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anxiety-pickle · 1 month

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TUA and the horrible no good very bad apocolypse

Watching the decline of writing from season 1 to season 3 had already cued me into the fact that season 4 would be, objectively, a poorly written mess littered with plot holes, character inconsistencies, and confusing/poorly-established lore. But, at least, I figured it would be campy. Fun. We’d get a catchy soundtrack and a cheesy little family bonding moment, actualizing the themes that have been present since season 1, and some fun edits of Five killing people. Instead we got…. Petty drama, irrelevant B-plots, whatever was going on in that subway, the continuous undermining of Klaus’ character, a lack of catharsis, and… an apocalypse that turned into the exact antithesis of what it was established to be (narratively and otherwise) in season 1.

Season 1, objectively speaking, is the best written: borrowing the premise from the comics, it has the most material to work with and the most leeway for establishing character beats, tone, and setting up expectations for their audience. The storyteller is expected to STAY CONSISTENT with all of these things, or else the story loses emotional appeal. Why would you remain invested in a character who you can’t even define? This season is my favorite because of just how intertwined and water-tight everything is. Right from the beginning, character relationships are established, along with the REASON for these relationships: the siblings are estranged because of the abuse they suffered at the hands of their father; Luther and Allison have a strange tension that comes with being forced into narrow and isolating circumstances; Luther and Diego argue over their position on the team, or rather, their father’s approval; Five, suspended in space and time, understands the incredulity of Klaus’ circumstances which establishes a baseline for their mutual understanding; Viktor is isolated from everyone on the team because he was isolated from them by their father. There is all an identifiable, obvious cause for their behaviors and character quirks. The abuse they suffered is, in some ways, indistinguishable from their development; all of them struggle to function in normal society, and this is a point that is repeatedly hammered down. Allison struggles with her ex-husband and her child; Viktor stumbles through his relationships and ends up falling into another cycle of abuse with Leonard; Klaus is addicted to drugs. And this is all painfully, painfully relevant to the elephant in the room:

The apocalypse.

My favorite storytelling device, what have they done to you. From the beginning, it lurks in the shadows of the plot, a constant threat to us viewers and Five - the only two who know the severity of the situation. It is, I imagine, quite like the anxiety of an overbearing father waiting around the corner, dealing out cruel punishment. The end of the world is vague and unknowable. We don’t know what causes it or how to stop it: only that it will destroy us all. It serves to raise the stakes of the story; but what separates the apocalypse in TUA is the reason that it happens. The end of the world comes about, quite simply, because a selfish man abused his children. This is INTEGRAL to the apocalypse story-line. The apocalypse being a result of the abuse suffered by the umbrella academy is the perfect intersection of all the character’s storylines. It combines Allison’s eagerness to rely on her powers the way she’s always been taught, even at the expense of other people, with the isolation and gaslighting and apathy leveled towards Viktor, and their father’s mysterious death, and Five’s reappearance in the timeline. The common denominator here isn’t Viktor, it’s Reginald Hargreeves. At the end of the day, the apocalypse doesn’t happen because it’s unstoppable. It doesn’t happen because it’s a force of nature, or because that it’s ‘fated’. It isn’t vague and unknowable or otherworldly. It happens because Viktor makes a choice. He didn’t have to do what he did; he was hurting and traumatized and overwhelmed with the magnitude of his powers, obviously, but he ends up perpetuating the violence done towards him. The apocalypse happens because a man was selfish. It is entirely preventable, and incredibly unfair, which is what abuse is. Reginald Hargreeves the father of child abuse and crimes against women did not HAVE to do any of that, but the consequences of his continuous decision to inflict harm against his children are what eventually cause the world to end, with powers that he (presumably, at this point) has something to do with. Narratively, the apocalypse represents a system of abuse which perpetuates itself. It seems unstoppable. It seems like it never ends. It seems like Viktor is “always the bomb.”

But I think we should remember that this is also said by Five who, at this point in the story, has every right to be frustrated by his siblings being morons. His brother almost ends the world twice, and that hopelessness is very understandable. This does not, however, make this an objective statement. I don’t think Viktor is “always the bomb” because there’s something fundamentally different about the abuse he suffered, or because there is something inherently ‘wrong’ with his character (wouldn’t that be interesting. Wouldn’t that be a totally not contradictory totally not poorly thought out totally not poorly executed plot point. Being born inherently wrong. That would be crazy right) but because he’s the only one with the ability to do that. The specifics of his circumstances lend themselves to violent outbursts. Suffering is cyclical, and the past is just waiting around the corner for you to slip up. The apocalypse is always there, waiting, because of a choice Reginald Hargreeves made thirty years ago.

