#this was so miserable to write

[minorisato]

that's your face -> wait, i see a weapon now

transformers / wheelratch / wc: 767 / warnings: NSFT, intox / notes: written for kinktober day 12, "aphrodisiacs." i really hated writing this tbh. i'm also kinda stretching the prompt but. synthen. / consider commissioning me!

"You've gotta do something about it," Arcee scowls. "He's driving all of us fragging crazy. He keeps insisting that he's 'almost got it right' but all it's doing is getting him more coiled up with no recharge." She folds her arms. "If he tries to throw Bulkhead through a wall again, I think things are going to get a lot worse."

She says this, and there's a warning edge to her voice, but all Wheeljack can do is laugh. Ratchet? Throw Bulkhead through a wall? She must be exaggerating.

Upon entering the medbay, though, he realizes she might have actually been underselling how bad it is. Normally so neat and orderly, Ratchet had thrown datapads and materials all over, as though he tossed aside what he wasn't using like it was garbage. The aforementioned ambulance was huddled over his desk, helm in his servos, groaning, like he was trying exceptionally hard to think of something. Wheeljack made his way to the medic, wading through the destroyed medbay, and tapped Ratchet on the shoulder.

The medic immediately jumps, turning around, and hey, weren't his optics blue before? Ratchet's optics widen momentarily upon seeing him, before he squints, a frown growing on his faceplates. "What do you want?" He asks, clearly displeased that Wheeljack was even in his presence.

Even in a situation like this, Wheeljack can't help but smirk. "I can't come see how my favourite docbot is doing?"

Ratchet lets out a groan, faceplates twitching. "Wheeljack, as politefully as I can say this, I do not have time for whatever nonsense you are about to start."

"Ouch," Wheeljack huffs. "Hurtin' my spark over here, Ratch." And then, in one of his less intelligent moments, he gets a little closer, attempting to hug the mech. "C'mon, let Jackie help you relax-"

And it is as Wheeljack says this that Ratchet shoves him- not a light push but a real full-force shove, throwing the wrecker, the wrecker, the mech who is at least double Ratchet's weight, back into the wall. Into the wall. And it makes a loud thud noise. Wheeljack is certain that this caused something somewhere in the medbay to fall over and break, but Ratchet doesn't seem to care one bit.

"Holy shit," Wheeljack lets out, and he's uncertain why, but he feels his cooling fans click on. Ratchet- little I'm a healer Ratchet- just threw him into a wall, and he's kinda turned on about that. You learn something new about yourself every day, he supposes.

"If you really want to help me," Ratchet tells him through gritted dentae, "you can start by getting out of my medbay."

"Hey, hey," Wheeljack starts, raising himself up from where he had crashed. When Arcee asked him to do something, he wasn't really certain what he was gonna do, but he's starting to get an idea. "Look, I'm just here to help you chill out, sunshine." Ratchet squints at him, and he continues. "You're real worked up, and it's messin' with your work, right? The sooner you let me help you out, the sooner you can get back to your important work."

Wheeljack is entirely talking out of his aft, because he isn't actually certain what Ratchet's important work is (something about false energon?) though Ratchet does seem to actually consider it. After a moment, he heaves an exvent. "Fine. Fine," he says, "what is your brilliant idea to get me to relax."

"Well, hey," Wheeljack begins with a smirk, steadily approaching the shorter, "I know a real good way that you and me can work out some of that tension real quick." He leans down, his own helm inches away from Ratchet's, vocals low. "If you think you can handle it, that is."

Ratchet scoffs, smirking up at him in turn. "You're suggesting we...?"

"Been a while," Wheeljack says, his expression softening a bit. He moves a servo to be placed on Ratchet's waist, but right as he does, the medic grabs him, flipping them and maneuvering them so that Wheeljack's back is touching Ratchet's work desk. It's a bit of strange angle, but a firm servo on his chassis from Ratchet keeps him pinned there. "Primus, Ratch."

"Cute suggestion," the medic tells him, and positions himself so that he's almost straddling the wrecker, with one leg strut wrapping slightly around his hips, the other one on the ground still, keeping him balanced. "I'll be driving though, if you don't mind."

With the way Ratchet is looking down at him, Wheeljack might let him do just about anything. "Yeah," Wheeljack lets out, "yeah, doc, go for it."

[cosmicredcadet]

enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.

[ravengards-rogue]

i thought of you so often.

arthur morgan x reader.

✧ tags : fem!reader (gendered language, explicit use of she/her in reference to reader), children / planning on children, generally sappiness, fluff, au where nothing bad happens to arthur hdskjsdkfhsj.

✧ wc : 2.4k (???)

✧ a/n : arthur morgan.... save me arthur morgan....also not a super original thought but i can't Stop thinking about it.

✧ synopsis : a collection of love letters, all unfinished, tucked somewhere you aren't meant to find them. oh, arthur loves you more than you knew.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

You try to keep out of Arthur's belongings.

He's owed some privacy, for one. More than that, you've never felt any reason to look into it. Arthur isn't a man of many words, though you catch moments of his introspection should you pry. He isn't stoic, neither. And above all things, he's kind. Really truly kind in a way that makes him different from other men.

You don't have any complaints about him is what you mean. Unlike the men you've loved before, there are no short-comings of Arthur that would drive you to wanting to investigate his own personal things. Especially something so personal like his journals, prior or present.

On top of that, you were there with him through everything. You were part of the gang and stayed by him when it all fell apart. It was towards the end of that that Arthur came to you near frenzied, told you his plans, his thoughts. Confided in you and no less than begged to go with him where he ran.

You loved Arthur enough to stay, and so things ended - and you ran. There isn't much his journal could tell that you couldn't surmise on your own.

It's been years now, and you've long since left that life. You live with Arthur quietly, peaceful in the moments with a garden and kitty sweet as sugar.

It's a good life. An honest, quiet one sometimes to the point of being boring. You rarely miss the action, though occasionally you'll take up a bounty just to feel alive and make some money.

Mostly though, you live as unassuming folk. No bloodshed, no wardens, no gunslinging.

Been talk between you both about having a baby, recently. Serious talk. You've made some money between here and there, and you've got a good life. You've traveled too. But it gets a little lonely, and you don't really get your fill with just Jack when John and Abi are ways away.

Before anything like that, though - you need to clear some space. Empty out some belongings and things collecting dust. Living in one place for too long creates all sorts of mess, you find. When Arthur is home to help, he does - but he's been busy lately figuring something out with Charles. Some business venture related to ranching that you know nothing about so far. They'll tell you when its ready.

Usually when you're tidying, you keep to just your things, or your shared things - but Arthur has lived more life than you. It shows in that big closet space filled with nick-knacks he has yet to toss.

You'd mentioned it to him not too long ago and he'd given you permission to go through them.

