#just a tad bit more religiously undertoned
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
so much discourse over the 'dawn will come' scene
Regardless of intent to be a symbol, you have become one. You have become an item to which the people will look to. Religiously, systematically, even just hypothetically.
There is a damn hole in the sky with demons spewing forth every other minute - how are you supposed to raise an army? How are you supposed to keep the few military trained from abandoning? How are you meant to keep peace anywhere, let alone create a resistance to stop Gods and God Like Destruction?
Skipping it would be like skipping Ostagar. Many die in both and a new stage is created, one where the player has to take a mantel and play the part.
#dont get me wrong#is it drawn out#and uncomfortable?#yes#but its npt meant to be for you the player#its for the characters looking to you to find solace and hope#and I find it terribly fitting with all we know of !#of Andraste#of the women of this world#of all of thedas#and what they often have to do to become whats needed#whats necessary#anyway Im grew up without organized religion truly#so maybe thats part of why I dont mind it as much?#watching inquisition play out for me plays just like origins#just a tad bit more religiously undertoned#and given were out of DARKSPAWN IMMINENT SURVICE and into LONG TERM WORLD CHANGING HISTORY#i feel that its fitting#that weve watched 3 individuals go from vague and one of a dozen (even cousland)#and watch them fight and crawl from there positions only to become whats Needed#not truly what they Wanted#to fight is to live#to live is to die#but can a thought truly die?#da:i#da:o#dragon age#da#veilgaurd
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
File #011 - Epilogue
City of the Dead
Pairing: Leon Kennedy x OC
Word Count: 5.5k
Summary: Having escaped Raccoon City, Amara, Leon, and Sherry now face their next biggest obstacle: the US Government. Deals are made, and lives are forever changed, but not without one last goodbye, for now.
Warnings: a tad bit of talk about religious trauma, some violence
Previous Chapter
The start of October started like any other October. Except for the four people who stood outside of Alien Coffee Motel. A chill came through the air that wasn’t there only hours ago. Leon and Amara stood back as Claire gave her goodbyes to Sherry.
It was kind of inevitable that Claire would continue on her original path. Finding Chris was what she came to do and nothing could steer her otherwise. Amara understood that innate need to look after her sibling despite the disaster of a call she tried to make last night, had she been in Claire’s position, she’d searched high and low for Monet if she couldn’t find her.
Maybe post….this, after she’d gathered more of her thoughts, she could give her another call.
Chris had rarely divulged all the parts of his life to Amara, but she knew that Claire was all he had. In that aspect, she envied that. Well, not the orphans part but the closeness that comes from relying on one another, Claire seemed the type to walk through fire for anybody but especially for Chris.
“I’ll be back, I promise,” She hugged Sherry one last time.
She walks over to Amara and Leon, an almost sad smile on her face. The former doesn’t hesitate to pull her in for a hug. “I’m sure you’ll find him, stay safe, alright?” Amara said, still clinging to her.
“Same to you. All three of you.”
“Sherry is in good hands, trust me,” Leon reassured her. They waved her off, watching her walk away until she became a speck against the horizon from the direction they came from.
Amara sighs. “I really hope she’ll be alright.”
“Don’t worry, she’s tough. You both are,” Leon takes hold of her hand, his other holding Sherry’s hand. “Come on.”
—-
They walked and walked for what felt like hours, a slight but earthy, balanced scent wafted the air. There was a definite undertone of car exhaust and skunk too. Helicopters flew by every few minutes. Cars sped past them, sending particles of dust and dirt toward them. A shiver ran down Amara’s exposed skin. Yeah, it’s definitely October.
There is something about it that calmed Amara. Except for the exhaust and skunk, those were gross.
Abraham gave her a map of the city and the surrounding area. If she was right, if they kept on this way, they'd make it back near the other side of RC soon enough.
A sinking feeling sat in her gut, but it was more like a rock. It wasn’t like they could even begin to discuss it all, Leon somehow seemed to pick up on that from her. Their brief, shared glances held more than just a simple look when Sherry asked them anything about the situation. It was better, in the long run, to protect Sherry from their side of the story, considering what Claire told them about the orphanage and Irons (out of Sherry’s earshot, of course), she didn’t need to shoulder the burden of two adults.
Amara still needed to fucking shoulder it herself first anyway. Then there was Leon.
In the morning, they got dressed, unmussing everything that had been mussed–in better-fitting clothes, thanks to Tabitha–and ate their first real meal in what had been days for Amara. The small boxes of stale Lucky Charms and one day out-of-date 1% milk were like a five-star dish to her stomach, that was for damn sure. The silence between them this time was more comfortable but there was a nagging inside her to ask him what this made them.
Everything was a mess, and yet she was worried about labels. Shit, she needed to have her priorities straight.
They had words for this sort of thing.
A few of them she liked while others annoyed her. What occurred over the course of those hours forged something that made them look past the banalities of life and the trivial decisions that come with it. No one else would probably ever understand the tough choices they all made within the depths of that lab, a shared trauma if she ever knew one. And then last night, Amara physically connected further with Leon in a way she hadn’t in a while with anyone.
So she didn’t want to ignore it forever. Ignore the feelings he had pulled from her that left her feeling like time was yielding and all her dreams came true.
She picked up on Leon’s silence as well. The last thing he’d really said was back at the motel, he seemed in deep thought since then. Amara wondered if he was thinking about things just as much as she was, she half expected him to utter at least one silly thing like the cheeseball he’d been occasionally down in the lab whilst they walked but she could definitely understand why he wasn’t.
Thirty minutes went by before another set of cars broke over the horizon. In the middle of a particularly child-friendly conversation about adopting pets between Sherry and Amara.
“Hey, look!” Sherry pointed ahead of them. “Maybe they can give us a ride?”
Amara squinted into the distance, trying her damnedest to make out what the cars looked like. They were nothing but a blurry mirage, taunting her with their mystery. All she could tell was that they seemed a bit more uniform than your average line of cars, and maybe a tad bigger. But then again, what did she know? Probably just her imagination running wild.
As they got closer, she noticed the dark green of the paint, the boxy shape of the cars, those weren’t just regular cars. They were military. A convoy. Humvees, if she wanted to be more technical. Had Leon been right?
She had known them like the back of her hand, seen plenty of them on bases before but they usually weren’t in motion. Not going that fast. Especially towards her.
The trio stopped short in their tracks, Amara got closer to Leon, talking in a hushed tone. “I have a bad feeling about this.”
He looked at her, eyes darting between the cars and Sherry. Speaking up for the first time in a while, “It’ll be alright.” He squeezes her hand reassuringly.
Amara smiles at that; she can’t help it. Smiling at him had become something like muscle memory to her: “I sure hope so,” she said, and for a moment she truly believed it. She believed that the convoy that had descended upon them would be their saving grace. That everything would be alright just because Leon said it would be.
Guns. Shouts. Screams.
At them.
Guns pointing at them.
The situation turned on a dime that made Amara dizzy.
Heavily armed soldiers surrounded them in the blink of an eye. “Get on your knees, hands on your head!” One of the soldiers barked. All three complied, knowing that any sudden movements could be interpreted as a threat.
Amara is sure her heart would leap out of her throat from how hard it was beating but she couldn’t show that. Even the slightest bit of fear is enough for misinterpretation for these assholes.
She knew there was a reason she hated military types. Yes, even though she is also one in some regard. Even out and about or on nights out with Jill, they had—have a superiority complex and the need to do entirely too much.
This display would go on her list as one of those instances.
One of the soldiers, sidearm trained on them, held some weird device in his hand. He seemed hesitant to use it.
“Where did you come from?” He asked, not putting down his gun for even a second.
“Raccoon City,” Amara answered, trying to keep her voice calm. “We were just trying to get out, get away from the outbreak is all.”
The soldier, even behind a face covering, looked skeptical. “And where do you think you’re going?”
Amara holds back the smart ass remark at the tip of her tongue, lest she gives the soldier more reasons to hit them in the head with the butt of his gun. She’d been holding back quite a lot of them as of late.
“We were actually trying to find you,” Leon said. “Guess you found us instead.”
