#who gonna take care of him?!!!

[blackkatdraws2]

The Main Character.

[Blank Scripts AU]

[kettlefire]

Time forgets most (DPxDC)

I've been getting too many brain worms that I need to clear out the cramp space that is my idea vault. In doing so, I'm just posting off-handed, random things I've typed up at work. (Partly so my drafts don't just end up like my vault). Without further ado, a much too too long post

°•°•°•°

The movement of time is a much too complex thing for many to understand. The knowledge that time was not perfectly linear. The past did not simply stay in the past. The future is not simply something to look forward to. The present is not simply a fleeting moment.

Time is a complex web. Every point in time, connected to another point in time. A never-ending mess of webs and connections. Things that are to be. Things that can be. Things that are being. Things that will never see the light of day in this universe.

Despite what some may want to believe, Time has no master. Time does not yield to any singular being. That did not mean that Time didn't need a helping hand. A guiding hand to help keep the chaos of time to something just a little more... fluid.

The being came to exist well before the universe had. The being was festered, taught, and nurtured in a small pocket dimension. A small space just like an incubator.

Until the world blossomed around it. Life started to grow. Time kept moving. Living organisms found untimely deaths. Evolved, learned, and grew into the new space around it.

When the first little creature crawled out of the water, Time's keeper was let free. A bumbling little thing, breaming with life and curiosity.

Just like everything else in the world, this keeper wasn't safe from time. It still moved. Brought forth problems and adventures.

As time continued to tick. Moving in every direction, the keeper continued to age. Unlike the rest of the universe, the keeper didn't age the same as others.

Some days, he was nothing but a small boy, frolicking in a field of flowers and bees. Other days, he was a strong middle-aged man. Pulling the strings in just the right way, pushing for a timeline that felt right.

On days that have been happening much more often. He was but a crippled old man, hunched over his staff, and dropping much needed wisdom on the young lives around him.

Being the keeper of time wasn't an easy feat. Being completely out of time, experiencing things in broken order. There was only a clear start, and a jumble of things that followed.

The keeper was content with his life. Watching over the world as it grew and blossomed. He was content with his special kind of solitude.

That was until he saw the boy. In the webs of moments, the keeper's gaze had found him. A boy much too young, suddenly with powers much too great thrusted upon him.

The keeper watched the scenes play out. The tears, laughter, humiliation, triumph, and pain. He watched as the boy's family was ripped from him. Watched the twisted attempt at fixing his life, only for it to go horribly wrong.

He watched the bloodshed and chaos that erupted. The lives ripped apart and destroyed. Not a single sign of life left behind.

Then he watched as the boy, no, not a boy anymore. The keeper watched as the monster tore through the fabric of time. Ripped its way through the thin veils that divided the universes.

Universes that had never known the boy's existence were torn to shreds to. A flight driven with pain and anger.

Despite the keeper having seen the boy turn into such a monster. He could see it in the beast's eyes. The deep-seated need for a family, a life. To be loved.

Something about the boy's life, his story, spoke to the keeper. He found himself reaching out into the web of lives and moments. Finding the moment when things went the most wrong for the boy.

Just like that, the keeper had inserted himself into a life. He pulled the boy out of the cruel stream of time. Filled the boy with the knowledge he needed. Let the boy see just what could happen if he let it.

The keeper of time was soon a simple mentor. A simple deity looking out for the world. Taking on the mantel of Clockwork and finding a new purpose for his life.

A young boy's life has been flipped upside down two times now. And there were certainly more to come. This time, the boy wasn't alone. He had a guiding hand, and a communtiy behind him.

The keeper, no, Clockwork watched with a strange pride and happiness he hadn't felt in a long time. The boy was quickly surrounded by a family that helped him navigate his new powers.

Clockwork, alongside many of the other ghostly beings, watched on with pride as the young boy grew into a strong young man. Mastering powers, taking a stand, and making their home safe.

Despite the best efforts, time always beings problems.

It was one thing for Clockwork. He was the keeper of time. His life has reason to exist as long as time exists. Which will always be. His purpose was infinite.

But this boy... Danny wasn't like Clockwork. He was still partially human and terrified of losing his humanity. Danny's story had to come to an end, it's how time works.

Except, Danny wasn't in the timeline anymore. Clockwork had ensured that, pulled Danny into a separate timeline. An unaccounted for timeline.

He couldn't live here forever, not the way that Clockwork could. Danny needs a life, a family, a place, a purpose. He was still human.