(A kiss to your forehead from chapped lips and hands holding your waist, Arthur hums in acknowledgement as you ask his permission.

"Ain't nothing I gotta hide from you. Do whatever you need.)

But like you said - you try to keep your nose out of his business if it's not necessary for you to be in it in anyway.

You weren't trying to look through his things, really. You started cleaning, worked your way to that last box. Up on a shelf in his closet, a little too high for you to reach easily. You made a misstep and dropped the damn thing. It barely missed your head as the whole thing fell open, and out came journals and papers and photographs.

You've always known Arthur to be sentimental, so none of it has been particularly surprising. A photo of wolves and him on a horse, the picture from John and Abigail's engagement. Some other scraps of sentimental value.

And then there was a journal. Not Arthur's journal that he's always using, but another you've never seen before. You know Arthur journals, seen the thing plenty though you never look unless he shows you first.

A journal with a dark brown stained leather binding, fallen open and your name scrawled out in pencil lead at the top of it.

The curiosity got the better of you, okay? Not your damn fault.

So you're thinking on it.

The fabric of your skirt is pooled out underneath you as you hold the thing in your hands, sitting down on the ground surrounded by things. You've stowed away everything else that fell out from the box after ensuring it was intact, including Arthur's journals. Everything with the exception of the one you're holding.

Some guilt eats at you. You don't wanna upset him potentially by having looked. Even if he gave you permission, looking in the damn thing is a little different. But your name was there so clearly, and well - you didn't think he wrote about you. Apart from here and there, maybe.

You hold the book out in front of you with a sigh, looking fondly at his name ingrained in the leather. You press your forehead against it with, resigning yourself completely.

"Lord forgive my pryin'," You mumble, hoping it's enough to absolve you.

Your heart feels funny as you let your fingers trace over the hard edge of the front cover, one eye shut as you start to open it slow.

The first few pages are nothing special.

A page outlining who the journal belongs to and when it was started, and some doodles of yarrow and oleander. The pages after that filled with mundane entries. About people he met or things he saw, all endearing to you. The corners of your lips tug up slightly.

You really love this man helplessly.

You flip through a few more pages, many of them blank before writing starts to appear again. Little by little, you find passages. You look to the dates up at the corner (though not all of them have one) and trace the timeline. This is from all the way back in Horseshoe Overlook.

It feels like ages ago now.

You look at a page with no date, and reading the writing in it. There's doodles of flowers and trees along the bottom of the page. The words are easy enough to make out - because Arthur has the most unusually beautiful handwriting.

There's some entries about you. At first, they all include your name in some context. Mentioned in the same way Arthur might mention Hosea or Abigail. The further you go, the less you see it. The more you become her and she.

It's a trend. The longer you read, the less there is about anyone else. Just you and all your silly idiosyncrasies tucked between pages. Something lovestruck and foolish lights its match in you.

Saw a body hanging at the tracks at Valentine. A gruesome sight. I told her about it and she laughed. Asked me to take her to see it. A strange woman, by all accounts.

You feel yourself smile a little as you continue to flip through the pages.

She joined me riding into town today. Said she had some business to attend but would not tell me any details. After, she came with me to purchase a new gun. I engraved a snake into it's handle, per her request.

Another few pages littered with drawings of delicate berries and waterfalls before you stumble across more writing. The more you flip, the longer the passages become you.

You can't tear your eyes away.

Rained today. Nothing too terrible or worth mentioning, except that she nearly caught a cold playing in it. I brought her coffee to keep her warm, but could not scold her further upon seeing her delight.

Another passage, this time written with messier hand writing. A coffee stain splatters on the white of the page.

Your heart tugs on itself. Swells about a thousand sizes. To think he wrote so much of your time together between these pages.

You read and read and read - and each passage is a little more mundane at the last. Some pages go on in vivid detail, but others are so short you aren't sure what to make of the fact he wrote them at all. As if such little details were important enough to keep in mind.

I picked a flower for her. I thought it would suit her taste. It was white with delicate petals. I did not know the name.

She wore it in her hair this evening. I find I can't stop grinning.

One passage on the next few pages, longer than the rest, catches your eye. From later in your time together, written when you were in Leymone. Near Scarlett Meadows and before the mess in Saint Denis.

After Arthur had been kidnapped.

I have gone on and on about the business with Colm O'Driscoll in many entries before this one. Yet, I find it difficult to forget. Many times I have come close to death, and still no experience lingers on my mind quite like this one. Everyone has done their best to look after me. For that I am grateful, though I do not care for being looked after. What use am I like this, I wonder? Perhaps, I should simply be grateful to be alive and in one piece, if a little uglier than I was. Alongside Miss Grimshaw and Miss Tilly, she has been by my side while I recovered. Such a carefree woman and yet I have seen her cry and weep over me countless times in the last few weeks alone. The decent man in me is apologetic for causing sorrow. Perhaps, it is the outlaw in me that feels some strange relief or satisfaction. Her fussing does not give me any grief. If anything, I find myself all the more endeared. Such a decent woman does not belong in a place like this. I hope she is able to go somewhere far away and live peacefully. I am not so shameless to want anything more. The time together we have spent, I will make sure to cherish.

Something painful and pitiful tugs at your heart. Even when Arthur admitted his feelings for you, he had started it on a similar tangent. You tell him often that you're the one who feels out of bounds with him. That a man as decent and as honest as him often feels like too much for you to have so easily.

A tear slips from your eye and you laugh at your own sentimentality, wiping it away before it can splatter onto the pages.

The further you read, the more sporadic entries become. You find that there are pages filled with sketches of you, but many of them are scratched out or half erased - like he did not find them good enough. Of your side profile, of your hands, of you pointing at a target with a gun. You feel a strange feeling of love wash over you.

Instead of concrete thoughts, you're met with Arthur's abstract. Subtle complexities and studies. There's honest tenderness in the way he sketches you and the words he chooses to caption each with. Lighter, thinner lines. Smaller doodles like stray daydreams caught onto a page.

You've never doubted Arthur in his love for you, quiet man he is - but it proves to overwhelm when presented to you in such a way.

You get to back pages. There, you're finally met with more writing. Except, instead of journal entries, there's the start of letters. You find your name at the top of the page.

Over and over. Love letters, all unfinished or scrapped. Written over and over and over, but not completed. There's tens of them at least. You've never received a love letter from Arthur before, though it's nothing you fault him for.

Now you're almost glad. You like this much better.

My darling girl My muse The better half of me, I must find some way to tell you all of what I think of you. It seems no words do it justice, I'm afraid. Still, it is in my best interest to try.

Damn that man.

When you find yourself starting to weep, you don't fight the feeling. You merely shut the book closed and set it in your lap before crying into your hands.

