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greyeyedmonster-18 · 3 years ago

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mercy pt. 6

What would you do for someone you love? Would you lie for them? Steal? Would you kill for them?

(a story of seduction, sin, and crime in six parts)

disclaimer: i apologize for everything you are about to read and take full responsibility

part 1-5 here

“Can you please tell us what happened, Mr. Black?”

“I-I-wish I knew. I-is this how I’m going to spend the rest of my life? Wondering what happened to my wife?” Sirius stammered out, hands shaking as he gripped a cup of tea in the hospital waiting room, police surrounding him.

“Just tell us what you know, Mr. Black.”

“I came home with Harry—we spend Thursday nights together, it’s our little tradition, gave Petunia time to relax, take a bath have some time for herself—and when I went upstairs, noticed the bath was overdrawn. The carpets were wet and-and, oh god,” Sirius choked out, looking down at his hands, “I opened the door to the bath and there she was.”

“What time was this?”

“About 7:30.”

“And what happened then?”

“I hoped she was just knocked out,” Sirius said, “There was so much…so much blood. I called for the paramedics immediately, maybe they could do something? But I don’t know…it was too late…I-I don’t know anything else. I…That probably doesn’t help.”

“We’re sorry for your loss, Mr. Black. That’s all we need from you. It…was a tragic accident.”

Sirius looked up at the policemen, “That’s…it?”

“We needed a statement for the records, but there’s nothing to be done, Mr. Black. I wish you and your son well.”

Sirius watched the policemen walk out the double doors of the hospital.

How long was the appropriate amount of time to fake cry in a waiting room for your dead-pseudo-wife? If he left too soon would it be suspicious? If he stayed too long would it look like overcompensation?

The authorities were gone. Petunia was dead, her body already covered in a sheet and Sirius had signed whatever paperwork he needed to sign.

Harry was at Number Four Privet Drive, with wet carpets and a bathroom covered in blood from where Petunia had slipped.

Slipped on the water getting out of the bath.

An accident.

Her head hit the side of the sink as she fell.

Another accident.

Oops.

Sirius sat in front of the desk at the ministry of magic, Harry next to him, legs swinging from the chair as more paperwork was rifled through, the two of them waiting for some worker to return. It had been easier than Sirius thought, introducing Harry to a brand new world of magic. It had been…simple enough, to convince Harry to leave Number Four, and move into Number 12, not even blinking when Remus was there as well.

“So, I just…live with you now?”

“We have to sign some papers, kind of like how we did with your aunt? But over in the magical world.”

“Are they magic papers?”

“They are,” Sirius grinned, “They glow when everything’s complete.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“Brilliant!”

“You know…you don’t…have to live with me, Harry,” Sirius told him, even if inside he hoped that Harry would agree to that as well; hoping he had been able to establish enough of a relationship with the boy that living with him wouldn’t be so…strange.

“No one else wants me.” Harry shrugged, “I dunno where I would go. Do…you not—”

“I want nothing more than to stay with you, Harry,” Sirius said, turning his head to look at his kid, reaching a handover and putting it on top of his knee gently to stop the fidgeting, “For however long. As long as you want. Just…you and me, kid.”

“What about the magic school?”

“You’ll go there, and…I’ll be there to pick you up on holiday's. And we’ll get a tree, and we’ll go to the seaside and make sandcastles and—”

“Can I ride on your bike?”

Sirius laughed, “Yeah, I’ll teach you to ride eventually. When you’re a bit bigger, I think.”

“Just..us?”

“Mhmm. Remus too. Is that okay?”

“That’s…that’s okay.” Harry nodded, “Thanks for asking…if it was okay, I mean.”

“With me, you get choices. I promise.”

“Why are you so nice—” Harry’s voice was cut off by the door of the office opening once more, a ministry worker appearing with a file of paperwork and a bright smile.”

“Let’s get this sorted, shall we?” she said, with an air of finality, as she opened the file.

Several signatures and explanations later, things were signed off on, Sirius for once thankful that wizarding laws pertaining to childcare, outside of blood magic, were fickle and flawed. Muggles certainly didn’t have it right when it came to household tasks or money storage—a bank account that anyone could just access if they knew your birthday?—but seemed to have protocol right for keeping children safe, Sirius recalling the interview he had to partake in when he legally adopted Harry in their world. But this was over with a wave of a wand, and Sirius and Harry walked out of the office together, returning back to Number 12.

Where Remus was waiting, pumpkin juice and chocolate cake ready in celebration.

Joy to be found in the midst of heartache, supposedly.

The silver lining.

Days later, the wards at Number 12 buzzed with magic, someone coming to disrupt the peace that had settled amidst the grief. Something that looked like buying Harry new bedsheets and letting him pick out the color for his room; giggles at muggle television shows that he wasn’t allowed to watch and far too much indulgence of ice cream (which was often not run by Sirius at all and was a side-effect of living with Remus Lupin). Sirius went to the door, wand in his hand, half of his mind still waiting for the other shoe to drop, even if he knew and he did know, that there was…nothing to be done.

Death was final, after all.

“Albus,” Sirius said shortly

“May I come in?”

“No. What do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’re surprised to see me here?”

“Yes, actually. And without a casserole, nonetheless. Didn’t you learn any manners?” Sirius asked

Albus nodded, “I…am sorry for your loss, Sirius. It’s…quite the twist of fate, isn’t it?”

“Hardly.”

Sirius met his eyes, blue twinkling back into grey.

“Seems…this all worked out well for you, Sirius.”

“My wife is dead, I wouldn’t call that working out well.”

“I didn’t know you and Petunia were close.”

“Don’t pretend you know a damn thing about me.”

Identical words had been said 3 years ago when Sirius was first let out of Azkaban. When he was first cleared of charges and unable to take custody of Harry. Because Sirius was irresponsible, Sirius needed to get his own life together, Sirius didn’t have blood magic on his side. Sirius remembered looking at all the faces of the wizengamot; the minister; Dumbledore, all of them looking down so they didn’t have to look Sirius in the eyes. Because ex-convict or not, there was no safer protection than Black magic, and they all knew it.

“May I come in? To say hello to Harry?”

“No, you may not.”

“The truth will reveal itself, Sirius. It always does.”

“What exactly are you saying, Albus?”

“The��coincidences are…peculiar. You’ve been in the right place at the right time for years now.”

“They checked my wand.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

“I was bowling, with Harry.”

“I don’t doubt that either.”

“The only thing I am guilty of is love. I didn’t know that constituted a crime of passion.”

“Love makes us do the unthinkable, doesn’t it?”

“Do the unthinkable? Like what? Kill her husband and son so I could marry her and adopt Harry? And then kill her? Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? I’m trying to move on. I suggest you do too.”

“Sirius—”

“Have a nice day, Albus,” Sirius said, stepping backward and pulling the door shut, casting a few spells for good measure. He walked back down the halls of the house where Remus and Harry were sitting, reading a chapter book together, Harry looking at Remus with wide eyes.

“What did I miss?” Sirius asked, sitting down next to Harry.

“Only the best part!”

“The best part? Well, you have to read it again, Remus.”

“Who was at the door?” Remus asked

“Just…someone coming to pay their respects but…I told them we were okay. We don’t need anything, right?”

“I never want to eat pasta again,” Harry said and Sirius laughed wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulder.

“Well…you’re lucky I love you so much. I’ll do anything to make sure you never eat pasta again.”

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

“You were right,” Remus said, after Harry had gone to bed, tucked away in a bed at Number 12, the blood at Number Four Privet Drive still staining the bathroom tile. “How were you right?”

“I’ve been dating her. I married her. I knew everything about that woman. I made routines for that woman. Clumsy, isn’t she?” Sirius laughed, wiping a fingerprint off his glass.

“All I had to do was make a noise in the house..you extended the bathroom counter just the right amount and…she did the rest.” Remus held up his glass of champagne, “You clever bastard.”

“And the ministry will spend the rest of their lives trying to find out how I was involved…and they’ll find nothing.”

“Cheers, my love,” Remus said, and they hit their glasses together, toasting yet another successful murder.

#mercy #sirius black #petunia dursley #cursed bullshit #i am so sorry #murder husbands

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im-not-here-im-dead · 2 years ago

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hmm let's go with... Toriel? for the analysis thingy? :P

(also very tempted to ask about Berdly- and also asgore but-)

ask game

I’ll do Toriel first !

My overall opinion on the character:

Someone pleeeeease get this woman some therapy please stars I am begging you !

Okay but in all seriousness she goes through a whole heckin’ lot (and no one talks about it ???) like, she losses her kids, her husband starts a war she knows they can’t win without so much as consulting her (not to mention the possibility that the both of them could have lived through the previous war), she decides to flee to the ruins where she is almost completely isolated for who-knows-how-long, she develops a binge-drinking problem, she ends up losing six more children!!! And she does all that she possibly can (in her mind) to avoid losing a seventh. She’s even willing to sacrifice her life so Frisk can have a way to go home. I can only imagine how betrayed, how guilty, how miserable, and how hopeless she must have felt going through all that. She tries so so hard and still fails. Still makes mistakes. Still grieves the loss of eight children that she could have protected if only she was a little more watchful, or strict, or whatever. And I think that’s why she acts the way she does with Frisk. I think she’s a very complicated and tragic character (which I appreciate greatly) and I really hope that she gets a chance to heal from all the extremely traumatic things she’s gone through. And I trust that she will.

One virtue they have:

She’s just. Really freaking strong! Like in general. She’s a really determined and resilient person despite having gone through so much. It feels a bit… odd? to praise her for something that she had to be in order to survive/cope (I know I feel that way about a lot of my own attributes) but it’s something about her that I admire a lot.

One flaw they have:

She can be really strong-willed. For better or for worse. I think it was a major detriment to her during her time in the ruins, and I think it’s most evident when we try to leave the ruins. If she’d been more flexible or impartial, things might’ve gone down differently, but that’s not what happened. I don’t know how much of her rigid thinking can be attributed to personal flaw or maladaptive coping mechanisms, but either way, it’s something that she’s gonna have to work through. I dunno what else to say. This isn’t something that I’ve thought about a lot tbh.

Favorite moment from their arc:

I think in those moments between when we leave her in the ruins and when we see her again in the true pacifist route is where she truly shines the most. I could talk about this all day (if given the energy) but I think this post sums it up better than I could.

Least favorite moment from their arc:

The scene where she confronts Asgore in the true pacifist route -_-

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t exactly dislike that scene. For what it’s worth, it is funny. But that’s the problem. I think it would have been so much better if it had been a more serious and emotional scene and it could have really shown just how tragic their estrangement was. How they once loved each other more than life, and now they can hardly bear to look at each other. I also think there would have been less mischaracterization of the two in fan works with Asgore being overly clingy and Toriel being overly mean-spirited if things had been done differently. But oh well. It’s not like you can change canon anyway. That’s what fanfic is for after all ;}

One relationship they have with another character:

Her friendship with Sans makes me melt TvT

They just click so well with each other. And I think, in a way, they’re kind of what the other needs. A companion they can confide in and share a good laugh with and a reason to keep going/get better. They’re so. Great. They’re great. Their interactions are so wonderful to hear about. I think they should start a prank war. They would absolutely start a prank war.

One relationship I’d like to see explored with this character

I’d like to see more of her and Flowey! He obviously cares about her at least somewhat. Maybe she’ll eventually find out who he used to be, or maybe she never will. Either way, things will never be the same between them, but I’d really like it if they started to form a new sort of mother-son relationship. Mostly I wanna see all the twists and turns and things that their dynamic takes.

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media

Honestly, I just wanna see her. I wanna see her being happy and being herself. I think she deserves that.

I’m gonna put the other two under the cut :]

Next up, Berdly !

My overall opinion on the character:

When I first got into deltarune, I unfortunately jumped on the bandwagon trend of hating him for no reason ☠️

But that changed soon after chapter 2 came out. I think he’s a really fun, delightfully obnoxious, and surprisingly relatable character. What more can I say? He’s like a little brother to me :>

One virtue they have:

He really cares deep down. We see it in the neutral route where he overrides Queen’s mind-control and fries his wing to save his friends. We see it in the weird route when he drops the act and puts himself on the line the moment he notices that Noelle is truly in grave danger. If we squint, we can see it in every route when he talks about and interacts with Noelle. Sure he’s extremely annoying about it a lot of the time (most of the time actually) but he really does care about her a lot. He cares.

One flaw they have:

He’s really self-centered. I don’t necessarily mean in the self-important way. I mean in the has-a-hard-time-taking-other-peoples-perspectives-into-account kind of way. He frequently talks over Noelle. His rivalry with Kris seems to be pretty one-sided. He’s at least partially aware that Queen does not want him around and still tries to kiss up to her anyway. Instead of asking people what they think, he assumes based on his own narrow frame of reference, which causes him to have a lot of very awkward and unpleasant interactions. It seems to put a lot of strain on his friendship with Noelle as well. To me he seems like what a younger Papyrus who never got proper support might have been like :( Let’s hope he’ll learn some gosh dang communication skills! But for now, I suppose we can appreciate the character development he’s gotten so far.

