#and that kind of thing comes with
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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.
but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.
i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.
so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.
you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."
i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"
"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.
i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.
and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.
you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."
"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."
you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.
i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"
"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."
"do i die?"
you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."
"oh."
"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."
i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.
i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.
"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."
i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.
you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."
"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.
you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."
"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.
i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."
you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."
"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."
"you could always die, to be fair."
i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"
"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."
i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."
"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."
i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"
"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."
i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"
i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.
"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."
you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.
you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.
i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.
#warm up#prose#i just realized that there's a horror film in there about being someone NOT in a loop.#if i wanted to make it longer i'd have them come back like SUPER battered and hellish.#on round like 999#like halfway through lunch like - YOU . I LOVE U . IM SORRY . I RUINED IT BC I LOVE U CANT U SEE THAT#but like. yeah man what happens when someone else in control of ur destiny#what happens to all the versions of u that DO die...#i also wanted a pre-redemption time looper - this person#(who in my brain is they/them)#is absolutelyyyyyy toying with the narrator bc the time looper is caught up in like#an emo angsty '' i can't have what i want bc i ruin things'' self harm spiral#and like literally the way out of that spiral is to TRY bud.#but this is a person pre-redemption. still kind of an ass. still not really listening to her#still a little bit ignoring that they kissed someone 3 days ago#still KNOWS she likes them and DOES like her back. but is just too chickenshit still.#we're talkin that person we've ALL dated that's like ''i can't be with u anymore bc i am Too Broken and I Can't Stand Hurting U"#... i imagine they grow up tho. eventually.
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This is petty fandom salt, BUT... I've been chewing on this phenomenon that I've been calling "Fandom's Darling". It is related to things like "Author's Darling" and "Mary Sue / Gary Stu" and "Protagonist Halo" and all that jazz, where one character gains a peculiar narrative weight in a story.
"Author's Darling" is when a writer has a favorite character, and the world and all other characters sort of get... warped to put the Darling in the spotlight. It's most noticeable in TV shows with multiple writers, when a character you personally like suddenly has their previous characterization destroyed to make another character look good somehow. Every other character might become weirdly incompetent. The Darling's feelings are treated as The Most Important Feelings in any given situation. The logic of the fictional world seems broken past suspension of disbelief in order to validate this one character's beliefs or skillset or some other fantasy. And so on.
"Fandom's Darling" is what I've been calling the pattern where a fandom essentially crowns a New Protagonist for their fanfiction stories (it's often a side character rather than the original protagonist, but it can also happen to protagonists). This character becomes the self-insert for all sorts of indulgent fantasies, gaining special powers or backstories, and/or becoming the focus of extreme whump, and/or hooking up with all the various hotties, starring in all sorts of tropey AUs, and so on. They're not always an obvious Mary Sue version of themselves, but the character's original personality and interpersonal relationships tend to get warped or dropped completely, and other characters tend to become a little flat around them. I call it "Fandom's Darling" because it's not just one self-indulgent fantasy fic (you do you! Have fun!) with characterization choices that I don't vibe with (I have neither the time nor the desire nor the authority to police anything, I am just venting), but rather a prolific mini-fandom of sorts revolving around this empty doll / fanon version of the chosen vessel character, so it becomes a little unavoidable.
I am salty about this (mildly frustrated) (imagine a soft sigh of disappointment before I just go do something else) because you are FUCKED if you actually liked the canonical version of this character and their interpersonal relationships. It's almost worse than liking an obscure character that no one cares about. There's about a thousand fics starring your fave, but maybe only about a dozen of them are actually rooted in any kind of recognisable canon.
