#which was followed up by the Hulk’s perspective where he could understand the tone of her voice and so her overall positive intention

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #246

[strawberrysoup]

Pocketful of Posies || Chapter 5

You’d been hiding for years and years now; from your family, from society, from alphas and packs. Suppressants were dangerous but effective and necessary for an omega who refused to be owned—but no suppressants were strong enough to fool the nose of a super soldier, who together with his pack would stop at nothing to bind you to them forever.

pairings: dark!Avengers x reader

word length: 4.7k

chapters: 5/?

warnings: A/B/O dynamics, power imbalances, noncon and dubcon sexual situations, loss of autonomy, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat — this is a dark!fic, read at your own risk. more detailed content warnings are included at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers, click through the read more, CTRL + F “content warnings”. 

Rationality within Carol’s pack was often treated like a talking stick; only one person could have and use it at a time, and stealing it required either brute force or a clever trick—which was why she and Loki fumbled it back and forth so often. Sam seemed to have snatched it for a moment, until their omega’s sharp tongue made him fumble. She was cutting and brutal, as wild as she’d looked the first time Carol saw her: covered in mud and blood, half soaked from the bath and thrashing violently while Thor and Peter tried to gently get her in the tub.

The blonde figured it was time to regain the upper hand over their omega and came to stand at the top of the stairs, eyes locking on Sam from behind. He was turning the corner from patience to frustration, their little omega’s demeaning comments making the muscle in his jaw clench. It was impressive though; any of the other alpha’s in the house (plus herself and maybe minus Peter) would’ve had her nose in the corner by now, bent over to hold her own ankles and struggling for balance so that her forehead didn’t press against the wall lest she earn herself a spanking for being sulky.

“Alright Sammy, tag out,” Carol made sure that there was an undertone of mirth in her voice, hoping to bring the other alpha out of his anger. “You should probably go check on dinner and—Bruce, test results?”

“Oh, you’re right,” the beta nodded, immediately headed for the stairs. “Her hormone analysis should be ready at the least.”

The moment her eyes landed on the little omega on the bed, Carol felt her heart melt just a bit. Despite the vitriol she’d been spitting just moments before, the precious thing looked like an angel sprawled out in their den. All she wore was one of Thor’s t-shirts, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs and perfuming her scentless skin with his musk—she couldn’t wait until the suppressants were out of their omega’s system, Carol desperately wanted to know what she smelled like.

“Sammy?” The blonde prompted when the male alpha didn’t move, leading him to sigh.

“Yeah babe,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss against the omega’s forehead, ignoring how she shrunk back into the pillows behind her. “I’m out. Take care of her, beautiful.”

Sam stopped to press a kiss against Carol’s cheek on his way down the stairs, gesturing for Tony to follow. The genius rolled his eyes and huffed but followed nonetheless, only after tossing a wink at the scowling omega huddled in what would hopefully soon be a nest. Carol waited until they were both down before returning her attention to the younger woman, stomach filling with butterflies.

Carol had wanted an omega since she presented as an alpha at twelve. 90% of the people she interacted with thought she was such a waste—a female alpha? Objectively, a useless combination. Female alphas were weak and passive, certainly not strong enough to lead a pack or produce strong alpha babies. If only she’d been a delta or a beta, she could’ve at least carried children. She’d always been fully aware that society’s perspective was incredibly flawed; she was as dominant as any male, just as potent and just as strong. Stronger even—more recently by unimaginable levels.

But omegas rarely looked negatively upon female alphas. Omegas preened and clamored for the attention female alphas provided, they saw it as more tender and careful. Carol didn’t know if she exactly agreed with that either, but at least an omega would never look at her and consider her a very pretty waste.

Or so the blonde had thought, right up until making eye contact with the sweet-faced omega her pack had managed to stumble upon. She certainly didn’t look pleased, her glare verging on incendiary.

“You sure are feisty,” she felt her lips quirking at the corners, especially when the omega seemed to puff up like an angry kitten. “What you said to Sam wasn’t very nice. You gonna hiss at me too?”

The answer was a resounding yes, the cute, clicking cub growl she made only reinforcing Carol’s gut instinct that the little omega was perfect. She liked that fire, it wasn’t disrespectful—it demanded respect and the blonde could certainly understand that sort of attitude. Considering her omega’s evident disdain for modern presentation centered care, it could even be considered mild.

“Claws away, baby,” she ordered, tone amused and the smile still curling her lips as she toed her shoes off at the edge of the bed. “Be a good girl for me now.”

Carol pressed the omega flat to the bed before she could fight, plastering herself against the half-naked woman and burying her face in the crook of her neck. Scenting deeply made the blonde’s eyes roll back in her head—the faint scent of panicking omega wafted off her skin, only noticeable at such a distance. Thank God the Hulk picked it up, the alpha’s senses so incredibly strong that even while masked by Bruce’s beta he had picked up the faint whiff of omega; if Bruce hadn’t prompted Steve to scent carefully they might not’ve found her. Carol hadn’t been the only one in the pack desperate for an omega.

Thor had been… devastated to learn of the lack of omegas on Earth. With the destruction of Asgard and the remaining population’s relocation, it had been another gut punch to the alpha prime who’s people had already endured so much. He’d spoken at length about how omega Aesir were different than humans’ and the tone of longing and sadness in the prime had radiated through their entire pack.

The deltas, Bucky, Tony and Loki had all realized years ago how sorely their dynamic suffered without an omega. A delta’s overwhelming physiological drive was to provide support and comfort to pack members, their intuition let them see their packmates in a way the other presentation’s couldn’t replicate. Their pack’s deltas were all incredibly intuitive, beyond the norm, and without an omega to properly direct them they got manipulative. It was rarely antagonistic or cruel and if there had only been one delta in the pack, it would’ve slid by without notice—but deltas perceived the deception where others didn’t and it usually led to dissent amongst the three.

And while Steve had never said a word, Carol knew that as a sickly little beta he’d dreamt of being ‘strong enough to deserve an omega’. Bucky had mentioned it briefly—as had Tony, who’d heard it from his father at least biweekly. Steve loved omegas; he loved that they balanced an incredible strength with equal fragility. The very nature of them spoke to his inner artist, ‘his inner romantic,’ Bucky had teased. Now that he was a big ass alpha prime? He could deserve an omega now, he was strong enough now.

Their omega was practically a miracle, considering how few of them there were—so few adults, especially. Some claimed the overall population of omegas was going up despite the overwhelming evidence of the opposite and besides, the number of omegas born every year didn’t matter when you had packmates approaching their mid-forties. Tony, Bruce, and Clint were getting up there, as everyone liked to tease. Finding a reasonably aged omega that was also unclaimed? They’d never even considered the possibility, it was unfathomable.

Carol had consoled herself with the knowledge that her pack loved her deeply, found no fault in her gender or presentation. She knew it would take time, but soon her omega would realize the same. There was nothing wrong with her, she didn’t need to hide or put on a façade; not in their pack, not under their protection. Whatever the omega had gone through in her life must’ve been traumatizing, the blonde could only assume some sort of abuse, and it would be tough to instill confidence in her. They’d need to build her back up from scratch.

“You know, if you’d let Wanda search your mind, we’d have a much easier time understanding what’s going on,” the blonde murmured into the omega’s neck, nose brushing back and forth over her left scent gland. “Will you tell me why you’re so scared? Are you afraid of alphas or of packs? Or deltas?”

“I’m afraid of being trapped forever by a bunch of fucking rapists and kidnappers!” She spat furiously in response, struggling futilely under Carol’s careful grasp. “Get your fucking face out of my neck!”

“Packs it is then,” Carol sighed, lifting her head but keeping the woman pinned beneath her.

“You’re so shifty ‘mega, calm down. There are some horrible people out there, we know that better than anyone, and I’m sorry that you were hurt. I’m sorry you had to go through whatever it was.”

The omega froze, muscles pulling so tightly that she started to shiver. Her lips pursed, jaw clenching and her eyes got dim, lashes fluttering as she looked into the distance over Carol’s shoulder. It was a dead-eyed stare, one the blonde had seen before. Her baby was half trapped in a memory, tightly clenched hands clawing at Carol’s shirt and trying to force her body away.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry, come back—” Carol cooed into the omega’s ear, holding her tighter as she struggled. “You’re with me baby, you’re safe. Breathe with me, come back to me.”

“Would you fucking get off!” The omega choked, sounding both parts desolate and frustrated. “Why don’t you people fucking listen? Am I speaking gibberish?”

“I’m sorry you’re so angry omega,” the blonde’s eyebrows furrowed, sadness permeating her expression as she lowered her head to rest her forehead against the omega’s. “I’m sorry, I can’t get off—you need the pheromones, the alpha contact chemicals. Even if you’re traumatized, once the suppressants you’re on start to wear off you’re going to have to submit. We need to start practicing now so you can get comfortable with it, before it’s critical for your health.”

“Stop saying you’re sorry, you’re not sorry! If you were, you would’ve let me go. You wouldn’t be holding me here! I don’t need or want your help, I don’t want to be in a pack!”

“I hear you, baby, I promise I understand what you’re saying,” Carol carefully pinned one of the flailing omega’s arms down with her knee, reaching up to stroke the woman’s face. “You don’t want to be here, you don’t want to have a pack, I’m sure you don’t want to be bonded to us. But you’re on so many suppressants baby, there are so many mind-altering chemicals in the shit you were taking—”

“If you force me to stop taking them I’ll only be under the ‘mind-altering’ chemicals produced by the other presentations and—and this stupid collar forcing my body to produce addictive chemicals at a rapid rate,” she argued, “you want to argue that I’m out of my mind like I can’t be trusted with my own safety! I’m fully conscious, I’m not stupid, I’m an adult for fuck’s sake. The only thing that’s going to fuck up my personal agency is you!”

“We’ll know for sure when Bruce gets your test results back,” Carol sighed realizing how unlikely it would be for her to get through to the omega. “Tony’s having some equipment dropped by in the morning so he and Bruce can run some more. If your hormone levels aren’t entirely trashed, we’ll revisit this conversation.”

“You have to let me take my suppressants tonight then,” the omega pushed against the blonde again, grunting with effort and irritation when she didn’t move at all. “Otherwise the test results from today won’t match the ones tomorrow, missing a dose will entirely trash my hormone levels! The tests won’t provide an accurate reading!”

Carol was shaking her head before she’d even finished the explanation. “No way, there’s a reason those are illegal, baby. They’re so dangerous—”

“I’ve been taking them for fifteen years and I’m completely fine, come on—”

She watched the omega’s face fall when she sighed, “it’s not gonna happen baby. This one isn’t up for debate.”

“This one?” The omega scoffed bitterly, lips twisting as angry tears collected in her eyes. “Nothing is ‘up for debate’. I’m here, aren’t I? Obviously against my will. I’m not even wearing my own clothes, you won’t let me move! You’re acting like this is the one bit of agency you’re planning to strip from me but you’re either too stupid to realize that or you’re too caught up in the idea of having a house bitch to care!”

“Hey, don’t say that,” Carol frowned, thumb smoothing over the crease between her brows. “We’re not looking to ruin your life, baby. The last thing we want is to make you meek or take away your ability to make your own choices, but we have to take care of you.”

“Y-you don’t though,” she hissed, breath hitching as she fought not to cry in front of the alpha. “I’ve been taking care of-of myself for years. I’ve never had a problem I’ve—I’ve never been attacked or assaulted or—”

Carol shifted until the omega was cradled in her lap, easily blocking the omega’s attempts to escape her grasp, “If that’s true baby girl, I don’t think you understand how rare it is—or how it would mean you were poisoning yourself so thoroughly that no alpha could scent you. There’s too many people out there would hurt you just for being you; the only way for you to be safe is with us, where you don’t have to keep taking the pill equivalent of drinking gasoline and bleach.”

“I should have the choice!”

“The choice to slowly kill yourself?” The blonde looked down into the omega’s face in disbelief. “No one in their right mind would allow another person to suffer like that.”

Their attention was suddenly and brutally drawn to the stairwell, both of their hindbrains reacting to the scent of overwhelmingly aroused alphas accompanied by raised voices and shouting. The omega in her lap went completely and utterly still, instincts locking down all movement as if it could prevent her from being seen. Carol sighed quietly through her nose, nudging her forehead gently against the charming little creature hiding against her chest. She couldn’t really tell what they were yelling about but she figured it had something to do with whatever Bruce found.

“Someone has to—!”

“That doesn’t mean—!”

“It should be—!”

The blonde cracked her neck, arms slipping around the waist of her omega and locking in place like iron bands. The cowering made it easier for Carol to snuggle her tightly against her chest, wiggling them carefully as several pairs of feet began stomping up the stairs, until the omega was entirely engulfed by the alpha from behind. Steve and Thor made it up first, shoulder to shoulder and passive-aggressively nudging each other in the ribs. Sam was next, along with Bucky—both of whom were being decidedly antagonistic to poor Peter who followed behind.

“Would you guys shut the hell up? What’s going on?”

Before anyone else could respond Bruce forced his way between the group of more dominant males, eyes flashing green even as he attempted to shake it off, “the amount of alpha pheromone in her blood is so low it’s amazing she isn’t in shock.”

“What?!” The omega snapped furiously, eyes darting between the people standing around the room nervously. “There’s nothing wrong with me—!”

“Carol, hold her,” Steve ordered, as if the blonde hadn’t locked the omega down the second they heard them coming. “Thor, how are we gonna do this?”

Both primes looked almost pained, their faces painted with grimaces as they exchanged glances. Their struggle was easy to identify; neither wanted to cause any strife between them, damage to their partnership would damage the pack but they wanted to be first. Their hindbrains could barely function beyond the desire to fuck their omega, their pretty, sweet little omega who desperately needed alpha semen because her body would stop functioning without it. Primes always got first take on omegas, but when there were two primes in a pack things got dicey.

“Have one of us do it,” Carol chimed, carefully maintaining an expression that relayed she wasn’t trying to step on toes. “Both of you are massive, you could do damage without proper prep and if it’s that serious we can’t wait on that.”

“I’ll do it!” Peter was quick to step forward. “You all know I’ll the gentlest and she’s already upset—”

“Shut it Spiderboy,” Sam quickly interjected, giving the younger alpha a stern look, “she needs careful handling, not some teenager fumbling with his knot.”

“I’m not a teenager anymore you asshole—!”

“Carol’s cock is the smallest,” Tony stated nonchalantly as he kicked off his shoes in the closet that faced the den, “no offense babe, just logistics.”  

“None taken,” the blonde snorted slightly in amusement before turning her attention to the two primes, “I can get her started, at least get her hormones on the right track.”

“Let go of me you psycho!” The omega howled, voice constricted by her collar. “Get away from me, let me go!”

A low, bone-deep rumble suddenly washed over everyone in the attic, the growl emanating from both Steve and Thor. A keening moan escaped the omega, her breath hitching and eyes rolling as viscous slick gushed from her pussy. The scent of it made waves through the rest of the pack, a cacophony of moans and growls echoing off the high ceiling as the responding scent of hot and bothered emanated through the den.

“Thor?” Steve questioned the other prime imploringly, knowing that they needed an immediate answer and follow through.

The taller man grit his teeth, nose flaring for several moments before he let out another low growl that made their omega cry with arousal. “You first—leave my shirt on her, please.”

“Oh God, oh God,” the whimpering omega shifted in Carol’s arms, likely about to try to make a break for it when Steve swept her up into his arms. “Please, wait—!”

“Your pussy is dripping for your primes, isn’t it precious?” The alpha male hummed quietly as he swiftly lowered them both to the bed, hands grasping the backs of her thighs and pressing her knees towards her shoulders. “So much slick for such a little thing.”

The whine that came from Peter sounded wrecked, only minutely more embarrassing than the groans and panting coming from the rest of the pack as they watched. The omega looked to be approaching frantic and Carol sighed, shifting farther away from the prime on the bed—there was no reason to test Steve’s incredible patience. Well, that had been Carol’s opinion anyway.

Evidently Loki believed otherwise, but then again the delta was habitually prone to testing Steve’s last goddamn nerve. The brunet had appeared with a shimmering green light, lying on the bed so close to the omega that the scent from his ridiculously expensive Fendi sweater was transferring to her arm and shoulder. The prime had barely flinched, certainly hadn’t reacted in a manner more noticeable than a slight dilation in his pupil. Thor made a reprimanding noise but didn’t move forward to remove the delta, much to Bucky and Tony’s immediate disdain.

“Why the fuck does he get to—!”

“You better rethink that, Ice Man!”

The combined snarls from both primes quickly brought all three deltas to heel and while Loki didn’t retreat, he did keep his hands to himself. One hand propped up his head, the other tightly fisted and rested on the bed between himself and the omega’s borrowed shirt while eyes burned into him from all sides. The omega’s wide eyes were locked on the man, some flicker of recognition fleetingly passing over her face. Loki was good at surprise entrances and even better at taking advantage of his brother’s status in the pack—not that he necessarily got away with things the others wouldn’t, but none of the others particularly wanted to find out what the prime’s breaking point was either.

“I just want to keep her calm, is that so horrible?” The tone the God used was smooth and Carol remembered the talking stick analogy again. “You can smell the poor thing’s terror, is it really necessary?”

Steve looked conflicted for maybe two seconds when a light went off behind his eyes. “Keep her calm so I don’t have to purr and you can stay.”