The soldier, not appreciative of Leon’s words, pressed the device into the back of their necks. Starting with Leon. A green light popped up on the screen. “No infection detected,” an almost pleasant robotic voice announced.
Shit.
Fuck.
Shit.
This is not going to turn out well. The second that device hits either her or Sherry’s neck. They’d know exactly what they are. Infected. Regardless of the cure and antiviral flowing through their blood, it couldn’t take away what had entered their system.
The national guard must’ve been sent out in the aftermath of the outbreak to patrol surrounding cities, it’s the only logical conclusion that Amara can come to while staring down the barrels of semi-automatic rifles.
Amara’s hazel eyes slowly settle on Leon.
She finds his eyes already on her. The tension radiates off him in droves.
There was no escaping this. The soldier held her firmly in place, she felt the cold prick of a needle briefly poke her flesh. She didn’t even hear the confirmation of what she already knew before they jerked her up on her feet. “They’re infected! Detain them now!”
Sherry’s screams, tears, and look of sheer terror as they drag her away from both Amara and Leon are ones that she knows she’ll never rid herself of, she tries to fight to escape their grasp even as their vice grip on both her arms is unbreakable in her current state, digging their gear into her back and making it hard to breathe.
She knows Sherry couldn’t bear the thought of being separated from them. They were all she had.
“What the hell?” Leon shouts, he tries to rise to his feet but finds a soldier knocks him off balance, knocking the breath out of him momentarily, sending him right back down to the ground. “We just survived a damn zombie outbreak and…and this is how we’re treated…?”
“Please don’t separate us,” Amara pleaded, even as she tried her hardest to drag her feet against the dirt, hoping to prolong the inevitable. “We’ve just been through hell, we can’t be separated now, please.”
“Orders are orders,” one of the soldiers replied coldly. “Everyone is being detained until further notice.”
So much for everything being alright.
—-
“Your protocols, your orders—whatever—are bullshit, I just want you to know that,” Leon speaks out into the dark, a lone, yellowish light hung over his head and dust particles float in the air. He can just barely make out what is definitely a camcorder on the other side of the glass a few feet in front of him, judging by the lens.
“Don’t note that for the record,” A man speaks over an intercom. He rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest, waiting for whatever comes next.
He never usually was one to disrespect authority figures, holding them in high regard because they do something most others couldn’t handle, but after the display he’d seen with Amara and Sherry?
Tough fucking luck getting any respect out of him.
Leon’s leg had been bouncing nervously ever since he sat down, he’d been a clusterfuck since they’d detained them just outside…was it Crescent Springs? He never caught the exact name.
All he knew was he wanted to kick his own goddamn ass for barely putting up more of a fight back there; but what exactly could he do against a bunch of armed soldiers? He was screwed over from the start.
Jesus.
Pfft. As if he was gonna do any good now.
This was his figurative cross to bear. All that’s missing was the stakes. If his mother could hear him thinking like that, she’d have probably given him a light smack on his head and a punishment of soap in his mouth.
He tended to avoid Dial soap any chance he got now.
“Mr. Kennedy.” The same voice from before broke him out of his thoughts. “We have the authority to do as we please with you. And the girls.”
There’s a sick twist in his gut at those words. Just what exactly did that entail? Becoming lab rats for the government for the rest of their lives? Killing him? Fuck that.
“Leave them out of this, they’re innocents.”
“Innocents who carry G antibodies. Don’t worry they’re receiving the best of care.”
“And what of me, then? Don’t suppose I have any value to you.” He doubts they’d keep a cop with only one day of experience under their watch. Leon’s thoughts gravitated towards thinking he’d outlived his usefulness more and more.
“Oh, but, Mr. Kennedy, you do. More than you think.” The man states plainly. “Bottom line is, you have the experience we’re looking for.”
He wouldn’t exactly count surviving a zombie-infested city by the skin of his teeth as experience, probably just some great goddamn luck. “And if I say no?”
“Considering you care so much about the girls…I’d think it’s in your best interest to accept this offer, should you not want any harm to come to them.”
He can’t help his eyes as they set in a glare at those words. Is he threatening him? He wanted to be defiant, and go through with saying no but he feels like he knows the alternative. They’d deem them all as having outlived their usefulness, they certainly had no qualms about getting rid of two infected individuals
They’d kill him.
Kill Amara.
Kill Sherry.
And that was something he couldn’t live with. What good could he do to protect them from such a cruel fate if he was six feet under?
Leon could be the buffer. The thing that is between them and living their life under a microscope.
Shit.
He’d do it to keep them safe. A little price to pay for their freedom.
“So, if you want this to end peacefully…you really only have one choice. Work with us.”
—-
Amara hates hospitals. She hates them so fucking much, she can’t really put it into words whenever anyone asked her to explain herself. Well, hate is a strong word. Dislike is the safer word to use here. But could anyone blame her? Everything was so glaringly white and depressing. And the smell? The hand sanitizer, sterile packaging, coffee, floor cleaner, a hint of blood and fear. All of it combined just gave Amara a headache.
Hospitals are where most bad news was received. A doctor’s office at least tried to make the experience a little less depressing, though Amara’s positive, the colors of puke green and boring beige were now forever ruined for her, not that they weren’t already.
Anxiety seeped into every aspect of Amara’s life, one physical manifestation being her newest habit, nail biting. She couldn’t exactly help it, being separated from Leon and Sherry and surrounded by doctors in hazmat suits didn’t help to relieve her nerves. The S.T.A.R.S. Team would surely be surprised to see the state she’s in, all of them were mostly level headed—utmost professionals in their respective roles but all of the new developments Amara had been through made her shake like a dog hearing fireworks on Fourth of July.
She just wanted, goddamnit, for once to not be poked and prodded, examined under a microscope like she was in a Petri dish. She certainly missed Leon too.
As she already knew, she’d been infected by William Birkin. So was Sherry. The scientists and the doctors didn’t let her forget that fact. They both carried G antibodies and so far, those effects were yet to be seen. She’d yet to see any government agents but she’s positive she’s seen them from the other side of the glass, observing, waiting for the right time to talk to her. That, or take her out, her two options didn’t scream that one or the other were the lesser of two evils.
The right time by their standards happened to be today. Just as she’d gotten halfway through a bout of wallowing in self pity, something new for her.
“Miss Moore, I hope the staff have been treating you well?” One of the agents asks her. Graves is on their name tag pinned to their suit jacket.
Amara fights a strong urge to roll her eyes. If this was the staff’s version of well, she shuddered to think what their bad treatment was. She shrugs before answering, “It’s been fine, can’t complain, can I?”
“You could, though I’m not sure anyone would listen,” the other agent answers, seemingly trying to lighten the mood. “I’m Agent Garcia, and this is Agent Graves. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. We also have a lot, as well as apologies for the scene back in the city.”
“Apologies not accepted. Do you enjoy further traumatizing little girls?” The picture of Sherry’s face, covered in fear, wouldn’t leave her mind.
“Look, we had to be sure—“
Amara cuts him off, her voice a bit more biting than she’d like. “We weren’t zombies? I don’t know how many people you’ve seen in your life but we are very much intact.”
Agent Garcia seems to chuckle, Agent Graves seems unimpressed with her rage, a glare morphing into an arrogant smirk, tilting his head curiously at her.
“Miss Moore, you seem to think you hold any position of leverage in how this conversation is going to go.”
Yeah, she fucking hates this guy.
“Don’t I?”
Amara is not at all shocked at what Graves is implying. She returns a sickeningly sweet smile back at him, though on the inside, she’s cursed him out many times over. Surviving Raccoon City was no easy feat, but it was a tad naive on her part to think the government would just let them go after everything. But this Graves guy thought he held all the chips in play, he was sadly mistaken.
“Well—“ Garcia starts to say, but his partner quickly cuts him off, a quick wave of his hand in front of him that pisses Amara off. He must be a real hit at parties.
“You and the girl carry G antibodies. We can do whatever we please with the both of you, you know that, right?”
“She’s an innocent. Leave her out of this.”
“Don’t worry, they’re going to take good care of her.”