#I didn't watch Teen Wolf but I know this happened to that Stiles character#I'm not active in any DC fandom but it looks like this happened to Tim Drake and to a lesser extent Dick and Jason#In prequels-era Star Wars it seems to be Obi-Wan; he's the spark/focus of this post here; bring back his flaws I like that he kind of sucks#sometimes a Fandom's Darling comes out of an Author's Darling! usually Fandom's are vessels to fuck the âhottest guyâ available though#I will probably turn reblogs off if this spreads too far because I really don't care if people write Mary Sue fanfic; can't cast that stone#squinting at every âintersexâ tag like Inigo Montoya: âI don't think that means what you think it means.â#honestly the fantasy intersex thing is a separate & more serious post; but the fandom usage is a red/yellow flag for me when searching#tossawary fandom#fandom's darling
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if i had a nickel for every au spawned from twitter that i SWORE i was going to be normal about
#i'd have like. five. which isn't a lot but IT KEEPS HAPPENING#stranger things#platonic stobin#steddie#steve harrington#robin buckley#eddie munson#here we go again boys#i've had this floating in my head for a Minute and i was like#nah i'm not gonna do it#maybe i'll anonymously write a fic#but no we're mombin posting on main#i think on twt we agreed it's a 'what's the worst that could happen' situation#platonic co parents can be so so so personal#also i have One more stobin wip and then bg3 again i swear#when i have a baby i Will be putting my giant black wings on beforehand#they have to know what kind of family they're coming into#cw pregnancy
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so I started playing stardew valley, and now it's the only thing I want to do with my life
I had to trick myself by drawing stardew things, namely krobus my beloved
#my brain is screaming at me for posting at a bad hour#but when it comes to me doing things if i dont finish them in one sitting i never do#so I want to post it now#please be kind to me and rb it to prove my brain it's fine#krobus#stardew valley#stardew#stardew valley krobus#sdv krobus#void chicken#strange bun#art#stardew fanart#digital art#artists on tumblr#my art#artist#drawing#digital artist
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Source: Dai Dark 性ăăŒăŻ
by Q Hayashida
#Dai Dark#Q Hayashida#Manga and Stuff#Mangacap#Manga#Art#the exact kind of thing I would expect q hayashida to come up with...
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tiger lily
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#yuji itadori#itadori yuuji#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#jjk sukuna#sorry for disappearing for a week this was why#tbh if i ever disappear Ever it usually means one of 2 things#either im having a mental breakdown and will not be back for like 3+ months (unlikely but Has Happened)#or (more likely) i started a painting and i'm in rendering hell#this was a bit of an experiment in Shapes and colour blocking#id kind of been dabbling in harsh lines and layered block shapes but i wanted to find a way to combine tht look with my usual oil paint#and i figured a piece tht focused on ??? dappled light ??? foliage??? idk??? would b a good test subject#i benched my rake brush for this and everything :'> she's on break after months of carrying every1 say thank u#anyway i had the vision of sukuna/yuuji and tigers but then i rly rly didnt want to draw tigers#so i thought aha! tiger LILY!!!!!! checkmate#turned th colours real Tropical real jungle-y i am a big fan of the divide layer on the lily i thought tht looked very neat#dont come fr me abt the accuracy of their traditional wear i was referecing cosplays and prsk cards ok we r not after authenticity here#vibes only <3 thank u for your time <3
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queen of diamonds, upright + reversed đ
I've redone this like eighty times, I have to just be done with it now and stop staring at all my mistakes oh no đ«
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 spoilers#twisted wonderland episode 7 part 8 spoilers#twisted wonderland book 7 part 8 spoilers#coming in well after the fact but that's what happens when the art doesn't cooperate#and i just HAD to draw something for vil's ob (re-ob?) because i loved it so much#legit put my hand over my mouth and went âoh!â when i realized what was happening#i thought it was just going to be an idia thing because. y'know. closing out his character arc from episode 6 and all#so this was like. oh! oh we're going to get ALL the inky boys!!!!!#i wonder if this is why we got a malleus flashback so early...#not to mention everyone's dreams?!#i am braced for 90% of the dreams to be kind of jokey/inconsequential because we have SO many characters to get through#and most of the time will probably be spent on our lads (literally) dropkicking their emotional problems#but i am excited to see everyone regardless!#and also kind of terrified! what on EARTH will floyd be dreaming about. do i want to know.#i do but do i want to.#man. they're probably not going to get back to it but i do wonder what silver's dream was#what was he doing when he was like 'wait a minute' and noped right out of there#lilia: here silver i made dinner :)#silver: oh boy this looks great! ...YOU'RE NOT MY REAL DAD#ouuuagh i'm still deep in the blotsauce guys and i'm loving it#come make snowangels in the ink with me it's great
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Soviet Birds.
The secret facility that I work in has holes in the ceiling. We don't know how to get them fixed.
