#i made myself sad ;-;

[muqingslover]

[ Second part of this because I don't keep my pookies waiting ;) Enjoy my dear Sylus lovers. ]

Sylus is a strong man. He knows that, and he makes sure those who defy him also understand exactly what that means.

However, now that you stood right in front of him, he found himself completely powerless.

Everything else around him seemed out of focus as he stared at you— You had changed, of course, but there was no mistake that his soul recognized that it was truly you.

Your smile was as breathtaking as when he had seen it for the first time and the sound of your laughter made his heart soar in a way it hadn't in a long time. You were even more beautiful than he remembered.

Sylus is not a fool. But he feels rather foolish right now.

Your words, your eyes, your body, your soul were completely rejecting him as he grasped your wrist to prevent you from retaliating again.

Perhaps he had approached the situation wrongly. Or maybe he had been too hopeful, too desperate, about finally having you next to him again.

"It's still me," he wished to say as his crimson eyes searched yours for any sign that you didn't despise his very presence "it's your Sylus."

He acted confident, proud was the man. Except he wasn't. Each jab towards how little you thought of him and the lack of trust between the two of you caused his frail heart to fall apart, one by one the pieces would shatter like glass.

Sylus is a weak man. You molded his heart with your very own hands and now those same hands were the ones crushing it. Was he no longer worthy of your kindness?

He had ripped his own scales, learned how to walk without his wings to support him when he fell and kept his mouth closed to prevent his 'ugly' fangs from being seen. 'Was it not enough? Was he no longer your dragon?'

Still, if only by being a villain in your story is how he is allowed to remain in your new life then he will play the part. He will accept the harsh words and make it easier for you when you need to hurt him.

"Please...Just once," He'd silently plead as you glared at him and pressed the gun further against his chest "look at me the same way you used to. I'm right here."

[umbrelladripdrop]

Don't your taste buds change as you grow up? Like not by a lot and not very quickly, but enough so that something you had at 5 years old isn't going to taste the exact same as when you have it again at 15 years old.

So what if the reason he can't make the dish right is because he physically can't taste it the same as he once did.

Jason grew up, he grew up too fast and had the innocence beaten out of him before he even went into that warehouse as Robin, and in doing so he lost every ounce of childhood wonder he used to have. So much so that he can't even enjoy the taste of his mother's cooking, just the memory and temptation and failure that comes with every time he tries to recreate it.

I have this very self-indulgent headcanon that, despite all Jason's genius cooking, there is one recipe he can't recreate, no matter how hard hard he tries, and it frustrates him. It is not even a hard one. In fact, it is the simplest dish in the world... and still, he fails to find the right way to bring it back to life.

You see, back in the time, before Willis got arrested, Catherine was more or less functional kind of mother. Yes, they didn't have any kind of luxury — they lived in the same street, in the same dishevelled house, with their clothes old, sewed back countless amount of times — but they survived. Willis brought money back home, and more often than not, Jason had a full stomach. And Catherine cooked to him.

Every dinner, she brought him the same yellow scrapped plate with warm, salty pasta. She always smiled shyly, as if trying not to burst with apologises for the repetitive meal they could afford, but Jason didn't mind. He loved it. It was warm, it was tasty. It was everything he wanted.

And then, Willis got in prison, Catherine fell a victim of addiction, and Jason... and Jason didn't eat anything like that for a long time. And when he finally did, thanks to Bruce and Alfred, it tasted differently. Not bad, not at all... just differently.

For years, he tried to recreate his mother's recipe (Catherine didn't even do anything special — she boiled a water, she added a salt, nothing special) and all fruitless. He died, got back — and still! Still no success.

What is it that his attempts are lacking? Why can't he cook it?

He lost so many memories along his way, but this one — this exact taste on the tip of his tongue — he could never throw away, even if he tried.

So, he tries, tries, tries-

And never succeeds.

[tripleasworld]

Mumbos lore has so much angst potential I mean th computer in wich he wants to upload himself probably has a screen aand we know mumbo so it will probably have a mustache.

Now remember wich living computer also has a mustache and is closely related to mumbo lore? Right grumbot.

Now whatever you do don't imagine grumbot beeing mumbo who traveled trough space and time to ether make sure he will exist or because he's lonely and wants to meet his friends again.