“And what of Mr. Kennedy?” It felt strange using such a formality for Leon, but they didn’t deserve to hear his name from her lips.
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about either of them. You need to be more concerned with your next steps.”
“What? You going to kill me now?”
“Oh no, you’re far more useful to us alive. The doctors tell us that the G in your system has made you far more resilient than any human, in fact, we couldn’t kill you that easily if we tried.” The grin Graves wears is slimy, she feels gross just being witness to it. “You have the makings of an agent, seeing as you were a…STARS operative, was it?”
“Yes.”
“Everything else is figured out. All that really leaves is you…if you want this to end on good terms, the choice is simple unless you’d like to spend the rest of your life in a lab.”
Her mind drifted when faced with an ultimatum. When this all began, she thought things would be simple…in a more perfect world, maybe they would’ve been.
The case would’ve been cut and dry. But then Roslynn unknowingly—in extension, maybe John too—had brought Amara into something that was way above her pay grade, her capacity to handle.
One woman—team—up against a whole corporation, and a cover up. That was damn near impossible.
Now her own government wanted her to work with them but not on the merit of her skills (despite what Graves said), but because if anymore got out about Raccoon City, it’d paint them in such a light that they’d never recover from.
She got into this for a reason, this line of work was never going to be a walk in the park. When faced with the other alternative, the metaphor of the Petri dish looked more and more terrifying. A life lived under a microscope, being poked and prodded, watched essentially like a spectacle was no life at all.
Christ, she didn’t want that for herself nor Sherry. They hadn’t asked for this.
This was the better option, strategically.
Not to mention, keeping Sherry and Leon safe. No doubt she’d work out those conditions later but doing this secured their safety, right?
Fighting the people who did this to her and continue to do this to others made it more than worth it. But there’d be a cost. There always was.
—-
October 5, 1998.
It’d been a few days, the colors of fall had become more and more obvious to everyone. The vibrant reds, oranges, and yellow blended together to make what most would call the most beautiful time of year, not only that, but the weather dropped significantly.
Leon would’ve liked to be happy about the change in weather but something about it reminded him too much of what had only transpired only days ago. The freezing, torrential downpour and the chill in the air aren’t nice at all. Another part of him still couldn’t actually believe that it was only days ago and yet life still moved on, a jarring reminder that outside of Raccoon City, most were unaware of it all.
He wished he could be like them. Blissfully ignorant, numb to it all. With time, he’d probably get good at that. Going blank, thinking of nothing because it was so fucking much to think of everything.
Leon clung tighter to his jacket, he probably should’ve opted for something heavier as the wine was like a blunt force against his face.
His eyes were on a constant swivel. Technically, he should've been in training but the second he even got word from his “new” superiors and clearance, he knew he wanted to see her. See them both. Still, he couldn’t help but have that bundle of nerves twisting in his stomach.
Things moved so quick after he agreed to be part of their program. Agreed isn’t the right word—more like coerced—but he really didn’t want to dwell on it further.
The military hospital sat a little outside New York City. It served civilians and servicemen alike. Mothers and their children sat in the waiting room, men in their uniforms filling out paperwork, a couple of nurses were doing triage and checking in patients at a mobile desk.
It teemed with more personnel today, Leon looked out of place in his jeans and T-shirt.
“Uh, hi,” Leon greeted the receptionist at the desk with a small smile, she looked up at him briefly before going back to her computer. “I’m here to see Amara Moore? And Sherry Birkin?”
The whole room paused. Well, at least it felt that way. His words definitely made the receptionist give her full attention.
“Mr. Kennedy?”
He nodded in response.
“If you’ll give me just a moment, it’s protocol for that department to go through a few hoops, I’ll be right back, alright?”
Protocol. He’d become so fucking tired of hearing that word.
“Of course, I’ll take a seat then,” Leon dropped unceremoniously in the nearest chair as the receptionist stepped away to presumably call whoever she needed to call.
Leon lets the sounds of the conversations around him and the announcements over the intercom become background noise to his thoughts.
Considering now that it’s a waiting game. And he hates waiting. He just wants to see after everything, is that so hard? The red tape and hoops to jump through just to sit down and talk to someone.
He had been thinking about that night at the motel more than he liked to admit. He wasn’t kidding with himself when he thought himself to be a late bloomer, he wasn’t a virgin by any means but he certainly was a bit inept when it came to sex.
It didn’t help that his parents raised him on the tenets of their faith. Which meant no sex before marriage, no drinking, no swearing, no taking the Lord’s name in vain. Anything of that nature is pretty much deemed unholy and impure. Expected to be living in one set way because God has a plan for all of them. God forbid they’d miss a church service or forever be the shame of the neighborhood.
He’d long abandoned it. He’d long been a sinner anyways. Not exactly sure that a benevolent, loving God would have a plan to let someone suffer this much. Putting his faith in others is still a mixed bag but that was for another day.
Amara was just about the sweetest taste of sin he’d ever had, skin as smooth as silk and lips as sweet as honey.
As far as worship, he’d kneel at the altar of Amara Moore in communion as long as she’d let him.
Ineptitude, notwithstanding.
But, right now, he just wants them to hurry up…this bag of food hidden in his jacket can’t hold out much longer. He isn’t sure she’ll be able to eat it with all the rules but he thinks she probably needs some normalcy.
Well, as normal as one could get. Completely normal left the realm of possibility when everything came to light.
“Mr. Kennedy?” He looks up to find a doctor standing by the desk.
Here goes something.
—-
Amara really wants to just get out of here. Ever since Graves and Garcia left, she’d been waiting on word about transport. She hasn’t seen Sherry either, she really hopes she’s alright.
The hospital door slides open, Amara doesn’t have it in her to even want to see who it is. Probably another damn nurse, another damn doctor.
“You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to be a smuggler around these parts.”
A bag drops between her legs, leaving a dent in the blanket. A greasy, brown crinkled bag that reeked of high-fat high sodium cheesy goodness. In more simple terms, a cheeseburger.
Amara looks over to Leon. He’s dressed more casual and way cleaner than she’d seen him. Still as dreamy as ever.
“You’re a real sight for sore eyes, handsome,” Tears begin to form, blurring her vision just a bit. Leon looks less clear, more splotchy. She doesn’t want something as silly as tears to block her view of Leon but a burst of joy swelled in her chest. She pushes down the surge of emotion as Leon places a comforting hand on her shoulder.
“If I knew junk food makes you cry like this, I’d—“
“No, no, thank you, thank you for this!” She opens the bag and, to hell with being ladylike, stuffs her face.
The taste on her tongue is better than anything. Better than the bland MREs they’d been giving her, she’d suffered enough of those for 15 years.
Between bites, she gestures for Leon to sit down, using the napkins in the bag to wipe her eyes. He sits carefully on the bed across from her.
“Hope…you don’t think I’m apologizing for…this,” Amara jokes, moving herself from underneath the hospital covers. At least she’d had the sense to put on the sweatpants they gave her.
“I wouldn’t want you to, even if you tried.” He still looks at her as if she’d hung the moon and the stars in the sky, even as he wipes the dribble of the ketchup that ran down the side of her mouth. “How are you doing?”
She cleans up her mess, focusing solely on Leon now. “I could ask you the same thing.”
“I asked you first.”
“I asked you second.”
He chuckles, “I’m doing fine, all things considered.”
“Well now that you’ve told me that, I can say I’m surviving. A little better now that you’re here,” she takes his hand, taking it to her lips to kiss it briefly. There’s a short silence before Amara asks him about something she’d been thinking about a lot of for the past few days.
“So…uh, did you see about Racc-“
There’s a pained expression on his face as he cuts her off. “Yeah.”
By October 1, the very day they’d been detained, the situation in Raccoon City had become uncontrollable, and for some reason, the President of the United States authorized the bombing of the city. No hope of any survivors. Except them.
Her whole life in the city now burned to ashes, reduced to nothing. Leon’s promise of new life there too.
“Guess I can finally say this….thank you, Leon.” She’s not sure if that’s something he wants to hear but she says it anyway. He had to know that his efforts weren’t unnoticed despite it all.
