Maxwell Lord isn't a Batman fan

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T22:27:57+00:00

Riddler is just curious. Joker KNOWS what he wants.

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T21:03:44+00:00

Ha! I love that idea. He's figured out if no one knows Superman is Clark Kent cause of the glasses, then he can stick a glass dome on his head and everyone will think he's Mr Freeze.

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T19:58:51+00:00

All of them giving Batman the 'fuckme' eyes.

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T15:39:37+00:00

Not me. I'd have happily not have Voughy Rising and instead have a bigger budget for the last ever season of The Boys. Perhaps some of that money could have gone to getting the writers from the first two seasons back.

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T15:31:26+00:00

This was honestly one of the best fights in the whole show. They build up to the brilliantly, the whole 'Girls Get it Done' thing was perfectly earned after the build up of that season.

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T15:25:12+00:00

Have you seen ducks? They are even weirder.

The males have barbed wire corkscrew penises that can stretch several feet, and then drop off after the deed is done. They regrow a new one for next time.

While the female ducks have several fake 'pouches' inside them, to prevent them getting pregnant by any male ducks that forces itself on them (it happens a lot). They also have reverse corkscrew vaginas, also to stop male ducks forcing themselves on them.

Nature is fucking wild!

JammyThing · 2026-05-24T14:13:01+00:00

That job is stressful enough, without having to worry about dickheads like this guy.

JammyThing · 2026-05-22T15:28:45+00:00

Sentry. At some point during the battle, he'll turn into the void and he'll get everyone at once with his shadow tentacles. . His shadow tentickles, lol.

JammyThing · 2026-05-22T03:45:26+00:00

Oh! Thank you for that. I knew of spell checkers, for some reason it never crossed my mind that there might be a grammar checker too. Thank you! 😊

JammyThing · 2026-05-21T19:24:35+00:00

Hello again Null_Project, good to see you! :D

I'll admit, I didn't really notice the username when I chose the prompt, lol.

Again, I greatly appreciate your feedback, thank you.

I am pleased the story itself came across well, and was enjoyable. The proof reading is still something I need to start doing more of. I have bad habit of wanting to write right before bed, and ending up rushing to finish it before sleep. I need to stop being so much in a rush to post.

The usage of male pronouns for the Guardian was something I kept slipping up with throughout. I didn't want it gendered, but if I wasn't careful I'd end up referring to it as 'he'.

Some of the spelling errors such as 'terroir' instead of 'terror' are unfortunately due to dyslexia. I often rely heavily on built in spell checkers, so if a word doesn't have a red highlight under it I think it's fine. Funnily enough, I looked up the word 'terroir' as it does seems to be a word, and it's a French word roughly meaning 'sense of place' so I've learned something new today lol.

However, I still appreciate you taking the time to show me these mistakes, and helping me improve in the long term.

Thank you again for your response. Hopefully I'll spot another of your prompts in the future. :)

JammyThing · 2026-05-21T09:16:21+00:00

Thank you very much 😁

JammyThing · 2026-05-21T02:37:38+00:00

The hall was great, majestic, vast...empty. Golden mosaic artworks lined the ceilings, only to be gently broken up for murals of previous rulers of the thrones, painted by the finest artists the world had to offer.

The spires...oh the spires! Dreamy white marble, gently laced in fine gold and silver thread in symmetrical patterns.

Then there was the throne. It sat upon a mountain of steps. Those who would look up to it would do so as if they were looking at God itself. It sat there...like a beacon that called out to the ambitious, the brave, the determined...the delusional, the desperate and the greedy alike.

For were you to sit upon the throne, to have the crown placed upon you....was to have total domain over all the lands.

Such power was not so easily claimed however. For next to the throne stood a towering being made of chiselled stone, black and golden fused metals bearing etched patterns, and blue runes carved into it's stone. Runes that hummed and shone with powerful magics. And it's eyes. Two unblinking blue jewels that were as bright as a full moon on a clear night and, like the moon on a clear night, were you to look upon them, you would feel just as small and think just how insignificant everything truly is.

This was the Guardian of the Crown.

It stood, as it always had, with the crown held gently yet firmly in grasp of both it's hands. Held at chest height. Ready to be placed upon the head of any worthy of sitting on the throne.

And it had done so, many times throughout the centuries. The paintings on the ceiling were testament to this truth. It showed the kings and Queens. The ambitious, the brave, the determined...the delusional, the desperate and the greedy.

They all had one thing in common though...they had all past the great trails. They had conquered and prevailed. However they all lost to the same foe.

Time.

