#Dè

[littlefankingdom]

What if I gave you some snippet of WIPs I may never finish because I'm a perfectionist with too little time?

It has always been his luck, and curse, that Gotham Cemetery was in Bristol. His luck, because it was close enough to the manor for him to visit his parents' mausoleum as much as he wanted, in the Wayne's plot. His curse, because it was close enough to the manor for him to feel the judgment of the dead every hour he spent awake. From where they were, did his parents judge him? Did the Graysons hate him? Did Janet Drake fear his influence on her son? Did his boy wait for him every day, just like his last? Was he alone, even with his mothers' bodies by his side? Was he cold? Was he sad? Was he scared?

~ Demain, dès l'aube

It is not with pleasure that Bruce accepts the invitation given by Ra's Al Ghul. The man may be the only living parent to the woman he loves, but he cannot forget the terror he felt for the last 72 hours since he discovered his ward's bed empty. Even now, with the boy safe and sound by his side, his warm hand in his, Bruce can still taste the fear. Even if he refuses, the man has already proven he knows how to make Bruce go where he wants him to. He has already shown how easily he can take what is the most precious thing in his life from under his eyes without being caught and make Bruce run around the world to find it. So, it is with reticence that Bruce accepts the invitation, holding his boy as close as he can. However, if they dare try to take him from Bruce again, then “Lord, have mercy,” as Alfred says, Bruce will make hell rain on them as many times as they need to get the message.

~ Who Wants to Live Forever?

Jason would be lying if he said Bruce was an emotionless man. He had become more closed off as the years went on (and someone's death did have affected him, but Jason wasn't ready to admit that out loud yet), but his feelings could be read easily by a combination of signs, hidden by the cowl and the cape during their nighttime activities. Well, mostly, because his mouth and voice's intonation still gave some of them away, like how terrified he was when one of them would get hit and did not immediately reappear in his line of sight unharmed, yelling their codenames with all the strength his vocal cords could stand. And in some long-lost memories of his that came back at time, Jason could dig up an affectionate and proud smile the Dark Knight would give him after a mission well done where he had come up on his own with the solution to save the day. Anyway, that didn't matter at the moment. No, what mattered was that Jason knew Bruce, and he had never seen him look this small and terrorized at the same time. Something was wrong.

~ Prologue to Playboy

For years, his birthday had been a sad event, with loneliness, grief, and the aging butler as his only guests, but his 21st had been different. For his 21st, Alfred had managed to get Bruce's old friend and classmate from boarding school, Oliver Queen, to come to Gotham, and had succeeded in making Bruce invite his only current friend at Gotham U, Harvey Dent. Quite the small party for such a milestone, but it was a record for his young master. After a fine dinner at Wayne Manor, the two men, boys in Alfred's eyes, had dragged a hesitant Bruce into town. A sober Harvey, not of age yet to consume alcohol and a more law-abiding citizen than the two others, had brought back two very drunk young millionaires around 5 in the morning. Oliver's loud and bad singing woke up the old butler to meet a laughing Bruce barely standing up, holding to his friends' shoulders for support. Alfred had never seen him smile like this since the tragedy. The three partygoers had crashed at the manor for the night, and for the first time in a decade, there wasn't any silence in the old house.

~ Playboy

The sound of a child screaming. The smell of popcorn. The taste of blood in his mouth. The sight of empty, dead eyes. The feeling of warmth from the people around him. The two bodies on the ground are calling him, trying to guide him back to the alley, but he is anchored in the presence of people around him, strangers that cannot see him struggle. The absence of guns on the scene, of the sound that haunts him, may also be a reason. As he comes back to his full senses, he sees the child running to his late parents, and a dreadful feeling conquers him. That poor boy cannot suffer like he did, like he does. Bruce will not live with himself if that happens. There's laughter in the manor where it used to only be dreadful silence. There's light where there used to only be darkness. There is Robin when it used to only be Batman. They teach each other the same lesson: life goes on after death. And, as the years go on, there's a son instead of a ward in Dick Grayson.

~ Triggers

Dick had been excited about Metropolis; the art deco architecture was so beautiful on the prospectus his parents had shown him; but his own tour had ended here, in Gotham. And it wore its name well, because neo-gothic ruled over the city, with huge decorative gargoyles at the corner of each considerable building. Even in Europe, he had never seen so many gargoyles in one city. They were mostly on churches and cathedrals on the old continent, but here, they were everywhere. And distracted by the singularity of Gotham, he didn’t see one of its creatures moves until it landed in front of him. It was an immense bat, well over two Dicks tall. It wrapped its body in its wings, its head peeking out at the top from a collar of black fur. Its silhouette was strangely human, and the way it stands mimicked humans, but it was too animal-like, too bat-like for a man. Dick should have been terrified; any children would have been; but instead, he was captivated. He had grown up listening to tales full of creatures and spirits, but this was his first time seeing one. And even though most of these stories were warnings on how dangerous these beings were, he felt no fear.

~ Unnamed Criptid!Batman AU

[clhook]

Je sais pas trop comment articuler ma pensée donc je ne développerai pas mais les livres collector les reliés le jaspage sur les livres qui sortent en mille exemplaires différents pour faire acheter les gens les influenceurs littéraires qui vont à des événements complètement hors sol comme des bals littéraires bah ça me rend folledingue et il faut que ça s'arrête

[lerefugedeluza]

Toujours des trucs de plus en plus volumineux parce que pourquoi se contenter de papier quand on peut coller des dominos et des dès ?

