#it's within a thread of the rest of the comic

[cerealmonster15]

YEAH I FOUND IT ON TWITTER

[faithums]

…cuddling with the jjk men ·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

✎ synopsis: what positions do the jjk men cuddle in (+ my interpretations)

<suggestive> <fluff> <crack>

Inclu. gojo, nanami, megumi, choso, yuji, toji, geto

╰┈➤ gojo satoru

spontaneous embraces are his go to, you never know what he is going to say or do next. but he is always found in the classic spooning position. god knows what he would do without it.

As you lay comfortably in bed, the feeling of warmth of the blankets enveloped you, you sense Gojo’s presence drawing near, his captivating aura filling the room with a heavy tension as he stepped gently toward you. His touch is feather-light as he wraps his toned arms around you from behind, pulling you tight- leaving no room for air- into a soothing embrace.

You arch your back slightly, pressing into his torso and lower back, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. His warmth seeps into your skin, creating a sense of security and tranquility. His breath against the nape of your neck sends shivers down your spine as he cupped the flesh of your thighs.

You intertwine your fingers with his, relishing in the simple yet profound connection between the two of you. In this moment there are no words required between the two of you; just silent understanding and subtle affection. It’s a moment of solace, where the world starts to fade away, along with the stress of it all- leaving only the comforting embrace of his presence.

You let out a sigh, a sigh to inform yourself how you can finally relax, knowing he is safe with you and, mostly, how you’re safe with him. He slowly begins to caress your hips, placing his chin into the slopes of your clavicle. You love him silently back by placing your hand atop of his (which is comically large on comparison) and tenderly trace the redness of his knuckles.

The silence as comforting, but all of a sudden this loud, jarring voice creeps up behind you, tainting your hearing: “If I slipped it in would it ruin the mood?” When Gojo tries to initiate anything sexual it all goes south hilariously.

A small wheeze left your lips: “Oh my god. Saturo, you’re unbelievable.” You love him and his stupid little comments, but sometimes this man cannot read the room.

“That’s not a no is it, love.” you could feel him smirk into the back of your neck, his hot breath making you fluster and choke on your words…

╰┈➤ kento nanami

a simple man, into the old time classics. like spooning or having your head on his lap whilst you two discussed the affairs of the fun filled days you’ve had. (p.s. this man is always the big spoon)

In the soft twilight glow, your head finds a gentle perch upon Nanami’s lap, a sanctuary of comfort admits the chaos of this curse ridden world. His relaxing presence blankets you like a protective cloak, shielding you from the tumultuous winds of life’s uncertainties.

As your fingers intertwine with his, it’s as though tune itself acquiesces, allowing this moment of intimacy to stretch into eternity (if only it could…). His touch, like the tender brush of a feather against your skin- despite his notorious ruthless nature- ignites a symphony of sensations that resonate deep with your soul.

With each stroke through your hair, Kento weaves threads of serenity and devotion, his fingers becoming the artisans of ataraxia in this shared sacred space. His heartbeat, a steady rhythm beneath your ear, acts as a comforting lullaby, guiding you into a state of peaceful surrender.

In this intimate cocoon, you’re both the architects and inhabitants of a world where love reigns supreme (despite the havoc which enfolds within your lives on a daily basis). Every whispered word, every gentle touch, is a testament to the profound bond that binds your sensitive hearts together, transcending the boundaries of time and space.

As you rest flush against his lap, enveloped in his warmth, you realise that this moment is not just a pause in time but a glimpse into your boundless futures- a testament to the enduring power of love to transform even the simplest of gestures into moments of sublime perfection.

“I love you Kento,” sleep configured your words to him, spilling your feelings to him for the millionth time, he must be getting fed up of it by now…

But no. He never does: “And I shall love and worship you for eternity, my darling.”

╰┈➤ megumi fushiguro

an affectionate lover when he needs to be. basking in the warmth of your embrace, relishing the moment, as he knows that this can’t last a life time, even though he wishes it could.

As the morning sun filters through the pristine curtains, it’s golden rays dance across the bare skin of you and Megumi, painting the room in a warm, honeyed glow. The gentle caress of sunlight kisses your intertwined forms; illuminating the delicate lines of your entangled limbs. His veiny, toned forearms (stained with an aureate hue) are meticulously wrapped around the flesh of your stomach, as his head rests flush against your chest.

Megumi’s strong, lanky hold you in a wholesome embrace as you cuddle together, radiating a sense of security and amenity. With each gentle touch, his fingers trace soothing patterns on your skin, a silent promise of protection and warmth. The contrast between the rough texture of his palms and the softness of your touch creates a sensation that feels both grounding and intimate, a tangible reminder of the bond you share.

You begin to play with your cute boyfriends fluffy, unruly black hair, eliciting a soft subtle groan of contentment from him, a sense of relaxation and desire washes over you both. Each onyx strand seems to have a mind of its own, curling around your fingers in a hypnotising dance. His groan carries a mixture of pleasure and relief, a testament to the blissful moment you share. With each gentle tug and caress, the tension of the outside world fades away, you become suddenly grateful of the serendipitous acts you both indulge in.

Megumi’s breath quickens, you feel the subtle shift in rhythm between your breathing patterns. The desynchronisation of the beats of your hearts made you less relaxed, the residue stress began to creep back over you.

“Can you match my breathing you’re stressing me out Fushiguro.” You whined, your voice strained with sleep.

“Mno.” He replied with a yawn which rippled against your warm chest, “its too much effort.”

“If you don’t I’ll send screenshots of our text messages to the group chat with Itadori, Kugisaki and Gojo in.” You chuckled to yourself through the ebony wisps of his hair.

“Okay. Fine.”

Even though he was getting sassier day-by-day, the hot smile on your skin was indicative of the inevitable submission of his heart beat would return to its original pace. Slowly transcending reality and entering a realm of bliss and freedom from the things that taint your very existence.

╰┈➤ choso kamo

someone who gets aroused by the little things in life, by cuddling. he’s too sweet, he doesn’t want to disrupt your rest. so he attempts at staying as still as he can before it goes noticed…

In the serene haven of your shared space, the soft glow of dimmed lights bathed the room, casting gentle shadows that danced across the walls. As you and Choso recline on the cosy refuge of the velvety couch, your legs intertwined seamlessly- fitting together leg the final pieces to a ridiculously hard puzzle.

Your fingers seemed to have a subconscious and moved independently to delicately trace the strong, defined contoured of his face, mapping out the creases from where he’s recently laughed uncontrollably. His eyes, riddled with sleep, were trying their hardest to withstand the effects of slumber. His brown pools meet yours with a silent unwavering support. With each small caress you feel the rough texture of his skin beneath your fingertips- earning a soft groan from each touch. A tangible reminder of how much you adore each other. 

His hair spills over his shoulders and down his broad back, it carries an air of untamed elegance, undeterred by his busy life. He cups your cheek, whispering sweet nothing into your ear about how have you permanently altered his life for the better.

As you lifelessly wrap your arms around him, you feel that the world you seem to reside in fades away, leaving only the two of you cocooned in an embrace that feels like coming home. His strong yet gentle arms encircle you, pulling you close so your bodies touch. Flush against his toned chest, you felt small beneath him, vulnerable- in a good way, your hands traced his collarbones, counting the beauty marks on his sternum, which made his own unique constellation.

As you held him close you noticed that he began to subtly shift in his demeanour. He seemed to become tense which is odd as his posture is usually composed, and you can feel the faint tremble of his muscles beneath your touch. His breath, once steady and calm, now comes in irregular busts, betraying the carnality brewing within him.

“Choso. Can you not be hard for once,” you laughed into the crook of his neck. Inhaling his scent, a blend of earthy musk and the faintest hint of spice.

“Sorry Baby,” he whined into your hair, ruffling it with his large hand, “can’t help it… you’re too perfect.” he squeezed the flesh of your ass in response. And smiled knowing he’s safe from judgement in your loving arms, despite the current predicament…

╰┈➤ yuji itadori

this man expects hugs etc of how he is with his personality, he gives 150% each day, and alls he wants in return is to cuddle. but when he shares an embrace with you it isn’t long until he’s fast. asleep.

Your head is slung over his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his torso, scared he will let go. (Even though he would probably be thinking the same.) His pink hair, appears dark in the nights shine, with each rise and fall of his chest- his dreams catch up with him slowly but surely, a blanket of sleep falling and catching him.

The dust particles danced in the air as the moons iridescent rays highlighted them, you watched half lidded as they began their journey to perilously fall to the ground and be trapped forever. It was an interesting thought, but a thought at least.

Your leg was thrown over his, it had become limp as that too had been affected by the night, casting a paralysing spell upon you. You adjust yourself with a contented sigh, moving the leg, seeking even closer contact.

Yuji stirs slightly at the movement, but he doesn’t wake, instead, he instinctively pulls you closer, his arm encasing you protectively. His presence is comforting, and you revel in the feeling of safety and leave that being with him ultimately brings.

Wrapped in each other’s embrace, you drift off into a peaceful sleep, content in the knowledge that you are exactly where you belong- in Yuji’s arms.

It was peaceful, too peaceful. A bird cawed from afar, sending its voice ricocheting toward the open window above us. In response to this, Yuji inevitably flung himself forward, propelling you off his chest dramatically, his fight or flight activated.

“OW.” You shouted at him with a whisper, “Yuji what was that for!”

“Swear that was a curse…” He protested, a small blush creeping its way along his face, to catch him red handed for being too precautious.

“If that was a curse then I’m next in line to the throne of England.” You dismissed jokingly, and pulled him back onto the mattress, attempting to submit to sleep once more.

“It’s not my fault I’m a cautious sleeper! It was ever since that day-,” he rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah that was hilarious. When Nobara drew that penis on your face with permanent marker. Comedy gold.” You recited from memory with a laugh; for him to quickly ‘shush’ you as he says that can’t be disclosed out loud; because he thinks Sukuna will listen and take the piss out of him in-front of people in a future job interview or something. (Very unrealistic, but that’s Yuji.)

╰┈➤ toji fushiguro

he wants you to be on him, it’s rarely that he wants it the other way around, he enjoys watching your feeble attempt to climb on-top of him- thinks he’s funny. when he’s just a dick.

You were straddled across his lap, laying on his chest, enjoying the warmth emanating from his body as you cuddled together on the couch. The soft glow of the lamp nearby cast a gentle ambiance, enveloping the two of you in an adequate, snug atmosphere.

Toji’s arms (which were of ridiculous size by the way) were holding you tight, keeping you close as if he never wanted to let go. His fingers traced idle patterns down your bare back, sending shivers down your spine in the most delightful way. With your head rest of against his chest, you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, a comforting lullaby that eased any worries from your mind.

Lost in the tranquility of the moment, you closed your eyes, savouring the feeling of being so close to him. But just as you were about to drift off into a euphoric slumber, you felt a slight shift beneath you.

Opening your eyes slightly, you saw Toji’s gaze fixated on something on the floor. Following his like of sight, you noticed a glimmer of metal- a coin (with the value of approximately £2) lying forgotten on the carpet.

Confusion flickered across Toji’s face for a moment, before he awkwardly adjusted his position, subtly manoeuvring his foot to nudge the coin closer toward him. It was a comical sight to say the least- the epitome of Toji’s resourcefulness even on the most intimate of moments.

Suppressing a laugh, you watched as he pitifully/finally managed to retrieve it (after what felt like hours of him kicking it further away for him then to scoot more off the couch, and for you to almost fall off it), his expression was a mixture of triumph and amusement.

“Did you just do all of that to end up with…,” you began, trying to stifle your laughter.

“Took me a second there. But moneys money babe. Gotta get it whilst ya’ can.” Toji replied with a grin, the small scar on his lips curling along with his mouth, he held the coin up to the light attractively, as if he’d won the biggest prize at a fair ground.

“I guess every little bit counts, huh old man?” You chuckled, shaking your head in amusement and denial with the fact a grown man spent 10 minutes kicking a coin around with his foot.

“Atta girl,” he said, pocketing the coin with a shrug. “Cant let em’ go to waist ey’,” he declared with a smirk into your hair.

“Guess not,” you sighed into his chest, and he turned his attention back toward you, surrounding you with his arms once more. And despite the brief interruption, you couldn’t help but feel even more enamoured with him, finding his attractiveness in the simplicity of your shared moments- coin and all.



╰┈➤ suguru geto

this may be out of character but i can just imagine geto enjoying the simplicity of a back to back cuddle. he knows you’re there and safe with him- that’s all he asks for. however on some occasions he will completely smother you.

You and Suguru lounged on the bed, with each others backs plush against one another, the feeling of his toned back against yours made you shiver. Suguru enjoyed the simplicity of being together, not much had to happen for him to fall in love with you again as of it was the first time.

Suguru let out a contented sigh, but then a mischievous glint danced in his eyes. “‘member when Gojo tried to make pancakes?”

You burst into laughter at the memory, “How could I forget that shitshow!”

Suguru chuckled, his laughter seeping through his body, making it clear to you as his back vibrated onto yours. “He was so confident, bragging about his secret recipe like an entitled child.”

“And then he proceeded to mix up salt and sugar,” you added, shaking your head. “Poor Itadori was choking for a solid minute, on those stupid pancakes- I’ll still argue to him that they looked like boobs, with how he deliberately placed those blueberries…”

Suguru laughed heartily, moving his arm back so he could knead the plush of your inner thigh, it earned a little squeal from yourself. “And don’t forget the time when he attempted to bake a cake for Nanami’s birthday…”

“The fact that goon forgot the flour. And how he put 100 candles on the cake- I swear Nanami was about to kill him.” You exclaimed, doubling with the giddy feeling, “at the end, the cake was a dense, sugary brick.”

Suguru smiled contently, thinking about the memories which brought him joy as he drew small patterns into your thighs, up-to to your ass. “Not as dense as him.”

Just then, you felt Suguru’s grip tighten around you, his laughter subsiding. “You know you mean the world to me.” He stated. “Life with you is what makes living in this unsanitary shithole so enjoyable.”

ੈ✩‧₊˚

[iliketangerines]

Can I request oneshot of Mk1 Liu Kang x Fem s/o Jinx (Dc comics) whose power is to give bad luck because of this power she always isolates herself in fear of hurting others when she tells Liu about her power he doesn't care and still loves her anyway; she is gentle and soft spoken please?

jinx, jinx again!

a/n: i changed the personality of the reader around, but i think it makes more sense

pairing: liu kang x gn!reader

warnings: none :)

Liu Kang wonders where you are

you were a powerful champion, one with the power to turn the tides of luck and turn the war towards any one side

he had created you in this timeline with the intent to protect Earthrealm, and yet, you’re nowhere to be found on any speck of the planet

and so Liu Kang set out on a journey to find you, going through the sands of time to try and locate you with Geras to bring you to his side before Shang Tsung or anyone else could use your powers for evil

Liu Kang sighs and rubs at the headache forming in his head, it had been days since he had started looking

and yet, you were nowhere to be found, finding the other champions had not nearly been this difficult and yet here you were, unfindable

Geras calls over Liu Kang and points to something in the hourglass, a piece of sand stuck to the side, stubbornly refusing to fall in with the rest of them

Liu Kang raises his eyebrow and picks out the sand and opens its threads to show its life, and there you were

he scrolls through your life memories, searching for where you are, but now he sees why you were so hard to find

your power to change the tides had manifested as bad luck, and it had driven you away from society and only heightened your anxiety

and that heightened your powers, which turned into a never ending cycle of you falling deeper and deeper into your powers

and your powers had kept you away from Liu Kang, from forming connections with the right people to harness your powers

and so you lived in isolation in fear of harming others

Liu Kang rubs his chin as he tries to find your exact location, and he hums as he finds you, isolated high in the mountains, somehow surviving on your own despite everything

he summons a portal and tells Geras that hopefully he will be back soon with you in hand, and Liu Kang disappears

it’s snowing, trees covered in the soft powder, and the birds chirp quietly into the air as Liu Kang makes his way through the forest

he finds your house in the distance, a humble cabin barely holding itself together, and he knocks upon your door

he hears some crashing from within a house and a loud thud before the door unlatches, and you peek out from behind the door, eyes wide as you stare at him

your fingers twitch as you notice his glowing eyes and his lack of winter clothing, and he asks to enter

you shut the door in his face, and he can hear yourself mumbling to yourself, before you open the door again and ask who he is

Liu Kang tells you who he is, god of fire and protector of earthrealm, and he tells you he is here to recruit you in the defense of earthrealm

you raise your eyebrows and then laugh, cackling and howling even as Liu Kang stands in front of you with a stern face

you raise your hand up into the air, and the top of the doorway falls down right into your awaiting hands, as if you knew it was going to happen

you shove it back in place before telling him that that was a funny joke, but he shouldn’t have been able to find you in the woods

you open the rest of the door to reveal the sharp blade you carry, and Liu Kang raises his hands in surrender, trying not to provoke you any further

but he can see the way your hands slightly tremble and how your breath comes out a bit stuttered as you hold the knife towards him

Liu Kang says he truly is a god and he summons flames into his hand to show you

you look at him in surprise and nearly drop the knife into the snow, and you fumble with it, managing to cut yourself in the process

you hiss out in pain and press your thumb into your mouth, trying to clean the wound as Liu Kang looks upon you

he tells you he has the answer to your plight, that he can cure your bad luck if you come with him to train and defend earthrealm

you look up at him with quirked eyebrows, surprised that he even knew of your terrible luck

he summons a portal behind him, one that led to his academy, and he gestures that you can take his offer, to control your powers and make friends and to build connection

your eyes dart between the portal and your rickety home, unsure if you should leave everything behind

you always had bad luck, and it drew everyone away from you

you bounced from home to home, from school to school as your bad luck harmed everyone else and you

now, you have a chance to get rid of your bad luck, to make the human connection you so desperately craved after years in isolation

you spin in a circle and step out from under the doorway as the top of it falls down again

you don’t catch it and let it fall into the snow as you take a deep breath and take Liu Kang’s hands

he’s warm, warmer than anyone you’ve ever experienced, and he gives you a small smile before leading you through the portal to your new life

[queen-mabs-revenge]

Why Peter Parker Was Not 15 When He Was Bit: A Treatise

This was originally a twitter thread but in an effort to save the one thing I actually care about having posted there from whatever the fuck is going on, here we go!

