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monoshii-wasu · 5 years

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You Come Across the Batcave (Batfam x Reader)

Au : You’re a doll/figurine and you were sent to one of the batfam to become their helper. Dick was the one that sent you to one of the batfam as a gift but doesn’t know that you’re alive by a certain time of day. (If it sounds confusing, then you can comment me what I need to explain more on)

Warnings: Batfam or the DC universe do not belong to me. They belong to their respective creators. Other than that, there might be angst for Damian but mostly fluff. Oh and maybe like a couple of swearing.

What’s happening so far? : You either tag along, sneak along, or accidentally follow one of the batfams and you come across the batcave

Bruce :

You were using your magic to help Alfred around the house

You just saw Bruce earlier but he went somewhere

Alfred hand you a tray of tea

He asked, “Could you perhaps give this to Master Bruce? He should be in his studies.”

You nodded while walking to the room

It took awhile since your magic can’t really teleport you or make you fly around the place

All you have is your magic that could act like your hands for now

You set the tray down on the table of his studies desk

You look around and sure enough

He’s not here

You hear a beeping noise from somewhere

You walk out of the studies room and there was something strange

You hopped on a mini table with a vase

Maybe it was just your imaginat-

You lean against the vase and it slid right off

You thought you heard a crash but when you open your eyes

The vase just slid a bit and a ‘click!’ was heard

What was that about? You see a door open

You use your telepathy magic to poke it with your broom

You gulp

Hopefully Mr. Bruce isn’t actually a vampire

Or a serial killer

You hop right down into the doorway

Then, you tripped

You continue to fall down the staircase until you felt someone catching you

You swear you saw stars

After a minutes, you realize that Bruce caught you

You held your head as he asked, “How did you get in here (y/n)?”

You answered, “I was cleaning and then I uh before I knew it… I was um… here.”

Your mind was a bit fuzzy from falling down

You looked around as you asked, “Where am I?”

Bruce chuckled as he answered, “This is the bat cave.”

You thought about it a bit

Then it muttered

”How does Alfred clean all this?”

Tim

You were just sweeping Tim’s desk

Beating up those dust bunnies

Then, something started beeping

In Tim’s bag

Strange? Must be his phone

You checked where the sound is coming from and there was this weird device when you looked at it

There was a bat symbol on it

You didn’t believe it

Tim

Is...

A Batman fanboy

You gasped

No wonder he’s been busy non stop

He wants to know his senpai

Lol it can’t be that

Can it?

I mean you’ve been basically living in Tim’s room and you haven’t really been outside

But I guess that’s a for a different story

You started folding his clothes

Then you felt something

It was rubbery and felt like a suit

You pulled the outfit from the bottom of his drawer

...it was…

A red robin suit

Oh gosh...

He’s also a red robin fanboy!

Or a Red Robin cosplayer

You heard someone coming and you tripped and fell into one of the bags

You heard someone getting something and zip up

You felt yourself get lifted up

You heard someone said, “(Y/n)? Where did you go?”

It sounded like Tim

You tried to make a sound but it was muffled by the bag

Tim muttered, “They must be sleeping.”

You feel Tim moving and you decided to just… let it happen?

You were too lazy to even do anything so why not?

After a while, you heard Tim stop

You were half asleep so you heard some voices

Then you heard a ‘Riiippppp!’

You fell from below

You fell onto the hard cold floor

You looked up and you were in a cave?

Multiple scenarios went through your head

Was Tim kidnapped?

Was this a convention?

Batman/Red Robin fanboy base!?

You immediately stand up and look around

There was a few cars, a monitor, cameras, and a giant T-Rex?

Who needs a giant T-Rex in their cave?

Oh well, you stand up and noticed Tim talking to Batman?

Pfft must be a cosplayer

You walk up to Tim and Batman

You coughed loudly

They turned to you

Tim exclaimed, “(Y/n)!? What are you doing her!?”

You raised your eyebrows

“I could be saying the same thing.”

Jason :

You were using your magic to fold Jason’s clothes

Jason was in the living room, doing something

You wanted to know what he was working on but he refuse to tell you

But then his phone started to ring

You called out, “Mr. Jason! Someone’s calling you!”

He comes out from the living room and sees the phone

He picks it up and you try not to eavesdrop

Jason then cancelled the phone as he looked at you

“Time for a road trip,” he states

You were a bit unsure but you just tagged along

Jason kept looking at his motorcycle and back at you

You wondered what he was doing

Jason was actually wondering where he could put you without causing you harm

It’ll get stuffy if he placed you in his pockets

You might fall off if he placed you in his hoodie

He could put you in one of his compartments but it’s sort of filled with emergency bullets and guns and other stuff so it’s cramped in it

He grabbed his hoodie as he motion you towards him

You ask, “Where will I be sitting?”

Jason suggested, “There’s no room but you could stay in my jacket.”

