now safe, Liv emerged from the back, Lucifer’s eyes darting over to her, instantly making her sick. “Liv! Oh my Dad! It’s been so long!” Lucifer choked, the spell still very much in effect, “Still slummin’ around with my putz of a brother I see. That’s sweet. Nothin’ like true love to really make my stomach churn.” “Shut up,” Liv spat, coming to stand right beside Gabriel. “Gabe, get your girl under control. I’d hate for anything to happen to her…” “Touch her and I’ll stab you myself,” Gabriel threatened, his nostrils flaring. “You guys are like… so in love. I can’t even. Look at you, finally standing up for something. Only took a million years. I’m proud of you, even if it is for a worthless, pathetic hu-“ Having heard enough, Gabriel slammed the hilt of the blade down on the back of his brother’s head, rendering him completely unconscious. He let him slump to the floor, standing with a vengeful scowl as he watched. There were so many things he wish he could do to him, just the tip of the iceberg of the pain and torment he’d cause him throughout the millennia. For stabbing him. For ripping their family apart. For creating the thing that had tortured and abused him even worse than even he’d done. For ripping him away from her. He couldn’t feel it, but his hand was shaking as he gripped the blade, his knuckles turning white. “Baby,” he heard her whisper, “hey, relax. Look at me.” Slowly, he turned his head up and to the side, Liv’s gentle, happy face greeting him. His nostrils were flared, lips in a thin line with a gaze that would send anyone with some sense packing. Thankfully, she didn’t have any and she stuck by his side, eyes locked with his. He could feel the ire beginning to subside as he took in her smile, proud and relieved. Once she knew he was aware of his surroundings, she placed a hand on his arm, coaxing his muscles to release from their contracted position. While he seemed okay, she knew that deep down he was still jumpy and a little reactive, especially when faced with the one thing left he wished he could kill. “You’ll get your chance,” she promised, “I’ll make sure of it.” “Well, we did it!” he announced, his voice alarmingly jovial. His tone had Liv right back into a state of nervousness. It was almost menacing. It was a nuance only she would have picked up on, and the alarms were going off. With great ease Gabriel hoisted his brother up by the collar of his shirt, and then threw him across the floor, his body crashing against the door. “Whoops… slipped,” Gabriel chastised, his lips puckering in feigned apology as his head tilted to the side. Liv watched as Gabriel stalked back over to the limp, crumpled archangel on the floor, his movements stiff and predatory. It’d been a very long time since she’d seen him like this. She saw his fingers dancing along the handle of the blade still wrapped tightly in his hand, his wrist twitching ever so slightly as he held back his desire to plunge it through Lucifer’s chest. “Gabe!” she yelled, hoping to break him of his trance and refocus his attention on something, anything else, “Sam and Dean can get him.” Taking a chance, she began to advance towards him, his gaze still locked onto his target. Slowly, she reached her hand out to cover his and pulled the blade from his grip, sighing in relief as his fingers released it to her. He didn’t look back at her, his body was uncharacteristically still and it was all very unsettling. She slipped the blade back into Rowena’s hands, who’d been watching on with a hint of fear. She knew what he was; even if he’d never given her a true reason to fear him, he was terrifying. “Hey,” Liv whispered, running her fingers down the back of his hand before grabbing it, “you’re uh… you’re kind of scaring everyone…” “Do I scare you?” Gabriel asked, monotoned, his voice a little deeper than normal. “Right now? A little…” Even hearing that from her couldn’t force the rage from his mind. That was one thing he’d always been mindful of, but right now, it was all-consuming. Fire burned beneath his skin, his chest heaved as the ire weighed every part of him down. She knew she had to get him out, she had to hit a reset button somewhere. With her free hand she reached up to his face, running her fingertips down his cheek before cupping his jaw and guiding him to her lips. Her kiss was soft but strong, showing him that she wasn’t going anywhere, afraid or not. Before she could even process what was happening, her back was pressed into the cool leather of her backseat, her body on high alert from the sudden change in surroundings. It had been a very long time since he’d flown her anywhere, and she’d forgotten just how to balance herself from the abrupt shift in time and place. He returned her affections hard, using her to push the violent fury from his mind. He could tell she was having trouble keeping pace with him, his mouth desperate and hungry as his hands grabbed her hips, digging into the soft skin, but he just couldn’t stop. “Just ask,” she instructed as she pulled away for air. “I’ll hurt you,” he panted, running his thumb across her cheek, nose nuzzling against hers. “Sit.” Not willing to wait for him to comply, she pushed against his chest, shifting with him as he sat back. Her knees nestled against the sides of his thighs as his mouth greedily returned to hers, tongue begging for entrance against her lips. She didn’t give in, instead she pulled away in favor of taking in the sight of him. His mouth was parted, his dark, reckless eyes shrouded by tousled hair, she loved watching him unravel beneath her. It was never something she took for granted. Slowly, she began pecking his lips again, denying every attempt to deepen their kiss, earning her a frustrated growl from the man at her beck and call. She knew that with him, the best way to help him gain control, was to first take it all away. “Stop playing games,” he grumbled, his fingers sliding up her thighs and squeezing when they reached the top. “Don’t,” she demanded, grabbing his wrists and pulling his hands from her, “no touching.” Anger and lust swirled in his eyes, making it hard to distinguish which emotion was taking control, but she kept going. He was still too far gone to comprehend her choice but soon she’d have him wound down enough to think straight, if he didn’t throw caution to the wind and end her little charade before she could finish. His hands dropped to his sides, his jaw jutting out in frustration as he obeyed her command. A smug little smirk spread out across her lips as she popped the buttons of his shirt free. “I like this shirt,” she complimented, over-enunciating her words, “keep it.” It was his turn to smile now, that power she held over him starting to calm the mania rooting itself in his brain. He tried to focus on little things, the Cupid’s bow of her lip, that little scar under her left eye he’d always been enraptured with, the way her legs felt as they trapped him contentedly beneath her, but it wasn’t enough. “I need you,” he pleaded, balling his fists as he fought the urge to run his hands up and down her ribs. “You have me,” she vowed, cupping his face in her hands, “forever. Just relax. Let me enjoy my final moments with you.” When she spoke that final sentence, all of the fight against her tease he’d been harnessing vanished. He forgot about Lucifer, revenge and rage, and instead, finally succumbed to her. She saw the change in his features, the hardened stone falling away to reveal the face she’d seen in her dreams for close to a decade. “There you are,” she cooed affectionately, leaning down and pressing her lips to his, “thought I’d lost you there for a second.” The reason for her behavior finally struck him, and he laughed, “How’d I get so lucky?” Her forehead pressed to his as she giggled through her nose, which he softly kissed, enjoying the way it crinkled up at his affection. Never in his life had he been with someone who understood him, without judgement or question. He would stay curled up in this backseat with her forever if he could, her warmth molded against him as she fought back his demons with her proximity alone. In all of his thousands of years he’d never once thought there was someone out there who could redeem him, fix him, but she’d come. She may have arrived kicking and stabbing, but he’d let her shove a stake through his chest everyday for eternity if it meant he could feel this clear, this free. “You gonna make me drive home with this, or can we take care of it?” he teased, pushing his lower body up into her. “I think I can help you out,” she suggested, pushing herself up on her knees to give him access to her jeans, “oh, you can touch me now.” “Finally.” The drive back to Lebanon was too short. Both of them fighting the urge to silently wallow in their thoughts. Instead, they kept conversations light with fond memories of the past and hopes for the future. A future neither of them knew would even come. His smile lit up the world in her eyes, while hers gave the galaxies far beyond the one they were in a run for their money in his. Their hands stayed locked together, her head resting against his shoulder, for the entire drive. She’d never been more thankful for a bucket front seat in her entire life. When the bunker came into view, he slowed, wanting to drag out every possible second. Once they got inside, it was time for a goodbye he wasn’t ready for. One he’d never be ready for. His heart dropped into his stomach like an anvil as he put the car into park, his fingers gripping around hers a little tighter. She said nothing, just curled her body against him as far as she could, dreading the hours and days to come. They could hear the rest of the team talking from the library as they entered the old building, no doubt waiting on them from their delay back at the bar. They’d waited this long, they could wait a few more minutes. “You better be quick,” she mumbled, feeling tears prick at her eyes as she pulled him into her arms. “Faster than a toupee in a hurricane,” he whispered, kissing her temple, letting his lips linger against her skin, “Keep my brother in check, yeah?”

