Sensing A Little Bit Of A Pattern With You

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

When is a person not a person?

It’s a question that plagues Zatanna. Or, maybe not even that. When does a person become a different person? When does the helmet on your head twist and twist you into someone new and old and different who doesn’t have a daughter at all.

Zatanna wonders if the word orphan applies to her. She wonders if she’ll ever figure it out.

“I don’t know.” Robin says when she asks, because during one of their chats he let slip that he really is an orphan. Two whole parents buried in their graves, no waking up. The whole shebang.

“I want to know.” She answers. It feels like a big question, the kind you need someone to answer before you can move on and do anything with your life. “I want things to start making sense.”

The word orphan makes sense. She even looked it up in a dictionary, all very clear cut.

“Whatever the answer is, you have family.” He smiles and Zatanna thinks about how sweet he is.

“Wally’s a lucky guy.” she says, half because she wants the conversation to turn a little less serious, half because it’s the truth. Robin turns a bit red and Zatanna absent mindedly  starts thinking about what colour bridesmaid dress she would like.

“Shut up.” he groans, before turning serious again. “I don’t know what the right thing to say is, Z, but you’ve got to know that you’re one of us.”

Zatanna’s heart breaks a little even as she smiles. She does love the team, really she does. They’re bright and fast and beautiful and kind. They’re strong and clever and righteous and she does love them. It’s just that before she didn’t only belong with them. She had two places. She had a room in the mountain and a place by her father’s side.

It had made her feel whole, the duality of it all.

Maybe that’s why she packs a bag the next morning and conjures up a means of escape.

Every day with the team her soul shatters again. Every time she sees her father’s body, reduced to a vessel for a being that isn’t even kind, her heart breaks in two. Staying so close to reminders of all the things she’s lost isn’t doing her any good so she decides to leave.

Where’s the line between running away and escaping? she thinks, and finally there’s a question she doesn’t want the answer to.

bruce wayne journaling after he realized his whole “I am vengeance” routine inspired the riddler and similar minded criminals

I don’t even blame Luther for the apocalypse but I do have two hands so I can’t deny that the option is there

Gertrude Robinson is decisive.

She makes her choices and she backs them up with every action she takes. She does not hesitate. She does not question herself. She does not regret.

This was good for a while. It made her move forward faster than anyone else she’d ever met and Gertrude likes being fast. Overtaking peers who’d figured out far later than her that they simply were not in the same league brought her a special kind of joy. Then there was that look her teachers and professors and so-called superiors would give her when they realised that she was destined to surpass them. That was an even better kind of joy. The sort she could sink her teeth into and let fill her belly like a warm meal.

Then Gertrude was twenty five and a man she thought was called James Wright asked her if she would like to be head archivist and she said yes.

Then things started to try and kill her. Then she started to try and kill those things back. And, hey, what do you know? It turns out that killing monsters is just another thing Gertrude Robinson excels at.

It’s not like she had another option.

Gertrude Robinson is decisive and unwavering and has never doubted herself in her life. So when she looks back on the choice she made at twenty five all she sees is the inevitability of it. The way the path of her life had no side roads, there was always only one route she could ever take.

You’re wrong, the eye tells her, your choices are yours, yours, yours and you could have done all the other things you were planning to do with your life. You’re the one who blinded yourself to the other paths you could have taken and I would never presume to hide such knowledge from my beloved archivist.

Gertrude Robinson never regrets her choices. Not even when she should.

“Sooo is that a yes??”

Never witnessed a more aro ace man than Bruce Wayne in the Batman movie in my life

Mha au where bakugou is replaced by catra and kirishima is replaced by adora

I just finished writing a 20k fic and anyone who says drugs are a better high than this is a liar and a fool

my final piece for @gothamcityunmasked !! thank you for having me on as a mod and contributor!