You didn’t understand until he placed you in the inside pocket of his jacket

He opened a small part of his jacket so you could breathe

Your face is flushed red

You could hear his heartbeat

And you’re so close to him

“Everything okay?” He asked

You answered, “Um Yes!”

Then you heard gas being pedaled as you then felt everything moving

You could hear the rhythm of his heartbeat

It was calming

You were about to sleep until you heard Jason whisper loud enough for you to hear, “We’re here.”

Then, you guys stopped

You heard someone say, “Took you long enough!”

You could hear Jason say, “Hey! At least I’m here. I was in the middle of cleaning my safe house.”

You also heard some people give out sighs while you wondered when you were going to be let out

Jason and these people were talking for a bit until you heard someone say, “Hey Jason, I’ve been wondering. What’s that bump in your jacket.”

You could hear Jason trying to make an excuse but he immediately changed the topic. Things were getting a bit stuffy as you then lifted your head from Jason’s jacket

“Phew! Fresh air!”

You then could feel everyone just staring at you in shock

You noticed that the place that you’re at is… at a cave?

You asked them, “Is something the matter?”

Damian :

You kept hearing strange noise from the walls

You were fixing Damian’s ripped shirt but this noise was loud and clear for the whole mansion to hear

Or that’s what you thought

Where was that sound coming from?

You decided to check the whole manor

There was no other doors that could lead to where the nois-

You weren’t looking and you fell in something

You were falling for quite awhile but it was scary

Everything was dark

Then, you were met with glowing eyes

You looked around for something to hang on to

But there isn’t anything but total darkness

You looked behind you and were were met with a wall

You quickly tried to grab it, hold it, anything!

You grabbed onto it but it felt rigged

You scraped your hand while you tried to hang onto this thing

It turns out you’re in a cavern and you’re clinging to part of the ceiling

You desperately try to hang on the slippery icicle

Tears prick from your eyes

The fall would surely shatter your entire being

Your hands are shaking but you’re still clinging onto it

You see more glowing eyes

They’re staring at you

As if they’re looking in your soul

They seem to come closer and closer

IT’s a bat!

You would rather fall from this height rather than be a bat’s chewing toy

You take a deep breath

You let go of it

The bats immediately followed you

The wind felt like it was coming from different directions

But something within you snaps

You held onto the needle that you had from the start

One of the bat is slowly coming towards you

You held onto the staff tightly while taking a deep breath

Once the bat is within reach, it opened its mouth

Which you respond to kicking it on it’s chin and grabbed it’s ears

Flipped the situation the other way around

You’re on top of the bat as it screeched loudly

You whisper, “I’m sorry.”

You stabbed the bat through its head towards the end of it’s chin with the needle

Blood pours out from the bat as you see bright light

You use the bat as a launcher as you fall down

One of the bats try to reach you

You did the same thing with the bat but instead, you rip their ears off

They scream in pain as you both were met with the cold touch of metal

You regain your senses as you start to breath heavily

You hear a crack

You notice that a piece of your arm and leg are broken (or rip)

It was as if somebody was choking you the whole time

You coughed loudly as you noticed the color of your hands and clothes

It was covered in blood

Your hands are shaking

Why are you covered in blood!?

You covered your face as you cried

You muttered, “There’s something wrong with me…”

You curled yourself in a ball as you tried to remember what happen

But the only thing you could remember was falling and darkness

This new side of you scared you

You then heard someone calling out your name

“(Y/n)!? (Y/n)!? (Y/n) where are you!?”

A door seemed to slide open by itself and you see Damian

He seems to be breathing hard

As if he went to run marathon

And… a look of fear, anxiety, and… there was something that you couldn’t quite express

It was weird

You thought Damian wouldn’t have bother if you left

“(Y/n)!” Damian yells out once he spotted you

You notice that his face seems...relieve

He runs toward you but halts

He sees that you’re covered in blood

As well as the two dead bats that aren’t that too far away from you

Damian ask, “What… happened?”

You feel exhausted

You muttered loud enough for him to hear, “I don’t know... All I remember was darkness and falling. There was nobody there. Not even a single light. I was… so scared. I didn’t kno-”

Damian immediately scooped you up as he held you tightly but he’s holding you as if you could disappear from the Earth

You hear Damian whisper, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

If only that was true

You don’t feel okay

You could feel your stomach twisting and turning

Guilt is haunting you

You just close your eyes as you mutter, “I’m just tired…”

Then, sleep had taken over you

Alfred :

You were dusting some of the vases

You were behind a vase to beat the living life of the dust bunnies when Bruce comes walking out the door

“Oh! Hello Mr Wa-”

Bruce opens a door

You're a bit surprise but you trip and fall in right after him

The door is shut behind you

You try to open the door but it won't budge

Curse those electronic doors

Sadly the door doesn't have a handle

And the door is really tall

You carefully walk down the steps

You see Alfred and Bruce

“What's going on?”