Favorite moment from their arc:

I think the bluebird of misfortune sequence was really. Yeah. I didn’t know what to make of it at first, but now when I look back on it, it’s such a sincere moment of vulnerability and accountability. Course, he still has a lot to learn and things to work on, but it’s a start. I’m really proud of him for opening up like that. That takes guts.

Least favorite moment from their arc:

“If I can’t base my entire identity around being smart anymore, I guess now I’ll base my entire identity around being stupid!”

Buddy. My dude. My guy. You missed the whole friggin point !!!

Well, I guess I can’t expect him to do a whole one-eighty just like that. But still. Urrg! I think it’s another one of those moments where I feel like it might have been a lot better if it was taken more seriously instead of being unnecessarily played for laughs, but it’s fine. It’s fine and it’s funny! Aaah!

One relationship they have with another character:

His friendship with Noelle is so… ;-;

They study together. They play video games together. They feel like they can be the most themselves around each other. They’re terrified of letting each other down. They’re attached at the hip. They drive each other insane. They’re inseparable. They care about each other so much and they’re always there for each other no matter what. They’re besties.

One relationship I’d like to see explored with this character:

I’d say him and Kris, but that’s too easy. I’d like to talk about him and Susie! I think they have a lot in common. They would absolutely be the kind of friends who are constantly (playfully) butting heads and roasting each other. They know it’s all in good fun, but maybe once in a while, one of them might go a bit too far and the other would lash out and they’d both feel really crappy about it, but they’ll make amends. They always do, and their friendship grows stronger for it. They also would do a bunch of ridiculous daredevil stuff together. Sometimes Kris joins if they feel like it. It’s hard to say whether Noelle or Toriel has gotten more gray hairs from these two heeheehee

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media:

I wanna see him let loose! I wanna see him just being a kid and not feeling like he needs to put up a front all the time. I want him to be able to just relax and have a good time. I want him to take a freaking nap.

And last but not least, Asgore !

My overall opinion on the character:

I think Asgore’s story is a heart-wrenching one that is (besides the one scene) wonderfully written, and one that is sadly under-appreciated. My feelings about Asgore himself are a wee bit complicated, which makes sense as he is a complicated individual. To put it briefly, he makes me feel a lot of feelings, and I mean A Lot. He’s a guy with a big heart who went through tragedy after tragedy and a kind ruler who cares so so so much and that’s exactly what led him to do awful things that I can’t ignore even if I wanted to. He loves flowers. And gardening. And tea, and puns, and floral-patterned shirts. He’s gentle and patient and soft-spoken. He’s such a goddamn pushover. He’s worryingly prone to denial. He’s so painfully self-aware to the point of self loathing. He’s a misguided and incredibly traumatized old man who wants only the best for those he cares about and thinks only the worst of himself. He did every single bad thing that he did, and he is not a ‘bad person’. I care about him a whole dang lot. I guess cause a lot of what he goes through hits surprisingly close to home. Not everything of course, but some things. Particularly feelings of profound hopelessness and self-hatred. In my mind, if there’s hope for him, and there is, then there’s gotta be hope for me too, right? And that means a lot to me.

One virtue they have:

His tender-heartedness. He regularly visits his people. Teaching kids how to take care of flowers, dressing up as Santa for Gyftmas, giving his friends cups that look like them, things like that. He gets nicknames like ‘King Fluffyboy’ and ‘Big Fuzzy Pushover’ without any kind of animosity behind them. In a no mercy run, when faced with an entity who will most certainly end his life, he offers them tea. And in a neutral run, when spared by the person who brought him to his knees, he offers them a place in his home. Beneath all the terrible decisions he has made and the tragedies he has endured, he really is a big softie with a big heart, and that’s what I appreciate most about him. Complexities.

One flaw they have:

While Toriel is strong-willed to a fault, I think that Asgore’s fatal flaw is his passiveness which stems from his indecisiveness. When he finds himself in a difficult situation, he’s paralyzed by his doubt and apprehension. And he just. lets things happen. Even when the world is ending, he remains in standstill. To be fair, the situation he’s put himself in is a very difficult one, to put it mildly. He’s working with what he has. I highly doubt I would have done better in his place. Sure, he might have handled things better in theory, but, well… that’s not what happened. His actions as well as his inaction had and will have grievous, lasting ramifications. And he knows that.

Favorite moment from their arc:

The moment where he destroys the mercy button. It’s such a phenomenal moment. It’s the moment where you realize that it really is kill or be killed this time. One of us has to die. And he does everything that he can (in his mind) to make sure that Frisk is not the one who dies, starting with showing them that giving him mercy is not an option. It gives me chills every time.

Least favorite moment from their arc:

Well, I already covered the scene where Toriel confronts him in the true pacifist route. I’d feel bad to leave this section basically blank, but the only other scene that I can think of that I could put here is not necessarily bad story-wise, but it is my least favorite because of how upsetting it was for me to witness. I’m still not sure if I’m ready to talk about it directly. If you’ve seen/played a route where neither you nor Flowey kills Asgore, then you already know what I’m talking about.

One relationship they have with another character:

Him and Undyne! I think their sort of father-daughter relationship is criminally underrated! He practically adopted her right after she had just tried to murder him! And then they bonded through combat training and tea making! And the way she looks up to him almost as a father-figure! It just! Ngaaaahhh! It warms my very soul TvT

One relationship I’d like to see explored with this character:

Him and Chara! The two were clearly very close. And then after everything that went down… well. they’re gonna have a lot to unpack. I think it’d be really interesting to see them together post true pacifist, each thinking that the other hates them. should hate them. But in reality, they just hate themselves. And they both blame themselves for everything that happened. I wonder if they’d slowly, tentatively talk it out over time, or if they’d avoid the inevitable and bottle it all up until they can’t anymore and have a very emotionally charged discussion that comes to a mostly healthy conclusion that isn’t perfect, but it’s a start. I dunno. I would also just like to see them gardening together

What I would have liked to see happen with them in the media:

I want to see him recover. I want to see him learning to forgive himself and let go of his self-hatred. I want to see him learning to love life again and I want to see him genuinely happy and content. Mostly I want to see him with an emotional support cat. He will have an emotional support cat.

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sexyzawas · 3 years ago

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Right so I'm obsessed with aro/ace spectrum Aizawa but also with Aizawa x reader sO

Imagine that you and Aizawa have been dating for awhile. The sex is fairly frequent and damn good. He was thirty years old when you got together, he doesn't seem shy about it, and again, he's good at it, so you always kind of assumed he had some experience.

And then, one night, cuddling in the immediate afterglow, it slips out that you were his first.

"I'm glad it's always been you."

His eyes remain closed and his hand strokes slowly, pensively over the gentle curve of your waist as his head seems to sink deeper and deeper into his pillow, cheek-first.

You, on the other hand. Your eyes are wide open, blinking at him with carefully muted shock.

"Shut up," you say in disbelief, and his pretty gray eyes flutter open directly into an irritated side-eye.

"What? It's the truth. Why, is there something wrong with that?"

You're ready and eager to tease him, but his soft-spoken question catches you off-guard and softens you, and the words die in your throat. There's something subtle in his expression and the tone of his voice that makes you think that he's a little bit hurt. That there's a part of him that does or did believe that there's something wrong with that. Wrong with him.

"Of course there's nothing wrong with it." You smile at him and press your hand to his cheek, smoothing over his stubble with your thumb. "I'm just surprised is all. You're handsome. Talented. Steadfast. Confident..."

Aizawa rolls his eyes, and takes over listing out some of his traits for you, much less generously, "Tired. Grouchy. Rude. Condescending..." He turns slowly, sorely from his side on to his back, a melancholy haze settling over his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling and continues, "... Depressed. And frankly, uninterested."

You sense that he has more to say, so you scoot up against his side, rest your arm over his chest, and fix him with a quiet, searching gaze. He sees that you're waiting, listening, and he sighs heavily, before elaborating.

"I don't know if it's a trauma thing, or a me thing, or what. I just never wanted it. Growing up, I was never interested in girls when my friends were. I thought, maybe, you know..." He frowns, clearly embarrassed talking in-depth about this, but also grateful to get it off his chest. "But I wasn't really interested in guys, either. My, ah... my one friend once told me I was probably a late bloomer, whatever that means."

The way his voice wobbles there, you can guess that friend was probably Shirakumo.

"Dunno. It irritated me when he said it at the time, but maybe he was right. Because being with you's been..." A gentle smile forms on his face. It's enough to say it all without words, the cloying feeling that floods his chest whenever he thinks about you and the course of his relationship with you. "I mean, you can probably tell I'm enjoying this. All of this. Trust me, it was a shock for me, too. How much I wanted it that first time. How much I've wanted it every time after."

"But you didn't even let me know...?" you ask gently.

Aizawa rolls his eyes at you, then throws his hands up by either side of his head in an exaggeratedly helpless and submissive manner, though his expression and his tone remain deadpan as he does his-- tragically, best-- impression of a shy, blushing virgin. "Please. Be gentle. It's my first time..."

Naturally, you laugh at his ridiculousness, nodding with understanding and pressing a tender kiss to his jaw to stop him shaking his head at you. "I get it. You didn't want to make it a thing."

"Right. You would've made it weird. I didn't want it to be weird."

You chuckle softly, your breath gentle and warm against his neck as you kiss him there, and mumble affectionately, "I definitely would've made it weird."

A comfortable silence blankets the two of you, until he threads his fingers into your hair and turns his head to look you in the eyes, tired and amused, and... vulnerable.

"So... your thoughts? What's my deal? Late bloomer? Extremely physically and emotionally detached? Low libido? What's the diagnosis?"

You gaze at him, pouting thoughtfully, taking your time with it. "I diagnose you... with Shota Aizawa."

"Christ. It's worse than I thought."

You laugh, but complete your assessment, unhindered, "I'm just saying, there's nothing wrong with you. There's never been anything wrong with you. You want it when you want it, and you don't want it when you don't want it, just the same as anybody else. The circumstances of when you do and don't want it aren't anybody's business but your own. You don't need to justify it, or even label it, if you don't want to. That being said?" You smirk, patting his cheek. "Probably demisexual."

"... I'll look up what that is in the morning." His eyes slip shut, and he snuggles his head back into his pillow with a sense of finality. He's too tired to bother right now, clearly. But he seems comforted.

#aizawa #shota aizawa #aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #aizawa x you #aizawa x y/n #demisexual aizawa #mha imagines #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x reader #aizawa imagine #mha aizawa #aizawa headcanons #kasha writes #is this... does this count as... my first mha fic...?#also ngl i am sooo projecting here #i am ace with an exception for aizawa and only aizawa #and frankly it was startling

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slightlyrebelliouswriter23 · 4 years ago

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Okayyy so your thoughts on the scene where jude was drugged with the fae fruit in CP, please?

Because I still don’t forgive cardan for not doing anything to help her? Like she was drugged, humiliated and like kinda sexually assaulted?! And he participated?! I dunno I still kinda hate him for that but I really want to know your thoughts, maybe I missed something...

okay a couple things: first, i have absolutely no interest in starting discourse on this subject. if you agree with me, great! you're welcome on this post. if you don't, keep it pushin this is not the ask for you. second, these are fictional characters. they don't have real feelings but people on the other end of blogs do. be gentle with one another please.

CW: DISCUSSIONS OF ABUSE AND ASSAULT.

I. In Defence of Cardan- motives, intent, tragic past, blah blah blah

i'm not really in the business of defending villains because 1) they don't need to be saved (that's the great thing about them) and 2) it's not my job to make everyone like them. but Cardan is a special case where i feel, if you approach what he did with only the outcome in mind instead of an attempt at understanding all of the pieces at play, you're going to hate him.

so let's clear the air.

i think it's an overstatement to say that he participated. participation is an active word, whereas what Cardan did, i see as more of a passive involvement. did he stop what was happening? no.

but he did stop Valerian from suffocating Jude. he did intervene when Nicasia told her to crawl to them (he told Jude to kiss his foot, but that was likely to save her from being further assaulted while under the influence). he did prick her finger so that she could sober up enough to protect herself while being alone in the woods with Locke.

in other words: he de-escalated the situation, but only when things started getting too dicey.

does he get brownie points for this? hell no. he still has A Lot of work to do to earn ours and Jude's trust at that point.

but in my opinion, he reacted to the situation in the only way he could while maintaining two important things (to him): the status quo and his control of the outcome. the former is selfish, but then again Cardan never claimed to be selfless. the latter is noteworthy because Cardan knew that what Nicasia, Valerian, or Locke could do to Jude would be so much worse than a bit of embarrassment at his hand. they were willing to go further. he wasn't.

what's more, if you've read HTKOELTHS, you'll know that Cardan feels helpless for a lot of his life. only wine and cruelty help control those uncomfortable feelings. why would he sacrifice that security for someone he doesn't really know, who has also made it a point to be a constant "thorn of iron" in his side?

