#Wayne Rodent Control | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

distant-wcrlds · 2 years ago

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Spook's First Promo!

All my muses are kind of lacking in people to interact with right now, so if any of my blogs pique your interest, as a writing partner or even a lurker, please send me a message or fill out my interest tracker!

Some brief character descriptions, in order of appearance:

Aceen & Damus Tall (@slayemal-na-nerate)- twin Zabrak brothers who grew apart as they got older, eventually becoming entirely estranged as one was recruited by the Republic Army as a medic and the other turned to smuggling and bounty hunting

Inquisitor Lavellan (@laimdalen-itellam)- an amnesiac elf with a big heart who SHOULD NOT have been placed in charge of an apocalypse-prevention militia but managed to do a half-decent job for the sake of his found family

Garrett Hawke (@gayrett-hawke)- a disaster gay whose barely-controlled, but incredibly strong, magic and highly exaggerated appearance of self-confidence caused him to stumble his way into unwanted fame and infamy, an equally disastrous group of friends, and enough trauma to last him several lifetimes (icon is by @melonadraws)

Leia Angelica Morales (@sweltering-in-central-city)- a geeky tomboy with social anxiety who was finally fulfilling her childhood dreams of becoming a superhero until time travel rewrote her past and left her to manage her terrifyingly destructive powers on her own, a job she failed at miserably (icon made with @ummmmandy's picrew)

Taura Caterina Andreas (@lovely-little-bull)- the Minotaur's grandchild, raised by him to fear the gods and their children, who must come to terms with being the child of an Olympian herself, all the while wondering if her new family will kill her like they did her beloved "Pappoúlis" once they realize she's a monster just like him

Rachel "Raven" Roth (@empath-from-azarath)- a take on the Titan that pays more attention to her upbringing and empathic abilities, both of which were formative in creating the deadpan dork of a goth you all know and love

Asafké Baru (@not-a-twilek)- a force-sensitive orphaned mechanic who disguises herself as a human while trying to earn enough credits to finally escape the desert wasteland of Tatooine, where she crash-landed after escaping the men who enslaved her as a child (icon made with @ummmmandy's picrew)

Bruce Wayne (@guardian-of-gotham)- your favorite autistic batdad who fights crime while dressed like a flying rodent as an unhealthy coping mechanism, now with familiar flavors of kindness and self-sacrifice to cleanse your soul after dealing with any unwanted depictions of him as an edgy, brutal opportunist who doesn't love his kids (I'm looking at you, Tom K*ng)

Aya (@not-so-artificial)- a lovable semi-organic computer program made of pure green lantern energy, who is normally very sweet but is also very bad at understanding and dealing with emotions to the extent that she tried to eliminate all life and emotions from the universe after experiencing heartbreak (she got better, though)

Rules in my pinned post. Bios in the pinned post for each sideblog. This was supposed to be posted yesterday, but my head hurt too much to deal with tagging it. I promise it's not an April Fool's joke, though.

(Also, please ignore how simple Aya's blog is right now. I only put her out this early because I needed the 9th icon to make the image format look better.)

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siremasterlawrence · 4 years ago

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DCU: Batman, Nightwing & Robin

Alfred Pennyworth - A Guide

“Master Wayne is not home right now.”

“Can I take a message for him?”

“Actually I think I will wait for him”

“I beg your pardon”

“I Said I Will Wait For Him and You Will obey”

Alfred is about to say something when his eyes pop with a Spiral in his eyes.

I smile patting his shoulders as he smiles brightly.

“Good night sleep tight all will be as well roses tomorrow.”

Bruce Wayne (Wayne Manor)

Alfred let’s me in to the Mansion whole heartedly with excitement.

The door slams as he guides me to the mansions living room and he smiles.

Giving me a hug he heads to the kitchen coming in with snacks.

“Here you go Master Wayne comes in soon”

“Bring me some tea, and rub my feet”

“Oh Dear! I love too sir”

A few hours later Alfred swings the clocks dials.

The big clock swings to the side showing me the cave, and we enter it.

We descend down the staircase as the bat cave full of flying rodents attack me.

“Master Wayne, this is Lawrence “

“It’s nice to meet you, but why are you in my cave?”

“Simple because I am in charge “

“So you are Batman huh?”

“Yes you are in charge”

“You will do as I command “

“I am in absolute control “

“Only what I say matters”

Dick Grayson - Nightwing

Nightwing agrees to meet Batman on the roof of Gotham City.

Batman swings in lands hard on to the roof and does a superhero style landing.

Bruce and Nightwing brood sharing each other’s hands, and the grip is tighter.

Batman raises his needs bending them in and knee him hard.

“What the fuck Bruce? What is going on?”

“I am trying to save you from yourself “

“What are you talking about?”

“I am Master Lawrence slave and you will be too”

Bruce knocks Dick out and lift him over his shoulder.

Bruce used his batarang and launches them both on top another building,

He does back flip jumping on to the bat plane and rush out.

In the batcave he arrives and I smack him awake.

“Focus on me Dick Grayson”

“You will do only as I command”

“You will serve me forever “

“Yes Master “

Robin - Dick Grayson

“Jason Todd”

“Come with me”

“What the fuck?”

“Bruce ? Dick?”

“You are his?”

“Who ?”

“Stare in to our eyes “

“Your eyes so beautiful “

“What about them?”

“I can’t stop staring “

“You belong to me”

“I am in control “

“Surrender to me”

“I am all that you want”

The end.

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dangerousconnoisseurdonut · 4 years ago

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Choice #7; Cowboy/Steampunk Fusion

Right, here we go with lucky #7; So, a Gotham that is still kind of young and a bit like the Old West like Back to the Future Part 3. The Wayne's are throwing a party with their 8-year-old daughter, Bryce in attendance.

Everything is going swimmingly until a youngish Theo Galavan and his Maniax show up, including 14-year-old Jerome and Jeremiah, as well as 'Matches' Malone intent on robbing the place.

Anyway, Jerome and Jeremiah think Bryce is cute but are a little messed up in the head so they think branding her with their mark is like a promise ring as they promise they are going to be big time Outlaws and treat her like a queen, and the brand is meant to scare other hoodlums off.

Thomas naturally goes to protect his daughter but Theo, who was looking for an excuse, shoots him, then Martha. He hits Bryce and sets fire to the home, figuring he's killed the last of the Wayne's, so now there's nothing stopping him from taking over Gotham.

Too bad he didn't see Matches go back inside to save poor little Bryce. Remember how Matches said he doesn't kill babies? Well, I expanded that to kids as well. Now, Matches feels bad for his part in Bryce becoming an orphan so he takes her and moves away from Gotham to help make her strong and train her to be a bounty hunter. Along the way, she meets and is trained by old west heroes like Bat Lash, El Diablo (Lazarus Lane), and of course Jonah Hex.

Matches also teaches her the most important thing she'll need to know to get close to Theo Galavan; how to act and sound like a man. To be a perfect duality; female vigilante and male Bounty Hunter. As she reaches her 18th year, he knows he's dying, so he kills himself after explaining everything she'll need to know, and makes it look like she killed him, so 'The Bat' will have her first Bounty, and she goes one step further; as she was branded, so too will she brand her victims with the insignia of a bat. For her male persona, she takes the name, Matthew Malone.

It takes her a year to make it back to Gotham as Matches took her to Mexico or something to keep her safe, and along the way she meets Lucius Fox who worked for her father, and Lee Thompkins, a doctor who was run out of Gotham by Galavan's partner, Sofia Falcone.

She helps Lee sneak back into Gotham, disguised as Thomas Leslie (if you have a better suggestion, I'm open to it). Gotham has changed a fair bit in the eleven years she’s been gone as there are now fairly tall skyscrapers, but people still get around by horse and buggy, though these horses are robots, hence the steampunk element. By an amazing coincidence, the saloon Matthew stops in at to get a cold beer, is patroned by the Valeska brothers, who still work for Galavan but now have their own crew; who else, but the Horribles. Everyone else clears out when the Horribles announce their impending arrival, but 'Matthew' wants to finish his beer, then he'll leave. Jerome tries to hassle him, but Matthew ignores him until Jerome goes for Matthew's gun (yes, he has a gun, I will explain later), only to find Matthew has a dummy gun that is coated with a mild form of Tetrodotoxin; not enough to kill him, but his arm and mouth go numb. Others would be offended at this; Jerome, his brother, and the others all find it hilarious; even Victor laughs at it. Matthew then pulls out $100 bill and pays for the first round of drinks for the Horribles as apology for the gun.

Matthew goes to leave but the Horribles invite him to have a drink with them; anyone who can shut Jerome up deserves a drink. They ask him if he's a Bounty Hunter with the kind of money he has, and he answers yes. They ask him about his family, and he‘reveals' he's the‘son' of Matches Malone, who Jerome and Jeremiah vaguely remember. When Matthew reveals his father was killed by The Bat, the others are intrigued and ask if he actually saw The Bat as no one is certain if she's real or just a legend. Matthew then rolls up his sleeve and reveals a 'Bat Brand', which she gave him when he tried to protect his father.

Before more can be said, Selina Kyle, protege of Tabitha Galavan and Bryce's childhood friend comes in with some news she just got from the telegraph office; The Bat was sighted not too far from Gotham, and may be on her way to their city. The Horribles are all excited to test their skills against The Bat, but Matthew warns them that she is lightning quick with her whip and daggers and is good at using the shadows to disappear, and that's without taking into account her horse; a large black stallion named Daredevil (if you think it should be Ace, tell me, but Daredevil sounded more ‘Old West’), a far cry from the steampunk horses everyone in Gotham uses. He then rises to leave, saying he's hoping to find lodgings and work in Gotham for maybe a month as his last Bounty managed to get him pretty good, and he could do with some steady work for a bit. Selina offers a room at the 'House of Instant Happiness' she owns; normally $50 a night, but she'll knock it down to $40 if he helps keep the rowdier customers under control the nights he's there. He agrees, and they shake on it; Selina notes in passing that, even for gloved, powerful hands, they seem a little small for a man, but brushes it off.

That night, someone from the Narrows is dragged out into the streets as he can't afford his ‘protection' this week, so Sophia is determined to make an example of him; as her enforcer goes to pull the trigger, however, a large piece of metal, later determined to be in the shape of a bat, comes whistling through the night and hits the guy right in the hand, taking it off; The Bat has come to Gotham. She swings down and informs Sofia that ‘she has never liked bullies'. Sofia responds that she doesn't like rodents that get in her way. The Bat responds that Sofia's face may be a little pinched, but there's no need to call herself a rodent.