It took more effort than Clockwork would have liked. He had to cash in favors from other deities that he hadn't spoken to in centuries.

It took a combined effort of everyone who cared for the little halfa. The strange boy that teeter on the line between life and death. The boy who had freed the Zone from a tyrant. Who wanted nothing more than for everyone to live a happy and filled life/afterlife.

Getting the magic and spells right was the hard part. But finding the location was easy. A beautiful planet just on the edge of the Milky Way. Unlikely to be disturbed or hurt.

The planet was undiscovered, primative even. Far enough from humans that Clockwork was certain Danny wouldn't be bothered. Only one species lived on that planet. Along the jungle like fauna, and in the water.

Cute little guys, barely bigger than two feet long and one foot tall. There was no name, no knowledge about them. Aside from Clockwork analyzing their way of life.

A simple cycle. They were born, they aged, they played, fed, mated, and then died. A simple but content life.

The aliens weren't unsettling. At least not to anyone who has seen more creatures than what Earth has to offer. It is a strange combination between frog, fish, and squid.

Scurrying around on two legs and four tentacles. A small frog-like face with eyes that seemed to take up half that space. Colors vary from blues to greens to the same sandy brown found at the bottom of the lakes.

Before long, the planet had its own protector. A young boy who once was lost and alone seemed to meld perfectly with these aliens.

Clockwork was always sure of himself. He never let anyone see otherwise. Except, Clockwork hadn't been sure. Not when he had performed the ritual.

As he molded and changed Danny's DNA until the man was a new being entirely. To anyone who didn't know the full story, the boy could easily look related to the aliens.

Gills now painted the sides of his neck, not necessary, but Clockwork felt like it had been. Webbed hands and feet to make transversing the underwater caves even easier. An ethereal, almost siren-like touch to Danny.

It worked out perfectly. Danny settled in easily. Building a routine and bound with the aliens. It hadn't been hard for the little creature to take a liking to him.

Before long, it was routine. Danny would spend most of his time on the planet, watching over his new wards. On some days, he'd portal back to the zone. Spend time with the ghosts and deities that saved his life. To check in on the new govermental system that had been put in place.

It was perfect. Simple and nice. Everyone got complacent. The longer time went on without a hiccup or a problem. The longer Danny was able to rest in his odd solitude. The more people got comfortable.

The more they forgot that time was as cruel as it was forgiving.

It had been just another day cycle. Danny was playing with the most recent litter birth. The first time he had seen the birth, he was more disgusted than anything else.

After the third time, Danny had started getting excited. He looked forward to it. Loved seeing the aliens flourish and grow. Watching them thrive and find more fun in the things Danny creates. Every new fun game or obstacle was always made with the things natural to the planet. Or debris that was caught in its gravitational pull.

Danny was playing with Plop. The little guy got his name, and he always plopped out of the water. Unlike the other aliens, this one didn't crawl out. No, he'd pull himself out of the water with his tentacles, only to plop down on the ground.

Of course, Plop had also been the first alien to approach Danny when he arrived. It's how they formed such a strong bond.

Everything had seemed perfectly fine. The day was rolling along just like it always did. That was until a small group of the more elder aliens suddenly came scurrying into their main cave.

They hadn't waited a second before diving into the water. Danny watched, confused and concerned, as each one of them grabbed one of the young. Before shooting straight into the underwater cave system.

The once bustling and living cave was suddenly eerily quiet and void of any aliens. Leaving behind only the confused Danny in the pool.

At least that's what a certain Green Lantern saw when he followed the trail of retreating aliens.

This planet had been categorized to have no signs of intelligent life. It seemed to have the option to nurture life, but there had been no signs.

When Hal Jordan got word of a seeming spike of activity from the supposedly empty planet, he had added it to his rooster.

A quick peek, just a look into what kind of life might be starting to grow there. The little aliens he had seen were adorable, sure. But they didn't seem all that evolved. Still in their evolutionary journey.

That was until Hal saw him.

Now, Hal was no stranger to running into ethereal beauty. It's what happens when someone interacts with aliens on a basic daily. That was something he was used to.

Except, all his breath seemed to be knocked out of him completely. The cave alone was stunning, a stark contrast from the almost barren surface he had first seen.

A deep, shimmering blue pool that vanished into the rocky space around it. Trees, bushes, and flowers decorate the area. It looked almost too good to be true. Like an oasis in the middle of a desert.