By season 2, we had practically abandoned the interpersonal relationships the siblings had with each other (said by a person who enjoyed season 2 generally). Viktor completely forgets everything, erasing all of the character growth he’s gotten up to that moment. Five spends the entire season in a panic-stricken frenzy trying to get his family home, but his efforts go (again) acknowledged (just like the apocalypse trauma that they no longer care about). Allison gained the most from this season, which unfortunately tied a lot of her character to a very specific point in the story to people who are not main characters. They’re all separated, estranged, again. And it’s starting to get a little tired. But, of course, that’s how living is. Frustrating and tiring. The problem is they never address this estrangement, they don’t come to any meaningful conclusions, they don’t improve their relationships. They just keep piling character plots and trauma and then addressing none of it. And this time… the apocalypse is less appealing. It has nothing to do with the way the characters feel, or how their past is intersecting with their present. It feels less like a haunting than it does a… plot device, conveniently in place to force the story forward. The story had lost a lot of its emotional appeal because it literally did not give me time or space to process the emotions that were there, and the narrative was now no longer directly tied to the main motivations of those characters. Now, we muddy the waters: the apocalypse happens because at a certain important time in history the American government finds Viktor and the cold war is happening and you’ve kind of lost me. This apocalypse means nothing to me. Five doesn’t even react to it, while in season 1 he was having full-blown panic attacks. Sure, Five is still flighty and paranoid and violent and neurotic, but most of these traits stay surface level and unexplored; and when the emotions and relationships of the characters bears the burden of the narrative, that is… not ideal. It weakens the stakes.

Season 3 was generally agreed upon to be a mess. Which it was. There were moments I enjoyed, but I lacked the emotional investment from season 1 because the emotional investment just wasn’t paying off. They set my expectations for the characters to have plots which resolve their conflicts and then drop them, forget about them, change their characters so those plots no longer matter. And this, too, is reflected by the apocalypse we get, and the solution. Personally I didn’t enjoy the ending of S3, but there was a LOT they could have done with that concept. Showing how they adjusted to having their powers taken, when their powers are they reason they exist, when their powers are the reason that they were taken by Reginald, when they’re intimately tied with their personalities and experiences and livelihoods. We could have had discussions about what the implications of this fairy tale dream world are. The world is your sandpit or whatever. Instead we got…. Season 4.

The apocalypse is back on. Again. It looks a little different this time. I do not care. The weight of the apocalypse has changed. It no longer represents the suffering of their family, and the possibility of perpetuating that trauma, but a “big evil world ending threat” that has lost all of its narrative meaning. The characters don’t even care that the world is ending - why should I? The story doesn’t have the characters finding meaning in the face of their hopelessness. They don’t even fight it. I watched six episodes of the most absurd, unpleasantly miserable episodes of this… for what? For them to die at the end because of something inherent to them? The apocalypse happens regardless of how they try to change, regardless of their efforts, regardless of the way they’ve scratched and clawed and fought their way through life?

And then it’s framed as a good thing and not a tragedy? And REGINALD FUCKING HARGREEVES gets to live? The one responsible for all of it? Narratively, he gets to live happily ever after with his wife who I also do not give a fuck about, while the people he victimized take the blame for his actions? That’s the message we’re sending here? Maybe if this was framed as like. Hey isn’t this fucked up. Instead we get the One True Paradise timeline and it’s just like. Oh my god. What the fuck was that. And nobody even remembers them. Nobody reconciled. Nobody finished their character arcs. Nobody got catharsis. I didn’t get catharsis. Why would you write that?? Why would you write that????

Anyways kids always remember: you were traumatized for the crime of existing and you should actually just kill yourself because the world will be a better place without you in it !!!

#tua #tua season 4 #tua season 4 spoilers #what was even the point of that.#if you were just gonna retcon everything #I just. switching the framing from the apocalypse being the consequence of good ol Reggie being a bitch and the lasting consequences #to it being about how they're inherently flawed and that existence is better off without them #all that struggling. all that fighting. it was all for nothing #and i'm supposed to think that was some heroic sacrifice #every day I wake up

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rosie-b · 2 years

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Delicious Delirium

The sequel to A Catching Sickness

Adrien Agreste was delirious. He had to be, because there was no way that Ladybug, savior of Paris and love of his life, was standing anxiously at his bedside, looking down at him with a concerned expression.

You can read the full fic below or on AO3 (provided it stays up!)

Pity, too, because she looked absolutely gorgeous right now, and Adrien wished he could tell her that, but if he tried to, he’d end up talking to thin air and making a fool out of himself in front of Plagg again.

Adrien took a breath in through his mouth and screwed up his face. That’s right, he remembered, I caught some sort of illness from... something. I have a fever, and that’s why I’m seeing Ladybug in my room right now.

