#direct gotham quote

[batcavescolony]

Gotham s4 e3

Alfred: play the role that you were born to play. That of a privileged somewhat pedantic teenager with deeper pockets then anybody else in this city.

Bruce: you mean behave like a spoiled brat?

Alfred: It goes against everything your beautiful parents engrained in you, but yes sir

Bruce: *creating Brucie Wayne, ditzy Prince of Gotham™* Bruce Wayne Billionaire Brat.

[mamawasatesttube]

an excerpt of the "kon being a scary alien creature" wip im HOPING i finish + post later tonight...!

And then—

Something squeezes his hand.

Tim freezes.

The feeling spreads from his hand up his wrist all the way to his shoulder, and from there over his whole body, an invisible blanket draped over him like a second skin. The ropes tied around his wrists and ankles slide against each other like snakes, moving as if with a mind of their own; they loosen enough for him to easily escape their grasp, but stay draped over him so that it still looks like he’s tied up.

The invisible blanket-cocoon over him squeezes his whole body, just slightly. It’d probably be freaky if it wasn’t so familiar.

Kon, Tim thinks, his heart thundering with relief.

Wild hope zings through his chest, and he drags his tired gaze from the men at the table up into the dark warehouse. It takes him a second, but he spots a pair of eyes glinting up there, catlike; he twitches two fingers in a weak greeting, and the gentle weight wrapped around him gives him another squeeze.

Kon’s here. Holy shit, Tim’s not dying tonight after all.

Kon drops out of the air and lands just outside the circle of light from the lamp on the center of the table. He lets himself make enough of a sound to catch the four mens’ attention; all of them whip around, peering into the darkness.

“Who’s there?!” Goatee demands, reaching for his gun. “Show yourself!”

“Well, if you insist.”

Kon stalks forward, into the light. His jacket hangs from his shoulders, his footsteps eerily quiet in the darkness. He carries himself with a predatory, catlike grace; his face is deceptively calm, but every taut line of his body screams with fury. His smile spells danger.

Tim’s breath leaves him in a rush of pure, heady relief. He’s safe.

“Aw, hell—” Glasses whips out his gun and fires—BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!—three shots, right at Kon’s chest.

Kon raises an eyebrow. Glances down at himself. Brushes a speck of imaginary dust off his shoulder.

“Okay, seriously.” He gestures at the House of El crest on his chest, clearly amused. “Does the big, red S on my chest mean nothing to you? I know you guys can’t be that dumb.”

[theendlessnessofbeingme]

Stephanie Brown’s music taste:

[vinelark]

i don’t remember if i ever shared this here, but a while ago i posted a little twitter thread about bats and gas station snacks and some very talented podficcers made a podfic of it! 🎧

[podfic] Jersey Vigilantes Don't Pump Gas by isweedan & reena_jenkins

original thread (text under the cut):

nested tweet reading: ever since i learned gotham is supposed to be in new jersey i can’t get this concept out of my head: [a badly drawn bumper sticker that says “jersey vigilantes don’t pump gas”] / quote tweet reading: the batmobile can’t just slip in and out of a gas station unnoticed. an employee HAS to go fill up the tank. meanwhile the tired night shift cashier knows the various robin eras because they come in to buy different snacks as time goes on.

one night while the manager is out filling *the literal batmobile* the cashier blinks and comes face to face with a child in a leotard and green boots, buying a pack of twizzlers. “thanks!” the first robin calls, somehow vaulting over two rows of shelves on his way out the door.

years later, after a stretch of quiet weeks, a new, curly-haired robin comes in and grabs a bag of flamin hot pepper puffs. the cashier doesn’t even think robin 2 actually likes them, but he looks really satisfied with himself every time he drops them on the counter.

(even after the second robin abruptly stops coming in, the cashier keeps slipping flamin hot pepper puffs onto their order list. no one else ever buys them, but it just—feels like the thing to do, somehow.)

a stretch of months without a robin, oddly tense. then the third robin appears, even smaller than the first two. he slips inside and buys a cup of black coffee and drains it in one go right at the coffee station, nervously eyeing the door like he’s afraid he’ll be caught.

the fourth robin, when she shows up, makes a beeline for the protein bars. finally, the cashier thinks, someone remotely sensible for this line of work. (though maybe not sensible enough—or maybe TOO sensible—because small caffeine robin is back a few months later.)

the fifth robin, when he first appears, approaches the counter. “you will direct me to the best snacks new jersey has to offer,” he tells the cashier.

