Kon!!!!!! 💘

I’ve been a fan of wolf 359 for YEARS and you have the AUDACITY to tell me that they put out Eiffels version of the lords prayer and NO ONE TOLD ME?!!!?!

The link

Image description: it's a drawing of Batman. His head is framed by a yellow moon. He's pulling his cape up as he's kneeling on top of a stone structure. The stone structure is mostly hidden by his cape with only the letters M and A showing, along with a star of David symbol on the top corner. In the background there's mist and some trees. End of description.

Bat drawing cause Halloween 🎃

of course he’s the kid you wanted, dick thinks, he says, he yells because he is eighteen and so full of hope for life that he forgot about the chains he put on himself that drag him back to bruce’s stupid fucking cave no matter how hard he tries to break free of them. and he’s tried to run away, he’s tried and tried and tried, from the very first fight he had with bruce when he was a burnt-out cluster of stars in the shape of a nine year old boy to two weeks ago, when he realized that there are papers that turn jason peter todd into jason peter todd-wayne. jason peter todd-wayne likes going to school and helps alfred cook and actually enjoys doing weapons inventory and reads books curled up in the big armchair next to the mahogeny desk in bruce’s chamber of an office. dick did backflips on the chair for all of ten minutes before bruce’s quiet scribbling and the walls full of books felt like they were closing in on him, and he had to tumble down the steps of the batcave and throw his body around the parallel bars just to keep his soul from ballooning out of his body with the need to move. jason made bruce smile the day his parents died in the alley his parents died in. jason is quiet enough to put bruce at ease but loud enough to fill the space and bruce loves him like a son. maybe bruce loved dick, but dick made him rub his forehead in exasperation and look over dick’s prescriptions every couple of months and slump with exhaustion after they spent a day together. dick made bruce tired, but jason made him smile, so dick bent his neck in submission and let the kid wear robin on his chest with pride. 

of course he’s the kid you wanted, jason spits out bitterly, the winds whipping past him and bruce on a rooftop like riptides carrying people to their deaths. he can pinpoint the minute his rage turned to hopelessness, because this new robin ran to the edge of a cliff and jumped off without a hint of fear, flying higher and higher until he reached the moon, until he reached the stars, until he reached the outstretched hands dick motherfucking grayson held out for him. dick held his hands out for jason too, but jason’s wings melted with the heat of dick’s stupid stupid stupid perfectness, and no matter what he did, icarus always fell. jason wasn’t an idealistic little annie with stars in his eyes; he braced himself for the burn the minute bruce took him into wayne manor, because rich white men always want things and jason spent months waiting to find out what bruce wayne wanted. the answer was companionship, the answer was someone to protect and care for, the answer was a child to love as his own, which was so hopelessly pure that jason’s skin felt bleached by it. tim’s skin didn’t have to be bleached by it. tim had skin as white as porcelain and eyes like shattered diamonds and an aristocratic little accent that jason could practically see jewels and precious metals dripping off of, his wealth and privilege locking jason in place like the midas touch. jason was a kid bruce picked up off the streets, and even though he’d spent his life knowing that he was smart and strong and clever enough to earn robin, to survive the league, to be red hood, there would always be someone better, someone worth more, someone who fit the robin mold like they were melted and poured into it. so jason snarled and screamed and broke down as loud as he could, because he thought he meant the world to bruce, thought he was his son, but tim was a much better son than jason could ever be, and jason didn’t just outgrow those pixie boots, his feet grew so big they tore them to pieces, and he’d never be able to wear them again.