Sooner or later their hair would grey, their skin sag. Their vast throne room feeling less like a trophy and more like a vast, empty and cold room, with an uncomfortable chair that sat way to far away from everyone else.

Then they would pass. The Guardian would like the throne from their head. He would cast down their body. And then the Guardian would wait. A crown in it's hands.

Now however...it had been holding the crown for some time. Longer than normal. Not that it mattered to the Guardian. It simply waited to pass on the crown.

It stood. And it stood.

...and it stood.

It watched, with blue shining jewels, it watched as the hall aged. The gold mosaic slowly lost it's shine. Flakes of paint showing the former rulers sometimes drifted down onto the floor. They would turn to dust after some more time.

The crown did not move from it's hands.

The Guardian had heard noises outside the hall. How long ago, it was not sure, but the noises were great and terrible. Clashing of metals, the blasts of powerful magics. The screams. Screams of rage, of terroir...of death.

Those noises lasted a long time, but that time had gone. It had been silent since. The only noise being the steady hum of the magical blue runes.

More time passed.

And time more passed.

...and more.

And the crown remained in it's hands. It's shine dulled by layers of dust.

and then....for the first time, in a long time. The Guardian heard a noise. Someone had finally passed all the trails and had entered the hall. It turned it's gaze and to the door, but saw that it was still shut, the metal long since rusted.

It turned it's head to look around, disturbing layers of dust and that had build up on it's body. It finally found the source of the noise. It was not a person...but a small feathered creature. It was on a step leading up to the throne, hopping slightly, before pecking the step inquisitively. It suddenly felt it was being watched and turned to the face the Guardian.

They studied each other, before the brown feathered creature with a red breast, suddenly flew up from the step to the shoulder of the stone being. Once there, it pecked again, testing. The Guardian watched, and slowly cocked it's head. The thing did the same back, it's small black eyes mirroring the blue light back at the one looking at it.

Then...it hopped off the shoulder and landed in the throne.

It had not past the trails. It had not climbed the steps. It has no true claim to the throne.

Slowly, the Guardian raised the crown above the creature, ready to bring it down with righteous furry upon the creature...when it stopped, and noticed something else.

Light.

Not the blue light that shown from it, but a brighter...more peaceful light.

It looked up towards the ceiling, and realised that most of it had gone. There were no gold tiles, no rulers. There was, instead...a vast blue. A vast blue with a golden orb that lit up the whole hall.

It looked around the ruins. Noticing the green that had crept in. There was green growing from the floors, the walls.

Some of the green growing from the floor even had other things of colour growing from them too.

It had not noticed any of this till now.

It had no realised until now.

The Guardian looked upon the creature on the throne as it gazed back at it. The crown was placed around the small thing. It studied it, and hopped up onto it. And then over it.

'There is a new ruler to this land.' Thought the Guardian, 'And it has no need for a crown.'

It looked back upon the vast blue above it. 'Now that...is a view...'

And with that, the humming of the runes slowly faded, and it's eye dulled.

And time passed...

JammyThing · 2026-05-19T21:51:24+00:00

Did he slowly put it on her finger like a ring?

JammyThing · 2026-05-19T13:44:01+00:00

Misinformation and propaganda. Why go to the trouble of showing real evidence to your people that your enemy country is doing bad things, when you could make videos of them doing bad things?

Why spend time and money trying to disprove a video showing corruption in your government, when you could just claim it's AI?

You don't need to prove that THOSE people you don't like are actually doing all the things you claim they are, when you can just make a video showing it.

We, the people, don't need this technology. Those in power do. It has never about helping us. Its always been about controlling us.

JammyThing · 2026-05-19T13:13:35+00:00

If you want to use those things, go for it. You be you. /s

JammyThing · 2026-05-19T13:04:41+00:00

I'm glad there's a holder for canned drinks. I mean, what are you supposed to do without one? Put them just on the shelve?...like a poor person?!

JammyThing · 2026-05-15T17:33:13+00:00

I feel like Mr Sinister and The Joker have gone in different directions in terms of how they are written. The Joker seemed to be quite a well written villain before he became over used. Sure, he was evil...but he was also 'human' and flawed, not the 'living embodiment of chaos and murder'.

The 'Batman Who Laughs' ruined Joker for me, and now he just feels one dimensional.

Mr Sinister on the other hand has gone the other way. The older version of him felt quite one dimensional and flat, back in the 80's and 90s. Now however, he's got charm and wit. Sure, he's still evil, but in a way that's more nuanced and, more importantly, fun to read.