He shakes his head in disagreement. “I don’t think you should be thanking me.”
“Why not? You did save my life, didn’t you?”
“Yeah, but look at where we are now…if I had known this would’ve been the outcome…” Leon sighs, running a hand through his hair. She imagines if he’d been standing, he’d pace the floor.
She gets exactly where he’s coming from. All too well actually. From escaping the city to now, this was certainly the last thing she’d ever expected. But this is how things were now and they had to learn to live with it.
She places a hand on his leg, bringing his attention back to her. “Leon, fucked up circumstances aside, you saved me from something way worse. With a bullet in your shoulder, no less. If it weren’t for you or Claire, both Sherry and I would have turned into monsters. We’d have been dead. You have to give yourselves some credit, at least.”
“I know, but—“
“Things look like shit right now, I know.” A wistful expression stole its way onto Amara’s face. “But—look, I don’t know what those G-men told you about me or even if they made you any promises or whatever, but I’d like to think right now we both made decisions that sucked but in the end…they’re right.”
If Amara was being honest with herself, it hurt to even say that. The toughest decisions never did make anyone feel like a million bucks.
Leon looks as though he could break into a million pieces, looking the way she felt. If she could read his mind she’s sure she’d hear him thinking the same as she was. I don’t want them to be right, I’d wish we made the wrong choices.
“None of this is ideal. But on the bright side, I can eventually tell the government to go fuck itself, right?” Amara attempts to lighten the mood, but Leon still holds just about the saddest look in his eye as he tries to laugh.
“This is a goodbye, isn’t it?” Leon asks, holding her face in his hands. His thumbs running over her cheeks briefly. She smiles only for a moment, there was no really insulting his intelligence.
Amara had long known she hated goodbyes. They were too final. She’d dealt with so many before, they’d left a bad taste in her mouth so she never made it a point to say it. She didn’t even know what the future held for Leon or for herself but she didn’t want to just assume the worst, she wanted to hold onto the small sliver of hope that while it seemed their paths were diverging, they’d cross again.
“Never. I don’t believe in goodbyes, you should know that about me,” Amara responded, placing her forehead against his. “Just think of this as a see you later, how does that sound?”
“That sounds…perfect to me, Amara.” He sighed again. “Really perfect.” He kissed her softly, then kissed her again with a fervor, making it more than clear he’d been trying to savor the taste of her. Amara was doing the same, wrapping herself around him, not caring where they were as the world faded away even for just a moment.
The door slid open once again, signaling that the real world had come crashing back in. She pulled away from Leon slowly, drinking in every single part of him, his eyes, his face…everything.
She didn’t want to forget a single detail.
“You should get going.…I love you,” she whispered the one crucial thing she’d been holding onto since the lab, and kissed him once again. “I love you. I love you.”
“I love you, too. I love you so much.” He peeled himself reluctantly away from her, heading toward the door, towards Graves and Garcia as they watched the scene in front of them. “I’ll see you later.”
“I know,” she called, watching him head out the door before she finally burst into tears.
Little did they know, their sense of timing would be so different from one another.
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil#oc amara webb#leon scott kennedy#re2 remake#resident evil 2#re2 remake fic#leon kennedy x black oc#leon kennedy x oc#Leon kennedy x mixed race oc#mixed race oc#cotd fic
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why Casino Cups Is a SUBVERSIVE MASTERPIECE
a character who has never met his biological parents and doesn’t give A SHIT, doesn’t have romantic subplot and is possibly aroace which is great representation (Cuphead)
a character that DOES want to meet his biological parents but has motives that actually make sense with his character, is very nice but has deep seated character flaws that drive him through his internal conflict (Mugman)
neither of these “never met their parents” cases have the cliche dramatic“I CaN neVEr BE a FuLFiLleD aNd cOmPLEte PerSOn uNLesS I knOW WhO gAvE BirTH tO mEEeeEe!” motive
the Devil and King Dice aren’t one-dimensional bad guys. They have done bad things but are far from irredeemable as characters and can’t really be pegged as hero or villain. They have heavy backstories, understandable motives, and even good intentions sometimes.
I’ve seen so many Cuphead fanfics that (given that the game takes place in the 1930s) make the characters and/or undertones sexist and homophobic to make it “historically accurate” but Casino Cups just throws all that bull shtick straight out the window. A character’s gender is never made relevant or even mentioned outside of other characters using their pronouns and it is bursting with queer representation which I am so freakin grateful for.
the themes it deals with about death and moving on in life are so unique and thought provoking for a Cuphead au. I have never seen anyone make this take on the cups and their relationship with the potion, especially not with Mugman.
the lore is an absolute GOLD MINE. All Bright’s theories and headcannons about why the isle is so full of magical creatures and people with crazy powers is so intuitive that even the tiniest details from the game like light shining out of the Devil’s neck or King Dice’s green eye animations can spout rich and in-depth backstory and something new and interesting about the characters or the worldbuilding that had never even crossed my mind before. It makes these characters and the world that they live in so fun to learn about as I read the comic and always leaves me wanting more of these looney tuney byatches.
just the right amount of shipping. Not too much, not too little. Just the right amount of shipping. Just the right amount of shipping. JUST����THE👏RIGHT👏AMOUNT👏OF👏SHIPPING
i of course have to mention Bright’s BEAUTIFUL art style. Honestly when I first saw their drawings of the cups I was a tad bit skeptical of how different they looked from their original designs in the game, but overtime I’ve grown to adore how grown up they look and their sick color schemes and card aesthetics.
I love this series so freakin much and I’m so proud of what it’s grown into and how far this religious toon town has come over the years. I can’t wait to see more now that Camodiel is taking the reigns. Remember to pack your tea, coffee, and just a little bit of whiskey and look out for soul collecting demons! I’ll see you at the casino!
#casino cups#cuphead#mugman#brightgoat#anyone else watch schaffrillas productions#the devil#king dice#camodiel
161 notes
·
View notes
Text
Virgins. [18+] (Jimmy Emmett x Reader)
♡ A/N: This took me wayyy too long to finish but I finally did it! I’m already planning out the next one-shot, which will be a sequel to this one and maybe a multi-chapter fic(?). I have to make sure that I plan it well or I will fuck myself over with that. Anyhoo, this is very AU and quite smutty. I aged Jimmy and the reader up to 18, just for my own sake while writing this because whew. I hope you all enjoy! -Persie♡
♡ Word count: 3,334 ♡
♡ Contains: Very NSFW, smut, first time sex ♡ –
Virgins. [18+]
Bashful…
.
That’s how most people would describe you; like a shrinking violet under the human eye. Curious yet hiding its vibrant beauty away from its admirer but that couldn’t be a description of you this night. This night, at the very top of midnight, you decided to sneak out of the home of your strict religious parents for a couple of hours of fun. Your chest heaving slightly as your adrenaline pumping through your body as you stood in your bra and panties front of your very first sexual mate to-be, a shirtless Jimmy Emmett. His bright green eyes glittered as he gazed at you, shifting on his sock-clad feet in anticipation with a crooked, boyish smile lighting up his features. To you, Jimmy was always a strange yet adorable goofball since you had met him at the beginning of the school year. All your life you had been told to stay away from boys and that relationships, even friendships, between the opposite sex was inappropriate but there was something about Jimmy. You liked him. You liked him a lot.
“Boys will say anything to take your innocence away from you,” your religious mother proclaimed. “It’s best of you stay away from them altogether. Preserve your value. Pray away the sin…,” she said.
Preserve your value, you thought with an inward sneer. You never understood it. Why was your value measured in that way? Was your humanity ever considered, you thought. You never felt that way with Jimmy, considering that you both had been friends with each other since the school semester started. He never seemed to pressure you into anything, only showing you a bashful kindness in friendliness and occasionally, buying you your favorite candy bar and bringing it to school to give to you. Russell and sometimes Lydia would tease him playfully about it whenever he would do small things like that for you, but it never stopped him, much to your delight. If anything, tonight was your idea to begin with, proposing the conversation after a straight-forward question was brought up during a pause in conversation.