He pulled away slightly, to look down at her, and she nodded in response to his request. Her tears were falling now, cheeks wet and eyes swollen and he wished for once he could say goodbye to her without this feeling. As her fingers wound into his hair, his eyes closed, taking in every facet of the way she felt pressed against him. When she pulled his face down to her own and her lips laid against his, he thought for a moment he wouldn’t be crossing over that rift. “Love you,” she breathed against his lips. “I know,” he responded, smiling, “get ready for me. When I get back it’s all cards off the table and you on it, sweetheart. Stretch out those hammie’s, you’re gonna need to be limber.” “Shut up.” A laugh to remember her with, that small, breathy sound sent courage through him. “One more for good luck,” he teased, kissing her softly again. “You better come back to me,” she warned, keeping her fingers gripped in his hair and his face close. “Have no other intentions.” Doubt was beginning to wreak havoc in his mind. While he’d known that dying was a possibility, it now felt like a probability. He’d fight with everything he had, but when it came down to it, that wasn’t very much. His lips crashed down onto hers, his change in pace startling her. Open mouthed and sloppy, he gave her every ounce of love he could muster. If this was it, he wasn’t making the same mistake as last time, leaving her without one last kiss, no matter what happened they’d always have this. “But… if I don’t…” he panted, pushing his forehead against hers. “Don’t,” she cut off, voice hoarse as she pressed her fingertips against his lips, “don’t.” It was time to be realistic. He wasn’t walking off again without saying everything that needed to be said. He kissed each of her fingertips softly before pulling her hand away, freeing his mouth to say words he wished he didn’t have to. “If I don’t come back,” he began as her eyes pinched shut and she wished she could stop the words from coming, “I love you. So much. I never deserved anything like you, never. I fucked up. I did you so wrong, and I’m so sorry. I wish I was stronger, and better, and… I wish I could have given you what you deserve. You deserve so much more… than me. You fixed me, Liv. You took all these broken pieces and put Humpty Dumpty back together again. Everything I am, is yours. Dead or alive.” “You aren’t dying, Gabriel,” she commanded, “understand me? I don’t give a shit what you think. If you fucking die, I’m gonna find you, bring you back and then kill you again myself.” “That’s my girl.” “Come back to me.” “I’ll always find my way back to you. One way or the other.” He kissed her again, one last time. Her tears were warm against his cheek, reminding him of the damage he’d always inflicted upon her. It was never meant to end this way. When he’d found her in that bar all those years ago, this wasn’t where he’d imagined they’d be eleven years later. While at the time he hadn’t thought he’d fall head over heels in love with her, he never could have predicted the mess of their lives he’d made. “God damnit,” she cried, her fingers unwilling to release him. “We’re almost to the finish line,” he reassured, “then I’m taking you to Mexico, forever.” “Okay.” Guilt washed through him as he watched her face twist in agony, her fingers finally unlocking from his hair. She knew it was time to compose herself, she couldn’t face that room full of people with tears in her eyes. Even though she’d let him go, he stayed just as close, tipping her chin up towards him. “No more crying. You’ve cried enough over me,” he cooed, wiping her cheeks with his thumb. “Okay,” was all she could muster again, her heart shutting down as it prepared to lose him once again. Time was up. Gabriel slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her in tight against him as they began their walk into the library. Each step was heavier and heavier as their feet carried them through the stone walls. When they reached the group, Rowena was prepping the spell, Lucifer still unconscious, as Sam and Dean waited impatiently. Dean was sitting on the table that Rowena was using, Cas across from them, Sam leaning against the pillar in front of the devil. Liv immediately approached Castiel, pulling herself from Gabriel’s embrace. “Promise me you’ll bring him back,” she begged, grabbing the angel’s hands, “dead or alive.” “Liv…” Castiel began, his voice filled with sympathy. “Just, promise me… They don’t care about him. But you do. Bring him back to me. Please.” “I promise.” She sighed in relief, no matter how this ended, it would end with closure. No mystery, no questions. No matter which way it went, she’d see him one last time. She could feel Gabriel’s eyes boring into the back of her head, but she couldn’t turn to look at him. “He’s awake,” Rowena announced, everyone’s attention now turning to him. “Oh, hey Sam,” Lucifer greeted, “Oh, look at this. All the people I love to torture all in the same room. What’s the occasion guys?” Rowena approached with her bowl of ingredients, her steps cautious and calculated. Even when he was bound her fear of him was clear. While Liv wasn’t happy to be sidelined, she had a feeling Rowena was relieved to not be alone with Lucifer for any amount of time. “Ah. Okay. I think I see what’s going on. You’re planning a trip to save mother Mary and you need my grace. That about it?” Lucifer droned on, his voice grating. “Good guess,” Castiel responded, grabbing Lucifer by his hair to expose his throat. Castiel carefully cut an incision into the bound angel’s neck, his grace beginning to flow freely into the bowl, and when his head was released, the thick stream shrunk into a steady drip. Liv was happy to see her plan executing to flawlessly, Gabriel smiling proudly in her direction. “Okay, you could’ve done this back at the bar,” Lucifer whined at his brother, “Could’ve drained me, killed me. What’s this really about? Humiliation? Revenge?” “This was my little contribution,” Liv announced proudly, “see we figured out that grace, has a direct correlation with just how long that door stays open,” Liv listened on as Rowena recited the incantation and watched as the rift ripped strongly through the air, “so, we’re gonna keep you here, all tied up like a bow, so you can feel yourself slowly fade away into nothing. And then, when they get back, maybe Gabe will put you out of your misery.” “Grace on tap,” Gabriel added on, “Sorry, bro. Can’t argue with her.” “Cool…” Lucifer submitted, eyeing Liv with a murderous gaze, “lemme guess, he’ll need permission then? To off me? Please oh merciful Lord…”

