#Waylon doesn't know if someone followed him

[nelkcats]

Ghost Train

It was no secret that the trains in Gotham were damaged, whether it was from all the explosions that flooded the city on a daily basis or the fact that the rails were broken wasn't completely clear. At that point, what was once a train station was nothing more than an empty place used by some homeless people to sleep.

Or that's what it was supposed to be, because while the station was damaged and underneath the city, it was actually active. It just had another kind of train, a slightly more interesting one.

In Danny's defense, he was extremely bored and there was an abandoned train station he could use to play with. All it took was calling in a favor from Technus and a fully functional ghost train connected the Infinite Realms to Gotham.

The ghosts, of course, used this for fun. Fighting each other, chasing each other, celebrating, having concerts. It was a way to go to the human world without anyone causing trouble for them, not that anyone was paying attention anyway.

Or at least, no one was supposed to be paying attention, because Waylon was dumbfounded at the sight. He had escaped to the old rails when he had no other choice, his sewers were compromised and he needed a way out. He didn't expect to walk right into a party, or be offered a sandwich with a smile instead of a shout.

He could also observe a clearly glowing train and the fact that everyone there was glowing. They could be metas, or another completely new creature, but Waylon didn't care, they gave him food and he wasn't a snitch.

#dpxdc #Waylon made new friends #ghost friends #and Danny acquired a ghost train #don't blame him #He's a ghost teenager with a lot of energy to waste #and looking forward to returning to the human world #ghost train is a safe way to do it #The ghosts found some homeless humans on the road and Lunch fed them #they accidentally bought their loyalty and silence with food #dp x dc #dc x dp #Waylon doesn't know if someone followed him #he hopes not #maybe he will return to the train station #It seems like a pretty comfortable place and its inhabitants were interesting #he really hopes Gotham doesn't screw it up #or worse that the bats will find out and ruin it

[admrlthundrbolt]

Leather and Lace (Killer Croc x Chubby Reader)

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Waylon Jones had never expected to be treated like a human again. That was until he met you. Now he will do anything in his power to protect you.

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Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I've always loved the idea of 'monsters' healing through care and affection. So I put our lovely boy Killer Croc into the spot light. I hope you enjoy.

Also, the 20th fanfiction will be a bit longer, not sure how long yet. But I have big plans for it.

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Smiling at the security guard, you made your way through the metal detector. Only to groan as the man stopped you. “It didn't even beep Hank. I have appointments to make.”

He gave a lecherous grin as he tapped your hip with his night stick. “Well, it is within my rights to randomly pat down any visitor.”

“Coming from another department hardly constitutes me being a visitor.” Spreading your legs, you hoped this would be quick.

“Just consider yourself an exception then, nurse.” He breathed down your neck.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cursing yourself, you sped to the solitary wing. That jerk had taken his time ‘patting’ you down. If you could call his thorough inspection that. No matter how many times you reported him you got the same answer. ‘We’ll look into it miss, but it would be better if you could work it out amongst yourselves’. Yet another excuse from Arkham to not keep their guards in line.

But as you thought of the patient you were heading to visit, your smile returned. Waylon Jones, aka Killer Croc, though he seemed to be the most humane ones here. If his treatment of you had any say in the matter.

The reason you even needed to see him was a violation all its own. He was beaten pretty badly and you were the only nurse brave enough to treat him. That was fine with you though, he was by far your best patient.

His cell was in an area a bit more isolated, but so were most of Arkham's most dangerous. As you came to the entrance, your badge was waved in front of a sensor. Stepping in you noticed that the guards had chained him to the bed. It was yet another standard procedure you didn’t approve of.

“Hello Mr. Jones. How are you feeling today.”

At the sound of your voice he lifted his head and sat up. “A lot better now that your here, Chere.” The smirk that crossed his face was almost more than you could bare. Who knew a crocodile man could be so charming.

Setting your go bag next to him, you gave him a visual once over. His wounds seemed to be healing well, with no visable infection. “Ok, shirt off.”

“Doesn't dinner usually come first.” His ‘complaint' was followed with him doing as you asked. He took the minor distraction as a chance to look you over. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever have imagine you. Being a new transfer, he was surprised at your attitude towards him. Most people always had a clear gleam of fear in their eyes when looking at him. Not you though.

Headstrong and full of determination. There wasn't a person that could stop you from trying to help someone in need. Though your personality was a big plus in his book. He could also gaze at you any time and not get tired of what he was seeing. Honestly, they should lock you away for how well your plush body filled out your scrubs. Forget the naughty nurse outfit, he didn't need to put you in anything but your uniform in his fantasies.

As you ran your warm, soft hands along his back. He couldn't help the shiver that ran through him. Think that he was cold, you moved to your bag. “Get dressed, the last thing I need is my most tolerable patient getting sick on top of injured.”

His smirk softened into a smile. “Aw Chere, i didn’t know you cared that much.” Sliding his shirt on gingerly, so as not to disturb his bruises. He was shocked to see you holding a jacket in his face.

“Of course I do. Now take this, it’s ridiculous that they don’t give you more layers. Do they not understand that you tend to be more cold blooded?” You huffed and straightened your bag, before slinging it over your shoulder.

This was exactly the kind of thing you did that drove him crazy. You knew things about him that no one else took the time to learn. He watched as you left the room, making sure to bid him a goodnight.

Putting the jacket on, it was a bit snug, but not so tight that one wrong move would cause it to rip. As he relaxed in his cot only for a lovely smell to take over his senses. Shifting the collar to his nose, your scent engulfed him. You were literally the type of person to give, someone like him, the clothing off your back.

He almost didn’t mind the shit that Hank put him through. If it meant that he got more time with you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later that week, you took the familiar route to Waylon's cell. A bit more pep in your step. You didn't have the usual run in with Hank, at the check security check point.

Scanning over your medical bag, you were surprised to see a guard outside of the cell you were assigned to. As you got closer, a frown settled on your face. Of course it was Hank, you couldn’t get a single shift away from this guy.

“Hank. Can I ask why your at my patient's door.” You hoped that the direct question may result in a quick conversation. Though seeing the pissed off expression on his face, you knew it wouldn't be that simple.

“I’m here to find out why that trash has contraband.” His scowl deepened as he threw a familiar jacket at you.

Scrunching your face in indignation you said. “How can a jacket be contraband. It doesn’t even have a zipper.”

He took a step closer to you. “How would you know that?”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head in disbelief. “He was cold during a recent check up. I gave it to him so he wouldn't get sick. It’s not my fault this place doesn’t care for it’s occupants.” Moving to step around him, you were surprised when he grabbed your arm.

“These people are scum. Sent here to rot until they die. Some deserve to just disappear all together.” His grip tightening the more hateful words that spilled out.

Getting as close as you felt necessary, your glare attempted to penetrate him. “While that may be your opinion, I find it to be quite the ignorant veiw. These people were sent here in hopes of bettering themselves. The staff are expected to help them on that path. But it seem some employees that aren’t suited for the task, have slipped through.“ You tried to wretch your arm free. Only to find that his hold had become achingly strong. Working to not let panic set in, you discreetly shuffled you hand into your medical bag.

“Well maybe if bitches like you would stop leading nice guys on. All while they were cozying up to monsters. I wouldn't have to do this.”

In one swift moment several dominos fell. He struck you across the face. While he paused to take in your reaction, you stabbed his cheeks with a scalpel. Before he could cry out, the cell door behind you both blew open. Where Waylon, who had heard everything, leapt from.

He descended upon the guard. At first he was seeing red from his rage. Then his body became red with the blood of the man who had dared to harm you. It wasn’t until you touched him that he came back to reality.

The alarms were blaring, so you had to raise your voice for him to understand you. “You have to get out of here.” Shoving the jacket in his arms, you pushed him towards a staff exit. “I’ll cover for you. Just get to this address.”

He looked down to what you were shoving into his hands. Your staff badge and license sat in his palms. Looking back at you in disbelief, he was at a loss for words. So he acted instead, bringing you in for a long passionate kiss. “Meet me there?”

You gave him a breathless nod and smiled. “Of course.”

#batman #chubby reader #killer croc #chubby reader x killer croc #blood #violence #flirting #mutual pining #medical #asylum

[nighthaterfrfr]

take a deep breath for me

1st request from @jben073 , grace getting overstimulated and steph comforting!

im no stranger to being overstimulated, but im still not sure how to write it as someone who im pretty sure is neurotypical?

so fair warning if its inaccurate, i tried pulling from peoples experiences and a bit of my own for grace.

anywho, lets get to it! a nighthater tumblr preview ig

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If someone had told Stephanie Lauter, reluctant daughter and overall "girl-who-doesn't-give-a-shit" that she'd have to help someone like Grace Chasity with being overstimulated, she'd look at the them confused and laugh in their face.

So how the fuck did she get into a situation like this?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ever since she's been hanging out with Pete, Grace, and the rest of the school's so-called "Nerdiest Prudes," most of them have been safe. Well, because of her and Jägerman. Even then, some people still harass the students often. Especially Grace. Yet today was a little different.

It's a rare occasion when Max Jägerman misses school. The boy rarely got sick, and his father never cared enough to take him anywhere besides school and football games. So whenever he's gone, the rest of the school preys upon the prudes. Today was also a good day to go after Hatchetfield High's resident preacher.

Grace has had a relatively rough day already. Her father ended up dropping her off late for homeroom and she's been behind in completing all of her assignments. Her mind's a mess since the Waylon Place, and it has not been treating her good.

On her way to her AP Biology class, two of Max's football friends had decided to smack the notebook she had held and laughed at her while she picked it up. One of them taunted, "Aww, what's the matter? You gonna cry to Jesus about it?" Usually, Grace would easily refute back at them with the very repetitive, "You will all be going to hell!" speech, but today she just let them continue. One more thing to add onto a massive, unstopping headache that left her agitated.

