Have finally watched murderbot and immediately started reading the books.
1. Murderbot is the best. Love it. The most relatable anyone has ever been. I too just wanna watch my shows
2. Show gurathin? The wettest and most pathetic character i have seen in a while.
Yessss, I noticed you started liking my memes and I was like... did my bestie billyranger just get into Murderbot?? I was so hyped!
The books are so fucking good, it's insane. Amazing autistic representation, plus it's so refreshing to see how respectful the PresAux team are towards it? They respect its boundaries, they're accommodating, they generally just do their best to make it feel comfortable without judging it for being this way.
I'm really looking forward to seeing ART in season two, and I'm curious as to how they'll structure the damn thing, when there's a whole new cast of characters, and no appearances from the team we've come to know and love. It'll be interesting for sure.
And yes, Gurathin is giving peak 'scrungly kitten left in a cardboard box by the side of the road in the rain' and I love him so much. That 50 year old man is my wife. I'm pretty sure I can't fix him, but I can fuck him, and maybe that will calm him down for a bit. I'm willing to give it a try.
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He! Is so pretty when he cries! Standing on a boat. Maybe in the rain. Crying. In a house, or forest. Oh he cries again. Wearing a big, melancholy collar-popped coat. Crying.
He really ticks so many important character boxes.
Obligatory post in which I bullet point my feelings because, honestly, Iāve been doing it for quite some time and, even after four days, I canāt bring myself to form full sentences about it:Ā
IT WAS SO MUCH FUN
LIKE
I LAUGHED SO HARD
No, but seriously: I had read so many blogging against the jokes, criticizing them for making the movie overly frivolous and irritating.
I was afraidĀ that the constant comedy would undermine the very serious and interesting conflicts the first movie had exposed (KINGSHIP, SUCCESSION, LOKIāS EXISTENCE, LOKIāS PLACE IN THE REALM, LOKI IN GENERAL, ASGARDāS DYSFUNCTIONAL RULING FAMILY AND LOKI AND THORāS (DYS)FUNCTIONAL RELATIONSHIP)
but IT DIDNāT
donāt get me wrong: thereās silliness.Ā
Itās like a video clip sometimes
you just go with it.Ā
BUT
the complicated stuff is all there
AND MORE (Hello Hella, actual firstborn-WHAAAAT!)
A note, because itās important:
Iāve always hated the suggestion that Thor is stupid.Ā
HE IS NOT, DAMMIT.Ā
At the beginning of the first one he is belligerent, impatient and all around immature. He reacts constantly and his answer to everything boils down to punch his problems away.Ā
(UNLIKE NOW, WHEN HE FACES THEM)
He is not the leader Asgard needs (Odin sees it and even Loki, though his judgement is clouded with envy and anger towards his golden brother).Ā
Well, guess what: HE IS NOW. The minute he sits in that chair at the end of the movie is like he has claimed the one place that had been elusive to him from the beginning, that only now he comes to deserve (also, that moment when he sits in the throne, HOLD ME).
For all that said that the plot is bland because Thor is always coming back to Asgard to protect it (as if that were a bad thing, idk), let me tell you about the sheer beauty of this golden warrior that has traveled through all the nine realms and lived a thousand lives but, at the end of the day, all he wants is to do is come back home. A home thatās golden and wonderful as he, that also changes with him: itās threatened many times, is increasingly unstable and ends up broken but also strengthened in the process, as the hero, by the end of the trilogy. Thor IS Asgard and nothing could wash off the balm of his princely duty to protect it. He loves his home and would lay down his life to defend it.Ā āAsgard is the peopleā.Ā
And Loki, for all his Otherness and the feeling that he doesnāt belong, he has to admit... he kind of does. Son of Laufey but adopted by Odin and, truly, more like his adoptive father than the first, despite blue-ish appearances: their parallels in The Dark World have been pointed out,Ā and even Hela here says he āsoundsā like him when he intends to negotiate. Loki keeps going back to Asgard, again and again, as he keeps returning to Thorās side, even if it is to prove he has the upper hand, and got away with the last laugh.Ā Ā Ā
For me, one of the most brilliant pieces of dialogue in Thor: the Dark World was:Ā
LOKI: Satisfaction is not in my nature.Ā
THOR: Surrenderās not in mine.Ā
THATāS THE KEY TO READ THEM IN A NUTSHELL. Itās a duality, of sorts: on one hand, these two are presented as (godly) individuals with motivations and so on, but on the other hand their portrayal needs to be extreme (even seemingly one-dimensional) BECAUSE THEY ARE ALSO AKIN TO FORCES OF THE COSMOS THAT CANāT HELP THEIR NATURE.Ā
