Ughhh currently haunted by a Frankenstein (2025) AU idea, in which maybe Victor's notebooks exposing the Creature's nature didn't burn, but the letters containing his name did. The Creature learns of his nature but has no lead on how to find his Maker; he returns to the old man's home to find him dying, and then is forced to figure out his life from there.
Cue to 5 years later, Victor spots a very tall and familiar figure in Edinburgh... Surely what he proceeds to do isn't stalking, he's just shocked and overwhelmed and intensely curious about how his Creature manages a functional life! Adam (as he's been calling himself) is too kind and naive to turn him away, and maybe they strike up a friendship without Adam having any idea who Victor truly is, because Victor wouldn't tell him. 50k words of identity shenanigans slow burn later, Victor drops "I am your Father", Darth Vader style--
IDK how to explain this, but the way you draw Varian is SO GENDER. I look at him and I'm like "hmm yes. Very gender... This is THE trans experience." Basically, it gives me euphoria.
THAT MAKES ME SO HAPPY DUDE YOU HAVE NO IDEA. that is my WHOLE goal in how I draw Var, he is simply THE trans kid. No questions. I live and die with non-binary trans masc Varian
it's also an interesting difference to the novel how in GDT's Frankenstein, Victor does not even entertain the idea of saying "yes." he doesn't bend to anyone. not to society's qualms and the protestations of his college, the demands of his disciplinary hearing. not to Harlander, who in the end essentially begged just for hope. just for Victor to say "yes", since after Harlander's death (which would've been necessary for his brain to be put inside the Creature's skull) Victor could've simply not used his body. he could've simply lied to give him peace. but, completely caught up in his own head and failing to consider the consequences, he denies Harlander. who then obviously reacts violently, trying to force Victor's hand.
it's a parallel to how, when the Creature asked for a companion, Victor could've said "yes," but he doesn't even entertain the idea, he rejects it outright. he refuses to give any hope to the Creature, and fails to consider what reactions this might provoke-- that the Creature will be angry. that what he keeps denying will be sought after by force, that the people around him won't simply abide his whims however they come. that there will be consequences to his selfishness, like Harlander and Elizabeth and William dying.
"It's still all about your will, Victor". ultimately that's the reason for the Creature declaring later on "You may be my Creator, but from this day forward, I will be your Master." the Creature accurately identifies the source of the tragedy and sets out to break that horrible, horrible will, to force Victor to let go of his delusion of "conqueror". the madness that set all of them on this path, the madness that couldn't abide being told "no" by Elizabeth but refused to say anything other than "no" to the people around him. "The miracle is not that I should speak, but that you would ever listen!"
he'd told the Creature to kill him after Elizabeth and William's deaths, but that would have simply proven him right in his view of the Creature as the villain, the monster, so the Creature becomes the eagle feasting on Prometheus' liver instead. him dying then would have been too easy of a punishment. it's only after a long series of hurts and dealt pain, it's only on his deathbed that Victor truly listens. his will is allowed to bend when he has no other choice, when his body is broken and dying. when he doesn't have to live with himself after admitting to his wrongdoings, when he doesn't have to be the one who "wins it all" anymore. "My father gave me that name", and all Victor had done afterwards was try to measure up to it, to be it, but in the end it meant nothing. as he's dying, he wants it given back to him but not with fear, not like when Elizabeth begged the Creature to take her away from the man who'd killed her, not like when William told him he'd always feared him as his last breath left him. he wants it given back to him as proof of having once been loved.
I forget who posted this panel from Joker War recently in the tag, but it snagged on my brain and got some thoughts to percolate:
It's been established in many ways that Joker knows exactly where the line is: what he'd have to do to get Batman to snap, to get Batman to kill him. Seeing as Joker invites it so loudly and dramatically, it's obviously been a lot more focused on in comics. It's been directly spelled out that Joker relies on Batman to stop him in case he goes too far ("I can kill everything... and I need him to stop me," from Batman #49). But just like Harley says, and like the whole ordeal with the Batman Who Laughs showed, there's something similar in place for Bruce.
Bruce also knows where the line is. To many it might feel like Joker needs Batman too much to ever kill him, but that's not true; Joker also has a limit. Harley knows it too, and says it to Bruce directly: if you go mad, if you lose yourself, he'll actually kill you. Joker doesn't really want Batman to join him-- he hates the Batman who broke, and actively tries to destroy the Batman Who Laughs when he meets him. But Bruce also consciously relies on Joker, much like Joker does on him, to stop him if he went too far. He actively trusts Joker to keep him himself, in The Batman Who Laughs:
Batman actually gives Joker a gun. And tells him to shoot him. Which Joker does, exactly as promised.
...Alright, and from here on starts an even longer rant, about why Batman doesn't kill Joker and how the in Universe explanations for it are running out of anything rational. We're only left with the most codependent relationship on the planet particularly on Batman's side, and it couldn't have come to exist without DC's refusal to break the status quo. TLDR, it's driving me nuttier than usual at this moment in time, and I need to vent about it.