While early on there aren't any outright 100% indisputable references to Peter's age (i.e. himself or Aunt May just saying it outright on the page), from the very beginning of publishing, there have been enough references that give a firm grounding to Peter being a senior in high school throughout the first 28 issues of Amazing Spider-Man.

ASM 8 (Jan 1964)

Right off the bat in Amazing Spider-Man 8 (a tribute to teenagers xoxo you will always be famous) we get our first definitive mention that Peter and his classmates are in their senior year of high-school at the very least from this point on in the narrative.

ASM 14 (Jul 1964); ASM Annual 1 (Oct 1964)

Peter himself states this 6 issues later trying to wheedle Aunt May into letting him go to Hollywood on assignment from JJJ to cover Spider-Man's cinematic debut in a film role offered to him by the Green Goblin (in his first comic appearance. When I say I love the Silver Age.) ASM Annual 1 confirms that the gang is in their senior year yet again.

This is already stupid long so the rest goes behind the cut!

This isn't something that's just dropped in the Silver Age and then forgotten. 26 years after those first mentions, Web of Spider-Man Annual 4 makes a call back to Amazing Spider-Man 3 and places that moment in Peter's senior year of high-school:

Left: WOS Annual 4 (Oct 1988); Right: ASM 3 (Jul 1963)

While on tour to promote the Bugle-produced book of his Spider-Man photography, WEBS, Peter states on a TV interview that a photo of his first encounter with Doc Ock was taken while he was a senior in high school.

"But Mabs," I hear you say, "so what if he's in his senior year in ASM! Even if that's true, that doesn't mean he was in his senior year in Amazing Fantasy 15, and that still doesn't establish an age! He's a super mega genius so like....he probably skipped grades, prodigy that he is! And there was a time gap btw AF15 and ASM1, right?"

Alright let's go through this. As mentioned earlier, yeah, references to Pete's age are very few and far between and are a bit wobbly but let's put them together. The first age ref we get is in ASM 16:

ASM 16 (Sep 1964)

Here our favorite public defender is "rescued" from a mugging by the webslinger. After Peter fucks off, Matt gives us the above rundown of Spidey's characteristics: about 17, 5'10" and in excellent health. So "about 17" which, granted, doesn't have to mean exactly 17 but since we've established that at this point Peter is def in senior year, based on NYS age matriculation dates, Matt's probably spot on.

New York State matriculates students based on the age they are on December 1st of a school year. A 1976 edition of school regulations lays out the process: "[a] child who attains the age of 5 by December 1 of the current school year must be admitted to the kindergarten if a district operates such a program". So this means that within the same kindergarten class, kids born from the beginning of the school year to November 30th would be turning 5, while kids born from December 1 through the end of the school year would turn 6 during the school year, and kids born over the summer would also turn 6 but wouldn't celebrate during the school year.

Following that, Sept through Nov babies would be 16-going-on-17 in the beginning of their senior year, Dec - June would be 17-going-on-18 during senior year, June - Aug would turn 18 after graduation.

Peter being 17 or 18 during the high-school run of ASM just makes sense and there's nothing in the writing up until this point to push against that! In fact, when you first start seeing the de-aging of Peter creep in, AF15 literally had to be changed to make a younger age fit!

AF 15 (Aug 1962)

ASM Annual 23 (Sep 1989)

The very first time we see 15 floated as an age when Peter becomes Spider-Man is in the Amazing Spider-Man annual 23 of 1989. The annual is trying to present itself as Peter scientifically studying his own origin story, so the direct parallels to AF15 make it really clear when it's retconning the original to make sense with the younger age.

The panel where ASMAnn23 states Peter is 15 is otherwise a near word-for-word quote of AF15. Then later, the cognate panel of Peter in science class changes AF15's "you're sure to rate a scholarship when you graduate" to "in a couple of years when you graduate, you're sure to rate a scholarship." (Gerry Conway back at it again). This is the first time there's ever a hint at his story not being centered around his senior year, and that was made explicit in this issue by changing the original dialogue in order to justify stating he was a 15 year old in this recollection of AF15!

This is also an argument against the 'skipped grades' premise. Conway could have easily just left the text of AF15 as it was which would hint that Peter was obviously very young for being a senior in high school, but instead he tried to push AF15 back in time to fit a usual high-school timeline for a 15 year old (who would be at the earliest a December baby in their freshman year and the latest a Sept-Nov baby in sophomore year, and would be 'a couple of years' away from graduating).

Plus, fr if you're gonna argue that he skipped grades, it's on you to prove that. There are literally zero references to that throughout 616 continuity so like, why tf should it be taken as given? Please.

Anyway. And so are sown the seeds for torturing the already stretched timeline to make Peter an uwu baby infant. They didn't take right away. References to age go away after this and only resurface in 1994 (as far as I could see), where we see him aged back up:

ASM 395 (Nov 1994)

'I can't believe I was only sixteen when that spider bit me' actually makes sense with all of ASM being established as fully in Peter's senior year, Matt gauging him at 'about 17' in ASM 14, the age matriculation cut off for NYS schools, and the timeframe established between AF15 and ASM Annual 1 from 1964:

ASM Annual 1 (Oct 1964)

ASM Annual 1 (which I mentioned earlier as yet another point establishing Peter as being in his senior year) also has this little timestamp. Peter is watching Aunt May mourn for Uncle Ben and mentions that Ben's death was 'months ago'. Granted, that's in no way specific but I feel like it establishes at least a rough timeframe for the intended time gap between AF15 and ASM -- and it's not years.

And to be honest, there's really only one space in the narrative that allows for a time gap at all (Stan is really attached to his 'a few minutes later!' 'later that day!' pacing let me tell you!)

AF 15 (Aug 1962) page 9, panel 1

While the narration box says 'In the days that follow' it seems like we can take that colloquially considering the stream of newspaper headlines. For all of that to take place, I feel like it's not a massive stretch to allow this panel at the very least a month or so, which gives a bit of breathing room between when Peter lets the burglar run away and when Uncle Ben is murdered. (Which if you think about it a delayed dropping of the other shoe actually makes it worse! So how about that!). But between this and ASMAnn1, I don't think you can argue for years taking place in this gap which would have to be the case for a 15-year-old bite timeframe.

So if Peter's bit his senior year, for him to be 16 when he's bit he has to be born between the beginning of the school year and November 30th (because school has to be in session when he's bit). Which fits with the official New York City 2012 declaration of his birthday being October 14:

If he's 16 when bit in his junior year (again, school has to be in sesh), you've got to decide when from December of his junior year to the end of the school year makes sense for him to be bit with the rest of the time markers and how long you're gonna give to the time skip in AF15 for it all to qualify as just 'months' up to ASMAnn1. Which definitely can be done, especially if you AF15 pages 1-8 near the end of his jr year, put the time skip over the summer between junior and senior year, and rest of pages 9-11 in his senior year. In some ways this option makes a bit more sense, to be honest!

The way I personally like to square it is to go with all of AF15 and ASM1-28 happening in Peter's senior year (which he reaches without skipping grades) interpreting the 'when you graduate' in the AF15 panel referring to the same school year. If he's 16, the bite happens sometime before his birthday which has to be before Nov. 30th and, sure, why not Oct 14 -- it fits. A month or so passes between when he gets bit and starts his show-biz stint, and when Ben gets murdered. That means the last 3 pages of AF15 (bar the first panel on pg 9) to ASM28 spans from some time in December of his senior year to the end of the school year.

(If you don't care if he was 16 or 17 when he was bit, AF15 - ASM28 can take place any time from the second half-ish of his junior year to the end of his senior year, you can decide how many 'months' the time skip is in AF15, pick his birthday out of a hat, and Matt's "about 17" could mean 18, too. Have a ball.)

But in any case whichever way you choose to spin it, this shit is dumb and wrong:

Civil War 2 (Aug 2006)

and especially deserves to be memory holed for the ridiculous de-aging of Peter Parker that has subsequently been pushed into popular memory and continues throughout current Marvel 'brand synergy'. Sad and bad!

[earth-64]

My Journey in Understanding Comics - Part 2

--

Part 1 is not required reading. In fact, I will refrain from even linking it here. Every blog post is someone’s first.

--

It shouldn’t be embarrassing to admit that I needed to have “comic books” explained to me. Yet I feel ashamed that I allowed the entire medium to exist within a hair’s breadth of my cultural understanding for so long. I’ve already gone over my select few childhood run-ins with comics, as well as the false-start that nearly was my first paper-comic obsession* (*See “My Journey in Understanding Comics” #1! - Ed.), so my story this time will start in November of 2023. 

I was working a mundane job at a manufacturing facility. Full-time hours of applying stickers to pieces of foam, or punching out holes in paper, or assembling little devices of god-knows-what, praying that for every life-saving defibrillator adhesive pad I quality-checked that the insulation padding I was shape-forming wasn’t destined for a war machine. It was a place of room-sized printing presses, massive machines that shaped and cut materials with the power of water-jets, and dark laboratory backrooms with more nausea-inducing chemicals filling the air than oxygen. While I didn’t end up falling into vats of any of the horrifically powerful bleaches we used to clean the printing screens (although I did retire home early on a number of occasions from dizziness caused by breathing in acetone), it was here that I had way too much time on my hands and binged podcasts. 

I was devouring 10 hours of audio content a day, from audio dramas to history lessons to comedy sketches. The hardest part of the job became satiating my hunger for endless content. After exhausting “Midnight Burger” and Penumbra’s “Juno Steel”, I listened through all of Tim Roger’s “Action Button” reviews in audio-form. On recommendation from my girlfriend, that made a natural transition into gulping down hundreds of episodes of “Insert Credit”. Among other branching paths (I recommend “They Create Worlds” and “Video Game History Hour”), I was led through Alex Jaffe to “52 Pick Up”.

“52 Pick Up”, hosted by Alex Jaffe and Gita Jackson, discusses DC’s 2006-2007 weekly comic book “52” issue by issue. I dipped my toe into it with hardly any context: it had been many years since I read comics, very little of that had been DC. Certainly none from around the time “52” was published, and certainly not any that would provide any helpful context to “52”. I cannonballed into the the deep end, albeit without risk of drowning: if the podcast hosts helped me stick the landing then I would be opened to a whole new world of possibilities, if I was just utterly lost by the interwoven plot threads and greater context of the comic then I would just shrug it off and go back to the comforting familiarity of learning about unreleased Nintendo knitting machines* (* “VGHH” #117! - Frank ( - not Frank)). This isn’t the iTunes review section so I’ll spare you from me simply pasting in the glowing review I left for them, but rest assured that “52 Pick Up” does its job of introducing someone to the context of comic books tremendously well. I was hooked, and have not missed a bi-weekly wednesday since. 

However, it wasn’t enough to break the floodwall I had erected after the comic-related disaster I had beared the full brunt of so many years ago. I followed “52” and kept saying to myself “I think I’ll subscribe to that DC mobile app, and read some of the surrounding context”, but I never pulled the trigger on that purchase. My interest was piqued, I was given the on-ramps, taught all the techniques from a master of comics knowledge, and yet I could not begin the simple act of reading. 

I hold the act of consumption on a higher pedestal than it deserves. I regularly find myself hesitating to consume. Is this the right time? How will this work affect me? “Are you ready?” I ask myself, fighting back my natural instinct to presume anything unknown to me is not “for me”. 

In February of 2024 I finally made a concession: I would start with something I felt I was closer to. Something that wouldn’t be “out of character” for me to consume. I had already been into “Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure” for some years, so I turned to manga, and read “Dragon Ball”. This isn’t the place for me to put all my thoughts on “Dragon Ball”. Know simply that it was a prime example of works of fiction finding me at exactly the right moment in my life, affecting me tremendously, with Toriyama’s passing happening right in the nearly exact middle of my readthrough. My dad had treated “Dragon Ball” with the same disdain as Wrestling or Football as I was growing up, something that wasn’t “for me”, something dumber, barbaric. 

Comic books were his thing, and manga was not my thing. Before I moved out I had to find ways to justify things as being “my thing”. Webcomics were a natural extension of an interest in video games, manga was an eventual gap bridged by years of anime expos and the absurdity of “Jojo’s”, but “Dragon Ball”, among many other things, remained unreachable. 

Now that I live on my own there are no gaps between works of fiction that need filling. My brain still often tricks me into thinking I cannot leap over the vast chasms that separate genres and mediums, but it is only the residual fear of being perceived as not being myself. There is no longer anyone in my daily life that has known me for a great amount of time, no one to police me to stay true to my platonic self. I have to remind myself that I can choose to wake up and be a whole new person if I so wish. Any day could be the day I decide to start being a person who reads comic books.

In late July 2024 I found the catalyst: a copy of Scott McCloud’s “Understanding Comics: The Invisible Art”.  It was a book always on my radar as being something that I would get a kick out of, but I never wanted to just read a scan of it. I knew it deserved to be read physically, but I never had the drive to order a copy. In the end it needed to appear before me, on the shelf of the thrift store I regular, as a spur of the moment purchase. I’ll again spare you from a full overzealous review, but it was exactly what I needed. “This is what a comic book is. This is why it’s important. This is why it’s for everyone.” That’s what I needed to hear. I needed someone to lay it all out, label all the pieces, explain the history, and tell me that comics can be for me. 

In August my friends decided to marathon some of the X-Men movies. All the stars aligned: I had the knowledge, the motivation, the relief from social permission. No, not a relief. A triumph. I had triumphed over a lifetime of social pressure, of expectations and preconceived notions. I didn’t need to hide my mood-swing dips into unfamiliar media. I didn’t need to be ashamed of stepping outside my comfort zone. The version of myself in others’ heads are their own flawed snapshots of pieces of my true self, not a script they write for me to follow and fear. I could be anything I wanted.

I could be someone subscribed to Marvel Unlimited. 

The conclusion to our thrilling three-part epic is up next in our amazing tale of self-reflection and ceaseless inner-discovery awaits! You don’t wanna miss it true believers!

[popculturebuffet]

More than Meets the Eye Retrospective: Dark Cybertron Part 1

Hello all you happy autobots and welcome back to my long look at Transformers More Than Meets The Eye. When we last left I looked at the sister comic, Robots in Disguise.

But a necessary one for Today's review: Dark Cybertron, a crossover between both books.

Dark Cybertron is the cumilation of a plot that had been slowly building in the background of Robots in Disguise while Bumblebee dithered, Prowl tried to install a dictatorship long before he got a bug in his brain telling him to keep going with that, and Starscream was awesome. Shockwave has been up to SOMETHING over the issues, working with his mentor Jhiaxus.

Chasing Jhiaxus in the best part of RiD was Optimus Prime, redubbing himself Orion Pax out of disgust with the legacy of the primes, alongside his friends Hardhead, Wheelie and Garnak, who soon found themselves chasing Jhiaxus. Mr J eventually lured them to a dead planet, where he and Waspinator, yes the boy himself, ignited a titan and made tracks for cybertron while leaving our heroes to their deaths as Shockwave held back Soundwave and his decepticons , igniting his final plan.

It's here that mystery plan comes to fruition as the lost lighters split up gang to help save the unvierse, while Bumblebee and his Cavlcade of Fuckups, and also Arcee try to stop the apocalypse and Starscream gets a new paint job as he tries to hold on for dear life to his throne with a big ole event.

This crossover's notable for a few reasons: it's the first proper event comic for the transfomers: While there had been previous event style arcs with All Hail Megatron and Chaos and crossovers with the IDW wide Infestation and the marvel crossover Transformers/New Avengers, which also means the new avengers and likely all of marvel exisit in this unvierse.

But this is the first crossover between books within the line, something that would become a tradition as IDW liked money and Hasbro liked free advertising for whatever they were doing in the toys at the time, either threading in designs from their current lines or in the case of combiner wars and titans return, just straight up having IDW model their events to match the toyline. . This lead to the ambitious and failed Hasbro Universe with Revolution, and the universe even ends on one with Unicron.

