Cosimo Galluzzi
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Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
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taylor price
One Nice Bug Per Day
tannertan36
🪼
cherry valley forever
YOU ARE THE REASON
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Keni
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Xuebing Du
blake kathryn
if i look back, i am lost
pixel skylines
Mike Driver
ojovivo
KIROKAZE
seen from United Kingdom
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@worldsokayestdad
𝘙𝘖𝘖𝘛 : // 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗟𝗗𝗦𝗢𝗞𝗔𝗬𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗗𝗔𝗗 ﹥ 𝗞𝗡𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦𝗘𝗡𝗗 𝗦𝗘𝗤𝗨𝗘𝗡𝗖𝗘 ﹥ 𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗜𝗩𝗔𝗧𝗘𝗗 . ﹥ a mutuals only writing blog dedicated to unmasking 𝗕𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗘 𝗪𝗔𝗬𝗡𝗘 / 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗧𝗠𝗔𝗡 ; the perils of a grave promise, his war on crime , his humanity , his trauma, and his legacy. [ ENTER ]
you guys wanna hear a very funny modern bat mythos concept is how some artists / writers are very devoted to making broose bald
She'd planned to conjure rope. Something hempen and strong, capable of binding these men to one another and the ground they knelt upon until released by just hands, hopefully among the rising siren song.
The incantation goes unfinished. Threads of bright green flame that sparked into a weave simply dissipated on the night air as The Bat - her ally - offered a more practical solution. There is no hiding the smile on her face as she stands by him, nor is there hiding the smile in her voice as she gently replies, ❝ Of course. ❞
With one final look toward their would-be foes, a nod and a whispered prayer of encouragement on their paths toward rehabilitation, the Witch followed after the Bat's shadow. ☆
Still too low to reach up into the clouds, but not so high up that she couldn't make out the full-bellied laugh of an officer, recently arrived, whose work was all but done for them. How joyous it sounded, even washed and withered by wind and distance. As if he'd no cause nor reason to laugh for so long until just now.
❝ My apologies! I'd not intended to interrupt your hunt, nor step between you and your quarry. I thought it best to approach as soon as possible. Before you'd properly begun your work for the night. ❞
The first words offered above the din. Wrapped around a hand coming to rest over her heart, and a gentle, graceful float from roof's edge, to shadow-side. There is a weight behind her words, as there is a weight behind all of her. Yet her titanic strength was not what kept that weight from humbling her. It was that same heart of hers that she'd cupped and was now offering to him.
Sitting just there in the palm of her hand, wrapped in blood-red sigils and slightly upturned to welcome his own.
❝ I'm Diana. I was sent here by someone who was stolen from this city as a child, and reformed by wicked hands in the name of wicked deeds. She asked me if I might help fight back the encroaching darkness here. I have come to ask you the very same. ❞
It was a night of many broken expectations. So many more of the unexplained but somehow less sinister than the curse that lurked the streets. A presence that seemed more warm and inviting than oppressive and ruinous that he's gotten used to. The violence never changes, after all, it just switches hands. And yet, he senses what she's capable. How she could easily wield it with her hands, like she's met giants and dropped them to their knees. And this city has many of those. But her words make what he suspected clear — there's more and there is less. It has not been lost to him, the brewing outside of his city, of a world that was beginning to get larger and larger and more and more senseless and unreasonable than what he knows in his his streets. GOTHAM has been grumbling ; whether in hunger or in fear, it's been hard to tell. And he feels her shiver still seemingly at the invitation she brings to his doorsteps. The world beyond crawling in. " I'm…THE BATMAN. " He says the word like he's unfamiliar with it. Having only adapted it since the city has started to use it for their own ; taking it back from them the only way he knew how. His brows furrowed and his voice weary. " Who is this child? " He stepped closer, a sense of suspicion curling like a snake around his throat. Snake like in its vice. " When and where? " It unfurls inside of him like a flame that is so eager to devour. " What darkness? " He stops nearly at the edge of the rooftop, looking up at her, demanding in his quest. He's had too many questions unanswered. He's had the earth beneath his feet open up too wide and too big for one man to keep together by the grip of his teeth. And maybe it's harder for him to believe that someone with power is here in his city to help when he's seen how power is used here. " Maybe…" But still, he tries. " Speak more plainly. "
a redraw of one of my favorite covers from batgirl 2000 (#27) because i love cass
☀️-- He didn't know what he had been expecting, but it wasn't... hostility. He had just been helping --
Clark found himself taking a half-floating step backward as the Bat approached. His feet didn't touch back down against the rooftop again; instead he remained hovering just slightly. He flinched visibly at the tone.
