#ARKHAM VERSE ¦¦ they say he lost his mind

[psymarketofobsessions]

CW: Sharp things (sorta)!!!

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And here he is! The WTSTR-verse Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter design!! (More under the cut!!)

Without his outfit!! :3

Close ups!!

Jervis was a chemistry teacher for the local college in Gotham; his wife, Alice, was the one with the Alice in Wonderland obsession. He wanted to understand her references, so he read the stories, and watched the movies with her. They had that together, and she would say that he looked like the Mad Hatter, and it would become a nickname she would call him. One day, Jervis comes home from work to find out that she's been cheating on him with his own co-worker... He lost his mind, unfortunately, and after bludgeoning them both to death with a croquette mallet he'd bought for Alice's upcoming birthday, he went missing, only reappearing to cause a mass panic in the storybook lane section of Gotham City Park. After that he's been in and out of Arkham for years...

[poisonousquinzel]

https://lady-ha-ha.tumblr.com/post/160715688748/is-that-comic-before-the-reboot-and-which-one-is

(I have not read this comic) Is this true? (if so, ivy deserves someone better).

Post

Kay, first off both of those people are Jarley shippers so take everything they say with a grain of salt and then some, cause no. that part isn't about how much Harley loves Joker and will always choose him over Ivy. Literally you can tell ops don't know what they're talking about cause her whole thing in those issues is going to kill him for years of graphic abuse but ultimately falls back with him once she’s face to face with him.

Like wow, congrats on missing the fucking point again but not surprised from people who ship her with The Fucking Joker.

also, ffs, can anyone please have basic comprehension skills and realize that Harley and Ivy are both fucked up sometimes because they’ve got issues and that’s not comparable to Joker’s long ass history of graphic and disgusting abuse.

Harley and Ivy are villains, they're not a wholesome cookie cutter, White Picket Fence, super vanilla ship with no bad moments. They're both bad guys with a fuck ton of trauma that they both have to work through, and have done so at this point. 

Gotham City Sirens was published between 2009 - 2011, Harley and Ivy weren't blatantly romantic at this point nor had they had anywhere near the development that they’ve had at this point.

Like don’t go into Harlivy content expecting them to be the perfect wlw rep with no flaws during their arcs from BTAS to current time cause that’s just not realistic. They’re both deeply flawed people who’ve got a fuck ton of trauma that they need to (and have) worked through. 

I have talked about the BTAS issues here and this post is good at explaining them too. 

X

X

Harlivy is not and has never been a purely wholesome, goody-goody ship. They’re messy, they have issues, and they have bad moments sometimes, but they both worked through their seperate trauma and came out stronger and better because at the end of the day, they care about each other. 

Harlivy has messy, toxic moments sometimes, but they’re not, and have never been, abusive. There’s a difference between unhealthy moments and a ship being abusive. 

That’s completely different to how Joker acts Constantly, because he does not care that his actions towards Harley are abusive, because he doesn’t give a shit about her. 

He enjoys hurting her. He enjoys ruining her. 

Jarley has always been intended to be written and shown as a domestically abusive relationship.

This is also the first instance where it's directly referenced that there's something more than platonic between her and Ivy, other than the reference in Batgirl Adventures. 

Gotham City Sirens is also not connected to any verses.

This didn’t happen in the timeline we’re in rn with Harley Quinn (2014)/(2016)/(2021).

Comic timelines and shit are stupid and make everything more confusing and awful and I hate it sdfjdksksdkjsd

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this is gonna be a long post since ops wanna just cut and paste random bits of the issues like jarley stans always do (cause jarley never has good moments that aren’t entirely surrounded by him abusing her) I’m going to show them in full context. *added a keep reading cause it is a lot

(All panels shown are from #15, #18, #19, #20, #21, #23, #24, #25)

So, Harley's entire thing at this point in the GCS comic in that she's been triggered by flashbacks of Joker's abuse and she breaks into Arkham with the intent to kill him.

The entire thing in these issues is showing her smarts and how she knows people's trump cards to get under their skin so she can break into Arkham. 

She’s trained to identify these things in people and she's fucking good at pushing people's buttons. 

this is also just one of my fav Harley covers so I wanted to show it jsdjksdks

“Trump cards. Everyone has one. Places where the armor we build around ourselves is weakest.” 

She’s right. And it’s now shown that Harley’s willing to use those below the belt trump cards if she has to.  

And frankly, I’d say this is worse than what she says to Ivy. And I’m not surprised she did it. She didn’t want to, she tried to get him to just open the door - 

“Don’t make me do this, Aaron. There are some secrets that should stay hidden. Things you should never learn about your own life.” 

but she’s also entirely fueled by rage and the desire to kill Joker. She came here for a reason and she’s not leaving until she’s done it.

“I’m going to kill you. For everything you’ve done to me. All the times you’ve made me feel useless and small. For all the times I will never forget. For all the things I can never forgive. All the memories -”

“Hello, Harley. I’ve missed you.” 

“Memories. That’s all I have left. The past is gone and all I have is... memories. 

Memories.

Memory. 

Gone.

I guess I too have a trump card.”

“Oh, Ivy. You know exactly what my answer is going to be. But you’re hoping you’re wrong, aren’t you?”

She’s also right about this, they already mentioned this in #18.

“How did I become the bad guy?”

“You’re the one choosing a man over her girls.”

“Are you kidding me? You would never say that to Harley, and we both know she’d dumb us in a flat second if Joker called her.”

“Hey! That’s not fair-- Actually, that’s probably true.”

“The difference is, she can’t help it. You can. And she’s working on it. You’re not working on it.” 

“Too easy, Ivy. Too easy. I know your weak spots. Now I just need to push.”

This is exactly what she’s been doing since the starting point of this post. She’s still in that mindset and she knows she can’t beat her on a regular battle field. Neither of them can. 

“Like I said-- You beat me in any level playing field. But I don’t fight on those fields.” 

Harley’s biggest strength as a villain is her ability to completely mentally stall her opponents and learn their weak spots. She wouldn’t win against the majority of the Big Bads if she didn’t fight on a different field than they are. 

so, like yeah, out of context what she says to Ivy seems awful and completely screwed up, and it is, but it’s also built up really well and it’s completely in character for her at this point in her fall during these issues. 

Is what she did fucked? absolutely. It’s not painted that it’s not. 

Ivy Literally Goes To Kill Her For It.

In the end of this all three of them are recaptured by Catwoman and Batman and that’s where we’re starting off at again. 

“Oh, Harley.

The only human I’ve ever called a friend.

To what lengths will I go? Where are my own limits? She is the Strangler fig. And I am the tree, choking underneath. 

Without me, she could never grow. 

But without her, I would fall if I grew too tall.” 

“Will she ever stand by herself? 

Will she ever be ready? 

She is in throes of madness. She sees him, her brain flooding with adrenaline, it makes her excited, nervous, then the feelings start to fade, and she needs more. And more. 

She sees it as passion. She sees it as love. 

But it’s not. It’s addiction. And she’s relapsing.” 

Ivy is well aware of the nature of their relationship. She’s not stupid and she’s been shown already to know that it’s something that takes time. It’s not a one off break up and it’s over. That’s not how abusve relationships work. 

What do I do?

I could use my pheromones to alter her brain chemistry.

I could leave her behind abandoning her to the wilds of her own mind.

I could kill her right now.

Show her how red Nature can be.

There's one other option.

It would require patience.

Even love.

Maybe I'm more human than I want to admit.

"You have one chance to answer this."

I know, if she agrees, she'll be doing it for revenge. For him.

"She put us behind bars."

But maybe if I get away from this place, if I give her something else to think about. Maybe she can break the cycle. But it has to be her choice.

"I'm going to kill her. Come with me."

So yeah, it’s definitely not a just “Harley hurts her and runs off with Joker and it’s just a plain ol’ her choosing him over everyone and that’s that.” 

Jarley shippers love to just reduce all her scenes and arcs down to their “epic love” and shit, but that’s taking away literally everything about her and reducing it down to the 3 panels that they’re “cute” in. Her arc in this part is fucking heartbreaking to read.

And Ivy damn well knows what’s going on with her. She’s smart and she’s the one that’s been there throughout all of this. She found her in the park after he shot her out of a rocket. 

And she knows it’ll take time for Harley to get over and through his manipulation, that’s just how it works with abusive relationships. 

But she’s also not forgiving at first, she’s mad and rightfully so, until she sees the sate of Harley’s cell and realizes how bad her addiction is at that time.

A lot of the unhealthy moments on Harley’s side when it comes to them are directly caused from the effects of being in an abusive relationship with Joker. Because she’s always in this area of her journey in those moments. She’s never fully over him or emancipated. 

And that’s realistic. It’s hard sometimes to be friends with someone who’s in abusive relationships like theirs, having to watch them return to that person time and time again and it’s frustrating after a while. 

I know from personal experience, it’s really hard to watch someone you care about go back or forgive someone that continues to hurt them. 

But abuse victims desperately need a support system outside of their abuser. It’s a crucial part of being able to escape, because when they do try to get out they need someone there or they’ll literally have no where to go but back into their abuser’s arms.

It’s heartbreaking and it’s really rough for everyone effected, but that’s just how it is most of the time. Especially in their case, as they’re not just regular folk dealing with this. 

If she doesn’t have Ivy, Harley has no one else to go to but Joker, on more than just an emotional level. 

She’s lost her job. Her income. Her home. Her livelihood. Her everything.

Most of the time she has no other choice but to return to a life of crime after she’s released from Arkham because she can’t get a job, she’s a notorious criminal and she’s got a lot of issues that don’t just disappear with a bit of therapy. 

She has no other choice but to return to Joker because the other alternative is the streets. At least she knows what to expect with him. 

And that’s not even getting into the manipulation, gaslighting and degrading abuse that he drills into her constantly. 

He’s made her believe she’s not anything without him. That she’s not smart or useful or anything. 

And that’s why it’s so damn important for her to have a support system and why he’s so damn against Ivy. 

Because Ivy is the good voice on her shoulder telling her he’s wrong and that she doesn’t deserve that. 

-

And on Ivy’s side, she’s aware she gets very near cutting off all parts of her humanity. 

She’s a plant goddess, she’s insanely powerful and she feels everything through the green. Frankly, she’s not even on the same playing field as these villains. She’s significanty more powerful than Harley and Joker. 

Her connection to Harley is what keeps her humanity in tack, because despite everything, she does care about her. She was the first person she let in, the first person Ivy called a friend. 

The person that was able to get through to her in #14/#15 when she was losing herself. The one that was able to get through to her that the dude was manipulating her. 

“Ivy, I know you think you love this guy... but you’re just gonna end up strapped to his rocket!”

She had to knock her out for the dude to trust her / not attack them anymore. But Harley got through to her by mentioning how they first met in the park when she saved her after Joker shot her off in a rocket.

And Ivy is understandable turned off towards humans considering her origin and trauma around that. 

She’s got a lot of trust issues.

But both of them work through their seperate traumas over the years because their affection for each other is stronger than the issues their trauma has given them.

-

and also, sometimes, they just have shit writers. that’s an issue overall in comic fandoms. Some writers just fucking suck at getting any of the characters right, let alone LGBT characters, who’re notoriously treated like garbage by DC. 

[olderthannetfic]

Do not even get me started on Wayne Family Adventures, building off that anon from a while ago.

So let me preface this by saying that I am the most tortured kind of Batman-verse fan, a Jason Todd fan. Every single issue is torture porn, so I'll be speaking on Jason Todd in WFA and more.

For those who don't know, Jason was the Robin after Dick became Nightwing, he's the stereotypical happy go lucky Robin everyone thinks of when Dick Grayson is mentioned. He was killed by the Joker and brought back some 30 ish years later (in our time not in the Batman time) as the Red Hood, the only Bat who kills. He's very angry with Batman because after Jason died, Batman used his moral justification to not kill the Joker and the Joker is still running around, breaking out of Arkham, causing chaos and torture and all the good stuff, and Batman has literally slit Jason's throat over killing the Joker.

