#well... i have so many thoughts about this. like rip to elliot who had to hear me analyse the report it gave for blond man back when i did

[longbobmckenzie]

Season 6 Volume XII Thoughts

Once again, Jamal getting salty was dumb. Stop it. It's OOC, he's not Hamish.

Who on earth wants to do a heartrate challenge FIRST THING IN THE MORNING?!?! This is one of the biggest problems with the season - they've packed so many challenges into it and so much random drama with Amelia/the LIs/Grace and Ozzy that they don't have any chill morning scenes. The morning episodes should be the ones where we get to know the other characters and have group chats, the afternoon should be challenges (other than heart rate), evenings should be recouplings and more group chats and sexy games. and going to bed with our LIs!!

How have I had more bedroom scenes with ELLIOT who I've never said BOO to than with Roberto?!

I couldn't let Elliot dance on me, sorry. I just am sick of having to turn him down

Okay, the heart rate challenge. THE WRITING WAS SO GOOD?!!! Like, this was the first few episodes all over again but make them spicy!! The characters had personality, bounced off each other, and the dances were so well written! AI doesn't do explicit stuff so they were forced to use a human writer and whaddaya know, you get one of the best episodes of the season

I will say though that I'm disappointed I couldn't dance on all the guys. The first dance was amazing, but almost everyone else danced on multiple people? And we had to use a gem scene? Which I used to dance on the same person again anyway and it wasn't even as good?

Also the dancing was spicier than the underwhelming sex scene after the recoupling, which cost 29 gems, was a little confusing, and was over in a couple lines. Make it make sense

Amelia and Toby are so fucking cringe and I cannot. Girl you just met him. You're Grace on day 1 all over again. He's not even that great

The pool scene with our LI after the challenge was very cute. Roberto talked about missing his family when he's away so much and how he wants to start one of his own 🥺

Also, the mental image of him mowing the lawn shirtless??? YES PLEASE!!

I think Roberto brought up the hot tub date on at least 3 separate occasions in this volume

It's disappointing (once again) that after almost a whole season, every chat with my LI is about the same stuff over and over again. The hot tub date. The Snog, Marry, Pie challenge. The heartrate challenge. C'mon, Fusebox. You can't really think we want this? I know you love your AI because it saves you money, but we shouldn't be able to tell. We want to learn new things about our LIs, get to actually know them, and instead every gem scene is almost a carbon copy of the last one

Happy for Ozzy girlies who finally get to couple with your man. And ripping Grace a new one was great too. I can't believe she picked him AGAIN though if MC doesn't?!?! Girl...

Roberto with a baby next week? Roberto with a baby next week. EEK!

[artblock-tm]

Can I get the director's commentary on literally anything you want from Shadow Rift. You can do the whole book if you want. I wanna hear your thoughts

Okay okay okay SO! Grr Shadow Rift. Me and my complicated relationship with Shadow Rift………

For those who don’t know DP Lore, Shadow Rift was a fic originally posted to a different website by a different author. The author wanted to abandon it, but I really enjoyed it, so I reached out to them and asked if I could continue it. Shockingly, they agreed, but I had to follow the original idea for their story.

Writing (part of) og Shadow Rift really dipped my toes into fic writing, and was what initially drew in some of my oldest readers (hi Marci). However, after some years of improvement as a writer with the publication of Masked, I just… didn’t like the story anymore. So I reached out to the original author again for permission to rewrite it and they basically just gave me full control of Shadow Rift.

I won’t talk about it too much since they’ve asked to remain anonymous, but they weren’t satisfied with it either but didn’t have the spoons to finish it. And that’s what brought us to Shadow Rift THE REWRITE!

Now that I think about it… I wish I hadn’t deleted my SR planning doc as soon as the epilogue was published… oops.

ANYWAY. SR is quite different from the original, both in quality of writing and character. While the plot moved generally in the same direction, some lore things were changed and the characters actually had concrete ARCS! WOAH! INCREDIBLE!

Like Hat Kid had an arc that improved her view on the world, however subtly. Although you may argue that it was the return of her soul that did this, the soul was only the macguffin. Her developing relationship with Snatcher is what made her develop as well!

Speaking of Snatcher… ugh he was so fun to write. I loved his and Hattie’s dynamic of continually butting heads. I love the parallels that originally appear as foils… AND it was great to make Snatcher an actual character too! I got to fill him with transgender allegory! Happy pride!

However, the character that drew the most evil giggles from me as I planned how to screw over was none other than Elliot. Oh, Elliot, how I love putting you through the wringer. I also had so much fun giving him a new character arc… in the opposite direction of Snatcher’s.

While Snatcher’s perception of himself merges together and he comes to accept himself and Elliot as the same person, just with changes, Elliot comes to make a distinction between himself and Snatcher. Snatcher is okay with himself, including Elliot, but Elliot isn’t.

Snatcher to me is a lot of hard edges with a softer demeanor. Even though he’s soulless, that doesn’t make someone incapable of kindness (like Hattie thought).

But Elliot is the inverse. He’s all soft edges with a sharp pointed center. And, understandably, the events he’d been through- bodysharing, getting cursed, literally mind-merging with Snatcher for a hot minute- wore his patience thin. It doesn’t help that his fate, like Hattie’s, was swiftly approaching, only his was unavoidable.

It shouldn’t be selfish to want to live, but isn’t it tragic that his actions only ended up speeding the process of his and Hattie’s death? Hehe.

Those are my thoughts on the main characters, but there are some minor ones I’d like to comment on too.

I’m sure that many readers noticed that Karmin wasn’t originally part of AHiT! Yes, I used Shadow Rift as an excuse to write her more. And if you noticed that the arc with her was surprisingly open-ended, that was intentional! You see, I did it for thematic purposes. I’m not gonna hold your hand on this one though.

More importantly, though, Vanessa.

Urgh. Vanessa.

I’ve never been able to write her adequately (UNTIL RECENTLY!! I LISTENED TO MISS MISERYGUTS BY RIP AND EVERYTHING CLICKED!! EVERYONE SAY THANK YOU TO GRACEBETH3604 FOR INTRODUCING ME TO IT!!!), but I’ve had kind of a renaissance on Prince and Vanessa characterization recently. SR!Vanessa was a way for me to experiment with a Vanessa that regretted her actions.

But don’t get me wrong- she doesn’t regret them because she’s becoming a better person- she regretted her actions because they had consequences for her, too. She lost her prince and she came to grieve that loss, but not what she did.

(Also Elliot getting cursed was essentially a nod to Gracebeth3604 also. A!au my beloved. Makes me go insane)

For those people who know the original story, they’d know that the whole thing stayed in Subcon. I thought that was rather stale, so I had the setting move to Alpine, and then to Time’s End. That was fun :)

and ummmm I think I’ve run out of things to say! Sorry I started watching a movie in the middle of writing this and for so caught up in analyzing it that I forgot everything I meant to say

[setagaya-division]

Yorii's Thoughts on Shinagawa Division

Ritsuko Okada

Yorii stares at the photo of the Chuohku scientist, an unreadable expression on his face. He displays no sort of emotion, though his free hand is balled into a fist. After a long time of just staring at the photo, saying nothing, he finally opens his mouth to speak.

"...I don't remember much of my past, unfortunately. I know that I was born in a lab, along with many others of my kind. The one time that I was awake, I remember waking up to find myself in a tank full of water, a breathing apparatus on my face, no idea of who or where I was, or what I was doing in a tank. Then this strange woman with black hair, cold bluish-green eyes and a scientist's uniform on came in front of me. She mumbled some words and then continued on her way. That was all I remembered before I went back to sleep. And I did hear one of the words she said. I think it was... 'imperfect'."

"When... when next I awoke, I couldn't tell where I was. I was... aware, but I couldn't say or do anything. It's like I was trapped in my own mind! I could move sure, but my actions weren't my own. I... I was essentially just nothing more than a robot!" Yorii's hair gradually starts to change color as his voice gets deeper.

"That wench said that I was "imperfect". Imperfect! What she meant by that is that I wasn't as good or better than the ones who came after me! And that I wasn't as good as the one she upheld above all the rest! That... that copycat!!" Yorii growls as his eyes become red.

"Well... I'll tell you this now wench: you'll see just how "imperfect" I am at the D.R.B.! You'll see for yourself just how "worthless" I am compared to your precious #1! And you'll see how "perfect" your precious #1 is, after I rip him to shreds in front of you! And after I am done with him, you will be next, you meinu!"

Miho Kobayashi

"Miho Kobayashi... yes, I'm acquainted with her. Her company, E.L. Medical Co., they helped to sponsor one of my concerts. I met her afterward, and she said she enjoyed it! Can you believe it? I asked if she wanted to talk more over dinner, but she declined. I wasn't too torn up about it, though. Just knowing a C.E.O. is friendly with me is enough. Plus, I think Elliot may have something for her... or not!" Yorii laughs at his joke.

Sumire Shinomiya

"Ah, Sumire. I met her by chance once when I was in Shinagawa. I was just exploring the city until it was time for my concert. I wind up, accidentally, infiltrating her and her group's secret hideout." Yorii rubs the back of his head, looking sheepish. "I swear, it really was an accident! When I stumbled into the place, everyone's eyes fell on me, and I thought they were going to do something drastic to keep me quiet, which would have never worked by the way."

"Thankfully, it seemed as if they were an accommodating group. They showed me around their base, which was pretty nice, I'll admit! I would have liked to stay longer, but I had to leave if I wanted to make it to my concert on time. Sumire showed me a quick way out, which was nice. It's a shame Elliot dislikes her. I think he would have gotten along with her and her group if he gave them a chance."

CodeX

"Elliot said that he was nervous about facing this team, yet he was also excited about it. In a way, I can understand him. This team... it frightens me, but also excites me, but for a purely different reason. It's so I can teach the woman in charge a lesson." Yorii's transformation begins as he turns into his alternate self.

"You'll see what I'm made of at the D.R.B., Okada. And when its over, you and your cohorts will learn what it truly means to be "imperfect"! I promise you that."

[starcasticallyyours]

starcastic’s fun facts about writing Art and Artifice

So, my Vmin Regency AU Art and Artifice is finally finished!! This feels rather surreal because I worked on almost nothing else for the past 6 months. It was such a good experience though because not only did I enjoy myself immensely with the craft and execution of this story, but the people who regularly commented were so wonderfully encouraging and made me feel like the sunken cost was all worth it. Thank you again, I love you all so much!

A lot went into the making of this story, so I really want to share more about how I wrote it as well as pointing out little Easter eggs I included, both relating to BTS or the time period. If any of this interests you, keep reading below!

FUN FACTS FIRST!

Not sure if anyone got this, but the title is in fact a riff on Pride and Prejudice! And the sequel will be even more silly by having a very Blackadder the Third take on another Austen title, but you’ll have to wait and see which one it is.

I already mentioned in an author’s note that each of the estates had IRL basis, but they also all had fictional ones. Harthaven is meant to evoke Mr Knightley’s Donwell Abbey with its stately farmcore vibes. Ivoring Hall should remind you of both Longbourn (especially with the Mins behaving rather Bennet-like) and Kellynch Hall (their money woes reflecting those of the Elliots). And of course, Davensley is a total rip-off of Mr Darcy’s Pemberley and is here to represent the epic breadth and majesty of all major English country estates.

Taehyung’s Grand Tour itinerary is based on Lord Byron’s from 1809-1811. I’m sure he desperately wanted to go to France and Italy but there’s a war going on out there, somewhere. And Seokjin isn’t here. (My Great Comet agenda will never rest)

Speaking of which, there should have been a Jin mention each update but I failed this when the Sope proposal scene became its own chapter and I forgot. Kind of bummed about it, not gonna lie.

I thought about having Yoongi read Sense and Sensibility at some point since it was published in October 1811. But then he went and established himself as an ardent enthusiast of gothic melodrama instead, how very Catherine Morland of him.

[major story spoiler] The backstory of why Merritt suddenly came back to England was that a great-aunt of his died and he had expected to be given her estate just to discover that this was not the case! Having sold his commission, he couldn’t return to a military career so he decided to wiggle his way back into Jimin’s life to gain his fortune/inheritance instead -- except he did not expect a) Minjeong’s wise decision to will Harthaven to Namjoon and b) Kim Taehyung. [end spoilers]

Not about the story/characters at all but I have a weird preoccupation with numbers so I’m particularly happy that I started this fic on 11/11 and managed to finish it on 5/5. 

A tidbit about the sequel: it will be from Namjoon’s POV and centred around him as he was mostly in the background throughout this story and deserves something good after his year of being sad. I’m looking forward to it because how he views himself is absolutely not the same way Jimin does!

THE WRITING PROCESS:

I almost always come up with a story’s ENTIRE plot before even writing it down. So after seeing @dayofkaryn​‘s tweet (like I’ve said so many times) in March, I was bit by a plot bunny and thought about it incessantly for about 2 months to figure out the main beats. This way, I can mentally test and veto things – at one point I had an entire other ending to the story that I never wrote down and ergo have totally forgotten what it was (something about Taegi teaming up against Merritt but I do not remember what their plan was at ALL). Of course, the final version of the story almost never resembles the chosen plot 100% faithfully, but having a roadmap is still really important for my personal security!

Next, I outline. Extensively. The version that I kept on tweaking and rewriting over the summer ended up at 11k words by the time I started. The point is that it’s a 0 draft and again, I’m figuring out the beats and identifying what needs to be done in regards to character development, structure, or just basic research.

I started drafting in late September and had the first 3 chapters ready by the first post in November (totally lost my head start by Christmas though, lol). When I draft, I cut/paste the section of outline that applies into a new Google doc and start forming them into sentences and paragraphs. Sometimes I end up rewriting the outline first, especially for later chapters after the story had developed into its own thing with a much clearer personality that deviated from the original plan! In draft mode, I also keep Wordhippo and Etymonline on nearby tabs to help me catch that word on the tip of my tongue and that my vocabulary choice is both period and suitably British. Luckily, thanks to where I grew up/currently live my spelling habits are already UK style!

Once drafted, I upload as a preview on AO3 and tweak for line edits/formatting there. Will admit that by the last 2-3 chapters this was not done and I would line edit after posting because my work schedule was hectic! But then the chapter is published, yay, and I go about my day trying not to think about it and reminding myself that the stats page is not an indicator of quality or worth. 

RESOURCES:

I’ll admit that I constantly googled shit while I drafted, ending up mostly on the blogs of Romance authors or Jane Austen fanpages. I do want to shout out this extremely cool collection of articles written by literally one person on very particular and niche topics from the era called the Regency Redingote. Even if it just came to one-liners about Jimin using a mote spoon or trimming quills, the wealth of information is just amazing and I could and have lost hours of time just reading about these random Regency things.

I also used videos for general education. Ellie Dashwood is a YouTuber who for a long time made Austen and 19th century her thing, so she was great for simple and straightforward explanations. (And she’s Yoongi biased!) There’s also this incredibly detailed re-enactment of a private ball by the Real Royalty history channel that they held in Edward Austen’s house! That one is just FUN to watch and learning more about the period via direct experience is a great way to do it in my opinion. And this one vlog about a pheasant shoot helped me significantly with Chapter 9 even if it’s very modern.

However, nothing beats immersing yourself in the OG stories! While writing this fic I revisited Emma, Northanger Abbey, and Sense and Sensibility from top to bottom, and picked up Venetia as a new Heyer read. I also checked out Jennifer Kloester’s Georgette Heyer’s Regency World from the library which had a lot of details about the setting and culture that was really useful. My library system has tons of Heyer actually, I should pick up another to celebrate finishing the AU!

WRITING SOUNDTRACKS:

I’m a creature of habit and usually will return to the same handful of mood music for a project. For A&A, these were on constant rotation:

For lighthearted scenes [like in chapters 4-7] / Jimin’s “theme”: the complete OST from Emma 2020. I genuinely love this movie for its cinematography and absurdity, and I love the soundtrack too! For Vmin scenes / Taehyung’s “theme”: Twoset Violin’s Mendelssohn 4mil Concert. I really, really like the Bach piano pieces at the start and end, and I find La Campanella to be very A&A!Taehyung coded: torrid and dramatic and also kind of ridiculous. I do pause writing whenever I hear the concerto starting to catch Brett’s panicked face when they prank him every single time, hahahaha

For Sope scenes / Yoongi’s “theme”: this collection of John Field’s nocturnes. My favourite is No. 10, the “Romance”. Soft and gentle, like our sweet Suga!! Other composers I would also put on from time to time were Beethoven, Pleyel (who Jane Austen was known to enjoy a lot), more John Field (concertos instead of nocturnes) and of course, BTS. C:

If you actually read to the end of this very self-indulgent and longwinded post, thank you for your patience! I hope you liked the story too, and are curious enough to see what the heck I’m going to do with pirates in the sequel. Because now I’m going to have to figure that out too. As always, I remain starcasticallyyours!

[arklay]

RESIDENT EVIL → DIANA & ALBERT WESKER

"You live inside me, the same way I live inside you. A moebius strip, a snake always swallowing its own tail. Mutually assured destruction, maybe, or mutual deification. Mutual consumption. I will be the house that holds every part of you." — Becca De La Rosa and Mabel Martin, Mabel: Matryoshka [Episode 28]

[template]

[rahleeyah]

Thanks for answering even months later 😊 OH and don't get me started on the christmas ep! I too am still angry about it!!! I really really wanted that to have been processed somehow and I was hoping it would at least come up in therapy: you know, your life hasn't been easy during this last year, it's okay to be sad... NOPE it's Elliot's/your lack of a romantic relationship's fault, like what???

the fucking christmas episode tho. liv and noah are at church??? (this is related to something that's been on my mind lately, how much of liv's character has been eroded in recent seasons, how they have blunted her rough edges and made her "soft" in so many ways that feel like "she's of a certain age and she's a mother she can't be a bulldog anymore she has to be sweet" and that is. a) not a good look and b) not true to who olivia IS) which doesn't make any sense bc apart from having baby noah blessed in a church (also. sidebar. amanda's from georgia. what are the chances she went to a church where babies get baptized i'm sorry i do not believe she was raised catholic) we have had zero reason to suspect that liv has been going to church all this time although. i can't remember now. has liv come out and said in recent seasons that she believes in god now? or is that just a fanon thing i'm thinking of? ooooh there's something about liv turning to the church after elliot is gone as a way to still feel close to him but that is neither here nor there lemme rein this in-

so we have the squad being ripped away from their families on christmas to work a hate crimes case (bc WL is still salty his hate crimes show didn't get made, which, thank god it didn't, they do not possess the nuance to produce that show with grace), we have the retconning of murphy and rollins' relationship/baby stuff, we have amanda's parents looking after the girls and noah which is INSANE bc her mother is an awful bitch who treated amanda like shit and her dad is an abusive alcoholic why were those children not with the carisis. we have the initial red herring, which was super racist and never revisited and wasted a bunch of time, NOT TO MENTION that for a white supremacy storyline a lot of the actors were not actually white?? and rollins flashing a white power sign on tv which imo was unnecessary and yes she was only doing it to entrap that guy but given their whole "we needed a character to represent the Good Kind Of Republican, bc that's definitely an underrepresented group, and we might as well use the southern girl bc they're all like that, right?" thing was in extremely bad taste. and then liv shoots some dude in front of a crowd of witnesses on christmas day and no one goes to comfort her. no one goes to speak to her. murphy says merry christmas, not dryly, not ironically, no liv says thank you like she thought he was being sincere and then he vanishes again. fade to black. never mentioned again, not even once.

no one steps up for olivia. we do not get to see olivia and rollins with their kids. we never hear about it again, like it never even happened.

bc to WL et al, it didn't bear revisiting. all they cared about was the "she saved the city" narrative; there was zero care for olivia as a person. which has kinda become par for the course over the last two seasons; svu does not care about her personhood. they care about her as a prop. they had her stand still while men emoted around her, doing nothing but covering her heart in a sweet gesture of compassion. they waited until the finale to allow her to express any of what she's been feeling, and like you said pinned it all on elliot, WITHOUT EVEN ACTUALLY LETTING OLIVIA TELL US HOW SHE FEELS ABOUT HIM. they had lindstrom and barba - they had two men - tell us what olivia is feeling.

jesus christ. i am so glad they're bringing in fresh blood. it is desperately needed.