[strawlessandbraless]

The way Cas was so immediately whipped for Dean Winchester

Like here, take this angel blade. It can kill any angel, including myself

I carved protective sigils into your ribs, you’ll be hidden from any angel including myself

I will rebel for you. Against god, against heaven, against my fellow angels, and against who I once was

I’ll take on your brother’s trauma, I’ll get you out of purgatory, I’ll abandon armies for you, I’ll pull you back from being a demon, I’ll be here protecting you even when we’re the last two people on earth, I’ll face the Darkness for you, the Devil, Death and the Empty. I’ll love you even if it kills me.

[wolfchans]

[awingedinsect]

I can’t hold myself together.

[biarthurpendragon]

Do we think merlin has perfect memory? I’ve always wondered if with time, he starts to forget the little things.

First, he forgets the songs they’d play at feasts in Camelot, each one fading into melodies that all sound the same.

Next, he forgets the taste of the porridge Gaius fed him every morning. The grain becomes much finer, and there’s something missing even when he tries to recreate it.

Then, slowly, the bigger things start vanishing. He starts to forget what Gwen’s favorite flower was. Was it lilacs or lilies? What about the sound of her voice? Her laughter? It all begins to become fragile, vanishing from his mind slowly.

He writes down what he can remember, of course. Searches for magical ways to perfect his memories m. No spells exist that can turn back time and make him remember it all, though.

All his power and yet, time takes and takes from him. The strangest day is when he begins to forget the exact shade of Arthur’s hair: was it golden like sunflowers, bright yellow, or muted like honey? Did it feel as soft as silk or was it like cotton thread?

The memories fade and he waits, waits until he can know it all again. After all, when Arthur comes back, Merlin can ask him all that he’s forgotten.

[helluvagirlboss]

Hey I have a question…does Blitz know where his mom is buried?

Did he go to her funeral at all? Or did he refrain from going because he assumed nobody wanted him there?

Because let me tell you, if it gets confirmed at any point either in the next episode or any episode later down the line that Blitz didn’t go to her funeral and therefore never got to properly say goodbye, that will do unspeakable amounts of emotional damage to my psyche.

[portinastorm]

Tommy adding his name to the "can work double shifts if needed over Christmas" list because he'll only be spending it alone. Again.

[cyantt-does-stuff]

Isn't it cruel how some parallels are usually just the past repeating itself?

[karl-von-moor-official]

Ok but consider: A production of Hamlet that starts with the last scene and then Horatio has to play his role in the rest of the play, but he’s still completely dissolved in tears. Everyone else is oblivious and he has to keep it together for the sake of storytelling, but his voice cracks as he says “I think I saw him yesternight”, regret filling his tone, and he frantically holds on to Hamlet as he begs him not to follow the ghost; he practically chokes on his words as he shouts, “Be rul’d!” And he knows it’s no use, but he’s so reluctant to play his part in this and he can barely keep his emotions at bay. And then the end of the story draws nearer. He takes longer and longer to say his lines. He hesitates, tries to stretch out the little time he’s got left with Hamlet. He doesn’t want to be in this narrative, but he is. Until finally, as Hamlet decides to duel Laertes, Horatio simply gives up. Reluctantly, but knowingly, he accepts the fact that there’s nothing he can do but play his part and relive it all, just to honor Hamlet’s legacy and story. And Hamlet dies in his arms a second time.

[morphean42]

Whatever you do don’t imagine Jason on his birthday sometime in his 30s/40s realising he’s older than Whizzer or his dad ever got to be

[somewhere-in-wales]

You know what I was just thinking about? That feeling when you fall hard for someone you can't have.

And every time you see them your heart jumps. You drop EVERYTHING for a chance to spend time with them. Hearing from them lights you up, and your life can be divided between the time you get to spend with them and the time spent waiting to be with them again.

That agonising, heartbreaking, soul-crushing feeling of having fallen so deep that you can't see a way out, and you don't even want to.

Now imagine that going on for hundreds of years.

And then, when it finally looks like there might be a way out, together, it gets ripped away.

I was just thinking about that.

[deadsetobsessions]

What’s in a cape, but the hopes and dreams of the one who bears it?

What’s in a cape, but shelter and warmth for those that receive its protection?

What’s in a hero suit, but a person that’s determined to die in it?

——

Long before Danny Phantom died in his hazmat suit, Bruce Wayne donned his cowl to dive between Gotham and the bullets with faces engraved on them. His cape began to signify fear, for those that harmed Gotham knowingly. But for the rest, it became a sign of protection, of promised vengeance against the crime committed.

And for a select few, the cape was a shelter during cold and rainy patrols. For Tim Drake, the third Robin, it was a warmth he’d never experience past those moments.