of course he’s the kid you wanted, tim says to himself, on the precipice of turning his entire body into an ice-cold sculpture near unbreakable with the fire of emotion and letting the tears that had bubbled up into his throat burst out with all the fury of a supernova. tim had chip, chip, chipped away at himself until he’d become the perfect partner, the perfect robin, because that’s all he ever wanted to do. he wanted to be useful, he wanted to work for something with his own two hands and have earned his victory, he wanted someone to tell him they were proud of the work he had done. but tim had fucked it up, he’d fucked it all up, because he hadn’t been able to accept nearly everyone he loved being ripped from his greedy fingers, and all of the satisfaction he got from crowing about how he was right and how bruce was alive and they brought him back because of him turned to acid in his mouth because of the things he’d done to get there. damian was broken too, damian was shattered into so many little pieces that the shards pricked dick all over and made him bleed until damian was seeped into his skin so deep that dick didn’t have any other choice but to love him. tim was just fractured. he had bold lines running across his skin, a map of his strengths and things he overcame and survived turning into a map of his failure, and splinters running across his soul. a streak for trying to clone conner, a streak for mutilating the robin costume with his own grief, a streak for letting ra’s come as close as he did to compromising tim, a streak for not being able to convince cass to stay, a streak for getting kicked out the window and letting himself fall, letting dick believe he’d known he was there and quietly wishing that dick hadn’t gotten to him in time. damian, for all his faults, had only ever tried to claw his way up with bloodstained hands to morality and kindness and good, somehow ignoring the siren call that was the league at his back. so, with a silent and motionless tantrum as violent as someone locked inside arkham, tim screamed at the unfairness of it all, at the audacity of it all, but let himself become accustomed to the r sitting on damian’s chest.

Keep reading

Robert Pattinson in interviews: Bruce Wayne is a slimy worm man. A stinky dirty bat. A mess. Emo. Greasy and gross. Seconds away from going feral and biting someone’s ear off.

Me, a Bruce Wayne fan: Yes, yes, this man gets it

“Hobie did more for Miles after knowing him for ten minutes than Gwen did” my brother in christ one of these characters was presented as having very little fondness, one might even say some derision, for spider society while for the other it was their entire support system they are not the same

Selina & Talia

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The first time Talia meets Bruce’s new lover, they stab each other.

Talia tries to ignore the fact that she’s a little impressed. It had been her understanding that the woman had no formal training and Talia hadn’t really expected her to get a hit in, let alone a stab wound. “You should leave my beloved alone. This will not end well for you otherwise.” she informs the woman.

The woman looks surprised. It makes Talia pleased until she speaks. “We literally just broke up.” she says and it’s Talia’s turn to look shocked now.

“Oh.” Talia wants to shift her weight but there’s still a dagger in her side. She supposes she can’t exactly complain since there’s a sword in the woman’s. “I apologise. It seems my intel is out of date.”

The woman, Selina she supposes now, looks at Talia like she’s never seen another person before. “You think?”

A far away corner of Talia’s mind notes that the splatter of blood on Selina’s face and the arch of her eyebrow make her look the exact kind of pretty Talia likes best.

She wishes she could shake herself. This encounter isn’t going how Talia had planned it. “I suppose we should both seek medical attention now.” she says, half to change the subject and half because it’s a valid point.

“I know a place.” Selina gets up, impressively steady considering how she has to keep one hand fixed on the sword in her to stop it moving around too much. Ones she’s on her feet she looks at Talia like she’s assessing her. Talia glares right back at her, back straight and eyes narrowed. Selina must like what she sees because she cocks the corner of her mouth into something a little like a smirk. “And afterwards you could come back to mine.”  she says slyly, “Just to rest, of course.”

Talia hadn’t quite expected that. She can’t say that she’s unhappy about it though. “Of course.” she echoes, “Not to dissuade you, but it is my understanding that you just broke up with someone?”

“Psh,” Selina waves the hand that isn’t holding Talia’s sword steady inside of her, “I’m not one to dwell on the past.”

Talia allows herself a smile. “Well then, how could I object?”

Selina & Talia

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Selina quite likes this thing she’s had going on with Talia, it’s far better than whatever was happening with Bruce at least.