Then there was the being that caught all of Hal's attention. Bright blue eyes that looked like gems, pale blue-tinged skin. Long black and white hair seemed to look almost like the night sky. A deep abyss littered with stars.

The closest thing that Hal's brain supplied was a siren. A beautiful, ethereal creature that lured men to their deaths. As beautiful as it seemed, Hal knew there could easily be danger.

Except, the creature didn't attack or threaten him.

Instead, he seemed almost shy. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, sharp deadly teeth flashing in the light with each motion.

Hal had just opened his mouth, taken a hesitant step forward. He wanted to know, and he needed to know how this happened. There wasn't supposed to be an intelligent, sophisticated life on this planet.

The moment Hal's lips parted, the creature let out a trill. A sound that seemed more scared than aggressive. Before suddenly, the beautiful creature vanished into the pool.

Hal moved before he could think, rushing to the edge of the pool. He peered into the crystal clear water, just in time to take the webbed feet of the creature vanish into a tunnel.

Now that left Hal with two options. He could either report this and wait for backup...

Or...

Or...

He could jump inside. The ring would protect him, and his lungs would be fine. Perks of being a Green Lantern.

That option seemed much more tempting to Hal. Nothing about this scream an outright threat. He felt more like a strange imposing on someone's home. A home that was meant for safety and protection of the young.

Yet, the shimmering water seemed to be calling to Hal. Something in him was trying to push him to get inside. To find the beautiful creature and learn more. Learn how this happened.

Without realizing it, Hal Jordan sealed his fate the moment he dipped a finger into the cool pool. Rippling the steady surface just slightly.

Just enough to get him wrapped up in the strange web created by time and its keeper.

[luxaofhesperides]

For the ghostlights drabbles: “Say my name” with a favor being called in?

Duke had saved Phantom years ago, back when he was just out of high school and working to take down a branch of the government that was kidnapping and experimenting on people, targeting magic users and metas. Phantom had been working on his own to take them down, and they met in the middle, trashing a lab and freeing as many people as they could.

They had managed to shoot his back, knocking him down and making him bleed a glowing green. Phantom couldn’t move, protecting two kids with his body, and Duke couldn’t reach them in time before they were taken away by another swarm of agents. 

He was able to go after them in time, free Phantom and the kids, and evacuated the victims before Phantom rained hell down on the facility.

At the end, standing in the background as they watched paramedics treat the victims and take them towards the nearest hospitals, Phantom had turned towards him and thanked him.

Or rather, he thanked the Signal and offered him a bracelet with a rounded orb of ice, glowing faintly in the dark. If you ever need me, he had said, Hold this, and call me name.

Phantom vanished once the last of the victims were transported to a safer location, and Duke hadn’t seen him since.

He’s kept up with news about Phantom as best he can, but from what he could tell, Phantom is based primarily in Amity Park, Illinois, and the town is fiercely protective of their hero. News rarely leaks out of there, and with them running on their own servers and independent internet, it was nearly impossible to get in from the outside. 

Phantom remained a curious and distant figure in Duke’s life. He holds onto the bracelet still, guarding it carefully and sometimes running his fingers over the ice that never melts.

But he doesn’t call in that favor. He’s never to.

At least, not until now.

Sucking in a breath, Duke prepares himself and holds the orb of ice in the palm of his hand. He’s in civies, unable to hide his identity for this, and closes his eyes. “Phantom,” he says.

For a moment, nothing happens. Duke blinks his eyes open and frowns, mind already forming new plans to contact Phantom. Then the ice goes bitingly cold, almost painful, and the temperature in the room drops dramatically. The ice lifts up from his hand, floating in the air, then cracks open.

White-blue light spills out of it, growing brighter as it seems to swallow up the room entirely. Duke hurries to back up, an arm thrown up to protect his eyes. His breath mists out before him and he shivers as the sound of ice cracking fills the room.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, the light disappears and the cold fades away like a bad dream. 

Slowly, Duke lowers his arm and looks up at Phantom, floating in the middle of his living room with a crown made of ice, engulfed in blue fire, hovers above his head. He looks older, more regal, holding his head high. 

He regards Duke carefully for a minute, then tilts his head and says, “Signal?”

“Yeah, it’s me. Man, I’m so glad you came.”

“You… need help with something? You’re calling in your favor now, right?”