“It’s more a matter of how quick he does it, actually,” Liv seethed in response, “personally I’m rooting for slow and methodical. I could use dinner and a show.”

“You two gonna be okay back here?” Sam asked, looking between the two women. “Aye, we’ll be best pals by the end of it I think, won’t we?” Rowena quavered, “Go save your mum.” “You ready?” Gabriel asked the younger Winchester. “Ready,” Sam replied before immediately walking through the billowing orange light and disappearing from view. Castiel followed, Liv’s heart racing as she watched each of her friends simply vanish from view. Her heart was pounding, she’d never felt this helpless in her entire life. As Gabriel approached the portal, he paused, turning back to look at her one last time, hoping and begging to the powers that be that it wouldn’t be the last time his eyes met with hers. “Love you,” he bade one final time, before stepping foot into a whole new nightmare.

I’d love to hear your thoughts, predictions, anything like that! Also, I think it’s time, before everyone is mad... that I’ll be working on a prequel! As soon as this is done. Much happier, much fluffier, much nicer...

TAGS: @idabbleincrazy @analisespn @nodistressdamsel @morganas-pendragons

#gabriel x oc #gabriel x ofc #gabriel #gabriel fic #gabriel fanfiction #spn

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lycorogue · 6 years ago

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Meet My OCs: Willow (Part 2 - Relationships)

Welcome back, folks! As I mentioned in Part 1 of Meet Willow, she became a bit overwhelming, forcing me to post a week late, as well as break her introduction into a mini-series in and of itself.

A quick recap before I keep going. This is part of a multi-post series I started here on Tumblr about a month ago. A means to introduce you guys to my main OCs.

In Part 1 of this series, I talked about why I'm doing it in the first place, as well as explain the real-world influences that helped me create my two story worlds of Gyateara and Glitches.

Part 2 of the series talked about the inspiration that birthed each of my four main Gyateara characters.

Part 3a did the same, but for my four main teenage Glitches characters.

Part 3b then talked about the Glitches main supportive cast of six adult characters; each one originating as a canonical X-Men character.

A couple minutes ago, I moved on to Part 4 of this series; the official introduction of my characters, one by one. I started off with my most present character: Willow Driver in her own multi-post mini-series. In that first section, I talked about Willow's background, gave an overview of her personally, and introduced you to her powers.

In Meet Willow: Part 2, I'm discussing her main relationships. Then, within the next few minutes, I'll also have Part 3 posted, which will discuss her story arc thus far in the X-Future play-by-post game she originated in, as well as how it relates to my intended starter character arc in Glitches.

Then, as I move onto Part 4, I’ll display all the other images I have of Willow. Part 5 will complete Willow’s official introduction with some scene samples and shorts. Finally, this Willow mini-series will conclude with a bit of fun: videos of her as a customized wrestler on my husband’s WWE13 video game.

For now, though, how about we see how Willow interacts with others, shall we?

Shawn:

Shawn and Willow Image generated via doll makers designed by ChaZie.

Willow's brother is 15months older than her, and has a tumultuous relationship with his sister. For most of their childhood, neither Driver child knew their father was a mutant/glitch, due to him hiding his powers from them. Shawn and Willow played pretend that they themselves were powerful mutants/glitches, and were basically best friends until Shawn neared puberty.

Once Shawn hit 13, he thought it was too childish for him to continue playing pretend with Willow, and started to grow distant from her. One day, while the two were arguing, and Willow threw a bit of a tantrum that Shawn wouldn't play with her anymore, Willow manifested the illusion of fireballs whipping at Shawn. He was terrified, and, having felt slighted and abandoned by her brother, Willow took full advantage.

Shawn and Willow's father Jacob admitted to being a mutant/glitch, and tried to train Willow on the use and control of her powers. Meanwhile, Shawn, who didn't have powers, cowered and became closer to their mother Meryl as she tried to protect Shawn from the pranks Willow would pull. Willow loved the pranks she could pull with her new powers, using Shawn as the butt of most jokes; using him to “train” her illusionary abilities. Understandably, this made Shawn withdraw more from his kid sister. This created a downward spiral, though.