Alfred and Bruce is a bit surprised at how you got in

“How did you get in?” Bruce asked

“I was saying hello, tripped, and then I ended up here.”

Alfred picks you up

“Oh look. You found out. Well, I am batman.”

You know that he's being sarcastic but you can't help but believe it

“Really!? That's so cool!”

Butler by day, superhero by night!

You can’t believe that the person you look up to is the Knight in shining armor!

If only that was true

Bruce silently laughs in the background

“No, to be honest. I'm batman (y/n). Alfred helps me when I go to Gotham and fight criminals,” Bruce confirms

You pout

“Isn't that dangerous? With your status and everything.”

Alfred sighs, “I had the same thought but once Master Bruce sets his mind on something, you can't stop him.”

Barbara :

Lately, you’ve caught Barbara leaving the house more often at night

You always ask if she has insomnia

To which she denies

Which doesn’t help that you worry about her being since you’ve been secretly watching the news channels in the family living room

And also how you knew that Gotham City isn’t the safest city

This does not help you calm down the least

Barbara has said that she needs to do overnight shifts but you already recognize her schedule so you know for sure that she is up to something

Also doesn’t help the fact that she also does this on her day off (because she’ll post ‘Day offf!!!! Gonna celebrateee!!!’ on her social media)

You were gonna follow her where she goes because you have tried talking to her countless of times but she just either makes an excuse, lie, change the topic, or just plainly ignores it

You didn’t want to resort to this but you felt like you had to

You got into her purse when it was around the time where Barbara would usually go

“Hopefully it isn’t anything bad,” you hoped

After what felt like an hour, you could hear someone say, “You made it.”

You could then hear Barbara responded, “What happened?”

Then Barbara and this mystery person to talk for what seemed like forever

You got tired of this so you decided to quietly leave the purse

When you did, you noticed that this was a cave

With a here and there of bats

The person that Barbara seemed to talk to was… Batman?

This was weird but then again, Barbara did mention that her dad has connections with Batman so this makes sense

You were about to explore more of this cave, when you felt someone pick you up by the waist with a single hand

You yelped, “Hey!”

Then, Batman and Barbara wiped around and saw you

Barbara was shocked while you had an “uh oh” face

“F*ck,” you both said

#jason todd x you #jason x reader #damian x reader #damian x y/n #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #barbara x reader #alfred and reader #alfred pennyworth #Tim Drake #tim x reader #BatFam #DC Universe #dc #dc fanfic

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ultimatepsychguide · 6 years

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Psych 1X06: Weekend Warriors (Guide)

(03:27) PINEAPPLE SIGHTING!

-Pineapple Snapple

-Snapple is a brand of tea and juice drinks.

(04:26)

LASSITER: ...But the battle at Piper’s Cove, Kentucky, 1864, is special to me. It ended Confederate Quantrill’s plot to assassinate Lincoln. And it involved my great-great-grandfather, Colonel Muscum T. Lassiter…

-William Clarke Quantrill was a Confederate guerrilla leader during the American Civil War. Quantrill's Raiders were the best-known of the pro-Confederate partisan guerrillas who fought in the War. Abraham Lincoln was the president at the time.

(04:39)

GUS: Muscum? SHAWN: What the hell is a Muscum? GUS: It was a very common name of the era. (SHAWN looks at him) History Channel. SHAWN: ESPN, Gus. Channel 206. I’m begging you.

-Gus is saying he watches the History Channel, where they play documentaries and the like based off of historical information. Shawn is suggesting ESPN, a sports network.

(04:59)

SHAWN: I don’t know. Do you have your own hoopskirt?

-A hoopskirt is a women's undergarment worn in various periods to hold the skirt extended into a fashionable shape.

(07:08)

LASSITER: You have been out there every weekend we’ve rehearsed. And don’t think I didn’t see you trying to throw M&Ms in the injured soldiers’ mouths. SHAWN: Okay, first of all, those were Skittles, and they have a rainbow of flavors.

-Two candies are referenced here: M&Ms and Skittles.

(18:35)

SHAWN: (reaches into pocket and pulls out ammunition) This is a minie ball, am I right? (tosses it at LASSITER)

LASSITER: (catches minie ball) Where did you get this? SHAWN: Your desk. Now, it’s common knowledge that minie balls cause huge gaping holes in human flesh which leads to a quandary in my dream.

-A Minie ball is a type of muzzle-loading spin-stabilized rifled musket bullet.

(19:02)

LASSITER: And this “whoever” would be… SHAWN: Engelbert Humperdinck.

-Engelbert Humperdinck is an English Pop singer.

(21:13)

SECRETARY: Mr. Guster, I know you said you didn’t want to be interrupted, but there is a Lieutenant Crunch here to see you. GUS: Crunch? SHAWN appears in the doorway in a Union soldier uniform complete with cap and long sideburns. SHAWN: Actually, I’ve been promoted. It’s Captain Crunch.