He supposed he shouldn't have expected much else, actually, now that he thought about it. He was green. New. Doing what little research he could, he had gone into this all knowing that the masked vigilante had a prickly personality at times. Although he hadn't expected something so blunt and angry.
Noted: other hero's could be territorial about their cities. Nothing to knock them for, but definitely something to consider before hopping in to a problem.
Yet Clark still moved forward. To explain, to try and turn this around somehow.
"Hey, man, I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to step on your toes or the fire department's. I was just in the area - I mean I heard from across the bay and I..." Trying to explain it wasn't going to do any good. He sighed, his posture deflating slightly, running a hand through slicked back hair, "I just figured that with Metropolis and Gotham being so close, it might be beneficial for the heroes to foster a working relationship…?"
Darn it. He had thought that maybe they could get along.
Maybe his streets were just different all the way over there at METROPOLIS. Or maybe it was easier to think that way when you have people shooting at you and have the luxury of bullets just bouncing off. Here, he didn't. THE GOOD and THE BAD all have guns. And his blood is a finite resource. The BIG GUY in RED AND BLUE can fumble around ; pull off a smile and zoom off to the next one. Gotham's criminal element were always a lot more complicated than that. Always one head on top of the other. You cut one off only to walk right into another rabbit hole. Who knows what he might have missed from this one? What bad luck could put a whole building ablaze just like that. All of it lives inside of his head. The warning meant to be final and left at that. But this SUPERMAN is insistent, it seems. More worried about what he thinks than what he might be doing. " Clearly, you're wrong. " A plain answer as he turned around, away from him. Walking again towards the opposite direction. Hoping it would be left at that but even without looking, he can still feel him hovering in the air a few feet behind. " I can do my work on my own. Don't need to fly around to do it either. "
Dreams are wild kids. Why was I filibustering on a live variety show about trans rights? Still would though but so random. Happy Pride!
"Were you raped?"
@bruz3r | law & order svu prompts
Hysterical laughter bubbles up inside Hughie's throat. He wonders what makes it so obvious. What's giving him away? The bruises, the split lip, they could be explained by a mugging. Perhaps it's the way he flinched when Batman moved towards him. Or maybe there's something he's simply unaware of or Batman's just too good of a detective.
"Why?" That bordering-on-insane-laughter forces its way out. "What are you gonna do about it? Beat them up? Send them to police and tell me to press charges? I just... wanna go home. If you wanna help, you could give me a ride."
Maybe he didn't need to confirm it for himself. The signs were there. And he knew it. But maybe hearing him say it was just another incendiary to the rage already welling in his chest.
A weary sigh and he only takes off his cape. He wrapped it around his shoulder while making sure not to touch him or invade his space. An easier feat said than done but he manages. And he doesn't question him further than that. Moving away only to call over THE BATMOBILE and let him into the passenger seat.
He hovers outside for a moment to let him settle.
obligatory bruce loves to tie his partners up and/or getting tied himself while they ride him. also, yes, totally @decthbringer 's fault.
𝘐'𝘔 𝘊𝘖𝘔𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘍𝘖𝘙 𝘠𝘖𝘜! - 𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝘽𝙐𝙇𝙇𝙎𝙀𝙔𝙀
The wind continues to howl between them, but it doesn't drown him out. It never does. Yelena listens, not because she has to, but because she chooses to. There's a difference. Always has been. His words settle over her like something rehearsed, practiced, polished...into something that somehow sounds like law.
Her mouth twitches. It's not quite a smile, nor restraint. "Mm," she hums softly, gaze dragging over him in open assessment now that he's stepped into something resembling shape. "You sound...like a fucking handbook." Her brows perk, boot shifts, subtle adjustment, balance, not retreat. "I have read many of those." She adds, almost conversationally. "They all say the same thing before they try to put collar back on my throat."
There it is. The first flash of teeth beneath the calm. His question lingers, though. It hooks in deeper than she'd like. 'Are you running from something or towards something?' For a fraction of a second, Arkham flickers...sterile, white, laughter that was not laughter, women who forgot where they ended and the madness began...Her jaw tightens.
Then just as rapidly, smooths.