The more pranks Willow pulled on Shawn, the more he attempted to avoid her. This made Willow feel more abandoned by her first best friend, and so, instead of ceasing the pranks to make amends, she retaliated with more and more spiteful pranks and jump-scares. She acted immaturely and impulsively, but she never truly understood that she was actually tormenting and bullying her brother. She never meant to actually cause the mental torture she inflicted. This doesn't excuse her behavior or diminish the pain she caused Shawn; it simply explains her perspective of it.

In the two years after Willow discovered her powers, her mischievous use of them became increasingly mean-spirited pranks, and her anger and confusion about being the only mutant/glitch she knew outside of her father spilled over into her pulling pranks on disliked classmates as well. It was then that Meryl and Shawn were finally able to convince Jacob to send Willow to the Colossus Academy so that she could have better structure, the ability to socialize with other mutants/glitches, and receive a more refined training on her powers.

Shawn's traumatizing and humiliating torment by his kid sister's hand was finally done, and Shawn believed he finally had a breather; a means to return to a normal life. However, high school can be just as cruel. Upon realizing Shawn's sister was “sent away,” it wasn't long for people to figure out she was a mutant/glitch. Although Shawn had no powers or physical mutations, he was still relentlessly teased by his peers, causing him to hate Willow even more since he could never escape her.

Shawn closed himself off from everyone; becoming a loner with virtually no friends aside from those he could make anonymously online. It wouldn't be until he left for college did he truly start anew. No one knew him, no one knew his sister, no one made the mutant/glitch connection. He was free. He broke all ties with his family when he graduated high school, making sure he could pay his own way through college.

He didn't want his family to know where he was, having grown distant from his parents as well. His kid sister had loved teasing him, pulling pranks on him, and messing with his head. His father cared more about “staying invisible” than he cared about keeping Shawn safe from his sister by sending her away, and Jacob had only caved when she started messing with her classmates; drawing attention to their family. Shawn's mother, while routinely begging Jacob to send Willow to The Academy, never did much to rein in her daughter and/or protect her son. Shawn had grown to hate them all.

(Side Note: in X-Future my husband had Shawn be a psychopath bent on revenge against his family, but I don't think he needs that additive, and I don't think psychopaths need more violent representation to add to the stigma, it’s bad enough that Trish may be a movie-stereotyped psychopath. So, in Glitches, Shawn is just a boy pushed to the edge by a less-than-ideal, and, dare I say, abusive/neglectful childhood.)

Since Shawn is a secondary character, I haven't come up with the actual inciting incident yet, but, while Shawn was away at college, and riled up about his family for whatever reason, his own powers finally manifested. Electrical current spiraled around his forearms, coming to points just past his finger tips like drill heads. He learned he could also shoot off these electrical drill heads from his arms. Once he realized he also had powers, Shawn became more and more destructive and violent, until he was finally expelled from college.

That was when The Brotherhood found him, recruited him, and Shawn took on the “oh so clever” code name of Screwdriver (my husband's idea; he likes puns). After his training with The Brotherhood was complete, Pyro allowed Shawn to have a bit of personal “leave” from the organization. Shawn used that opportunity to try to murder his parents. He failed; barely. So barely that he believed he had accomplished his task. Jacob and Meryl only survived because a few X-Men managed to get to them in time to rescue them from the rubble Shawn tried to crush them under.

Shawn's next goal, not realizing his parents are still alive, is to find Willow to torture and kill her.

Willow is dumbfounded to discover how violent and vengeful her brother has become, and is trying desperately to repent so she can help him heal and redeem himself. It probably isn't going to end well for these two, as showcased in this song that inspired their dynamic in the first place: “What Have You Done” by Within Temptation

youtube

It was originally going to be Willow’s feelings towards Devon, but it just worked so much better as her singing about a love of a brother than a potential romantic relationship souring.

Penumbra:

Affectionately called “Penny” by Willow, Noelle “Penumbra” Firada has the ability to teleport via shadows, and turn shadows into solid objects she can wield and attack/defend with. She was paired up with the slightly younger girl as a roommate back at Colossus Academy. Barely a day into their living arrangements, Penumbra became fast-friends with Willow. This quickly turned into an attraction to her BFF and roommate. Before the end of the semester, Penumbra knew she was in love.

Willow loved the attention, and she'd routinely flirt with Penumbra. She even had a few make-out sessions with Noelle, just for the fun of it. Willow never loved Penumbra back, though. She just enjoyed the companionship. From Willow's point of view, she wasn't doing anything wrong. Penumbra wanted a relationship, and Willow was complying... to a point.

When the duo moved to the Xavier Institute, and Willow met Chayse and Devon, she realized what true infatuation - and even romance - felt like. It was then that she realized how cruel she was to Penumbra by stringing her along. She instantly stopped her flirting and sexually physical interactions with Noelle.

Shortly after, Penumbra realized that Willow wanted Chayse and/or Devon, but not her. Willow would never love Penumbra the way Penny wanted. So, Penumbra let Willow go. She moved on, and never begrudged Willow their relationship. She understood that Willow was young and stupid. Their friendship became stronger from it, but Penumbra also needed distance. So, once she was of age, Penumbra signed up to become a full-fledged X-Men (X-Man?), and volunteers to go on missions as frequently as possible to stay away from the Institute while Willow is still there studying.

William:

This is a character I won't be bringing over to Glitches, at least, not as-is. He may become part of a composite character, or be a rough skeleton to build a new original character from in the future. So, this bit of Willow's history is solely anchored to X-Future.

While at Colossus Academy and Xavier Institute, Willow continued to enjoy pulling pranks, although they weren't quite as mean-spirited as they were when she pulled them on Shawn. One of the students she loved to target was William. He was straight-laced, stuffy, a bookworm, stickler for the rules, and a 17yo that acted more like he was 80; always complaining about the immaturity of his classmates, and never joining in at social events. Willow wanted William to let loose and actually act like a kid for once, so she always tried to coax him via her illusions.

She would transform study rooms into hot spring oases, and have herself seemingly draped in just a towel as she relaxed in the water. This would get William worked up, but never in the manner that Willow intended. She misread a few glances from William as he raged about her illusions, and assumed he had a thing for her. Since she was only 15 at the time of their meeting, and he was nearing 18, she falsely assumed he was resisting the temptation of being with someone so young. She then wondered how far she could push him before he caved.