-Captain Crunch is a cereal brand.

(22:21)

SHAWN: I was thinking Glory. I was thinking Denzel. GUS: Did you just say Denzel? As in Denzel Washington?

-Glory is a 1989 American war film directed by Edward Zwick, which stars Denzel Washington, who is an American actor, director, and producer. (Season: 1 Series: 1)

(24:11)

SHAWN: Speaking of which, Griff, I’m thinking of insuring my legs. Sort of like Mary Hart.

-Mary Hart is an American television personality and was the long-running host of the syndicated gossip and entertainment round-up program Entertainment Tonight.

(24:30)

SHAWN: Does that policy include plastic explosives? (holds up metal case) 'Cause I see that you’re packing C-4. Is this authentic?

-C-4 is a common variety of plastic explosive.

(25:45)

SALLY: Personally, I think you look dashing. I always loved the marching band.

-Marching bands are known to wear uniforms similar to this style.

(25:52)

SHAWN has taken his creature comforts with him and is playing an electronic golf game while sitting on an inflatable chair. Some other soldiers are watching. He is also grilling hamburgers. SHAWN: It’s not so much me as it is Mickelson. He’s good.

-Philip Alfred Mickelson is an American professional golfer.

(26:22)

SHAWN: Captain Quantrill, he’s the guy that burned down the abolitionist town? SALLY: Lawrence, Kansas, 1863. A year later they were hell-bent on assassinating Lincoln.

-The Lawrence Massacre was the most significant event that took place in Quantrill’s guerilla career. This attack targeted Lawrence due to the town's long support of abolition and its reputation as a center for the Jayhawkers, which were free-state militia and vigilante groups known for attacking plantations in Missouri's pro-slavery western counties.

(30:00)

SHAWN: (pulls watch from pocket) You mean this watch? Hey, I needed a metal detector. Target was out of stock. And you won’t let anyone use yours, so… Hey, I found the bullet.

-Target is the second largest chain of department stores.

(30:33)

SHAWN: (as Lincoln) "Four score and seven years ago…“ GUS: Shawn! SHAWN: (as Kennedy) "Ask not what your country can do for you…” GUS: Shawn! SHAWN: (as Kennedy) "…but what you can do for…“

-Shawn is referencing Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address and Kennedy’s Inauguration Address.

(31:23)

LASSITER: Great, you found a pencil. Now we can all take the SATs.

-The SAT is a standardized test widely used for college admissions in the United States.

(31:50)

JULIET: O'Hara. Yeah. We’re on our way. (ends call)(to LASSITER) It’s a 439 in progress.

-439 means “Assist Citizen.”

(35:00)

GUS: I read the manual. Didn’t you? SHAWN: I didn’t open the manual, it was like War and Peace. There were 17 chapters.

-War and Peace is a novel by the Russian author Leo Tolstoy. It is regarded as a central work of world literature and one of Tolstoy's finest literary achievements.

(35:45)

-Fistbump! Episode: 1 Season: 2 Series: 2

(37:14)

GUS: You know that’s right.

-Catchphrase! Episode: 1 Season: 1 Series: 1

(39:19)

-Fistbump! Episode: 2 Season: 3 Series: 3

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xbacklily · 3 years

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sac a dos de tennis Pas cher

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#tennis

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chapmanmaugham · 3 years

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renecdote · 7 years

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Overindulgence

For the “nausea” square on my hurt/comfort bingo card. Thanks to the anon who suggested Dick. The idea for this hit me a few days ago but I’ve only just had a chance to write it because I had essays due. But it’s still Halloween somewhere in the world right?

Summary: Young Dick eats too much candy his first Halloween at the Manor.

Warnings for nausea and vomiting if that’s something you don’t like, but nothing graphic.

Another bowl of treats joins the plate of bat-shaped cookies on the table set up just inside the front door. Wayne Manor, Dick has learnt, is a sort of pilgrimage destination for kids on Halloween. Alfred not only buys the top quality standard Halloween candy from the store, but goes all out making homemade treats. Ghostly meringues, marshmallow witches, mini candy apples, little cakes shaped like pumpkins. There are even a few healthier alternatives but Dick’s eyes drift right over them and land on the bowl of homemade peanut butter cups.

A quick glance around shows that Alfred and Bruce are still in the bowels of the Manor preparing for the night, so Dick’s hand darts forward and quickly snatches one of the candies. Alfred has made a mountain of Halloween treats, surely they won't notice one missing. He bites into the chocolate and peanut butter creation with relish. Alfred had let him try one just after he'd made them and Dick has been craving more ever since. He's sure there must be witchcraft involved because they're so much better than the store bought ones.

