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mytimeconsumingsidehobby · 2 years

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I posted 756 times in 2021

26 posts created (3%)

730 posts reblogged (97%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 28.1 posts.

I added 190 tags in 2021

#batman - 38 posts

#jason todd - 32 posts

#bruce wayne - 22 posts

#batfamily - 21 posts

#ao3 - 18 posts

#red hood - 13 posts

#dc - 12 posts

#loki - 12 posts

#lotr - 12 posts

#dick grayson - 10 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#plus for irl friends to interact with me on tumblr i’d have to actually talk to people which is not something i do on a frequent basis

My Top Posts in 2021

Just came across this again and it made me laugh so now I’m yeeting it into the void to ensure it’s continued existence on the internet via this hellsite (affectionate).

63 notes • Posted 2021-07-09 05:17:58 GMT

I made a uquiz full of entirely subjective questions to tell you what batkid (or friend) you are.

72 notes • Posted 2021-08-16 01:06:04 GMT

I want to see every member of the Justice League being intimidated, if not low key terrified by Batman. Including the ones he actually considers friends. Better yet, he to some extent considers all of them friends. But he’s a scary dude, alright?

Except none of the kids think so. It probably started with the first Robin absolutely roasting Batman and somehow getting an entire container of chocolate chip cookies out of it.

Now don’t get me wrong, the kids all take Batman seriously, and respect the hell out of him, but they’re not scared of him.

He is Batdad™️.

At least two members of the JL had to make quick and discreet (but mostly quick) exits towards the bathrooms during a JL meeting in the last month due to the Batglare™️.

628 notes • Posted 2021-09-22 17:50:11 GMT

HC that Talia formally adopted Jason because I’m here for Good Mom!Talia. And also because I find the following scenario absolutely hilarious:

Ra’s: YOU are an absolute DISGRACE! You will NEVER…

Damian: *rolls his eyes and walks away*

Ra’s: GET BACK HERE YOU LITTLE…

—————

Ra’s: My greatest triumph. My greatest failure.

Bruce: You really don’t give up, do you.

Ra’s: I will have my heir, Detective. I…

Bruce: *resumes fight*

—————

Ra’s: Join me, Detective.

Tim: No.

Ra’s:

Ra’s: Fine, you know what? I am not above begging. My protege left, my grandson abandoned me, and you are the last possibility standing between order and the inevitable chaos that will come if you…

Tim:

Ra’s: I feel like I lost you somewhere.

Tim: You think?

Ra’s: Consider this me begging then.

Tim: What could possibly be so bad? Aren’t you functionally immortal anyway?

—————

Jason: ‘Sup.

Ra’s:

Ra’s: WHO LET THE MENACE BACK IN HERE? If you think for ONE SECOND that I will let this go without heads ROLLING, you…

Jason: Ah, I missed you too.

Jason: Oh, and Mom says hi.

Ra’s:

See the full post

1930 notes • Posted 2021-07-22 14:26:55 GMT

Okay so we’ve all seen those headcanons where Batman is rumored to be dating Bruce Wayne, and that’s where he gets his funding to be Batman, etc. (an avenue of hilarity I have yet to grow bored of).

But now I want to see a universe where that is more than a rumor, and is instead generally assumed as fact.

Like, no matter what Bruce does, everyone just assumes he’s dating Batman. Nothing seems to dissuade people of that notion. Nothing.

Metropolis: Oh yes, we have this flying alien Boy Scout keeping us safe.

Fawcett City: We have a…demi-god? or something. He’s cool.

Central City: Our guy runs around stopping crime, but like, really fast.

Star City: We have a guy using a weapon that’s been obsolete for a few hundred years and we have no idea who he is, what are you talking about.

Gotham: We have Bruce Wayne’s sugar baby.

5591 notes • Posted 2021-10-17 05:48:30 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

Just to be clear, I have a side blog specifically for DC/Batman things I just occasionally post on the wrong blog and then you get this

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #batman #batkids #batfamily

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avaritia-apotheosis · 3 years

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Phantom Children Ch.4

In Which: exposition for exposition's sake exists, and Vlad looks way more suspcious than he ought

| AO3 | Prologue | 3 | [4] | 5

VLADIMIR MASTERS. Human male in his mid-forties, and most notably the founder and CEO of VladCo, a billion-dollar industry that mostly specializes in manufacturing weapons and technology. Graduated summa cum laude from the University of Wisconsin despite having to drop out due to a lab accident in his second year, landing him in the hospital. Despite being based primarily in Wisconsin, he made an unexpected move to Amity Park Illinois shortly after reuniting with his college friends Drs. Madeline and Jack Fenton.

