#[truly this filler episode gave me everything i didn't know i needed]

[arthurtaylorlester]

malevolent season 4 was... something, that's for sure

i want to preface this by saying i LOVE malevolent as a show and this is no means an attack on the creator or anything like that, i don't think i'll ever stop listening halfway, no matter how i feel about it. i'm not saying season 4 is all bad either.

it is a deviation for malevolent, though i found it VERY well written up until part 31 (and part 31 is my favourite malevolent episode ever)

s4 started off really strong for me, part 29 set the tone really well, much lighter after s3's emotional lows. the butcher was an interesting enough new villain to put yarson aside for now. part 30 had some charming moments, but the real star of the early season was part 31, a truly incredibly written and directed look into arthur's psychology. it truly gave us everything, from lore to highly comedic moments (to me)(no because why was arthur dreaming of waking up next to a shirtless man who tried to kill him)

parts 32 through 34 i'm not sure about, but i can write them off as awkward mid season points. part 34 was an interesting shift in perspective, but here is where my doubt's about the season's villains started rising

but the oscar & scratch arcs.... guys i'm gonna be honest, i might be oscar's #1 hater

scratch and oscar in this season were functionally useless filler. it's not unusual for arthur and john get sidetracked during their missions, but it usually ends up leading them right where they need to be by the season finale. this felt like a parenthesis that killed any tension created by the butcher.

this season had, quite unnecessarily, 3 antagonists. now this wouldn't be a terrible idea, had they been established before. but no. for some reason it was chosen to leave the only villain we could genuinely be afraid of alone, in favour of introducing not one but two antagonists yet to be established. neither because of this have the adequate fear factor (the butcher is better about this) and both get the most abysmal ends i could've imagines. what do you mean scratch is just gone like that after causing some emotional conflict with his deal. what do you mean the butcher was KOed by the fucking priest with a bedpan? what? that's it? you expect me to be scared or even care about the butcher now?

speaking of the priest. i want to like oscar i really do but. he's a terribly written character. we get to know him while arthur is teaching john intimidation tactics so out of gate our initial impression of him is as someone meek. and then in part 36 after "sorting out" the butcher, oscar just dumps out his trauma point blank to someone he's spoken to a handful of times in the past 3? 4? days.

malevolent in general has a bit of an exposition problem, but it usually works out if it's john expositing because. that's literally all he can do. but when a character with more agency do it, it makes them flat. oscar didn't have to tell us all that, he didn't have a reason. arthur confessing to 7 murders isn't a prompt to make himself vulnerable like that. i did not start caring for him, just because he had a tragic backstory. that's... not how you get someone to care about a character. oscar could be defined as a static character, and while it's not too unusual for a static character to be the focal point of an arc, i don't think it works the way most authors think it does.

also the worms in the farm only happened because of him messing with the stove so like. that's not helping his case.

the completely unnecessary farm arc concluded, we return oscar to the hospital, with arthur caving very quickly to john's demands if he truly cared about oscar so much. and so, a single episode before the finale, we get properly acquainted our main ally for the showdown. a choice definitely, but i feel like this one worked out pretty well considering noel had time to simmer before we got know of his past + he had interesting conflict with john and arthur.

and then there's the big one, the thing that appalls me entirely. leaving larson and yellow, the main villains of the finale COMPLETELY alone until the very end. why? why would you choose to not use them earlier? we spent so much time away from larson, so we weren't really as scared of him as we were at the end of part 28 (i literally was listening to the last 15 minutes of this ep on my toes because i thought he might do something) and we had had no CHANCE to even fear yellow, since we knew nothing of his power?

and what, the butcher is on our side now because noel granted his release? just like that? i know he's a contract killer but arthur insulted him to his face, he can believe they understand each other but did he feel no anger?

the finale did well, considering the context it was given to work with, though i did not understand the point of the memory thing... that didn't go anywhere? because not arthur nor noel actually lost anything. we don't know what the box was for, we only know some guy wrote "the birth of my son" on slip of paper and put it in. arthur assumed it was a memory, when it just as well could've been a literal offering, arthur assumed it would involve losing said memory, and they assumed it was related. initially i thought it would only go through if the ritual took place, which, it didn't. but reading back here is no further clarification on it. hold your angst horses, blindfaith enjoyers

i feel like john physically manifesting, if now an established power of his, was very cheap. unless it was a one-off, or some sort of power up, it just literally took away the main premise of the show. an all-powerful god rendered powerless by being stuck in some guy's mind and being forced to confront the troubles of someone infinitesimal to him. if you let him astral project and save people, then what's the point?