Satisfied with this explanation, Adrien tried to remember how long it had been since he took ill. Was it one hour, or one day? He tried to think of what had happened after he came back from a late-evening patrol yesterday and decided to ask his father to let him stay at home in the morning.

Aside from the knowledge that he’d talked to his father about being sick, Adrien had a blurry memory of a doctor checking up on him, although he couldn’t figure out whether it was at the office or somewhere else. It had looked suspiciously nice for a doctor’s office, so it was probably the latter option. He might have needed a shot, because there were several bandages decorated with little Ladybugs on his arm. On both arms. Adrien wondered how that had happened. Usually, all the shots went in one arm, and he’d never gotten this many at once before.

Struggling to remember more of what had happened in between the start of his fever and when he woke up, Adrien closed his eyes, even though Hallucination-bug looked slightly disappointed by that as his lashes slowly closed, reluctant to lose the vision in front of him.

As a new memory flashed across his mind, Adrien’s brow wrinkled. His father had been sitting by his bed, if that wasn’t just another fever-fueled hallucination. He’d talked to him, too, something about Monarch and Chat Noir.

Chat Noir, Adrien thought drowsily. If this fever killed Adrien, then who would tell Ladybug what happened to her partner? Maybe I should write a will, with special instructions about my ring, Adrien thought. It should go to someone who would always do their best to keep Ladybug safe. Someone protective... Hey, my father is protective! I should give it to him. Adrien chuckled at the thought of his lady coming face-to-face with a grumpy cat-eared Gabriel Agreste, who’d explain that his foolish son had gone and contracted some peasant’s disease and then had the audacity to die from it. Her face would screw up, and—

Adrien decided that he wanted to think of something else. His conversation with his father, maybe.

Adrien didn’t remember much of it, just that they’d gotten into an argument about why Mr. Pigeon was akumatized so many times. Adrien thought that Monarch had a secret affair with the man, while his father was very firm in expressing his opinion that Monarch did not really mean to send so many akumas to Mr. Ramier. It was just that his negative emotions were so strong that no nearby akuma could resist them, and Monarch would never have akumatized Mr. Pigeon so many times if he’d known that Chat Noir was allergic to feathers before. Father seemed to think that Monarch had decided never to akumatize Mr. Ramier again!

That was silly, because then how would Monarch continue to woo his lover?

Turning onto his left side, Adrien slipped a hand under his pillow. It hit a squishy lump of cheese, and Adrien grumbled unhappily. When he woke up for real, he would have to confront Plagg. Under the pillow was not a good place for his smelly piece of camembert!

Moving his hand out from under the pillow, Adrien cracked one eye open to see how covered in goop his hand was. If the damage wasn’t too bad, he could wipe the cheese off on the bed sheets and go back to sleep, but if not, then he might have to get up and wash it off. I don’t think I can do that right now, Adrien thought dismally.

Suddenly, a red-and-black spotted hand moved into Adrien’s line of sight.

“Here, let me help you with that,” a familiar voice said. Taking a cloth from a table that had been moved beside Adrien’s bed, Ladybug carefully wiped the fever-warmed cheese off his hand, shooting a glare at Plagg, who was curled up on top of Adrien’s hair.

“I thought I told you that Adrien wouldn’t appreciate having cheese stuffed under his pillow,” she said reproachfully.

The little cat swished his tail, tickling Adrien’s neck. “And I thought I told you,” he said lazily, “That lover-boy can’t even smell right now, so he can’t complain. And camembert is the best cure-all I know. Now he’ll get better sooner! You should be thanking me.”

Ladybug rolled her eyes. Adrien, who was looking up at her now with an awed look in his green eyes, moved his lips like he was asking a question. Nothing came out though, and he coughed once and tried again.

“Ladybug?” His scratchy voice managed to get all the sounds in her name right, but when his father — who was Monarch! — had still been there, he had butchered his pronunciation of ‘father.’ This must be proof that he was getting better! A bright smile lit up Ladybug’s face.

“Hi, chaton,” she said softly. “How are you feeling?”

Adrien could only continue to stare at the angelic vision in his room. “Ladybug,” he sighed, and a beatific smile spread over his face. “Ladybug,” he repeated in a warm whisper.

Ladybug’s face was redder than Adrien’s nose. “That’s me,” she said, her voice deciding to crack midway through the sentence.

“I love you,” Adrien murmured sleepily. He grabbed her hand, which was still hovering over his, and pulled it closer to him, shifting in bed to lie on his stomach. “You’re so smart, and strong, and talented, and beautiful, and—” Adrien continued to list complimentary adjectives in an increasingly difficult-to-understand voice as his pillow muffled his words.

Overbalanced by the weak tug on her arm, Ladybug teetered near the edge of his bed. “Chaton,” she said warningly. “I don’t think now is the best time for kitty cuddles!”