“uh,” the cashier says. “i like sour patch kids, myself.”

robin 5 nods. “i will take a bag of sour patch children.”

(one night, not much later, red hood strolls through the door. the cashier has lived in gotham for over a decade now; they barely blink, even when nightwing bounds in after him.

“oh, shit, flamin hot pepper puffs,” red hood says. “i haven’t had these in ages.”

“aw, come on,” nightwing says, already holding a pack of twizzlers. “no one else can stand those.”

“why do you think i got them in the first place, dickhead?” red hood says. “to fend off new jersey’s number one snack thief.” and he buys buys every bag in stock.)

[jaysgirlx]

Airport Au!Jason gets coffee spilled on him right before he boards his flight back to Gotham and of course, he's the victim of hot coffee spilling all over his crotch. The good news is, Jason didn't suffer any burns and you were quite apologetic to him, nevertheless, he was still pissed at you and those clumsy hands of yours. To make matters worse, the two of you are seated next to each other on a 15-hour flight.

Airport Au!Jason lets you have the inside seat even though you ruined his favorite Wonder Woman t-shirt and kinda fucked up his black jeans. He even puts your suitcase away for you and he has no fucking clue why. Jason knew he didn't help strangers like this, not just be nice and flirty to girls like Dick did. But didn't do things like this for no reason especially not for pretty girls who- wait did he just call you pretty? Oh, he was so fucked.

Airport Au!Jason can't tell if he's mad at you or if he wants you. To him those feelings could be the same, he has no problem with wanting to make out with the girl who spilled coffee on his shirt. He didn't see a problem with wanting to make you his, it was an accident and you apologized a million times so maybe he should just forgive you, especially since you actually tried to clean his crotch. His self-control stopped him from letting you, but now he wishes he had let you.

Airport Au!Jason gets immediately bored after the plane takes off, he hadn't pack much because he likes to travel light. When his gaze falls in your direction, he notices that you are reading and annotating one of his favorite Sylvia Plath books and quickly starts to chat you up. You immediately light up when you find out he loves reading, especially classics and poetry. The two of you quickly got acquainted and introduced yourselves which was quickly followed by an apology. You didn't think boys who were smart and hot truly existed, you thought those were myths but Jason Todd was indeed very real.

Airport Au!Jason lets you nap on his shoulder and even orders your lunch for you so that you'd at least get some food when you woke up. You wake up to the boy thumbing through your annotations. You point out your favorite scenes and quotes and go into detail about what you thought their meanings were, well at least to you. You rambled for what might've been a good hour and fuck, Jason knew just by hearing you talk like this, he wanted to put his lips on yours so bad. Maybe shut you up for a second, not because you rambled but because your lips looked so delicious like he could devour them if he wanted. Maybe it could last more than a second, but that depended on what you'd let him do to you.

Airport Au!Jason can't help but want your attention sooo bad. He's chatting you up, making you laugh and for fucks sake why was your laugh so cute?? Why were so pretty to him? Why did you make him question every part of his being? It was like you were this missing piece he had finally found and he needed that piece. He needed you.

Airport Au!Jason jokingly warns you he's not good for you but that only makes you tilt your head with a big grin. You told him that you didn't want a "good" guy. You wanted someone morally grey, someone who understands that just because you've done bad things doesn't mean you're a bad person. You of course cleared up that you didn't support racists, homophobes, and such but you weren't past dating a criminal or even a vigilante if they matched your vibe. For a moment, Jason felt like you already accepted who he was, that you would still want to know him as the Red Hood. He hoped that maybe that was the truth.

Airport Au!Jason sneaks you into first class, pulling the "Bruce Wayne is my dad" card with the flight attendants, who swoon when Jason brings out the stolen Amex card. He'd give it back to Bruce another day or maybe just sneak it back into his wallet. The reason he gets you in so you can sleep comfortably because he knew there would be free seats (he's done this a bit too many times). You told him you didn't need to, that you liked napping on his shoulder, that he was enough but he said you deserved the luxury treat, not crappy shoulder. And it made you laugh because it was so cheesy, and Jason wished then and there, that he could hear you laugh like that for the rest of his life. Now, did he hate having to pull the "Bruce Wayne" card? Yes. Did he regret it? Hell no. Would he do it again? Yes…

Airport Au!Jason lets you play with his hair and even touch his neck scar while you lay in first class. You graze your finger across it and you feel him tense until he relaxes when your fingers lace with his. He lets you believe the white parts are dyed and tells you the scar was from a kidnapping incident that happened in his teens. You don't question him on it but instead, ask him if he still wants to know once the two of you land in Gotham. He looks at you with a cheesy grin. He says he doesn't have his phone on him but you could write your number on his arm. You knew he was joking but he was just so attractive. He enjoys the feeling of one of your hands combing his locks and the other intertwined with his.