“Dick!” Bruce calls from down the hall and Dick jumps away from the table guilty. He chews and swallows quickly before shouting back, “Coming!”

Bruce is taking him trick-or-treating. Somewhat reluctantly, Dick thinks, because he knows his mentor would rather be out on the streets dressed as a bat instead of walking around collecting candy in the Sherlock Holmes costume Dick had picked out for him. Although maybe he's just grumpy about it because Dick is dressed as Superman.

“Are you ready to go?” Dick asks as soon as he reaches the study where Bruce has been hiding most of the day. He bounces a few times on the balls of his feet, grinning widely, every nerve alight with eager anticipation. He’s been looking forward to Halloween all month.

Bruce looks him over with suspicious eyes and Dick reminds himself that there's no way Bruce knows he's been stealing candy from the treat table. He still finds himself holding his breath though, until Bruce grunts and says, “Yes. I was just looking over the map of where we’ll go.” Because it's Bruce so of course there's a planned route.

They start at the mansion Wayne Manor shares a border with and Dick thanks the housekeeper who dumps a handful of candy in his pumpkin-shaped bucket. A kid dressed as Robin peeks out from behind her legs and Dick gives him a toothy grin and a wink that makes him duck away shyly. There aren't many more places nearby, so once Dick has charmed extra candy out of the housekeepers at two more estates, Bruce bundles him into the car and they drive into Gotham proper. Large groups of costumed children and adults wander through the streets and Dick drags Bruce along just as eagerly.

By the time they’re back in the car headed toward the Manor, Dick has a full bucket of treats and is happily munching on a Hershey’s bar. He rifled through the rest of his hoard, making a face at the liquorice and grabbing eagerly for a mini packet of skittles.

“Don't eat all that at once,” Bruce warns him. “You'll make yourself sick.”

Dick sticks out his tongue, stained with colours from the skittles he's been eating. “I know, B, I’m not a little kid.”

Bruce “hmm”s in that way that means he's disbelieving but he doesn't push the matter. It either means he's decided to trust that Dick knows how much junk food he can eat before it makes him ill, or he assumes arguing with an eight-year-old full of sugar will be pointless.

Bruce does make sure the candy gets left downstairs when Dick is shuffled off to bed though, the hour late enough that Alfred has put his foot down on either of them going out for patrol. For once, Bruce listens to him, probably because of the quip Alfred threw in about setting a good example for impressionable young boys who need to understand that even heroes take nights off. And he does his parental duty by saying, “Brush your teeth before you go to sleep.”

Dick sticks his tongue out again but does as he's told. He rolls into bed feeling very full and happy. But as minutes pass, dragging toward an hour, and he's still awake, he begins to feel more full and less happy. His bloated stomach churns slowly as it tries to digest all the candy and chocolate Dick has filled it with tonight. Rolling over to try find a more comfortable way of lying makes it slosh and swirl, and when he cautiously rubs his stomach it gurgles unhappily.

The sweet, sticky taste of too much sugar coasts his tongue and the roof of his mouth, mingly with the minty flavour of toothpaste. Dick scrapes his teeth over his tongue in a vain attempt to get rid of the sickly combination of tastes. Maybe eating all that candy hadn't been such a good idea. He feels utterly miserable.

Dick crawls out of bed and feels his way down the hallway in the dark until he reaches Bruce’s bedroom. Bruce is a heavy sleepy and the door doesn't even squeak as it's pushed open to alert him to the child creeping into his room. When he reaches the edge of the bed, Dick just stands there a moment, wishing Bruce would just magically open his eyes and see him because he feels guilty about waking him up. But in the end he feels more sick than guilty.

“Bruce,” he whispers. One bony finger reaches out to poke the man in the shoulder. “Bruce, I don't feel good.”

Bruce grunts, still mostly asleep, and lifts the edge of the comforter so his ward can climb into the bed. Dick hesitates because he still feels really sick, but Bruce always makes him feel better after nightmares or panic attacks. Maybe his presence will help Dick forget the unhappiness of his stomach long enough to drift off and sleep off the Halloween overindulgence.

He crawls carefully between the sheets and curls up with his back to Bruce, a protective arm hugging his stomach. Bruce makes another sleepy noise, this one more like a hum, and his hand clumsily pats Dick’s neck (Dick suspects he was aiming for either his shoulder or his head) before falling back down to the space between them.

Dick lies there with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to match his breathing to Bruce’s deep, even rhythm and trick his body into falling asleep. But he keeps getting distracted by the circus act performing in his stomach, trapeze artists swinging and flipping and twirling and falling-

He sniffs. He already feels bad enough without his mind conjuring up images of That Night. Coming to Bruce was supposed to make him feel better but now Dick is just wishing his mother was here to rub his tummy the way she did whenever he got a stomach ache before.