Duke nods. He understands Phantom’s confusion; being in the hero business means that favors like these tend to be used only during the most hopeless of times, when the world is close to ending, when the chances of getting out of a situation alive is close to impossible. It’s exactly the kind of thing Duke was expecting to call Phantom in for.

Not the kid sleeping on his couch.

“You’re a ghost, yeah?”

Phantom blinks at him. “Ghost king, now. Why?”

“Well…” Duke rubs the back of his neck, nervously. “I didn’t really know who else to call, and I can’t do this on my own since I’m not a ghost. But this kid got attached to me and won’t leave, so now I’m taking care of her and I have no idea what I’m doing.”

“I don’t know why you think I have any experience with kids but—”

“She’s a ghost.”

Phantom stops short. “Ah. I see.” He floats down until his feet touch the floor, and then he’s standing like any other person. “Where…?”

Duke looks past Phantom’s shoulder, and Phantom turns to follow his gaze. Chelsea, the ghost girl, looks to be around nine years old and is fast asleep on the couch, curled up under Duke’s softest blanket.

“Signal,” Phantom says quietly, “What, exactly, is the favor you need from me?”

“You can say no,” Duke starts. “I get that this is a lot. But I need help raising her. And since you’re a ghost, I figured you could help me learn about the ghostly side of things. You don’t have to raise her with me or anything! Just… I would appreciate any help you’re willing to give me.”

Phantom doesn’t say no. He doesn’t say anything. He just stares down at Chelsea, an unreadable expression on his face. 

On the couch. Chelsea shifts in her sleep, brows furrowing as she makes a choked noise in the back of her throat.

Moving on autopilot after so many nights of this routine, Duke kneels next to the couch, fishing one of her hands from beneath the blanket. He gives it a few reassuring squeezes, keeping it a slow rhythm to pull her gently from her nightmare. She settles down in just a minute, brow smoothing out as she continues to sleep. 

The silence grows and Duke is all too aware that his heart is the only one beating. 

He doesn’t hear Phantom move. Doesn’t realize he’s right next to him until he sees Phantom’s hand reach out towards Chelsea. When Duke looks, Phantom is sitting on the floor next to Duke, looking at Chelsea with something soft and devastated in his eyes. His hand hovers about her head for a long moment, then slowly lowers to rest on her head. 

The touch looks gently, barely putting any pressure on her head, but it’s enough to make Chelsea’s eyes snap open, suddenly wide awake. She stares at Phantom with wide eyes, then sits up and looks between him and Duke.

“Who are you?” she asks in a small voice that makes Duke want to stand against the world to keep her safe. 

Phantom smiles. It’s casual and charming and makes him look like anyone else, as if he’s not a powerful king from a realm unreachable to humans. “Hi there,” he says, “I’m Danny. I’m a ghost like you. Signal called me and asked me to meet you.”

The Ghost King is good with kids. Who would have thought?

Chelsea looks at him for confirmation and only relaxes when he nods. “I’m Chelsea. What do you mean ghost? I’m not dead.”

Both he and Phantom tense, carefully keeping their expressions neutral. She hasn’t told him much at all, just that her parents were gone and forgot her and she got hurt, so she wanted to stay with ‘Mr. Signal’ because he’s a hero and heroes keep people safe and he was the only one who was Black like her. Duke hadn’t had the heart to say no, and began searching for her family, only to find that her parents had fled the state, and likely the country, after killing their only child through neglect and a dangerous environment. 

It was then that he realized that her powers were not because she was a meta, but because she was ghost.

It still hurts to realize how young she is, how much of her life had been stolen from her in an instant. Duke hadn’t been brave enough to broach the topic with her, instead choosing to let her grow comfortable in his presence, get them both settled into a routine now that he was her primary guardian. 

“I know it sounds scary,” Phantom says, “And you may not want to believe me, but it’s true. I’m sorry that you died so young, but that just means you get to hang out with me and other ghosts from now on!”

Chelsea crosses her arms over her chest and glares at him. “I am not dead,” she says.

“Cici, I’m sorry to say this, but you are,” Duke cuts in. “That’s why I called… Danny. You have new powers as a ghost, and he can help you get used to them.”

“I’m not dead!” she says again.

“Kid,” Phantom begins, but Chelsea shakes her head hard and hops off the couch.

“I’m not lying! Watch, I’ll prove it to you!” She closes her eyes and scrunches up her nose, concentrating. Her hands curl into tight fists by her sides, and the glow around her grows dim. Two faint, stuttering rings of light appear around her waist. They flicker and wobble in the air, as if weak and uncertain of their own existence, then split apart, one moving up towards her head while the other falls to her feet.