The delta’s hand immediately slipped up the front of her shirt, cupping the curve of her rib cage just under her breast. His nose pressed into her neck in the following moments, a small golden glow flowing over the little omega’s skin where he touched her. The odor of fear was quick to recede once the windows were open, replaced with the tangy-sweet scent of her pussy. Carol inhaled sharply and whined, drawing Steve’s attention to her wide, sad eyes.

The prime huffed, running one big hand through his hair while Loki held the omega’s thigh in place. “Hands to yourself, Carol.”

The blonde immediately tucked her nose into the other side of the omega’s neck, hands clenched into fists and tucked tightly against her stomach. She could hear the rest of the pack shuffling around, vying for space and views on the bed. Steve seemed entirely unbothered, his gaze once again locked on the pretty omega’s.

“Is your cunt working your slick hard enough precious?” He murmured directly into her ear, lips brushing the skin gently. “If those muscles aren’t strong enough we might have to put in a bit more effort to stretch you out. Squeeze around my fingers baby.”

Carol’s eyes rolled back when a breathy whine escaped the omega, the only perceivable reaction that might’ve betrayed her fear—otherwise, whatever magic Loki had used made her eyes shine with bliss. Steve had two fingers knuckle deep in her cunt, still pressing forward while his slick coated thumb swept up through her folds to pass over her clit. She shook under the grasp of his packmates, hips shifting without her consent to follow the movement of his hand.

“Come on sweetheart, please?” Steve implored quietly, looking at the loosely pinned omega with soft eyes. “Clench your pussy for me, let me take care of you. Please, I—oh, there you go, that’s a good girl.”

He hummed, working his fingers deeper into her cunt and scissoring them carefully. A smile lit the prime’s face when the cutest hiccupping moan escaped the omega, her legs pressing futilely against his hold. Muscle memory tried to guide her legs closed but Carol easily slipped a hand around her knee, keeping her spread wide while Steve continued to stretch her pussy. Another bass toned growl from Thor reverberated off the walls and she wailed, slick dripping over Steve’s fingers while her pussy contracted in waves as commanded by the prime’s guttural growl.

“I’m gonna take care of you precious,” her low whine prompted a moan from Steve as he added a third finger, carefully pressing the pads of his fingers up against her g-spot. “You’ll feel so much better once we fuck you, I promise.”

Carol watched with heavily lidded eyes as the omega’s attention was sparked by Steve’s use of the collective we. Likely it was only Loki’s magic that kept her from lashing out as viciously as they knew she was capable of. In spite of it, her little teeth showed, sharp incisors flashing in a botched hiss. The prime poised himself over her carefully with a small grin, fingers still fucking into her with vigor while he rested his weight on his elbow next to her head.

“It’s gonna be okay omega, it’s gonna be okay,” he cooed quietly against her ear, removing his hand only to pull his cock from his pants. “Take deep breaths, baby.”

“Don’t—” She didn’t sound distressed, the omega sounded aroused and desperate, “I—”

“Shhhh,” the prime’s lips skimmed over her cheeks, down her nose while his hand guided his dick up and down her slick folds until he was dripping with her arousal. “I’m gonna take care of you, precious. We’re gonna take care of you.”

The sound that escaped the omega’s lips as he slipped into her was goosebump inducing in the best way. She whined as the head popped in, breath hitching with every millimetre that came thereafter—and there were a lot of them. The omega was squirming, her heels scrambling against the blankets and both Loki and Carol found themselves having to focus much harder than expected on keeping her still while Steve bottomed out.

“You’re doing so well, darling,” Loki cooed, his nose brushing the line of her jaw. “I know it’s a lot but you’re taking it beautifully. Stay still love, just relax we’ll hold you.”

“That’s right ‘mega,” Steve groaned as he withdrew, the squelch of her cunt making his teeth clench. “We’ll do all the work precious, you just have to be a good girl and take my cock.”

It was easier said than done and everyone in the room save Thor was fully aware of that. The omega’s sweet little whines and cries were causing a massive feedback loop of arousal in the pack’s consciousness and Carol was pretty sure she could hear the sounds of several people going at it but she couldn’t pull her gaze away from where Steve’s cock was drilling into that pretty cunt. Evidently said feedback loop was also affecting Steve, who very suddenly growled possessively.

“Carol, Loki, off,” The prime snapped barely hesitating before dropping his elbows into the pillows on either side of the omega’s head, narrowly avoiding giving his pack mates concussions. “Now.”

Both the alpha and the delta were yanked off the bed by their ankles—well, Carol was yanked off the bed. Loki was yanked off the bed and then promptly thrown into the wall by said ankles. The reinforced exterior wall meant there was only a small dent where the god had landed, but the ensuing ruckus had a strong potential of causing even more damage. Thor immediately turned to deal with the problem, along with several other packmates.

Several things occurred in the next few seconds and the pack would probably fight about what really happened for the next twenty years, but somehow Bucky was thrown through the window and Tony’s right ring finger was broken.

And Wanda—poor Wanda, Thor pushed her out of the way before Bucky could accidentally take her through the window with him. The beta was sent flying, sailing across the bed until she hit the unyielding form of Steve. He startled in shock, immediately drawing back to assess her condition—only for a heel to slam directly into his nose. The prime’s head snapped back from the force, big body falling backwards while his hands scrambled for purchase on his face.

The omega probably would’ve even gotten down the stairs if Natasha hadn’t been ascending the stairs at that moment, having heard the commotion from where she and Clint had been putting away groceries. The redhead smelled her before seeing her, a somewhat sinister grin pulling Nat’s lips when the omega ran directly into her while attempting escape #2.

“Now where are you going, kitten? With that mess dripping down your thighs,” the beta cooed, head tilting as she scented the air. “Why can I smell Steve on you, but not his cum?”

There was a horrible, long pause while the omega seemed to consider her options before landing on Go For Broke. She attempted to dodge past Natasha but the beta’s strong arm immediately lashed around her waist, her superior strength making it easy to force her up the stairs even as she refused to hold her own weight.

Steve met them just two steps from the top, dick out and covered in blood. The prime’s expression wasn’t so much angry as it was disappointed and Natasha hummed in false sympathy.

“Someone’s been naughty, huh kitten?”

content warnings: nonconsensual sex, voyeurism 

[seaweed8rain]

Which One of These Three Time-Traveling Films is the Best?

Written by Rayhan Abrar Rizkan

 Writing this comparing and contrast piece has been a challenge for me, the biggest challenge is to pick what topics do I really want to discuss. The runner ups are : Star Wars, the Ocean’s franchise, and even down to which is the best girl in Chainsaw Man. Other references aside, this one is my pick, due to my fascination towards Time-Traveling films. For this piece, I narrowed down the nominations into these three : TENET, Avengers: Endgame, and Terminator 2: Judgment Day.

 I picked TENET because of my personal bias. I picked Avengers: Endgame because you all have probably seen it. And I picked the second Terminator movie because it is one of the most quintessential, monumental, and an absolute classic to set the pop culture we know today. I could have picked Back to the Future, but I can’t, or won’t, pick one. Let us begin with the first point of comparison : The Story.

 The most important thing to a film is the script, the writing that you sell to the studio or anyone you want to work with. It goes without saying, it has to be good. A Movie has to tell a story, to follow a character, and/or to set a specific goal in mind. It is the easiest and the first thing people say when they are describing a movie, for example, “It’s the one where they have to carry a ring to the volcano.”, “There’s wizards, magic, and they have to defeat a snub-nosed villain.”, “So there’s this guy, and he got bit by a radioactive spider....”. Case in point, you can probably guess those movies just by the plot or the premise, that is set by the script, that is how powerful a story could be if written properly.

 TENET has a simple story. Calling it complicated is an understatement, but if you finally opened your third eye somehow while watching this movie, it is simple. TENET is a lot of movies stacked into one, it is a spy movie, a heist movie, a sci-fi, and action. TENET follows the Protagonist (That is how you know this movie is beyond awesome, they do not even bother naming the lead) to find pieces of an advanced weapon algorithm with secret battles coming from the past and the future to stop World War III from the hand of the main villain, Sator. See my point here? It is simple..... but I did leave out the whole time-bending plot to see it all in one straight line. . But when you see all things unveil, especially during the second watch seeing that it is how Nolan makes his movies, you can truly appreciate TENET for what it is, cinema.

 Avengers: Endgame, you already know the story. After their massive defeat in Infinity War, the original members with the help of few others tries to undo what Thanos did and return those who are lost. This movie is plain and vanilla yet the perfect closing for this symphony of Marvel’s ensemble cast in comic book movies, you do not have to follow all 21 MCU movies to watch the adventures that they went through to understand the main story, but they will reward you if you do, as there are tons of fan service and easter eggs to get excited for.

 For Terminator 2, maybe I should explain on why I chose this instead of the original, and it ties in to the story. In the first Terminator movie, Skynet, to put it simply is a future-evil-internet-robot-brain programmed to eradicate humanity and enslave those who survived in the purge. Skynet sent a robot assassin with the face of Arnold Schwarzenegger to kill Sarah Connor from giving birth to John Connor, the future leader of the resistance that will defeat Skynet. So the John Connor in the future sent Kyle Reese, one of the member of the resistance to protect his mother Sarah from the Terminator Model 101. Kyle eventually stopped the Terminator and somehow fathered John Connor in the process. To recap the first movie, John sent his own father to protect his mom from the past. Now, the second movie is where they did a twist. Instead of just having another advanced Terminator to the past sent by another version of Skynet, the resistance also sent another reprogrammed Terminator to protect the target that is (kid) John Connor. If this is done now, the twist is completely overdone and seen as nothing but a gimmick. But for a movie in the 90’s? this is revolutionary. Its like having Jason Krueger as your ally in the sequel, but replace that with an Arnold Schwarzenegger looking killer robot despite the lack of his trademark of making unintelligible noises. Because of the same face, the Terminator has to convince Sarah that he is not the Terminator she once knew in the first movie, but a reprogrammed one set to protect them, this interaction of not trusting one another and always be on guard sets up the movie very well. The flick is a staple of action movie back in the day, having two indestructible killing machines squaring up against one another, how can anyone top that at that era?

 Now that we are all caught up with the story, it is time to discuss the soul of these movies have in common, the Time-traveling aspect, the main plot device, the cause or the breaker of movie retcons. In this short list, Terminator has to be the simplest in terms of the mechanics of the time-travel story. The time machine is one time use only, as it can only be used in the future where such things exist. So once you go back in time, the only way to go back to the future is to wait, just like everyone else. And what you did in the past will instantly affect the future accordingly. The time machine in Terminator movies has to be the one with the weirdest mechanic, where you can only send things with living tissues and no other, now that the fact is laid out on you then yes, everyone who went back in time has to be naked. So they have to find new clothing when they arrived. At least that is their explanation on why the Terminator has to be wrapped up in synthetic human skin, not to show off Arnold’s five hours a day of intensive muscle toning in six months with the help of a big pile chicken breast and a year supply of protein shake, not at all.

 Avengers: Endgame has the most flexible machine out of all, where you can set the time and place of where you want to be, as long as you have enough supply of Pym particles to go subatomic and travel a safe passage through the fabric of time. But with multiple journeys with different groups you will run a risk of creating an alternate timeline, but they simply nullify such possibility with having Hulk said that they will go back in time after the final battle is done, and return the things they took in the past back to its place and time so nothing will inherently change. The time traveling part of the movie is the charm of Endgame, where we get to re-visit the characters, places, and events we have seen in the previous films in a different perspective that is canon to the universe.

 Now, this is where it all gets tricky to explain, because the time-traveling of TENET is not the same as any other movies I have seen. Calling it a time-traveling is not even entirely accurate, but the mechanic of how it works calls for more of a “Time-inversion”. The time machine in this film is very rustic, where you go into this big turning door that leads to the other side of the room, but once you are “inverted”, you move forward in time, but the world around you goes backwards. You cannot choose which time you want to go to, if you want to go back in time for 10 minutes, you have to wait it out while being inverted for 10 minutes, that is why the palindrome suits with the whole movie. This makes amazing visuals when combined with action sequences, imagine reverse car chases, bullets were caught to the gun instead of being shot out of, punches were pulled instead of thrown. In other words, if you see a sequence of two people with one of them inverted, they can both win or lose at the end depending on which point-of-view you choose.

The time inversion in TENET is not only treated as a plot device, but also the philosophy that is abided by the movie, as there is only one timeline that exist in the movie. This is made clear in the story that no matter what you do, you cannot change the outcome of the future, as the present is set with the human’s free will, and even though they are randomly generated, it happened anyway. “What’s happened, happened” said Neil, one of the main characters in the movie explaining how time inversion works to the Protagonist. It is not a battle to change the outcome, but to gain a perspective for what’s to come.  Whatever happens, happened and will happen all at the same time. With the limited mechanic of time-inversion that TENET has (or had, or will have, this is confusing even to me now), it is amazing what it can achieve in terms of storytelling, how the story we see in front of us is one enormous temporal pincer collision of the past, future, and present in one sitting (or collide, collided, will collide, I do not know what is happening). From my standpoint, clearly I prefer TENET above all else, but do let me know what’s your pick out of these three! Better yet, what is your favourite time-traveling film? 

[katyatalks]

Mob Psycho 100 II - Kameda Yoshimichi’s Character Design Notes

With each blu-ray/DVD volume of MP100 II Character Designer Kameda Yoshimichi gives some notes regarding his process designing each character. Here are all his notes for S2 in the order they are presented, regarding; Shinra Banshoumaru, Emi, Mogami Keiji, Joudou Kirin, Asagiri Minori, The Urban Legends, Shimazaki Ryou, Hatori Nozomu, Minegishi Toshiki, Shibata Hiroshi, Suzuki Touichirou & Serizawa Katsuya.

SHINRA BANSHOUMARU

My highly recommended character from season 2, Shinrin Maruo! … that’s not his name, it’s Shinra Banshoumaru!! I super, super love Shinra to the point where it’s unbearable, and I even put him into season 1!!! Do you know where, though? These lovable, chubby characters - they’re lacking in recent anime, but I figured I’m in the position to change that!! I made him bigger than he is in the manga and upon drawing his rough design, Director Tachikawa told me I was going too far and had me draw a retake. I was like a bulldozer - ‘That’s so stupid!’ - so I managed to save his nice body (laughs).

After episode 2 he doesn’t appear at all, but please be sure to love Shinrin!!! How about a spin-off!? “Shinrin Psycho 100”, how’s that!?!?!? Ah, Shinra, actually. Sorry.

EMI

The amount of people who wanted to see this story animated!!!! Since it usually ranks either first or second place in polls that assess the most popular story in the Mob Psycho 100 manga, we figured we’d have season 2 start with it, and since it’s such a popular part, there was an agreement that I’d be animation director for it! Which I was enthusiastic about, until - huh? Episode 2 has Shinra Banshoumaru? Then, I’ll do episode 2! And with that, I left episode 1 in the hands of Yoshida-san! It’s a story with drama at its heart, and that’s what Yoshida-san specialises in, so I was happy with that!!! I’m pleased with Emi-chan’s hair colour. I made it a caramel-pink. My type 100%.

MOGAMI KEIJI

Truth is, work on Mob Psycho 100 II began from Episode 5. Because of that, the first of the fresh new characters to be drawn was Mogami. Just before getting to work on Mob Psycho 100 II I’d been working on something else where the proportions are quite short, so I kept in mind that I had to make sure that didn’t affect my designs here - as a result, for the first rough draft for Mogami, I had him with full on shoulder pads so he’d look taller, in a Saeba Ryou kinda vibe (laughs). Well, maybe not as far as Saeba Ryou. As expected, following a check with the director I was told the balance of his body isn’t Mob Psycho-ish!  And now his design is as it is. And yet… maybe it would’ve been nice to have his shoulders be raised, just a little?? In the manga he’s quite a handsome man, but my Mogami isn’t that handsome… that’s regrettable.

JOUDOU KIRIN

I have Joudou-sensei wear a kesa [Buddhist priest’s robe] in the anime - it’s pretty cute, isn’t it? Something I paid attention to was the lines from where his kesa ends to his tip toes! He appears in episodes 4-7 and more so than Mogami does, but he’s fun to draw. His deformation in episode 4 was super funny, so we included more of those (laughs). However, the wrinkles on his forehead and his hair barcode are a bit of trouble, and he’s got three rosaries on, and vertical stripes on his kesa… a lot of lines, and animating all those lines is a delicate matter. Also, he has huge eyes. They must get dry easily, I’m sure that’s tough for him.

ASAGIRI MINORI

We get three design variations for Minori - the one in the bed, the one that’s possessed by Mogami, and the one wearing Salt Middle School’s sailor uniform. Her chipped nails while she’s lying in the bed are an anime original. I wanted something in her design that’d counter her cute face. Above everything, what stands out in her design is her hair colour!!!! Her final design has her with purple hair, but at first I imagined her with a cute pink, like Minky Momo-chan. However, the pink hair didn’t really match with her skin colour and overall ghastliness when she’s possessed by Mogami, so after a revision, I went for purple. The way she is now… well, she’s cute, but I think pink hair would’ve been reeeeeeally cute! There’s not many illustrations in the manga where the characters are given colour, so it was very fun getting to choose colours for the anime!