[anonil88]

Just some thoughts on Rue and Rules but mainly Rue.

Rue is possibly gonna loose Jules, Fezco, and Elliot and imma cry about all of it even tho I don't know this new kid. I just sense from everything that this kid is going to end up really really alone before any of it gets better. She's gonna be so down and in such a bad place but it might lead her to recovery in more ways. She might actually end up surviving by the end of a season 3 should we get one. I wish it didn't take that but I know it sometimes does and man I just want her to at least actually survive and learn how to live like really live. I hope by the end of this season they at least leave us with Rue having some kind of hope. Some kind of something she clings onto even if she doesn't believe in herself or her reasons....they just can't leave that girl in the tumbleweeds with nothing to hold onto and pull herself back. That would be so so bleak and so so sad to just rip it all away and have her with nothing left.

Rules thoughts: Maybe one day we will get a show with a black queer lead non man who gets and receives queer love without having to fight through hell to get it and for it to stay longer than 4 secs or one episode of interaction. Realistically speaking I've seen queer black ppl who have gone through literal hell and still had or have had many moments of reciprocated platonic and non platonic love. This isn't gonna be that show though and I think any "Rules" fans should manage their expectations. Jules' has a part in this story but it is not as big this season i feel like its more compared to how Cassie/Mckay influenced everyone else's stories but were definitely less important. This season is definitely bringing Cassie to the front of the discussion. I'm curious where they are going with Kat's story though. I don't want her to get lost in the background too much, maybe that is because of my own personal attachments to that character.

Back to the point though, they are together but its about where do they go from here when really they honestly can't go up unless things change for both of them in both of their lives and thats going to take time. Even if Rue and Jules don't break up and have great moments the heart of Rue's story is her struggles and love only holds you but so much when its really really bad. Jules will only be a few happy moments but Rue still really has to go through shit while also figuring out shit. That's hard on any relationship even platonic ones or pretty healthy ones, like that other person needs their space to process whatever it is going on for them. So we will see but i doubt it. Honestly I've begun to doubt I will ever see happy black non-men gays in happy gay relationships in any tv show I watch lmao. But I'm happy they got a kiss even if that is the only genuinely happy moment they get without distractions of their own or just lifes makings.

(i think they will eventually be closer after everything is said and done and Rue is in recovery. Maybe not even dating just friends but its going to take a while for it to get there and them both to learn some faking communication skills. Because Jules is guilty of not communicating as well.)

As for all the other characters I could honestly do one of these for all of them but I'm not sure. Hmm but I do have a lot of thoughts.

[dogbearinggifts]

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.

[silverpaintedstars]

The Son of Shadows, Chapter Twelve (where i literally forgot to post this until i went to write tonight, shhh)

@accidental-spice @kanerallels @bookdragon1811 @fairytale-lights

Chapter Twelve: Under the Same Stars

That night they made a makeshift camp when darkness fell. Rapier crafted a fire and they all sat around it, soaking in the warmth. It was early autumn and the nights were falling colder around them, more each day. 

Elliot shivered, his hand stroking Niskim, who had settled in his lap. There wasn’t—surprisingly—an argument or conversation going on, just the three sitting silently, save the crackling and snapping of the fire. 

Elliot hadn’t been sure if it would be, um, safe letting Silva see that he was an Elf, despite Rapier having revealed to them both. He hadn’t had a chance to ask Rapier yet, but wasn’t about to take down his hood himself. 

Rapier was quiet, staring into the flames and bending a small twig in his hands, snapping it and throwing the bits into the fire. Silva sat slightly away, more towards the shadows, ripping up grass around her and playing with it. She had been strangely distant since the Wycat attack that morning,  not being as–defensive and loud as usual. Elliot wondered whether it had to do something with her hat being wrecked, but wasn’t sure what that would have to do with it.

Rapier sighed finally, throwing the rest of the stick—small and beaten down by this point—into the fire. “We’ll reach Feriene sometime tomorrow,” he said, as if they didn’t know that. Elliot still appreciated the reminder. 

In his lap, Niskim yawned, stretching himself, settling his paws on Elliot’s arm. Rapier looked at the Wycat and smiled. “He really does have a liking to you.”

Elliot nodded, running a finger over Niskim’s soft wings. The Wycat yawned in his sleep. 

Rapier glanced at Silva, who had about cleared the grass around her. She still hadn’t said anything, which Elliot was finding really odd—at least for her. In the time that she had been with them, Silva was usually either going on about something or arguing with them. Sure, she was quiet, but not for long. At least, up until now. 

“Your voice finally gone?” Rapier asked her after a moment. He sounded a bit hopeful but Elliot wasn’t sure whether it was real hopefulness. 

She scowled at him. “No.”

“Well, you’re being awfully quiet,” he pointed out. 

“So now I have the standard to live to of constantly talking?” Silva said with an air of defense.

“No, thought it seems like it’s something you do. A lot,” Rapier said. 

“Yes, it’s called conversations,” Silva huffed. 

“And you also talk when no one is interested in holding a conversation,” Rapier added. 

SIlva glared at the back of his head. 

There was another moment of quiet, the crackling of the dying fire filling in the silence. Elliot yawned, against his will, Rapier glancing across at him. “We should sleep now,” he said, in response to Elliot. 

“How long will it be tomorrow to get to Ferienetown?” Elliot asked.

“Noontime, probably,” Rapier answered, “if we make well enough time. The sky was clearing out so we shouldn’t have to worry too much about rain.”

Which was a relief. Elliot had had about enough of walking through rain at this point. And Feriene was going to be wet enough on it’s own, what with being built on a lake and the such. 

Elliot was going to ask just what was awaiting for them at Ferienetown, but knowing Rapier, they weren’t going to get anything else out of him than he’d already said. Which turned this all into some form of a twisted guessing game that led them constantly second-thinking every step they took. 

Maybe just once on this entire excursion Rapier would actually answer all their questions in whole. Or maybe that was more of a far-fetched dream, nothing real enough to happen. 

Well, maybe they could get lucky one time. 

Elliot yawned again, flushing red when Silva stared at him, but he couldn’t quite help it, honestly. The day had been tiring, traveling the whole time with not many rests. So who was Silva to blame him for that?  

“We can—and should—sleep now,” Rapier said a moment later, waving his hand in the air. The fire flickered down to just a small flame and Elliot flinched. Right—Rapier could do that, but it still was surprising. And if he was going to be honest, a bit unnatural. But even his own people could do things. And what with this new sort of power Elliot had found himself capable of, did that make him the more unnatural? Everyone was different in their own way, he supposed, and it was up to the others to judge just how ‘unnatural’ it was. 

“Alright,” Silva muttered. “I’m tired and would very much like to get rest now.” 

She wasn’t the only one. And as they all settled down and tried to get warm around the remnants of the fire, Elliot’s mind went back to the question of what made people unnatural to others. 

Would it just be by the fact that some had the abilities to do things that some people couldn’t? The reason that they could just be able to manipulate certain elements and proprieties and not have to damage a law of the world in the process? For the most part though, Elliot figured, most Falsus were just misunderstood. And in Lucero—where Elves ruled—-Falsus were given a bad name. 

Elves were supposed to be feared and honored, what with the country being ruled by them. But in places other than Orlem and perhaps Rocstrett, which was by the coast and groups of powerful Elves lived there, Elves—-among all other Falsus—were treated as the lowest of the low. They were seen almost worse than Witches, Grelphs or even Haunts, though not many Haunts lived in Lucero. Elves had the power to invade on your mind and twist it—something that proved them untrustable. 

Elliot shivered, turning over on his side to face the fire. Niskim had curled up somewhere near Elliot’s head, his small, rhythmic breathing calming. 

So Elves were already feared, and now, with what Elliot found he could do? Was this something that all Elves could do? Or was this just something else to separate him from the others, another jagged reminder that he was not like the others. 

Somewhere a few miles off and under the same sky, a group of four sat by a dying fire. They were tired from a day of chasing off after the Grelph’s newest arrangement. First, though, they had to guess which direction the Elf boy had gone. The Grelph had expected they would be leaving the next morning, and the others in her group had known better than to not trust her mind. So far she had been right.

The girl stretched, her long blonde braid swinging over her shoulder. “I’m going to sleep now,” she announced to no one in particular. 

“By all means, Thillis, go on ahead and spare us having to listen to you any longer,” the Elf boy grouched. He had had a run in with a particularly feral seeming Wycat and had a bite on his arm. 

Askance glanced over to her left, where the last member of her sorry group sat just outside the light of the fire. Taking to the shadows. She didn’t blame him, really. His long, dark hair fell over his eyes as he sat against a tree, staring into the fire. He and the girl were the only ones amongst them who weren’t Falsus, and Askance wondered if that made them feel uneasy. 

Almost as if he could hear her thinking, Maverick snapped his gaze towards Askance. His green eyes reflected the firelight. “What?” He asked her, almost a bit defensively. 

“You have been quiet,” Askance said, her long, sharp nails tapping on her knee. He was in the presence of an assassin and a thief, so she supposed he probably had a reason. She still wasn’t sure why Loot had chosen him for this group—he did seem to have some sort of skill with a weapon, but surely that couldn’t  be the only reason. The Elf boy, Brenan, was there because he was the brother of the target. Thillis, because she had skill as a thief. But Maverick? This dark, quiet boy who couldn’t be over seventeen? Why was he here? Why did the king of this scarforsaken kingdom choose him?

Askance could ask him, but she doubted the boy would even answer. 

Maverick’s eyes roved over the group a moment, flicking over every detail, then returning sharply back to Askance. “You know, it’s a bit unnerving to be stared at by an assassin?”

Askance let out an unamused breath. “I can only imagine.”

Maverick returned her expression. “Why don’t we just move through the night and catch up to them then?”

Askance had pondered (HER ORB) that choice. “We give them time to begin to feel relaxed, time to feel like they outsmarted us. And let them think we were miles behind them.”

“We are miles behind them.”

“Unimportant,” Askance muttered. Now she just thought Loot had given her these people purely for the fact that they may make her lose her mind. It wouldn’t be too far of a possibility. 

“Unimportant until you realize that it’s hard to catch up to them if we’re too far behind them,” Maverick muttered under his breath. 

Askance turned her head to glare at him. “You doubt me?”

Maverick let out a breath through his nose. “I’m not here because I wanted to be.”

“Oh, do not think I didn’t figure that out.”  Askance let out a cough. 

“Mm, and I don’t figure you picked this whole…” Maverick waved a hand around their sorry group. “Dream team or whatever.” 

“I usually work alone,” Askance growled. 

“So you’re telling me that you are so unreliable you needed not one but three babysitters?” Maverick asked.

“Are you not aware I could kill you and not care?” Askance asked. 

“I don’t think anyone could not be,” Maverick said carefully. “Aware, that is. With that slightly menacing stick and all.” 

Askance glared at him another second before diverting her gaze to the dying flame. She didn’t need to spend her time bantering with this boy. There were plans to make. 

[frederickthegreat]

my thoughts on TUA season 2

(spoilers, obviously)

- opened with Klaus and Ben, my kings. Klaus’s hair looks so weird straightened while short 

- AWESOME opening soundtrack 

- seeing all their powers so controlled makes me wonder how they leveled up to that skill in the alternate timeline. like the only time we saw Klaus use the powers of other ghosts in the correct timeline was when two of them caught him falling out of the sky. however Diego did end up controlling bullets and Allison used her voice to technically kill one of the Swedes

- the homeless man screaming Allison’s name alongside Luther... funny shit

- big teddy bear Hazel

- Elliot was fucking awesome i think he was a great addition as a side character. rip tho :(

- honestly i don’t understand why Diego would WANT to save JFK. like it’s not that big of a deal. does he not understand what messing with the timeline can do??

- Lila... impeccable

- Sissy and Vanya... impeccable <3

- yeah and fuck u Carl

- ugh, Klaus’s beard. disgusting <3

- Ben and Klaus definitely act like they should be, given that they’ve been stuck with each other for over a decade. i’ve seen some people calling Klaus an asshole for not telling his siblings about Ben, which is completely understandable (cause he was an asshole), but I’m guessing it was because he was afraid? that sharing Ben with his siblings would mean that he would lose him to them, or his siblings would find him selfish, or they would ask something of him that he couldn’t give. if that makes sense

- that ghost bitch comment was funny tho 

- to the guy who called Klaus pretty boy at the bar: sir you don’t know what you’re getting into

- Raymond!! he’s such a sweetheart, i really liked him in the show. i’m really happy that Allison has found a bit of normalcy (as normal as the 1960s Civil Rights movement could be). it shows how passionate she is about what she believes in: even though she knows the movement is far from over, even back in 2019, she’s not gonna abandon it

- Allison staring at the moon every night: either thinking about Luther or how the moon blows them all up. maybe both

- of course Luther would be working for Jack Ruby

- awesome cinematography during the mental asylum escape 

- yeah it makes sense that the Handler would still be alive. she was a cool villain. although it would’ve been awesome to see how evil a fish could be

- Diego’s plan was pretty stupid. that’s my boy

- honestly they revealed how Klaus started a cult really well by having one of his followers find him at jail. Klaus, ever the musical aficionado, of course writes his scripture based off of pop songs

- Raymond and Klaus meeting!! that was cool to see how their paths connected

- Lila painting Elliot’s toenails green. ugh i love that crazy bitch

- i LOVE how they incorporated the umbrella man!! tbh i’ve always believed he was the one behind the assassination. Lee Harvey Oswald was framed 

- honestly a bit understandable that Luther was planning on killing Vanya? cause he had no idea who she is now, but them reuniting was actually really sweet. he’s grown up so much

- the Swedes and their cats.

- the Umbrella company building with the nuclear family mannequins... creepy, awesome shit

- baby pogo baby pogo baby pogo baby pogo

- shanked diego shanked diego shanked diego shanked diego

- did anyone else get vibes from Klaus’s episode opening that he was an escort to the old woman? like how he was being shown off at her arm or something and getting out of jail from a call from the governor. idk maybe the lady was just very taken with him, as anyone would be

- Elliot, our helpful king

- Allison and Klaus’s reunion was so sweet!! i’m so glad they got to interact so much more in this season 

- Ben getting Raymond out through a haunting... hilarious

- sweet intimate moment between Lila and Diego

- Ray meeting Luther was hilarious, but i do feel for the poor guy. i mean i’m not in love with my adoptive sister but still

- the sit-in was really well done and beautiful while terrible. the ‘riot’ that ensued was very appropriate for today’s setting 

- D-Dave

- honestly i was scared that Klaus was gonna be overly attracted to him or whatever, which would be weird cause he’s years younger than Klaus, but honestly, at the core he just wanted to save Dave’s life. even if it means never meeting him in a different timeline. he truly loved Dave. and that ptsd flashback was done so well

- i knew Lila wasn’t trustworthy but i didn’t REALLY expect that! 

- Vanya and Luther talking with each other, Luther admitting the apocalypse wasn’t all her fault. beautiful

- the Majestic 12 reminds me of the conspiracy theory that only a few families control basically everything in the world. the Majestic 12 may be based off of that, idk

- idk about everyone else but Klaus’s scorpion and the frog story made total sense to me! frogs ARE bitches

- the diner scene.... ugh. it really shows that the two of them did fall in love and they did stupid in love things, like talking about their family, about why Dave wanted to join, favorite colors, favorite foods, etc. however that’s seen later on when Dave visits the compound

- yes it’s very disheartening when Klaus is attacked, but honestly i think it had to happen, just like the riot had to happen. the 60s weren’t a fun time for lgbt people and poc. it was only going to be a matter of time before the show HAD to acknowledge the consequences of Klaus’s ‘flamboyancy’ in 1963 Texas. it doesn’t make it right or easy to see, but it’s realistic. 

- it also makes sense that Klaus fell off the wagon after experiencing something like that. yes we all would’ve liked him to stay sober, but sobriety and recovery aren’t linear. 

- Allison is so happy with Ray can we please drop this pseudo-incest plotline let’s MOVE ON 

- Texas Grace ! who is not actually Grace rip (i think? i was a bit confused lol)

- the scene with Harlan running off was really upsetting but we got to see those weird light particles that we saw in the first season

- Pogo Pogo Pogo Pogo

- Klaus being a dick to Ben again, as brothers do. i do feel bad for Ben though it must be sooo frustrating. that scene with him and Allison was really sweet and funny tho

- i just have to say that Luther and Diego are so fucking funny this season it’s awesome. like there are a LOT of good lines overall by everyone but they’re hilarious. “At least he didn’t shank my ass” “no bro, he shanked your heart”“Dads part of a sinister CABAL that’s plotting on killing the president.” “a caBAL?”“You two still a thing? *leans in* do we need to talk?” “No, she’s married.” “Woah dude... that’s rough.” and countless others

- the sibling reunion!! 

- Klaus really does get left out of everything tbh

- Ben :(

- sisters and Klaus!! that was so awesome to see. and Klaus’s hairpins, Vanya saying she’s gonna tell Sissy she loves her, their dance sequence, Klaus calling Allison out on that incest. beautiful

- the fucking Swedish cover of Hello was PERFECT i mean i was sad for the Swedes but it was hilarious. there were a couple beautiful shots of the boat on fire though

- god it must’ve been so traumatizing for Allison to be thrust into such a hostile place with no voice and no way to contact her family

-  idk about you guys but long live Team Zero

- calling Ben that he was becoming their father was a bit uncalled for 

- the fact that Klaus didn’t help Dave’s chances, and in fact escalated Dave’s own timeline.. his trembling hands... robert sheehan is an amazing actor

- the Black president bit lmaoo loved it

- the way Reginald spoke to Diego.. i’m gonna throw hands with an old man

- Klaus LITERALLY looked like he was having a seizure and they all just... played it off?? 

