#can they have the happy ending?

[stars-n-spice]

no you don't understand. I need the Bad Batch to have a happy ending. I need them all to make it out alive. I need them to all be together. I need them to be a family once again. I need them all alive, happy, healthy, thriving. I need them safe and healing and growing.

I need Hunter to be able to be at peace. To become what he so clearly wanted to be at the start of the series; a father. For him to have what he fought so hard for. To know that he's more than a soldier. I need him to be able to relax knowing his brothers, that Omega is safe and will forever be safe. I need need need him to have that peace. To have that kind of life. The life he didn't think he'd get, that no clone ever thought that they would get, but yet...And I need him to grow and learn from these mistakes and be that older brother for all of them I know he can be. Seeing him want a life different than what he was essentially made for that badly for him not to get it is going to absolutely destroy me.

I want Tech to come back. I want it so bad. I know Star Wars can't keep getting away with "killing a character and bringing them back" but what's doing it one more time? Am I biased because Tech is my second favorite Batcher? Yes. But listen, I just need him to return and be reunited with his family. I need him to see Crosshair again. I need him to see and be with Phee again. Yes the build up to his death was great and the send off with his goggles was, in my opinion beautiful, but I just really want him back. I miss him so much. He means so much to so many people and I just want to see him alive and well again.

I need Echo to come back and I need him to stay. Wrecker and Tech might be my favorites, but when it really comes down to it? Echo is my comfort character. When I'm upset and really struggling, what usually brings me back is thinking about what would Echo do? What would Echo say to me to get me through this? Echo means so so much to me and it hurts so much to see him reduced to a background character. It makes me think what even was the point of bring him back just to reduce him to what he is now? And I'm so so scared they're going to kill him off for shock value or to "explain" why he isn't with Rex in Rebels, but that's just so fucking stupid to me after having done nothing with his character since like the middle of season 2 of the Bad Batch. Bring him back, please. And let him be at peace for once too!! Goddammit, all this shit he's had to go through; getting fucking exploded, being a prisoner of war, losing Fives, losing his brothers because his chip malfunctioned, having to see what becomes of clones after everything they sacrificed for the galaxy-Like you already "killed". him off once, there's no need to do it again. Just bring him back and reunite him with the others, please.

I need Wrecker to get to have his family all together. On top of that, I need him to get the recognition he deserves for all that he does and has done. Omega might be the heart and soul of the team but Wrecker's the glue and arguably just as much as the heart and soul too. He's the protector, I'm sure he feels it's his responsibility to keep them together, to keep them safe. I want him to continue living his life knowing that he succeeded in doing so and now doesn't have to worry about something like that because they are safe. They're all together again and they're happy and they're safe. He can relax and enjoy what they used to have before it all went to shit. It's so obvious that he cares so much about his brothers and Omega in his own unique ways. Each of the members of the Batch have their own unique dynamics within each other, but it really seems like Wrecker is the one who has one with each of them. And yeah, he's my favorite so I'm going to be biased and I want him to make it out alive and I want him to be happy goddammit.

I need Crosshair to stay the fuck alive. I need him to continue to heal and grow and be back with his family again. I need him to be reassured and to feel safe and loved again. I cannot take another instance of a character who used to be so lost and broken finally getting healing and some peace only to sacrifice themselves again. To have someone go through so much only start to heal and then rip that away from them? I need him to be at peace. I need him to enjoy all that he's missed out on. I need to see him okay and content and healing and living. I don't think I can deal with seeing all of that being ripped away from him. Please just let the man be at peace for once in his fucking life. I am begging. You don't understand, he's healing; mentally, physically, he's getting better and to just,, take all of that away? Can't just ONE character please get a happy ending?? Like if any one of them deserve to see it through the end, it's him.

I need Omega to get the childhood she was cheated out of. I don't know how many times I've sat and thought about Omega only for me to burst out into tears. She's been isolated for nearly all of her life. At the most, she was free for two years out of her FOURTEEN years of existence. She went through ALL of that before the age Ashoka and Padmé were when they were just STARTING to go through the horrors. Yet she's remained so brave and so strong and so determined. She's endured and survived and I want her to thrive. I want her to have all her brothers together once again. I want her to grow up alongside them. I want her to be able to be a child for once. To experience life through those lenses. I don't want her to have to endure another loss.