A fight breaks out, and the worst injury The Bat gets is a black-eye while she takes down three of Sofia's best men and Daredevil takes out one of Galavan's men. The next day, Matthew is again at the Saloon when the Horribles arrive and they ask him if he's still looking for work. He responds yes he is, so they take him to see Mayor Galavan who is more than happy to take on the son of an ‘old friend'; it helps that Matthew can fight like nobodies business and is as good a shot as his father. While there, Matthew meets the Galavan's butler, and her heart clenches painfully in her chest; it's Alfred, and he just looks so downtrodden, not at all the man she remembers playing with her as a little girl. A week goes by with the days as Matthew and nights as The Bat, and Lee worries that Bryce will burn herself out before she gets her revenge, but Bryce is determined, more so ever since she saw Alfred. Matthew manages to move up a little when he manages to hold off the Bat long enough (maybe Lee in her costume? I haven't figured that out yet). What's surprising is how friendly Matthew gets with the Legion of Horribles as well as Deputy Mayor Oswald Cobblepot, his assistant Edward Nygma, and even his bodyguard, Victor Zsasz, all of whom are treated like dirt by Galavan and Sofia.

Bryce finally gets her chance; Galavan is holding a party at his house with his lieutenants, and Matthew is invited for protection. The setting is too perfect to pass up and she lays a bomb, ready to die herself if it means she'll take down Galavan as well. Problem is, Tabitha is there as well, which means Selina is there, along with the Horribles, Oswald, and poor Alfred is slaving away in the kitchen. She doesn't care about her own life, but she can't risk theirs; yes, Jerome and Jeremiah were there when her parents were killed and branded her, but she’s honestly come to like the two psychos. She manages to sneak a note to Selina, hoping she'll get the Horribles and Alfred out in time, signed by The Bat.

Selina manages to get the Horribles together and get them to Alfred, who was always rather nice to ‘The Freaks’ as Sofia and Galavan call them so they don’t want to see him get hurt either. When she shows Alfred the note, he just about has a heart attack; it may be more mature than when he last saw it, but he'd know that handwriting anywhere; it's *Bryce's* handwriting. He reveals a mark hidden on the paper near the signature; a heart with thorns wrapped around it;Bryce and Selina’s ‘secret symbol’ that they always signed their notes with to appear more ‘cool’. Selina can hardly believe her childhood friend is alive and well (if a little nuts to dress like some kind of Zorro/Bat hybrid and fight Outlaws) and Alfred, knowing his beloved little Mistress is alive, realizes why Matthew Malone looked so familiar. Matthew is really Bryce, which kick starts the reasoning in the twins minds; Matt, as Bryce, was the cute little girl they promised themselves to all those years ago. They manage to locate the bomb and disarm it.

Later, after the party, and Bryce mourns the lost chance of getting her revenge by warning Selina who must have found the bomb and disabled it out of loyalty to Tabitha, she meets up with Lucius at a cave just outside Gotham, unaware that the Horribles and Selina have followed her. They watch as Bryce, Lucius, and Lee all argue about just how far Bryce is willing to go in her revenge. Yeah, Lee wants to put Sofia in the ground, but she wants to be alive to enjoy it. Bryce responds that she has spent the last eleven years of her life training for this chance; learning sword and pistol, becoming ambidextrous so no one would even think to link left-handed Bat with right-handed Malone, learning to deepen her voice and more masculine habits so no one would suspect a thing. She hasn't gone through all that just to see Galavan get away with his crimes; she's going to kill him (remember, Bryce was raised by Matches, El Diablo, and Jonah Hex, not Alfred; she doesn’t quite have the same problem with killing as she normally would). Selina, Bridgit, Ivy, and Ecco all manage to get back to the city before Bryce and lay a trap in her room. When Matthew arrives, he and Selina talk for a few minutes before she deliberately calls him Bryce, and asks how she could not tell her that she was alive. Bryce goes for one of her smoke bombs to get out fast, but the others manage to ambush her, tie her up, and manage to knock her out before giving her to Jerome, Jeremiah, Jervis, Jonathan, and Victor so they can... interrogate her. ;)

They take her back to their private place where Jeremiah examines her arm and, sure enough, there's their old brand right where they left it when Thomas Wayne tried to stop them. He and the others, who are in a relationship, talk to her and find out her plan to kill Galavan, which they wouldn't mind as Galavan is a chicken-heart, no lip, slimy worm, but they also like Bryce so they don't want her to enact her suicide mission. To keep her from escaping, they tire her out with sex (cheesy, I know, but she is an escape artist and a very determined woman; they have to keep her energy low while they come up with a plan that doesn’t involve her dying). Bryce has had sex before, both as a woman and as a man (she has a strap-on, OK?), but it was always painful as her partners cared more for their pleasure than hers, which didn’t bother her as sex was just a tool to get close or a means of getting information. But the guys are all tender with her and make sure she enjoys it and she doesn’t know how to block this out like she does pain. Particularly with Jonathan as the little sweetie has never been with a woman before so the others guide him on what feels good for a woman; she’s embarrassed when he actually makes her squirt. But when she hears word that Galavan and Sofia have captured Lee and Lucius, she knocks them out with one of Jonathan's gas bombs, and goes to turn herself in. Galavan tortures her and Sofia goes to kill Lee, only for the Horribles, Oswald, Ed, Zsasz, and undercover lackey Joe Chill, who in reality is Marshal James Gordon to come charging in to save the day. During a scuffle, a lamp is knocked over, Sofia is killed by Barbara who wants Lee to be in a threesome with her and Tabitha (Lee: Hey, I’ll try anything once), and Galavan's house is set on fire. Bryce takes after Galavan, determined to see this end as it began. Victor can't follow because of all the flames and Jonathan's suit is hardly fireproof, so it's up to the other three. They see Galavan and Bryce fighting, but Galavan is about to get the upper hand and kill her when he's shot from behind; it's Alfred with a shotgun.

Alfred: Consider that my resignation from your service... Bloody Bastard.

It's not easy but they all manage to get out and Bryce will be laid up for a while, but she's done what she set out to do. Too bad she doesn't know what to do now that's gotten her revenge.

Bryce is in a room owned by the Sirens, surrounded by her friends just after the fire: Well, I should be up and around in about a week or two, then I’ll find a new city to go to and-

Ivy: Wait, you’re leaving?!

Male Horribles who have been waiting outside the room for the OK to come in but have been listening at the door: LEAVING?!

Bridgit sighs as she stands, rolls her eyes, walks to the door, opens it, and the male Horribles, excluding Victor as he naturally has more sense, all come tumbling into the room: Behold, Bryce; you’re idiots.

