#lasiiurus

He still remembers that day in grade school when he first talked to her. It was his mother’s idea. He said that people were stupid and she scolded him and he screamed and she yelled and he was grounded and she came to him later in the night with Aristotle and ice cream. You have to make friends, Tommy. You have to learn to be around people, Tommy. You have to be nice to the other children, Tommy. So the very next day he went for the easiest opportunity, and that was Bryce Wayne.

Hey, look. We both have two first names.

(He’s always thought Bryce Elliot sounded good.)

There’s nothing left for me in Gotham. He is left for her in Gotham.There’s nothing left for me in Gotham. He is left.There’s nothing left for me in Gotham. He is nothing.

He has to ball his hands into fists in his pockets to keep from clenching them around her instead.

“————– Take me with you.”

Take me away from my rotting mother. Take me away from this awful place. I’m your other half. You have to take me with you. I don’t know who I am without you. I’ll die if you leave me behind. I’ll kill myself. I’ll waste away into nothing. Take me with you. Take me with you. Please, please, please, if ever there was a merciful God, take me with you.

me: sweats about piri writing ivy again because A+++

me: what if i went back to my ivy blog

he's like the flicker of a dying bulb , only faintly present for brief interruptions in his disassociation , just long enough to feel the sounds of her fist cracking against his bones , the smell of blood in his mouth. it helps him STEAL any satisfation she might get from this , hiding it away behind thick brick walls , isolating it from the part of him that actually responds to pain. the broken ribs are worth knowing she's not going to get anything out of this. his head snaps to the side as her balled up hand decks him in the jaw , the pain rolling right through him until it's nothing but a WASTED EFFORT vibrating in the air. he lets his mouth drop open and watches the blood drip in a string down to the floor. jim smiles , biting down on his lower lip and grinding it between his teeth.

« @lasiiurus »

    “Bryce. . .”

He TRIES to stop her, his expression PAINED for the sake of her words. This ISN’T what he wants, it NEVER has been. He’s NEVER sought an apology for the FUNDAMENTAL differences in the two halves of his childhood, nor held any of what had come after, against her. 

Shuffling his feet, he drops his gaze, set to ENDURE her self flagellation - RIDE it out while he constructed his rebuttal. She GETS like this sometimes, generally when the city is quiet-ish and there isn’t as much to occupy her mind. He can’t help but to wonder what else HAUNTS her so. 

     “Look, you LOVED me plenty. I       never ONCE felt UNLOVED. Sure,       I might have felt UNAPPRECIATED,       but you trained me hard for a reason.”

He lifts his head to meet her eye, hands sliding into his pockets. 

      “You were a mother to me when I         LOST mine. To be HONEST, you         still ARE. Probably ALWAYS will         be.”

A small smile crouches at the edge of his expression, undercutting the somber nature of the conversation. He WON’T have her mired in this regret, because, to him, it is UNFOUNDED. She has NOTHING to JUSTIFY because there had been NOTHING wrong. 

                    ❛     all of my enemies made the decision that it's BETTER to follow me.   ❜        

@lasiiurus

I N H A L E S   S L O W L Y 

E X H A L E S   S L O W L Y 

THE GUS BUS. A WONDROUS INDIVIDUAL WHOM I AM PRIVILEGED TO BOTH KNOW AND SHARE A COUNTRY WITH. THE GUS BUS. A BEAUTIFULLY SOULED DUDE THAT IS SOLID IN HIS REPRESENTATION OF A CHARACTER AND HIS COMMITMENT TO EXCELLENCE. THE GUS BUS. AN AMAZING BRO THAT I WILL NEVER FAIL TO FOLLOW, NOR FAIL TO ADORE FOR THERE IS A POETRY TO HIS WORDS. THIS IS A GUY THAT UNDERSTANDS WRITING ON A CELLULAR LEVEL, HE PACES HIS WORDS, HIS SCENES, HIS CHARACTERS, LETS ACTION SPEAK FOR ITSELF. 

FRIEND, I spoke for 6 minutes about how much I admire you? I could shout for 60 about it, if you’d let me. I am constantly and consistently floored by you, okay? Never, EVER, EVER CHANGE - you are absolutely perfect the way you are, and GOOD GOLLY MISS MOLLY PLEASE WRITE A BOOK BECAUSE I WILL BUY 50 COPIES AND ASK YOU TO SIGN THEM ALL AND NOT SELL THEM ON EBAY BECAUSE ALL 50 COPIES ARE TOO PRECIOUS TO LET GO OF, LEADING TO ME ULTIMATELY BEING BURIED WITH 50 SIGNED COPIES OF A NOVEL BY THE GUS BUS. 

❛ get the FUCK out of here, bats! this isn’t any of your GODDAMN BUSINESS! ❜ yes, frank knows he’s on the wrong turf. he knows gotham is the boy scout’s city to protect--- but frank was dragged here following something he NEEDS to deal with permanently. he knows the hero doesn’t have the guts to do it himself. he has a gun pointed at a wounded man he’s holding up by the collar, and he’s ready to SHOOT.