Such overwhelmingly happy tears. You feel off balance. If the whole world turned on its head this very minute, you're unsure you'd notice. What a decent, honest man you've come to love. What a tender one.

In the middle of your crying, you don't hear the door open or close. Nor do you hear Arthur's heavy footfall until he's in the doorway, with a voice worried half to death.

"Sweetheart, what in the hell?"

You turn your head to look at him, watching his eyes widen at your tear stained face. You clamber to your feet hurriedly, book dropping onto the ground next to you as you throw yourself at him as soon as you can.

Arthur is a steady enough man not to stumble when you do, though you can feel his apprehension. Eventually, he circles his arms around your waist. His hugs are strong. Bout strong as him and then some. An arm wrapped around your waist, the other crossed over your back all around your shoulder. Full pressure as he squeezes you tight, patting the back of your head.

"I leave you alone for a few hours. What has gotten into you, little lady?"

You pull back and and look at him, wet lashes and all, before leaning up to kiss him. Arthur meets your lips chastely at first before making a noise of surprise as you kiss him further. You use both hands to grab his face as you do, scruff scratching against your skin. His lips are soft, welcoming. He melts into the touch, so easily - blue eyes lovestruck as you pull away.

"You know I love you, don't you Arthur? More than anyone in this crazy world we live in,"

His face softens visibly. He smiles at you, touching his head to yours.

"Somehow, I do. Though, I'm wonderin' what the hell brought this on."

You tuck your face against his chest, feeling his laughter reverb through you at the way you cling to him so fervently. You sniffle as you talk.

"Found your journal. The one about me,"

He goes stiff, then silent. When you look up again, he's blushing red. He pinches his brow.

"Lord, I'd forgotten all about it,"

You shake your head.

"Ain't nothing for you to be embarrassed about. You are so wonderful,"

He pouts at you. Your heart swells. "You ain't helping with the embarrassment."

You hold him further. Hug him so tight, worried he'll disappear if you don't.

"I love you, Arthur."

"You already told me once, didn'tcha?"

"And I'll tell you one thousand times over," You emphasize, pouting at him. "Really. I love you,"

"I love you too sweetheart," His hand cups your face, thumb brushing along your waterline. "Don't cry no more. Spoils that pretty face."

"I'll try but I don't know if it's all out of me,"

Arthur laughs, pressing a kiss against your hairline. "Guess I'll just have to wipe your tears."

.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚｡⋆

[juney-blues]

if i write hard enough i'll finally come up with the post that expertly skewers some of the transmisogynistic shit i see on here so hard that everyone realises it's stupid and learns their lesson and i never have to see another post like it again. just one more post june just one more post come on. keep making yourself miserable i'm sure you'll get through to them with this one, #neverstopposting

[casually-eat-my-soul]

I keep thinking about jealous pining desperate Stiles and Derek

But like specifically Stiles Seeing Derek kiss someone else.

Stiles goes to visit Derek at his loft and he walks into a scene from a hallmark movie. Derek is kissing some random women under fairy lights to the back drop of a sunset. Stiles feels like someone plunged their hand through his heart and infected with body with ice. He genuinely feels sick to his stomach.

Derek looks down at said person with a soft smile, thinking that this time he can be safe. Before turning and seeing Stiles. They lock eyes and stiles is so visibly distraught. Like in the “where’s my dad scene”. One tear sliding down his face, hands clenched, grasping at his chest as if to rip his heart out.

And Derek knows he fucked up, but he doesn’t know how. All he sees is Stiles in distress and he needs to fix it. Stiles base scent has changed in a split second, now deeply intertwined with misery. He immediately moves from his love interest towards Stiles. But Stiles won’t let Derek comfort him. When Derek grasps his wrists, He tries to pull away.

Stiles is inconsolable at this point, choking on his sobs, barely able to breathe, barely able to see. This only makes Derek more desperate, he’s trying to pull stiles into a hug but Stiles keeps fighting him. Derek’s mind is racing with an explain on why stiles is falling apart in front of him. He thinks of Scott and the sheriff, praying that they are both still alive. He’s now genuinely begging stiles to let him help, to tell him what’s wrong, but stiles keeps pushing Derek away.

Derek’s love interest moves to help but stiles screams when she touches him. In his shock Derek stumbles away from Stiles, but not before ripping her arm off of Stiles.

The room freezes as the both of them are just staring at each other, stiles still sobbing, Derek shaking with adrenaline or fear he doesn’t know. Before Stiles turns and runs out of his loft.

And then nothing is like it used to be. Not like the summer they spent together, not even like the days of when they first met. Stiles is so different with him. Derek can’t remember the last time he saw stiles smile, or his eyes. All he can see is the eyebags that match his own and bitten bloody lips. He barely speaks to Derek and when he does is tone is soft and flat. They no longer banter back and forth with each other exchanging friendly insults. He is a ghost of the stiles that Derek knew.

Stiles doesn’t reach out and touch him anymore, not in camaraderie or comfort. Derek’s skin is devoid of stiles scent. His scent hasn’t changed from that night, now overcome with depression, pain, and tears. But even so Derek would still prefer to carry it with him. Derek feels like he is watching stiles die.

And Derek is ripping his hair out of his skull. He going insane. He has tried to talk to stiles but at meetings Stiles wouldn’t even look at him, and the Stilinski house has been lined with wolfsbane.

He goes to Scott and Lydia for advice, or understanding, fuck at this point he’d even take a stupid riddle. But scott just twists his lips in disappointment while Lydia glares at him with more hatred than she does Peter. Which is really saying something.

Derek is getting more frantic as days pass and nothing changes. It’s starting to affect the pack. The betas are more snappy and uncomfortable. Derek, himself is having a had time keeping his shift under control. Anger isn’t helping, if only it’s making it worse, more feral.

This costs Derek.

One night when the pack is fighting the next big bad. Derek’s sleepless nights and being distracted nearly gets him killed. He only wishes he could go back to that day, he would spend it, from sunrise to sunset with Stiles. Just making him laugh and smile.

The last thing he sees before he collapses is Stiles eyes in the moonlight, glistening with tears, same as that night. Beautiful all the same. But still Derek smiles. He is at peace knowing that this will be the last thing he sees.

But he wakes up, and all he has of stiles is traces of his scent on his skin. Derek roars in anguish. He can feel his betas trying to hold him down, he can hear them screaming but it all fades to white noise. He understands nothing at this current moment but loss. His wolf won’t stop howling.

He doesn’t fight the pull of the wolf, as he falls under his instincts. At the back of his head he knows that the people he is fighting are his pack mate, his own betas. The smell of blood affronts his senses. But nothing can be felt but violent grief.

