#seems to be a reoccurring trend with my comics

[sexylinoleum]

Based off that one Ralsei valentine. He is such a weirdo.

[angabby-zzz]

Disclaimer none of these ppl have like names yet (closest one I have is how I've narrowed down 3 name options for #7) + I've kinda just been referring to them as whatever theyre inspired by which is kinda embarrassing outside of my own brain but whatever

Anyway the like basic concept behind everything is that its like. Very normal like modern worldish (nothing too specific so far since I don't wanna age it Too much) and like the whole gang r just regular kinda ppl outside of like 2 guys. Except these 2 guys we've gotta like pretend like they're not probably human experiments who showed up out of nowhere.

Anyway here r the main / reoccurring characters so far. In parentheses r what I refer to them as except abbreviated for comfort lol)

1 (yh)

He's like this 18/19 yr old who has / had like a weird kinda thing w his family and kinda gets like. Idk some kinda depression thing from it or idk. At least it worsens. Kinda like that gifted kid burn out thing. Which isn't rlly helped when his older brother (10) moved out and doesn't rlly contact him anymore and seems to be doing fine + hangs out w his Also giftedish cousin (3) way more. But it's ok his whole thing isn't being a depressed guy he's not like that all the time. He has this childhood friend (2) who sticks around w him and is like Also kinda behind on figuring out life or what to do (even more than him maybe) which is fine

2 (mg)

Also a 18/19 yr old and this ^ guys silly loser friend who is like glued to his side. He's not rlly comic relief type loser it's more like. He's this tall kinda buff dude who is actually kinda soft n shy and has like no friends. Idr have much down on this guy other than that and how we wears glasses lol sorry

3 (jh)

If you've noticed a trend in nicknaming conventions good job this will continue. I'm telling you that adventure time au rlly inspired me no joke

Anyway this guy is like. Idk 16/17 yrs old and despite his awkward family life and deafness he's doing fine. He has a few friends (4 + 5 + 9 + maybe some less occurring girls I have ideas for) and has a lot going on between like advanced classes in school and clubs and volunteer work and doing stuff around neighbors houses for money. Tbh I haven't decided where he lives yet but lets just say it isn't w his parents or aunt/uncle anymore. But he prefers staying over at his cousins (10) house + feels more comfortable asking him for help on stuff. Which is also where he starts to befriend 9 which is cool 👍

He does a lot of stuff but he's like super introverted n quiet n stuff he just likes working and helping ppl lol. Tbh king of idgaf he's pretty chill and doesn't rlly judge ppl out loud or anything. He likes playing sports but doesn't rlly care for the actual competitive/serious stuff so he hasn't ever signed up for any of it. He has a dog maybe

4 (woo)

So this guy is like lowkey a loser. He's like 16 and only has like 2 friends (3 + 5) until this like tall vampire looking dude (8) shows up to his house one night and they end up secretly living together eventually after 4 stops being so judgy about him. Which is kinda his thing like he doesn't rlly follow other ppl or anything and is kinda mean but not in like a mega bully way. More like he's just misinformed or smth idk. But it's ok cuz 3 is too chill to argue w him so they kinda mesh together well.

I think maybe he'll have some kind of johnny/dallas thing with 8 at some point. Hashtag redemption or whatever (I promise he isn't super evil or anything this summary is kind of badly editting him lol + I don't rlly have anything done for him despite him living w one of the experiment guys)

5 (jeo)

I switched up the names on u with these next few hahaha

Anyway this guy I probably have the least amount of stuff done for. He isn't rlly that important so far but he's friends with 3 + 4. He's like cool looking but (not rlly) secretly a silly guy and rlly into like vlogging n stuff. Which makes him more close to 3 cuz he actually supports his passions 🥳. Idk that's all I've got. He has like no connection to 8 + 9 for the most part. He's also 16/17 yrs old I forgot to add this oops

6 (silly girl)

This name isn't the best srry but that's rlly all she is. She's like tall and 17/18 and pretty and comes from a rich family. So awesome. Except she's like a weird girl kind of. Like fun and silly (hence the name) and everything. Idrk what she gets up to but trust.

She has this girl (7) she's close friends with who doesn't rlly care abt that^ (sometimes even engages in her weird stuff with enthusiasm) + she's dating 9. Which is great it's like kind of giving "me and the girl I bagged by being autistic" except the roles could go either way. They match each others freak idk. Neither of them can drive or has a job and they love animals

7 (sgf)

This nickname is like 10x less creative when u know what it stands for but trust I have like 3 names lined up for her it's fine

Anyway yeah she's 6's friend and that's all rlly 😭 17/18 yrs old. The shortest one in this list (5'2). She's kinda a loner girl for the most part. She has no job (I'm not sure abt driving ability) but her free time is like. +40% helping her siblings/family w stuff (sports practice / moving stuff / volunteering) so its fine.

In case u were wondering the names are carmen lopez, ximena delgado(/rodriguez), and helena guzman

8 (hwa)

Yeah tbh the inspiration is really blatant with this one. He's this tall pretty guy who shows up in 4's room one night and yk. This guys whole thing kinda is like self expression n artsy stuff ig. Like as he n 4's friendship grows they're both more like. Into the beauty of the world and friends and love. How awesome. Idrk anything else for him rn. Idek his age I'll just say like 16-19

9 (ys)

Tbh I'm drawing a bit of soul piwon inspiration into this guy too. Which like ig tells u how he is if u know lolll.

Anyway yeah he's like 17-19 yrs old and pretty quiet but like. Silly. Yk like soul. He's like kinda into nature stuff and like art maybe?? Idk. He lives with 10 + 11 cuz he also just showed up there one day and they were like??? What do we do. But idk. Tbh I'm not even sure what he does I fear he's kinda just roaming around the streets while everyone else is at work / school. An adventurer guy. Unless they somehow figure out how to put him into school or something.

I realized I kinda stopped restating information from previous characters so yeah 👍👍👍 idk not much other than that. His and 8's powers aren't rlly thought abt so far but I think maybe he will have some kind of transformation or elemental thing going on

10 (sc)

One of the only adult characters lolll. Not by much though he's only like in his early/mid 20s. He's like pretty awkward w his parents now so he doesn't rlly make an effort to communicate w them much outside of like. Holidays or smth. And he finds it kind of awkward to talk to / hang out w his younger brother too cuz of that + he thinks maybe he doesn't like him anymore or smth but whatever idk. Has a soft spot for his cousin since he's literally just a kid and had stuff happen to him even if he doesn't seem to care abt it 😭

I'm not rlly sure if he met his roommate (11) just like randomly or if they're living together cuz they're friends but either way they're pretty cool. Kinda like cool uncle vibes ig. Also they have a dog 👍👍😚😚 and he's rlly girl dad about it. That's all for now

11 (jhn)

This is the last like official (reoccurring) guy I have and he's like also in 10's age range. Tbh he doesn't rlly do much as of now he's kind of like 7 or 5 in that way (connected to the random 2 guys only cuz they have a friend thats connected to them) but more personal since. He literally lives w one of them. But he's not super into the parenting role lol so its wtv. Like he has his own stuff going on. (he's not like mean or anything to 9 cuz of this btw I'm just careful not to make him and 10 super parenting focused just cuz they're the oldest ones lol 😭 that and he's a little feminine looking so yk lol. Is the idol duo behind this obvious too)

+ a height chart if u were curious

Anyway that's all I'm gonna do like a separate post for actual story parts later maybe. Idk

I never gave y'all any updates on my new oc stuff so should I post abt them. I only have like their personalities/concepts n relationships down rn not rlly any good clear event stuff that will happen. I need a new tag for this since I wanna keep oc lore just for jag lol

[ober-affen-geil]

It’s ace week again and I want to start by saying I appreciate the constant and consistent rise of overt queer representation in media. I really, really do. This post is not about that, but I did want to start by recognizing that we are definitely seeing a positive trend of queer rep and I’m not begrudging anyone that.

On the other hand.

Why is it that Sex Education, a show lauded for its depictions of teenage sexualities of all kinds, only openly discusses asexuality in one Very Special Episode?

Why is it that Brooklyn Nine Nine, a show respected for its diversity, only mentioned asexuality once and it was clearly meant as an insult?

Why is it that Faking It, a show inclusive of many teen sexualities and groundbreaking in its inclusion of a main intersex character, only references asexuality in a single throwaway line meant as a “we’ve collected them all” joke?

Why is it that Heatstopper, a show that gently yet explicitly includes all sorts of different identities in its main teen characters, doesn’t have a single reference to asexuality? And if Isaac or Tori were meant to be included as ace rep, why weren't they identified as such the way the rest of the characters were?

Why is it that Jughead, a character known in the entire run of comics going back to 1941 as having two defining characteristics: a disintrest in girls/dating and an obsession with food and who was made explicitly asexual in a 2016 run, was not made asexual in Riverdale when the opportunity presented itself?

Why is it that when fandom was presented with Good Omens they chose to call it “not queer enough” when the option to see Aziraphale and Crowley as ace or aro was very obviously there?

Why is it that I’ve seen BoJack Horseman, a show that has earned every Emmy it has won, praised as groundbreaking for having main reoccurring character Todd Chavez’s asexuality be a part of several different storylines only ever from asexual sources?

I know why. Do you?

Happy Asexual Awareness Week.

Edit: I did address this in a reblog but since a lot of recent people seem to be finding this through the tags and this is happening with enough frequency I will add it here.

To all the helpful people in the notes telling me that a) Alice Oseman is aroace or b) that there are plans for explicit ace representation in season 2 of Heartstopper or c) that there are other publications within the Heartstopper universe that examines aspec characters...thank you. I know. That is actually most of the reason Heartstopper made it onto this list.

Because what that means is, a creator that *has* explicit aspec rep in other works, *has* explicit aspec rep in the main work that is the subject of the adaptation, and *is* aspec themselves made the choice to relegate explicit aspec rep to a second season that had not yet been secured at the time of writing season 1.

Setting aside that I know fuckall about what the adaptation/creative process was like or what TPTB were like during said process, from my perspective that fucking sucked. A lot.

Happy Asexual Awareness Week.

[recentanimenews]

From Bakeneko to Bakemonogatari: The Secret History of Catgirls

It’s a question society has asked for ages: what came first, the cat or the girl?

The catgirl is one of the most resilient images in anime today. However, even the term “catgirl” is a little vague. Close your eyes and try to imagine what that word actually means. Did you think of a girl, but with cat ears? Did she have a tail? Does she have a verbal tic? Was she — by some mystical, scientific, or by some other supernatural occurrence — able to transform into an actual cat? If you said yes or no to any of those questions, are we still talking about the same kind of “catgirl”?

The answer is no one really knows. But that hasn’t stopped people from trying to investigate the origins of this immensely popular character type. Does such a thing as "the first catgirl" truly even exist?

Black Hanekawa as she appears in Nekomonogatari

What We Talk About When We Talk About Catgirls

Broadly speaking, characters with animal ears are described as kemonomimi, which literally means animal ears. What about catgirl etymology? As expected, characters with cat ears are described as nekomimi, aka cat ears. The term nekomusume (cat girl or daughter, literally) has also been used, which is also notably the name of the character Neko-Musume from Shigeru Mizuki’s popular 1960s supernatural manga GeGeGe no Kitarō. Ralph F. McCarthy, the first to translate Kitarō in a bilingual edition published by Kodansha in 2002, localized this name as “Catchick.” This is all to say, the invented euphemism “catgirl” is just one of many used to describe the same thing: a cat-like girl who may or may not claw your eyes out with a mischievous smirk.

Mizuki's Neko-Musume is based on the bakeneko, an evil cat spirit who is sometimes able to change between human and feline form. Folklorist Matthew Meyer describes bakeneko as beginning their lives as regular house cats, but later accumulating more human-like traits as they mature. In many stories, they are depicted as lapping up the blood of murder victims, thereby granting them supernatural powers. Of course, they aren’t to be mistaken with nekomata — twin-tailed cat spirits, like Yōkai Watch’s Jibanyan. Much like the rest of Mizuki’s yōkai characters inspired by Japan’s supernatural folklore, Mizuki’s bakeneko are the byproduct of creative license. Neko-Musume doesn’t have cat ears like we might expect them today, but technically she fits the bill for a supernatural entity. Like modern-day big-eyed catgirls, your mileage may vary.

Detail from Utagawa Kuniyoshi's nekozuka print

Utagawa Kuniyoshi, a woodblock artist born in 1798, is well-known for his many cat-centric prints. One of his most renowned projects was a series of prints depicting the 1827 kabuki drama, Traveling Alone to the Fifty-three Stations. In 1852, Kuniyoshi printed a depiction of actor Onoe Kikugorō III as one of the play’s most memorable characters, the nekozuka, a cat monster living in Okazaki assuming the form of a human woman. Kuniyoshi draws this specter with two very noticeable cat ears — a statement that this is a suspicious supernatural entity. This same motif reoccurs in other Kuniyoshi works, noticeably a woodblock triptych depicting the same actor as a cat creature. Again, those notorious ears appear.

Onoe Kikugorō III illustrated by artist Utagawa Kuniyoshi

Is Kuniyoshi’s flair for fantastic flourish the missing link? The secret origin of all catgirls who ever dared meow in the modern age? Well, it’s a little more complicated than that.

Will the Real Catgirls Please Stand Up?

The bakeneko is but just one entry in Japanese folklore’s long love affair with cats. In contemporary media, the concept of a cat-influenced woman is seen in many horror films. In an entry on bakeneko for The Encyclopedia of Japanese Horror Films, scholar Michael Crandol writes: "Bakeneko tales were the single most popular subject of Japanese horror films from the dawn of cinema through the 1960s, with more than sixty such pictures released by 1970.” With films as early as 1938’s The Ghost Cat and The Mysterious Shamisen, to post-war modern classics like 1968’s Kuroneko, the bakeneko sub-genre in Japanese horror is a testament to its ubiquity. Not to mention the allure of mysterious intrigue.

Kaneto Shindo's Kuroneko asks the universal question: will my cat eat me when I die?

From this perspective, the origins of catgirls seem quite hairy. In fact, looking solely through the lens of the traditional bakeneko narrative is extremely limiting. Surely they all aren’t evil women possessed by vengeful spirits? So what else?

In May 2019, independent cartoonist Keiichi Tanaka posted a thread on Twitter asking about the possible origins of the catgirl design proper:

猫耳の元祖って『綿の国星』？ 人間の��で頭の上に猫の耳、このデザインってそれ以前にあった？

— はぁとふる倍国土 (@keiichisennsei) May 16, 2019

Among the replies included Osamu Tezuka’s character Hecate, a shape-shifting young witch who transforms into a half-humanoid, half-cat creature from the 1950s manga Princess Knight. Others mention Kuniyoshi’s cat-eared nekozuka woodblock prints, alongside the introduction of the classic Playboy Bunny costume in Japan. At first, it seems like Yumiko Ōshima’s manga Star of Cottonland may be the point of origin, but perhaps it’s not so easy to pin down. Did Tezuka, like so many innovations in early anime and manga, do it first? Are catgirls perhaps an underappreciated relic of the Edō period? What about classic '80s shōjo manga?