but i do actually think it was a one-off, so we'll see how it goes

simply put, john saving arthur when he jumped in s3 had more impact than this because he did it with a single, human, hand. no magic.

it was pleasant to have kayne and his expected chaos back, jarring as always. john's deal was exactly what we all thought it was going to be, maybe more about himself than arthur, but i don't think anyone can fault him for that.

one things though, and this questions may just be me not remembering, is arthur supposed to know that yellow is a separate entity from john when they realise larson has him in his head? because i remember arthur just assuming that 'yellow' just had all of his memories returned in part 23, and therefore not knowing that he's a separate guy from john.

just in general, i feel like s4 had a LOT of good ideas that weren't given enough room to breathe and therefore weren't written very well that really weighed down my enjoyment of the season. that's not to say there weren't things i liked. the emotional moments hit just as hard, like reconciling with daniel, the comedy was on point (genuinely this season was so funny) and even the most out of pocket thing arthur has ever said, calling john a child, no matter how much discourse it caused, was actually sort of in character for him? i mean arthur is an asshole so like i get why his immediate reaction to his severely emotionally unintelligent friend being possessive is babying him. they're awful people. they deserve each other. it made somewhat sense in retrospect.

all this to say, while i didn't hate s4, i think it had a lot of writing issues, especially when comparing it to the other 3, and it could've been done WAYY better but hey we all have our moments.

i await anxiously intermezzo's public release and the rest of season 5 👀

[panharmonium]

now that tumblr automatically forces an op to see your tags, i don’t like rambling to myself about unrelated fandom stuff in the tags of posts that aren’t mine, BUT i also hate not being able to finish my self-indulgent thoughts on whatever fannish nonsense pops into my head, so re: this image from earlier (source):

the point i was trying to make -

- is that sasuke is a cat person, and the chart above is definitely another one of the diagrams he drew during Unofficial Therapy

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 31

First time reader click here

it's a mental breakdown *off-key kazoo*. One (1) incident of physical abuse from a parent. And Stephen Strange arc begins opening. Kind of angsty, but more of a filler chapter to resolve the parents-suck thing.

A couple of days was all it took for me to get back on my feet... Figuratively speaking. Neither Bruce nor Tony was particularly excited about me being up and about, I was carried to my desired destination point by one or the other on most occasions. Physically, my body grew tired very easily - I took a lot of sporadic naps throughout the day, more often than not falling asleep in someone's arms. Nobody minded, really - even Loki, who wasn't a touchy-feely person by any means, relented and acted as a body pillow for me when we crashed on the common room couch to catch up with the TV show episodes I'd missed.

Tony was very obviously on the verge of a nervous breakdown. During the few hours I had spent being chased by the Cursed Box Demon in my nightmares, all the leads towards the contractor proved to be cold. Natasha was the most irritated of them all - a late-night talk with Clint through the vent above my room revealed that she took it as a personal insult, unprepared for a simple merc to be so good at evading the world's most notorious spy.

Hulk kept taking over Bruce's body - eyes shining fluorescent green - at the times we were together, periodically clutching me to his chest with clumsy but careful movements. I pitied the mercenary should he encounter my gentle scientist - I didn't think Bruce would even attempt to hold back Mean Green. They seemed to have achieved some sort of symbiosis those days, switching between the two personalities in one body almost effortlessly. Circumstances aside, I was very happy that the tension and the persistent internal conflict inside Bruce had almost disappeared.

What made me upset was Strange. The sorcerer was behaving, well, strangely. He began avoiding all of us - his excuses of helping the search for the merc were flimsy, and Wong's long, deep sigh, when asked about the sorcerer's state of mind, spoke volumes. I suspected Stephen was either seething with anger or drowning himself in the sea of guilt; I had a hunch he was similar to Tony in a way that he hid his vulnerability behind an impenetrable wall of malice and sarcasm and dry wit.