#Another choice #somebody stop me #gotham #poll #cowboy

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chips1977 · 5 years ago

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WARNING : I'm just an addict ... addicted to music. There are people who are born to make music, o8 thers are born to hearing. Whenever was part of this second group. Maybe it's. a habit, I gotta use, even if it 's rock, jazz or the quiet storm. Great pictures of the things I love - music, painting, books, photography, architecture, design, women, and more. I love music more than lasagna. Better to burn out than fade away. The older you get, the better life gets. But time also seems to be accelerating, the clock running too fast. So, looking at those early days, everything is very slow, stretched, and great significance. The most recent time, I spent busy with simple things.People think rock and roll is only about teenage rebellion, but why can not exist old rebel too? THE RESIDENTS is my Biggest Addiction, and,THE RED KRAYOLA, OLD TIME RELIJUN-ARRINGTON DIONYSO,R. STEVIE MOORE,SHRIMP BOAT,SMEGMA,THE SUN CITY GIRLS, LEGENDARY PINK DOTS,MINIMAL COMPACT,FRANK ZAPPA,CAPTAIN BEEFHEART,THE VELVET UNDERGROUND,THINKING FELLERS UNION LOCAL 282,THE EX,CAN,FAUST,WEEN,TELEVISION,THE MODERN LOVERS,SNAKEFINGER,MILES DAVIS,SUN RA,KRAFTWERK,ANAL MAGIC & REV. DWIGHT FRIZZELL,MICHAEL YONKERS,MOONDOG,THE WORK,RAYMOND SCOTT,THE GO-BETWEENS,SLAPPY HAPPY,ART BEARS,NAKED CITY,HENRY COW,SKELETON CREW,JOHN ZORN,FRED FRITH,THE FIBONACCIS,BONGWATER-MARK KRAMER,SHOCKABILLY,BAND OF SUSANS,THE PAINTEENS,STUMP,RENALDO AND LOAF,CERTAIN GENERAL,THE THREE JOHNS,CHROME,PRIMUS-LES CLAYPOOL,EUGENE CHADBOURNE,ESKIMO, MINUTEMEN, MISSION OF BURMA,FUGAZI,BLURT, GLAXO BABIES,THIS HEAT,THE SEA AND CAKE,SAVAGE REPUBLIC,TUXEDO MOON, XTC,U.S,MAPLE,THE PAPER CHASE,DANIEL SMITH- DANIELSON FAMILE ....... Other musical priorities are: HENRY FLYNT, THE FEELIES,PERE UBU,THE CLASH, JOY DIVISION, PROTOMARTYR, CAR SEAT HEADREST,THE BETTER-BEATLES, DARKSIDE,THE MEMBRANES, THEATRE OF HATE, NOCTURNAL PROJECTIONS,THE LINES,CARDINAL,CLEANERS FROM VENUS,THE JAZZ BUTCHER, ELVIS COSTELLO,THE MONOCHROME SET, TELEVISION PERSONALITIES, ALTERNATIVE TV, GONG,ANNIE ANXIETY, THE DEL-BYZANTEENS, WALL OF VOODOO, BUTHOLE SURFERS, RICHARD DAWSON, MAC DeMARCO,WOVEN HAND,16 HORSEPOWER, DAVID EUGENE EDWARDS,SHELLAC, SLINT-PAPA M-DAVID PAJO, LUNGFISH, OM, EARTH,THE BOOK OF KNOTS,LOUNGE LIZARDS-JOHN LURIE,ANTON FIER-GOLDEN PALOMINOS,PETER BLEGVAD,PETER HAMMILL,TOMAHWAK,FANTOMAS,MR. BUNGLE, MIKE PATTON, SUICIDE-MARTIN REV+ALAN VEGA,AARON FREEMAN,JAPAN,STEREOLAB, SPACEMEN 3, SPECTRUM, SWELL MAPS, SILVER APPES, SWELL,MORPHINE, HAWKWIND, DEVO,FLYING LIZARDS, MAGAZINE, RALPH CARNEY,ROBERT WYATT, JOHN WILKES BOOZE, KEVIN COYNE, DAEVID ALLEN, SLEEPYTIME GORILLA MUSEUM, MX-80 SOUND, SOPOR AETERNUS & The ENSEMBLE of SHADOWS, THE AUTEURS,MAN MAN, DAMIEN JURADO, DAVID DONDERO, CHAD VANGALLEN, LONG FIN KILLIE, MAGIC TRICK-TIN COHEN, CHRIS COHEN, DAVID BAZAN,VAMPIRE RODENTS, JON WAYNE, PRAM,THE OLIVIA TREMOR CONTROL, PAVEMENT, PATTI SMITH, FUGS, PEARLS BEFORE SWINE-TOM RAP, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA-JOSEPH BYRD, FAMILY, GODZ, BONZO DOG DOO DAH BAND,PENTANGLE,THE INCREDIBLE STRING BAND, SLOVENLY, CHEER- ACCIDENT, TARWATER, COIL,THROBBING GRISTLE, SHAWN LEE, CLUTCHY HOPKINS, JURYMAN AKA IAN SIMMONDS AKA WISE IN TIME+SANDALS, ZOOGZ RIFT, THE BOOKS,NEW THRILL PARADE, CHRIS KNOX , DAVID KILGOUR,THE BATS,THE CLEAN,THE PIN GROUP, CRIME CITY SOLUTION, ROWLAND S. HOWARD,TOM WAITS, VIC CHESNUTT, JOE HENRY, ALEJANDRO ESCOVEDO,THE TAPE BEATLES,THE GUN CLUB, MAGAZINE,THE DENGUE FEVER,THE PAPER CHASE,THE FIERY FURNACES,THE MICROPHONES-PHIL ELVRUM,GARY WAR,RAILROAD JERK, KARL BLACK- SOCK HEADDED PETERS-LEMON KITTENS,THE MUSIC TAPES,THE SHAGGS, BOBB TRIMBLE, FISH AND ROSES, DIABLO SWING ORCHESTRA,POP D`ELL ARTE,MLER IF DADA,TOM ZÉ, WALTER FRANCO,OS MUTANTES,CAETANO VELOSO,MILTON NASCIMENTO, ARNALDO ANTUNES,VINICIUS CANTUARIA,JORGE BEN,CAZUZA,CEREBRO ELECTRONICO,CORDEL DE FOGO ENCANTADO,ROGERIO SKYLAB,OTTO, MOMBOJÓ,CRIOULO,MAX CASTRO, METÁ METÁ, ATALHOS, ROMULO FROES,WADO,ORQUESTRA IMPERIAL, LENINE,APANHADOR SÓ,MUNDO LIVRE SA,NAÇÃO ZUMBI, ALÇEU VALENÇA,ANT- BEE, BILL FAY,RON SEXSMITH,EL GUAPO,DAVID GRUBS,TORTOISE, SAM PREKOP, GASTR DEL SOL,HENRY KAISER,HOME & GARDEN, BOB DRAKE, MY DEAD IS DEAD, AKRON FAMILY, SWANS,THESE IMMORTAL SOULS, UNREST WORK & PLAY,THE TAPE BEATLES,THIS KIND OF PUNISHMENT,SWOLLEN MONKEYS (Ralph Carney) LIARS, SNAPPED ANKLES, CAVERN ANTI-MATTER, GANG GANG DANCE, THE DAMAGE MANUAL,THE BLACK ANGELS,SCOUT NIBLET,DIE FORM,LONELADY,COP SHOOT COP,WAR ON DRUGS,THE MONKS,TIM HUEY,TRACHTENBURG FAMILY,THE TRIFFIDS,THE CRUEL SEA,THE MEKONS,THE METOD ACTORS,THE SOFT BOYS,THE MISTAKES,THE MOUNTAIN GOATS,THE NEW CREATION, BRUCE HAACK, LOREN MAZZACANE CONNORS,GLEN BRANCA,ALBERT MARCOEUR,LOS ANGELES FREE MUSIC SOCIETY, SHELLEY HIRSCH,NEW YORK GONG,THE POLYPHONIC SPREE,LYDIA LUNCH,LOVE, LUCIA PAMELA,FATIMA MIRANDA,SAFETY SCISSOR S,RICHARD HELL & VOIDOIDS, SACCHARINE TRUST, ADAM FORKNER of [[[[VVRSSNN]]] YUME BITSU, ROY MONTGOMERY,RUN ON, LOVELY LITTLE GIRLS,SAFETY SCISSORS, BRIDE OF NO NO,TONE DOGS,TREAT HER RIGHT,TRIPOD JIMMIE,LIFTER PULLER,THEY MIGHT BY GIANTS,GANG OF FOUR,THE POP GROUP, WIRE, JOSEPH K, ORANGE JUICE, RAIN PARADE, THE GREEN ON REED, THE RENDERS,SOUL COUGHING-MIKE DOUGHTY, MAZARIN, KARATE- GEOFF FARINA, SECRET STARS,THE CHURCH, BLANK DOGS, FROG EYES, JOAN OF ARC, PURE X, YUNG WU,WAKE OOLOO, SPEED THE PLOUGH, DRIVE BY TRUCKERS, CAMPER VAN BEETHOVEN, MARTIN NEWELL, ERLAND and The CARNIVAL, CRIPPLED BLACK PHOENIX,CALIFONE,RED RED MEAT, LOW, Eels, LOWER DENS,THE BLACK HEART PROCESSION, KING MISSILE, THE NOTWIST, CLINIC, QUICKSPACE,THE COMSAT ANGELS,THE ASSOCIATES, EZRA FURMAN and THE HARPOONS, EFF BARZELAY, BORN RUFIANS, FERGUS & GERONIMO, CHAIN AND THE GANG-IAN SEVENONIOUS-WEIRD WAR-THE MAKE UP,ESCAPIST,MOONFACE, DEAN BLUNT,COLLEEN,ZERO 7,THREE MILE PILOT,LIFE WITHOUT BUILDINGS, CLOUD CULT,BLACKOUT BEACH,PINBACK,ARIEL PINK,MAGIC HOUR,MAJOR STARS, MAPS & ATLASES, MEGAFAUN,MENOMENA,TAME IMPALA, AMPS FOR CHRIST,ARBOURETUM,TRUE WIDOW,NANA GRIZOL,TIMBER TIMBRE,THE, IMPOSSIBLE SHAPES,THE LOVE EVERYTHING,THE MAE SHI, DEAD SKELETONS,THE SHIPPING NEWS,NEW WET KOJAK,GIRLS AGAINTS BOYS,LES SAVY FAV,GERMAN SHEPHERDS,SILKWORM,DIANOGAH,31 KNOTS,90 DAY MEN, 17 PYGMIES,PARENTHETICAL GIRLS, GUN OUTFIT,VAMPIRE RODENTS, PUMA JAW-PINKIE MACLURE and JOHN WILLS, SLUG GUTS, DOG FACED HERMANS, GOD IS MY CO-PILOT, THE SKULL DEFEKTS, CUL de SAC, PELL MELL, FOR CARNATION, MARVIN PONTIAC, ARIEL PINK, FLAT WORMS, AMEN DUNES, IDDLES, WAXAHATCHEE, WOLF PARADE, SUN KILL MOON, NATALIE PRESS ,CHELSEA WOLFE, SHILPA RAY, INCA SILVER, IBEYI, ANGEL OLSEN,THE COMET IS COMING,SLEAFORD MODS, VAGABOND, SUUNS, MADONNATRON, BIG THIEF, FAT, SHAME, SAVAGES, ICEAGE, OMNI, PARQUET COURTS, WHITE FAMILY, LYDA HUSIK, SHARON VAN ETTEN, dEUS, MITSKI, LAUREL HALO,JULIA HOLTER, MARISSA NADLER, JOSEPHINE FOSTER,TRACY BRYANT, MALE GAZE, TY SEGALL,THEE OH SEES, TYVEK, GOAT, WAND,YUCK, THE MOONLANDINGZ, VIET CONG, OUGHT, ALLAH-LAS,THE FRESH & ONLYS, WHITE FENCE, LAURA MARLING, EMA, PHAEDRA, LHASA, FIRST AID KIT, JANE WEAVER, WYE OAK, CAROLINER AKA CAROLINER RAIBOW ... E gosto de viajar, andar de bicicleta, de comboios, de animais.... não gosto de pessoas superficiais... sem cultura.Gosto de dança, de arte o que quer que isso seja!. Não gosto da monotonia. Gosto de criticar no sentido positivo. Não gosto de sonhar em ficar rico. Gosto do “Vive cada dia como se fosse o último “. Não gosto de despedidas. Gosto de pormenores.Gosto de perfumes. Não gosto de mentir nem que me mintam, não suporto hipócritas.Gosto do mar. Não gosto de quem não acredita em nada e não se importa com nada e tem a profundidade de uma colher... Gosto de viajar, gosto de ajudar e de saber que pude ser útil a alguém em qualquer coisa. Não gosto da efemeridade da vida e da constante lembrança da proximidade da morte. Não gosto de não perceber. Não gosto de atrasos e de quem não é capaz de cumprir as suas promessas, não gosto de quem volta atrás com a sua palavra e ainda menos que voltem atrás comigo. Não gosto da cusquice.Gosto de amigos e da camaradagem, não gosto das” amizades “que se perdem por coisas que no final das contas não significam nada... Gosto de palavras e de conversas sem fim... Gosto de pessoas originais, com humor,com ideias próprias... e com classe. Não gosto de carinho quando estou nervoso.Gosto do campo. Não gosto de seguir a onda.Gosto de coisas pouco claras, mas bem esclarecidas. Gosto de dominar. Não gosto de brincar com os sentimentos dos outros.Gosto de toques e de trocas de olhar, de demonstrações de carinho e de cenas sensuais. Não gosto de ficar bêbado até dizer a verdade. Gosto da grandeza das coisas simples, e gosto de coisas complicadas mas não gosto de complicações... O comum não me atrai, gosto normalmente de coisas que passam despercebidas... Gosto de gostar e de não gostar de tudo isto e muito mais...

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cdelphiki · 5 years ago

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“Tt,” Damian huffed, “That child has no right to call herself an Al Ghul. I do not understand why Mother kept her around, but I can see now why she did not inform Grandfather of her existence. She would have never survived training.”

“Mama loved me,” Athanasia whispered, and Jason could already feel a headache coming on.

He had to remind himself that Damian was in mourning, too.

At least, he probably was.

He should be.

His mother just died, right in front of him. And he��d been the one adamant about trying to save her. Trying to defend her.

Why in the ever loving fuck did he have to take it out on the baby, though?

Because, in all honesty, even if Athanasia was only a year younger than Damian… and Mara? How old even was Mara? Athanasia was definitely the least mature of the three of them.

Jason didn’t think that was a negative thing, though. Athanasia actually acted like a little kid in every facet. The other two acted like they thought they were adults trapped in the bodies of children.

Their complete lack of emotional control, however, proved they were still children.

“Yes, well, people sometimes love rodents,” Damian said snidely, “It does not mean much.”

Athanasia’s face screwed up, like she wanted to both burst out into tears over that comment, and also possibly stab Damian. The hurt on her face, too, like Damian had betrayed her, was fairly evident to Jason.

Jason had a feeling it would be difficult to teach this stupid brat what it meant to be a brother.

But Jason didn’t really care. He was going to drop these nuggets off at Bruce’s and call it done.

He was almost entirely certain that was his plan, now. He’d waltz up to the gate at Wayne Manor, type in the code, and push the brats through the door, then book it.

Maybe he could rent a car and just kick them all out on the sidewalk. That way he wouldn’t even have to risk being caught on the cameras and he could drive off as fast as possible.

Bruce could deal with Damian’s attitude and Athanasia's timid demeanor. Get all the kids good therapists.