Feline magic in Tezuka's Princess Knight

Like many great debates in art history, the conclusion is ambiguous. Some might say Kuniyoshi unintentionally invented “catgirls” in the 19th century. Others may say Tezuka refined the concept, but Ōshima popularized the idea of cat ears on cute girls. If we examine catgirls strictly through the lens of anime and manga, the ambiguity and debate regarding "origins" become less of a fuzzy headache. Rather, we can re-frame the question: What works possibly helped catgirls bloom into the anime and manga-centric phenomenon we know and love today?

Chibi Neko, a cat who believes she is a girl

Ōshima’s Star of Cottonland was serialized in shōjo magazine LaLa from 1978 to 1987. The protagonist, Chibi Neko, is a kitten who views herself as a little girl. Because of this, the story is illustrated from her perspective and depicts her as human, with the caveat of having cat ears. In her 1995 book, Phänomen Manga: Comic-Kultur in Japan, scholar Jaqueline Berndt points to Ōshima being the possible originator of this now massively popular trope. In 1984, Star of Cottonland was adapted into OVA by Mushi Production, the animation studio famously known for adapting many of Tezuka’s major works.

Meanwhile, another OVA debuted in 1984: Bagi, the Monster of Mighty Nature. This was an original production written by Tezuka himself in response to gene recombination research approval by the Japanese government. Most famously, it featured an anthropomorphic feline woman named Bagi, who is undeniably more cat than girl. Bagi attempts to gain vengeance on humanity while simultaneously forging a troubled relationship with the action-hero male protagonist. While the Star of Cottonland OVA saw a limited home release, Bagi was broadcasted via the Nippon Television Network as a TV special.

Twin cyberpunk catgirls from Masamune's Dominion

Star of Cottonland and Bagi couldn’t be more thematically different, nonetheless, they both depend on catgirls for their worldbuilding. Masamune Shirow’s 1985 science-fiction manga, Dominion, follows a similar trend with its portrayal of android catgirls in a gritty cyberpunk setting. Adapted into a 1988 OVA series, Dominion: Tank Police features two puma twins, Anna and Uni, catgirls created as sentient love dolls. With their wild hair and overtly sexualized design, they undoubtedly have more in common with Tezuka’s violent Bagi than Ōshima’s initial cat-eared girls. They are, for lack of a better word, an otaku’s modern catgirl with their feral bloodthirst intact.

A Catgirl for All Seasons

A feature from Kadokawa’s Davinci News’ anime department titled "We Investigated ‘Why Are Nekomimi Girls So Cute’” draws attention to the 2013 Fall anime season. Namely, ear and tail-equipped characters from Outbreak Company and Nekomonogatari. What’s the appeal of animal-eared girls, where did they come from, and why are they so seemingly trendy now? Again, Kuniyoshi’s fearsome kabuki portraits are mentioned, however with an important caveat: Kuniyoshi's cat ears were meant to strike fear, not inspire charm. The same could be said for the post-war boom in bakeneko films and their scream queen actresses. The article’s author even suggests that the prominence of the Playboy Bunny outfit, with its appeal to the uppercrust of society and cute tail, might’ve also added to a flourishing nekomimi cosplay craze. At some point, the strangeness of the concept became secondary to cute novelty.

Koyomi confronts the Sawari Neko possessing Hanekawa

This observation points out an important contemporary trend: ornamental catgirls, aka eyecandy, verus catgirls with a narrative purpose. Peak catgirl is somehow balancing both acts. Characters like Bakemonogatari’s Tsubasa Hanekawa — a high schooler who is possessed by the Sawari Neko spirit — unintentionally create the night-prowling, cat-eared alter-ego named “Black Hanekawa.” Black Hanekawa may perhaps be the modern mash-up of bakeneko tradition and otaku catgirl-ness we've long awaited. She speaks in cat-puns, obviously not human, and is most importantly a fearsome supernatural nuance. But on the flip-side, Black Hanekawa is everything we expect from the otaku’s catgirl: ears on top of her head, an eccentric personality, and a desire to exaggerate those feline quirks whenever possible for cuteness' sake.

ฅ(*ΦωΦ*)ฅ

  The modern catgirl’s sensibility is to be a girl first, cat second. While hints of this archetype is seen in Shirow’s 1980s catgirl love androids, early 2000s series like Di Gi Charat and Tokyo Mew Mew have only further pushed this specific everyday flavor of catgirl agenda. Especially considering the infectious prevalence of mascot characters like Dejiko, a chibified catgirl with lucky cat bells on character goods stores across Akihabara. It’s no wonder they’ve effectively lost all their unncanniness. But besides the cultural context — there’s no real reason why cat ears just can’t be cute in themselves.

Dejiko and company promoting a GAMERS character goods store in Akihabara

Nowadays, you don’t have to look very hard to find a cat-eared character. Series like Re:Zero famously feature characters like Felix, whose cat-like qualities are part of the lore. Nintendo series like Fire Emblem have even newly added a “beast” race of animal-eared characters. Not to mention the massive popularity of franchises like Strike Witches and Kemono Friends in recent years, catgirls undoubtedly draw massively passionate fanbases. No matter where they came from, catgirls in all shapes and sizes, clawed, and de-clawed, have never stopped turning heads. The nyapocalypse is here to stay, fur-real.

Do you have a favorite catgirl of all time? Let us knyaow in the comments below!

  Blake P. is a weekly columnist for Crunchyroll Features. He thinks Cats (the musical) deserves a proper anime adaptation. His twitter is @_dispossessed. His bylines include Fanbyte, VRV, Unwinnable, and more.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[riallasheng]

Hello again my tripleace gurl! Done dirty by the creators!!

I AM STILL SO CONFUSED, WHAT IS A TRIPLEACE?!

(I thank you still most kindly for the ask but please send me another explaining this word!! ^^;; )

Also, sorry for the delay of a few days in responding, I was out of town till today!!

And aaaawwwwwwaaaaaaay we go! XD

Fireball XL5: Hmmm, hard one. Obviously the way Venus was written out of the Century 21 comics is the go to, and one I'm VERY annoyed at (actually pretty much hate. I ADORE the stories from the comics, indeed story wise I generally prefer the comics to the show... BUT THERE IS NO VENUS AND IT SUCKS)

Outside of that / in the show proper.... hmm. I can't really think of one, to be honest?

======

Stingray: Again, the reoccuring and severe issue of the ladies being written out of the comics. Hate it so much beucase OUTSIDE of that the comics are TONS of fun.

As for the show proper obviously Phones once again Nah, nah. While he was underutilized, I can't honestly say that Phones was done dirty by the creators XD

I'm gonna go with an odd one here, and say the Aquaphibians. Their abilities tend to vary WIDELY, and we tend to get either 'totally evil and crazy to boot and want to kill anything that is not us (Triton and his forces) or... kinda useless and passive characters who don't DO anything on their own / need constant saving. Marina is an exception to this (even if she DOES get herself in trouble on the regular, she isn't PASSIVE and always TRIES. ***TRYING OCCURED*** success varies, and mind she DOES save the day quite often, but rather like Troy there is a strong trend of 'trying occurred, success debatable' XD

But the Aquaphibians OUTSIDE of her (not including evil ones) Just don't get to DO much of anything

======

Lady Penelope: Parker in the show, particularly in the two films. He just... came across as less useful and having less courage in the show/films than he did in the comics (and ESPECIALLY the novels. Parker got to SHINE in the LP and TB novels. Theydon obviously loved Parker and it shows). But outside of one or two moments when he got to show off his skills, Parker gets undercut in the show proper (and particularly in the films), which is too bad becuase he's REALLY AWESOME in the comics and novels.

TAG Penny: Penny herself. I don't get WHY the creators went the route they did with Penny.... maybe they didn't want two bad ass spies in the show? But if you could 'only have one'... PENNY SHOULD HAVE KEPT HER SPY STATUS, she is one of the FIRST female spy characters, was a 'female James Bond' and was (And is) quite an icon for who and what she was, esp for how EARLY it was in film/television.... Just let Penny be the special ops/spy and give Kayo her own skillset - focus more on the security side of things and drop the special ops for her. But as it stands, Penny got nerfed pretty badly in TAG. She's young, naive, uncertain of herself, has no combat or stealth skills, gets quite emotional (and fearful) fairly often, and even her socialite skills feel... a bit roughshod and 'just getting started'. *shrugs* I like her, but only so long as I consider her to be an OC that happens to share the same name as the og Penny.

======

Thunderbirds: Comics erasing Grandma and TinTin. Again, REALLY SUCKS given how much I love the comic stories.

In the show proper... Grandma. She comes across as foolish and fearful in "Move... and You're Dead!" and then doesn't really get to DO ANYTHING in the other episodes outside of remembering the Underground one time. The novels, thankfully, correct this - making her a calm and strong willed, yet still incredibly KIND and down to earth woman, who gets to really hold the family together and pulls Jeff out of a vicious depressive spiral when it seems like Alan, Virgil, and Scott have been killed; TinTin, Brains, and Lady Penelope have been kidnapped; and the Hood has successfully captured Thunderbird Three. It's one of my favorite moments IN the novels, and it really defined Grandma Tracy to me when I was a kid, so I ended up quite disappointed when she didn't really get moments like she did in the novels in the show. We get a GLIMPSE of it in Vault of Death (and End of the Road as well to a degree) but I never really got to see the Grandma I'd come to know in the novels in the show.

TAG: Can I count machines in this? BECUASE I REALLY WANT TO!! :( Thunderbird One got NERFED, y'all. In making it where all the TBs can solo missions (and removing Scott's role as Field Commander... seriously, does Scott get to succeed in ANY mission solo?! He doesn't ever really act as commander, that goes to Sally, and every time he's on a rescue he seems to just do what others tell him to do instead of soloing it), One got nerfed. She's FAST yes, but her sensor/scanner array is gone, she lacks the ability to bring gear (or people) to rescues so the rescues she can solo are HIGHLY limited, and it just... feels like they kept the basics of each craft without really understanding the role each craft brought to the table. Four and Three weren't used that often simply becuase they were HIGHLY specialized (and you has WASP and WARP/Fireballs canonically handling rescues in those areas so there wasn't much call for them... and technically Four is a Pod vehicle like the Mole and Firefly and Domo... it's just that she's GORDON'S personal craft, thus she s given the Thunderbird status because THAT IS WHAT MAKES A CRAFT A THUNDERBIRD - and is what thunderbird 6 didn't understand. If Gordon had been focused on mining or firefighting, Thunderbird Four would have been the Mole/Firefly and not the sub) five was the communications hub and rescue call receiver, two was the workhorse/ heavy hauler... one's purpose was to GET ON SITE FAST so that Scott could figure out what they needed / how to affect the rescue... and in the comics and novels, there are many times that Scott just coordinates the rescue with locals and/or acts as a scout to find a missing person or the like.

04 Film: Gordon, Virgil, and Scott. They could have been written out of the Film and no one would have noticed :(

======

Captain Scarlet: hrrrrrrrrrrrmmmmm.... ....oh this one is HARD. I guess if I had to choose, then it'd be Black. We only get a glimpse of who he was before hand, and the show treats him as if he was VOLUNTARILY helping the Mysterons / is evil himself (even to the point that he is called a Mysteron Agent) when he is really the first victim of the Mysterons and one held and tortured by them the longest. ...we're told in supplemental material that Black was a REALLY GOOD man, honorable and admired by pretty much everyone that knew him. It feels like the creators did him dirty when who he is/was is never mentioned and no attempt is made to save him or even specify that he (basically) is just the Mysterons using him as a mask

new Captain Scarlet: Destiny (and Magenta). They managed to take one of the top five most popular characters from the OG and turn her (and Magenta) into the most disliked by the fanbase - to the point where both were basically written out of Season 2 as much as possible. I went in expecting to LOVE Destiny as she has long been in my top 3 CS characters... and it ended up being the Godfather 'look at how they massacred my boy' meme

[radramblog]

we live in a society (that has progressed)

There’s always an interminable shift, a flux, in culture that can be hard to spot if you don’t quite know what you’re looking for. As times change, people grow, and media is released, causing perspectives and opinions in the general psyche to sway over the course of human cultural history.

Basically, the Joker is allowed to be funny again, and that’s a good thing.

I’m not going to bother explaining who the Joker is to you, like I often do when I’m introducing a post like this. It’s the fucking Joker, I’d be shocked if you didn’t know what the character is. You have to be online to see this post, after all, and if you’re on the obscure rabbit-hole known as My Tumblr, you’re online enough to see Joker memes and such.

The Joker is an inherently ridiculous character. He’s literally a clown man, a foil to the deadpan Batman, humour literally written into his name. And while I cannot possibly capture the full breadth of his various iterations and interpretations over the course of DC Comics’s long history, a lot less people are going to have read the comics than seen the adaptations of such, and those are what has stuck out in the public consciousness. There’s a few versions in particular I’d like to highlight before I get into the meat of this.

In particular, the early visual interpretations of the character are, well, monumentally silly. It’s impossible to talk about the 1966 Adam West Batman series without an understanding of just how camp the whole thing was, and the Joker is no exception to this. Even Jack Nicholson’s performance in the 1989 film is inherently silly despite it’s overall serious tone, a villain who kills people with a chemical called, I shit you not, Smylex. Considering the actor, and especially considering what came just a year before that film, such a portrayal is actually kind of a confusing cultural milestone.

And that thing that came a year beforehand is The Killing Joke, potentially the most iconic Batman comic, nay, DC comic there is. And with it, potentially the most sympathetic portrayal of the Joker that there had been so far. A man driven mad by exposure, a situation he was only in to afford his family’s bills. It presents the most clear image of him as Batman’s mirror- literally, at times, and yet shows some of his most shocking brutality at the same time. The idea of the comic, if I may be so bold, is to imply that the line between Batman and the Joker isn’t quite so thick as it appears at first glance.

We don’t talk about the animated version of the Killing Joke.

I’m going to move right past the Animated Series in general, not because it’s bad or anything, but because I’m relatively unfamiliar with it (this may be a reoccurring theme) I’ve only seen a handful of episodes, the ones my family had on VHS, and they sure didn’t have the Joker in them. (The Gray Ghost and….I think a Scarecrow episode? Which was a hell of a thing to see as a kid). It does have his portrayal with Mark Hamill as the voice actor, though, which is frankly such a choice decision.

The thing that made the Joker, and the Batman franchise as a whole, come back into the limelight was obviously the Nolan movies, specifically The Dark Knight. Being the face of such a critically acclaimed movie with such an incredible performance by Heath Ledger (I am obliged to stan, he’s from Perth, I’ve met his stepdad) is obviously going to get the name back in the books, even if it’s such a different version from what had previously been seen.