- poor, poor Carl. nah fuck him lol

- that bloody opening scene was awesome! and thank god Five got to say fuck. the fact that it was about a candy bar makes too much sense

- Robert Sheehan acting as Ben: amazing showstopping spectacular he’s so talented

- the whole multiple Fives and Luther bit was honestly really funny, and i immensely respect smaller Five over bigger Five. 

- yes Klaus, you survived a family of seven. you got this

- not sad about Carl dying one bit!

- Ben... that was such a beautiful scene. not just the content of the scene, but the cinematography. Ben fading away... Vanya hugging him... ugh. the main takeaway i had from that scene is that at the core of it all, Ben and Klaus love each other immensely. they have a weird, dysfunctional, fucked up relationship, where Klaus is an asshole and Ben definitely shouldn’t of possessed him without his consent, but they’re still brothers, and Ben forgives him. 

- oof Ben’s funeral was hard. also was it just me or did Klaus’s kid actor sound weird? like it sounded like Robert was dubbing his lines 

- all the siblings back together again!!!! Klaus going with Vanya to save Harlan!! Vanya telling him Ben forgives him and that it wasn’t Klaus’s fault Ben got stuck with him!! everyone in the car!!! be still my beating heart

- yeah didn’t see Lila having powers coming tbh. i really feel bad for her she’s had such a rough and traumatic life, especially with the Handler as her only parental figure

- the Swede brother and Five putting down their weapons: “enough.” the Swede wanted revenge for his brothers - an eye for an eye, but there was a mutual understanding between the two of them: they would do anything for their family. if the Swede hurts one of the Hargreeves, Five would never stop coming after him. i thought it was very beautiful 

- mmm Reggie’s foreshadowing coming into play. proud of u Five

- the ending was so beautiful. everyone got closure in some type of way. except now Klaus is alone with nothing but his dog tags :(

- EMO BEN HAHAHA WTFFF?? is Lila in the sparrow academy? why was Ben’s portrait over the mantle piece? did Five disappear?? is the sparrow academy just older versions of the siblings who stuck around?? so many questions

FINAL THOUGHTS

- Ellen Page’s acting consistently blows me away. she is amazing 

- beautiful cinematography, funny writing, pretty good acting. i didn’t like the soundtrack as much as i did the first season’s, but some of it wasn’t bad.

- i’m glad ben got peace, but i’m also glad justin min isn’t gone for good. his social media presence is too vital for us

- i swear to god if they keep treating klaus as a joke and don’t let him get any actual development like everyone else had (he barely got closure with Dave, he reconciled with Ben through a second party) next season, i’m gonna riot. PLEASE i want to learn more about his powers now that Ben is gone. what happened to seeing tons of ghosts when he’s sober??

- Luther and Diego were probably my favorite duo of the season, I’m so happy that they’ve reconciled and are bonding more. 

- just seeing Vanya grow and be happy was amazing 

all in all, really wonderful season. i probably liked it better than the first one. now it’s time to consume fanfiction and maybe finish my own (check out “god doesn’t want him and neither does the devil” on ao3!)

[lostinaseaoffictionalbliss]

Rugged Path To Love-Unexpected Visit

Summary: When Danielle returns state side, things she never expected to happen to her did. It leaves her broken and she doesn't know how to pick up the pieces. Can Elliot Stabler be the one to teach the former Army grunt to trust again?

Elliot Stabler is a lot of things, good detective, temperamental, smart, courageous, and kind. But when the person he's tasked to watch over is his Captain's niece can he keep things professional?

This is an AU. Kathy and the kids don't exist in this story

Warnings: abuse, mentions of sexual abuse, PTSD attacks (will add more as needed)

Danielle gazed at the door in front of her for what felt like hours. Going inside would mean admitting what happened. She would have to tell someone her biggest, darkest secret. The mere thought of giving all the minute details of that moment to someone else frightened her. 

"You're stronger than this. Fucking pull it together and go in," she mumbled to herself. 

A gentle voice came from behind her, "Are you okay sweetie?"

Danielle jumped at the voice and turned to the person. She noticed the badge on the woman's hip, but it didn't put her at ease. She had learned that not everyone with power and the duty to protect was willing to do so. 

While the woman's stance seemed unthreatening, her chocolate eyes holding kindness, Danielle was extremely leery. She gripped her camouflage duffle bag just a little tighter, nodding. She wasn't going to tell this woman anything. 

"Well do you need help finding something? I'm detective Olivia. I can help you." Olivia smiled. She could tell something was bothering the woman in front of her and given where they were standing she had a good idea what. However, she wouldn't push someone that was possibly a victim. It could make them shut down which wasn't helpful for the person suffering or the detective on the case.

Danielle looked back at the building and smiled a very faint smile. "Actually yeah. I'm here to see my uncle. Captain Donald Cragen. It's been awhile and I haven't been here before so I'm a bit lost." It was a good excuse. She truly hadn't ever been to the prescient. She had always visited him at home or met at a restaurant. Besides there was no need to give away anything to a stranger. 

Olivia smiled and opened the door for them. She didn't know her boss had a niece, but she could see the similarities. "I can take you straight to him. He's actually my boss." She held the door to allow Danielle in before following her inside. 

The dim lit hallway that led to the elevators put Danille on edge. Instantly she began looking around. She picked out two possible exits and saw something she could use as a weapon if she needed it. One of the bulbs flickered and she saw a flash of metal. She shut her eyes tight and took a calming breath. Not now. You can't break down now. 

"So what brings you to visit?" Olivia could easily pick up the tells of someone suffering PTSD. She was hoping to distract the girl to prevent an episode. "Noticed your bag has your name and rank." She had seen the patch on her bag when they were outside. 

Danielle hummed and looked down. "Oh yeah. I'm a nurse. Been stateside for two weeks. Was on base until I was relieved of duty yesterday morning. Figured I'd come see my Uncle and find out if I could stay with him until I got a place sorted."

"Why were you relieved?"

"Finished my four year tour. Didn't reenlist. Decided to start working here at the hospital. Have an interview tomorrow." She stepped out of the elevator.

Olivia nodded. "Well Captain's office is right there." She pointed toward the door.

"Thanks," Danielle called over her shoulder as she walked into the office. 

Donald Cragen looked up when his office door opened. His eyes widened and he stood instantly. He couldn't believe what he was seeing; Though it made the old man happy. For someone of his age he still moved quickly. In a second he was across the room, grabbing his niece up in a tight hug. 

Danielle flinched slightly at the tight hug. It was an instant reaction; one she hadn't been able to control. She hoped it hadn't been noticed, but she knew her Uncle would easily pick up on it. He had been a detective for too many years. She hugged him back with one arm after taking a moment to relax her body. He isn't a threat to you, you know that. 

"Dani?" He whispered, having noticed the way she tensed at his touch.

Danielle teared up and looked down. Now that she was actually in front of him, she wasn't sure she could do this. Tell the man who had practically raised her what happened. 

Don closed his door and the blinds before helping his niece to sit down. "Talk to me sweetie."

Elliot leaned back in his chair, staring at the Captain's door. He had spotted Danielle when she came in with Olivia and was curious. He put his hands behind his head, glancing at his partner. "Any idea what that's all about?"

Olivia shrugged a little, looking to the office. "Said she was his niece. I mean I can see it. Her last name is Cragen. Got that from her duffle."

"Yeah okay so friendly visit or something else?"

"I think there's more to it. The way she was staring at the building. How she gripped her bag til her knuckles were white, the way she flinched from my touch, almost jumped out of her skin from a light flickering. She's been through something." She frowned. 

He raised a brow. "Liv. Are you telling me that you think the Captain's niece is a victim?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "I am. You didn't look into her eyes. I did. Something is going on and I'm telling you that it's nothing good."

He leaned forward, elbows resting on the desk, and pointed at her. "Tell me everything she said to you." He had been doing this job long enough to know that even the slightest detail could give them the clue they needed.

Olivia started from the moment she saw Danielle standing outside the building and finished with them entering the squad room. "So what do you think?"

Elliot furrowed his brows, eyes squinting slightly. "Well to be honest, Liv-"

Elliot's observation is cut off by the captain's door being ripped open. Standing in the open doorway, Donald Cragen blocks the view into his office as he scans the squad room. The Captain is not a fierce man but the look on his face has everyone stopping their tasks and staring. As his eyes land on Elliot, he nods slightly and then commands the detective, "Stabler. My office, now!" 

*****

Tags for this story are open. Please reblog if you like my stories. Likes are great, but they don't spread my work.

[consumedkings-archive]

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter eleven: after you've gone

word count: ~12.6k

rating: m

warnings: canon-typical religious blasphemy, though it's in full-force here with joseph so i wanted it to be noted in the warnings. there are mentions of self-harm, both past and implied presently, and they're not treated very lightly. elliot is having a hard time.

notes: there's a lot of moving parts in this so i apologize in advance if it feels a bit slow, but everything felt really important to include and i wanted to make sure nothing got left out. thank you so much to my beta @starcrier who literally proofed this beast with all of the love in the world.

i won't ramble on too much, but i did want to say that the reception for the last two chapters really made my whole heart just explode and i wanted to thank you all! what an incredible experience it is getting to write these two gigantic idiots. <3

“I saw her. Our mor.”

Helmi cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear, scribbling absently on the side of the file she’d continued nosing through once she’d gotten back to the bunker. Like this, she felt far from Kajsa—farther than she had in the longest time. Maybe since they had welcomed her into the Family.

“Did you?” She stretched back against the truck’s seat, feet kicked up on the dash as she scanned the page, going over her own notes. Starvation, classical condition. On animals and people? In the back seat of the truck, Peaches rumbled her discontent at lack of attention; Helmi reached back and scratched her ears until the rumble turned into what she recognized as a more contented purr.

“Yes. She is doing well. Her color is just as Ase said, you know. Perfectly balanced. Poor John—I can see his suffering.”

Helmi hmm’d, the thoughtfulness matching the patient rumble Peaches had rewarded her affection with.

“Is Deputy Pratt behaving?”

“I should hope so. He has no reason to have any loyalty to the Seeds, outside of fear.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Helmi was sure, in the very marrow of her bones, that Kajsa was smiling.

“And what did you give him, Helmi? To make him loyal?”

She considered. “A more impressive fear.” And then: “Also, I said I wouldn’t kill him.”

“That is just a more impressive fear bundled up pretty, my heart.”

“Mm,” Helmi replied in agreement. Whatever the case, she thought that Pratt had more to gain from fucking the Seeds over than he did by fucking them over—and that’s why Kajsa entrusted this sort of thing to her and didn’t do it herself, after all. If it had been Kajsa here, eyeing Pratt like a piece of lunchmeat, she’d have him drugged to the gills and barely aware of what was going on. Not being of use.

It’s why we make a perfect pair, something inside of her said, joy shared, joy doubled.

“Don’t rest on your laurels.”

Sorrow shared, sorrow halved.

Helmi sighed. “I’m not.”

“Keep putting pressure. I want them squirming, hjärtat.”

“I will.” She paused, sitting up in the truck and glancing out at the remaining members of the Family. Those that hadn’t given themselves a swift, clean death. After Kian’s face was crushed in, Kajsa had gathered them all and said, It’s going to be harder, from here. If you feel you cannot do it, if you think that you do not have the strength to answer our calling, then it is your time. We love you.

It had been the time for many. Morale had been—and still was—low. Ase’s death first, gut-wrenching and tragic, and then Kian’s; worse than the last. Worse, because while he had been grieving, while he had been suffering, he had still been their second-in-command. Meant to be infallible, even more so than Ase. He had been meant to carry them into their next life, after It was appeased. Contented. After It had turned the world to winter.

Now, more than ever, with only a handful of them left to huddle around their fires and sleep in the backs of cars, and kiss and laugh and hug each other in the inky black night, they felt like a ship adrift at sea.

Kajsa’s voice hummed in her ear, plastic and metal vibrating where it lay trapped between her head and shoulder. Helmi’s gaze swept away from the remaining Family members and turned her gaze back to the file. The Seeds were deeply rooted in this place—the tendrils of a tree that might be dead at the trunk but stayed for many decades after, if it wasn’t ripped out at the base.

“Did you hear me, Helmi?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I was distracted.”

“I am coming back,” Kajsa reiterated patiently.

“The others will be happy.”

“And what about you? Will you be happy?”

Helmi paused. She closed the file, dropped it back onto the dashboard and cranked the seat back so that she could stretch a little, her eyes tracing the tinny, ancient ceiling of the truck she’d lifted from Eden’s Gate. She exhaled, once, and then held her breath; closed her eyes, felt the ache of it between her ribs.

“I sense before me a lost lamb.”

“Not lost,” Helmi replied, her lungs tight. “Just—thinking.”

“Must I divine the dark cloud over your soul myself?”

She allowed her body to take air back in. “I wonder,” she murmured, “if it will be enough to appease the Father.”

“Do you wonder,” Kajsa hummed, “or do you worry?”

A moment of silence stretched. And then, the rich, melodic timbre of the Hierophant’s voice came through again, idle and pulled snug against her ear, like Kajsa was really right there again to say the words against her skin: “What will you do, if Staci Pratt defects despite your Machiavellian threats of harm so great he should never consider to incur it?”

“I don’t know,” Helmi replied uneasily. “It would depend on if he brought mor and the interloper, or if he just—”

“The answer, hjärtat, is that you do not know, because it has not been revealed to you yet.” Despite the interruption, Kajsa’s voice was pleasant and serene. Ever since Ase’s death, she’d been more tempered—like she was playing a role, filling a void. Helmi almost missed her cruelty. Like it was a creature comfort. “There is no use in wondering, because we will never know before it is our time to. We want for much. Whether or not we are given it remains to be seen. Our Father is a most...”

Her voice trailed off. Helmi tried to think of what words Kajsa might use; stringent, perhaps, ambitious, or even enigmatic—

“Wretched god,” Kajsa finished, a grin in her voice. “It does so love to watch us toil, does It not?”

“Yes,” she answered after a moment, because wretched resonated somewhere in her soul, somewhere in the marrow of her bones, reminding her why this had felt like home ever in the first place. Wretched, to watch them suffer, to give them so little information and let them suffer wreck after wreck.

In front of her, the dark of the forest swelled, breathed, reminded her: failure was not an option. Theirs was not a benevolent, forgiving God, the kind who would forgive sin if one only asked—the Father was wrathful, was vengeful, and would make them suffer their insolence and their ineptitude.

“I should get going. I imagine our mor will not be far behind, thanks to your ingenuity, and I want to be in Hope County to welcome her.”

“I am,” Helmi blurted out after a second of hesitation, “happy, that you’re coming back.”

There was a pause on the other end; and then, a soft breath, where Helmi thought maybe Kajsa was smiling again.

“Ingenting under solen är beständigt, my heart.”

The call clicked. Only empty air and static, then, buzzing faintly in the ear, the words dead in her mouth before she’d had the chance to say them back.

Nothing under the sun is lasting.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot was going to be sick. Nevermind the morning-after-dread of realizing she had caved in on her most basest animal desires—What, the man who’s perhaps lied to you the most tells you he’s never thought you’re crazy, and you let him fuck you? Come on, Elliot,—but listening to Pratt ramble nervously into the phone about how he didn’t realize everyone was gone, nobody stopped to look for him, nobody tried to call, he thought she had left too and she had, where was she? Was she okay?

“I’m fine,” she managed out. Guilt ripped through her sternum, burning hot and shameful. I’m fine, Pratt, don’t worry about me. Got well and truly railed last night, it’s fine. Oh, also, I’m going to have a baby. And I’m married. Don’t worry, you found out about the same time as me, just off a few weeks. “I’m at my mom’s.”

“In Georgia?”

“Yeah.” Elliot swallowed thickly. “Are you okay? You sound like shit.”

Pratt laughed uneasily on the other end of the line. “I’m with, uh—I’m with them.” He paused. “The Seeds. And their—the lawyer lady.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you’re okay,” she reiterated, more firmly.

He laughed again. “I’m on the phone with you, aren’t I?”

Frustrating. They might all be looming around him, waiting to hear what she was going to say. It was a trap, of course. Jacob or Joseph had done enough digging around in her past to find out they’d gone to school together, had gone to school dances, had basically dated—and they knew she’d evacuated the entirety of the Resistance otherwise. They were clearly laying a trap to get her to come back. But for what?

“Hey, um—” Staci cleared his throat. “Ell, there’s—a lot of bad stuff going on. There’s these people, and they’re—they’re just killing people, left and right, gutting them and sticking them up and—Jesus, they fucking split Miss Mabel open like a fish, and I’m—”

Oh, there it was; the sickness, the violent urge to throw up. The Family was supposed to be dead. They had been killing themselves off in pairs after Kian’s death, weren’t they? Elliot blinked rapidly, trying to calm the furious beating of her heart, the way it slammed against her rib cage and demanded penance.

Calloused fingers swept her hair to the side and squeezed at the juncture between her neck and shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to accept it for what it was—John, comforting her, because even now he knew her well enough to see she was spiraling.

I can’t, is what she needed to say. I can’t come back, Staci, I can’t, not me and not my baby, my hands are already covered in blood I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—

“—I’m so fucking scared, Ell.” Pratt’s voice wobbled on the other end, hitting straight at the fresh welt of guilt in her chest, ripping and tearing at it.

I can’t—

“I don’t want to be alone—”

I’m sorry I can’t I’m sorry—

“—I’m sorry—”

“I’ll come,” she blurted out, her voice hoarse, the burn behind her eyes and in her nose a threat of oncoming tears. She couldn’t stand it—couldn’t bear to hear him like this, when this whole time he was supposed to have been safe. She’d let him down, and while she had a responsibility to herself, the responsibility to the others had always come first.

And, better still, was the tiny, tiny fragment of hope that the dark-haired woman with a mouth like broken glass would be left behind, too. The dog with the man’s face and the strands of her hair glinting between Its bloody teeth would stay here, in Weyfield. It would wait for her, but perhaps there would be some peace there, too.

It waits for you, It waits for us all, It will have you. As It gives, so too does It take.

“Tell them I’m coming back.” Elliot bit the words out through her teeth. “And tell them if I come back and you’re hurt, or dead, or—if there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to fucking kill them. Okay?”

“No need,” came Jacob’s voice over the phone. “You’re on speaker, Deputy Honeysett. We’re well acquainted with your particular brand of mania.”

“Great,” she snapped, feeling a vicious flush spread through her cheeks despite the fact that she didn’t feel bad at all for what she’d said. “You thought I was fucking manic before? I had nothing to lose, then. Imagine how much worse I’ll make your life now—”

John’s hand squeezed again. This time, she shot him a venomous look over her shoulder and shrugged him off. Elliot knotted her fingers in Boomer’s fur and prompted again, “Is that clear?”