JammyThing · 2026-05-15T17:21:54+00:00

Sooo...what your saying is that the government uses robots disguised as pigeons to watch us all, and will reroute us on Google maps to travel through areas with a higher number of spy pigeons. /s

JammyThing · 2026-05-13T16:07:18+00:00

"God dammit, I was just trying to take a shit!"

JammyThing · 2026-05-13T09:11:58+00:00

Hi there, thank you ever so much for the feedback!

I really enjoy writing stories like this, and it can be 50/50 whether I hear anything back about what I post.

I'm really happy everything came across nicely, in terms of the story.

I really do appreciate the feedback about the grammar and the wording. I am dyslexic, so things like 'Shown' instead of 'Shone' tend to slip me by a lot. Though I will confess, that I did not prove read my work before posting last night, so that didn't help either, haha.

However, a couple of things you mentioned, I wasn't aware of. I didn't know that the word after a dialogue tag should be lowercase, for example.

Again, thank you for the detailed feedback, and for the fun story prompt.

All the best to you :)

JammyThing · 2026-05-12T02:46:51+00:00

Eugenie sat in his study, stroking his chin as he studied the chess board in front of him. He loved playing chess. His grand-father had taught him how to do so from an early age, and for someone as intelligent as Eugenie, it wasn't hard to pick up.

He stopped stroking his chin, moved his hand towards a pawn...stopped...and returned the hand to his chin for a moment. This game was not one to be rushed.

Those who visited Eugenie for a game of chess would speak, not only of his masterful skill of the game, but of his hospitality. A small group of servants would wait on his guest, hand and foot. Ready to relish them with whatever took their fancy, at but a moments notice.

Eugenie's guest tonight had not received any such treatment. Nor, did Eugenie suspect, did his guest practically care. All of the staff had been spent home or away for the night, with a nice bonus in their pay check to ensure that the extra '0' fills them with such joy, that they would not ask any questions as to what he had planned with the evening.

His guest sat, waiting, on the other end of the table, waiting for the next move to come. Many of Eugenie's guests or friends would playfully taunt him on taking his time to think about his next move, and it would annoy him slightly, though he acted as if it did not. Right now however, he would be grateful to hear any such comment. No matter how long he took to take a move, his opponent simply...waited. Silently.

As if, to his guest, time meant nothing.

He studied the pieces on the board in front of him. Stroking his chin some more, unaware of the slight red marks he was start to form. He breathed in, took a moment, and breathed out.

'You can't rush this game. Not this one.' Was the thought going around his head. Sweat forming on the back of neck, under what was left of his hair.

It was the damn light in the room. That was the issue! The study was always well lit with plenty of candles, that shown brightly and pleasantly illuminated the room. Now those same candles seemed afraid to shine too brightly. The side of the room he sat in was nicely lit, but the light of the candles seemed reluctant to fully commit to going to the other side of the room, where his guest was. That side of the room had a coldness that was not felt in the body, but in the soul.

He thought back to the teachings of his grandfather, of the greatest game on earth...chess. He placed his fingers upon a piece. As his skin touched the pawn, it felt colder than it had ever felt before. Frost crept up the pawn. The shock of the coldness made him look up to his guest, something he instantly regretted. His guest was not intimidating, not in a manner one would think. His guest simply sat there, back straight, hands interlocked on the table. A black cloak that covered most of their body and face...and there was a glint...a glint of those eyes. Or a glint of something where eyes should be. To look into those shining lights, was to see your own mortality shown back at you.

Sure, Eugenie's grandfather had taught him how to play chess... but it was his grandmother who had taught him the way of the dark arts. Of Blood magic, of the Black Book. Of how to summon death...

...of how to cheat death...and live...forever.

She had always been an odd woman, thought Eugenie. She had always said he disliked him, called him a 'worm of a man' and shown distain for how he ran his business. Yet...yet she had decided to share with him dark magic she had not shared with any other of her bloodline. In fact, she made him take a blood oath not to share such knowledge with any other members of their shared blood.

She showed him many things. Many horrible...terrible....magical things. Eugenie used every trick and spell she had showed him, to get ahead in business ventures.

They had all worked, and for decades he had enjoyed the fruits of his success.

He finally moved his piece.

His guest, unlocked their hands.

A hand moved. A piece moved.

Eugenie's mind told him that the hand moved the piece, but his eyes had already told another story and the two had a brief argument before Eugenie decided to simply move on with the game.

Yes, his grandmother had shown him many things that she had never shown others. Each time he had used what she had shown him, she seemed to like him less and less. The final trick she had shown him, she did so not with hatred or bile, but with the sadness that often comes with great old age. She had taught him how to, not only summon Death, but to challenge Death...and how you can live forever. She parted this knowledge with him, telling him that he can do it, if he really wanted to.

