Reyislikesotired - ☆ REY ☆

(◡‿◡✿)

(ʘ‿ʘ✿) “what you say ‘bout me”

(ʘ‿ʘ)ノ✿ “hold my flower”

Hunting Palismen.png

may the muse well never run dry, may the au's florish, may the inspiration be overflowing

I call upon the fan fic writing gods to bless you with the perseverance to finish one of your unfinished drafts. 

May your fingers dance along the letters upon your device with ease, may the devil of distraction stay far from you, and may your work not need much editing.

I pass this blessing upon every fan fic writer out there.

bruce wayne absolutely keeps every single drawing, card, and handmade gift his kids have ever given him. like, every single one. no matter how messy, weird, or even accidentally insulting (looking at you, jason’s “world’s okayest dad” mug from when he was thirteen), he keeps them all.

he has a drawer in his desk with the “important” ones—like the first time dick called him dad in a scribbled crayon card, or the weird but endearing origami bat tim made when he was sleep-deprived.

but the real collection? it’s in a reinforced, locked safe in the batcave.

alfred found out once when he caught bruce carefully putting away a pile of random childhood drawings. when asked why he had an entire safe dedicated to them, bruce just muttered something about “sentimental value” and refused to elaborate.

but really, he just can’t bear to part with them. his kids may not always say it, but those little gifts? they were proof that, in their own way, they loved him. and no matter how much time passed, no matter how rocky their relationships got, he never wanted to forget that.

..

years later, damian finds the safe.

he’s not even trying to snoop—he was looking for something important, something mission-critical, and instead, he finds this. a locked safe, hidden behind a shelf in the batcave, coded with one of bruce’s personal encryptions. naturally, he assumes it holds classified files, maybe contingency plans, or something worthy of all the security.

he hacks it in under five minutes.

when the door swings open, damian stares.

it’s not secret mission files. it’s not weapons or emergency cash. it’s… drawings? old birthday cards? a lopsided clay model of a bat (which he immediately recognizes as drake’s terrible handiwork)?

his eyes narrow as he pulls out a faded crayon drawing—one of his, from when he was younger. it’s him, a wobbly little stick figure, standing next to bruce in an oversized bat symbol. he vaguely remembers making it, but he definitely doesn’t remember bruce keeping it.

“tt.” he huffs, shoving it back in the safe. ridiculous. sentimental. pointless.

and yet…

when bruce walks into the cave later that night, he finds the safe locked again, nothing out of place—except for one new addition. a freshly drawn sketch, carefully folded and placed on top of the pile.

it’s of the whole family. him, grayson, todd, drake, cain—everyone. standing together.

bruce doesn’t say anything about it.

but the next morning, damian notices that his drawing isn’t in the safe anymore. it’s framed on bruce’s desk.

listen im not much of an artist let alone a comic artist but here is my hand at this one specific scene from this dp x dc fic i was reading

L -> R

i screwed up a bit on the right side with the panels so i kinda put a letter in them so u understood in what order to read them, hope it makes sense

fic: change in management by voidwriting

i apologize for my handwriting so here's a quick typed out version

superman: young lady-

sam: sam. its sam. and before you say "oh, no! you can't do this! it's too dangerous for a little girl like you!" hear me out

superman: uh.. okay? what's your pitch?

sam: i'm doing this whether you help or not, regardless of your approval. you are not my dad and it wouldn't matter if you were because i don't listen to him, either

superman, sighing: this is the robins all over again

[moments later]

bill, a goon: FUCK why are you here? *points at superman* this isn't your turf! *points at sam* and why does she have a fucking mace made of kryptonite?!

sam: oh this isn't kryptonite. i'm not interested in carrying harmful material on my person

bill: you are literally holding a fucking spiked mace! and if it isn't kryptonite, what the fuck is it then? it's green and glowing like a fucking lightbulb!

sam: it's nunya

bill: ?? nuny-

sam: none ya' business

bill: *takes deep breath*, *brings out chair* *sits* *head in hands* this is the robins all over again

superman: it really is...

The way The Boy Wonder depicts Jason’s memory of his murder in this panel is haunting.

He looks at the readers, as though begging them to help. He doesn’t know they’re the ones who voted for his demise. That they chose this.

I can’t get over it.

to that ONE (1) person who started a mob psycho 100 × batman crossover fic on ao3, godspeed my friend, you are doing the lord's work 🙏🏻

so we all agree that hunter volunteers at camila's vet clinic right