[glitter-stained]

I was having feelings about Victor Hugo's poem "Demain dès l'aube" (Tomorrow at Dawn) about his grief following the death of his daughter and Bruce losing Jason and I wanted to make a little comic with the text, but I'm scared to draw Bruce and can't seem to get the angel statue right, so here's a spotty translation of the poem so that you, too, can feel sad about it. Choices and sacrifices were made to keep the rythm and most significant parts, things got lost in translation that I couldn't salvage, but I still hope it helps sharing a little of its beauty.

Tomorrow as the land pales in the light of dawn,

I will leave for you see, I know that you await

I will go through the woods, and through the mountains high

I can no longer stay so far away from you.

I will walk with my eyes boring in thoughts my own

Unseeing any sight, unhearing any noise

Lone, and unknown, with a bent back and folded hands

Sad, and the day to me will be such as the night.

I will not gaze upon this dusk a golden fume

Nor the shade of the ships sailing to the harbour,

And then, as I arrive, I will lay on your tomb

A bouquet of holly and blossoming heather.

Victor Hugo, from the Poetry Collection «Les Contemplations» Book 4, Pauca Meae (1856)

This isn't even the poem I've read that fits them best, far from it, but I keep picturing Bruce walking from the cave (leaving the Robin suit) through Crime Alley to the cemetery and being sad about it and now you get to be sad too.

[manglechan1204]

Avant d’avoir les résultats et qu’on ait tous envie de crever, j’ai voulu faire un tour des fanfics sur la politique française ( a des fins scientifiques bien entendu ) et oh boi y’a des trucs à dire

Sur Wattpad :

-Il y’a plus de 270 fanfics Bardella x Attal ( Les gars ?? Je comprends amour haine tout ça, mais wsh )

-J'en ai trouvé aucune sur le Front Populaire ou la gauche en général ( ce qui est une bonne chose ? je suppose ? )

-Par contre j’en ai lu une ( pour la science toujours ) où ils sont des persos secondaires 🤷‍♂️

-Antoine Daniel a fait des dégâts irréparables au milieu des fanfics shitpost /pos

AO3 :

-Y’a un tag populaire " RPF Political " ( Je dois vivre avec cette info maintenant )

-La tendance est beaucoup plus au ship Macron sur ce site bien que tjr pas mal de Bardellattal ? *Ugh*

-Toujours aucune du Front Populaire mais j’en ai trouvé avec Mélenchon qui datent toutes de 2017/2018

Voila

Si vous vous voulez plus de détail hésitez pas 👍

[unluckyfee]

I’m currently kinda sick so, once I’ve finished off existing commissions, I would like to practice my comic skills. I think it would be a good way for me to show you some lore of my OCs, so…anyone you’re most interested in??? (Bonus if you want to see anything SPECIFIC let me know!!!)

Characters under cut!

This is Hunter & Greyson! They’re a high elf and a tiefling couple who start out a bit ~pissy~ with each other, but realise that’s because they’re FAR more similar than they initially thought

And this is Adriel and Vylath, an angel and demon couple who explore who they both really are…with a healthy amount of sex and religious guilt :’)

[girafeduvexin]

J'ai envoyé une de mes nouvelles à mon père, regardez ce commentaire :

[plaidetchocolatchaud]

Bah, l'un des trucs que je redoutais pour les prochaines années s'est produit, les JO de 2030 dans les "Alpes françaises" sont bien partis pour se dérouler, quand je dis que le Massif Central est infiniment supérieur aux Alpes et que personne ne me prends au sérieux

[ehbahpu]

j'en reviens pas que les heteros blancs ils leurs suffit de dire qu'ils sont fiancés pour trouver un appart du premier coup

[flashbic]

Épisode 22: Une journée à la campagne

Où Isabelle se fait kidnapper mais ça va au final ça lui fait un peu des vacances

[simply-ellas-stuff]

I love Drake dè Mon

[nebulasethunderplanque]

MARRE !! MARRE. MAAAAARRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEE. J'en ai marre

[unluckyfee]

OC

I just found this screenshot redraw sketch from bg3 with Hunter and Greyson so, enjoy kisses

[ahalliance]

je lamente de plus en plus souvent le fait qu’étoiles stream depuis 2015 mais n’upload que officiellement des vods depuis 2022

[leleaulait]

Meilleur antidépresseur : la randonnée 🌲

(Savoie, lac d'Aiguebelette)

[sgrobailancoiseam]

De Sfinge de Glainne Phlàta

Chan eil na clann ceart gu leor. Cò theasaig iad [sa] cʰaoile? Sùilean sorcha - lasta le iontas - cuirte mì-earbsach, neo-dhòchasach nuair an neach-tomhaic a' caisealachadh.

Clisichidh iad mar gum bhiodh an clagannan buailte fosgailte, am mac-meanma glàmta. Am beachdan sreapach, casan fluich, a' ruigeadh 'son a' ghrèine, leag 'son inneil fiodha chruaidh.

Tha an t-ùir glann fathast Tha gaoth ùrar faisg air. Thugaibh do Molech na rudan a tha leis a' bhiast, 's abairibh na rudan a tha anns ur inntinn - 's ann a tha a fiùghach dhe ur teanngannan 's an t-saoghal farsaing.

Seasaibh sa bhlàths grèine gu dalmar.

____________________

cuiribh mi ceart!

a bheil sinn theasaig anns a' chaoile? | are we instructed in starvation?

a bheil mi a cleachdadh am subjunctive ceart? "mar gum bhidh"? | Am I using the subjunctive correctly (i know there isn't a subjunctive but there kind of is, right?)

An e am 3rd P pl possessive pronoun fathast an/am nuar tha na rudan iorla? | Is the 3rd person possessive pronoun still an/am when the object is plural?