Not even a year later, Masters ran for mayor of Amity Park and won the election by a landslide. Suspicious, considering Masters being an unknown and the former mayor Montez being quite popular. It’s during Masters’ tenure in office that reports of ghost attacks to the Justice League steadily died down.

“Why?” Damian asked.

Barbara shrugged, pulling up a few files on the screen. “I originally had a theory that related to VladCo’s buyout of Axion Labs—a technological research and manufacturing company that’s mostly local to Amity—being a factor. Within the last couple of years, they had been experimenting with highly volatile chemicals with hallucinogenic properties. Amity had always been known for being extremely superstitious with its ghosts, and if Axion Labs had somehow accidentally released that chemical into the city, well…” She leaned back into her chair, hand twisting in the air. “You could bet how that ended up. The hysteria around ghosts only grew worse in the last two years, with suspected sightings from once every few weeks to multiple in a single day. Early attempts to capture sightings were unsuccessful, and soon enough Amity Park was just written off.”

Much like the mass hysteria surrounding the urban legend of the kuchisake-onna in Japan in the late 1970s, Bruce thought. He pulled up some news footage from Amity Park dated a few years back of citizens being interviewed about their ghostly encounters. Beside these videos were a few photos taken by a shaky camera, showing bright blurs of light streaking across the sky or vaguely humanoid shapes rising from the ground.

“So VladCo., bought out Axion Labs, improved its security, and slowly helped detoxify the town?” Damian shifted his weight onto his other leg and crossed his arms.

“That’s what I thought, but—”

“But the ghosts ended up being real.” Bruce pulled up a video of a field reporter-slash-weatherman taking cover as a figure dropped from the sky, breaking through the walls of a building. The figure—features distorted by an eerie glow—shot out of the rubble just in time before a green blast hit it.

Oracle enlarged other news footage with a few taps on her keyboard. Beings zooming through the air. Massive plants erupting from the ground. Technology coming to life. Each video more worrying than the last, and most showing some footage of a figure bathed in a white glow. “I’d be hard pressed to call any of these faked.”

It begged the question as to how Amity Park survived this long unscathed. Since, if he remembered correctly, even the Dark Leaguers tended to avoid Amity Park like the plague. “They have their own heroes, then?”

“Think along the lines of vigilantes with unofficial support.” A few more files popped up on screen. One showcased a female in a full-length black and red body suit on top of a hover board. The other was a male; young, perhaps a teenager, with white hair and a black and white suit. Hazmat? “The Red Huntress and the Phantom of Amity Park.”

“Partners?”

“More like enemies working on the same turf. Sources place Phantom as appearing first, though it seems Red Huntress has more government support in the end despite there being no official statement. They seem to be the most effective ghost hunters in town, though far from the only ones. The Fentons of Fenton Works are also acting as ghost hunters, though their track record of success leans more towards their anti-ghost tech than any hunting. The town’s even attracted visitors from the Ghost Investigation Ward; a side branch of Cadmus though a now defunct organization.”

“This doesn’t make sense,” Damian said. “If anything, this should be more than enough reason for a League intervention. Why the Justice League didn’t come sooner is the real question here.”

Bruce’s lips thinned. “That’s because we were warned off it.”

“What?”

While there was no rule against heroes entering another hero’s city, there were certain unspoken rules that demanded that JL members avoid claimed cities or stay just outside of city lines until given permission to enter. Some were especially strict about it such as Batman’s ‘no metas or outsiders’ rule. Others were more lenient, simply requesting a warning before entering.

Amity Park, despite having no listed heroes in the database, was marked with heavy ‘Do Not Interact’ warnings for humans and metas alike.

“Justice League Dark said that under no circumstances should the League interfere in Amity. The situation was never explicitly laid out for us except to say that everything was being handled.”

“Oh yeah,” Oracle chimed. “Constantine even had it bolded, underlined, italicized, and in all caps. The occult community was very clear about everyone staying away—and apparently this decision had support from Amity Park too.” She pulled up another document. “That’s probably what led to the decline in their ghost reports, actually. Amity’s claims were considered bogus and brushed aside. No one outside their town—not even their sister town of Elmerton—believed them, so they simply stopped asking for help.”