That was when she started to follow him around whenever they were out of classes, so she could try to seduce him. She created more oases, with images of her scantily clad within the illusions. She created “clones” of herself, so she could tease William while four other copies of herself crawled all over him, purring in his ear, sensually nibbling on his neck and fingers, and generally just straddling his lap.

William was never much of a fan, and routinely berated her immaturity and sensual nature.

One day, while experimenting with his teleportation powers, William accidentally teleported too high into the atmosphere, couldn't breathe, fainted, and fell to his death. Willow mourned him deeply, and helped Lia create a memorial statue of William by projecting an image of him for Lia to use as a blueprint for her sculpture.

Once alone in her room to grieve further, Willow realized she was never sexually or even romantically interested in William. Instead, the reason she had such fun teasing him was because he reminded her a little of Shawn, and she missed her brother. He had moved away to college at that point, and her parents couldn't tell her where he went. All she wanted to do was apologize to Shawn for her behavior when they were kids, and she wanted to apologize to William for tormenting him in a similar (but all-over different) manner. She will always regret never before realizing that William was like another older brother for her, and she again couldn't treat him the way he deserved.

Hedge:

The remaining brother-figure in her life, Willow was kinder to Winston, especially after her realization post-William. She tried to get him to open up to her, but in gentler ways, and without teasing him. He still mostly kept to himself, though, and this time Willow decided not to push.

Tragedy still struck when the Xavier Institute was attacked, and collapsed under an explosion. One of the students that died in the attack was Hedge, and Willow vowed to never forgive those responsible. Willow's heart broke to discover that her best friend and crush Devon was a potential suspect since he defected to The Brotherhood an hour before the attack.

Devon:

Willow saw through him fairly easily within the first few minutes of meeting each other. He was this punk kid who had lived on the streets and didn't trust anyone. He was also about as dense as steel, and only marginally more intelligent. She loved to pick on his ignorance and “tough guy” persona. However, she also saw potential in a fellow prankster. They soon started meeting up to plan pranks; usually on poor William. Willow loved the idea of Devon's shape-changing potential, although he focused mainly on his fire manipulation powers.

Devon grew a crush on Willow almost instantly, and she loved the attention. She just assumed it was like Penumbra's crush on her at first, especially since Willow had her eye on the headmistress's son Chayse at the time. However, the closer Willow got to Devon, the more they bonded and became friends, the more she realized her heart raced just a bit whenever he was around, and she would get flushed whenever she caught him staring, or could catch mental whispers of his attraction towards her. She definitely had a crush, and debated acting upon it. However, by that point Devon had become her other best friend, aside from Penumbra, and she didn't want to screw up this friendship the way she did with Penny. So she kept her crush to herself.

Shortly after realizing her romantic interest in Devon, he met a member of The Brotherhood. Pyro, to be exact, and Pyro instantly suspected that Devon could be his long-lost child. Unsure if Devon truly was his son, Pyro simply hinted that he could help Devon discover who his parents are, and who he truly is. Devon turned down the offer at first, instead asking Cyclops for answers. The veteran X-Men (X-Man? I never know what to call one X-Men member) decided to test Devon's loyalty first in a cruel and manipulative Danger Room session. He tricked Devon into presumably betraying the X-Men for The Brotherhood, and declared Devon unready to know his parentage.

This made Devon realize that perhaps he truly wasn't cut out for the X-Men, and ran off to join The Brotherhood. An hour later the Xavier Institute came crashing down in an attack. Most of the students were given enough warning to get to safety, but there were still casualties, such as Hedge.

Willow was terrified at first, because no one could find Devon. His letters of farewell and gratitude were burnt up in the attack; unread and unfound. A security tape linked to the school's version of a Black Box showed Devon running away from the school, proving he was alive, but making him a suspect in the attack.

Instantly, Willow went from worried to betrayed. She didn't know the face of the person/people who attacked the Institute, so it was Devon's face Willow pictured whenever she thought of revenge for Hedge. This did not bode well for Devon when he eventually made his way back to the Institute. He had initially meant to only infiltrate The Brotherhood, and then bring back intel to make up for his supposed betrayal in Cyclops' test. Devon had only stayed with The Brotherhood for two years because he learned of the attack on the Institute, assumed everyone there had been killed, and The Brotherhood promised him revenge on the school's supposed attackers: an anti-mutant group called The Purifiers.

When Devon discovered most of his friends had survived the attack, and the school was rebuilt, he attempted to return, and was promptly punched out by Willow upon his arrival.

It kept a while for Willow to forgive Devon, only for him to later be killed off by Trish. (Whoops. X-Future Spoilers...) Willow had to then grieve her friend once more, yet again unknowing that he actually is still alive and well. He was revived by another mutant unaffiliated with the X-Men or Brotherhood. However, Devon also has amnesia, his mutation gave him a new default face, and he's living in a mutant safe-house with the girl that revived him.

Chayse:

Willow almost instantly fell for Chayse. In the X-Future canon, Chayse was dating Lia when Willow transferred into the Xavier School. Willow flirted slightly, but she mostly left Chayse alone. She wasn't going to break up a relationship, which was one of the main reasons she switched focus to Devon, whom she was also attracted to, and who was single.

Alternatively, since Willow and Lia start up at Emily's school at the same time in Glitches, Chayse and Lia never actually start dating. Which means Willow and Chayse have more of a romantic relationship from the get-go, Chayse and Devon are more romantic rivals, and Willow doesn't become QUITE as close with Devon now that her attention is more equally torn between the guys.

For both X-Future and Glitches, Willow found Chayse attractive, and kind, and enjoyed that he was also more mischievous than he let on. She loved the idea of him rebelling slightly against his parents, especially when everyone expected the son of the Headmistress to be perfectly behaved and mature. She was also intrigued by Chayse. His powers of phasing and kinetic energy manipulation meant he was naturally resistant to psychic attacks. This included Willow's illusions. She could make him see or hear the illusions, but he quickly picked up that they weren't real and could dispel them. He also had to actively allow her to telepathically talk to him, as well as actively allow her illusions to work on him in order to get the sensory input of smell, taste, or touch.