“Have you ever had sex?” you asked suddenly during a surge of confidence while you both were hanging out in his backyard. The soft spring wind played in the grass before ghosting up your bare legs, revealed by your navy blue, pleated skirt. The question caught Jimmy off-guard, wrapping his lithe arms around his knees almost as if he were trying to protect himself from your reaction to his reply. “N-No, I never have…,” he answered shyly, looking away. He swallowed, his throat and his silver chain necklace moving as he did. He picked at the hem of his black Metallica t-shirt, the logo fading slightly from being washed incorrectly. You could see the intimidation clouding his expression, as if he were afraid to ask you the same. He finally glanced over at you, looking over your face like he was trying to detect a hint of amusement before looking down at your lips. To him, they always looked as if someone brushed crushed rose petals on them to make them look so fresh and pouty. It was one of the first things he noticed about you when you first transferred to the school and introduced yourself to class. They always looked so sensitive with your quick smiles and the way your pink tongue would run over them, making you immediately press your lips together as if to calm them down from the sudden stimulation.
“I never have…,” you spoke, interrupting his thoughts and his green eyes looking back up at you immediately. A blush erupted on his face, making him push out a needed sigh before he let out a breathy chuckle to loosen himself up again.
“Really…? I never guessed that, you know, you would ever want to with the way your parents are and everything,” he said, making you smile a little and smooth your hand down your skirt to straighten it out against your thighs. His eyes followed the movement, focusing on your thighs intently before looking back up at you when you spoke
“That doesn’t mean that I’ve never wanted to,” you replied coyly, making that lopsided smile appear on Jimmy’s face again. His mind was catching up with the suggestive undertones to your words, glancing around you both momentarily before focusing on you again.
“If you want, we could, you know…,” he suggested before blushing deeply at how meek he sounded. Your smile widened at the ruddiness grew in his cheeks, reaching out to try to smooth it away. You bit your lip, burying your hands in between your thighs.
“Well…,” you started in a purr, making Jimmy’s eyes immediately light up as you both began to plan out the next night. xox So, there you were, two aroused teenagers in a cheap hotel room that was paid for with the money that you both nicked from your parents, bodies trembling from the air thickening in the room as you stared at each other. The room smelled like cheap linen air freshener and the cologne that Jimmy decided to wear that night, probably to try to impress you. You could recognize the notes of amber, cedar and even a hint of clove. Your thoughts immediately cleared your head as Jimmy began to remove his distressed jeans, sliding off his slim hips and onto the floor. In the dim light, you could see his bright eyes suddenly darken and become hooded as he leered at you. His stirring manhood twitching in his grey boxer briefs. Your hand went up to your face, feeling how hot your cheek was and tried to calm your shaky hands by busying them with removing your light blue bra.
It wasn’t anything flashy since your mother always monitored or even bought your undergarments for you but in this moment, under Jimmy’s eyes, you felt seductive. Your bottom lip trembled, making you quickly bite as you let your loosened bra fall from your chest. Jimmy’s breath audibly picked up, tongue darting out to lick his chapped lips as his hand brushed over his hard shaft. Your nipples hardened immediately from the sudden air hitting them, making a soft groan finally erupt from Jimmy.
You were scared, unsure of yourself. You didn’t know what to do next, your heart hammering in your chest as you nervously slid your hands over your hips. Jimmy was a foot or so away from you, but you could still the warmth radiating from his body.
“Lay down for me,” he requested, his voice husky and not above a whisper. You could see his body was shaking as well but his voice was confident, even sultry. You couldn’t get another word out from your throat, managing to nod before slowly crawling onto the firm bed. It was covered in a dark red blanket, uniformly tucked and made perfectly but not for long. You laid on your back, feeling heavy from the nerves and her growing arousal. You immediately closed your legs once he climbed onto the bed, the cushion dipping a bit under his weight. Warm hands touched your knees, hesitating before running down your legs slowly; his touch felt comforting and made you feel like you were melting. Jimmy slowly spread your legs apart, making sure not to go too fast. Your body tensed when you felt his hands rub down, brushing across your soft inner thighs. Jimmy let out a choked groan just from feeling the smooth, hot skin. “You’re so warm,” he moaned quietly, his hands rubbing up your tummy and over your sides. He licked his already wet lips as he made his way to your breasts, his thumbs lightly brushing over the hard peaks and earning a hitch of a gasp from your cherry lips. Jimmy grunted, leaning down to capture your lips with his in a deep kiss. You moaned softly, immediately wrapping your arms around his shoulders to keep him close to you as your tongue swirled around his with obvious naiveté. You could tell that he was a bit more experienced than you in kissing with how he handled it, catching your tongue and suckling on it before biting your lip. His hand smoothed up between your breasts and gently gripped your neck, deepening the kiss more. You felt your breath leaving you until he finally pulled away, his lips a tad swollen before moving his hand to latch onto your neck. A brazen moan left your lips, his hot tongue continuing to focus on that spot before moving around to the other side of her neck. The sound of music playing in the hotel room next to yours, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere. You were never allowed to listen to any secular music but you always snuck to listen to it whenever you could and recognized the song to be a Nirvana song; the name you couldn’t recall at the moment as Jimmy feverishly, eagerly licked his way to your chest.
Come on over, and do the twist Over-do it, and have a fit Love you so much, it makes me sick Come on over, and do the twist Beat me outta me Beat me outta me…
Not necessarily the most ideal song to lose your virginity to but Jimmy latching onto your aching nipple quickly erased the thought from your mind, cupping the back of his head as you arched up into his mouth. “Jimmyyy,” you cooed, his darkened eyes looking up at you when you called his name. His hot tongue swirled around the pebbled flesh, a hot moan escaping him as he cupped your other breast and kneaded the soft flesh. It was enough to make you want to crawl up the walls; you had never felt anything like it before. He kissed around the swell of your breasts slowly, indulging himself as much he could. His mind was racing as he inhaled, kissed and touched every part of you that he could reach, his hands gripping your waist and squeezing to feel your soft flesh give beneath his fingers. He felt himself becoming drunk with the essence of you, your moans egging him on enough for him to give a soft bite to your side. It was enough to make you jolt, the sensation going straight between your thighs. He licked below your navel, pausing above your underwear. His eyes closed as he tried to calm himself, the warmth coming from between your legs. You could feel yourself dripping, your nectar practically coating the fabric. You felt a palm firmly press against your core, making your womanhood quiver in response. Your hand twisted into the blanket, a desperate moan leaving you as he caressed and stroked her through her underwear. “God, Y/N, you’re so wet…,” he moaned, quickly pushing her underwear to the side and delved his fingers into your entrance. He quickly slowed down when you let out a hiss of pain, clenching up around his fingers. “Sorry, sorry!” he apologized, kissing her thigh apologetically. “Just tell me when to go, okay? I-I don’t want to hurt you anymore,” “It’s okay. Just go a little bit slower,” you say, not recognizing your own voice. It sounded almost raspy in a pleasing way. Jimmy nodded, feeling your walls relax around his fingers before he slowly pushed once more. You felt nothing as he slowly thrusted his fingers, wincing a little in embarrassment at the squelching sounds of your syrupy arousal reacting to his thrusting digits. Suddenly, you felt him wiggle his fingers and rub against a certain spot that made your hips leap in surprise. Jimmy almost pulled back, grinning when he heard you moan out. “You like that?” he asked, his soft, trembling voice making you shiver in delight as he continued to rub the small ridged area that caused your reaction. Your hands shot down to clench at his brown hair, moans pouring from your lips as he continued. Passionate words running together with your girlish moans, his moans also filling the air as he used his free hand to stroke himself in time with his pumping fingers. He stopped stroking himself to bring his hand up to search for and clumsily rub at your jewel, his fingers slipping easily from your wetness. It took him a minute to stay focused as he found himself just stroking and exploring every inch of your wetness, in awe of how aroused you were. The thudding guitar riff from the room next to you wound through your body, making your head spin. You groaned when he suddenly pulled his fingers away, your womanhood pulsing and begging for relief. The feeling was so intense, nothing like you had ever