The eldest Seed sounded like he was smiling when he said, “Crystal, Deputy.”

“Good.” She paused. “And don’t fucking call me that. I’m not a deputy, anymore.”

“Sure thing, hellcat.”

“Pratt—”

Jacob’s voice came again: “Have a safe trip.”

The phone call beeped once, twice, three times, and then ended. The hard knot of dread in the pit of her stomach did not lessen; she hit the redial button, and it went straight to voicemail. Again, and again, and again, her hands shaking as she thought wait, I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to promise I’d be there, I’m coming Pratt, I’m coming please don’t be worried, before she shoved the phone into John’s grip.

“Call him back,” she demanded, “make him pick up the phone—”

“Elliot,” he began, “if he turned the phone off, I can’t—”

“Fuck you!” she snapped, coming to a stand and raking her fingers through her hair. “You fucking knew they had Pratt, didn’t you? You knew that he was still trapped there and he didn’t get out, and you fucking left him there, so that you could pull me back if it didn’t go the way you wanted—”

John stood too, setting the phone on the bedside table and lifting his hands. The gesture was meant to calm and soothe, see my hands? Here they are, no threat here, but all it did was make her angrier, stoke a fire inside of her that had apparently lain dormant since she’d left Hope County.

Elliot smacked his hands down. “Don’t treat me like some fucking animal, John.”

“I’m not,” he defended quickly, dropping his hands all the way back to his sides when Boomer barked twice, sharp and accusatory, hackles lifting. “I didn’t know Pratt was still there. I thought the Resistance had got him out, and I didn’t bother asking.”

“You should have bothered—”

“I’m just as displeased as you are,” John interjected dryly, the dark coloring of his tone implying that he was—but for perhaps a different reason. It struck her that he might, in fact, be so displeased because he was aware of their history, on some level. It did feel a little gratifying to know that he was squirming for such an insignificant reason.

“You fuckhead,” she spit. “You put a fucking baby in me and you still have the insecurity of a middle school boy.”

“We both know,” he replied tartly, “that our baby is not in any way binding you to me, Elliot. And is it so shocking, considering that the thing that I want most in the world is for you to come home, and you fight me at every turn—”

“Hope County isn’t my home anymore—”

“—but Staci Pratt calls you and cries a little into the phone, and you’re jumping at the bit to go back?”

“Fuck. Off,” Elliot bit out between her teeth, face flushing. “Pratt is my friend, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Right,” John agreed, “because you let the person you hate fuck you.”

Her mouth clamped shut, biting and swallowing back a wad of venom she thought might make her sick if she let it out. There was too much of it, the things that she wanted to say—fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou, I fucking hate you, you make me sick, if anything is wrong with Pratt I’ll kill your brothers and then I’ll fucking kill you too—but she didn’t say any of it.

Instead, she said, “Get out. I’m getting changed and we’re leaving.”

John sighed, passing a hand over his face for a moment like maybe he regretted what he’d said. “We can’t.”

She felt her voice spike, near incredulous hysteria: “Pardon?”

“Old Father Time of the Job Ineptitude mentioned he had Federal agents showing up out of nowhere,” he snapped. The words had her stomach twisting; her first thought was a tiny spike of happiness at the idea of Cameron Burke, and then it was quickly doused by the sharp reminder that she’d stolen his gun and ran with it. Because he thought she was crazy. Because he was going to put her behind bars.

John continued, “He seemed to be implying it was somehow related to me showing up, and by proxy you, and if we up and leave—”

“It’ll make it look more suspicious,” she finished, feeling a little numb. “Okay, so—what? How long do we have to wait?”

He scratched his cheek, his eyes flickering absently over the duvet on the bed, like he was trying to map it out in his own head. No doubt, he was trying to operate on multiple timelines—the timeline of Not Raising Suspicion, and whatever timeline Joseph had given him.

Some things really did never change.

“After your mother’s Christmas party,” he ventured finally. “It’s not quite Christmas—could look enough like we’re sticking around for enough holiday cheer to be passable before leaving again. Pritchard’s clearly not unfamiliar with your mother’s...”

His voice trailed off. He looked to her as though asking for permission to say something critical; when Elliot remained stonefaced and immovable, he finished, “...temperament.”

“Nice save.”

“Well,” he replied, humble as ever. “Anyway, that probably wouldn’t rouse suspicion. If it is Burke, and your house isn’t getting stormed right now, I have to think he’s here on unofficial business. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they just come and bust the door down and grab you?”

Elliot hoped that was the case. She hoped this meant that Burke was just trying to find her, and was not hunting her down at the behest of the government. If there was one thing that Joseph had been right about amidst all his doomsday-saying and whatnot, it was that according to the news, there was a big chance the government had bigger things on their hands. Bigger concerns than a tiny town in Montana and its cult inhabitants.

“Get out,” she said again. “So I can change.”

“You—” John sucked in a little breath, stopping himself from what was inevitably going to be stirring another argument; he lifted his hands again, this time in surrender. “Alright, Ell. I said you’d get anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Chop-chop.”

“I’m going. Mind if I pull some clothes on before I walk out into the house owned by your mother, where she has almost assuredly been sipping her vodka martini since four AM?”

She felt her eyes narrow. “Fine.”

Turning, she crossed the bedroom into the master bath and shut the door behind her, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes until fine webbing scattered across the dark of her eyelids. This was the last thing she needed—and it felt, surely, traitorous and awful to think it, to think, this is the last thing I need, Pratt needing rescuing, when the only reason she’d felt comfortable leaving Hope County in the first place was because she thought the only people who were left were cultists.

Elliot dropped her hands from her eyes, blinking a few times until her vision cleared. In the mirror—much as it had been since coming back from Hope County—stood a girl that she thought looked like a stranger. Blushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips, her neck littered with love marks, the healthy glow blooming up from beneath the WRATH scar on her chest, exposed by her loosely cinched robe.

That’s not me, she thought, pulling absently on a strand of red hair and swallowing thickly. I’m not that girl.

Her face was softer than before, more lively color rising up around her eyes and cheeks and mouth. More of her freckles had come out. There was a tiny, tiny—almost imperceptible—slope to her tummy, now, too.

Not me, came the thought again, more distressed this time, her brows pulling together at the center of her forehead. That’s not me. I’m not that girl. Who are you, pretty girl? Not me.

The woman and her dark hair—dark dark dark, like an oil slick, looming in the corner of her mind. Her mouth red as pomegranate and stretched like broken glass.

I hear stress is bad for the baby.

A knock came at the door. Elliot blinked, feeling unwell and unsure of how long she’d been standing there, her hand having dropped to cup the slope of her stomach experimentally. Women did that, right? When they were pregnant? Did it make them feel closer to the baby? Did it make them feel more protected?

Did she feel safer?

“Ell,” John said, nudging the door open, “your mother is...”

Pulling away from the door, she cinched the robe tight and busied herself at the sink, turning the water on. As he stepped into the bathroom, she could see John was now fully-dressed, freshly-showered. She’d been standing in front of the mirror trying to recognize the person staring back at her long enough for him to do that, it seemed.

“That was a quick shower,” she said briskly, splashing her face and rubbing absently at her cheek. She could feel John’s eyes on her through the mirror, even though she refused to meet them.

“I’ve always preferred it that way,” he replied casually. And then: “Get distracted?”

Yes, she thought, but didn’t say, because then the things he’d said last night that had made her feel sane and normal wouldn’t mean anything anymore. John would have said I don’t think you’re crazy and he’d have to take it back, because if she told him there was a stranger standing in her mirror, he would think she was crazy.

“It’s weird,” is what Elliot offered after a moment, trying to find a way to be honest and redirect, “to see a baby bump. Even if it’s small.” She cleared her throat and fished her toothbrush out of the holder. Continuing briskly, she added, “And the scar. I spent a lot of time avoiding it.”

John’s expression had done that funny thing that she supposed was softening at her words. He stepped forward; the ghost of his fingers trailing her ribs over the robe made her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I’m not done being mad at you,” she warned him, eyes flickering to meet his gaze through the mirror.

“I know,” he replied, tone agreeable. “I just—”

The brunette paused then, waiting for her to stop him before he smoothed the warmth of his palm over her hip, across the expanse of her abdomen. It was painfully intimate in a way that didn’t imply sex—intimate, in the way that she felt seen, that she could see the relief coloring the edges of his expression.

John pressed his mouth to the back of her shoulder. “Just missed you,” he murmured after a moment. “Getting to touch you. Even just like this. Especially just like this—”

Something panged sharp and unforgiving in her chest. “Well, don’t get used to it,” she replied tightly, brushing his hand away from the baby bump after letting it linger for a moment. “And I don’t remember inviting you in.”

“Your mother was asking after you,” John said, by way of explanation, looking pleased from their little moment. Fucker. “She wanted to know if you’d be drinking coffee this morning. I think her exact words were, ‘Mr. Seed, would you ask my daughter if she’s going to take the risk of drinking coffee this morning? I know she shouldn’t be, with her condition—’”

“Ugh.”

“‘—but since we’re going to be picking out her dress for the Christmas party today, I could make an exception—’”

“Fuck me,” she muttered, wetting her toothbrush and putting the toothpaste on it. “Ask her if she can make it extra strong.”

“I’m actually enjoying being out of your mother’s ire for a minute.”

Elliot rolled her eyes. “No coffee for me.”

“Got it.” John headed for the bathroom door, and then paused again, turning to look at her. “Ell,” he began, “I really didn’t know—you know, about Pratt.”

That pesky little flutter of something agonizingly sweet—softness—in her chest flared again.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” is what she said, before she turned the toothbrush on and started scrubbing her teeth. That seemed enough of an answer for John, for once, because he left and closed the door quietly behind him after deliberating.

The minutes, and hours, and days—well, day or two—until they got back to Hope County were going to be something close to agony. She could only hope they had taken her seriously when she told them that she’d better come back to a Pratt in one piece.

I don’t want to be alone. Pratt’s voice echoed hauntingly in her head. She thought she could remember the sound of voices in the background—a woman’s, at least. Faith? Or John’s friend, Isolde? Surely Jacob and Joseph were there listening to him call her, too. She’d been so fucking stupid to let them get to her.

No, not stupid. Not stupid to want Pratt to feel safe, and like someone was coming back for him.

I’m sorry, she thought tiredly, as though the words could somehow get to him. I’m sorry, that it’s me you have to wait for.

I’m sorry that I won’t be the person you remembered.

I’m sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You did so well, Staci.”

Faith’s voice jarred him out of the weird pause in time he’d been marinating in. It had been just a few seconds, maybe—Jacob and Joseph were talking in low voices, the dark-haired woman standing at the point of their little triangle with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed—that his brain had shut off, the distress in Elliot’s voice echoing eerily in his head. She’d sounded so upset. He wouldn’t have called, wouldn’t have started to ask her to come back, if he’d known how much she didn’t want to.

But that wasn’t true, either. He would have called, because Helmi had said, Either the Seeds are going to drag her back by her hair kicking and screaming, and eventually kill her, or she comes back and we keep her safe.

‘Safe’ had been the keyword there. He didn’t know how much he could take the woman at her word, but considering everything—well, it was better than trying to take the Seeds at their word.

Faith’s hand touched the back of his, startling him into a tiny jump. He cleared his throat. “Um—I wasn’t...Acting.”

“Still,” she replied sweetly, “I know it must have been hard.”

She was so polished—skin all dusted silver and moonlike, flushed with a little high color in her cheeks, her blonde hair tumbling around her face loosely. In the chapel, the air was tepid at best, and frigid at worst, keeping a little pink in everyone’s faces.

It was strange to look at her now. Her hands were soft; her skin unblemished. Just hours ago, he’d been sitting in the car, noticing the same kinds of details about Helmi—about how human she looked, hand slung over a steering wheel, her cracked phone plugged into the truck’s stereo and her chipped nail polish and the scars and bruises littering her knuckles. The way she’d shot him a toothy, wolfish grin as she cranked the volume up and said, What, Staci Pratt, you don’t like Blue Öyster Cult either?

In comparison, Faith didn’t feel human at all. She felt like a dream.

“Can—” Pratt came to a stand, rubbing his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Can I go? Lay down, or something?”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him. The dark-haired woman, who Jacob kept referring to as Sol, completely ignored his question and looked at the redhead to say, “Has someone checked him for head trauma?”

“I’m not—concussed!” Pratt snapped, his voice wobbling. “I’m just tired.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked like maybe he wanted to say something, and then reconsidered, saying, “Dr. Hale will take a look at you and then sure, Peaches, you can rest.”

It took every ounce of his self-control to not tell Jacob to stop calling him that. He had to remember that as far as they were concerned, he hadn’t been taken in by the “other side”, he’d been sitting scared and meek like a good boy at the compound.

Pratt’s eyes darted, catching sight of the woman that Jacob gestured to with a free hand. Right. The Fall’s End vet. She’d been here for what—a little over a year? He couldn’t tell if she was being held captive by Eden’s Gate or if she was there by her own volition, though the few times he’d run into her before she’d seemed like a pretty even-keel person. Didn’t she have like, two degrees or something? What was she doing here?

He made his way to the back of the church, meeting the curly-haired blonde halfway. Definitely looked too clean to be a cultist. “You’re not a people doctor, right?” he asked uneasily, watching as her head cocked to the side and her mouth quirked in a bit of amusement.

“No, Mr. Pratt, I am not a people doctor.” She fell into step beside him, opening the chapel door for him. “But I do have first aid training, which I think is about as good as you’re going to get around these parts.”

“I didn’t get a concussion.”

“That’s good. When was the last time you ate?”

His mouth twisted in a frown, trailing after through the snow as the cold began to sink into his bones. She seemed awfully confident moving around the compound, if she wasn’t part of the cult. But if she was, what was she doing here? How did—?

Pain bloomed behind his eyes, a fresh headache sinking into his nerves. Too much. It was too much confusion, about Elliot (pregnant? And John Seed was with her?) and about the Family and about all of these—these people that he didn’t really recognize hanging around the Seeds. And the compound was so quiet. Where was everyone? Had the Family really taken that many of Eden’s Gate out?

“Mr. Pratt?”

The woman opened a door into a bunkhouse that glowed with golden light from within and radiated heat. Two long-haired shepherds lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, lifting long faces and peering at him with dark eyes. He stepped inside and cleared his throat.

“Uh, a day, maybe,” he replied after a minute. Taking a seat when she gestured for him to, he shifted uncomfortably as she set a first aid kid on the cushion beside him and pulled one of the wooden chairs up in front of him.

“And slept?” She blew a curl out of her face and opened the kit, fishing around to find some alcohol wipes and Neosporin. He guessed he was a bit worse for wear than he’d thought, initially; not that he’d been taking great care of himself, even when it had just been him and Dani. She’d encouraged him to stay high, not stay better.

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

He let out a little hiss when she pressed one of the alcohol wipes to a cut on his cheek.

“The same,” he replied, reaching up and brushing her hand away. “What—what are you doing here, doctor?”

“Arden is fine.” She sat back, regarding him curiously. “I’m cleaning that cut, Mr. Pratt. It looks agitated.”

“No, I—” Pratt let out a little breath. “I mean here. In the compound.”

Arden stared at him for a moment, like she didn’t understand why he was asking her that question. She lifted her hand and arched a brow inquisitively; when he nodded shortly, she leaned forward again, balancing her free hand on his shoulder and using the other to gently dab at the cut.

“I’ve spent the last month or so holed up in my house,” she explained to him. “Me, and the dogs, I mean.”

A little smile ghosted over her lips, and despite himself, Pratt felt a wry smile tugging at his own. It was difficult not to feel relaxed, when Arden moved with so much surety. In the glow of the radiators ticking away and the warm yellow light, especially.

“Mostly reading. They had assigned one of the boys to me—Santiago. I think he’s John’s man. He doesn’t strike me as one of Joseph or Faith’s.”

Pratt made a little noise of agreement, because he knew exactly what she was talking about. She dropped the alcohol wipes to the side and reached over for the Neosporin, dabbing some onto her finger and then reaching back up to resume her work.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “That you got—stuck, I mean. Here.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize, Mr. Pratt.”

“I feel partially responsible,” he admitted, feeling some of the tension flee his shoulders. “You know, being law enforcement and all—”

“Hold still, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “I guess what I mean is—sometimes it feels like a real failing on our part. All of those people, I...”

He paused, and Arden leaned back, giving him a pat on the knee. “That’s alright, Mr. Pratt,” and her voice bloomed with comfort. “Where was I?”

“Up at your house, with the dogs and maybe one of John’s men.”

“Right. I wasn’t allowed to leave, you know, on account of the—” She gestured with an elegant hand. “Cult running amok.”

He nodded. “Cult number two.”

Arden smiled, and continued, “And then just a few days ago, after one of them started killing those folks in Fall’s End, Jacob came up to get me.”

The way she said it made him feel, a little uneasily, that maybe he was misreading it. Jacob came up to get me did not sound like Jacob came to pick me up because I’m his prisoner.

And then she said, “He was worried, you know. Only having a radio up there. I know how to use a gun, but I’d prefer not to, if I don’t have to, and—”

“Sorry,” he blurted out, “but are you—”

She blinked light eyes at him, almost owlishly, like she didn’t understand the question. “Am I...?”

“With? Them?” Pratt gestured towards where the chapel lay, beyond the bunkhouse walls. “The—Eden’s Gate?”

“Oh!” Arden laughed, almost sheepishly; he felt a nervous little laugh bubbling out of him too, almost hoping for the relief of her assuring him that she was, in fact, not in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

She came to a stand and pulled a bottle of ibuprofen and a granola bar out of the kit, dropping them in his hand.

“Eat the bar before you take the ibuprofen,” she told him, “or it’ll—well, I’m sure you know. Upset stomach, and all that. Do you want to take a shower?”

Pratt’s fingers curled around the ibuprofen bottle. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry,” Arden replied, not sounding very sorry at all, “I guess I just thought it a bit silly. Who else would I be “with”?”

His stomach somersaulted, sinking viciously. Suddenly, the granola bar—which had certainly been sitting in the kit for who knew how long—looked even less appetizing than before. While his vision swam for a second, the woman carried on conversationally, as though she had not just revealed herself to—

Well, to be in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

“But—they think the world is ending,” Pratt blurted out, lifting his eyes to look at her finally. “And—doctor, all the people they killed, and—”

“Don’t strain yourself, Mr. Pratt. You’ve been under quite a bit of duress as of late, I think, and it would be best to try and keep those stress levels down.” She moved to the small pantry beside the bathroom, shuffling around and producing a few towels, leaning into the bathroom to set them on the counter. “Though, you do bring up a funny point—have you been listening to the news? I suppose you haven’t. I remember listening to the news before all of this business went down and thinking that the world had ended a long time ago. We were just a bit behind, all the way out here. Do you want to take a shower?”

Blinking furiously, Pratt searched his brain for the answer; he muddled through the disappointment raking down his spine, the delicate little hope that had been fostered at the prospect of finding someone who was kind and not under the Seeds’ thumb being crushed beneath the weight of the reality of his situation.