Willow and Chayse were paired up for more and more X-Men missions after the attack on the school, bringing the duo closer. Willow as also no longer distracted by romantic interest in Devon. Before the duo realized what was happening, Chayse had fallen for Willow. They had promised not to act upon it while Chayse was still with Lia. When they got back from their mission, Chayse began the difficult task of breaking up with Lia. Shortly after, Chayse was visited by Penumbra, who vetted him to make sure he'd be a good boyfriend to Willow.

Seeing how much Chayse and Willow cared for each other, Penumbra surrendered her feelings, and gave the couple her blessing. It took significantly longer for Lia to also be alright with Chayse and Willow's relationship. Knowing how much their relationship would hurt Lia, they waited a month after Chayse and Lia's break-up before getting together, allowing Lia time to grieve before seeing her ex dating someone else. Chayse and Willow finally became an official couple for the Xavier Institute's prom.

Through time travel shenanigans in X-Future that will not appear in Glitches, a man named Sebastian arrived at the present from the future. The 20-something was so shocked to have traveled back in time that he didn't hide his origins nearly as well as he should have. It was quickly revealed that he was the son of Chayse and Willow; a stunning fact that was revealed only a couple weeks after Chayse and Willow began dating.

After the initial shock, things fell back into some semblance of normalcy. The next big hurtle for Willow, who is now much more mature than when she started out, is to help Chayse through his struggle with the knowledge that his best friend wishes to kill him after being tortured and brain washed (very Stucky, but without the sexual tension). Meanwhile, Willow is still dealing with the knowledge that Shawn wishes her dead, and has already attempted to torture her by nearly killing Chayse.

Lia:

There was always an awkward relationship between my two main X-Future characters. Lia was a bit shy, a goody-two-shoes, and mature for her age. She butted heads a little with the more cocky, playful, outgoing, mischievous, and relatively immature Willow. Luckily, Lia is a little dense herself, and never really picked up on Willow's attraction towards Chayse, otherwise there may have been more tension. Tension that might make its way to Glitches since both ladies will be vying for Chayse's attention at the same time.

A month or so after transferring to the Xavier Institute, Willow calmed down a bit, and Lia saw her more endearing qualities. The two became friends as Lia tried to rein Willow in a touch, and Willow helped Lia cut loose a little. They balanced each other out, and by the end of the school year, they were good friends. Things got a little shaky again when Willow was sent on a mission with Chayse after the school's collapse, and Lia was forced to stay behind to help fortify the school's foundation. When Chayse returned and continued his relationship with Lia without a hiccup at all, Lia figured her jealousy was uncalled for, and her friendship with Willow strengthened again.

They became roommates that school year, and grew closer as friends. So, when Willow realized how much she cared for Chayse, and that Chayse liked her back, she felt incredibly guilty and turned Chayse down. She couldn't be the reason he broke up with Lia. Chayse then confessed that he and Lia had just grown apart over their two-year relationship, and he was planning on breaking up with her anyway. He and Willow then agreed to not do anything until Chayse officially broke up with Lia. Even then, they’d give Lia time to grieve the relationship before she had to watch her roommate and close friend date her ex.

The unexpected hiccup in their plan was that apparently Lia didn’t see her and Chayse drifting apart as much as he did. She did NOT take the break up well. Her emotions went berserk, and she lost control of her powers, igniting herself into her lava form, but without the added obsidian skin protection she usually had. Thankfully, Chayse was able to phase Willow out of the room before anyone was injured. Chayse then used his powers to try to calm Lia back down; collapsing under the stress. Seeing Chayse faint shocked Lia back into control of her powers, and she rushed to get help while Willow watched over Chayse.

Willow and Lia then had a semi-heated argument in the infirmary while waiting to hear news about Chayse. Lia admitted her wrongdoing in their argument, and the two called an uneasy truce.

Willow walked on eggshells around Lia for the next month, but eventually accepted Chayse's invite to the prom. By that point, Lia was mostly in a good spot again. She and Willow again attempted to build their friendship back up. It took some time, and they butted heads a few times yet again. Lia backslid a bit when she found out the truth about Sebastian, but then realized that she was trying to compete against “fate” so she officially gave up on her feelings for Chayse, and wished he and Willow a happy relationship.

Nearly a year later, and Lia and Willow are finally back to a good place between them. Lia is now dealing with a similar situation as Chayse: her former roommate and good friend is teamed up with Chayse's former best friend, and the duo is trying to attack the X-Men and destroy Chayse and Lia. Willow's trying her best to keep her two closest companions above water, especially after losing Devon.

Willow's Parents Jacob and Meryl:

In truth, while Jacob and Meryl have a rough and unhealthy relationship with Shawn, they have a fairly good relationship with Willow.

Meryl was a bit afraid of Willow when she would torment Shawn, and was at wit's end trying to figure out what to do with her daughter. However, since Willow was sent to Colossus Academy, and has matured and mellowed a bit, Meryl was able to have the loving Mother-Daughter relationship they had before Willow discovered her powers.

On the flipside, Willow was hurt at first to discover that Jacob had powers the whole time, but decided to hide them from his children. With their training, though, Willow began to bond with her father. She then felt abandoned and unwanted when she was sent to the Academy, but by the end of her first year there, she understood how unruly she was and why she had to be sent away. While not as close as during those two years Jacob was her sole trainer, Willow did grow a tight bond with her father again over the years.

Willow was terrified to hear of her parents’ near-death experience while she was away on a mission, and even more horrified to realize it was Shawn who had attacked them. In the X-Future canon, Willow was also pissed to find out that her parents knew of Shawn's mental illness, and hid both it and his need for drugs from Willow. While Willow was in shock to discover how violent and hate-filled Shawn was, Meryl and Jacob accepted it as who their son truly was without his medication.

Again, in the Glitches rewrite, Shawn won't be a psychopath, and so the “that's just Shawn off his meds” mentality won't show up.

Until things are resolved with Shawn, Willow's parents have sanctuary within the Xavier Institute. Willow's not the largest fan of seeing her parents daily after 4yrs of being away at boarding schools, especially since she's grown accustomed to a bit of self-parenting and autonomy. However, she also finds it nice to have access to her parents whenever she wants to see them, talk to them, or just be around them/hug them.