"I do not run," Yelena answers firmly, simply. Truth, or something shaped like it. "I choose direction." Accent as thick as her assurance. Her head tilts slightly, studying him the way one studies a weapon they haven't decided to use...yet.
"And you..." she gestures vaguely toward him, toward the cape, the voice, the performance of it all. "You stand very still for someone who thinks he understands movement."
The warning comes next...his, not hers.
She will eat you alive.
That earns him a quiet laugh. Real this time. Low. Dry.
"Gotham?" she guesses, glancing briefly toward the skyline like it might be listening. "Yes. I have noticed. She is very hungry." Her gaze snaps back to him, sharper. "So are the men funding her worst habits." A step closer, not aggressive, but intentional. Closing distance instead of yielding to it. "You watch," Yelena boldly continues, "You measure. You decide who is worth saving, and who is a lesson." Not accusation. Observation. "I have lived under men who think they are necessary," she affirms with a hint of poison. "They always believe they are the only thing standing between order and collapse...and sometimes, only sometimes, they're right." That's the closest thing to concession that he will get. It doesn't soften what comes next.
"I am not your child," edge returns, clean and precise. "And I am not afraid of this city." Another step back toward the ledge, reclaiming that space as if it belongs to her. "If something here is going to eat me alive, it will have to earn it." A breath, then almost as an afterthought, "And if you are going to threaten me," her brow lifts slightly, something amused flickering there, "at least decide if you are doing it as warning or invitation."
She allows that to hang, just to see what he does with it.
Unfortunately for her, he's seen too many LOST LAMBS to not spot one in a herd of sheep. But he knows better than to grab it with both hands just to watch how easily lambs show their teeth. And he's see how she operates, this city ; he hears it again in how she whispers to them now, howling winds echoing a desperation, a pull for a leap.
Whether that meant good or bad — he couldn't say.
The sky was still dark and the evening still inviting. It was far too early for absolutes.
He averts his gaze then. Little clues falling into place. Pictures being formed of a history of confinement. A rebellion bristling at the seams. If not to him, to the rest of the world, whoever stands in her way.
She's not a bomb ; not yet. Maybe just the nigrocylerine. A half-baked idea with no goal. Just a whim, an impulse, a need — a hunger.
" Choose … " he repeats as if tasting the word. A poignant evidence to the likes ofhim. Everyone makes a choice. This city was built on bad choices only illucidated by time and sheer fucking luck. He pins it for another time. Another question to answer on a diferent day. Maybe once there was more light.
He doesn't argue. There is no defending the rot that lives in his streets. They're like weed. You take one out and another grows in its place. It's a fight ; a war with no end. And a promise he's planned on keeping, time and time again. And he smiles, no teeth but only sharper lens. A laugh hanging at the edge of another passing breeze.
[ ₁ ] The audacity of youth is something.
He avoids a direct answer. This city will answer for him. And anyway, an alarm reaches into his feed and it gives him a location. He doesn't need Alfred to tell him what it is. He walks to stand beside her, looking down and jumps.
Maybe he'll see first hand how she dances should she follow.
I just kind of slept all day and I'm still all levels of tired.
MOST OF THE WORLD had a very specific idea of ' oh this kid's parents died ? we have to offer condolences ! meaningless words that won't do shit ! of course ! ' and it had been ... infuriating when he was a kid. every single time, it made him scoff and snark off something cruel.
it was worse for big bow's death. he never could remember his biological mother's face, and roy harper sr. was a distant memory at best. big bow had been his truest father, had taught him to shoot in the first place and gave him a real home with love.
but oliver -- oliver made three fathers he'd had and lost.
the man who kicked him out at his lowest moment to run off with his best friend. the man who didn't know how to be a father but desperately wanted to try in all the wrong ways. the man he never got to fix shit with. and now he definitely never would.
hearing the batman say those same words ... roy knew it was different. they were all just a bunch of orphans anyway, right ? but when it's bruce wayne looking at him like that ... calling him son.
it shouldn't make his throat tighten as much as it does, and yet. “ think there's a record on how many parents someone can lose ? ” the joke comes out strangled, his best attempt to not drown.
FROM HERE // @worldsokayestdad
How many times has he been here? OUTLIVING all his ghosts. It's even harder for him, it always hass, when it's someone else. The way it slicks his throat and tightens his hinges rotten. He's amazed he's said as much. But he knows how suffocating the silence can get. How easily it offers itself like a blanket from the cold until you wake up with it tightly wound around your neck before morning, trying to scream the name of people who were never going to come back home.