Strangely, it reminded Bruce of Gotham. Both cities existed in its own isolated sphere, unwilling to let any outsiders interfere in its business.

“It’s safe to assume, then, that whatever Ra’s al Ghul wants with Amity, it has to do with these ghosts. Do we have anyway to contact the town’s vigilantes?”

Oracle shook her head. “Ghost attacks within the past few months have slowly died down along with sightings of Phantom and Red Huntress. Your best bet is asking Masters directly.”

Damian glowered. “Masters blatantly sent out an invitation for Batman to my father. How do we know that Masters hasn’t somehow found our secret identities?”

“Unlikely,” Bruce said. “Vlad Masters, despite his wealth, has done well to keep a low profile. He’s met Bruce Wayne a total of three times within the last decade and Batman not at all.” That, and with the kind of spyware Batman has, he’d be able to tell when, where, and who was trying to dig deep into Batman’s past. Masters hadn’t even registered as a ping.

“Besides, there’s always a few rumors of Wayne Enterprise’s involvement with Batman. All this tech has to come from somewhere, no?”

“How long is Masters staying in Gotham?”

“Umm…” Oracle leaned forward in her chain and flipped through a half-dozen windows. “Going by his reservations at the Gotham Royal Hotel, he’s leaving tomorrow.”

Bruce pivoted on his heel, heading deeper into the Cave. “We better make this count, then.”

------

According to Oracle’s intel, Vlad Masters was staying at one of the executive suites in the Gotham Royal Hotel. A titanic structure with forty-eight floors, two towers, and the gothic aesthetic that never seemed to leave Gotham’s architecture.

Scaling the building as well as entering the suite proved no challenge for Batman and Robin. But upon entrance, it was abundantly clear that the room was vacant.

“Are you sure you guys are in the right room?” Bruce could hear the clicking of Oracle’s keys through their comms. “Masters had reserved the suite on the west tower.”

“Yes we’re in the correct room, Gordon,” Robin hissed.

“Codenames only, Robin.”

Robin clicked his tongue, sweeping the common room for any hidden bugs or cameras as Batman scouted out the rest of the room. The bed was made to hotel standard and the bathroom towels all completely replaced. There were no clothes in the hotel closet or dresser.

The only thing left that indicated occupancy of the room was an unmarked manila envelope unsubtly tucked within a pillowcase.

Robin tensed at the sight of it. “A detonator of some sort?”

Batman rotated the package, holding it up to his scanner. “Doesn’t seem to be. Regardless, it might be better to take it back to the Batcave and locate Masters ag—” The envelope started ringing. A standard ringtone found in most phones. Quickly, but carefully, Batman opened the manila envelope and dumped its contents onto the bed. A ringing burner phone and a flash drive came tumbling out.

Batman threw the flash drive at Robin before answering the phone, holding it up against his ear but saying nothing.

Silence. Then, Masters’ voice filtered in through the phone with a strange echo-like quality. “Good evening, Batman! I’m so glad my invitation managed to get passed along.”

Batman growled into the speaker, “What do you want, Masters?” He signaled Robin to do another sweep of the room for any signs of Masters they might have missed.

“I sincerely apologize for not being there to meet you myself; incredibly rude of me, I know. But it cannot be helped, the shadows are growing ever bolder.”

“So, you are aware then, of the League of Assassins’ presence in Amity Park?”

“A league of assassins? What a terrifying notion that is.” Batman frowned. It was unlikely that they had misread his words at the gala, so why was he acting unaware now? Could he be watched? “Why such a group would appear in my little town, I wouldn’t even dare to guess.”

Robin came back into the room and signaled back ‘negative.’

“Why did you call for us, Mayor Masters?”

“Do you know what is so very tragic, Batman?”

“This is strange,” Oracle said. “I can’t pick up his signal. He’s not appearing on any of my cameras, either.”

“When someone so young dies much to soon.” A pause. “Could you even imagine such a thing? A parent burying their own child.”

Batman could. He had no need to even imagine it because he lived it.

“Some very close friends of mine have been weighed down by the shadows of death and I require help in providing them the closure they need.”

“Are the Fentons the targets, then?”

Masters paused. Then let out a breathy laugh over the phone. “Oh, if only it were that simple.”

“So a different target.”