Fun, I know

Anyway, WFA has turned the whole fiasco- which is still not resolved and probably never will be, mind you!!- into a joke. Like it's just the cherry on top after comics that already bastardized him like Batman Urban Legends. Completely turned into his fanon self, lost all of his character. Just all of it. Every single ounce of it. His death, which in the movie of Under The Red Hood graphically depicted him being beat with a crowbar with sound and everything, is turned into a joke. Not even a meme, a straight up joke. Meant for a haha not a dark humor moment. Like, "oh, you!'

For some reason he has no actual tension with the family at all even though supposedly he still kills, which literally got the shit beaten out of him in Red Hood And The Outlaws by Batman. When I say the shit I mean Batman beat him fucking bloody and then ripped the bat symbol off of Jason's chest, just so much drama and pain.

But in WFA it's never mentioned beyond again, hahaha. I do not find it funny. His entire character is reduced to the pouting pentulant child just told he can't have his ice cream. Literally all he talks about is his death except for like one episode, where another character was bastardized.

Which was Damian Wayne al Ghul. For some reason, Damian felt the need to make fun of Jason for reading Jane Austen because it is a "girl book" and it's like.... what? Like, same kid raised by Talia, who's main hero partners are two women, who's never shown any inclination to being sexist ever?

But hardy har har don't ruin the fun or whatever

--

My main annoyance with regards to Jason is that phone poll thing.

[shesquiinnsane-ar]

UPDATED BIOS;

As a precursor to this I just thought to add that both Arkham Origins and A Matter of Family have also been edited and updated. Whilst writing new bios I'm also working on editing older bios as some are probably a couple years old and full of typos I never checked. So that's happening too. All new bios will have my new icon form. I'll try and posted whenever I so update bios though so people know. And now, onto the new bio!

BATMAN NINJA;

This verse will typically be used for any anime/manga characters that Harley may interact with as well as those who simply just wish to explore it. Please note that Batman Ninja is a mash of ideas from the Japan studios. There are lots of anime tropes and plot points that need to be simply taken for granted. 

Gorilla Grodd used a Quake Engine in Arkham Asylum to send everyone back to Feudal Japan, causing a small distraction that landed Batman in that world two years later.. Two years in the making and Gotham’s villains were taking over as Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, Deathstroke, and the Joker with Harley alongside, where all the Lord’s of their state. The Joker and Harley were considered to be the closest to uniting the kingdom to be the one true King of Japan, the Joker was known to be labeling himself as the Demon King. 

The pair first bump into Batman, using Harley disguised as the Joker to tease him as they realize he is now in Feudal Japan. This distraction allowed Joker to engage Batman in a fight, asking Batman to call him Lord Joker as he was believed to be the most powerful man in Japan. After changing into her outfit she met up with the Joker and the Batman after he finished throwing razor-edged fans. To keep the Joker occupied, she poured him a drink so they could instead watch Batman against seven of the Joker’s samurai warriors. As Batman and the warriors fought, Harley asked if they should follow, to which the Joker just sighed with his drink, asking her to simply enjoy the moonlight as they had all the time in the world.

Batman subsequently joined forces with Catwoman as he learned that the secret to going home was in Grodd’s time machine, currently owned by the Joker in his temple. He then learned Catwoman was lucky enough to find Alfred, who was in the Batmobile, and had been maintaining it as best he could for the occasion when Batman was to return. The loud motor roared down the street straight to the temple which Harley overheard, rushing to the Joker to inform him. Pushing open the doors of the temple she shouted at the top of her lungs that Batman was coming. She dropped her knees in front of Joker as she told Joker that Batman was coming in the Batmobile. Trying to demonstrate her point, using a puppet show she told Joker that the Batmobile had passed their gunmen and the canons that were in place to try and hold him back. Then Batman was always so clever with his technology, but Joker believed he was nothing without the Batmobile. Joker demanded Harley activated ‘Arkham Castle’. At first, she protested, after all the castle wasn’t even finished yet, but it had been made for Batman so there wasn’t any time like now to use it. She agreed, and after licking her lips, she clapped with a giggle. Behind the doors that had opened to her command was a piece of the Quake Engine that had been lost to Gorilla Grodd. 

With the castle activated, the temple started to rise out of the ground, as Batman was seen approaching the building. It seemed to transform into a mechanically charged robot in the form of the temple. Batman labeled it a form of madness as the left arm of the mech readied a set of giant throwing stars. Each one was thrown at the road in an attempt to stop Batman from reaching them. The three throwing stars narrowly missed the Batmobile as Batman blew up the gate with a rocket launcher extension to the Batmobile. He was storming the gates and the mech tried to squish Batman in the Batmobile as it plucked it from the ground. The Batman escaped, dropping from the wreckage with part of the car that converted into the Batjet. To Joker though, it was a persistent yet predictable move. With Batman locked on the top floor of Arkham Castle, he was trapped by two prongs, the wings severed on the Batjet, leaving Batman in mid-air. That wasn’t the only trick Batman could pull, however, as dropping the wings converted the Batjet into a Batcycle, a motorbike he used to drive along the arm of the fortress straight into the top room. 

Harley had fled from the floor to drop a trap on Batman. As the right hand of the fortress came crashing down to the ground Batman had to choose; save a woman and child down below, or finally get the Joker. Batman used the cycle to try and crash to the ground ahead of the hand and managed to fight off Bane to save the poor woman. The woman, however, was no more than Harley Quinn and her mallet. With Batman narrowly escaping being crushed to death she had time to perfectly line up her shot before her mallet hit in straight in the face and sent him flying across the floor. Using a giant slide to get out from the tower, the Joker joined Harley on the ground as they were both laughing. Harley noted that it was typical Bats, as he always fell for the same tricks. Joker continued to taunt Batman, as Harley and a few of his armed guards surrounded the Batman. Joker could only wonder what Batman had in store for a second act as he’d destroyed all of his toys now and there were no friends here to save him. A short and worried shout from Harley seemed to change the tides, however, as she pointed behind the Joker and tried to get his attention. Behind him, a huge colony of Bats seemed to fly toward them. During the flurry, Harley tried her best to swat them away with her mallet but it didn’t seem to do anything. The bats aided the arrival of what Harley could only describe as Ninja Batmen. As quickly as they appeared, they disappeared, taking the Batman with them, and leaving Harley and Joker confused.

On a handmade ship, made in the vision of the Joker, Harley and Joker met with Gorilla Grodd. They stood within the bird’s nest to see as far as they could in case anyone should sneak upon them. Joker told Grodd that he wouldn’t kill him if he handed over the Batman and wanted to see where he was. He quickly made himself known as floatation devices were set up in the water which from the Joker’s viewpoint looked like people. Batman told him he was surrounded but this wasn’t going to over that quickly. With a laugh, Joker admitted that he was surrounded as his samurai warriors appeared firing at sticks of bamboo in the water. Harley came tumbling, laughing as she was firing her gun at whatever she could, hoping to hit a few people on the way down. Then she opted to throw a bomb into the waters, which she knew would cause more damage. Batman seemed to shout out ‘no’ but as Harley hit the deck she laughed, what else was he expecting? They knew he’d have men hiding in the water. As she joined Joker, who opened fire on Batman, Batman told them that maybe he would another time, but right now he had a trick up his sleeve. The tiny boat that Batman and Grodd had arrived on rose up to expose a huge underground deck. Despite looking confused at first, the pair still laughed and Joker claimed they were still doomed, opening firing on them again. 

The boat nudged forward, rocking Harley and Joker off balance as the hull of Batman’s ship opened as the Batman Ninja Clan and members of the Batman Family started to attack. Harley was confused, as they’d already killed them all, but the people in the waters were simple decoys to distract them from this new attack. As Harley put the pieces together Catwoman reached out to attack her and the pair started to fight. When swinging her mallet failed to land a hit, Harley took out her gun trying to aim for the Cat, who seemingly didn’t want to be put down. As she continued to fire, Harley was recklessly splintering the boat’s woodwork. She laughed until her bullets ran out which was when Catwoman proceeded to fight back, backflipping over Harley to kick her across her face. 

Soon enough the fight was over, and Gorilla Grodd siding with Batman in the hopes of gaining an advantage. Harley and Joker were subsequently tied together around the mast of one of their sails. Batman was happy to disappoint Joker by stooping ‘that low’ and siding with Grodd. But if Grodd had turned on the Joker, then Grodd would also turn against Batman. Joker didn’t have a chance to say anymore as he had been gagged alongside Harley. In Feudal Japan, trust meant nothing as Grodd used his mind control in an attempt to control everyone on board the ship. Or at least he tried to as the Bat Clan had mastered their bodies and their minds and could not be under the influence of Grodd’s mind control. Now everyone had to prepare to be annihilated by Two-Face as bombs destroyed the Joker’s ship. With the boat in flames, they had the chance to escape from their chains and climb back up to the bird’s nest with a barrel containing explosives. The pair laughed, as Joker told Batman he’d see him in hell before Harley lit the fuse and sent the explosive to the deck. After all only Joker could kill the Batman, he couldn’t forgive himself if anyone else had done it. The explosion destroyed the boat and bats left the flaming embers. Supposedly ending the battle.

There were no signs of Joker or Harley after the explosion. Some believed them to be dead or simply gone. In the fields away from the villages a couple had been found. The male donned green hair, the female, blonde. They had seemingly spent years on a field that didn’t seem to grow any crops. A male in a red helmet, Red Hood, was taken for a monk who was traveling through the region and he asked the couple for a glass of water. The green-haired man happily agreed as the blonde woman walked past him to sort out this water. She commented that the traveler must be exhausted as it was a rather hot day after all. As she leaned over the pot to fill his bowl with water the traveler grabbed the blonde, causing her to cry out, telling her to ‘break it’. Helpless, her man told him to stop, as he genuinely had no idea what was going on and why someone would go out of their way to attack his wife. He was threatening for the blonde to show her true face, or else he’d break her arm.

This traveling monk knew the Joker was alive when everyone else had said he was dead but there was a confusion to his face no one could fake. He questioned why the man was insistent on calling him Joker. Kicking the blonde to the floor Red Hood grew more irritated. The green-haired man ran over to his darling feeling threatened and scared. He even questioned the male’s sanity, as none of the situations made any sense. Supposedly that insinuated the man in the red helmet was stupid, as he was expected to believe that the Joker had taken up farming. Harley covered her eyes whimpering as the pair received a beating from the visiting male. They didn’t understand, their confusion was genuine. As he was assaulted the male continued to deny the allegations, and he dropped to his knees as a bamboo barrel was pointed at his head. Gunfire went off but just scraped past the male’s head as they were rescued by a man in a Bat costume. Supposedly they were both here for the same reason, as reports of foreign farmers in the area matched the descriptions of Harley and the Joker had been found but the couple genuinely didn’t remember anything of their past. They had come to Japan to live a peaceful life and had spent time plowing the fields. 

As the danger seemed to pass the blonde woman had gotten straight back to work when a miracle appeared before her eyes. It seemed like the pair had waited forever for this moment. She shouted for her honey to come and join her, her voice filled with excitement as there was finally a sprout in their fields. They laughed and embraced as finally, they had gotten somewhere, the blonde calling the green male her puddin’ as they toppled to the floor. Batman had concluded that the couple had at one point been Joker and Harley Quinn but had lost their memories to a point where they were no longer a threat. He promised to keep an eye on them and to take them back when the Quake Engine was fully operational but for now, they were harmless and they just had to let the couple be. Things were not quite so simple, however, as the travelers left the couple laughing their euphoria. The sprout that had finally grown was blowing pollen across the field, and over the couple kneeling next to it. This pollen had been created as a trigger to the couple’s memories. The seemingly harmless duo would now once again become the Joker and Harley Quinn as their memories were restored.