experienced. With hazy eyes, you looked up at Jimmy as he removed his boxer briefs. He let out a coo once his hard shaft was released from the tight fabric, giving himself a couple of strokes to tease himself. His lean body settled between your legs, slim muscles undulating under his damp skin as he continued to slowly stroke himself. “I can’t believe this is happening…,” he moaned, his lust-filled eyes scanning your naked form. Your shaky hands settled between your sensitive breasts, feeling your heart hammer in your chest. Jimmy leaned over you, kissing your settled hands before his mouth settled onto yours. He kissed you deeply, moving so that his hips were cradled by yours. You tensed when you felt the soft tip of his shaft brush against your thigh and wetness as he moved his tip to your wet slit. Your mouth slackened against his insistent kisses, making him pull back to look into your eyes. “It’s okay, Y/N…,” he whispered huskily, his nose brushing against yours. “I-I’ll be gentle, I promise,” He gently, even lovingly, whispered soft words of assurance and comfort to you. You clenched at his shoulders, pausing before wrapping your legs around his hips. The movement made his nose bump a bit more into yours, making you both giggle in amusement at the clear nervousness. He pushed the random strands of hair from your face, placing soft kisses on your cheek and forehead. You blushed at the tenderness, but you welcomed it with open arms, moving your hands from his shoulders to rub up and down his back. He groaned softly once your hand rubbed a sore spot beneath his shoulder blade, soothing the ache with soft, warm determination. You gave him a nod, making the sparkle in his eye brighten in understanding as he began to push into you. Jimmy couldn’t describe the feeling even if he wanted to, but he wished that he could stay within you forever. His mouth dropped open as his hard member was immediately hugged and coated with your honeyed essence. He couldn’t help the sudden buck of his hips, quickly apologizing when your thighs clenched around him. A soft moan left you at the feeling of him filling your up, opening your eyes once you felt him reach your resistance being prodded by the head of his member. You could feel him pulsing against your walls, asking for your permission to follow through. You wordlessly answered by using your legs to squeeze at him. An acceptance, a sensitive smile edging at your swollen lips as you stared into his green eyes. Jimmy let out a strangled moan before slowly pushing forward, the barrier of your maidenhood breaking. You hitched a breath at the sharp pain, your nails digging into his smooth back. Jimmy let out a heavy breath, refusing the urge to slam inside of your welcoming warmth. You felt his labored breath against your face, the pain subsiding a bit as he patiently waited for your word to continue. “Go…,” you breathed, making Jimmy give out a moan of relief as he began to thrust into you. You winced a little as the pain continued with the first set of thrusts that he gave until it slowly melted into a growing pleasure. You could hear a new song starting in the background from the room next door, the thumping drum matching your heartbeat. The sound of Jimmy’s moans combined with the instrumental formed a song that you knew you would remember. He buried his face into your neck, latching onto the skin once more and sucking hard at the skin to leave a mark, claiming you. You let out a cry as his hips treated you with a particularly hard thrust, reaching deeper than you thought he could. Your teeth dig into his creamy shoulder in response, his eager hands gripping at your hips as he picked up the pace. His grip tightening more and more, his shaft plunging and out of you and taking you higher. One of your hands moved to twist in his brown locks, pulling much to his delight. Your tongue meeting the warm metal of his chain before latching onto the skin below his jaw. “Oh God…,” he moaned, the slight lisp in his voice almost gone and his tone deeper, rougher. After a couple of rough thrusts, he pulled back and sat back on his haunches and pulled you onto his lap. His hips ran up your waist, squeezing you possessively as he buried his face in between your breasts. The combination of sensations made your moans pour from your damp lips feverishly. You lifted your hips and crashed back down against his, crying out. Your legs trembled as you continued to ride him, his arms wrapping around your lower back to steady you before moving his hips up to meet your moving hips as they smashed against his own. Both of you, grinding and humping against each other, eager to reach your peaks as your hormones shot sky high. “You’re so beautiful,” he breathed shakily, his eyes dilated as he got closer to his release. You whimpered as you sped up, your head falling back as your hips slammed harder against his. His hands moving to grip your hips once more, helping you move on top of him. The pace was erratic and off-beat but neither of you cared, the grunts and moans coming from him making your release come closer and closer. Your walls tightened more and more with every single crash of your hips, your hands desperately clasping at him as you felt your breath leaving you. He suddenly licked up your exposed neck; the sensation making your release wash over you as you cried out in completion. Your walls quivered around him as your cum dribbled down his hard member. You let out a weak moan as your back hit the bed as Jimmy climbed back over you, plowing into you roughly as he chased after his own release. Your damp skin rubbing against his as he continued to moan and grunt into your ear, grinding against you roughly. His hips finally paused before giving a hard thrust, his hot seed coating your sensitive, pink softness. He gave shallow thrusts as you milked him, pulling him in for the moment before he slowly pulled out. You winced slightly as he did, feeling him collapse next to you. Jimmy stared up at the ceiling, his hands settled on his chest as he swallowed hard. You gazed over at him once you felt his eyes on you. They were back to their soft green color, dancing in the dim light of the room. He hesitated, looking down for a moment, his reddened lips parting. “I…I wanna stay here. Just for the night…,” he whispered. You moved to lay on your side, a warm smile gracing your lips. “Me too,” you said, just as quietly. In that moment, you didn’t really care about what the repercussions would be in the morning and honestly, to you, it didn’t really matter. Jimmy’s arms immediately wrapped around you and held you tight as you both fell asleep to the sound of the rotating, muffled music floating in the air. ♡
#jimmy emmett#jimmy emmett x reader#to die for#fanfic#joaquin phoenix#joaquin phoenix x reader#joaquin phoenix fic#smut#joaquin phoenix smut#to die for (1995)
136 notes
·
View notes
Text
Thoughts on Lucifer (TV) Season 4
So I've spot-rewatched parts of season 4, and I've more or less got a sense for what did and did not work for me. Lucifer is the kind of trash television I reluctantly love because I enjoy the characters so much, even as they are stuck in a painful mishmash of bad writing with the occasional moment of brilliance carried along by dedicated and talented actors.
SEASON 4 SPOILERS AHEAD OBVS
Let's get what I didn't like out of the way first -
Stuff That Makes Me Cringe
1.) Up first is my completely shallow dislike for the new devil makeup. The wings were really well done, but the face/body is kind of meh to me. It's not badly designed, per se, but it's definitely narm territory in some places. (While I do like the whole "king of hell" scene at the end and what it portends in terms of Lucifer's final decision, it is hilariously campy, too.) In my opinion, season two and three still feature the best up-close devil look, particularly in the reveal scene to Linda. It's disturbing in an uncanny valley sort of way that gets lost with the heavier makeup, and also...the wet blood is a really nice, creepy touch that I'm sad got dumped after the first try!
Also shallow opinion - Tom Ellis is fine as hell, don't get me wrong, and I appreciate that he worked out like crazy for this season, but I actually kind of miss his slightly less muscular look from the earlier seasons. I feel like he's a guy who looks better with shoulders that are a tad less broadly defined, yeah? It felt like it made more sense for Lucifer to be well built but not hyper muscular, since he wasn't a warrior in the way, say, Amenadiel or Michael were. Samael was the tempter - he's built for beauty and desire, with kind of a sly appeal to him.
2.) Eve. I really like Eve as a character over all, but I do wish her motivations were explored more explicitly. I do really like the vaguely feminist undertones of her story, that she's a woman whose entire life has been dictated to her by God and husband, and her decision to leave Heaven is a rebellion against that, a desire to pursue what she wants for herself even as she struggles to break free of old patterns. While the story does seem to suggest this is her true motivation, I do wish it was given a little more individual reflection. The thing I find the most poorly handled about her character is the punishment fascination. I get that it's part of her tendency to try and mold herself into what she thinks the men in her life want, good or bad, but I would've liked more clarity on whether it held any personal appeal to her - i.e. she discusses her son, Cain, but there's little attention given to what it must have been like for her to watch him walk the Earth cursed, much less losing her son Abel to Hell. Does she resent God? Is she angry that human life is so short yet the recompense for a life well or poorly lived is so permanent? Does she feel like her life was stolen for her in a way that other human's choices weren't?