URBAN LEGENDS

With the characters that appear in the Urban Legend Arc, it was super fun to envision how they might move around, and what details to add and/or remove!! Regarding Wriggle Wriggle from episode 1, in order to give a sense of scale in comparing its height with Mob’s, on its character sheet I drew it with an extreme use of perspective. An angle similar to that image gets used in the anime.

In episode 2, Red Raincoat is as he is in the manga, but The Dragger dragging her dolls behind her is an original design. I gave the three dolls she drags a sense of individuality & a ghastly feel, then thought about wetting her clothes and skirt with mud and rain, deciding to make her simple. The dragger has very long hair, which appeals to my 80s-anime-loving taste. I guess when it comes to original designs I always drag out something that I’ve been stocking in my own drawers (laughs).

On the other hand, with Dash Granny all we see of her is her running blurry form, so even on her character sheet her references are all smeared - kinda like me declaring, ‘right, I’m the animation director for episode 2, so let me handle drawing the granny.’ (Laughs).

Season 2 is filled with a lot of deep stories, so if we get to continue the Mob Psycho 100 anime, I’d like for us to do more light-hearted stories where cases related to urban legends are solved like this!!

SHIMAZAKI RYOU

The member of the Ultimate Five who gets the most time in the spotlight, Shimazaki - easy to draw, isn’t he?? His eyes are lines, the corners of his mouth are a little lifted - just draw that and there you go! Shimazaki! He fights with Teru-kun twice -  episodes 9 and 11 - but I’ve been told that the jersey Teru-kun wears from episode 10 onwards is quite perplexing (laughs). In the manga it’s a black jersey… of course I know that. It’s just… he fights Shimazaki, who has a black colour scheme, and then Mob and Sakurai also have black colour schemes… Suzuki is more or less the same, as is Koyama, so to say. Way too many characters with a black colour scheme. Having all these characters with black colour schemes in one scene? That’s a No, Thanks from me. With all that blackness, you wouldn’t be able to understand who’s who!!!!!! Huh? You’d understand because Teru is blonde? W-well...

HATORI NOZOMU

You noticed, right? Hatori’s very cute pigeon [hato] crest!! A crest I highly recommend! … and yet, Hatori doesn’t appear much, does he… plus, the pigeon really didn’t stand out at all either (laughs). As much as I could, I’d leave the style of clothing that each character wears in the manga more or less the same for their anime design, then apply colour, then add a design that matches the character - designing their clothes was fun! Teru-kun’s jersey has a seagull, and Koyama’s hoodie has a spiral-like design - I think it’d be fun to search for these designs!! Actually, why does Teru-kun’s jersey have a seagull on it, you might ask?? Well, flip the seagull upside down… and you get someone standing… pigeon toed!

MINEGISHI TOSHIKI

I felt like the kinds of plants Minegishi manipulates would be of a carnivorous nature, so I ended up learning a lot of stuff when I was doing research! When thinking of carnivorous plants, what immediately springs to mind is Rafflesia! Even when reading illustrated encyclopaedias as a kid, I thought Rafflesia plants looked pretty scary. I’d read something about ‘man-eating plants’ and thought to myself, man, I want that to be about Rafflesia - I looked it up and it was! It stinks, so it’s as if it eats both humans and insects! I feel sorry for it - it’s just a stinky flower. Also, I made a big discovery!! Seems like you can drink the digestive fluids of pitcher plants!!! *gags*. Apparently you can only drink it before they catch insects, but it’s close to being germ-free, so please, drink without worry! Also, in Malaysia or somewhere like that, it seems they put rice inside the mouth of a pitcher plant, then steam and eat it, like bamboo chimaki [Rice dumpling wrapped in bamboo leaves]. ...In a pitcher plant… really…? *gags* *gags again*. With venus flytraps, too, people put minced meat in their mouths and grill them or something… those of you who own carnivorous plants; please, give it a go!! But the result is your own responsibility!!!

SHIBATA HIROSHI

He brings the pressure in episode 10 - when I read the manga, I felt this incomparable atmosphere when Shibata transforms and roars noisily around. I think the anime was amazing in amping that up! Looking at the manga, when Shibata’s on his rampage, he takes on more of a swarthy tone. So when I came to choose his colours for the anime, I first had his skin tone be pretty dark, but I felt like that didn’t give the same impact as it did in the manga, so I proposed giving him a scarlet tone as if he came from the Asura realm! And I’m glad I had the sense to! Actually, speaking on this now, he’s kinda like The Hulk (laughs). I guess it would’ve been funny if I made his skin green.

SUZUKI TOUICHIROU

Truth is, I’d finalised Suzuki’s design during season 1. Only because he appears for a split second during the final episode, though (laughs). But, while working on the main story, something I noticed with my design that troubled me was that alongside being slender and baby-faced, his height left something to be desired… so he didn’t look like a boss character in the slightest. After I finished work on the final episode, I thought it’d be good to make his face a little longer, ie. more mature. To make him appear more aggressive, I tried to make his eyes smaller, but then his design strayed too far from his manga self. Of all the things that caused me grief, the worst one of them all was his hair - does he have a jagged hairline because he’s brushed his hair back, or is the jaggedness there a very short fringe due to him having short hair? After I finished work on the final episode, I unexpectedly had the chance to see ONE-sensei, live, drawing Suzuki - from there, my problem was solved!!! Jagged hair (laughs). (It’s due to him having short hair, right?) I apologise for never grasping the true form of his hair, right up to the end.

SERIZAWA KATSUYA

Translated previously here.

--

Twitter crosspost here.

Season 1 notes here.

[gaasaku-fanfests]

Desert Heart [Part III]

Title: Desert Heart Author: keltoi-oak Rating: T Word Count: 17886 Summary: Returning to his homeland in order to face the hardest trials of his life, Gaara encounters a water nymph who proves to be much more than she seems. Warnings: None Author's Note(s): AU/Fantasy. This threatened to turn into a multi-chapter monster, so I was forced to compress it into a three part fic. Managed to incorporate all the prompts. All in all, had a blast writing it. Hope you enjoy!

Prompt chosen:  chosen, survival, bells . (all three) Partner: thefreckledone

PART III

It was fading, little by little.

Sakura felt… different.

Over a week had passed since Gaara pulled her out of her agitated slumber and there was no doubt the experience had altered her.

As Sakura floated under the water, she closed her eyes and turned her consciousness inward. There was movement within her, a rearranging of sorts. Even though she could not pinpoint what was happening to her exactly, she was very much aware of the shift. The emotions still caught her unawares, and although she had remembered bits and pieces of a life long gone, she was still unable to make much sense of them.

But she was releasing the need to understand. Gaara’s words would echo in her ears, reminding her to respect the rhythm of her remembering. This helped to settle her inner discomfort and as a result, the intensity of her feelings was gradually diminishing. She was no longer overwhelmed. Because of her watery essence, Sakura was particularly good at flowing. So she dedicated herself to not resisting the current of emotions and to run with it.

Of course, other feelings were also surfacing. They were, as a matter of fact, becoming stronger by the day. But the difference was that she knew where these new sentiments were coming from. And frankly, she welcomed them.

The memory of the feel of Gaara’s arms around her, the sense of safety of falling asleep in his embrace, it all triggered honeyed and warm feelings within her. These were in complete contrast to the uncertainty, sorrow, and anxiety she had been experiencing. As was the case with Gaara, he provided great contrasts. And when being presented with such big differences, it was simple to decide which emotions to choose.

Therefore, Sakura focused on what he incited within her, welcoming the change. She would find herself relishing in his soft smiles, in the way the tone of jade in his eyes would shift depending on his mood, in the way the sun revealed orange glints in his otherwise dark scarlet hair. She would find herself absorbing his strength through his kind words and supportive perspective, finding that he was caring for her with the same commitment with which she was caring for him. They balanced out in the end. These emotions went hand in hand with the longing: her heart would always yearn when she waited for him to return.

The desire for closeness was also flooding her. After he offered her solace within his embrace, Sakura craved his nearness. He must have sensed it because he made it a point to make space for her. If he was cooking or eating, he would move to the side so she could sit next him; if he was meditating, he would allow her to rest her head on his thigh; when he rested on his bedroll, he would gesture for her to come close. These small allowances filled her heart with elation and helped to assuage the pining whenever he was away.

Because he offered her comfort, Sakura would always respond in kind. She would run her fingers through his hair whenever she had the chance. The softness of his locks had been a revelation. To realize Gaara welcomed her physical contact had brought with it great delight. Therefore, she wasted no chance to offer caresses, loving it when he leaned into her touch. It gave him ease when he returned to the pool exhausted. The fatigue he was experiencing was not just physical, but emotional and mental as well.

This was another element that weighed on her, the knowing he was pushing himself to his limit. Although Sakura knew the Sand Roam was meant to push participants to the edge of their abilities, she was very much concerned for Gaara’s well-being. What he needed was prolonged rest and quality sleep. His mind and body needed to recover equilibrium. She sincerely wished the challenges would come to an end sooner rather than later.

Rising inside the pool, she broke through the surface, looking up at the endless sky above. Sunset was fast approaching and Gaara had not returned yet. He had been gone since yesterday afternoon and it had been her hope that the present task would prove a short one. Just a few days ago, Gaara had survived an encounter with a lightning wyrm that had left him seriously wrung out. The battle had raged for long hours and had, no doubt, been his toughest challenge yet. Severely wounded but alive, Gaara had stumbled his way back to the oasis. Sakura had wasted no time in flooding him with her energies, lifting the water from the pool in order to sheath him in a healing cocoon. He was so fatigued, he was unconscious practically the whole time it took her to treat the wounds scattered across his body. When he finally opened his eyes, he was awake just long enough to get something to drink and have a quick bite. Sakura allowed him to slip back into slumber, knowing very well rest was essential.

The next day he had shown great improvement and was finally able to share the full account of his clash with the wyrm. He also attempted to stand and move about but Sakura was having none of it. His body had been seriously injured and although she had helped, its healing response was slowing down due to accumulated exhaustion. Therefore, she watched him like a hawk and did not allow him to stray from his bedroll.

Thanks to this, the day after that he was feeling much better and his wounds showed amazing progress. Sakura would have confined him to his bedroll for the whole day again but the desert had other plans.

The Sand Roam summons came around mid-afternoon.

Gaara dressed and prepared to leave with his characteristic stoicism. Sakura bit her lip to prevent herself from ranting, thinking the whole thing was incredibly unfair. But she was aware any complaints on her part would just be unnecessary weight. At the moment, Gaara had enough on his plate for him to deal with her opinion. As he had always told her, the Sand Roam was what it was. Adding mental drama to the challenges would only pull him under.

With his usual promise to return as soon as possible, he stepped out of the sanctuary of the crescent stones and wandered out into the dunes.

Knowing very well his body was still in the process of recovery, Sakura was concerned about the state he would be returning in this time round. With any luck, the present task would have proven simple, with no threat to his health. She held steadfast to this hope.

But her expectations were proven futile some time later.

A gust of wind pummelled against the stones all around the oasis, funnelling though the small space between the tips of the crescent and blowing straight at her. Sakura felt it lash across her face. She covered her eyes with her arms, blinking at the sand the draft had carried. A second later, another squall hit the pool with the same intensity, causing waves to crash against the rocks. Perplexed, she looked all around as the wind and sand continued their assault, one powerful gust at a time. The rocks responded, their usually unwavering energy vibrating with a sense of unrest. The cacti and succulents followed suit, their vitality becoming restless, and the trunk of the desert willow began shaking.

The realization of what the wind and sand were conveying hit her instantly: urgency.

Something of great magnitude was happening.

Sakura closed her eyes and became one with the water. She spread her consciousness into the small streams running deep within the earth. The ground around her was eliciting the same kind of agitation and it took some doing for her not to be overwhelmed by it. She continued to search, connecting with the waters hidden underground in an attempt to find an answer.

But then the voice of the pool resonated within her and Sakura heard it speak his name.

Gaara.

Something was happening to Gaara.

Her eyes flew open and she willed the water to rise. It lifted her up in the air, clearing the top of the rocks and continuing further. Up and up she went, until she could get an eagle’s eye view of the surrounding landscape.

‘Where?’ she asked.

The water turned her towards the left, where she could make out some figures in the distance. Even this far away, she could make out the deep scarlet of his hair. He was in the middle of a fight against three hulking figures. In a radius around the bout, she could see several people, all of them standing around as if waiting.

Sakura saw Gaara take a hit only to fall to the ground.

He did not stand up again.

– XXXXXXXX –

The bastards had waited for him on his way back. No doubt they had been spying on the route he took after finishing each challenge. They must have been aware of his battle against the lighting wyrm a few days back too. It was a sound strategy if you saw it objectively: catch your enemy at their weakest and attack with everything you have.

What they had was three large stone golems.

Gaara’s exhausted body and depleted chakra were simply no match for their brutal strength. He did his best to dodge and move around them but he simply could not avoid all their blows. Hit by hit they reduced the little stamina he had until he was breathing heavily, barely able to stand.

All the while, the group kept their distance and waited for their creations to finish the job. Gaara recognized some of the faces in the assembly: people who had called him monster to his face, people who had openly shunned and harassed him. The venom in their voice had not diminished in the least throughout the years.

“We will never accept you as Chieftain!” one of them shouted as he continued to battle the golems.

“The desert can’t choose you if you’re dead!” another exclaimed.

It was amazing how they still carried the hatred and the loathing with them.

Their words only hardened his resolve.

But even though he did his best to deal with the golems, his body had finally reached its limit. His legs did not respond to his command to dive to the right and one of the creatures hit him square in the torso, sending him flying through the air.

He landed forcefully some distance away, the air leaving his lungs completely. Harnessing the last of his strength, he bid his body to stand up but it could not obey. His chakra was completely exhausted.

With his cheek against the hot dry, ground, Gaara acted on the last choice available to him: he opened up to the desert and asked for its help.

But no response came.

Instead of a full-on reply from the landscape, a small, thin tendril of sand rose next to his head. It caressed his cheek lightly before dissolving in the breeze.

Gaara blinked, utterly befuddled.

He heard the heavy steps of the golems as they came closer, intent on finishing their task.

Once more, he turned inward and pleaded. Asked desperately for aid.

But the desert did not respond. It remained still. The vastness all around him held back.

A fraught sound escaped his lips.

Give in, he heard the desert say. Yield.

‘You want me to submit to my enemies? They will not accept my capitulation. What they want is my life.’

The thin tendril of sand returned to stroke his hair but was gone in an instant.

Cede.

Gaara closed his eyes. There was nothing left for him to do. No action left in him and the golems were moments away from ending his existence.

Trust, the desert insisted.

Letting out a deep breath, he did the most difficult thing he had ever done in his life: he let go. Completely.

‘If you wish for me to lay down my life for you,’ he told the desert, ‘so be it.’

In the next instant, he felt the foot of one of the golems connect with his battered torso. The blow sent him flying through the air once more.

As he landed, tumbling among rocks and sand, he realized he could barely feel pain anymore. Everything was going numb. Slowly, he was losing his connection with his body.

The golems lumbered close, battering him once more before throwing him into the air. Amidst the beating, Gaara realized he had one sole regret.

In a hoarse voice, he whispered her name.

– XXXXXXXX –

The fear rose in a torrent within her, clawing at her stomach and making her tremble.

Sakura was paralyzed, unable to fight the dread. Yet time continued to tick away, uncaring of the void that had opened up within her and threatened to swallow her whole.

The golems kept moving in on Gaara, pummelling him with their blows.

She was well aware his body would not be able to withstand much more.

The sorrow pushed itself into her awareness and robbed her of breath. A grief so intense it made her feel as if all colour had vanished from the world, never to return.

She felt so small, so insignificant. All she wanted was to crawl away and hide.

Gaara’s body rolled on the ground and the dread was back, chaining her up and preventing her from acting.

‘I’m powerless,’ she told herself, a dry sob shaking her frame. ‘I can’t leave the pool. I can’t move that far away from water.’

An overwhelming anguish rose to the fore and Sakura felt her heart break into a thousand pieces. Nothing in life would ever make her whole again.

The emotions were so extreme, she let out a desperate scream and clasped her head in her hands. There was no way of avoiding the force of the feelings, they kept slamming against her incessantly.

Just like the blows Gaara was receiving.

Sakura lifted her head and forced herself to look at him. He never ran away from a challenge, never looked the other way when something proved difficult. Stoic and steadfast, he continued on his path, facing it all even when he had no strength left.

He had taught her so much.

It was time she put the lesson to the test.

Turning inward, she looked the dread in the eye. Gave it her full attention. She felt herself being pulled in, falling into an abyss where nothing but fear existed. She gave in to it, let it rise without restraint. And as overwhelming as it felt, Sakura realized something: there was a part of her that was aware of the dread. A part that stood apart and was untouched by it.

The terror was just a part… a part of her whole.

She was not the fear.

Pulling back, she created distance from the emotion. In a similar vein, she looked straight at the grief, taking in the anguish fully, and came to the same conclusion.

It was a part of her, not all of her.

She was not her grief.

 The whole contained the parts. It was big enough to hold them, to experience them, and still remain standing.

The realization unlocked something within her, a portal that burst open with a force that left her reeling. She felt power flooding through her limbs. It greeted her like an old friend, one who had been waiting a long time for her to let it in.