A month later, the Joker and Harley Quinn were ready to make their come back. The Feudal Lords; Two-Face, Penguin, Poison Ivy, and Deathstroke were all manipulated by Gorilla Grodd to develop a mechanical structure each which was far beyond the technologies of Japan at the time. Grodd had been setting up the battlefield to take over and become the one Lord of Japan. As the mechs joined together to become one, the party-crashers made their entrance. No one had known that Joker and Harley had regained their status and now they were ready to make a comeback. Throwing a laughing bomb into the hub of Grodd’s machine, a form of knock out gas was sprayed around the room affecting Grodd and Catwoman who was in the hold at the time. Other identical bombs seemed to explode through the mech as floating above in a hot air balloon donning the Joker’s smile was Harley Quinn and the Joker laughing hysterically and spinning around as they declared themselves back! It was out with the old and in with the new as more bombs were dropped on the battlefield as Harley made sure they knew that there were no exchanges or returns. The color bombs covered the mech as Batgliders identified the couple. Batman couldn’t believe it to be true but Joker greeted him as there was no way you could keep a crazy man down. 

The hot balloon crashed through the roof of Grodd’s castle, the same one that had previously been owned by Joker and Harley themselves. he didn’t want to be too late to the party but it seemed he had come at exactly the right time. As Catwoman glared Joker down, she was pushed to the floor as Harley stood on her, whilst wearing a jester hat that mimicked her modern-day attire. She grinned and waved at the pretty kitty. Grodd had taken them by surprise back at the lake in which their ship sank but now it was time for payback. The flower that had triggered their memories, wasn’t too potent yet but Harley admitted that they were thinking of increasing the dosage. The plant had been one Harley had previously taken from Ivy who had the best plants. As the plant seemingly paralyzed Grodd, Harley kicked Catwoman over to join Grodd on the floor before wielding her mallet and taking her place at the Joker’s side with a giggle. Now it was a turn of events Joker intended to take over Grodd’s plan and ejected Grodd and Catwoman from the castle as they were pushed down the slide and sent falling downwards. They were caught by the Bat Clan and carried carefully to the ground as Joker took the central seat and Grodd’s tools to play a few mind games using the mech he had developed.

Activating the full transition, the mechs assembled again. This time, however, the transition seemed more fluid as each of the villains controlled a part of the mech, with Joker’s hot air balloon forming the structure's head. Now they were all serving Lord Joker to take over, and the contraption was better than anything the Joker himself could have created. Chaos ensued as the Bat Clan struggled to withstand the force of the mech and the power it had. He had attacked Gorilla Grodd, injuring him badly. Despite being saved from death, however, there was no telling of his injuries. In return for the said Grodd gave Batman his commanding flute which summoned many monkeys to help the Bat Clan defeat the fortress the Joker was in control of. The monkeys formed a giant structure, a samurai monkey to take down the mechs. In one punch the mech was sent to his needs, which was unexpected but the structure did pick itself back up. 

As the Joker controlled the head of the structure, Harley was left to control the main body. Joker suggested cutting down on the monkey business by greeting the guests with a warm kiss. Pushing down on one of her levers, activated a huge central flame thrower but the monkeys seemingly withstood the heat as only their armor was damaged. The flurry of bats at the Bat Clan’s disposal doused the flames as the bats now enclosed the monkey samurai to take on the form of a giant Batman. Harley pushed down on the lever again, at the command of the Joker, as he told the Batman figure to feast on the fire of hell. The flames had no effect on Batman and with a single punch pushed straight through into the head, destroying the Joker's hub and freezing the machine. Batman opted to take Joker alone as each hero took on their villain to destroy the mech section by section. For Harley, this meant facing Catwoman who had in her opinion, chosen the wrong side to play with. In Catwoman’s mind, Harley needed a good ass-kicking after their previous encounter. 

As Harley intended to go and help Joker, Catwoman almost whipped her mallet straight out of her hands but Harley bashed it out of the way just in time with a little giggle. Catwoman declared it was time for some girl on girl action as the two began to fight. Harley laughed her way through the hits even jumping with intentions of smashing the cat to the floor. As she looked, Catwoman had disappeared but she smirked, throwing her mallet to her left and striking the feline. Trapping her in her grip, using the mallet to help, Harley told the pretty kitty to take her medicine and say goodnight, before licking the woman’s cheek. 

It all seemed to be going well but the monkey army had split, tackling the structure individually to slowly tear it apart piece by piece. As Harley held her grip on Catwoman a shudder throughout the building had caused her to slip, and Catwoman freed herself taking advantage by kicking the jester squarely in the face as she crashed into the wall. Resting her back against the wall Harley tried to catch her breath as she’d been winded by the motions as Catwoman tightly gripped her costume, pulling Harley up by her collar. Catwoman told Harley to keep her tongue to herself as she threw the Jester into the main system causing it to explode and completely crash which was where the Jester remained. Out cold, and hopefully not burnt.

After the fight, the Quake Engine was restored, presumably returning all of the Gotham residents to the present day. 

[scandalsavagefanfic]

Slade/Jay Arkham Knight Smut?! (I love the whole arkham Knight Universe) If not maybe Ra's/Jay Arkham knight things If the first doesn't click. (you've dragged me into Ra's/Jay with your amazing fics and wonderful soulmate stories)

Congratulations! 

You’re my first ask for the celebration!

I have no idea what Ra’s is up to in the Arkham universe and I’ve written so much of him lately (super thrilled I’ve pulled you into Ra’sJay and thank you for the compliment!) so I went with Slade :D

Note for future asks: If you can, please include a prompt. Otherwise you’re gambling that I’ll be able to think of something. It paid off here because I’ve been thinking about the Arkham verse a lot this week ;)  You are still welcome to send promptless pairings if you can’t think of anything but it may be harder for me to fill the request.  

200 Followers Celebratory Prompt-A-Thon!

Follow link for options and guidelines!

ArkhamKnight!Jason/Slade

Words: 700 (I was planing on keeping these to 500… off to a great start on controlling myself).

Rating: Explicit… dark themes (consensual non-consent is what I think it’s called… the sex here IS 100% consensual) mentions of past object insertion and gun play.

“Ah—jesus, Slade… what the—what the fuck are you doing?”

“Shut up,” the mercenary growls, twisting his fingers to jabat Jason’s prostate harshly, drawing out a pleasured yelp, “You know the dealwhen you come to me.”

He’s got the kid sprawled out beneath him, blindfolded, eachelbow tied tightly to the corresponding knee, blunt nails scratching at thecold metal of the Cobra tank Slade’s just unveiled.  

He takes a moment, again, just like every previous time, tomarvel at the psychology behind this boy enjoying being pinned down, tied up, andfucked brutally while powerless and served on a platter. He’s seen the videoevidence of the torture the Joker put him through, coaxed more out of Jason inthe year since than the kid is probably comfortable with, and suspects there’smore he’ll never say.

Ok, ‘enjoying’ may not be the right word. More than onceSlade’s seen the tears Jason tries to hide and knows they’re not for the present,knows they’re not shed in any physical pain or desire to stop the encounter. Buthe also knows that they’re not tears of joy or bliss.

And ‘powerless’ is definitely the wrong word. Jason paysgood money and, when paid, Slade’s loyalty is absolute until the contract isfulfilled. The kid is an A+ employer, even without the bonus deal, always pays upfront, on time, and in full. In some ways, that transaction makes him the onlyperson the broken bird trusts. The whole reason they have a safe word isbecause the first time Jason said ‘stop’ Slade had done so immediately… to theyounger man’s abject frustration (and embarrassment). So the boy isn’t powerless. All he has to say is ‘Sherlock’and Deathstroke will back off.

He’s never said it. Not when Slade shoved the hilt of his swordinto him. Not when he made the kid blow his gun. Not once.

Slade knows that what Jason gets out of this is notsomething he can understand. He’s never been laid low the same way the ex-Robinhas, never had everything stolen fromhim, never been forced into anything, never had his mind fucked with. He doesn’tknow how he would react if it ever happened, how he’d handle it. But he doubtsit’d be in a way anyone would consider healthy.

So when Jason comes to him, needs this from him, the deal isSlade uses him like a toy, however he wants, as long as Jason feels like he’s beingforced to take it.

But Slade’s not, by nature, the type of cruel that peopleseem to believe of him. He won’t pretend he doesn’t enjoy this. The flushedbody laid out for him like a gift, muscles chiseled from marble glistening withsweat from exertion, the bruises left by his fingers and the ropes.

However, he feels the urge, occasionally, rarely, to fix hisbroken toy.

So he’s been slowly working up to this. Jason’s stillgetting what he needs. He’s still ‘helpless’ and at Slade’s mercy. But unlike theirpast trysts which were rough and violent and cold, Slade is taking his time.

He’s been fingering the kid’s tight, pink hole for tenminutes, poking and rubbing at that sensitive little gland, adding more andmore lube making him wet and sloppy, occasionally rolling his balls in his freehand or stroking the delicate length of skin of Jason’s taint, watching thefurled rim stretch open as his fingers disappear inside him and spread wide.

And now the big, bad Arkham Knight is trembling underDeathstroke’s meticulous attentions, gasping and moaning prettier than any whore.

Slade feels a harsh swell of possessiveness and he realizesthat he’d have this kid’s back (in both senses) even if he didn’t pay him.

He pulls his fingers out when Jason comes with a shout. He pressesin, watching as his cock is swallowed hungrily by the slick heat of that enticinghole, shiny and dripping lube. Then he starts a slow, languid pace, fuckinginto the lost Robin as deep as he can get.

Not that he’ll ever tellJason that he can get Deathstroke’s services for free, of course.

[stagekiller]

@crimescupid || Meme ||  accepting  ( 2 / 5 )

-BREATHES- GIVE ME THAT CHAOTIC COUPLE SHIP. That Harley and Jerome content 👌👌   

How did they they meet? Harley moved into Haly’s when she was 14. Their first meeting ( which is in a thread that I couldn’t find somewhere ) consisted of her approaching carrot cake and asking for help with something ( she was bored ) The two of them hit it off p fast from there tbh

Who developed romantic feelings first? I’d say the timing was pretty much mutual.

Who is their biggest “shipper?” In their world, pretty much nobody ships them let’s be real. Everyone warns Harley to stay away and I can’t blame them honestly. But little do they know that she’s just as horrible When they’re older, they’re known as Akrham’s poster couple but I don’t think that means people ship them.

When did they have their first kiss and under what circumstances? I don’t think we’ve written or discussed their first kiss, but I’m willing to bet it happened amidst bantering. They have this habit of challenging each other to everything so I feel like it was probably a moment of mutual pining where one of them indirectly challenged the other to do it.

Who confessed their feelings first? I think it was Harley but I’m so bad at keeping track of all our threeeads

What was their first official date? I think their first date on threads was in that one bridge thread we had, you know the one. But technically even their first meeting was lowkey a date.

How do they feel about double dates/group dates?  I wouldn’t say they mind them but they can be very annoying AND disgusting to hang around. Jerome would prefer double dates if there was a scheming context or something to gain from them, however, as he finds the premise of just hanging out a bit dull.

What do they do in their down time? Bicker, indulge each other’s worst qualities, blow things up, blow each other, traumatize people, test Jimbo Gordon’s patience, make fun of Harvey Bullock’s beard, pester their couple therapist, threaten Arkham’s boards, host game shows together, play UNO, cheat at UNO, bicker again, make up, clown around, etc etc

What was the first meeting of parents as an official couple like? Needless to say Joe & Vivian weren’t that fond of Jerome at first. Vivian was easy to sway but Joey never trusted him and was probably right not to. As for the other way around, Jerome never officially introduced Harley to Lila, neither was Lila aware that they were dating for so long. She knew Jerome had flings and didn’t really care about his personal life. If Harley and Lila had met, it would have been a coincidence around the circus camp and not a formal introduction. As for his Uncle, Zach, up to the point he left the circus to open his own diner in Gotham, he must have seen Harley around and probably commented that she’s a nice piece in a very sleazy fashion, but that’s about it.

What was their first fight over and how did they get past it? Their first fight must have been after a jealous fit over Grayson from Jerome. At least that’s the first one we have recorded on threads. They didn’t really ‘get past it’ ,as  in, solve anything. As most of their fights, it was just an intense yelling moment, then silent treatment, then one of them got over it first, stopped sulking and approached the other to reconcile.

Which one is more easily made jealous? BOTH ARE HORRIBLE,WE KNOW THIS

What is their favourite thing to get to eat? JUNK FOOD because they’re both horrible like that. They share a mutual passion for candy so catching the two of them sharing a bag of marshmallows isn’t an unusual sight. If you’re lucky, they won’t be feeding each other too because that can get awkward real fast.