She's already a foil for Lucifer in that she's daring to go against God's plan to explore her own freedom of choice, with the major caveat being that she left Heaven willingly in contrast to his exile. So while I do feel she was a relatively well rounded character (as far as she could be with what they wanted to do with her), a little more exploration of those motivations was in order, but I absolutely would love for her to come back in a potential season five. She has a lot of opportunities for growth and a lot of directions they could take her.
3.) Mazikeen. I'm actually not completely unhappy with the direction of her story. It feels like a natural continuation of her struggles in season 3, learning how to "human" and find her place in the world, but the problem is she isn't being given much to do outside of that. I like that her relationship with Linda is emotionally complicated (it's honestly one of the best female friendships on the show) with elements of platonic, erotic, and maternal love woven into it, but that the story is making it clear she still needs to learn how to develop herself independently. In season 2, Lucifer states that Maze is like a "baby bird that imprints on anything near." Now that we know demons are naturally inclined to want leadership and direction, that actually provides a literal context for why she's clinging to Linda for purpose afterwards. We just need to move that into a more strongly defined character arc. Since we know have the Lilim introduced as a legitimate threat, I feel like that's a no-brainer for what should happen if season five occurs with her. Let's see a storyline with Maze dealing with her family history (the Lilith), having to confront the fact that Hell is no longer her home, while grappling with a life on Earth minus the companion she's had for nearly all of her existence (Lucifer). Let her evolve into a fully fleshed out character.
4.) Cain. I'm not sad to see him go out with a whimper since they clearly had no idea what to do with his character in season 3, but the fallout gets completely brushed over way too easily. There's no way a federally investigated criminal revealed to be chief of the LA police wouldn't lead to absolute chaos in the precinct for quite a bit afterwards, and God knows, Chloe certainly would've been under the microscope for her role in what went down. It would've made more sense to have a throwaway line about how she was suspended for a month and kept away LA proper for a few weeks until they made certain the danger was clear and the drama had settled down media-wise.
5.) Chloe. I'll be up front that I actually don't mind her more dramatic response to Lucifer's face. For how easy it is to want to imagine she would handle it better, we've seen pretty much everybody freak the hell out when they see it, so she really shouldn't have been different. The context also matters significantly here - she encountered it at a violent crime scene shortly after he killed a person. HUGE difference from how a lot of the other characters were introduced to the truth. So I don't find her characterization completely OOC there, but what I wouldn't give for just one more episode this season exploring her feelings during that period, what drove her to Europe, what destabilized her sense of who and what Lucifer is. What I do like is that we got to see her make mistakes and have to answer for them - up until this point, it's been about Lucifer improving who he was to be somebody worth pursuing, but here we finally get to see Chloe's flaws, her struggles to be the better person she wants to be, to get told 'you f*cked up' and have to accept that she's possibly missed her chance. I felt like her relationship with Eve was well done, that they didn't go the easy route of them being catty with each other all season, but that each provided a different but ultimately legitimate perspective on Lucifer's complicated character. She could easily be set up as a primary protagonist of season five now with all the changes she's going through.
6.) The Father Kinley plot. I actually have no real problem with it for the most part - it provides a central antagonist that is far more threatening than Cain ever was, but I do wish they'd rethought the story of his introduction to Chloe. It seems to me it would've made more sense for him to seek her out in America. As a writer, I would've kept Chloe relatively local and had her confessing her fears and secrets to a local church pastor - who could have contacted the Vatican and brought Kinely to her in L.A. That would've conveyed a sense of Kinley's operation being part of a vast network of religious authorities "in the know" and provided a possible set up for later conflicts if there were others out there like him. Kinley actively seeking her out would've also reinforced her sense of how dangerous Lucifer is knowing that authorities had been tracking him for years, which could have undermined her own beliefs about who he is.
7.) The Caleb plot. I get what they were trying to do, and I appreciate that the show attempted to go there even as it is didn't fully succeed in treating the subject matter as well as it should have. I get that it's meant to show us that life can be unfair, and that embracing the right to free will comes with the potential cost of suffering, that we must accept the risks of loving and caring for each other. However, at the end of the day, you have a male POC killed off for a plot that ultimately leads nowhere, and that's...not great. I mean, I'd rather them try and stumble then completely ignore such things, but it's definitely not the season's shining moment.
8.) Other thing this season didn't shine on - the pacing. I get why it happened, since these writers are used to having more leeway to work with time-wise, and ten episodes is not a whole lot to pack in all of the emotional and story conflicts, but the first four episodes in particularly really feel strained. Even the humor feels slightly off kilter, like they were struggling to find the right tone. It's better than season three's tendency to sacrifice pathos for humor, but to date, season two remains their best work in terms of the over all pacing and tone.
9.) Dan. His backsliding and self-destructive behavior makes sense in light of his depression and sense of powerlessness, but it does feel redundant in light of Lucifer's own backsliding in season 3 and even here. Frankly, Dan has a legitimate point about how their tendency to write off Lucifer's worse behavior doesn't help him in the long run, but he's, y'know, one to talk. I honestly think the best direction for his character in season five is to leave the police force. In particular, I would not be unhappy to see him team up with Mazikeen to fight some supernatural demon crime, actually. I feel like their relationship has a lot of potential.
10.) Dan/Ella. I don't hate it, per se, but I'm just very neutral on it. The age difference is a little off-putting (he's fortyish, divorced with a kid, yo, and she's clearly a twenty-something), but I don't mind it being a hook up that occurred when they were both in a low place. I'm uncertain if I want to see it go beyond that.
11.) Remiel is a lot of fun, but I vacillate over whether her presence is particularly significant in light of Amenadiel's ultimate decision to stay on Earth. I highly suspect she's being introduced now as a placeholder for further events down the road if the show gets renewed. She's clearly there to generate conflict in Amenadiel rather than be the conflict itself, but I wonder if they plan on making Charlie's existence more of an issue if the series progresses.
12.) As always, I appreciate that the series' maintains an unflagging dedication to diversity. They cast an Israeli Jewish women as Eve. All of Lucifer's siblings have been POC. The show has probably MORE bisexual members in the cast than any other mainstream series that I've seen. It's not perfectly handled, it it definitely has its stumbles where race and LGBT+ content is concerned, but it's trying. That's more than I can say for most series.
The Stuff That Gives Me Life:
1.) Tom Ellis acting the shit out of that script, no matter how ridiculous the scenes they gave him were. I really appreciate that he's so gung-ho for giving his all to the character even when the material fails to rise to the occasion. Respect, too, for what I assume was basically him living in a gym for the past year. If Leslie Ann Brandt had to squeeze herself into leather pants two months after giving birth, I appreciate that he rose to the occasion for getting naked all over the place and providing an ass tight enough to bounce a quarter off it.
2.) Lucifer's character development was on point for me across the entire season. I feel like everything we saw building up from previous seasons - the anger, the grief, the self-inflicted wounds he refused to let heal - finally came together here. That moment at the end of episode eight is the perfect culmination of his character development, the painful realization he has about who really is responsible for everything that's happened to him. And now he can start making the real journey to being a better person. What happens at the end of the season is exactly what was bound to happen, no matter what story came before, because he needed to recognize the importance of punishment as a LESSON about the consequences of our actions. Responsibility sometimes means sacrificing what we want to protect what we care about. That's actually a rather clever nod to the comic version of the character who ultimately had to give up his individual existence to achieve total freedom - this version chooses submission out of recognition that to love and be loved, to be good is to be fettered to our responsibility to others.
(Which makes me really wonder if they are going to eventually push a story where Lucifer becomes a true king of Hell - not only a tyrant who deals punishment and controls the demonic masses but one who begins to show mercy and help some of those souls find release and forgiveness. Ah well, don't worry friends, if they don't write it in show, I'm already writing it in a fanfic.)