Ledger’s Joker has a humour, sure, but it’s a significantly more morbid one than previous incarnations. Previous Jokers killed people, sure, but The Dark Knight added a level of brutality to the whole thing that made the character so much more serious, pun not intended. One can largely attribute this to the darker tone of the film he appears in compared to previous Batmans (especially the 90s films), because in those versions the Joker was, well, not a serious character. He doesn’t interact with the world in the same way other people do, his values are completely alien. Ledger’s Joker has a very specific ideology, one people can understand, and more relevantly, one people can misunderstand.

The actual post begins here.

Ledger’s Joker has been the icon of the edgy teenager since The Dark Knight came out and was watched by millions of them. Something about the character speaks to them, something about being an outsider, not like the other people, and also both smart and violent, which are attributes that 13-year-olds idolise.

A Joker profile picture has long been one of the biggest red flags on the internet. A sure sign that someone is going to say the dumbest fucking thing imaginable, or something hideously offensive apropos of absolutely nothing. This isn’t even getting into how the character became an icon for the Gamers Rise Up movement, which I will remind you that a fair few people actually took seriously. A legion of the worst of nerd culture- misogynistic, racist, and toxic folks who have nothing better to do than yell at people on Reddit.

Where as I, the cultured individual, explain things to people on Tumblr. Very different. But the point is, this specific version of the character is an anarchist, out to prove that, at the end of the day, every single person has the potential to become a monster, that chaos is the nature of humanity, somewhat akin to his portrayal and point in The Killing Joke- all it takes is the right thing to set you off. This twisting of the message into “im better and smarter than u also I will kill u” is frankly kind of disgusting.

The point I’m trying to get to is that for the last decade-ish, The Joker, a character built around humour and gratuity, has become incredibly unfunny. From the internet fuckwits to the grim Ledger portrayal, the character with Joke in their name has been impossible to laugh at.

Another factor contributing to this is the growing awareness and increased sympathy for mentally ill people, which is where Joker (the film) comes in. Now, obviously, the understanding of mental issues is not a bad thing, and I’d love to see this trend continue. But my understanding is that Joker and its titular character are not a particularly humourous time, despite the character literally being a comedian this time.

To be clear, I have not seen the movie, and I have no intention to, so feel free to completely ignore my opinion on this. But the fact that the film seemed to have made all the GRU stuff worse is not a good sign for it.

However, as in life and in media, all things shall pass, and that does include the Joker. Ignoring Suicide Squad (because I know like nothing about the Joker’s place in that film and don’t want to research it), late 2010-s on portrayals of the Joker appear to be returning to the characters roots somewhat, though to be fair, both of the things I’m basing my judgement are comedy features.

The first is, oddly enough, the Lego Batman movie. I can understand not having seen this film, because from the outside, it didn’t look or sound good, but the whole thing is basically a love letter to Batman/DC as a franchise, complete with possibly the silliest incarnation of the character so far. This Joker is utterly obsessed with proving himself as Batman’s equal, as the greatest villain to rival the greatest hero. He’s probably the most potentially homoerotic interpretation, which is kind of silly considering he’s literally a Lego dude. But the movie is funny, and so is he, which is the key point.

The other recent addition to this list is the Harley Quinn animated series, where the Joker obviously plays a significant role. Now, I’m not really familiar at all with this interpretation, having not seen the show, but considering the memes going around about Batman apparently not doing oral, and that having stemmed from this show, it’s not hard to imagine the Joker’s portrayal being similarly silly- even if his canonical abusee is the protagonist. Like, I’m pretty sure he’s a bastard in this one, but he’s also the butt of the joke, considering the series is in large part about Harley getting over him and moving past that part of her life (and ideally hooking up with Poison Ivy, because, come on)

I guess my point is that the Joker is an inherently comic character, in all that entails. You cannot have the Joker not be in some way silly without making massive changes to his design, his characterisation, and his ideals- which is pretty much what has happened in the past few years. I mean, the guy’s got bright green hair, he wears purple suits, he kills people with laughing gas.

This comic, by artist FruitEater, is kind of what inspired this whole post. It’s such a silly little thing from a silly little trend, but it really stuck in my head, and not just because it reminded me of my past self- a child who was super into Crazy Frog when I was, like, 10. It’s a comic that couldn’t exist were it not for the passage of time beyond the era of edgy Joker. Time has moved on- Gamers Rise Up is dying (the subreddit got banned, where else are they supposed to go?), cringe culture is dying, and the Joker is a character that’s allowed to be funny again.

We can laugh with the Joker again.

[kalliejupiter]

Some LEWKS from fashion illustration, or rather a fall capsule collection that I would wear myself if I were an intergalactic space provocateur (thus the inclusion of pants and a sensible heel). My partner and I debated the practicality of a drop-crotch pant I. The cockpit of a spacecraft—I and my instructor agree that the drop-crotch is totally fine, and fabulous. Besides, I’m not taking design advice from a guy who still dresses like he’s in junior high (JK, I ❤️ my partner). I tend to write long posts, and I like talking about and documenting ideation. So, I headlined each segment for easier navigation. Just some details on concepts, design process, and such. I will post more sketches, line drawings, fabric swatches, and maybe color comps later. The Assignment: Create a ten piece collection. Decide the season, demographic, include at least five different types of garments (trousers, dresses, at least one coat, etc. I also had to draw out the flats and include swatches and stuff. In the end I had to edit down from at least 20 initial sketches. Designing wearable sci-fi LEWKS comes easy to me, but self-editing does not. Take note toxic masculinity in geek culture, a girl can still be sexy in pants and a sensible heel and drawing something from the female gaze doesn’t mean a dude can’t appreciate it... I used my sensibilities as a starting point—although, in the end the collection skews a little younger than my demographic (I can get away with it as a woman of color because a WOC could be anywhere between the ages of 25 and 45 without a stranger being able to tell the difference. I’m still a little punk rock at my age, but if I had more time, I would create a companion collection that’s a little more stately and tailored for a more professional lady in my demographic (while maintaining the visual cohesion with the collection I eventually made). The instructor initially thought I was joking, because I actually submitted a market plan that said my target demographic was an intergalactic space nomad, political double-agent, listed the median income in space credits, and made several references to lasers and cyborgs. Spoiler alert, I got an ‘A’ on the final. I prefer fall to any other season, so too is my collection for fall. Fall, as a whole, has a wide range of potential garments, mostly because fall weather is so drastically varied (in spite of this, it is usually the BEST weather of any given place, IMHO). I also like fall color palettes best (as a suburban teen I spent my adolescence wearing all black, listening to Morresey, and writing really terrible poetry, like every other suburbanite teenager). Dark colors are slimming and hide a myriad of sins, accidents, and the bloodstains of your slain enemies. I wanted to include both a short and long coat/jacket, day wear, one formal piece, a jumpsuit of some kind, a mini and maxi silhouette, a work outfit, something to work as loungewear, something to work as activewear, and something that would look cool on a robot. I also wanted to strike a balance between bodycon silhouettes and easy to wear volume—which is probably why the collection ballooned into something as large as this one did—there were so many variations of single pieces that it was hard to choose which of them to include. The piece variations themselves were compelling on their own and also in comparison to its counterpart that it became more interesting to present looks as side-by-side options. Each look was multilayered, highly detailed, and designed to be physically adaptable/changeable anyway, so assigning a single croquis to a look seemed like a wasted opportunity. References and Ideation: I got the ideas for the collection from real life. One of the weird things I picked up from the military was from Basic, and it’s the idea that you are issued all of these pieces with utilitarian properties at first that encapsulates everything you’d ever need, apparel-wise (from underwear to formal wear, and for all weather and situations) and all of it can fit in a single seabag. It was fun trying to imagine what shenanigans one could experience as an intergalactic scene-girl, and what kind of clothes she might want. The concept of a sea bag (or “space bag,” in this case) jives with the idea of a capsule collection (stylish staple pieces that can be worn over many seasons with smaller, less expensive pieces that can be altered or replaced by trendier items as the seasons progress). All the pieces can be mix-and-matched and are adaptable in many ways—there is something gender neutral about a lot of it (I wish I designed the bodysuits with more variation in the briefs: make some with compression shorts, leggings, and such—I didn’t really consider these separate LEWKS, per se, but layering pieces, because some part of my underpants are always showing under my garments, and if you are going to have exposed bra straps, make it look like you did it on purpose). Also, the tailored structure and details of military clothing are really are really cool design elements to explore. I also used Middle Eastern references to balance out the designs—mostly because I thought it would be thematically appropriate/ironic to combine the two style sensibilities (non-Western cultures have so many more interesting silhouettes in any case—it might be appropriation, but in the neutral sense of the term). The concept of armor and utility informs every piece. Those concepts also the reason I referenced (or resurrected) less common clothing items and styles. For example, the quilted leather snood, a pleated leather bolero, spats over the boots, and a molded, hooded, cuirass (leather is a good material, it adapts to the wearer like a second skin and because of that, the material plays into the theme of personalizing a basic uniform to make it one’s own—90% of the swatches for the collection are organic or natural fibers because I would think the artificial environments and materials of space might make one long for something more “natural,” especially with something as intimate as the clothing that separates a persons skin from everything else. It’s also luxe and sometime more durable). Aesthetically, details like cording, high waisted pants, draped tops, high necklines, and asymmetrical hemlines reoccur as a design through line in the collection. Utilitarian features, like zippers and velcro closures, do double duty as both functional and aesthetic elements. A practical zipper on a detachable long sleeve becomes the decorative beam on the short sleeved version. Velcro tans on an exaggerated drop-crotch pant transform the garment from a maxi silhouette into short and leggings combo. I admit, this comes from my unironic love of those weird convertible bridesmaids dresses that people always end up lazily tying around their neck. Look Details (the Coverall): That’s why there is a “fashion coverall” in this collection—I know from experience that those are the comfiest work pajamas, ever, and even though this collection is supposed to exist a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I did want to reference some contemporary trends and needed a non-catsuit jumpsuit, and tailored coveralls seem very classic in a way that could be stylish beyond the current moment. I wanted to use design to solve actual practical problems. For example, instead of the traditional buttoned cuffs and collar, I chose to use a ribbed knit on both the neck and 3/4 sleeves. It is more comfortable and easy to wear, works just as well in a hot engineering space or in the colder climate controlled server spaces and Officer decks of a ship, and prevents the clothing from getting caught on equipment and becoming a liability on trouble calls or planet-side laser melee. The knees have built-in padding, and Velcro patch details, so our girl can switch allegiances fairly easily. The only thing is the lack of pockets. A cargo short is an amazing idea. In the abstract. I have never seen one in public that did not look like an Eldrich Abomination. If someone needs to Cary so much stuff in their pockets that their pants look like they are hiding the legs of Yogsheggoth, perhaps it’s time to consider carrying a bag. I’m looking at you, Dudes. Also, the belts and harnesses of the collection were designed with detachable pockets and specialized equipment in mind. I kind of wish I designed the piece with a jodhpur or cigarette leg silhouette instead of a boot cut. Both the jodhpurs and cigarette leg would have been more interesting, especially if I had also designed a short, romper version of the piece. Final Thoughts (for now...): I don’t expect anyone to have read all the way through this, and if you have, thanks! Feel free to contact me with any questions, requests, random musings, like, share and follow. I’ll try to be less wordy in the future. A Word of Thanks to the Fashion Illustration Class: I really enjoyed that class. Everyone of my classmates had different skills, experience, and came from a lot of different disciplines (for example, I make comics and work in advertising, some were animators, some fashion students, and one was an editorial photographer who didn’t draw well in the conventional sense of it, but drew croquis that had the character of a Mondiglioni and could convey not only the sense of the garments, but the personality of the girl who wore them). We talked about everything, asked a lot of good questions, and hyped each other up for fashion in general. I will say that out of the many years of studying various art disciplines in various classrooms and open critiques, this was the first time I experienced colleagues as open and giving as these classmates were. I’m used to a lot of pushback and blank stares during critiques (especially when I give them—I obviously talk a lot, and connect ideas to a lot of obscure references—“consider the jodhpurs,” “you seem really into minimal geometric patterning—write down ‘Ainu’ and look up their textiles and mouth tattoos,” “there is something very vaporwave about this non-binary collection, I see a lot of pastels and navy,” “I know exactly who the girl is that wears this collection—she converted an Arizona ranch into a minimal art gallery in the middle of nowhere, collects antiques from the late 1950’s and Kieth Harring prints, and makes excellent margheritas...”—and then they would use my suggestions by the next critique! WHAT!!?!), but people really listened and we all tried to understand each others point of view and encourage one another. I loved that class.

[otako-studios]

Damage Control

I am not the author of this post, here’s the source of the post

I’ve been thinking about this lately, and I’m a rather observant person - and after seeing a lot of accounts from several people, and also regarding my own accounts, I’ve come to some kind of conclusion: There has been a lot of strange reoccurring themes that have come up with the status of Riley in Otako Studios and the PSG2 Comic. Take a look at these posts from the now unused otakostudios blog (via another blog I will not publicly link)

According to this post, as of July 8, 2015 Riley was no longer allowed to publicly post on Otako Studios. These posts were also made by B0ss themselves. I find this strange, because it seems to me that this trend of Riley being removed or not allowed to post on behalf of Otako Studios has happens several times in the past. Apologizing on behalf of Riley also happened when Griddles was added and removed from the comic (time-stamp matching other posts on the subject.)

It makes me think back to the post on otakoisshit that was submitted by Shrike:

Riley not being allowed to post on social media, make public posts, or interact with people over the internet seems to be the way that Otako Studios and Big B0ss do damage control - they apologize for Riley’s behavior on her behalf, and subsequently ban her from posting or don’t allow her to access certain accounts. If this wasn’t something that was so consistent and so common from this group of people, I wouldn’t look at it twice, but the fact that both a brand new person from the Otako Studios Team and B0ss have said nearly the exact same thing in regards to how to handle Riley and the shit she has caused, makes me think that its simply the same thing all over again, and that it may evidently even be the same person.

This is really not how these problems should be fixed. I think that its important to apologize on behalf of the behavior of friends that you know or people you work with, but it ultimately means nothing if those people still exhibit the same behavior. If they don’t apologize themselves, then what does it matter in the end?

Truth is: It doesn’t.

[creativelyderangedme]

Last Night

Chapter 2: Trending

Next chapter

In his own excitement of the found images and the ‘sort-of’ answers to why he would ditch his friends, Adrien hadn’t anticipated his best friend’s reaction to the same revelation.

It was like Nino had been frozen in place, eyes comically wide and mouth moving slightly with words he seemed incapable of voicing out loud. Brown irises bounced from the picture up to Adrien’s face, then back down again before jumping once more to the blonde’s clothes, taking stock of him in piecemeal.

Only to repeat that process another two times while his expression grew more thunderstruck by the second.

“Oh my god…” He finally mumbled just before Adrien was going to ask if he was okay.

“OH - My God.” Nino repeated, hands coming up to press at his temples, looking like the perfect dictionary description of ‘mind utterly blown’, and suddenly the blonde didn’t really know how he was supposed to reply.  