Ironically though.. this is the ONLY one to loop in more than meets the eye. And thank Primus for that. Look i'm not anti-event comic, sometimes an event can be a total banger. For a recent example see Marvel's Judgement Day. But the big two tend to do events and crossovers EVERY damn year, not giving books a chance to rest or status quos to breathe for a bit. So having More than Meets the Eye sit that shit out is a fucking relief.

It's also from a practical standpoint as this crossover shows both creative teams had trouble meshing the two together: the narrative splits into four plot threads, one in the dead universe with Optimus, Rodimus and CO, one with the rest of the lost light , one with the cavlcade of fuckups and one with god emperor starscream. the latter two evnetually intersect and the two casts DO interact towards the end of the crossover.. but in the six issues i'm covering today the only ones to interact with the lost lighters are Starscream in a brief video call and Optimus in one of the main plots. It's clear that while the two writers liked each other.. they may not of known entirely how to make the two casts function together, and thus kept them to their corners.

The result isn't a bad story but a fractured one. I will say upfront I won't be able to judge the story as a whole till next time, but I needed to do it in two parts as it's a big boy and there's a lot to go over. So join me under the cut as darkness falls over cybertron, titans rise, and rodimus gets a new toy so stupid it will bite him in the ass for the rest of the comic. IT's Dark Cybertron and it's under the cut.

We open with Nova Prime's crew. Nova Prime was a prime who was seen as a great one.. but in reality was an supremacist piece of scrap who wanted to conquer all other forms of life. He will not be missed. Among him are our boy Cyclonus and Jhiaxus, who tells Shockwave to FINISH MY WORK.

In the present.. Shockwave almost has, having seeded ores aroudn the galaxy and experimenting on a titan, both the same one that declared Starscream chosen one and then vanished.. and that Waspinator just brought home. It starts screaming in terror and bleeding out it's eyes

Elsewhere on Cybertron, Starscream woke up from a nap to find a few hours ago the sun rose.. and hasn't gone down. He also has a new all red everything paintjob, a familiar one

As i've been told and found out.. this is Starscream's look from Transformers Armada, which I did watch when it was coming out but entirely forgot this is what Starscream looked like because my memory is quicksand and only few things escape it like X-men trivia.

It's.. not my faviorite. It's almost ENTIRELY red and whlie it does look better in later shots, it's just not as fun to look at as his classic look and while he'll keep this look for the windblade mini series, i'ts telling the artists reverted to his old standby as soon as they could. The Armada look isn't bad and looking at stills from teh anime it loks GREAT there.. but it's a bit too one note for the page, at least these pages.

Starscream decides to call the autobots for help.. not the ones he exiled, an I told you so from prowl is death in it's purest form, no OUR autobots.

For now though we cut back to Optimus. Since we last left him he and his crew are trying to escape.. and luckily run into some old friends

I love this so much. Unsuprisingly Swerve made it his ring tone. Naturally Rodimus dove in anyway to save his old friend/boss/dad.

Rodimus shows his dad around, which really feels like a teenager accidently exposing his dad to all the stuff his dumbass friends do while trying to be respectible. The wind's taken out of his sails by Ultra Magnus who asks if Optimus is taking command with all the tact and grace he's known for.

Optimus isn't, he's only here for the guest spot , he's got his own leading roll to play in the other books, but he is happy to get the tour. .until Starscream calls. Screamer of course can't help but passively agressively brag about how he was elected in by popular demand after bumblbee fucked up hard

Then asks Cyclonus for help since he knows the dead universe better than anyone. The Dead Universe is a parasite, a universe that should fucntion right but is instead both sentient and EVILLLL. And it's hungies.

Back on Cybertron, Team Fuckup is starring in horror and the Dinobots want to punch the fuck out of the sun. Bumblbee tells them to wait for it... and granted he's telling them not to punch a bright light on the horizon, something even prowl can tell is stupid which tells you something, but honestly after the last two years worth of comics, the bar for Bumlebee's competence is low.

He ends up being right as the necrotitan lands. Meanwhile Shockwave goes into a whole rant about hwo this is all ineveitible that has a bunch of vauge images and two optimus primes about ot throw hands for some reason. none of this is relevant to the rest of the crossover, it's a clear misdirect and it sure does exist. The real point is who he's talking to: Nova Prime and Galvatron, who somehow returned. Also Galvatron and Megatron are two seperate people in this continuity, happens a lot, moving on.

Onto chapter 2 and Team Fuckup's strategy is now suns out guns out.. though Bumblebee's redemption arc continues as when the Autobots want to punch the giant, Bumlebee tells them no and tells them to either get in line or fuck righ toff, which actually gets them to listen. Seems Bee got a spine with his new form and I like it. After 20 some issues of him listening to whoever yelled the loudest while ignoring the people he's supposed to be serving, this is nice. It's clear field command fits him better.

He does have a bit of an exestial crisis wondering if this is the titan that choose starscream and I THINk it is. I'm not sure. But either way it's here and i'ts big.

Back with Team Rodimus, Brainstorm tells Optimus the dead unvierse is alive and that's why going into the dead universe is tricky: it'll kill anything it senses shouldn't be there. Luckily he has a plan.. and a weird creepy parsite in a jar. It's also so fun seeing the straightlaced optimus interact with the lost lighters. So dang good seeing Chromedome resisit the urge to condescend to Optimus.

Back with Starscream he's doing what any sensible cybertronian would do in this situation: GET HIS GUN. Or a lot of them hidden in a closet Rattrap is telling him to come out of. Please everyone knows Starscream as pansexual as fuck. Rattrap urges caution.. which is like saying it's tuesday but still when Starscream is whiffing it you know it's .. also tuesday but also probably an issue.

Back on the lost light we get a great scene as Rodimus, Magnus and Optimus hit swerves. Magnus is curious if they should be having command discussions in a bar but Rodimus for once isn't snippy, which tells us deep shit is a comin: he simply wants to be by his men.. granted he regrets that when he finds Swerve taking photos but for once Swerve is also not as flip: it's three of the greatest autobots of all time, on the preciipce of SOMETHING happening, something they call feel.. that shared feeling of dread. Something's coming and it ain't good.

The trio get a text from brainstorm: He's ready. This being brainstorm the most he has is a palm thing that keeps the dead universe from killing you using the venom of a monster from there he keeps in a jar. Granted this is only because it's short notice.

So our heroes come up with a plan: split up. Rodimus, Optimus, Hardhead and Cyclonus (Since he has experince) will go into the dead universe to plug whatever stygian hole is leaking. Wheelie and Garnak will stay by in Optimus' ship to pick them up after. Meanwhile the Lost LIght will head after Jhiaxus. Magnus is doubtful he can lead.. but Rodimus perks him up, assuring him he can do this: he may of been thorugh a lot.. but this is his comfort zone: "You're chasing a war criminal and i'm leaping into the unknown"

Back on cybertron Starscream talks with Scoops, a cybertronian ratrap framed for him and who belivies in screamer's prophecy. And as it turns out Screamer REALLY shoudl've payed attention to what that prophecy was or asked or.. anything other than accept it as face value as it turns out he's pegged as a "false leader" one who will bring on the coming darkness... "The stars shall scream and the symbol of the uncreator shall become clear" and said symbol is.. not encouraging to screamer or us

Anyways back to Shockwave: he's talking to Nova, and reveals the space bridge in the Necrotitan isn't working.. but luckily he has a backup plan: megatron.

We end the issue with two more cut tos: in the dead unvierse, Team Rodtimus fight some parasites hoping to snack on them since the signal their using reads "FOOD' to them and while they get away from them fine.. someone else notices. more on him soon. Back with Team Fuckup, the Calvary arrives: SOUNDWAVE BABY.

Part 3 begins with Starscream, whose assuring his adoring public.. only for a meteor to apparnetly land near the titan.

Speaking of shooting the Autobots wage a war to destroy the not so evil forces of Soundwave, only for the metor thing ot distract them too.

Before our next plot point let's talk about this series pacing as you might of noticed the last paragraph or two was just "this plot point, now this". And that's because the series likes to jump around, jump around, get up get up and get down. It has FOUR plots it's juggling and rarely do the issues just.. focus on one or two, especially early on. So each issue is bouncing around several subplots often for just two pages at a time. I don't mind a big story having to move around, but you have to let things settle for a minute. Let a plot point marinate a bit. I shouldn't feel rushed in a 12 issue crossover. 12 issues is a LOT for a story, again why this is a two parter. We do get some good character stuff like Bee growing a spine, a lot of it feels like a reahash. For instance did we need the starscrema going to get his gun scene? no we coudl've had rattrap suggest talking to scoops earlier. None of this is bad and some of the character stuff is necessary: Rodimus showing optimus around both moves the plot along with starscream's call and is objectively hilaroius. But a lot of it feels like thumb twiddling to get to the next plot point. We probably coudl've compacted most of team fuckups scenes into half an issue, if that. It feels like their cutting to each plot to make it seem important instead of carring how a story should progress. It feels like the writers took turns with scenes instead of truly colaberating on the crossover an das a result we just jump jump jump.

So we jump! Jump for the plot to our next point: the lost light where their being pushed off course... turns out Metroplex's thumb what got embedded in the ship after the annual is alive again.. and Getaway knows why: Tyrest, for all his madness, once said you can find a titan with a titan.. and figures Metroplex is trying to reunite with itself.

At the Necrotitan, Team Fuckup sadly gets back to buisness as usual.. arguing with each other. Fortuantely this time, Bumblebee.. is still a compitent leader. He's still on "wait for it" mode.. because they really CAN'T do anything and attacking a giant statue is a death warrant, and he's taken Team Soundwave's help as while they aren't on great terms, they have the same goal: Stop Shockwave. Prowl takes this with the grace, dignity and cool he's known for

God it's good to hear ANYONE, especially Bumblebee, tell Prowl to "shut up for once". And Bee's not wrong. While wait and hope things go well was a TERRIBLE strategy when Bee was running the planet and all it did was get starscream on the throne and all of them exiled, in this case.. their facing a giant cybertronian with weird glowing eyes who they can't really understand. As we'll learn shortly titans function SORT'VE like regular transformers, but are so giant, massive and ancient their hard to parse. A small band of semi-reformed fuckups, an asshole, and a bunch of casette tapes and their player/dad isn't REMOTELY enough to stop that thing and interacting with it might just piss it off.

And sure enough Starscream seemingly prooves that hypothesis as he tries to manipulate it by talking to it.. only for it to explode into 2 or 3 pages of purple light. And This.. I like> it lets the MAGNITUDE of this thing's power play out, it's sudden, and it's shocking, and the effects afterwords aren't good as Arcee is out, the death wave having taken down their forces. once again Prowl won't shut the fuck up, wanting them to attack... and bee brushes him off essentially asking

He points out the death wave, his words not mine, is heading towards the city and despite Starscream's efforts.. it goes off. Shooting the titan would've eithe rdone nothing or set this off SOONER. There is NOTHING they can do and that.. works for me. As douchey as Prowl's being which, par for the course and all that aside, you understand his want to do SOMETHIGN.. but their in a situation where all they can do is just sit, wait, and HOPE they can figure something out. Shockwave said it best as Starscream tried talking to the titan. "We were all too late from the beginning". Unlike the bulk of the comic thus far sitting and reacting is all they have. .because they don't know the full scope of what's going on here. WE as an audience don't know what the hell the necrotitan just did: I only have it's name thanks to the wiki.

The wave not only hurt the living.. but wakes the dead as Metalhawk is back, on the bad guy's side now.. and pisssssseeed. Starscream to his credit reacts more with "Oh goody another cherry on the shit sundae that is today." but he still gets stabbed and Metalhawk is taking Megatron, bye. While Scoops goes to help people, the citzens surround starscream, his star falling.

On the lost light thei rleft with a decision: follow Jhiaxus.. or follow the severed thumb. Ratchet dosen't wanna as he feels their back in the "autobots mainstream" again... but Brainstorm disagrees.. and Perciptor shockingly AGREES: an ancient god has asked them to come find him, and given the end of days is going on back at home, an ancient god could REALLY come in handy right now. Magnus agrees and they head to a planet full of blood red water. At least I hope it's water. THey go deep into planet danzig, and find a horde of microbots ready to tear them apart. These are the amonites from the 25th issue adn they aren't happy.

Closing out the issue Shockwave prepares to make Megatron into a spacebridge. It's very impressive and not at all healthy.

Chapter 4 begins back with the lost light and with good art for those portions again! Yeah while i've glossed over it because this is a LOT of comics to go over and i'm already behind, the art for the lost light sections of parts 2 and 3 is once again by James Raiz, who has a very sketcyhy lifeldian style.. and not bein ga fan of those styles in general, I like it even lest on the quippy, weird lost light. It dosen't fit at all and the lack of expresssion dosen't really work with characters who thrive on expression even when they got no mouths.

It also works as we get bits like Brainstorm trying to hop onto Perciptor's exposition and Magnus announcing himself as "duly apointed enforcer of the tyrest accord" before remembering "Oh yeah the horrifying events of the last arc right. Just an autobot now". I'ts a bit funny but also very sad. All it gets is the super combinining amonites blowing up their window.

Back on cybertron the mob turns on starscream, with Scoops rightfully calling him out for dooming them and pointing out the black mark on him as a sign.. whne really he just tried to schmooze an elder god of a robot, but semantics. poitn is time is running out for our faviorite boy.

Back on planet Danzig, Skids remembers the amonites and wonders why their pissed.. forgetting they you know, ended their forever war and one of them tried to kill thunderclash, something the lost light prevented. Take your pick.

With the Lost Light too big a target the crew decides to split up: they have a few water vechiles and half of the aquabots, so they should be fine, but they still need more... so Magnus gets an idea: they'll take the rodpod. Like the audience Getaway wonders "what the fuck is that" before we gaze on it in all ti's glory.. or as glorious as it is as for some reason we're suddenly back to raiz art.

Yes the rodpod, which Magnus was worried about as naturally Rodimus loves this stupid fucking thing as mucha s I do. But Skids is banking on Rodimus' short attention span.

The important thing here, besides this very hilariously stupid thing happened in a major crossover and that's awesome, is Getaway's reaction. His disguist, his sheer confusion.. for now it just comes off as most people's reaction to this ego piece who aren't used to Rodimus shit by now. But true to roberts.. this bit is one of the MAIN REASONS why we still had to cover this crossover. It's not the only one but this one small character moment.. ends up changing the entire course of this entire comic and our heroes lives forever. Yes the RODPOD is so rediculous and breaks a man's brain so bad, it has deep lasting conseqeunces that will last to the finale of this comic. I love that more than words.

Our heroes take the rodpod out for a spin, and while Rung kills a guy, and it's awesome, our heroes blow up a giant super combined amonite as they apparently have no upper limit but no upper limit dosen't mean "can't blow up real good"

Back to the dead Universe where Optimus deals with some squabbling from the kids

See this.. really shows the contrast between the two styles: the bickering over with Team Fuckup is annoying at times, bette rin this series but still annoying. The banter between the lost light on the other hand feels both more genuine and funnier. And I get the quippy style isn't for everyone: The MCU has gotten some fatigue fo rthat.. but I like a bit of back and forth. it shoudln't be the whole thing, and MTMTE succeeds largley because the characters are deeply made as well as deeply hilaroius, but a little humor helps. It breaks up the dark exesntial terror of everything to occasoinally have things like Rodimus' stupid headship he built for his own amusment or Optimus being about 5 mintues from turning this dead universe around so help me god.

Yet the questions he brings up .. arne't unfair as his next cuts deep: if Optimus had asked him to stay, would he have? And the answer.. is yes. Yet what cuts deeper.. is optimus response: He has the utmost faith in Rodimus and the progress he's made.. and it's clear form his silence he both regrets he's hardly made any and the choices he HAS made. He saved the world, something he rightfully rubbe din Hardhead's face as he was one of the many who nearly died thanks to Tyrest's attmepted genocide, but it's clear the thigns he's done weigh on rodimus: Would staying have helped? Could he have made a bette cybertron?

And the hard answer is.... no. Him staying wouldn't of been a good thing: he didn't want to be there, none of the bots who left really had ideas for a new better cybertron and MORE autobots wasn't going to fix a situation where autobots being there at all was causing tension with the nails. The sad truth is Bumblebee failed not because Rodimus left, but because he didn't have any plan other than "We want to retain power" , and with a throng of people crying for a better government and something NEW that was never going to happen.

The ironic thing is while Rodimus is on a quest for the old... his going out, exploring, doing daring due war or no war.. IS something new. He's letting his bots be who they are, having down time, movie nights, open bars. Sure he's also shoved some of them into very bad situations, the whole overlord mess was a waking nightmare and should never have happened and swerve shooting rung is ENTIRELY his fault. Rodimus, like Bee, often tries to lead like this is war time instead of a shaky peace. Yet despite also operating from that style.. he's casual enough and caring enough deep down that his bots.. get to have lives. Be who they want to be. He's not yelling tat them for daring to want to not shoot people or trying to create infastructure, he's just like "when I need you, do your fucking job bro". He may be embarassed around optimus.. but his letting his crew be people instead of weapons is better than Bee trying to lead like this is a war of attrition and not "what comes after" or Prowl acting like the war neve rended and a shiny new police state is better and not what caused the war in the first place.