II. Cardan Is Like.... Not A Good Dude?

i've said this before on here but i guess i should say it louder for people in the back: Cardan is not a Good Person! this isn't a story about a hero defeating the villain and claiming her morally pure love interest. this is a story about, to put it bluntly, a bunch of fucked up people doing really fucked up things either because they feel they have to or because they want to. and yes! it's fucked up. that's the point.

so Cardan didn't stop what was happening in the faerie fruit scene, but if he's not a Good Person, why would he have reason to?

apart from the fact that humans are always treated poorly in faerie, Jude is Madoc's treasured daughter. Jude is a human afforded all the luxuries of one of the fae Gentry, all because someone loved her enough to give her that, not because she had any right or entitlement to it. i see a lot of jealousy from Cardan in TCP, and this is one of the most obvious instances.

it's also heavily implied that Balekin, infamous mortal abuser, would beat Cardan as a result of Jude (a mortal) besting him. was this Jude's fault? absolutely, unequivocally NO. but it's easy to see how, if Cardan could not lash out at Balekin for beating him, the next best option would be to make Jude experience even a tiny fraction of what he felt she'd caused.

to Cardan, Jude doesn't know helplessness (even though we know that to be untrue). and i'll bet there was a part of him that, after months of not being able to get her out of his head, relished seeing her suffer a little at his hand.

III. Should We Forgive Him? (hint: it's about The Growth)

forgiveness is a very personal thing, and something not everyone can afford to give. but also, i don't believe forgiveness should be the main objective for moving past wrongdoings.

understanding is a much more achievable goal that gifts all parties, witness or involved, with a certain boon of distance. if we can understand why someone did a thing, we can better realise empathy for them without feeling the need to coddle their emotions—and without them feeling the need to further atone.

and if, at the end of all of this, you still cannot understand Cardan in this scene, then i will not be able to sway you.

either you're the kind of person that holds every action someone makes that you disagree with against them forever, or you're the kind of person that recognises personal reflection and development as a positive character trait that can outweigh past cruel actions, if the proper effort is put in.

for me, Cardan's efforts throughout the rest of the series proved enough to earn my trust. it's the Growth, your honours. it was very sexy.

–Em 🖤🗡

more on Mean Cardan

more theories & analysis

#not me simping for cardan on main 🙄#as per usual #simping for the simp: meta-simping. if you will #tw abuse mention #tw assault mention #tfota #jurdan #cardan greenbriar #jude duarte #the cruel prince #tcp #the folk of the air #holly black #tfota theories #tfota analysis #my analysis

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cavegirlpoems · 2 years ago

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in which i unpack my thoughts on netflix’s sandman.

So like, I read the sandman comics at a, uh, formative age. There was stuff in there that was, with hindsight, perhaps not great for a twelve-year-old to be reading but other bits were Big and Important and Shaped Who I Ended Up Being. Like with thirty years of hindsight we can find issues with how Wanda is treated, but for eggy twelve-year-old me, she was the first time I’d seen a trans person depicted as anything but a punchline or monster, and the last sympathetic trans woman I’d see in fiction for another decade or so. So that was a big deal. And like, there are characters in there who were a big fucking deal to me. Rose Walker and Thessaly and Lyta Hall were just... these were images of femininity that I could see myself in. They shaped me and my view on what gender *can be* and that influence has had knock on effects on the woman I ended up as. Also Merv is just fucking cool. Look at him. So I was a fan from a young age, and have remained a fan for a long time. This, I hope, should establish my credentials as an actual fan, since that seems to be a thing nerdy women need to do in order to be taken seriously when talking about Nerd Shit. Anyway. It’s my personal opinion that adaptations of things you love mostly suck. What makes it work in one medium will fail in another, and seeing the work you love distorted and contorted by the needs of the new medium will just make you see all the ways the adaptation fails. There have, in my experience, been very few cases where something I’m into has been adapted successfully. The first silent hill film was actually pretty good. The comic of Coraline by p craig russel is another, as was the stop-motion film, more or less. The first and third lord of the rings films. But these are exceptions. Often you can’t jam a book-shaped peg into a film-shaped hole, or what have you. So the fact that The Sandman - something that had been kinda formative for me - never got adapted - was considered ‘unfilmable’ even - that was comforting to me. I’d never be there being all ‘see how they butchered my baby’ with it like I was with the His Dark Materials film. And then it turns out that they were going to adapt it, and I got very very scared that they were gonna slice all of the queerness and angry feminity and pain - all of the stuff that made me care about it - out of it. So seeing that the casting etc was super fucking queer, and that Neil was afaict directly involved with stuff? That they GOT IT? That was comforting. Like I was sceptical, but hey, maybe it’ll be good? I don’t know, yet. I’ve seen netflix’s track record when it comes to finishing series it starts, and I don’t trust them. Once it’s complete, I’ll watch it, because starting watching something with that much personal emotional weight to it only to have it just stop in mid-flow isn’t something I’m willing to do to myself. But I’m confident! It looks good! I’m excited! Oh, but the fandom. The fandom response has been, I dunno. What I expected, but not what I’d have wanted. There’s shipping, of course. This is the first time I’ve been exposed to Fandom Culture interacting with something *I* cared deeply about. It’s a weird feeling. I mean it was inevitable. Morpheus is a skinny and angsty white boy who dresses weird. (except for the various times he’s not, but I don’t think those have come up yet from what I can tell). So, of course, one of the biggest fandom responses I’ve seen has been the desire to ship him with a man. For some reason, we just gotta get this twink a boyfriend. It’s not that there’s no gay characters to yaoi-fy in the sandman. The text is fucking crawling with gay stuff. It’s really incredibly gay. And like, I dunno how to explain this, but Morpheus is written... pretty het. Like, ‘Dream keeps falling in love with women and then treating them horribly’ is... it’s like one of the main plot threads. It’s not a side thing, it’s a centrel pillar of Why The Plot Ends Up That Way. These (universally tragic) straight romances are kinda central to his arc. *Speaking as a gay person*, not everything needs to be made gay, sometimes you can just enjoy a straight story for what it is. I quite like Love Is War, for example, despite the fact that kaguya is straight. i digress. And then the other character that seems to have really taken off is The Corinthian. Again, I suppose it was inevitable. He’s another skinny white boy, and this time he’s Dark and Scary and does Crimes. At least this one is actually textually gay. Still. Entirely predictable, and the fandom fizz is catering to an audience that I don’t share tastes with. They find men hot, for example. Not everybody is lesbians, though, I guess, and that’s not their fault. Death is a pretty fucking central character and her casting is *perfect* everything I’ve seen of her makes me go YES THEY GET IT. and I want to roll around in gifs of her being kind and cool and humane and just... nada. All the shit that *mattered* to me? That made me *care* about the sandman as a series? Well, most of those characters are women, and most of the ones that aren’t (Fiddler’s Green, Merv, and Lucifer) are fat, working class, and played-by-a-woman-in-the-adaptation respectively, so no yaoi for them. Like I was *shocked* not to see The Fandom Discussion about Lucifer. Turns out there was an unexpected but obvious reason why not. I suspect this is a relief. I’d hate to see Merv get Sans Undertale-ified. Please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t make Merv a sex symbol. It’d only go to his head. (obviously the fash are very angry that the adaptation has queers and non-white people and yucky girls in it, and whilst it’s very funny to see them angrily demand that it should stay faithful to the source material by not having gay stuff forced in, honestly who fucking cares what the fash think. they’ll get angry at a fucking yoghurt commercial. fuck ‘em. this isn’t for them, it never was, and they can choke on it and die angry) I dunno, though. The Sandman, as a series, is fucking full of female characters that are well-written and nuanced and explore different facets of femininity (particularly queer femininity), and I just... kinda don’t see that discussed as much. Maybe when (or if) netflix gets to volumes like A Game Of You and The Kindly Ones, we’ll see more of it. I don’t see much discussion of the cool weird mythological stuff, or the stuff with Lucifer and my Bad Bitch Mazikeen either. Fuck, I love Mazikeen. She is, so far, the only canon character in anything ever that I’ve done cosplay for. Her casting is perfect. I want mazikeen to step on me. I digress again. It’s just... weird, I guess. Having this series that’s been so personal to me and has so far flown so far under the radar of pop-nerd-culture suddenly be the topic of conversation. I’m part of A Fandom now, whether I want to be or not. And that’s... an unsettling feeling. I feel strangely alienated from something that I found formative. And like, I don’t wanna gatekeep, or say that the people discussing it aren’t Real Fans. That’s a shitty thing to do, and I’m pretty sure a good chunk of the people posting about the sandman are, like me, people who were invested in it years ago and are just taking the chance to talk about it now it’s in the zeitgeist. Go read the comics, they’re amazing. Order the whole lot to your local library, or buy ‘em if you’re rich. But in the past, the sandman was something that a tiny slice of queer nerdy art-crowd-kids were into. It was the Bauhaus of comics, y’know? And it suddenly blowing up and going mainstream is... It’s a lot to adjust to, I guess. So that’s what this post is, I suppose. Me vomiting all that out into a stream of consciousness weird-ass blogpost about my feelings about this. Fandom’s weird, y’all. I’m still excited to watch it. And if you haven’t read the comics, OH BOY OH GOLLY are you in for a treat. Just wait until they film The Kindly Ones and you’ll have rose’s little monologue about love and it’ll break your fucking heart. I hope it doesn’t get cancelled until we get that scene, and also the really touching scene where dream his big sister’s hand.

#sandman #the sandman #fandom shit #sandman spoilers

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violetlunette · 2 years ago

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I like Toga but DESPISE her writing.

Cause whenever i write her backstory and the first murder, its really difficult to keep it canon complaint.

Toga was made as a yandere in mind before everything so we don't know her hobbies, how she thought of her friends, what exactly her parents did to her - hell we don't even know if the bloodlust is an excuse everyone used to ignore her mental health issues since other characters with blood quirks don't suffer from the same issues!

Toga herself isn't allowed to care for her backstory! We have no clue on how the first murder occured or what led up to it. We have no idea of who she was before and how she would think of herself since we only learn from Curious.

Even when Toga's backstory is focused on, its still made to be about 'love' and other characters and how she feels about them! We don't see Toga beyond her 'love' and i feel like her saying this is her 'normal' is a coppout to avoid adding to her character.

Toga feels like fanservice to me and i hate it. She has an interesting quirk and her backstory could have been about discrimination and how the system failed kids like her. Instead she's a bloodthirsty yandere who wants to be free of the consequences of killing people and her backstory feels added on rather than a part of her character.

If i was writing her, i would either NOT make her a serial killer (seriously, she's a serial killer at 17!) and instead make her an assassian. The first murder is a tragedy from all angles and she feels super guilty but she still runs away as the media and police make it seem like a senseless killing caused by her quirk and not abuse. Someone finds her and manipulates her to kill for them and she develops a twisted form of love for them and instead of her falling in love and being a yandere for Uraraka and Midoriya, its them telling her that she's not in a healthy relationship AND can be more than a murderer (since she harbours guilt for her actions but is convinced this is all she's good for - afterall, that's what everyone has told her throughout her entire life) making their desire to save her make sense. She would be a tragic and still redeemable character then! Not a one-note yandere that seems to be pure fanservice.

Sorry for the long rant, I really like Himiko and i wish her redemption was set up better. She could have been an interesting commentary on how villains target those who society fails and how society perpetuates a self-fuffilling prophecy onto those with villanous quirks. Or hell, mental health issues being placed soley on quirks and every action you do linking back to your quirk thus showing how society is so obsessed with quirks that they overlook the obvious.

I agree with all of this except for liking Tago. I like her concept and the idea of her as a villain, but sadly the manga's writing ruined this for me. She did have potential, though. But I understand liking a character but hating how the writer handles them. (Hell, I could maybe make a list.)

There is an inconsistency in how quirks affect a person. Sometimes the manga says that it’s an offshoot of a personality. Other times it says the power is connected to a personality quirk (like Hizashi is loud, so his quirk is loud). It also plays with how much someone’s quirk affects them. Maybe it depends on the person, but I can't remember if it dived into it or not. I dunno. I’ll have to keep an eye open during my re-read when the manga’s done. I’m trying to wait till the manga’s done before I dive into Tago’s character. (But when it is, oh boy, am I going to have fun! [No, I won’t, but I digress.]) What I will say is that I’m not impressed so far with her writing. I don’t mind long asks/rants, btw. I find them informative.

#anti himiko toga #mha #bnha #anti toga #btw #I shouldn't have to say this but I don't hate Toga fans #I don't agree with them on most things #and I get annoyed at times #but I don't hate them #if you're polite I will talk and listen #though I will ask forproof if you're bringing plot points and such #same with other bnha characters #bnha meta #anti league of villains #anti lov

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greentrickster · 3 years ago

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@cawareyoudoin Man, I've been getting through the game too, and I just ache when I think how much the little Knight helped and befriended people, found their own kind of family, and no matter what, they will have to leave them to save them... What a tragic fate, from beginning to end. But hey, they got to experience the world, life, and much more than many could.