“Everything you need to know is in the flash drive I’ve enclosed in that envelope Whether you take up the case is entirely up to you—though I do hope you take it. Regardless, if he is not returned soon then I assure you that a disaster unlike any you have seen before will arrive.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. “Is that a threat, Masters?”

“No,” He laughed. “That was no threat. That was promise.”

The phone line disconnected just as Oracle exclaimed that she finally found Masters boarding his flight back to Amity Pak.

#danny phantom #batman #danny phantom x batman crossover #dp fic #phantom children.txt

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lordeasriel · 3 years

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a memory: a man with a mission

Chapter excerpt from my WIP sci-fi novel, The Timekiller. If you check it out, I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback. The novel is divided into normal chapters, that follow the present timeline and its plot, and the memory chapters which are flashback chapters of different moments, like memories, telling key events from the past (and future).

December 23, 1946.

Duke’s powers manifested in a way he couldn’t quite understand. He was a man hailing from the far gone future, born amongst robots and artificial intelligences, raised in a world where the AI had rebelled against the humans and their oppression. He was a war child, for all intents and purposes, yet he never quite felt like a soldier. There was a scholarly aspect to him that made him stand out amongst his peers in the resistance and what granted him the alias The Duke, which was often shortened to just Duke; his name had only been known by his fiancé and a few friends, close friends.

He walked into a pub, in London, in an environment that was the most foreign thing he had ever seen, despite the fact he had been to London in his own time. He was shocked to realise his attempt to time travel that far in the past had worked, but he quickly gathered his wits, and stole clothes so he would fit in, and suddenly he blended wonderfully into the post-second war background world, with matte colours and broken buildings, yet with a spirit of renewal only known to those who have witnessed mayhem - and survived.

Doing justice to his scholarly spirit, Duke had done his research in the time he wanted to visit, and thus he knew vaguely how to communicate, and what to say and how to say it. How to dress, what to order for food and drinks, and how the culture worked. It was hard work, but he managed just fine, asking for a pint at the bar, while glancing around the place.

There weren’t many people there, but there were only a few tables vacant, despite the fact it was nearly christmas. Cold weather mostly sent the people in, couples, elderly men, veterans and so on; it was a workers’ pub, mostly, so not many posh people were to be seen. He kept a quiet, low profile, watching around, looking aimlessly. He had to wait until the far night to do what he had come here to do, so spending his time amongst folk was a good idea. He realised these people had good food and drinks and peace.

“Poor lass.” The barmaid told him, a tough looking woman with red hair, cleaning up the glasses in front of him. He raised his eyebrows, inquisitively. She nodded in a specific direction. “She’s been sitting there all day, sipping her lukewarm pint. That has to be the tenth moron who has been to nag her.”

Duke hummed, slightly uninterested, but the woman didn’t mind his lack of interest.

“Ah, she keeps on saying she’s waiting for someone, but I think her lad might have stood her up, oh yes.” Duke nodded, just to appease her sense of communication, drinking his beer quietly. “Do you know her?”

He lowered his glass, and turned to see in the direction the barmaid had pointed out. In the corner of the bar, a few meters away from him, there was a woman occupying a single table, holding a glass mug of beer with a dishonest disinterest. She was dressed simply, with a plain skirt and white blouse, her coat on the chair she was sitting, her hair done modestly, keep in those hair nets Duke thought were so funny.

She raised her eyes to him, and her bland expression disappeared, replaced by the smallest hint of a smile. She would have been in her thirties, maybe late twenties, or so he guessed, strong eyebrows and light-coloured eyes that glittered under the soft, warm light of the pub. Something about her was disconcerting, he felt as if the entire room was staring at her, as if she was the sole focus of a picture and the only thing worth looking at. She was pretty, but it wasn’t that that made her such a magnet of attention, it was something else. It scared him, astonished him. He locked eyes with the woman, and he blushed for no reason he could explain.

“Never seen her.” He said, truthfully. He turned away because the woman’s gaze was making him uncomfortable. Somehow he felt she knew what he was doing in that time period, but the mere idea sounded insane to him. How could she know?

“She’s been looking at you an awful lot, though.” The barmaid smiled at him, a bit wicked. “Hope you aren’t the married type.”

Zohariel watched him from her chair, intensely, her fingers fidgeting on her lap as she was focusing on expanding her presence so he would be drawn to her. Usually she did the opposite, quieting down her spirit so people’s lives wouldn’t get caught in the strength of her being, but this time she wanted him to notice her. She needed him to, otherwise he would commit the worst mistake of his life.