Airport Au!Jason falls asleep with you in first class and when you two finally wake up, you decide to check how much time is left on the flight: 2 hours. A soft whine left your lips, from the thought of having to wait a a little longer to be able to kiss him. You could just tell Jason wasn't a fan of pda and if you did kiss him you'd definitely want it to be private. You told yourself to be patient and you knew you could be just a little longer, just for him. Jason on the other hand was an impatient asshole who ached for you, especially after hearing that goddamn whine. Were you trying to tease him? Because if you were it was definitely working. Jason couldn't wait 2 hours.

Airport Au!Jason brings you into the first bathroom and locks it behind him, even after receiving about of weird looks. He kisses you in with your legs almost instantly hooked around his waist and his arms holding you up against the wall. Your arms are wrapped around his neck bringing him as close as possible, while you clawed at his clothes. You weren't exactly sure where this was going but you wanted that coffee-stained shirt off him. You hooked your fingers on the ends of his shirt whining desperately to feel him. Maybe those clumsy hands of yours were good at something. And when he finally breaks the kiss, he only mutters out these words just for you, "Wanna help me get out the shirt you ruined, sweetheart?"

[clockwayswrites]

Masked Tidbit: A Threat

“Sorry to intrude,” Clark said politely. They weren’t the bashful words of a Midwest raised man though, this was Superman speaking through and through. There was an undercurrent of worry under those words.

Bruce and Diana looked about ready for war.

Dick stood to face the trio and, while obviously confused about what was going on, the rest of the Titans followed suit. Phantom stayed floating in the air, but sat upright.

“There’s been a threat made against Phantom,” B said, direct to the point as always.

“Phantom?” Gar asked incredulously.

They thought that Phantom could hardly be hurt. Dick knew better. Dick had seen Phantom bleed red. His hands had been coated in that blood. He took an unconscious half step in front of Phantom, as if somehow he could protect the other from the danger; a danger that Dick didn’t even know yet.

Bruce’s eyes tracked the movement. Dick couldn’t see Bruce’s eyes behind the lenses of the cowl, of course, but he knew.

Bruce hadn’t agreed about letting such a complete unknown as Phantom join the Titans, but this was Dick’s team, not his, so he really didn’t have a say in it. Still, it had been a near argument and a long lecture on accountability. It was a little cute how much Bruce worried, and how bad he was as showing it in a normal way. By this point Phantom might still be almost as much of an unknown, but there was no denying that he had proved his metal and loyalty a hundred times over. Dick thought that Bruce had even come to appreciate Phantom’s presence on the team.

And he had honored Dick’s order not to look into Phantom.

Or Dick thought he had. This brought up a lot of questions.

“Bruce Wayne was approached in Gotham,” B explained, as if sensing Dick’s question and potential anger.

“By who?” Dick asked since it seemed Phantom wasn’t going to. He always tried to have as little interaction with the Justice League as possible.

“Doctors Jackson and Madison Fenton.”

Phantom’s feet hit the floor. “Oh. That’s… you don’t have to worry about them.”

“They seemed rather assured that they could hurt you,” Diana said, her tone both soothing and commanding in that way she had.

With how close they were standing together, Dick could feel the motion as Phantom shrugged. “I mean, yeah, they can. But they’ve never managed to that seriously.”

Dick twisted enough to send a pointed look at Phantom. “What do you call not that seriously?”

Gashes weren’t serious, barely being able to stand wasn’t serious, broken ribs and bed rest wasn’t serious; Dick didn’t really trust Phantom in this.

“I mean, I’m still—” Phantom paused with a frown before continuing oddly. “I’m still around.”

What ever that pause was about made Bruce twitch which was very concerning.

“They want to rip you apart molecule by molecule,” Bruce growled.

Gar made a wounded sounding noise at that and Cyborg outright flinched.

“And that’s not an exaggeration,” Clark said, arms crossed. “That’s a direct quote.”