Yeah, I can see that perspective - I shared it when I started.

But, as I've gone on? I dunno... a lot of the deaths I can't prevent really hurt, but others... leave me feeling oddly hopefully? If this game has any message, then I think it would be "Things end, but it's only sad if they end prematurely, or without need." I adore seeing art, comics, and stories of Ghost surviving, but I don't think I'm going to feel sad when the game ends. More... I'm glad.

I’m glad that my friends will live and that, without the Infection’s awful presence and danger, perhaps Dirtmouth will get a chance to grow and become more as people start being able to enter and exit the well without it being nearly a death sentence. Perhaps more relic seekers will join Lemm in the City of Tears, or seek out the Nail Masters to learn. Maybe they’ll find the little bed of delicate flowers I planted by the grave. Maybe Hallownest will have a chance to live again, or else to become something new, building on the foundations of what was left behind.

How can I curse my birth, when it allowed me to see and do such wonders?

How can I curse my fate, when I have the chance to do so much for those I love by following it?

Hallownest’s story has been a tragedy, but I have the rare and precious chance to change that. And I would love to be able to exist past my ‘end.’ But I get to meet that end knowing, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I succeeded in my goal, and that this particular tragedy, at least, ends with me, because I decreed it so.

It’s been a long road, and a hard one (both in-game and out), and when it ends there’s every chance I’ll cry.

But I won’t regret that I followed that road, or the choices I made along the way. I’ll be glad that I chose to walk it. And can it truly be so tragic if that’s the case?

(...sorry, you apparently caught me in a philosophical mood. But then, that’s one of the joys of this game, isn’t it? It really makes you think.)

#cawareyoudoin #hollow knight #my thoughts #quest for the beard bug

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kachuuyaa · 3 years ago

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— TRAGEDY, TRAGEDY.

g.i oneshot , gn!reader , bsd!reader

genre ; fluff? angst? i dunno reader is alone though

includes ; mentions of death, gods, you are from the BSD WORLD?? SO TRUE!! reader is from port mafia, mentioned to be close w the double black, hints of chuuya being the love interest

synopsis ; The show is starting. There is no comedy in this world of tragedy, then, and now.

author’s notes ; WAHHH IT IS TIME!!!!! IT’S TIME IT’S HERE IT’S AN INTRODUCTION THOUGH, i’ll make the first meetings fic soon :)

Have the gods cursed you? You were given another chance in life, yet that isn’t what you wanted. Death came to you at such a young age (your life felt like a long, treacherous one even so), but you felt blessed, for the first time. Life in the Port mafia came with tragedies and betrayals, and all you wanted was an escape. All those memories, fresh in your mind, kept repeating themselves in the most vulnerable moments. You were alone, alone-- that word felt fresh on your tongue, foreign, even. How could you be alone when you were prominent to those against your organization? You were popular among them, being their target and a source of power. Surely, they would have laughed at your death, it would only be fair to consider it a victory, after all. Did the gods loathe you that much to give you a curse of immortality, one with all your past memories and abilities intact? Did the gods loathe you so? They have. In the beginning, all they wanted was human approval, yet you spoke words interlaced with spite and resentment.

You were alone. A wandering outlander; one who is reminiscent of the past. Many people have looked at you but not in the eyes, terrified at what you had to hide. You were silent, intimidating by nature. They were afraid of you, however, they couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Whispers and mentions of your name were heard throughout the most prominent nations, some even reached the ears of the divine, yet they paid no attention to such trivial matters, especially coming from mortals. Who would want to listen to such musings when they have earned the power to control this world, if you were a threat, you would be eradicated in an instant, no? You were but a mere mortal. Oh, how they wished they knew better. A wandering outlander-- dead in their own world and an outcast in the current one, should be deemed as a threat. Your power and your ability surpassed that of gods, and even though it was a curse, it was a blessing to those who utilized it well.

And while you haven’t used your ability in a while (and directly in front of individuals), you knew you were stronger than those who present themselves as gods. The archons, however, you couldn't care less about, for you only care about reuniting with-- with who? You were alone, for all the years you have walked this world that is still foreign to you, you have not felt a single familiar presence. You were completely alone; isolated, with no one to turn to. This was something entirely different from Yokohama, posters and warnings about you being spread among the townspeople were quite common in your world, really.

You were only noticed due to your somehow sinister and unnerving aura, being quickly feared by many. The cycle begins again, however, minus the tragic backstories. You were-- free. You haven’t felt free in a very, very long time. Death was an escape, a ticket to freedom, but at what cost? Freedom was obtained using sacrifices. Why would you have to live another life with freedom only to be stripped away from it once again? The gods have made decisions for mortals whose desires are not theirs to have, and if some were cursed, why should some be praised? Those sculpted by the gods gained approval and prowess of any kind, yet you-- you were cursed. You were designed intricately, beautifully by the king of gods himself, only to send you to a realm where none of them existed? Was this a cruel joke to you? Or was it retribution due to your unjust acts?

You didn’t care, though. You just want to go home. Do you even have a home? Somewhere to stay, to pour all your memories in? You don’t, do you? You’re dead. You don’t belong there anymore. You belong here, that is the punishment given to you. How ironic, a wandering immortal whose title does not fit themself has no one to turn to. No immortals do, anyway. As the gods have longed for human approval yet were prevented from speaking to such beings, immortals long for peace, tranquility while knowing even a second of that wouldn’t be enough for a long, long life filled with dread.

The phrase “I want to go home,” lands on your tongue quite often, yet you know, even though you hate to admit it, you do not have any. This world-- whatever this was, is not your home, nor will it ever be. Yet, why did you feel a sense of familiarity during your first meeting with the supposed “Outlander turned Honorary Knight of Mondstadt”? During the decades you have walked this earth, you have not seen an impact from a fellow outlander such as them. In different circumstances, where you actually cared for their crises, would you be in their place? It should be quite obvious. You were from the Port Mafia. Their executives were arrogant, powerful, and terrifying. Narcissistic, would be used to describe them as a whole. They weren’t entirely wrong, per se, however, deep in that never-ending, dark, hollow abyss of one, a blooming garden of emotions would be revealed. Under the seemingly unattractive shell you present yourself as, in the rarest of moments, you would be vulnerable.

You resort to repeating the actions you have done in the past. Gaining a negative reputation was what made you climb to the ranks of the Port Mafia, and even if there was no Port Mafia, no comrades insight, you would try to better yourself for the sake of the freedom you were generously given with your punishment. An immortal who is alone will never be remembered. Perhaps this journey would help you reminisce about the past in a positive manner rather than what you long for, no? You won’t replace them, no, never, you know it’s time to move on. And if the gods commend you for that, then, you will receive judgment. You were intelligent, a huge contribution to the Port Mafia as one of their most excellent members-- both in strategy and in combat. Decades of isolation have led you to be a one-person army, if you were as strong as a god then, you were as strong as the gods aspire to be.

A bird, specifically a Bohemian Waxwing, has landed on your shoulder. It was quiet, and it seemed like they did it willingly. Its most prominent feature was a highlighted orange streak across its head, reminding you of a very, very close, old friend. Its eyes held a familiar glimmer, as well. Thinking that your assumptions were far from reality, you decide to let it go, yet it remains persistent. Then, you decide to keep it, bringing him on your escapades. (you named him Nakahara, because of how much it reminded you of him. You were utterly speechless when you sensed content from its small figure.) needless to say, maybe your new biography wouldn’t be so boring.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact fics #genshin fics #diluc x reader #kaeya x reader #xiao x reader #dainsleif x reader #zhongli x reader #albedo x reader #kazuha x reader #childe x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact drabbles #genshin impact headcanons #mai-fics?!#bsd!reader

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autisticandroids · 4 years ago

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yknow those episodes where a character's whole personality gets split into 3-5 different distinct separate bodies? what bodies would cas have? I feel like it'd just be a mess tbh, imagine 5 different castiels all of them loving dean to a certain extent but showing it VASTLY differently. one cas would literally want to murder the others lmao

okay so i don’t actually think this trope would be an effective tool for analyzing cas? he’s not conflicted enough in himself. he’s too impulsive, too singleminded, too uninhibited. like, in the end, cas always ends up doing whatever he wants. there aren’t multiple discrete voices vying for control, really, or rather, if there are, one is always significantly stronger than the others. like in the end cas will always end up eating raw meat off the floor, you know? he’ll do what he wants. if i was going to do personality splitting i’d do it to someone intensely internally conflicted, like dean.

however, because i’m in an essay writing mood today, i’ll answer a question slightly to the left of the one you asked. cas may not be internally conflicted, but he is intensely changeable. these two things are related, actually; the same impulsivity and singlemindedness that mean he doesn’t have a ton of internal conflict at any given time mean that different ideas sound good to him at different times, because he isn’t really thinking about, say, what future-him will think of them. and he’s not really trying to maintain an image or identity. he’s just doing what feels right at the time, which is very different at different times and in different situations.

anyway, that in mind, i think a lot about ways to bring together many alternate versions of cas which sort of correspond to different times in the show.

i have a fic in my head about a bunch of cas-es pulled from alternate timelines by some kind of spell. so this would be set during the widower arc because the basic impulse here is to show dean a very bad time. just absolutely put him through hell. also, all the alternate timelines are different because different stuff happened, not because cas made different choices, because if we’re torturing dean it has to be like 5x04, the changes in cas can’t be cas’ fault. they have to be dean’s or just like, the universe’s (which makes them dean’s).

so dean is trying to bring cas back, and he finds some kind of spell that can bring someone “from another world.” and he tries it because hey. can’t hurt to try. anyway i’ve thought a long time about different versions of cas i would put in this and here is what i have. in order of when the timeline split off.

- a cas who never raised dean from hell. think 14x13 “lebanon.” this one i’m not too sure about, like, this could be fun, but i don’t know if it’s different enough from the next one. like this castiel would have lived through the averted apocalypse and subsequent general fuckery that happened as an angelic footsoldier, which would actually be pretty interesting now that i think about it, especially since all that stuff would have gone down soooooooo differently without cas specifically for your average angel footsoldier. like cas has PERSONALLY caused more upheaval in heaven in twelve years of spn than there seems to have been in millennia. so he would be the point of view of a normal footsoldier from a totally other world.

- a cas who died mid season four, and is pulled out of the empty in 2017 by this spell. i’m not sure when this cas died. my thoughts are (1) killed in on the head of a pin by alistair, (2) killed during his torture in the rapture, or (3) simply never resurrected after lucifer rising. (3) makes the most sense, but that cas has already thrown away everything for dean. i prefer the idea of a cas who loves dean, is already on the brink of disobedience for him, but has not yet taken the plunge. both on the head of a pin and the rapture are great places for this, and they both have strengths and weaknesses. if he died in the rapture, he was killed by heaven, which is fundamentally more fun, but he was also really very much over the edge already. if he died in on the head of a pin, he wasn’t killed by heaven, but he is perfectly teetering on the brink of falling for dean. regardless of when he died, the purpose of this cas is to be horrified at all the various and myriad ways he has destroyed and corrupted himself for dean in the other timelines.

- possibly endverse cas, who would have died in 2014, but like s4 cas, would have been pulled from the afterlife by the spell. i’m not so sure on this one. we as a society love endverse cas but i dunno what purpose he would serve. maybe endverse cas didn’t die in 2014, and instead was imprisoned by lucifer, because, you know. he’s the only brother lucifer has left. so he is very excited to see dean alive and well, since his dean is dead, and, not being an angel, cas can’t bring him back. the purpose of this cas would be to horrify dean that cas loves him and needs him so much, and to disgust the other cas-es with his neediness.

- a cas who was in some way on better terms with dean during s6. maybe dean and cas ride off into the sunset together after swan song instead of dean going to live with lisa, maybe dean prayed to cas while he was with lisa because he missed him, who knows. either way, cas has dean’s help with the angel revolution in season six from the start, and never goes to crowley. the plan cas and dean come up with to beat raphael includes breaking into the cage and stealing the grace of michael and lucifer, freeing sam and adam in the process. incidentally, it also involves cas possessing dean, because if cas is gonna eat archangel grace to become more powerful, he’s going to need a stronger vessel. so cas and dean have a whole like. midam situation happening. they’re a double archangel together, and godstiel never happened so none of the other terrible apocalypses that stemmed from that happened, and everything is pretty cool where they’re from, and also they’re obviously uhhhhhh SOME kind of together. the purpose of this cas is to upset dean because this cas shows how much better everything could have been and how much better his and cas’ relationship could have been if dean had simply been more considerate of cas in s6, and also freak dean out with how uh. close. this dean and cas are.