Beside him, Phantom sucks in a sharp breath, but Duke can’t turn to see what’s wrong when he’s trying to take in the sight of Chelsea suddenly full of vibrant color, looking more solid that he’s ever seen her, very much alive.

“See?” she says proudly, lifting her arms and doing a spin to show off her right she was. “I told you I’m not dead!”

“No, you’re not,” Phantom agrees, sounding shell-shocked. When Duke is finally able to look away from Chelsea to check on him, he looks awed. There’s the smallest smile on his face, just the slightest upturn of his lips, but it makes him look softer.

Duke turns his attention back to Chelsea before he can be caught staring. “Cici, can you come here for a second?”

She goes before he’s finished speaking, crossing the space between them in a single jump, then grins up at him. Her hair is a bit of a mess, the two buns he managed to get her hair into falling askew. He makes a note to visit the old aunties in the Narrows later to ask them to teach him how to do hair. For now, he holds out a hand and Chelsea drops an arm into it.

It seems to good to be true, having her be alive, but her pulse is steady and strong when he presses his thumb against the inside of her wrist. 

“Well,” he says, leaning back and letting go of her arm. “You certainly proved us wrong.”

Chelsea doesn’t have much time to look smug before PHantom quietly says, “You’re like me.”

“What?”

“You’re like me,” he tells Chelsea. “A halfa.”

She tilts her head to one side. “What’s that?”

“Someone who is half human and half ghost. Both dead and alive.”

Duke blinks, taking in the words, then turns to face Phantom so quickly he’s worried he might give himself whiplash. Halfa, he said. Like me, he said. 

And sure enough, two rings of light, bright and strong, appear around Phantom’s waist before splitting in half, moving over his entire body. 

Gone is the Ghost King, all powerful and adorned in dark clothing with a crown of ice above his head. In his place is a guy who looks to be Duke’s age, eyes a deep blue and his black hair messy, feet set solidly on the floor. He looks completely normal, completely human, and no longer an impossibility.

“You still up for learning how to use all your new powers?” Phantom asks.

Chelsea grins. “Yeah!” And then, with a quick flick of her eyes going from Phantom to Duke that he almost misses, very innocently asks, “Are you going to stay with us then?”

“I… don’t know?” Phantom looks to Duke for an answer.

Already, Duke can see this going two ways. The correct way forward, the normal one, has Phantom popping in every so often, taking Chelsea out for a few hours to work on training her and her powers. It’s easy and routine and they can keep their boundaries uncrossed and be professional. 

The other path is what Duke wants most that he shouldn’t impose onto the literal Ghost King. He could have Phantom living with them while he’s on Earth and out of Amity Park, having a place at the table, a section in the closet for his own clothes, a quietly domestic night together while Chelsea sleeps where they can get to know each other more, get to know each other outside of news reports and texts on a screen.

“You can stay with us if you want,” Duke offers, casually, “It might keep my apartment safe from her powers acting up on their own again.”

“Are you sure? I could always just fly in on the weekends or something.”

“I’d appreciate having you around. So you can help Cici.”

“If you don’t mind,” Phantom says, looking away. Like this, fully alive with a beating heart, it’s easy to see the blush steal away across his cheeks. 

“I don’t.”

“I don’t either!” Chelsea pops in, looking far too gleeful by their awkward conversation.

Duke can’t help but laugh, feeling lighter than he had in ages. The relief of knowing that Chelsea is alive, for the most part at least, eases the guilt of thinking he had been too late to save her, that there was no chance she could have made it out and had a future, makes him feel weak. All the exhaustion of the past few weeks hits him all at once and he wants nothing more than to collapse in bed and sleep for twelve hours.

“Alright, squirt,” he says, reaching out to pat her head. “It’s late. We can talk more in the morning, so go to bed. In your actual bed this time, not on the couch.”

Chelsea stands up taller, ready to argue, but Duke gives her a Look™ and she quickly shuts her mouth, nods, and drags her feet back to her room (the former guestroom he can never give any of the other Waynes ever again, once they find out about her). 

Sighing, Duke collapses onto the couch once he hears the door shut behind her. Phantom joins him after a few seconds, sitting tentatively on the edge of the couch. The cushion moves beneath his weight, another reminder of how solid and alive he is right not.

Duke wants to touch him, to reach out and feel for himself his pulse, the warmth of his body, his chest lifting with each breath. 