He swallows down a sickly burp that seems to stick between his ribs. His chest feels tight and bubbly. Maybe if he burps, though, he’ll feel a bit better. He forces his muscles to relax, absently rubbing his sternum to relieve the discomfort. Instead of burping, though, he hiccups, and sour bile jumps up his throat.

Dick sits up in alarm, hand flying up to cover his mouth.

“Dick?” Bruce mumbles, awareness bleeding through the fog of sleep in response to his young ward’s distress. “Wha’s wrong?”

Dick opens his mouth say that he really doesn't feel good now, but his body beats him to it. His stomach contracts and only the hand over his mouth protects the bed covers from projectile vomit. What follows is a mad scramble to the toilet in Bruce’s en suite and a disgusting reacquaintance with all the chocolate and candy Dick had indulged in.

When his stomach has finished emptying itself, Dick collapses back against the cool porcelain of Bruce’s fancy spa bath with a grimace. “Don't say it,” he groans.

“Say what?” Bruce asks, offering him a bottle of water to rinse his mouth out. Dick accepts it gratefully and spits into the toilet bowl.

“I told you so.”

“I don't think I need to,” Bruce says. He brushes Dick’s hair back and gently wipes a damp cloth over his face. “I'm sure you’ve learnt your lesson about overindulgence.”

Dick nods, eyelids drooping as exhaustion from trick or treating and being sick catches up to him. “‘M never eating candy again,” he swears as Bruce picks him up and puts him back to bed.

His resolve lasts all of twelve hours until he wanders into the kitchen and finds his stash of remaining Halloween candy waiting for him. But this time he takes care to use moderation. And he makes sure to sneak a few pieces of liquorice down to the Bat Computer for Bruce as a thank you for looking after him and not saying ‘I told you so’.

#Dick Grayson #Bruce Wayne #Batfam #nausea #poor Dickie #Bruce is a good dad #Halloween #fic

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woodknotes · 7 years

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I'm so glad you really did pull through with the queens of bmp despite the lack of material ;~; ...if you don't mind me asking... what was your inspiration when developing the posts for this series?

Thanks anon T~T… I didn’t think I’ll be able to complete it as well… but thank goodness for the mix of canon material c/o the BMP apps, and headcanon material c/o a pinch of imagination and a spoonful of deductive reasoning.

Q of Charles: I believe that she’s the parental figure behind Matilda’s Iron Lady persona. She most likely impressed upon her the work ethic of ‘going over and beyond’ to compensate for one’s shortcomings. Remember how she memorized the entire compendium of extant rose species in Charles? I have no idea what’s the added value of that expansive knowledge in her role as the Crown Princess and Queen…but yeah ^^

Q of Philip: This is a mix of canon and headcanon material. In Hayden’s route, his father, King Alfred mentioned how much his mother suffered during her time as Crown Princess and Queen. While Wilfred’s MC isn’t my favorite from the bunch… it was quite a shock to learn what happened during the “missing 50 years”. I definitely had creative control over the latter part of the post for the sake of my feels… and some semblance of a happy closure for the Philip story arc.

Q of Altaria: Mostly headcanon due to lack of material. This was mostly hinged on the indefinite mourning period for Queen Louisa being lifted… so it’s a snippet of the joie de vivre returning in Altaria because they now have a princess/future queen who is ‘here to stay’ and won’t die anytime soon and leave another Little Button Prince sad af.. which in turn will make the rest of the kingdom lowkey sad because they love their royal family so much (okay I just made myself sad)

Q of Liberty: Mostly used canon material as reference to project what might have happened during the ‘missing 50 years’ i.e., the undercover work at an orphanage (from the Princess training route); the promise of making Liberty a conducive environment for growth and opportunities even for those who are orphaned (from the Princess sequel); patronage for Children’s welfare (from the Princess sequel); and the secret visits to a chapel during spring festivities (from the spring date sub story - arguably one of my favorite substories because can you imagine Keith Alford… praying? >u

Q of Sanct Sybil: With only a main route released by voltage for yakov chernenkov, definitely headcanon material. As for the thematic element of the post, I got some inspiration from this really cute ivan chernenkov reward video released by voltage.. with the melting snow and spring stuff.

Q of Oriens: I mostly played around with the key elements associated with Glenn and his MC (i.e., sunflower fields, flower wreaths), an ancient scroll/script, and the color gold for some reason. Maybe it has something to do with the gold details that stand out from the Royal Attire of the Oriens. It was also an attempt to deconstruct why Glenn still calls his MC ‘the Princess’ after all these years (as evident from Kuon’s main route) - so yeah the latter was mostly headcanon.