- a godstiel who managed to swallow purgatory without swallowing the leviathans and remained god. he’s probably soooomewhat less scary and murdery than canonverse godstiel because no leviathans, so you know, not as many angel purges or massacres on earth. and he probably went and fixed sam’s wall within about three days because cas is prideful but he does NOT like it when dean is mad at him. so they did kiss and make up, and so this cas would have had dean to act as his morality chain. but he’s still very scary and godstiel. and also he refers to dean as “The Beloved” you know. his purpose is to freak everyone out, because he’s scary, but also, for the past cas-es, because he is a terrifying abomination that they could never imagine becoming, for the future cas-es, because he is a reminder of their worst selves, and for dean, because he is a reminder of how dangerous cas is, but also because he uh. obviously has some feelings about his dean. unclear if they are consummated or not.

- a cas who naomi never rescued from purgatory, and who stayed there. hasn't spoken to another being in half a decade, has not recovered from his emotionally destroyed state in purgatory in s8. believes at first that the spell is his dean rescuing him, and is crushed when he realizes he was wrong. like endverse cas, his purpose is to show dean how much cas needs him and depends on him emotionally, and how he (dean) is capable of destroying cas, as well as his guilt for leaving him in purgatory and how lucky he is that his cas got out. this is especially noteworthy since the guilt for leaving cas in purgatory is part of the reason dean is trying to get cas back.

- a cas who stayed human after season nine, and has built himself a small human life over the next four years. he has a job and an apartment and friends outside the winchesters and yes, he still goes hunting after work sometimes, and he's still in contact with dean, but he is also independent in a way no other version of cas has ever been. he exists to freak out dean because dean has never seen cas independent of him. he is also fairly bitter at dean since dean did kind of stop spending time with him when he was no longer useful, and our dean feels guilty for that.

- a cas who showed up twenty minutes later in 10x03, finding sam dead and dean gone, and had to chase down demon dean, and has now spent three years following demon dean around as his tragically adoring stalker, because he hasn't found a way to resurrect sam yet and he doesn't want to put dean through the demon cure until he can save sam because he doesn't want dean to experience that guilt, but he also adores dean and wants to keep an eye on him and keep him safe and also keep him from doing anything too heinous, so he just covertly follows him around the country and watches from a distance as he commits various murders and fucks his way through every local bar scene. and occasionally cas finds dean something to kill, when the mark gets hungry, and drops it in his path. his purpose is to freak dean out with the lengths cas would go for him, and the depths cas would sink to.

anyway. lebanon cas and season four cas are horrified and perhaps disgusted (lebanon cas more than s4 cas) by ALL of the later cas-es, and how far they’re fallen, all of it for dean. godstiel and archangel cas being abominations, endverse cas and s9 cas being fallen, even purgatory cas and demon dean’s cas for their total dependence on dean.

purgatory cas and endverse cas are just happy to see a dean, even if it’s not their dean. demon dean’s cas, too, in a way. he’s happy to see a dean who is still human, who he can still have as a friend.

human cas is pissed to see that he was right, that dean would have stuck by him if he’d still had his powers, that this version of dean is doing spells to try and bring his cas, who is still an angel, back, whereas he and his dean only see each other once every couple months.

everyone is terrified and disgusted by godstiel, as i said before.

they’re mostly kind of thrown by archangel cas. a lot of them are jealous. godstiel is furious because how dare anyone, even an alternate version of himself, take dean as a vessel (even if dean likes it). godstiel isn’t really there, though, he resisted the summoning and just sort of popped his head through to see what was going on, and he goes back to his own reality pretty fast without murdering anyone.

also to be clear dean has not at this point examined or acknowledged any feelings he may have about his cas besides “friendship,” nor has he wondered what feelings his cas may have for him. given how many of the cas-es were clearly in some kind of relationship with their dean (endverse cas, archangel cas) or just openly in love with their dean (godstiel, purgatory cas, demon dean’s cas), dean is forced to reevaluate the nature of his and cas’ relationship.

#spn #asks #anonymous

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thisisatesttai · 2 years ago

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How Bleach (2022) can Shake Things Up

So I wrote my “Ichihime is canon” version of what I think the final season of Bleach needs to do to fix the manga’s rushed finale. It basically tied up the loose ends of the Orihime/Ichigo/Rukia love triangle in a way that jutsified the epilogue. However, there’s one crucial bit of information that I left out that changes everything.

This is the perfect time to kill Renji.

If I’ve said it once, I’ll say it a million times more, Renji should have died in the Soul Society arc. That being said, in the outline I gave for the final battle with Yhwach, we need a reason for Rukia to replace Renji in the final battle against Yhwach. We also need to establish some stakes for this battle, because as many people have pointed out, Yhwach is kind of a lackluster final boss for the series. This could be solved by having him kill off a beloved character--like Renji. We even get a moment where Renji thanks Ichigo for giving him a chance to make a move on Rukia, which can now be a tragic “what could have been” scenario. How does Yhwach do it? I dunno, Renji’s just bad at fighting XD Maybe Yhwach has some kind of instant-kill technique, or we get an episode or two of a fight between Ichigo, Renji, and Yhwach, but at a low point, Ichigo sees Renji go down. Rukia, from where she is, would feel Renji die and can dash over and join him, but now we've raised the stakes, as we've seen that Yhwach has the power to kill either of our two heroes.

And so, they defeat Yhwach. All is well, but now the epilogue has to change. Most obviously, Rukia cannot go on to have a family with Renji, though I think she would still return to the Soul Society and become Captain of the 13th Guard. This could be the only change that ripples out from Renji’s death, but for the sake of argument, let’s address the rest of the epilogue.

What would Ichigo’s happy ending be? Personally, I never bought that Ichigo would want to grow up to run his father’s clinic and raise a family. These are not thing that Ichigo has ever shown any interest in. What we know he enjoys is fighting to protect people. Which he could do by joining the Soul Society. Maybe after this final battle at Rukia’s side, Ichigo will decide that his life in the world of the living has ended, and he’ll go with Rukia to the Soul Society, which has always been an option quietly but pointedly ignored by the series, to the point where you’re aware it’s there but no one’s willing to talk about it. Now, this doesn’t have to be a romantic thing, in fact I would expect that Ichigo and Rukia would be played as fully platonically living together in the Seireitei as professional partners--but don’t expect that to stop the shippers ; )

But then what about poor Orihime? Well, I have an answer for this too. You see, she still gets her speech from Rukia about how she needs to just be herself rather than trying to become what she thinks Ichigo wants, but when Renji dies, Rukia needs to leave. This is where Uryu comes in; we already know he’s in the area, given how the manga ended, but if Rukia is going to join Ichigo, Uryu makes sense as who Rukia could leave the injured Orihime behind with. And we’ve always known Uryu had a crush on Orihime...

That should be self-explanatory, but I decided I’m not gonna leave that point hanging, actually. The reason Ishida works as a romantic interest for Orihime and Ichigo doesn’t is because Ishida has always appreciated Orihime for who she is, and in many ways he fits Orihime’s image of Ichigo better than Ichigo does. If, at this moment, Orihime and Uryu had a minute alone together, I can see Orihime making some realizations and tying up both characters’ respective romantic arcs.

Also also, I think we lose the weird ominous way that Yhwach is defeated this way? I’ve never understood why Bleach chose to end on a non-ending where Yhwach is explicitly said to be coming back someday, but if the ending is changed for the anime, it all makes sense. Now the heroes can defeat Yhwach definitively, and the manga shows us how things could have gone worse if they’d made some different choices leading up to it. It kind of implies that Ichigo and Rukia’s bond is just that potent, too, which I like (because it ties into the themes of Bleach--not [just] for shipping reasons!)

And so that’s my definitely-not-gonna-happen-even-if-it’s-better-than-what-we-get pitch for Bleach’s ending. Renji dies, as he was always intended to, Ichigo ascends to the Soul Society so he can spend the rest of his existence with his totally-platonic-friend Rukia, and Uryu and Orihime find in each other the acceptance they need to settle down and start a family, and everyone, (except Renji) lives happily ever after.

Also Chad doesn’t get into boxing, wtf that’s the literal opposite of what he’s always been about XD

#bleach #thousand year blood war #tybw #bleach tybw #ichiruki #ichihime #abarai renji #kuchiki rukia #kurosaki ichigo #inoue orihime #ishida uryu #uryu ishida #orihime inoue #ichigo kurosaki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #ending #fanfiction #fanon

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 3 years ago

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Into The Unknown, Part 8

First

Marinette had never thought that living in another world would be this hard.

Sure, she had known that she would have issues when it came to the whole ‘she wasn’t technically supposed to be here and therefore needed a new identity’ thing. That was kind of obvious. The story they’d come up with had been simple enough -- she had grown up in Gotham with her parents, was highschool sweethearts with Tim, they had gotten married, he’d moved in with her, and her parents had died so she’d gotten custody of Damian. She was pretty sure Tim had a tragic backstory, but she didn’t really have that memorized yet. She wasn’t all that worried about it, though, she spent quite a lot of time dodging answering questions about her private life as Ladybug. Marinette probably wouldn’t even need to memorize his backstory (she would, of course, because she was nothing if not an overachiever, but she was well aware of the fact that it wasn’t quite necessary).

But, no, it was the small things that made it difficult.

Like affection.

Marinette was Parisian, she was used to greeting people with kisses on both cheeks. Hugs were something reserved for people you were close to.

But, no, Americans just insisted on being backward in everything that they do. And, supposedly, Marinette was American. She could get away with her accent because Gotham had a bunch of different people and it was easy to claim she came from the French part of town, but when it came to customs? No, she had to at least try and act like someone who had lived in America for her entire life.

So, when she was greeted with a hug from the most affectionate of her fellow interns, Marinette suppressed a cringe and patted her on the back awkwardly.

“Hi, Paige,” she said.

Paige beamed. “Ready for work?”

Marinette squinted up at the building. The WE in this universe was even taller than in her usual one.

… or maybe it just looked like that because she dreaded going inside. Ugh. Being an intern was going to suck.

“No.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll be fine.”

“Thanks…”

But, despite Paige’s assurances, it did not go fine.

And it wasn’t even the job thing that wasn’t going well. That, at least, she could handle. No, it was this world’s meme culture that sent her spiraling.

She’d been holding exactly nine cups of coffee, seven mugs of tea, and one energy drink can. Marinette didn’t know if it was her time working in a bakery or some sort of latent Ladybug skills or what but it wasn’t even all that difficult to hold them all.

Paige raised her eyebrows at her, looking vaguely concerned. “Do you need help?” She asked, hands already out as if expecting her to say yes.

Marinette cracked a grin. “No. I’m fine. It’s not even that hard. I could probably carry another two drinks, even.”

“Freaky flexing, but fine.”

“... the fuck did you just say to me?”

Tim hummed lightly as he bounced on the balls of his feet, baby sleeping soundly on his shoulder. Marinette fumbled the keys to their new apartment, mumbling curses.

She’d outright told him that she didn’t really care, that she’d lived above a bakery for most of her life so it wasn’t like she would mind as long as the place had counter space…

So why was he nervous?

He felt the tiny hand in his shirt grip him tighter and he looked down. Damian was still fast asleep, sucking on his pacifier peacefully. Tim wondered, idly, how that worked. Was it a reflex that humans lose as they age like the grasping reflex or was it a learned behavior that went away when it wasn’t reinforced anymore?

Marinette managed to open the door, her cheeks tinged red at how difficult it had been, and she swung it open.

He stopped bobbing up and down to watch her face.

But she just shrugged to herself and bent down to grab the box she’d brought up.

He tried not to look too relieved as he followed her inside and watched her set the box down on the kitchen island.

She glanced back at him. “I call cleaning and setting up the apartment!” She said brightly.

“Okay…?” He said, confused as to why she was so excited to clean up…

But then Damian started to stir.

Oh. If she had cleanup duty… then he had…

Baby duty.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Shit, Mari, wait --!”

“Too late! You already said okay!” She said, already heading to the door.

Damian spat out his pacifier and took that one long, deep breath he always took before he was about to scream.

“Mari!”

She stuck her tongue out at him and disappeared around the doorframe just as the baby started to cry.

Tim heaved a sigh and pressed a kiss to the top of the kid’s head. The wailing quieted a little, but didn’t stop. Tim would take it, he hadn’t even been expecting Damian to quiet himself. This was an absolute win in his book.

He glanced at the box that had been brought up but, unfortunately, they hadn’t had enough foresight to bring the baby supplies.

He poked his head out the door and yelled for Marinette to bring up the box with the baby stuff first. She yelled ‘fuck you’ in response but when she came back she handed him the box regardless.

He smiled -- or, at least, he smiled as much as it was possible to smile when a baby was screaming at you -- and went to work figuring out what was wrong.

There was good news and bad news.

Good news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

Bad news was that Damian was starting to learn that crying was okay.

And, listen, Marinette obviously preferred that. She wanted to know when the kid was hurt or hungry or even just craving affection… but ugh.

She twisted around in the bed to squint at the clock.

Three o’clock. Great.

