She/Her, Indian/Canadian, Bi, Choir student (former band), Apollo's song child, book reader and writer, I have a caffeine addiction, did I mention Apollo's song child? I have a thing for dark haired older men and women (Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss), I study monarchy and history for fun (its my backup for uni), I watch horror movies to sleep better at night, younger sister, glasses girl cuz im blind.
Elsya Georgia: The eternal forgotten withered flower.
Masterlist Below!
NOTE TO READERS:
Many of my works feature mental health and self destructive behavior. I do not under any circumstances encourage or condone these.
I simply write about about them because I have done those things because of my poor mental health and because at that time I would image what it would be like for someone to be there for me.
BATFAM
Series:
Pushing it Down and Praying
Free Now.
She's Dating My Boyfriend.
I Hear Your Voice.
Limit Feelings: You're Fair and I'm Insane.
One-Shots:
Nothing here yet.
CRIMINAL MINDS
Series:
But The Old Me is Still Me.
I Am Hungry, I Have Been Hungry
Same Eyes As Your Father
One- Shots:
Nothing here yet.
AVENGERS
Series:
Nothing here yet.
One-Shots:
Nothing here yet.
THE PITT
Series:
Nothing here yet.
One-Shots:
Nothing here yet.
If you have any recommendations pls give them. I would love to write about characters you like.
Your sperm donor father, the world famous villian, Joker had organzied this underwhelming annual attack for Batman, yet again.
There was really no point in the whole attack. It was just another hunger toxcin that made people turn into cannaibles.
Again, very underwhelming.
You had never understood your father’s love for Batman. The intense relationship they shared, of love and hate.
But you had never understood your father in general, and you were in no postiton to try to understand him anyway.
You sighed, taking a look down from the building’s ledge you were sitting on. It was a long way down, but you had done longer.
Besides, who was BashBomber if she didn’t jump off buildings?
You got up, straightened your ugly purple suit and fixed your Joker makeup. How would you be the Joker’s daughter, if you didn’t look just like him?
You turned, facing the edge of the building. You closed your eyes, breathing in the Gotham air.
“You know, that air is filled with pollution, right?” You opened your eyes, annoyed at the sudden intrustion of a private moment. “But you’ve obviously breathed in worse stuff than that, haven’t you Bash?”
You glared at the sky for a second but the sky couldn’t do anything about the fact that you would now have to put on that sugary Harley Quin/Joker voice that people associate you with.
“Now, now, BlueBird, that’s not a nice thing to say to a girl is it?” Your voice was high pitched and your smile strained as you turned around.
Nightwing - or rather Dick Grayson- stood with his arms crossed. He was amused and serious at the same time again.
Maybe he wouldn’t be amused if you told him that you knew his real identity that he thought he had kept a well hidden secret.
“Shouldn’t you be doing your homework, instead of attacking the city?” He’s right, you should be doing your homework, but it isn’t his business.
You flashed a smile. “There isn’t much homework when you're homeschooled.” You weren’t homeschooled either but you knew the Bats would surely try to look for you if you had said otherwise.
“But still,” Nightwing persisted. “A good education would get you farther in life than being a terrorist.”
“A terrorist?” You laughed. “I’m just a creative vigilante like you. The only difference is that we both stand for different things.”
The relationship between you and Nightwing had been like this for ages. He would come for you, trying for you to change your mind and you’d dismiss him by either fighting him and winning or you’d somehow find a way to escape the entire conversation.
You didn’t understand why he tried. You couldn’t weren’t going to change your mind, yet he still tried to convince you. Maybe he thought that you were the fickle type, the weird ones that had a sudden transformation after they’d heard an emotional speech about forgiveness and moving forward.
“Vigilante’s don’t hurt people, Bash,” Dick said softly. You stiffened.
You hated it when people tried to make you feel guilty for what you did. But they could never understand that if you didn’t do as your father told you, he’d beat you and put you through ruthless experiments.