When she got to AP Bio, some of the cheerleaders were waiting there. They immediately took the notebook again, and tossed it over to the two originally picking on Grace. She was mad, but it felt odd. It felt like it was all too much. The louder they laughed, the more that Grace felt like she needed to get out of there and scream. The loud insults, the sun getting in her eyes, the bell ringing? It was all too much for Grace "Chastity Belt" Chasity.

Somehow, Steph was also in Grace's AP Bio period. She may be a bit misguided, but she's certainly not that stupid. Sure, it's almost a failing grade, but hey, a 63% is all right with the mayor's daughter. As she was once again late to her classes, she saw that people were once again, picking on Grace. Steph knows better, and she knows that Grace Chasity always wards people like that easy. However, seeing her run off, tears rolling down her face and a face that looks like she'll kill someone was a different situation.

The group of people teasing and making fun of Steph quickly left, and Steph went after the crying girl right after they left. Look, she's not one to help comfort people, but seeing one of her closest friends cry is her limit. Following Grace, she ended up in a storage closet in the school. Steph decided not to go in right after Grace, as to give her some time to relax a little.

"Oh gosh darn it!" Grace had been breathing heavily and shaking for quite a bit. She's obviously upset, but for what? She has no idea what in the world is causing this, and it seriously sucks! To be honest, this kind of thing would happen frequently with her, especially when she was younger, but it was never like this. Never where Grace Chasity would have to skip a class to calm down.

The smell of the wood in the room was a familiar sense. Shop Class, from her junior year. She always did like Mr. Houston the best as a teacher. Looking around, Grace's breathing slowing down and her temper cooling, she hears a knock at the door. She quickly backed away and considered hiding, but she knew she'd been caught.

"Chasity? You... you doing better? It's um, Steph. I just wanna check on you, that's all." The voice of Stephanie Lauter soothed her a lot more. Yet, it also scared her. The fact that Steph was also skipping Bio just to see how she was doing? It was charming. And really thoughtful, too.

Grace stood up and walked towards the door, letting Steph in as her notebook dropped on the ground. Steph quickly went to go pick it up as the two of them sat on the floor right by the door. Sitting shoulder to shoulder, the room was silent. Steph had no idea what to do in this situation, so she didn't talk or engage in anything with Grace unless she did it first.

Breaking the silence, Grace had began to ramble, saying, "I'm sorry Stephie, I just kind of freak out sometimes like that. I don't even know why I do this! I mean, I've been doing this since I was young, but I guess I've been repressing like my parents sa-" Steph quickly saw that her breathing got quick and her face was about to cry, so she stopped her, holding out a palm with one of her rings on the inside.

"Just take a deep breath, ok? It's fine, Grace. You're just here in the shop storage room, and- and it's clear that a lot is getting to you."

Steph may haven't been the quietest person, but she's a damn good observer. So much so, she knows that Grace loves to play with a ring whenever she has one on. Steph also knows that Grace frequently taps her foot in a very syncopated rhythm when nervous. She also knows that Chasity repeats the phrase "cool beans" as a way of motivating or calming herself down. Along with biting her nails when nervous, shaking her hands and almost spinning when she gets excited, and biting her tongue when confused.

Steph had quietly noticed all of these traits. Thought it would be no big deal until now. After all, it's just her friend Grace Chasity and all the little things she does.

Grace grabbed the ring, sighing as she puts it on her finger and fidgets with it. "How did you know I liked to do this, Stephie?" Grace asked her, causing Steph to twiddle her thumbs and looking elsewhere. She replied, "Oh, y'know. Just noticed it during AP Calc, I guess." Grace smiled slightly as she put her hands down, mumbling to herself.

"Stephie, do you know what autism is?" Steph looked at her, a bit off guard with the question. "Yeah, I do. How come?" Grace looked a bit nervous, trying to keep eye contact with Steph. "So- uh, I'm on the spectrum? I mean, I was diagnosed when I was younger, but I have just kind of been ignoring. My mommy and daddy says to just pray to God and hope it goes away, y'know. I've prayed and prayed everyday, pleading that I won't be so overwhelmed."

"So why won't it go away?"

Steph looked at Grace, her face filled with concern and a hint of confusion on how to answer a question like this. "Because... it's just a part of you. You've been denying you've been so overstimulated for a while, haven't you?" Steph asked, Grace nodding yes. "Um, I'm not on the spectrum, so I have no idea how you're feeling, Grace. However, I know that, if needed, I'm here for you. If you want, of course." Grace faces Steph fully, her attention on her as she smiles.

"Thanks, Stephie." Grace said, getting her notebook back from the other girl. Standing up, Grace looked around the storage room. SHe didn't want to go to the class, but she also knew that both Steph and herself would be in trouble if caught skipping. Trying to think about the possibilities for trying to hide in the room, Grace walked around.

Weirdly enough, the rows of plywood in the room comforted Grace, letting her think more. Maybe it reminded her of her favorite class, or her favorite class, or her favorite kid to babysit. Nonetheless, she knew that she couldn't be here for long. Breathing in deeply, she walked back to the door, opening it. Steph stood up, peeking out once Grace opened it slightly.

Thankfully, there was never many students that would skip a class so early in Hatchetfield High, so there are rarely any hall monitors in the school. Because of this, Steph and Grace quickly snuck out of the big storage room and returned back to their Biology class in the same hallway they were in. Steph held onto Grace's hand to reassure her and to remind that she has someone to rely on when something like this happens again.

After all that, Steph was still trying to make sure that Grace wasn't too overwhelmed with any of the classes they had together. From giving her one of her airpods to take a break from all the noise and instead listening to Steph's very explicit (and very good) playlist to helping isolate herself during a group activity if it seemed like too much.

Grace was very appreciative of this, and got even closer to Steph. Every time she'd get overwhelmed at school, somehow, Steph was there.

Even then, what's that feeling that Grace gets whenever she's around Steph?

Whatever- she's gotta cool her beans.

Cool, cool beans.

#npmd #grace chasity #stephanie lauter #lautity #starkid #steph lauter #stephgrace #hatchetfield #nerdy prudes must die #team starkid #holy shit #this fic is long #whatever #gay ppl #wlw #hatchetverse #hatchetblr

[a-single-tulip]

Star Wars OC List

Hey y'all! I know it's been a while since I've posted anything myself on here, but most writing I've been doing these days has mostly just been OC stuff in a server with my buddies, so I've decided to share my OCs with you guys <3

This includes both a mix of regular OCs (all of whom are from tcw era), as well as clone OCs!

I'll keep most of these descriptions pretty brief/to the point, so if any of y'all have any questions about any of these guys, feel free to hop into my inbox and ask away!

Dr. Waylon Vrand

Some of you might actually been familiar with Waylon, who was in the first fic I ever posted here! I actually posted a small origin story of sorts for him a bit ago, but to make a long story short:

Dr. Waylon Vrand, aged 22, is originally from a small village on the planet Dosuun (out in Wild Space, for those who didn't know), coming from a line of small-time family doctors, but moved out to Coruscant at the age of eighteen after receiving a scholarship for a medical academy there. If Mon Mothma can be a senator at 16, Waylon can be a doctor at a young age upon proving himself capable, do not perceive me

Feeling much like a fish out of water in a setting dominated by those with much higher prestige than him, Waylon found himself not exactly being all too up to socialize with his peers. Instead, he found friendship in an unexpected group, that being the clone troopers assigned to work with the medical academy.

Upon growing closer to graduating after enrolling in accelerated courses, he found himself studying and applying to work directly with the GAR as a medic specifically for clones, wanting to provide medical assistance for them on the front lines.

Following being officially instated as a medic for the GAR, he floated around wherever his assistance was required right up until he found himself assigned to Clone Force 99 for the remainder of the war.

Dr. Cais Varru

Dr. Cais Varru, aged 30, is a Zabrak originally from an Iridonian colony planet who works on Coruscant as a Psychiatrist, primarily doing work in Familial Affairs, and following the start of the war, he started doing VA work as well.

He moved to Coruscant at 24 following an experience that made him strongly desire a change of scenery, taking up a job far from home where he wouldn't be reminded of said incident.

Despite that though, he has a very calm temperament and remains in contact with his family consistently, and is very dedicated to the work he does in helping families displaced by the war, along with many troopers who find themselves desiring guidance.

Delilah "Dee" Murphy

Delilah "Dee" Murphy, aged 24, is a respectable journalist for the Coruscant Chronicle by day...graffiti artist by night.

Originally from the lower levels, after being left on her own at age 14, she found herself needing to support herself from a very early age. Now as an adult, she's made a relatively comfortable life for herself and prides herself on her career as bringing the truth to light in the work that she does.

That, however, doesn't make her immune to having her vices...with her primary one being her hobby in tagging buildings.

Though her identity when tagging remains anonymous, that doesn't mean that the Coruscant guard doesn't actively try to pursue her for her misdeeds.

Her primary tag is this guy below:

Wrench Ward

Wrench Ward, aged 28, is a mechanic in the lower levels of Coruscant working alongside her father in their family workshop, "Ward Family Repairs".

Following an incident that unfortunately claimed the life of her mother, she also lost part of her left arm up to the elbow at 8 years old. Following that, she was raised by her father and became well-acquainted with her way around fixing and repairing things.

Despite growing up on Coruscant, her father is actually originally from Dosuun, meaning she's also picked up his accent as well.

Wrench is just a nickname, but she'd rather die than tell anyone her real name that isn't someone close to her.

Sam Ward

okay...don't make fun of me, but this is his face claim:

Yup, that's right...Sam Elliott. Don't judge me, I named him before I decided on a face claim for him, and Sam Elliott being in Star Wars is just an inside joke between me and my friends now.

ANYWAYS

Sam Ward, aged 65, is the proprietor of Ward Family Repairs and the father of Wrench Ward. Originally from the planet Dosuun, he came to Coruscant as a young man to make a life for himself, which is where he eventually met his wife and later on had his daughter.