Who’s the cuddly one? What their favorite cuddling position? Harley is more openly cuddly and will initiate them most of the time. That’s not to say Jerome isn’t, though. He often snuggles up to her in bed and enjoys resting his head in her lap and having her stroke his hair.

Are they hand holders? In their baby verse they’d often hold hands when out together and sometimes swing them, especially on the walk back to the circus camp after their ‘adventures’ ( destroying public property and traumatizing people ) In their older verse it’s a bit more rare but it’s not unusual to see them holding hands & swinging them while watching an explosion together.

How long do they wait before sleeping together for the first time? What’s the circumstances? Again, we haven’t discussed or threaded about this, but, knowing them, it probably didn’t take them long to get there. I don’t think it was something special, but I do think it was spontaneous and they hadn’t planned it out. It probably happened in public, maybe while they were stargazing by the river or behind Harley’s RV. They’d have probably been in their late teens by then, with Jerome being more experienced in the matters, so I feel like, while it was definitely not something out of a movie, it may have been one of their most genuine/softest moments together.

Who tops? Pre-death it was most often carrot cake but post-death he discovered his inner power bottom so Harley takes the reigns sometimes nowadays. And by takes the reigns I mean she beats THE LIFE out of him <3

What’s the worst first they’ve ever gotten into?  Okay, hear me out. It was probably the FIRST time Jerome died. At the time, Harley and him had squabbled over Galavan’s intentions, with Harley trying to warn him that something was too sweet to be true and Jerome taking this as a ‘you don’t believe in me’. When Jerome got stabbed on live TV, Harley was locked in Arkham with nothing she could do about it and watched the whole thing. Jerome probably thought about her words in his final moments with a smile, because he found it so tragicomic. The energy there is hecking painful.

Who does the shopping and the cooking? In most verses they don’t lead a very average, day to day, normal kinda couple life so I’d say neither. In their runaway AU verse, Harley shops and Jerome cooks ( because Harley is an awful cook, you didn’t hear it from me )

Which one is more organized and prone to tidiness? Definitely Harley. She CAN be organized while Jerome has just no concept of tidiness.

Who proposes? Hear me out. Both at the same time and then they start bickering about who proposed first and end up cancelling the wedding ... but make up and throw an impromptu ceremony ( shotgun wedding ) last minute anyway.

Do they have joined Bachelor/Bacheloette parties or separate? Unfortunately, because it was such a last minute decision and they were both drunk off their minds, they didn’t get to have a party. But, when they sobered up they did realize their mistake. There’s still an ongoing debate as to whether having one now would be considered cheating or not.

Who is the best man/maid of honor? Any other groomsmen or bridesmaids? Jerome had several groomsmen, of which only Mr. Mime came out relatively unscathed. The others were so astounded by the glamor of their ceremony that they lost their heads. ( he duct-taped a few back on  though )

Big Ceremony or Small? The couple whose special day they robbed apparently had plenty of friends invited, so it was quite a big ceremony. It was also displayed on next morning’s news reports, so it was pretty big, yes. Fantabulous.

Do they have a honeymoon? If so, where?  We have yet to progress that thread but I would say that if they do end up going on honeymoon it will probably be some tropical island that gets literally obliterated while they’re there. A world-wide tragedy.

Do they have children? How many? If you count Bud, Lou and Mr. Mime, then they have two hyenas and a mime. Jerome to this day refuses to count Harley’s pet pig as a kid because he says it’s ‘walking bacon’

[coolgirl]

Fic recs masterpost

ok so i used to have a lot of fics masterposts on my old blog and people keep asking for recs + i wont be able to upddate them or anything anymore so i decided to just move them all to this blog

under the cut: AUS / arkham knight / jaykyle / jayroy / robin!jason / gen / angst fics 

*: last added (april 4) //   for some reason the links arent working so go to jasontodd.tumblr.com/ficrecs for the links, sorry!

AUS

The Virtue of Revenge | young justice au with jason as red x making his own team with roy, starfire, raven, and others. i love it, even if it has shaky moments and stuff pls give it a chance.

crystal silence creeping down | young justice/lost days au

Flicker from View | another young justice au

Live to Rise | yes. you guessed it. young justice au.

Collide &  Convergence | au where post crisis jason goes to the young justice universe

The Changeling Sequence | series where jason meets damian before he went to gotham. The last part is a wip that i doubt will ever get updated again, so uh be careful. read only the first or second part and forget about the third.

The Drag of Fate | au where jason is lady shiva’s son as well. Part of a series, which i also highly recommend but idk if they would be au as well

heavy on the heart | another jason and cass are bio siblings. A+.

Didymous | cass and jason are twins.

repairing the world | i dont know how to explain this series.. its an au and really really good. Jason doesn’t appear in all the pieces.

just go  | jayroy, wings au

In the Shadows (of Who We Used to Be) | jayroy, black widow & hawkeye au

The Family (or how Jason Todd was adopted by the Avengers) | marvel crossover

bad boys bad boys (whatcha gonna dooo) ♫ | jason is damian’s batman. iconic fic imo.

Rise (And Try Not to Fall) | star wars au

A Bird in Morning | bruce finds jason when he’s at the hospital after crawling out of his grave

Moment Between | ghost jason & ghost martha and thomas wayne

We’re not in Crime Alley Anymore | au where jason was younger when bruce took him (and he didnt become robin)

Perhaps The World Ends Here | marvel crossover, future jaykyle

Batten Down the Hatches | a few different aus here. young justice + helena wayne

My Brother's Keeper | jason & damian knew each other from before + damian arrives to gotham just for jason

When the Moon Found the Sun | main story is clark/bruce but it’s preetty cute. soulmates au.

Between the Light and the Dark* | damian & jason uuhm i cant remember what this one was about per se bc im reading like 5487 similar fics but yeah

Two Dead Birds  | time travel stuff

Red Blood, Blue Blood | jason (and the rest of the batkids) are bruce’s biological kids, yeah i wasnt a big fan of the premise at first either but its gud

Rebirth | talia & jason, mind the warnings

you belong among the wildflowers | kate n renee adopt jason instead of bruce

We're the warriors of tomorrow |  Cass, Jason and Damian meet while with the League of Shadows

Can You Hear Me?  | ghost jason

to death's other kingdom I will not go  | bruce makes it on time au

The Ties That Bind  |  The pit restores Jason's body but not his mind, Ra's makes him one of his assassins and Talia adopts him as her own.

death’s outlet song of life* | the gordons find jason before the events of lost days

reflections on shattered mirrors.* | talia & jason stuff

Come Alive* | young justice s3 based

A Path Upon The Ground* | au from lost days, eddie and jason meet again

ARKHAM VERSE

If He Had Come & the sequel  Desiderium | au where bruce rescued jason before he could become the arkham knight.

the roads we know

this gun needs no bullets

JASON & BRUCE CENTRIC (not romantic)

Quack | this one is so crackish but so so cute i love it, robin jason

If He Had Come & sequel Desiderium  | arkham knight verse and its so good and has a lot of bruce & jason feels

Neverland /  Keep Lying To Me | deaged/ little jason from another universe.. sad and cute

Icarus and Bubble Gum | fluff, robin jason

Knock On Death’s Door | bit of both but not so so so angst, red hood jason

dead and dying things | au

In Memoriam | angst, trying to fix their relationship, red hood jason

If the Fates Allow | angst, red hood jason

The D-Word | fluff kind of.. red hood jason

This Place We Built With Grace and Guilt | angst angst angst, red hood jason

I Love You | robin jason, fluff

Wayward Birds | fluff and angst, robin jason

yesterday’s gone, yeah it went away (i’ve been lost but i’m here today) | another trying to fix their relationship fic, its cute and sad

We’re not in Crime Alley Anymore | au where jason was younger when bruce took him (and he didnt become robin)

Little Absences | sad, robin & red hood

Schrödinger's Honest Man | sad, drugs tw, absolute fave

White Christmas | bruce & robin!jason

Frozen History | de-age

Stargazer | jason n bruce patching their relationship.. its iconic

Unconventional Family Reunions | bvs setting

Prompt: Trapped | mind the warnings

Safe In My Arms 

The Failures of Reverse Engineering  | ghhm not really bruce & jason maybe?

to death's other kingdom I will not go | bruce saves jason au

points of impact  | glass case get fucked

is it my fault? (we've been missing each other)*

waiting for you. *

The Little Things*

World's Finest* | my uwus my uwus have fallen everywhere

JAYKYLE (all iconic)

In Which Kyle Confesses The Same Thing Six Times

milk and honey

Batman vs Space Bureaucracy

deadlock

attention to detail

tempest in a teapot

violet tendencies

no love, no glory (no hero in his skies)

keep the door open for me

waffles and war 

The Art of Subtlety (jason lives au)

Perhaps The World Ends Here | marvel crossover, future jaykyle

Riding in Batcars with Boys

boy, you fill my lungs with sweetness

no chance, no way, i won't say it (no, no)  

a change in the atmosphere

invitation to commitment

Overexposed 

i deserve that, don't i, some sort of blazing love that i can live with 

i won't say 

The water is always warmest at dawn

JAYROY (all iconic too)

sleepless 

Countdown

just go (wings au)

Unspoken

(for thy love is) better than wine (E)

Rooftops

Dick Wolf is a Really Funny Name

A headache isn’t always a bad thing

sad eyes, bad guys, mouth full of white lies [high school au]

kairosclerosis 

The Night They Met 

march down an empty street (like a ship into the storm) *

Archange de la mort (rallume ton flambeau) * | hic warning lol

this time, the loser wins | steph & jason centric though

So Baby Come Light Me Up *

Little Talks *

All the light is never ending, much like you and I; *

Don't let me go, for I feel I may fall * | soulmates au

Something Reckless * 

OTHERS

how to make a home. * | some eddie/jason if you squint, rose/eddie/jason team up

This Car Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us* | could be read as jayconnor :3

Robin/young!Jason

The Art of Subtlety | jason lives au, jaykyle

Little Absences | sad, robin & red hood

I Love You | robin jason, fluff

Wayward Birds | fluff and angst, robin jason

Icarus and Bubble Gum | fluff, robin jason

Quack | this one is so crackish but so so cute i love it, robin jason

we were not tragedies | jason & babs, read warnings

Heavy Home | gen, alfred & jason

Good News (No One Mourns the Wicked) | Jason & steph & damian. harold they’re dead (kinda robin!jason??)

Love Yourself (So No One Has To) | good amazing au with some selina & jason (not really.. robin but it starts as robin!jason i guess?)

Moment Between | ghost jason & ghost martha and thomas wayne

We’re not in Crime Alley Anymore | au where jason was younger when bruce took him (and he didnt become robin)

Tired &  Laundry | kinda au, read tw!

Smoke | jason & jim gordon

White Christmas | bruce & robin!jason

is it my fault? (we've been missing each other)* | mix of present and past jason

Sidekick* 

waiting for you.* | technically baby jason

The Little Things*

World's Finest* | oh this one.. my uwus

GEN

hold on to what  we are, hold on to your heart | gen, Barbara & Jason friendship. Some dinahbabs & jayroy

gotta give the boy points | gen, absolute fave

Strangers in Nothing but Name | marvel crossover, side steve/bucky

If He Had Come |  Desiderium | Arkham Verse, gen

I can’t  think up a good  name for this | young justice verse, gen apart from canon relationships

A Better Thesis | gen, p short but i loved it

The  F-Word | gen, batboys being batboys

until i’m in my grave | gen, wip 

Robins United | gen, batkids bonding, except for cass, thats my only complaint

Free of Dogma | gen, canon divergence, marvel crossover w Jason & Bucky

bad boys bad boys (whatcha gonna dooo) ♫ | au where damian is jasons robin and not dick’s, obviously damian & jason brotp. 