The wolves in his den are wary and hesitant to fight him, as they should be. He can hear more wolves coming, and the deafening heartbeat of prey. He snarls at the prey that moves closer to him, fulling intending the go for the kill. As he pounces on the prey pressing him to the ground, teeth reaching to sink into his neck, he feels Stiles hands on his chest and he stops. The scent of Stiles is all around him, and Derek presses his face to his neck. Keeping Stiles pinned to the ground.

Thus way stiles cannot escape, cannot leave Derek grappling with the thought of losing him. Another wolf tries to get closer, reaching for stiles but Derek snarls at him. Stiles talks to the wolf, —

“Don’t worry about it Scotty, I got it from here”

“You sure dude?”

“Yeah, take the wonder trio and get out of here. We’re good.”

— as Derek pulls him into his lap, face still pressed into the junction between neck and shoulder. Not even willing to miss even the vibrations of Stiles voice. The wolves leave and Derek can finally relax and enjoy the presence of Stiles.

Derek feels overwhelmed, after weeks of not interacting with Stiles he is now surrounded by him. His hands run through Derek’s hair, his voice floats in the air, his scent finally intermingling with his own. This idea of losing the heat of stiles body pressed against his, makes Derek pull stiles even closer.

He doesn’t know how long they sit together but when he comes out of the fog. Derek breaks. A complete reversal of the night he lost stiles. Derek is crying in ernest, pleading and apologizing over and over again. Stiles is hesitant when he places his hands on Derek cheek. But when Derek leans into it Stiles begins to wipe the tears from his face.

They both face each other with open expressions. Stiles struggles to finds words to explain to Derek but all he can get out is a broken repeat of Derek’s own apology.

Derek felt as if his heart couldn’t know anymore pain, but as Stiles choked out an apology he could feel another piece break. Derek was just relived that stiles was finally letting him comfort him. Derek pressed their foreheads together and took a deep breath. Waiting for stiles to following along with his breathing. When they both calmed down stiles Slumped exhausted into his chest. With a heavy limbs Derek picked him up and carried him to the bed. Derek’s bed.

Neither of them need to speak durning this time. Derek was reluctant to set Stiles down, to let go for even a second. Instead he settled for watching Stiles as they both undressed and fell into the bed. Finally after weeks of sleepless nights, unrest and nightmares, they both full asleep wrapped in each others arms.

Derek refuse to open his eyes when he awakes. Afraid that when he does, Stiles will be gone and this would be a cruel dream. So he keeps them closed even when he hear Stiles breathe hitch. Even as he hears his heartbeat pick up. Even as stiles trails his fingers over Derek’s face. But he does open them as stiles presses a kiss to his lips.

Derek kisses him back just as fiercely. And this leads to teary confessions — “Don’t fucking lie to me Derek please, I can’t take it, don’t fucking kiss me out of pity.”

“Never out of pity, Mi Vida, I never wish to part from you even again, I love you, Mieczyslaw, truly. I can finally breathe again.” — They spend the day in bed, only leaving to eat. Even then they are always touching the other in some way.

After this Scott and Lydia pull Derek aside and threaten him with extreme violence. Peter joyfully welcomes stiles to the family.

(Honestly this was a whole train wreck. I also had another idea/version where this was happening during the nogistune. Where Stiles goes over to Derek’s loft as the darkness around his heart fills heavier that day and he sees Derek kiss someone else. The this is what finally pushes stiles over and allows the nogistune to fully take over. And Derek is forced to listen to the fox gleefully tell him that this action nearly broke Stiles. That while turning feral Derek has to learn that his actions cost him another person he loves. That because of this stiles and Derek are turning into twisted version of themselves. But honestly a fox should have never underestimated how far a wolf would go for their mate)

My bad for the long post but if you made it to the end, welcome to the trenches and suffering in the misery with me.

[fruity-pontmercy]

look, I'm a tired demographics student with too much time on their hands and an undying love for polls, so..

I'm also deeply interested in fandom demographics... from my 4 long long (yet relatively short) years in this fandom I've noticed that the Les Mis fanbase does tend to be older than other fandoms I've been in, (though this obviously depends on the platform you're on, for example, the falsettos fandom on tiktok seems to have a lot of 12-15 year olds, to my great surprise) and I just like analysing why that is! I know other fandoms have/have had sort of "fandom demographics" polls which I've always found super interesting... while I'm not necessarily trying to recreate that, I do find this interesting to look at!

Needless to say the more people see this the more representative and accurate the results will be so PLEASEEE reblog thiss and make my little demographer-to-be heart happy

[babyb1ues]

There’s something to be said about people with a lost gaze.

You haven’t known Xavier for long. Don’t know much about him either. He’s a co-worker and a neighbor. He is quiet and polite, and mostly keeps to himself. The neighbors are wary about him—whether it’s his presence or lack thereof. He doesn’t seem to have many friends; any, really. You’ve asked around the office, and despite his known skills people draw blanks when you mention his name. Nothing beyond he’s strong and he’s quiet. Many I don’t know’s and nothing concrete. 

You don’t know him that well. When he speaks he does so in vague statements, secretly woven riddles only he understands. There’s a barely hidden mirth when he does, and you indulge him, for it’s the few times his eyes look alive. He also has a knack for coming and going—living in the inbetween. He drifts by, like a shoe in a current or a ghost in a house. A master of apparitions and mystery. He returns to an empty house, tired and barely on his feet, and when he leaves he does so when the world is asleep and unaware. He comes and he goes and nobody notices. If he were to never return, perhaps you’d be one of the few to know. When time fades, perhaps the only one to remember.

You don’t know him that well. But sometimes he gets strange. Hazy eyes and slow blinks, as if he was in the center of a forgotten dream. His features are placid, peaceful, otherworldly, in a way—not just his beauty, but the look of his face, like he isn’t sure if he’s still on earth. There’s a distant quality to it, like he’s too far away and out of reach, way out of orbit. Slipping through your fingers, no matter how much they try to grasp. You live here and he lives there, eons apart. Maybe in another universe, you think, you came to know the depths of his mind, let you learn the contours of his soul.

He’s so kind, so polite. He keeps the murkiness trapped in webs and shrugs it off with a small quirk of his mouth. Doesn’t acknowledge and doesn’t explain. You wonder what world resides inside his head—what’s the absence that resides in his chest. 

“You look lost,” is what you want to tell him. “You wear melancholy like a second skin.”  With eyes of the clear sky and yet he’s more akin to a gray, cloudy day. He looks at you and gets lost in something, inside his own self. His eyes phase you over. He looks at you and you wonder what he’s really looking at. 

It’s not you.