Perhaps I was wrong. But the pent up frustration resulting from the conflict between my overactive brain and my uncooperative body had to blow - and my mother was the fire to my already short fuse. Somehow, she got ahold of the information that I was hurt indirectly because of the actions of the Avengers - and she had called the first available phone she found, which meant Pepper Potts got an earful of vitriol regarding Stark Industries, SHIELD, Tony, and everyone else, including my father. Stoic as she was, Pepper took it all with grace, replying politely to my mother until she hung up on the redhead.

Pepper placed an urgent call to Coulson immediately after that, making the already uncomfortable situation spiral into something truly disgraceful. It ended with strict orders for me to return home - not that anyone besides me and Coulson knew about it. I was a legal adult, I could choose to stay in the tower and my mother was told so on numerous occasions... Knowing her, I was well aware she wouldn't be above storming Tony's home with a small army of her lawyer friends.

Inwardly seething, melting with the anger sitting in the pit of my stomach like a sharp piece of ice, I managed to convince Tony to have Happy escort me home at the guise of gathering more necessities. Tony, being Tony, offered me to buy anything and everything I needed, but relented under my puppy-eyed pleading. It was getting harder and harder to lie to any of my men, the weight of it settling unpleasantly bitter on top of my already foul mood.

Happy grumbled in displeasure at being tailed by a nondescript black SUV - I knew SHIELD would have eyes on me 24/7 now, at least until they catch the rogue mercenary - but seemed to be happy at my general state of relative wellness in his own... Happy... way. Five-second side-grin and "Glad you're up and about, Princess," was probably the most I was going to get from the man who's nickname contradicted his personality. In my humble opinion, he should've been called Brick instead. He was built like a shit house, too.

The moment I stepped into the living room, wearing Wanda's spare sweats and Tony's hoodie, I took a slow look around the room and immediately knew this was it. Most of my anger had receded, courtesy of finally being able to get out of the tower and do something, but the ice in my stomach persisted. The smell of whiskey and cigarettes hit me like a wall, news playing on the TV doing very little to dissolve the viscid, tense silence.

"Sit down," My mother instructed me in the tone of voice she used on people in the courtroom - convicts, people who knowingly broke NDAs.

"I don't think so," I replied, refusing to give in to her bullying. I was being absolutely reckless, I knew it, and still it didn't stop me from standing up for my men. Logically speaking, it could have happened to me anyway, Avengers or not. The cursed box came along long before I'd even met Peter Parker or any of his rag-tag superhero friends.

"Fine," She turned around, steely eyes leveled on me. I was but a speck of dirt under her nails - for the first time in my life, I felt terrified of my mother. I knew what she was capable of. "Listen well, daughter of mine. I'm going to only repeat myself once," She started in that deceptively calm tone of hers. "You are to stop mingling with Stark and his... Company. Immediately. I do not want to hear any more of that Parker boy, either. You will not destroy your future and our family's legacy over some fling with a man twice your age. This little game has gone long enough and it's time for you to get back to reality."

The more she spoke, the higher my eyebrows rose. I was supposed to take orders from my own mother now? Something thin, something thin and crackling with electricity within me just snapped - like a live wire. The hairs on my nape stood up, goosebumps appearing all over my skin. "And what if I do not?" I asked, just as quietly.

I was not prepared for her reaction. One second, she was sitting on the couch and the other - my cheek was burning and my mother was standing over me, breathing the stench of alcohol and tobacco right in my face. I saw the whites of her eyes. "Then you are no daughter of mine. I did not raise you to be someone's cumrag and all this play-pretend scientist shit had to have ended in middle school. I hoped you'd grow up but apparently, you insist on being a baby," She was full-on screaming in my face, so rabid she was shaking.

All I could think of was... How wrong she was. How wrong she would be, her sad little world broken when she finds out just exactly how much I'm capable of. Long gone were the days where I timidly questioned my scientific contributions; thanks to my men - the same men she'd hated so much - I knew my value. I knew I could achieve the things that I wanted.

"If that is your choice, you have thirty minutes to get your shit and get lost. I will not have a whore of a daughter living under my roof," I had missed a good part of her rant; most likely, it consisted of nothing but meaningless insults anyway. After she'd finished, she gave me a shove towards the stairs.