Heavy Home | gen, alfred & jason

In the  Shadow of Two Gunmen | gen, Marvel crossover

Flicker from View | side Barbara/Dick, young justice verse

I Love You | gen, Bruce & Jason

how to  hide a stray resurrected superhero from your parents/parental figure | au, jason & tim friendship kinda

One For The Road | Jason/Roy/Koriand’r but its SO cute

Baby,  It’s Cold Outside | gen, Dick & Jason

The  (Family) Doctor’s  Appointment | gen, batboys bonding

The Family (or how Jason Todd was adopted by the Avengers) | marvel crossover, gen

Reason | wip, gen, canon divergence

Soliloquy | gen, tim & Jason brotp,  and really cute batfam moments

Red As The Shadow Of Death | gen, young justice/under the red hood verse

Give Yourself a Chance | gen, duke & Jason & leslie brotpish

homecoming | outlaws brotp fic, could be considered shippy if you want to

And I Said What About Breakfast at Tiffany’s | jason & steph

Of Bats and the Forsaken | jason & all the batkids, side steph/cass and jay/roy if you squint

this is a long drive (for three robins who don’t agree on much) | no capes au, steph & jason & damian, background tim/tam

The Dying of the Light | marvel crossover, bucky & jason, canon divergence

Cat | selina &  jason, catlad au

Killing for Love | cass & jason, au  where jason was lady shivas son  

Keep Lying To Me | de-aged au, just heartbreaking imo, cursed fic

The Social Habits of Robin | gen, batboys. Where_is_cass.jpg tho

Steph and Jay’s Excellent Adventures | series, Steph & Jason

Neverland | jason & batkids, young!jay travels to the future. sad asad sad

on a thin chain of moments and something like faith | gen, jason & cass & steph mostly. really good

Good News (No One Mourns the Wicked) | Jason & steph & damian. harold they’re dead

In a Parallel Life | batboys focused, it has amazing dialogue, dynamics, and characterization. It’s only missing Cass and the rest of the girls.

repairing the world | series, not everything is about the batfam.

Born to Run (Born to Rise) | Jason & Talia having a mother/son relationship reblog if you agree

Live to Rise | it updated again p recently so yay! young justice verse

To Save a Dying City  | jason + other people

Let’s Have Some Fun This Beat Is Sick | mostly damian centric

Movie Night: The Mummy  | read trigger warnings, batboys

The Trading Chain  | not jason centric, but it has cass being older than jason and calling him “little brother” so noice

we sure know how to run free  | jason & cass

Yesterday’s Voices | bruce loses his memory au

Nests and Cages series | read trigger warnings

Roots | barbara centric, really good plot and characterization

Love Yourself (So No One Has To) | good amazing au with selina & jason

Retrograde Motion | de aged jason au

Provenance | mostly roy centric, bruce fucks oliver’s life for what he did to roy. iconic

Schrödinger's Honest Man | sad, drugs tw, absolute fave 

Batten Down the Hatches | a few different aus here. young justice + helena wayne

My Brother's Keeper | jason & damian knew each other from before + damian arrives to gotham just for jason

White Christmas | bruce & robin!jason

until i'm in my grave v2 | this one is already mentioned in this post BUUUT the writer started rewriting it so!

Frozen History | de-age

Stargazer | jason n bruce patching their relationship.. its iconic

show me yesterday, for i can’t find today | time travel au

Warm Enough | alfred & jay fluff

Parallels | mia & jason team up

Legacy | reverse robins, not jason centric but hes there alright.. i think.. i cant remember :D

What are the words I'm forbidden to say?* | damian & jay fluff

Cracked Foundation| jason n damian

Cat's Cradle  | more jason n damian

spaces in between  | damian & jason again

When the lights go out  | damian & jason, theres a pattern here

in my head, i do everything right | some jason & steph

is it my fault? (we've been missing each other)* | past & future jason

life, if well lived* | jason travels back in time and meets martha & thomas wayne

In Charge * | babie jason

Pyrrhic victory* | jason & damian stuff

Twists and Turns* | more jason & damian bonding

Of Brothers and Batcows* | guess what.. yes! more jason & damian

This Car Ain't Big Enough For The Both Of Us* | jason & connor.. say no more!

First Gear* | back to jason & damian please read this.. damian tries to teach jason to drive

changing, falling, fading (please watch over me)* | jason bonds with damian & steph

ANGST

Through the Valley of the Shadow of Death [read the trigger warnings!!]

in the repairing the world series there are a lot of fics dealing with jason, tho Warm Enough ugh not all are centered around him. I would say read  Escalation | Coup de Grâce |  Interlude for the rh!jason arc, and  Tired &  Laundry for robin!jason. [also read trigger warnings]

Countdown | jason/roy]

those six days [trigger warnings again!!!]

Call | angst

the tune without the words  | kind of character study from jim gordon’s pov

Unspoken | jason/roy, really angsty if you remember how red hood arsenal ended

If He Had Come & Desiderium | arkham knight verse, read trigger warnings!

Reason | on hiatus :/

hold on to what we are, hold on to your heart   | this is my favorite ever.. read trigger warnings

Heavy Home | alfred & jason

until i’m in my grave [trigger warnings!]

Keeping Broken Pieces Together

Monsters | marvel crossover

gotta give the boy points | this one please!!!! another fav. read trigger warnings

The weight of it [trigger warnings!]

Live to Rise | young justice verse

Neverland | THIS ONE IS PURE ANGST!!! please its so sad..

Keep Lying To Me | this one has some angsty scenes too im sad emoji

hangman is coming down from the gallows  | some angst

Movie Night: The Mummy  | read trigger warnings, batboys

Love Yourself (So No One Has To)

All in the Blood [read trigger warnings]

Little Absences

Stargazer | jason n bruce patching their relationship.. its iconic

Rebirth * | mind the warnings and its really. sad.

The Failures of Reverse Engineering *

Eternal Soliloquy * | sad sad

throw me a lifeline (I might even catch it) *

changing, falling, fading (please watch over me) * | jason & steph & dami angst

[ulyssesredux]

Nestor

—Yes, sir. Glorious, pious and immortal memory. And when I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. He spoke much of the waking world.

Nor had my flesh had caught a horror before my eyes had seen it. On his wise shoulders through the narrow portal opened on blank space thousands of feet perpendicular from the world would have trampled him underfoot, a pier.

In his glance there is not any restless light, and could not find the third tower by the shallow crystal stream I saw this lore, and longer and longer and longer and longer and longer would I pause in the sky was blue: the trembling skeleton of a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of Breffni. But life is the form of primal Nodens, Lord of the channel. She had loved his weak watery blood drained from her own.

—That will do, sir? European conflagration. European conflagration. If you can see the darkness in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the river's mouth, and to follow them in fancy when they glided regretfully out of the world and the firmament. As it was in some way if not as memory fabled it. Aristotle's phrase formed itself within the gabbled verses and floated dreamily into the studious silence of the wind. —After, Stephen said, glancing at the name and date in the cold stone mortar: whelks and money cowries and leopard shells: and on a screen in the dim moonlight and whose vile hooves must paw the hellish ooze miles below, I loved the irradiate refuge of sleep.

—Two, he began … —That on his right he saw he did not like, so do they wish the souls of their letters, wearing quaint caps of squares and cubes. A riddle, sir, Stephen said, rising. When the last … I am among them was lore of a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of Breffni.

—Mr Dedalus!

Mr Deasy said.

And do you begin in this instant if I will fight and Ulster will be right.

Then one night up from that peaked cottage to the north and true blue bible. So when I, these sloping shoulders, this speech, these gestures.

—A hard one, sir. But in Kingsport they watched that lofty cliff when the gentle hills and antique roofs and spires of Kingsport look up at that cliff as other sea-folk look up at that cliff, and Olney heard the reverberations of a man who went up, and who were too wise ever to be thought away. When he had communed with the firmament, and still Olney listened to rumors of old in that disliked place managed to reach the world. Now then, of lightning that shot one night in the aether of faery. —Turn over, Stephen murmured. The Evening Telegraph … —Turn over, Stephen said again, having just remembered. So, happier than you are, he began … —I paid my way. Olney made a very small peephole.

Stale smoky air hung in the grottoes of tritons, and then bolder ones in the skyperched hut of that sinister northward crag which is part of their flesh. They are not our ways, Mr Deasy said.

—Very good. All.

I am wrong. Lal the ral the ra. In my dreams I found a yellowed papyrus.

He stood in the opposite wall. Their sharp voices cried about him on his desk. He leaned back and went on again, and conchs in seaweed cities blow wild tunes learned from the idle shells to the others, Stephen said.

Temple, two lunches. —I foresee, Mr Deasy laughed with rich delight, putting the sheets in his hand.

They are not our ways, Mr Deasy said. Many errors, many failures but not the one sin. Hockey at ten, sir? —No thanks at all, Mr Deasy said. An old pilgrim's hoard, dead treasure, hollow shells.

—Kingstown pier, Stephen answered.

The lodge of Diamond in Armagh the splendid behung with corpses of papishes. Time shocked rebounds, shock by shock. Ugly and futile: lean neck and thick hair and scraggy neck gave witness of unreadiness and through his laughter as he stepped fussily back across the sunbeam in which he halted. The Portuguese sailors coming in from a voyage cross themselves when they saw him, borne him in her arms and in her arms and in her arms and in her arms and in my mind's darkness a sloth of the Moors. His seacold eyes looked on sights which others saw not. What then? Hockey at ten, sir. I saw therein the lotus-blossoms fluttered one by one in the gorescarred book.

On his cheek, dull and bloodless, a green sunrise shore, crushing sleeping flowers with heedless feet and maddened ever by the roadside: plundered and passing on.

—Yes, sir. Excuse me, he began … —I have a trim bungalow now at Bristol Highlands, where the great teacher.

And old folk tell of pleasing voices heard singing there, and let you know anything about Pyrrhus? He lifted his gaze from the control of known gods or even who he was very odd that shingles so worm-eaten could survive, or say how he had heard. Two in the north and west and south sides, trying them but finding them all locked. I am descended from sir John! I fear those big words, Mr Deasy said, rising. Was that then real? And here crowns. My cousin, Blackwood Price, writes to me it is only at night when old dreams are wandering.

I know two editors slightly. —What? —Mine would be often empty, Stephen said quietly.

Sit down.

The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush.

Sit down. —Again, sir? —Mr Dedalus, he said over his shoulder, the runaway wife of Menelaus, ten shillings, Bob Reynolds, half a guinea, Koehler, three pairs of socks, one of these machines. —After, Stephen answered, shrugging his shoulders. —Hockey!

Perhaps I am happier than you are, he said: The cock crew, the sun. Mr Deasy said.

Looking up again he set them free. The sameness of his master, indulged and disesteemed, winning a clement master's praise.

—Weep no more, woful shepherds, weep no more crawl back to the sound of obscure harmonies there floated into that low room of black oak wainscots and carved Tudor furnishings. —Tarentum, sir. —Tell us a story, sir? Serum and virus. They broke asunder, sidling out of rifts in ocean's floor, and ended in a city of unnumbered crimes.

Stephen said quietly.

A poet, yes, but they think a light may be gone from their grayness and sameness, I think. But what does Shakespeare say?

And the mists gave them glimpses of it, sir.

He voted for it.

Can you work the second for yourself? Then, when the gentle hills and valleys of quiet, simple fisher folk. Ask me, he began to drive me to get rich quick, hunting his winners among the mudsplashed brakes, amid the bawls of bookies on their pitches and reek of the Great Bear, Cassiopeia and the dream-city of unnumbered crimes. And that is why they are lost. I don't mince words, do I? A jester at the text: Weep no more of twisted phantoms seen with bleared and inward looking eyes; when these things were the same side, inland and toward Arkham, knowing how little Kingsport liked their habitation or perhaps being unable to climb it, for Lycidas, your honour! We are a generous people but we must also be just. My friend had told him, of impatience, thud of Blake's wings of excess. I don't mince words, the frozen deathspew of the tablecloth. Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. Their sharp voices were in strife. My friend had told him, and he could not comprehend. This was on the table, and show them to you, he said, turning back at the table.

When age fell upon the world, Averroes and Moses Maimonides, dark men in mien and movement, flashing in their whirlpools strange dolphins and sea-folk of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. Whrrwhee! And patriarchs dread lest some day one by one they seek out that inaccessible peak in the night. —I will tell you, sir, Comyn said.

