I honestly loved that one panel of Carla reaching out to Chelia to join the circle of everyone sharing their magic power. It was a touching moment. Even if she lost all her magic, Chelia will not be treated any differently. Beautiful.
– submitted by anonymous
Wanna share a great observation about Logan I saw:
One thing that stuck out for me.
Remember how the trailer reveals X-Men comics exist in the universe of this movie? And how some reaction to that was just weird? Well, watching Logan, something struck me about the use of those comics beyond just the whole “It contains the coordinates for Eden” angle.
Logan has been compared to a Western; Xavier and Laura/X-23 are watching Shane and she even quotes the film during her eulogy to Logan. Well, during the late 19th to early 20th century, there were “Dime Store Novels,” which were considered cheap, sensationalist stories. The most popular ones were Westerns, featuring fictionalized accounts of real-life figures such as Jesse James, Buffalo Bill, Kit Carson, Wild Bill Hickok, Wyatt Earp, Billy the Kid, etc. Which, of course, enhanced their already legendary status. Thing is, the dime store novels are considered the literary ancestor of…you guessed it, comic books.
Thus in the world of Logan, comics are the dime store novels. Which not only further underscores the Western parallel, but that mutants, while real, are now all but extinct and considered figures of legend…just like the gunfighters of the Old West.
Want more? Gunslingers were considered outlaws, and were “hated and feared” while alive. Now we consider them almost heroic. In the world of Logan, mutants were hated and feared, too. But there are moments in the film where Logan encounters folks who, when they learn he’s a mutant, don’t react with fear, but rather with awe and respect, like the doctor who Laura brings to Logan. Which makes Xavier dream of humans no longer fearing mutants ironically and tragically fulfilled.
I wanted to visualize their feelings for each other through their expressions. An authentic love cultured from too many underlying past resemblances.
“…That to build on hearts is a foolish thing, That all things break, love, and beauty, Till Oblivion tosses them into his dosser To give them back to Eternity!“ I’ve often evoked that enchanted moon, The silence and the languidness, And that horrible confidence whispered In the heart’s confessional.”
Confession by Charles Baudelaire (translated by Roy Campbell)
[to the tune of “Fathoms Below” from the Little Mermaid] EONS AGOOOOOOOOO I posted this fic meme, but then had work exhaustion for like six straight days and was mentally tired for ages, SOOOOO much belatedly I present you with….
Post-XMA. Based off this ADORABLE COMIC by kawaiisharkchan, whose Tumblr has sadly been deactivated.
“I’m glad Jean’s birthday went well,” Charles remarked, leaning back comfortably in his chair and watching as Erik thought out his next move.
“Hm,” he replied, chin in hand. The game was wrapping up, and he could either prolong it, or end it and suggest to Charles they try another before it got too late and Erik had to leave.
“I really believe she was pleased with it as well,” Charles continued, as if he didn’t know how thrilled Jean Grey had been by the extravagant little party Charles had thrown for his favorite. Erik leveled an exasperated look at him, which he appeared oblivious to, going in for a sip of his tea, his large hands cradling the delicate cup with confidence and care.
“And she’s not my favorite,” Charles said, placing the cup back down on their small mahogany table. “I hardly have favorites. I love all of them equally.”
“Horseshit,” said Erik, moving his queen. A quick victory, then, and an appeal to another game.
“Another game, most certainly,” agreed Charles, smiling smugly, “but as for your victory….”
He looked down at the chessboard and his airy attitude dropped away, as did his grin.
“Hmm,” he said, sitting up and dropping his chin in his palm, scowling at the board.
“Took you by surprise, did I?” asked Erik with a wide grin. “Maybe that will teach you to pay attention instead of rambling on.” Charles ignored him, his focus dedicated to his next move.
Erik sipped his own tea, content with the silence and enjoying looking at the top of Charles’s smooth, bald head and the curves of his face. One of the students was practicing the piano in the next room and wasn’t half bad at it.
Eventually, though, Erik’s cup dried up, as did the teapot.
“I’m going to get some more tea,” he said, rising to his feet. He leaned down to get the empty pot and took a detour to rest his hand on Charles’s shoulder and kiss the top of his head, the way he imagined doing so often that the desire seemed to come now with every breath he took. Charles’s skin was soft and warm against his lips. “Don’t cheat.”
He gathered up the teapot and started for the door. It wasn’t until he was several steps from it that he realized that kissing Charles was something he’d only ever thought about. He’d never actually done it.
“I didn’t intend to kiss you,” he said, forcing himself to turn back around, regardless of his mortification.
“That’s quite all right,” said Charles, who was - God, he was actually blushing, pale cheeks flushed red, and looking…. Well, he looked pleased.
Erik got the tea, fingers and lips tingling. What should he say when he returned? Could he salvage their friendship from this little blunder?
But Charles spoke first when Erik returned, after he’d shut the door and walked the long distance to the table with their chess game.
“I have a small confession,” Charles said when Erik placed the teapot at his elbow like an offering. He reached out and snagged Erik’s sleeve with his fingers, then transferred them to wrap lightly around Erik’s wrist, over his pulse. He smiled up at Erik, red lips in a delighted curve. “If you must know…. You’re my favorite. You always have been.”