What do you even say to a civilian therapist? ‘Hi, these are my assassin children from an ex-fling I had many years back that I just learned about. They want to kill everything and each other. Fix it.’

Jason would actually love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

Bruce was going to have one hell of a time explaining these kids away.

Reading all the gossip rags was one of the few things Jason was looking forward to.

And he’d do it safe from wherever the fuck he decided to move.

Cincinnati, maybe.

No one would think to look for him in Ohio.

Continue reading on Ao3

#Jason Todd #athanasia al ghul #mara al ghul #batman #batfam #batfamily #league of assassins #dc comics #fanfiction

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sellyoursoulforagoodfic · 5 years ago

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JKR 3: BRC 2

Part 3 of my Joker x reader series, Bruce Wayne x reader

Word Count: 1593

Summary: Bruce Wayne, is this a date?

Note: Just a little something to entertain our boredom during the apocalypse

It hadn’t escaped your notice that when Wayne told you to meet him at his penthouse he hadn’t given you the address, and it may come as a surprise to him, but you didn’t stalk him just because you knew he liked to dress up as a flying rodent at night. Like, it wasn’t hard to figure out where he lived, but you didn’t like the implication. The ribbing you’d taken from J about dressing in sweats as you were preparing to leave didn’t help better the mood you’d been put in by that assumption, either.

Upon arriving, you were quickly ushered around by his (delightfully honest about his employer) butler, Alfred. “He’s told me about you, Miss,” he informed you casually as you approached an elevator.

“Oh? Nothing good, I hope?” Your eyebrow was raised as you looked pointedly at him.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” he chuckled. “No, he told me what it is you do for a living, and that you know about his nightlife.”

Well, that doesn’t sound like he’s about to kill me . . . “Ooh, is this the shovel talk?” You channeled the Joker’s teasing voice to distract from your sudden nervousness. The elderly man didn’t look like he’d put up much of a fight, but you expected there was more to him than meets the eye. “Been a while since I”ve gotten one of those.”

“Partially, yes, but it’s also a warning. Master Wayne may like you, but I know you’ve still been seeing the Joker.”

You froze mid-step.

“And I know you’ve been keeping him somewhat under control, inadvertently keeping them apart. Come along, dear; you have to get ready. Anyway,” he resumed once you were mobile again, “your choice of company will remain our little secret because of that.”

“I hope you realize that I can’t keep him laying low forever.” Well, relatively low, anyway. He’s still being a bit of a menace to the general public.

“Of course. When he spirals out of control again, consider my inaction as a thank you for trying. Though, in that situation I would ask that you not get caught in the crossfire; I doubt either of them would walk out whole if something happens to you.”

“I’ll do my job. Nothing less.”

“Fair enough.” His sigh, however, spoke volumes about his opinion on that one.

“But I do feel like I should point out that Mr. Wayne and I don’t exactly get along,” you stated as the two of you finally exited the elevator on what you assumed was the floor you were supposed to be on.

“I’d argue that we don’t know each other well enough to know that,” said the man in question as he lounged in a chair. He was dressed in the same outfit as earlier, the casual one that made your eyes roam his body for a lingering second., “and you should probably call me Bruce since you’re going as my date.”

You crossed your arms. “The first time we met, you broke into my apartment and threatened me.” Good looks aside, that was still a line that he’d crossed that you weren’t particularly happy about. “Pardon if that didn’t exactly endear me to your boyish charms.”

“I prefer roguish,” he grinned, somehow knowing that you weren’t truly angry about the matter, “but that was just business. I had to make sure you wouldn’t talk. Clearly, that isn’t a problem since here we both are months later. Now, I’d like to get to know you better personally.”

Your eyes narrowed as you read something new between those lines, but you kept quiet for now. “Then you should probably stop breaking into my apartment, Brucy.”

“Literally twice.”

“One of those was while I was in my underwear, so it counts as at least two.”

“Master Wayne!”

“She was wearing a shirt!”

“That wasn't mine! And I had a guy in the literal next room over!” You were laughing even as you protested. Maybe all that time with J is fucking with me after all. But then again, life had been a bit strange ever since you came to Gotham, and flirting with a man that broke into your home just to talk didn’t seem that strange anymore. Maybe it’s just living in this city.

��Alright!” Bruce was laughing, too. “I’ll knock or call from now on.”

Part of you couldn’t help but wonder how this admittedly cute interaction would be going if he knew just who the other man was.

“Come on,” Bruce called your attention back to him. “I’ll show you where you’ll get ready.”

Alfred took that as a dismissal and said, “I’ll go prepare the car, sir. Do keep in touch after tonight, Miss; Bruce could use another good influence.” He was gone before you could really register that last statement.

You stared at Bruce in redirected confusion. “He said he knew about my job, and there he is, calling me a good influence? How the fuck does that work?”

“He thinks I need to loosen up, and while we don’t like your methods, we respect your code. You have a sense of honor Gotham lacks most of the time.”

“So basically I don’t have to worry about the Bat coming after me until the more dangerous criminals are off the streets?”

“Well, I’m hoping I can change your evil ways.”

“Aaaand that leads us into our next point,” you waved one finger in the air as you spun around on your heel to lean back on the door frame the pair of you stopped in front of to look at him. “If we’re doing . . . whatever this,” you gestured between you, “whole thing is, you can’t do the whole possessive/overprotective thing.”

“What do you mean?” Again, you were annoyed by how attractive he looked doing something as simple as scrunching his eyebrows.

“I know how it was with Rachel, Bruce. You jumped out a building for her. If we are going to be doing literally anything that’s not me working for you, you have to promise to avoid doing shit like that no matter what happens.”

You could see his jaw clench; whether it was at the mention of his old love (and her subsequent death) or at your insistence in this matter specifically, you weren’t sure. “If you know about Rachel, you know I’m not good at . . . what you want.”

“And unlike her, I can take care of myself,” you argued. Some part of your mind was screaming somewhere in the back of your head, What the fuck are you doing?! You don’t know this guy! You’re being too serious too fast! but this conversation needed to be had promptly. Things could only go badly if it wasn’t. You looked him dead in the eye when you said, “I will always have things you can’t know about; there will always be secrets between us on both sides. I’m being open to this, but you need to understand where my boundaries are. I just want you to respect me and my privacy.”

He nodded seriously. “I can do that.” There was a pause. “It probably won’t be smooth sailing all the time, though.”

“As long as we can talk this calmly about the problem, that’s fine.” You hesitated this time. “And as a last thing, I need you to be honest with me about jobs involving me. Always. I can promise to try and stay out of your way if we’re on opposite sides; hurting each other wouldn’t exactly be conducive to . . . whatever we’re going to be to each other.”

“Agreed.”

“And I refuse to be hired by you.”

His smirk came back the tiniest bit. “Oh?”

“Personal life mixing with an employer is always stupid, and you know it.” You decided to bring up the point you’d realized not long before. “For instance, this isn’t a job tonight, is it? You just paid me to be your date as an incentive.”

He held up both hands in mock surrender. “Busted.”

“Keep the other half of your payment, then. If you want me to come to things like this, all you have to do is ask. I’m a mercenary, not an escort.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“And, just to be clear--”

“Full of stipulations, aren’t you?”

“I like to know exactly where I stand with people. Believe me, Jack and I had the same conversation.” You didn’t worry about using Joker’s real name since it was so common, and you couldn’t keep calling him ‘the other guy’ forever. Especially since Bruce was technically the other guy.

“And is he . . . okay with you doing this with me?”

“We have a different kind of relationship,” you handwaved verbally, “but yes. Which leads me into my last question for the time being: Is this a date?”

“If you’re alright with that, I’d like it to be.”

“Then it is. Me on a date with a billionaire; I’ve got friends that would shit themselves at that one. I assume you’re okay with me having another guy based on that?”

“‘Last question’, huh?” he teased. “Yes, I’m alright with it.”

You nodded, mostly to yourself, and chose to ignore the jab. “Alright, Bruce. Leave me alone so I can get ready in peace.”

A kiss was suddenly pressed to your cheek. “See you soon.”

All you could really think about as you slunk into the obscenely nice bathroom was how J was right . . . somehow. For some reason his archenemy was into you despite your job . . . and you were more than a little okay with that.

#joker x reader #the joker x reader #heath ledger joker x reader #joker imagine #the joker imagine #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman imagine #batman x reader #dark knight imagine

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deathsmallcaps · 6 years ago

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Hey guys I have a dumb idea

I would like to write a 10,000 words of fan fiction during winter break, but I can’t decide on what to do. So here is twelve options. Either choose one for 10,000 OR 2 for 5000 each or 3 for 3333 each. Please let me know :).

1. ATLA AU: Some benders and non-benders can turn into the magical animals associated with their element, and the Gaang (season three edition) are being hunted by the most successful poachers in the world for roughly an episode. Aang: All of course. Katara: Magic fish possibly? Would have to workshop that one. Zuko: Dragon. Sokka: normal but excellent sword and boomerang fighter, of course. Toph: normal Bender, which makes her interactions with wild badgermoles and her innovations in metal bending all the more impressive. (DEFINITELY inspired by muffinlance’s wonderful work)

2. Umbrella Academy: What happened to the other kids? Mostly a description of Reginald being horrible and very quickly judgemental of the babies while gathering the Seven, and how/whether they grew up or not. (Have only seen the tv show but apparently in the comics Five and Luther are twins which may play into what I’m going to write.)

3. Batman: Peggy Sue AU for Alfred where he wakes up the day after the Waynes’ murders with memories of having witnessed his entire family die, and so resolved to make sure Gotham grows up safe, and so do Bruce and his little Robins, perhaps at the expense of them never living with him at all. It may or may not be difficult to make sure Damian is born lol. (It would be a big plot point)

4. I’ve been kind of working on this for a while but I have a choose your own adventure story (but you have to roll dice for unspecified paths) for each Disney princess. Have currently finished planning out most of Belle, just depending on what you guys want I would write up and post however many. The paths may depend on how much of the extended lore I’ve seen (For example, I’ve seen more of the Ariel extended canon stuff, so farther along you may meet Gabriella, or Melody, or so on.) it would be a Peggy sue au once again. I may also make a mini-one to ‘unlock’ with luck for Melody. Anna and Elsa are separate ones.

5. A continuation of The Amazing Maurice and His Educated Rodents, by Terry Pratchett. Maurice would once again be mostly the main character, and he would set up a kid to take over as Lord Mayor of Ankh-Morpork, and possibly get involved in the steamboat business. If we had time, we would meet more of the extended Ankh-Morpork cast.

6. The Nine Lives of the Marquis of Carabas: an exploration of Neverwhere, Coraline, the Graveyard Book, Good Omens, American Gods, Time Cat, Pan’s Labyrinth, the Neverending Story and Discworld. Basically how he lived one life and kind of ‘Forrest Gumped” his way around the stories.