“A’ways goo’ time for cuddles,” Adrien insisted into the pillow. He pulled Ladybug’s hand under his chest, to rest over his thumping heart.

Ladybug tumbled onto the bed, catching herself before she fell on top of Adrien and squished her kitty’s delicate lungs.

“Adrien,” she protested, “You have to let go; you’re going to make me sick, too, if I stay here!”

Jutting out his lower lip in a pout, Adrien reluctantly released Ladybug’s hand from its awkward position.

Sighing, Adrien rolled over again, twisting the covers and sending Plagg off of his perch for the umpteenth time.

“I knew it had to be a dream,” he sighed with as much drama as his challenged lungs could allow for.

“What?” Ladybug asked as she maneuvered herself off of the bed without falling on top of Adrien.

“You called me Adrien,” he said regretfully. His ‘M’s sounded like ‘B’s. “And in real life, you don’t know who I am. So the only reason you would be here, and call me—” he paused to take a breath. “—Call me both chaton and Adrien is that I’m dreaming. Fever dreams are weird sometimes,” he said sagely. “One time, I had a dream that the Gorilla turned into a horse, and that doesn’t even make sense because he should have been a gorilla. And this time, I’ve been dreaming of you and Dad. Only in my dream, he found out that I was Chat Noir, because I was still transformed when I asked if I could stay home from school.” Adrien let out a breathless laugh at the idea that this could ever happen.

Ladybug’s lips stretched into a too-thin smile, and she laughed nervously in turn. “Eh-heh. Yep, that definitely did not happen, nope, no way!”

Launching into a flurry of action, Ladybug pulled the twisted covers out from under Adrien’s stomach and fixed them, tucking him in securely. Then she reached under his pillow, plucked out the wedge of camembert even when Plagg hissed at her, threw it out, and wiped her hands off on her suit. Making a face, she grabbed the wet cloth again and scrubbed furiously at the goo staining her red suit white.

“At least detransforming will take it out,” she muttered.

Adrien stared at her with bleary eyes. Yawning, he stretched his arms over his head, pulling the covers out of place and shivering as the cold hit his bare arms.

“You’re so pretty when you’re in control,” Adrien murmured sleepily.

Ladybug choked and tripped over the table legs, flailing her arms wildly as she tried to catch herself and the bowl of warm water that was already splashing onto the box of tissues.

“Hurk,” she said as she locked her eyes with Adrien’s.

“Like when you figure out a Lucky Charm,” Adrien continued after another long, deep breath. “Or when you’re taking care of someone. I like it best when it’s me,” he admitted with a sideways grin.

Ladybug tried not to swallow her own tongue. “Urgh,” she replied intelligently.

Adrien only smiled. “So pretty,” he murmured happily.

Turning onto his side, Adrien frowned. “I can’t get comfy,” he complained to Hallucination-bug. “I’m too hot and too cold. You’re just too hot.” He giggled when Hallucibug flushed redder than her suit.

Ladybug stood up, slamming the bowl of water down on the table and not caring when it spilled. “That’s it!” she whisper-yelled, crossing her arms over her chest. “I don’t care if you’re lucid enough to carry on a conversation, what you need right now is more sleep! I’ll just have to tell Mon— your father that you’re still sick, and make some get-well soup to make your fever finally break!

“Look,” she said in clear exhaustion, “When you wake up, I’ll still be here. Hopefully. And if not, then I’ll come visit you again as soon as I can! There is a very important conversation that we need to have, but we can’t have it until you realize that you’re not dreaming. So for now, what I need you to do for me, mon pauvre chaton, is rest and drink lots of fluids and not get any sicker! Okay?”

Ladybug’s question was answered with a snore.

Startled, she blinked. At some point during her speech, Adrien had rolled over again and closed his eyes, holding his hands close to the warmth of his chest. From his perch on top of Adrien’s left ear, Plagg smiled a toothy smile at Ladybug.

“Shh,” he said quietly. “You don’t want to wake my kitten up.”

Ladybug’s heart melted as she looked down at her sleepy partner.

“I won’t,” she said, lightly brushing a stray lock of golden hair out of Adrien’s eyes.

Bending down over the bed, Ladybug pressed a kiss to Adrien’s still-warm forehead, and scratched behind Plagg’s ears as she backed away slowly.

“My poor kitty,” she whispered sadly. “Sleep as long as you need to, and have sweet dreams! When you wake up, the world will make even less sense, I’m afraid.”

As her bugphone buzzed against her hip, Ladybug turned to leave the room and picked up the call from the police department.

“Hello, Chief,” she said. There was a pause, and then: “That’s right, sir. Monarch has surrendered.”

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