He was pretty shocked too… but even he wasn’t reacting like-

“Woahwoahwoahwoah-wait. Are-are you telling me…” the DJ swallowed thickly, eyes finally meeting him; staring him down like a total stranger, but somehow also completely awestruck at the same time, “T-that you-you’re- Chat Noir?”

Oh. 

Ooohh...

Right. That.

Fuck.

Damn his stupid, tired, hungover brain.

Years of protecting his secret identity from friend and foe alike, and he lets it slip without even being prompted. Like a filterless moron. How the hell did he just forget that his best friend didn’t know he was Chat Noir - no, better yet, how the fuck did he even figure it out? He’d been fully decked out in Chat Noir costume before and no one ever batted an eye before?

Adrien didn’t even need to confirm his suspicions it seemed, as Nino fell back into his own seat and continued staring at him, coming to the only conclusion left to assume in the blonde’s lack of denial. 

Denial that would have rolled off the tongue far easier if he still wasn’t fighting the sluggishness of the hangover from hell.

Even still, he kept coming back to that same frantic thought of how strange it was that Nino had immediately jumped to the superhero alter-ego conclusion with just a picture of him in a mask. Miraculous magic or no, he looked and acted differently enough behind the mask of Chat Noir that he hadn’t been concerned that anyone would connect the two.

So after a moment of juggling the pros and cons of trying to play it off and denying it, the blonde sighed heavily, with a slow hesitant nod, needing something, anything to ground him. 

Not that it mattered much anymore.

But, this wasn’t how this was supposed to go.

And as much as he loved his friend, Nino wasn’t supposed to have been the first to find out.

Adrien swallowed back those thoughts as they brought an unpleasant wave of bitterness he wasn’t quite sober enough to confront, but sat on his chest anyways like a bad case of indigestion.

“More appropriate to say I was Chat Noir.” Some of that bitterness seeped into his tone and the blonde winced at how pathetic it sounded. This wasn’t the time to focus on old wounds, he decided, turning back to his friend, “How did you make that connection anyways? That’s kind of a leap in logic for just looking at one picture.”

Nino scoffed with a chuckle, “Not really. It’s only been all over the internet.”

What? What was all over the internet?

Before he could voice that question, though, Nino was leaning back in, “What happened? Where have you guys been? I mean, I know where you’ve been, but Ladybug and Chat Noir - you guys disappeared right after-” He hesitated, and Adrien knew what he meant, and by the way his friend’s usually dark complection seemed to pale impossibly white, he could see the puzzle pieces finally clicking into place, “Oh my god,” he repeated, and it was clear that this was going to be a reoccuring theme for the rest of this conversation.

“You’re Chat Noir. You literally arrested your own - “ Did it sting to have one’s eyes pulled that wide open? Adrien assumed it probably did. “Dude…”

With eloquence like that, how could the blonde ever hope to respond?

Man - hungover Adrien was kind of a dick. Noted.

Not trusting the headache induced sarcasm that was likely to be his response to the shit show that was his life paraphrased down to a single grief stricken ‘dude’, Adrien merely nodded.

Never in his life was he so glad his friend knew him well enough to read the room and move on. 

This wasn’t a conversation he was ready for. 

Wasn’t a year ago. Definitely wasn’t now.

“Why’d you guys disappear? There were so many different rumors about you. People were actually saying you were dead! I mean - until last night at least.”

They were still dangerously close to the topic he really didn’t want to address, not that the answer to this question was any less of a touchy subject, “Not dead. Just… retired.” A sigh escaped him as he considered his friend, trying to decide how much he should share.

Old habits and all that, but beyond protecting a secret identity that was no longer secret (or his), there were just things he wasn’t supposed to talk about. Things he’d promised to keep between him and Ladybug. 

But he knew he also couldn’t leave his friend completely in the dark. 

“Right around the time of my Father’s sentencing,” No doubt Nino caught the grimace he tried to keep off his face at the mention of his father, “Ladybug and I were… more or less forced to retire. We were given enough time to give our testimonies and to make any final appearances expected of us, and then we,” A deep breath and a scowl and Adrien couldn’t look his friend in the eyes anymore as he continued, “then we turned over our miraculouses to the Order of Guardians.”

“Wha - Why? Why would they force you guys to retire like that?”

It was a fair question. One he’d asked and begged to get an answer to as well. Something about the fact that the miraculouses hadn’t been Master Fu’s to give away - or to pass guardianship over to Ladybug. Something about balance having been restored and no further need for children to be playing hero (though, the monk who’d sought them out had been far kinder in his word choice).

They hadn’t exactly given them much choice in the matter, either. It was either comply or have guardianship forcibly revoked from Ladybug (which they could do apparently??) - resulting in her loss of memories. 

But that was a whole can of frustration Adrien was not about to unleash on his best friend, so he chose to shrug off the question. 

He didn’t want to linger on the why anymore. It hurt too much.

So he chose to come back to the more pressing issue at hand, “What did you mean about last night?”

Nino hummed in question, then understanding lit his features, “Oh, right - Social was blowing up last night with sightings of #LadyNoir all over the city! I actually wouldn’t have made the connection, except -” The DJ grabbed his phone, quickly scrolling through something until he found what he was looking for, and turned the device around to show Adrien.

It was a photo on instagram - some profile he didn’t recognize, with a candid shot of a couple wanding the city of lights and love hand-in-hand (or more precisely, a young woman laughing - chasing after a young man, as he pulled her by the hand towards some unknown destination, looking back at her like she’d hung the moon and stars), backdropped by warmly glowing shops.

The cation under the photo: “#LADYNOIR spotted in the BLANK adronisment - OMG THEY LOOK SO HAPPY!! 🐞🐱💖😭🥰🥰🥰🥰 #myshiphassailed #socute #theydeservesomuchlove #thankyouforprotectingparis #LADYNOIR4LIFE   

It took him an embarrassing amount of time to realize exactly what he was looking at  - that the cute couple was in fact him and Ladybug from the night before, but once it hit him, he understood how Nino came to the conclusion he had.

Kind of hard to deny when he was literally wearing the same outfit from both photos.

Still didn’t explain how anyone else had come to the conclusion that this was in fact Ladybug and Chat Noir galavanting around the city, looking for all the world certifiably adorable to the point it should be (and probably was) illegal.

And there was a small garbled voice calling out to him in the back of his mind saying that this was important. More than knowing he'd been with Ladybug, someone else knew he was with Ladybug. 

"Wait… but that's a different picture than mine."

Nino gave him a small nod, "yeah, that’s what Im saying! You guys have been trending all night. Alya was having a fucking fit about it.”

He knew what his friend was telling him, but god help him, there just weren't enough synapses firing in the hungover grey matter between his ears to really pick up what his sober thoughts was telling him.

This was important.

Someone else knew Chat Noir and Ladybug had been together the night before. Lots of someones. “So, are there other pictures on social?”

“Yeah. Tons of them. Whenever someone recognized the two of you, they’d tag the locations."

"Everytime?"

"Yeah. Alya said something about it every time a new sighting went up. I think I heard the same rant from her no less than twenty or thirty times about not being able to catch up to you guys." He shrugged, "we were kinda busy looking for another elusive blonde." The DJ joked, eyes narrowing playfully.

But Adrien was too lost in his thoughts to catch it. If every time they were recognized, someone tagged the location, there was a literal road map online of his evening. He could figure out how he'd gotten here.

More importantly though, he could figure out how he'd ended up with Ladybug, and maybe… maybe he could figure out where she'd gone. 

Maybe he still had a chance.

Maybe there was time to right the wrongs and get her back.

There had to be something there. Pictures like the ones he'd seen of them together and happy just couldn't be wrong.

"Nino. I have to find her. I-I have to figure out what happened last night. I have to visit the places we went last night. Maybe that will trigger my memories."

Nino gaped at him like he'd grown a second head, "Wha- are you crazy?"

"No! Yes? Maybe. I don't know. But I can't leave Paris without knowing what happened. I can't just leave it like this. I have to know."

"Cant you just… call her up? Why do we have to go adventuring around Paris?"

Frantic fingers combed through his hair, "I can't just call her up! I don't even know who she is! But if I go to these places, it might maybe-"

"Dude, you're literally leaving Paris in-” He checked his watch before giving him a rather pointed look, “twenty-four hours. You really want to go on some wild goose chase for a girl you're not sure you're going to be able to find?"

It was again, a fair question.

Adrien had made no attempts at hiding how badly he wanted to leave Paris after everything had come to light and he'd had to relinquish Plagg. The need to leave and live outside the gilded cage where no one would know his face was so strong, the first opportunity that came, he booked a one-way flight with no plans for a return in the foreseeable future.

But this… this changed his priorities.

"This isn't just any girl, Nino. This is Ladybug. And I… I need to find her. If I don't do this, I will regret it for the rest of my life."

This was more important than anything else. He couldn’t exactly explain to his friend why. Not yet. But if there was even a glimmer of a chance, even just the smallest hope he could find her and get her back, he would trade everything for it.

Nino sighed heavily, watching him carefully for a long time. Adrien was starting to worry his friend would deny him his request. After the stunt he'd pulled, Nino had every right. But that fear was short lived as his friends' face softened and a grin spread over his lips.

"What are we waiting for, then? Let's go find your ladybug."

@whatifkailee @globerjk @eatmysandwiches @yourkazarinalove @floraone

Last Night

It’s been a year since the defeat of Hawkmoth and Adrien and Nino are going out for one last hoorah before Adrien embarks on the next chapter of his life.

But, when Adrien wakes up the next day, with the worst hangover of his life, no memory of the night before, and a series of pictures suggesting he’s just had the best night of his life - He has 24 hours to figure out what happened before he leaves Paris for good.

The first thing Adrien Agreste is aware of when consciousness hits him is the pounding headache.

It’s what he assumes it must feel like to be hit by a truck. Several times. In very quick succession. 

And he’s been pretty close to experiencing that in the past so he would know.

The second is the spinning. The sense of the world twirling around him like an out of control top despite the fact that he’s positive he’s stationary.

The third was how difficult it was to open his eyes - and not because he was still dead tired (which he was), but because the damned things were so damn heavy and the moment he did manage to pry one open, he had to shut it tight against the light.

Brightness like that should be illegal.

But despite the desire to curl back up and avoid the reality that was day time, Adrien’s body was awake. Or at least, it was trying to be. Which is more than he could say for his brain, which refused to supply him with a viable explanation for why the fuck he felt as ludicrously awful as he does?

Fine, brain. Be that way.

The blonde huffed out a mix between a sigh and a groan, fighting a sudden spike in dizziness, bringing his hands up to rub his face like the act could alleviate some of the awful in some way.

Only to pause when he found something covering what should have been his skin.

Unsure fingers find and trace the edges, quickly establishing that the obstruction is covering just around his eyes, and tying around the back of his head with silk ribbons.

A mask? Why was he wearing a mask?

Carefully, he untied the mask from his head,  grimacing as he lifted it from the pillow for the few moments it took, pulling it off to blink at it blearily; twisting it around in his hands. It was black and mostly plain, but well made - a sturdy material, not cheap plastic. 

He sat there staring at it for a long while, brow pulling together more and more as his eyes finally adjusted to the light.

What he hadn’t adjusted to, though, was the complete lack of recognition. The utter void of ‘Ah-ha’s, that should have hit him as his brain finally seemed to catch up with the rest of his body in the waking world.  

Alarmingly, still, it didn’t matter how hard he forced his brain to ponder the mystery. There was nothing. No flashes of memories. No hints to why he had the accessory. Just more confusion. 

Alright. So whatever he’d gotten up to the night before must have gotten stupid crazy. 

He didn’t have long to ponder that particular train of thought before a sudden buzz made Adrien jump, dropping the mask to the bed - oh, so he was in bed at least, interesting - in the process. 

A quick glance over to the nightstand revealed his phone dancing across the surface as it vibrated with an incoming call.

Who in the world would be calling this early?

And by early, he apparently meant not early at all, because it was already well after 11 am according to the unfamiliar alarm clock on the nightstand. 

He didn’t even remember the last time he’d slept in this late.

Or why there was a nightstand that looked nothing like his -

Oh.

Right. He’d rented a room with Nino. They’d planned on going out. There was supposed to be a party or something. They’d decided to split a room.

A room that was currently only occupied by him, he realized as he peered around, taking in his surroundings for the first time.

Where the hell was Nino?

The buzzing of his phone reminded Adrien that someone was still trying to get a hold of him, and he should probably answer. 

And stop staring at it like it was a foreign concept.

God, how much did I drink last night?

With more effort than should have been necessary, Adrien sat up, grabbing his phone and feeling the now-familiar sense of confusion wash over him as he stared at Nino’s caller ID.

Speak of the devil. 

Without much thought, Adrien hit the video function and waited for the call to connect, showing his best friend staring at the phone like years of tension and fear were being washed away.

And quickly being replaced by anger.

“DUDE! FUCKING FINALLY!! WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?”

In his need to escape the headache that his friend’s tone assaulted, he nearly dropped his phone, thrusting it as far away from himself (without actually throwing it) as he could. 

God love the guy for being one of the best people the blonde had ever met, loving with every fiber of his being and putting as much of that emotion into everything he said - but damn he could be as loud as his girlfriend sometimes. 

And the last thing Adrien needed right now was an Alya level of volume.

“Dude…Stop yelling at me.” The blonde groaned, dropping his own voice as if showing the DJ how inside voices were supposed to work.

Nino narrowed his eyes on him in a glare that didn’t have quite the heat he probably meant it to have, “Oh excuse me for being a little freaked out that my best friend is missing!”

“Missing? What are you talking about? And where are you? I thought we were rooming together?”

“We were rooming together. And I’m exactly where I was supposed to be. In OUR hotel room. Where the hell are you, cause it’s definitely not here.”

Ignoring the returning Alya levels of volume to Nino’s tone, because frankly, the blonde could only really focus on one problem at a time, he gave Nino his best impression of a fish as his mouth opened and closed a few times as he tried to register what the man was saying to him.

He wasn’t in the room they’d reserved?

“What? But…” he looked around, vision still swimming slightly around the edges but able to focus a bit more on the room itself. It looked just like the room he and Nino had checked into, swanky but modern, every bachelor’s idea of clean-lined luxury as it was accented in woodsy browns and velvety navy blues, but, you know, minus the best friend roommate. “Are you sure?”

He turned back to the phone when he was met by silence only to find his friend’s unamused expression, “Yes, Adrien. I’m sure.”

“So where the hell am I?”

Adrien had never seen Nino facepalm so hard in the entirety of their friendship, “You don’t know?”

He probably should have been annoyed at the sarcasm, but it was hard to feel anything past the still lingering pulsing pain in his temples, “No, I… I have no idea what happened last night.” Adrien frowned as another wave of pain flashed over his brain at the attempt to remember, and a bout of nausea made him take a few deep breaths.

“Wait… like at all?”

Instead of replying, uncertain if he’d be able to keep the contents of his stomach from resurfacing, Adrien shook his head, his eyes landing back on the bedside table in the process.