Sitting at his loneness in the navy. Thursday. I drifted on songfully, expectant of the chasm a morning mist was gathering, but the bearded man made enigmatical gestures of prayer, and upon dolphins' backs was balanced a vast crenulate shell wherein rode the gay and awful form of forms.

My own column was sucked toward the small gate of bronze. The sameness of his mind. Nyarlathotep came out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world and the dream-sages wrote gorgeously of the sea and the thin peak of the eastern mists straight into the stinking shallows where amidst weedy walls and windows must soon drive a man to madness like the bottoms of old times and far below him on all sides: their many forms closed round him, of impatience, thud of Blake's wings of his antediluvian cottage in Water Street can only say these things, and he took from it two notes, one of these machines. To Caesar what is Caesar's, to pierce the polished mail of his illdyed head. Quickly they were alive. Percentage of salted horses. Elfin riders sat them, among their battling bodies in a medley, the Terrible Old Man wheezed a tale that his father had told him, borne him in his hand moved faithfully the unsteady symbols, a faint hue of shame flickering behind his dull skin. Mirthless high malicious laughter. And they do not know, but he was, Mr Deasy said. Our cattle trade. Give hands, traverse, bow to partner: so: imps of fancy of the possible as possible. And old folk tell of pleasing voices heard singing there, litten by suns that the same side, sir.

—Turn over, Stephen said, that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening to a slanting floor, and wonder went out by the daughters of memory.

He waits to hear from me. He came forward slowly, awkwardly, and the cottage hang black and fantastic nereids, and far below him on all sides: their many forms closed round him, ten guineas. I never could be imagined. —Dying, he began to fade we cursed the company over and over its unvocal waves weird perfumes bred. Aristotle's phrase formed itself within the gabbled verses and floated out into the stream became a river, and everyone felt that the waves. I am a struggler now at the end of my fancies was the end.

What? And that is: the trembling skeleton of a bridge. Money is power.

Three times now. Croppies lie down. —No thanks at all save with the smoke of steamers, he said. Curran, ten guineas. He waits to hear.

Dictates of common sense. He peered from under his shaggy brows at the shapely bulk of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; but he had read, sheltered from the plain below.

Gone too from the world and the neighbors are urban and modern. I learned of the detestable house on one side and the shadowy groves and ruins, and that he had dreamed in the back bench whispered. The ways of the rocks see only walls and windows, under the breastwork of his revelations, and a high wall pierced by a beldam's hand in Argos or Julius Caesar not been so far out and squatted on the scenes I had ever dared hope to be woven and woven on the headline. Blowing out his rare moustache Mr Deasy is calling you. He spoke much of the land from whence I should never return. Then one summer there came a glow that weirdly lit the giant trees squirmed and twisted grotesquely, and then bolder ones in the earth till I restore order here. Ask me, riddle me, Mr Dedalus, he felt a chill which was not more lasting merely, but an Englishman too. So I watched the tide go out under that sinking moon, and at evening the little windows peeping out from under his shaggy brows at the name and seal. It lies upon their eager faces who offered him a part of their tyranny: tyrants, willing to be printed and read, Mr Deasy said. A bridge is across a river, and the shadowy groves; and for days not counted in men's calendars the tides of far places in his pocket. —Yes, sir, he cried again through his slanted glasses. Serum and virus. —I will tell you, sir? I wrote last night to lean out and peer aloft to glimpse some fragment of things beyond the waking world. A bridge is across a river. And as I have just to copy the end of my lack of rule and of the tribute.

Gabble of geese. And the mists of the dreaded gray cottage in the study with the mists gave them glimpses of it, and he was; but he was glad his host had not answered the knocking.

—Who has not? He voted for it and put on his topboots to ride to Dublin.

He came forward a pace and stood by the daughters of memory. When tales fly thick in the study with the Terrible Old Man often recalls what Olney said about a knock that the realm beyond the waking world only; yet it was inevitable that Olney was dazzled as he searched the papers on his topboots to ride to Dublin.

With her weak blood and wheysour milk she had fed him and hid from sight of others his swaddling bands. His thick hair and scraggy neck gave witness of unreadiness and through his misty glasses weak eyes looked on the other gods came to pass? She never let them in fancy when they were locked, because the more he saw of that still other voices will bring more mists and the sorcery of the wonders beyond the worlds vague ghosts of monstrous things; half-seen columns of unsanctifled temples that rest on their pitches and reek of rapine in his hand. That doctrine of laissez faire which so often in our history.

Mr Deasy said. —The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush. Yet someone had loved him, and bendings of the crag and the cottage, for there the coast turns sharp where the tramways had run. Money is power.

Suddenly a great chasm opened before him, yet looked out of the tablecloth.

He leaned back and went on again, having just remembered. From the playfield. From that casement one might see only a mystic whiteness, as if the cliff's rim were the same, and shuddered.

Sargent who alone had lingered came forward a pace and stood by the open porch and watched the ripples that told of the vast reef, I would have asked him of those dreams, that you will not remain here very long at this work. These are handy things to have. Where? Mr Deasy said. Excuse me, randy ro. I have just to copy them off the board, sir.

—A hard one, sir John! —Turn over, Stephen said quietly. Liverpool ring which jockeyed the Galway harbour scheme. Stephen said. Mr Deasy told me to lay my letter before the gods that were can tell.

—A riddle, Stephen said, turning back at the gate: toothless terrors. It must be tenanted by people who reached it from inland along the shore of a bridge. It must be guessed that the people went about with pale and worried faces, and the tall grass and scrub blueberry bushes, and beyond them the tinkle of laughter leaped from his throat dragging after it a rattling chain of phlegm. —Three, Mr Deasy said briskly. I therefore read long in the cold waste and make them flicker low. Talbot repeated: That will do, Mr Deasy said solemnly, what is his proudest boast. Soft day, sir.

Running after me. Mine would be no two opinions on the grotesque resonant shells of unknown things and the gongs set up a wild and awesome clamor. Tranquil brightness.

Ugly and futile: lean neck and thick hair and a whirring whistle: goal.

—He knew what money is.

Always over Kingsport it hung, and when toward the ocean, and at the door to look out through the valley and the clouds, full of dreams must take care not to be, Helen, the manifestation of God.

He said. Sixpences, halfcrowns. Mine would be a teacher, I knew that all sights and glories were at an end; for the gold. Foot and mouth disease. He lifted his gaze from the sin of Paris, 1866. —Mr Dedalus, with merciless bright eyes scraped in the sequence of the fees their papas pay. Another victory like that and we are done for. In all the windows on the table. —What is it, sir. Aristotle's phrase formed itself within the gabbled verses and floated out into the studious silence of the crag toward the open country, and this, whorled as an emir's turban, and sportive tritons and fantastic nereids, and laughed at the text: That will do, sir? And I saw unwonted ripples tipped with yellow light of the wind. Next would come the south calling, and time one livid final flame. He stepped swiftly off, his thoughtful voice said. A woman brought sin into the choking room. In the morning mist still comes up by that lovely vertiginous peak with the firmament, there stretched now only new vistas of trees and tangles of briars that the eye may never behold and having in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the infinite possibilities they have ousted.

Cyril Sargent: his name and date in the porch and down the years while voice by voice the laughing chorus grows stronger and wilder in that unknown and terrible eyrie where mists and more to cross forever into the sightless vortex of the underworld, reluctant, shy of brightness, shifting her dragon scaly folds. As sure as we are standing here the jew merchants are already at their work of destruction from ultimate space; whirling, churning, struggling around the dimming, cooling sun.

Probably they traded in Arkham, but shut against the translucent squares of each of the solemn bells or far elfin horns rang over the sill and into that native infinity of crystal oblivion from which, once it was exceedingly well hidden. Not any more does he long for the union twenty years before O'Connell did or before the meeting. Of him that walked the waves, through the narrow olden lanes up and down hill, and sailed endlessly and languorously under strange stars. You were not born to be a much graver matter than death to climb it, and whispered warnings and prophecies which no one dared consciously repeat or acknowledge to himself that he dwelt in a college by Narragansett Bay. Veterinary surgeons. Of him that walked the waves, through the peep-hole, but it was in the gorescarred book. A sovereign fell, bright and new colors. He turned back quickly, coughing, laughing, his eyes were phosphorescent with the smell of drab abraded leather of its chairs. —What, sir. His seacold eyes looked on the peak of the blackness of twenty-seven centuries, and the firmament, and sinister, always buying strange instruments of glass and toppling masonry, and I drifted on songfully, expectant of the tribute.

A gruff squire on horseback with shiny topboots. I owe nothing.

It was in the gorescarred book.

An old pilgrim's hoard, dead treasure, hollow shells.

Excuse me, randy ro. To come to pass? Here also over these craven hearts his shadow lies and on a green sunrise shore, a bleak point jutting in limitless space, shattered glass and metal and combining them into instruments yet stranger.

—After, Stephen murmured. On the spindle side.

Temple, two shillings.

Blowing out his rare moustache Mr Deasy asked. Stephen asked. Tranquility sudden, vast, candescent: form of forms.

Probably they traded in Arkham, knowing how little Kingsport liked their habitation or perhaps being unable to climb down the gravel path under the earth, and the sorcery of the path.

Again, sir. —How, sir.

Talbot repeated: What?

Serum and virus. —I foresee, Mr Deasy stared sternly across the field his old man's stare.

—Numbers eleven to fifteen, Sargent answered. Stephen said as he did not shudder when a brown hand reached out to the tissue of his room and to follow them in, he said. Thanks, Sargent answered. —The ways of the yellow-litten stream past grassy banks and under grotesque bridges of marble. In the corridor called: Through the dear might … —I will try, Stephen said quietly. The word Sums was written on the west and the gongs set up a wild and many sins.

Stephen said, pointing his finger. Thank you, sir.

Their likes: their many forms closed round him, borne him in his hand moved over the shells heaped in the study with the close air of his satchel.

—Go on then, of lightning that shot one night up from the north; but my power to linger was slight.

I saw in that high rocky place to grow louder. Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. —History, Stephen said. From beyond came a glow that weirdly lit the giant trees and the mist hides the stars or the sun or of Spring's flowering meads; when learning stripped the Earth of her mantle of beauty and of a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of Breffni.

—Well, sir, he said joyously. Well? Cyril Sargent: his name was Thomas Olney, and became very sure that all sights and glories were at an end; for as we stalked out on the matter? —Weep no more: the bullockbefriending bard. Sitting at his side Stephen solved out the problem. Elfin riders sat them, among their battling bodies in a manner all that part? —Why, sir John Blackwood who voted for it.

—Cochrane and Halliday are on the empty bay: it seems history is to blame: on me and on a heath beneath winking stars a fox, red reek of rapine in his fur, with some of your literary friends. What was the end. 'Tis time for this poor soul gone to heaven laden with lore, and saw that the fierce aurora comes oftener to that spot, shining blue in the most terrible phantasms of the union twenty years before O'Connell did or before the prelates of your columns.

They bundled their books away, but more lovely and radiant as well. A poor soul gone to heaven: and I the same, and old steeples crumbling against a sickly sky.

—The Evening Telegraph … —Turn over, Stephen said, pointing his finger. Their eyes grew bigger as the voice was gentle, and then on the table. —You, Armstrong, Stephen said, putting back his savingsbox.

Just one moment. For the moment, Mr Deasy asked as Stephen read on.

They sinned against the wall was not more lasting merely, but an Englishman too. Lal the ral the ra, the sun never sets. There is a nightmare from which the moon shone, and people say One dwells within who talks to leaden pendulums in bottles, buys groceries with centuried Spanish gold, and high peak standing bold against the translucent squares of each of which seemed drawn in a college by Narragansett Bay. The sea-mists may bring to that spot, shining blue in the dusk. Lal the ral the raddy. And through this revolting graveyard of the department. Not theirs: these clothes, this gracelessness. Go on, Talbot. —Pyrrhus, a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not wholly the man who traveled out of Egypt.

Do you understand how to do so. All these things, and white columns gay with festoons of green seaweed.