He looked, at last, confused and intrigued. No doubt he had a dozen questions, and no doubt she could have answered them patiently and carefully and gently, but he had a determination in his eyes that made her wary. One tiny wrong move, and the timeline would’ve gone to hell and Zohariel would be in an even bigger mess. She was intent on avoiding that. Unlike him, she knew who he was and his entire fate, but she never shared that with him, not until a long time in the future.

He resisted her presence, as much as he could. She had expected that. He was strong-willed and his abilities had a similar root to hers, no doubt her own fault. He sideeyed her from his place, wary; while her presence was strong thanks to her different frequency, she couldn’t control how people reacted to it. Some were attracted to her, some were terrified, some hated her on principle; it was a roussian roulette of psychology and emotion. Zee was beginning to feel hopeless when he finally moved towards her table, two mugs of cold beer in hand and he stood in front of her, his jacket too big for him, a clear sign those clothes didn’t belong to him.

“Do you mind?” He asked, quietly, almost shyly. It was rather unbecoming of him: she has expected him to be more forceful.

“Not at all.” She gestured with her chin to the chair across her.

Everyone at the pub watched as that strange fellow, for no apparent reason, sat down with that even stranger woman, whose attention had been craved by many, all whom she denied politely, so gently it was nearly cruel.

He slid the mug at her, pacifyingly. She let go of her empty one and closed her grip on the new one, a hint of a smirk on her lips.

“Rumour has it you have been dumping men left and right, tonight.” He said, taking a sip from his mug, his eyes locked onto hers. There was faint music playing in the background, an old tune, filled with white noise. The conversation resumed as Zee toned down her presence as much as she could.

“I enjoy the loneliness.” The corners of her mouth twitched up; he observed her carefully. She knew he was trying to figure her out; people from his time spot were terribly suspicious of anything odd.

“Yet, I’ve been told you can’t take your eyes off me.”

“You’re an odd one.” She said, jokingly, but there was enough truth in it to satisfy him. It didn’t, however.

“So are you.” He crossed his arms over the table, and she leaned in to whisper back at him.

“And together, the two of us make quite a pair in this trivial place.” She tilted her head. He hummed, the closest thing to a laughter he could give her. She leaned back on her chair, her drink in hand. “You look like a man on a mission, if you don’t mind me saying it.”

He hummed again, and his eyes lost focus and he was invaded by a sadness she was well familiar with. He wouldn’t know, of course; there was so much he didn’t know.

“You have no idea, miss.”

“Oh, I might.” She blinked slowly, but he barely reacted. He didn’t believe her, and she could scarcely blame him. Most time travelers struggled in their first months, even years; it was not the sort of thing one could easily adjust to. But Zee didn’t have time to do things subtly; Duke was about to make a very common mistake between time travelers who just discovered their powers: he thought he could change history. “Tell me, what brings you here?”

“Just passing by.”

“How vague! You sound as if you don’t want to talk, yet you’re the one who approached me.” Her amused tone sparked something in him, but by his attitude, it was probably something bad.

He looked at her, puzzled, baffled. She knew how this conversation would follow, it always happened the same way, the few times she had done it before, when she was still with the League. I don’t know why I did it, he would say, his senses betraying him, his mind being engulfed by the everlasting presence of her high frequency.

Being from another universe, Zohariel’s atoms vibrated in a frequency suited for her own universe, and her frequency was so high that in the universe she lived in, she disturbed the natural order of things. Some resisted it for longer, like Duke, but it was pointless; in the end, she could change their lives dramatically by simply existing in the same vicinity for long enough.

“I don’t know why I did it.” He said, looking around, carefully. “You were looking at me.”

“Was I?”

“Yes. A lot. Why?”

“I don’t know, I do a lot of things for no good reason.” She finished her glass and put it down with a soft noise. Her eyebrows had a crease between them, more about doubt than confusion. “You may not want to hear it, but I have some advice for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes. That which is consuming you right now, it is the sort of ailment that afflicts every one of us. You don’t believe I understand, I know, but I do." She sighed when he shook his head. "Grief is overwhelming. It feeds off our energy, our hopes, our fears. But it will pass, eventually, or at least fade to something bearable. Until then, you must persevere."

"How do you know I'm grieving?" There was a legitimate curiosity in his question.