OUr heroes soo seen Cyclonus is bleeding.. and soon have bigger issues as Nightbeat has arrived.

Back on cybertron Prowl sucks suprising no one wanting AGAIN to attack the giant robot that just wiped out hal fof them despite having no plan other than "shoot it REAL hard" Bee once again calls him out

He brused Prowl's ego enough to actually get him to pause.. well huff like a child but Prowl does have soundwave scan the city, which picks up something bad: Megatron SCREAMING as Shockwave both turn shim into a bridge and tries to get him to join. He naturallyr efuses ESPECAILLY since the primes are involved, so instead of joining in the new world order.. he gets prime coming out of his chest.

We end the issue on Team Magnus as they find Metroplex.. and end up in his eye socket.. which is hollowed out. Which is impressive but horrifying. And also not very healthy.

Onto part 5, and Shockwave is helping his pawns out of a screaming megatron's chest

When Team Fuckup arrives... Bumblebee has no idea what Shockwav'es doing but it end snow.

It dosen't though because Metalhawk is here, and Bumblbee's attempts to pull an "I know your in there somewhere fight", failed as Metalhawk is consumed by vengance and purple stuff. Skywarp attempts to just free megatron but his teleporting fails.

Prowl questions WHY Shockwave is helping nova.. not getting that maybe, just maybe the One Eyed Two Horned Grounded Purple Plotter whose already manuvered you all like chess pieces.. is using them as pawns for something much worse. Either way he gives Nova time to escape and his best buddy Waspinator time to bring him the staff Waspinator used to awaken the titan and summons it as if it were one of his x-men.. and has it crush them as if it were his juggernaught.

Back to the dead universe, let's talk about Nightbeat: Nightbeat is an autobot detective. During Nova Prime's previous plot, he had a thing installed in Nightbeat's head to turn the poor guy into his sleeper agent. Unfortunately for him he again picked a detective and one of the best at that so while he coudln't do much, Beat at least figured out he was being brainwashed and after shooting Hardhead had enough will to beg heardhead to shoot him.

So naturally his sudden return is a lot for everyone to process. As for how the shore he died on WAS connected to the dead unvierse, Optimus correctly guesses he got swept in with the tide. We get a sense of Nightbeat's personality too, as doing a simple look at Cyclonus tells him about Tailgate's near injury: he has facial scars, they were self inflicted, and they were patched recently. Cyclonus responds to this invasion of privacy mixed with genuine sympathy by trying to choke a bitch.

Back with team fuckup they TRY to count up their wounded.. but they hav ebigger issues: Megatron is craddling Ironhide crisis on infinite earth's style, before Galvatron rips him the fuck in half, starting his streak at one and declaring WHOS NEXT.. and somehow that's not their biggest issue as the titan is still active and shockwave is now in control.

Back in the dead universe, we find out how Nightbeat survivied: he was dead going through the portal and sense dead equals alive in this universe, he's spared. Sorta like how a healing spell usually hurts a zombie in an rpg just reversed.

At any rate he has some bad news for cyclonus: his hand generator thingy broke nad the Dead Universe has reclaimed him.. and he also has time to ominously say "your all home now" before triggering a giant force field around them. Turns out his death didn't undo his sleeper agent brain thing and Nova has come for them.

Before we move on to our final chapter for this batch, let's look at this cover. Which I rarely do for tim's sake but this one well

It looks like Nova Prime is playing with his dolls again.

At any rate we're back with what's left of Team Fuckup: bumblbee' smissing while what's left is running from the titan. The Dinobots plan to lead it away.. but it was already going this way they just were running away from it and are only pulling a prometheus because their genuinely not fast enough to get out the side, especially with some of them carrying wounded.

Back with Team Magnus, they notice Metroplex is decaying... partly due to age as getting spare parts is hard for titans and partly due to the weird blood water all around Planet Danzig. Theya lso find that Metro's BRAIN is missing: he's still alive but without that he's clearly dying. Getaway notices something in the water and calls Swerve for help but h'es a bit busy getting his groove on

They do however find a place to drydock. Back in the dead universe, Hardhead tells his friend he's going to rekill him while Optimus fakes a fight with rodimus to tell him there's a hidden barrier. While Hardhead tries to reach him Nova arrives.

Back on cybertron Starscream's no good horrible very bad day continues as he finds not only is his mark of shame spreading, but he's not the only one dying. After getting yelled at by his second tankor today he finds the titan heading right for him and the wounded

Back on Planet Danzig, our heroes find some arrows in the dry dock.. but it takes them around in circles.. then an Amonite blows up the ship, leaving them stranded.

We end this issue and the first half of dark cybertron with Nova Prime megomanically gloating... Hardhead escapes to shut him up.. only for it not to go well> Turns out PRime is not only crazy strong, but he CRUSHES Hardheads fist in his hands and then watches the poor guy desintgrate. He has plans for those left though: he's taking them to see a new friend he's made: bumlbee whose the shiny new space bridge.

So that's where we end it? Can Team Fuckup somehow save cybertron? Did any of team magnus survivie? Can Optimus shut this dude the fuck up. Find out in april folks! Thanks for reading

[dalliansss]

or perhaps Finwë with this? 'you're being really moody today, you know?"

the red threads of fortune   by   neon yang

Finwë has discovered one sure-fire way to escape Fëanáro's nuisance of exercise programs every morning. It was very easy, really -- and the idea was given to him by his grandsons Turukáno and Findaráto when the youngsters asked Finwë to join them and baby Curufinwë in their room. So, of course, the first time this was suggested, Finwë immediately found an extra mattress and dragged it over to the room where his three youngest grandsons were sleeping.

Of course, this meant the children joined Finwë on the floor -- but the unexpected perk of it was that Fëanáro would then not dare disturb Finwë at four in the morning for accursed jogging programs around Formenos that lasted until six in the morning and left Finwë redder than chili peppers and panting and huffing and puffing as if he were going to drop dead from exhaustion and exertion within the next five minutes.

Fëanáro was loathe to disturb the children, and Finwë hugged the babies to his fluffy girth to shield himself from his eldest son. And so far, it worked.

(It's comical though, that the King of the Noldor in Aman would use his baby grandsons to shield himself, as it were, from Fëanáro's ill attempts of roping him into fitness programs.)

Today though, there is no exercise program. Instead, Finwë is given charge and care of baby Curufinwë, while everybody else runs around busy in the main keep of Formenos doing various chores or hunting. Chores! Goodness. Finwë could not quite believe how Fëanáro and Nerdanel just let everybody do chores around Formenos -- and they had no servants at all! They had a system in place, supervised by Tyelko. Chores were relegated to a specific person and rotated every week. For example, Findekáno was on kitchen duty for a week, which meant Findekáno was in charge of all meals the entire family would consume for that week. Then next week, he will transfer to laundry duty while Turukáno takes over the kitchen-- and so on, and so forth.

Finwë of course had tried to raise a peep -- his grandbabies are princes, Náro! Why would you make them do laundry?!?!?!?! -- but Fëanáro simply brushed away his father's concerns -- there is no better learning than experiencing things yourself, Atar, look how far they have come. These children will all survive with their bare hands, if the situation called for it.

But! But! But butbutbubtubtu!! BUT!

Baby Curufinwë is not in a good mood today; has not been for the entire morning, since breakfast. He is in Finwë's hold and care, because Turukáno and Findaráto, his usual babysitters, are off with Tyelko to hunt. Curufinwë has been wailing nonstop for half an hour now, and Finwë has tried every trick he could think of: funny faces, offers of cookies, lots of smooches, jiggling cha-cha -- ah! None seems to assuage the terrible sorrow Curufinwë has! Ai!

"You're being really moody today, you know?"

Finwë pouts and stands, and tries jiggling cha-cha for the third time. Baby Curufinwë wails in his hold, turns and twists, and buries his red face into his haru's chest. Jiggle jiggle. Come on, baby, what's wrong?

"Haru?"

Finwë turns. Curufinwë reduced to hiccuping sobs in his arms. Findekáno is there, big curls of dark hair pulled up into a ponytail. No gold ribbons today.

"Do you need help with Curufinwë?" Finno asks with a dimpled smile. The same dimpled smile Finwë has bestowed him through Nolofinwë. "I'm done with folding the laundry, so maybe if you wanted to rest, I can watch Curufinwë for you."

"Ai, no, it's alright, Finno, sweetheart," Finwë laughs. He looks around quickly to see if Fëanáro is anywhere near. Then he winks at his fourth eldest grandson. "If I watch the babies, your Uncle will not make me go through his convoluted exercise programs!"

Finno laughs. "Ah, right. Right. Are you certain you don't want a break, haru?" "I'll be fine, sweetheart, thank you-- oh! Wait!"

They both perk. They hear the barking and baying of Tyelko's hunting hounds. Findekáno and Finwë exchange a look, and they proceed to go to the courtyard, where Tyelko has just dismounted his horse. Findaráto and Turukáno are likewise dismounting, leaves in their hair, their cheeks flushed with the excitement and exertion of the hunt.

About twenty dogs circle Finwë and Curufinwë in a chaotic mass of wagging tails and cold noses. Curufinwë even stopped crying to peek at the happy dogs.

"We're home!" Tyelko announces. "Productive hunt this morning, haru!"

Finwë beams. "I'm proud of you all."

Then baby Curufinwë makes a whiny sound, and extends both arms toward his elder brother. Tyelko beams. "Awwwwww, little elf, you missed me?" Still grinning, Tyelko takes Curufinwë from Finwë's hold and carries his baby brother. "There there. Why're you ugly? Did you cry? I hope you didn't give Haru a hard time!"

"Not at all," Finwë grins. Beside him, Findekáno also smiles.

[namorthesubmariner]

“Namor was never white to begin with”: A look into Sub-Mariner comics, the Biracial Coding of Namor, the origins of the Atlanteans, Mutants, and the upcoming Live Action Namor

Many people who have followed me here, on twitter or my personal blog know that I have been very vocal about Namor being played by an Actor of Color for many years. I have written two major posts about this subject but also mention it in countless posts, meta, and discussions. Many of what you read here will be a repeat of that but I thought that I would gather everything into one post as well as talk about the casting of Tenoch Huerta as Namor in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)

(Jan 9th, 2019 Meta Post / June 7th, 2021 twitter thread)

“guys Namor was never white to begin with”- Saladin Ahmed, Comic Writer (source)

continued below the cut~

Namor the Sub-Mariner was created in April 1939 by Bill Everett, and for everyone who looks at the surface aka Namor's pale skin, and declares him to be a white character please look closer. Namor has always been coded as a Biracial character of color. I know many people like to apply Modern concepts to older comics but we really need to understand comics within the context and time frame when they were written to fully understand the concept behind them.

Character Design

It’s 1939, there are many characters of color used in racist or stereotypical ways within comics, many older comics have racism and racist depictions. I am not excusing this but also the main focus of this meta is to explain why Namor isn’t white. I will be posting panels that showcase Namor and Atlanteans as being coded as "other" aka non white people or simply as a non white character. I personally believe they are coded as an indigenous/native people. This was written into the character since his first comic. If you want to point out how the colors shift and change, I would like to point out to you that back in the early days of comics, the colors were unreliable, reading this article will help you to better understand how they changed, Atlantis Blues.

The very first time we see Namor, his original character design by Bill Everett depicts Namor with an angular face, arched eyebrows, pointed ears, red hair, and blue toned skin. Nothing about this screams “all american blond haired, square jawed comic book hero” because Namor wasn’t that. From his very first depiction Namor was “Othered” by his red hair and feyish ears, not to mention his character was quickly established as morally grey, making him the oldest and first comic anti-hero, as well as the oldest coded bi-racial character due to his parents being of two different races. To be Othered is defined as: one considered by members of a dominant group as alien, exotic, threatening, or inferior (as because of different racial, sexual, or cultural characteristics). People of Color are often Othered by White people in real life and in fiction.

Why do I mention the red hair? Unlike today’s perception of red hair, history usually paints characters with red hair in a negative light, such things like the “Red Headed Step Child” trope existed within Namor who was treated as an outcast both among humans and ostracized within his own people. The Red Headed Step Child trope is defined as: A child whose coloring is different from the rest of the family, often calling the Mother and Child morals into question, in addition to mistreatment happening towards the child due to the belief it was born a Bastard. Namor’s hair would later be changed to a black color.

For a further look into Namor’s character design by Everett then read: “The Brillance of Bill Everett’s Sub-Mariner, Marvel’s Superman”.

So within the first page that Namor appears it’s clear that Everett has purposefully “Othered” Namor, a character who is born of a royal mother, Princess Fen, (a Submariner later Atlantean) and sea captain Leonard McKenzie (a human). A child born of the union of sea and earth. Duality is an important aspect for Namor’s character and essential to understanding his character. Namor is never one thing, he is always more.

From Submariners to Atlanteans

What is this? Fen is a Submariner? Why yes, all the characters and backstory that you know now and has been canon since the Silver Age were never Atlantean to begin with! Everett’s race for his original characters were all called “Submariners”, no hyphen, and they lived in the ocean near Antarctica. The very first mention of Atlantis and Namor’s claim to an Atlantean heritage comes from Sub-Mariner Comics (1941) #31 claims that Namor's people are descendants of Atlantis so that was in the Golden Age and far before Namor's reentery to comics in the Silver Age. Here is a timeline of events showing how Namor came to be Atlantean and a Mutant. I’m also including Aquaman’s origins since there is often misinformation among fans as to when exactly everything was revealed.

Golden Age

April 1939 - Namor is created by Bill Everett. (It is important to note that while Namor made his first public appearance in Marvel Comics #1, he was actually created in April 1939 for Motion Pictures Funnies Weekly, a comic that was never distributed.)

November 1939 - Namor is published in Marvel Comics (1939) #1, he is shown as the first superhero to fly under his own power due to the wings on his ankles, (source) and is the first aquatic superhero. Namor is the first anti-hero in Marvel Comics. It is established that Namor is the Half Human/Atlantean (Submariner) son of Princess Fen and Sea Captain Leonard McKenzie. Grandson to Emperor Tha-Korr. Namor is born a royal prince with duel heritage of the land and sea.

November 1941 - More Fun Comics #73 - Aquaman is published, and established to be the fully human son of a human scientist who found Atlantis and used it’s secret science to give his son the ability to breath underwater. Aquaman was never created as a half human/half atlantean character like Namor.

January 1949 - Sub-Mariner Comics (1941) #31 - The first time Namor mentions that he and his people are descendants of Atlantis.

May 1954 - Human Torch (1940) #38 - Marvel (Timely/Atlas) makes a sly reference that Namor is the “Original Aquaman”

February 1955 - Sub-Mariner Comics (1941) #38 - The Origin of Namor’s Ankle Wings is revealed, which makes me believe the inspiration for the X-Men’s mutantism comes from Namor. As the prototype mutant Namor’s story is very similar to how the X-Men mutants would later come into their powers. As a teen, Namor’s ankle wings manifested during a traumatic event where his life and his mother’s life was at stake, and using his wings he was able to fly them both to freedom.

Silver Age

May 1959 - Adventure Comics #260 - Retcons Aquaman into being the Half Human/Half Atlantean son of Lighthouse Keeper Tom Curry and Atlanna of Atlantis.

Fantastic Four (1961) #4 - Namor enters the Silver Age.

Fantastic Four (1961) Annual 1 published July 1963 -  Namor is the Human/Atlantean Prince of Atlantis, and also Marvel’s First Mutant. The X-Men are first published September 1963.

“The First Known Mutant”

And that is why Marvel calls Namor their “First Mutant” because he was in real world time the First Published Mutant. Later stories of characters like Apocalypse doesn’t change the fact that Namor is the First Mutant, and Marvel would often use it in their promotion and editorial, “Marvel’s First and Mightiest Mutant” & Namor: The First Mutant, arts by Jae Lee

And there you have it, the origin of Namor, his mutantism, and how Aquaman was created after Namor and later changed to be more like Namor, even casting an Actor of Color to portray the Aquaman who has always been white in the comics. I was never against the casting of Momoa, in fact I liked the Aquaman movie and am looking forward to the next one, but I did want to point out that Aquaman had been taking/borrowing elements of Namor’s character since the beginning.

The reason I bring this up is that many articles going around now are saying that Marvel changing Atlantis to Talocan to avoid it being too similar to Aquaman, but as you have seen it was always the opposite, Aquaman and Atlantis copied Namor. However I think it’s more that Coogler and the cast/crew of Black Panther: Wakanda Forever are bringing Namor back to his original roots, and are creating a world that makes sense for them for the movie so this choice has nothing to do with Aquaman.