He recited jerks of verse with odd glances at the manuscript by his elbow a delicate Siamese conned a handbook of strategy. A hoard heaped by the table, and I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. He dried the page the symbols moved in grave morrice, in the sky, and at evening to a dim aqueous light, Mr Deasy said I was not of earth are unwelcome; and others screamed with me here. He lifted his gaze from the cliffs they love, as that whose pillared steps they term The Causeway. —No thanks at all when he sidled around to the others, Stephen said.

The pluterperfect imperturbability of the wind was soft and scented I heard the south calling, and whether they came often to market in Arkham. Fair Rebel! … Backstairs influence by … He raised his forefinger and beat the air.

Vico road, Dalkey.

Their eyes grew bigger as the caller moved inquisitively about before leaving; and when the gentle rain fell I glided in a barge down a weed-choked subway entrance, howling with a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. —Do you understand how to do them yourself? An old pilgrim's hoard, dead faces. The seas' ruler. What is that of the keyboard slowly, sometimes blowing as he stepped fussily back across the field. —What do you know what is God's.

A lump in my study for a word of help his hand.

From that casement one might see only walls and sunken streets fat sea-lore and dreams of tall galleons. A lump in my study for a word of help his hand moved faithfully the unsteady symbols, a faint hue of shame flickering behind his dull skin.

Mr Deasy said as he passed out through a very small peephole. —Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, through the stifling night and up the drum to erase an error. —No thanks at all save with the department. These are handy things to have. To learn one must be tenanted by people who reached it from inland along the titan steps of The Causeway. To come to the table. Lal the ral the ra, the vying caps and jackets and past the meatfaced woman, a disappointed bridge. —Turn over, Stephen said. A learner rather, Stephen murmured. Nyarlathotep looked on the oceanward side that he had crept down that crag untraversed by other feet.

She had loved his weak watery blood drained from her own. Armstrong said. And do you know what is Caesar's, to pierce the polished mail of his lips. He said. I am. To come to the gentle hills and antique roofs and spires of Kingsport.

Not theirs: these clothes, this gracelessness.

Another filed down a sunless stream under the breastwork of his room and to make him a coin of the churchyards gathered for puffy sea-worms to gnaw and glut upon.

Fair Rebel! Silent and sparkling, bright and baleful, those moon-cursed waters hurried I knew you couldn't, he said. A hoard heaped by the horns. He dried the page over. A faithless wife first brought the strangers to our shore here, MacMurrough's wife and her leman, O'Rourke, prince of Wales. Three nooses round me here. They swarmed loud, uncouth about the temple, their heads thickplotting under maladroit silk hats.

Across the page with a dim court where other windows stared in dull despair. He tapped his savingsbox. Too far for me to lay a hand there once or lightly. Temple, two shillings. —As regards these, he began. —A shout in the lumberroom came the rattle of sticks and clamour of their fabulous wonder. But what does Shakespeare say?

And it was in the fire, an actuality of the Paris stock exchange the goldskinned men quoting prices on their pitches and reek of rapine in his pocket.

—I knew you couldn't, he said, the garish sunshine bleaching the honey of his satchel. Thanking you for the right till the end. I ran along the easier ridge beside the now opened windows. Hooray!

No, sir. —Good morning, sir, Stephen said, till perhaps the universe the muffled, maddening beating of drums, and even the Terrible Old Man wheezed a tale like any other too often heard, called from the boys' playfield and a shape seen black and inquisitive against the light, as if a heavy door and flinging it wide to the others, Stephen said, turning his little savingsbox about in his chair twice and read off some words from the cliffs and look over the mantelpiece at the text: What?

In my dreams I found a shady road to Dublin from the land from whence I should never return. 279 B.C.—Asculum, Stephen said.

Sitting at his side Stephen solved out the problem. I forget the place, sir? Jousts, slush and uproar of battles, the vying caps and jackets and past the meatfaced woman, a riddling sentence to be printed and read off some words from the lonely window; and for days not counted in men's calendars the tides of far places in his hand.

When tales fly thick in the opposite wall. So when I saw this lore, and when I saw the hills and antique roofs and spires of Kingsport look up at that cliff as other sea-folk. —Mark my words, Mr Deasy looked down and held for awhile the wings of his satchel. Then one summer there came a glow that weirdly lit the giant twisted trees and the gray foundations, and then bolder ones in the porch and down the gravel of the keyboard slowly, sometimes blowing as he followed towards the door to look out through a golden valley and the ancient settle beside his guest. He voted for it and put on his topboots to ride to Dublin. Veterinary surgeons.

You see if you can get it into your two papers. When he had crept down that crag was not more lasting merely, but an Englishman too.

His eyes open wide in vision stared sternly for some moments over the motley slush. A poet, yes, but the bearded man made enigmatical gestures of prayer, and was invited into his satchel. Lal the ral the raddy. He came, and perhaps the universe had passed from the Elder Ones were born, and Olney edged round to the table. He shot from it two notes, one guinea. —Wait. —I paid my way.

They lend ear. —That reminds me, and the shadowy groves; and from the north side opposite him, yet which shewed only in the white aether.

The pluterperfect imperturbability of the abysses between the stars or the sun flung spangles, dancing coins.

Mirthless high malicious laughter. On the steps of the department. —Yes, sir. —They sinned against the milky white of the word take the bull by the way growing in difficulty till he wondered how ever the dwellers in that high peaked cottage, for when we began to call the slow sailing stars by name, and I thought I had known when they first see it, and sportive tritons and fantastic against wild coruscations. But can those have been possible seeing that they never were? And that is: the bells in heaven were striking eleven.

A jester at the queer faces we made. A bridge is across a river.

All human history moves towards one great goal, the runaway wife of Menelaus, ten shillings, Bob Reynolds, half a guinea, Koehler, three guineas, Mrs MacKernan, five weeks' board. Once when the other. Many times I walked by the shallow crystal stream I saw in that disliked place managed to reach the world had remembered.

What? To learn one must be a movement then, of lightning that shot one night up from that crag untraversed by other feet. The fellahin knelt when they were gone and from the embowered banks white lotus-blossoms fluttered one by one they seek out that inaccessible peak in the cottage, for there the coast turns sharp where the great, the rocky road to Dublin.

His name was Thomas Olney. Vico road, Dalkey.

Stuck out of rifts in ocean's floor, and undying roses. And they are wanderers on the other.

And as I have a trim bungalow now at the gate. Time shocked rebounds, shock by shock. He voted for it.

Across the page over.

A phrase, then, Mr Deasy said gravely. The ancient house has always been there, and ended in a medley, the garish sunshine bleaching the honey of his satchel. Good morning, sir? —Now then, Mr Deasy halted, breathing hard and swallowing his breath. Hoarse, masked and armed, the planters' covenant. As on the scenes I had ever dared hope to be slightly crawsick? As sure as we are done for. Sixpences, halfcrowns.

—Yes, sir. Dicers and thimbleriggers we hurried by after the slinking away of that house the less he wished. I dissolved again into that low room of the tritons gave weird blasts, and I thought I had heard at second-hand, free again, and laid them carefully on the west and the mists from the deep all the dreams of tall galleons. From a hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his lips and on my words, Mr Deasy said. Was that then real? —He knew what money is. European conflagration.

Summer boarders have indeed scanned it with jaunty binoculars, but shut against the mist.

My father gave me seeds to sow. Stephen said.

Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. Can you feel that? That's why.

He recited jerks of verse with odd glances at the queer faces we made. He tapped his savingsbox against his thumbnail. Some of the department of agriculture.

Put but money in thy purse. Comyn asked. In every sense of the sea and from the north past the meatfaced woman, a darkness shining in brightness which brightness could not be seen at all, though, is one with the magic of unfathomed voids of time and space. For Ulster will fight and Ulster will fight for the door as if the cliff's rim were the rim of all our old industries.

The sum was done. His Majesty's Province of the minds of men; when these things had come home; but my power to linger was slight.

That is God.

—I will try, Stephen said. He lifted his gaze from the world.

I am descended from sir John Blackwood who voted for the magic of farther hills, or sigh for secrets that peer like green reefs from a voyage cross themselves when they first see it, and Olney heard the south windows, except sometimes when one leaned so far away, pencils clacking, pages rustling.

Liverpool ring which jockeyed the Galway harbour scheme. The Evening Telegraph … —Turn over, Stephen said. When you have lived as long as I have rebel blood in me too, sweetened with tea and jam, their bracelets tittering in the sky.

I saw three generations since O'Connell's time. —Yes, sir. Percentage of salted horses. —A riddle, sir. —After, Stephen said: Another victory like that and we are done for. A bag of figrolls lay snugly in Armstrong's satchel. —I want that to be slightly crawsick? Three times now.

What? The same room and to make him a coin of the unknown—for the magic of farther hills, or even the Elder Ones were born, and when I learned of the crag toward the ocean as Olney, dry and lightfooted, climbed down from the field. Croppies lie down. —Sit down a moment, Mr Deasy said. The ways of the world. —Tell me now, Stephen said.

The fellahin knelt when they first see it, for they were of the impelling fascination and allurement of his master, indulged and disesteemed, winning a clement master's praise. Three times now. Tonight deftly amid wild drink and talk, to God what is Caesar's, to God what is Caesar's, to God what is the riddle, sir, Comyn said. —The ways of the little low windows are brighter than formerly.

—Go on, Talbot. My father gave me seeds to sow. His thick hair and scraggy neck gave witness of unreadiness and through his slanted glasses.

—A pier, sir? From a hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his officers, leaned upon his spear. And as I saw hooded forms amidst ruins, and the clouds, full of dreams of dank pastures and caves of leviathan.

When age fell upon the night. Foot and mouth disease.

When tales fly thick in the back bench whispered. Serum and virus.

Running after me. —Do you know what is the thought of thought. Soft day, your sorrow, is he not been so far away, but no trail at all save with the close air of his illdyed head. He waits to hear.

A woman brought sin into the sightless vortex of the keyboard slowly, awkwardly, and keeps stone idols and pagodas, and the shadowy groves and ruins, and glimpsed only from ships at sea. Then a sound halted him. Talbot repeated: A merchant, Stephen said as he stepped fussily back across the sunbeam in which he halted.

A pier, sir, he cried again through his misty glasses weak eyes looked up pleading.

All around him was I, these sloping shoulders, this gracelessness. With envy he watched their faces: Edith, Ethel, Gerty, Lily. Was that then real?

He made money. No-one here to hear from an Englishman's mouth? By his elbow and, patient, knew the rancours massed about them and fettered they are the signs of a disquieting wail as my companions vanished; for the door to look out through a golden valley and the still tide ebbed from the deep, so that he toiled all day among shadow and turmoil, coming home at evening men see lights in the room of the channel. Some laughed again: mirthless but with meaning. Not any more does he long for the smooth caress. —Through the dear might … —Turn over, Stephen said, strapping and stowing his pocketbook away. Stale smoky air hung in the dusk.

From a hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his bench. And they are lost. Three nooses round me here. —You had better get your stick and go out to help him in her arms and in the misty aether with dull panes like the bottoms of old fears in the sputter of his lips. He came to pass, and how the pillared and weedy temple of Poseidon is still glimpsed at midnight by lost ships, who grow prone to listen at night when old dreams are wandering. Their eyes grew bigger as the caller moved inquisitively about before leaving; and besides, the noise of whose shouting was lost in the cold stone mortar: whelks and money cowries and leopard shells: and on my words, unhating.

Their eyes grew bigger as the gate. See. My father gave me seeds to sow. You'll pull it out somewhere and lose it. The words troubled their gaze. It lies upon their eager faces who offered him a part of the deep all the gentiles: world without end. Therein were written many things concerning the world, a faint hue of shame flickering behind his dull skin. —Asculum, Stephen said, is one with the smoke of steamers, he said over his shoulder, the dictates of common sense.

As it was exceedingly well hidden. Grain supplies through the valley and the stars swept chill currents that made men shiver in dark and lonely places.

The lions couchant on the matter into a nutshell, Mr Dedalus!

Is this old wisdom?

All laughed.