Last time that happened, you had barely survived, leaving with these powers. But what about next time? What would happen next time? Would you make it out alive?
“Oh, BlueBird, I don’t hurt people. I just engaged in activities that includ other people hurting other peoples.” You said brightly, wishing that the brightness in your voice matched that in your heart. “Its not the same thing.”
“Bash,” Nightwing took a step closer. “You have to stop.”
You raised your right hand, a small green orb shining on your palm. It was a warning for him, if he took another step forward you’d make sure that the orb wasn’t so small and that it was no longer an orb but a bomb that you’d throw at him.
“You don’t want to fight me tonight,” You said. “So let me go.”
A scream echoed from the street below you. Another victim of your father’s crime.
Nightwing’s head snapped towards it. You took the opportunity to let your body give away, and let it fall.
The cold Gotham air whistled against your ears as you fell down the building. The glass reflected your hair - no, your wig covering your face. Purple wig hair covered the edge of your vision.
You let your hand reach out.
Perhaps, you were reaching out to your mother, who was looking down at you.
Perhaps, you were reaching out to God, to take you.
Perhaps, you were reaching out to the last shred of humanity that you had once held.
Nothing ever came to the grasp of your hand though.
Instead, you turned, pulling at the safety and letting the parachute inside your suit spread out. Beneath you, the ground became closer and closer, slower and slower.
One day, you promised to yourself, one day you’d fall off a building like this one and make sure that the Joker’s lineage ended with you.
Hello Reader!
This is a new start!
I'm so happy that this chapter made it out of the dusty drafts after two months (pray for the other ones)!!! Although I'm still getting out of my writer's block and will hopefully be finishing I'm Pushing it Down and Praying soon, I do want to get this one started.
How my followers be looking after I promised them new chapters and updates very very soon but ended up not being on tumblr the entire time.
(I’m actually in a writer block and having an episode)
I hate it when ppl idolize arranged marriage and the slowly falling for each other.
my Indian parents have an arranged marriage and it’s the most devastating thing ever and I never wish for anyone to be with someone they don’t know.
Unfortunately I do have an Indian name, a very Sanskrit on at that, so when its honor roll or a official ceremony, it doesn’t really matter : the teachers in my Canadian school will pronounce it wrong, every single time.
(I wait for them to say my last name to go up)
ACT III: With a Hand on My Heart, I Swore has officially begun! Thai new ACT is coming very very very soon as in this week as I’m trying to bring this story to a close. The original formatting of 10 chapters per ACT will also be redesigned for less chapters.
I am hoping to finish this series and then officially start my other batfam series that are on my master list.
Please stay in touch for the next chapters!!
You feel it as your fingers move across the piano, faster and unexpected and passionate.
The last time you felt like this was when you were with Jon, riding away with Polly and you had felt so happy.
You don’t remember the last time you played the piano with such passion though, it feels foreign now, the music, the art of soul. Perhaps it's because you forgot yourself in the Manor, or maybe because you had objectifed the piano there rather than humanize it with melody.
You smile - if you can call it that. For the first time since being with Jon you feel whole again, somewhat healed with David.
You reach for a key, but press the wrong one instead.
And maybe, David is like that wrong key but he’s better than Bruce ever was. Maybe, you might be putting too much faith into him but between the both of them you chose David anyday. After all, he was the one helping you get your powers back again.
You press the right key this time, before turning back to the one infront of you.
It's been two weeks now, and you can feel it - your power- in you sometimes.
It surges at night, pulling you into vivid dreams that feel more nightmares but it's okay. You don’t flinch at the nightmares because they aren’t real but also because your entire power is a nightmare.
Anyone who had the power of darkness, death and destruction should be prepared for the consequences.
Your arms feel sore but you keep pushing on.
Somedays you feel pain when your power surges. Headaches, stomach aches and every scar on your thigh feels like it's been opened up again, deeper this time.
You don’t dare come out on those days. You can’t let anyone see like that.