‘Stop stealing things’, ‘Move in with me’, ‘Don’t team up against me with the Sirens’ nag, nag, nag. That’s all it had been with Bruce. Talia actually understands the things Selina does and she couldn’t give less of a shit about them. Well, she sort of does. Selina imagines that if Talia saw her pull something as boring as your standard bank robbery she’d break up with her. That’s understandable though, Selina would break up with someone who would pull a job that unfashionable.

“Why do you keep leaving?” Selina asks, stretching as she looks over to Talia packing her bag. It’s an honest question.

“Some of us have jobs.” Talia replies, no heat behind it. She leans over and kisses Selina before shouldering the bag. She walks to the door but hesitates before turning the handle.

Selina freezes from where she was still stretching. Talia never hesitates.

“What if I work was not the reason I was leaving?”

“Then I’d be ashamed of myself for not having you caught you in a lie sooner.” Selina replies, keeping her tone casual despite the fact that this is probably the most serious conversation they’ve had to date. “I don’t suppose you’re cheating on me? Because I thought you had better taste than to do something so class-less.”

“I would never.” she declares. The severity of the statement doesn’t match the conversation’s previous tone and Selina realises quite suddenly that they aren’t trying to be light-hearted about this any more. “I’m going to bring someone next time we see each other.”

“Oh?”

Talia opens the door and for a moment Selina thinks she isn’t getting a reply. Then Talia turns back, looking at Selina with an expression that could mean absolutely anything. “I hope that the two of you will mean something to each other.” she says, before walking out and closing the door softly behind her.

Selina doesn’t move for a while after that, thinking about what might be coming. She hopes it won’t change things too much, her and Talia really do have something special.

~

A couple of weeks later Selina gets back to her apartment to find Talia inspecting the blueprint she had set out on the table and a boy, perhaps eight years old, playing quietly with a couple of Selina’s cats.

Talia looks up from the blueprints. She doesn’t smile like she usually does when Selina enters a room. “This is my son. Damian.” she declares.

The boy looks up and cocks his head to one side. A part of Selina’s brain that she isn’t paying much attention to right now decides that how similar the boy looks to Bruce probably isn’t a coincidence.

In an instant Selina’s hopes that her and Talia’s relationship could continue unchanged are dashed. But as she looks at the boy being oh so careful with her kittens, she thinks she might not mind such a change after all.

“So, how long have you been on Earth?” asks M’gann and Kaldur doesn’t have time to think of a response before she carries on, “I only got here a couple of weeks ago but my Uncle’s been talking about how cool this planet is for ages and I’ve always wanted to come here.”

“I-” Kaldur starts, “Uh-”

“Ooh! Have you tried ice cream? I’ve heard it’s the best.”

“I’m from Earth.” Kaldur says before M’gann can bond with him any more over their non-existent shared status as extraterrestrials. Her eyes widen and she takes a step back.

“Oh my God I’m so sorry! I didn’t know humans could have gills!”

“No they- I’m not-” M’gann blinks at him in curiosity and Kaldur feels off guard in a way that’s foreign to him. “I’m not human. I’m Atlantean.”

M’gann’s curiosity turns to worry.

“Sorry! Sorry I didn’t mean to assume anything” she stutters, “everything’s just so new here and, well, I’m still learning I guess.” She smiles nervously and Kaldur can’t help but smile back.

“Well, I haven’t been living on the surface for very long either, so if you want we could learn things together?”

M’gann looks relieved and Kaldur is certain that he’s just made a new friend.

also not to derail anything but when i saw the cover and the fact that the other guy has pink hair i got reminded of the pink kryptonite that made superman gay and i can't stop thinking about it

living in gotham is like. you are going to be consumed. you are going to see your worst fears in horrific visions. these visions will be provided by someone who doesn’t even know your name. someone is going to shoot you. you are going to laugh and you will not want to. you are going to kill someone. whether or not your house gets blown up will be decided by a coin flip. someone put acid in the water. you are going to be in a hostage situation. a fucking furry is going to be the only reason you survive any of this