7. A Phantom of the Opera/Over The Garden Wall crossover where a dead Eric decides to kill the Beast - at least he doesn’t try to suck the souls out of children! (Only young, beautiful women, of course). Wouldn’t be a very happy fic

8. Labyrinth (Jim Henson Movie): where after realizing that both she and Toby are too touched by the Fae to survive very long in this world, Sarah and her brother must rush to get back to the Labyrinth in time. (Small crossover with Pan’s labyrinth probablyy.)

9. Percy Jackson: and the extended pantheons crew all have a chill day and then do a murder mystery dinner party. I just want to mess around with all of them.

10. Dealing with Dragons and the Last Unicorn: Cimorene accidentally crosses over, meets the Last Unicorn, and invites her over for dessert. More plot to ensue, of course. Sort of a look at how a fractured fairy tale/aware of the fairy tale but unable to stop fate kind of story would mix.

11. (This one is likely to happen because I was recently talking to another user about this) The Boy Who Could Fly: after Max the dog dies, Eric appears with a puppy. Milky and Eric manage to then spend the day together, before he must go away again.

12. Peter Pan 2: Jane struggles to take care of her mother while raising her own daughters by herself. Desperate and in need of some time to mentally sort things out, she asks her children to call for Peter, despite being afraid they’ll stay away forever.

13. Wonder Woman and Captain America team up and are not shipped. They are just buddies who occasionally cross dimensions to hang out and punch fascists.

14. Steven Universe: The Pearls (along with a Steven who has seen a therapist) fuse into a time-travelling Mega Pearl and punch the Diamonds in their faces at the point where they have been the most oppressive in their lives. Rose Quartz does get treated as a separate entity, but instead of getting punched, she gets a HUGE talking-to.

15. The Princess and the Frog: When Naveen’s parents die shortly after WWII, they must choose between leaving her dreams and America behind forever or taking control of Maldonia. After the hardships of the Great Depression, the War

16. A Ghibli Fic: I want to write some some older Ghibli but would need a suggestion for that.

Sorry about the long post :)

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mizmahlia · 6 years ago

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Some guys have all the luck (or not)

Summary: Last time Tim checked the dictionary, he was one hundred percent certain isolation meant being alone and separated from others. So when he wakes up in Gotham General's isolation unit, he's surprised to see his entire family standing on the other side of the window.

Leave it to them to change the definition.

TW: The only warning is for general medical stuff like the description of symptoms. Nothing graphic.

AO3

Tim had nothing personal against rats, really. They were living, breathing creatures after all, and had a right to survive like any other being. But when they multiplied into the hundreds and thousands and were controlled by a former pest control agent who used them to do his criminal bidding?

Yeah, then he had a problem with them.

For the longest time they believed Otis Flannegan was dead. No one, criminal or otherwise, had heard from him in months after his encounter with Penguin, and along with Otis, his enormous rat colony had seemingly disappeared. So when a flood of calls came into local pest control companies about brown rat infestations, Tim got curious.

After hacking into the computer systems of four pest control businesses in the Bowery, he managed to find a single common denominator. Most of the calls were from businesses, apartment complexes and single-family homes near major sewer junctions. That meant one of two things. Either Waylon Jones had made some new friends, or their dear friend Otis wasn’t dead after all.

Tim laughed quietly as he lowered himself through a manhole. The thought of Waylon Jones talking to a bunch of rats was way funnier than it should have been. As his boots hit the bottom of the sewer tunnel he pulled out a high-powered flashlight and checked his watch. It was just past midnight and he promised Bruce he’d turn in early tonight on account of running a reconnaissance job with Dick the night before. He’d been awake a little too long for Bruce’s liking and while he hated to admit it, Tim knew he was right.

He sloshed through the brackish water and was grateful for the new boots Jason gave him. Any time they had to climb into a sewer tunnel meant their gear smelled absolutely horrible for several days. Jason found some great combat boots that repelled water better than their Wayne Tech-issued boots and gave Tim a pair when he mentioned he was looking for Otis. Between the boots and Tim ditching his cape for the night, he was confident he wouldn’t have to go home smelling quite as bad as usual.

The tunnel stretched out in front of him for about a hundred yards before it branched off to the left and right. Based on the system maps on his gauntlet screen, the main source of the infestation was to the right. Once at the end, he turned in that direction and sighed when he heard the beginnings of a high-pitched echo- undoubtedly the squeaking of an enormous rat colony.

“Way to go, Drake,” he muttered. “You should have left this one for Batman or Hood.”

The couple of inches of putrid water dried up into nothing the further he went, and the sharp smell of rodent urine invaded Tim’s nostrils, making him cringe. He was definitely heading in the right direction and based on how loud the noise was, he figured the colony was just ahead and to the left. He stopped for a moment, debating whether he should put his respirator on, and decided against it. That far underground, his voice would echo terribly anyway, and he didn’t want to take the chance Otis would mishear him and sic his rats on him, so the respirator stayed in its pouch on his belt.

He turned the corner and pointed his flashlight into the middle of the cavern, sighing when his suspicions were confirmed. The cavern floor was covered with rats and Otis was standing on a bucket in the middle, caressing one as another scurried up his shoulder.

“Otis? I’m gonna have to ask you to take your rats and get out of here.”

Otis turned to him and glared.

“I haven’t done anything wrong. Leave us alone.”

Tim stepped further into the room, dragging his feet so he wouldn’t step on any of them. He cringed when a rat, at least six inches long by his estimate, hopped across the top of his boots. He fought the urge to kick his foot and fling it away from him.

“Yet,” Tim replied. “We haven’t caught you doing anything yet. But this is a public health concern,” he said carefully. “And if you don’t leave, the pest control companies are going to start using traps and poison to eradicate the problem above ground, and I know you don’t want that.”

Otis leaned down and let the rat waddle down his arm and hop to the floor.

“Why are you being so nice?”

Tim shrugged.

“I’d rather not make a colony of rats this size angry. I’m not a fan of rodents.”

Otis sighed and stepped down off the bucket.

“At least you’re honest.”

He turned and started walking toward the other end of the room toward a tunnel branch leading toward the Sprang River. But before he could get very far, a thundering roar echoed into the room from behind Tim and the rats startled, swarming for the tunnel Otis was heading toward. They stirred up a massive cloud of dust as they went, turning the room hazy. Tim fumbled for his respirator and managed to hold it to his face as he followed Otis. He could hear Waylon lumbering down the tunnel he’d come from, presumably to investigate who dared to enter his sewer.

Once outside, Tim lowered the respirator and coughed, mentally cringing when he realized what he inhaled wasn’t just dust and dirt from the floor, but urine and fecal matter from the rat colony was well.

Gross.

On his ways back to Redbird, he calculated the chances of his getting sick from exposure to all of that and figured since he had the respirator on as long as he did, the chance was fairly low.

He left the visor of his helmet up for the ride home to savor the fresh air.

A pretty easy night, all things considered.

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The symptoms began less than a week later.

In the days after his visit to the sewers, he began feeling achy and tired, with his hips, back and shoulders hurting the most. He was nauseous and had a headache that just wouldn’t quit, though the acetaminophen helped ease the pain to a tolerable level. The low-grade fever he had at first climbed to 101F, and that’s what did him in.

He missed a get together with Jason to have coffee and catch up. When Tim didn’t show and Jason couldn’t reach him, he went to the Manor to find Tim lying on the floor next to his bed.

“Tim? What the hell? Are you okay?”

Jason crouched and wasted no time in picking Tim up off the floor. He gently set him on the edge of the bed and frowned. He held the backs of his fingers against Tim’s cheek before putting his hand on Tim’s forehead.

“Christ, kid. You’re practically on fire.”

Tim attempted to shrug but nearly fell over backward.

“’M fine,” he said. “Just the flu.”

Jason narrowed his eyes and remained where he was, kneeling on the floor in front of him. He noted how pale Tim was in addition to the fever.

“How long have you been sick?”

Tim tried to answer but before he could say a word, he began to cough. He held up three fingers.

“You’ve been sick for three days?”

Tim continued to cough and Jason watched as struggled to breathe in between. He reached a hand out and latched on to Jason’s wrist, squeezing tightly. Jason covered Tim’s hand with his and shook his head.

“That’s it. We’re going to the emergency room.” He quickly tapped out a text to Bruce, Alfred and Dick before taking off his wool pea coat and wrapping Tim in it.

“C’mon Timbit, let’s go get you checked out.”

Tim leaned his head against Jason’s shoulder, wincing as they went down the stairs. Even though Jason was careful not to jostle Tim much, everything hurt and he couldn’t catch his breath.

“We’re going to take the Range Rover,” he heard Jason say on their way to the garage. “It’s got heated seats and it’s easier to lift you in and out of.”

The last thing that crossed Tim’s mind before he passed out was how much Jason reminded him of Bruce, even down to the way he tried to hide how scared he was.

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Before he even opened his eyes, Tim decided it was too quiet in his room.

He could hear absolutely everything and nothing all at the same time, and it was disconcerting, to say the least. Something to his left beeped in time to his heartbeat. There was a rhythmic ‘whoosh’ on his right. And he heard the murmur of voices somewhere in the near distance, though he couldn’t make anything out.

He opened his eyes and saw the stark white ceiling tiles first. His gaze dragged tiredly from the ceiling to the wall at the foot of his bed, then to the door on the left. There was a sign on the glass and the only words large enough for him to read said, ‘CAUTION: ISOLATION. DO NOT ENTER’.

That’s not good.

It was only when he tried to swallow that he realized a ventilator was breathing for him. He fought the urge to panic and clawed at the blankets, desperately trying to find a call button. The beeping on the heart monitor increased and the noise made the panic worse. There was a knock on the window and Tim turned his head to see Jason with his hands against the glass.

“Tim, try to relax. Let the vent do its job. There’s a nurse coming, okay?”

Tim managed a thumbs-up and felt tears run back into his hair. He closed his eyes and tried to relax enough to let the ventilator work. The door opened a minute later and a nurse rushed in, covered head to toe in protective gear. She smiled when she got close enough and rested a gloved hand on Tim’s shoulder.

“Try to relax a little, Tim. There’s a doctor coming and we’ll see if we can take that breathing tube out. In the meantime, I’ll explain what’s going on, okay?”

He blinked in response and she picked up his hand.

“Squeeze once for yes and two for no.”

Tim squeezed once.

“Do you know where you are?”

Once squeeze, then two more.

“You’re at Gotham General in the isolation unit.”

He saw Bruce rush to Jason’s side and look into the room, raising his hand against the glass.

“You’re going to be okay, but you gave us a scare. We had to intubate you four days ago when you got too sick to breathe on your own. Thankfully your brother brought you to the emergency department when he did.”

He squeezed her hand once.

“You’ll be in isolation for a little while yet because you’re still infectious. You’ve got something called Hantavirus pulmonary syndrome.”

Tim’s expression must have been shocked because she smiled and nodded.

“I know. It’s incredibly rare. You’re one of the lucky ones; nearly forty percent of those who contract this don’t survive. You’ll have to tell us how in the world you managed to come into contact with the infected rats.”

A long pause before another squeeze.

“Unfortunately, you won’t be able to have visitors in your room while you’re in isolation, but they can certainly visit you through the window.”