Coding in Comics

Taken straight from the comics themselves, here are several examples as to why Namor is coded as a Biracial PoC character:

(As stated above; the color printing in comics in that era was not the best hence why Namor and Fen are blond, this is a remastered comic page keeping to the original colors)

Marvel Comics (1939) #1 / Sub-Mariner Comics 70th Anniversary(reprint/recolor)

Princess Fen explains why Atlanteans (then called Submariners) hate the white surface humans who hurt their home and people. Emperor Tha-Korr calls upon her to spy on the "White Monsters" thus establishing that Atlanteans do not see themselves the same as white humans. Fen is described as most closely resembling the female of the White Race, this has more to do with the fact that she looked more human than the males of her people, who looked more amphibious. (A fantasy/Scifi trope often used: Sexy Dimorphism )

"Go now to the land of the white people!" Fen says to her son, and so Namor goes, to wage war and Avenge his people.

This panel is not always shown in context, but it is also from the first issue. Namor & Dorma make trouble on the surface then Namor tells Dorma to return home as he continues his way to the city and continue his mission.

“And so Namor dives into the ocean again - on his way to further adventures in his crusade against white men!”

Marvel Mystery Comics #2 opens with Everett directly saying that Namor is in a war against the white man. Not every subtle way to once again point out that Namor doesn't consider himself a white man, his father may have been white and passed on his skin color to his son, but Namor was raised among his mother's people and his mother's side isn't white. Yes, they are a fantasy race but they are certainly coded as a non-white people.

Marvel Mystery Comics #3 - Namor rages about the harm Betty Dean's people, "white devils", have done to his people.

“Hate you? Yes. I hate you - and with good reason! You White Devils have persecuted and tormented my people for years - just as you are killing each other off now, in this war!”

Namor speaks of his Tribe - Marvel Mystery Comics #4. By the way at this point in the comics, Namor and his people live in the south pole/waters. Namor also had an ice palace, or ice house. I won't say Namor is Inuit but I do believe inspiration was used for the submariners.

In golden age war era comics, which I know has lots of slurs and caricatures, but in this issue Namor is not a caricature but instead is mistaken for a Japanese soldier Sub-Mariner Comics #5

Namor being called ‘squinty’ by Hank Pym in reference to his eyes in Avengers (1963) #71. This term is derogatory towards Asian people who have monolids and is a known insult.

Namor is also described with "slanted eyes" - The Defenders (1972) #1

Nita (Namor's cousin) speaks about how similar Atlantean culture is to Asian culture. New Warriors (1990) #2 

Also, not all Atlanteans are white, they are shown in a range of different surface human looks when they come on land/take serum or potions to breath on land. So there is no excuse for this whole "Atlanteans are white" nonsense. Wolverine (2003) #44 

Namor is said to look Japanese in The Marvels Project (2009) #3

A twitter thread I found interesting and wanted to share talks of the the subject of Namor's backstory/being biracial/othering in fantasy media as discussed by Naomi Clark (source)

We have now established without a doubt that Namor’s original origins and moments over the comics through the years showcase that Namor is Not White, he was always written as as an ambiguously biracial native character. The Atlanteans are a fantasy race. Atlanteans are not a real, they cannot be White because they are not real, and as I’ve shown you they were never even White to begin with. The outcry by a number of “fans” that occurred when the casting for Namor was announced was made by people who do not understand the source material, their whining of “black or brown washing” is a tactic that often happens and all they want is to silence fans and fans of color, relying only on the surface looks of Namor’s white passing skin to hate on the new direction of the Atlanteans in the upcoming Black Panther: Wakanda Forever, so I implore fans to simply ignore those “fans” and remember that representation is important in comics and movies.

Live Action Namor as played by Tenoch Huerta

Was the coding in the comics something that we could call good representation of a Biracial Character by today’s standards? No, not really, but the fact that it IS THERE, and it’s been there since the beginning is worth attention.

What’s more there have been people who have seen Namor in various incarnations, in comics, in cartoons and were immediately drawn to his “Otherness” which is why it being represented in the upcoming Black Panther: Wakanda Forever makes it more important than ever before. Simply put, a white actor would have never been able to grasp the essence of Namor.

Kurly Tlapoyawa:

“It was on Spider-Man and His Amazing Friends,” Tlapoyawa tells Inverse, recalling the 1981 animated series. I was like, ‘That guy looks different,’” Tlapoyawa remembers. “He didn’t look like a white guy.” Namor’s otherness resonated through the screen to Tlapoyawa, who describes himself back then as “a young, angry Chicano” trying to figure out his place in the world. “If you look at the older comic books, it always talked about Namor and his war against the white man. That appealed to me as a Chicano kid — a non-white hero as one of the original Marvel heroes.”  (source)

Benedict Wong:

When I was watching all these Marvel films, I was always looking and feeling crestfallen. Where were all the Asian superheroes? I was pretending in my mind that the Sub-Mariner was actually East Asian, because he looked East Asian. Somehow I was trying to look for a hero.  (source)

Namor being played by a Native Mexican actor is more comic accurate than casting any white actor. Before the trailer for Black Panther: Wakanda Forever was released, back when the RUMOR of the Tenoch casting there was a rush of people trying to “cancel” Tenoch on Twitter and other sites, many insults, and bad faith arguments, even taking his words written in Spanish out of context to translate and try to paint him as a bad person. Once again racism in Fandom was trying to wage a war on Representation but luckily the majority of people have embraced Tenoch as Namor.

Namor will be played here by Mexican actor Tenoch Huerta, previously seen in The Forever Purge and Tigers Are Not Afraid – with this incarnation of the character inspired by the culture and history of Mesoamerica. “You can take Atlantis from Greek myth, or you can adapt from a real culture,” argues Huerta. Rather than the ruler of Atlantis, on the screen he’s the ruler of Talocan (source)

Black Panther: Wakanda Forever will be the first Live Action debut of Namor the Sub-Mariner but unlike his comic counterpart, MCU Namor will not be from the Fictional Atlantis, but rather from a newly created mix of Mesoamerican Cultures/Countries, like how Black Panther’s Wakanda was the Afro-Futurism representation of several different African Nations/People so will the new Talocan represent a different take, one that will have a wide reach across the world. While I am not a Mesoamerican Historian, I do encourage people to learn/read more about the history and to understand that this is a fantasy take rooted in real history. This article talks a bit about that subject and how racism is often rooted in the Eurocentric take on Atlantis.

I could not believe it when I first learned that Tenoch Huerta was to play Namor, because it felt like I was talking to the wind for years trying to get fans and people to understand that we shouldn’t have a white actor for Namor, and there have been many fans who argued with me even after I would show them the proof within the comics. So to find out that not only was I getting a Native Non-White actor but one who is outspoken about the racism and stereotyping he faces for having dark skin it felt like Coogler had picked the perfect person to bring to life my favorite character because Tenoch would be able to understand Namor’s character. Namor’s struggle against American/White Imperialism, his Anti-Capitalist stance, his Eco-Warrior efforts to save his people and oceans from the pollution and corruption of the surface world and his struggles as a character whose home is constantly being destroyed. Namor is a proud flawed character, a prince, a king, but most importantly he cares for his people. So Tenoch reaffirming that we would not be getting a villain in the movie but a more complex take on this anti-hero is wonderful. Tenoch’s many interviews talk about how inclusion and representation is important and he felt the movie brought that with Wakanda, Namor and Talocan in the movie.

I am greatly looking forward to this new era of Namor and what it brings.

[daily-trapinch]

I just rediscovered this blog, which has been completely inactive since 2017. If you're still following me, I'm so incredibly grateful that you've stuck with it through the long silence. Truthfully, I'd forgotten about my dear Sandi in the rush of life, you know how these things go. But I have so many fond memories from running this blog, at the peak of the daily pokemon hype! I truly hope all the folks from back in the day are doing well.

After losing both the email and password to for this blog, I managed to crack the code to get back in. I don't really know what I'm going to do with it now, but rest assured, I won't be deleting anything.

The last post on this blog was about getting to know me, so I figure it's about time for a life update. Pardon me for getting sentimental for a moment.

Since this blog went on hiatus, I have entered and graduated from my university with a Bachelor's in Marine Biology, with honors, and a minor in Chemistry. I traveled abroad and swam through coral reefs, rescued stranded sea life, and cleaned up beaches. Out of everything, I'm proudest of the time I spent building oyster reefs and restoring our shoreline habitats. I've met so many amazing people, and we've made a real difference in this world. Through working with oysters, I discovered a deep love of the little things, the tiny humble creatures living in crevices, within mud, and on rocks of the seafloor. There are miniature worlds of infinite wonder there, if you take the time to look.

I met the love of my life, nearly got engaged after five truly divine years, and was promptly dumped before I could propose. I still have the ring. At the same time, I moved across the country to an unfamiliar city, where I thought I would be with my love, but instead was completely on my own. Things have been hard. Things have been very, very hard. There are good days and bad days, but I am picking myself up, pulling myself out of the dark. I am building myself a home here, and it is so worth living in. There is so much beauty in this world. There is so much love in the hearts of the people around us.

Art has settled into a pleasant supporter in the background of my life. I don't draw nearly as much as I used to, and my sense of creativity has changed a lot over the years. But I always know that the art will be there for me whenever I decide to pick up pencil and paper again. This blog from years ago taught me the joy of silly little doodles, and I'm so so so grateful for that!

I go by Frankie, these days. They/them or xe/xem pronouns. Currently, I'm in graduate school, preparing to get my PhD in Marine Science. I study little marine worms - how they move, how they affect their environment, and how important they are to the whole ocean. Ask me about my polychaete pictures, I think they're really cute! Honestly, I wish I could go back and tell my 2017-self just how much we've accomplished. Back then, I never thought I'd make it this far. I could never have imagined the breadth of experiences life had waiting for me.

There's still so much more out there to experience. If you followed me in 2017 and you're reading this now - I hope life has treated you well. I hope you've had so many good days since the last time you saw my dear Sandi. And I hope you have so many more good days for years to come!

Some of you may notice that when I went on hiatus, I left some loose ends unresolved. Unanswered messages and asks, comic ideas, that kind of thing. I promise that I didn't do it on purpose at the time! I was a lot younger, didn't understand exactly how to handle my blog getting this big. But I hope you will respect my decision to leave these things alone and not reopen a bunch of threads from seven years ago. Thank you <3

[cleabellanov]

Jet-Skiing through Identity: A Deep Dive into Mobius M. Mobius (final part)

"Part of the journey is the end" (Tony Stark in Avengers Endgame")

l find it so beautiful that this character managed to bring the Loki fandom so far with him 🧡

He didn't even have a popular background in the comics, we only got to know him because of the show. He started as a sidekick and comedic relief, an analyst with bright ideas that no one believed was going to work and a soft spot for broken things.

Then, he became a rebel breaking out from the organization that indoctrinated his whole life and the life of others. A fighter for free will. A lost man, never wanting to look or to know, but not so lost when he has the 1 he loves next to him.

And through all of it, a kind person, with a golden heart still speaking too loudly to be ignored - no matter what. And the sun still shines over that pulse, even if the rest of the world doesn't.

Let's dive into the last part of this series.

We get to meet Mobius's original self: Don, in "Science/Fiction". His joyous nature and opening to strangers makes you want to trust him. Don is basically a Mobius that never got to experience the horrors of the TVA. That is telling us how much of his character was restrained because of them, and how much was simply erased from memory. Even if his core self stayed, it had to stay very deep within, hidden, for Mobius not to get hurt by the TVA's rules.

A similarity between Don and Mobius is the deep care Don has for his loved ones: that's the thing motivating him in spite of risks. I also love how, even confused, Don seeks good. "Are you really my friend?" shows how, even if he doesn't understand this all, he knows it can be for the better. He even likes the sound of "Mobius" :

In the sixth and final episode, "Glorious Purpose", we get to some of my favorites quotes ever. And they're spoken by Mobius (i'll get to them in a minute)

Mobius has always been a weaver of details. But I want to point out how this web intensifies its strength when it comes to Loki. No one there noticed how there's something different going on but Mobius. Because, if to be loved is to be changed, to love is to change. And they both know that.

Then comes this epic conversation between Loki, who timeslips back to his first day at the TVA only to talk with Mobius. And it is this final conversation that makes the final piece of the puzzle for Loki. That's how important it is. Warning, tears were shed.

"Mobius, I need your help" "Well, I'm listening"

Even across the vast tapestry of time, the threads uniting Mobius to Loki never break. He'd only just met this variant, yet he's ready to listen, to help him despite every reason he shouldn't. Plus, this is more proof to the golden heart he listens to, of which I talked earlier.

Mobius then talks about how they don't choose at the TVA, the Time Keepers do. See how much of a person's unique way of being and thinking is repressed here if Mobius, who already shows to be open minded, gives this as an automatic response? Obviously it's a result of the constant indoctrination system that they live in, that wipes memories when things get inconvinient.

And the way he speaks this line:

Further backs up the argument that the TVA is a dystopian-totalitarian society, where even the slightest of emotions are suppressed. And it's not Mobius's fault that he had to do the same.

"Most purpose is more burden than glory"

To the Loki Mobius thinks he's talking to, this probably wouldn't mean much. But to season 2 Loki, it is everything, a hurtful summary for what he has been enduring for centuries.

And Mobius is right: he wasn't only talking to Loki when he said that line. I wonder how many of you reading this were searching for glory, only to find the burden that you have to bear instead. Then realize that it's better to bear the burden and have the purpose, then lose the purpose altogether. This is why it's one of my favorite lines: it references all the way back to Avengers 2012, and it gets right to your heart.

But how do you live with the burden? I have some things to say about Mobius's reply to this, too:

"Scar tissue"

So, in the end, it becomes part of you.

Similar to the Kintsugi art of mending objects, not by trying to hide what was broken, but by making those fissures part of the object's history.

And scar tissue, just like Kintsugi, is always stronger than it was before the deep injury healed. What Mobius is saying is, that even after choosing to bear the burden of preserving the Sacred Timeline, after all that hurt, it also made him stronger.

"She knew the hard thing to do was the thing that had to be done"

This is the final trigger, what made Loki "tick". Because, just as Mobius learned that from his past, Loki knows it is the last option he has in his future. And that is the hard thing to do. I don't think I "can bear to narrate what happens next".

"No, there's no comfort. You just choose your burden."

Little did he know he would, in fact, find comfort in Loki, and the other way around. But the burden had to be chosen in order for the purpose to be completed.

And we get to the end. There is no need for imagery for any of us since I know the final shots of the Loki series have been haunting us since November.

But there he is, free to do whatever he wants. He could take Sylvie's example and live his life, wander off from timeline to timeline now that all of them are safe. But he doesn't.

He just lets time pass.

Because, after all the development he went through, all the insight and glory he gained, he can't move on without Loki by his side. He probably didn't even realize how much he loves them before remaining all alone.

So he does the one thing he can, and knows best: he lets time pass. As if, when enough of it had gone by, he could start passing with time too. But not yet.

Part of the journey is the end. But isn't every end a new beginning?

[thedarklinkfell]

I think one of the things that's really interesting about Saltburn is how humanistic it is. The Catton family all do something selfish or stupid, and they all have this very obvious disconnect from (and limited understanding of) the real world.

But they're equally very human within that - they have this gorgeous house but it's got very normal things in it, too. And that's very deliberate on Emerald Fennel's part (see the opening scene breakdown [here]) because there's like - I guess there's this focus on the fact that there is normalcy alongside beauty. And not just that but this lavish beautiful life style that they have is also normal to them. They can't really pick apart what's normal and what isn't.

And I think this interesting thread of normalcy comes into play massively at the dinner scene on the night after the party. You see very normal human emotions and reactions wrapped up in a golden veneer. They sit at the table. They cope. Badly. In various ways. But it's still wrapped up in grandeur. They have to ask permission to close the curtains. They're still sat at their comically long table, with their beautiful dining spread in their beautiful home as their entire world splits apart. Elspeth's desperate attempt to keep things normal is stilted and so very her.

The film spends a lot of time sort of portraying them as very untouchable and on this pedestal whilst simultaneously deconstructing that.

And I think this is at its most obvious in grief. There's a natural, animalistic side to the grieving process. Pouring a cup until it overflows, nausea, silence, talking to fill the space of an empty seat.

They've not necessarily been taught how to respond in a normal social setting, which sets them apart from the rest of society but that struggle is, in itself, also deeply human. Human culture is taught and learned and there's still survival instinct under that.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

The sound of the water stirs him, but it’s Doe’s presence that wakes the captain. Pushing himself up from the chaise, he takes a few slow steps towards the bathing chamber door, her voice only slightly muffled from the other side. 

“Here, at home…” 

A corner of his mouth can’t help but twitch upward at the thought of Doe considering his ship to be her home. He waits a moment longer, both to continue to wake himself up and to settle the nerves beginning to tingle in his palms. 

“Hello, my darling,” Astarion says, just loud enough for her to hear from within. His fingers rest on the handle, ready to open the door at her command.

'Hey, baby boy,' says Doe softly. 'C'mere.' She stands and steps out of the clouded water, emptying the tub and filling it afresh. 'Smoke and cherries are a little too strong for me,' she says with a lopsided smile. 'Did you rest?'