Following the loss of his wife and having to adapt to raising him daughter on his own, he dedicated himself to performing to the best of his abilities in providing for Wrench, and teaching her the skills she would need in working alongside him.

And now for Clone OCs

the next five clones listed below are actually all batchmates!

Commander Monroe

CT-1109, Commander Monroe, is a clone commander for the 428th High Corps (courtesy of @wizardofrozz <3), where they serve as troopers who escort doctors to refugee sites to provide medical assistance to injured civilians. Funnily enough, they work quite closely with the medical academies on Coruscant when they aren't off-world, so that in turn is how Monroe finds himself acquainted with Waylon of all people. The two of them became great friends following their first meeting.

During his time on Kamino, Monroe was solely dedicated not just to finishing the new training he'd been given upon proving himself to be further advanced than other cadets, but also making sure that his other batchmates made it off of Kamino at all. His brothers all had their own quirks and differences as cadets that were not entirely favorable to the Kaminoans, which made the prospect of being decommissioned a very real issue that they had to fight against. Monroe, as the eldest of his batch, made sure that nothing happened to them so that they could make it out and be able to serve the Republic.

Various things occur following Order 66 that unfortunately lead to him being one of the many clones on Mt. Tantiss...which then leads to him enduring various forms of experimentation that I'll elaborate on if anyone is interested at all in learning more about it.

Cupid

CT-1402, known as Cupid, serves as a trooper assigned to the Coruscant Guard. He earned his name due to his tendency to fall quite easily, along with his innate desire to set up people with one another in his free time. He's a very loving guy, and quite the social butterfly.

As a cadet, he was nearly decommissioned due to having a pacifistic nature when he was younger.

Jinx

CT-1713, known as Jinx, is a clone assigned to the 501st who specializes in working with demolitions. Ever the wildcard, he has quite a brash personality and earned his name due to how often he seems to get himself into some sort of trouble, typically learning to injuries that often lead to Kix lecturing him about being more careful. He happily leans into the whole "bad luck" thing, often teasing his fellow troopers by threatening to spread his bad luck onto them.

During a campaign at some point, he found an orphaned black tooka kitten that he secretly took in, much to his brother Snitch's chagrin who he begged and pleaded with not to tell on him (one of the FEW exceptions Snitch has ever made). Jinx appropriately named the tooka Eris, and that's where the paw prints on his armor came from.

He was nearly decommissioned as a cadet due to his reckless behavior and not being a team player.

Snitch

CT-2130, known as Snitch, was also assigned to the 501st much like his older brother Jinx but that's where their similarities end. Unlike his brother, he is a real stickler for the rules, having read the reg manuals cover to cover and is the sort to happily point out when someone is breaking the rules, and will even report on it. This doesn't exactly make him all too well-liked, but in his heart, in his own funny little way constantly worrying about the rules is his own way of showing he cares, something he has a hard time doing in a typical fashion.

As a cadet, he was part of a program that studied clone cadets showing signs of neurodivergency and would have been decommissioned if he had faltered in performance quality.

Beans

CT-4900, known as Beans, is the youngest of his batch and was assigned to the Coruscant Guard along with his older brother Cupid. Originally earning his name due to his high-energy personality making him much like a jumping bean, his name only grew to become even more appropriate once he developed a strong affinity for caf. Ever the excitable type, he's a chatterbox and will talk your ear off if you let him, with half of whatever he might be talking about being unintelligible due to how fast he talks if he's had too much caf.

As a cadet, he was nearly decommissioned due to him not meeting typical growth milestones and requirements on time, which earned him the nickname "Teenie Beanie" from his brothers when he was little.

Nimrod

CT-8250, known as Nimrod, is a shiny assigned to the Wolfpack that "affectionately" earned his name from @wizardofrozz's Sergeant Sawbones, due to the poor guy's tendency to make not-so-smart decisions without really thinking about whether or not he should even go through with such decisions in the first place. Got a stupid dare? He'll do it. Dumb plan of attack that definitely won't work? He didn't stay around long enough to hear the plan was stupid and is already getting himself into a predicament.

Boost and Sinker are the usual suspects when it comes to those who dare him to do something stupid, but despite all of their hazing, they love their dumb vod.

He's sweet as can be, despite how often he gets himself into shit.

Stretcher

CT-3880, known as Stretcher, is a clone medic for the 327th Star Corps. He earned his name due to a genetic mutation that ended up making him taller than most clones, at about 6 ft. 5 inches.

Personality-wise, he's relatively quiet and has a sort of intense "resting murder face", which can make him kind of intimidating to those who don't really know him when combined with his height and visible strength. The truth of it though, is that he's actually a sweetheart, he just has a hard time when it comes to talking to others who are new to him and can be kinda introverted.

When talking to others he's unfamiliar with, he comes off as direct/a bit deadpan (which is really just him feeling awkward around those unfamiliar to him, and trying his best to not mess up the interaction), but once you get to know him you can see the cracks in that initial demeanor. His fellow troopers of the 327th even know him as a little bit of a worrier when it comes to their well-being, a softy for his brothers.

When he's with them, taking care of them, his expression does actually soften just the teensiest bit while muttering about how they ought to be more careful and try not to get hurt again if it was something small, but that he's glad they're okay.

Aside from that though, he does a good job as a medic for his fellow troopers, and doesn't let his internal awkwardness impede his work in any way.

One notable thing is his friendship with Bly, who's probably one of the few people to get him comfortable enough to behave in a jovial manner, cracking a smile and revealing his dry humor.

No proper reference for him atm, but here is one for his general hairstyle/facial hair

Swindle and Hoodwink

CT-7777, known as Swindle, and CT-7878, known as Hoodwink. These troublesome twins get lumped together because they come as a pair...a pair of bastards, that is. Assigned as troopers to the 327th Star Corps, from their names along, you can guess how they got their names.

These two have been turning tricks since they were cadets on Kamino, making bets and rigging games to get what they want. After leaving Kamino, in their downtime, they found themselves hopping from bars and running scams on natborns and fellow clones alike to rake in credits.

On the surface, they like identical, which isn't a surprise since they're clones, but these two go out of their way to look exactly the same to a tee, with their armor painted with basic markings and their hair kept in standard reg cuts. A smart way to tell the difference between the two though is that Swindle has a gold-colored tooth just on the right side of his top row, while Hoodwink has a gold-colored helix piercing on his right ear of a horseshoe.

Under their armor though, they're pretty tatted up, which is how they express themselves.

Once you get to know the twins though, you can see through the persona that they put up, and they're a lot like night and day.

Hoodwink without Swindle is a little on the quieter, more introverted side, less likely to talk as much without him. He's patient, and a little more likely to be remorseful about tricking someone than his brother, a sweetheart at the end of the day who looks up to his older brother.

Swindle is cocky, full of himself, and gladly presents himself to be an asshole flirt who's ready to trick someone into practically giving their credits to him. Beneath all that though, you have a jaded clone who has a very limited amount of trust in others, who believes that in this galaxy it's solely him and his brother against everyone else.

Especially because he and Hoodwink were the only ones of their original batch that made it off of Kamino.

Those the pair do trust though are limited...they respect Bly enough to listen to him when he's being serious whenever he scolds them for getting in trouble, and they hold Aayla in very high regard because she treats them well.

Sources for references below:

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#tulips fics #original characters #star wars OC #clone OC #OC: Dr. Waylon Vrand #OC: Dr. Cais Varru #OC: Delilah “Dee” Murphy #OC: Wrench Ward #OC: Sam Ward #OC: CT-1109 Commander Monroe #OC: CT-1402 Cupid #OC: CT-1713 Jinx #OC: CT-2130 Snitch #OC: CT-4900 Beans #OC: CT-8250 Nimrod #OC: CT-3880 Stretcher #OC: CT-7777 Swindle #OC: CT-7878 Hoodwink

[project-walrider]

I apologize in advance for this (maybe pointless) rant and any spelling mistakes, I'm super tired but had to get this off my chest.

I'm trying my best to enjoy the Outlast fandom but lately I've started to feel kinda bitter about it. I'm very discouraged from continuing to upload anything despite enjoying sharing my ideas with everyone a lot. I know it wouldn't really matter because I'm just a very small artist here so it won't make a big difference. I would be sad at least since I've been in the fandom since the very beginning and have seen it grow over all this time.

Being able to interact with other fans, exchange ideas and create things together is something I absolutely love and I've made some amazing friends over our shared love for Outlast, too.

I've been in many different fandoms over the years and have seen them falling apart and the most ridiculous reasons for unnecessary drama. Fandom means a lot of different people share one space and naturally opinions, headcanons and ideas will be the absolute opposite from each other at times.

That goes for how people imagine the especially mostly faceless protagonists of this franchise, too. I personally don't think there's a right or wrong way to portray them as long as it doesn't hurt anybody and I welcome every single interpretation. It's a good thing so many interesting and diverse ideas come together.

For me personally the way the protags have developed with every new piece of art I drew of them over the years has been an incredible fun journey so far. They started out with just vague concepts in my head back then and over all this time more personal ideas, headcanons, impressions and also inspiration from many other fellow artists turned them into who they are right now.

Waylon started out with blue eyes, a completely different face, a short dark brown buzz cut and no freckles at all, I also adapted the headcanon about his Korean origin because it made a lot of sense to me. He has come such a long way and I want to keep going because a lot of neurodivergent folks here probably understand what a comfort character can mean to someone.

Miles has followed me through the time of realizing I am trans to the point where I chose him even as the name I want to live for the rest of my life with.

I got attached to Waylon as well and for some reason I started to deeply project on him as a character. That includes picturing him as transmasc, seeing in him a lot of the anxiety I've struggled with my whole life so far and feeling a certain detachment from my own roots (I'm adopted, I don't know anything about my original background).

I know no one can take that away from me and it's impossible for everyone in a fandom to get along or agree with each other. What I wish for is just some mutual respect for each other and the vast variety of creativity here.