It surged through her, flooded her entire body until there was no space left for anything else. Every particle of her body vibrated with it, clearing away all her confusion and cutting through her emotions like a blade.

Lifting her face to the sky, she felt a yell rise from the very core of her being.

“I am not my past!”

The sound of her voice echoed up into the ether and was gone, taken what she did not want with it.

As she turned towards the fight once more, she heard him clearly.

“Sakura.”

Her heart answered fervently to the sound of Gaara’s voice, the core of her entire being focusing exclusively on him.

When he called, there was nothing she could do but answer.

– XXXXXXXX –

The beating was brutal yet somehow, Gaara was still conscious. A part of his mind wondered idly just how much he would have to endure before the end.

The golems kept coming, their unnatural strength never diminishing. As constructs, they would be able to keep this up for days without tiring. It was all a matter of how long it would take for Gaara’s body to give out.

He hoped it wouldn’t be much longer.

But as one of the creatures bent down to pick him up, a gust of wind blasted its hand away. An intense squall descended from the open dunes and blew with such force, the golems were forced to take a step back.

Gaara heard the voice of the desert within the gale, heard it sing in elation.

His confused reaction was not allowed to last long.

The ground trembled, quaking with a force so powerful Gaara felt his body bounce upon it. With his ear against the surface, he could hear a distinct and loud rumbling approaching, his mind disbelieving what his senses were telling him.

He could hear the sound of flowing water under the ground.

A moment later, it exploded from under the earth, a great stream bursting several metres above the ground.

Gaara heard the hostile members of the Clan scream in confusion and fear some distance away but his entire focus had been captured by something else entirely.

As the fountain of water dissipated and fell to the earth in a flash of heavy rainfall, Sakura emerged from its core.

Moving with the fluid grace of a feline, she rushed at the nearest stone golem, no hesitation in her step. A single punch and she had deprived the creature of its leg, pulverizing it with the force of her blow.

Despite falling to one side, the construct reacted, swinging its heavy arm at her. She dodged the incoming blow and twisted, punching the golem’s limb as it moved past her. Dust and pebbles went flying in a burst as its arm was destroyed by her fist. The creature fell to the ground and she wasted no time in delivering her coup de grace, stomping on its head and crushing it underneath her foot.

With deliberate purpose, Sakura turned towards the other two golems.

After such an astonishing display, Gaara somehow found the strength to lift himself unto his elbows.

Having lost the element of surprise, the two constructs bore down on her in a coordinated assault. They towered above her, sending a barrage of attacks one after another. But she was too quick for them. She danced around their blows, dodging with such ease Gaara could only liken her movements to flowing water. But the golems kept coming, working together so as to prevent any opening for her to land a punch. As one of them swung at her, the other would appear before her, forcing her to step back or change course.

They were hulky and clumsy creatures, nonetheless. When fighting them, all one had to do was to be patient and make sure to avoid their blows. Their ungainly movements would yield a chance eventually. It seemed Sakura was very much aware of this fact. As long as she continued to move, an opportunity would present itself.

It came in the form of a lumbering kick aimed at her side by one of the golems. She dodged underneath it, sliding across the ground on her knees under the creature’s legs. She aimed a punch right at the hinge of its hip, disintegrating the joint. Deprived of its balance, the golem fell on its side like a tree being cut down. It certainly made a similar clamour when it hit the ground, the boulders that made up its body rattling loudly.

Sakura delivered a kick to its chest, pieces of rock flying every which way as she connected. Its entire torso crumbled and the creature stopped moving.

One left.

With the grace of her movements, she made quick work of it. One punch eliminated its right arm and a perfectly aimed kick pulverized its left calf. The golem fell down to one knee, its head coming level with Sakura’s eyes. As she was standing at its side, she lifted her arm and elbowed it in the ear, the skull-like stone exploding with the force of her blow.

As the golem’s body fell heavily to the ground, Sakura turned towards Gaara’s true assailants. She stood directly between him and them, her fists at the ready.

She was the most magnificent sight Gaara had ever laid eyes on.

His attackers, evidently, did not share his opinion. They shouted in dread and scattered to the four winds.

As they ran, Gaara saw Sakura’s legs twitch. She was contemplating the possibility of following them, no doubt. But to his elation, her caring nature took precedence. Turning his way, she fell into a run.

He stared in wonder as she approached. When she came closer, he noticed a glint in the middle of her forehead. There was a mark there, in the shape of a diamond. It flashed with a different kind of chakra that was still very much hers but that he had never felt before. Somehow, he had the sense she was more herself now than she had been before.

“Gaara,” she said, coming to kneel beside him. “Let me have a look at your wounds.”

But he pushed past his exhaustion and commanded his body to sit up.

“You should lie down and keep still,” she reprimanded.

Although her worry was merited, Gaara would have none of it. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips. Kissing her knuckles, he fixed her eyes on hers.

“You are glorious,” he told her, his voice laden with admiration and a whole array of emotions too intense to properly identify.

Sakura stared at him for a long silent moment before her lips lifted in a splendid smile.

Cupping his cheek with her free hand, she leaned forward and kissed him.

Although before he had been unable to feel pain because of numbness, now he was unable to feel his hurts because of bliss.

Somehow he managed to find the strength to lift his arm and pull her close, allowing her to deepen her kiss. For a moment he believed he had died without realizing it and was now in an afterlife filled with nothing but delight.

He could have gone on kissing her forever but Sakura did not allow it. After what in Gaara’s perception felt like a brief moment, she pulled back.

The wry chuckle she elicited when he groaned in protest was music to his ears. He kept hold of her hand, cradling against his chest.

“You are severely wounded,” she remarked, doing her best to sound stern. “I think your ankle is broken.”

He nodded. “I think a few ribs are broken too.”

Letting out a sigh, Sakura was on the verge of speaking when the desert made itself known.

The sand rose all around them, covering them in a protective cocoon. It swirled happily, its life-energy resonating deep within Gaara’s core. He narrowed his eyes at it, slightly peeved.

“So this is what you had in mind when you asked me to surrender,” he commented sourly.

A tendril detached itself from the wall of sand and took on the shape of a hand. It hovered in front of his face, and before he could do anything about it, it curled a finger and flicked his forehead.

“Ow!” he exclaimed.

The hand dissipated in front of his eyes and he was certain he could hear laughter somewhere in the background.

“What was that all about?” Sakura asked.

He opened his mouth to explain but was not allowed.

Another tendril of sand separated itself from the cocoon and spiralled around Gaara’s arm. He relaxed his fingers so as to release Sakura’s hand as the sand lifted his limb but he found that another tendril was actually pressing their palms together. After a moment, yet more sand flowed towards their joined hands and twirled its way up Sakura’s arm.

“What’s going on?” she asked, slightly nervous.

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smile. “Wait and see.”

The coarse feel of the sand against his skin was soon replaced by a strange tingling. The coiled tendrils swirling round their linked limbs thickened until it covered them completely. Gaara could feel the desert’s joy as it went about its task and his heart could not help but respond in kind.

After long moments, the sand pulled back slowly and the cocoon around them began to dissolve.

Gaara looked down at the exposed skin of his arm and at the marks left by the desert. They coiled round his arm in a series of abstract shapes and they glinted brightly with chakra.

Relief flooded him, followed quickly by profound fulfilment.

“What does this mean, exactly?” Sakura asked, looking in astonishment at the marks left on her arm.

“It means, my fighting nymph,” he told her with satisfaction, “that we have been chosen.”

She blinked a few times, clearly unable to get her head around the full implication of what he had just said.

When she opened her mouth, to ask another question undoubtedly, Gaara did not give her the chance. He pulled her into his arms and fell backwards with a laugh.

Sakura scolded him, told him to be mindful of his ribs, but he was beyond caring at this point. Gaara looked up at the sky and felt his chest fill with the deep gratitude and exultation of having a wish fulfilled.

– XXXXXXXX –

“Are you certain about this?” Gaara asked.

Sakura had managed to strip him down to his under garments and the state of his body had made her gasp inwardly. But she did her best not to show it. Besides, she would make him right as rain soon enough.

“Completely,” she assured him.

“I can’t swim with my ankle like it is.”

“You won’t have to,” she said, standing next to him.

Grimacing slightly as he slid forward on the rock he was sitting on, Sakura finally got him into the water.

She followed him in, and just as she had promised, she commanded the water to hold him up. He floated with his head above the water without him having to exert himself physically. She had also borrowed some of the heat from the nearby stones to warm the pool, adding to his comfort.

Bruises and abrasions covered him completely, and just like he had predicted, more than one bone was broken. Due to the extent of the damage, she had decided it was best for him to receive the full power of her healing ability. Hence, she had asked him to come into the pool. It was going to take all of her skill to be able to patch him up this time and she was certain it would be slow going.

What came as an unexpected surprise, though, was the desert’s help.

Connected to the water as she always was, Sakura became aware of a greater presence behind it. The pool, with its own life-energies, stood on its own but was also a part of this grander essence.

The desert was the whole that contained the parts.

Sakura smiled and felt tears gather behind her eyes. But she forced them back. The task before her would require all of her concentration.

The marks on her arm began to emit a soft rosy glow mixed with jade as she released her chakra. She felt the environs beyond the pool stir and turn their attention towards her. She was startled when she realized she had suddenly become the focus of a vastness beyond description. It was a rather humbling feeling, making her conscious of the sheer immensity of the desert’s awareness.

Nonetheless, she also realized it was holding back. It approached her tentatively, as if given her the chance to get used to it being there.

She smiled wryly at her own expense: if this was the desert being cautious on her behalf, she did not want to think what it was like to receive its full attention.

This was what Gaara communed with all the time?

Although she did not believe it possible, her admiration for him increased once more and Sakura could not help but marvel at his abilities.

The desert held still, as if waiting for her move.

Sakura felt like if it were looking over her shoulder and assessing her handiwork.

So she continued to release her chakra and to tap into the healing essence of the water. Her energies circled Gaara, evaluated his injuries in order to begin with the most pressing. Once she had settled for the ribs on his right side, she began to work alongside the water in order to heal the bone.

The desert took it as its cue to act. It channelled its life-energy through her and Sakura felt her breath catch. The marks on her arm ignited like flames and the capacity of her healing amplified in a way she would have never thought possible. The mix of her chakra with the desert’s vitality allowed her to heal Gaara’s bones in no time. Before she knew it, she was already moving towards the broken ribs on his left side.

Sakura was speechless, unable to comprehend the level of power running through her. Something within her told her she would never be able to grasp it.

So she concentrated on healing Gaara.

She had used her chakra to lull him into a state of semi-consciousness, offering him as much ease as possible. Whenever he stirred in discomfort as she treated a particularly painful injury, she would bring her face close to his and whisper reassurance in his ear. This seemed to do the trick and he would allow himself to be cradled by the water once more.

Every time she offered him tenderness, Sakura became aware of the desert reacting to her actions. It took her a while to realize it was approval.

She smiled, coming to a realization.

‘That’s what we do, isn’t it? We take care of him.’

The vastness answered her.

Never would have Sakura thought that a simple ‘yes’ could feel so overpowering.

Swallowing with emotion, she focused once more on Gaara. With the desert’s help, she was done a lot sooner. All his wounds had been treated and were no longer hurting him. Even though Sakura could have continued to channel her chakra through him, it was best for him to rest and allow his body to heal at its own rhythm from now on.

As she moved back and commanded the water to let him float on the surface, she was aware of the desert pulling away from her. She felt its absence keenly and felt strangely spacious within herself. Getting used to its assistance would undoubtedly take some doing.

Coming to rest on her stomach next to Gaara, Sakura watched him sleep. She caressed his hair lovingly. Soon, she was also lulled into slumber as the events of the day began to take their toll on her.

Night had fallen by the time she woke to the lovely feel of fingers running up and down her back. Sakura opened her eyes only to find herself the focus of a jade stare.

She smiled at him, lifting slightly so she could kiss him gently on the cheek. “How are you feeling?”

His attention turned inward as he assessed his body. “All I feel is a dull ache, particularly around my middle. But it’s completely manageable. Nothing compared to what I was experiencing before.”

“Good,” she replied. Moving her hand over his ribs, channelling her chakra in order to offer him some relief.

As she did so, a hundred questions about the future flashed through her mind. There were so many things she did not know about the Wind Clan and there were so many things she had to tell Gaara about the rediscovery of her lost power. There were countless details she wanted to share with him about her experience. She was certain he felt the same way concerning the end of the Sand Roam and the desert’s choice.

Before she became overwhelmed, Sakura pulled back from the frenzy of her thoughts. She had the perfect role model in front of her and it was best to follow his example.

Deal with things as they came and take it one step at a time.

Once she was done with his ribs, Sakura turned her face towards him only to find him grinning.

“What is it?” she asked, unsure of the source of his merriment.

“You have finally proved you are a true nymph.”

Sakura arched an eyebrow.

Gaara lifted his hand, bringing it up to stroke her cheek. “You finally deprived me of my clothing, pulled me into the water, and had your way with me.”

Despite herself, she laughed. “So I have.”

“So she admits it,” he countered. “Too bad I was unconscious while you were running your hands all over my body. Now that would have been an experience.”

With a wide smile, Sakura leaned closer to his face, her lips brushing his chin. “I’ll make sure you’re wide awake the next time I have my way with you.”

His jade eyes sparkled with desire. “Well, I’m wide awake now.”

“You’re recovering from full body injuries, not to mention five broken ribs.”

“There’s no time like the present.”

She shook her head at him.

“Am I to become the first person to leave a nymph’s pool without being ravished?” he asked, downcast.

“Who says you’re leaving?”

She leaned down into him and kissed him.

Gaara lifted his arms to pull her closer, returning the kiss deeply, but as Sakura brushed against his side, he winced.

Pulling back, she looked down at him with a deadpan stare. “My point has been duly proven.”

“Fine,” Gaara capitulated. “But you won’t deprive me of this.” He pulled her down and settled her against his him.

Sakura carefully wrapped her arms around him, over and under the water, and they floated together in tangle of limbs, effortlessly suspended.

Despite his bluster, Gaara was soon drifting back to sleep.

Sakura snuggled her cheek against his chest, relishing in the closeness. It made her heart sing and she felt the water all around them respond.

Stirring, Gaara cracked open an eye. “Do you hear them?” he asked drowsily.

“What?”

“The chimes of your joy,” he replied, smiling widely before succumbing once more to slumber.

Sakura lifted slightly to kiss him fully on the lips.

“Yes, I hear them, my love,” she whispered. “But they’re not mine. They’re ours.”

Taking hold of his hand, Sakura linked their marked arms together before turning towards the dark heavens above them. The myriad stars of the endless desert sky shone brightly and she basked in their brightness, all the while listening to the sound of bells ringing in the night.

[davidmann95]

This weeks comics?

So much to cover, and just so we’re all clear upfront, SPOILERS ahead.

Sideways Annual #1: I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to forgive the cover for simply reading “All-out Action, guest-starring Superman” rather than the declaration of “The Champion of the Oppressed is BACK–JUST WHEN THE WORLD NEEDS HIM MOST!” it demanded, but otherwise what a delightful comic. It’s a mess in so many ways given Morrison’s working with what DiDio laid down for him (which he seems to demonstrate hilarious contempt for when he almost literally drops a bridge on the no-hoper who’d been set up as the arc villain before he can do anything) and jumping on mid-stream to boot, but it’s basically just an extended excuse for him to put dialogue in Superman and the Seven Soldiers’ mouths again and remind everyone how rad his takes on them are, and thereby shame us for abandoning the former. Plus give us a taste of what his voice for Spider-Man would be, which it turns out is a perfectly fine one in spite of his past professed skepticism that he could pull it off. And above all to assure us with a smile and the proper send-off (a particularly satisfying one for me personally given my arachnophobia) we never got before that even if we never see our pal cop-punching, bank-busting, casual Fridays Superman again, he’ll be out there, along with all the other cast-off good Superman ideas, helping out wherever he can.

Also, who else caught the nudge and wink about the Tailor, and how that tells devoted Seven Soldiers fans just how much of role Morrison really played in saving his take on Superman?

Batman #60: Batman is…Batman is weird lately. I honestly don’t have anything else to say about this issue, except that the bit with Alfred cleaning was obviously killer.

The Unexpected #6: So Ronan Cliquet is bad, right? Like, we can all agree that dude is just bringing nothing to the table? I’ve never seen pages so plain look so simultaneously cramped and barren. This book has been such a damn disappointment: clearly promises were made about how much space Orlando would have to work on this that have been entirely broken, he’s cutting past what was clearly intended to be dozens of issues of buildup and fleshing-out of the concept to the grand finale, and he’s already obviously and understandably checked out. This should have been one of those “hey, you never heard of _____, but it was quietly one of DC’s best books for awhile there!” titles you learn about 20 years after the fact, but it was stillborn and unable to explore even the slightest sliver of its potential. It’s almost reached a point where it can make me think its coming conclusion is a mercy killing, but then, said conclusion is the problem.

Justice League #11: The debut of the Super-eyepatch! Otherwise, while it’s definitely not my favorite issue thus far of Snyder’s Justice League, it might be the one that feels the most well-realized in terms of getting his vision on the page thanks to Francis Manapul. I desperately hope he sticks on the book past Drowned Earth, because as much as I absolutely love what Jorge Jimenez and Jim Cheung are doing, his vision feels the most in line with the, as Snyder put it, ‘magisterial’ tone this title is going for a lot of the time.