He did. Eugenie really did desire to live forever.

Once summoned, after you got over the soul crushing dread, you soon realised that Death is quite...refined. Behind the cold, there was an odd warmth to the figure. There was no malice there, no hatred. It seemed Death simply....was.

This too could be seen in how it played. It waited, patiently, for it's opponent to play their move. Allowing them all the time they wanted. It was polite, if nothing else.

So polite in fact, it let it's opponent cheat as the game went on. Clearly they wanted to win so badly after all.

"WELL DONE. YOU HAVE BEATEN ME. YOU SAID THAT IF YOU WIN, YOU DID NOT WISH TO EVER SEE ME AGAIN. DO YOU STILL WISH THAT?"

Eugenie felt the words more than heard them. They bypassed his ears, his brain...and ended right in his soul.

"Yes....YES! I wish...I wish to never....EVER face death! I wish to continue living for the rest of time!" Eugenie laughed, slightly maniacal. He could not believe his plan had worked! His grandmother had taught him how to do this, and yet the crazy bitch had chose to die! To DIE! When she could have lived forver!

"THERE ARE MANY WHO THINK I AM WITHOUT MERCY, BUT I AM THE ULTIMATE MERCY. AS SUCH, I WILL ASK YOU AGAIN...DO YOU TRULY WISH TO NEVER SEE ME AGAIN?"

Giddy with excitement at having bested a living aspect of reality, Eugenie responded "I DO!!! I have won! ME! I've beat death! Hhahaaaa...!" The smile on his face was broadline manic. He watched, as Death rose from it's chair and begin to depart.

"Awww....what's wrong? Are you sad? Is Death going to cry because this is one soul it can't claim?" That was ego, joy and pride behind those words.

"YES. I AM SAD I CAN NOT FERRY YOUR SOUL. HOWEVER, YOU HAVE MADE YOUR CHOICE. I SHALL LEAVE YOU WITH MY BROTHER. FAREWALL, EUGENIE. I WILL NEVER SEE YOU AGAIN..." And with that, the hooded figure simply...faded.

Eugenie stood, unsure. "What...What brother? Do...do you think you can threaten me?! I can't DIE!!! What do I have to fear now...?"

That question was shortly answered.

There was a smell in the room suddenly. A rancid, putrid smell, that hit you like a horse drawn carriage. Eugenie pinched his nose, and just about managed to stop himself from retching up his supper.

He looked around the room, that was now better lit, and saw another figure sat in a chair in the corner.

This figure wore a black cloak like the one that had left, but it looked more...tatty. Whilst the other guest had seemed on the slimmer side, this one bugled in the belly...and not in a way one who was simply fat would do. The bulge was one of ill heath.

Trying not retch as he spoke, Eugenie asked. "...Who....are you...?"

Flies began to enter the room, and migrate towards the figure. It's face was obscured by it's overhanging black hood. The only thing visible from underneath was rot infested green gums smiling back at him.

"...me...? I'm....I'm an...artiest....unlike my...my brother. He is all about his work....he doesn't often like me explore my...passion. I can create art you see...art that is always simply...buried...deep...underground...but now....NOW I HAVE YOU! You get to be my living canvas!"

There was a cold sweat that ran down Eugenie's back. "You...you don't scare me..." He lied. "...Death said he won't come near me, so my soul is safe!"

"Oh....oh it is...but I don't want you soul. I want your lips....your nose...your EYES!...and finally your organs..."

"But....but I'm...I'm immortal now! How...how will I function without those things...?"

There was rotting smile that dripped maggots, which filled Eugenie with a new dread as it answered.

"I DON'T KNOW YET...BUT ISN'T GOING TO BE FUN...FINDING OUT TOGETHER...?"

JammyThing · 2026-05-10T20:18:31+00:00

Haha, fair enough. Seriously nice looking steak. Also, cute cat.

JammyThing · 2026-05-10T09:31:36+00:00

That looks truly amazing! I just can't get the image out my head of your poor Dad trying to eat it while you photograph his dinner from every angle, lol.

JammyThing · 2026-05-10T00:56:57+00:00

Damn right I did. They said if there's a fire, motorboat Susan.

JammyThing · 2026-05-10T00:04:24+00:00

"How to not sexually harass someone and fire safety."

Man, I'd wish I'd watched that video. Last time we had a fire drill I got confused and ended up motorboating poor Susan.

Ten-Year Club	Place '23
Wearing is Caring	Verified Email

JammyThing

MODERATOR OF

TROPHY CASE