I need to see this group of individuals who never really fit in have their place in the galaxy. I need to see them, all created with clear intents and purposes to fight in a war as cannon fodder find new purposes. I need to see these burnt-out kids catch a damn break for once. This family of neurodivergents who spent their entire lives either isolated or distant from everyone else because they were "different" and "special" get that well-deserved ending where they're all safe and happy and have a purpose and a place in the galaxy because fucking hell. I wanna know there's hope for me too.

just AAGUUHHH. I've never wanted a happy ending for anyone more than I want it for the Bad Batch.

[ionomycin]

night shift

[abandoned-quiche]

I LOVE ALL OF THESE CHARACTERS BTW. I DO NOT WANT TO SEE YOUR HATE FOR THEM ON MY POST

[resvarie]

inevitable anders dragon age qifrey wha cover redraw

[lemongogo]

trimax blue skies >>>>>

[erisgekko]

various fun gang ships 4 pride ig :)

and the boy

[chloesimaginationthings]

Friendship never dies in FNAF..

[egophiliac]

I don’t think we’ve ever seen you draw knight of dawn before 🤔 what are your thoughts about him? Or take?

I've drawn him a couple of times, just really little/in the background. but I should draw him more, I love this guy a lot! I have many, many thoughts about him and the way he parallels Silver...and also I think it is extremely funny that his ghost is stuck in a ring. especially considering where that ring has been for the last 16-ish years.

[stevebabey]

pre-steddie (its rly scratching the itch atm), steve harrington being a sad drunk :(, angst with a happy ending, 1.4k

If you asked him how it transpired, Eddie couldn’t tell you — but somehow, there’s a drunk Steve Harrington on the Munson’s couch.

Physically, he’d hazard a guess Steve walked all the way from whatever party he’d been at. Which is a concern in itself—either Steve wandered through the woods or he wandered quite some way, but that’s a whole other can of worms.

The why of why Steve’s here—why he chose to sought out Eddie in particular—is another mystery altogether.

If Eddie had to guess, he’d say somewhere between the commonality of crashing at each other’s place to keep the nightmares at bay and a night of drinking is how Steve ended up here.

It’s nearing midnight the clock tells him, blinking red from the microwave. Steve’s holding a glass of water that he’s sipped from only once.

And he’s sad.

Considering it, Eddie hadn’t thought Steve would be a sad drunk. Especially if you consider the sheer amount of parties he threw as a teenager.

It just doesn’t quite fit into his ever changing picture of Steve Harrington. Like a puzzle piece the wrong shape that doesn’t fit with the rest. Happy drunk? Horny drunk? Those made better sense than this.

But then again, Eddie stopped trying to make sense of Steve a couple months after the Vecna-episode of their lives.

(It’s sort of something he really likes about Steve, that he can’t ever really pin him down — that he’s always surprising Eddie.)

Either way, the fact remains that Steve is drunk and Steve is sad.

Eddie just doesn’t know about what.

“C’mon,” Eddie nudges the glass in Steve’s hand gently, the second time tonight. “Gotta drink up, Stevie, lest you risk the wrath of tomorrow’s hangover.”

Steve’s slumped sideways on the couch, not too drunk to be out of it, but evidently rather physically beat. He’s leaning his head up against the ratty leather of the couch, his eyes closed.

Eddie sits opposite him, enough distance to keep it friendly, but close enough to catch the glass if Steve suddenly decides he doesn’t feel like holding it anymore.

He wants to sit closer, wants to maybe even hold Steve’s hand. Cup his face and murmur sweet nothings until sad drunk Steve is replaced by someone happier.

Eddie swallows the desire down, away.

By all accounts, there’s nothing Steve’s said or done to give away his sadness. Eddie only knows he’s sad from that slight downturn of his mouth — the slight jut of his lip. The world’s most adorable pout if it wasn’t being caused for bad reasons, Eddie thinks.

He knows what it looks like because it’s what Steve looks like when he wakes from a nightmare. When he’s properly distressed, thrust to the verge of tears. Eddie knows the sight well. (And Steve knows his.)

On the couch beside him, Steve makes a little noise in response to the nudge. His eyes crease open.

He looks tired. It’s not the exhaustion that comes with terror, with having sleep chased from you, but… bone-deep tiredness.

Eddie’s lip part, unsure if it’s to urge Steve to drink some water again or just to ask what’s wrong when—

“No one wants it.” Steve says, in the smallest voice. It’s barely a whisper.

Eddie’s brows draw together. The sadness in Steve’s words travel out, pushing an ache into his chest.