We tried asking the government to fix it, once. We told them that the holes in the older parts of the facility had gotten large enough to fit birds through, and that birds were getting through, and that, perhaps, a Soviet Spy could fit through as well.
After all, it is well known that Soviet Spies and pigeons are approximately the same diameter.
Our hope was that that this vague and nonsensical threat would put a little fire under Uncle Sam's feet. If the fed couldn't be bothered to give a shit about the giant gaping holes in the roof of our facility, perhaps they could be persuaded to give a shit about... Soviet Spies.
This attempt at manipulation 100% blew up in our faces.
See, the government does not need to be persuaded to give a shit about Soviet Spies. It still wakes up most nights, drenched in cold sweat, terrified and confident that a Soviet Spy is hiding in their nightstand. If it sees a rock on the ground, it flips it over, pistol drawn, ready to shoot the Soviet Spy it fully expects to slither out from underneath. Which is to say: The government is crazy. So when we dropped those two words - inflitration risk - in the repair request, they came in guns-a-blazin'.
Does that mean that they fixed the roof? Of course not. Don't be stupid. No, instead of performing basic maintenance, they installed a state of the art alarm system throughout the facility - lasers, sonar, the works - and told us to always be on the guard. Because of the roof holes.
Then they left.
So now we had an extremely good alarm system... and birds. Which have combined in incredibly obvious and predictable ways to produce an unending fountain of problems.
For Example: About once a month, someone gets called in by the local airforce dispatch because AAAAAAAAAAA a Spy is in the Rad Lab! We're all gonna die! Except every time, it's a bird. And I get why we have to check, but every time, the dispatcher is panicked and the person going out has to be like listen, listen: It's a bird. It's always a bird. It's been a bird every month for the last fifteen years. It will be a bird next month. All this stress? Bad for your heart.
Second Example: Sometimes, birds get in while we're actually working. And when it's in the morning, you know, it's a nuisance, and it stops testing (we are not going to risk irradiating a bird) but it's not an all-hands-on-deck situation because it doesn't take ten hours to get a bird out. But surprisingly often, the bird gets in riiiiight at closing time, and in that situation, everyone goes feral because nobody can leave until the alarm is set, and we cannot set the alarm while the bird is there, because the bird would immediately trigger it and then we'd have to stay another 4 hours to confirm that it was not a Soviet Bird.
So in order to go home, everyone's top priority is Get That Bird. And we have a system for it.
Step 1: The test stands tend to be located in rooms with 30+ foot ceilings. We can't catch birds in places like that - so we have to lure the bird into the relatively low ceilinged (8 feet only) upper offices.
We do this by turning all the lights off in the test rooms, then putting floodlights by the exits. I don't know why this works - some kind of evolutionary brain fragment shared by both Bugs and Birds - but work it does. The birds almost always follow after the lights. From there, itâs just two guys moving the floodlight and a third guy to turn off the lights.
Step 2: Everyone else has been waiting for this step. There is this long stairway up from the basement level into the offices, and in the final stage, the floodlights are brought to the base of the stairwell to bring the bird up. At the top of the steps there will be a group of tennish people, waiting for the signal. The light guys will set up the final transfer, everyone will tense, and then, swish...a bird will flit up the stairs and into the offices.
It's like watching werewolves on a full moon. Before the bird cometh, we are engineers. Nerds. Pale and skinny things, trembling under the fluorescent lights. After the bird, we are beasts. Feral, gnawing things, glowing under the orange sunrise of the 70's halogen floodlights.
And like all beasts, we cannot help but give chase.
Step 3: The were-engineers begin the hunt. The goal at the start is not really to catch the bird - just exhaust it. So the pack simply does not relent. Because the stakes are going home on time, the group is basically given free reign to go anywhere in the building. If someone's door is open, and the bird goes inside, they're going to have to deal with ten sweaty panting maniacs leaping around their office. They don't get to say that they're busy, or remark on how all this movement is a terrible distraction. They are allowed to sit in silence during the chaos, and perhaps thank the war party for chasing the bird while they sat comfortably on their ass. This has been explained several times, and it will continue to be explained until cooperation is achieved.
Anyway.