She moved out of the way so Tim could see the entire window. Dick had joined Jason and Bruce, and Damian appeared next to Dick. He felt his eyelids growing heavy and tried to keep them open.

“Why don’t you get some rest. The call button is in your right hand, and when you wake up again, we’ll have the doctor remove the ventilator.”

One more squeeze and Tim let sleep take him.

Even though he was quarantined, his family made sure he wasn’t alone. During visiting hours, at least one person was there to keep him company. And Damian had let it slip that he hadn’t been in school since Tim was admitted, in order to prevent Tim from waking up and not having family there. And Dick grinned mischievously when Tim asked what the hospital thought of the constant stream of visitors, mentioning something about a grant from Wayne Enterprises.

There was an intercom they could use to talk to him, and they all took turns keeping him up to date on what was going on in the outside world. He was a bit of a celebrity for contracting the hantavirus, one of only four cases nationwide that year. Jason helped him come up with his cover story about chasing a stray cat into a vacant apartment building in the middle of the rat infestation zone. Poor Tim Drake and his bad luck.

“You should have worn your respirator, kid.”

Tim sighed and fell back against the pillows behind him.

“I know.”

Jason nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I mean, not to be that guy, but you’re immuno-compromised and need to be careful.”

Tim looked up, surprised at the emotion in Jason’s voice. He was staring right back at Tim, green eyes glassy.

“You had me terrified. I thought you stopped breathing on the way to the ER, and you actually did stop breathing a couple of times before they put you on the ventilator.”

Tim didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t try.

“Look, I’m not trying to lecture you. But this, this was a close call. As close as they come where you remain above ground.”

Tim swiped at his eyes with the back of his hand, suddenly feeling very alone.

“Hey, Timbit. Look at me.” Jason’s voice was rough, but kind. “C’mon.”

Tim looked up to see Bruce appear behind Jason’s chair, squeezing his shoulder. Dick was there again as well, as were Damian and Stephanie. Tim longed to be able to be in the same room as them so they could hug him, and he could hug them back.

“Just a couple more days until you’re in a regular room,” Dick said, grinning. “Then you’ll get all the hugs you can stand, plus a few more.”

“Yeah, I’ve been saving a few for you,” Steph added. “By my count, I owe you at least sixteen.”

Tim laughed and while it hurt a bit, he didn’t mind.

Despite having been in this room by himself for so long, he hadn’t been alone in the slightest.

Leave it to his family to re-designate isolation as a group activity.

#Whumptober 2019 #Whumptober Day 7 #Tim Drake #Batfam #Bruce Wayne #Dick Grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #MizMahlia's Fanfiction

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bellatrixobsessed1 · 5 years ago

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Athazagroaphobia (Part 9)

Ruon Jian flinches. The noise tearing from the princess’ throat is absolutely unholy. It is layered and unnatural. A cacophony of suffering and all that is wrong in the world. Overlapping her normal, rather soft and soothing voice is something much lower. There is another something that is more like a wail and beneath that, something perhaps mechanical.

Her nose and ears bleed profusely, and Ruon slinks further away. The infection...it could be in her blood. Can it transfer that way? Azula twitches and seizes.

“I told you all, didn’t I!” Bujing bellows. “We shoulda killed her. She’s gonna be one helluva vessle with that blue fucking fire.”

“Her leg…” Xuia points out.

“Those things can’t feel pain, it’ll walk.” Bujing snarls.

With a few more gurgling noises and gasping breaths, the princess goes rigid, her body seeming to lock with her back arched awkwardly and her fingers stuck halfway between a fist and being outstretched. Ruon Jian can’t gauge for exactly how long she held that impossible contortion. She seemed to have been suspended for ages and then her body drops with a considerable thud.

As soon as her head hits the floor, she begins to weep. Ruon Jian shudders, her cries are more disturbing than those screams. He thinks it is due largely in part to how human and pained her natural voice sounds beneath the excess vocal layers. The others step back even further, but he draws nearer.

“They’ve got him too…” Shinu trails off.

Do they? He wonders. Is that what it is? Is his mind his own or are they compelling him to come closer? To join them. An image flickers in his mind. A morbid grotesque thing; his body merging and fusing into Azula’s. He casts it aside as abruptly as he can manage.

He reaches a hand out to her, feeling the tension in her body slacken under his touch. Her body meets the floor. It looks so incredibly fragile and broken. She, though free from that disturbing living-flesh rigor mortis, goes completely still.

“Azula?” He tries.

He shouldn’t.

He should back away with the rest of them. If he had any sense at all, he would.

She turns her head and her lips part ever so slightly. For a moment, he thinks that she is dead. But then she slowly sits up, her hair obscuring her face. At last, self preservation kicks in and he backs away.

“My head hurts.” She mumbles. She brings her fingers to her nose and her expression seems to twist into something of pain and confusion. She looks directly at him. “You fool, don’t just stand there…” Her words are normal for her but her voice is uncanny and still holds traces of the layers. She is panting lightly. He wonders if she is even aware of the distortion in her voice.

.oOo.

“I need…” What does she need? Help? A doctor? She won’t find either of those. Reassurance, the word comes to her head. She won’t get that either, they are afraid of her. No, beyond that. They are horrified through and through.

For once it is not her own fault.

The ringing remains in her ears. “Get me something to drink.” She feels sick. She hasn’t time to fully comprehend this before she hunches over and expels what little food is in her belly. Mostly what comes up is a viscus mix of chunky, clotted blood, and some sort of thick black ooze.

It takes everything to keep herself awake and upright. She tastes rot and copper on her tongue and her stomach seems to be ripping at itself. She hugs her middle and gives a soft gasp of a cry. She squeezes her eyes shut and a single tear manages to escape.

“I’ve seen enough.” She knows that the gruff voice belongs to Bujing. “Let’s kill it before it can kill us.”

She opens her mouth to protest, put can only manage another pained hiss, it probably doesn’t help her case.

“Wait.” She thinks that it is Li. “This isn’t what the infection looks like, not entierly.”

“Then it’s evolving!” Bujing declares.

“You don’t have to kill her, Bujing.”

“And you don’t have to cater to her needs anymore, Xuia.”

Her vision blurs as the man draws nearer. “You didn’t think that she was going to last did you?” He’d have probably given her a good kick if not for his fear of making contact with her disease riddled body.

She doesn’t think that contact has anything to do with contraction.

No, whatever this is. It is a disease of the mind. She supposes that it is bad luck for, whatever they are, that her mind is already sick.

Such is her parting thought as she flops back to the floor.

.oOo.

Her first moments of awakening almost pleasant; there’s a relief in knowing that she has woken at all. But the moment of jubilation passes as quickly as it had set in, replaced by a sense of wrongness, as though the universe is just off somehow. She looks around her room, everything is as it should be, where it had been last left. The colors are the same, it isn’t inexplicably lighter nor darker.

But it is not the same.

Azula can’t place it, but it just isn’t.

She supposes it is more of a feeling than any real, tangible physical sensation. Something is wrong not just in her room, but in the world. She wishes that she could shake this feeling away and as soon as she does she longs to have it back, for that unnerved feeling is nothing in comparison to the sheer and utter panic that follows its departure.

She is alone again.

Alone and bound.

In a final moment of disbelief, she gives the leather strap a tug.

Azula jerks again with more force before letting an absolutely animalistic scream tear from her throat. Distantly, she notes that this isn’t the kind of behavior she should exhibit; that this is the kind of demeanor that would convince a person to tether her in the first place.

But she wants out, she wants out now.

Before she can go hungry again.

Before she can go thirsty.

And tired.

And completely feral.

Just at the notion of reliving her worst week, she may have already reverted into a feral state. She wishes furiously that the creature--mayhaps, may creatures--would have ripped the entirety of that memory from her.

“Let me go!” She hollers her voice is raspy and with a harsh shrillness. “You worthless pesents, let me go!” But what if they have already vacated the palace in favor of a more secure place. A trickle of nervous sweat forms on her forehead. “You can’t leave me here!” She shouts to the darkness of the hallway. “You can’t!”

She throws her head back against the pillow. At least this prison is more comfortable than the merciless ground in the Capital square. At least her position is more bearable. But she isn’t going to last as long here; there is no rain to provide her with drink and the palace is rodent free.

She watches the sun wayne and she knows that hours have gone by. Hours without a sound or a soul. She wishes that Bujing would have killed her as he had vowed to do. The night deepens and so does her resignation.

The initial shock and dismay gives way to a creeping numbness. In that numbness, that strange, off-beat feeling works its way back in. She fills the emptiness and quiet with trying to discern exactly what is not quite right about the world.

She doesn’t make much progress at all beyond noting that she is simply, somehow seeing the world through different lenses. But she still feels like Azula. She still feels as though she is in full control.

Except for that one whisper.

The one she can hear but only if she really tries to.

She isn’t worried.

That kind of thing had taken grip of her mind days prior to the comet.

Azula turns her head so that her cheek is against the pillow. She forces herself to believe that she is simply going to sleep after the stresses of a normal day.

.oOo.

“She looks normal to me.” Ruon Jian notes.

“They all do.” Bujing counters.

“That’s not necessarily true.” Says Shinu.

Ruon Jian looks to Li. The old woman seems to consider. “The incubation process I witnessed with my dear sister was much different.” She confirms. “I do hate to say it, but Bujing could be correct about an evolution.” She pauses. “A strain or possession that takes hold more rapidly.”

Ruon Jian’s stomach lurches. It was already bad enough when the progression was slow.

“So what do you propose?” Bujing asks.

“Keep her secure and see if she starts to deteriorate.” Shinu suggests.

“No.” Ruon speaks without fully forming the the reason for his aversion to this plan. The small gaggle of survivors await further elaboration. “This thing affects the mind before the body, right?”

Li nods.

“So we should let her go. We’re not going to get an accurate picture if we chain her up and treat her like she’s already gone…”

“Ridiculous!” Bujing exclaims.

“Fair.” Li disagrees. “We will let her go free until we have a reason to speculate that she shouldn’t be.” The old woman observes the cross and skeptical expressions she has just drawn. “Pay attention to how she walks…” and then she backtracks. “If she tries walking at all without crutches, that is the first sign something is amiss. If her gait is stiff, then she has been taken. If her body locks and tremors…” She slows her pacing. “I think that you understand what I am talking about. “We’ve all seen it.”

They mutter among themselves, some in agreement while others protest. “I’ll undo her restraints.” Ruon volunteers.

“Be careful.” Xuia requests.

Her eyes are eerily vacant when he gazes into them. “Azula.” He addresses and sets a try of stale food on her nightstand.

“Are you really here?” She whispers.

In way of an answer he loosens the leather straps around her wrists and lets her wiggle her hands free as he works on the ones binding her ankles and then the largest one that locks her torso to the bed.

“I thought that…” Her voice is hoarse. “You didn’t leave me behind?”

He shakes his head. “We were out all day trying to fix our barriers as much as we can. We’re not going to be able to stay here much longer. I don’t know where we’re going to go.”