“Wants what?”

Steve is silent. He’s not looking at Eddie — he wasn’t before, but now his gaze is downcast, studying the glass in his hands. His finger traces the rim.

“Wants what, Steve?” Eddie tries again.

This time, Steve sighs and it looks like it takes the wind out of him completely. “My…”

There’s a crack in his voice. Steve clears his throat and closes his eyes again, this time scrunched up as if he’s resisting the emotion that tries to take over.

“My stupid love. Keep… keep tryna give it, but no one wants to take it.” He inhales jaggedly, turning an inch and pressing further into the couch, like he’s hiding. His voice is muffled and wrecked. “No one wants it.”

Something splinters in Eddie’s chest, slivers of agony burying beneath his skin. He’s speechless.

How can Steve think that? How can he believe that?

“I do,” Eddie says, before realising what’s he’s saying.

Steve stiffens on the couch, tentatively digging his face out from hiding. His downturned eyes still have that warbling sadness and Eddie just needs to make it better — even if it means throwing his pathetic crush under the bus.

“Eddie-” Steve says, wary and tired all at once, as if he’s saying don’t do this, don’t lie to me.

“I do. It sounds lovely,” Eddie insists, completely truthful. “If you want someone to give it to, I’ll take it. I want it.”

Steve eyes him. Some of that melancholy in him has turned to apprehension. He sniffles a bit and sighs again.

“Not- not like that.” Steve murmurs, eyes falling back to the glass in his hands. He speaks with a lilt of embarrassment, as though he thinks it’s shameful to care this much. “Not as a friend, Eddie.”

A stone grows in Eddie’s throat. It’ll hurt like hell to swallow it, to speak, but Steve has always been worth it.

“I know,” Eddie breathes. He can’t quite keep all his nerves out of the words and they jam up in his mouth for a moment. “Not like that, Steve.”

He desperately wants to grab his own hair, to fiddle with it, release some tension, but he also doesn’t want to break the quiet softness between them.

The fridge hums in the silence. The clock on the microwave blinks back midnight.

Wishing hour? Maybe in some myths and stories. Eddie clings it anyway.

Steve’s hazel eyes are a little wider now. A little more awake. He’s picked his head up, no longer leaning against the couch cushions.

“You…”

Freak. Fag. Eddie’s brain helpfully supplies every awful way this could roll, entirely too late. He tenses up, shoulders curling in, a minuscule motion.

But Steve doesn’t look disgusted, he looks a little in disbelief.

“You… want it?” He asks, that same quiet whisper.

And that does a number of Eddie’s heart—the enormity of Steve’s disbelief that someone would want his love, that the rest of it—the semantics, the fact that boys can’t kiss boys—doesn’t even matter to him.

“Yeah,” Eddie croaks. He nods jerkily, the nerves still there, even with Steve’s easy acceptance. “I do. I’d love to have it.”

“Oh,” Steve says. He’s laid his head back down, his hair scrunched up against the leather, but his eyes are still on Eddie. Not scrutinising, just studying. There’s still that hazy look to them, no doubt the alcohol still in his veins.

“I never… didn’t think…” He’s murmuring more to himself. From the concentration of his gaze, he’s thinking hard. He sniffles again, nose twitching and then frowns, eyes cast to the side, before,

“Okay,” Steve says finally, voice quiet. “If you… if you mean it.”

Then he unfurls his hand, the one that had been tracing the glass, and puts it forward. Between them on the couch.

Eddie eyes it, stomach swooping, pulse thudding, and then does what he does best; throws caution to the wind. Steve might hate him tomorrow but tonight, Eddie won’t hide.

Their fingers slot together easily, two perfect puzzle pieces.

Eddie wonders if him in Steve’s life, him like this with Steve, is one of those things that would work—would make sense. If he wants to make sense with Steve or instead be another surprising thing about him.

(That Steve Harrington might like boys. Might like Eddie.)

Steve is gazing at their joined hands. For the first time since he got to Eddie’s trailer, his lips turn upward, a very small yet happy smile. He gives a very light squeeze with his hand, the lack of strength evidence of his sleepiness. Eddie squeezes back nonetheless.

Then Steve’s eyes are closed and in a few deep breathes, he’s out like a light.

It’s a careful process to extract the glass of water from Steve’s clenched hand, but Eddie manages it. It sits on the edge of the coffee table and when Steve wakes up, mouth dry and in need of water, it will be there.

And so will Eddie.