Q of Dres Van:The main thematic element from this post is a play on colorful lights, which I took inspiration from Joshua’s route in the June Bride substory (definitely my favorite substory that I replay over and over again). Instead of making references to the overused rice ball element from the Lieben story arc, I capitalized on the discrete acts of devotion initiated by Joshua such as holding a mini private wedding of some sort in a chapel because that has been a life-long dream of his MC, and the literal and figurative warm home he gave her (i.e., the log cabin) because he wants to give her anything she wants as much as he can, knowing that they will have a lifetime of battling a system that will try to take more from them. It was definitely a play on the senses, and the wealth of canon material not just from BMP1 but also BMP2. It’s up to the readers to decide what’s the context of the last paragraph - it can be a particular memory that canonically happened in the voltage routes, or it can be a snippet of an amalgam of private moments that we’ll never be privy to. :-)

You can find the completed Queens of BMP edits here

#bmp #be my princess #bmpp #be my princess party #voltage inc #woodknotes attempts to be articulate

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art-in-the-fast-lane-blog · 5 years

Text

Poetry Inspiration

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock Launch Audio in a New WindowBY

T. S. ELIOT

S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse A persona che mai tornasse al mondo, Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse. Ma percioche giammai di questo fondo Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero, Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.

Let us go then, you and I,

When the evening is spread out against the sky

Like a patient etherized upon a table;

Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,

The muttering retreats

Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels

And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:

Streets that follow like a tedious argument

Of insidious intent

To lead you to an overwhelming question ...

Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”

Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes,

The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes,

Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,

Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,

Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,

Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap,

And seeing that it was a soft October night,

Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time

For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,

Rubbing its back upon the window-panes;

There will be time, there will be time

To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;

There will be time to murder and create,

And time for all the works and days of hands

That lift and drop a question on your plate;

Time for you and time for me,

And time yet for a hundred indecisions,

And for a hundred visions and revisions,

Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go

Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time

To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”

Time to turn back and descend the stair,

With a bald spot in the middle of my hair —

(They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”)

My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,

My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin —

(They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”)

Do I dare

Disturb the universe?

In a minute there is time

For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:

Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,

I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;

I know the voices dying with a dying fall

Beneath the music from a farther room.

So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all—

The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,

And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,

When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,

Then how should I begin

To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways?

And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—

Arms that are braceleted and white and bare

(But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!)

Is it perfume from a dress

That makes me so digress?

Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.

And should I then presume?

And how should I begin?

Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets

And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes

Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows? ...

I should have been a pair of ragged claws

Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!

Smoothed by long fingers,

Asleep ... tired ... or it malingers,

Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.

Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,

Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?

But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,

Though I have seen my head (grown slightly bald) brought in upon a platter,

I am no prophet — and here’s no great matter;

I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,

And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,

And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,

After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,

Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,

Would it have been worth while,

To have bitten off the matter with a smile,

To have squeezed the universe into a ball

To roll it towards some overwhelming question,

To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,

Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—

If one, settling a pillow by her head

Should say: “That is not what I meant at all;

That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,

Would it have been worth while,

After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,

After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—

And this, and so much more?—

It is impossible to say just what I mean!

But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:

Would it have been worth while

If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,

And turning toward the window, should say:

“That is not it at all,

That is not what I meant, at all.”

No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;

Am an attendant lord, one that will do

To swell a progress, start a scene or two,

Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,

Deferential, glad to be of use,

Politic, cautious, and meticulous;

Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;

At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—

Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old ... I grow old ...

I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?

I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.

I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me.

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves

Combing the white hair of the waves blown back

When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea

By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown

Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Coming to Rome my mind has been racing with new ideas and feelings about the world and how I fit into it. My love of history both artistic and not has driven me to explore Rome wandering around and seeing all that I can see. While this has been amazing and has inspired me greatly I have had mini existential crises when gazing upon the vast history of Rome. I had never stood in the shadow of something so ancient and felt the gravity of the space in a way that I have here. Whether it is the ruins of the Roman Forum, the Arch of Constantine which symbolized the introduction of Christianity to the prior pagan civilization, a 5th century church with its original ceiling still in tact, or the renaissance palaces that unsuspectingly line the streets, the Baroque sculptures that inhabit the piazza’s, and even the remnants of the Fascist regime buildings and propaganda under Mussolini. The history here is staggering, not to mention all the incredible museums where art resides which is a whole other beast. The intense feelings and visceral reaction I have had when experiencing most of these spaces got me thinking about time and what it means. It baffles me that these places have been visited by so many people since their creation and are still standing. It might be that because we are in the history center of Rome, basically the major landmarks of ancient, medieval, renaissance, and baroque Rome are in one area, that I feel an overwhelming sense of time and space. I can’t seem to grasp how I feel because it is both positive and negative in the sense that I am completely in awe and interested in the history, but it makes me feel small. Both of these things are good because I find that it is so utterly important to know history and to understand that so much has happened and so much will happen, you are just a passerby.