Azula rolls her eyes, giving him a burst of reassurance that she is still the princess he sort of knew. “To the tribes, idiot. Like I told you.” She sits up and Ruon watches her movement closely. It is still slow, maybe some stiff. But it is the stiffness that comes with being confined to one position for too long, a theory confirmed when she stretches her arms and her good leg.

“I got you something to eat.”

She lifts it to her mouth and makes a face when the stench reaches her nose. Ultimately she eats it anyhow. “This is dreadful, did you scrape it off of a pan?”

“I’m not too worried about you.” He ignores the ungrateful commentary. “Bujing seems to think that you’re possessed, but you seem fine to me.”

“Fine…” she trails off. “I’m not fine.” She takes another bite and her face bunches. “But I’m not infected.”

“Do you want to come to the dining hall?”

“And grace my ears with Bujing’s lovely banter? No thanks.”

“I think that you should come down and show everyone that you’re still you.”

Azula sighs. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

Ruon Jian lets her finish her meal before helping her out of bed. “Shinu is working on new crutches for you. Some of our fencing was broken beyond repair so he’s using those parts to make you something that won’t break as easily.”

“At least someone is useful.” She huffs as she fights for balance. He holds her securly. “Is Chan the only one who died.”

Ruon Jian flinches. “Yeah…”

“What about my serving girl?”

“Xuia? She’s fine. Sort of, she’s not taking Chan’s death too well; they were dating.”

Azula sniffs, “only a complete dullard would try dating when the world is ending.”

“I don’t think so.” Ruon disagrees. “People need to find something to live for.”

“People need to face that there isn’t anything left to live for.”

#Avatar #Azula #Ruon Jian #Lo & Li #Fanfiction

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handeaux · 6 years ago

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Some Cincinnati Street Names Still Honor Boss Cox’s Minions

On Friday, September 4, 1908 the Cincinnati Enquirer carried a substantial legal advertisement, comprising four columns of dense type announcing Ordinance 731 as ordained by Cincinnati City Council

“To change the names of certain streets, avenues, courts, terraces, places and alleys of the City of Cincinnati as designated therein.”

What followed was a list of hundreds of Cincinnati streets that, partially or completely, would receive new names by order of the city administration. The Enquirer, which had cozied up to the political machine of George Barnsdale “Boss” Cox, printed the ordinance without comment. The Cincinnati Post, a constant burr under the saddle of the Cox Machine (and therefore the recipient of no city advertising) smelled a rat. In that day’s edition, the Post identified the rodent:

“Cincinnati having no Hall of Fame, Cox’s Council has honored his faithful servants by naming streets after them. For, after erasing names of 50 old streets, Council has substituted names of its own members, and what streets were left were named for members of the Mayor’s office, the Service Board, the Police Department, the City Solicitor’s office, the City Engineer’s office, and even favored friends who don’t hold city jobs, but who do control certain and diverse votes.”

Buried in that long list of renamed streets were more than 50 for which the new name honored someone in the city administration, and everyone in the city administration owed their jobs to Boss Cox. Heading the list was Mayor Leopold Markbreit, whose name now graced the former Williams Avenue. The mayor pleaded humble ignorance:

“I tell you it’s impossible to tell when, or where, or how lightning will strike, likewise honors. A few years ago I never expected to have even a cat named after me. I’ll have to find out where Markbreit-av. is and see that it is kept clean.”

Vice Mayor John Galvin got a street in Lower Price Hill, where the former Belmont Avenue became Galvin Avenue. But it wasn’t just the top administrators who got their names assigned to street. The mayor’s secretary got a street in Avondale. A street in Fairmount was selected to recognize Louise Amthauer, stenographer to City Council (and the only woman on the list). Kuhfers Alley, between Findlay and Charlotte streets in Brighton still memorializes Police Detective Conrad Kuhfers. Hopkins Avenue in Avondale was renamed to honor Thirteenth Ward Councilman J.H. Asmann Jr.

While the Post went apoplectic, the Cox Machine blithely basked in the warm glow of their own genius. This was an era when political machines controlled quite a few American cities, from Boss Tweed’s Tammany Hall in New York City, Frank Hague in Jersey City, and Tom Pendergast in Kansas City. All of them bought votes, handed out jobs to supporters and made legal (and criminal) difficulties disappear. Now Cox had a new reward system, one that cost a lot less than a financial bonus – name a street for your good friends!

Cox, to be sure, kept his fingerprints away from this little gambit. The outrage fell upon City Council. In particular, the ringleader was revealed to be Edwin O. Bathgate, representing the Eighteenth Ward on City Council. Bathgate sat on Council’s Streets & Parks Committee and submitted the names in that capacity. A loyal Cox foot soldier, Bathgate had recently been indicted for buying votes.

In fact, there was a perfectly good reason to change many of these street names. Cincinnati was engaged in a voracious annexation binge, and had gobbled up Westwood, Clifton, Avondale, Linwood and Riverside in 1894. Evanston, North Avondale and Bond Hill were still being digested. Many of the new neighborhoods had existed as separate villages for a long time and had streets with names identical to street already in Cincinnati.

Price Hill had Second, Third, Fourth and Fifth avenues, for example. There were two Hand streets; one in the West End and one in Winton Place. Both Hyde Park and Mount Auburn had Erie Avenues. Mount Auburn’s became Thayer and, later, Glencoe.

Winton Place and Westwood both had Epworth Avenues (evidence of strong Methodist congregations). Council decided that Westwood’s Epworth would become Bethany Avenue, but had not calculated on James N. Gamble, president of Procter & Gamble, having a fondness for the Epworth Avenue that ran by his church. City Council backed down and the Winton Place Epworth became East Epworth.

Gamble’s intervention reveals a pattern in the street changes – most took place in poorer neighborhoods and it was mostly the wealthier residents who objected. Saloonkeeper Louis Schueler, representing Cumminsville on City Council, named a street for himself. He told the Post [9 September 1908] that he didn’t think anyone would miss the former Mad Anthony Street:

“Cumminsville residents don’t appreciate history. Why, when I was in Council 15 years ago, they asked me to change the name of that street. They said they didn’t care what other name I gave it. As to naming it for myself, I lived on the street over 30 years.”

Schueler told the Post that those who objected to the change because of its historic significance (Wayne was a Revolutionary War hero.) were the “high-brows” of the ward. The high-brows must have won, because Mad Anthony Street is still there.

Price Hill objected to changing Fifth Avenue to Milwaukee Avenue, and the city relented, naming it Rosemont Avenue.

The Louisville Courier-Journal [ 13 September 1908] weighed in:

“The Cincinnati Councilmen have presumed to change the names of streets having historical significance to names of no dignity whatsoever, such as the names of local bosses, stenographers, letter carriers, janitors and Councilmen.”

The Post ran a front-page cartoon complaining that this eruption of political vanity was destined to destroy the real estate market. Some of the names were changed back or changed again, but many of Boss Cox’s henchmen are still remembered on our daily commutes.

#boss cox #Cincinnati streets #Leopold Markbreit #John Galvin #James N. Gamble

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localizee · 2 years ago

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Finding out you have a termite, flea, rodent, or other pest infestation can leave you feeling unsafe in your home or business.

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jobrxiv · 2 years ago

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Lab Manager Wayne State University @Sadagurski lab is looking for lab manager to join our team to work on #hypothalamic control of metabolism #glia biology # environment #rodents See the full job description on jobRxiv: https://jobrxiv.org/job/wayne-state-university-27778-lab-manager/?feed_id=41762 #ScienceJobs #hiring #research Detroit #UnitedStatesUS #ResearchTechnician

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gotham-city-tales-blog · 7 years ago

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Jerome Imagine: “Retirement Plan”

Prompt: “Can you write an imagine where the reader is pregnant and afraid to tell Jerome because she doesn't want to tie him down and so she starts avoiding him, thinking he wouldn't care” -by Anon

Summary: I kind of strayed buuuuut I’d like to think it’s cute. The reader is pregnant and thinks she has to leave Jerome for obvious reasons but the message is intercepted by Jeremiah who is after Jerome.

M A S T E R L I S T

This is my first shot at writing in like a year so I am very sorry it this is a little rusty ad not my best! and as a disclaimer: any messages about his being “unrealistic” will be deleted. these are characters. and i’m my writing i will manipulate them as please for a story. i understand that maybe my taste isn’t yours but then another writer may be just in your lane. i am a fluffy writer and will never write something with abuse or a horrible ending-life is depressing enough.

SPOILERS: If you don’t know who Jeremiah is you probably don’t want to read this.

Bruce Wayne fought everyday for a better tomorrow in Gotham. Selina fought to empower the systematically powerless. James Gordon wanted a city which was civilized and just. Lee only wanted to help the people. Bullock was bored but fought for his friends.

Even the worst of the worst needed a reason to live. They fought everyday too-just for different things. For The Riddler, he wanted to remain unforgotten, never again in the shadows as Ed Nygma existed. Barbara Kean, to prove her depths of her strength and never be helpless at the mercy of others again. For Penguin, to be love by a kingdom he has created.

Jerome had one too-not that anyone knew it.

You’d asked many times, feigning curiosity. But you knew deep down that you just wanted to hear it was you. Unreasonable as it may be, you wanted to be Jerome’s reason. Looking back on it now you knew it was selfish and a childish take on real love. Jerome wasn’t your reason for waking up and living everyday. As he shouldn’t be. You loved him more than anything or anyone, but you fought for yourself. Created your own life, your own path and your own strength. You lived everyday because you owed it to yourself to create a life and a purpose. And now, in your older age, that’s all you ever really wanted for Jerome too-because that’s what you want for the people you love. But you were younger then, naive and a bit egotistical-all normal for someone in their early 20′s. If only you knew what you know now.

He always said he wasn’t sure what drove him or joked that it was a part of his madness.

You knew he was lying though.

22 was a tender age. You were working part time at a small food store and spending the other working time in classes. Technically you were an adult. You paid rent by yourself. Filed your taxes and had a savings account. But that didn’t mean you were ready to be a mom.

You missed your period and were irresponsible enough to have spontaneous unprotected sex with your boyfriend. You went to the doctor and they told you that you were indeed pregnant.

When those words fell from the nurse’s lips you were actually excited. You had always wanted children and were in a loving, albeit strange, relationship with someone who thought the world of you. Jerome was the person you wanted to spend your life with and have a family with. But despite your own desires and a year long relationship, you an Jerome never really talked about having a family and kids. It certainly wasn’t the time.

Jerome was mad. He was insane. He was apathetic and controlling. But with you.. well... he was normal. A normal 24 year old. He’d sneak away to your apartment and bring you flowers that he paid for. He’d watch movies with you and hold your hand. The only trace of insanity were his scars.

To you it was insanity. But to him it was sanity.

Jerome loved having a person that remained in his life. He reveled in the continuity of your stability. When he was with the others like him and doing the unspeakable things they did, no one saw Jerome. They saw a villain, a criminal, a killer. You brought a light to his life and a relaxation.