Let each other enjoy Outlast and if there's something you don't agree with, just move on and look at content that makes you happy. Being kind and a decent person costs you nothing, it's not that hard. Curate this space into a fun one for you, create your own little bubble of people you're comfortable with but let those you don't agree with live too and have a good time.

That's what I will try at least from now on. If you made it through this whole rant thank you for taking the time and listening ♡

#miles // vent

[jagged1]

Ever Changing, Ever Constant

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Gen Characters: Waylon Park/Eddie Gluskin. Mentions of Eddie's family. Summary: Fae!Waylon meets child Eddie and things change. Contains: Mentions of canonical child abuse. Character Death. Word Count: ~1700 AO3 Link

He knows these woods. He knows every rock, branch, leaf, hill, and creature in them. They may not be "his" in any true way, but woe betide whoever disturbs their peace. His power is limited in this world of man, but it is more than enough to deal with anyone foolish enough to enter his domain with malicious intent. He does not hesitate to end threats to those he feels deserve his protection.

His brethren find him odd, but he cannot change his nature any more than the tides can stop following the pull of the moon. So he lives on the fringes of his world, spending only as much time as necessary there, and instead chooses to sequester himself away in the mortal realm. There is something beautiful in how fleeting and ever changing it is, that contrasts so heavily with all he has known. He finds the minor cost of his power to intervene more than worthy of the things he may experience in return.

And no mortal should dare disturb his peace without paying the price. The insult alone warrants his intervention; deal or no deal.

-

Eddie has always loved the woods. The trees have always protected him. His mama told him, if he is kind and respectful to the forest, he will always have a place within its reach. He believes it with all his heart and loves nothing more than to spend his days wandering amongst the trees. He never feels alone there.

He needs that now. He needs to know that someone is there for him as he stumbles his way further and deeper than he’s ever gone before, the trees growing taller and thicker with every step. He can’t stop crying and everywhere his dad and uncle touched him hurts.

He hopes they won't follow him into the woods. He hopes whoever's watching will keep him safe like always. He hopes so much, he's crying from pain and sadness and just wanting so hard that it hurts.

Eddie keeps going for what feels like hours until he finally finds a pond, surrounded by reeds and covered with lilypads and flowers. It looks so pretty he can't help the gasp of awe he makes. Slowly, he makes his way to the edge and gently dips his fingers into the water, swirling it slowly, watching the way it ripples against all the life in it.

He feels a soft breeze float by and a tingle against his skin that feels like the way lightning feels in the air. He shivers and looks up, afraid it's going to start storming, but instead looks right into bright, glowing, gold eyes.

He freezes in surprise, eyes widening and mouth falling open slightly before he remembers his manners and snaps it shut. He can't stop staring though, but he thinks that's okay. He's never seen anyone like this before, with their long black hair, even longer than his mama's, glowing eyes, and big dragonfly wings fluttering behind them. They're crouched down to meet his eyes, but that doesn't stop Eddie from noticing they're floating over the water, bare feet just skimming the surface of it.

"What are you doing here all alone, little one?" They ask, voice soft as feathers and light as stars.

Eddie swallows, mouth suddenly dry. "I'm hiding," he whispers.

"And what are you hiding from?"

“My dad and uncle…"

A pale hand reaches out to graze his bruised cheek and Eddie braces himself for more pain. A moment passes, but instead of pain, he feels his skin heat up, the tingle of lightning brushing against him before all the soreness disappears. It flows over him, until nothing hurts anymore.

"Are they the ones who did this to you, little one?"

He nods, awestruck at the kind, beautiful, magical being in front of him. His mama told him stories about creatures beyond their world, but he never thought he'd meet one.

"Do you think they will come for you, so deep into the forest?"

Eddie shrinks at the thought of them barging after him, ruining everything. "Yes…" he whispers again, so quietly that he barely feels the word leave his mouth.

"Do you want me to stop them?"

"...yes…"

They nod. "Stay here, little one."

"Eddie."

They purse their lips, brows furrowing. "Little one, you should not give your name so freely. Do you not fear what I could do with it?"

Eddie hesitates before answering. "You're helping me... I don't have anything to give you except my name. And…" He fidgets, looking away for a second before turning back. "I think… I think you've been watching out for me, so I need to give you something."

They're silent for a moment, before nodding slowly, like they're understanding something for the first time. "Do not do it again." They stand in a swirl of green, flowing fabric, before disappearing without a sound.

-

He makes it quick, but not painless. Children are so precious; anyone who can hurt them like that has no place in his woods.

He sneers at the mortals, at how disgusting and weak they are, begging for mercy when all he has done is give the same pain he healed from the child to them, albeit amplified a few times in his anger.

They scream in agony, but his woods are deep and his power thick and strong enough to keep the sound controlled. The little one may have made this deal, but that does not mean he needs to know how it was carried out. When they finally fall silent, eyes clouded and frozen over, he vanishes the bodies towards the edge of the forest, where someone else may find them and deal with them. He has a child to see to.

-

Eddie thinks he should be sadder about his dad and uncle dying, but then he remembers how hurt he felt and how kind they were and doesn't feel bad at all. He spends even more time in the woods, visiting as much as he can. Even if he doesn't see them, he's just happy to be there, feeling the safety and comfort of their magic wrapped around him.

Years pass and he still has no name to call them, but he would never dare to ask. They haven't used his name either, calling him "little one" even as he grows bigger and taller than they are. It's strange to be so large and yet feel so small. If it was anyone else, he might be upset, but this feels right.

One day, when he arrives, they're already waiting for him, a detached look on their face. "Little one," they call out. "Do not return for three years."

Eddie feels as if he's been struck, his chest growing tight. "Have I done something wrong?"

They shake their head, eyes softening slightly. "No, little one, you have not. But you do not know and do not understand the choice you are making. You must go and learn and only then may you choose."

"Choose what, I don't understand."

"And that is why you cannot stay."

Eddie makes a frustrated noise, never having gotten used to the riddles they speak in.

"Go, little one. And if you wish to return, you may."

Eddie doesn't understand at all, but he knows that tone of finality in their voice and knows asking any more questions will get him nowhere, might only anger them instead.

"I will come back."

"That remains to be seen."

-

He misses his little one, but does not dwell on it. He is mortal and mortals are ever changing.

-

At first, Eddie struggles against their command. The desire he feels to see them again is overwhelming. He focuses his energy on anything he can, just to distract himself from it.

Slowly, he finds new things he loves, rediscovers old ones, and finds himself making new friends. It eases the ache he feels until he almost forgets about it entirely. That hollow space in his chest becomes something he can hardly remember what it was like to live without.

His friends go and find love, but he is never interested in anyone. One night, one of them asks if he's waiting for someone.

"What makes you think that?" Eddie asks.

"The way you look sometimes, when no one's watching. You get this faraway expression and always face the same direction. Must be something important, but don't know if it's a someone."

Eddie pauses. He's very purposefully not thought of them in years, afraid he'll return before he's allowed. But somewhere, he lost track of time and has already stayed away for longer than the ordered three years. He pales, standing up quickly. "I have to go."

He barely hears his friends call after him as he runs out the door.

-

The light of the moon shines onto the pond, a shining backdrop to the flora and fauna within. He is melancholy tonight and focuses on the way the fish swim lazily throughout the water.

A familiar thudding cadence reaches his ears even as his magic reaches out to surround his little one. "You have returned."

"I'm sorry I'm late," Eddie pants. "I think I finally understand. I love you and want to be with you, more than anything else."

"Do you truly understand what that means, little one? This is ancient magic that will take everything you know and love. It cannot be undone."

"But it will give me what I want the most. The price is fair."

He smiles, extending a hand towards him. "Then come, Eddie. We have much to do."

Eddie goes, helpless in more ways than one. The sound of his name in their voice is a stronger pull than any power his name holds. They blink away to the feywild, where the ancient magic resides.

The process is long and painful, but Eddie can feel himself becoming lighter and heavier at once as he slowly loses his mortality. The weight of his limited time is gone and in its place, a vast well of power courses through him. He feels his own set of wings grow and is surprised to see they're a beautiful pair of butterfly wings.

"You have chosen great change, my little one."

"Yours?"

"Yes. You were mine ever since you gave me your name, but I would never take the choice from you." A small gesture, one Eddie recognizes as the one for sound manipulation. He leans in close, until his lips are brushing against Eddie's ear. "You may know me as Waylon."

Eddie’s heart soars and it feels like coming home.

#outlast #outlast whistleblower #eddie gluskin #waylon park #weddie #my fic #my writing

[soopkreem]

Oooo I read your hcs on Jeremy and Waylon dynamic and a bit of an idea sorta came up, it’s a little unrelated but… Do you think Jer would see Miles as some sort of replacement for Waylon and try to go after him? I feel like it becomes way too obsessive and it scares off Miles (but Jer doesn’t see it that way, he’s just gone into incel mode bc of everything that’s happened with his past relationships so far, like ‘why do you all leave me????’) or something lol

TLDR: It could happen! But I have my reasons AND I DONT KNOW HOW TO STOP RAMBLING IM SO SORRY ANON

That could happen if we're taking the desperate route hahaha though I feel like Miles can replace Rick rather than Waylon, since they're both kinda similar, in a way. So basically RickJer is the rich and spoiled version of camerashipping.

So, if the thing with Miles really happens, I think he'd just give everything up and put up a thick wall and just do something by himself. It's up to Miles if he wants to get closer to him or not (huge possibility by the way, Miles is just THAT adamant sometimes, mainly because Jer is a former one of the leaders of a shady transnational company, and he wants to know more about Murkoff)

It's too long so I'm going to place the details of Jer's feelings about Rick and Way under the cut!

So, to put it simply following this anon's question...

It's nothing climatic tbh. He doesn't lash out or anything like that. It's just... When you knew a person would do something bad to you before they do it, and the thing really happens in the future, you feel almost numb about them. It’s juft poof all the positive and even negative feelings are gone. “I’m not surprised, but I’m still mad” kinda feeling?