“Yes please,” he managed out, his voice hoarse.

“Alright. Eat that bar first, so you don’t pass out in the hot water. And Mr. Pratt?”

“Y—” He had clumsily ripped open the granola bar and shoved half into his mouth, the fear of being seen as disobedient when Jacob Seed was within radius flickering like a wildfire through his body. He swallowed thickly, the dry food feeling like it was sticking to the inside of his mouth. “Um, yes?”

Her expression colored sympathetic, Arden reached down and fished a water bottle out of the case, dropping it in his hand.

“The honorific isn’t necessary,” she told him. “Remember, Arden is just fine.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled. “I mean—Arden.”

She smiled, this time with teeth. “Good. You holler if you need me.”

I won’t, he thought, even though she was probably preferable to anyone else coming to his rescue.

Maybe he really would rather be dead.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Scarlet insisted that John stay at the house while they went to the boutique. It was all a big show of his mother-in-law attempting, he thought, to be polite, though she failed miserably at it; and as much as John wanted to argue that it would probably be best if he came along—considering their late-night visitor—he could tell when a battle was a lost one, and when it wasn’t.

“Do you think you can do that, Mr. Seed?” she asked, pulling the objectively ostentatious fur coat around her shoulders and buttoning it. “Remain in my home for a few hours, without causing me any problems?”

He said, “I think I can certainly give it a shot,” to which the blonde rolled her eyes.

“Please do more than that.”

“Rest assured, I am fully capable of behaving myself, Mrs. Honeysett.”

He couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Every second he spent in her presence, being reminded of how little she liked him given how much she didn’t know about him—or care to get to know about him, anyway—he thought, I cannot fucking wait to get back to Hope County and the resurgence of the Family. I cannot wait until that is my only fucking problem. Anyone else and she would have been thoroughly cleansed; clearly, Wrath ran in the family. Just the thought of it made his fingers itch.

Elliot had looked tired already, standing at the door and letting her mother go first. As soon as Scarlet was out the door, carefully picking her way down the front steps, John’s hand went to Ell’s hip; her lashes fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t jerk away; only tensed, considering the act of balking and pulling away from him but not yet committing. So there had been progress.

Her free hand came to his shoulder, resting there uncertainly. “Please don’t do anything to my mother’s house.”

“As much as I would love to, I will refrain from my wretched impulses. I am a man of God, after all.” He grimaced. “Do you think she’ll like me more if things are immaculate?”

“Ha-ha. She certainly will not.” She paused, letting out a little breath. “Okay. Back in an hour.”

He felt a smile tug at his mouth. “Ambitious.” His hand drifted to the small of her back, and he said, “Ell, before you go—”

“John, I don’t—”

Elliot turned to look at him at the same time that he stepped forward, closing what little distance there was and rapidly; she blinked, and her eyes flickered to his mouth instinctively, like she was expecting it—like she’d gotten used to the affection when he closed in on her like that. The gesture sent a little thrill through his stomach.

Mine.

“Don’t let her stress you out,” John murmured, keeping his voice low between just the two of them. “You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

She turned her face away, cheeks going pink. “What’s this, huh? Still trying to make up for being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

He grinned. “You really have gotten brattier.”

“Goodbye, John,” she said, and then he leaned in and kissed her; the connection made every part of him sigh, collectively, as though he’d just been waiting for it.

Waiting for her.

Yes yes yes, it all said when she didn’t pull away, his fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater at the small of her back as her hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, yes, mine all mine.

Elliot did pull back after a moment, putting a bit of space between them—though it seemed more to catch her breath than anything else. She only pulled back enough for their eyes to meet; John’s gaze darted downward, watching pearly teeth as they tugged at her lower lip, worrying it there for a moment.

“To answer your question,” he continued as casually as he could, “that’s not how I intend on making that up to you.”

“So you agree?” Elliot asked. Her voice came out evenly, despite the color blooming underneath the freckles on her cheeks. “You were being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

“I did so miss our banter.”

“Bunny,” Scarlet called impatiently from the driveway, “the boutique is going to get crowded if we don’t get there when it opens.”

“I’m coming!” Her gaze darted back to him. “The best way to make it up to me would be to say the words out loud,” Elliot informed him as she inched toward the door. “So that baby can hear them, too. At least you’ll have been more honest around our child than with me, if we’re keeping a running tally, and we should—”

He tugged her back from the doorway again, lighter, more playful as he went in to kiss her a second time; but she pulled back, just out of his reach, hand planted firmly on his chest.

Elliot said, “I told you not to get used to it.”

“I’m not,” he answered lightly, “just taking what I can get.”

“Elliot.”

“Coming!” Elliot cinched her coat up more snug, closer to her throat and where the scar lay expertly over her sternum, and snagged the keys off of the counter to the beat-up Honda Civic John had lifted from Eden’s Gate. Right. He couldn’t wait to hear Scarlet’s input on that car ride.

The redhead made it down two steps before she paused, turning and looking at John and going, “Um, bye,” in a tone that was more sheepish than he anticipated; it was almost shy, and it caught him so off-guard that he didn’t even get the chance to muster a response before she was making her way across the snowy driveway.

“Drive safe,” John called, once he’d gathered his senses a bit more. Elliot glanced at him over her shoulder and then ducked into the car, closing the door and beginning to pull her way down the drive. He waited until they’d turned onto the freshly plowed road before he turned back into the house and closed the front door behind him.

Boomer had seated himself in front of the window, letting out a little whine as his tail swept along the floor.

“C’mon, furry sentinel,” he sighed, not risking putting his hand within biting reach. “Just you and me today.”

The Heeler whined again, apparently thoroughly displeased at this news, and stayed rooted at the window to watch for his girl to come home.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he hit the redial button on the number they’d gotten a call from that morning and waited as the phone rang, pacing around the polished living room. It rang enough times as he idly adjusted glasses on a bar cart that he thought for certain no one would pick up—and then the phone clicked, and a warm voice came through.

“Hi, John.”

He blinked in surprise. “Hello, Faith. How’d you get this phone?”

“Isolde passed it to me when she saw your call. She wanted me to tell you that she’s too busy to talk to you.”

A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like everything’s operating as normal, then.”

“I suppose.” Faith paused. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I am.”

“With Elliot?”

“Yes, she—” John cleared his throat and made an effort to sound as unbothered as possible. “She’s very concerned about Deputy Pratt’s well-being.”

“We’re taking good care of him. Will you tell her that? Better than he’d be getting out there, anyway,” and she said the word out there with such a surprising amount of venom that John realized he’d nearly forgotten about the Family’s reappearance. Well, there couldn’t be that many of them left, could there?

And then Faith said, “A lot of us are dead, John.”

His hand went to the mantle for a little support as he leaned against it. There was a bit of a bite to Faith’s voice—almost accusatory. A lot of us are dead, she said, as he stood in the plush home of his mother-in-law while they went dress shopping for a Christmas party. It occurred to him that none of his siblings—nor Isolde—were aware of what they’d been dealing with the last couple of days; they must have felt like he was getting off easy.

“The Father says we only have a little while longer,” she continued, “and that if we can’t fix this in time, we won’t wait for you. He’s been alone, a lot. Talking to God. Praying for more time, for you.”

The words made his stomach wrench, a little. He would have felt worse if he didn’t know already that there was an exit plan in place, one that Elliot was already on board for. “We’re only here for another day, and then we’re leaving” John replied. “The sheriff mentioned some—Federal agents. I don’t want to rouse suspicion and bring them down on us again.”

“Do you think it’s Burke?”

“Maybe.” He pressed his forehead against the stone mantle. “Probably. No one’s come storming in yet.”

“I hope it’s him. I hope he follows you all the way back here.” And then, darker: “He has a lot to apologize for.”

John made a low noise of agreement. It felt good to have a conversation with someone who seemed to be on the same side as him, for once—no bickering with Scarlet, no bickering with Elliot, and no bickering with Isolde. As of late, it seemed he was only capable of incurring arguments; though that did seem to be changing quickly with his wife.

“We’re having a service soon. Did you want me to tell Joseph anything?”

“Ah, no, that’s alright. I just wanted to let you know we had a plan.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No,” John said again, more quickly and with a bout of unease sprinting up his spine. “No, that’s alright. I’ll let you go. We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Alright.” Faith’s voice lightened when she added, “Tell Elliot I said hello.”

Bad idea, he thought, but said, “Of course,” and hit the end call button. It wasn’t until his entire body relaxed that he realized he’d been fully tensed, waiting for some kind of verbal blow—and though there had been a few, he felt...

Fine.

I feel fine.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Joseph was praying for more time for them. They’d make it back without a hitch. And then, when the world ended, and took the remainder of the Family with them—

Well, that would be all the better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“My children.”

The heaters rattled, clicking in the lukewarm air in a steady, mechanical heartbeat. Candles lit throughout the chapel drenched the members of Eden’s Gate in a strange, golden glow, and as Joseph’s voice carried all the way to the back where Staci sat between Jacob and Arden. He could see in the front row sat Faith and the dark-haired woman—who he’d come to understand was Isolde Khan, John’s old business partner—and there was a moment where Joseph’s eyes fixed on her before they lifted back to the congregation.

“God has truly been testing us,” the man continued, pacing away from the altar the front, hands folded behind him. “As you know, I have spent a lot of time in silence and solitude so that I might be the most open to receiving from Him. For the longest time, I thought—had we done something wrong? Had I led us astray? Were we being punished?”

An uneasy murmur rippled throughout the crowd. In the front, Pratt could see Isolde writing something down in a notebook; he wished he was closer, so he could see what it was—what was so interesting that she was taking notes now, of all times? What could she possibly be doing?

Preparing for the worst-case scenario, he thought idly, shifting in his seat. Jacob’s eyes cut over to him and he cleared his throat. The shower had done nothing to ease his nerves.

“But I’ll tell you—devout, and loyal, we have not been left to the wayside.” Joseph stopped, pressing a hand onto a woman’s shoulder, squeezing. “I have heard His voice. I have received His word. We are not only followers of God’s word—we are His soldiers.”

The noise that passed through the congregation this time was brighter, agreements—it must have felt good. Not just passive sheep, to be shepherded; soldiers. Capable of violence. And they were.

“We are His warriors.”

The woman Joseph’s hand was on was getting teary-eyed, and when he departed from her to sidle his way down the aisle, she all but collapsed in on herself, folding in half to bury her face in her hands. Another attestation of acknowledgment rippled around him, louder.

“This world is a wretched, vile machine, taking in and spitting out sin, flooding our garden with locusts,” the Prophet continued, his voice lifting in volume. “We are, my children, the only people who have the great fortune of seeing this—of knowing what no one else in the world seems capable of understanding. God has told me—”

Sick, Pratt thought dizzily, I’m going to be sick.

“—that a life of bliss awaits us, if we can only...”

Joseph paused, as though he needed to look for the words, as though he hadn’t been reciting this all day in preparation for the sermon; Pratt knew that he must, the assured cadence of his voice coming so firmly that there was no way it wasn’t rehearsed.

“...look past the dread, and the fear,” he continued earnestly, allowing his hand to be taken by another member, “because fear is the language of the Devil—if we can look past it, and dedicate ourselves fully to His cause, there is only happiness and serenity waiting for us on the other side of this.”

“How do we do it, Father?” a man to the other side of Jacob cried out, his voice a panicked fever-pitch. “How do we show Him we’re devoted?”

Joseph’s head turned. His gaze landed on Pratt, lingering before lifting to the congregant. “We’ve got to stop the machine.”

Optimism flooded the crowd. An easy solution. Stop the machine, like it was nothing. Like they weren’t dealing with a group of people who killed as easily as they did.

“Throw your bodies upon the gears, upon the wheels, upon all the apparatus,” Joseph intoned dutifully, pacing back toward the front. “Whatever it takes to bring the machine to a grinding halt. We can no longer passively take part in the End—we are warriors of God, and our divine right is not instinctively endowed. It is earned. And we will show that we have earned it by exterminating these interlopers invading our garden.”

Pratt’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Eden’s Gate members came to a stand around him; loomed in his vision; eclipsed what little murky light reached him. Cheers and applause rolling around in his head. He thought for sure he’d heard this all somewhere, before—

Oh, yes. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all! The irony of Joseph lifting lines from an activist’s speech was not lost on him.

A heavy hand gripped the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Stand up,” Jacob muttered. “Good posture’s important.”

He steadied himself on the pew ahead of him. Amidst the chatter of the congregation, eventually quieted down by Joseph’s patience at the front of the chapel, he could hear renewed excitement. More life had been breathed into the peggies than he’d seen in a long time—well, considering that he’d only been here roughly a day, and the whole place felt like a ghost town even now, that was saying something.

“Please,” Joseph called lightly, “join me in prayer.”

Heads bowed. Pratt let his chin drop to his chest, but his eyes didn’t close; his gaze darted to his right, where Arden stood, hands clasped politely in front of her. Her head did not bow for prayer.

He was only vaguely aware of the words coming out of Joseph’s mouth, redirecting his eyes back to the floorboards beneath his worn shoes. Lord, we pray that you might show us guidance and wisdom in these uncertain times; show us how to be most like you, for only you are perfect...

Elliot was going to come back to this. She was going to come back to this, and he was going to have to figure out how to get her out of here without any of the Seeds noticing. Helmi had said, meet me out back, by the river, in three nights, but he couldn’t keep track. Had it been one night? Two? Less than one?

“I am your Father,” Joseph was saying. “You are my Children. Together, and only together, will we march through the Gates of Eden.”

A rousing amen echoed around him. They milled about, chatting excitedly—perhaps delighted to have a focus for their ire, for their agitation. The members of Eden’s Gate looked worse than Pratt remembered. Dirtier. Thinner. More exhausted. He thought that it must be nice to have a purpose—

Fuck me, not that shit again.

He filed out of the row behind Arden, and with Jacob behind him, following her to the front where Isolde and Joseph stood. They were speaking in low tones, bundled close together; she tapped her ten against the front of her notepad in what looked like an agitated tick, but he couldn’t hear what it was she was saying. By the time they were close that he might have heard, Joseph lifted his head from where he’d bent a little to speak closely and looked at him, smiling.

“It was nice to see your face in the crowd this day, Deputy Pratt,” he said, his voice warm. “Did you enjoy the sermon?”

Pratt opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn’t want to play this game.

“Go on, Peaches,” Jacob prompted, clapping his shoulder.

The nickname sparked something angry inside of him, like dragging a match against the sandpaper side of the box. If there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to kill them, Elliot had said.

Pratt turned his gaze to Joseph. “I thought the Mario Savio part was a bit much.”

A surprised, abrupt laugh barked out of Jacob. Joseph’s expression remained flat and serene. In fact, the only person who seemed to have any negative opinion about his words was Isolde, narrowing her eyes as she turned to look at him fully.

“We’re not exactly looking to hit notes with the intellectuals in the crowd, Deputy Pratt,” she informed him coolly. “They don’t care who said it first. They care who said it better.”

“Y—” Pratt swallowed. “Okay, well—”

“‘Okay, well’ shut the fuck up,” she snapped. “Or I’ll have Jacob take you out back and put you down like Old Yeller.”

“You can’t,” he protested quickly, “Elliot said—”

“Do you think I care in the least what some woman five states away said?” Isolde cut over him quickly, the elegant, soft roll of her accent a strange and unsettling juxtaposition to her words. “I’m getting this ship in fit fucking order, and that means I don’t need you inspiring dissent. Anyone with an opinion that is less than glowing, radiant, gorgeous—they get taken care of, whatever that means. Got it?”

Pratt closed his mouth tightly, until the pressure was beginning to build between his molars. I just have to make it until Elliot gets here, and then—and then I’ll—then I can get—

He took in a little breath. “Yes.”

“Peachy.” Isolde flashed a smile that was all-too-saccharine, and then turned to Joseph. “Let’s sit.”

“Of course.”

They departed to a pew just to the left of them. Jacob was grinning at him, wolfish.

“Thought about telling you she wrote it,” he said, “but that was much more entertaining.”

“You look pale, Staci,” added Arden, her voice light as it redirected from Jacob’s apparent joy at his suffering. “Maybe you should go lay down. I don’t want you straining any of those injuries.”

Okay, he thought, and maybe the words came out of him but he couldn’t tell; he couldn’t tell anymore, but he did want to go lay down. Lay down, and close his eyes, and sleep until Elliot got back.

He’d never been happier at the prospect of seeing an ex-girlfriend.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When they arrived at the boutique, Sylvia was standing outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet in what Elliot could only assume was an attempt to get warm. It was difficult, to focus on something as inane and arbitrary as dress shopping when she knew that Pratt was back in Hope County, dealing with God-knew-what the Seeds were throwing at him.

Well, the Seeds. And more. The Family, who were supposed to be dead, and—

I hear stress is bad for the baby. A familiar accent, wasn’t it?

“Well, are you just gonna sit in there all day or what?” her mother asked, having stepped out of the passenger side.

“Did you invite Sylvia?”

Scarlet sighed. “I thought it might be nice, for you.”

It was an unexpectedly sincere gesture on her mother’s part. She swallowed a thick emotion down, clearing her throat and managing out, “It—is, mama, thank you,” before she got out of the car and took the keys with her, heading towards the front doors of the main street store.

“Howdy, Freckles!” Sylvia greeted her warmly, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. “Been a few. Wyatt’s still got your Jeep, he’s been runnin’ it a few minutes a day to make sure the battery doesn’t go bad.” She smiled brightly, turning to Elliot’s mother. “Mrs. Honeysett, you look mighty lovely.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Sylvia tugged the door to the boutique open, ushering them inside so that she could trail in after. The inside of the store was toasty warm, making Elliot regret having worn a scarf, but it was too late now—the coat and scarf combination were doing the work to keep her scar covered.

“I just love this place,” Scarlet sighed, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the rack by the door. “What do you think, Elliot? Maybe something blue. I’d put you in green, but with that red hair, you’d look like a Christmas ornament. Blue’s a nice winter color—very fashionable.”

“Sure, mama,” Elliot replied, brushing her fingers along the silk of one of the dresses. The last time she’d been in anything that blue and nice had been back in Hope County. At her “baptism”. The same one Burke had been dragged to, the same one that John had held her under for just a little too long for, maybe distracted by the Marshal’s arrival back then.

“Psst.” The sound of Via’s voice caught her attention, pulling her from the waking memory. The blonde had pulled what appeared to be the most atrocious Christmas gown that could have been looked at off of the rack, holding it up and lifting her eyebrows as Scarlet chatted enthusiastically with the store’s saleswoman.

“Stop it,” Elliot said, fighting back a smile. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, dead serious, Freckles.”

“It has mistletoe on it, Via.”

“How else am I supposed to fetch a husband, if not by readily-accessible entrapment?”

Well, she thought a little dryly, that is how John got a wife.