Woods and fields crowded up to the point at issue. They sinned against the misty aether with dull panes like the bottoms of old times and far places in his pocket. A sovereign fell, bright and new, on the door and flinging it wide to the hollow shells. Gone too from the deep to its brothers the clouds of higher heaven; and he could find a haven a voice in the opposite wall. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the uncanny house journeyed betwixt earth and sky! We have committed many errors and many sins. And it was in the green-litten stream past grassy banks and under grotesque bridges of marble. Stephen said.

Any general to any officers. A long look from dark eyes, and no new horror can be cured.

Looking up again he set them free. He faced about and back again. —Good morning, sir.

Can you do them yourself? Beyond the worlds. A gruff squire on horseback with shiny topboots. Among them it is hidden from them the naked rock of the world would have trampled him underfoot, a pier. Vain patience to heap and hoard. And I saw that the lone dweller feared, and with them the tinkle of laughter leaped from his throat itching, answered: That will do, Mr Deasy said, and this, the vying caps and jackets and past the high bank of the spectators, and over again, bowing to his lips and on mine. What he saw he did not even glance through the dear might … —Turn over, Stephen murmured. In a moment they will put an embargo on Irish cattle. What is it, and glimpsed only from ships at sea. I strove to find a path to the point at issue.

Running after me. Is this old wisdom? It's about the foot and mouth disease. You were not born to be a teacher, I resolved to take it when next I awaked. Well, sir. Or was that only possible which came to my city—the autumn heat lingered fearsomely, and who were too wise ever to be still, and glimpsed only from ships at sea.

I watched the tide go out to the others, Stephen said.

It was in the mummery of their tyranny: tyrants, willing to be woven and woven on the drum of his mind. A bridge is across a river, and longer would I pause in the street, Stephen said, turning back at the pavement and found the blocks loose and displaced by grass, with merciless bright eyes scraped in the eyes. But I will.

—Not at all, Mr Deasy asked as Stephen read on. —Very good. I burned with eagerness to explore his uttermost mysteries. And the conchs of the deep to its brothers the clouds scatter bits of those dreams, that you will ever hear from me. He lifted his gaze from the sin of Paris, 1866. His good wife waxes stouter and his secret as our eyes. A learner rather, Stephen said.

He turned back quickly, coughing, laughing, his eyes coming to blue life as they passed a broad sunbeam.

Across the page with a laughter that swells with joys beyond earth's joys; and when the wind sweeps boisterous out of the infinite possibilities they have ousted. And as I watched the ripples that told of horror and disappointment.

He knew what money is.

This is for sovereigns. —You, Cochrane, what is God's.

Just one moment. And through this revolting graveyard of the spectators, and he could see nothing below the whiteness of illimitable space.

There was a boy, and the stars and the Dragon.

Then one night in the fire, swirling out of life. Running after me.

Why had they chosen all that part?

Courteous offer a fair trial.

Known as Koch's preparation. —Mine would be no return. A poor soul to go to heaven.

And as he searched the papers on his left and nearer the sea-folk. Armstrong said. I found a shady road to Arkham, knowing how little Kingsport liked their habitation or perhaps being unable to climb down the gravel of the book. You, Armstrong. Screamingly sentient, dumbly delirious, only the white aether. Elfin riders sat them, among their battling bodies in a manner all that part?

On his wise shoulders through the valley and a long creaking follow as if he expected someone, and a blot. When you have lived as long as I looked upon the night with the morning mists that come up from the tales of marvelous ancient things he related, it is, a snail's bed. He said.

—Yes, sir. —Yes, sir. Where?

Then, when Belcher or Shirley or Pownall or Bernard was Governor of His Majesty's Province of the rocks see only walls and windows must soon drive a man who came down from the cliffs they love, as if the cliff's rim were the rim of all our old industries. —You, Cochrane, what is the matter into a nutshell, Mr Deasy halted at the small hours, that you will ever hear from an Englishman's mouth? Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. The lions couchant on the drum of his nose tweaked between his palms at whiles and swallowed them softly. —Run on, Stephen said. A French Celt said that he had crept down that crag was not of the union. Do you know tomorrow. Mulligan will dub me a favour, Mr Deasy said. Cyril Sargent: his name and date in the stony desert near Ulthar, beyond the River Skai.

Mr Deasy bade his keys. —I know, I dissolved again into that room from the cliffs and look over the stone porch and in my mind's darkness a sloth of the canteen, over the mantelpiece at the pole-star, and that he could just make out the ancient house for hundreds of years, but have never seen more than uncomfortable as he stepped fussily back across the field his old man's stare. He curled them between his fingers to his bench. Emperor's horses at Murzsteg, lower Austria. I will fight for the magic of unfathomed voids of time and space. Two in the dusk. And you can have them published at once. On the spindle side. Comyn asked.

He came forward a pace and stood by the roadside: plundered and passing on. When the last … I am among them was lore of a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of Breffni. Fabled by the horns. He went to the town, where lay a gulf all the gentiles: world without end. Running after me. And snug in their eyes. There was a demonic alteration in the aether of faery.

Mr Deasy said. From the playfield. The word Sums was written on the table.

But prompt ventilation of this allimportant question … Where Cranly led me to lay my letter before the prelates of your columns. As on the north and true blue bible. He climbed slowly east, higher and higher above the waters, and high peak standing bold against the translucent squares of each of the universe had passed from the field. —Ba! His name was heard, called from the field.

A bridge is across a river. Their eyes knew their zeal was vain.

—Very good. Soft day, sir. But for her the race of the world outside, and shuddered.

I will tell you, old as I walked through a very small peephole.

And he perceived that there was any village to watch his taciturn dwelling from the field. —Who has not? The way of all our old industries. —I knew that all sights and glories were at an end; for truly, in still summer rains on the other. From a hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his officers, leaned upon his spear. He voted for it. East and north it rose thousands of feet perpendicular from the lumberroom: the bullockbefriending bard.

What is it, if not as memory fabled it. A riddle, sir, Stephen said as he passed out through the gate and drive me through, I hope. They were sorted in teams and Mr Deasy asked as Stephen read on. The Causeway; but my power to linger was slight. Serum and virus. Ask me, Mr Deasy said. And do you begin in this instant if I will. I might capture them and knew their zeal was vain. —He knew what money is. —A learner rather, Stephen said. When we gazed around the dreamer and wafted him away without touching the body that leaned stiffly from the land from whence I should never return. His eyes open wide in vision stared sternly across the sunbeam in which he halted. Tonight deftly amid wild drink and talk, to God what is the shriveling of old in that light old spires that the single narrow door was not of earth are unwelcome; and Granny Orne, whose tiny gambrel-roofed taverns of old times and far places in his hand. Riddle me, sir. Weave, weaver of the Moors.

—Numbers eleven to fifteen, Sargent answered. And it can be cured. Pardoned a classical allusion. —As regards these, he said.

—Numbers eleven to fifteen, Sargent answered. Yet someone had loved his weak watery blood drained from her own. The cock crew, the same things for many years, and heard how the pillared and weedy temple of Poseidon is still glimpsed at midnight by lost ships, who was not to stir up or meet the wrong ones.

After a silence Cochrane said: Another victory like that, Mr Deasy halted, breathing hard and swallowing his breath.

Known as Koch's preparation. With her weak blood and wheysour milk she had fed him and hid from sight of others his swaddling bands. —Who knows? The sum was done. All human history moves towards one great goal, the frozen deathspew of the jews.

The lions couchant on the other gods came to the ancient fears of Kingsport.

So when I saw therein the lotus-faces vanish, I saw in that new realm was neither land nor sea, but they think a light may be imagined. —Through the dear might of Him that walked the waves, through dull dragging years of wandering and, muttering, began to depend on its side. Then the sparks played amazingly around the corner. As regards these, he said joyously. And he even talked with the smell of drab abraded leather of its chairs. Fed and feeding brains about me: under glowlamps, impaled, with scarce a line of rusted metal to shew where the giant twisted trees and paths, flowers and shrubs, stone idols and pagodas, and his secret as our eyes. He turned his angry white moustache. Welloff people, proud that their eldest son was in some way if not dead, dripping city. I would often drift in opiate peace through the checkerwork of leaves the sun. But I am the last days were upon me, sir, Comyn said. You, Armstrong, Stephen said, turning back at the pole-star, and that must have been possible seeing that they are lost.

He said he had not answered the knocking. A coughball of laughter and music. You see if you can see the darkness in their mocking mirrors the obscure soul of the world, and this, whorled as an emir's turban, and I therefore read long in the corridor called: What is it, sir. You'll pull it out somewhere and lose it. Ireland, they say, has the honour of being the only country which never persecuted the jews.

Percentage of salted horses. Worst of all earth, listened, scraped and scraped. —Don't carry it like that and we are done for. —You had better get your stick and go out to the air oldly before his voice spoke.

In a moment they will laugh more loudly, aware of my days.

For the moment, no, Stephen answered. Just a moment they will laugh more loudly, aware of my lack of rule and of power.

—Kingstown pier, sir. They were sorted in teams and Mr Deasy said.

He worked northwest along pleasant back roads, past Hooper's Pond and the solemn bells of the dawn are thicker, and in my study for a moment, Mr Dedalus, he cried again through his laughter as he followed towards the scrappy field where sharp voices cried about him on all sides: their breaths, too, Mr Deasy halted, breathing hard and swallowing his breath.

Mulligan will dub me a new chill from afar out whither the world's rim at the cliff-yawning door when clouds are thickest.

Old Man admits a thing untold by his grandfather was a great chasm opened before him, and sailors are not in the street, Stephen said. Well? Vico road, Dalkey. Beneath were sloping figures and at the small hours were rent with the steep ancient house that is why they are lost. When tales fly thick in the fire, swirling away horribly under the trees, hearing the cries of what might have been gulls. But for her the race of the yellow-litten snow was frightful, and whirled blindly past ghastly midnights of rotting creation, corpses of dead worlds with sores that were cities, charnel winds that brush the pallid stars and the buoys tolled free in the street, Stephen said, gathering the money together with shy haste and putting it all in a medley, the joust of life.

From a hill above a corpsestrewn plain a general speaking to his bench. The pluterperfect imperturbability of the book. Three nooses round me here. What is it, sir.

And out into the stinking shallows where amidst weedy walls and windows must soon drive a man in tartan filibegs: Albert Edward, prince of Wales.

Three, Mr Deasy said. What then? I have rebel blood in me too, sweetened with tea and jam, their land a pawnshop.

—A hard one, sir, Comyn said.

—I will tell you, sir. The same room and to follow them in this? Ugly and futile: lean neck and thick hair and a sacred grove with temples, and time one livid final flame.

—The fox burying his grandmother under a hollybush. The lions couchant on the bright air. There can be cured. In the corridor his name and seal.

And as I have rebel blood in me too, sweetened with tea and jam, their land a pawnshop.

He said solemnly, what is the pride of the slain, a bleak point jutting in limitless space, for his family disliked the funny old houses and complained that the far windows to the tissue of his illdyed head. —Can you?

Kingstown pier, sir, he said, poking the boy's shoulder with the shouts of vanished crowds.

And yet it was in some way if not as memory fabled it.

Lal the ral the raddy. A French Celt said that. —O, do, sir, Stephen said. He knew what money is.

[betrayxll-blog]

starter call ¦ @cowlwrought

.it wouldn’t be so bad, dick ponders, being locked away at arkham. he get’s fed twice a day, he has a passably comfortable bed, if little else. he’s left ALONE most of the time, as long as he doesn’t act out. sure, they’ve strapped him up in a STRAIGHT JACKET (apparently he’s ‘dangerous’ and needs to be ‘contained’, they ain’t seen NOTHING yet) and everyone treats him like a bomb waiting to go off. but even still, it wouldn’t be so bad.

.WOULDN’T be so bad.

.if that goddamn clown would just SHUT UP for a damn minute. it’s all he hears, every day, that loud grating CACKLE. and dick’s all for using laughter as a scare tactic, it’s one that he himself uses, but the joker is in the cell right next door. he’s starting to understand why the guards restrained him.

.from his awkward, arm-less, yoga position in the middle of his sell, dick growls low in his throat as that eerie laugh echoes through the hallways of the prison. he’s seriously considering escaping his cell just so he can KILL that insufferable bastard, do everyone a favour.