He's met people with various personalities, he can predict how people would react and act based on their personalities alone. He knew Waylon would actually send the emails (he just didn't expect worse stuff will happen as well). It's almost like he has no energy to even be mad about it lol but he still wants it to be hurt as much as his efforts were gone to waste (to understand this, please read my ramble under the cut, I'm sorry,,,), so he's being petty about it,,

"Somebody's been telling stories outside of class. Mr. Waylon Park, consulting contract 8208. Software engineer with a level 3 security clearance. Graduated cum laude from Berkley, but still somehow not smart enough to realize that the last thing a fly ought to do in a spider's web is wiggle. Somehow dumb enough to think that a borrowed laptop, onion router, and firewall patch would be enough to fool the world's leading supplier of biometric security. Stupid, Mr. Park. More than stupid, in fact, that was crazy."

LIKE ITS KINDA FUNNY IF YOU THINK ABOUT HIS DIALOGUES THAT WAY. I'd love to imagine that he was genuinely surprised Waylon actually attempted to send them through a shitty plan, it was insane, so at the same time he's laughing at Way's attempt while the actual person is terrified senseless on the floor. akjaksdjkad

I think a lot about Jer and it's really embarrassing......

My take on him is pretty boring and weird, I guess? Jeremy never actually... Feel the need to befriend/love someone, he didn't expect to have one so soon - it was just that Rick and Waylon happened to be people who were close to him, so he made some efforts into their relationship, expected something more from them in return, since he trusted them. Rather than mourning over people who betrayed him, he's frustrated over the things he had sacrificed in exchange for their companionship; All the money, all the covering efforts, all the emotions, the sentiments, etc, etc, are all wasted on people like them. It's not like he's close close with them either, they're pretty much just friends with benefits to putting it in summary lol

One of my friends described it so much better but unfortunately I don't remember how he worded it so bear with me anon I'm sorry, When Jeremy watches as Rick was sent to the engine, he doesn't feel sad. Rick wasn't his friend, but he feels like something is missing - something about it made him feel betrayed - probably betrayed by himself... Even the feeling itself disturbs him because even he couldn't pinpoint what was causing it. It's between "I'm completely fine even if you die" and "I wish you were here" to put it simply. I know I'm sorry if your brain exploded there,,, emotions are complicated tbh

So... it's not really like Jer isn't capable of human emotions, but rather, it's more complicated because he views emotions as something to be suppressed because they can weaken you. Showing emotions makes him vulnerable, thus making him pile up emotions and complicates stuff because he doesn't even understand himself.

My god its 3 am rn i hope im at least making sense,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,

#replies #anon #outlast hc #kt: jeremy blaire #kt: waylon park #kt: richard trager #kt: outlast

[creacherkeeper]

3, 14, 28, 40, and 66? also 69 except how would she describe the lost party. FOR LIZZIE

3. what is their goal right now?

to figure out literally any way she can protect divine or keep her safe. divine is going like. the one place she can't follow and things are happening that neither of them understand and lizzie just wants a way to be Useful but is kind of floundering. she's strong and she's smart and neither of those are as useful as lizzie being There With Her and she's not happy about that

14. what is something they love about themself?

lizzie very much prides herself on her intelligence and frankly not much else. being smart has gotten her out of a lot of trouble but its. gotten her Into a lot of trouble too

28. who would they kill? who would they kill for?

this is a very complicated question. she would have to be so extremely pressed in order to do something like that because she's simply never taken a life before and doesn't know if she could

40. do they enjoy poetry?

i think she does. i think she understands subtly and she understands sometimes the best way to say something is by not saying it at all

66. who makes them feel warm?

right now, definitely scruggs and kelsey, though she would be hard pressed to admit it. colter on rare occasion he's genuine and isn't acting like an ass. and i think divine definitely has a high chance to Start but for so long has just made her feel so !!!!???? and keyed up and Confused and Flustered that like. warmth is such a calm emotion compared to how she feels around divine. but i think yes once they start like. acclimating to each other

69. how would they describe their party members?

cass - i think lizzie really respects cass but also has every intention of giving her her distance. they didn't exactly have a great relationship because cass didnt know why lizzie wasnt trying harder to find virginia's killer and now that it's out in the open lizzie doesnt want to be like. yeah sorry for not telling you? so it's just Messy. but cass is like. a respectable business owner and staple of the town who keeps a lot of the local troublemakers in check so lizzie like. does appreciate her from afar

maeve - maeve is. an odd case to lizzie. because she's not working with the official house. and is definitely too smart for her own good at gathering information and putting things together. but she doesn't necessarily?? cause trouble?? so lizzie is Suspicious of like. what she's using this info for. but isn't going to do anything about it if maeve doesnt

morel - lizzie has her ear to the ground and knows morel does good work as a healer. she has like. Some loyalty to dr clark just as a fellow devotee of sidewinder but also. knows he's a fucking ass who doesn't help a lot of the more vulnerable people. and now that cat and kitten are living with morel too and clearly trust them very much, and morel is trying to integrate into the town more, i think she like. cautiously trusts them but just doesn't know them very well and doesn't like that. lizzie likes knowing everything all the time

will - her brothers cringefail boyfriend. okay joke but. she was Not On Board with waylon bringing in will to kill brandi and he did earn some points with her for not doing that and also (attempting to) tell off waylon for it. him being a mercenary does not sit right with her but scruggs has told her many good things. so she's like. he makes you happy but he's on thin fucking ice. she doesnt love how fast scruggs and will are moving

divine - confusing but hopeful. it's just Messy when you've been secretly in love with someone for years after not knowing you can feel romantic attraction but also they're married and then you arrest their brother out of frustration because they yelled at you in front of everyone about something that was actually you doing a good thing but there was no way for them to know that and then you kind of get together but cautiously except you also dont know how serious its gonna be because you dont know they know youre apart of a very hated minority group and simply dont know how to drop that bomb and also youre both girls. and paladins now. and you just want to kiss but their god made them a soldier without asking. and now theyre going to your homestate that you absolutely cannot go back to and you cant tell them why. does that answer the question. because it doesnt for lizzie. girl is going insane

onion - you know the aunt who your siblings and dad are way closer to and you just kind of have an awkward relationship with them and dont really like each other much but dont want to be a bitch so you just dont say anything but then come across like a bitch anyway. yeah.

#LIZZIE MY BABYGIRL LIZZIE #thank you <333 here is The Scoop on ur gf #lost township #lizzie losttownship

[silverdecepticon93]

Hey hey hey ik I'm like super early but what ab a ex batkid (who kinda got the jason Todd treatment) and is now hanging around/being taken in by killer croc, bane , riddler hcs please

Aka, people who have the most dad energy-

Killer Croc + Ex! Bat Kid:

- You fought Waylon as a Bat Kid but you weren't like the others who called him "Lizard Lips", "Ugly", "Scaly" and other childish taunts. You were gentle to him and you showed more compassion than the rest.

- I honestly think that even before your death, you hung out with Waylon a lot or at least tried to outside of fighting. You'd visit him in Arkham, you'd ask how he was doing that day, and scold other people who insulted him. He wasn't sure why but you just seemed to comfortable around him.

- That's why the news of your death was hard on him, because you were so young and so good, and yet you had to die. He respectfully tried to lay off crime after your death, mostly just stealing for necessity and committing a few acts of self-defense, but other than that, he did try to stop. In your honor.

- When he sees you again, he's shocked but he's also concerned as you stumble into the sewers afraid and scared, your old hero suit was tattered, and your eyes were wide and terrified. His first instinct is to take care of you and calm you before he interrogates you about what happened. You clutch onto him and cry and tell him your horrible story, how a mission went terribly wrong and you got trapped and your family didn't even bother to come back for you, that one moment you were dead and the next you weren't. Hes sympathetic and he validates you as he holds you and rocks you like a father would their child.

- Obviously you have beef with your family and while Waylon won't go out of his way to make them pay, since what's done is done, he will stop them from trying to force you to come home or try to deter them from bugging you. Hissing when Damian tries to justify to you what happened, knocking back Bruce when he tries to forcefully bring you back home, and everything.

- He does want you to reconcile with them but also, he thinks they should prove themselves worthy of a second chance because they literally left you to die, by accident or not.

- He also doesn't mind the new company you bring to his sewers and is pretty happy you make yourself at home right away. You hang up posters, you have a cool futon, he stole a few things like an electrical generator for lights for you (he's sorta accustomed to seeing in the dark) and you both do your best to make it home.

- If you wanna be a vigilante, thats fine. Croc knows you still have your streak of running into danger without thinking of yourself but know that he will protectively be with you and/or try to follow you around as best he can. He won't let you down and his biggest fear now is that he makes the same mistake as your other family.

- Will literally go feral if someone hurts you super badly you need to visit the hospital. Hes also there to comfort you when you think about what happened to you, he'll hug you and tell you it isn't your fault, he'll comfort you when you have nightmares. He also totally has a tendency to just nurse whatever injuries you have, he knows nothing about medicine but he'll try his damndest to be something of a family to you, because that's what you are to him.

Bane + Ex Batkid:

- He honestly probably tried to recruit you a lot when you two fought. Kinda like how Ra's admires Tim but less creepy and more parental. Whenever you two faced off as enemies, he didn't hold back but he voiced his admirance for you and your abilities.

- The little one is rather fierce no?

- But seriously Bane loves kids so much and when he heard about what happened to you, HE WAS SO READY TO BREAK THE BAT ALL OVER AGAIN. He had ONE job and it was to keep YOU safe and he failed. Bane makes it very clear to Bruce that it was him who should've died that day and not you.

- When you come back to Gotham, you know you can't just go back to your "family", not after what they did. So you go to the one person who you kinda considered a friend, and he was more than happy to take you in.