The chase can go on for quite some time. Sometimes, the bird will get tired and find a crevice to hide in, where it can then be reached through standard cornered-bird catching techniques.
Other times, it will slow down enough that someone can actually yoink it out of the air. But this will go on until someone catches the bird and triggers Step 4.
Step 4: The Finale. This is the get-the-bird-out-of-the-building stage, and it requires someone to adopt a specific role: To Become the Sacrificial Vessel of Bird Removal.
This job is both coveted and feared. It's coveted, because holding a wild bird in one's hands is a precious thing. To feel how small, and fragile, and scared it is, only to free it from the building? That is what it's like to be a benevolent God. But the cost! Oh, the cost. The entire time the Vessel is in motion, the bird will be biting the hell out of their fingers. And I cannot emphasize enough just how painful bird bites are. Their entire face is a set of needle posed pliers, and they know tricks the even the cartels haven't figured out yet. So there's always a little hubbub about who shall be The Vessel while onlookers, stranded outside The Office of Bird Capture, can only look on. Quiet arguments and pleas are heard, little fragments of fear and pride and glory trickling out of room like the silver dust left behind in a bag of well shook quarters. The sound of concensus is silence, and the argument will go on until that's all that's left. And then, from the darkness of the final office, the chosen sacrifice will step forward: Hands gently cupped, tears streaming down their face, fingers trembling from the pain of the ongoing bird chomps.
And this scene is what organizes people. Not leadership, not truly. No one can think and coordinate a crowd while their fingers are being attacked with a combination nutcracker/ear piercer. But the crowd sees the suffering of their annointed, and it is driven to do everything poossible to make the process flow. People instinctively flair out, finding the fastest path outside. Doors are held open. Paths are cleared. Someone, somehow, always knows the way forward and can describe it to the sufferer. Left, left, forward. Corner closet. Yep, there's a hall in there. Forward. Two-hundred more feet man, you're doing great. Just hold it together a little longer. You're killing it.
Then the final door swings open, and the bird flees out into what remains of daylight. And yet, even here, the deed is not yet done. I cannot explain it in words, but the crowd that helped is never content until they can see and speak on the Bird Vessel's wounds. They all have to pull the fingers back and see what was given. Estimate the price: One day to get better - No, three - No, a week! Are you blind? Do you see that blood blister? -Yeah, that's not going away anytime soon - Damn, can you believe how feisty those things are? Like wolves without teeth.
(They cannot help but touch as they go. It has always been this way. Even Thomas was not content until he felt the wounds in Christ's hands.)
Only when the last of the helpers has seen, and commented, and commended, will the engineers scatter. It is their return from the underworld that announces to the sun living surface dwellers that they too can go home. (@somerunner tolja it needed to be a post.)
#DoD work#lab nonsense#soviet birds#i really like being the bird guy if you cant tell#i just like birds in general#i think this was an essay?#dont really know how to cover the ending for this thing#one part explanation of insane government inefficiency#one part explanation of the kind of joyful humanity that only *comes* from interacting with hilariously inefficient systems#like a full on defense of the beauty that only comes from poor uses of resources#and one part poetic exploration of the sacrificial hero archetype as a bird catcher#i spent so much fuckin time make this guys you have no idea#maximum effort post#effort post
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Churchill: I hope I can be like napoleon
Napoleon: I hope I can be like caesar
Caesar: I hope I can be like alexander the great
Alexander the great: I hope I can be like achilles
Achilles: I hope patroclus fucks me today
#hope you all like this quick little history lesson#remember friends: the only thing a man really wants is another man. carnally.#winston churchill#napoleon bonaparte#julius caesar#alexander the great#achilles#patroclus#patrochilles#<- everything I post about comes back to them#history#tagamemnon#kind of
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I think the Batkids reaction to a Bruce who isn't de-aged to 8 but rather 29 (pre-Jason death, post his adoption) would be fascinating.
Their reaction would vary wildly:
Dick: Oh. Bruce is soft again. Bruce calls them âchumâ and âbuddyâ and gives head pats for no reason. He still isnât perfect, his communication skills are still a work in progress, but compared to his future self? Without actively dying Dick is hugged plenty. Bruce asks him to go to the zoo, unrelated to any case, just to spend time together. Dick is hit with more nostalgia and longing for the past than he knows what to do with.