When Danny Fenton became Danny Phantom, he’d had wanted to have a cape like the crusader.

Danny wasn’t sure if he wanted to shelter or be sheltered.

But eventually, as things escalated and Danny found himself with less time for normal, personal things, that wish shuddered to an ember. After all, Danny had learned that he doesn’t get the luxury of protection. Not anymore. Which meant he had to be the one doing the protecting. A thousand miles away, as Danny came to terms with it on a clear Amity night, Robin was huddled beneath Batman’s cape to shelter from the pelting rain that came often with Gotham’s gloom.

When Danny got pulled along, invisible and attached to Robin’s side as the vigilante got thrown into a prison, he witnessed Robin talk to his evil older Batman self.

He’s visible again before he knew it, startling the two versions of Robins. Ice slammed into the Robin that became Batman as memories rung through Danny’s head. Where Robin was, stood himself. Where the Evil Robin Batman laid on the floor, covered in glowing ice, was Dan.

Danny died, and became a hero. He just had the unfortunate luck to live to see himself become the villain.

He would never allow Robin to go through it alone, not when Danny had his family and friends to fall back on. Robin, in this cage, ripped away from his team and in the midst of an argument with Batman, was painfully so.

“I’m Phantom.” Danny introduced himself. “Looked like you were in a bit of a spot. I’m sorry for butting in, if you wanted to take care of him yourself.”

“Robin.” Robin was wary. That’s okay. “How are you here?”

“That one’s on you, actually.” Danny glanced around. “Let’s get out of here before edgy future you wakes up. The ice won’t melt, and it’ll be hard to break, but I honestly don’t want to stick around for him to wake up.”

“Can you move him?” Robin eyed their cell contemplatively.

“Sure.”

——

“That seemed personal, earlier.”

Danny nodded. “Yeah. Had the displeasure of meeting an alternate evil version of myself that lost everyone I loved. Kind of hit a sore spot there.”

“…right.”

“No worries, you’re good. My friends and family promised to stay away from explosive sauce.”

“That’s good. So… where do you live?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?” Danny somersaulted in space next to Robin’s jerryrigged space ship. “Anyways, we’re friends now, so I’ll make sure you don’t live to see yourself become a villain.”

“See, that sounded like a threat.”

“It’s not! I don’t kill! And besides, if you were dead, you’d probably be a ghost, and you’d kick my ass for killing you!”

“Are you implying you’re dead?”

“Not an implication. I’m dead. Kind of. Half. I’m still breathing even if I kind of don’t need to. So, where are your friends?”

Danny will be damned before he let his new friends die in their suits, even if they make the job incredibly hard for him. After all, there’s only room for one dead hero on the team, and that’s him.

[youarebeingshaggedbyarareparrot]

Do you ever think Kon looks at Damian and his heart breaks?

Because here’s another boy, another heir born and raised in secret away from the most important man in his life, his father. Raised to be little more than tool and a weapon. Another boy built from stolen DNA. Another boy who had no childhood.

And he’s found.

He’s discovered. And he gets brought home. He has a family, brothers, to fight with him and would kill for him, the bat code be damned. He has a father who tries to understand him and who loves him fiercely regardless. He has a home that will always be open to him, people who will always look out for him and pick him up if he ever falls.

Do you think Kon ever looks at Damian and his heart breaks because he’s so happy this little boy was saved, no questions, no caveats.

He just wonders why he wasn’t.

[starshineswirl]

I lowkey hate that it’s assumed that Keith and Adam’s relationship fell apart after Shiro died at Kerberos. Because yes, Keith is an angry person and yes, he would have been absolutely furious and full of rage at times after hearing the news.

But. Grief is messy and complicated and we have to assume that there were some days where he was hurting and scared and vulnerable.

And that’s where Adam comes in.

Because really, all they had left of Shiro was each other. There had to be times where they hugged and comforted each other. Times where Adam dried Keith’s tears and pressed kisses to his hair in hopes that it could show Keith that everything would be okay. Times where Keith made dinner or cleaned the apartment when Adam was too depressed to do it himself.

I have to assume that Keith was particularly clingy with Adam some days too — especially after nightmares hit or the days that followed the memorial service. And when he got that scared and vulnerable, he would stick by Adam’s side the whole day or crawl into bed beside him. All because he needed to seek out Adam’s comfort and — more importantly — his security. 

Because, really. This boy lost his mother.

His father.

His brother.

I have to assume he sure as hell wasn’t about to lose Adam too.