Movement, time, and space are linked and have interested me in my artistic practice. After having my mini breakdowns contemplating time and what it means to move through time I decided to try and tackle this topic and my feelings through art. I have been interested in similar subjects for a while reading theory pieces by Guilles Deleuze, Jean Baudrillard, Jean Louis Boissier and literature by T.S. Eliot, Emily Dickinson, Shakespeare, and so much more. I have also been looking at artists like Xu Bing, William Kentridge, Tony Oursler, Hito Steyerl, Ryoji Ikeda, Miao Xiaochun and also so many more. These artists, their ideas, and the literature that follows has consistently been in the back of my mind, but now that I am in Rome having these feelings and experiencing these moments I want to dive into everything regarding movement, time, and space. Animation is also a perfect medium because its basis is in movement and the illusion of it. Mixing that with video and maybe even an installation would create an interesting tension and commentary on the thoughts I am formulating.

Still working on a concrete concept I have been meditating on different literature and essays regarding time and its undefinable definition. This poem from my childhood came to mind (my mom is an english major and writer so would consistently make me read Eliot) and thought it is a good starting point to begin my project in Rome. The quote, “Do I dare disturb the universe?” specifically stands out and I have begun writing more and thinking about this concept. I will keep this blog updated on what I plan on doing and thinking :)

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plusorminuscongress · 5 years

Text

Crowdsourcing Invitation: Help Tell a Civil War Soldier’s Story

Crowdsourcing Invitation: Help Tell a Civil War Soldier’s Story By Neely Tucker Published May 20, 2019 at 09:00AM

By the People, the Library’s crowdsourcing transcription project, is rallying readers to complete 500 pages from the “Civil War Soldiers: Disabled but not disheartened” campaign before Memorial Day. These were gathered by journalist and chaplain William Oland Bourne as part of a left-handed penmanship competition for Union soldiers who had lost their right hand or arm during the conflict. Here, Michelle Krowl, a historian in the Manuscript Division, writes about one of the soldiers in Bourne’s penmanship contest.

“It was a day long to be remembered by those engaged in it, and by millions of liberty loving people,” Private Alfred D. Whitehouse recalled of the first battle of Bull Run near Manassas, Virginia, on July 21, 1861. That day certainly changed Whitehouse’s life – he suffered a wound that led to the amputation of his right arm and the end of his military service.

Cover page of Alfred D. Whitehouse’s second contribution to the left-hand penmanship contest sponsored by Wm. Oland Bourne’s newspaper, The Soldier’s Friend. William Oland Bourne papers, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.

Born in 1839 in London, Whitehouse immigrated to the United States in 1849. His family settled in New York City, where Whitehouse became a sign painter. In February 1859, he enlisted in Company D, 8th Regiment New York State Militia, known as the “Washington Grays.” Upon the outbreak of the Civil War in April 1861, Company D marched south, first to Annapolis and Baltimore, then to the Kalorama section of Washington, where the men mustered in as three-month recruits. Few people on either side of the war anticipated the conflict would last longer than that. Company D soon joined General Irwin McDowell’s forces, aiming to drive Confederate forces under General P. G. T. Beauregard from Manassas Junction.

Surgeon’s certificate documenting Whitehouse’s amputation, noting that it was “3¾ inches from coracoid process.” Alfred D. Whitehouse pension file, application 290, certificate 9627, Record Group 15, National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, D.C.

On July 21, “a beautiful Sunday morning, calm, and serene, to [sic] sacred to be disturbed by the horrid din of battle,” Whitehouse remembered, Federal and Confederate forces clashed in the first major land battle of the Civil War. It resulted in the rout of the Union army. Around 3 p.m., a minie ball pierced Whitehouse’s right arm about two inches above the elbow. He was taken prisoner by the Confederates and transported to Richmond. Surgeons amputated his right arm so near the shoulder that he could not wear an artificial arm.

Following his parole in October 1861, Whitehouse returned to New York City where he was discharged for disability in November. After having given his right arm to save the Union, Whitehouse became a naturalized U.S. citizen in December 1861.

His war now over, Whitehouse secured a government pension for his war wound, married his wife Mercy, returned to sign painting and mastered left-handed penmanship. When Bourne’s The Soldier’s Friend newspaper sponsored left-hand penmanship contests in 1866 and 1867 for previously right-handed disabled veterans, Whitehouse entered both contests. His first essay, awarded a twenty-dollar prize for ornamental penmanship, recounted his military service and feelings about the war effort.

“I thank God who hath spared my life, to see Victory and Peace,” he closed his essay, “although at a terrible sacrifice.” His more ornate second entry included his photograph and poetry, the theme of one poem urging Americans to give disabled veterans “work that we can do.”

William Oland Bourne papers, Manuscript Division, Library of Congress.

Government records, city directories, and other sources document that Whitehouse continued to make a living with sign painting and civil service positions (clerk, watchman) in the New York City area. He and Mercy had six children, four of whom lived to adulthood. Mercy died in January 1919, and Alfred followed his wife of nearly fifty-four years the following month. They are buried in Green-Wood Cemetery in Brooklyn, New York.

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