Wait If I Dont Post This Now Im Just Gonna Forget To Do It Later. Its Not Finished But LOOK Its Talia

You’re right and you should say it.

shit man if i had what Ren and Nora have I’d be straight too

Scars, India Lawton / Becca Stadlander / This Party Never Ends, Diana Zhuk / Burning House in Winter, Bettmann Archive / Daria Golab / Shadow Work, Indigo / Painting Disaster From A Distance, Motohide Takami / Burn it Down, Brian Luong / Red House, Morten Schelde

Paige leaves behind Carpenter and Faulkner in search of a new god.

She doesn’t really know how to go about such a thing. She’s more than well versed in strengthening a god, years of practice have made her far better at cultivating worship than any preacher, but the search for a god is something she lacks background in.

At a loss for what else to do, Paige drives.

She keeps the silence for a while. Hoping that being alone with her thoughts might lend her mind to some form of holy revelation. She manages to keep that up for almost twenty minutes before she sighs in anxious boredom and starts fiddling with the radio dial.

Static gives way to whispering voices gives way to a prophet of some new religion. Paige turns the sound up in sudden interest.

“-dream is to create. Dear listeners, we have reached a new stage. An apotheosis, if you will. I have metamorphasised from a decaying, droning worker, asleep to all the things that matter, to a new man with new purpose in my heart. I have gone from a sacrifice to something sacred. Something new. My god saw me about to devote myself to a deity of unholiness and was so gracious as to call me to something deserving of my worship. And, in answer to that calling, let us sing our next hosanna-“

Paige keeps listening to the radio, fighting against the tiredness nipping at the edges of her consciousness as she does so. There’s banging in the background, the soundproofing of the room the host is in quieting it enough that you don’t hear it at first, but it’s certainly there. Sometimes it drops away, presumably when whoever’s trying to get into the recording booth succumbs to the sleep that Paige is fighting so valiantly against. It keeps coming back and Paige thinks that a lot of people must be very desperate to get this man to stop worshiping his god.

Coming to a decision, Paige pulls over and gets a map out to try and find the radio station this prophet must be broadcasting from. She wants a new god after all, a gentler one than any she’s been provided with so far. And even if this man's god is not her god, and Paige suspects that it is not, then maybe he’ll still be able to tell her how to birth something she can worship. Just like he did.

Bruce I swear to god call them your fucking sons

WonderTrash96

Cassie is explaining to Kon and Bart some of the reasons why Wonder Woman is, without doubt, the greatest hero of this age. They’re both too tired from the mission they just went on to leave so Cassie’s had a captive audience to lecture about her favourite topic for the past half hour.

She’s having, quite frankly, a fantastic time.

As she’s moving on to her next point and Bart and Kon are letting out identical groans Tim comes in and starts making a coffee. For a moment Cassie wonders if she might be able to drag Tim into the audience of her presentation, he’s probably just as tired from work as Kon and Bart are from their mission, but then she realises Tim’s already listening.

This wouldn’t shock her, for all his flaws Tim can be an excellent listener at times, but Tim isn’t wearing a listening sort of expression. He’s looking at Cassie with the sort of complete shock that only belongs on the faces of burglars caught in the act, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes rounder than can be natural. She’s about to ask him what’s up. She’s about to check to see if he just had some world shattering revelation that’s going to save them all a world of hurt in the near future, but then Tim says under his breath, so quiet Cassie almost doesn’t hear, “WonderTrash96” and Cassie is suddenly worried about very different things.

She takes a moment to curse her twelve year old self, well thought out arguments as to why as a hero Wonder Woman really is beyond reproach and all, for being idiotic enough to run a fan blog and not anticipate that it would come back to haunt her later on.

Then, before Cassie can curse her twelve year old self too thoroughly, she has the thought that Tim would have to know her childhood fan blog very well to recognise an argument she made there years ago. Then she remembers the semi-regular discourse she used to get in with a batman fan blog and how Tim has said a lot of the exact same things as that blog used to.

Cassie bolts upright, her eyes narrowing. “You” she hisses.

The two of them look at each other for a second, reliving years of vitriol in a moment.

Tim shakes himself and in an instant he looks normal again. “I would like to propose we never mention this ever again for the sake of both our reputations.”

Cassie nods slowly, relaxing back into the couch. “I have always loved a good state of mutually assured destruction.”

Tim gives a short, sharp nod in return and leaves with his coffee. Kon and Bart both look a little like they might want to ask what that was about but are too tired to do so. There’s a moment of silence before Cassie comes back to herself.

“Along with her contributions to the 1983 United Nations summit-” she starts, talking over Kon and Bart’s groans and absolutely not thinking about the level of dirt she and Tim have on each other now.

~

That night, Cassie gets messaged on an account she hasn’t touched since she was fourteen.

(22:34) I can’t believe you haven’t come up with better arguments since you were twelve.

(22:36) fuck off She types back.

She’s grinning before she even hits send.

First Meeting

Ann froze.

She was right in front of the door. All she needed to do was to reach out and knock, but to cross the gulf of space those few feet had turned into seemed nigh impossible.

As she’d walked to the address scribbled in magic on the back of her hand she had considered the possibility of freezing up. It had been one of the worries that were distinctly more real than the others that had crossed her mind, but perhaps due to its mundanity Ann had pushed it aside. It was easy to argue that she’d faced far scarier things that were far more likely to kill her in the past and the fear she felt now wouldn’t be anything like that.

It turned out that those thoughts were wrong and this fear was exactly like that. Ann wasn’t one to freeze at danger anymore though.

The reason that Ann was trapped inside her own mind at that moment was, when going through all the possible emotional dangers of this visit, she hadn’t thought about the physical ones. Namely warding to stop anyone too powerful from attempting to breach the threshold.

She started to reach out with her mind a little, trying to feel for any cracks in the warding without alerting the person who set them she was doing so. Any shapes that weren’t perfectly regular, any lines that didn’t quite connect, any place where the magic wasn’t quite strong enough. She tried to extend her arm and found she could stretch it about halfway to the door. She smiled at that with it quickly turning into a grin when she realised that there was no resistance when she moved her mouth.

Ann could feel a little of the shape of the power when she reached out. It was unwavering and secure, exactly how warding magic should be, but she knew that if she felt a bit deeper there would have to be some way to make it crumble and

Huh. It feels like me, she thought. That’s weird.

And with that her ever so careful prodding of the house’s defences lost all subtlety while her subconscious took over in its ravenous hunger for answers.

She tried to reign it in as quickly as she could, take back control of the feelers she’d woven through the warding network, but if there are two things that don’t often work well together they are emotions and control.

A moment later a man was opening the door. He was about a head taller than Ann, in his mid thirties with bags under his eyes, accompanied by an air of annoyance which didn’t quite match a man greeting a dangerous fellow magician he’d warded his house to protect against.

Ann was frozen again but this time it wasn’t anything to do with the warding. There were a thousand versions of everything that could happen next filling the uncrossable space between them. Ann could see in the way the man’s eyes widened that he saw the impossibility of reaching out across that void of possibilities as well as she did. The movement drew attention to his eyes and away from the bags underneath them.

The irises were the same shade of blue as Ann’s own.

“Huh. You look like me.” She said, forgetting for a moment how inconceivable it was less than a moment ago to cross that chasm. “That’s weird.”

The Batman:

Bruce Wayne:

Enemies-to-lovers, but instead of featuring a villain redemption arc, the heroic one is getting progressively more corrupt, unhinged and fucked up, and the one who was originally the clear-cut villain out of the two is just like "well mark me down as scared and horny"

It’s definitely been said before but at least I’m right