He doesn’t move. He stays where he is, hands carefully still, and tries to think past the dizzying thoughts of she’s still alive, I’m not too late, he’s still here, he’s alive.

“Rough week?” Phantom asks, voice purposefully light.

“Something like that.”

“You should get some sleep too.”

“I don’t think I can. Not after everything. My mind’s too loud right now.”

Phantom shifts closer to him, hesitant in a way that Duke has never seen before in him, and asks, “Want me to stay with you until you mind quiets down some?”

“Yeah. I’d like that. Thanks, Phantom.”

“You know, if I’m going to be around so often as Chelsea’s halfa mentor, then you might as well call me Danny.”

Truth be told, Duke didn’t think that was his real name. He’s glad to know it’s not. 

“Then call me Duke.”

“...Are you sure? You could still hide your identity from me.”

“Nah, I trust you. A name for a name, yeah?”

Danny smiles. “Duke,” he says, testing out the name, and it’s never sounded better than when it falls from Danny’s mouth.

“Danny,” Duke returns. He belatedly realizes that they’ve leaned towards each other, drawn together like gravity, stuck in each other’s orbit. It feels natural. It feels like this is where they’re meant to be.

Maybe he should be more cautious. They’ve only meant once before, after all. But he’s read all he could on Phantom and has seen how Amity Park loves him. He’s stressed and exhausted and trying to figure out how to look after a half-ghost child that’s already been dealt a bad hand in life. He should be keeping Phantom at a distance, watching over him carefully to ensure he isn’t a threat to Chelsea.

But Duke saw how he acted with Chelsea, so gentle and understanding and kind. That’s all he needed to see.

He may not know much about Danny, but he knows this: he is trustworthy.

Enough to entrust his identity to him.

Enough to entrust Chelsea to him.

It’s more than a favor; it’s a promise to walk this road together. 

There’s no one he’d rather do this with. 

“Thanks,” he says again, “For all of this. I know it’s a lot.”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t mind. Really. It’s nice to know there’s another halfa out there, no matter how she came to be one. Makes things feel less lonely.”

“Will you tell me more about halfas?”

“Later. Once you get some proper rest. We’ve got time, haven’t we?”

“We do,” Duke agrees, affection settling warm in his chest. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

Learning how to control her new powers won’t be easy for Chelsea. Learning how to take care of her won’t be easy. Learning how to do things together, as Duke and Danny rather than the Signal and Phantom, won’t be easy. But Duke knows with a certainty he feels in his bones that they’re going to be fine.

So long as they’ve got each other, they’ll be fine.

[tricoufamily]

kit and willoughby book side characaters kit and willoguhby book side charactesr

[kitkats-and-kittens]

I don’t read many Red Hood comics. Like obviously he’s there in some of the stuff I read, but I’m self aware enough to know that he isn’t going to be written the same way as he would be in a comic more central to his own story.

That being said. I genuinely do not understand why some fans make Bruce out to be the devil for not killing the joker??

Like I get it for Jason. He’s a kid. He’s hurt. He’s angry. He’s upset. He died. Like he’s probably not thinking very rationally here, but that’s something you can eventually learn to manage with time and therapy.

However Bruce not wanting to put aside his own already well established set of morals and kill a guy is like completely within reason???

I’ve seen a lot of Jason Todd stans make him seem like this horrible father for not placing Jason’s morals above his own and killing the Joker and I understand that it’s very complex issues, because the man’s son died, but if anything that should only cause a more nuanced viewpoint on the conflict.

Jason dying is horrible and you’re allowed to feel empathy for the guy. Of course you are, it sucked, but that doesn’t mean that Bruce is suddenly obligated to start killing people? Nor does it mean he should turn a blind eye to Jason killing people, just because he was hurt.

Bruce is allowed to be selfish. He’s allowed to look in the mirror and say “I don’t want to become a killer” and he’s allowed to go out into the world and do just that without being called an abusive father.

Maybe It’s me just not understanding the conflict completely. Again I really haven’t read many comics and most of this is through a very internet heavy viewpoint.

But I also feel like a lot of the nuance of the situation has been sucked out over the years and reduced to Jason whining about how his own father won’t sacrifice everything he stands for just to avenge him as though Jason is in a morally superior disposition to half the people he fights.

I’m not even that big of a Batman stan. I just genuinely don’t understand.

