Riz Gukgak Is The Character Of All Time. He's A Goblin. He Has A Gun. He's In High School. He's Saved

reminder that bruce was PREPARED to help jason find his birth mother!!! he travelled with him across countries to find her!!! yes bruce had previously prioritised pursuing the joker over jason, but the second he was reunited with him, he made the decision to stick around!!!!

screaming. JASON WAS NOT IN ETHIOPIA ALONE!!!!

"I have a weeeed soda!" My sibling, just now

They praise you for working at 110% and then punish you the second you can't maintain it.

ohhhhh I get it now. the "gifted kid" discourse exists because people see it fundamentally as a sign of Privilege and not as a largely meaningless category that puffs up weird children before setting them up for the same unremarkable lives as everyone else; thus they interpret people going "the educational system gave me false expectations before ultimately abandoning me to the same heartless world as everyone else" as "why am I, The Main Character, not getting everything I ever wanted."

Divine doesn't even register to me as a religion word anymore. That word refers to girlthings like me and the weird sex we have

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”

Shoutout to characters that are both genuinely deeply kind and also genuinely terrifying and willing to spill buckets worth of blood to get something done. And neither of these are an act, they're just both very true.

I think more leftists need to recognize the gap between “this should happen eventually” and “this would be feasible to achieve in the near future”

Like, I’m an anarchist. (Although maybe I’m not according to some people but idk who cares) And I think an ideal world would have no nation states or borders. But that’s not going to happen tomorrow, or next year, or for a long time

So while I wait, instead of endlessly hemming and hawing over what the would should look like, I try to focus on what I can do right now to improve the world in material ways and to lessen the suffering of others

Bruce knows he can’t scold his children on gala etiquette because he himself had none.

Baby Bruce was a kid who imitated an innocent baby rabbit in looks only. He’ll sit nice and quiet between his parents, watching everyone with his autistic eyes, and suddenly be like.

“Uncle Philip dwinks a lot. Daddy doesn’t wike any of you. “ He gives Carmine Falcone a Look. “Especially you. He says you give him tummy ache.”

Then he goes back to being cute and eating his dessert. Alfred chews back a laugh.

The comic I did for the @gothamhorrorzine

a nosy socialite at an event, leaning down: “Oh Richard, it must be so hard for you in that house, what with Bruce’s…proclivities for nighttime guests.”

Dick Grayson, fully aware at age 13 that Bruce Wayne is a Loser™ whose only “nighttime guest” is Clark Kent, who comes over to “review cases” with Bruce before/after patrol while both of them awkwardly ignore any and all tension between them: “Something like that.”