Also notable: his dad is younger than him. That is something. Second, holy existential crisis Batman, his dad is younger than him and already one adult and one teenage kid??? Dick is not ready to feel this old yet. Third, Dick has absolutely no idea how Bruce managed to stay patient through his no-pants years. He is going to thank reason every day from now on that Damian wears full protection.
Jason: After his death and League he clung to an image of Bruce. One many tried to beat out of him, but he still kept it somewhere close to his heart, buried deep enough even he couldnât see it. When he came back Bruce wasnât like this idea of him. How stupid of him to believe the mind of a traumatized kid. Trying to create one good thing before the kid drew his last breath. Making up memories that never even existed.
But they did. Every smile and hug and even his words reflect the image tugged safely against his still-beating heart. His dad very clearly, very deeply loves him. Which is so much worse. Because he can understand why a Bruce, who never cared, didnât kill the Joker. But he cares. So why the fuck did he not kill the Joker?
Tim: The reason he joined the family, the reason why he became Robin in the first place was because he saw a problem when Bruce started self-destructing and thought âSomeone needs to fix that!â. Therefore he went and collected Dick, who didnât seem keen on fixing it. So, the job fell to him to fix it.
He thought he did a good job, he thought he fixed the problem. Except now he sees who Bruce was, and he knows he failed. Their Bruce is less soft, less affectionate, less like he was before. Batman needs a Robin and Tim didnât manage to be good enough of one to save him.
[Or: Tim has a guilt complex a hundred miles wide and blames himself for things that arenât his fault part 52]
Steph: Jason and she are very similar. Both come from the Narrows, both have a mother addicted to drugs and a shitty father. The differences start when Steph keeps waiting on the roof of their apartment for Batman to whisk her away, while Jason tries to steal the tires of the Batmobile and is taken in.
When Steph started out as Spoiler Bruce tried to keep her off the field, and obviously this one would too (even if he would probably be less paranoid about it), but she knows this Bruce would have also taken her in. This Bruce would be the father she always wished for when she sat on their roof and couldnât see any stars.
And she didnât get to have this because Jason went ahead and died. (Of course, she knows she isnât fair to the guy. Dying isnât fun⊠And she knows the only reason she lived is because he died. When Batman rescued her from Black Mask she was in such terrible shape that Leslie managed to convince the Worldâs Greatest Detective that she died. If Jason hadnât died Bruce wouldnât have been as paranoid, wouldnât have noticed her missing so soon, wouldnât have been as urgent in his response. Would have been just a minute slower, a minute which would have killed her. Just as it had Jason.)
For her, this Bruce is a distorted mirror into a past which never was.
Cass: This Bruce and B are not the same person. They donât move the same. In a fight, this Bruce is younger, faster, stronger. Doesnât compensate for a previously broken spine. Less experienced. Still one of the most experienced she knows, but less.
He still moves differently, outside a fight, less pain. More likely to engage in physical affection, more likely to hug and pat and talk. He talks more than B. B knows what she means without words. This Bruce doesnât.
She likes this Bruce, warmth, and softness. But not as much as B. He knows what she means, when she wants a hug, when she tells him âI love youâ without words. B doesnât need words. This Bruce doesnât know her, doesnât communicate like her. She wants B back.
Damian: At first, when this version of his father seemed uncanny and oddly familiar, he assumed it to be due to the stories of his mother. After all, she always told him tales about his father. He simply did not have the frame of reference to understand the kindness she spoke of. Clearly, the clash between the ideals of the League and the ones of his father causes these feelings, just as they did when he first entered the manor.
He presumed this to be the case until one day on patrol Batman laid a hand on his shoulder and told him he did a good job after no particularly impressive fight and he nearly called him âGraysonâ. Because the stories of his mother may have painted the picture of this version of his father, however, it wasnât what made it familiar; no, he knew this kindness. These hugs and compliments one would bestow upon a child. Compliments which, despite the indignity, still warm him. Because Grayson learned how to be a⊠caregiver from his father.
His father used to be like Grayson, used to be until his grief hardened him. Damian could have had this. Damian could have a brother and father who would- But he doesnât because of Todd. He loathes Todd. Loathes him for ruining the life he could have had.