The Green Lantern #1: Not my favorite Morrison title of the week in spite of its lack of clutter and outside influence, to the point where I’d honestly say it initially left me pretty cold, but much as with Morrison’s last major #1 in Action Comics, a reread did wonders for me once I knew what sort of tone I’d be grappling with. I do think it was oddly structured in a way that didn’t benefit it, leading with the mundane-flavored-with-cosmic with the alien beat cops rather than Hal’s more grounded perspective leading into the awe-inspiring, but given it sets up an immediate contrast with his ‘civilian life’, I’d call it a calculated risk that didn’t quite pay off. Hal himself is interestingly realized, this blunt, bored dude who only really comes alive when he’s on the clock, who’s as hyper-competent at his job as you’d think the Greatest Green Lantern Of Them All would be but almost seems to be sleepwalking through his days. It’s when we reach Oa with the mission statement for the Corps that the book really comes together, meshing up the beautiful design sense, an evocation of some of Morrison’s past recurring themes and elements, and raw high concept into the most powerful evocation of the basic idea of Green Lantern’s Deal I’ve ever read. And Liam Sharp mostly does justice by it; I know some find his style off-putting and his anatomy wonky, but he sells the what-if-GL-was-a-2000AD-strip sensibility, and his work has a framing and structure and a tangible, doughy 3Dishness that recalls the flavor of some of Morirson’s best prior collaborations. Not that, to be clear, I don’t think plenty of those prior collaborators couldn’t have done a much better job with this, but I think this’ll pan out just fine.

On top of that a couple minor notes: I suspect David Uzumeri might have been right regarding the possibility that this could be the book where Morrison delves into the basic question of whether superheroes are by nature cops, and thereby police brutality (Maxim Tox and Hal himself both have some startlingly severe moments in here) and the moral feasibility of the whole business. Rather than rethinking his process in his time away, Morrison’s storytelling tics are as prominently on display here as just about anything he’s ever done. And I was genuinely shocked to see the acknowledgement of Manhattan in here - a landmark chapter in The Last War In Albion in the making if ever there was one - right alongside addressing Snyder’s Justice League, making this to my knowledge the only book in the company’s lineup to acknowledge both contenders to the throne of DC’s current actual Important Cosmic-Scale Story. I suppose Lantern is the place where that makes sense, but both bring interesting elements of their own, as with the Source Wall Morrison’s going right on in and acknowledging how other creators have brought his ideas and spirit to the forefront of the DCU in the last several years, and with Manhattan, having a Grant Morrison DC Comic acknowledge the presence of Watchmen characters as parts of the grand scheme of things makes that whole bizarre business feel real in a way even Doomsday Clock itself hasn’t for me.

Adventures of the Super Sons #4: What a charmer! I harped a lot on Pete Tomasi by and large sucking on Superman, because by and large he sucked on Superman, but put that dude on just the right project to play into his strengths and he absolutely shines.

The Dreaming #3: Wound up in my pull file since I’d unsubscribed so recently, and decided to give it one last chance. It’s pretty and confident in what it’s doing and I’m sure lots of people are rightfully getting a lot out of it, but I’m not one of them and it won’t be getting another shot.

Border Town #3: It feels odd to think this given how much positive attention it’s been getting and how well it’s sold for a modern Vertigo book, but Border Town absolutely still feels like the sleeper hit of 2018. It so feels like the sort of comic that I usually can acknowledge the quality of but doesn’t do it for me personally, so I keep picking it up expecting to not quite gel with a given issue, but each time I’m dead damn wrong. It’s brimming with energy and personality on every level, and it’s still early enough that I can’t possibly recommend enough that anyone who hasn’t given it a chance yet jump onboard.

The Wicked + The Divine: The Funnies: Speaking of titles that I can acknowledge the quality of but rarely do it for me, I’ve followed W + D from the beginning on the understanding that the fairly subdued joys I take from it on a month-by-month basis will be eclipsed by the scale of my love for it on a full reread, as was the case with the team’s Young Avengers. But boy did this one buck that trend, because it was a hoot. Honestly couldn’t tell you which was my favorite short, because like half the book is made up of front-runners.

Death of the Inhumans #5: Because Death of Some Inhumans, But Don’t Worry Not Any of the Good Ones, Other than Maximus wouldn’t have shifted as much copy. Donny Cates is establishing himself as a solid mid-tier superhero writer alongside your Tim Seeleys and James Tynions, and Ariel Olivetti’s a treat, but I have to call this one a miss.

Shatterstar #2: As I expected it didn’t grab me as much as the first issue since the tenants aren’t front-and-center, but I’m still digging it to a truly startling extent!

Marvel Knights #1: Okay? I mean, I liked it (aside from the unbelievably poorly-chosen ‘I can sort of see even though I’m blind’ line - had to be a dozen better ways of putting that), but aside from that it’s gritty and involves some of the characters with notable history in the imprint, I have no idea why this is the Marvel Knights 20th Anniversary book as opposed to just a random Marvel miniseries that I suppose could be published under that imprint if you wanted. The conceit feels so odd for the intended purpose.

The Immortal Hulk #8: This book is SO FUCKING GOOD ALL OF THE TIME AT EVERYTHING AND YOU ALL NEED TO BUY IT AND TELL YOUR FRIENDS ABOUT IT. CHRIST. Still the best super-shit on the stands.

DC Nation #6: Yanick Paquette needs to write Batman explaining science so as to teach us how to better fight crime for as long as he lives, if not in fact longer.

[chelsfic]

Orc OC/Human OFC Bright fanfic Part 3/?

Part One | Part Two

A/N: Did you ever set out to write smut and end up getting caught up in a whole bunch of plot instead? What gives? More plot! More angst! Mentions drinking and drugs.

You were understandably downtrodden as you stood outside the club the following night waiting to be let in by the bouncer. You couldn’t get Ray’s cruel words out of your head.

Andrea saw the faraway look in your sad eyes and intervened, “Girl! What are you worrying about? We’re here to have fun, remember? Do you remember what ‘fun’ is?”

She could always make you smile even when you were still feeling like shit from being demeaned by your crush. You filled her in on what happened with Ray as you waited.

“Hmm…” she looked thoughtful. “So...first he comes on to you--No, don’t argue, he was coming on to you with that stroking your arm business, come on!--then he tells you to stay away from the party and that you don’t belong...Tricky.”

“Not really,” you frown. “He hates me.”

The club is dark and noisy when you finally make it inside. But you’re relieved to see a couple familiar faces from your building and from the clinic. It really did seem like the entire neighborhood had turned out. You were glad Andrea forced you to come. You flashed her a grateful smile, determining to enjoy yourself and forget about Ray.

Your first stop was the bar located in the back furthest from a low stage where an orcish band was performing before a heaving mosh pit. You shouted your drink orders at the young human bartender and scanned the crowd. There were several hulking orcs wearing clan colors moving toward the bar but you didn’t see Ray. Not that you were looking for him. Because you had determined to forget about him and his mean words for the evening.

Andrea poked you in the ribs, “I know what you’re doing! Forget about him for a while and have fun.”

You laughed and accepted your vodka tonic from the bartender, taking a sip from the skinny straw.

“You’re right,” you conceded, adding with a tinge of your trademark social anxiety, “Let’s mingle.”

***

Ray was *not* looking for Georgia. He was just keeping an eye on things like he always did. As one of Dorghu’s enforcers it was his responsibility to make sure no one got out of line at the block party. He could have fun himself, as evidenced by the frosty beer in his hand, but he had to stay alert for trouble. That’s why he was studying the face of every human who happened to wander near him, not because he was waiting for his annoying neighbor to show up.

He stationed himself on a low couch with his buddies, Raz and Jimmy. Raz was pretty high and not saying much. Jimmy was getting a lewd lap dance from an orc chick. So Ray was free to scan the crowd without interruption. When he finally spotted her she was standing not far away with another female and a couple of human guys who looked like assholes. He watched as she laughed at something one of them said and felt a hot wave of irritation go through him. Without making a conscious decision he got up and moved over to them.

***

Not long after you moved off from the bar Andrea bumped into a couple of guys she’d met here before. You formed a little group standing in relative safety on the outskirts of the pit. The guys were kind of boring and you found yourself continually distracted from their conversation, preferring to people watch. The party was so loud you had to shout to be heard over the music, but you found that the chaos gave you a nice sense of anonymity. You rolled with it, laughing when you were supposed to laugh and otherwise letting Andrea steer the conversation.

You were distracted again, staring at the bodies writhing violently in the mosh pit and wondering how that was fun. A shadow fell over you from behind. You turned to find yourself facing a broad orcish chest clad in the black and orange colors of a Fogteeth jersey. You craned your neck back and saw Ray’s narrowed, molten eyes staring down at you with his usual glare. He was standing so close you could feel the heat of his body on your skin. He towered over you and you felt trapped, yet again, in his gaze. You were starting to become addicted to this feeling of being under his sway.

“Um...hi, Ray,” you said, cool as always.

The conversation around you stuttered to a halt at his arrival. You could feel Andrea’s eyes boring like laser beams through your skull but you refused to look over at her for fear that this spell would break.

Ray cleared his throat before asking, “Buy you a drink?”

You had the distinct sensation that your butt had fallen off. A thrill of nervous excitement blossomed in your belly and you finally allowed yourself a glance to Andrea, asking with your eyes if it was cool to abandon the group for a while. She nodded so violently you thought her head might snap off.

You turned back to Ray and nodded in agreement, suddenly too shy for words. He led you back to the bar with a huge hand just brushing the small of your back. People made way before him and you wondered how high up he actually was in the clan. Even other orcs lowered their gaze respectfully to him. Once at the bar he ordered you another vodka tonic and a beer for himself.

“So,” he had to lean down with his tusked mouth inches from your ear to be heard over the racket. “What do you think of the party?”

The question sounded like a challenge and you stared at him for a few seconds trying to gauge what he was looking for before just responding truthfully, “It’s...loud!”

He let out a bark of laughter at your answer and took a swig of beer, “Come on.”

He led you back to a couch along the opposite wall. This spot was a little less crowded than the rest of the club. You took a seat on the end and he sat down next to you, his weight collapsing the cushions around him so that you rolled into his side. You laughed nervously and wiggled away a bit, but left your thigh brushing up against his. Your cheeks flushed a bright red at the closeness and you clutched your drink like a life preserver.

Ray seemed to be enjoying your discomfort, which escalated exponentially when you glanced behind him and saw that the other couple on the couch was engaged in a pretty explicit make out session. You snapped your gaze back to Ray and found him smirking at you.

“What!?” you demanded.

He smiled and it made him look so young and pure, “You. You’re so shocked. It’s hilarious. This is not where you belong.”

His words, though spoken in a light tone, knocked you down a bit as you recalled the way he’d spoken to you the night before.

“Yeah,” you answered, eyes downcast. “You said that before…”

***

Ray scented the girl’s sadness and closed his eyes for a moment in frustration. He couldn’t get things right with this human for some reason. He leaned down close to her face to make sure she could hear him over the music. Human hearing (along with their other senses) was so dull. This close he could feel her scent envelope him in an intoxicating cloud.

“Georgia, I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I just meant that there are a lot of rough people here tonight and you seem so...fucking innocent.”

It took something from his pride to admit this, but he couldn’t stand her sadness. When he’d first met her he figured her for another human snob hoping to raise her own opinion of herself by slumming in an orc neighborhood. Now he knew her to be disarmingly sincere and he was starting to find her cheerfulness endearing rather than annoying. She was like this little precious flower that he couldn’t bear to watch being trampled even as he saw the shadow of a foot block out the sun above her.

His words seemed to calm her and he felt her lean into him again as she finished the last few drops of her drink. She smiled up at him, her eyes glittering, and he wondered how much of a head for alcohol she had.

***

The night went on and you were so happy. Ray didn’t hate you! You sat, perched almost in his lap with one arm looped over his shoulder. Never in a million years would you be so forward and daring but for the bravery you’d purchased with alcohol. Two drinks was enough to get you tipsy and when Andrea appeared holding tequila shots you were well and truly on your way to being drunk. But it didn’t matter because Ray liked you!

When you were drunk you found everything hilarious. You were regaling Andrea with the story of the Night of the Cookies, periodically nudging Ray to weigh in on his perspective, when the atmosphere of the club shifted suddenly. It was difficult to describe, like the weird silence before your ears popped in high elevation. There was a lull and everyone’s mood turned serious and then a man was lunging at you with a knife. It all happened so fast. He smashed into you full force, grabbing you around the waist and tossing you to the ground. He was clearly targeting Ray, but in the process he’d managed to gauge his knife into your forearm and slice through the delicate skin. You howled in pain as you fell to the floor.

Three orcs came out of nowhere and descended on the guy before he could get his knife into Ray. In no time at all the man was pinned to the floor next to you with a heavy orcish knee jammed into his upper back to keep him in place. You watched it all happen in a state of shock, clutching your bleeding arm to your chest and starting to shake. Dimly you could hear Andrea’s voice calling your name, but she sounded far away.

[tyrantisterror]

Well Made Futility: Infinity War Thoughts

I saw Infinity War for a second time and have some thoughts.  SPOILERish thoughts, so, y’know, a cut here for the sake of those who care about such things.

I mean, I actually think this movie is better if you know what you’re in for going in, but I’m weird so what do I know.

So like... Infinity War is fucking difficult to evaluate.  It’s a movie that does something completely unprecedented in film - while we all enjoyed joking about it, no single movie crossover has attempted to weave this many VERY different stories, characters, and (especially) tones into one coherent narrative before.  It is a crossover unlike any other in film.  And it’s mostly successful!

but

I know we all like to dunk on Marvel’s films because they’re popular and make a lot of money, and all of us have an inner hipster who hates things that are successful regardless of their actual quality or content, because fuck that man we’re not normies we only like things BEFORE they’re cool.  But as a person who loves “genre” fiction - i.e. Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror, anything that isn’t set in standard reality - the Marvel movies have been kind of revolutionary.  Genre films had gotten so LIMITED before Iron Man, and it was stupidly limited at that.  We could accept that a billionaire fury who punches criminals could walk into a police department without making everyone burst into laughter, but we couldn’t accept that a strange chemical bath would permanently bleach a clown-turned-criminal’s skin.  We could accept a guy getting powers from a spider OR a guy being really good at science but not both. We could accept a guy growing claws out of his hands, but god help you if that man also wears something other than black skintight leather.  Everything had to be “grounded” and “real”, and I put quotations marks around those words because what they REALLY meant in the context of Hollywood was “boring.”

but

And then Marvel slowly chipped away at that.  Not at first - Iron Man and The Hulk were about as restrained as the superhero movies that preceded them, but slowly the movies conditioned us to accept weird shit.  Thor brought in Norse mythology and a certain kind of magic, although they dressed it up as “advanced science”, because we were in a transition and that was a concession they could make.  Captain America took us out of modern day - a risky idea, period piece action movies are never a sure thing - and also introduced the idea of a serum that can turn you into either the ULTIMATE BEEFCAKE or a red skinned skeleton man depending on your moral compass, which is PRETTY FUCKING WEIRD when you think about it.

but

Then The Avengers happened.  Before that movie came out, every conventional Hollywood line of thinking told us it would fail.  Movies with multiple heroes don’t succeed.  That’s why Batman and Robin sucked, right - too many heroes?  And Batman and Robin, why, that’s the worst film ever!  Spiderman 3 had too many villains!  You can’t have more than two super powered guys in a movie - that’s just movie law!  Having more than two super power guys is box office poison.

but

But The Avengers wasn’t.  Maybe most of you don’t remember it because we’ve had 10 years of these Marvel movies and their success seems like an inescapable fact now, but The Avengers defied expectations by being both good AND a box office success - a ridiculously lucrative one at that!  The Avengers took a huge fucking risk and it paid off.

but

Then it happened again.  People assumed The Avengers was as weird as you could go.  Critics were CERTAIN these movies would peter out eventually, that they couldn’t keep doing the impossible.  One of these risks had to doom them.  And a lot of critics looked at one movie on the post The Avengers slate - Guardians of the Galaxy - and said, “That’s the one - that’s gonna be the turd.  A movie about a talking raccoon and a tree monster - two RIDICULOUS character concepts that sound more like jokes than something a studio would actually put in their action movie - along with some d-listers no one but hardcore nerds care about, all directed by a guy best known for gore-filled low budget b movies?  That’s going to kill Marvel.  There is no way that film can be good, much less a financial success.”

but

Guardians of the Galaxy was not just good, but it’s the best series within the franchise.   Yeah, fuckin’ fight me on it nerds.  (no actually don’t I’m voicing a subjective opinion in this paragraph I don’t actually give a shit about ranking movies like this)

but

Even when their movies weren’t game changers, they were still solid and fun.  Whether or not they’re your cup of tea, Marvel’s superhero movies are never worse than “good.”  Some of them are “great.”  Some, like The Avengers, Guardians of the Galaxy, and Black Panther, are arguably transformatively great.  At the very least, these films taken as a collective whole have changed the way we approach Genre Films.  They have redefined what is possible - they reminded Hollywood that suspension of disbelief is a malleable thing, even if some studios haven’t quite grasped the concept yet.

but

Which brings me back to Infinity War.  Like The Avengers before it, Infinity War brings different characters from many different stories with many different tones and styles and, to an extent, genres/subgenres, and blends them into a coherent and emotionally resonate whole.  It requires you to have seen at least the majority of the previous DECADES worth of movies to work, but that’s not a flaw - no more than, say, the twentieth chapter of a novel requiring you to read the previous 19 at any rate.  Infinity War needs those previous films to function, and to its credit, it not only uses what they built, but does so in genuinely surprising ways.  You didn’t think you needed a Rocket Raccoon/Thor team up in your life, but this movie proves you did.  You also didn’t think you’d see Rocket Raccoon genuinely reach out to Thor (who, to him, is a relative stranger) and try to help him through his grief, but it happens, and it’s a legitimately interesting moment that movies both characters forward in their respective arcs.  This movie is more than just taking a bunch of toys out of a toybox and smashing them together (though yes, there are parts of it that are very much that - these are action adventure movies, after all).  Characters develop and bounce off each other in glorious and meaningful ways.  There is a weight to everything beyond the obvious, mercenary Hollywood mandate to make as much money as possible by getting fans of all these different franchises into one theater.

but

The movie even tries to rectifies some of the franchise’s most notable flaws, in particular their lack of decent villains.  You could count the number of actually compelling and interesting villains from the previous 18 films on one hand.  Thanos, the big bad of this film, finally gets us to the other palm.  His motives are understandable but NOT justified - that is to say, you can understand why a person may believe what he believes, but at the end of the film you know for a fact he’s wrong.  Thanos is a bad guy whose evil plan will destroy countless lives, but he manages not to be the cartoonish caricature of a villain whose over the top “destroy the world” motivation makes no sense.  It’s nuanced, is my point.  I don’t think he’s the best Marvel has offered us - he wouldn’t crack my top three just yet - but he’s miles above most of the competition.