Leaning over, the blonde opened the table’s drawer, pulling a pad of stationary and a pamphlet from its contents, giving it a quick once over for the address.

An address that matched that of the hotel he and Nino had booked their room at - The Hoxton Paris. He was in the hotel after all.

“I’m in the same hotel.” He leaned over again, ignoring the churning of his stomach as he checked the phone next to the bed, “room 414.”

“Why the hell are you two floors up?”

Adrien shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine at this point.”

Nino sighed loudly giving him a hard look over the line before resigning, “Alright man, get dressed. I’ll come to you.”

Thanking his best friend, Adrien tossed the phone on to the plush mattress behind him before falling back on it himself to stare up at the ceiling.

Somewhere along the night, he’d gone missing and ended up in a completely different hotel room. Scratch stupid crazy - this was some next-level ridiculous.

Get dressed, I’ll come to you.

In the time since waking up, it never once occurred to Adrien to take in his state of dress - or, as he quickly realized as he glanced down with a frown blown into wide eyes, lack thereof. 

He wasn’t naked, but he wasn’t in his Sunday best, either. His boxer briefs still covered the necessities, but he was free of anything else.

Which reminded him again that he needed to make himself decent before his best friend came storming in. Which, Nino was bound to do any moment now.

Finding his clothes was a snap as they were draped carefully over the folding luggage rack on the other side of the room, though, just like with the mask, he didn’t remember this particular ensemble. Well, he remembered packing it. But he didn’t remember putting it on. 

In fact, the last memory he had was of the more professional sports jacket and lighter collared shirt and tie he’d worn to the last meeting he was going to have in the Gabriel Paris headquarters for the foreseeable future.

Ever - if he had his way.

With a sigh, Adrien pulled the long-sleeved maroon under-shirt on first, pausing briefly as a strange smell washed over him - like bleach. No, that couldn’t be right. There were no obvious bleach stains on the shirt, and a quick wafting sample of the rest of his clothes only found that his fitted black slacks were the only other thing that smelled the same. 

So not bleach… but something close to it? 

Whatever. Too many mysteries, not enough brainpower to piece them together.

Pulling the rest of his clothes on, he had to appreciate Drunk Adrien’s sense of style. It was a clean look, but roguish and darkly sensual too with the mix of maroon under dark grey collared button-up and black jeans that he knew fit him in all the right ways. 

Though, his favorite piece was the leather jacket still draped over the chair.

It had been something of an impulse buy, not that he didn’t have the money to spare.

But the way it zipped up, pockets and zippers symmetrical on either side of the lapels, and the attached belt that buckled around the stomach… It reminded him so much of his suit as Chat Noir that he couldn’t not have it. 

On the days when he needed the most confidence was when he pulled out the jacket. Just to remind him of where he’d come from. What he’d accomplished. Who he could be.

He’d worn the jacket a lot after Plagg had to leave.

A swift tapping at the door to the suite shook the blonde from his memories and he quickly went to unlock the door, to note a little curiously that the additional swinging latch was left undone - not that he could speak much for Drunk Adrien, but Sober Adrien always flipped the swinging latch.

With another quick shake of his head, he unlocked the door to find Nino waiting outside, hands shoved in his pockets, nodding to him in greeting before brushing past him to enter the room. 

“So that’s what you ended up in,” Nino muttered as he passed, giving the ensemble a strange look as he did. A look Adrien really wasn’t in the right mind to decipher at the moment.

“I think so? They’re the only clothes I had in the room.” He affirmed before trudging into the bathroom and flicking on the lights to take in the damage.

All-in-all, he didn’t look half bad for the hangover he was experiencing. He could have done without the blood-shot rimmed eyes, but frankly, he’d had worse mornings in high school after a night chasing after a wayward Akuma, then having to get up only a few hours later for class.

Funny that it felt so long ago that that was a regular occurrence when in reality it was only a short year ago since the defeat of the greatest enemy to Paris.

He shifted his face around under the bright bathroom fluorescents to get a good look at his complexion, noting with a frown how he also could have done without the sickly pale lack of color to his skin. It made the areas where his skin was agitated stand out in blotchy red - 

Adrien paused as one patch of red on his throat caught his eye and he ran his fingers over the mark.

That was definitely not irritation. Or at least, not the kind from not getting enough sleep or washing his face before bed.

And it’s placement over his pulse point sent something electrifying racing up his spine. Sending heat and pleasant shivers from his toes all the way up to his scalp, soothing the angry headache for the briefest of moments.

Something that felt like a memory. But one only his body could process; leaving his mind with broken fuzzy images - split seconds of movement across his skin that suddenly felt so vibrant that he couldn’t be sure he hadn’t crawled back into bed.

Adrien closed his eyes and willed those flashes back, clinging desperately to anything that would give him a clue. But the harder he pushed, the harder those memories avoided him.

“Uhhhh… Nino? What the hell did we do last night?”

At the sound of his panic, Nino came to the bathroom door with a raised brow before his eyes zeroed in on the same thing Adrien had.

The very clear and very permanent lipstick print that stained his skin over what was clearly a hickey.

“You’re asking me?” His best friend’s brows shot up incredulously, with an expression somewhere between wanting to murder him, and wanting to high-five him?

Emerald gaze met honey in the mirror, “Yes. Because we were together?” 

That seemed to stun his best friend into silence for a few long torturous moments as the DJ searched his face for something he wasn’t finding. “You… you really don’t remember anything do you?”

“No. Why?”

The silence stretched once more, and Adrien was starting to hate the tension building as Nino tried to find the right words to say, “Dude, you never showed.”

What?

“That can’t be right.”

Broad shoulders shrugged as Nino shook his head at the mystery shared between the two, “It can. And it is. Trust - there are a few people a little perturbed with you for ditching your own sending-off party. Myself included. But most of us were just worried that you’d been kidnapped by a rabid fan or something.” 

Never showed.

He’d never showed up to the party?

That explained so much and so very little at the same time. 

Why would he ditch his friends? Why would he choose not to show up when they were throwing a party for him?

That just wasn’t something he would do.

And neither was hooking up with some random stranger.

But, it was starting to look like that’s exactly what he’d done.

“Alright back it up for me. Start from the beginning. Maybe that will help jog my memory.”

“Yeah, alright.” He shrugged, motioning him to follow before plopping himself down in the armchair in the corner of the room, leaving Adrien to sit on the bed, “You and I left here together around -”

“But I thought you said I never showed?”

Nino gave him a pointed look at the interruption, “You asked me to start from the beginning. Let me talk, wouldja?”

Feeling adequately chastised, the blonde nodded, “Right. Sorry. Continue.”

“After checking in, you and I left together around six to go grab a bite to eat at a place on the way to the club. We had some food, a couple of drinks, and then left to go to meet up with everyone else at Chez Moune.”

Adrien nodded along as little bits and pieces of the story flashed in his mind. He remembered checking in at the hotel - how relieved he was to just be done with the meetings for a while. He remembered thinking compared to Nino, he felt a little overdressed since he was still wearing his nicer work clothes when they’d left.

“We weren’t even ten minutes from the club when I told you where we were headed and you told me you wanted to come back and change.”

Given his last train of thought, he figured he knew the answer already, but he asked anyway, “Why?”

Nino shrugged again, a roll of his eyes accompanying the sarcastic grin over his face, “You said something about not wanting to be ‘that asshole who shows up in the designer get-up’. But the others were going to start showing up soon, so you told me to head on over and that you’d make it a quick back and forth. You were so adamant about it. Even making a big deal about the mask.”

“Mask?”

“Yeah. For the club. It was a masquerade theme last night at Chez Moune and most of us were playing along. You were super into it. Are you serious, you don’t even remember that?”

It was coming back to him now, he remembered learning about the theme (despite Nino wanting to keep the venue a secret) and wanting to join in the fun. Not to mention, the idea of being able to go out and not be recognized for a night was more than a little appealing. He’d purchased the mask almost two weeks ago. 

And from the sounds of it, he must have made it back to the hotel and changed given the outfit he was wearing currently and the mask he’d found still tied to his face when he woke up.

“Alright, then what?”

“You messaged me that you were on your way back, and then, nothing. That was it. You never showed up.”

“So… between me coming back here to change, and trying to make my way back to the club, I went missing?”

"I guess, man. I’ve been looking for you all night.”

He certainly looked like he’d been running himself ragged all night - something that was beginning to settle on the blonde with heavy guilt for making his friend worry the way he had.

But he still couldn’t figure out why he would in the first place. It just wasn’t something he did. 

“I’m surprised you didn’t call the police.” Adrien chuckled with a shake of his head, trying to keep the conversation light, trying to avoid the guilt until he could piece together the mystery before them.

He was met with Nino’s deadpanned expression and tight lined lips.

“Oh my god, you didn’t.”

“Oh no, I totally did.” The wide-eyed expression would have been comical, if the DJ didn’t immediately follow the comment up with, “But they wouldn’t do anything because you’re an adult. Told me that if you were still missing by tonight, that I could file a missing person’s report, but given everything, they told me it was likely you just wanted to disappear, fucking assholes.” The DJ added that last bit under his breath, but years of magically enhanced senses in a super-suit left Adrien with better than average hearing.

And he couldn’t exactly fault the officers for their assumptions. 

Gabriel Agreste’s very public reveal as the identity behind Paris’s longest-standing terrorist Hawkmoth had been a major blow. To their family, to their name, to him. He couldn’t go anywhere these days without someone recognizing him, and not the same way they used to when his face was plastered on every billboard in the city. Most people didn’t say anything, but he knew what they were thinking. 

How could he live in the same house with that monster and not know?

It was a question he asked himself every single day since. 

There were more than a few people who actually thought he was working with his father. But through tireless efforts and a raving defense from the heroes of Paris, his own name had been cleared.

That didn’t keep people from speculating though.

Couldn’t blame them either - if the roles were reversed, he’d probably speculate too.

“Hey - I - I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Adrien blinked quickly, bringing himself back around and giving his friend a reassuring grin, “No - no, it’s fine. Really.” 

And it was. They were. There was no reason for Nino to apologize. He was just worried about him. Like any good best friend would be.

Truthfully, it warmed Adrien’s heart to have someone so concerned about how people treated him. 

Even a year later, Nino was still the rock and pillar of strength he had been the day Hawkmoth - Gabriel Agreste had been revealed and subsequently arrested. 

And for the second time, the blonde was having to fight back the guilt for having worried his friend unnecessarily after he’d done so much for him over the last year. Not to mention setting up the party they’d been on their way to in order to celebrate before he left town.

How the hell was he going to make that up to him?

What kind of friend did that make him to begin with?

Nino sighed loudly, “Don’t start with that look. I know what you’re thinking and you need to cut that shit out.”

“I don’t -”

The DJ leaned forward so that Adrien had no choice but to look him in the eye, “You’re over there freaking out about the party and trying to make it up to me.”

Okay, either Nino was a mind reader now or - 

“How could you possibly-?”

“I’ve gotten really good at reading you.”

Oh, okay. Cool. Now he was an open book.

“I’m not going to pretend like I’m not pissed, but it’s pretty clear something happened and I’m saving judgment until we figure out what got it?”

It took a moment, but Adrien nodded, knowing that his friend wasn’t nearly as angry as he was pretending to be.

“Cool. I’m going to let Alya know that I found you safe and-” he glanced up from having pulled his phone from his pants pocket, eyeing the hickey with a shake of his head and barely contained smirk, “mostly sound.”  

Oh, that was going to be a fun conversation, Adrien just knew it. 

If Nino was the rock, Alya was his protective sister/mom, and he was going to get hell from her. First in the form of yelling for making her worry, then in the form of teasing for being a ‘ladies man’ (her hypothetical words, not his).

It was the least he deserved for disappearing though. 

Which brought him back to the mystery at hand.

Why?

Where did he go?

“By the way, you may want to ignore your phone for a bit. You’re about to get an influx of messages from god knows how many people. I just messaged the whole class - sorry.” The DJ chuckled, looking not at all sorry.

Adrien pulled his phone back out and sure enough, there were notifications a mile long, and only a small handful of them from the last handful of minutes. Which meant that everything else was from the night before. People calling him like he’d been gone for days. Nearly 500 text messages. His social apps were lit up with notifications he was no longer receiving pings for. 

How had he not noticed last night?

How was he going to go through everything now?

The answer was simple, actually - that was a problem for future Adrien (which was probably what he’d likely thought to himself last night that even led to this mess in the first place).

Right now, though, he was suddenly aware of something he hadn’t considered before - he had his phone when he woke up.

So it had been in his possession through the night. 

Surely there’d be something to point him to what he’d been up to in the hours he’d been missing.

Hopefully, past Adrien hadn’t thought it would be a good idea to clear his app history.

A quick swipe revealed that, no he didn’t, and present Adrien breathed a sigh of relief. 

There were a number of apps still open in the background, listing from newest to oldest, and he swiped quickly through them  - a Google search window, his email, the camera, maps, all of which seemed promising, but only one seemed out of place.

Quickly finding the gallery app, Adrien immediately found that past Adrien -  whatever he’d been up to - was terrible with a camera. The first dozen or so (which would have been the last dozen pictures he would have taken last night) were either too dark or too blurry or just the palm of his hand.

The blonde was just about to give up on the pictures when he’d scrolled a little further down and found another dozen pictures that weren’t terrible. 

And he almost didn’t register what he was looking at.

Because he didn’t immediately recognize that this was his phone and there were a dozen or so pictures of a man who looked just like him but not like him at all.

Because the guy in these pictures looked like the happiest man on earth. 

“Nino…”

He hummed, barely looking up from his own phone. Completely unaware of the frantic uptick of Adrien’s heart rate as the blonde stared, open-mouthed at the device in his hands.

“I-I think I just figured out why I ditched the party.”

That had the darker man settling his gaze on him with a raised brow, waiting for him to continue.

“And how I got the lipstick on my neck. Or… at least, I really hope so.”

Oh god did he hope so.

“Are you going to just keep being cryptic over there or are you going to share with the rest of the class?”

Despite everything, Adrien couldn’t help the grin growing over his lips that split into a full-blown manically hopeful smile as he flipped the phone around to show his best friend.

How could he not?

How could anyone blame him for looking like lady luck had personally graced him with her presence.

Because if pictures were to be believed - she had.

Nino’s mouth fell open at the picture, one depicting the one and only Ladybug with her arm around Adrien (Chat Noir)’s shoulder, leaning in to place the softest of kisses on the masked hero’s cheek.

“I don’t know how, but I think I spent the night with Ladybug.”

[the-desolated-quill]

WHEEEEEEEEDON!!!! - Quill’s Scribbles

Yes. I’m back. I was aiming to stay away from Tumblr for at least a month so I could fully rejuvenate myself, but that was not to be thanks to Warner Bros. and DC’s latest kamikaze move. Joss Whedon is in talks to write, produce and direct a Batgirl movie.

For the record, I’m not happy about this.