Why did he die anyway? Damian certainly wouldnât have a problem escaping bonds created by the Joker, Damian would have disarmed the bomb in time, Damian would have never thrown this life away like he did.
[Or: Damian is a child who was raised by assassins and has unreasonable standards for fighting abilities and also is a child who needs to focus his rage on someone.]
Duke: He was neither there before Jason died nor in the aftermath [according to my math he was around 4 when Jason died] he joined the family when Jason was already back for 4 years or so. He mostly skipped all the drama. For him, Bruce is the way Bruce is because he is Bruce. Itâs weird to see him so different, to see how grief shaped parts of Bruce which Duke assumed were just Bruce things.
Heâs glad this Bruce is brighter, or not because it just highlights how much that light will dim? Who knows, certainly not him.
What he does know is that, with their Bruce, he has a distance which, with his parents still alive, he appreciates. With this Bruce, he can understand why Dick struggled so much whether he wants to be his ward or son, how he doesnât want to replace his parents but still have this Bruce as a dad. It definitely explained the ted talk Dick tried to give him after Bruce officially took him in as a ward.
He likes this Bruce well enough, but he doesnât necessarily want him to stay this way. Yes, their Bruce is less happy, less open but he did heal, he did grow. Duke met a Bruce who tried to learn from his mistakes, learned to communicate better, and learned when to pull and when to push. For Tim, Damian, Dick, and certainly Jason there is too much baggage, too much history in their relationships, itâs difficult for them to ever move past- anything really.
Sure, when Dick and Bruce are on the same page they are essentially invincible but then the past catches up again and they donât talk to each other for months. And honestly? Apart from Cass, Dukeâs pretty sure he has one of the best relationships with Bruce simply because he got to know him at a better time.
Duke doesnât mind this Bruce. But their Bruce loved Jason, cared for him so deeply the scars still show to this day. And he still chooses to open up again even if just a bit by bit. Even if just Duke can see it. He is used to being the only one that can see.
And maybe knowing this care extends to him, this love even grief canât shake? Maybe it makes him feel just a little bit safer, a little bit warmer, a little bit brighter.
#Anyway Alfred is just very sad.#Also i like to believe Bruce learned from each of his kids#just that Dick wanted space and Jason closeness#Tim just wanted Bruce to be more careful and steph wanted him to do more#and bruce kind of tried to learn and then applied the thing that would have been amazing for one kid for another who hates it#by now he kind of gets that one solution isn't going to work for all his kids.#but his relationships are already strained#bruce wayne#jason todd#cassandra cain#dick grayson#tim drake#damian wayne#duke thomas#batfam#batfamily#stephanie brown#batdad#de aging#fic ideas#batman#i have thoughts on Steph & Jason parallels#most of them come from writers not caring about steph but still#that makes them even more interesting to me
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earth pony/pegasus/unicorn/alicorn
#mlp#my little pony#pinkie pie#applejack#fluttershy#rainbow dash#rarity#twilight sparkle#inspired by the dunmsh species swap thing....#using my designs where the cutiemark changes placement depending on the kind of pony ^.^#also im pretty sure not all alicorns are like... flowy. and stuff but. let me entertain myself come on.