She crosses to him, kisses him softly on the mouth. 'Sorry to wake you my love. Though now that you're here…' she takes his hand, guides it into her hair. 'Would you mind terribly washing that devil out of my hair?'

She gives him a cheeky smile, bright and sweet despite her tiredness. 'Pretty please?'

The softness in her face threatens to melt him to ash right there. Astarion's hand tightens into a gentle fist, fingers threaded within the dark strands of her hair. He admires her for a moment before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Of course, my sweet."

'I am,' she says, face breaking into a full grin. Stepping out of his grasp, she settles back into the water, dunking her head and re-emerging with the near-black tendrils of it clinging to her back. 'Now I really do look like a siren.' As Astarion settles in to washing her hair, she purrs at his gentle touch, leaning into it.

'Now, don't be too mad at me,' she says quietly. 'But Gale told me what happened to him, with the marid. So… I made a decision. Faust arrived with a note from Raphael. It said, if I ever needed him, to send the bird and he would find him.' She turns to meet his eye, almost comically upside down. 'I sent him to set up a meeting. My thought process was as follows.' She has a slightly formal lilt to her voice now, as though putting forward a legal case; she's thought this through, and won't be interrupted until she's done.

'As far as he knows, we're friends. And a powerful friend is better than a powerful enemy. He's done nothing to hurt me, in fact quite the opposite. He healed me, and he took a dance and only a dance as payment. Faust was a gift, though he may feel I owe him for that, as well. I suppose you never know with devils. In any case, he is someone who understands pacts, and how they are made and broken. If we can get some information out of him it may be of use. And if I have to keep him sweet to do that, well…' she shrugs. 'I'm prepared to. I'll discuss terms before I ask for anything. If the price is too steep, then we find other avenues. But you should know… he tried to manipulate me beyond my being inebriated. He called me 'captain', deliberately put the thought in my head that Karlach and Shadowheart were my crew, because he could tell I was upset and angry. In the moment he seemed harmless enough. Of course now I can see that it's a touch less harmless. He's trying to use me. For what, I don't know yet. But,' she says seriously, 'maybe we should take advantage of his good graces. It might be mutually beneficial.'

Astarion's fingers work a bar of shampoo throughout Doe's hair, listening. Though the idea slightly unsettles him, the confidence in her words is reassuring. He lathers her hair from root to ends, then slowly begins to rinse her hair with handfuls of water.

"I've heard rumors of a Raphael who lies in wait, palm outstretched to those in need," Astarion says quietly. "I don't want you to meet with him on your own."

She laughs softly. 'I was going to ask you if you'd go with me. I don't want to be alone with him either. Contrary to what some on this ship believe, captain,' she shakes her head playfully, drenching him in water, 'I'm not some silly little songbird. I could play him. He thinks I'm naïve, vulnerable. He's dead wrong.'

Astarion smiles, his playful tone returning now that he's fully awake. "Oh I know this," he says. "Which is precisely why I've been considering your position on board. I was thinking something along the lines of a spymaster -- how does that sound?"

'What?' Doe's jaw falls open, her stomach flipping at his words. 'You're serious?' When he nods, she grabs him by the shirt collar in a surge of water, kissing him hard. Where with Gale she was soft and yielding, this kiss is slightly possessive, a little dominant; the emotions she might've conveyed are drowned out by the sudden need to leave a mark. She even growls- unlike her, despite her tempestuous nature. She finally lets him go, eyes burning with passion, gratitude, and- ambition?

'Yes.' She takes in the sight of him then; curls dripping wet, shirt gone sheer, mouth in a little 'o' of shock. She smirks, satisfied. 'Pretty boy. Lost for words for once, hmm?'

Astarion’s moment of shock quickly turns devilishly wicked. “My my,” he tuts, leaning to lean in over the edge of the bath. “If that’s the thanks I’ll get for promoting you, you may reach captain status sooner than I’d thought.” He gets close enough to share breath, his lips hovering just above hers. “Ambition looks quite extraordinary on you, my dear.” He thinks for a moment, withholding the kiss. “Just like that red gown, which I noticed had been tossed in the fire — care to enlighten me?”

Doe whines softly, trying to press closer so he'll kiss her. 'I'm not going to usurp you, Astarion, don't you worry,' she says, a little gentler now. 'I'm not sure I'm built for leadership.' She shrugs; it's a clear insecurity. Booping his nose, she gets out of the bath, wrapping a towel around her head.

'You must have noticed the smell,' she says. 'I don't want to smell like him. So apologies, my captain, for acting out of turn. But I'm sure you will find time to mourn.' She pouts. 'But I need sleep. It's been a long night, and I am but a small defenceless little songbird who requires protection.' Her eyes gleam; she's not tired, just playing. 'I've told Gale to find me here in the morning. We have a lot of things to discuss and plans to make. Unless…' She tilts her head. 'You would rather do something else now, captain? I'll defer to your command, of course.'

“I think you’d make a fine captain, Doe,” Astarion says, rising to stand and prowling towards her. “And you know as well as I, you’re far from defenseless.” He admires Doe for a moment when he reaches her, lifting his hand to brush a finger along her jaw. That wicked smirk still graces his lips. “As far as the dress goes, I don’t mind at all — it just gives me an excuse to put something new together for you.” Taking her face in his hands, he finally presses a kiss to her lips. “I wouldn’t want to keep you awake after such a long night…” he tilts his head in thought, “but I could think of a few ideas. Though, I think I’d rather be at your command tonight.”

'Oh?' Doe's eyes glitter. 'I see…' She walks back into the main cabin and sits by the fire. 'Will you braid my hair for me? And, when you're done…' she smirks. 'I have a surprise for you to find. You'll have to play a game for it, though.'

Gazing up at him as he prowls after her, she admires the feral, wolflike way in which he moves, the peek of sharp white fang as he gives her that devastating lopsided smile. Mine she thinks. And Gale's… but for now…

'I love you,' she says simply. 'And I want you to memorise me with your hands.'

A low whine escapes Astarion as he walks to Doe, kneeling behind her before the fire. He begins sectioning her damp hair. “I love you too, Doe,” he says, taut restraint filling his voice. He begins neatly weaving the strands together. “What is it exactly that I’m looking for?”

'Good boy,' she says, leaning into his touch, reaching up to cup his jaw gently in her hand. 'You'll know it when you find it. But you'll have to be very thorough. I know you can do that, Astarion. You're a clever creature.'

Satisfied with the state of her hair when he's done, she takes his hand, guiding it over her throat, down her chest where the tendrils of her tattoo curl across it. 'Like this. Gentle, and slow, and deliberate.' Her voice drops to a sultry purr. 'Don't miss any spots. When you find it, and only then, you can have a taste, hmm? And,' she says, her mouth turning up into a small, impish smile, 'you have to close your eyes. You'll feel it when you get there. You must trust me. Okay?'

At his nod, she smiles, indulgent. 'Not enough, baby boy. Use your words. Tell me you understand what I want you to do, and that you'll obey like a good little pup.'

Astarion's mouth first parts in protest, but he's quick to playing the game. "As you wish," he whispers, closing his eyes but keeping his smirk. "I shall obey your every command."

His hands begin to rove just as she'd instructed: gentle, his fingertips softly grazing along her skin as they travel along the curve of her breasts. Slow, as if he'd needed to capture every minute of sensation as his hands travel further down towards her waist. Deliberate, because he'd needed to find whatever it was she was hiding from him, carefully traversing the plane of her stomach before making it to her hips.

Astarion lets out a satisfied purr when his hands roam over her rear, settling into a kneeling position before her. Eyes still closed, he reaches up a hand.

"Care to join me down here, my love?"

Doe lets out a soft sigh, focusing entirely on the sensation of his hands, cool against her skin. At his question, she strokes his curls gently, smiling.

'You're doing so good, sweet boy,' she says, taking in the sight before her. She runs a thumb gently over his cheek, soothing and soft, and then over his mouth, her thumb pushing between his lips to slide over his tongue. 'I rather like how I have you just now. Keep going, you're so close…'

She relishes the sight; the captain of this ship on his knees, eyes closed, trusting her with his body. 'I can't wait to see when you find it. When you do, you can open your eyes, and feast. But don't get distracted now, my love.' She removes her hand from his mouth, resists the urge to guide his head where it needs to go, and waits patiently. 'I promise it's worth it.'

Astarion's bones groan at the loss, but he remains determined and straightens his shoulders. His palms slide down the backs of her thighs, carefully wandering to the backs of her knees and around her calves. Gods, this was torture -- but whatever it was that she had waiting for him was within reach. And then…

He pauses at her ankles, rocking back to sit on his heels for a moment before he decides to put his hands on the insides of Doe's legs and making their way up and up and up at a painfully slow pace. His heartbeat picks up as his hands get closer and closer to the top of her thighs. "Please, darling -- tell me I'm getting closer," he whines playfully, his intrigue with the game and his desire for her battling within him.

'You certainly are,' she says in a hoarse whisper, losing her composure a little. His touch burns through her, even tickles a little. 'Up a little more, on the left.' Her breath hitches, hands moving to his shoulders to brace herself. 'Astarion you're so close now. A little further…'

Astarion follows her instructions once more, his desperation seeping through. His chest thrums at the feeling of her hands on him, reveling in her closeness as his fingers brush against a patch of skin with a peculiar raised outline that he can't quite make out. He hesitates there for a moment, as if awaiting her command.

'Clever boy,' she gasps. 'Now you can open your eyes. And if you want to drink… I'm all yours.' The heat from the tattoo burns almost uncomfortably hot, but his cool fingers soothe as they trace it. 'What did you find?' she asks, watching his face. 'And do you like it?'

Astarion's eyes open, and he's taken aback for a moment. There, etched into her skin, is the outline of a dagger. "It's beautiful," he breathes, eyes fixated on the dark ink. "Of course I like it, I--" Astarion searches for the words. It had been one thing, to see the skin of her shoulders marred with inky swirling tentacles in homage to Gale. Though he'd been jealous at first, the understanding had come. But this -- this secret nod to him, something shared only between the captain and his love…

The words did not make their way to his tongue. Instead, Astarion moved to stand, pressing his lips against Doe's in a claiming kiss, one hand at her jaw and the other at her back. He pulls her body close and plants needy kisses along her cheek, below her ear and down her neck - right until his fangs are lined up with precision. As the hunger stirs once more, he sinks his teeth into the soft bend of her neck, and drinks.

Having fed earlier, Astarion doesn't take much, though when he pulls his head back the warmth of her blood fills and warms him. He takes a few long, deep breaths before folding Doe within his arms. They stay like that for a moment, breathing her in and trying to match the pace of his heart to her own.

"I love you," he tells her. "And the dagger -- it's beautiful. It's everything."

'I love you.' Doe whispers, laying her head against his chest. She feels a little lightheaded, having been fed from earlier as well, and sleepy. Her body sags against him, heavy and pliant. 'My beloved boy. Nothing will ever take you from me. Ever.' She closes her eyes, breathing softly in his embrace. 'I think that's enough excitement for one day. I am feeling like a fragile little songbird just now.'

She gratefully accepts when he guides her to their bed, curling into his arms and falling straight to sleep; it is dreamless, deep, and safe. When she wakes to sunlight, she opens her eyes blearily. 'Mornin'. You're beautiful.' Kissing the tip of his nose, she cat-stretches. 'I think we missed breakfast. Oops.' She attempts to move, earning a soft growl in response. 'Astarion… we have a lot of work to do today. Things to discuss. Gale will be here any minute… you horrid little beast,' she says jokingly. 'You can't keep me all to yourself. Come on.'

Though truth be told, she found his growling protests warmed her, a blush creeping into her cheeks. The day ahead was daunting; not only training of the martial and magical kind, but Faust's return was imminent; they would have to face the devil at some point. Still, she had to at least try to be a voice of reason, however weak-willed that voice was.

[brentusjoshea]

I got the complete boxset of the 1966 Batman series for Christmas, and I’ve very nearly finished watching the first season. It’s a series you don’t have to rush - it was never designed to be binged - so I’ve just been watching four episodes at a time (& since the first season is all two-parters, that works out to two stories at a time).

It’s not the first 1960s TV series I’ve watched (I’ve watched Dr Who along with bits of The Stranger and Thunderbirds), so I’m used to the look of the show. And I have references for what 1960s TV was broadly doing at the same time. But compared to the others, it leans far more heavily into its aesthetic: each episode is basically constructed of short setpieces (heists, fight scenes, chases, cliffhangers), and with rapid cuts from setpiece to setpiece it tries to propel the viewer through 25-minutes packed with excitement and comedy.

There isn’t much space within that for anything that feels more emotionally substantial (at least at this point). But there is one glaring exception. It’s in my opinion the best two-parter of the series to this point. It is the first appearance of Mr Freeze, here played by George Saunders and, for a villain who’s usually summed up as “a joke until the 90s animated show got its hands on him,” he’s genuinely tragic here? There’s a genuine emotional thread throughout the two-parter as Batman feels personally responsible for Freeze’s condition, and Freeze’s ambition isn’t world domination or anything like that but just... trying to find some semblance of justice for what’s been done to him. I wasn’t expecting to find actual pathos in this series but it’s there.

Maybe the rest of the show goes in a wildly different direction from here, but at least within its first season yeah - this feels like a TV series based on a comic book. It’s having fun being a TV series based on a comic book. And, admittedly rarely, it punches above its weight and gives its characters interiority and greater emotional depth than you’d think for a show that’s felt like a bit of a punchline for decades.

[aladdin]

WHO STOLE MY INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY? Aladdin Investigates

In 2021, I made a social media post to publicly call out one of my clients, Z2 Comics, for underpaying their creatives. I received between $45 - $75 a page for my coloring work, always below the industry minimum standard for mainstream work, while being pushed to work at rapid and unsustainable speeds. In that post, I expressed other grievances, as well, such as being told by Z2 leadership that I was simply replaceable - they told me they could hire new colorists for as low as $30 a page. 

The CEO of the company, Josh Frankel, appeared on my public call-out thread to tell me I was being "inappropriate,", and proceeded to terminate all active projects with my coloring studio, I Love Lamp, LLC. He was fully in his right to execute that decision - we had no work-for-hire contracts between us to complicate the business / legal side of things. 

Although Josh referred to himself as my “employer” on that thread, he must have either been confused. Luckily for him, because he was my client, and not an employer, it was not a federal crime for him to terminate our relationship over my open discussion of compensation with other working artists. 

Z2 found new colorists to finish up Elvis The Graphic Novel, Sublime: $5 at the Door, and Machine Gun Kelly's Hotel Diablo Graphic Novel. 

Although I met lots of great illustrators and editors during my time working with Z2, the experience was, broadly speaking, a nightmare. I was more than ready to sever ties. I retained, however, a massive financial stake in the work that I'd done - I never surrendered any of my intellectual property. 

The More You Know: In the American Legal system, a colorist is a co-author of the comic books on which they work, with the full rights that entails. 

I had no energy for a fight, so I straight up offered all of my IP to Z2, for free, under the condition that they write out an official contract. My intention was to have a complete list of work I'd done for Z2, and ensure that I'd be properly credited for my work, by the company, moving forward - a mutually beneficial arrangement, I believed. 

Josh rejected the offer, saying that a contract wouldn't be necessarily, and that the email itself "should work fine." In that same email, Josh also accepted an apology from me that I didn't make. I laughed at the clown, and wrote his name down in my burn-book ("Josh Frankel Is a Fugly Slut").

I made no further attempts to offer my IP to the Z2 circus show. Instead, when Z2 continued use my work in promotional material, I sent a cease and desist to Z2's marketing department, and offered an explanation to the various new hires that Z2 never secured the rights to my work. I was ignored, and the solicitations continued. 

The Hotel Diablo graphic novel, which was completed in my absence, was nonetheless heavily marketed using pages that my studio had colored - because, presumably, other colorists had been paid $30 a page, and their efforts reflected that. BloodyDisgusting and ComicsBeat both published uncredited previews of my work on that book, which have since been corrected to include my name. Explaining how my name had been omitted, the journalist at Bloody-Disgusting told me that he “was only able to run what I was provided with.” 

Z2 comics thought that it was in their best interests, apparently, to simply remove my credits from future publications - or, the company is just so sloppy that no one even knows who worked on what.

When the The Elvis Graphic Novel was released, the final print contained my my covers, my pin-ups, and more than a dozen pages of interior coloring, with the rest of the color art clearly modeled after my own - but my credits had been entirely stripped from the work.

Confused and angry, I checked the copyright text within the book - the Elvis Estate was claiming 100% of the IP rights in the book. Where did my intellectual property go? 

Did the Elvis Estate steal my color art? Does the Elvis Estate even know that my color art was stolen? Does the Elvis Estate they know they are trafficking in grifted IP? 

I'm sure that Elvis would be rolling in his grave to know that his brand was associated with stealing the work of other artists. 

Anyway, I checked online, and there exists no record (that I can find) that credits me for my coloring work on that Elvis, other than my own various social media posts. When I nominated myself for awards in 2021, I had included that Title -  how embarrassing to discover that there was no public record of my involvement.  