So instead of the over the top, triumphant return I imagined in my head, I instead return to Tumblr like the grumpy caretaker who has to clean up the mess after a frat party.

Okay. Well I suppose the first question I have to ask is:

WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU THINKING DC?!

Joss Whedon?!... JOSS WHEDON?!?! You can’t be serious!!!

But hold on, I can hear you saying. Joss Whedon is a self proclaimed feminist writer. Why would there be an issue? Well because there’s a world of fucking difference between saying you’re a feminist and actually being a feminist.

For what it’s worth, I don’t think Joss Whedon is a bad person. He seems to mean well and I’m sure his attempts at writing strong female characters and tackling women’s issues are well intentioned. I believe that he believes he’s a feminist. The problem is... well... his female characters.

We all remember Buffy The Vampire Slayer, right? It recently celebrated its 20th anniversary and at the time it was considered a massive step forward for women on television. Nowadays, while it still has a strong cult following, it isn’t held in quite as high regard. The reason for this is because there are elements to Buffy that were overlooked at the time, but are now considered extremely problematic or just downright offensive. Buffy does succumb to a lot of sexist tropes, most notably the women in refrigerator trope (where a woman’s suffering is used to progress the male character’s storyline), as well as the frequent ways sexual freedom or promiscuity is often punished in the show and the way Whedon’s writing seems to contribute to rape culture. There’s one instance where the gang-rape and murder of a minor character portrays two of its participants in a sympathetic light, and then there’s of course the notorious moment where Spike tries to rape Buffy, after having practically stalked her for two seasons, only for the act to bring them closer together and contribute to Spike’s redemption arc.

Criticism has also been extended to some of Whedon’s other projects. Firefly has been criticised for its casual racism and cultural appropriation, Dollhouse has been repeatedly criticised as being mysogonistic due to its frequent issues with consent and scenes of abuse and violence against women, and of course there’s Avengers: Age Of Ultron. After having done a surprisingly decent job in the previous Avengers movie to make Black Widow more than just a female love interest or femme fatale, in a bizarre turn Whedon decided to undo all of that by having Black Widow sporadically fall in love with the Hulk (despite the two not sharing any kind of romantic chemistry in previous instalments) in a narrative that ultimately removed any kind of independence or free agency the character once had.

For a more in-depth look into the problematic elements of Joss Whedon’s writing, check out this article from The Mary Sue entitled ‘Reconsidering the Feminism of Joss Whedon’. It’s a very good read :)

While Joss Whedon can produce some good work, his attitude regarding his female characters is questionable at best. Like I said, I believe that he believes he’s a feminist. The problem is his brand of feminism seems to be permanently stuck in the 90s. His stubborn refusal to accept fault and move with the times has drawn a lot of criticism, which becomes more and more vocal with every passing year. Just to be clear, those sexist elements have always been present in his writing. The only thing that’s changed is social attitudes. In the past, people were willing to overlook the problems with Buffy because it was rare to see a show with a kickass female lead back then. Nowadays people aren’t quite so willing to compromise anymore. There’s a demand for fully realised, three dimensional female leads that are treated with the same care and respect as the male protagonists. This is why Jessica Jones and Agent Carter were so heavily praised, why the upcoming Wonder Woman movie is being so heavily scrutinised, why people are so desperate to see a Black Widow movie and why everybody throws a hissy fit every time Marvel find yet another excuse to delay the Captain Marvel movie (seriously, who gives a fuck about an Ant-Man sequel?! I think we’ll survive without one). People want female characters and they want them done right.

So, considering the sexist elements that seem to keep reoccurring in Whedon’s writing, I think him helming a Batgirl movie is a downright terrible idea. Especially considering all the baggage and controversy that has surrounded the character for decades now. What’s this Batgirl movie going to entail? From The Killing Joke movie to The Lego Batman Movie, there seems to be a disturbing trend of romantically pairing up Batgirl with Batman (in the case of The Killing Joke in particular, to the detriment of her character. So Barbara Gordon didn’t become Batgirl because of her altruism or her desire to emulate her idol. It’s so she could have sex with Batman. Bite me). Look me in the eyes and tell me Joss Whedon wouldn’t follow that trend too (and in case you didn’t catch that, NOBODY wants to see Batman/Batgirl rumpy-pumpy. It’s never been canon and it’s fucking creepy. Stop it.). And then there’s the whole paralysis storyline. Can we trust Joss Whedon to treat that with respect? It’s not as if the comics did. The whole Oracle thing wasn’t exactly ideal. It was merely damage control after DC treated the character in such a disrespectful way in The Killing Joke (I believe the editor’s exact words were ‘Yeah, okay. Cripple the bitch.’). A strong female character reduced to a woman in a refrigerator for Batman, the male protagonist. Gee, doesn’t that sound familiar?

So why are WB and DC even considering Joss Whedon in the first place? I don’t know, but I can hazard a guess...

Yep. The almighty dollar.

I’ve already criticised the DCEU for shifting away from its original creator-controlled vision in favour of a more Marvel style business model, where you just churn out a bunch of films on an assembly line and see what sticks (in fact I’d go as far to say that DC’s current business model is actually worse than Marvel’s. Credit where it’s due, at least Marvel wait for the first movie to come out before announcing its ten trillion sequels and spin-offs), and it looks like Joss Whedon’s potential appointment could represent the final stage in the DCEU’s Marvel-fication. Its Marvel-lisation. Its Marvel-morphosis. (I’ve got pages of these. I could go on). Let’s not forget that Joss Whedon was originally supposed to write and direct the Wonder Woman movie before that fell through. Why the change of heart? 

Well the fact that he made a boatload of money for Marvel with his Avengers movies might have something to do with it. And that’s the problem. Whedon is being considered for Batgirl for the same reasons why Mel Gibson is/was(?) being considered for Suicide Squad 2 and why David Ayer has been chosen to direct a Gotham City Sirens movie. Despite Mel Gibson’s less than desirable personality traits, WB and DC have sensed a changing tide of opinion and decided to try and take advantage of it. And with David Ayer it’s because he’s already made them a shit-ton of money with Suicide Squad and reckon he can do it again, even though David Ayer is so obviously the wrong person to direct a Gotham City Sirens movie considering one of the many criticisms that people had with Suicide Squad is how abhorrently sexist it is. Whether Joss Whedon is right or wrong for the material he’s adapting doesn’t factor into it. At this point, it couldn’t be any clearer to me that any artistic integrity WB and DC once had has officially been chucked away in favour of box office earnings. Welcome to the MCU Mark II everyone!

You know it’s kind of ironic me talking about Joss Whedon and David Ayer, what with Wonder Woman coming out in a couple of months. Considering what a feminist icon Wonder Woman is, it’s funny that WB and DC don’t seem to be embracing the concept. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying men can’t write and direct female led movies. But considering how difficult it is for women to break into this industry, it would be nice if DC could at least consider them. Wonder Woman could and should be ushering in a new era for both superhero movies and women in film, both in front and behind the camera. But what with the potential appointment of Joss Whedon and the reappointment of David Ayer, it seems Wonder Woman is tragically just going to be a temporary blip.

[sasusakufestival]

Samsara

Summary: Sakura’s words die in her throat as the man’s eyes shoot open, and the coldest red irises she has ever seen meet hers. She is hit by a wave of terrifying certainty about two things right then – that she knows these eyes better than any other and that, if he wanted to, this man could stop her heart with just a look. [SasuSaku Festival 2017 – Day 7 – Prompt: “The Past”]

Disclaimer: This story utilizes characters, situations and premises that are copyright Masashi Kishimoto, Shueisha, Shonen Jump and Viz Media. No infringement on their respective copyrights pertaining to episodes, novelizations, comics or short stories is intended by the author in any way, shape or form. This fan oriented story is written solely for the author’s own amusement and the entertainment of the readers. It is not for profit. Any resemblance to real organizations, institutions, products or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All fiction, plot and Original Characters with the exception of those introduced in the books, manga, video games, novelizations and anime, are the sole creation of KuriQuinn and using them without permission is considered rude, in bad-taste and will reflect seriously on your credibility as a writer. You will be squished by a Susanoo wielding demi god if you are found plagiarizing.

Warning:Spoilersfor pretty much everything up to NarutoGaiden.

Canon-Compliance: Takes place during the Blank Period.

Fanon-Compliance: Takes place several years before An Inch ofGold and Unplanned.

AN: Better late than never! You guys can decide for yourselves how much if this short series is something that could have happened, and how much of is my personal head canon. Also, I kind of went to town with the SasuSaku bits here, because I firmly believe that they have a loving and active married life.

As a medic, Sakura is probably more prepared for the various symptoms of pregnancy than the average woman. She has studied the theory, administered prenatal and postnatal care, and has even delivered a few babies. At first it was only under the watchful eye of her mentor, but since she and Sasuke have been travelling to more remote villages, it’s an occupational hazard.

Her first trimester is about what she expects – it’s actually easier.

Morning sickness isn’t as bad as she worried it would be – in fact it’s not so much morning sickness as random-moments-in-the-day-sickness. Even then, it’s more gentle queasiness than anything else. There are only two mornings she spends with her face buried in a nearby bush, while Sasuke holds back her hair.

There are a few of her favorite foods that she can’t even think about without feeling nauseous. Still others cause her bizarre, desperate cravings she never experienced before. (Tomatoes! She can’t get enough tomatoes!) And she has to pee a lot more often, which Sasuke is equal parts amused and irritated by depending on how much it delays their travel plans.

And good gods, she thought she was done getting pimples!

But what she wasn’t expecting were the dreams.

From her studies and conversations with other expectant mothers, she’s come to anticipate the nonsensical, the silly or even highly sexual. What she ends up experiencing within days of confirming her condition is bleak, eerie and a little depressing.

In the beginning, her dreams have a reoccurring theme.

Whenever she closes her eyes, she finds herself walking along a beach. The tide is always out, leaving a vast and barren expanse of sand and shallow pools of water. The sky is always grey and foreboding, bracketed by cliffs in the distance. The detail in this place is staggering, despite the fact she’s never spent much time on this seashore.

Or any seashore, really.

Konoha is landlocked, and even her experiences during the war didn’t give her much time to enjoy the coastline. Travelling with Sasuke, they have occasionally been to places like Kumo where beaches are more common, but never with express recreational purpose.

If there had been, she would never choose such a grey and dismal one as the one that plagues her unconscious.

Despite this, the barren shore of her dreams feels as familiar and beloved to her as the forests and valleys of Konoha. For whatever reason, she experiences a sense of utter safety during her dreamlike wanderings, which leaves her disconcerted and confused upon waking.

The pattern continues over several nights without change, until their return journey from Tsuki. That night, they have no choice but to bed down in a forest cave to avoid an incoming storm.

Since she told Sasuke of her pregnancy, he isn’t as keen on sleeping outside as much. Sakura has assured him that at this point it really doesn’t matter where they sleep, but he’s been adamant. It’s only when there is absolutely no other option that they sleep outside.

(She’s trying not to find his overprotectiveness endearing, but she’d be lying if she didn’t say she’s been waiting her entire life for this.)

In spite of their protective wards, Sasuke insists on taking the first watch – which they both know means he doesn’t actually intend to sleep that night – and Sakura is too tired to argue.

She expects this to lead to utterly dreamless sleep, and yet with almost no transition, she is back on the dream beach.

Only there is something different this time.

眠り

A dark form lingers on the sand dunes of the horizon. She can’t make out exactly what the shape is, but as she gets closer, she realises it’s a human being.

“Hey!” she calls. “Are you alright?”

She begins to run, struggling through the unstable and damp sand, automatically reaching for her medical kit – only to discover it’s not there. She doesn’t let this deter her, however, and after what seems like forever she skids to a stop in front of the person.

It’s a man, she realises, based on the dimensions of the body, and he’s badly injured.

He is face-down and judging from the lack of movement, not breathing; when she reaches out to touch clammy, swollen skin and checks his pulse, she doesn’t find one. The parts of his epidermis not covered by a waterlogged white robe are a mass of second and third degree burns, crisscrossing themselves like the angry red roots of a tree. She’s seen this before, in electrocution victims, except from what she can perceive, there are no exit or entrance wounds on his body.

As if it was just passing across the surface of his skin.

Or…or channelled through his chakra points.

A pit forms in her stomach at this, and she intends to reach out and channel her own chakra into the poor man, hoping to boost his heart and lungs back to working order.

But that doesn’t happen.

Her hands keep probing the man for signs of life, and when she concentrates, she can’t feel any of her chakra.

Nothing.

What the…?

She considers her hands in confusion, and belatedly realises that they don’t look like hers. These are paler and more delicate, with none of her scars from training.

And no telltale glow of healing energy.

No…!

The horror at being stripped of the ability to save this man hits her like a punch to the gut, but rather than dwell on it, she shoves it out of her mind. She might still have a chance to save him, even if she can’t do it the faster way!

Her body seems to be cooperating with this, at least. Firmly but gently, she turns him around, intending to start compressions to his heart –

Only to recoil in shock.

Beneath the swollen, vein-scarred skin, is Sasuke.

夢

Sakura wakes suddenly, her entire body jerking her into consciousness. Sweat drips from her forehead, and she feels as if she has been running.

“Are you alright?”

Her husband is a featureless shadow in the dark.

“You were on a beach,” she whispers without preamble, her voice shaking. “You were unconscious, and I couldn't…I wanted to heal you, but I couldn’t do it, and then I turned you around and I think you were dead, but there was no…I couldn't…”

“It was a dream,” Sasuke assures her. When her body remains stiff and agitated, though, he reaches out and cups her face in his hand, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone.

Sakura sighs, leaning into his touch, and the rigidity of her spine eases somewhat. “I know it was. It was just…very real.”

“Your senses are heightened right now,” he informs her quietly. “Your mind is likely drawing much more on sense-memory.”

“I know that,” she protests, smirking slightly at the fact Sasuke is quoting information he’s read from a pregnancy book she picked up in the last semi-inhabited village. She never saw him read it, but she remembers that exact sentence.

Not interested in baby-books my ass, you big goofball!

“And you also know that I’m fine,” Sasuke continues, and she can hear the frown in his voice. She suspects he has noticed her expression. “As are you.”

“Other than being married to a know-it-all, I’m wonderful,” she mumbles, curling up in front of him.

“Hm.”

She feels his fingers in her hair, moving back and forth in a comforting rhythm. Sleep creeps up on her, heralded by the calming sensation of fingertips brushing against her skull –

Sakura jerks back to full consciousness.

“Wait!”

He freezes. “What?”

“I have to pee,” she tells him, navigating away from him.

“Of course you do,” he sighs, letting go of her.

When she finally gets back, Sasuke has fallen asleep. She suspects he just meant to close his eyes for a second, but then he’s been going without sleep more often these days. She worries he intends to keep up the trend until they are safely back in Konoha. For this reason alone she chooses not to wake him.

The wards will be enough…

She reclaims her spot beside him, burrowing in close and shifting so that her back is fitted against his chest. In his sleep, he drapes his arm across her waist, holding her close, and Sakura smiles into the darkness.