The burning possibilities of what happens come tomorrow—when Steve’s sober and actually thinking straight (ha)—filter through Eddie’s mind, but he can’t find it in himself.

There’s no regret of he’s done. What he’s said, what’s been revealed.

It’s tomorrow’s problem (or tomorrow’s fantasy come true…?), but til then, Eddie burrows into the couch and readies for a sore neck tomorrow morning.

He should really get up and turn the lamp off, Eddie thinks to himself. Then Steve snuffles in his sleep, uses their intertwined fingers to bring him closer, and he forgets all about it.

[glitchgh0sty]

The artistic fuel is strong with this one TuŤ <3

Pfft- do I have a problem?… nah. The Transformers Mecha Pilot au has simply taken over an average sized portion of my noggin

Now you must excuse me as I go panic over the new Blurr chapter like a tfo adjacent Bumblebee on an sugar high

[ibahibut]

💀: Fewer wounds, more kisses from me.

🐦‍⬛: Contract's accepted, mi amor.

Music inspiration: A Little Death by The Neighbourhood

[vaguely-concerned]

the strength it must have taken for illario to not immediately go full 'lmao since when have you even had a kiss hello lucanis' sibling violence mode during the café talk. inspirational. rook and lucanis really were doing all that right in front of his salad huh

[bluerosefox]

Her Astrophel and Sterling

hmmm

Hmmmmmmmm

You know what.

You know those AU's where the Batfam finds or learns about either hidden or thought to be dead Al Ghul Danny! with a deaged/daughter Dani (Ellie) (I should know, I created a few of those storylines) but what if, now hear me out, what if instead of them finding Danny first its Talia.

Do I want Talia discovering her thought to be dead son to be alive? Yes. Do I want her to find him while investigating Amity Park when the League gets reports of 'Lazarus creatures/water'? Yes.

DO I WANT HER TO KNOCK ON THE FENTON'S DOOR, fully ready to pretend/honey talk her way into the house to uncover what the Fenton's know, ONLY TO MEET A LITTLE ELLIE?!

YES.

Ellie whose eyes and hair look like a copy of her Beloved but she can see bits and pieces of herself as well. Talia knows the child in front of her was not fully her's though but everything makes sense when she hears a voice, a voice she hasn't heard in ages but as a mother just knows, speak out.

"Ellie! I thought I said do not answer the door my Sterling."

"But Daddy, yous was busy fighting the hotdoggys!"

Talia's eyes widen when she finally catches sight of familiar black hair and blue eyes.

and she could only lightly whisper a old nickname she hasn't dared uttered in ages, a name she secretly gave her son due to his love of the stars "Astrophel..."

[hinamie]

domain expansion

[prlssprfctn]

I've been brewing this post for far too long in my drafts, but I need more doomed!Bruce and Jason throughout universes. And it is not even always about the same Jaybin, dying in the warehouse scenarios!

Sometimes Jason is just a kid, who died in front of Batman, who maybe jumped in between Batman and the villain recklessly, to keep him safe, and whose blood stuck under Bruce's nails. His face haunts him in nightmares, still.

In other realities, Bruce meets Jason as a teen, and they never even get to become father and son officially - but they slowly get into each other's lives, until something awful happens, leaving a ghost of a smirking kid stroll behind Bruce's hunched figure for the rest of his life.

Or maybe it is one of these realities, where Jason crawls out of the Alley Crime himself, and manages to become famous in Gotham; the one, where he opens a charity fond, dedicated to people, who fight with the drug addiction. Bruce Wayne is sympathetic of a kid he meets during some of the events, and as they slowly start contacting each other more often, getting closer, he promises himself to protect him. Expect, Batman is late to save Jason Todd from the hands of yet another villain.

It could be the priest Jason Todd that meets bleeding out Batman on the stairs of the church, and who helps him out, for what he later pays with his life. Or they are not really vigilantes in any of these universes - just father and son.

And in some of these universes, they reconcile. In one of them, some of the medics connect the dots that a catatonic boy, who is covered in dirt, calling for his dad, for Bruce is Bruce's Wayne dead son, and try calling him. In another, LoA!Jason with his memory still being in a haze, crosses his path with Batman, before getting dipped in the Lazarus Pit.

But the point stands.

In all of them, Bruce Wayne is too late. In all of them, Bruce Wayne fails to save Jason Todd.

[chloesimaginationthings]

So I have a sticker club now on my Patreon!