She groaned softly and buried her face in Damian’s hair again. “Dami, please, I have work tomorrow. Shhhhhhhhh,” she pleaded. As if she didn’t have to go to work every day.

Damian, of course, didn’t stop crying.

Marinette thought she was going to cry.

Tim pulled his arm from around them so he could cover his ears with his pillow.

She reluctantly sat up. Damian banged his little fists against her shoulder in an attempt to tell her… something. Probably that he wasn’t happy. As if the entire apartment complex couldn’t hear just how unhappy he was.

She changed his diaper and then got him Cow. Hopefully that would sate him for the rest of the night.

She clambered back into bed and sent Tim a weak smile when he wrapped an arm around them.

She scooted toward him, because Damian was reaching for him and his eyes were closed, and tucked her head under his chin. He tensed just slightly before relaxing and tangling his legs with hers.

Damian seemed to like being cocooned between them, because he made a vague happy sound and settled down to sleep without much (more) fussing.

Tim hummed lightly. His voice was terrible, but it seemed to calm Damian so Marinette wasn’t about to complain.

It took a while for Damian to go back to sleep but, eventually, he did. Unfortunately, he fell asleep while biting the crinkly ears of his plush and it was hard to sleep with the steady crkcrkcrkcrk sound right next to her.

From the way Tim’s breathing had yet to slow, he wasn’t asleep either.

Well, at least that was something to do.

“I’m beginning to think the reason babies are so cute is that otherwise we would kill them,” she joked, her voice soft so as not to wake the kid again.

Not that it would matter all that much. She could, unfortunately, not see herself going back to sleep before her alarm went off.

He chuckled and nodded as much as he could with her head beneath his. “Right? I just want one night of good sleep --.”

He stopped suddenly.

She drew back a little to check that he was fine, only to see him looking mildly horrified.

“We need to go back home soon. I’m going to get used to sleeping like a normal person. I can’t do that,” he said.

She grinned. “Oh no. The horror.”

“No, you don’t get it. If I do that then I’ll be giving into my family’s wishes. I can’t let them think they’re right about something!”

She giggled, shaking her head. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you: I don’t want you to sleep. As Dami and I are your only family -- legally -- for the next fifteen years, you must not do what we want. Therefore, you have to sleep.”

“Ah. Reverse psychology.”

“Well, I am a psych major.” Some of the amusement faded. “Was a psych major.”

“... really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. I’d figured it was the closest I could get to being Ladybug again.”

“You’re still Ladybug.”

She shrugged just slightly. “Yeah. I dunno,” she said again. She tried for a grin. “Doesn’t feel the same when there’s no emotional terrorism involved.”

“Trust me, you don’t want to do the same thing over and over again for a million years.”

“There’s some comfort in things staying the same.”

“Oh? Maybe we should trade.”

“That’s an amazing plan that I see no problems with. You get to go around beating up the Meta Of The Week and I’ll stay in Gotham dealing with all the idiots in spandex.”

“Are we switching outfits, too?”

“Oh yeah. Obviously. Gotta commit to the whole ‘switching’ thing. I bet I’ll look cuter in your outfit, too.”

“Ah, yes, because cuteness is the most important part of vigilante costumes.”

“We end up in papers all the time, being cute is totally important.”

He chuckled lightly and she felt the arm around her give her a tiny squeeze. She buried her face in his chest.

“You should try and sleep.”

“Hypocrite,” she teased, but she could already feel her eyelids drooping.

He hummed. She thought that, maybe, it didn’t sound so bad as to make him stop.

Tim had been in the middle of bathing Damian as he always did before bed when he’d accidentally splashed water on his face.

Perfectly fine and normal.

What wasn’t perfectly fine and normal was that the baby responded by saying: “Oh shit!”

Tim’s eyes narrowed.

“MARINETTE,” he yelled.

Marinette was there in seconds. There was some kind of green paste on her face. She’d been in the middle of her usual skincare routine. He thought it was kind of weird that near-immortals needed skincare routines but that wasn’t the point here.

She looked around frantically. “What?! What’s wrong?!”

“Damian just said sh --... he said the s-word.”

Marinette relaxed at that and sent Tim a glare. “Don’t blame this one on me. You’re the one that says that.”

Tim frowned. Because, now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure she was right.

“Now, if he’d said ‘fuck��, that would have been on me, but he didn’t, so --.”

“FUCK,” Damian said brightly.

Tim glared at Marinette again, this time rightfully so.