Also damn I’ve been posting a lot recently

[priceofreedom]

#Elmyra approving of Zack makes me so happy 😭 FF7 Rebirth 20 / ?

[kineticallyanywhere]

Time & Space pages 1-2 ( This is the start || ao3 (not yet!) || next ) Starts less than 24 hours after the death of Willy Stampler. With the job done, there's finally time to sort some things out. They just need the right amount of space.

[rip-headphones-users]

Takeover

Part #??? Out of #??? Of a fanfic I’ve been working on. I was planning on posting it to AO3 but it looks like I might be doing a comic adaptation instead. ; )

Yeah its the same fic as This Post.

And if you would like more context as to whats going on here, Read This.

[unjustgalaxy]

Lintroller fanart based on @justyouraverageleafykinnie fanfic?? more likely than u think etc go read that thing!! Could not stop thinking abt them!! and they cant stop thinking abt eachother, hell yeah

[introspectivememories]

timbern interconnected fates but not like by chance but like bernard wrestling with destiny to make sure he gets to have tim in his life

[beatcroc]

homest[ar/uck] posting. this was meant to be supplementary to the gerome comic as him 'explaining the joke' but i uhhhhhh forgot.

i'm not much for crossovers in the the traditional sense, but it IS one of my favorite character exploration exercises to just go like 'if x media existed in this universe, who would and would not be a fan of it?'. and these ones are pretty notorious and always very fun to mess with for that and so here we are

[chloecherrysip]

Mario's (nearly) successful training run

[zhuoyichenpretty]

Ep 22-23 Commentary

Ha...I was inexplicably nervous for eps 22-23 and it looks like I was right to be (-: What a rollercoaster. Spoilers below!

I've just come out of ep 23 and uh????? holy shit????? ZYC????

Ok ok but to backtrack, let's do my comments semi-chronologically:

Ep 22:

A carry-over from ep 21 that I have to mention—heck yeah PSJ give WZY hell. She doesn't have all that many lines but she sure knows how to make them count. Also seeing PSJ and WX get screen time just the two of them makes my brain go "yay <3"

Back to ep 22, loved the fake-out sundial ayeee that was a nice Chekhov's gun that also brings the real sundial back into relevance for later. Also me eating up the PSJ and ZYC crumb of an interaction has brought to my attention how starved I am of their screen time together.

This whole ep was a great lament towards the feared inevitable. Every sad downcast look from ZYC, every complicated glance WX gives him. A wonderful, terrible crossroads for these characters. I love that for ZYC especially, it's such an incredible mess of emotion coming to a head. Bad enough that he's come to care about the demon who killed his family and ruined his life, bad enough that he's sworn a blood oath he regrets and tied himself to punishing someone he no longer finds culpable, bad enough that ZYZ's life or death depends solely on his choice and ZYZ is constantly practically begging for death when ZYC wants him to live. How much immensely worse it makes the whole situation that WX is literally ZYZ's soulmate. And obviously the whole team has only grown more and more attached to ZYZ, too. ZYC's personal turmoil aside, how heavy must that responsibility and guilt be? For the finishing blow that only he can deliver to also deeply threaten every other person he cares about? Everyone understands in the abstract what must happen and why, but just like seeing ZYZ lose control firsthand, the gulf between understanding and experiencing is so unimaginably wide. If he kills ZYZ, can there really be no resentment from his friends? From WX?

Also it seems ZYC only wears cloaks so that he can give them to other people lmao

Ah fuck, the farewell drinks. I didn't even factor in how ZYC might not survive the encounter (''': The drama truly was like hm can we possibly give ZYC a worse day than that night his whole fam died? Maybe give him a bunch of new family members and also the blade and the fate and the sole responsibility to potentially irrevocably scar said family members with? And he might die in the process too? (-: haha maybe? (((-:

Oh. Oh. Addendum. I forgot this til I saw it mentioned in another post—ZYC recounting his oath as he watched WX smile when they discussed reviving the tree...I could feel him weighing those words against his own life, against ZYZ's life, against WX's happiness. One way out of this impossible situation is indeed to doom himself. I'm in pieces.

Damn if WX isn't dedicated heart and soul, going into the sundial like that. I'm sad no one could keep her company for those 300 years but also I guess that's kind of an impossible ask (and maybe not survivable for the other non-goddess mortals? I'm admittedly very unclear on sundial time loophole logistics). It would have been nice to see someone offer though, even just to be turned down.