------------------------------

Well, this post is even longer than the first one for Willow! I haven't even talked about her relationships with other characters, such as Cyclops, the villainess Agony, the new recruits Jacob and Temperance, or Devon's new love Nyssa. It's just too much to introduce the characters as well, though, so I'll have to wave the white flag here. Next up will be Meet Willow: Part 3 – Character Arc Events. For that post, I'm going to talk about the main events of X-Future that impact Willow's over-all character arc, as well as how they might show up in Glitches.

While you wait for that post to go live, feel free to check out the other posts in this series.

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 1

learning how I created Gyatera and Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 2

learning how I came up with the characters for Gyateara

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3a

learning how I came up with the original teenage characters for Glitches

Who Wants To Meet My OCs? Part 3b

learning how I came up with original reworks of the adult characters for Glitches

Meet Willow (Part 1 – Background)

Broad overview of Willow’s past, her powers, and her personality

#writing #LycoRogue writing #OCs #Meet My OCs #Meet Willow #long post #Glitches #Willow Driver #Willow #Willow's relationships #series post #6 of ?#updates every other Sunday #LycoRogue original

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summonerpetra · 6 years ago

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If Would Be Great If ____ Won Male Edition

Alm

· He’ll finally get an alt! He’ll be the second Valentia character to get an alt!

· Hopefully now IS will get the hint that people actually do care about the Valentia characters and add more/give more of them alts???

· Potential first red bow

· Conqueror Alm with Rudolf inspired armor. Tell me you don’t want to see that

· This impulsive dork is quite popular with the community, as seen with him placing 4th for males and 9th overall in last year’s Choose Your Legends. He differs from the typical lord by being a more down to earth villager who hadn’t seen much of the world rather than a sheltered lord who hadn’t seen much of the world. His willingness to be emotional and kindness make him endearing and more than just an eager to fight farm boy.

Marth

· He was screwed over last year and IS knows it

· Marth emblem would be a thing without having to include Masked Marth

· Potential nod to Elice in his outfit? Or better yet, pantless Marth?

· He’s a good boy who’s often overlooked for being “too boring”, a feeling not helped by the fact only one of his four games was released outside of Japan. Yes, he’s an idelistic prince who dislikes war, but his games give reasoning for his morals by showing the events that lead to their development and the tolls of his idealism are also portrayed, making him more of a complex character. He knows the downsides of his approach to the world but sticks with it, something that takes a lot of strength.

Eliwood

· Finally a good alt!

· Complete the Blazing trio! Also, let IS know we love Eliwood just as much as Lyn, Hector, and Roy.

· His ceremonial garb from the end of Blazing Blade would look so nice.

· Eliwood suffers from not being Hector and Lyn and was thus overlooked for years. But that doesn’t mean there’s nothing to his character. Sir of Coffee wrote up a better explanation of him that I ever could over on GamePress so I’ll just link it here so you can go and read about all the wonderful traits of Eliwood

Chrom

· To me, he will always be the husband so I always appreciate seeing more of this destructive awkward dork

· Since there’s already the Exalt alt, what would his Brave alt be? A homage to Emmeryn? A lance alt to match Brave Lucina?

· He has so many good lines in the game, especially Exalt Chrom. Just imagine what stupid and sweet things he would say in a Forging Bonds event

· Even taking into account my first game bias, I still think Chrom is one of my favorite lords in the series. He’s often seem by people as a bit of a joke because yes, he’s not the smartest guy around. He’s stupidly trusting and impulsive but he also has incredible charisma and kindness. There’s a reason he’s such a popular marriage choice, besides it making sense from a story perspective and adding to the weight and emotion of later parts of the story.

#fire emblem heroes #feh #choose your legends #choose your legends 3 #CYL3 #male bracket #top four #alm #marth #eliwood #chrom #I didn't vote for any of them so I have no horse in this race #I would love to see any and all of them win #good luck men

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mrsmess · 7 years ago

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Brutal Binaries: Characterization in Gilmore Girls and The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

Books and literature are important in Amy Sherman-Palladino’s stories, if not as interests among many of the characters then as a system for references. In Gilmore Girls, literature is painted as being Rory’s biggest interest, and Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead is featured as one of her favorite books. Rand’s ideas of strength and weakness appear in The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel too and is partly crystalized through Abe Weissman’s line, repeated by Midge in the pilot: “Don’t pick a weak husband!” making it clear that strength of character is an important indicator of value in these stories. It seems fair to assume that there’s an idea of what weakness consists of for contrast. This text is meant to explore what ASP’s definition of those terms might be, using her characters as material.

ASP’s main female characters share or have many overlapping traits: They are charming, not too concerned with propriety, and those who are seem to be in a habit of dominating those social games. They are all flawed in their separate or collective ways but sympathetic, both in the eyes of the viewer and the surrounding characters. They are loved.

The male characters generally serve as the more destructive or distractive forces in these stories. When the male characters make mistakes, they will normally have more trouble than their female counterparts recovering from them, having their arcs end in tragedy or villainy. Mind you, these terms are used loosely as this kind melodrama rarely plays out in full in ASP’s worlds. She writes the folly of everyday life, will normalize even the darkest narrative turns with humor, and her capacity for writing humanity makes you feel for characters even when you as a viewer long since have lost the will to sympathize with them, and that is a great feat. It is clear that she loves her characters, even the undeserving ones. All the same, ASP often uses binaries, scales, to measure how worthy a character is. Strong or weak. A character might possess strength and be forgiven for a whole bunch of other flaws, but a character being a particular brand of weakness will be unredeemable.

For reference: Rand’s definition of weakness, at least in The Fountainhead, is the lack of self. Keating’s weakness is not that he’s unsympathetic - even if he is, just like Roark – but that he has no vision, no personality of his own, he is defined entirely by others’ expectations and opinions of him. Roark is the polar opposite, he needs the approval of no one, is pure drive towards his visions which generally no one gets but him. It is worth noting that him being wildly unpopular affects his ability to make ends meet, while Keating gains success.