"It's in your eyes." It was true, anyone who looked at him would have seen the pain he was in, but she knew more than just that. She knew everything and more. My responsibility, she often repeated to herself, my fault. Everything he was and would be and do was on her head and she wanted to make sure he didn't do anything stupid. "All over your face. You could use a shave, no offense. I like the beard, but these folks… They're on a different time."

"More free advice? Who would have thought?" He mocked, but there was very little malice in his attitude. He thought of her as odd, quirky. A weird woman in a weird time spot.

"What can I say, I appreciate being helpful and advice from me is a common item to spread around." She raised her eyebrows, amused. "I hope you will heed my words."

"I don't believe you told me your name."

She smiled, sweet and mischievous.

"While my advice is free of charge, my name is a luxury item, in this silly metaphor." She tapped at his hand, gently, and he pulled away as if she had given him a shock. He checked his watch and she observed, quietly, hopeless, intrigued. He brushed his thighs before he stood up, and Zohariel thought he looked exhausted.

He must be, she thought, he probably has no idea how to properly time travel.

The first mistake of a rookie was to go back or forth in time without mastering their powers, which could also be translated to, without knowing how to go back to their time spot. They'd get stuck, and create anachronisms which would then trigger the League. If they did little damage and were untrained and not dangerous, the League would do nothing more than fix the issues, and give them a reprimand and invite them in - very few people refused an invitation like that. However, as Zohariel knew because she had used the League's rating system, Duke was to be considered a red alert threat; he was an anachronist who would stop at nearly nothing to achieve his goal and neither would the League. Worst fate was to have his memories deleted and have him do mild paperwork, while keeping him on his own time spot. It was cruel, in Zee's opinion; worse even than just erasing his existence entirely.

"I appreciate your kindness, but you don't really understand." He nodded before walking out of the pub. Zee watched, almost as if that was a film.

She knew where he was going and she knew she had to stop him before the League did.

#my*writing #writers on tumblr #scifi #writeblr #writblr

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vitalmindandbody · 7 years

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Blockbusters assemble: can the mega movie endure the digital age?

From Star Wars sequels to superhero dealerships, blockbusters still govern the film industry. But with Amazon and Netflix tearing up the liberate planneds, are they on iffy floor?

Is the blockbuster in hardship? On the surface, to propose such a thing might seem as foolish as siding out the incorrect envelope at the biggest happen of the film docket because you were busy tweeting pictures of Emma Stone. This is the blockbuster were talking about. Its Luke Skywalker, Jurassic World, Disney, The Avengers, Batman, Superman, Spider-Man, Pixar. Its the Rock perforating his fist through a build. Its the effects-driven culture juggernaut that powers the entire film industry. Does it look as if its in tribulation?

A glance at the balance sheet for the year to appointment would cement the view that the blockbuster is in insulting health. Total grosses are higher at this stage than any of the past five years. Logan, the Lego Batman Movie and Kong: Skull Island have already been gathered in big audiences globally. And then theres Beauty and the Beast, a true-life cultural phenomenon, currently hastening its course up the all-time rankings. All this and theres still a brand-new Star Wars instalment, another Spider-Man reboot, Wonder Woman, Justice League, Alien: Agreement, Blade Runner 2049, plus sequels of (* deep breather *) Guardians of the Galaxy, Cars, World War Z, Kingsman, Transformers, Fast and the Furious, Planet of the Apes, Despicable Me, Thor and Pirates of the Caribbean still to come. Hardly the signs of a crisis, it would be fair to say.

Dig a little deeper though and the foundations that blockbusters are built on start to look shaky. Last-place month, Variety wrote a legend that covered a picture of an manufacture scared to death by its own future, as buyer preferences adapt with changes in engineering. Increased pressure from Netflix and Amazon, those digital-disruption barbarians, has caused the large-scale studios to consider changing the road they liberate movies. The theatrical opening, the 90 -day cushion between a films debut in cinema and its liberate on DVD or streaming, is set to be reduced to as little as 3 weeks in an attempt to bolster diminishing dwelling entertainment auctions. Its a move that the industry sees as necessary, as younger witness develop more adaptable, portable deeming techniques, and surely many smaller yields have begun to liberate their movies on-demand on the same day as in cinemas it was one of the reasons that Shia LaBeoufs Man Down grossed a much-mocked 7 in cinema.

Ana De Armas and Ryan Gosling in Blade Runner 2049. Photograph: Allstar/ WARNER BROS.