She looked a little sheepish. “... okay, yeah, that one’s on me.”

~~~~~

@nathleigh @peachmuses @unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff

#my baby cousins are starting to rub off on me #yesterday i said 'im sleepies' in a normal conversation #girl help #into the unknown #maribat #timinette #timari #timmari #shutterbug #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #red robin #tim drake

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

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His Good Sweater: Chapter 12

Masterlist

Winding down from the frenzy of the last chapter... Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤

Word Count: 5.9k

Recommended song: "I Don't Care" by Fall Out Boy

“Mon amour, wake up.”

Pierre’s sleep-heavy voice rouses you from the best sleep you’d had in a long time. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of his even breathing under the soothing touch of his thumb tracing patterns on your side.

You crack your eyes open to see him silhouetted by the white light of the waning moon, his bare chest left uncovered by the blanket slung low over his hips. The sight alone has your mind instantly jumping into overdrive, fighting the need to sleep with the need to continue ogling the bare skin a foot from your face.

“I let you sleep as long as I could,” he says softly, reaching behind him for his phone. “We have to be on the M1 in about half an hour.”

“Mmmph,” you groan, snuggling back under the blanket and closer to him, chasing the warmth radiating from him. “The sun isn’t even out.”

His chuckle shakes the bed. “I figured you would say that which is why I made you breakfast and picked out your clothes. All you have to do is brush your teeth and get dressed.”

You hum appreciatively and press a kiss to his bare sternum. “Is this how you’re going out today? Because I won’t complain but you might cause a few heart attacks.” A kiss to your temple is a small reward for your comment, as well as a concession.

"Don't worry, this is reserved only for you." He stretches an arm above his head, grinning when your eyes immediately are drawn to the way the muscles ripple and pull under his skin. You stare shamelessly as he flexes a little for your benefit, the action going straight to your head.

"As it should be." You bite your lip and let your fingertips dance over his chest, memorizing the way it rises and falls so predictably with each deep breath. Against your better judgement you trail kisses up over his pectoral and spot them along his shoulder, dragging another light chuckle from him.

"My love," he warns, voice tinted with mischief, "we don't have time."

"Oh I think we do." You continue your path over his collarbone and to the hollow of his throat. Taking advantage of his biggest weakness, you flick your tongue over his prominent adam’s apple. The move has his hand engulfing your upper arm, giving you a warning squeeze.

"As wonderful as this is" -he sucks in a sharp breath when your teeth graze his neck- "if I'm late Horner will kill me."

"What's new?" You say, but draw back. The mere mention of his name made you see red and shattered the moment. "Do you really want to go back to Red Bull after how they treated you?"

"No," he admits, slipping an arm around you and tugging you up and into a sitting position, taking advantage of the momentary lapse of lust. "But if I want a shot with a top team when my contract is up, I don’t have much choice."

"Where do you see yourself going?"

Pierre studies you as you slip into the clothes he had selected for you. Nothing fancy, just an AlphaTauri branded navy and white hoodie and some light wash jeans. You don't miss the way his lips twitch upward when you notice it's his hoodie, his last name embroidered in block font on the cuff a dead giveaway even if the hoodie hadn't been ridiculously oversized on you.

Cheeky bastard.

"I think I would look good in sunshine yellow," he remarks. You make a show of looking him up and down under the pretense of imagining him in a Renault branded hoodie or their signature black race suit. Truthfully it was just another excuse to drink him in like the fine wine he was and recall how he had tasted on your tongue last night.

He would look good in any color on the grid but you don't grant him the satisfaction of pointing that out. Instead, you lean forward to toy with the waistband of the jeans he had hastily buttoned seconds earlier. "You and Daniel get along just fine." You snag him by the belt loops and yank him forward back onto the bed. "I think you should go to McLaren.”

“I’d still look good in orange.”

You wind your fingers under his waistband. “I think you’d look best wearing nothing at all, actually.”

“The time,” Pierre protests lightly when you pop open the button and undo the zipper. He groans when you yank the denim down around his thighs, finally submitting to your touch and lacing his fingers in your hair. Your lips explore the planes of his abdomen, any and all thoughts of speed abandoned on your end. "If you don't hurry up we're gonna be late."

"Maybe you'll just have to drive fast. I hear you’re good at that."

**********

"So how is it that they got your car all the way to London?"

"It's got its own private jet."

You roll your eyes and smack the hand resting on your thigh. His response is a light squeeze and a chuckle before he continues, "They've got a few spares they keep around for when drivers come to town. I can't be seen in a Mini or it would cause a scandal."

"Oh yes it would be quite tragic." His hand charts a dangerous path along your thigh. He knows exactly what he's doing as he slots a thumb between your legs and presses it tight to the apex of your thighs.

You snap your knees shut, effectively trapping his hand "Now you're just being cruel."

"Only dishing out what you did this morning," he points out and wiggles his hand free to rest on your knee instead. The message was clear: he had shaken you well enough for his liking and was perfectly content to leave you frustrated until he could get you home.

“So catch me up on what I’ve missed,” you say, determined to distract yourself from Pierre’s slight teasing. “What’s new in the life of the rising star in Formula 1?”

“Rising star,” Pierre mumbles and rolls his eyes. “Not yet, my love. Getting there, but not yet.”

“Please, you’re too modest. Last night when you fell asleep- you were out like a light as soon as your head hit the pillow, don't give me that look!” Pierre picks his jaw up off the floor and shakes his head as you continue, “I read plenty of articles that called you the next big thing, right up there with Max.”

The comparison didn't seem to sit right with him. He shifts in his seat, rolling words over on his tongue. “I’m sure you’re caught up then. I haven’t done anything really besides train and race.”

“I did notice you’ve beefed up a bit.”

“Yet another reason to thank Pyry.”

“At this point I should send him a fruit basket for his trouble.”

“Maybe you should.” Pierre grins, hand leaving your thigh for a split second to upshift. “What about you? How’s year four treating you?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started,” you groan. “My senior project is already killing me and I’ve only just started it. We have to design a building from the ground up- I mean I like architecture but I’m trying to be an engineer, not an architect. I dunno why I have to be the one to design a building! At this point it’s just a brick box.”

“Sounds challenging,” Pierre notes, flooring it when he merges onto the highway. Though the speed makes your stomach flip, you don’t miss a beat.

“My team doesn’t do much either, I’ve been doing most of it. I could rant for hours about it.”

Pierre glances at the clock, then back to you. The blue of his eyes is blocked by his signature purple tinted sunglasses, shielding them from the rising sun that casts him in a warm orange glow. “Humor me. We’ve got time.”

The hour and a half drive was by no means dull with Pierre's teasing touches and endless string of questioning along the way. He asked after every aspect of your life that had transpired in the last four months, only stopping you once in a while to interject with an opinion or anecdote. He didn't stop at your life either, even asking after Ben's relationship. You'd been happy to report that he had indeed wooed his crush and had officially asked him to be his boyfriend.

"Those secret French lessons paid off," Pierre jokes as he pulls up to the imposing glass fronted building that served as Red Bull Racing's headquarters. The sweeping curve of the entrance was flanked on either side by two-story red and yellow bulls; proof that the team's dramatics extended far past the track. Anyone approaching for the first time would have been intimidated by the sheer size of them that suggested they were ready to stomp on their competition at a moment’s notice.

“Guess it’s time.” You sigh and undo your seatbelt and fiddle with the buckle, doing your best to stall. There was no reason to be this nervous. You were no one to these people; the focus would be entirely on Pierre. You would be an afterthought, not that you minded because it made it easier to fade into the background.

Pierre picks up on your hesitation in a heartbeat. “I’ll keep them off your back,” he promises and you nod, the single sentence taking the edge off. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.” You reach for the door handle but Pierre tsks and you pause.

"You know better." You bite your lip to keep back the grin fighting its way to the surface as he comes around to open your door. He offers you his hand and you gladly take it and are pleasantly surprised when he threads his fingers through yours and heads for the entrance.

The atrium serving as the lobby is breathtakingly gorgeous. You had to hand it to the interior designer; they knew what they were doing. Sleek white marble floors are accented by red and yellow leather chairs scattered in small groups throughout the grand space. A tiered circular modern interpretation of a chandelier hangs above to offer guidance to the accountants, engineers and artists that weave through the lobby on their way to their respective wings or offices.

A waist high, glass front cabinet of drivers helmets serves as the reception desk. The unmistakable scent of a fresh cup of coffee hits you as you approach and the secretary hands a steaming paper cup to someone before they scurry off, presumably to a private office if they were important enough to warrant special attention. The first rays of morning sunlight glint off the silver Red Bull logo inlaid in the black marble behind the woman at the counter, making you squint.

"Bonjour Monsieur Gasly," she says in perfect French. "Ça va?"

"Bien," he says simply and switches to English for your benefit. "Has Christian come through yet?"

"He has," the woman says, glancing sidelong at you. Whatever conclusions she draws about you are insignificant enough that she writes you off immediately, angling her body towards Pierre and resting her chin in her hand. The posturing puts her ample chest on display, nearly spilling out of her billowing blouse, but Pierre's eyes don't wander. "He's not expecting you yet. Voulez-vous un cafe?"

"I'm good." The woman may have been determined to alienate you but Pierre was having none of it. Pierre turns to you, a grin playing on his face. This was your first test as an official couple and he intended to see how you handled it. "How about you, my love? Coffee?"

The woman's eyes slip to where your hand remains clasped in his. She cocks her head so slightly you think you might be imagining it until Pierre's grip tightens, a silent encouragement. Your confidence soars. If this was how Daniel's girlfriend felt when the two of them were out, you finally understood why they didn't hide. It was a rush knowing that everyone wanted Pierre but he only wanted you. No matter how blatantly women threw themselves at him, there was no doubt in your mind that he would never give a single one of them the light of day.

It was about damn time you afforded him the same unwavering commitment as he had shown you.

"No thank you," you reply sweetly with a mocking smile directed to the woman. You lean in and drop your voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "You might want to fix your shirt though, it’s… slipped. I know I'd hate for that to happen to me and no one tell me, especially at work. I don't think I'd ever recover from it."

Her face immediately turns scarlet as she stands straight and folds her arms over her chest. "If I were you-"

"Let Horner know I'm here," Pierre interrupts and it's somehow the hottest thing he's ever said. His purely commanding tone leaves no room for argument.

"Of course," she replies with a sharp smile in your direction that makes your spine stiffen. "Good luck. Christian is in rare form this morning."

"Just ignore it," Pierre murmurs and sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand as he leads you across the cold marble and down a carpeted hall. "You handled that well.”

“I may have gotten a few pointers from Daniel’s lover.” Your soft smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. The short interaction had sapped most of your confidence, leaving you on uneven footing. “I would rather not have to deal with that again soon though.”

“I can handle the women easy enough when I know I’ve got you to come home to.”

The tightness in your chest eases further when the hall opens into another startlingly white space, this time packed with rows and rows of navy cubicles. But that's not where your attention is drawn- instead, your gaze is immediately snagged by the case of trophies towering high along the back wall. Cups of every shape and size shine within, each one representing a different podium for the team achieved in various years and tracks.

"There must be over a hundred," you breathe, mesmerized by the glinting silver and intricate craftsmanship. The case was easily thirty feet tall and you had to crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the ones in the top row. Each one told a story of blood, sweat and tears, each one earned by a driver who had made countless sacrifices to be where they were and finish on a podium.

"A hundred and eighty five to be exact," he counters, laughing at your amusement. "Your inner architect is screaming isn't it?"

"Only a little."

Pierre laughs outright at your white lie and tugs you along. "You can stare on the way out. I'll even show you which ones were Max's."

"Did you memorize what all his trophies look like?"

"Hey, meetings with engineers get boring. It's one of the more interesting ways to occupy your time when they are going on and on about fluid mechanics and thermodynamics- you know, stuff you understand but not me."

"Oh whatever, you enjoy those meetings and you know it."

"Only a little," he quotes.

People recognize him as you pass and some nod or give a simple greeting as they go about their morning but no one stops him to chat. The air feels a bit hostile, like no one knows what to do with him now that he's walking through the building after a nearly two year absence.

"Do you miss it?" You ask after he smiles at someone for the millionth time.

"I miss the team," he admits, "but not the management culture. My team was great- they supported me any way they could but it didn't help that Horner didn't exactly encourage them to believe in me. It's hard to crank out results when there's no one on your side."

"I'm on your side," you point out, nudging him with your hip. "You've got me forever, no takesies backsies."

"I'm grateful for it," he murmurs and gives your hand a squeeze. He hadn't let go once; not when he had to open a door or the two of you had to walk single file to let people pass.

The building was a labyrinth and if it wasn't for Pierre you'd have been lost the moment you set foot inside. He navigates the twisting halls with ease, having no need for the countless signs posted along the way.

He leads you up a set of steel stairs after what seems like ages. When he knocks on a heavy oak door, his grip on your hand turns possessive like he suspects the office’s occupant would try to rip you away from him.

“Morning.”

God, even the one word makes rage simmer in your veins. The voice precedes the man and Christian Horner swings open the door, a plastic smile splitting his face. He doesn't bother acknowledging you with a greeting, instead addressing his driver directly.

“I wasn’t expecting you to bring a guest.”

“A pretty face was needed around here,” Pierre snaps back without missing a beat. You bristle, free hand curling into a fist. If there was one person you didn’t mind teaching a lesson to, it was Horner. He had little respect for anyone he viewed as disposable- up to and including “underperforming” drivers.

Christian raises an eyebrow. “Sure. She can wait out here- you and I have terms to discuss.”

Fine, Horner wanted to play dirty? So could you. When it came to staring him down, you became fearless. He was the one person you refused to let intimidate you.

Drawing on your newly minted confidence you smile up at Pierre and silence the protest forming on his tongue with a grin. “Gimme a kiss, race winner.”

Pierre doesn’t hesitate to press his lips to yours. Cupping a hand to the back of his neck you draw him in and nip at his lower lip. The hand on your hip tightens at Christian's scoff but Pierre makes no move to break away. You linger a moment longer than necessary to drive your point home: you didn’t care what Horner had to say about you, you were here to stay and he would have to get used to it.

Pierre gives you a small, blissed out smile before dropping your hand and following Horner inside. The door clicks but doesn't shut all the way, Pierre leaving it cracked for your benefit.

Uninterested in eavesdropping on small talk, you lean on the metal railing to observe the research and development garage coming to life on the floor below. Hybrid engines in various stages of disassembly dot the space, small teams of mechanics and engineers tweaking components to reduce weight or increase horsepower. Pistons and valves are scrutinized and exchanged before being placed under stress to test their strength.

An FIA official in a red jacket wove through the garage to observe and jot notes down on a clipboard. He looks over the shoulder of an engineer pouring over formulas on a whiteboard, startling him when the official asks a question. Someone calls your name from below and you search for the origin, finally spotting the woman and waving back at her.

Management may have their qualms with Pierre but it was clear there were still some within the team that had his back. They were likely the same ones that knew he would have to leave the Red Bull umbrella to find any semblance of success. They may not have possessed the guts to stick their necks out for him when Horner had cut him but they were at least happy to see him back around headquarters.

"You sure you'll rise to the challenge?" Horner's question drags you back to the mezzanine.

"I'll take seventh. I'm only a few points away and we have plenty of races left."

He had five races to catch up to be exact. Pierre currently was comfortably ahead of the pack in ninth, Sainz was only three points ahead in eighth, and Norris ten points beyond in seventh. It would only take a DNF or two from his rivals and a few podiums to pass them up.

"Right," Horner starts. "There's a reason you've done so well this season and it's not luck. You've been racing exceptionally well and I don't want that to change."

"If there's something on your mind just get on with it." Pierre's voice is calm and collected in a way yours wouldn't be if you had been in his shoes. You've been dying to rip into Horner since the day he wrote Pierre off.

"There's been a fire in you the past few months since she has been gone-"

"Leave her out of this."

The tone sends a chill down your spine. It maintains the same level headedness that Pierre had perfected over the years and you had come to expect when he was backed against a wall, but it was laced with an unspoken threat. The intent was clear: he would walk out and abandon his chance for a seat at Red Bull if it meant protecting you.

You creep to the door to peer through the crack. Horner crosses his arms, a sly smile on his face. "You would sacrifice your chance at a championship winning seat for her? Everything you've worked so hard for, gone in a flash, because of her?"

"Without question," Pierre answers immediately. The conviction and commitment behind it nearly makes you stumble. "I'm sure there's plenty of other teams that would love to have me after the season I've had. She’s not going anywhere, so either you stop disrespecting her or I walk out."

You clench your fists, ready to burst in and demand Pierre stop being a fucking idiot. His long term plan saw him at another top team that would take care of him and nurture his skill- a long stint at Red Bull Racing was never in the cards. It wasn't an environment for everyone. Some people like Max thrived in it, letting the toxicity roll off their backs but for Pierre it was a cruel form of punishment. However, a seat at Red Bull for the 2022 season could mean the difference between an offer from Alpine and an offer from Haas when his contract was up for renewal.