Ooh I like the soul needle fake-out, given this show's penchant for retroactive "actually we had a plan all along" moments. A good subversion of the narrative's own style.

Also I saved this for the end because it doesn't really fit the linearity of my comments but what the fuuuuuuuck oh my god I absolutely flipped out at this scene:

I am at once rabidly intrigued and at the same time not sure if I'll be satisfied with whatever payoff will come for this so I don't want to overindulge in theorizing and setting my own expectations too high. Maybe this is just a fevered hallucination, maybe it means nothing (I hope it means something). But damn!!! What a gorgeous man crazy scene.

In conclusion, ep 22 had some good stuff for me. Plot development and reflection and tension enough that I may have been satisfied with just that one episode. But they gave us two, so onward to ep 23 comments!

Ep 23:

I like how many solid reasons the team has to suspect ZYC being possessed. Even though I withheld judgment during my watch given how quickly the show usually confirms that kind of stuff with a possession mark, just simply casting that doubt made the whole build up that much more intense.

ZYC slowly walking down the corridor with the whole grounds lit a somber and haunting gold—*chef's kiss*

ZYC's monologue to a catatonic ZYZ is so important to me. The closest we'll get to his internal monologue about this whole situation. The kinds of things said when we think there's no conscious listener.

Okay so, having finished this episode and looking back, Li Lun's hands coming up from behind ZYC was not to denote possession (at least in this episode), potentially is a visual from ZYZ's POV, and seems related to the above screencap. I am so, so curious. Once again, I'm stopping myself from further speculation because I want to be surprised but ahhhhhhhhh

PSJ shooting at Ao Yin is so gorgeous. Her action scenes seriously never disappoint—the creativity of her fight choreos!! Also very cool that the whole team is getting to take part in the action, not just the two male leads.

Bai Jiu possession was not on my bingo card but I sure do love that we literally saw the possession take place and I still didn't connect the dots. Good shitttt. Also oh no ): ZYC was telling the truth about the soul needle, he was just tricked ):

Seriously from the Ao Yin case to getting PSJ released to reviving the Divine Wood to getting tricked by possessed!Bai Jiu to making pear soup to fighting ZYZ to fighting Li Lun—when will ZYC get a single goddamn vacation day holy shit.

Also when will WX tear up that contract so ZYZ can stop having a mild heart attack every time he wants to kiss her ): &I love that they saved the 300-year montage for this moment. While their ship doesn't give me brainrot personally, who could be unmoved by that incredible and undisclosed sacrifice? That's soulmatism.

Okay, I'd seen clips of them filming the ZYC and Li Lun fight but damn I did not expect it'd be happening right now!! Right after already taking damage from ZYZ? And my god is Li Lun brutal. The two actors did such an impressive job on this entire fight, what with Li Lun's ease and ZYC's suffering. I really appreciated the extensive hand-to-hand combat after Li Lun literally obliterated ZYC's sword. (Also though, given the origin of that sword, I kept hoping for a flashback to ZYC's brother once it broke, but alas, no dice.) Anyway, the show does not play around about ZYC whump it seems. I was very very shook by that throat punch; that shit legitimately looked like it hurt.

Honestly, I had a hard time with the extended ZYZ and Li Lun conversation at the very end because oh my god someone please heal ZYC lmao. But of course, that's the end of the episode~~

Y'all...check on your local ZYC stans because I was not okay after all that (': I need a heaping dose of comfort after all that hurt, but as always I'm cautious of hoping for much from canon itself. So yeah! Ep 23 was solid, but I would probably be in better shape if today's release just ended on ep 22 ((':

Time to go wait for the cast's Hi6 episode to drop so I can heal my battered heart ;-;

[warlenys]

clara becoming the doctor made them incompatible. they became one person as every lover wants but it tore them apart. ended their ability to coexist. they couldn’t survive as one. as the hybrid. they were monstrous. but for a brief time they got to fuse themselves together. exist as one entity. they got everything they ever wanted and it broke them but even then. even then. they still didn’t get to kiss. would it have meant anything at that point? were they beyond that? or were they still denying themselves it? was the hybrid that dangerous even without them completely completely giving in to each other?? was there still further love to be reached??? either way. just insane. no one’s doing tragedy like them

[nayruwu]

"i can't believe the great kureto's cause of death is ragequitting out of life", says the mf that ragequit out of life eight years prior and then proceeded to forget about it when his best friend spawned him back in.

[gilded-gheists]

My feelings towards ao3 this morning.