Newly incensed, I contacted an Arts / Entertainment lawyer for the first time. I never intended to file lawsuits - I just wanted to be treated fairly, and recover my intellectual property. The lawyer explained the dynamics of IP and copyright in 2022, and sent me on a quest to the US Copyright Offices to look up all the copyrights to the books I've worked on. 

Wouldn't you know it, almost every Graphic Novel I ever worked on with Z2 had been registered, with the entirety of the Intellectual Property being copyrighted by Z2's various clients. These copyrights were not filed independently by the artists - all the copyrights were registered by the same Lawyer in Alexandria, VA. I sent the lawyer an email asking, in effect, "Hey WTF?"

I have received no reply, and have since reported their office to the Virginia State Bar. 

Early in my tenure contracting for Z2, in 2020, Z2 co-founder Josh Frankel explained to me, at his birthday party, that he was withholding my creator credits in the press so that I wouldn't get poached out from under him. It was his clever solution for retaining my services. At the time, I didn’t have other offers for work, and I was encouraged by other creators to push through my frustrations, and earn my place at the table. I kept working for Z2, despite feeling devalued (because I was literally being devalued). 

Upon further reflection, there is reason to suspect that Josh's idea to withhold my credits may have had even broader implications than what he revealed to me. The concerted effort to minimize my association with Z2 comics happened to dovetail quite nicely with a possible corporate embezzlement scheme - Z2 had legal access to, but not legal ownership over, my Intellectual Property. Somehow, all of Z2′s clientele seems to be under the impression that they own 100% of the IP contained within their various projects.  I haven’t fenced a lot of stolen goods, but I imagine, as an arm-chair gangster, that it’s lot easier to sell stolen material if the buyers don't know that it was stolen. Did the clients even bother to check if the colorist had signed away his rights? 

From my studio in Baltimore, I can't do much other than speculate. Some questions remain, for me:

What happened, behind the scenes, that caused Z2's clients to believe that they owned all of my IP? 

Is there a relationship between this years-long IP 'displacement,’ and the fact that Josh Frankel left the company this Fall? 

If Z2 did, in fact, intentionally embezzle hundreds of pages of my coloring art over the course of 3 years, would that constitute a valid RICO case to be mounted against the company? 

Did God himself orchestrate these events to amuse himself over the irony of a bunch of 'anti-establishment' Artists and musicians using the power of the State to facilitate the theft of art from smaller creators? 

When I colored 2 pages of the Magic comic for Boom!, I was credited in their press release, and was tagged in tweets for months as the book was reviewed, and later collected into trade paperback editions. 

Z2, meanwhile, has sent dozens of my pages out for previews, while withholding my name from the credits. Some popular outlets that currently feature my uncredited work online include Paste Magazine, ScreenRant, the Hollywood Reporter, the Comics Journal, and BleedingCool. 

Was there a legitimate corporate conspiracy against me, with agents in place across all spectrums of Pop Culture? Is the US State going to stand in my way as I march through Hell to take revenge on God for his failure to protect me and my family? Must I surrender my own humanity in order to summon the cyberpunk that lurks within? What will I become? 

Sorry, my degree is in “Dramatic Writing,” not “Intellectual Property Law.”

Anyway, here's a non-exhaustive list of of Copyright Claimants that have filed, with the US Copyright Office, for full legal ownership over my Intellectual Property on their various publishing projects. For the lulz, I have added three asterisks to each book that utilizes “Anti-Authoritarianism” as a major literary theme. 

Grateful Dead Productions  Grateful Dead - Origins ***

Dominic Harrison ("Yungblud") Yungblud Presents: The Twisted Tales of the Ritalin Club *** Yungblud Presents: Weird Times at Quarry Bank ***

Moriah Rose Pereira ("Poppy") Poppy 1: Genesis *** Poppy's Inferno ***

Universal Music Group The Final Symphony: A Beethoven Anthology.

Skillet Eden II: The Aftermath ***

Dance Gavin Dance  Tale of the Robot ***

Rico Nasty, Inc.  Nightmare Vaycay *** Note: all images in this post were colored by Aladdin Collar for I Love Lamp, LLC, whose services were solicited by Z2 Comics. The Elvis Estate actually made minor adjustments to the Elvis cover, to their credit, they were very helpful in making their final touches, instead sending a thousand emails about inane bullshit. The paper texture on A Robot’s Tale was taken from an old book on archive.org, I don’t remember which one. The b/g textures of the Yungblud Presents cover below were originally from scans of a silk tie-dye scarf I originally made with my Mom for the Grateful Dead book and reused in at least 4 different projects. 

[lonelywretchjervistetch]

My DCCU Interlude: The Legion of Super-Heroes (Part 2)

Chapter Two: Foundations

OK, so now that I've laid out some of the threads to be explored in this prospective series, who are our main players? Obviously, the Legion is a massive organization in the comics, whose roster has fluctuated wildly over the years. And would I love to include some crazy-ass characters in my Legion show? Oh, abso-goddamn-lutely. Gimme Tellus, Gates, Blok, Comet Queen, et cetera, PLEASE. But again, I'm talking about the first prospective season of this show, which should entice the audience to watch, and the studios to renew for future seasons. So, OK, nothing crazy.

The main characters really should be some iconic members of the Legion, upon whom we build the rest of the cast. And sure, a lot of properties, including the animated series, have included the group I'm going to propose here. But the difference here should be in characterization. This is going to be a lived-in galaxy, and we'll see quite a few unique characters and cultures, despite the familiar names. Honestly, Young Justice did this really well, even though we barely saw the Legion outside of a few members.

By the way, as I talk about these characters, I'm mostly going to focus on my ideal versions of them, rather then break down their comic book appearances and iterations. And that's because, frankly, there are...a lot of them. I'll be taking all of these incarnations into account with my versions of the characters, but I'll also be thinking about what character traits would work well in a series, and what I think each of these characters represent. There are a lot of accounts of these characters, and I encourage you to look into them if you're curious...but there's a lot of history for these guys, as well as at least 5 versions of the characters in some cases. It gets...complicated.

In this essay, we'll look at the core members, with the newbies for the season getting their own essay. We're looking at a seven-person roster, after all, with some initially getting more attention than others. And again, these should be familiar, especially to those Legion fans out there who may be reading this essay, or pretend-watching this pretend show. So, let's get started with the basics.

Oh, and, uh, strap in. This is a long one.

Cosmic Boy: Hero of Braal

Rokk Krinn , of all the original members of the Legion, is probably the most stereotypically lawful good. Serious about being a hero, as well as interested in the moral good, he's definitely the goodest of boys...ideally. And that kind of character is...never really the most popular. So, every version of Rokk Krinn has had flaws and conflict to grapple with, from outside or within. For the most part, Cosmic Boy has been shown to be a bit too controlling, or a bit too self-serious. And while that's usually seen to be a consequence of balancing responsibilities, I have a different take.

The way I see him, Rokk is a hero worshipper. And I'm referring specifically to the heroes of the 21st century, especially Superman. While Superman shouldn't be the only hero known to the future, Rokk should revere him greatly. I actually think it's Rokk's idea to form the Legion of Superheroes in Superman's image, based on his love for him, as well as what he represents to Earth and the galaxy at large. So, my Rokk will be trying to live up to the legacy of Superman, as well as the expectations he puts on himself, and placed upon him by others. Which means...yeah, he's gonna be a little stressed out.

But that's not to say that he has no fun. Let's talk about my version of Braal for a second. Braal is Rokk's home planet, and there hasn't been a whole lot about it presented in the comics. So, for this theoretical TV series, that makes it essentially a blank slate for my to carve into. There are two things I'm keeping about Braal from the comics. One, its inhabitants, or at least a decent group of its inhabitants, have the ability to manipulate magnetic fields. And two, they're big sports fans. And combining both of these gives us an interesting foundation, in my opinion.

My version of Braal in a world in economic crisis, and in desperate need of better representation on the global stage. See, Braal will be one of the first worlds of the United Planets, referred to as the "First Ring" by some. While not the most disparaged world in the system by any means, there's a serious class dispute on this world, with the bridge between the classes being based in entertainment and amenities. Essentially, it's a throwback to ancient Rome at its most corrupt, but in a somewhat more futuristic setting. I guess, technically, I'm making...oh, shit.

Gah, shit, I'm making The Hunger Games, aren't I? Well, you know what? Fuck it. Sure. Braal is essentially Panem from the Hunger Games, at least in terms of class division. The higher classes coordinate with the United Planets on behalf of the lower classes, but mostly end up serving themselves. Entertainment, especially in the form of sports, is a way for the lower classes to ascend, and an appeasement measure in turn.

Those not in sports can seek opportunity through the thriving export business of Braal, which specializes in refining metals and manufacturing metal goods. This goes back to the history of the planet, which was settled in the year 2271 by human astropioneers and prospectors, looking for a planet rich with resources to settle. They happened upon the metal-rich Braal, which they founded as a mining planet. To easily harvest this material with limited manpower, the pioneers utilized a unique innovation of their time-period: Infinity Serum. Derived from a number of developments made centuries prior by many individuals, these serums originally utilized the genetic material of metahumans, isolating their abilities to bestow these abilities on non-powered individuals. And, yes, I am absolutely referring to something in my Superman proposed film series (check out this essay for more info). Young Justice fans also know that I'm talking about here.

So, that said, these astropioneers had a number of old serums that they brought with them in order to quickly adapt to the conditions of the planet they settled. In this case, because of the need to quickly mine and refine metals, the settlers used IS: Magenta, an Infinity Serum originally derived from genetic material collected from metahumans Frances Kane, Neal Emerson, William Everett, Jacob Baker, and Rhea Jones. Once readings of the planet were taken on approach, the pioneers began a regimen of this serum, eventually developing the magnetic powers that would allow them to harvest metal and move quickly (via flight) over the planet's surface.

Because of the nature of this planet, the architecture is essentially entirely metallic. A civilization of chrome and metal, they use magnetic technology for transportation, as well as the ability to manipulate magnetism for flight for much of the population. Not all Braalians have the same amount of magnetic ability, which is due to individual genetics and family lines, as well as emigration onto the planet early in its history. However, those who wish to gain those abilities may be granted permission to obtain new serums, which are restricted by government control.

There's a lot more to think about when discussing a civilization essentially built around metal and magnetism, but I like to imagine Braal as a sort of neo-Rome, with the masses gathering around big arena sports. One of the most prominent is the sport of magno, a ball-sport with similarities to the Mesoamerican ball game and gladiator sports, in which the athletes harnessed their magnetic abilities, while the arena added more entertainment by bringing in new and unknown environments and threats during the games. And Rokk was one of the finest athletes in Braal.

A native of its capital city, Venado, he was a young magno prodigy, starting from an early age, and ascending from relative poverty. His prominent role in his family and as a people's hero of sorts is imposed on him at an early age. Which, y'know, is obviously problematic for a teenager with a still developing brain. At the age of 16, he was chosen as one of a group of young ambassadors to represent Braal to the United Planets on somewhat of a diplomatic mission. Thus, Rokk's sense of responsibility and duty towards his home begins early, as he's sent to NuMetropolis, the seat of the UP, as an advocate for his economically struggling homeworld, and for the lower end of the vast class divide that plagues it.

And there's the set up for our first member, and first leader At least, he's the first leader at the beginning of the season. See, Rokk's first season story will, unsurprisingly, revolve around his dealings with the weight of his responsibility, which will seem fairly easy on first blush, but takes quite the toll on him over time. And his successes and failings (of which there will be plenty) will add up by the end of the season. And who knows? By the end, Rokk may not be the leader any more. And who would be the leader? Well...I know somebody who would initially want the role, at the very least.

Lightning Lad: Rebel of Winath

Before I jump into this guy, I wanna preface this section by saying this: my Lightning Lad is not necessarily White or Black. Why is that important to stay up front? Well, firstly, I used the original Garth (whom I very much enjoy) in the cover image for the section. That's because I'm using all of the Final Crisis covers for these three, since I like them, and they shoe multiple designs of the characters in each image. Good artwork courtesy of the late, great George Perez.

And secondly, I want to make something absolutely goddamn clear: Bendis' version of Lightning Lad is genuinely offensive to me as a Black person. Why? Oh, I dunno, maybe it was the idea that making Garth dark-skinned was an after-thought, rather than the original concept for that version of the character, as evidence by the original artwork of the new Rebirth Legion, which was quickly recalled by editorial for the sake of pandering. And that's made even WORSE when you see what Bendis DID with the subsequent choice to make Garth dark-skinned. Not a Black American, but dark-skinned. AND THAT IS AN IMPORTANT GODDAMN DISTINCTION. Why?

...Bendis, what the fuck?

Really? You're asked to make a character dark-skinned instead of his normal light-skinned origin, and you decide the right origin for that character is to show them fighting the cops, because they come from a poor, low class ghetto world, and then showing that they come from a too-big family struggling to live within limited means? YOU GAVE LIGHTNING LAD THE MOST STEREOTYPICALLY BLACK ORIGIN, DESPITE HAVING NOTHING TO DO WITH EARTH

That is...enormously offensive in every possible way to me. DC Comics editorial pandered to modern movements and made him Black, when that wasn't originally the plan, and Bendis responded by making THE WORST POSSIBLE ORIGIN FOR A DARK-SKINNED CHARACTER POSSIBLE. Look, I'm not saying that Garth needs to be a white ginger kid, a black kid, or any particular race in general. Same with Rokk and Imra, by the way. They come from different planets, and even if they're descended from humans, why the hell do they need to adhere to any particular race or skin color? Race-blind casting if this is a live-action show, that's what I say.

And you maybe thinking, "Calm down, Lonely, it was probably a response to BLM protests happening at the time." NOPE! This was a full FOUR MONTHS PRIOR. Goddamn it, this shit gets me so fucking angry. That said, though, there's one more argument both for and against Garth being dark-skinned, and that's having to do with his powers. Because, uh...in case you don't know...

...the number of Black characters with electricity powers is, frankly, ridiculous. And sure, you could say that Lightning Lad being black is a fun little nod to that weird comic-book trend. But, uh...honestly, it's getting to be a stereotype at this point, and I'm don't know if I'm about that. So, is my Garth Black? I, uh...I don't know. I like it for the sake of diversity, obviously, but I'm also not a huge fan of contributing another Black electricity user to the public zeitgeist, especially because I'd also be including his sister and brother in that number, making the problem even more prominent. I dunno, come up with your own opinion here, but...for now, let's take race out of the equation.

'Cause, uh, here's the fun thing about writing a character or origin for a character: race doesn't have to matter. Not saying it never should, because it obviously should in some instances, but, like...you can write a character however you want to despite race if you want. You, uh...you got that comic book writers? 'Cause you don't seem to. Looking at you, origin of Ironheart that includes her Dad being killed in a drive-by shooting, for Chrissakes. Who wrote that anyw...GOD FUCKING DAMMIT BENDIS WHAT THE HELL

...

Winath. An agricultural planet, Winath is a pretty normal place. Which is pretty astonishing, considering its surroundings aren't quite as hospitable. A Goldilocks planet with a mostly temperate climate, this was settled with the intention to act as a breadbasket for the galaxy. It was, however, a fairly large planet, and early 24th Century colonists had an innovative way of settling it quickly. Like the colonists of Braal, they used one of the Infinity Serums to inoculate themselves and provide useful powers. In this case, they used IS-Black, which used the genetic material of ancient metahumans such as Danton Black, Jaina Hudson, Frederick von Frankenstein, and Simon Ecks to bestow the power of self-replication upon the user.

This worked well at first, until three generations in, when scientists realized two problems. One, this would inevitably lead to excess inbreeding, and two, population growth at that kind of exponential rate would exhaust the resaources of this planet, similar to what had occurred on Earth. So, two solutions were developed. First, genetic limiters were placed on the populus to block their abilities. This didn't fully work on everyone, instead putting limits on how many duplicates an individual could produce in some cases. Therefore, the second measure was put into place, and the colonists who retained this ability traveled to a nearby world within the system: Cargg. More on that one later, of course.

So, who was left on Winath? Powerless colonists who farmed the lands and expanded normally, never gaining too far beyond their means, and working together in cohesive agrarian communities to supply food to their corner of the galaxy and themselves. But an unseen quirk had emerged as a result of the genetic tampering. While an individual could no longer create a duplicate of themselves, the next generation of Winathians showed a massive proportion of twins born. This side-effect would continue, and most births of Winathians would be twins. This eventually resulted in superstition surrounding individual births, and those single siblings would become somewhat ostracized by society.

However, another interesting quirk would eventually be discovered. It turns out that the serum limiters suppressed the ability for Winathians to divide. But what wasn't known by anyone, due to spotty record-keeping in the 21st century, was that one of the sources of metahuman DNA, Simon Ecks, was also an electrokinetic. Which meant that, given the right stimulus, Winathians could potentially develop a secondary ability to control, store, and release energy in the form of electricity. However, on a peaceful agrarian planet like Winath, what could cause that amount of electricity, other than some kind of freak accident?

Enter the Ranzz children, Garth, Ayla, and Mekt.