All the above is part of why, personally, I think that arguments going "Batman doesn't kill Joker because he wouldn't kill anyone" don't quite hold up anymore. Of course that part of it is Bruce's no-killing code, and it's true that he shouldn't be blamed or forced by anyone to become a murderer. But it's more than that. Bruce has developed a belief that, if he killed Joker specifically, he'd turn into a monster; and the Multiverse has done nothing but affirm that belief, since he's seen more than one version of himself turn into everything he feared after he'd personally killed Joker. He's come to feel that if Joker died (not even by his hands, hence the insane lengths he's gone to when it comes to saving Joker's life) the balance in Gotham would be shattered. He doesn't just think that Gotham would send him a worse monster (like he says in Death of the Family), not just that Joker would win, but rather that Gotham would take the horror that's contained within Joker and put it all back inside him. It's a fascinating strain of magical thinking, in which Joker acts as a negative to Batman's positive, in which Joker is both a vessel and a stopgap for Bruce's darkness. With Joker gone, where would it all go? Who would he be?
Judd Winick actually does something quite evil in an issue (that lives rent free in my brain and of which I've spoken of before, Batman #629) prior to Under the Red Hood, in which Bruce is infected with fear toxin and hallucinates Joker, Harvey and Jason-- but before he even knew Jason was alive. His hallucination of Joker wastes no time in asking why Bruce keeps him alive, and exposing the very heart of the matter: "You feel bad for me? Or are you just scared? Where are you without me? Where are you without any of us?" But when Jason's turn comes:
This is what I meant by evil: spelling out that Bruce is afraid of not being able to stop Jason because he loved him too much, while also establishing that Bruce is afraid of not being able to stop Joker because of how much he needs him. And then comes the story in which all Jason asked was that Bruce would do nothing while Jason shot Joker dead... with Bruce suddenly capable of stopping Jason. Capable of nearly killing Jason. He's able to overcome love, but he's not able to overcome the fear of who he'd become in Joker's absence. And all this was around 2006.
I do still dislike most of Zdarsky's run, but now in 2025, I find fascinating the concept of Bruce travelling the Multiverse, seeing worlds in which Joker had died...
...and having proof that even with Joker gone (by accident, through means that truly cannot be pinned on him), things wouldn't change. Bruce wouldn't change. What's frustrating, obviously, is how this has had zero repercussions so far-- because Bruce still saves Halliday, Zur still only breaks Joker's back and then Failsafe nicely tucks him into a cell with Bruce in Blackgate. Bruce still saves Joker's life and risks Jason's (again) in Hush 2.
We know that this is because, tragically, a change in the status quo of the Batman/Joker dynamic is highly unlikely. Joker cannot be allowed to die or get redemption due to him being a villainous DC cash cow. But in Universe, it just boggles my mind how with each iteration, with each story that piles onto Bruce's decision to keep the loop going... the established codependency grows.
Over time, over decades, we've gone from reasonable explanations like "Batman doesn't kill Joker because of his one rule", "Batman saves Joker because he can't let anyone die," "Batman saves Joker because he thinks everyone can be redeemed", to... "Batman doesn't kill Joker because he's afraid of who he'd become once he started", "Batman doesn't let Joker die because he thinks he needs him", to "Batman defines himself through Joker". To a cosmic level bond. We've even gotten to a point where we're shown Bruce being directly contradicted in these beliefs, and still not changing his behavior!
But then, what's left? In Universe, Joker's side has always been less hard to understand or contextualize; he wants to break Batman and he wants to die, and he's been doing his part. But on Batman's side, the continued decision to prioritize Joker's life (not simply choose to let him live) is just... fucking insane! I get Zdarsky literally having Bruce think "I am obsessed with him," because how else do you make sense of it all? What else could writers do, over years and years of Batman stories, other than intentionally and unintentionally portray Bruce as so emotionally invested in Joker that he's simply fucking incapable of letting go?
As a shipper, have I been eating it up over the years? Yes, absolutely. But at the same time, I want something to change. I know it's a common complaint in the DC comics fandom, especially of recent. But really, I just can't help but add one more to the pile. I want change, and at this point I barely care what it is as long as it stays. At this point it just pisses me off tremendously that writers keep hinting at potential ways to change the status quo, at such interesting avenues to explore, but then nothing ever goes anywhere! It's depressing, but while Joker's got a much more solid in Universe explanation for it, for Bruce this has become downright detrimental to his character. If you've ended up writing Batman with this pattern of choices for two decades of his life, at least don't draw attention to how utterly insane these choices have become, like with whatever Hush 2 is trying and failing to do. At least don't bait me with moments that promise change and then go nowhere.