It didn't bother me as much as it should, I think. My cheek smarted and somewhere deep inside, I knew that the eerie calm that had settled over me wasn't normal - on the surface, I felt only relief. The things I suspected all along, finally came to light - she didn't even perceive me as a human being, I was no more than a means to her end. A tool. A thing.

The waterworks started when I frantically shoved most of the shit I could fit in my three suitcases. Upset as I was, my scatterbrain did me a favor that time and I gathered most of the important things. Notebooks full of my research - projects that my mother had called a child's game, projects that could be patented in a week, add a tweak or two. With sudden clarity, I realized I needed none of her money. None of her... At all. In short, I was emotionally all over the place and at the end of it... None of it made sense.

I threw the credit cards with her name on them on the coffee table as I hauled out my suitcases, not sparing the bitch a glance. She was equally quiet, boring into my back with those steely eyes of hers. I felt my skin peel under her stare. In my distraught state, hauling and dumping the suitcases in my car was quick work. Detaching the house key and tossing the last things that connected me to her house on the floor at her feet was a spur of the moment decision; my mother was right, to some extent, and I still had childish tendencies. "You had no right to call yourself my mother in the first place. All you were was an egg donor with more money than you could make sense of. Enjoy your hoard, you damned dragon," I seethed, seeing her frozen in place with her arms crossed and chin held high.

Some part of me hoped she would apologize. That naïve, childish part - I knew my mother and I knew myself, and the trait that we shared was stubbornness. I sped out of the estate without ever looking back, driving aimlessly for a while until the honking coming from drivers around me began reaching alarming levels of volume; tears began flowing down my face at some point, all but obscuring my vision. I parked in the nearest place I could find, in front of a Waffle House out of all places.

Crying in a Waffle House parking lot, how pathetic was that. Logically, I knew at least five people had my back: Tony and Bruce, who surprisingly loved me back; Loki, who had become strangely clingy after my declaration - clingy in the best way. Together with Wanda and Peter, they made my heart warm and my eternally racing brain feel calm and safe.

I called my dad, he didn't pick up. I don't know what I expected of the man, but any and all remnants of my respect for him shattered, breaking into tiny little pieces as I helplessly banged my fists against the steering wheel in a fit of desperate rage. One look in the mirror and my already ashen complexion was made worse by red, puffy eyes and the blooming bruise on my cheek where my mother had slapped me. It was the first time she'd laid a hand on me; I wanted to throw up.

I sat in the car until my breathing slowed; completely and utterly clueless as to what to do. I had no home of my own, three suitcases worth of clothes and research that was useless without a lab to run experiments in, my car, and a small trust fund in my name. The recent incident with the curse box had left me mentally drained as it was, now, I could surely say that my head was empty: no thoughts.

And throughout it all, Stephen's avoidance crossed my mind. As if the self-loathing wasn't enough, as if my own blood, the people who were supposed to care for me, rejecting and ignoring me wasn't strong enough of a blow... The sorcerer's avoidance raised more anger within me. I didn't know why but the thought of him made me want to cry and seethe once again.

Logic gone out of the window, I typed in the Sanctum's address into my GPS with shaking fingers, figuring that if he wasn't willing to do the legwork, I will come to him myself and clarify things for all at once. The mixed signals were just a cherry on top of my sky-high problem sundae.

I banged on the door and it flew open immediately, a surprised sorcerer quickly turning concerned and panicky, noticing my general state of appearance. I was still wearing the same clothes and my hair was in disarray, my face looking somewhere between a coke bender and a manic episode.

"You," I stated darkly, taking a deep breath. "You need to tell me what the fuck is wrong with me and reject me, so I can move on already. And you," I poked the man in the chest, right above the fancy eye-shaped necklace, "Need to stop it with the mixed signals. Stop wallowing in self-pity. Whatever you are doing, STOP IT," My voice involuntarily raised in pitch from all those emotional rollercoasters I've been on that day. "Get back to being normal. Let me fucking live," I finished my tirade as the man stared at me, frozen and open-mouthed.

"I..." He stammered, eyeing me with concern. "What in the multiverse happened to you? What..?" He was so confused, pulling out his phone the moment I bailed my fists.