Clark must have been there as, well, Clark. Dick ran through everything that had been going on in Gotham that might have Clark there. It was better than letting himself dwell on those words. Two charity events. There was some sort of conference, Tim had talked about going to look for tech…

Phantom leaned forward just slightly and Dick naturally leaned back.

“Yeah, that’s just how they are about me. They’ve never captured me, at least not long enough to actually do that. They’re mostly just talk.”

“Son,” Clark said seriously. Phantom almost jerked at the word; Dick pressed more firmly back against him. “If they’re able to hurt you, then that is not just talk.”

“They’re just misguided,” Phantom almost pleaded.

“A misguided rogue is still a rogue,” B insisted with the certainty of a man who dealt with that constantly. He might as well fired a shot for how Phantom flinched and moved further behind Dick. Of course B noticed. “We’ll continue this in a conference room.”

Phantom’s “N’s coming with” overlapped with Dick’s own “I’m coming too.”

B rearguard them for a long, still moment before he nodded and swept off with a sweep of his cape.

Dick couldn’t do anything but follow.

---

AN: You didn't think the Fentons would let go of Phantom being a hero that easily, right? And before there's any doubt, B is 100% trying to protect Phantom here and aware (maybe even more than Dick) how important Phantom is to his son.

You can find the other parts and ao3 link for the first chapter here.

[dead-girl-tells-stories]

DC x DP Prompt

"I may think of you softly from time to time. But I’ll cut off my hand before I ever reach for you again."

//Arthur Miller, The Crucible: A Play in Four Acts

Trust me, I know it's just a quote but I believe that this would be such a good concept for the Demon Twin AU.

Like, I just imagine a scene where Danny and Damian are standing across the street from one another, Gotham traffic bustling between them. The sky is dark, and the rain is pouring. They have places to be just like the people they were blocking by standing in the middle of the street. But at that moment there was no fear, hatred, envy, or jealousy between the two. Only soft sorrowful longing as venomous green meets electric blue.

But the moment is broken when their respective families come up to them asking what's wrong. They both say it's nothing and move in the opposite direction, barely acknowledging each other's presence.

[necrotic-nephilim]

"I think you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to." - JayTim

send a quote and a ship and I'll write a short fic!

god this one is so good. this idea just. sat in my brain goo for days until i had the time to write it. this takes place like. right around Search For A Hero and before Battle for the Cowl, i would say, with dead Bruce and all, but before Red Robin. very fucked up one-sided feelings bc Jason is Jason and i love him. it's like 3.6k words and my partner edited it for me so. enjoy <3

It took Tim longer than it should’ve to notice the change.

With Bruce gone, Gotham was in upheaval.

No matter how much Tim did, there was always more. A new villain to fight, a new gang to take down, a new murder to solve. Gotham knew that the Batman was gone, for good this time.

Which meant they knew someone, something, could kill Batman.

That made Tim the fresh meat to go after. If the Batman could be killed, it shouldn’t be any harder to take down his Robin. Tim knew that every villain would want a piece of him and he had to prove himself. And for a while, he did. Tim was personally targeted by rogues, ready to be the Joker to his Robin.

Then it changed.

No one was pulling their punches, necessarily. But there was a change. Gangs that once had no problem facing Tim down were running in the opposite direction. Rogues gave up too easily, with an amount of fear in their eyes that didn’t quite match Tim’s reputation.

He should’ve noticed it sooner.

Tim knew something was wrong, at least. But he’d been so slow to notice it; now he was scrambling for answers. He’d interrogated half a dozen thugs and none of them gave him anything. Tim used every trick Bruce had taught him and still. He had nothing. It was just confirmation that they were hiding something. He was missing something, and he had nothing to show for it.

It reminded Tim of how the tide receded right before a tsunami- a quiet, deadly calm rolled over Gotham.

Someone was pulling strings. Someone was going right over Tim’s head, probably planning a big attack to sweep Tim undertow to drown in the chaos. And Tim didn’t have a single lead.

Waiting was always the worst part.

And still, the fires in Gotham burned. Whatever was going on kept getting pushed to the back burner so Tim could stop everything from human trafficking rings to street muggings. He knew he was stretched too thin, too exhausted to hold himself up.

It was a matter of time before Tim got pulled into a merciless riptide.

He just didn’t expect it to be in some grimy alley, losing a fight to a second-rate mob that jumped him.

Tim should’ve gone back to the Batcave when his shoulder got dislocated an hour ago by Harley Quinn instead of just setting it and carrying on.