That takes me back to Thor and Lokiās v. touching scene in Sakaar that has been analysed wonderfully already. Let me just say I WILL NEVER RECOVER </3
For all the Gladiator fun and craziness of Sakaar, Thor is truly desperate to go back and ready to do what it takes to stop destruction. When he understands what he really needs to do in the end (EVEN BEFORE LOKI DOES AND HE IS I M P R E S S E D AT THE BOLDNESS OF THE SCHEME) he takes an enormous risk to save his people and sacrifices his home to the voracity of Ragnarok: as he sees Asgard succumb to the flames WITH ONE EYE, BECAUSE HE LOST THAT TOO, he wonders if he has done the right thing. AND I HAVE PEOPLE QUESTIONING CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT. SERIOUSLY? WHAT TRILOGY ARE YOU WATCHING? THOR LOOSES SO MUCH FROM THE FIRST MOVIE UP UNTIL THIS ONE. IF YOU SEE PAST THE FIREWORKS AND THE GAGS, YOU SEE THAT HE HAS GROWN THROUGH PAIN AND ACCEPTANCE. THERE ARE NOT ENOUGH JOKES IN MARVEL TO COVER THAT UP, GUYS.Ā
I have more to say but it seems Iām in the mood to defend my awesome god of Thunder with sparking hands and Labrador-like enthusiasm.Ā Ā
Disclaimer: I take no responsibility for any actual emotional devastation you may experience. The fact that I dug myself a hole and am happy-ish down here doesnāt mean I am not actually in a hole of emo feelings about the entire cast of characters. Perhaps Iām just very *neon sunglasses nothing-matters fingerguns* about it. No liability accepted by management. Grab a shovel, join me in the hole.
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my best friend has been into Owen Wilson for the longest time. Made me watch a bunch of his movies. I even had to sit through the haunting. The last few weeks on tumblr feel like a weird kind of vindication.
Your friend was a visionary, or has the power of prophecy. No but seriously, this is the plot twist 2021 tumblr needed all along. The Loki series reviving the Loki/Tom Hiddleston thirst was kind of a given, but the whole thing catapulting Owen Wilson into the role of new tumblr heart-throb, that's just *chef's kiss* Random as fuck. I love it.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
āWhatā he read ādo you miss the most?ā
The idea was preposterous.
A voice, as shrill as every annoying voice in the TVA, had uttered something about a āMandatory self-examination across the boardā, but he didnāt think they would really have him, of all people ā if indeed he was people to them ā subjected to this nonsense. Surely, they would not make himā¦
Well, technically, they could and were.
He went back to the question. This had Mobius written all over it. The sheer nerve of that puny little bureaucrat, that consiedered himself so perceptive, so incisive, that he thought he could play mind games with the God of Mischief, Master of Illusion!
Which he most certainly was.
Another sigh.
For all their precious time-guarding, well, they sure liked wasting it. What laid behind him? Nothing but fire and ruin. The very idea of missing one iota of Asgard (the golden city, he thought with derision, that now laid dead as dust, if the copious files the TVA so meticulously archived were to be believed) sounded ridiculous.
Such a Midgardian notion that was, missing something. Gods did not miss. Gods did not yearn. Gods were absolute.
They simply did not have in them the necessity to remember anything like the warm wind blowing in quiet summer evenings, or the ever so colourful trees and bushes that adorned the Royal Gardens in which he spent most of his youthful days practicing his motherās charms and incantations while hiding from Thorās boisterous ācalls to armsā that usually had them getting in trouble.
Gods had no need for that. Sentiment.
What was there to miss, anyway? The bullying? The humiliation? The sheer feeling of inadequacy? Because there were moments in which he had felt so out of place he could still remember the sting of tears prickling him.
He looked down at his hands. How ironic that he had not been that far off then, after all, when he had felt misplaced and ashamed, even though he detested the recollection of feeling vulnerable. He wasnāt big on showing weakness that couldnāt be quickly twisted into being something else.
Not that any of that mattered anymore. He felt certain that he wouldnāt be able to come back even if he could.
Could he? Would he?
Something tightened in his chest.
Closing his eyes, somewhat exasperated, he tried to conjure up his strength, his sense of self, summon some of the reassurance he had so readily given every being that had crossed his path, of his rightful place in the Cosmos.