BUT

So here’s the crux of my review.  When I got to the ending of the movie - an ending that, admittedly, I spoiled for myself ahead of time, because I do that for most movies ever since I got majorly burned by Jurassic Park III when I was a teen - I couldn’t stop thinking about it, because it’s... it’s a paradox.  Not just the ending, either, but the whole movie.  This is a film that both does and doesn’t work.  It is both an amazing feat and... and fundamentally broken.

And it all has to do with those 18 films before it.

Ok, so: if taken as its own story, that is to say, as just it’s own thing, not the part of a greater whole... then the ending of Infinity War is exactly the ending this story needed.  This is Thanos’s story more than anyone else’s, when you get right down to it, and from the perspective that this movie is meant to tell his story and his story alone, the ending is the only one that would fit.  Thanos gets everything he wants, at the cost of everything that mattered to him.  His crazed vision finally comes true, and the audience feels the full weight of how horrible that is. That ending - that maddening, confounding ending, where almost every hero we’ve come to love over 18 goddamn films is killed with the snap of his fingers - shows us exactly why we can’t let monsters like Thanos come to power, and how even the monsters like Thanos himself are destroyed by following those mad dreams through (a point reinforced by the cameo of a long forgotten past villain, Red Skull).

However, as I said before, you really CAN’T take this movie on its own.  Structurally it DEPENDS on you seeing those previous films.  You have to have seen them just for this movie to make sense, and to be emotionally affected by it you must also have cared about those movies and their characters.  This movie is a sum of those parts.

And as a followup to those 18 films - as a part of their greater whole - it fails.  So many characters we followed and love - Black Panther, Spider-Man, every fucking guardian of the galaxy except Rocket and maybe Nebula if we count her, just to name a few - is killed off in a literal instant.  With the exception of Loki, each of these deaths kind of renders their preceding journey pointless.  Peter Parker was just starting his journey in his preceding film - so was Black Panther, so was Dr. Strange, so were many of the others.  Imagine if Hamlet was killed in act 1 of his play - everything about him would be unresolved, and all of his supporting cast would have no anchor to the plot since the conflict they’re involved in is removed with Hamlet’s death.  You’d have to start over.  Other characters are farther along, but with rare exception, none of them had what could be called a satisfactory end.  If the deaths in this movie actually hold true, then most of the preceding 18 movies have been broken.  They are wastes of time.

Of course, a savvy person would note that literally every character killed in this movie has been cast in the next Avengers film, due out next year.  Spider-Man and the Guardians have announced movies with release dates after that one, too.  Black Panther’s sequel has been announced although the release date has not.  These deaths are highly unlikely to stick.

BUT if that’s the case, well... then this movie’s broken again, because now that ending has no weight.  Now that ending is pointless - in fact, this whole movie is, because it’s all just going to be undone by the next.  Either this film was a narrative waste of time, or the preceding 18 were.  There’s no other option.

...but...

There is, I suppose, a possibility.  A faint one, admittedly - I have no idea if they can achieve it.  There’s a possibility the fourth Avengers film could find a way to make this movie’s weight hold while still putting all those dead characters’ stories back on track.  Infinity War was conceived as a two part film story, after all, even if they dropped the “Part 1″ label come release.  No matter how much this film wants you to think otherwise, it is just part of whole - and maybe, just maybe, the second one will make the first work WITHIN that whole.

I don’t see how it can, but then, I didn’t see how they could make me care about fuckin’ Rocket Raccoon.  And Guardians of the Galaxy is, as I said, the best one.

If I were a betting man, I’d bet on this movie ultimately being a narrative cul de sac - a very well made, but ultimately pointless entry that is invalidated by what comes after it.  If that ends up being the case, then that’s kind of sad - but there’s a chance they may make it work after all, and if I’ve learned anything, it’s not to bet against Marvel.

[vaguely-gestures-to-the-void]

Hindsight: My thoughts on Loki (2021)

Spoilers below. Please correct me if I slip up. I am in no way shape or form educated on ANYTHING to do with the making of films, how to critique this stuff etc, this is all just my opinion. If I haven’t covered a scene, it’s probably because it’s already been covered much better than I can. This is my extended episode 1 review.

Episode 1: GLORIOUS PURPOSE

Pre-title scene

The scene titles looking like a train station combined with the scrolling through time is such a cool stylistic choice.

The music is familiar, but followed by an alternate shot of Loki as Cap. A different perspective of something known, how fitting. FYI, I’m going to mention music a lot.

Love how no one questions the Hulk terrifying people.

This is the last time Loki will hear Thor call his name, or speak to him. Oh darn, I made myself sad.

Marvel studios logo

The Marvel logo changing colours + Loki theme finally taking the centre stage. I love it.

The comments made on Loki soundtrack videos saying ‘I see that the Mandalorian soundtrack has become a genre’ are so accurate it hurts. Shout out to Ludwig btw, he deserves all the awards for his soundtracks.

My thoughts so far: This part is setting up the general shift in tone from what we’ve seen in past Marvel projects, even the other shows. It reaffirms the audience’s subconscious that whilst we are familiar with the characters, there’s new twists up ahead, subtle hints to oncoming mischief. Props to the entire team behind the series.

Gobi Desert Scene

As much as I liked the opening bug crawl, the following interactions look a bit CGId. I’m being picky, they really are gorgeous. It’s also difficult after having seen the Mandalorian, but that show really paid attention to scenery as it was an instrumental part of the story, whereas here it’s just one scene and all the others are stunning.

The parallels to Tony in the desert. Loki immediately rips off the muzzle (?).

I just watched the scene and yes, Tony rips off the mask immediately.

Also I think I would have definitely had a crush on young RDJ.

And Gwyneth Paltrow (GOOP LADY) if I didn’t know her now.

Props to Tom Hiddleston’s acting. Loki’s face when he sits up is just pure confusion but with the signature hint of indignation that I’d expect from his characterisation at this point.

The rock lmao.

THE MUSIC WHEN B-15 (MY QUEEN) APPEARS. HELL YEAH!

Also props to the supporting cast of minutemen, where does Marvel find these people? They’re so well choreographed, they all move perfectly and it’s a joy to watch.

Love the time doors honestly.

I couldn’t have been the only one who thought that the temp pads were Samsung phones for a sec right?

Lol is that unintentional foreshadowing about the TVA? Jk I’m just clowning.

Has anyone spoken about what the Temp pad showed?

My theory is that ‘Units’ refer to a predetermined rate of change [e.g. m/s] where one unit = one increment of change.

The steady rate of change here is interesting. I’ll talk about it more at the end of the next episode.

I love the music, just the slow ticking increasing in pace and the dramatic flares brought on by the strings (I think), simply divine. Natalie Holt got it spot on and props to Tom Hiddleston and literally everyone involved for understanding the importance of good music with this series. I’ll talk about this in depth in the next episode, just wanted to mention it when it first started that I noticed.

In retrospect, I can definitely retract my critique of the background in the scene. It holds up well now that I’ve rewatched it.

B-15 doesn’t get enough love. Shout out to Wunmi Mosaku, she’s a trooper and I’m here to hype her up.

Also y'all I just checked the cast list and ???? Mark Ruffalo, Jeremy Renner and Tessa Thompson are on it?????? MARVEL TF IS THIS WHAT TOM MEANT BY EP 4 BEING WILD I-

Tom’s acting chops: The face moment. You know the one. It’s pretty incredible.

Theory from me: the reason that Loki doesn’t see the hit coming is because B15 was moving unnaturally fast.

It’s the immediate change in the music to reflect the audience’s reaction at the standard fight scene taking a strange turn for me lads.

B-15 doesn’t smile, which I think is in character for her.

She’s seen this shit wayyyy too many times.

We’re not even five minutes into the first ep and a) I’ve waffled this much, Gods, and b) the music has changed at least 3?? Times to reflect what’s happening. I love it.

My theory about resetting the timeline: the reset charges get rid of anything in the immediate vicinity of the branch, pretty much a mini-apocalypse of the timeline. If everything is erased, none of it matters. Does that make sense?

Taking away the Tesseract while yes, it serves a purpose with showing Loki the might of the TVA later on, also reflects how nitpicky the TVA are about their time-keeping. They do everything in a very orderly fashion, but as we see later, the outdated nature of things is very human.

The TVA - the elevator thing

Man I love the TVA’s look. Someone (and I’ve heard that Kate Herron was also very particular about the set design) went to extraordinary lengths with every single scene, not just this one, but the one before as well.

Heck I just want to appreciate how much of a visual feast this series is. Good on ‘em.

The shots changing angle is also very interesting. They switch it up between one-takes, close-ups of differing extremities and it just keeps the flow fast-paced, ya know?

Watching Loki run was hilarious.

“Sounds dumb.” - Casey, Null Time Zone.

This weird robot is what I think of when the TVA is mentioned. Advanced tech mimicking a retroistic 70s feel.

The cat’s adorable.

The clock. The cup. The placing of props. Impeccable.

The clock’s hands don’t move whilst they’re on screen.

The realisation on his face when he eyes the stack of papers.

Why is the wall so badly scratched???

I love that the signature is in character. I have a huge thing for attention to detail lmao.

Again, why are all of the walls so scratched? If they could talk, I’d presume it’s just a set design choice but it’s interesting that they did that.

Does anyone else want a TVA sweater vest?

Tickets

The opening zoom in on Loki combined with the consistent brown-orange colours of the set makes the room look uniform and encompassing. I love how the lights are always placed in a repetitive manner so rooms are given the illusion that they go on forever.

Lighting here creates depth, but whilst the lights form a ceiling, we can’t actually see how they’re suspended and I think that’s neat.

The posters. Yes.

This is the first time I noticed the different minutemen uniforms. This one’s half orange-red and black. Pretty cool imo.

Shout out to Tara Strong and the entire animation.

The butterfly was a nice hint to the butterfly effect, and the music is perfect as always.

The wooden walls in the background of this shot. How very 70s.

The reflection showing the guy getting pruned is pretty cool.

Again, another clock with no movement on the wall.

The first 11 minutes are up and we’ve made it to the title! If you’ve read this far, congrats.

1549 Aix-en-provence, France

Just speculating, we’re in a church with an initial high-angled nearly bird’s eye view and then a cut to one looking up at Mobius. I guess it means even if we think as viewers our perspective is omniscient, we’re not spared from the mystery in this series.

Who’s in the stained glass window?

I love how they tie in a detail as small as the gum. It just goes to show when you haven’t got much time, every character interaction is meaningful.

Props to Owen Wilson, he really sold Mobius to me.

Mirrors in a church showing the devil behind Mobius. Or on his side.

Time court 37

The time court 37 really reminds me of train stations.

The chairs remind me of pews. They sure are reverent of the Time keepers.

The lighting is a cool, bluish tinge for the first time I’ve noticed. Especially on Ravonna (MY LOVE!).

B-15 knows Loki’s clowning lmaooo.

Ravonna isn’t here for it either.

Ravonna’s nailpolish is a very nice shade of brown.

Theory: Resetting is ‘being brainwashed for the TVA’. Not very original, but it’s interesting that the TVA thinks that Loki would be useful as a worker, unlike the guy who got pruned earlier.

The TVA exterior is amazing. It also extends forever in all directions, even down.

Time Theatre 25

What is that elevator music??

“I thought you didn’t like to talk” Ragnarok, anyone?

Loki reading the ‘Time theatre’ sign whilst rambling. Gotta give it to him, he’s always aware of his surroundings.

The little TVA logo on Mobius’ shirt.

Shout out to whoever did the costuming. Personally, I liked the shirts with no collars, and the armour of the minutemen and Hunters came off to me as practical but not ignorant of the branding that the TVA likes.

Theory (bear with me): Once you’re a part of the TVA, you’re not collared anymore, though there is an appearance of that on the shirts.

Seriously tho, what are those shirts like? Mobius doesn’t have a collar.

Why do the ties just… end?

Neat details:

Holo projector 35.

The lights being reminiscent of skylights but still leaving the characters in the dark. “The sun will shine on us again, brother.” Not yet.

The reflection of the projector in the table/on the ground.

Loki: *turns away.*

Mobius: *sips Josta.*

Seriously, the lighting is great. Loki moving in and out of the shadows? Great way to show his mistrust/ unease of the situation.

The illusion speech is the last time we really hear 2012 Loki in my eyes, mainly because Mobius really gets into the cracks of who Loki is and then there’s action.

The ‘I was- I am” Freudian slip is perfection.

Side note the music’s changed yet again. It’s definitely setting up the more mournful tones for seeing his mother’s death.

I find it interesting that the door is partially in the shadows.

Doors are symbols of opportunities, barriers and both death and birth from what I remember of high school English.

From what I know in interrogations the person being interrogated is allowed to sit with their back to a door. Initially, both Loki and Mobius are sideways, equidistant from the door. When Loki wants to run, he edges closer to the door, even if it is just to make a point. Excellent blocking in my eyes.

Oh man, Mobius’ little gestures.

“Always so perceptive about everyone but yourself.” I really don’t have to talk about the significance of that line, do I?

Frigga being stabbed in the back. Little solace to a dead man? Ouch. That hurt me too.

Loki’s wounds heal unnaturally fast, because he’s no mortal.

Mobius really drives home the last point. Who says ‘like you did your mother” ??? Owen sold how Mobius can influence Loki's mind.

The ‘best versions of themselves' line and showing Thor must have hit Loki hard. He spent two movies trying to prove who he is, measuring himself against Thor. And then he sees them both working together and being equals.

Loki’s escape

Wunmi and Owen’s line delivery is unforced and charged, completely in character.

Mobius looking under the table is hilarious to me.

The music.

The tidy cubicle = healthy timeline is a bit contradictory because they’re supposedly in the null time zone but okay.

Is no one going to mention the taxidermy ferret?

Loki just had an identity crisis. His ‘gut you like a fish’ seems in character.

The dude’s really questioning everything he knows lmao.

Casey’s ‘what’s a fish’ was really our first hint that not everything is what it seems to be at the TVA.

It amuses me that Loki’s on his knees when he gets the Tesseract.

I’m sure someone’s pointed it out already, but given that Loki takes back the Time Twister, it’s possible he could have stolen an Infinity stone.

Again, point’s already been made but Loki seeing the Infinity stones is what sells the power of the TVA.

Please, the rest of the office not giving a damn when one dude’s having some drama is hilariously on point. They really said ‘not my problem’.

Loki’s future

The screen on the table showing what he’s rewinding as it happens.

Btw if you pause any moment during that, you’ll see a scene.

A quick note on Loki’s characterisation:

He’s been through a lot in a very short period of time, quite literally finding out that his actions don’t have any consequences. He’s lost all autonomy, especially as a god who probably believed he was not as restrained as mortals. More on this in later Eps.

I really liked Ragnarok because it showed Loki and Thor’s maturity; they had to step out of legacies that were thousands of years old and come to terms with a universe that was much bigger than them. It also fleshed out their relationship as brothers, but not at the expense of who they were. Loki still is a schemer, and he talks more because he has less to hide in my eyes. He’s no longer just a villain, and that can’t be shown by just actions, especially in his own tv show.

Loki’s little laugh when Thor talks about giving him a hug. Man that was sad.

What shouldn’t be forgotten is that Loki doesn’t know how it ends. He doesn’t know whether Thanos gets defeated. For all he knows, he died in vain and left behind a brother with no family.

The collar says DANGER.

This is the scene that really nails it home to Loki that his purpose in life was to cause pain. He found out his glorious purpose in that timeline, he’s conflicted as Sylvie points out in Ep 3.