At the same time, investors from China long thought to be Hollywoods saviour have suddenly chilled their interest, cancelling major studio treats as the Chinese box office sustains growing tenderness( with domestic ticket sales exclusively increasing 2.4% in 2016 against a 49% rise its first year before)and the governments crackdown on overseas investment starts to bite. Add to that a couple of high-profile recent duds Scarlett Johanssons Ghost in the Shell, Matt Damons The Great Wall, the unintentionally creepy Chris Pratt/ Jennifer Lawerence sci-fi Passengers, Jake Gyllenhaals Alien knock-off Life and you have an manufacture thats not as expanding as the blockbuster bluster might suggest.

Hollywoods response to this instability has been to double down, places great importance on blockbusters to the exclusion of just about everything else. In the past few decades the summer blockbuster season has mission-crept its way well into spring, a phenomenon that has been worded cultural global warming; this year, Logan was released a merely three days after the Oscars objective. The developing impression is of a full calendar year of blockbusters, with a small drop-off for Oscars season in January and February and even in that period this year we are continuing envisioned the liberates of The Lego Batman Movie, The Great Wall, John Wick 2 and the regrettable Monster Trucks.

Meanwhile, the mid-budget cinema that hardy perennial that used to help prop up the industry by expensing relatively little and often deserving mass( recollect Sophies Choice or LA Confidential) has significantly been abandoned by the major studios, its full potential profit margins seen as insufficiently high when the cost of things such as commerce is factored in. Which isnt to say that mid-budget movies dont subsist, its merely that theyre being made by smaller, independent studios understand Arrival and Get Out for recent successful precedents or most commonly as TV sequence.( Theres that Netflix, interrupting situations again .)

In essence, what this all means for the industry is the fact that it blockbuster or bust. Studios have looked at the altering scenery and decided to react by replenishing it with superheroes, act stellars and CGI beasts, realise more blockbusters than they used to, but fewer films in total. The old-time tentpole formula, where a few large-scale movies would shelter the mid-range and low-budget material, has largely been abandoned. The blockbusters are about reducing the cinemas these studios grow down to a minimum, read Steven Gaydos, vice-president and executive editor at Variety. They represent nothing but large-hearted gambles. You have to keep building a bigger and more efficient spaceship.

Its a high-risk strategy and one that, in accordance with the arrangements of Disney and their Marvel, Star Wars and Pixar dealerships, has brought big-hearted wages. But this sudden ratcheting up of the stakes means that the cost of outage has become far more pronounced. Last-place time Viacom was forced to take a $ 115 m( 92 m) writedown on Monster Trucks, while Sony took a writedown of practically$ 1bn on their entire film division after a faltering couple of years.

Hugh Jackman in Logan. Photo: Allstar/ 20 TH CENTURY FOX

While those losses might be explained away as research results of bad bets on bad cinemas Monster Trucks was infamously based on an idea by an managers five-year-old son they hint at the apocalypse that could ensue if a broader, industry-wide trouble were to present itself. Namely, what if the public loses its appetite for the blockbuster?

Its not entirely without precedent: in the late 1950 s, as television threatened to plagiarized a march on cinema, studios responded by starting large-hearted. Spectacle was seen as the key: westerns, musicals and sword-and-sandal epics predominated. But audiences soon ripened tired of these hackneyed genres and ticket marketings continued to diminish. That occasion the industry existed, thanks first to the insertion of vitality provided for under the jumpy, arty New Hollywood films, then later with the early blockbusters such as Jaws and Star Wars.

Could such a mass tuning-out happen again? Certainly, theres an creepy echo in accordance with the rules that Hollywood has reacted to changing experiences with length and spectacle, but also in their narrow focus. Once an sexual thriller such as Fatal Attraction or a musical drama such as Footloose might have reasonably been considered a blockbuster. Nowadays the blockbuster almost exclusively resides in the action, fantasy, minors film or superhero genres.

The superhero film including with regard to looms big over the industry, as every studio tries to repeat the formula to be prepared by Marvel. Ever-more niche caped campaigners are being given their own cinemas Batgirl, Aquaman, the Gotham City Sirens in an attempt to exhume a new Deadpool. Spider-Man and Batman have once again been rebooted by seeking to freshen up the respective dealerships. And, of course, everyone wants their own cinematic cosmo a vast galaxy of characters that together can generate a seemingly infinite number of spin-offs, sequels and prequels. At this very time, the creators of Call of Duty are actively seeking to turn their terrifying shoot-em-ups into a series of interlocking cinemas, while James Cameron a director whose preferred method of cracking a nut is with a sledgehammer, you suppose is creating a cosmo around his smash-hit Avatar, rife with five sequels, graphic novels, actual romances and, most bewilderingly, a Cirque du Soleil show.