[clovariia]

hasbro is killing g5 mlp, which means it's officially my city now...say hello to my new and suspiciously familiar "ocs"

[necrotic-nephilim]

@sasheneskywalker i love when you enable me to ramble about things because oh my god do i have thoughts.

so recently, i made a post discussing the phenomena of DC x DP and DC x MLB crossovers and why they exist and part of that post was discussing how largely speaking, at least half, if not more of the Batfamily fandom doesn't read the comics. if they interact with canon DC material, it's adaptations that are their own sequestered universes and oftentimes not remotely comic accurate or seeking to be. the most obvious example is the Young Justice cartoon. i'm adding a cut to this post because it just got so long i'm so sorry.

a lot of times, when people are discussing the "why" of this oversaturation of fanon-only fandom, they blame Wayne Family Adventures. and i think, to a point, i agree WFA is responsible for a boom in this fandom. but as someone who's been in the fandom long before we had WFA, to me it's the other way around. WFA was DC's way of meeting the demand for this easy-to-get-into, easy-to-consume content about the Batfamily that predicates itself on the comics just enough to be vaguely the same characters, but has a more sitcom, slice-of-life sort of vibe so DC could profit off of this section of the fanbase that otherwise wasn't consuming its primary material. and well, it's definitely worked. not only that, but i have a weird theory that the decline in the MCU also led to the rise in the Batfamily fandom. when you consider the fan content that made the MCU popular within fandom, it's that 2012 "they all live in Avengers Tower and Thor is eating poptarts and Clint is in the vents and there are movie nights every Friday" sort of vibe. those were the fics that were a hallmark of the fandom. and as the MCU has strayed from well... quality content in general, but specifically well-thought-out crossover content where characters can have their own arcs but also exist in a wider story where they clearly care about each other, that fandom was sort of homeless. so where do you go, if you like a superhero found family where you can have villains for angst but also stick them all in one big family-like home for silly crack and have a plethora of options for gay ships? well. you go to the Batfamily. if you write a crack/fluff Batfamily genfic with silly vibes and low stakes instead of say, a fic about a very specific comic issue even if it's a popular comic, you're *going* to get more traction for the former. because the fanbase largely just isn't reading the comics.

and i feel... complicated about this. because on one hand, Don't Like Don't Read has been a tenet of my fandom experience. i'm very pro-fandom and that includes fandom content i don't like. and to an extent, i do think this sort of should apply to Batfamily fanon. i enjoy having my moments with other comic purists, giggling over exceptionally painful OOC headcanons or even facepalming in pain over some content but it is on me to not interact with that content. you don't make fandom a better place by being hostile to fans who engage with canon in ways you don't approve of. and frankly? we as comic readers are not going to get non-comic fans to read the comics by being asshats to them. no one is going to want to pick up any comic if we get a superiority complex about it. and also, i feel like we're all lying to ourselves a little bit insisting comics are so, so easy to get into. they're not. we can just all agree, they're really not. i've been single-handedly helping my sister get into comics, specifically Wonder Woman and no matter how simple i make it, i watch her get frustrated trying to understand what pre-Crisis and post-Crisis and New-52 and Flashpoint and all these things mean and what a retcon vs a reboot is and what a Crisis Event is and what the hell Diana's current backstory even *is*. sure, you can give someone a beginner list of comics to start with and slowly dip their toes in the water but sooner or later, *something* is going to confuse them. comics as a medium straight up aren't going to be everyone's cup of tea. and if someone *just* wants to read silly fluffy fanfiction about the Batfamily, i can't entirely begrudge them for not wanting to take the hours and hours out of their day to understand this medium. it's not an accessible medium to get into. "read this and this, but this run is out of print and this run wasn't collected in trades at all but also make sure you read that event in order and this is a good comic but the backstory in it is retconned and you *have* to read this it's so important but it's also really bad because the author kind of sucks" sounds. ridiculous for someone who like. just wants to read some stuff about Nightwing. sometimes, we all make reading comics sort of sound like a chore, not a hobby.

so my point is, i do extend some grace to Batfamily fanon for existing. i think my biggest gripe is, as i said in my other post, misuse of tags (if you're not creating content about comics, maybe you don't need the comics fandom tag on Ao3, just the all media types umbrella tag) and my far bigger gripe: when panels are taken out of context to support fanon only headcanons. if i could impart *anything* onto the Batfamily fandom as a comic fan it'd be this: if you haven't *read* the comic, don't spread the panel. if you don't even know what comic it's *from*, don't spread the panel. it's fine to use comic panels to discuss your headcanons, but so often i see someone spreading a comic panel from a comic they haven't read, and when asked where it's from, they can't source it. a silly example that comes to mind is a post going around, taking a panel where Dick, in his internal monologue goes "here comes the sun. do do do do." and the post is claiming it's from him getting buried alive. when that panel comes from Nightwing (1996) #140, and he gets buried alive in Nightwing (1996) #127, two completely different moments frankensteined together. if you're going to not read the comics, that's completely fine, but unless you're sure of the source and the context, panels shouldn't be spread around. i'm sick of this specifically happening to Red Robin (2009), with ppl claiming Tim has totally killed people because he blew up some of Ra's' bases, when those panels within context, make it clear he gave everyone time to escape. and in a later arc in that very comic, Tim grapples with the idea of murdering Captain Boomerang, and *specifically chooses not to*, because he doesn't agree with murder, even against the person who has hurt him the most. if you'd like to write fanfiction where Tim is pro-murder and has done some sketch things, i'm totally on board and would probably like to read it. but there's no need to pretend it's canon from a few panels you saw out of context.

beyond that, i think it's not *entirely* correct to say that fanon is harmless. whenever i see very WFA-positive posts, they often default to the argument that WFA is fun and silly, and comic fans are killjoys for not liking it. which. i think is complicated because the issue is, WFA and fanon don't exist in a vacuum. if you like WFA power to you, i don't think it's the worst thing ever, but i do think it's degrading to these characters because honestly? they feel incompetent in the webtoon. it's one thing if WFA was solely a slice-of-life sort of deal, just having silly episodes where Bruce is taking on a PTA mom or they're all fighting for the last cookie. but when WFA attempts to take on more serious plots with these characters, it *fundamentally* falls flat in understanding them. i get it, Bruce comforting Jason having a panic attack because a noise reminded him of the crowbar felt cute in a microcosm, but i'm so serious when i say that storyline destroyed how like. half of this fandom understands Jason Todd's relationship to his trauma. it doesn't understand how he reacts when he's triggered, what coping mechanisms he seeks out, and how he would handle Bruce comforting him. even if i can believe for a brief moment Jason *would* be triggered by something like that, him running and trying to hide and then getting a hug from Bruce to make it okay is just. painful. WFA needs everything to be wrapped up in a nice, neat little bow. so even when it starts to tackle interesting concepts, it makes them fall flat with its need to be soft, low stakes, hurt/comfort. there was a two-parter episode that dealt with the complicated mutual hatred/jealousy between Tim and Damian that *almost* really interested me because for once, it felt like the webtoon wanted to explore canon messy dynamics. but of course, it had to be fixed with one conversation and a hug. you don't mend the *years* of issues these characters have like that. WFA isn't in character because these characters are hyperbole cartoonified versions of themselves to fit within the medium and be a cute happy family.