- Bane is an EXCELLENT mentor and parental figure. He not only hires the bests therapists or tries to find helpful ways of you coping with your whole "dying and coming back to life" situation, but he's geniunely concerned with the little things about you too. Are you eating enough? Are you sleeping enough?

- If you're not living with him and kinda are just hanging around, expect him to want to check in on you 24/7 or have his men keep their eyes on you and report back to him. Like if they tell him you're not eating enough and you go to your apartment or current place of residence, and there's Bane with some homemade food and he gives you a stern look and is all: "I know you've been skipping meals."

- Then you're left eating in your place as he scolds about the mess while picking up said mess and organizing things and you just smirk and roll your eyes.

- "Who knew the big bad Bane was such a clean freak?"

- "Or maybe it is just because you are a slob, little one, this is why you should stay with me because it is not healthy for one so young to be without discipline and structure-"

- You contrast with his serious and stoic demeanor, being all care free and chill but he also senses that great pain within you. He used to feel that during is time in Peña Duro, that feeling of your father abandoning you and having to live with that pain and dissapointment. He had to fight for everything because no one fought for him, he'll be sure that you won't have to do the same.

- If you want to be a hero or anti-hero, fine, just promise that you'll tell him when you're hurt or that you need help. You've become more than a potential protégé for him, you've become something of a child.

- You and Scandal Savage complaining about your loving adopted father figure but beating the shit out of anyone else who bad mouths him-

- But yeah, no, when he sees Batman: IT WILL BE ON SIGHT and you and your former family may not see eye to eye but you all can't help but find it entertaining when the dads are fighting.

- He also doesn't mind you reconciling with your family but fair warning, just because you choose to forgive them, HE WON'T. The moment they come in, they can see that Bane's eyes behind his mask are following them as if saying: "You hurt them, I break your spine in half like a toothpick."

- Also if you suffer from nightmares or night terrors, I can totally see Bane doing his cute little fatherly assurance he did in Secret Six where he let's you lay on his lap and gently assures you nothing bad will happen to you as long as he's there to protect you.

The Riddler + Ex Bat Kid:

- Unlike Waylon and Bane, EDWARD HATED YOU MORE THAN THE REST OF THOSE COSTUMED BRATS. HELL, HE PROBABLY HATED YOU MORE THAN BATMAN.

- You were so snarky all the time, answering his riddles without having to look them up and teasingly saying: "Is that the best you've got?" Or the annoying way you would easily hack into his CAREFULLY created programs and systems and mess them up with your stupid memes and stuff. You didn't even call him The Riddler, you called him Eddie! LIKE, AT LEAST HAVE SOME RESPECT FOR HIM.

- However during your time together, he did grow quite fond of you. You were like him, he found out, the smartest of your family and not afraid to show it but you were kinda singled out because you were to insufferable to them with your big ego and your tendency to always remind them whose the cleverest out of this clever bunch. So when he heard news about you dying, he became sad.

- He missed the old taunts and the way you mocked him, when he committed crimes he half heartedly wished you'd show up again and call him Eddie and then he'd lecture you on respecting your elders only to be painfully reminded that you were no longer around. He became even more cruel to Batman in his traps and mazes, after all, he let a brilliant mind slip out of this world.

- Yet when you break into one of his bases, casually mock him as he enters the base to check out what triggered the security like nothing changed between you two, he once more feels that mix of frustration and endearment he always kinda had towards you.

- "Yeesh, you look older, Eddie."

- "And you look like you died and went through hell, kid."

- "Eh, something like that."

- You don't really live with Eddie, which he's fine with, he doesn't need a little annoying brat like you poking around his place but he also isn't opposed to when you break in and make yourself at home in there either.

- He can't protect you from Batman or your family if they try to track you down, not with his noodle arms, but he can help you make it harder for them to track down. Not that you'd need much of his help, you're sharp on your own.

- Your ego, however, has actually kinda taken a blow. You were left for dead, even if on accident, and when you come back, they didn't seem to make a big deal out of it and it hurt. Edward understands this low self esteem and he tries to build it up again. So what? They don't know what they're missing! You're still smarter than them! You're still better than them! And you kinda thank him for it.

- He does check in on you and scold you if you aren't taking care of yourself, which is redundant considering this is EDWARD NYGMA we are talking about here. So you two take it upon each other to try and keep each other on track. You're solving cases non stop, he shows up at your house with some take out and eats with you because he's knows you haven't been eating much.

- You find him asleep at his desk and you scoff and shake your head as you carry him to bed and then you doodle on his plans a little, adding helpful notes while also low-key making sure they're insulting.

- "You should move the angle at least 67 degrees, any idiot can see that- Love, (Y/n)."

- Either way, you guys do help each other and do let each other live their lives, he's not gonna dictate what you do and play parent, but he is at least gonna make sure you don't die again. Whether its literal or a reference to the fact you neglect yourself as much as him.

#Bane x reader #Eduardo Dorrance x reader #The Riddler x reader #Edward Nygma x reader #Killer Croc x reader #Waylon Jones x reader #Dc x reader #dc x you #Gotham Rogues x reader #Gotham Rogues x you #Tbh THIS WAS SUPER TO WRITE!♡ #THANKS FOR YOUR REQUEST ANON!♡

[dercolaris]

Eleonora

Here you go, @temarcia - already done and translated. Scriddler of course. It’s extremly sad, but welp, I can’t help it. Sort of my style tbh. 

Thanks again to @shin-arei for helping me with the translation <3

The fitting song:

https://youtu.be/ZzqTGTAuzLw

Uhm, yeah.. Have fun everyone.. 

The faint rustling of the wind slipped through the leaks in the dirty window, filling the small room with an unusual background noise. Jonathan lay completely motionless on the soft mattress, just listened to the fascinating sounds around him and registered slightly light-headed how the environment around him slowly changed. He blinked a few times against the persistent darkness, then smiled dejectedly. Basically, those noises were all he had left. As much as the former psychiatrist wished, his eyesight would never return. Hoping for it was a waste of time. The thin man turned on his side and ran his right hand over the velvety fabric of the bedspread. It tickled slightly, leaving an almost pleasant tingling sensation on his demolished skin. The brown-haired man mumbled to himself: "One would think that I would have got used to this eternal darkness, but to say this would be a bold lie." The Master of Fear sighed softly. Speaking his thoughts out loud at least gave him the deceptive impression that someone was right by his side and would give a meaningful answer after a while.

The reality was of course different. That longed-for answer would probably never come. He was a prisoner of his own nightmare and every attempt to break out of it failed miserably due to the fact that no one could turn back time. There was no hope. No light. Just darkness. Jonathan dug his fingers deeply into the warming fabric, burying his face in the comfortable pillow under his head. His body began to tremble by itself. The former psychiatrist didn't really mind the chilling temperature around him, but that evening the coldness held him in her icy hands. A stranglehold he couldn't really escape. The thin man suddenly felt a single tear find its way over a multitude of scars on his cheek and slowly slide down. He wiped his cool skin quickly. This whiny behavior was more than unacceptable for a seasoned academic like him. A thickening lump in his throat, however, indicated that all his efforts to stand against his feelings would fail at some point that night. You could ignore the sadness, banish it, deny it, curse it - in the end it would surface and lead to a downright collapse. With this in mind wasn't it actually wiser to give in to this inner urge to show emotional weakness? Now that he was alone?

The brown-haired man sat on the edge of the bed and put his hands on his knees. A few seconds passed without anything happening, brought a frightening realization for the criminal. He couldn't cry. Jonathan clenched his knees. No more tears would come. He couldn't really give his feelings the needed space, even if it would give him some relief in his troubled soul. It just didn't work. The spiral of thoughts in his mind was spinning again without ceasing. His left hand slid sideways into his straw-like hair and held the heavy head uncertainly on his thin fingers. He chewed his lower lip almost helplessly, staring at the floor with his blind eyes. The Master of Fear was about to rise from the bed when he heard a suspicious noise from the corridor. Out of habit, his opals looked at the door, or at least roughly in its direction. His brain still pretended to recognize shadows and outlines that he had seen sometime before the incident. Well-known places were impressively reconstructed from his memory. It doesn't matter whether these have changed drastically in the meantime.

This often led to unexpected difficulties in his orientation. In general, the familiar gave him security, and every novelty around him immediately stumbled him. The former psychiatrist listened into the darkness. Was it possible that he had just misheard? Quiet steps in the hallway quickly ruled out this possibility. Despite the noises, the gaunt man felt no fear or discomfort. He didn't own anything of value in his apartment and if a homeless person was content to use his nearly empty refrigerator, it shouldn't matter to him anymore. The brown-haired man had stopped eating two weeks ago. His hunger had long since passed and this circumstance made it at least possible for him to stay in his home. Nothing would be worse than wandering around outside Gotham in his wrecked condition to the amusement of all the gleeful people on the streets. The former psychiatrist pressed a hand to his cramping stomach. Even if the stomach occasionally rebelled, in the end it gave up constantly crying out for food. Most likely, the organ knew that this would remain just a wish and that nutrients would no longer force their way into the esophagus.

The pain slowly subsided. A cold wind played around his bony figure. The Master of Fear had long since decided on a quick way out of life and it was only a matter of time before death would knock on his door. It wasn't the plan to actually go the long road of starvation, but as long as he didn't know exactly how to do it, there was at least the hope of not waking up one morning due to lack of energy. The steps in the corridor came slowly closer and suddenly fell silent on the other side of the door. The thin man waited cautiously. The screeching of the hinges snuggled painfully against his ears, signaling that someone was entering the room. There was a thud, and then - silence. Suddenly it had become so quiet. Where was the wind? Where were the cracking branches? Where were the ravens in the tree tops? Jonathan looked around, disoriented, looking in the dark for the unannounced visitor.