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
#almost wrote the champagne line as ''effervescent'' but legit could not write it without saying ''effervescent like a snail''#ah tumblr...#writeblr#warm up#idk . having trouble writing rn#ps i don't like to talk about it . it is my medical information. but before you ask. yes this is about being on the spectrum#i really don't like when ppl make my writing about how im [whatever ID]. i want it to ring true for the people who it rings true for#i don't want it to be like ''awwwww look at this person!!! she's the EXCEPTION!!! :)" .....#no.... not really.....#idk something gross happens whenever i admit to certain conditions and i turn into like inspiration p*rnography#like yes they actually let us use keyboards these days#furthermore i just... dont feel comfortable talking about this part of me. i had too bad of a childhood. adhd is one thing...#this one im like. still coming to terms with. which is like. my own journey.#idk. just please be kind. some things are more private than others. this one feels private to me.#i do not know how to help others w/this . and i do not know how to help myself. i will talk about it if im ever ready. idk if that will#actually ever happen#ty in advance i love u im kissing you we are kissing somewhere on the spectrum
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something something seeing things through different eyes
#tigerghost#art student manny is my FAVORITE of jorge guitierrez's plans for his life. i LOVEEEE that sm#danny takes him to the ghost zone for some mission reason and hes like OHHH MY GOD THIS IS SICK AS FUCK#ITS AWAKENED LATENT FINE ART IMPULSES IN ME!!#meanwhile danny kind of tolerates being in the GZ but its very much like. not a place where Good things happen to him#hes grown accustomed to it and he loves certain things about it but he will never be fond of it and that sort of colors his perception of i#so manny coming in like WHOAH AND YOURE THE /KING/ HERE? THINK OF ALL THE COOL ASS GHOSTS YOU CAN MEET! THE AWESOME GHOST LANDS!#THE FLOATING GREEN STUFF!!!#gives him a little bit of that first-time wonder back :')#anyways the style is HEAVILY cribbed from anastasia trusova who i HIGHLY recommend checking out#when im rich and famous i shall buy many of her pieces#ntu tag#designs as always tm tm tm tumblr user nicktoonsunite#also mannys jersey was kept safe by his Painting Shirt (now tied about his waist) you know his apartment is eclectic af#but quite clean. he got the stress cleaning habit from his dad
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[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason đ and then even longer to post
#dc comics#dc#damian wayne#dick grayson#talia al ghul#batfamily#dc robin#nightwing#anyway. yes im a self-indulgent ''dick as damians secret third parent'' truther#like i DO think it's way more complex and nuanced than the schmoopy affectionate fan portrayal of it#they're brothers they're father and son they're partners they're the dynamic duo except only in past tense etc etc#but consider! I'm not immune to schmoopy affection in fanworks. it compells me despite itself#anyway it's technically not that crazy when it comes to dick and damian. they hug! often! at least they did#it's not as big a leap to these types of scenarios#also talia ''somewhat absent for complex reasons on both her and damians part but very loving and loved by her son'' al ghul#you will always be famous to me#son of the demon origin...bwahhh#anyway. someone made a comic kind of like this/like a post i made abt this topic#but way funnier bc dick and talia starting trying to beat each other up#so go look at that as well#anyway. it's been a somewhat difficult few weeks so I'm. desperately trying to take it easy#i got some reading with me (first vol of kevin smiths GA run that i found second hand and jaimes BB run vol 2!)#so we'll see how far i get through those. considering there's demons in my head telling me to re-read things (LET ME OUT!!!)#when i finish GA and BB i do plan on rereading robin 2021. as a treat to myself#it's a run I've really warmed up to as time went on#I'm keeping up w/ the current b&r run even though it is. admittedly very slow w/ some weird dialogue#i read it for the damian content more than anything. also nikas back so that's neat :]#idk I have a feeling that after absolute power shakes out we might get some more creative team switch ups#so if anyone at dc is interested in taking over the reigns on b&r...that could be very neat#mine
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various art trades from the past month! had FUN as usual
#my art#furry#anthro#monster#dragon#oc#not my own but nevertheless#these characters are all lots of fun....thank you everyone for giving me cool guys to draw#also BIG things coming (said for the sixth time over the course of the year)#anyway i went apple picking for the last time this year recently which pretty much brings scrumping season to an end#here's a review: blackberries EARLY. annoyingly early but they were okay. greengages amazing. brings a tear to my eye#cherries SUCKED. cherries do better next year. grapes i'm still harvesting actually but doing well. sweet#and apples kind of popped off!!! year of the ugly apple this year - the beautiful red ones were worse than the scabruous pimply brown ones#which were crisp and had thin skin and a beautiful sweet-mellow-nutty taste...wonderful
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Local man desperately trying to stop the cycle before it gets to his kids (itâs already there)
#with great power comes You Are Still A Child. Be A Child. Do Not Kill This Part Of Yourself Because You Think I Wonât Love You If You Donât#âthere comes a time when we all must grow upâ and that time has no obligation to come at 15#ninjago#lego ninjago#my art#lloyd garmadon#dragons rising#ninjago lloyd#ninjago sora#lloyd and sora have so many fuckinf parallels man Iâm crazy#they keep doing the same things they keep being like each other#thatâs his kind of daughter TO ME
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