Born in the 31st Century, the Ranzz siblings came from a normal family. Mekt was a single birth, the result of a troubled pregnancy (which is actually rare on Winath), and was born with white hair (another feature inherited from Simon Ecks). As such, he was ostracized as a child, and grew up quite troubled. However, always rushing to his defense were younger twin siblings Garth and Ayla, who really did love their brother, and were loved by him. An important note there to revisit later. Also, Garth and Ayla being fraternal twins rather than identical ones was also a point of contention for many people.

In any case, the Ranzz kids grew up fairly happy and content, with the exception of Mekt to a degree. His troubled life eventually caused him to fall in with a less-than-savory group of single kids in his generation, worsening his reputation. When he was 16, and Garth and Ayla were 12, Mekt was accepting controversial smuggling jobs as a part of his gang, hired by off-worlders such as the interplanetary gang leader Tharok. On one of these jobs to a nearby dangerous moon, Garth and Ayla hid as stowaways on Mekt's ship. But unbeknownst to all of them, this was a trap, and what Mekt was smuggling was a powerful EMP bomb meant to knock out Winath's power supply, crippling a corner of the galaxy as part of a terrorist plot by the Dark Circle. Yup, I'm getting rid of the Lightning Beasts. 'Cause that's silly (even though the animated series did a GREAT job with it, admittedly).

Needless to say, though...things didn't go as planned. Mekt was meant to take the fall, but with Ayla and Garth revealing themselves in the midst of the affair, Mekt was delayed just long enough for the blast to detonate in an isolated field, away from the intended target. Once detonated, an electric field powerful enough to vaporize most people went off. And yet...the Ranzz siblings survived, changed permanently as a result.

Garth and Ayla took a bit to recover from this, but eventually awoke with electrokinetic abilities, which were awakened by the inherited instability of the Ecks serum. Dubbed miracles by most, the two were arguably made better by the experience. Mekt, on the other hand, realized that this would be an even more isolating experience. And, feeling guilt for having changed his siblings' lives forever, he sought revenge against the person who sought to frame him: Tharok. After that, Mekt disappears for a while, not truly saying goodbye to his siblings and disappearing for several years. But just before he leaves, he goes after Tharok. And let's just say that only half of that guy is gonna survive the encounter.

As time passes, though, Garth becomes less than satisfied with his life on Winath. While Ayla adapts to her powers and this new existence (and maybe learns how to use them slightly differently than her brother does), Garth wants to use his powers to help people, like he had failed to do for his brother (in his eyes). Despite the protests of his family, Garth sees an opportunity to leave and explore the galaxy in the form of the United Planets summit on Earth, and sneaks away in the dead of night to do so, and to fulfill his destiny, while also trying to find his lost brother. And this, of course, will lead Garth to found the Legion of Superheroes.

Garth's story is that of the accidental hero with a chip on his shoulder. His perceived failings leaves him eager to prove himself any way he can, and that leads to rash decisions and actions that his friends have to deal with. It'll also eventually lead to the loss of his arm, but that's another story for another season, of course. His role in this Legion isn't exactly the hothead he is in some incarnations, but the one of the passionate hero who tends not to look before he leaps. So basically, he'll have a lot of consequences to deal with throughout this series, almost all of his own making. And then...there was one.

Saturn Girl: Child of Titan

We're finally at the girl character! Look, more often than not, as I'm sure you know, reader, the token female character is portrayed as the heart of the team, or the sensitive one, or some other stereotypical folderol. In this case, though, I'm leading HARD into Jean grey vibes with Imra, as a person who can read minds and understand people...but is also a bit too powerful for her own good...or for her own people. So, since this has already been WAY too long, let's jump right into my version of the moon Titan.

One of the oldest of the First Ring planets, Titan is a moon of the planet Saturn, and was the first one settled in the early 23rd century. Meant essentially as an outpost to other worlds beyond the solar system, Titan was an intriguing colony location with some problems. Mainly, the lack of breathable air there is somewhat of a problem for long stays, which were often necessary. So, they used the early and easily-developed serum IS-Clay, which used the genetic material of...hoo boy, here we go: Simon Jones, Lilith Clay, Steven Dayton, Tommy Monaghan, Hector Hammond, Manchester Black, an unknown source, and a source kept top-secret. Yeah. Lots of stuff in there. Anyway, that serum gave the recipients psychic abilities, and was later perfected and limited to just supply telepathic abilities. This was so communication could take place without the need for breathing, and instantly over large distances. After all, comms equipment may not work well in a corrosive and flammable atmosphere, so exceptions must be made.

Over time, physical changes amongst the population would occur, simply due to changes in the gene pool over time. Vocal cords, without usage, would likely atrophy somewhat. Not completely, but definitely to the extent where Titanians would speak essentially with their minds, not their voices. Because of lower temperatures, and because of Allen's rule, Titanians would be on the shorter and stouter side, being a bit stockier as a result. So, ideally, the design or actress for Imra would match those parameters.

Additionally, Titan was one of the few planets of the First Ring that had pre-existing civilizations. Long before the human settlers, Martians had settled the planet, with the Red subspecies in particular being the inhabitants of this world. But due to their war with the White Martians, their civilization on Titan was destroyed long before human settlement. The last of these was Jemm, Son of Saturn, who lived during the 21st century, and was known by settlers as a historical figure. However, after a few generations of regular mental communication, some Titanians developed a makeshift hive-mind of sorts, breaking off from the main society and forming their own eccentric collective known as the Espers. This eccentric group would worship Jemm and the ancient Saturnians as essentially gods, and they would become a sort of terrorist group on Titan, trying to change the burgeoning society into something far different from Earth's and more alien. These extremist views got worse and worse over the centuries, until considered a very dangerous cult in the 31st century as a result. And those who know...know.

But the Espers aren't Titan's only issue. As generations pass, the telepathic abilities of the population get progressively stronger and stronger. Personal boundaries begin to disappear due to greater telepathy, leading to the development of even stronger mental boundaries and walls. Most of this power development is peaceful, and Titan is a typically peaceful society. But there is a fear of the next generation being far more powerful than the last. Enter Imra Ardeen.

Born to a fairly well-off family (she's the high-class to Rokk's low and Garth's middle), Imra is one of the most powerful members of her generation. Now, obviously, this is the direction in which Mary Sue walks, but this power isn't effortless for Imra. Not only is this power genuinely difficult for her to control, but it alienates her from those around her. Because she has to keep her power hidden from those around her, she closes herself off mentally, which is a no-no to a society that's mostly open with each other. And the uncertainty surrounding her behavior leads to mistrust. Mistrust leads fear, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate, and...well, you know.

Imra is the misunderstood hero, and rather than leaving Titan voluntarily, she's effectively exiled from her home, amidst fears that she's secretly an Esper, or...well, even more dangerous than that. And to be honest, Imra is INCREDIBLY powerful, due to the inheritance of a powerful psychic gift. She's also one of the few Titanians to speak out loud, purely to avoid using her mind. And that is, of course, another Titanian taboo. So, Imra, isolated and ostracized from an entire planetary society, leaves Titan. And if she can help it, she's not going back. This is a shame and a secret for her to bear. However, she will be sought out by the Espers, who seek to add her to her number, especially their own child prodigy, one Meta Ulnoor. Again, if you know, you know.

Imra, once she gets to Earth, is a private and closed off person, but also picks up information very quickly due to her gifts. She's constantly holding herself back, and is always on guard as a result. However, her friends, especially Garth, will eventually get her to enjoy life on Earth, open up a bit, and even guide towards a way to control her powers and emotions that doesn't revolve around repression. Yeah, Imra's an interesting one in my estimation, and seeing her change and open up would be very interesting in my opinion. And given that she's one of the most popular and iconic of the original Legion, I think that's pretty fitting. Even though, ironically, her entry is the shortest one here, but come on...this essay is long enough.

Epilogue: A Balanced Trio

So, there you have it: my versions of the original three with the potential for interesting stories and interrelationships. The more responsible and dutiful Rokk reigns Garth's wilder tendencies in, while Imra grounds Rokk into a more practical reality (and away from hero-worshipping idealism), and Garth helps Imra to enjoy life and let her guard down a bit more than usual. The three balance each other out, but each have distinct personalities outside of each other's influence.

In the first season, these three obviously will be major players, and each will serve as the main anchor for a season-long story, which will tie together by the end of the season. In fact, I've already hinted at that ending story at least twice, although I've obviously left a lot out. We'll get there, though. In the meantime, we have more members of the Legion to fill out. And, in fact, they'll come together as a separate anchor for the season's storyline...but again, we'll get to that one later. In the meantime, I'm taking a break for a minute. This essay took...a while. See you soon!

See you in Part Three!

[nyandereneko]

Just Like Old Times

Word Count: 1,696

Summary: “She couldn’t be bothered to spare the scum any words, even a hint of acknowledgement. She was focused on the one that’d called out to her, the thread that’d demanded her presence to ensure its protection, its preservation.”

Author’s Note: Critical R0le got me in a chokehold and this is the result, C3 is also kicking my ass and this is a direct result. If you’re not caught up with C3 ep51 or you’re trying to avoid spoilers stay the hell away from this fic, I’m serious this is your last spoiler warning!! Everyone else, I hope you enjoy Celestial!Nova going apeshit about what happened in the campaign, I can’t say bad shit still wouldn’t end up happening to everyone anyway because they’re dealing with quite the cunning and crafty and tenacious adversaries, but Nova would at least be able to cause a stir, and a pause. And then she and Vax would probably defend Keyleth to the end lmao, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Reblogs Appreciated!

*****

The world was dyed a deep, dark, bloody red when the youthful celestial arrived. Raging winds and roiling dust and miserable wails overwhelmed her as she materialized in a flash, in the heart of a violent tempest of chaos and panic. It was an assault to her senses on every front; she’d had no idea what to expect. She hadn’t been allotted much time to even consider her feelings on the subject, but that was just the nature, the reality of the consequences of yielding to the impulse of a split second reaction.

And react she had, zipping across several planes of existence in a blink and reaching her destination just in time to prevent the tragedy that had summoned her. Said summons was entirely foreign, unknown to her, which only made things more jarring as the details of the situation began to trickle in. She’d been transported so abruptly that she hadn’t even had time to alter her form, instead appearing as a Nova-shaped mass of fluid, shifting starlight—the form of a pure celestial fae.

It was one of many forms the distinguished woman had at her disposal. Her eyes were the only easily distinguishable feature on her face, though the rest could be defined upon closer inspection. Two radiant orbs of iridescent light glowing with the intensity of the full moon sat nested within her nebulous vestige, blinking a few times in a comical reflex of mortality as her vision adjusted to the scene.

There was a beam so bright it hurt to look at searing into the center of her raised palm, focused and sharp. But also peculiar, unfamiliar…uninteresting, really.

She examined the blackhole-like vortex boring into the center of her hand as it intensified, spewing iridescent blood like a fount of fae energy not unlike the red light of Ruidus that was presently engulfing the battlefield. The injury, and the attempt to harm her in general was an inconvenience more akin to a splinter or a stubbed toe, really. It wouldn’t even leave a scratch. But she’d been summoned here for a reason, and she had yet to accomplish the all important task that’d stirred her very soul to action.

She couldn’t be bothered to spare the scum any words, even a hint of acknowledgement. She was focused on the one that’d called out to her, the thread that’d demanded her presence to ensure its protection, its preservation. And though fate may truly have had a hand in procuring her aid, her motivation and conviction ultimately resided in the unshakable love that bound her to the man that stood behind her now, frozen in disbelief and awe.

“What a fuss, and over such insignificant pests.” She flicked the beam between her middle finger and thumb, redirecting its flow precisely enough to send it back the way it came and disarm every reflective surface that’d guided it to her vengeful grasp. The mechanisms weren’t entirely destroyed, certainly recoverable, but effectively useless for the time being. “Entitled enough to dare to put the champion of a god in danger. Underestimating the wrath of the gods…it often proves to be one of man’s most dire follies, in my experience.”

Without a second glance, without another word, the instigators were violently shoved, pounded into the earth. A pressure, a gravity that they were barely able to survive descended with the speed and intensity of a falling star, incapacitating them and eliminating any potential for them to interact, to interfere. She wasn’t going to spare them any time; she wasn’t here for them. She was here for the man she surmised by now that she’d defended in some way, prevented some unfathomable horror from being unleashed upon him, at least for now.

“Keyleth?” Nova’s voice sounded like starlight. Her attention shifted again, and as she turned to face her vulnerable charge she discovered that not one but two of her companions had fallen prey to this insidious ambush, startled and clinging to life. Even more victims of this revolting display of arrogance and selfishness were scattered about the surroundings, their suffering equally pronounced.

The priestess could sense a faint, fading aura of restoration in the air, a pale imitation of the familiar warmth and comfort that coursed through her veins when she invoked the healing arts herself. “Apparently, that batch of restoration wasn’t enough. But I think I can help with that.”

A burst of celestial radiance in the form of a phantom ring of constellations pulsed forth in a wave from the center of her being, quieting the mayhem as it rolled over the battlefield and eventually faded at a distance. The magic left a lingering facade of tranquility on the area, or perhaps it was just a side effect of the healing euphoria. Either way, it wasn’t going to last, and now that Nova was here she couldn’t leave without a fight. They had to pay, and whatever this was had to stop at all costs.

She glanced at the imposing machine.

Her gaze drifted to the scorned crimson moon hanging above who’s red aura filled her with the dread of the gods.

The haunting chill of the ancient, voracious god devourer dwelling within the tenuous lunar prison pierced her to her core.

“Nova.” All the half-elf had to do was speak her name. It almost hurt to look at him, but only because he was that beautiful, or perhaps she was just that overcome.

“Starweaver.” Her title among the gods. Like her mother before her, the majestic Moonweaver, the Starweaver had claimed her mantle and proven many times over just how fit she was to bear it. She’d been lured in her celestial state to the heart of this present disaster, still too distracted to bother putting up any troublesome mortal appearances.

He took her glittering, void-like hand and kissed the same yet different fingers that danced with constellations whenever she invoked the magic of the cosmos. There was a galaxy nestled in her palm. The warmth of night’s nurturing embrace coursed through her ethereal veins, radiating from every pore of her divine being. He’d been marked by the chill kiss of death. His lips trembled as they brushed the void of her divine flesh behind his carefully cut mask, and his presence was enough to distract her from all else without even having to try.

But she didn’t want him to bow—she wanted to see him.

Sure, she saw him in her dreams all the time. Unsure of whether there was truly some deeper connection residing within them, she figured it couldn’t be anything more than her own pitiful, wishful thinking; a product of her desperate delusions. She and the Champion had stated their vows, each pledging their word that they would accept the inevitable separation and isolation required of his service in order to satisfy the terms of his sacred contract with the Matron of Ravens.

As two gods they were on equal terms, and there were no valid loopholes the Moonweaver could exploit in her star’s favor.

Vax’s fate was set, and Nova’s along with it.

But he wasn’t content to just bow to her, either. He felt compelled; he wanted to. And he also wanted to stand up straight and take a good long look into the shimmering eyes searing within her incorporeal starry form, more level with his own than he was used to as her innate gravity in this form led her to absently float and drift along. It was as if her hair and fur had bled into the rest of her being, cloaking her in the night itself, a being woven from the stars. He would have been more than content to allow those very stars to engulf him as greedily as they desired, but much to their shared dismay there was still work to be done.

“It’s been too long.” Nova reached out and caressed the half-elf’s face, noting the ornate, traditional mask that complemented his armor, an unmistakable symbol of the Matron’s power and prestige. Eyes seasoned by death stared back into her glowing starlit gaze, and she moved in just enough to brush her incorporeal lips against the smooth surface concealing his features. He likewise leaned into her touch, as chill as the domain he served as it permeated his very being, but if she really focused she could discern the familiar warmth that persisted within his guarded soul, the inextinguishable essence that dwelled within.

She knew that even the simple act of entertaining such an interaction would violate their respective agreements, much less succumbing to it, but she couldn’t find it in herself to give the slightest damn. About any of it. All that mattered was that Vax was here now, Nova was here with him, and fate had seemingly been merciful enough to allow the diligent duo this fleeting, bittersweet reunion.

“I’m never far from you, you know,” the Champion reassured in a voice that still had enough of him in it for his patient, doting love to recognize.

“That truth is part of what plagues me so,” the celestial replied in a whisper, feeling as if her glittering grasp was welded to his face as she traced the edge of his mask with her thumb. “When you’re close, it only makes me miss you more.”

“I’m here now, my love,” he replied as he brashly pulled her closer. “And it seems like we’ve got some fairly important work to do.”

“Ah, just like old times,” she chimed in as her luminescent nature flared with the ire of the cosmos. She turned to face the instigator’s that she’d temporarily incapacitated upon arrival; as soon as her magic had faded they were relentless in clamoring back to their feet and seeing whatever this grand conspiracy was through to the end.

Nova’s fists clenched as constellations began to gather and swirl around them. Just like old times indeed, she thought as she lashed her tail, a fresh power surging through her with the influence of Vax’s intoxicating presence. It was nice to revel in his company while it lasted, even if they had to do it in the midst of a man-made apocalypse.