After a while he heard the unusually low voice of an old friend: “Hey John. Don't worry, yeah. It's just me.” The former psychiatrist tried to fake a smile. Slight goose bumps crept down his back and gradually spread over his skin. He looked in the direction of the visitor and spoke in an alarming weak voice: "Edward. What a pleasant surprise. I'm very happy to see you again.” Those words hurt more than he expected. The former psychiatrist closed his eyes and heavily swallowed his emerging emotions. He heard the quiet steps again. Suddenly the tinkerer sat down next to him, the mattress gave way under the weight of the black-haired man. The Riddler breathed evenly, a long-forgotten warmth emanating from his body. The younger one finally spoke calmly: “You can hardly talk about seeing me again, right? I heard what happened and, yeah, how should I say that. I'm sorry, John.” The Master of Fear shrugged his shoulders slightly. Before he could reply, the other went on quietly: “I wasn't sure whether I should really come over or not. I mean, after the whole Waylon thing, you suddenly distanced yourself from everything and everyone and stopped showing yourself in public. Fuck, the underground has already made bets on whether you are dead or not."

The lean man laughed dryly at this message. He shuddered from the surrounding cold and had the strong impulse to take refuge in the warm embrace of the inventor. Contrary to his wishes, he replied exhausted: “I hope you were right with your bet. As you can see, I'm still alive.” To his astonishment, Edward didn't react calmly as usual. He didn't seem to be particularly amused by the statement. As if to confirm, the black-haired man hissed under clenched teeth: “It's not funny at all, John. Seriously. I just got half a shock when I walked in the door. You got so damn thin. Is there anything left at all? Only skin and bones it seems. When was the last time you ate something?” The former psychiatrist pressed his lips tightly together and stared at the floor in dismay. There was an awkward silence. Suddenly the older man felt the hand of the inventor on his. The Riddler slowly put his fingers around his, warmed his chilled skin. Even without his eyesight, the Master of Fear knew that the other was staring at him, waiting for answers.

He finally replied hesitantly: "I'm fine Edward. I don't need any help.” Both knew that this claim was nothing more than a lie. The younger one tightened the grip on his hand and didn't seem to let go of it again. Jonathan only shivered harder. The contrast between the inviting warmth of the black-haired man and his dying body increased with every passing second. He really wanted to be close, but at the same time there was a nagging fear of rejection. A monster like him was no longer allowed to receive affection. The tinkerer grumbled sourly: “You can fool the rest of the world, John, but not me. Should I put a funnel in your mouth and stuff you with food until you have some meat on your ribs again? Or would you prefer a cursed feeding tube? Your fucking decision.” The brown-haired man winced noticeably. He knew that he had always meant a lot to the younger man. Probably more than he wanted to admit.

There was a deeply hidden passion between them that had grown with each meeting in the past and almost exploded before his imprisonment. Only their worthless pride had prevented them from giving in to their lust in the end. But this was once upon a time. Jonathan was more than certain that the inventor had only come to him out of pity and would now look around for a more handsome partner. After all, the inventor wasn't exactly unattractive. Edward suddenly sighed softly and seemed to be reaching for something on the floor. Probably his shoulder bag. The black-haired man spoke calmly: “I brought you something. You have told me often enough that you love Edgar Allan Poe and that I should read something from him when I got the chance. I followed your advice.” With these words he put an arm around the older man and pulled him closer to his chest. He gasped in surprise, but did not evade the embrace.

He could hear the Riddler open a book and slowly turn the pages. Jonathan's heart suddenly began to beat faster. A few seconds passed before the younger one finally started reading aloud: "Eleonora by Edgar Allan Poe from 1842. I am come of a race noted for vigor of fancy and ardor of passion." The inventor's voice lit up the room with its soft sound, penetrating like a light through the darkness. The Master of Fear listened carefully. An indefinable feeling spread in his soul, touched him at points that he believed he had lost for a long time. Each additional line of the short story carried the gaunt man on, taking him to places he had avoided out of fear. Places of memories. Mostly memories of better times.

Tears pooled in his gray eyes, slowly running down his cheeks and falling unchecked off his chin. Edward, however, just read on, bravely struggled through the sometimes difficult formulations. "… for the Spirit of Love reigneth and ruleth, and, in taking to thy passionate heart her who is Ermengarde, thou art absolved, for reasons which shall be made known to thee in Heaven, of thy vows unto Eleonora.” The Riddler finished the short story, carefully closed the book. He apparently put it aside and finally wrapped his other arm tightly around the trembling figure beside him. The former psychiatrist cried silently, his weak fingers clutching the black-haired man's shoulders tightly. Edward whispered hoarsely: "John, I ask you, whatever you do, do not give up. I can really take a lot of your bullshit. Your hatred, your scorn, your rejection. If you scream in my ear right away that I should please get the fuck out of your life, that's okay too, just please don't die. I would not stand that. Your death is also my end and I'm afraid of dying so early in my life.”

The brown-haired man pressed his eyes tighter together and only held on to the younger man even more. The tinkerer slowly put the blanket around their body, giving the former psychiatrist the long-awaited warmth. The silence this time was extraordinarily beautiful. Reassuring. Balm for a broken soul. The younger one finally pulled him onto his lap and closed his arms around his narrow hips, pressing his fingertips into the worn clothes. Jonathan's lips quivered when he breathed softly: "Don't let go of me, Edward. Please, don't go. Stay."

#DC #Batman #arkham verse #Jonathan Crane #edward nygma #riddler #scarecrow #scriddler #riddlecrow #temarcia

[archiveofidentityconstellations]

cass won't share her cheese nibs and bruce doesn't love me and i think?? that i deserve better??? than this???? i'm moving to alaska where NO ONE CAN TELL ME WHAT TO DO

the sequel to that one trix yogurt fic

I feel like I should tell you that I am MASSIVELY fucked up right now 

 like i am such a garbage heap that oscar the grouch took a look at me and said 

 “fuckk off!! i have standards!” 

anyways

it’s Brimothy, bitch

what is UP mothertrucksrs it is Me i am back here to write a report on the UNBELIEVABLE SHIT I JUST HANDLED.

okay so u know how Gotham city is on crack cocaine all the time. with like some LSD and heroin and never ever any weed except for like who is that pig guy?? nevrm he doesn’t have weeeed but like he is definitely a Pig. what the fuck is his name. what the fuck.

 okay so anyways 

 is it Goyle

 Doyle

 Pigoyle 

 tin foil? lmao

OKAY FUCK anyways the City, who Also May Be My Lover, is in a constant life crisis (which i relate? a Lot) and do you want to know this s h i t

Crocodile

Killer Croc

who Steve Irwin would be v disappointed in

Is climbing

into people’s FUCKING TOILETS

???????????????

THIS ISN’T FLORIDA

THIS IS NEW JERSEY

WE WEAR SHOES IN THE WINTER

WHAT SORT OF FLIP-FLOP WEARING CUCKER DOES HE THINK HE IS

okay so obviously KC is a big guy. a Dude. a whack-o whaler of a Male. a Big Boh. the largest banananana in the pack. he is Big. so he cAn’t fit into most people’s toilets. he can, however, fit into Big People’s toilets (big as in wealthy, not As in Tom Hanks)

so KC (crispy,,,nuggest…i wonder if fried alligator is good—not that im thinking of eating him, though someone really should threaten him with cannibalism, like if you’re going to be a bitch about it then you deserve the same done to you, it’s just manners) is in cahoots and canoodles with Someone Who Shall Not Be Named (not bc i don’t know, I do, that’s how detectives work. it’s my JOB to know, and i was a prodigy) but bc there is a whole other report detailing this person and their movements and its case file #4461 if u don’t believe me, but i ain’t no snitch, but i will say that tonight’s events connect to file #4461 so Dad if you’re reading this you should already have it out bc it’s your JOB

speaking of jobs ding ding here is mine coming round the mountain as she comes bc the apple bottom jeans the boots with the fur will be coming round the mountain when she comes shE’ll be coming round the mountain she’ll be coming round the mountain she’ll b e coming round and getting low low low low low l ow low

It was a crisp October night. The sun was blinking its sleepy lids, setting the ballroom with an incandescent glow. Bruce Wayne strode across the floor, his daughter Cassandra accompanying him. They wore matching expressions that the privileged always wear: guarded, yet hungry. Hungry for what? Probably for the crab cakes just out of reach. Neither of them had an allergy, and Cassandra in particular had a propensity to shove anything edible in her mouth, so it really was a tragedy that those crab cakes were all the way across the room. There should really be a table right in the middle of the dance floor just for snacks. That way caterers wouldn’t have to do so much leg work, which is actually a good thing, because that ballroom floor is slippery af. This narrator should know, he has Died A Few Times getting there. Suddenly, the night’s festivities were interrupted by a social faux pas: a scream.

You don’t just scream at regular parties, it’s uncouth and hysterical. But you can scream if the social boundaries have already been crossed, and boy, were they crossed.

You see, Dear Reader, there was a man in the toilet.

I use the term “man” loosely, as his glaring yellow eyes do wonders when you might just crap your pantaloons. You start imagining things, like dinosaurs whcih i am personally a big fan of bc Jurassic Park has a kid named Tim in it and I am also Tim.

 hI y is our toilet so big that Killer Croc could wiggle his way up? also how long can he hold his breath. 

 it seems to be impressively long

 hey Bdad how long can he hold his breath? please let me know if you can, and if you won’t i will eat all your wafers becauzs i wa

Mrs. Trenton screamed and fled the impertinent bathroom guest, who wasted no time in ripping the commode to pieces. There was a roar and all the guests paused, unsure if it was merely pipe problems or if they were under attack.

Reader: They were, in fact, under attack. 

The guests, deciding that Mrs. Trenton was a social entrepreneur, followed her lead and began to scream. Killer Croc had made it to ballroom, standing at an impressive height just outside the doors.

He was Not wearing a shirt.

okay have u ever noticed that Killer Crog hasn’t got any nipples????? where are they? he’s got pecs but no nipples?? 

where did they go where are his nip nops i kno people don’t like to think about this but i hAve wondered since i was like 13 like where did they go. has anyone ever asked him. 

did they fall off

“Take the crab cakes!” shouted Matthew Fielder, a lil bitch.