He used to do this when they were kids, too, though back then he would rather swallow kunai than admit to it.

Sometimes on away missions, their genin squd would have to sleep outside, too. Kakashi would take first watch – like Sasuke does now, having no intention of waking any of them to take the second – and the three of them would end up huddled together like puppies. They were all usually so exhausted that no one had the energy to complain about sleeping arrangements. Sakura would end up sandwiched between the two boys to minimize any bloodshed, with Naruto muttering in his sleep on one side, while Sasuke curled protectively into himself on the other.

But sometimes, very rarely, he would end up bracketed against her, arm slung over her hips and breathing against the back of her neck.

She never slept well those nights, too shocked and too pleased to do anything but marvel at being so close to him. He’d wake before everyone else, and she’d feel him recoil as if burned, and then his warmth would be gone.

She never mentioned it in waking hours either, because she expected him to be embarrassed. He never said anything either, even though he would have known she was awake. And Kakashi would look knowing beneath his mask, but act like he hadn’t noticed any of it at all.

Now, though, she has no trouble falling back to sleep within Sasuke’s embrace, and thankfully, there are no more dreams that night. And when the first rays of sunshine peek into their shelter the next morning, instead of pretending he hasn’t spent the night wrapped around her, Sasuke hides his face in her shoulder and determinedly ignores her attempts to coax him to get up.

Until she cheats a little, ducking under their covers and using lips and tongue in her most convincing argument. The sound of his strangled cries and panted curses echoing off the damp walls of the cave are completely worth the attempted reproachful look he gives her afterward.

“We’re not supposed to be drawing attention to ourselves,” he reminds her.

“Then you should learn to be quieter,” she retorts, wiping her mouth. When he growls and snatches at her, trying to pull her down beneath him, she dances out of his way and singsongs, “Come on, we’re going to be la-a-te.”

The rest of the morning progresses in the usual fashion, with them trekking through the forest to their next destination. It’s quiet, which is the norm – she and Sasuke don’t always talk while they travel, existing in silence more out of a perfect dynamic of companionship than over need to avoid possible threats. It’s a time for reflection, or just being together.

When she was younger, the silence would have driven her crazy, but now she is more comfortable in it.

Although today, her usually peaceful thoughts are clouded by analysing that dream she had. It’s bothering at her, hanging on where most would retreat to her subconscious immediately. She supposes it’s because she was reminded of her helplessness, a state she has actively avoided since she was a teenager.

If Sasuke notices her preoccupation, he says nothing. Until she volunteers the information he won’t pry, and she doesn’t want to say something because it sounds ridiculous in her head, let alone out loud.

They just make it to the overnight ferry, which it turns out is not helpful to her queasy stomach. She spends most of the voyage heaving over the side of the boat, or curled in a foetal position in their cabin. Only as their nearing their destination does her exhaustion finally allow her to give in to sleep.

眠り

She finds herself back on the beach, kneeling in front of an unconscious Sasuke.

Only it’s not Sasuke, she realises in relief. His hair is lighter, despite being so thoroughly soaked, and much longer. And his features are more delicate, sort of like how she remembers his brother’s being, just without such defined cheekbones.

Her healer’s instincts have already prompted her hands to reach forward and check for signs of life. He isn’t breathing and she can’t detect a heartbeat. Judging from the burns and bruises, she’d say he’s suffered both electrocution and massive trauma, as if thousands of fists careened into him.

For a split second she goes to heal him before remembering that here – wherever here is – she has no such ability. Swearing, she rearranges his body so that he is supine on his back, and prepares to restart his heart manually.

At least…she thinks she’s the one decides to do that. The body she inhabits in this dream world seems to have a mind of its own.

Pressing the heel of her hand on the centre of his chest, she begins to count out loud, watching his chest with each compression. After a minute or so, she leans down to check his airway, tilting his head back and lifting his chin.

There is still no indication of breathing, and she pinches his nose closed, covering his mouth with hers and breathing in to him. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees his chest rise and feels her hopes rise. That’s good, at least, no punctures or obstructions.

But when she pulls away, he doesn’t continue on his own.

Swearing, she restarts the compressions.

“Don't…you…die…” she orders him with each downward press.

You're…not…him…but…I…won't…let… you! Sha…na…ro!

The cycle of compressions and breathing for him continues almost without end. It goes far past the point she would have stopped for anyone else, but she can’t take the chance. If this person is anything like Sasuke, he will live. He has to live.

As she pulls away from his lips once more, preparing to push down on his chest, the stranger’s body seizes and his mouth opens in a gasp.

“Oh, thank goodness!” she cries, sitting back on her thighs to give him room. “You’re alright…take it easy, just try to breath, okay? You had me scared for a –”

Sakura’s words die in her throat as the man’s eyes shoot open, and the coldest red irises she has ever seen meet hers. She is hit by a wave of terrifying certainty about two things right then – that she knows these eyes better than any other and that, if he wanted to, this man could stop her heart with just a look.

夢

She jolts awake with a cry of surprise.

“What? What’s wrong?!”

Sasuke is kneeling beside her, his hand on her arm and staring down at her with an expression of thunderous concern.

“It was you,” she gasps, thoughts colliding too quickly in her brain to make sense. Her words are coming out jumbled. “It was you, but it wasn’t you, but it was your eyes. And you were unconscious, but I saved you, I think, but it was…it was like that day, and I though you…I thought he was going to…”

“Slow down,” Sasuke instructs her. “Start from the beginning.”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath, coaching herself to remain calm, and carefully relays everything. She tells him about the strange dreams she’s been having, how they were recurring at first but now somehow seem…

“Continuous?” he supplies.

She nods, because there’s no other way to put it. “I don’t know what this means.”

Sasuke frowns.

“I want you to tell me if this happens again,” he tells her finally.

“How would that help?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” he replies. “But I would feel better knowing what you know.”

She knows her husband doesn’t like the idea of an obstacle or opponent that he can’t fight. Perhaps he thinks the more information he can get from her dreams, the more likely he’ll be to help her. She also knows that he is compulsive about these things, and will fixate over it until there is some kind of resolution – which there may not be.

She offers him a bright smile. “I’m sure it’s nothing. It’s just two dreams, I’m getting ahead of myself. Making something of nothing, the way I sometimes do. I’ll be fine.”

Sasuke frowns like he doesn’t completely believe her, but nods stiffly.

And it seems that she’s right, anyhow. The next few nights, her dreams are once again no more than fleeting impressions. She experiences imprints of faces, moments in time, but no startling interactions with the man whose Sharingan is the exact copy of her husband’s.

It seems her subconscious has backed off a little, and she’s set to shrug it off as strange pregnancy related dreams after all.

But then it starts happening again.

眠り

The man with Sasuke’s face – But different. It’s different! – is unable to move or speak, despite his horrible eyes. In fact, they fade into a dull black almost the moment she is conscious of being back in her dream, suggesting he is far to weakened to do anything.

Still, he watches her distrustfully, as if expecting her to reach out and smother him or something.

“I’m here to help you,” she tells him quietly, hating the warble in her voice. Or the fact her voice is somehow softer than it should be. “You don’t have to worry, alright? I’m here for you.”

If possible, he eyes her with more distrust.

If you think glaring at me is going to scare me off, you’ve got another thing coming to you, I’ve seen much worse.

Oddly enough, the picture that immediately comes to mind is not her husband’s chilling stare, but a stranger’s face twisted into a snarl. The face is utterly nondescript, but the ugly rage there makes her body shiver reflexively.

There’s no time to contemplate what that means, not with a patient to help.

Her eyes rove over his body, taking in the strange – but familiar! – high-collared white robe, checking symptoms and making a diagnosis in her head.

Chakra depletion and acute over exhaustion. Whatever happened to him, he completely weakened himself to the point of handicap.

She has no idea how she’s supposed to help him without her healing abilities, and with hands that don’t necessarily do as she wants. It seems this girl, whoever she is, has some rudimentary healing skills – maybe something passed down from a family member – but it’s not nearly enough to heal her mystery patient now. Glancing around the beach, she doesn’t see anything that could be used as an elixir or healing balm. She’s going to have to venture beyond the shoreline, to see if there’s a forest or field nearby.

A tiny, nagging thought at the back of her mind tells her to run away. Without her abilities, she would not be able to stand against him if her assessment of his condition is wrong. Whoever this man is, he’s dangerous.

That doesn’t matter. I’m a medic, I have to help my patient…somehow.

Doing so on the shore is going to be difficult. She briefly entertains the idea of carrying him to somewhere more safe – but as she quickly discovers, she has no strength to do so. The man is tall and under normal circumstances probably heavy – as waterlogged deadweight, he’s even worse.

Besides, carrying him anywhere might attract attention, and that could be dangerous for both of them. Wherever they are now, this place is foreign to her – possibly to him as well. She needs to think of something, and soon.

Something at the back of her mind tells her it would be very bad indeed if either of them were found here.

夢

Sakura awakens the next morning, frowning at the ceiling of their temporary quarters, mind running through the calculations needed for a woman of average strength to carefully move an injured man the size and weight of her husband.

And possibly to look into lucid dreaming techniques, because the idea of being a paralysed watcher in her own mind is getting annoying.

Once she figures it out the first problem, she lingers quietly, puzzling out where she’s seen the man’s garments before. She and Sasuke have travelled so widely, and in such short time, that they’ve seen any number of strange clothing styles. Perhaps her memories supplied it?

She’s on the verge of an answer when she notices a hand snaking under the waistband of her pants.

“Oh, you think you’re being sneaky, do you?” she challenges playfully, and then giggles when long fingers ease between her legs.

All thoughts of her subconscious patient disappear as she finds something much nicer to focus on.

眠り

More dreams follow, night after night, but by now she expects them.

Sometimes she is not by her mystery patient’s side, instead crawling through a wooded area on hand hands and knees, gathering herbs and berries in her apron. Sometimes she is at a river, filling water skins and trying – unsuccessfully – to catch fish with nothing but her hands.

Other time she is with him, leaning devotedly beside him, pressing freshwater between his lips and crushing food into manageable portions. He accepts her help – not like he has a choice not to – but the whole while, he glares at her resentfully. Sometimes, when she does something he doesn’t like, he makes a noise like a growl low in his throat.

He is still unable to speak, and so she can’t ask him for his name.

Some procedures she finds herself researching during waking hours, poring through the few medical scrolls she’s brought with her or asking local healers about their traditional remedies. It takes every inch of her concentration in her dreams to effect even the slightest chance, such as picking a certain herb or retaking his blood-pressure.

In waking hours, Sasuke remains ignorant to her nightly vigil and although she isn’t exactly hiding this from him, she’s glad for it. He would worry needlessly, and though he hides it well, he’s already anxious. So when he asks her about her dreams, she tells him nothing new has happened.

Again. It’s not really a lie, it’s just…not completely true.

But she doesn’t think he’d take kindly to know she’s so worried about a figment of her imagination, especially as the sour-faced man in her beach dreamscape has started to grow on her.

“I hope you’re not attached to your hair,” she tells her invalid one day – night? – as she finally disparages of the snarled, wet ranks splayed beside him. “It’s beginning to attract bugs. And trust me, I know from experience how hard it is to get rid of them once you have them.”

His eyes narrow slightly, but she takes his lack of growls as permission, and carefully hacks off the hair at shoulder length.

“There, not so bad if I do say myself. But then again, I’ve had a lot of practise. I’ve had to do it on my own a few times. ”

She’s referring to her fastidious tendency to keep her hair cut while they travel, but that’s not the image that comes to mind. Instead she has visions of a cool, dark room, trembling fingers and a mirror balanced in front of her while she tries to even out the layers.

This happens sometimes. Images and ideas coming to her as she works on him. She can never make sense of them and passes them off as quirks of her psyche.

Or going batty from the stillness.

Her patient’s constant quiet reminds her starkly of how Sasuke was when they were children. While she is now close enough to her husband that she finds their silences companionable, this person before her is a different story. The prolonged hush is driving her crazy, and she finds herself falling back on childhood habits of rambling.

Not just rambling, actually. The things that come out of her mouth make her head spin. They are the utterly confusing, nonsensical words that characterise dreams – things that make perfect sense to her now, but which she knows will mean nothing to her upon waking.

“I bet you must think I don’t have a life or something,” she tells once, adjusting the small brush fire she’s started beside them. The wood she chose doesn’t give off much smoke, but the heat is comforting to her – and it keeps his body heat constant. “I guess you’d be right. Where I’m from, I’m not much more than an afterthought. My father – well, he’s important, but my mother, she was a lesser wife –”

She frowns at this, because that’s not right at all, and yet the story falls from her tongue with the utter conviction of truth.

“ – that told everyone I was going to be a boy. When I wasn’t, my father wasn’t happy. He had her put to death and it’s only because the priests said he’s be cursed if he spilled his own blood that I wasn’t too.”

The story makes her stomach clench, her first-hand anger mingling with second-hand sadness. Something is using her mouth to speak for it, and she doesn’t like it.

“Everyone says I look just like my mother, and that’s why my father doesn’t care for me very much,” she goes on matter-of-factly. “My older sister, though, he loves her. I…I would love her too, I think, if she let me.” She ducks her head, feeling embarrassed about admitting to this. It feels like she never said this out loud before. “But she so busy, she doesn’t have time. Father has sent for so many tutors and instructors for her that she’s never around. See, she’s the one who is going to make an advantageous marriage one day and make our country strong again. So, she has to be accomplished. She says it’s a waste of time, because she’s so beautiful, and I think in this case she’s right. Men take one look at her and fall in love right away.”

She sighs wistfully, and the tiniest bit of jealousy seeps into her words.

“She has everything. I wish…I wish I could just have…” She trails off and shakes her head. “Never mind. It’s not important. And all of this must be boring you, right?”

She smiles gently down at her patient, and is surprised to find that he has been listening to her this whole time with an intent expression. In fact, unless she’s much mistaken, there is something else buried in the lines of his face.

It takes her a moment to realise that it’s empathy.

夢

“Have you ever dreamed about being another person?” Sakura asks, glancing up from the trashy romance novel she’s already read three times. It’s utterly failed in its job of keeping her mind off her dreams, especially given this latest development where she’s apparently made up an entire other life for herself.

She decides to give up on it.

It’s a rare moment of downtime, not spent travelling or scouring villages for information about local disturbances. Across the clearing, Sasuke is carefully oiling and cleaning his katana, mouth set and brows drawn together in concentration.

“Sasuke?”

“Hm?”

“I asked, have you ever dreamed of being someone else? I mean, from the perspective of someone that wasn’t you,” she clarifies.

“No.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “Never?”

“Most of my dreams are memories. And I am always myself,” he responds absently.

“Oh.”

She spares a brief second to reflect on the sad truth in that – with a life like Sasuke’s, she doubts his subconscious has ever been a retreat from reality – and tries to go back to her book.

But the text is blurring together, her already vague interest gone, and she puts it down.

“I’m bored. Can we go for a walk or something?”

“We walk everyday.”