Never before would he just sit own and watch a movie or go to the small park by the water’s edge. Before he was always on the run. Making narrow escapes and looking over his shoulder. When he started seeing you it was usually once a month in passing, quick conversations. Eventually he realized he was excited about seeing you so he started meeting you at the park an then once at your place. That was when he realized you were stupidly trusting.

But he loved you for it. You made him forget about the bad in the world. You made him feel safe and happy, you made him feel at home.

Lately he started feeling even stranger things.

He didn’t want to die during some escapade. He wanted to impress you. He wanted to come home to you and go for walks and fall asleep with you an wake up next to you. He wanted you to be his home.

He didn’t want a kingdom. He wanted you.

But now you were here.

After a long and frigid walk home from the clinic, you silently heated up a microwave meal. The television was on but it was mute. Everything seemed too loud, too bright.

Jerome may come home to you more nights than not but that didn’t mean he wanted a baby. You never even talked about marriage as a concept, let alone having children. He was a creature of the night, born out of chaos. There was no place in his life for a child and you knew that meant there would be no place for you.

It was time to release Jerome of this burden before it had a chance to fall on his shoulders. You wouldn’t ask him to give up his nature and livelihood, all he’s ever know, to raise a baby with you.

You felt trapped. You stared at your keyboard for what felt like seconds but the minutes were passing. How could you say this? How could you write it when you couldn't even say it...

The keyboard looked as though the letters were in Mandarin. Your fingers were shaking and your mind was numb. Feeling exhausted and exasperated, your breaths were shaky just like your hands. Hovering above the keys, you just couldn’t find the words.

The emotions an desires and wants and fears were all so crystal clear at the forefront of your mind, flooding you with an overwhelming warmth and love but the fears and loneliness were crashing in too. You finally knew what you wanted to say-but there was no real way to say it.

You still don’t really remember the trip to his then residence, a vacated and foreclosed apartment in the Narrows, just that you felt nothing but a great sadness. The cab ride home is similarly hazy but you remember a deep seeded relief that cushioned the blow of your feeling of loss.

The time in between was filled with clumsy venturing and fumbling as you told the cab driver to keep the meter and the engine running. Under a broken rail, through a wedged door and under a tarp, you then climbed to the second floor and walked passed the abandoned domains. Dusty doors and damp carpets lined the halls-Jerome was in 2D, the fourth one down.

The molding rugs squished beneath your shoes as you quickly ran towards the door, slipped the note under and ran back to the waiting taxi.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t Jerome on the other side of the busted door, but Jeremiah.

After two years of tracking him through his escapades and newspaper clippings alongside some gossip from low level informants, Jeremiah finally found where Jerome was living. He knew he would never be safe as long as Jerome was alive. It didn’t make sense to him that Jerome never came back after him years after their first adult encounter.

He was sitting quietly on a pile of clothes. There was no furniture aside from a lone chair which seemed as though his weight would make it buckle. So he opted for the cushioning of the ratty clothes and started at just four walls whose siding was peeling and a window which was wedged open. All of the sudden there was a quiet swoosh and a letter slid under the door. No one knocked and nothing followed so Jeremiah stood and went to the letter. It was just a paper folded in three with Jerome’s name.

Curiosity bubbling over, Jeremiah read the letter.

When he did he nearly fell over. Not only has his horrible brother had a willing girlfriend but... she was pregnant? And Jerome was the father.

Jeremiah had about three hours to process this earth shattering news and plan for when Jerome walked through the door. He used every second of those three hours. He thought about how Jerome must be manipulating you and that the baby must be cursed. Jeremiah sunk deeper and deeper into his rabbit hole thoughts: he wanted to kill you-and your baby. How could you spawn with someone like Jerome? He hated you already.

He was shaken from his pool of thoughts by a rattling from the fire escape.

Of course Jerome wouldn’t use the door.

Jeremiah slid behind a piece of siding that was separating from the wall and wielded a knife in front of his face.

Jerome’s criminal experience became apparent in his match against his brother. Within moments of his clumsy entrance through the open window he had spotted his meager twin. It took less than a minute for Jerome to both subdue his brother by bounding him to the rickety chair and take control of the carving knife.

Stepping back from his handy work, Jerome looked at Jeremiah tied to the chair. His has were secured behind him and his legs both bound to the old legs of the chair. “So to what do I owe this pleasure?” Jerome cackled.

“We need to talk.” Jeremiah deadpanned as he pulled at his ties.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome smiled wide and turned with his back facing his brother. “I’ve been busy but planned on taking care of your prying rodent self in the future, but...”

He swiveled around on his heel and peered into Jeremiah’s eyes. “I never would have imagined you’d be stupid enough to walk right in front of my gun-or knife or whatever, you get the picture.” He chuckled.

“Kill me and your girlfriend is dead.” Jeremiah spat. He may not have been criminally insane but he could be cunning. “Did you really think I’d come here alone? If I don’t walk out of here in 20 minutes one of my men who is sitting on her apartment will take care of her.” He spoke quietly but with conviction, silently thanking the universe for that unexpected bit of leverage.

Jerome looked at his twin through narrow eyes, “Touch her and I swear I will burn down everything and everyone you’ve ever come into contact with.” He growled.

“I’m not sure what she sees in you,” he sneered. “You’re a complete lunatic, you killed our mother and our father and now you’re going to kill your brother. No wonder she’s leaving you.”

“Your tricks won’t work on me.” Jerome barked in response. “There’s no way you’ve met her, you probably on’t even have anyone at her apartment. Who would work for a geeky little freak like you?” He hollered.

“It’s true. Read the note,” He nodded toward the pile of clothes, “Over there.”

Jerome leaped toward the note and scrambled to read what you’d said.

He was unreadable, a solid poker face as he stared at the type written note. You told him you loved him that you didn’t want to take away from his life. You were leaving to give him the freedom he loved. You didn’t want him to hate you. There was so much in only 7 sentences.

He quietly turned toward his brother and ripped up the note. A large smile graced his face as and he sprinkled the note at his face.

“It will be resolved.” Jerome spoke slowly and surely.

“Sure,” Jeremiah scoffed, “she’s leaving you Jerome. You’re a psychopath! She wants to protect her baby from you.” He spat.

Jerome leaped towards his subdued brother and pulled the knife up and to his throat. “Don’t you dare.” He growled lowly. “I love her and will love that baby. I’m the one that keeps her safe! She used to live in the Narrows! Do you know the people that hang around there? I saw her, we used to cross paths before she finally moved uptown!” He was screaming in his brother’s face now. “Men watching her, leering at here! One of them tried to follow her and I pulled him off! I made it go away! I KEPT HER SAFE!”

“By what? Killing people? Killing him? Did you follow her that night? Tell her you were a hero then fuck her in the stairwell-”

Jerome’s hand clamped around Jeremiah’s throat with such force the chair rocked backwards.

“I didn’t talk to her until three months after that.” Jerome whispered hoarsely, grip still tight on Jeremiah’s neck. “I respect her, she’s strong and kind. That man wanted to hurt her and would have. Maybe I’ve hurt the wrong people, but he was the right one. He was going to hurt her. If not that night, the next.” He released Jeremiah’s throat and leaned back slightly.

“Well fine, he was scum but you’re about to kill your last remaining relative. You know she’d hate you so you won’t tell her. There’s no way she could possibly love you for the real you.” Jeremiah was grasping at straws now, desperate to live, realizing he had pushed the wrong buttons. He may be cunning and manipulative but Jerome was unhinged, his tactics wouldn’t work on such an abstract mind.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Jerome laughed. But it was a genuine laugh. “She does know me, all of me and she sees passed it and believes in my potential and ability-she sees me for who I am.” He leaned back into Jeremiah’s face. “Now,” he paused, “don’t be so rash brother!” Jerome laughed, flicking his knife upward. “I must celebrate! You just delivered the greatest news of my life!” He cackled as he pushed his tied up brother back and onto the floor. “I created a family.” He spoke as he stood over Jeremiah's body.

“I got a woman who’s making an honest man-I’m sorry, father-,” he winked, “outta me. It’s your dream come true.”

Jerome knelt down and pulled his brother’s head towards his own but the short tufts of hair that sat atop his skull. “I’m gonna be a better father than anyone. And her? Shes gonna be the best mom, I know it. Shes caring and understanding.” He tightened his grip and his brother winced as Jerome’s hot breaths raped his cheeks. “She can love a psycho like me, and care for me-she’ll be the best damned mom I’ve ever seen. Our mother was a drunken whore who beat us for shits and giggles.” Jerome growled as he dropped the knife and placed both hands around Jeremiah's throat.

“But [Y/N]? Never.” His grip subconsciously loosened. “She’s light and strong and beautiful and loving. And she wants me.” Just barely gripping Jeremiah's throat he raised his brother’s ear towards his lips, “And that is very lucky for you dear brother,” he whispered closely.

With no warning Jerome dropped his brother cold onto the floor and stood up. Taking three large, tentative steps back, he folded his arms neatly behind his back. Adorning a large, sinister grin, Jerome spoke carefully, “See, I have a point to prove, therefore you are spared.”

“But make no mistake,” he hissed toward’s the helpless man still tied to a chair, “If you give me a real reason dear brother, I will take you out with no hesitation.” He bowed his head and let the silence sit for a heavy moment.

Jerome ran out through the busted door this time. Leaping with joy and hollering in the now empty nighttime streets of the Narrows. He left Jeremiah on the floor the chair was crap he’d eventually break free.

You really never expected him to come back. So when you answered your door all disheveled you really were expecting the pizza guy.

He wasted no time pulling you in for a kiss and walking you backward. At that moment you didn’t care if he was here to yell at you or only here to throw a fit, you just wanted to feel whole again. You wanted to feel him.

He pushed the door shut but held you close as he broke the kiss. Holding your hands in one hand, he brushed your cheek with the other.

“You are my freedom. My escape from insanity.” Jerome breathed. “When I’m with you nothing else matters, please, let me do this with you.” His smile was so wide you couldn’t tell the scars were there. “When I’m with you I’m free of reputation and expectations, I can just exist.”

“Really?” And that was all you could say. Tears welled in your eyes as your stomach finally felt whole again.

“Really.” He laughed lightly. “You’re my family.” He kissed your forehead as your snaked your arm around his neck.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whispered, looking up at him. “You’re gonna be a dad.” Smiling gently you pecked his lips.

“Yes, yes I am.” He chuckled. “And you’re gonna be a mom.”

“Well I have a savings account Hon, it’s time we talk about the Joker’s retirement.” You laughed as he swung you off your feet and into his arms.

“How about I get some guys we do some stuff at a bank...” He drawled on as he dropped you on your couch. “Then you and me, outta Gotham in the night ever to return.” He climbed over you and laid down on top of you. And indescribably warmth spread through your body like when you wake up and before sun rise and the first rays of sun touch your skin during the rise.

“I like that.” You giggled as he kissed your cheek.

“Yeah?” He laughed as you pulled him further into your body.

“Yeah.”

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