Most of ASP’s heroines are portrayed as naturally possessing strength with a few anomalies, they make mistakes, have to complete their learning curves, but in the end, get back on the right path. The right path is the one leading them to themselves, allowing them to fulfill their visions or individual narratives. To live one’s own life, not someone else’s, is imperative to these characters’ stories. Often the heroine’s journey will be one of choosing between what is right and what is easy. She will occasionally choose wrong, which will be illustrated by her incapacity to maintain her decision, she cannot hold back her inner strength, its tide will rip her from what’s easy, from the status quo, and funnel her closer to what is right.

There I go, using over-dramatic terms again, not necessarily applicable on ASP’s particular brand of drama; What is right does for instance not necessarily mean morally or ethically right, even though it will often host an aspect of those, but mainly it’ll mean what is right for the character – what enables her to fulfill her true potential.

These binaries; right and easy, strong and weak, will have representation in the shape of other characters. In MM the scale is made up of Susie, representing what is right, and Joel, representing what is easy. The same parallel can be drawn to GG’s Lorelai, who’s binary consists of Luke and Christopher, and many will argue that Rory’s would be made up of Jess and Logan. The contrast also exists in many other characters, and is sometimes fluent, depending on comparison and on whether they’re main or secondary characters.

The comparison holds more water when we look closer at the different characters. The traits shared by the “easy-path-characters”, henceforth known as EPC’s, are: privilege, playfulness, charm and wit to match the lady’s, impulsiveness and to different extents thrill seeking behavior, while at the same time avoiding confrontations with the heroine. The wealth or materialism is important because it provides the comfort of the easy existence available to Midge, Lorelai and Rory, but there are always strings attached, usually a demand that you compromise part of yourself.

The EPC’s might have an inflated ego or at least a sense of entitlement, paradoxically paired with a low sense of self. This seems to derive from being raised in the lap of luxury while being treated like a mere part of a fancy exterior. They are tied up in tradition, family, and walking their own paths, would be at the expense of their privilege. They have been taught that they are nothing without it which leads to a perpetual sense of being worthless outside that very specific context. This makes them incapable of fully appreciating the impact they have, or could have on the heroine’s life which means that they instead wind up failing her in some way.

All EPC’s also supply gateways to tradition via marriage. Something the female leads share an aversive attitude towards, for different reasons, in this respect Midge is something of an anomaly because she starts out exceedingly happy in her gilded cage, but outgrows it as the series progress. The marriages depicted as positive or lasting in the stories always consists of a careful and complex balance between the spouses, and is not static, but a living, breathing, changing thing of its own.

Let’s take a look at the other end of the scale, the “right-path-characters”, henceforth known as RPC’s. Their shared traits are anti-social behavior, different degrees of unpopularity, low social status and lack of wealth, or in Luke’s case an unwillingness to flaunt it. All of these “lacks”, self-chosen or otherwise, signals an indifference to public opinion, that in turn may be translated to strength, or ASP’s idea of it, a form of incorruptibility. They share harsh backgrounds, with absent or incapacitated parental figures forcing them to make their own way from early on, and to protect, sometimes viciously and unwarranted, themselves. Their personal integrity is strong, their endurance high. They are aware of how little they matter, their insignificance, in the grand scheme of things, but know, or learn, that they at least can change things for themselves and for the people they care about.

And that’s another thing: words and actions. The RPC’s will use words carefully or remain silent, they will often let actions speak for them instead – making them an interesting contrast to the always chatty heroine. Honesty is important, even when it’s harsh. These characters make it clear that the approval of others doesn’t matter, meaning that the things they do say can be trusted.

“You have to pick your friends as if there’s a war going on!” Abe says moments later in the aforementioned scene, another testament to the choices ASP might have her heroines make at the end of the day. Trust is vital, and betrayal is unacceptable. But not that our heroines don’t try to accept, forgive and love. We, as viewers do that too. We try.

Lorelai’s and Christopher’s backstory is the very thing that both makes you root for them and simultaneously see how hopeless it is. On paper it looks great, same wit, same world, a child together, and you could base the fall of Christopher on plenty of things from the original show, if you wanted to. But I won’t get into those now, mainly because the ship has sailed, or sunk, if you will, before we even meet him. He’s not around, he hasn’t been around, and even though he has a good enough excuse - he was a kid – he is a father that in a best-case scenario will have to play the role of step dad to his own child, because he wasn’t there. The last we see of him is in the revival; He’s been swallowed by the business he didn’t want to go into, by a family he didn’t want, and by oblivion, when his daughter asks him not to come to Lorelai’s wedding. It is sad.

Looking at Joel: He’s a klutz, not realizing what he has in his great wife, taking out his failings on her, he’s ignorant as to his role and responsibility in his own life, and lacks the ability to foresee what his actions will do to both him and his family. None the less, we as viewers see him with the eyes of Midge and might find him endearing. However, the match is impossible. The balance between them is off. She’s so much, as Joel himself notes, he is so little, because of the rash, and childish decisions he’s made so far, and the only redemption arc available to him is realizing and accepting that he is inadequate. He and Christopher have an eerily similar arc in that respect.

The strength it takes to go out on your own, to follow your own path, is a reoccurring theme in these shows. Independence is paramount but not an easy choice, all our heroines face this, as well as the EPC’s, and RPC’s, but with different results.

It is worth noting that all of the EPC’s double as romantic options, whereas the RPC’s don’t, necessarily. Even though Luke is endgame, there’s a romantic history with Jess, and a hinted undertone romance with Susie (people referring to her as Midge’s boyfriend, as well as season one’s final show-down being between her and Joel), the RPC’s mainly supply support in areas where our heroines doubt or have lost confidence in themselves, functioning as guides of sorts allowing the heroines to thrive from the interactions.

The point might be that women often are taught define themselves from their romantic lives, something men are rarely expected to do to the same extent, and that the only way to be whole is to figure out who you are, and what you’re capable of without some other half. Seems basic enough, but it is a lesson worth repeating. And if you should opt for the romance after that, ”you want a husband who’ll take a bullet for you!” Abe says.

#meta #gilmore girls #the marvelous mrs. maisel #potential spoilers #comparative analysis #possible gibberish #literature

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