Sometimes You're Forced To Confront The Fact That Your Father Will Always Die For You And You Have A

yes, we all going crazy over "there you are, you little killer" line but if you take the moment to think about it - it makes sense why Ghoul said that in the first place. he thought Lucy killed Wilzig bc she was after the bounty like he was. he saw her talking to "target" back in Filly like they knew each other and next thing you know - Wilzig is dead. decapitated. no signs of struggle or fight or involvement of other fractions so that leaves one suspect - damn vault-dweller and her sting gun (really?a sting gun? not even the real one with actual bullets? are you kidding me?) so of course when Ghoul catches up with her - he doesn't believe shit. vaultie is a good actress, all that golden rule talk could've worked on him but alas he doesn't have a soul. so let's see when her mask falls off. that's why he let's himself to indulge a little: taunt her here and there, push her over the limit and see what she'll do. and it worked. she bit his finger off. little killer.

So I know the event is @catws-anniversary but this is actually one of my favourite Steve-Bucky scenes.

There's been a lot spoken about their seamless teamwork here -- Steve doesn't even look in Bucky's direction when he tosses the shield at Bucky -- but there is just...so much packed into this fluid cooperation?

Bucky as far as we know in CATFA was a sniper (although in the supporting material it does say Bucky learned boxing before he joined the army). It's only when we get to CATWS we see him being a strong melee fighter. A lot of Bucky's new fighting style takes into account his metal arm -- he favours it for blocking and forceful striking to spare his flesh arm. He's also spent most of his recent decades doing mostly solo work. He had backup support during CATWS to get him into position, but actually on task? He's by himself chasing down his targets.

This is the first time Bucky fights on Steve's side after his time as the Winter Soldier. Depending on how you headcanon Bucky receiving his serum, this would also be the first time Steve treats Bucky as an equally strong super soldier. Bucky's experience, fighting style, physical constitution have all significantly changed since the last time they were on the field together, not to mention Steve's own style and experience have evolved.

Yet they slotted straight back into each other's space, like they had never spent a minute apart in the last 70 years. Apart from the "end of the line" spell-break, nothing else speaks such volumes about their bond.

(Also goddamn CEvans with that beautiful pirouette. No wonder the stuntspeople say they can't replicate his footwork)

🖤Knights of Justice🤍

- and they were roommates

the ghoul

Brother, we hunt not with horse nor hound . . . but hope to pluck a dainty doe to ground.

Some Cooper sketches :)

Happy New Year, From GAZA 🌨️ ❄️

Hello 👋, My name is Momen Al Madhoun / I am a digital artist / a devoted husband / a father of two children " Ezzdeen & Amir " I live in Gaza City in the heart of the Genocide, working tirelessly to amplify my voice to the world through my artwork. I walk long distances to access electricity and internet, creating under harsh conditions to ensure my voice reaches the Tumblr community through my art. I hope you support me to continue surviving and ensure the safety of my family. Thank you for your time. Stay safe 🙏

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me watching the hallucination episode: "hell yea!! the hallucination episode!"

Bruce had spent years abroad, stuffing lifetimes of experience and training and knowledge into a fraction of time. There is an endless number of memories to dwell on, thousands of people, of smiles, of hands outstretched in welcome and of fingers wrapped around weapons. There is an endless number of memories to dwell on. But often since his robins he thinks of the six months of a Russian winter he spent learning what it meant to be cold, learning what it meant to survive alone.

Four months training, one month tracking caribou across the northern mountains with his trainer, and then a month to get back on his own. 

It might have gone well if not for the wolf that dogged their steps. His trainer had beaten him bloody and taken his jacket when he’d found Bruce leaving scraps in the snow for it. 

“You do not have enough to be giving what you have to a dog,” the man had spat. “If you want to throw your life away I will end you now and save myself a month of carrying you.”

Bruce had argued back, they could pull down another caribou, the meat would keep in the cold and he could carry it with him until they reached somewhere the wolf could find a pack of it’s own. His trainer had only looked at him in pity.

“I knew you had too much heart when I took you on, I do not enjoy training boys who will only go on to die, sobachka. You as you are now can only carry enough vital resources for yourself, any more and you will collapse before you reach safety, or you will give up too much food and find yourself starving and you will be it’s next meal” 

That night on watch the wolf had slunk up to his side, eyes gleaming like stars in the firelight and ribs showing clean through it’s fur. It had taken the last of his beef jerky gingerly right from his hands. He knew the wolf would continue to follow them, knew his trainer would kill it if he saw it the next day so he had gripped his hunting rifle in his hands and taken aim just to the left of it’s body. As if it knew exactly what the sight of gun meant it shot off, disappearing into the night before he’d gotten the sight up to his face. 

In a way the man had been wrong. Making his way back alone Bruce had made a fatal mistake, falling through a crevice in the ice and into water just above freezing he’d passed out moments after dragging himself out. He would have, should have, died. But the wolf had found him, had dug a den out of the snow and dragged him in out of the wind, curled up around him until Bruce could feel his fingers again and get out of his wet clothes.

In a way the man had been right. Bruce didn’t have enough for the two of them, hunting was hard and it wasn’t made much better with his companion. By the time they’d made it back to his trainers hut both of them were more bone than skin but Bruce had been so proud. He should have known, by the look on his trainers face, should have been better, faster, thought smarter. But he hadn’t, wasn’t, and the man had shot the wolf before Bruce could throw himself in front of the bullet.

Sometimes, on the worst of night in Gotham, he wonders, between him and Robin, who is the wolf, and who is the boy.

wagon wheels and dirt roads - exploration on the worst of the training instilled in Bruce and how he tries not to pass it on to his robins