It was odd, to think of the moment with anything less than hostility—to have come to a point where there were things more pressing than a marriage that, in the end, might not matter anyway. John had said that he knew the baby didn’t mean she’d take him back; had acknowledged there was no guarantee. For once, he’d shown up in her life with every intention laid bare for her to see.

Maybe not every intention. But she’d root them all out, eventually, and pretend like it hadn’t become something of a game, to catch John in a lie and watch him squirm.

She let the boutique’s owner show her around, clearly making quite a show for her mother, and politely turned down any suggestions for a deep v or off-the-shoulder type of garment. Sylvia had picked out a few; most blue, some blush, a few red, and then loaded some into Elliot’s arms.

“Try ‘em on!” she chirped. “Yes, even the green ones. Maybe your mama doesn’t want an Elliot Christmas ornament, but I do.”

Elliot heaved a sigh, though it was only half-sincere—anything delivered with Sylvia’s bright, cheery smile, she was hard-pressed to feel anything less than good about. Maybe that was dangerous, to be so comfortable with someone.

Or maybe, she thought, closing the dressing room door behind her, that’s just how having friends are. You remember what that was like.

She did. As she undressed and zipped the back of one of the red dresses Sylvia had selected—thoughtfully aware of the fact that she’d want most of her chest covered—she regarded herself in the mirror. There was that stranger again, flushed cheeks and bright eyes staring back at her. A familiar nose shape, a familiar slope of her cheekbones—but the rest of her. Where had she gone?

With one hand she pushed the door open, the other one lifting the back train of the dress as little as she walked out. A grimace had planted itself on her face, even despite Sylvia’s elaborate applause at her appearance.

“Oh, bunny, you look darling,” her mother sighed, having turned to take a look. “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

“Not big on the sparkles,” she admitted.

“I like them. You’ve always looked good in red, though. That fair complexion of your father’s.”

Sylvia grinned. “Try on a green one. I wanna imagine how you’ll look on my tree!”

Elliot stuck her tongue out at the blonde, turning around and scurrying back into the changing room. There were a few more dresses—even a green one—that were in the running, but eventually, she’d settled on a floor-length piece, dark blue velvet and halter-topped to get the most sternum coverage. When she’d redressed and rejoined the group outside, her mother was beaming as she gossiped with the boutique owner.

“Elliot’s quite modest,” her mother said conversationally, “and she’s already married, you know.”

“Thank you, mother,” Elliot sighed, a little smile fighting its way onto her face.

“Whatever are you still wearing your coat for? Your face is all red.”

“I’m—” She paused, swallowing. “Still cold.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Cold? It’s eighty degrees in here. And your face is all red.”

Sylvia had glanced up from across the store, neck-deep in dresses of a warmer shade. Elliot could feel the eyes on her—her friend, her mother, the boutique owner—and she cleared her throat and tugged absently at the tag on the dress.

“It’s fine,” she said after a minute.

“Well, at least take your scarf off.”

“I think it’s a lovely scarf,” the owner tried, a little helplessly.

“Mother, it’s—I’m fine—”

But her mother moved too quickly for her to realize what was happening; her mother’s hand unwound the scarf with expert ease, and then froze, her eyes fixed on what Elliot thought assuredly was the little of her WRATH scar, revealed.

Her stomach rolled. Heat flooded her body, worse than before—it was the kind of sticky-wet heat that came with the threat of throwing up, the kind that crept up the spine and gripped by the nape of the neck. Elliot felt her lashes flutter; she dropped the dress abruptly and yanked the scarf out of her mother’s hands to wind it securely around her neck again. The boutique owner had quickly turned to the clothing rack, as though something very emergent had occurred on the inanimate objects.

Stupid. She was so stupid. She should have just worn a sweater. She shouldn’t have looked at her scar that morning and thought, maybe it is something to love, she shouldn’t have ever risked the chance that her mother would see it, stupidstupidstupid—

“My God,” Scarlet said tightly, the tone of her voice washing Elliot with shame. “What did you do?”

I’m sorry, she wanted to say, automatically. Mama, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m not good anymore, I’m not—

“Phew, I sure am dressed-out,” Sylvia announced, having come over. “I’ll have to go home and weigh my options. Ell, you wanna head outside for some air?”

“I think that’s best,” her mother replied curtly, before Elliot could even think to formulate a sentence. “I’ll finish up in here.”

She thought about trying to say something—trying to explain, maybe, what it was that had happened. But how could she? Her mother had suffered through the years she’d inflicted pain on herself, after daddy and after Mason, and she had told her mother she was better, now. Healed. Good. What could she say, to make it alright?

Because there was no world where she could say, I didn’t want it, and mean it.

Via’s hand fit snugly in hers, tugging her lightly out through the front door of the boutique onto the street. It wasn’t until she took in a lungful of cold, dry air that she realized she’d been holding her breath; her lungs ached, her head swimming, and she was gripping Via’s hand too tightly.

“Hey,” Sylvia said softly, “s’okay.”

It’s not, she thought miserably, it’s not okay, I’m not okay, I want to go—

Where? Where could she go?

I want—

Nowhere? Anywhere?

—to go—

“Home,” she managed out unsteadily, “I should go home—”

Sylvia gave her hand a squeeze. “You want I should give your mama a ride back to the house?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, sniffing. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, Freckles. Sure. You just—maybe you just take a little drive for yourself, collect your thoughts.” Via paused, and then leaned a little to catch Elliot’s eyes; though her vision blurred from the threat of tears, the blonde still smiled a little. “You gonna be okay all by yourself?”

It was a strange question to ask, but Elliot knew what she meant. Are you safe? Alone?

“Yeah,” Ell replied in a thick, watery mumble. “I am.”

“Okay. Can you give me a call when you get home?”

She nodded weakly. Via pulled her into a hug, tight and gentle all at once, enough to make the dam break; just for a little, just for a minute, the tears streaked down her cheeks and caught up in the fabric of the scarf where it wadded against her jaw.

My God, what did you do?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, pulling back and sucking in a sharp little breath. “Um, I’m really—s-sorry—”

But Via shook her head firmly and brushed some of the hair back from Elliot’s face, wet from her tears. “Don’t apologize. Go get a little breather.”

She fished the keys out of Elliot’s pocket for her, putting them in her hand and hesitating.

“Promise you’ll call,” she reiterated.

Elliot nodded. “I—I promise.”

“Okay. No take-backs.”

“No take-backs.”

Via gave her another hug before ushering her towards the car. As she climbed in and turned the key, her hands shaking, she thought about the way her mother had looked at the scar—with disgust. Horror. Shame. Via hadn’t looked at her like that, when she’d seen it. She’d seemed embarrassed, at having put Elliot in such a position; but not like that. She hadn’t looked horrified.

John didn’t look at it like that. He’d spent a lot of time last night, tracing the shape of the scar with his eyes, with his mouth, reverent and adoring. Makes you hungry, doesn’t it?

At least leaving would be that much easier.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They came back separately.

When John heard the front door open, he’d been starting a pot of coffee in the kitchen. He poked his head around the archway to look out in the foyer, only to find Scarlet standing there, furiously unbuttoning her coat and dropping her gloves into the drawer. Two dress bags hung on the coat rack.

“Ell outside?” he asked casually, coming around.

“Certainly not,” Scarlet replied tartly. “She’s—”

And then the woman let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment—for the first time, Scarlet Honeysett looked to be composing herself, which he thought she was nearly incapable of losing sight of. It seemed even the impenetrable armor of the Honeysett matriarch had its own weaknesses after all.

His tiny little thrill at the sight of Scarlet looking troubled was short-lived, however, because she said, “My daughter walked into the boutique sporting this—wretched scar—”

Oh, he thought, suddenly.

“��never been so humiliated in my whole life—”

Oh, no, because he knew exactly what she was talking about and Elliot would be—

“—have no doubt, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet bit out viciously, “that scar is new and you have certainly not influenced her away from such activities.”

He needed to find Elliot. She would be distraught; why hadn’t she come home with her mother? And why wasn’t Scarlet more pressed concerning her daughter’s well-being?

“And where is she?” John asked, ignoring the stinging anger bubbling in his chest. Wretched scar, she’d said. Like it wasn’t beautiful. Like it wasn’t gorgeous. Like he hadn’t spent a whole night looking at it, running his hands and mouth over it, knowing that Elliot had looked at him and wanted it and trusted him and if there was something more devoted, it was carrying someone’s child. “Elliot? Where is she?”

“Taking a moment to regain her senses,” the blonde replied sharply. “She has vowed to be home soon. Mr. Seed—”

He had gone to reach for his coat, pausing at her words and looking at her expectantly.

Scarlet twisted the gloves in her hands for a moment, her brows pulling together.

“I just think,” she finally said, “that as her husband, you are responsible for her as much as I am. You have to be taking care of her when I’m not around.”

“I do,” he replied.

“Evidence says contrary,” Scarlet snapped. “She has come back to me with more—damage—”

The sound of a car pulling up outside snapped John’s attention elsewhere. He knew that if he stayed much longer in the conversation, they would be leaving sooner than what they had planned, if only because Scarlet wouldn’t tolerate him in the house for the things that he wanted to say to her. Damage, he wanted to say, that is only as bad as it is because it’s compounding on your incessant need to brush aside her problems like they’re nothing, like she didn’t need help then.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, pulling his coat on and opening the door. The rush of cold air bit at his face and hands; Boomer came rushing out around his legs, springing down the steps and hurrying to the driver’s side of the Honda. John was only vaguely aware of the door closing behind him—and it didn’t matter, anyway.

She didn’t open the door when Boomer got there, scrabbling at it for her eagerly. She kept her hands on the top of the steering wheel and pressed her forehead into it, the engine ticking as it cooled. When John got there, he reached for the door handle to tug it open. Elliot hit the lock button.

“Ell,” John said, “open the door.”

She lifted her head tiredly from the steering wheel. Where her hand sat over the lock button, her fingers trembled a little, and her face was flushed—not with health, but with the sickly red of feverish, panicked crying.

“Baby,” he tried again, a little more urgently, putting his hand on the glass of the window, “Boomer wants to see you.”

Elliot’s eyes were fixed on his jacket. “Would you—” She stopped, her voice muffled by the glass, and then she took a deep breath and said, “Would you even be here if I wasn’t pregnant?”

“What?” John blinked at her.

“If I didn’t have the baby,” she tried again, her voice thick and watery with unshed tears, that pouty lower lip trembling, “would you have even come for me?”

He stared at her. It had never occurred to him, that there might be a world in her head where he didn’t come for her, where he didn’t find her, where he didn’t try and bring her back.

“Of course I would,” John said, drawing her eyes to him. “I love you, Elliot.” And then, more urgently: “I love you, with or without the baby.”

She looked away from him, then, staring out the other side of the window, fingers curling uselessly against the steering wheel even as the keys lay in the passenger seat—like she wanted to run. Like she wanted to floor it, and go somewhere, anywhere.

“Open the door, Ell.” He swallowed thickly. “Won’t you?”

The door lock clicked. He tugged at the handle and it opened with ease, Boomer instantly shoving his face into Elliot’s side and whining, tail wagging so furiously his whole body moved with it. John pushed the door open the rest of the way and reached for her, and her hand caught his wrist and pulled, and she buried her face into his chest and trembled like a leaf in a breeze.

“I’m so tired,” she moaned miserably into his chest, hiccupping with grief, “I want to go home.”

John wrapped his arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head and keeping her tugged close.

“I know,” he said. “We’ll go. We will, I promise, Ell, okay?”

“Please—” The redhead pulled back to look at him. “I can’t—you can’t—lie to me, anymore—”

“I know,” John said again, a little helplessly, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. She was clutching him so tightly he was sure her nails would leave marks on his skin, even through the fabric of his clothes.

“I won’t.”

[feralnumberfive]

The Rewatch Academy: Episode 1 of Season 1

"We Only See Each Other At Weddings and Funerals”

I am in no way a good analyst so my little analysis and speculations probably sound a bit goofy or pretty wild and probably mean nothing at all. Everything I put into this post about each episode is purely what I noticed or thought, whether it's funny or serious. I will be making jokes, so please just leave it at that (in no way am I trying to make fun of an actor and or character!) I am also in no way saying I noticed this stuff first. This is just what I noticed while rewatching these episodes

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

1x01 | 1x02 | 1x03 | 1x04 |

☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂ ☂

☂️ In the Pilot script, it has a woman giving birth to a baby boy in Poland in 1984 (potentially Five or maybe even Luther??) 

☂️ “Picture Book” is an absolute bop and no one can tell me otherwise

☂️ What if someone saw this parade of carriages and noticed that there were seven? Later Reginald announces that he adopted 6 kids, so I wonder if anyone saw the carriages earlier and heard Reginald's announcement and became confused

☂️ The concert hall in the Pilot script is in New York, which I assume is safe to assume in NYC. The script also mentions later that Diego drops the monocle in the Hudson River

☂️ The Pilot script originally had Allison in LA, and Klaus in Amsterdam (which he was supposed to be levitating in that scene)

☂️ Diego was originally supposed to be pretty brutal and violent

☂️ I am a huge POTO fan so having a medley of the songs from the musical is so awesome to hear. The first time I watched this episode and heard the violin starting to play, I was like “Huh, this really sounds like POTO” and then I realized it was! It gave me chills and still does to this day overtime I watch this scene

☂️ The dark and mysterious tones of POTO really matches the vibes of TUA well. It’s just so good, especially as a way to introduce Vanya. The first song Vanya plays is “Phantom of the Opera” which is a nice symbolism when introducing the Hargreeves Siblings. The song itself is Christine discovering who her true Angel of Music is, a strange masked man that everyone knows well but they truly don’t know who he really is, like with the Umbrellas and their separate personalities and struggles as actual human beings and not just as the superheroes the public knows them as. It also plays while showing Diego, who is a mysterious masked figure at that point. 

☂️ “Angel of Music” is basically Christine asking her angel to guide her, which is ironic that it plays while Klaus is getting out of a place that guides him down the right path, knowing that he’s immediately going to go do drugs again and to go down the “wrong” path

☂️ I wonder if the voice in Luther’s spacesuit as he receives his message is an automated voice or his robot named “Ben” like in the comics. I doubt it’s the latter, but who knows

☂️ Okay, here’s another POTO thing. Diego picks up his knife and wipes the blood off of it and tells the family “Your family is safe now” right as the start of “Think of Me” plays. The first lyrics of the song are “Think of me, think of me fondly” which can be seen as Diego wants the family to truly view him as a hero that saved them

☂️ Aaaand here’s another! Again, while “Think of Me” is playing, one of the parts in the song where Raoul sings “Long ago, it seems so long ago, how young and innocent we were” plays while the paparazzi begins questioning Allison about her father and siblings

☂️ Okay okay, last POTO thing. I especially love that "Music of the Night" plays when Klaus wakes up in the ambulance at night. It's so awesome! Especially since the song is basically about giving into your darkest desires, which Klaus clearly did

 ☂️ Goddamn is the music in the show amazing, and I’m not just talking about all of the fun lyrical songs! Jeff Russo you get a thumbs up from me

☂️ Ta-da! Here’s some portraits that are shown of the siblings with Reginald when they were young that are shown in the show

☂️ Even the first person Vanya sees when she arrives home doesn’t greet her/welcome her back 

☂️ Emmy and Elliot really played that awkward hug and greeting between Allison and Vanya well. You can feel the awkward tension (hey sisters)

☂️ According to the pilot script, Diego wears his mask practically all the time like in the comics

☂️ Luther was literally supposed to have a gorilla body in the pilot script

☂️ “Oh, YoU gOt BiG, lUtHeR”

☂️ Godddd the song playing while Vanya looks at the books on the shelf in including her own is 👌

☂️ Ah, there’s a book called “Lunar Living”

☂️ It might just be me, but it seems like the light shining onto Five’s portrait is ever so slightly askew

☂️ Vanya leaving the lights on and sandwiches for Five reminds me of someone leaving food outside for a stray cat

☂️ Five was originally supposed to be gone for over 22 years in the pilot script

☂️ I wonder at what point in each of the siblings’ lives did they realize, or at least they thought, their brother wouldn’t be coming home 

☂️ Babies 

☂️ There’s so many ape and monkey pictures and diagrams around Reginald’s office. Foreshadowing for Luther?

☂️ I love Klaus’s theme. It’s heard in almost every episode https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EJa9H8SY4wQ&list=OLAK5uy_k2NJivpu0PIwxrOmPVrqN4umBZaahOGWI&index=6

☂️ Why does Reginald have two pictures of himself featuring aircraft? In one of them he’s outside a private jet and the other is him inside a cockpit

☂️ I must say that the dialogue in the pilot script definitely closely mirrors the dialogue of the comics 

☂️ “Told me I should be careful who to trust” 👀

☂️ Something behind Elliot is moving

☂️ I was hoping for this to be a gazelle of some sort above Five’s portrait, but It’s an Gemsbok. However, the Gemsbok is an antelope and all gazelles are antelopes

☂️ “The Walker” playing during the bank robbery scene is 👌👌

☂️ Luther is ready to throw hands

☂️ These robbers really decided to rob a bank at 10:05 am?

☂️ I just love Five popping out of nowhere criss-cross applesauce 

☂️ Something that hasn’t been explained/fully shown is Five’s ability to teleport objects. He teleported the gun out of the guy’s hand and replaced it with a stapler

☂️ Five’s teleportation noise reminds me of something going really fast, like an aircraft breaking the sound barrier. It’s almost like a mini sonic boom, but not as loud

☂️ Okay so I’ve noticed this in most of the episodes, but I don’t think when Five teleports he makes an actual noise. I’ll point this out more as we continue through the episodes. At the bank scene when Five is on the counter, it appears that the first time he teleports the bank robber whips around when Five speaks. The second time the robber turns to Five simply because he doesn’t know where he went and he’s searching for the threat

☂️ “That’s one badass stApler”

☂️ When Ben asks if he has to go into the Vault, he looks at Klaus for reassurance even though Luther is the one speaking to him

☂️ Five was still pretty cocky back in his youth. They, or more like Ben, have more bad guys to take care of and he’s just chilling with his hands in his pockets and leaning back/slouching like he’s bored. His tone with the robber also proves that and the way he just happily bounds out of the bank

☂️ Sir, why are you looking at the camera

☂️ Luther’s little wave to the reporters when the Umbrellas come out of the bank is cute

☂️ The pilot script didn’t include a flashback of a bank robbery, but instead to the Umbrellas training when they were younger. There’s too much to screenshot to I’ll summarize it.