because that right there, is the crux of it. the Batfamily fanon seeks to simplify the Batfamily and force them into a nuclear family. there are so many fantastic posts on here discussing how the nuclear family-ification of the Batfam is eroding decades worth of complex histories so i won't go too far into that. but what i will say is that there's this need, in the Batfamily fandom, for the Batfamily to exist as a unit. they are a *family*. (honestly i think calling it the Batfamily is a misnomer and has been for years but we're in too deep now.) they exist to each other first, and any teams or friends they have come secondary to this family unit. you can *specifically* see this demonstrated in what headcanons are becoming popular these days. i have an entire lengthy meta in my drafts about how i *loathe* the "the Batfamily meets the Justice League" genre of fanfic because it makes no *sense*. in order to have this genre of fic exist, you must operate under the assumption that no one in the League, or adjacent to the League, knows the Batfamily exists and are thus utterly shocked to discover Batman has kids. and to make *that* work, you have to strip *every single Batfamily member* of such important dynamics and friendships so you can lock them all in Gotham for their whole lives. Dick can't have the Titans, Tim can't have Young Justice, Duke & Cass can't have the Outsiders, Jason can't have the Outlaws, Damian can't have the Supersons, Babs can't have the Birds of Prey, and so on. because if they had these relationships, they would be known to the League. the Batfamily fandom doesn't care about this, it's just "silly fanfiction", it's not trying to be serious. but how can you say you like Dick Grayson as a character if you don't understand the Titans *are* his family? at some points of his life, moreso than the Batfamily even is. it is constantly repeated to us in most comics with Dick how much the Titans mean to him. he *needs* them to be who he is. the same extends to every other Batfamily member, most of which have been full League members at this point. but in fanon, that doesn't matter. the Batfamily are a sequestered unit first, and all of those side relationships are secondary and easy to toss away, if it makes your fanfic work better.

and because they have to be a unit first, you have these forced relationships that dump years of actual canon material for the sake of making them get along. the Batfamily fandom has its favorites and well. it's no secret it's usually the boys. Jason and Tim by *far* stand out as fandom faves so, their dynamic is a heavily explored one. it does matter that in canon they don't tend to get along and especially don't see each other as family. what matters is that you can push dynamics onto them. and so fanon gets all twisted up about which Robin Tim actually idolized as a kid (Dick) and what member of the Batfamily is pro-murder but still an older sibling figure to him and looks out for him (Helena, or if you want the dynamic of once tried to harm Tim but they've reconciled, Jean-Paul) in favor of who's the most popular. Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian are always going to be the standouts for popularity, but it's specifically Jason and Tim who are getting fanonized the most. and that's because really, we don't have much canon content of Tim that *isn't* the comics. for Dick you've got Young Justice (tv), for Damian you've got the DCAMU, for Jason you've sort of got the Under The Red Hood movie, but Tim sort of lingers in this limbo. (yes, he's in Young Justce (tv) and Titans (live action) but in neither is he the main character nor given much depth) so, he gets a *lot* projected onto him and has become fanonized. and even with Jason's animated movies, you don't see him interact with Tim, so people build it from the ground up how they want to see it, disregarding of canon comics. i think it's what makes him so popular in the first place- he's malleable into whatever you want or need him to be.

and of course, the fanon ignores other characters in the Batfamily it doesn't know about. i feel like you could create a tier list of Batfamily characters by their popularity, going from the fandom main characters: Tim, Jason, Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Damian. to the underrated: Steph, Duke, Babs, Cass. to the forgotten about unless they're convenient for a story: Kate, the Foxes, Helena Wayne, Carrie, Selina, Harper Row, Maps, Minhkhoa Khan. to the absolutely unknown: Helena Bertinelli, Jean-Paul Valley, Onyx Adams, the Clovers, Julia Pennyworth. it's not lost on me that the ignored characters tend to be women and people of color. which is both a canon and fanon problem, DC will continue adding interesting characters to the Batfamily, play with them for a few years, then drop them to default to the "Batboys" again. and it's a vicious cycle of the fandom only caring about the "Batboys", and thus people entering the fandom via fanon osmosis won't have content about the other characters, therefore, they won't be interested in those characters enough to create it, and it's just this ouroboros consuming itself, no matter how much canon content we have of these other characters. and it's ridiculous just how large the Batfamily is becoming because of this, which is why i'm a pre-Flashpoint fan, because then the Batfamily was contained enough to actually feel like a family with every character having nuances relationships with each other, but i digress because those thoughts could be their own post.

and the thing about fanon is it doesn't exist in a vacuum. DC has started turning the comics to accommodate for what fans are asking for, because fans will beg and beg for content they're not going to consume. Tim Drake: Robin had Tim as a coffee drinker because that's the fanon accepted headcanon. and the resolution of the recent Gotham War arc was for Bruce to buy this new manor for everyone to move in and call him. nevermind that most of these characters have their own homes and have zero reason to be moving in with Bruce. Tim had his marina in Tim Drake: Robin, Dick has Bludhaven, Cass and Steph have their little side of town in Batgirls (2022), and so on. these characters are being forced together as a unit, as one big happy family living together, to appease what non-comic fans want and it's damaging comic relationships. Robin: Knight Terrors saw Jason and Tim team up and working together, which i've seen varying opinions on but i personally despised. their interactions made zero sense for any of their canon history, but it appeases them being this close sibling relationship that fanon acts like they are. also the fears they faced in their respective knight terrors didn't make sense for either character and *only* worked as a moment of bringing them together so they could reassure each other and have this weird dreamscape bonding moment. the canon is bending itself to the will of fanon rather than building on the pre-existing complex relationships. Tim barely even gets along with his most important team in Dark Crisis: Young Justice because it seems the only important relationships the Batfamily can have is with each other. and when we do see them outside of the Batfamily, it only seems to be to relive the glory days like with World's Finest: Teen Titans, instead of developing them as they currently exist. this isn't recent in the comics, it feels like you can trace it back to the New-52, but it does feel a *lot* worse over the recent years. WFA is fine when it exists in its own bubble, but the simple truth is, DC content never exists on its own. the adaptations will reflect back onto the comics. (the damage the Young Justice cartoon has done to some characters should honestly be studied) and so it does frustrate me a bit when fanon-only or adaptation-only fans act like we're being nothing but killjoys for being frustrated with this. since they don't read the comics, they don't see how the comics are suffering as a result of this.