His hands feel heavy. He doesn't know whether to reach and comfort or shake the grief out of him, as if that would somehow help. Violence was always just a temporary answer. The hole was already a wound that would not recover.
A whole lifetime pulled right from under you.
Arms folded over his chest instead. He stepped closer and just hovered near by. Just in case either of them figure it out. A frail smile scratches at his features. A meager attempt to echo the sentiment but it dies as quikly as it fails to bloom.
" One is already one too many. " He murmured, the words heavier coming from him. Arms unfolding again then to grip him firmly on the shoulder. Silence hung in the air a bit longer. His gaze averts to somewhere else in the cave. " It was raining. And it was 396 steps from my bedroom to the open grave. And I remember the flowers on their caskets. I remember the last rites. But I don't think I can tell you what they looked like. "
What IS 1.98.7 ?
It's me being a big ass nerd and its the year Year One was made, and to me more like the definitive modern batman was born
An alarm rings through his head. The glass in his hand meant to be untouched is downed the next second and then back onto the table. " I assure you, your honor, it's just the suit. " A pleased smirk. " Brings out my baby blues. " He takes her glass next and downs it for himself. " Or you've had just a touch too too many. " Smirk slips into a playful grin now. " Let's get you home,
Cassie was spiraling, okay, not spiraling. She was winning every case in law and every case she took on, she was slowly climbing the ladder and making something of herself, something tangible that had NOTHING to do with her body. It was an accomplishment and she didn’t want that high to fade, the blonde attended a gala and ended up sitting next to Gotham’s most eligible bachelor and now she was admitting things that should STAY INSIDE OF HER HEAD.
Cassie is still holding her wine glass the same alarm sounding in her head. Abort! But he did not seem too taken back and next thing she knows he is escorting her right out the door, she slightly stumbles.
“Wait, I…. Are you kicking me out, Bruce Wayne?”
@worldsokayestdad
He looks down at her then, the affable air around him shifting slightly to something more somber. A soft exhale and the sharpness dulls the lines of his face. Maybe she just reminded him of an old friend. " No. " He answered plainly. " I'm making sure you get home safely. " He corrected, managing a small smile. " Or at least get some air. " He lets her go then but doesn't stand too far away. His smile still small even as it settles nicely on his features. " A lot of important people in there. Can't have them getting the wrong idea about you and your great work now, can we ? "
took a mental health day off fromwork today just to be sad and i think that's very batm.an of me
Too powerful. Too strong.
Or maybe you were just weak.
He strained once to use his powers in this place. It had been in the beginning, when he first woke to confusion and the dark. Wounded, grunting through his grit teeth as he fought restraints, Kal had sought out a familiar sound. A steady beat, a certain tone, the right frequency, the heartbeat that he tried to silence.
There was a time when he sought it for comfort. He knew Bruce hated it. Had lined his cowl with lead the second Kal's weakness was exposed. Had hidden kryptonite in his belt in a lead-lined box.
You never trust anyone fully, do you, Bruce? Even the ones who love you the most. Talia.. Selina.. Clark. And it didn't do much to help you, either.
But there is a piece of him, a piece of Clark, that tries to lurch up in his chest. It is weak, and in despair, fails. But it is thankful Martha still breathes. But thankfulness is crushed as the glaring alien god stares down her savior. Bruce sits and Kal takes one step closer, forming a shadow over Bruce from the lamps above them.
"You were weak. You still are. Too easy to kill now; you took the fun out of it. But.. I think I'd enjoy it just a little." Little bat in your cave, do you think the god you once worshipped cares about your aches and pains? Your guilt?
The thought occurs to him: If a simple offering would satiate a hungry god? But he doubts it when he can't even satiate his own. What more a man like him, right? A sigh and he looked away, arms folded, his gaze pensive and far away. The threat of him hanging over his head, following him around where ever he goes. He thinks, even now, no wall and no hindrance, so visible to him - how easily he would be able to do it. How meaningless his murder would be. How easy all of this could be for naught.
He pulls his gaze back up from the floor to meet his angry blues. No longer covered in armor. No lead to speak off except maybe for the traces of it in the pen in his pocket. No ounce of KRYPTONITE beyond the dust that lingered in the corners. " If I could give her back to you — I would. " He whispered and he hates how his own voice echo it back to him, bouncing from wall to wall. " It's just you and me now, Clark. "
i do love pride month too because its so fun to see how people change their icons