The idea of seeing his number stickered to the floor in a Red Bull garage excites and intimidates you. Last time he hadn't been given the chance to prove himself. Would they still hold that against him? Knowing Christian, he probably would. On the other hand, it meant that they admitted their mistake in cutting him mid-season, whether they said it outright or not.

Pierre's redemption day was on the horizon and you couldn't wait to see the look on Horner's face when he finally won. And the longer Christian stays silent, the more potent the urge to throttle him grows.

Christian gives a slow clap. "Now there's the unwavering commitment that was missing during round one."

Your heart hammers in the dead silence as papers are shuffled. "Here's the contract. Terms are as discussed, you secure seventh in the world championship in 2021 and the second seat at Red Bull Racing is yours for the entire calendar in 2022. No demotions, substitutions, or shuffling of drivers unless medically necessary or mutually agreed upon by all affected parties."

"And the same spec car as the number one seat," Pierre insists, spine straight. "Same strategy."

Christian waves a hand. "Yes, that's in there too. Feel free to take a moment and read it over."

He does, allowing Christian time to pour a knuckle of whiskey and set the glass before Pierre. He pours himself an identical glass and waits until Pierre signs and initials all the boxes before raising it in acknowledgement.

"Congratulations. Welcome back to Red Bull- conditionally."

Pierre leaves the glass untouched and remains silent, staring his potential future team principal down. He gives the man no margin to question his abilities further, conveying all he needs to with a look that would have had you shaking at the knees. Even if you can't see his face, wrath radiates from him in waves and you wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it when it explodes.

"Right then." Christian lowers the glass, his fake smile vanishing. "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

"Don't worry. I'll deliver."

You step back and allow him to set the mood as he exits the office and slams the door behind him. Pierre sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. "You heard all of that right?"

You nod. "You wouldn't have really walked out, right?"

"I almost did."

He says it like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Like you should know that he would choose you over all of this, that all of his dreams and everything he had sacrificed to achieve them thus far meant less to him than you did. How many times did he have to prove his unwavering commitment before you realized it was true?

Pierre laces his fingers through yours, the heat welcomed by your ice cold skin. It was as much a comfort to you as it was to him. "I just have to grab some things from Max's office and then we can head out."

His jaw is still set after his stand off with Christian and you want nothing more than to ease his mind. Publicly comforting him with a touch to his chest or a kiss to his neck was out of the question so you settle on temporary distraction.

"Hey, you know what I want to see?"

"What's that?"

"That room full of all the old chassis. You know, the one that they hold all the fancy virtual events in? I wanna see those."

"I think I should be able to get you back there." He veers down a hall and you yelp, pulled along by his momentum. His attitude brightens a little at your laugh. The grin he throws your way is your own personal sun, warming your soul.

"Hey- hold on." You pull him to a stop and lead him into an alcove. The inch of space between your chests is charged with electricity, begging to jump from one to the other.

"Can I help you?" He asks and grins down at you.

"No," you say nonchalantly. "Just wanted to be selfish for a second."

You rise up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. He melts into you, one hand coming up to cup your jaw while the other finds the small of your back. You side your tongue over his lower lip and he presses you against the door leading to who knew where and opens his mouth to you. You sigh into the kiss, arms winding around his neck and losing yourself in him.

Now that you had gotten over your anxiety, everything was so much easier. You know there's press roaming about the building and any number of them could pass by at any moment but you genuinely couldn't care less. Let them talk; you were over caring what anyone thought or said.

All that mattered was the man beneath your fingertips. You would endure a lifetime of insults if he was the one to soothe the wounds afterwards. As long as you both were happy, no one could come between you ever again.

Pierre pulls away when someone passes by and coughs quietly. "You're trouble," he murmurs, leaving an arm propped next to your head and effectively caging you in.

"And you're dangerous," you tease, tugging on his hair and exposing his throat enough to nip at it once. "Together we're the perfect pair."

He groans and leans away. "Keep that up and I might have to stay in London an extra week."

You slip out of his grasp and give him an unrestrained grin. "Don't threaten me with a good time." You spin on your heel and set off down the hall, swaying your hips a little more than necessary.

"You know where you're going?" He calls after you.

"Someone will point me in the right direction, I'm sure."

"Someone like me." He catches up to you and once again takes your hand in his. He was enjoying showing you off almost as much as you enjoyed hanging on him.

"Maybe we should head right to Max's office and hurry home, huh?"

"Maybe-"

"Pierre, there you are."

You both turn to a woman hustling up the hall after you. She’s slight and her brown curls bounce as she jogs to where the two of you pause at a bend. You glance up to Pierre to see if he's just as confused as you are.

"Hey Mary," he says cheerily. "How are you? Sorry I didn't check in with you when I got here."

"Oh it's fine- why aren't you in the Alpha samples I sent?” The woman props a fist on her hip and tips her head to the side. “I think I got your size right now that I’ve laid eyes on you. I was hoping for a shoot today since you've finally come by."

It takes you a moment to register that she's addressing you. You shoot Pierre a look and he offers you a tentative, closed off smile. "Um, what Alpha gear?"

The woman's chocolate brown eyes go wide. "The ones I've been sending to Pierre. Hoodies, dresses, jackets. All the stuff from the new line. They have been sending the samples to you, right?"

"Um, yeah I've gotten them," Pierre says, rubbing his neck. "I haven't given them to her though."

"Oh, I see!” Pink tinges Mary’s cheeks. “I must have missed a memo. I just thought that you'd want to do a shoot with her today, since we already had a quick one planned for you. After all, you talk about her all the time."

"He does?"

Mary nods. "Oh yes, we've all heard plenty about you. You're lucky to have someone so enamored with you. I just dropped off some more samples in Max's office as a little thank you for letting us steal him so often-"

"Okay, thank you Mary," Pierre says abruptly. "I'll get back to you on that."

Pierre steers you away and down the hall. "What was she talking about? Why would they want me to come by for a photo shoot?"

Pierre runs a hand through his hair and pauses outside Max's office. The Dutchman must have been away because Pierre pulls out his key and fits it in the lock. "I just- come on."

He waves you inside and you obey, letting him close the door and grant you some semblance of privacy before continuing.

"I never formally told anyone that we broke up. Most people came to their own conclusions once they didn't see you around for a while. Some people didn't get the message. Obviously Mary was one of them. I would still talk about you, I couldn't help myself. There was one shoot where Yuki and I were together and he mentioned off hand that you'd be a good brand ambassador. I tried to explain that it wouldn't work but Mary wouldn't hear it and she just kept sending me more and more samples.”

You draw a breath and interrupt his rambling. “But where-”

"I had it all in a box in my office but I struggled to concentrate with a reminder of you hanging over my head. I sent it over here to Max and that's where it's sat ever since. I used the excuse that Max was in town more often than I was and no one read too far into it."

"Why didn't you tell me?" You whisper. "I would've taken them. I'm sure you got an earful from Mary."

"Would you have?” Pierre pauses, your silence in the face of his frustration speaking volumes. “I waited four months to hear from you. Tell me that sending you thousands of dollars in unreleased merch wouldn't have made you even more hesitant to come back to me."

Not knowing what else to say, you let your gaze fall to the carpet. Sending you expensive things would have felt something like a bribe, like he was trying to influence you with fancy clothes.

Pierre shakes his head. “It doesn’t matter, it’s in the past now. We can take it home today and you can wear it when I take you for dinner and Alpha will get the press they’re after. Everyone will be happy.”

He wasn’t happy. That much was plain to see. He hadn’t been able to stomach seeing something intended for you, even that minute of a reminder had been too much for him to bear. God, you had thoroughly wrecked him. You were lucky that there were still enough pieces of him left to heal.

“I didn’t realize you were hurting so bad,” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you cross the cramped space to him, stepping over piles of strewn paperwork carefully so as to not disturb whatever random order they were placed in. You don’t dare reach out to touch him as his shoulders slump, any and all forward momentum he’d gathered suddenly sapped.

“It’s one of the worst things I’ve ever gone through.”

Unable to let him suffer alone with his thoughts, you wrap your arms around his middle and let your cheek rest between his shoulders. “I didn’t mean to alienate you. I was waiting for you, too.”

“You needed space and I gave it to you.” His hand rests on your arm with a gentleness you’ve come to expect when he lays himself bare like this. “There were so many times I almost gave in to the impulse and just messaged you but I made myself wait. I didn’t want to rush it and make things worse. You always need time to think things through- I knew you would come around eventually. It didn’t make it any easier though.”

You rub soothing circles on his side as you blink back the tears that spring to your eyes. “I’m sorry I put you through that. I’m sorry I took so long and I’m sorry I made you wait. It had to have been torture-”

He turns in your embrace and cups your chin, forcing you to look up at him. The pad of his thumb sweeps across your cheek, the metal of the ring on his middle finger biting into your flushed skin. “It’s alright. You had a lot to sort through and I had to respect that.”

“We lost so much time-”

“Hey,” he says softly, ducking his head to meet your eyes. “We’re together now. If there’s one thing I’m sure of it’s that you can’t let missed opportunities control you or else you’ll never be happy.”

You nod, swiping your sleeve under your eyes. “What did they send?” you ask, nodding towards the box overflowing with tan and navy threads.

“Pull up a chair,” Pierre suggests, “there’s a lot.”

You roll over Max’s desk chair and tug on Pierre’s arm. Once he gets the picture and sits, you settle in his lap. He winds an arm around your middle, the close contact already soothing your frazzled nerves.

“That better?” he murmurs.

“Much better.”

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dogbearinggifts · 4 years ago

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What are your thoughts on tua S2? Did you feel like the characters grew? What did you like? What did you not? I’m interested in your perspective. Your analysis are super thoughtful and interesting!

Aw, thanks, Anon!

Overall, I really enjoyed S2 and thought it was a solid follow-up to S1. I do have my quibbles about it, so I think (for ease of reference and because my thoughts are a little scattered today) I’ll list some of my personal highlights (in no particular order) before getting into what I didn’t like as much.

Big spoilers ahead.

Allison. I thought they handled her storyline especially well. Of all the siblings, I think she had the most difficult obstacles placed in her way (not only is she a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas, but she’s a Black woman landing in 1961 Dallas who can’t even speak in her own defense for a year) and they sugarcoated exactly none of it. The writers pulled no punches when showing what civil rights protesters went through, which just made their nonviolent response all the more breathtaking. Allison’s fear and anger during those scenes were palpable even as she kept them hidden. But along with that horror, we see the kindness and warmth of the Dallas Black community, the women who take her in simply because she needs their help, and her love for Ray, perhaps heretofore THE most thoughtful husband ever portrayed on screen. I loved him, and I loved him and Allison together. While I understand and respect his choice to stay in 1963, I wish they’d gotten more time together. They both deserved it.

Vanya. We got to see how much the baggage from her past affected her by glimpsing what she might be like if it were taken away. It’s an interesting philosophical question, and it was explored well, in my opinion. She finds it easier to love and be loved, and she stands up for herself more readily—but she also doesn’t hesitate to use powers she can’t quite control and threatens Five without fully realizing how dire her threat is (or how it might dredge up traumatic memories she doesn’t know exist). The moment where Ben finds her curled up, fully convinced she’s a monster, was heartbreaking. I loved watching her find happiness with Sissy, even if that was fleeting (and dear god, Sissy deserved her happy ending with Vanya, dammit, I don’t care if it would fuck up the timeline). Her patience and sweetness with Harlan were just beautiful. And the way she used the confidence she gained during her amnesia to fully come into her own not to exact revenge on her siblings, but to save them, was fucking phenomenal.

The humor. There was a lot more humor this season, and it was awesome. So many iconic scenes—Olga Foroga, Luther babysitting two homicidal Fives, Elliot awkwardly lecturing his guests on the history of Jello, “NEW TIMELINE NEW ME,” “Your vagina needs glasses,” AJ the fish gobbling up the cigarette bubbles, Five getting to say “fuck”….this season was a lot funnier than the previous one, and I think that was one of its strengths.

Klaus’ cult. It was played for laughs, which I both expected and thought was the best way to handle it. He didn’t want to start a new religion with himself at the center; he just wanted to not get thrown out of any more diners, but Destiny’s Children had other ideas. The “I too am a fraud!” scene was hilarious and tickled the question of whether or not a religion founded on false pretenses can still help those within it find meaning.

Luther. Getting him away from his dad, his siblings, and the Academy was exactly what he needed to become the pure of heart and dumb of ass genius we always knew he was, but his first major step in that direction was heartbreaking. We all knew he’d be rejected once he got to the Academy. We all knew Reginald would rip his heart out and stomp on it in his admittedly fashionable shoes. It gets Luther out on his own and forces him to become his own person apart from his dad, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. He got the positive character development he needed, but the catalyst was tragic.

Diego. We see, for the first time, exactly how Reginald kept him in line—not with meds or with PTSD-inducing torture, but with words. Even when he knows Diego as little more than a stranger, Reginald is able to rip off his skin and fling it in his face with a single diatribe; and even at 30, with years away from his dad, Diego is left unable to speak, feeling as if all of his accomplishments up to that point were the work of a dumb kid who thought he was smarter and more capable than he actually was.

Luther and Diego sharing a braincell. Luther has bad ideas. Diego has bad ideas. When they put their bad ideas together, they get terrible ideas. I loved watching them work together as a team, rather than being at each others’ throats for most of the season, even if I’m left hoping Olga Foroga had a pleasant and quiet day after that phone call.

Reginald. At first glance, it may look like the writers were trying to make him likable so they could parade him around as your average abusive-parent-with-a-soft-side. But it’s more nuanced than that. Abusive parents (and abusers in general) often fly under the radar because they fool outsiders into thinking they’re good people. They’re active in their communities. They give to charity. They have friends who attest to their virtue, significant others who think they’re the greatest. And that’s what we see with Reginald. We see him as the rest of the world did: an intelligent, eccentric man with a sharp sense of humor who cared deeply about scientific advancement. That’s how he evaded suspicion—because there were stories from years past of lively parties at his mansion, of what a gentleman he was to Grace and of how he did everything he could to save little Pogo. But those stories would all have come from people he considered his equals. When he’s with people he considers his inferiors—aka, the Umbrella kids—he’s openly condescending and demeaning. We get to see how he fooled the world, and it is chilling.

Elliot. He deserved better, and you can ship him with any one of the Hargreeves kids and get the cutest thing ever.

The Swedes. They said so much while speaking very little.

Ben. He got more personality and screen time, and it was glorious. His love of his family and resentment toward Klaus practically leapt off the screen. The way he says “I’ve missed you all…so much” once they’ve all left was one of those right-in-the-feels moments; and watching him get so much of what he’s wanted for years when he possesses Klaus was beautiful.

Now, as for things I took issue with….

Ben. I understand why they ended his arc the way they did. I get that they were probably afraid the Klaus/Ben dynamic would grow stale if they didn’t change it somehow and wanted to give him a larger role in S3. His death(???) was heartbreaking and extremely well-done. But it also wasn’t foreshadowed. We never got any sense of what ghosts in the TUA ‘verse are, so the fact they can be destroyed by a ton of sound-turned-energy or by going too far into someone’s psyche or whatever happened….it’s not that it doesn’t make sense so much as there’s not enough evidence to determine whether or not it makes sense. It feels like the writers just kinda made that up so they’d have a reason to change Ben’s relationship dynamics, but if that’s the case, couldn’t they have done it another way? Couldn’t they have made it so the immense energy or psychic woo-woo or whatever gave him a power-up instead of destroying him? Vanya transferred some of her energy into Harlan and brought him back to life. Couldn’t something similar have happened with Ben? And if it tied him to Vanya as well as to Klaus, great! More fodder for angst and humor! (”Vannyyyyyyyy, stop hogging Ben!” “You got him for 17 years, Klaus, you can part with him for 20 minutes.” “Guys, don’t I get a say in this?”) I’m glad they didn’t write him out of the series entirely, but I still wish they’d kept him and all the character development he’d gotten throughout S2.

Episode 10. It looks like they tried to cram half a season’s worth of developments into 45 minutes. Twenty minutes in, I’d already said “Wait what the fuck” half a dozen times. A lot of those moments were explained later on, and I was able to make enough inferences to fill in any lingering plot holes, but…still. Too much stuff, too little time. E9 was a perfectly satisfying ending to the season. Yes, it leaves the siblings stranded in 1963, but they could’ve tied up those loose ends in the S3 premiere.

Lila. She’s an incredibly fun character, but her arc is kind of a mess. Most of that is due to E10, and I do feel that more time to let her arc breathe would’ve worked wonders, but I’m left feeling like her turn from “Handler is the best mom ever and I lurve Diego too” to “KILL DIEGO AND HIS EVIL FAMILY” to “Handler is a bad mom and Diego is right” happened too quickly.

The Commission. Okay, so, the Handler announces the entire Board has been killed, and she’s stepping in as director even though everyone appears to know she’s been demoted (and demoted pretty severely—she went from having an office bigger than some apartments to being a case management drone). There’s suspicion and lots of it. But then, La Resistance is….ten or so people in a single room? And when she calls the temps agents to her side, thousands of them show up ready and willing to fight and die? I dunno. Just seems like there should’ve been more splintering going on there. Again, I think they needed more time to tie everything up.

Aside from those complaints, I loved the season. I set aside most of a day to binge it, and I do not regret that decision at all.

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