“I know that, but it’s usually to get from Point A to Point B. I meant, let’s just go for a stroll. Enjoy nature. Autumn’s so pretty, and we won’t get to enjoy ourselves so much once winter comes. And we won’t have a lot of time alone, just the two of us, come spring.”

“Hm. Fine, let me finish this.”

“I was also thinking of maybe stopping in the capital after all. They’ve got a library there, and I want to look a few things up. I know you hate big towns, but it’ll only take a few days.”

“Mm-hm.”

Sakura frowns at him, trying to discern whether he’s seriously paying attention to her or not. When he continues to wipe invisible detritus from the blade of his sword, she knows none of what they’ve just discussed has penetrated whatever thoughtful funk he’s trapped himself in.

Time for a distraction, then.

With quick movements, she stands and stretches. When he doesn’t seem to notice, she goes on to unbutton the clasps of her tunic, then her bra, and pulls them both over her head.

“I think my breasts have gotten bigger since I’ve been pregnant,” she says, pitching her voice a little louder than before. “What do you think?”

He doesn’t so much as glance up. “Maybe.”

“Excuse me if I don’t trust your assessment, you’re not even looking at me.”

Sasuke lets out an annoyed sigh and finally shoots her a brief glance, and goes back to work. “Yes, you’re bigger.”

Sakura raises an eyebrow at this, mentally counting down the seconds, and is rewarded when the rag in his hand suddenly drops and he slowly looks up again, utterly bemused.

There we go.

Still, she pretends not to notice and cranes around to examine her backside as well. “I think I’m bigger down there, too. We have a measuring tape in our kit somewhere, right? I’m going to find out, since there’s nothing else to do and you're so busy.”

She turns away, reaching toward their bags.

There’s a clatter of metal on earth and the rustle of a cloak, and then an arm seizes her around the waist from behind.

“You don’t have to resort to obvious tricks to get my attention,” he murmurs quietly in her ear, and she shivers at the feel of his breath upon the skin beneath her ear.

“Apparently I do,” she teases. “Besides, my tricks didn’t ever work when we were younger. I consider this back pay.”

“So you traffic in sexual favours now?”

“Who said anything about sexual favours?” she says innocently. “I’m just finding ways to occupy myself while you’re clearly uninterest –”

“You have always been a horrible liar,” he tells her, and proceeds to help divest her of the rest of her clothing.

眠り

Her dreams return to the murky, fleeting glimpses in the next few nights, and for a long time she barely interacts with her mysterious patient. Sometimes she still dreams of scouring the woods for things to help him, but more and more often she begins to see darker, more troubling things.

Sometimes her slumber is assaulted by the downright upsetting.

On occasion, she will find herself cold, shivering convulsively in a drafty room. She is exhausted, but doesn’t sleep, eyes focussed on the moon as she waits for morning to come. Other times – and this is even more troubling – she feels the familiar impact of fists against her face, a man’s voice demanding where she wanders off to everyday. She cowers, tears and blood streaming down her face, insisting she doesn’t go anywhere, and hoping the lie isn’t detectable.

These brief glimpses always leave Sakura annoyed upon waking, the sense of helplessness like an acrid taste at the back of her mouth. If she spends those mornings doggedly running through her taijutsu forms (Sasuke refuses to spar with her since she’s been pregnant) or crushing boulders to dust, that’s no body’s business but her own.

It seems this is to be her only outlet, too, because in her dreams she is maddeningly placid.

The next time she finds herself back with her mysterious patient, she smiles through the bruises on her face and pretends like she isn’t in pain every time she moves. She knows it’s not convincing – this man is as observant as Sasuke – but given his reticence (real or enforced by his handicap), she doubts he’ll remark on it.

Which is why she nearly has a heart attack when a dry, rasping voice breaks the usual silence.

“Where did you get those bruises?”

She actually physically jolts, looking around to see if someone has been watching them. It takes an absurdly long time to realise that her mystery patient was the one to speak.

“Did you just…?” she stares down at him in awe.

He is glaring at her again, ostensibly furious; if she knows that look as well she does, she gets the sense he’s angrier at himself for speaking than over the state of her face.

“Are you able to speak?” she asks him, heart rising hopefully, thinking that perhaps now some questions can be answers.

But he simply turns his head to one side. “Tch.”

She can’t help smile at that. She definitely knows this type of behaviour well.

“I guess you used up all your strength to ask me that, huh?” she muses lightly. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m really clumsy, always walking into things. I feel down the stairs this morning.” She chuckles nervously. “There’s a reason no one wants to teach me the shamisen. I’d probably put someone’s eye out!”

But he exudes an aura of disinterest now, and she sighs.

She should have asked for his name.

Their silent dynamic continues across montages that dance across her sleeping mind. Of her gently rubbing healing ointments into his skin, bringing him clothing to replace his maddeningly familiar robes. She continues to experience the puzzling, violence-fueled scenes as well.

Someone pulling her hair, a high, mocking laugh from a beautiful, ivory skinned woman. Older Sister, her mind supplies. Huddling on the floor, clutching her ribs as someone kicks her, displeased once more by something she has done or failed to do. Father.

She screams at herself to stand up defend herself, but her body never listens. By the time she manages to raise a hand up to block a blow, it is too late and she feels her ribs break.

Time passes, and more often she finds herself lying in a barren room, people tending to her and speaking in low whispers. She gets the sense she is recovering from something – injury, most likely – but that knowledge fails to overtake the fervent sense of restlessness she feels.

If she’s injured and bedridden, who is caring for her patient?

It feels like an eternity before she dreams of the beach again, and a stark relief hits her the day she finds herself wandering on that damp sandbar again.

Until she makes to the spot on the shore where she has been tending to her mystery invalid, only to find he is not there.

Shock and disbelief fill her, competing with guilt that her injury kept him from checking on him. What if some wild animal found its way here and dragged him off? Or worse, what if someone found him here, thought he was a foreign spy, and took him away?

Or worse.

I have to find him!

She begins making a catalogue of possible places he can be, turns around to head toward the forest where she often sought medicinal herbs, and freezes.

Black eyes glare down at her, a sinister six-pointed red star in their centre, paralysing in their intensity. Her jaw drops in shock, but before she can say anything, he reaches out and grabs her by the throat.

“Nn-gh!”

She clutches feebly at his hand, nails scrabbling uselessly against his skin as he lifts her off the ground. Her feet dangle uselessly in the air and her lungs constrict in their need for air. Confusion and dismay fill her.

“W-w-why?” she chokes out, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“I am not weak,” he tells her coldly, his voice no longer a rasp but still low enough to make her shiver. “I did not ask for you help, and I owe you nothing.”

She whimpers.

“Know that your death would mean very little to me,” he goes on, tightening his grasp on her. Those horrible eyes gleam, and she knows that she’s about to die.

Oddly enough, instead of fear, a sense of relief overtakes her. At least here and now, it will be swift, unlike the life she spends her days trying to escape from. If that’s the case, she knows she can be brave for a few moments longer.

She musters up a smile for him, unable to speak any longer, but hoping it conveys her understanding and even that she forgives him for this.

His hand tightens again and she prepares for the end.

Only to suddenly find herself in a heap on the floor, her airway miraculously free again.

Shaking off the dizziness that comes from breathing again, she looks up to see that he is now walking away from her. It takes a little longer for her to understand that she has been spared. She doesn’t know if she is more relieved or disappointed.

“W-wait…” she whispers, her vocal chords aching from nearly being crushed. “Why…what…who are you?”

He pauses, but does not turn around, and she thinks maybe he might kill her after all. But then,

“I am called Indra,” he tells her quietly, his voice barely audible over the din of distant waves.

And then a flash of blue lightning encompasses him, and he is gone.

つづく

To be continued in another prompt :)

I hope you enjoyed the story! As part of the SasuSakuFestival, please go to the ssfest page and vote, like and/or reblog, it would be majorly appreciated!

クリ

[the-squeeky-reel]

So Warner Brothers and Marvel Studios just released brand new trailers for their upcoming films, Justice League and Spider-Man: Homecoming.  Both of these trailers look incredible, and both companies just keep getting me more and more excited for each others films. I am not one of those fans who picks one side and hates the other, I love both comic properties, but Warner Bro. and DC are the ones that needed to prove more to me with Justice League, Marvel’s Cinematic Universe has developed a nice track record, especially with films like, the final two Captain America films, Guardians of the Galaxy, and basically their entire phase two and three lineups. Now Justice League is part of a cinematic universe that has struggled with both fans and critics. With only three movies in, all have received average to negative reviews, Warner Bros. and DC seem to desperately need a winner this time around. Now I’d just like to say, that I loved Man of Steel, I liked the Extended cut of Batman V. Superman: DOJ, but I really didn’t like Suicide Squad all that much. Now with that out-of-the-way, let’s talk about the awesomeness that is the second Justice League trailer and the second Spider-Man: Homecoming trailer.The newest Justice League trailer showcases brand new footage, by showing off some terrific epic battles, and new character interactions. They seem to be setting up The Flash as the main attraction. In the trailer we see Barry Allen visiting his father in prison, showing off his running style and how vibrant and different his powers will look on the big screen. Fans of the CW version of the Flash will notice the obvious differences between Grant Gustins, Barry Allen, and Ezra Miller’s. While Gustin seems to portray more of a burdened version of Barry, but aside from the touching moment between Barry and his father, Ezra’s Barry seems more happy-go-lucky, and just wants to do good things with his powers and make some friends along the way. There also seems to be a mentor and protegé relationship developing between Barry Allen, and Bruce Wayne.

Ben Affleck is reprising his role as Batman/ Bruce Wayne. Despite all of the backlash from Batman V. Superman, I still think he was one of the best parts of that movie, and I’m very excited to see what he has to offer in Justice League. With the trailer drop we seem to get another new suit change for the dark knight. In the beginning I think we’ll get his costume from BVS, then through the duration of the film, we’ll get at least three more suits. Bruce has taken on the role as recruiter and co – leader of the team along with Diana/ Wonder Women. With BVS, the entire tone of the film was dark and bleak with only a few one liners from Bruce and Alfred during their banter, but now it seems Bruce has two sides to him. To me it looks like he will have both a dry humor personality and that dark and bruising personality we saw in BVS. In this trailer we see Bruce actively recruiting team members while Diana is back at HQ monitoring. In both Justice League trailers, we see Bruce going to the reoccurring second home of ” The Aquaman”.

Arthur Curry/ Aquaman, played by Jason Momoa, seems to be the most difficult to recruit. During both trailers we see Arthur Curry getting tough with Bruce and begin very difficult. Now, in trailer #2 we see him in full costume and joining the team, and is dealing out some major damage. This version of Arthur Curry looks great! In past comic versions we’ve seen a clean-cut, blonde haired Atlantean that tries to over compensate by being rough and tough, but his look throws it all off. Now Jason Momoa’s portrayal looks rough, and rugged, which is exactly the kind of updated look Aquaman needed. His armor is fresh and classic, it looks very tribal and heavy-set. Aquaman gets a lot of screen time in the new trailer, and he shines throughout with all of his quick one liners, and bad ass action sequences. Now there was something that didn’t quite click with me during the trailer, and that was Cyborg.   I was trying really hard to like this iteration of Cyborg, but I just couldn’t. Hopefully I am surprised and he ends up being a big shining start in the film, but I’m just not getting that from the past two trailers. What’s throwing me off is his suit. It seems as though there are too many moving parts, rather than the mostly solid piece that I am used to. I do think Ray Fisher, from what I’ve seen in this trailer, looks like he’s going to give a good performance.  Now as much as I’ve been complaining about Cyborg, I think we all are going to have to just wait and see how he turns out. Now I really can’t decide on a clear winner if any in the battle of the trailers. I watched both trailers two to three times and both of them have a lot to offer and both just raised my expectations for each film.Spider-Man: Homecoming is in my top most anticipated movies of the year, so there’s no doubt I was eagerly awaiting the new trailer. I watched this trailer three times, and each time I found something new. Peter is riding high after the events of Captain America: Civil War, and the first trailer showed that. Upon examining the second trailer, It looks like Peter has some learning to do.  Robert Downey Jr. is reprising his role as Tony Stark/ Ironman, and is acting as Peter’s mentor and equipment designer.  This second trailer shows a lot more of the relationship between the two heroes and we actually get a reason, why Tony has decided to take on Peter as a protegé.

Tony seems very much in charge and in the trailer we see the infamous boat scene, where Peter is attempting to keep a boat from splitting apart using his webs.  Tony is seen coming in a saving the day to a Peter Parker who is way in over his head. Tony then lectures Peter about wanting him to be better than he is. This movie seems to be a passing of the torch from one generation to the new generation of heroes. It’s nice to see that character relationships are taking center stage in this film. Going along with this trend we see slightly more of the romantic relationship between Peter Parker and Liz Allen, played by Laura Harrier. Liz Allen is a brand new love interest in the film history of Spider-Man. In the past we’ve seen Mary Jane in Sam Rami’s iterations and In the Amazing franchise, we had Gwen Stacy. In the Ultimate comics, Liz was a sort of bigot who was against all super powered heroes, but in Homecoming, she seems to be more open to all walks of life.Michael Keaton also returns as another winged character, but this time he’s a villain known as the Vulture. He is seen wearing a tech suit with a lot a gadgets and gizmos at his disposal. Keaton’s portrayal seems ruthless, but he often talks about having a family, and being a blue-collar working man. Adrian Tombs (Vulture) seems to run with a crew, and he constantly talks about how close they are. It’s going to be really interesting to see a villain with so much depth, come to the big screen against Peter. Vulture’s suit looks amazing and his mask looks simple but menacing. Vulture is shown having metal wings, but their function looks more for gliding purposes, as he also has a jet pack in the middle of his back. Vulture has never been seen in a live action film, so I’m excited to see him make his big screen debut. Vulture isn’t the only one to have his suit showcased in the new trailer. In this trailer, we see that Peter has a few new gadgets of his own, and also that this suit isn’t the only one we’ll be seeing in the film. We don’t know exactly what the spider emblem is on Peters chest but in the trailer we see it come off and fly away.  The only thing I think it could be is a drone, but either way, it’s going to be cool to see how Peter uses this to his advantage. We also get to see how much tension and pressure is on Peter to do well, from the public to Tony. In the trailer, Tony takes back the suit, and that forces Peter to go back to his homemade suit. Peter seems to have some confidence issues, much like we’ve seen in past films, but now that’s going to show in his school life as well. Peter looks to be a sophomore in high school, much like in the Ultimate comic series.

Both of these trailers impress, and raise the excitement level for each film. For WB and DC I will go as far as saying that Justice League will be their first clear winner in their universe. I also think Spider-man: Homecoming will be another success in Marvel’s long list of already impressive films. Justice League will be released on November 17th, 2017, and Spider-Man Homecoming comes to theaters on July 7th, 2017.

  Post #3: Justice League and Spider-Man: Homecoming. So Warner Brothers and Marvel Studios just released brand new trailers for their upcoming films, Justice League…