-Luther bench-presses over 500 lbs

-Diego has been holding his breath for about six hours and he flips Reginald off

-Klaus levitates stuff

-Allison is slacking off and when Reginald tells her to continue her training she simply rumors him that she doesn’t have to

-Ben is fighting guards and Reginald calls him “Number Six” to which Vanya, who isn’t supposed to be down there, corrects him that his name is Ben and reminds Reginald that they have names

- Five very quickly and quite brutally rips off the heads and limbs of training dummies, snaps their necks, and stabs them. He is referred to as “A ruthless little war machine.” Reginald calls him “Perfect”

☂️ The pilot script implies that Reginald had alien life mounted on the walls of his office

☂️ There wasn’t a dance scene in the pilot script

☂️ Not to get super into detail about this, but Luther’s room is filled with a lots of models and paintings of aircraft, mainly from WWII. Almost all of them are of Allied aircraft, and more specifially Commonwealth aircraft, like the RCAF. So this could be more of a clue to the Umbrellas living in Canada

☂️ Diego giving that Wildebeest head the stink eye aways makes me laugh

☂️ Klaus is dancing with Reggie’s urn in a Waltz fashion, so maybe he’s just doing that or it’s the ballroom dancing lessons they received as children peeing through

☂️ I love Diego’s dancing skills

☂️ Fuck you Five for ruining their dance party

☂️ Honestly Five’s portal is pretty powerful. Here’s a description of it from the pilot script

☂️ I like that when Luther tells everyone to get behind him and Diego copies him with “Yeah, get behind us” Luther lets his brother use himself as a shield instead be pulling the “I’m the leader, I’m the strongest” card

☂️ When Luther and Diego are shielding their siblings, Diego has his arm stretched out to guard Vanya

☂️ In the pilot script Five’s body is smoking when he comes out of the portal

☂️ What if when Five fell out of the portal he got knocked out so he just laid face down on the ground unconscious aksdhfjsafhd

☂️ “So are we gonna talk about what just happened?” No bitch, let him make his sammie first

☂️ Diego and Klaus had some sort of bet on Five’s time traveling in the pilot script

☂️ Here’s another example of Five’s teleportation possibly not making noise. When he teleports around while his siblings are questioning him, it looks like they only look at him when he appears and not when they hear a noise

☂️ Five in the pilot script is actually 62

☂️ “What part of the future do you not understand?”

☂️ I like that Five styled his hair to the exact style it was when he was actually young, but eventually gets looser throughout the season

☂️ Five is so oddly calm when talking to Vanya in front of his portrait

☂️ “Well, there are worse things that can happen.” “You mean like what happened to Ben?” Yeah there’s also an apocalypse on the way lol

☂️ Five actually got a hug in the pilot script! 

☂️ An ironic moment from the pilot script considering that Five is an assassin and has killed tons of people but this siblings don’t know that

☂️ When Diego is talking about their names and numbers in the courtyard, Five sighs, which I’m sure he’s just bored/has better places to be and is annoyed, but I’d like to view it as “Shit, I don’t even have a name”

☂️ Funny tidbit from the pilot script during the funeral scene “Whatever the hell you are”

☂️ Diego talks about how he assumed Reginald sent Luther to the moon because he couldn’t stand the sight of him, so he must be talking about Luther being like a “failed” leader or something? Like he couldn’t keep the team/his siblings together? Diego doesn’t know about his ape-like body so he’s not thinking about that.....

☂️ I love that Klaus reaches his arm out to guard Five, and that Five simply glares at him and bats his arm away

☂️ When Luther broke Ben’s statue, I can just imagine Ben yelling at Klaus “Seriously? Klaus, why didn’t you stop them?”

☂️ So I’m sure this is just a continuation error, but you can’t see Five walking away in the shot of Ben’s statue hitting the ground. Considering that he had just left, he should still be visible in the background. Again, probably a continuation error or maybe he even teleported inside

☂️ A detail I love about Luther is that his fingernails are dark due to the gorilla DNA

☂️ The bank robbery scene in the pilot script is after the funeral. Not much was changed for the actual first episode, just a few different scenes. Also the Umbrellas were described as gods

☂️ Vanya drawing the tattoo on her wrist hurts my heart

☂️ “Together, you will stand against the reign of evil” gives me chills 

☂️ “This is your home and always will be” is great foreshadowing to S3, and hurts my heart when I think about how it is in fact no longer their home

☂️ When I first watched this episode and saw Pogo watching Vanya I knew something was pretty sus

☂️ Just some gold dialogue from the pilot script during the scene of Five, Allison, and Klaus in the kid area and Five is complaining about coffee (but in the pilot script everyone but Vanya is there)

☂️ “An entire square block. Forty-two bedrooms, 19 bathrooms” goddamn the Academy is HUGE. Also 42 is just one away from being 43 👀

☂️ “I know how to do everything.” Yeah, like survive an apocalypse and professionally kill people :]

☂️ I’ve pointed this out before, but the license plate on the car that Five takes to Griddy’s says HERMES, which is the license plate of his car in the comics

☂️ The exit sign in the background is only half lit up to where it says EX and if my memory serves me correctly that’s the door Vanya and Leonard enter the Academy through in episode 6

☂️ Diego telling Klaus to lean back is like “Ugh I don’t want him with me, but safety first”

☂️ I love that they added his feral chimpanzee smile from the pilot script into he show

☂️ “You won’t be going home.” Cocky smartass strikes again. Not to mention he smiles when he says that. He also says this to the men before he kills them in the pilot script

☂️ Before I even knew about TUA, I had heard of the “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” scene and looked it up. I remember thinking “Wow, that kid is scary.” Now I think “Wow, that old man is scary.”

☂️ I love the little salute he does before he blinks away, and the way his basically just plays with these men like a cat playing with its prey. He knows he’s going to kill them, but he wants to have fun doing so

☂️ Five had some fancy moves in the pilot script

☂️ Five teleporting his tie around the man’s neck is another example of him teleporting an object. Can we see more of this actually happen in S3 please?? I also love the fact that he takes it off the man’s body and puts it back on

☂️ The way he calmly, or tiredly, snaps the man’s neck is chilling to see from a child’s body. This was also included in the pilot script *chanting* Feral Five, Feral Five, Feral Fi-

☂️ It’s honestly such a cool and iconic scene on the show. It truly shows that Five is fully capable of handling himself, and is/was great at his job

☂️ Having the city at night in the background of Diego dropping the monocle is really pretty

☂️ I really like the way they revealed Ben. Having watched both season and now watching this scene again is a bit awkward when Ben doesn’t talk. He’s probably just tired of Klaus 

☂️ “The world ends in eight days, and I have no idea how to stop it.” This line combined with the music and the previous scene of Five in the apocalypse is powerful and chilling and I love it

☂️ I love that they have The Umbrella Academy theme playing during the credits in both seasons

-------

Feel free to comment or reblog with things you have noticed too!

[aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide]

Spoilers: Law & Order: Conviction (2006), Lead, Ripped, Venom, Fault, Informed, Infiltrated, Philadelphia, Florida, Screwed, Paternity, Inconceivable, Undercover, PTSD, Perverted

Trigger warnings: alcohol, references to death, casual sex, murder, pregnancy, childlessness, adoption, PTSD, nightmares, dissociation

Evocations: XIX

If there is only one thing to know, it is this: The woman who exited Witness Protection in 2006 was not the woman who had once been the sharpest Special Victims Unit ADA in New York.

The death of Valez and the extradition of Connors that had permitted her freedom from anonymity also left Alexandra with a life bitten ragged around the edges. Her relationship with her father was never the same; as grateful as he was that his daughter was alive and well, the knowledge that Darcie had gone to her grave thinking Alex was dead was a deep scar to bear.

Everywhere she looked, there was a life she had begun building and then abandoned like a child grown bored of a toy. In Wisconsin, there had been Greg, in her second placement, another man left behind like Alex was some mythical creature they outgrew as they slumbered.

Only men, however - never another woman. It was an edict that had written itself beneath Alex's skin, without deliberation or protest.

She returned to Manhattan without much thought as to whether it was the best idea. It was where she had started her career, so logically it was where she had a professional reputation; not many strings had to be pulled to get herself up and running again. Bureau Chief Cabot had a fine ring to it, even if she did have to supervise a group of newbies chomping at the proverbial bit.

But make no mistake - it was as far from SVU as Alex could get. The soft, hopeful blonde that had dreamed of a life with Olivia Benson, who had grown up privileged and hungry for everything she could get from the world was no more. The Alexandra who resettled in Manhattan was buttoned-up, distrustful, and in it for the win rather than the moral high ground.

The new Alexandra was a woman who used sex to satisfy her need for contact and not much more; who chose her relationships for ease of placement, not depth. When she got lonely she had flings, and when one of those flings turned into an engagement, Alex shrugged and kept up appearances.

She had been Bureau Chief a little over a year when the phone calls started coming. The number she didn't recognize, but the voice on the message had turned her insides into a hot, riotous mix of desire and anxiety.

"Uh hi . . . Alex. It's Li - Olivia. I'd heard you've been back, so I wanted to call and see if you . . . how things are going. Call me back . . . if you want, y'know. You can use this number. Bye."

Olivia's voice on that first message was hesitant, nervous, fumbling. Alex heard all of the unspoken questions holding space between the carefully chosen words: How long have you been avoiding me? Are you okay? Have you forgotten me? Alex let the message sit for a week before deleting it in a moment of weakness, locked in her office drinking bourbon and letting her fingers dance over the phone receiver in entertainment of the idea of calling Liv back.

The second message appeared about two weeks after that.

"Alex," it began, and the put-on confidence made the blonde wonder if Olivia was drinking that time, herself. "Please just give me a call and let me know you're okay. I'm not looking to impose myself on your life."

As cold as it seemed . . . as it probably was, Alexandra still didn't pick up the phone. The illusionary distance that was still between herself and Liv was the only barrier that held firm her new persona. The Alex who didn't want to feel, didn't want to get too close to anything - not people, jobs or cases.

Next it was Elliot who called. Alex had wondered if they were still sleeping together as she listened to Elliot's low voice skirt the boundary of anger and pleading. Had Olivia asked him to call, or had he called on his own after a couple months of watching Liv gaze hungrily at the phone?

Either way, Alex still wasn't swayed. Her career as Bureau Chief ADA plodded forward, and the only time she spoke with Olivia was in her dreams. Another year passed that way, with the calls coming less and less often. Alexandra ended her engagement along the way - an act of mercy, she told herself.

Then another year, until at last she had been out of Witness Protection for three. She couldn't have known that the next time the phone would ring, it would be Jack McCoy. He, too, was asking her to walk directly back into Olivia Benson's orbit - just not for the same reasons.

.

.

On the morning that Alex had left her for a second time, Olivia rose and for just the briefest moment thought that maybe things would be easier. She was quick to realize that, like a slip in quitting any addiction that consumes you, giving her up a second time would be even harder.

Liv put her heart into the work, and bit by bit, the year started to pass.

Then, on a cool evening in October, Olivia opened up her apartment door to find Elliot on the other side, eyes red-rimmed and temples pounding. Just hours before, he had attacked a man for abusing their son. She had no idea where El had disappeared to after that.

Liv hadn't yet had the need to seek out the weight and intensity of Elliot's body since her night with Alex. It had been at least seven months since they had slept together - but she secretly doubted it would ever make a difference. They fit together like two halves of a whole when it came to seeking out this sort of comfort. Soon, they were once again sleeping together as a means to dull the sharp edges of their pain.

The first year that Alexandra was back in Manhattan was such a whirlwind for Olivia that she couldn't have contacted her even if she had been aware of the ADA's presence. Right on the heels of discovering Finn's son had a half-brother that was a murderer, there was the Gitano case - the aftershocks of which were felt long into 2007.

"What about me?" she had murmured to Elliot, but it wasn't their falling into bed together she thought of - it was bigger than that.

She had already lost the love of her life twice over. Elliot was the only solid, steady thing left - the person she could trust, talk to or fuck easily, in equal measure. He kept Olivia anchored in a life where everything else seemed unmoored. If the threat was for that, too, to be taken away then Olivia would do it herself, and first: self-punishment as self-control.

In Oregon, sneaking around in the Hartnells' house, Liv wondered if Alex'd had as much trouble staying within the lines of her new life, back in Wisconsin. Perhaps Olivia was destined only for a singular life, no matter where else events lead her, because that singular life was right where she landed back in the city in 2007.

Right before she took off to Philadelphia, seeking out the brother that was no more than a DNA fingerprint, Liv had finally picked up the phone to call Alex - hoping, in part, that Alex would try to talk her out of it.

The phone never rang.

Philadelphia was a disaster.

Olivia's brother, a fugitive and maybe a rapist, was gone. She was drinking more frequently again, and rage-fucking her partner at every turn. Elliot's concern got him calling after the aloof blonde next, but she remained unmoved.

Summer began to bleed into Fall. Finn's nephew got away with murder, Liv's brother was innocent after all, and, after taking more than two years to sign his divorce papers, Elliot found himself back home with Kathy.

Not prime parent material.

The phrase went around and around in her head after the meeting with the adoption agency. After Olivia first absorbed the news that Kathy was pregnant, she had moved quickly from surprise, to confusion, to jealousy.

Two and a half years, she had fucked Elliot relentlessly, letting him fill her with abandon, no fear of consequence. Not once had they used so much as a condom, and yet Liv hadn't even had a period late enough to raise questions. One night, and Kathy had caught pregnant like it was a common cold.

Elliot Stabler Junior's birth was as inopportune as his conception. His mother lay in the hazy veil between living and dying, while Olivia clutched his tiny body between her own and a foil blanket. When the dust settled, Liv took stock of things - Alex's not calling, Elliot's readymade family, Simon's drama - and decided that it was time for her to build her own family.

But the dream had been short lived. As the agency had put it, she was not prime parent material.

"Any way you want to do it, I'll support you," Elliot had told her, but what could she say?

How could she tell him that she wished his accidental pregnancy had been hers? She would not invite him back into her bed while he was at home. So she forced herself to smother everything that Eli's birth had stirred in her, and turned back to the work to escape the pressing weight of her loneliness.

Perhaps, she told herself afterward, it had been for the best, as she spent the better part of 2008 struggling with PTSD that nobody knew existed. All through Summer and Fall, Olivia had soaked her sheets again and again with the nightmares that replayed Lowell Harris's face. She suffered the flashbacks, the dissociation, alone into November, when still just her therapy group knew.

That was, until she nearly blew Dominic Pruitt's head off. It was the alarming culmination of nine months that had seemed more full than usual of baby and pregnancy cases.

"I want you to take some personal time off," Cragen told her, and Liv listened - not because of the threat of noting her jacket, but because he was the closest she'd ever known to a father.

The elderly gentleman who met Olivia on the sidewalk in front of his tidy bungalow gave her exactly the look she expected. Grinning, she lowered her sunglasses at him.

"Thank you for meeting with me! She's gorgeous!"

'She' was a pristine black Mustang that sat at the curb looking like a misplaced relic out of a greaser's fantasy.

The owner shook hands with her politely, still eyeing her as though he was being played a fool. "That she is! Took better care of her than my wife these last 20 years." He sniffed and chortled, trailing off as he remembered Liv was also a woman.

But Olivia wasn't listening - already pacing the perimeter of the stationary car, eyes twinkling and her heart pounding, in a good way for once. Careful not to touch anything, she came as close as she dared, eyeing the windshield, the tires, lights, interior. Clean, shiny, perfectly intact - the Mustang was a dream; Liv nearly salivated at the perfection of it.

"You wanna take a look at th'engine?" the man broke into her appraisal.

"Can I?" Liv breathed, excited, and it seemed to settle the old man some.

He popped the hood and allowed her to gaze her fill. Like the rest of the vehicle, the engine was practically spit-shined to gleaming.

"Incredible," Liv praised.

"Mm. Lois says I gotta let'ter go, and accept the fact that I look like a perfect fool driving it nowadays."

"I'm sure that's not true."

"Nawp," he shook his head, rhyming the word with 'top,' "nawp, she's right - I just don't like admittin' it. So, if you like her, she's yours."

Olivia was struck with a sudden pang of guilt. "Are you sure you don't want to leave it to a grandchild instead?"

The man raised a furry eyebrow at the brunette's sudden reluctance. "Got no grandchildren to speak of, so . . . likely not," he shrugged at last.

Liv nodded, understanding better than he might've realized. She didn't have the wife she had thought she would, or a child she had imagined would complete the picture. What she did have was enough cash in her savings to purchase a house in the suburbs outright, and a craving to get away.

"Then I'd love to take care of her," she told him with a smile.

"C'mon inside then, and I'll sign the pinks. Don't mind Lois," he added, "she'll no doubt want to make you eat somethin' . . . " He kept chatting as he headed up the walk, and Olivia could feel her pulse fluttering in anticipatory delight as she followed.

Fifteen minutes later, when Liv touched the convertible for the first time, it felt like grabbing a live wire. She dropped into the driver's seat with the pink slip in one hand, the feel of the leather almost indecently slick.

The man stood grinning at her from the curb, then tossed her the keys in a high arc that Liv caught easily. "Where're you gonna take her?" he asked, and she knew he meant more than just where she lived.

The engine purred to life like a cat rising from a satisfying nap, and Liv slid her sunglasses back into place. "Somewhere nice and warm," she smiled. "What's her name?"

The man blushed like she had just unexpectedly flirted with him. "Oh. Well, uh - " he rubbed the back of his neck shyly, "you should call her whatever you want."

"Forty-four years is a long time to have a name. She deserves to keep it," Liv insisted.

He straightened and pushed back his shoulders. "I used to call her Miz Dolly," he confessed. "After Missus Parton."

Olivia patted the dash. "She'll be in good hands," she told him. "Come on, Dolly." She pulled away from the curb and was on her way, giving the old man one last honk as she headed out of the neighborhood.

All that was on her mind then was open road and places far from Manhattan Winter. She couldn't have known, then, that in just three months Alex would be making another appearance in her life.