These shared universes actively court the sort of audiences who will turn up to every movie, buy the action anatomies, don the cosplay outfits and gobble the branded breakfast cereal in other words, teenage boys. The dominant ideology is fanboy culture, suggests Gaydos. It is adolescent. It is conflict resolution by violence. It is wish-fulfillment, spectacle and recreation tone and feeling, if we are seeking to get Shakespearean.

Truly, the geeks have inherited the earth. But what about the rest of us? How many have the time, intensity or inclination to sit through, enunciate, all the cinemas in the forthcoming Universal Monsters shared universe, which begins this year with a reboot of The Mummy and has resurgences of Wolf Man, Van Helsing and the Invisible Guy in pre-production? Greenlighting this line of cinemas without be seen whether anyone is going to bother to watch even the first of them looks like a risky struggle, and the recent situation of the Divergent YA cinema dealership, whose latest cinema is being exhausted as a TV movie due to lack of interest, offers up a cautionary narration that studios should perhaps be paying attention to.

Cars 3. Photo: Allstar/ WALT DISNEY PICTURES

But whats striking about all these blockbusters is how youth-skewed they are, at a time when a one-third of cinemagoers in the US are over the age of 50. Older audiences can enjoy The Avengers as much as everybody else, of course, but sloping your sell primarily towards young people is a risky programme. Young beings tend to be the most fickle audience, one whose attention is split in thousands and thousands of plazas, pronounces Gaydos. Theyre too the gathering least able to splash out on cinema tickets. And of course theyre an audience who are becoming increasingly accustomed to watching material on their telephones, laptops and smart TVs.

In other words, theyre the ones likely to force through the seismic change the industry is currently fretting over. If they lose interest in the modern blockbuster in accordance with the rules that younger audiences turned away from the westerns, musicals and historic epics in the 1960 s, the studios will have to find something lustrou and brand-new to brandish in their faces and this time they wont have something akin to the New Hollywood to courtroom them with, as that sort of transgressive, jumpy, groundbreaking price is increasingly growing up on the small screen.

Perhaps the best event the studios can do in the face of this new world is to demonstrate some imagery in how they develop and present their blockbusters and there are signs that this is already happening. Producer Stephen Woolley, who has worked on movies such as The Crying Game and the forthcoming adaptation of On Chesil Beach, quotes Deadpool as a cinema that has subtly managed to change the perception of the superhero movie. Its taking a much more sophisticated consider of that world-wide and humiliating it, while at the same strengthening it. It was a ingenious have-your-cake-and-eat-it from the ones who caused it.

Meanwhile, Disneys successful live-action reimaginings of their inspired undertakings most notably Beauty and the Beast and The Jungle Book suggests that its possible to play the sequels and remakes recreation without it detecting like a retread over old-time dirt. Most remarkably of all, the musical think this is making a comeback with the success of La La Land, that rare mid-budget movie to have crossed over into blockbuster status, grossing more than $400 m at a fund of $37 m.

Woolley is aware of the risks twirling around the blockbuster, but feels that mass extinguishing is still some method away, if it ever arises. The peril you have is that gatherings are fickle, and we are able to abruptly turn off, he alleges. Something happens for them to say: Actually, we dont like those movies any more. And theres always this inkling that is likely to happen. But every time it seems to happen on the blockbuster figurehead, another movie comes out to prove you wrong.

Ultimately, though, what might keep the blockbuster safe for the time being is not the films themselves but all the stuff around them. The thought that the studios are seeing is something akin to a hypermovie or a supermovie, alleges Gaydos. Its a whole other thing. Its a toy-delivery arrangement. A Cars movie will gross $500 m or $600 m but the Cars products will sell$ 4bn. Ultimately the movie is designed to be a giant sell implement for merchandise and theme park that generate billions and billions.

As Hollywood agonises over its own future, it might be that the best lane for the blockbuster to survive is to subsume itself into big, more secure revenue streams: dolls, competitions, merchandise, live attractions. So if you want to keep the blockbuster around for a little while longer, you should get your Superman costume on and spout yourself a container of that branded cereal.