“No, take me!” said Cassandra Wayne, who would literally rather die than give up those crab cakes.

Killer Croc paid them no heed. He desired one thing and one thing only, the sweet satisfaction for his carnal craving: Humain Flesh.

(alliteration hell yeah hell yeah take that Mrs. Johnson i do know shit and im creative as well u jusy don’t know how my brian works it’s like a golden goose egg trap ye ye ye)

 i just Realized 

 i am…a high school drop out

 i don’t know why im doing this

Dear Reader, as an Aside: Smoking can lead to many health issues, especially if one begins smoking at a young age. Harmful side effects include increased risk of stroke and brain damage; muscular degeneration, eye cataracts; cancer of lips, nose, tongue, and mouth, and nipple loss.

 Jason you may want to have a talk with you and your mipples

The terror in the air was stifling. Cannibalism conduct was not something conveyed in etiquette classes. Rich people never expect to be eaten.

Reader, everyone hardly breathed. Something deeply primal had occurred. 

From the doorway the golden eyes struck. Deadly. Lethal. Hungry. 

This was more than vengeance. It was a sadistic occasion of play.

  okay good thing Dames wasn’t there because he fucking HATES KC he gets all huffy and shrieky about him like “he’s a HYGIENE PROBLEM” and it’s like,,,,,.ur right but i don’t want to agree with you because where do we stand if i do that?? as brothers???

 i think the fuck not 

anyways i just realized i’ve been calling Waylon Jones KC the entire damn time (NEWSFLASH ASSHOLE) but to be fucking h, he wants to to be called that. i called him Allen once and he was so PISSED so i can only think of actually calling him by his name. he wouldn’t even be chill with me naming the sewer alligators even tho they were awesome names. i called one Dundee. that’s fucking genius. that’s just. i’m fucking amazing. stupenous. and unappreciated.

 maybe his nipples fell off because he swims in shit every night?????

 question: why do i swim in shit almost as often 

 what the dfck

 what are my life choices

 i feel like there should have been some fine print involved here 

 “Robin duties include scraping shit off your asschreks 3 times a week”

 mahbe,,,,maybe not what i want 

 personal choice

though i haven’t really seen any alligators in the sewers for years now, which is

oh my god OH MY GOD HE ATE THEM  HE ATE THEM OH MY GOD  OH MY GOD !!!!!!!!!!

HE FUCKING  HE FUCKING. HE. HE ATE HIMSELF  HE FUCNING ATE HIMAELF AND HIS FAMILY HIS COUSINS HIS CPOUSINS  HIS FAMILY OH MY GOD  THIS IS LIKE MY 8TH GRADE GRADUATION ALL OVER AGAIN

im so disturbed……..i like, need to eat something. Fucking hell. this Not what i had in mind when i decided to be alive.

i feel like as if i woke up one day and i was the only one in the entire world who remembered Caillou. also could pull off my face and eat it like taffy. imw so. i.

mom i know i refused to go to Shabbat when i was ten so i don’t get to say this but:

this is Not kosher 

oh heyy i want some pIckes

i was also thinking of takin a spin class?? like fuck it i like to bike. fuck it. and maybe iwdont want bruce and nigtwink fucking watxhing me with their beady eyes. like get those off my calves. my cleavage is up here, gentlemen. stop talking about proper form. some people can do things and suck at them. i’m never going to be like a professional ice curler. and i shouldn’t feel bad about that. who the fuck curls for fun. maybe Canada???????

note to self: look up the history of the sport of curling 

i’m going to get good at it to piss off Jason

Back On Topic:

Killer Croc took a step forward. His mouth trembled, watering in anticipation. He took another step.

Mrs. Trenton drew in a breath. 

The room was silent. 

Far across the room, Bruce Wayne clenched his champagne glass. Cassandra Wayne stopped chewing the crab cakes.  Reader, I won’t mince words: Waylon Jones crossed the threshold.

  and the instant he put his foot down on the ballroom floor he fucking slipped like a drunkass toddler

like when Damian is really really tired bc he’s like 2 years old (only an evil 2 years old like chucky) and Jason tries to give him a high five 

gremlin still doesn’t get that “down low” precedes “too slow” 

and he like. faceplants

onto the fucking concrete 

and then Bruce yells at Jason 

and then Jason yells back

“I NEVER ASKED FOR SIBLINGS”

like it was something we all did, like wrote it down on our batmas lists for Brucie Claus 

and im sitting there, a perennial Forgotten Middle Child

and Damian is like still. on the ground.

anyways KC is just slipping across the ballroom, slippering and sliding bc the floor was just waxed and it’s silent except for the wet slaps of his feet against the floor and the screech his tail makes every time he trips (sort of like this) and when he sometimes falls it makes that sound of when your thighs SLAP against the mats and it sounds like a wet walrus coming to cheer you on while a Giant simultaneously swallows a liquid-filled gummy worm down his throat like QAWAGGHHHHHHH only his falls reverberated against the ceiling panels and the cherubs looked down in like. disgust.

Cass began chewing the crab cakes again by the time Killer Croc fell for the twelfth time so idk it was an embarrassing situation

 we all did that Thing people do when a social barrier is breached 

 we like…..avoided each other’s eyes and made light conversation 

 meanwhile Killer Croc’s body screeched in the background

anyways Matthew Fielder was like “so I hear you dance ballet” and Cass responded “uh huh. tap too” and the chewed up crab cake crumbs fell out of her mouth and onto the floor

 i CAN’T

scrambled cock on a cracker, Cass why does Alfred let this happen????? what is this??????  like she can snort creme puffs like cocaine but GOD FORBID i put my elbows on the table and call damian “a poisonous little bitch” because he ate my croutons

 the standards in this family are unbelievable

So everyone is just talking and Mrs. Trenton is sipping champagne now and Luis Alvarez is doing that thing where he starts trying to eat caviar one teeny tiny egg at a time and KC is just like WHUMPH for the thirtieth time

finally dad takes pity on him and crouches down and is like “hey how you doing slugger” which???? Offended me. Very Much.

that’s MY nickname 

has Waylon No-Nipples Jones been adopted by Bruce Wayne??? has Waylon No-Nipples Jones retrieved HIS sorry ass from time?? i don’t fucking think so 

the audacity of this man

but before Killer Croc can reply

Red Hood

BURSTS INTO THE ROOM

guns out, voice modulator kind of fuzzy like a broke refrigerator that makes an “eeeeeeeeeee” sound ever since i tripped over it and fell on it

 which wASN’T MY FAULT 

 IM NOT “deformed baby zebra clumsy” FUCK YOU JASON 

 MAYBE HE SHOULDN’T KEEP HIS EXPENSIVE HELMET ON THE FLOOR THEN 

 you know what? I’m GLAD i tripped over it.

 yeah. suck it. 

 im glad you sound like a 90s japanese transistor radio 

 off brand too

 fuck you 

 I GOT A BRUISE NOT THAT ANYONE CARES 

 even Bruce was like “hey tim you need to watch where you’re going”

 ???

 how about YOU watch where YOU’RE GOING 

 “where” as in TIME TRAVEL 

 REMEMBER THAT BRUCE 

 REMEMBER THAT?!???????

 HUH BIG GUY?!???????!!???

 no one is allowed to criticize me from now on

 i am Above Reproach 

    anyways yeah Red Hood appears at the party and shoots KC and Bruce was like “why the FUCK would you SHOOT HIM” as if he has some misplaced paternal feeling for Waylon No-Nipples Jones because he called him slugger which is something he calls one of his other kids but whatever im not bitter im just insecure and sad all the time but don’t worry about it maybe i’ll die one day and you’ll all be sorry especially about Certain Things like not sharing cheese nibs huh Cassandra

so RH and Bruce Wayne kind of argue. like. literally sniping at each other bc SOMEBODY forgot that Red Hood is a criminal and not their misplaced son and RH is like “it’s!!!!! a tranquilizer!!!!! ya big hoe!!!!!” only he doesn’t really say it like that but everyone isn’t even listening at this point because this party has already been so goddamn weird and we’re all suffering from secondhand embarrassment

i am Assuming,,,,,that Killer Croc Jones “Jonsie No-Nipples” has been taken away to be put into jail and studied for his non-nipple properties but at this point i’ve been sitting here huffing that cold medicine or whatever Bruce gave me. which

 oh yeah i was crushed earlier 

 it was by “slugger” but whatever

 yeah his body broke mine 

 it was because Bruce and Jason were fighting again and not paying attention so 

 KC was tranquillized and like 

 fell on me 

 he drooled on me too 

 those ballroom floors really hurt 

 like my head feels like mush 

 Alfred’s oatmeal 

 on its second day 

 because i refused to eat it on the first day 

 that man has a spine of Steel and he Does Not Let You Waste Food 

 btw he fell on me because i pushed Luis Alvarez out of the way 

 he was really transfixed by those tiny fish eggs 

 it’s fun to put them on your tongue and let them like slide around 

 so i pushed him out of the way and was promptly crushed to death 

 B said something about a broken collarbone 

 i am more worried about a broken butt 

 fuck

 my coccyx

PROFESSOR PYM wait no shit that’s a comic book character

anyways my butt is broken and im hungry and dad wouldn’t let me get out of the chair so i write up this report because I am A Real Life Detective and I do my JOB

once again im the best

hey red jood can you get me some cheese nibs cassandrA won’t share which is p mean especially since i was all for being eaten to give her those crab cakes  red hoof red  why isn’t he responding to me i want xheese nibs red hanz  red  red  Red Hood please I require sustenance  red fhau red gjji red hhood ted joood redb hood red red edds red red edd dedd red red red red red wd red  what the fuck what a right bastard sometimes oh hi Badaman

EDIT: His name is “Pyg.”  Fucking. Pyg. Points taken off for unoriginality.

decided to have a tumblr version too ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#take this and put it on my grave #in remembrance of me