When Loki talks to Mobius, they’re both in medium shots. They’re on the same page.

Loki’s delivery has changed when talking about the 'illusion' but Mobius hasn’t. That may change in the later episodes.

1858 Salina, Oklahoma

Others have covered this better.

Sylvie’s theme is similar to Loki’s but not identical.

It’s got sinister tones which change throughout the series.

I love how you can see the images of the minutemen’s past and future as they walk through a time door, they literally step through time.

I’ve got a whole other post on the end credits scenes. Cheers if you read this all lads.

Ep 1 review

All in all, this was a scene-setting episode. One of my friends texted me and said ‘Loki really went through ten years worth of character development in minutes’ and I think that sums it up pretty well. It’s a great set up, but the next episode is where the plot begins to progress. Really enjoyed it. There’s not too much that was aided by what we know from ep 3 besides Casey’s fish from what I caught.

See y'all next time, if there is anyone reading this. Look after yourselves!

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #425

Top Ten Things Missing From Disney+

It’s been about a month now since Disney+ finally – finally! – launched here in the UK, and what a ride it’s been. It’s totally taken over my daughters, in the sense that now they don’t watch TV, they watch Disney+; apart from token gestures to the iPlayer for the more educational endeavours of the likes of Numberbots or Do You Know, they’ve not seen anything not produced by the House of Mouse.

But at least I now know all the words to the Vampirina theme song.

Of course, it’s not all kids’ stuff; we’ve been enjoying visiting and re-visiting some classic movies, and The Mandalorian – which I pretty much figured I’d enjoy – has totally blown me away. It’s true that I adore The Last Jedi, but Mando is more of what I want from Star Wars going forward; singular takes that employ the classic iconography we know and love, but with fresh storylines and characters, giving us something familiar but different. It’s the Lone Wolf and Cub breezy space western I didn’t know I needed.

But the more I look at what’s on offer, the more I see things that aren’t there. This isn’t me being greedy and demanding more and more content (well, not exactly); rather, it’s things I find curious by omission. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of stuff on here that I really want to see; but at the same time, I don’t really get whey it’s not there. Or even if I do, I also find it a little odd. There are some obvious rights issues at play; but this is Disney, could they not fork out the money? And I’ve left off other films where I guess they’re timing the release to maximise publicity – for instance, whilst they brought Frozen II to the US earlier than planned, I sorta get why keeping it back in the UK might make financial sense. Similarly, the Christmas-themed Noelle was essentially a Disney+ “launch title” in the States, but I imagine we’ll eventually see it come November. Again, adding fresh content throughout the year makes sense, from a brutal capitalist perspective.

So this list isn’t a whine, necessarily; nor is it a deep-dive into Hollywood rights issues. It’s really just me pondering the reasoning behind what we got and what we didn’t. But make no mistake: I’m seriously pissed off we didn’t get number one.

The Ewok movies: Caravan of Courage (1984) and Battle for Endor (1985) were video rental staples of my childhood and really synonymous with my early love for Star Wars in general and Ewoks in particular. I am absolutely certain that they will not have aged well, and I wonder if their low-fi cheesiness is what keeps them off the service. Plus, maybe Disney doesn't want to acknowledge their continuity? Regardless, I think they’re missing a trick by not acknowledging the weird hinterland of Star Wars stuff pre its late 90s renaissance.

Genndy Tartakovsky’s Clone Wars: not the more famous Dave Filoni CG one, but the earlier series of shorts from the beloved Samurai Jack creator that ran from 2003-05. Beautiful, elegiac, and filling in minor plot points between Attack of the Clones and Revenge of the Sith (we all wanted to know how Anakin got that scar, didn’t we?), these were fantastic tone poems dedicated to our favourite sci-fi universe, and I'm a bit mystified by their absence. Surely these at least are still canon?

1960s Marvel cartoons: y’know, like Spider-Man (1967-70) – the one with the theme tune. There were several of these shows, often adapting the comics, sometimes very literally (the Hulk one is practically a motion comic). Their quality now is perhaps variable, but they’re fascinating artefacts of their time. I'd love to see them again (especially as we’re probably not gonna see the Sony Spider-Man films any time soon).

The Hulk movies: Hulk (2003) and The Incredible Hulk (2008) are, neither of them, very fondly remembered; Edward Norton's solo outing very much the MCU’s red-headed stepchild, and Ang Lee's film predates the idea of shared universes to deliver a very singular vision. The rights to the Hulk are tied up in complex pre-Disney contracts, meaning a solo Jade Giant movie would need to be released via Universal, and I imagine that holds true for streaming. But come on; he's a major Avenger. Surely they could come to some arrangement regarding The Incredible Hulk at least, just to try to bolster the MCU playlist? It's not as if Disney can't afford it. 

Droids and Ewoks cartoons: in the Eighties ('85-’86 to be precise) young Star Wars fans could relive adventures in a galaxy far, far away with two different classic animations: one following the high-camp adventures of Threepio and Artoo, and another focused on Wicket W. Warrick and his furry friends. I've not seen either since I was very little, but I remember them both with enormous fondness, and I find their absence from D+ to be a personal attack. Even if – let’s face it – these are definitely not canon.

Sofia the First: Once Upon a Princess (2012): see, this one's a bit strange. Sofia the First – the pleasant Disney Junior cartoon about a young village girl becoming a princess – is on D+, as expected. But its double-length pilot, released essentially as a TV movie, is not. The Tangled series had a similar debut, with its pilot “movie” Before Ever After, and that's on the service; so whither Sofia? It's not as if they’re gonna cause a Twitter storm by releasing it later. Did they forget? Is it down the back of Bob Iger’s sofa?

Logan (2017): yeah I know why this one isn't on there; it's full of effin' and jeffin' and blokes getting their arms lopped off. But it's a bit weird to only get two of the three Wolverine movies. True, the continuity of the Fox X-Men films is all over the place, but all the same, to miss out the “last” one feels a bit off, ultraviolence notwithstanding. Skipping Deadpool is more understandable, mind.

Futurama (1999-2013): Disney have rightly made a big deal about The Simpsons. But Futurama is more-or-less equal to Simpsons at its height (and being a much shorter run, less variable in quality). Whilst it skews a bit older, I don't see it as being unsuitable for Disney+, so not sure why it's not there. My guess is they're waiting to release it with a big splash somewhere down the road (unless there's some rights issue I'm not aware of).

The Indiana Jones movies (1981-2007): this is either another rights issue (do Paramount still own the distribution? Are they signed up to another service?) or they’re waiting for an opportune moment to strike. Because, really, this is a no-brainer; Indy is right in Disney’s wheelhouse. Sticking Harrison Ford’s weathered but beautiful face on their advertising is a huge draw. But if somehow they can’t show the Indiana Jones movies, then it’s gonna be weird come Christmas 2022 or whenever it is that James Mangold’s Indiana Jones and the Quiet Sunday at Home Watching Antiques Roadshow reaches the service. Say, they’re not gonna make us wait that long for the other films are they?!

Star Wars Holiday Special (1978): no, wait, hear me out. This could be big. I get why it’s not there, really I do; it’s a much-lambasted relic, a TV variety special kitted out with emerging Hollywood glamour, made when Star Wars wasn’t really Star Wars and therefore a perennial embarrassment to George Lucas. But its naffness is now legendary. Disney should give it a rudimentary nip and tuck, clean up the noisy VHS transfers that flood the internet, and whack it on National Geographic or something, maybe with a humorous retrospective documentary from the guys who did The World According to Jeff Goldblum or something. This could be a huge, and that’s a hill I’ll die on.

Right, that’s ten big ones whose omission either baffles or offends me. There are others, both large (whither Titanic?) and small (I find it a bit weird that Garfield 2 is on there but not Garfield 1). My eldest also noted that The Nightmare Before Christmas is missing, although I’d wager that’ll pop up before the year’s end (EDIT: turns out it is up there. I'm pretty sure it wasn't at launch, though). Disney is playing a clever game with content that is, to some degree, limited (in the sense that it can only really add new movies or shows that it makes itself, and there’ll only ever be a few of those a year); holding back some prestige flicks for opportune moments makes sense. But, c’mon; give us our Ewoks, man.

[spoopercorp]

Supercorp Fic 4/4

Summary: Kara leaves for a mission and when she returns, she is not entirely herself - Kara Danvers and Kara Zor-El are gone. All that is left is Supergirl, last child of Krypton and now Rao’s successor.

Chapter Summary: Supergirl finds herself drifting farther and farther from humanity, but something - someone - keeps pulling her back and involuntarily tethering her to Earth. Her efforts to discern whether the person - a mere human - was previously friend or family always comes up fruitless.

Maybe because Lena was someone that could not be fit into those two categories.

Based on this: “plastic-pipes.tumblr.com/post/161320253433/plastic-pipes-i-can-c-basically-its-kinda-i” by @plastic-pipes.

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“Kara?”

The utter shock was evident in Alex’s expression and tone, and she stepped to the side, sliding the window to her apartment open. Supergirl floated into the spacious living room, dimly lit with only a nearby lamp and the television screen.

“I was worried,” Alex whispered, taking her little sister’s fingers into her own and squeezing.

Supergirl did not reciprocate, instead, she observed the action, mesmerized.

“You need not be worried,” she reassured, felt the need to.

“Well,” Alex folded her arms, “Last month there was that neighborhood attack, then the restaurant bombing, then another assassination attempt on…”

She trailed off when she registered a subtle change in Supergirl’s expression.

A moment of silence enveloped them before a curious glint was caught in Alex’s eye.

“How’s Lena?”

“She’s…” the Kryptonian was clearly caught off guard by the question, “Injured. Recovering.”

“Did you see her? Recently?” Alex moved to the couch and Supergirl followed without a word, hovering next to the arm of the sofa.

“No,” she answered, almost in disappointment, moving to the bookshelf, “The last we spoke was two weeks ago.”

Alex hummed in reply. Lena’s and Supergirl’s interactions were always...interestingly peculiar; it was by no means steady, almost on and off - the latter would visit, usually every night, then the meetings would stop suddenly for an undetermined amount of time, only to spontaneously resume at their daily paces.

Supergirl visited Alex less often, at least once a week, but the scheduling was less...precarious, more consistent.

It was probably more stimulating as well; there were times when the Kryptonian would watch the show playing on the television and ask questions every five to ten minutes, it depended on how interesting it was. Then there was music and then there were the board games, which Alex quickly ended up scrapping because Supergirl always won.

This time the Kryptonian was occupied with the books on the agent’s shelves, which were honestly not particularly intriguing to read; the majority of them were non-fictional informational texts from Alex’s time studying in medical school.

She did purchase a hulking book of American idioms, because Supergirl had suddenly acquired a keen curiosity with them, and it did make talking to her a lot easier. She finished it shortly though, and had a small novel in her hand instead, reading next to Alex, whose eyes were glued to the screen.

“I finished your newly purchased texts regarding the topic of psychology,” Supergirl informed.

Alex did not turn from the screen, “Is there a reason you’re so interested in that? You’ve picked up interesting reading subjects lately.”

“Humans are...confusing.”

“That's all?” Alex asked, momentarily glancing over before returning her attention to the television, “I can hardly see that reason being sufficient enough to prompt you to want to read books on psychology.”

“Ms. Luthor is...confusing,” Supergirl supplied instead.

Alex's gaze rested on Supergirl for longer this time, a brow quirked.

Of course.

Then she turned back to her screen.

She also fought off a grimace at how Supergirl - Kara - addressed her former best friend. She was not the only victim though. Winn was Mr. Schott. James was Mr. Olsen. Even Clark was Mr. Kent.

Alex was always Alexandra though. More formal, but more familiar.

Everyone’s bond with Supergirl was unique. Special with their roles in their own little ways.

Alex often found herself exchanging her point of view to the goddess for more...human situations.

Cat was straightforward, blunt, and practical with her advice, but was rarely visited.

Maggie and Supergirl seldom encountered one another, but when they did, it was always when their duties clashed - they were civil though, discussed the jurisdiction of the police and the latter’s heroic antics.

J’onn was relatively quiet, only informing the Kryptonian of missions the D.E.O. needed to accomplish, but there was a connection there, no matter how brief. He kept her old suit as well, when it was discarded the moment Kara transcended.

Clark and Mon-El were reminders of Krypton, though she almost never sought them out.

James and Lucy often brought Supergirl around to experience the life of humans whether it was taking photos or going out for a quick bite, even with all the gawking.

Winn cracked jokes as many times as he could to get a smile out of her whenever she was at the D.E.O. It never worked and Alex believed it was because of Kara’s current condition and the fact that Winn was not funny.

Eliza and Supergirl did not speak often, the latter only visited for the rare desire of peace and quiet in Midvale - perhaps the silently warm comfort of a mother.

Lena was...different. Alex had known of their meetings, nothing past that, but Supergirl often left from them more...normal. Maybe even to say more emotional, more passionate, but that was all normal for Kara.

“They won’t stop talking about it, you know?” Alex said.

Supergirl’s ears perked up at the sentence, followed by the name ‘Lena Luthor’ emitted from the television set. She raised her head to rest her gaze onto the news anchor, spewing out some biased details. Then her focus trained on Alex, if she was going to hear nonsensical human jargon, she would much rather hear it from her.

“Some people say Lena was a hero,” the agent started, lifting the remote from her coffee table and lowering the volume, “Most say Lena set the stage up. You know, for some good publicity.”

“At the price of her own well-being?”

Supergirl’s voice had a skeptical lilt to it, almost disbelieving, almost irked.

“Ha,” Alex threw her head back, “Right? Like, I get where everyone’s anti-Luthor mentality comes from, but she's consistently shown that she's not like her family, and...people - humans - are just a little difficult to fully understand sometimes.”

Supergirl nodded in agreement, turning back to the jumbled words in her book, “Is that why Ms. Luthor tends to be-”

“Aloof? Cold? Distant? Unapproachable? Lonely?” Alex shrugged, “Maybe.”

Supergirl tilted her head, “She is not alone. Her secretary assists her often.”

The agent chuckled softly, “No. There’s a difference between being alone and being lonely.”

“Enlighten me.”

Alex shrugged again, “Well, for starters, you can still be around people and feel lonely. I guess it’s like a part of you is missing - it feels empty, hollow, like nothing can really fill it, like no one really understands you,” she sighed, “If it weren’t for you or J’onn I might’ve still been drunkenly partying around all the time - alcohol is a temporary coping mechanism.”

“Ms. Luthor drinks a lot,” Supergirl stated.

Alex winced, “Yeah, I’ve seen how much liquor she can hold. She’s worse than I am.”

“Are familial, platonic, and romantic relationships not supposed to remedy negative feelings?”

“They do,” she answered, “Ninety-nine percent of the time the people you’re close to really help out.”

“What about the one percent?” Supergirl inquired.

“What?”

“Aside from the ninety-nine percent.”

Alex frowned, relaxed into her cushions and sighed, “Well, the one percent of the time you’re Lena Luthor I guess.”

“How so?”

“Her shady background prompted some sketchy sleuthing, Winn and I conducted an investigation on her history. There was enough information on Lex, of course, and plenty to go around about Lionel and Lillian. But Lena was always under the radar.”

“What was ‘under the radar’?” Supergirl repeated.

Alex shifted uncomfortably, “Adoption history, a few medical bills, filed charges, her standardized test scores and report cards, which, wow by the way - she did a lot better in school than Lex did, and everyone says he’s a genius, but maybe he was just too busy with his anti-alien agenda-”

“Medical bills?”

Alex’s tone sounded uneasy, “The first one was a year after her adoption, she was five, and it was for a broken arm. The next was when she was seven, she dislocated her ankle. Ten years old she shattered a kneecap. Fourteen when she had a fractured scapula. Sixteen she was brought in with a broken femur. Seventeen she dislocated her shoulder and elbow. I mean, the Luthors certainly couldn’t cite that she was clumsy, might’ve worked the first two times if they were lucky. But some of her injuries festered over time: old cuts, old bruises, et cetera. So, I looked into the primary hospital that treated her and they already had a good influx of donations, but the times surrounding Lena’s ‘accidents’ were when they had a donor that provided a ridiculously large sum of money.”

“You are implying she was abused,” Supergirl deduced.

Alex’s voice grew more distressed, “Yeah. Physically, emotionally, who knows what else. And it definitely explains the charges Lena filed against her mom and dad the moment she hit eighteen, but I couldn’t get into them, even with Winn’s computer skills - the Luthors really wanted that part hidden from the public.”

There was silence, perhaps on Supergirls side because she was digesting the information slowly.

Then Alex ran a hand through her hair, “I didn’t like her at first, ‘cause, you know, she was a Luthor - I didn’t trust her. Then you two became friends and I had to change my perspective a little; she was polite, stubborn, but really genuine with you,” her voice softened into a gentle tone, “Lena was still a little wary and standoffish towards everyone else, but I couldn’t really determine my next opinion of her without some research on why that woman practically never smiled, so...I got Winn’s help, and I guess I shouldn't have been so surprised when I figured out the answer.”

She chanced a glance over to her sister, still floating in the air in her sacred attire, her face like stone, frozen into an unreadable expression.

“She grew up rich, really rich, but she raised herself ‘cause all the support and love went to Lex. She had wealth though, but it wasn’t the usual case of a kid lacking in attention and given money as a substitute and hoping for the best. No, there was that, and neglect, and abuse. It must’ve been a constant nightmare for Lena.”