people argue about what's out of character for the comics they don't even read. i'm sorry, but "bad dad Bruce" is consistently canon. that man is just kind of shitty. when you take someone who has the drive he has, who has this need for the Mission first, who needs a teenager in spandex next to him to keep him off the ledge, that guy is sort of going to be a shitty father figure. he just is. not on purpose or with malice, but when you compare him to any other dad in a big DC family, he sure takes the cake. it's why characters like Oliver Queen tend to *really* fucking hate Bruce for how he treats his kids. Bruce loves fiercely, but he doesn't do well with putting that love first. and his love is a controlling one, he is very particular about controlling how others in the Batfamily are "allowed" to operate. it's what drives the wedge between him and Dick, it's why Steph is never a true daughter to him. (besides the reason of her needing to be a love interest to Tim first, anyway-) i've never understood the massive outcry of people reacting to Bruce kinda being shitty in comics they're not reading. there are some moments that get ridiculously OOC with how cartoonishly evil he is (the whole Gotham War arc and that... complicated mess with Jason) but largely if you want sitcom loving nuclear father Bruce, you have to accept that is a fanon thing, not a canon one. the Batfamily being a nuclear family in *general* is fanon. most of the "Batkids" don't actually see Bruce in a particularly fatherly light and begging for moments where he calls them his kids or they call him dad outside of incredibly specific circumstances is just OOC.

it's getting harder and harder to exist peacefully in this fandom it feels like, if you don't comply to the standard fanon has set. i'm happy people are having fun with their blorbos, even if in ways i dislike, but that "harmless fandom fun" does ripple it's way back to canon, eventually. so i end up pretty tangled with my feelings because are fans at fault for DC making these poor decisions? probably not, but it certainly feels like an unfortunate cause-and-effect situation whether at the end of the day, nobody is happy. and of course, i know some fanon-only fans are striving to be more canon accurate and care about canon dynamics more than others, but for them it's always going to be an uphill battle with the above-mentioned out-of-context panels thrown around and ever-pervasive fanon overtaking anything that's truly seeking to be canon compliant. so really, it sometimes feels like we're all losing.

[hellamorte]

do you ever think about how lucanis keeps losing and losing and losing — his entire life? losing his parents, losing his childhood because of the crow training, losing his freedom, his sleep, and one year of his life due to imprisonment. then the maker smiles upon him, and he's discovering something good (rook, the veilguard team, purpose), acquiring something back (his family, his life, his freedom, his job, his city), finding some peace in mundane things (coffee, cooking, taking care of others). it feels like the scales are finally moving, balancing — only for him to lose again. he loses caterina, he can lose his city to blight, he loses at weisshaupt, he loses grip on himself (thanks to spite), he loses control — he loses himself, piece by piece. rook can help lighten the load on his chest (thanks to spite), he gets caterina back, and breathing feels a little bit easier. but loss is not done with him. he loses illario, and it feels like losing a limb, a large piece of himself violently torn away. he's visibly shaken, but no one truly knows what it takes to string the assorted pieces of himself together and keep functioning. and then loss deals what seems like the final blow: some of his friends are dead or lost, and rook is gone, too. he failed; he only knows death, doesn't he? life only takes, and takes, and takes, giving only to tease and take it back. at that moment, he's falling apart completely — until they find rook, and there's a sliver of hope once again. the scales are moving, the team wins, they eventually go back to their lives — and that's when he realizes that the final blow is the life as the first talon.

[eelclaw]

stupid fucking bastard. i am not coping with the leaks

[chirpsythismorning]

El being *12 hours earlier* than the Cali timeline when she arrives at Nina. Will saying ‘it’s been 9 hrs’ in the scene following his monologue in the van.

We know that at some point their timelines merged when they arrived to save her…

But we don’t know when exactly those alignments took place when they were still apart… which just makes you wonder…

[sak-supernatural]

I've said it before and I'll say it again; I don't understand how people can get borde in the Ghost fandom.

It is a multi-shippers paradise, you can literally take any of the ghouls from any era and smash them together in any way you want! Also you can get as weird as you want, you know with the satanism and stuff, the ghouls antics on stage provide more than enough fodder. Literally I don't understand why people feel the need to invite drama where there need not be any. Use your imagination for something better! 😒

[lord-squiggletits]

I think the key component to my personal reading of post-Delphi Pharma is that he's trying to be a horrible person on purpose. Not "on purpose" in the way that people have free will to exercise their own choices, but in that Pharma's "mad doctor" persona is a performance he puts on to deliberately embrace how much everyone else hates him. Basically, if people already think you're a "bad Autobot" and a horrible doctor who just kills his patients for fun, why try to prove otherwise to people who have already made up their minds about you? Just fully embrace the fact that people see you as an asshole. Don't try to change their minds. Don't plead for their forgiveness or understanding. Just stop caring. If you're going to be remembered as a monster, you might as well be a memorable monster, and eke as much pleasure and hedonism as you can out of it before karma catches up to you and you inevitably crash and burn.

I mean, I guess you could just go the route of "Oh, Pharma was always a fucked up creepy guy and Delphi was just him taking the mask off," but I really don't like that interpretation because, for one, it feels really wrong to take a character like Pharma becoming evil under duress and going, "Oh well clearly he did the things he did because he was evil all along," as if somehow Pharma breaking under blackmail/torture/threat of horrible death was a sign of him having poor moral character. As opposed to, you know, suffering under the very real threat of horrible death for himself and everyone he cares about while being manipulated by a guy who specializes in psychological torture.

The second reason is that it just doesn't make sense to write Pharma as having been evil all along. I mean...

Occam's Razor says that the best argument is the one with the simplest explanation. Doesn't it make way more sense to take Pharma's appearances in flashbacks, his friendship with Ratchet, his stunning medical accomplishments, and the few we see of him speaking kindly/sympathetically (or in the least charitable interpretation, at least professionally) towards his patients and conclude "This guy was just a normal person, if exceptionally talented." Taking all of these flashback appearances at face value and assuming Pharma was being genuine/honest is a way simpler and more logical explanation than trying to argue that Pharma for the past 4 million years was just faking being a good doctor/person. I mean, it's possible within the realm of headcanon, but the fact is Pharma's appearances in the story are so brief that there simply wasn't room in the story for there to be some sort of secret conspiracy/hidden manipulation behind why Pharma acted the way he did in the past.

I just can't help but look at things like Pharma's friendship with Ratchet (himself a good person and usually a fine judge of character) and the fact that even post-Delphi, pretty much every single mention of Pharma comes with some mention of "He was a good doctor for most of his life" or "He was making major headways in research [before he started killing patients]" which implies that even the Autobots themselves see Pharma's villainy as a recent turn in his life compared to how for "most of his life" he "used to be" a good doctor.