"My mother threw me out, my father doesn't give a fuck about me, apparently I'm a cheap whore with delusions of grandeur. You're avoiding me and everybody is waiting for me to blow up," I screeched, all but vibrating in my spot. "This is me blowing up. I want answers!" I demanded.

Strange recoiled from me, frowning and pocketing his phone. A deep sigh left him, the kind that made his whole body sag. He ran a careful hand through his hair before looking away and slowly pulling me against his chest, the door shutting behind me and keeping the cold out. I hadn't even noticed I was freezing; my feet were wet from the NYC winter slush and mud.

Stephen's embrace was warm and tender; I wanted to lean into it and push him away at the same time. I was so messed up, it was embarrassing. There was nothing acceptable about this situation - I felt guilty as soon as his face fell.

"Jesus Christ, baby," He mumbled quietly. "Sounds like you had one hell of a day. Let's go, I'll put on some tea," He rubbed soothing circles on my back, something that confused me - I just had stormed in and dumped a bucket of bile right on top of his head.

"I should go," I mumbled, yet had no real strength to move away from him.

"You're not going anywhere. I suppose I need to explain myself, too," He sighed, and despite his obvious discomfort, picked me up, letting my limbs to wrap around his torso like a monkey. I was careful to keep my weight off his hands, even if the trip to the fireplace room was short. As soon as I was placed onto the couch and my shoes were removed, Cloaky drifted over from a dark corner, urging me to take off my soggy hoodie, and wrapped itself tightly around me.

Turns out, semi-sentient cloaks were quite warm.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[jewvian]

I really wanted to defend the killing eve finale, and the entire fourth season, but I really can't. Like the ending was beautifully done, but why was it done? What was the point? The season left me so confused and I'll definitely need time to think it all over and dissect every scene. But what I do know is that this was not the crazy, unpredicted (in a good way!!) weird, little show I fell in love with and was hooked on for so many years.

I welcome twists and I'm mostly against fanservice and giving the audience what it wants, and in the process ruin the integrity of the show you created. Somehow, killing eve managed to do both in the worst way possible. They gave us the bigget (and the cutest tho, I won't lie) fanservice they could possibly come up with, and then shat on both the fans and the legacy of the show by introducing a crazy twist that... wasn't actually one? Or was rather poorly done? I'm still processing, excuse me. But instead of a fun twist to gasp at, all I let out was a groan. Which is not a good reaction, unless you were aiming for your audience to groan, and I don't think they wanted it. But it happened.

Carolyn being the giant big brain meme behind everything? Awesome, truly. I still don't know if she tricked eve into thinking the meeting was really somewhere else and protected the 12 by having villanelle murder a bunch of innocent people, or if she wanted to get rid of both the 12 and villanelle and fooled everyone. Again, I'm still processing.

That could have been a great twist a season ago. Or better, if we had another season in the making. A huge cliffhanger before an epic last season to tie it all up, because season four just left (in my opinion) many loose ends. But as the official final ending for the entire show? I don't think it worked. Again, I groaned.

Will I change my mind after my initial anger? Maybe. Will I watch the show again in its entirety to piece together the puzzle and be more prepared for the finale? I wanted to, really. About 40 minutes or so into the episode I really wanted to do that. But with that permanent ending we got? No thank you, I reckon.

I think I'm mostly upset cuz it feels like a wasted season, a filler. A filler before the actual ending, and not the ending itself. So much is left unknown and unresolved, but not like in a fun, open ended finale where you still get a sense of accomplishment to some degree. We got nothing.

There were always the discussions on why it's called killing eve, like what's the meaning of that phrase. What are we killing? In what way? Some thought it's the literal meaning, that eve will die. Villanelle or the 12 will actually kill eve and that's it, we kill eve. Some theorized on the more figurative aspect, where eve is alive but the "old" eve is being killed slowly each season. This season really established that I think, we saw eve being transformed into... A new version? Or was it a hidden version that had to be brought out? You decide.

But in the end we got a new option; Eve actually died. Figuratively still, yes, but it wasn't any "version", it was all of eve. Everything that was eve died in the cold water of the river Thames, together with villanelle, with the 12 (the idea of them, not just their bodies), with everything eve thought she knew or didn't know, together with her journey and revelations.

Eve actually died, and with her the show died as well. They basically killed killing eve.