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

You can read more about Law & Order: Conviction here if you are curious about how I worked canon into my timeline! - M

[sword-of-summer]

All of them answer every question fuck you

ahahaha no i respectfully deny your "fuck you" and i accept the ask and so-

i am 5'10", and i don't wish to be taller or shorter- i am the perfect height for hugs and messy hair, and yep, i like it here-

dream pet would be a mix of golden retriver and a husky called Holly and a chonky cat called Loki- yes ofcourse my future kids have names everyone should name their future pets-

ripped jeans/black pants with a Darth Vader tshirt or a Ethnic Fusion Kurta with black sneakers/artificial leather slip-ons, and if it's cold, a black jacket open obviously- and a black wristwatch i love my black wristwatch.

favourite video game was Clash of Clans and going even back, GTA Vice City and, the og- MARIIOOOO

three things/people are Oreos, Nutella and Pizza. The Holy Trinity-

"Beware me my fingers are smeared with chicken popcorn grease"

you didn't mention an opinion, @chunkybirb, so imma give my opinion on Vanilla ice cream and Nutella- ANYONE WHO HADN'T COMBINED THESE TWO COMBINE THESE TWO THEY ARE FUCKING AWESOME

im either phlegmatic or melancholic bruh idk maybe ik or maybe not

im v v v v ticklish

not an allergy, but an intense hatred for ketchup- i vomit if it gets too close to me fuck you ketchup

im heterosexual

any between tea and coffee but full milk coffee (ik, kill me), never had cocoa- but i love a chocolate or nutella milkshake

both. both is good. (cat and dog)

i would be an elf cause hell yeah, knowledge and wisdom

favourite youtuber is Samay Raina, a stand up comedian turned youtuber who is just awesome-

as i mentioned in 1., i am 5'10"

i would not change my name cause it's the coolest fucking name ever, i am Tanay, and Tanay in Hindi means Son, and my parents literally named their son Son, and hell yeah i like it

i forgot how much i weigh- last i checked it was 75 kilos, but ive gained weight since 2019 so yep, gotta walk in the mornings

yes i believe in metaphysicality cause one- it seems cool- second- me and @theclassyghost discussed a metaphysical life theory that i really really like and metaphysicality gives preservation of knowledge so i believe in spirits

SPACE. SPACE. SPACE.

im not that religious, no

pet peeves no well nah not really

nocturnal def nocturnal i sleep at 4.50 anyway hehehehe

fav constellation is Cassiopeia

fav star is Sirius tho

what the fuck are ball jointed dolls

i do have a fear of losing people that's just anxiety i guess

yep, global warming is real

never thought that much about reincarnation tbh but maybe, i do

fav movie is Spider Man : Into The SpiderVerse and Inception and The Dark Knight Rises and Revenge of The Sith and yes, for my indian gang, 3 Idiots and Gully Boy

yep i get scared v v v easily

i have had no pets but i plan to once i grow up

@chunkybirb 's blog is fucking cool awesome and *chef's kiss* a masterpiece

blue calms me. i love blue.

live in Norway cause pretty lights, snow, and less people than this overpopulated country i am in

born in Mumbai, India

v v v dark brown like it's almost black but no it's dark brown

introvert

horoscopes and zodiacs, i do read them, never believed that much tbh-

HUGS I LOVE HUGS

i really wanna visit my brother i haven't met him in a long time i really wanna play cricket w him just like old times

my sister- she's annoying but well i care for her

nah

tattoos idk bruh im okay idk may get one or may not get one

nope, smoking is ewwww *vomits*

ah my crush- she's cool [ if she exists

when the chalk doesn't write on the board but goes iiiiiieeee I HATE THAT

a sound i love is rain pitter pattering i just hhhhhh sends me into happiness

nope fatass here

nope fatass here

favourite actors have to be eddie redmayne, oscar issac and pedro pascal- and margot robbie and winona ryder in the actresses section also yes, elliot page

bruh already answered in 30.

im okayish!! spotify and tumblr, cool combo-

my hair are okay being black for me

yesterday, monday, from 6.40 to 6.50

music

uhhh naah not that i know of

well in Rick Riordan's Magnus Chase books, the sword of Frey aka Sumarbrander TALKS and demands to be called Jack, so here i am

bakwaas, music and comfy

yep, i believe in evolution

unfollow on hate and when they dm me sending nsfw pics ugh why are people like that

follow, well, i like people and they seem cool, so i follow them

fav kind of person is the one who'll sit with me for hours not even talking and just vibing to music

fav animals are beavers, doggos and cats

three fav blogs are @chunkybirb, @theclassyghost, @little-boats-on-a-lake, @aredhel-of-gondolin, @sue-me-imbadass, @alleenkaas, @my-ackerman, @brrrrrrrrrrzone

fav emoticon has to be ☹ this me seeing my stupidity outrank others

fav meme has to be Butternut is a master of psychological manipulation

INTP

Libraaa let's go

no dog, i have

black darth vader tshirt, black pants, black sneakers and black wrist watch

i have no selfies my phone has no cameras i live in eternal darkness

what the fuck are platform shoes

i, uhhh, i remember weird things like what i drew in class in 3rd while i was supposed to be doing english

lazy ass here, no front flips possible

i like birds they fly

nope i don't Iike swimming i like blankets

wrapped up in blankets reading books sounds better than both

ketchup

hyperspace travel

nope none

reading writing eating sleeping

my friend

tumblr seems cool

i have around 60-70 idk

yes i can run but why

yes they do but what's the fun in that

nope I'd fall over

sapphire let's go

koala bear or panda

sunflower or the one on a lemon tree

ketchup store

one cup of coffee is enough, tysm

read minds that sounds cool cool yeaaahh

nope never wore it a black clothes guy here BatMan

winter winter all year long

i don't know and i don't wanna try

i don't know and i don't wanna know

everyone cause they are better than me

bookstores cause bookstores any bookstores

sneakers, black onez

apparently some gas bitches mixed up to form a planet

non vegetarian but i partake meat just twice or thrice in two weeks

i don't know they don't seem like liking

naaaaaaaah

bugs ew

spiders ew

about the fact that i come off as arrogant and overconfident while in reality it's just that my communication skills suck

i can draw averagely whenever im in a mood

this thing im answering but i like answering it

uhhhhhhh brain freeze- idk bruh questions are good they give knowledge

yep, while sleeping

ahh yes calming, they are

cloudy days cause fucking cool vibes

hehehe wouldn't you like to know, weatherboy

CumuloNimbus i really like it's name yknow nimBUS

dark blue, dark blue always or black

naaaah no freckles

fav thing is when they laugh and it's just happy and we're both laughing like shitheads but who cares we're rebelling against depressing life and we laugh

both. both is good [ fruits and vegetables

sleep but i have to answer 170 questions cause @chunkybirb

sky sky sky it's my blog's header duh uh sKy

sweet and sour candy. SWEET AND SOUR CANDY.

dim lights it makes me feel cool

ahhh so here we go- Mooncalfs, Thunderbirds, Phoenixes, Sphinxes, Dragons that seem to be Space Nebulae, and more and more and more

i really feel like a boomer sometimes

i love everything about this site/app it makes me feel happy cause i like the people and the posts

uhhhhh i think too much about everything cause i just do. i like thinking

"He's dead, guys. For the sake of The Force, please watch Star Wars now he wanted to discuss it with you" actually no i would just say "A big shoutout to Garlic Bread he loved Garlic Bread"

myself cause i should be sleeping but sleep is for the weak and i am the weak and the strong i am a paradox-

that i obsess too much on things and try involving people it never works out

nope. had braces for 4 years, that beat out teeth showing smiles

i prefer computer-tv ahahahahaha

never tried them, so IDK

naaaaah not motion sickness- never travelled by sea so idk seasickness

lobed ears

yep i believe that deeds do count in life and beyond

idk bruh i don't believe in physical attraction too much- bodies are fake- mentally/metaphysically tho, im a 7

ahhhhh many many Stupid Genius, Tani, Tanu, Tanya

i still do-

i really want to talk to a therapist. converse. and discover.

im both, i am both.

10:1 is the ratio- giving 10, receiving 1

uhhh nothing just when i am right and people use the old "disrespect" argument

3, Hindi, Marathi, English

girls

uhh no i am not

my hair i love them everyone says things about my hair but i love them

knowledge vibes i give, someone tells me- and that's all i ever wanted

anyone i know tbh, my mutuals, my friends, my discord friends

ahhh no i wouldn't but i wish i was born 20 years earlier

bleh bloo, neither like nor dislike

i don't know if i have one

i don't know, haven't had physical contact in a long long long time in a galaxy far far away

the above point stands but i would like to ig

anything i write, 3 hours later, i instantly hate just idk why

anything i write

that i am normal no i am not and i am not okay hahahahaha

65-70 ish people

somewhere around-

many many many don't ask please but okay if you do ask

somewhat

uhhhhh idr exactly but i won't tell in public duh uh

mediummm hairrrr

last year lockdown i became harry potter

i don't know buddy i seriously don't know

yep i do cause knowledge i like knowledge

naaah never tried

no i definitely cannot stand on my hands or my head for more than 30 seconds

yep, im pretty sure i answered most of them correctly-

og link-

[benisasoftboi]

Unorganised thoughts on Trails of Cold Steel IV:

WHY ARE THEY CALLED CLASS VII?

WHO ARE CLASS VI?

Anyway - I started playing Trails in August, and I’ve finally, finally caught up (yes I know Hajimari I can’t read Japanese) and like... what do I do now?

It’s a fantastic series and I’m so, so glad I picked up Trails in the Sky on a whim last summer

This game was long. Is it longer than the other ones? It felt that way

The best part was the first chapter because Rean wasn’t in it and yeah I still don’t like him!!! But seriously, it was astonishing how much more I was enjoying things without him

I audibly groaned when goddamn bonding points returned in the second chapter

Actually that was a lie, the best part was Any Time My Angel Estelle Was On Screen

I missed her so much

I let her get the final hit of the game against the boss because she’s the best

Speaking of angels I caught three Wazy cameos!!!

Also Gilbert came back and if there had been a camera on me... I quite literally teared up a little I was so thrilled

I hate the curse it is dumb and rips all the nuance out of the characters. People do not need a goddamn evil curse to be swayed to extremes by overzealous nationalism. Trails I know you are better than this, I played Sky and Crossbell

Fav new location was Milsante (liked Alster too, though). I really like going to tiny little outposts and villages in JRPGs, they make the world feel more real

What the hell was up with the Osgiliath Basin? As in, Giliath Osborne??? Is this going to be a Hajimari thing?

Oh yeah, HOT TAKE, Alan Richard >>> Giliath Osborne. I was reading an LP of Sky FC while playing the game, and Richard’s motivation is clearer and less over-complex, more sympathetic, and he’s just generally a far more human character

Alan Richard best political antagonist in the series fight me (Rufus Albarea distant second)

For best supernatural/cult-y antagonist I’m stuck between Weissmann and Joachim. Or maybe Campanella lol

Oh uh speaking of characters named Georg I will never not hate everything about the George and Angie subplot. Angie should have died and George should have stayed evil, or it shouldn’t have happened at all. As it is, it was a complete waste of time - you could take it all out and NOTHING would change

Angie would have been the perfect character to sacrifice as well, she’s just important enough that it would feel like ‘oh shit’s getting real’ but not so important that it’s unbelievable

(like Olivier. I could not fully believe they’d actually kill him, and the moment Laura told me ‘they never found the bodies’ I was like, oh, so they’re definitely all still alive, cool)

I mean, it would be a Bury Your Gays, but honestly... there are things I like about Angie, but is anyone really looking to her as a lesbian role model? I hope not. Yikes

So yeah I guess I hate George now for getting my hopes up and then being boring. Shame

I did the Towa romantic ending, of course. I genuinely think she’s the best match for Rean, of all his love interests

Chaaaracters

Rean: Still the least interesting person. Not a good sign when I’m sadder about the robot dying than the main protagonist yeeting himself into the sun (side note, the two endings thing? Unnecessary and dumb). There is no reason girls would like him this much, blah blah I’ve said it all before. Liked his new hair. Honestly would have respected it if they’d had the balls to kill him off. I basically never even used him in battle lol, Juna became my new team leader

Juna: Honourary protagonist imo. I’ve changed my mind since CS3, she’s my fav new Class VII without a doubt. She’s just really good and full of personality and depth and OH GOD WHY IS SHE CRUSHING ON REAN WHY FALCOM WHY

Kurt: pls falcom don’t try to force this aroace king into a nonsense ship with Sully I liked her but what are you doing, anyway Kurt is great and he got cool new swords and he got to hang out with Mueller, who I adore, I love Kurt

Altina: I also love this little bunny. Her relationship with Millium is so lovely and seeing her grow and become her own person made me so happy and OH GOD WHY IS SHE CRUSHING ON REAN WHY FALCOM I LITERALLY SAID SHE HAS THE BEST RELATIONSHIP WITH REAN OF ALL THE GIRLS BECAUSE SHE DOESN’T DO THAT IN THE LAST GAME WHY DO YOU HATE ME????

Musse: Yeah I’m still not sold on Musse but I liked her better this time! I like a smart, confident girl! Just stop being weird about your teacher and we’d be golden!

Ash: Good boy. Sweet boy. Ash and Joshua game now Falcom

Alisa: Still cannot believe she’s presented as the deuteragonist by the marketing - but you know what? Solid arc, she got some closure with her parents, maybe she and Jusis can get together for tea and complain about their messed up families. She’s never going to be a character I like all that much, but I don’t dislike her. I just wish she hadn’t clearly been written as ‘Rean’s love interest’ before anything else

Elliot: I love Elliot, I really do. I mean, I wish he hadn’t been flanderised to the point of speaking in music puns half the time, but he’s a solid, consistently pleasant character

Laura: Goddamnit Falcom please give Laura anything resembling an emotion regarding her dad dying. Also you tell me she’s kind of oblivious and stuff but we never see it. I like Laura but she really could have been more

Machias: I love Machias, fight me fan base. He’s so funny to me. It feels like, at this point, all he really wants is a nice office job, near a nice coffee shop, where he files papers and sometimes gets to yell at corrupt rich people, but NO, he has to run about in dungeons and fight monsters, and are you FUCKING kidding me, ANOTHER crazy snake cultist!?!? It’s great, he’s the only one who’s just done with it all and love it

I low key headcanon that he and Jusis are kinda dating at this point, but we don’t see anything because the games are from Rean’s POV and they don’t want to tell him because they know he’d be weird about it

Jusis: I still really like Jusis! He’s interesting, and his surrogate brother-sister relationship with Millium is so sweet (yes, I saw that bouquet catch, Falcom, and I hate it, stop it, gross). Awesome to see him confront his brother, obviously I let him have the final blow. Rufus was a great antagonist. Jusis has some of the best development over the games, and is also really fun to use in battle (apparently I am the only one who feels this way though :/ ah well)

Fie: I was surprised by how much I liked Fie’s confession scene, seeing as I don’t like Rean/Fie at ALL. Fie finally gets to have feelings about her dad, and we see her working with Zin at the end! Very happy for Fie, best girl

Emma: Ahhh I still find Emma kinda dull and exposition heavy, but she also had a nice arc, I liked her relationship with Rose, all good

Rose beat me at Vantage Masters for 40 minutes lol

Gaius: It’s still extremely funny to me that Gaius became one of the most important people on the continent *off screen*. And he still doesn’t really do anything. He has his own airship now, I guess. Justice for Gaius

Sara: Kind of faded from relevance after CS1, but I do really like her all the same. And I loved her speech at the end

Crow: At the end his hair got darker and everyone was like ‘you’re back to normal!’ and I literally did not realise he was meant to have been looking different

But anyway Crow is a really good character and I literally never didn’t enjoy him. I love the bit where Jusis and Machias team up to call him a cringy edgelord, because they are right. Crow is fantastic

Towa: Towa has never done anything wrong in her life and all of Erebonia should pay for her therapy

Patrick: I cannot believe how much I love Patrick now, compared to CS1. He’s just such a sweetie. Good boy

Elise: Take her to the sun with you, Rean. Pointless character

Alfin: Is she the heir now? I hope so. She’s such a funny character, not my fav, but I enjoyed her

Angie and George: Should have died, moving on

Celine: I love her, but did she really need a human form? No, no she did not. Great character though

Tita: Special mention, because you know what? I do not like this version of Tita! Like I said, I was reading FC recently and she was so much better there! Now a third of her lines are just her saying ‘Agate’ in various different tones. And it feels like she’s lost a lot of her confidence, where’s the little girl who followed us up Carnelia Tower? I would have preferred them to just not bring her back at all

Duvalie: Haha I love Duvalie she’s great. Stop implying that she’s crushing on Rean. Literally WHY would she. Ugh

Rose: Everything about Rose is great, I would play a full game about her backstory. More Rose

Ships!

Obviously I like Machias/Jusis because I am BASIC

I didn’t like Olivier/Schera back in Sky, but you know what? They sold me. It’s cute (even if I feel Schera’s character was neglected in favour of Being A Love Interest, sigh). Though I’m not sure when Olivier made the switch from ‘Schera is one of many people I flirt with’ to ‘Schera is my one and only’?

But am I the only person who’s kinda on the Oliver/Schera/Mueller train? I’m not normally into OT3s, but Olivier and Mueller have one of the best dynamics in the series, and Schera and Mueller would probably get along great if they were ever allowed to properly interact. And you know Olivier would be down

Like I say, I do not like Jusis/Millium at all, it’s not a ‘I like another ship better’ thing, it just massively skeeves me out because of the maturity difference 

Ash/Tatiana was unexpected but adorable

Patrick/Elise, because I want Patrick to be happy and Rean to be mad

Also Elise/Alfin, sorry Patrick

I hope Anton and Sharon really do get together. Sharon deserves unconditional love and Anton deserves a happy ending

Sharon also deserves to hook up with Sara like once

I also sort of feel like Sara/Claire would be fun

I’ve actually like Gaius/Linde from CS1, I’m happy it’s kind of a thing now!

If Lila/Maybelle is the LET’S GO LESBIANS Trails ship, then Emily/Theresia is LET’S GO BABY LESBIANS

Vincent/Margarita. They’re both horrible people. At least this way no one else has to deal with them

Joining my Kloe/Josette in the ‘crack ships I love that have very, very little canon basis’ is Fritz/Kairi, based on their interactions in that one mission and then that they’re eating together at Mishelam. It’s pretty much just a height differences thing, lol

Miles/Elnan. I have literally no justification for this

Other stuff There was this one scene where Gaius says how nice it is that Mueller cares about Olivier and Mueller just snaps his head round and the scene ends, and I don’t think it was meant to be funny but I laughed for like a full minute

The intro to the music at Mishelam is extremely creepy to me

I love the Pom Party mini game a whole lot

There were... a lot of typos in the second half of the script. It’s massive, so I’m not mad, but I hope there’s a patch at some point

BERYL BERYL BERYL BERYL BERYL I love her

Uh if we’re still doing romance next arc please give us a gay option, no Crow did not count

I hate divine knight battles! I really do! That last one against Ishmelga was really hard and not in a fun way! In a ‘this is bullshit fake difficulty’ way. Please don’t bring them back!

The true final battle, though? FANTASTIC, now THAT is a final boss! One of the best in the series, like that’s such a fun gimmick!

I got it trapped in break state and spammed Heaven’s Kiss/Quick Star, because I’m a strategic gamer 

I am embarrassed by how long it took me to recognise Lucy

KLOE CAMEO!!!

Oh and I assume Kaela is going to be important next arc, since it’s in Calvard?

I love Thomas??? And Rosine???

Why was the grandmaster reveal hidden behind watching the ending twice, why do that? Great scene, though

My theory is that she is Aidios, I will cling to this for as long as possible

I probably have like a million other things to say that I’m just not remembering right now. Look forward to random shouts into the void about it in upcoming weeks, followers

I really enjoyed this overall, despite the problems I mentioned above. It was just fun, I like the cast, the gameplay is great... just a solid game

Trails is a really fantastic franchise - not perfect, but what is? I’ve had such a fun time with it over the past half-year, and I cannot wait to see what happens next. Thank you, Falcom, the localisation team, the VAs - stellar job all around

This is normally where I’d end on a joke but like. Nah, I’m just happy. Cue ‘The Whereabouts of Light’