And although Pharma doesn't know this, we as the readers (and even other characters like Rung) know about Aequitas technology and the fact that it actually works, so... if Pharma really was an unrepentant murderer, why couldn't he get through the forcefield too? The Aequitas forcefield doesn't require that a person be completely morally pure and free of wrongdoing or else how could Tyrest get through, just that they feel a sense of inner peace and lack feelings of guilt. Pharma has murdered and tortured people by this point, and put on quite a campy and theatrical show of how much he sees it as a fun game, so why then can he not get through?

It circles back to my headcanon at the start of this post that the "mad doctor" persona is just that-- a persona. Delphi/post-Delphi Pharma's laughing madman personality is just so far removed from every flashback we saw of him and everything we can infer based on how other people see/saw him before that, to me, the mad doctor act is (at least in large part, if not fully) a persona that Pharma puts on to put his villainy in the forefront.

To avoid an overly simplistic/ableist take, I don't think Tarn tortured Pharma into turning crazy. To me, it's more like the constant pressure of death by horrific torture, the feeling of martyrdom as Pharma kept secret that he was the only one standing between Delphi and annihilation, the physical isolation of Messatine as well as the emotional separation from Ratchet, being forced to violate his medical oaths (pretty much the only thing Pharma's entire life has been about), etc. All of that combined traumatized Pharma to the point that the only way he could avoid cracking was to just stop caring about all of it. Because at least then, even if he's still murdering patients to save Delphi from a group of sadistic freaks, Pharma doesn't have to feel guilty and sick about doing it. As opposed to the alternatives, which were probably either going off the deep end and killing himself to escape, or confessing to what he did and getting jailed for it.

In that light, Pharma becoming a mad doctor makes sense. It avoids the bad writing tropes of "oh this character who was good his entire life was actually just evil and really good at hiding it" as well as "oh he got tortured and went crazy that's why he's so random and silly and killing people, he's crazy" and instead frames Pharma's evil as something he was forced into, to the point where in order to avoid a full psychological breakdown and keep defending Delphi, he just had to stop caring about the sanctity of life or about what other people might think of him.

Then, of course, the actual Delphi episode happens, and Pharma's own lifelong best friend Ratchet basically spits in his face and sees him as nothing more than a crazy murderer who went rogue from being a good Autobot. Then Pharma gets his hands cut off and left to die on Messatine. At that point, Pharma has not only been mentally/emotionally broken into losing his feelings of compassion, he's received the message loud and clear: He is alone. Everyone hates him. Not even his own best friend likes him any more. No one even cared enough about him to check if he actually died or not. He will only ever be remembered as a doctor who went insane and killed his patients.

So in the light of 1. Having all of your redeeming qualities be squeezed out of you one by one for the sake of survival and 2. Having your reputation and all of your positive relationships be destroyed and 3. People only know/care about you as "that doctor who became evil and killed his patients" rather than the millions of years of good service that came before.

What else is there to do but internalize the fact that you'll forever be seen as a monster and a freak, and embrace it? People already see you as a murderer for that blackmail deal you did, so why not become an actual murderer and just start killing people on a whim? People already see you as an irredeemable monster who puts a stain on the Autobot name, so why beg for their forgiveness when you could just shun them back? You've already become a murderer, a traitor, and a horrible doctor, so what's a few more evil acts added to the pile? It's not like anyone will ever forgive you or love you ever again.

Why care? Why try to hold on to your principles of compassion, kindness, medical ethics, when an entire lifetime of being a good person did nothing to save you from blackmail and then abandonment? Why put yourself through the emotional agony of feeling lonely, guilty, miserable, when you could just... stop caring, and not hurt any more?

[littlelightfish]

We alredy know what's Chilchuck's worst nightmare. What if I told you that it was canon?

His daughters have alredy been eaten. His wife was eaten too. His family are all dead. His worst nightmare has come truth. And he for sure feels like it's partially his fault, because it's the Winged Lion doing, yes, but who helped Laios get here? Chilchuck. And who's daughters and wife are now dead because of it? Chilchuck's. The suggestion of recreating them tells us that they've alredy been eaten. The way he says it makes it feel like it's too late. They're dead. Because of him. Of his actions. Of his job. The irony of it all is actually quite cruel. He makes a union so he can prevent bad things to happen to his race, to his family, and then, and he works at the union. And now, because of his job, he got them all killed.

He doesn't even know how his daughters are until way later, I don't even know if in the manga they send letters to him during the feast, because I know they don't go to said feast. So Chilchuck doesn't know if his girls are alright until, again, way later. We know they don't die because, well, there's this comic of them going to meet Laios, the new king. But if not for that, who could tell us they didn't die on the monster appearances? I can imagine that after the feast Chil went stright to check on them. Because he loves his daughters, and he cares for his wife. He sucks at communicating it, yes, but he does.

He doesn't want to risk his family's safety. But he, unknowingly, unwillingly, indirectly, did. He got them eaten by those demons because he helped his friends achieve his goal. Because he cared about Falin and wanted her to be human again. Because he cared about Laios and didn'twanted to see him loose his sister. Because he cared about Marcille, Senshi and Itsuzumi. He cares so much about everyone and wants to help everyone (in his own way), that he doesn't think that the result would, inevitably so, be the worst outcome for him. The one in wich work and private life get mixed together. His job as a member of Laios's party ended dragging his family in, despite his best efforts. His job ended up, not only endangering the whole word with demons, but his family. His four precious girls. It ended up almost killing them (probably it killed them for some time because getting eaten by those demons works wierd).

Worst part? He didn't have the time to be mourn over what he 100% sure thought was the complete loss of his family. He was in a hurry to survive himself, so he pushed those sad feelings and tried his best to help who he had left. Later on he finds out that the demons spitted out people. And he seems shocked with some kind of surprised relief.

He looks how everyone that got eaten was alive. And he can't quite either believe it nor understand it. He is really confused. So they didn't die? Are my daughters ok? Is my wife ok? Did everybody survived? Are they alive? He dares to hope that they're all ok and pulls into a box his feelings again, saving it up for when he has the time to be overwhelmed about this all. He has a feast, trying not to worry, but worried sick. Then he goes home and checks on them.

Give this poor man a break and a beer...

[rhiaemrys]

In other news. I am now a ghostmaker fan. BY jove is he funny. He's objectively better at Bruce's job at least 2/3 of the time (by a given metric of better). He doesn't get attachements. He's had two sidekicks and two love interests all of whom are reflective of Batman because he so desperately wants to fill the hole of what he thought he could of had with Bruce but didn't and so now on some level he believes that if he shows Bruce he's truly better at being Batman Bruce will come around. He cannot for the life of him not take a jab at Bruce. He has not stopped thinking of Bruce ever. He was willing to stay in Gotham to help Bruce out despite being a guy plagued by chronic vigilante wanderlust. He is literally a walking ninja cyborg aesthetic post.

Minhkhoa Khan you will always be Him.