David comes in anyways, probably because he has attachment issues with you after a whole decade apart and he always comes with chocolate.
Your fingers are trembling.
It's still strange to you, how affectionate David can be. Especially after he sat through the entire Harry Potter movies with you as you somewhat sniffled and cried into your pillow when Snape died.
You had realized later that you had become more vulnerable and less numb than you remembered. You also realized how long you had been clean for.
Measure 82, you only have 8 more left.
David had been cutting back on the blood solution for a few days. You both knew that he was afraid for you.
He didn’t want you to die and for the first time in a while you didn’t either.
You hadn’t said anything to him yet but if he cut it back anymore you would. You had to get your powers back.
Your wrist made a cracking sound.
And whoever Ross Finora was, you knew that if you got your hands on him, you would not hesitate to kill him.
Because this life right now, with David and this piano and this will to live was sacred to you.
You weren’t going to let anyone ruin this for you.
Hi Readers!!!!
Exams are over and I am back for the better!!! Yes I know I said longer chapters but this is supposed to be something like a internal monologue before the BIG stuff happens.
Since there are only 4 chapters left until ACT III I would like to ask you guys if you want me to change the original formatting from 10 chapters ever ACT to less chapters. Please comment the amount you think would be better.
I'll be back very very very soon with the next chapter! Who knows we might even see Ross!
~Elsya
You feel it as your fingers move across the piano, faster and unexpected and passionate.
The last time you felt like this was when you were with Jon, riding away with Polly and you had felt so happy.
You don’t remember the last time you played the piano with such passion though, it feels foreign now, the music, the art of soul. Perhaps it's because you forgot yourself in the Manor, or maybe because you had objectifed the piano there rather than humanize it with melody.
You smile - if you can call it that. For the first time since being with Jon you feel whole again, somewhat healed with David.
You reach for a key, but press the wrong one instead.
And maybe, David is like that wrong key but he’s better than Bruce ever was. Maybe, you might be putting too much faith into him but between the both of them you chose David anyday. After all, he was the one helping you get your powers back again.
You press the right key this time, before turning back to the one infront of you.
It's been two weeks now, and you can feel it - your power- in you sometimes.
It surges at night, pulling you into vivid dreams that feel more nightmares but it's okay. You don’t flinch at the nightmares because they aren’t real but also because your entire power is a nightmare.
Anyone who had the power of darkness, death and destruction should be prepared for the consequences.
Your arms feel sore but you keep pushing on.
Somedays you feel pain when your power surges. Headaches, stomach aches and every scar on your thigh feels like it's been opened up again, deeper this time.
You don’t dare come out on those days. You can’t let anyone see like that.
David comes in anyways, probably because he has attachment issues with you after a whole decade apart and he always comes with chocolate.
Your fingers are trembling.
It's still strange to you, how affectionate David can be. Especially after he sat through the entire Harry Potter movies with you as you somewhat sniffled and cried into your pillow when Snape died.
You had realized later that you had become more vulnerable and less numb than you remembered. You also realized how long you had been clean for.
Measure 82, you only have 8 more left.
David had been cutting back on the blood solution for a few days. You both knew that he was afraid for you.
He didn’t want you to die and for the first time in a while you didn’t either.
You hadn’t said anything to him yet but if he cut it back anymore you would. You had to get your powers back.
Your wrist made a cracking sound.
And whoever Ross Finora was, you knew that if you got your hands on him, you would not hesitate to kill him.
Because this life right now, with David and this piano and this will to live was sacred to you.
You weren’t going to let anyone ruin this for you.
Hi Readers!!!!
Exams are over and I am back for the better!!! Yes I know I said longer chapters but this is supposed to be something like a internal monologue before the BIG stuff happens.
Since there are only 4 chapters left until ACT III I would like to ask you guys if you want me to change the original formatting from 10 chapters ever ACT to less chapters. Please comment the amount you think would be better.
I'll be back very very very soon with the next chapter! Who knows we might even see Ross!
~Elsya