3.) Deckerstar 4 lyfe. I didn't expect them to wind up together because they weren't there yet, but it ended on such a pitch perfect note. Something this show has done remarkably well is avoid the idea of Chloe as the sole source of motivation for Lucifer to improve himself. It's emphasized over and over again that he has to want it, that he's the one who had to desire the good in himself. The worthiness comes with the recognition that you want to be worthy of love - and that you are. Lucifer had to come much farther than she did, but it was nice to see the dynamic switched up a bit with Chloe having to grow, mature, and reconcile herself to her mistakes.
4.) Eve was MUCH better as a character than I'd thought. I'm a little smug about predicting so much about her, but that's not an entirely terrible thing. While her storyline isn't perfect, I did like that it's a deconstruction of an idea of the "perfect woman/partner." Eve is in love with the idea of Lucifer and the idea of who she can be with him, not so much the reality of who they are. It makes me a little sad because I do think if they'd met at a point where she was further along in her character development, or he wasn't already in love with Chloe and so far ahead of her in growth, they could have actually worked and fallen in love with each other. And that's fine! Part of the point it's making with her character is how important our individual journeys are. At the end, Eve recognizes she needs to figure out who she is outside of God's plan or what she THINKS is what she wants. That honesty toward the end, that she really left Heaven for *herself* and not for Lucifer, is a huge revelatory character point that can go a lot of places next season.
5.) The demons. Just...everything with Dromos is gold to me. From his initial excitement at seeing Lucifer to his frustrated attempts to reason with him...to being much craftier and scarier than anybody possibly expected. Regardless of how we look at it, he played the endgame to the benefit of his stated purpose - loyalty to the infernal throne. Hell has a king again, one way or another. And now we have an established threat to keep Lucifer in line over the next couple of seasons, as well as tying up the arc that was begun all the way back in season 1.
6.) Pulling in the Vatican and a secret society of "in the know" sects was wise. While I wish the introduction had been slightly different, it leaves open opportunities for later.
7.) MY GIRL LINDA. Rachel Harris is such an underrated part on the show. She has such great chemistry with Ellis in the therapy scenes, and her becoming a mother feels like a natural extension of the underlying maternal element she provides the show. I like that we get to see her outside of the office now, engaging in a story of her own, which allows her to stay in the cast without losing significance of no longer being Lucifer's therapist.
8.) AMENADIEL. He's probably had the strongest and most well directed character development out of any secondary cast member on the show. Having him forfeit his power to stay on Earth with the humans he loved is such a nice touch, but I like that it was a decision he had to wrestle with. The idea of human life necessarily being complicated, messy, even unfair and unkind fits well with the theme of responsibility for our choices. If he stays on Earth, he has to accept that his son will not have a perfectly Heavenly life, that to be human is to accept all that comes with it. DB Woodside has great chemistry with the cast, and I'm looking forward to seeing what they'll do with him in future seasons.
9.) Lucifer holding baby Charlie for two seconds, awkwardly cooing at him, then immediately passing him off like a hot potato. That's real character development, guys.
10.) Amenadiel saying goodbye forever to Lucifer in the baby ward, for what is ultimately and tragically not the reason he expects it to be the last time he gets to say it. Woodside and Ellis have such great chemistry.
11.) Ella's loss of faith is handled pretty well. I appreciate that she had to reclaim it herself and not because she got to see the divine is real. Fits nicely with the theme that we have to actualize our own beliefs and realities.
12.) LGBT+ representation was better this season. It's too late for Lucifer's pansexuality to have any real meaning at this point, but I appreciate him stroking the guy's face while using his eye voodoo in episode 1. Little touches like that make the "Bi the way" aspect of his character seem less tacked on. Mazikeen, on the other hand, is where things got much better - she's actually seen dating both men and women, having difficulty parsing her complex emotional relationship with Linda, being openly attracted to and pursuing Eve (also openly bisexual). Please don't disrupt this improvement next season by giving her a male love interest, Netflix, I'm begging you. Give us at least SOMETHING here. She's got the most open-ended story for a relationship, and her development is clearly suggesting she wants family to call hers outside of what she has with the rest of the cast. (I know I was saying I low key ship her with Dan, BUT I TAKE IT BACK.)
13.) The dragon wings are admittedly very cool looking. I prefer the more streamlined devil makeup otherwise from seasons 2 and 3, but the wings can stay. I imagine the amount of fic tagged "wing kink" on Ao3 is going to increase several fold now. (Yes, that is an actual thing.)
14.) Lauren German showing up to play this season! She finally gets to do more than just be the straight man. All of her dramatic moments with Ellis were well done. No complaints. I have way more faith now seeing her move into a primary protagonist role in season 5 if we get it.
15.) LESLIE ANN BRANDT CAN SING!!! What a sweet moment and what it says about Mazikeen's development as a character (even if it is ruined by Eve's obtuse logic afterwards). How much do we want to bet that Lucifer's reaction to that is what made him decide to leave her behind on Earth?
16.) AJKLSJD;FLSAFDAS THANK YOU FOR FINALLY BRINGING IN MORE SUPERNATURAL STUFF. We finally get to see the throne!!! There are prophecies!!! WINGS!!! (How cool are Remiel's??) Demons can possess people canonically! The Lilim are a well established thing! Lucifer is back in Hell! So many place this can go now.
Anyway, I have good feelings for the most part. It’s still a heavily flawed series, but it’s not so bad that I’m going to dive out of it ala Hemlock Grove, which I’m fairly certain gave me brain damage by mid-season 2.
14 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Author and Her Reader
In the jungle of cement and lights, rain fell, the cold and damp atmosphere was the equalizer. Falling upon any head it could touch. Two heads remained untouched, that of the Author and the Reader. It matters not if they lived in the same city or state or even if they lived in different hemispheres entirely. All that mattered was what they shared: the day, their contented words, and the rain.
Next to a great window, wearing a worn and soft sweater sat the Reader. In her lap was her own love, tenderly her fingers trailed up the spine and over for what could have been moments or an eternity. Pouring over with total adoration and intrigue, spread open for her perusal alone. No matter how many hands before had felt what she felt, in that moment it was completely their own.
The book in her lap was an unusual read, in that it was a step outside of what she normally took in. The author wrote in bright prose about the most cynical subject matter. Understanding the beauty in darkness and a newfound fear of the light. Heavy rain and the city hustle just down and below her paired so well with it. Every now and again she would take moments of introspection to try and better understand the author and story.
There was something so intimate in reading the writing of another, especially a story. You would be left to wonder how many masks they had to try on in order to write their characters and the hours spent trying to manipulate the words in just the way they wanted. The Reader found herself enraptured by these words. In an attempt to further understand the author she went to the library to learn more but became discouraged once she discovered that not only did the author use a pen-name that was ridiculously vague, but they had only published three novels.
Dejected, she would return home wondering if perhaps there were only three stories for a reason, maybe they existed as humans do: once in cheerful life, once in satisfied death, and once in peaceful purgatory. Was there a religious reference to the three, of a father, a son, and a holy ghost? The latter seemed a tad ironic given the often… salacious tone in which the author seemed to write. Even in its lewd undertones, there was something so playful in how it was written; often times the Reader would allow herself to believe that she truly did know the Author. Allowed herself to pretend that the Author poured over each of those stories with the prayer that they would fall into the hands of her dearest reader.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The reader may have been so pleasantly surprised to know that her guilty fantasy was closer to the truth than she had anticipated. It was all a bit closer. Long before any eyes had come to unfold the work of the Author, she sat hunched over a few pages for weeks, only to viciously tear them apart then build it up again until it was as she wanted it. Such was the cynicism of the creator.To contrive and hone and publish the story took upwards of a year. As did the two that would follow her first. Every ounce of her being went into that first book, all of her pride and insecurities lay within those pages.
She hid under the alias of R. Grey. How odd it was to choose a name that fills one with such jubilance but, to swear never to tell a soul for fear that they may learn too much. Later now the author hid on her terrace overlooking a sopping wet city, elated at the idea that enough people had read her work to keep her in a job, but not one of them knew who to attribute all of those intimacies within the pages to. She allowed herself a smoke, letting the toxin fill every part of her and blew it up and out of her. It wafted and swilled past a great window. Close in distance and mind, but years apart were the Author and her Reader.
4 notes
·
View notes