He found only emptiness.
Not knowing is not a bad thing, dear.
A cold unlike anything that he had felt before, colder than the cruel breeze of Jƶtunheim, ran through the lean muscles of his back. Alarmed, he gripped his knees and squared his jaw.
M-Mother?
Something buried deep inside him hurt and made breathing difficult. Still, he kept his eyes closed, desperately searching forā¦ he couldnāt even say it.
Oh, Loki. My son. What have you gotten yourself into?
The thought of Frigga being held prisoner had, admittedly crossed his mind before, but it was rapidly dismissed this time.
No. This was an illusion. A crafty one, a good one. It was one of his own.
Youāre unusually quiet. Itās unsettling.
Was he supposed to say something back? Was he really going to enact this ridiculous charade in his own head, out of some misplaced feeling of guilt? Regret? Loss?
Iām sorry, Mother.
Would it be a crime to indulge himself in thinking she would forgive him?
I know.
He sighed and relaxed his white fingers. His arms felt suddenly very heavy, and his head fell forward.
You are weary, my son. Tell me whatās bothering you. Talk to me.
He spoke slowly, not for the first time afraid of himself.
You areā¦ not here.
Her reply came, somewhat cheekily for a Queen, Loki thought. That has not stopped you before.
That was true enough, he supposed, remembering the images that plagued him behind his eyelids since that day he had been shown his file.
And how would that me an impediment to listen to you? Didnāt I always listen?
He remembered being little, his head on her lap and her patient hands brushing through his raven locks as he, between hiccups, retold some cruel mishap or other. He could feel his tears dampening her dress, but he could tell, without looking at her, that she did not mind.
Loki huffed. He was bigger now but feeling as little as that boy, bent down and on the verge of being broken. For real this time.
Iā¦ donāt know what lies ahead. What is expected of me. How do Iā¦ fit in. If I fit in somewhere, in the great scheme of things.
Friggaās voice did not come back to coax him to speak and, even though his throat felt very dry, he went on:
Iām sick of dead-ends, of being in chains, locked up, tied down, passed on for amusement. I tired of feeling thisā¦ this rage, Mother.
He thought she heard a tiny whimper but carried on, past caution or care:
There is a weigh I carry with me all the time that canāt shed, no matter how far I go. It follows me, feeds off of me, in whatever world I end up in. And Iām tired of shouldering it. Iām so tired. Iāve never felt so... powerless and Iāve never, ever, in my darkest moments, felt so alone.
Silence surrounded him. He felt the familiar uneasiness that came with the knowledge of reaching a wall that couldnāt be breached. How could he? Everything was, after all, in his head.Ā
He was bound to go round and round in circles.
Not knowing is not a bad thing, dear.
āIt certainly feels like oneā he thought dryly, cursing with all the spite he could muster the powers that had made whatever version of him feel so bereft.
You were always one to twist, but it doesnāt feel as good being twisted, does it?
Well, that was new. He tightened his lips together.
You are not beyond uncertainty, Loki. No one is. Nothing is. Fate is not set in stone, but mercurial and ultimately immaterial as time. We are all bound to it, but only a few have the power to be released by it.
Riddles sound an awful lot as lies,ā¦
Confused, annoyed and impatient for answers, he began lashing out but was soon put to rest by the only one who truly knew best when it came to him.
ā¦ and you, of all beings, should know the truth they both hide. Dwell upon it, son. I have faith in you.
Unexpected tears pooled behind his eyelids once more and, for all his bravado, found himself unprepared for what came next:
I love you. With all my heart. I know youāll find a way.
His sharp intake of breath was so violent that it made him cough. He opened his eyes with childlike urgency, but neither brown, gentle eyes were there to greet him, nor her calm, wise voice came to ease the pain of her loss. At his feet he found only a desk and a sheet of paper wherein lied the question that had triggered it all.
As he leaned back in his chair and tried to steady his rapid breaths, he considered the words that had come from so far within. The paper, the desk, this place, the whole Cosmos, seemed as insubstantial as air. The past, the present, the future laid before him in a rapid succession of possibilities. He thought of home, of Frigga and the soft and skillful hands that had welcomed, nurtured and taught him so patiently and lovingly over the long years of milennia. Of course he missed, he yearned, he loved. And he would go back... just as he would go beyond.
The TVA did not have a hold on him anymore. He was free ā or would be very soon. The thought of a plan made him feel giddy, excited, and laughter, joyous, unchecked and certainly defiant erupted from his lips.