...Let's just say, if I hadn't already written a highly meta fic about Batman being trapped in a loop, learning a lesson from it and then actually applying it in the real world, hence changing the status quo. By God, it's probably what I'd be doing now.
in the scene the Creature tracks Victor down for the first time, the way Victor beckons for him to come out of the shadows is so... clearly coming from a place of both anticipation and dread. it really makes you wonder how much Victor must've thought about it; the possibility of the Creature coming back to him, because he'd seen him heal before, so maybe he did survive. maybe he was intelligent enough to find him, and it's a nightmare to him and wishful thinking at the same time (after all, he did go back for his Creature). Victor assumes the Creature would come to thank him, but then all he gets-- the very first articulate thing the Creature says to him other than "Victor" and "Elizabeth" is a request to have another's companionship (as if having said "Elizabeth" wasn't criminal enough). Victor so clearly thinks in that moment that he's already given so much (including his leg, a limb he'd lost in that one moment of regret), yet the Creature has the gall to ask for more. but it's also possessiveness and a prideful, patriarchal inability to allow for his exclusion. "We can be monsters together," the Creature says hopefully, and the "Away from you, without you, not needing you" is unspoken. Victor can't stand for that, just like his own father despised the closeness between his wife and his son. despised anything in the family that wasn't about him, needing to assert his own importance. leaving aside the way Victor just immediately assumes the Creature means a female companion, his mockery when saying "Procreation. Reproduction. Mm... A home? A grave?" is coming from such malice: if I do not have a wife who loves me, children, a home, then you won't either. if I did not have a father who loved me, if I lost my mother and never had a real home, that is also what you will get.
in the end, the Creature rightfully calls him out: "Then it is still all about your will, Victor." Victor's protestations about the Creature's monstrosity ring hollow; he did not have any of these issues in the beginning, but developed them later when his anger and impatience drove him to find justifications for his own behavior, ways to make himself the victim. when his jealousy of Elizabeth showing affection towards the Creature drove him mad. most of all, at the very beginning of the scene, Victor says "I made you well." fascinating how that turns into "Never again will I make something like you, wicked and deformed," all because the Creature had asked him for the means to be happy, outside of him and unlike anything he'd ever been.
Another day, another rant (and in too much physical pain to do something else).
Each ghostbuster is essential to the team.
They all each represent something that, if taken out, would lead the group to perish (I’m thinking the Gozer and the Vigo battles).
First. Ray is the heart.
Across every films, he is the one that keeps the team alive (he buys the firehouse, continues the job on the second film…). He is the one who keeps holding on to wonder and compassion no matter how strange or dark things get. Yes, he is the one who chooses the “face of the Destructor” at the end of the first film, and look who it is : the stay puft marshmallow. He is gentleness, he is kindness. Even when faced with annihilation, he reaches for innocence, for something soft and sweet.
While others might see a haunting as a threat or a nuisance, Ray sees it completely differently, for him it’s a bridge : a last chance for peace, for forgiveness, for letting go. He literally opens a shop where he can help people to find closure. He is the one bringing back the team together, again and again.
Second. Winston is the soul.
Winston arrives a few weeks after the others have founded the Ghostbusters. But, my gosh, it’s when he gets there that they become the Ghostbusters.
He doesn’t need to see to believe, but he also doesn’t let belief cloud his sense of right and wrong. He asks the big questions : about God and the apocalypse with Ray, about life after death, about the cost of saving the world. He doesn’t need any scientific degree, he has the trust and belief in his team. And that’s more than enough for him.
At the beginning of the first film he says he would believe in anything as long as “there’s a steady paycheck in it.”. But in the end, he still stays. In the second film he still is with Ray at the birthday party and after that, Winston is the one who keeps the legacy alive.
Third. Peter is the arms.
He’s the handshake, the door-kick, the arm thrown around a friend’s shoulders. He’s the first to face down a ghost with nothing but a wild grin and a witty remark. And it would be easy to think of him only as Peter Venkman the chatter, the comical one.
But he is so much more. His arms keeping reaching outward throughout the first two films : and it’s to push, to pull, to provoke, but most of all : to protect.
Peter is the arms that catch his friends when they fall : the one who lifts them back up, even if he pretends he doesn’t care. He may roll his eyes at sentiment, but he’s the one who acts, who steps in, who gets his hands dirty when it counts.
Fourth. And we might think last but no. Egon. The brain.
Yes, everyone knows, Egon is the brain of the Ghostbusters, it’s not a big surprise. He is the “mad scientist”, the creator of the devices. We all are aware of it. But it’s more about how he uses his brain as his secret silent language to care and love.
Every plan he makes, every tool he builds, is for the sake of those he loves. He keeps the dangers at bay not just because he’s able, but because he can’t bear the thought of losing the people who matter most (let’s not enter the whole Afterlife discussion because I don’t even want to imagine how it felt like to care so much for everyone inside this massive haunted house).
Lastly, because she is the Ghostbusters too and without her there would be nothing : Janine. She is the ears.
The one who listens, truly listens, in a world too loud with chaos.
She’s the first point of contact for every desperate client, the doorstep between the public and the boys. Janine hears it all and stays. She could quit, she keeps repeating it in the first film : but she doesn’t. Because she adores them.
She is more than a secretary: she is a member of the team and a confidant. Her listening is active, fierce, protective of them. She is the ear that links everyone together.
Because, in the end, to answer the question : who you gonna call ? Not just the ghostbusters. But Janine Melnitz too.