“Indeed.”

The voice was almost speechless, came out wavered, mostly even, but the fluctuation carried a cumbersome weight to it.

Alex observed Supergirl staring blankly past the pages of the text she was previously reading, and her eyes skimmed over the cover of the book.

“Menander? You’re interested in Greek texts now? What story?”

“I completed Dyskolos - The Misanthrope. I am currently reading excerpts from all of his fragmented works that were lost in the Middle Ages.”

Alex leaned over and read the title page, “Dis Exapaton - The Double Deceiver? Again? You keep coming back to that.”

“There is a maxim that he wrote that has held my interest.”

The agent chuckled lightly, “Another idiom you want to decipher?”

Supergirl’s eyes softened a tiny fraction, and after Alex has been so accommodated to her stoicness, she easily caught the change.

It seemed troubled.

Her eyes narrowed slightly when Supergirl shut the book with a quiet thud and placed it back on the shelf.

“I must go,” she said, quickly met with a firm hug from Alex.

“Take care, Kara.”

She hovered towards the window, “It is late.”

She gripped the frame, her body almost out of the exit before she turned.

Her eyes seemed to be in turmoil as she gave a nod, clear even in the dark, “Goodbye,” there was hesitation, a little something that seemed like humanity, “Alex.”

Then she left into the night.

She kept going back.

She did not know why, but she did.

At the end of the day, the week, the month...after a particularly taxing mission, she usually found herself atop L-Corp’s balcony.

And she knew it must have had everything to do with the woman who owned the building.

Lena Luthor.

Though she was uncertain to why she was so drawn to the C.E.O. - the invisible pull was there almost every minute of every day.

Especially now.

Because Lena made her feel something, something different than what anyone else offered.

It was best described as something between familial and platonic, but there were many times where it felt different from the two altogether; the something Supergirl felt with her family and friends was gradual, subtle, and comfortable.

Lena caused a fiery spark of something, but it came and went within a heartbeat, and the Kryptonian found herself pursuing it constantly, almost addictively.

The godly facade was being peeled apart by everyone, gently, carefully.

Lena was tearing those walls apart with such passionate ease, but it was not gentle nor careful, more messy than everyone else’s methods, gaining its pace exponentially, and Lena herself was probably unaware of her affects.

Supergirl tentatively floated, on the other side of the balcony, and kept her distance. She observed the woman, hair down, almost slouched, hunched over with her token alcoholic beverage in hand. Her fingers were wrapped around the railing, gripping so hard her own knuckles might have broken.

If it were not for the Kryptonian gliding over to unclench them.

Lena flinched, pulled her hand away.

“You drink,” Supergirl said, eyeing the liquor with something akin to distaste, “Often.”

“Why’re you here?” her tone was quiet, a little snappy, thankfully not drunken, “Don’t you have better things to do? Like save the world?”

The last remnants of bitterness from the incident were still there.

“You are still injured,” Supergirl stated, “You almost died. You should be resting.”

“I know you didn’t come here just to check up on my condition,” Lena hummed, clicking her tongue, “You sound like you want to say something else.”

Supergirl hovered next to her on the balcony, her voice a tad lower, “We spoke of idioms some time ago.”

Lena recalled the memory, and it was a pleasant one judging from the smirk that lifted her lips, “Yes, why don’t you cut to the chase?”

Supergirl did not entertain the sassy remark, her lips twitched, almost unsettled.

“I discovered yet another.”

A small but sad though eager smile colored Lena’s face, “And that is?”

A pause.

“‘Those whom the gods love die young’.”

Lena’s breath hitched and her eyes widened in surprise, but her features were hastily schooled into a hardened expression.

“Why’re you telling me this?”

“I seek an answer, because when I read it...there was a weight within my chest,” another heavy pause, “I thought of you... I do not understand what that means,” she turned, her celestial eyes boring into earthly emeralds, “Tell me, what does it mean?”

Lena knew what she was really asking, but she evaded it anyway with an intellectual answer, because logic was easy to fall into, “That phrase is often used when someone dies young, below the average lifespan. Around eighty years here in the U.S.”

“I did not mean the idiom,” Supergirl notified softly.

Lena swallowed, felt her chest and lungs and vocal cords numb, maybe it was because of the injuries, but she was smart, she knew better.

“Then I can't tell you what you want to know,” she informed, “I can't give you an answer for that. I’m sorry.”

Supergirl nodded, “Explain to me why humans utilize that idiom then.”

That Lena could do, it was easy, “It’s a form of comfort for those who have lost someone too early.”

“Does it comfort you?”

“No.”

Supergirl’s brows furrowed in confusion and Lena averted her eyes to avoid that crinkle.

“You lack faith and hope. Your hardships have made you cynical and pessimistic,” the goddess stated.

The Luthor scoffed, “Ha. No. I’m realistic. I’m a realist.”

Supergirl felt something stir in the pit of her stomach, it was heated and bubbling, and it made her tone slightly harsher, “You are a misanthrope.”

Lena chuckled humorlessly, “Same thing.”

Supergirl narrowed her eyes, some part of her holy exterior cracked.

The vomit of words came out from her subconscious, and a part of it was meant to inform and to hurt, to inflict pain, “My observations have informed me that you severely lack in the self-worth department. You drink. Too much,��� there was no control, the words would not stop, and she murderously glared at the glass of alcohol in Lena’s hand, “More so now because you can drown yourself and become numb to your emotions. You are plagued by insomnia and self-hatred and it suffocates you. It is not necessarily that your mind constantly berates, but when the time comes to prove yourself or to make decisions regarding something or someone with high losses and gains, you are often doubtful and loathing of your abilities; it is due to everyone in your past undermining your accomplishments and favoring your bro-”

Lena’s eyes flared and a loud slap resonated through Supergirl’s acute ears.

She felt a tingling sensation on her cheek, saw the human wince and retract her arm back to her side.

The angry heat in her stomach was replaced with worry, and suddenly she was startled - belatedly so - at her own words, at how utterly human it was from start to finish, from the intention to the inflection.

“Your han-”

“Shut the fuck up,” Lena scowled, her eye twitched from holding back a pained grimace, “You know nothing about me, Supergirl,” she drew back at the name, shrank in her stance, “Get the hell out of my office.”

She watched a tear, then another, fall from the woman’s regretful eyes, in such pain that the already jaded green hue encased in them dulled impossibly further.

Supergirl felt a pang in her chest, her heart stuttered with remorse.

“I am sorry…”

Lena dipped her head at the apology and wiped her tears, then pinched the bridge of her nose.

She took a deep, unsettled breath.

“Me too…”

There was a lump in Supergirl’s throat, and she took a step forward, then another, and then another, until she was standing tall before the Luthor in front of her.

Lena tilted her head up to connect their eyes.

“I have difficulties determining who you are - were - to me,” Supergirl confessed, stroking the dark tresses with the tips of her fingers, “To Kara Danvers.”

Lena swallowed, eyes fluttering at the action as she waited for her to finish.

“You are not someone more nor someone less; you are neither friend nor family,” Supergirl let her hand drop away, “I do not understand. You often feel like both, but you also often feel...different to me. Figuratively,” she raised her hand again, placed it gently against Lena’s cheek, caressing the wet trails with her thumb, and the skin contact buzzed with electricity, “And literally.”

Lena’s breath caught in her throat and she stepped back, away from the emotions, away from what she was feeling, “We were best friends. That’s all.”

Supergirl’s hand stayed suspended in the empty air before returning to her side.

“I see,” she said, melancholic.

Lena saw something dawn on the Kryptonian’s face, a sort of epiphany that enlightened her.

“Did I belong to you?”

The suddenness of the statement caught Lena off guard, left her speechless.

“P-Pardon?”

“Was I yours?” Supergirl rephrased, “Were you mine?”

“No,” Lena released a breath, “We were never...” she waved her hand casually, “...romantically involved.”

“I understand.”

Then, “You are cold.”

Lena forced a smile, kept her shivering under control after the comment, “Well, it does get chilly at night. Or do you mean it figuratively?”

Supergirl unclasped her cape from her shoulders, draped the holy fabric over the human.

A moment passed.

“What happened to you? To Kara?” Lena asked, brushing the shock off from her system as she tugged the cape closer to her body. She fought back another wince when her hand protested the movement.

Supergirl waited a moment, contemplated.

“I encountered several Kryptonians, they originated from the remains of Fort Rozz, unassociated with Non and Astra In-Ze,” she explained, “They called themselves the Sun Thrivers - a rogue religious sect banished from Krypton. They stirred trouble, I went to investigate. One of them was a high priest, known as the Voice of Rao, who was endowed with the privilege of speaking directly to the god; he chose me to carry on the legacy as I was still young, but retained Krypton’s memories. They conducted an ancient ritual, imbued me with the reincarnation of Rao.”

There was more silence, and it deepened torturously, lingered with its somberness.

“I’m grieving,” Lena blurted out, then more tears spilled, “I'm grieving for someone who isn't dead,” she turned to Supergirl, eyes ardent with anger and terribly forlorn, “Kara isn't dead,” her voice broke, cracked open, showcased her vulnerability with its heaviness, “She's just...she's just gone…”

“I am sorry.”

“Apologies don’t fix everything,” Lena whispered hoarsely.

Supergirl nodded, her expression solemn, “I have been made aware.”

“I loved you,” she cried, soft, gentle, “I loved Kara. I still do.”

“I am still her,” Supergirl tried, she felt something prickle and sting at her eyes, “I am still Kara Danvers. I am still your-”

“No,” Lena croaked, tightening her grip on the cape over her shoulders, “You’re not. You’re-”

Something impulsive drove Supergirl, caused her to surge forward and roughly capture the woman’s lips with her own.

The moment she decided to pull away, Lena deepened the kiss, a hand slipped around the hero’s waist, the other clawed up her strong back before resting atop a broad shoulder. She grimaced when a sharp pain shot up her wrist, but ignored it.

Something primal snapped inside Supergirl and she pushed forward, slammed Lena against the glass separating the building from the balcony with a thud, earning her a groan of pleasure.

The soft mewls and whimpers quickly shifted into a noise that sounded like growling and Lena’s hands dug farther into the Kryptonian’s muscular body, desperate for skin.

Supergirl followed quickly by dancing her fingers up Lena’s skirt, hiking it up to her hips as she caressed the supple alabaster flesh. Then she squeezed once, twice, before shoving her body closer and pinning the human farther onto the glass.

Lena grunted at the force, then moaned when a firm hand lifted a leg up and she curved it around the hero’s hips.

The kisses became wetter, messier, then Supergirl trailed her lips down to the hollow of Lena’s throat and sucked.

The woman released a high-pitched moan and brought her hands up around the Kryptonian’s neck, played with the hair along her nape with feathery strokes, urging her on.

Lena sighed, set her leg down and lifted the other up, pressing between Supergirl’s legs, who gasped at the sensation.

She returned the action soon after and it prompted Lena to bite down, hard, into unbreakable lips.

It encouraged Supergirl to press her thigh harder into the Luthor, who threw her head back, her neck vulnerable and so beautifully pale.

Supergirl was quick to assault it with her lips, teeth nipping here and there, then to the shoulders, then to the collarbone.

“Fuck.”

Lena was overwhelmed, began to ride Supergirl’s thigh desperately, bucking her hips in a wildly uncontrolled manner as she felt the coil in the pit of her stomach intensify, and she returned the favor simultaneously.

Supergirl encouraged her, swallowed her shaky moans with her lips, reveled in the dampness that was on her thigh and in between her own legs.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she registered the fact that this was what humans called ‘arousal’, ‘consummating’, ‘love’, and she - a goddess chosen - was engaging in them swiftly and thoroughly.

Supergirl pulled back, pressed their foreheads together, watched as Lena grew more and more sensitive to touch, heard as Lena’s voice grew higher in pitch as she got closer, felt as Lena’s flesh was coated in a light sheen of sweat.

She came with a weak and strangled cry, sinking her head into the crook of Supergirl’s neck and biting into the bulletproof skin to muffle herself, and the hero followed shortly after with ragged breaths.

Lena’s hips slowed and her whines quieted to shallow pants, and Supergirl found herself surprised at how dismayed she was at the fact she was no longer hearing the woman’s moans.

She also found yet another powerful urge to kiss her and leaned in to plant another, fluttering her eyes shut, only to be met with a tear-stained cheek when Lena turned away. Then there was a hand pressing against Supergirl’s chest, pushing her away, and she took a small step back, but her hand was still wrapped around the woman’s waist.

“No. I...I can’t. You have a higher calling than…” Lena gestured between them, “...this. You were chosen, you're meant to be something great, and you can't be that here.”

Supergirl shook her head, “It was a gift. I’m not obligated to keep it.”

Lena took a shaky breath, dipped her gaze to the floor.

Her eyes widened.

When did Supergirl land?

“You’re…” she felt her heart rate increase, “...on th-the ground.”

She snapped her head back up to see blue eyes overflowing with tears.

“I don't want this, Lena.”

“K-Kara?”

“I want to go home,” she whispered, “I want to have a proper sister night with Alex, I want to play video games with Winn, I want to eat pizza and potstickers, I-I want...I want you, Lena.”

“Kara, what’s - Kara!”

She collapsed to her knees, onto the floor, unconscious. Lena followed her to the ground, her arms firmly embracing her, panicking when a white aura surrounded her friend.

She watched as Supergirl’s divine suit shimmered away to reveal the nakedness underneath.

The next time Lena saw her was a week later, when she was leaned against her desk and carefully observing the television. It was bright into the afternoon, the sun shining through her balcony. It was very unlike her previous meetings with Supergirl, though that was not the only difference.

“Water?”

Lena pivoted to see the girl of steel touch the floor of her building, wearing her old suit and that sparkling grin.

She darted her gaze to the beverage she was holding, not amber in color as usual.

“It’s a little too early for alcohol I’d say,” she hummed, gave a small and somewhat uneasy smile.

Kara took a step closer, her grin still scintillating, but there was a crinkle between her brows as she sought to connect their gazes, “That’s never exactly held you back from drinking.”

Lena chuckled, averted her eyes, refused to match it, “You make a point.”

A moment passed.

“How’s your hand?”

The Luthor raised a perfect brow, then dipped her head in shame, observing her cast.

“I was hoping your transition would erase your memories. You remember?”

“Hard not to,” Kara replied, her crinkle intensifying as her friend continued to avoid her eyes, “The bones didn’t sound too good when you slapped me.”

Lena grimaced, “Yeah, I’m sorry about that, truly.”

“Me too,” Kara said softly, “You weren’t in a good place, I should’ve recognized that, especially after the reveal. I guess I should work on boundaries.”

The Luthor shot her eyes up, but the cowardice had it stop at the sight of the emblem of hope, carefully crafted into the navy fabric.

“That wasn’t you that time,” she argued, “Not all of it.”

“Not all of it,” Kara repeated, “But my tendency to ramble was unfortunately passed on to the godly version of me.”

“And the crinkle,” Lena mumbled, and she immediately bit her lip after those words fell from her tongue.

She quickly evaded Kara’s reply.

“Do you remember everything?” she inquired, “When you became Supergirl full-time?”

“I do,” came the answer, “Listen, I-”

“You don’t have to,” Lena cut in, “I understand. You didn’t mean to. It was…” she turned away, made for her cupboard, “...a lapse in judgement,” she pulled out a bottle of vodka, “A mistake.”

She poured the liquor into her new cup and it sloshed, made a mess around her counter before shooting it straight down her throat.

“No,” Kara protested, “That’s not-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” Lena interjected, pouring herself another glass, “I have a meeting in ten-”

Kara gripped her friend’s wrist, halting it from bringing more alcohol into her system.

“Stop,” she pleaded, her voice firm, “Just...listen to me.”

Lena pressed her lips into a thin line before nodding, steeling herself up for what was to come.

Kara gently pried her fingers from the glass and set the liquor down onto the counter.

She failed again to connect their gazes.

“Do you really think that it was a mistake?”

Her friend remained silent.

Kara sighed, “You’re right, it was a lapse in judgement.”

Lena winced, drew back and shrank from the statement, the pain was evident on her face.

“But I didn’t regret it,” she added, taking her friend’s good hand into her own, “I only wish it could’ve been better. For us. Because you deserved more than…” she shook her head, “...whatever that was. Our feelings are mutual.��

Lena’s eyes widened a fraction and her heart skipped a beat.

“We can move on from this,” Kara continued, gently rubbing soothing circles on the back of Lena’s palm, “We can have a little bit of a fresh start you know. There’s this new fancy restaurant that opened, I heard their kale dishes were amazing.”

The worry ate at her the more the silence fleshed out.

“Hey.”

At this point she was almost begging for a reaction. Then she placed Lena’s hand on her own cheek.

“Hey,” she tried again, desperate, “Look at me.”

Kara stepped closer, invaded her personal space, lifted the woman’s chin up until their eyes finally connected.

“It’s me,” she murmured.

Lena’s emerald eyes blinked, seemingly just registered the familiar blue in front of her.

Her thumb stroked the strong cheekbone.

“It’s me, Lena,” Kara whispered.

Lena smiled, “I wasn’t quite sure, you used ‘kale’ and ‘awesome’ in the same sentence.”

They both chuckled, planted a chaste kiss upon each other’s lips.

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