He should’ve called for backup an hour before that, when he had to face all the Gotham Sirens on his own, leading to the chase with Harley in the first place.

And he definitely should’ve stayed home from patrol altogether, with ribs that were still cracked from a run-in with Solomon Grundy less than a week ago.

But Tim didn’t do any of that. Because if he was going to carry on any part of Bruce’s legacy, it was this: fighting until his body gave out under him.

Tim just hoped if this mob killed him, they wouldn’t dump his body somewhere embarrassing.

Though it was starting to look less like if, and more like when. Tim didn’t like to be pessimistic in a fight. There was always something more to do, one final trick to pull out of his arsenal. Just like Bruce taught him.

This time, though. Tim wasn’t so sure about that.

There was blood in his mouth. Blood in his eyes. He could barely stand, let alone hold his bo staff. It took every ounce of worn-out effort to block the endless blows raining down on his battered body, let alone try to punch back.

Tim always figured he’d meet a violent end.

He wasn’t sure where his comm link had skittered off to. It got knocked out of his ear under a particularly vicious blow to the head, cutting Tim off from any hope of backup. He was in this one alone.

Someone kneed Tim in his already brutalized ribs. He doubled over and groaned, falling to the ground.

He needed to get back up.

Tim’s arms were too shaky to support his weight. He just collapsed again. A steel-toed boot was raised above his head, ready to come down. Tim just closed his eyes and covered his head as best he could with his hands. Better broken fingers than a broken skull.

The boot never connected.

Instead, Tim heard gunfire.

He knew some of the men had guns, but this was a different kind of gunfire. The automatic kind, coming from a different direction. All Tim could do was watch with wide eyes as his attackers started to drop like flies tinged with red.

The ones who managed to survive the first volley of bullets were scrambling around, yelling at each other in a foreign language. Russian, maybe? It was hard for Tim to tell with his head swimming from blood loss, eardrums pulsing to the infernal beat.

From the darkness, a figure jumped down, landing in front of Tim, holding an automatic rifle over their shoulder. Tim blinked hard, trying to make out who it was.

“I only gave you miserable fucks one rule,” a cold voice growled. “Who wants to remind me what it was?”

Damnit. Tim knew that voice.

He was beyond screwed.

All the men froze. Stuttered apologies and pleas came out of half of them, messy and incoherent. They all sounded positively terrified, cowering in front of the figure.

“We didn’t know it was-”

“-just wanted to scare him-”

“He came to our territory first-”

“-but we weren’t going to kill him-”

Jason Todd fired a few shots into the sky, silencing all of them. Tim swallowed a mouthful of blood, his own heart reverberating against copper-stained teeth.

“I asked what the rule was,” Jason repeated slowly. He cracked his neck and pulled a knife off his belt, flipping it around for show.

One of the men was brave enough to step forward. “No one’s allowed to touch Robin. Sir.”

Tim’s breath caught in his throat.

What the hell?

Jason nodded slowly. “And last I checked-” he made a show of turning back to look at Tim. Under the helmet, Tim couldn’t begin to guess Jason’s intentions. “-there’s only one kid with a big R on his chest fighting with a bo staff. I was being pretty generous with all of you. Protection from the cops, from other gangs. All for one fucking rule.”

“Why are you protecting him, anyway? Vigilante freaks cause us nothing but problems-”

The man’s yelling was abruptly cut off by the bang of Jason’s gun and his brains splattering across the alleyway. A smear of pink landed on his bo staff; there was no coming back from that one.

“I guess I should’ve had two rules. No touching Robin and no asking questions,” Jason hummed lazily, as if he hadn’t just taken a man’s life. He shrugged. “I’ll add it to the tab.” He reloaded the gun.

Tim grabbed Jason’s ankle. “Don’t…” he coughed up a mouthful of blood, “don’t kill them.” It was pathetic. He could hold his own in a fight against Jason. He had before. But now, Tim couldn’t even stand and was left with barely enough strength to even grab Jason.

Like shooing away an insolent child, Jason pulled his leg free and clicked his tongue at Tim. “I’ll get to you in a second. Wait your turn.”

Then, he let loose. And there was nothing Tim could do but watch in horror.

Jason tore through every single one of the men like paper. their bodies dropped one by one because instead of the gun, Jason jumped in with his knife. For the fun of the fight, Tim guessed. Because it definitely sounded like Jason was enjoying himself, flipping through the crowd and throwing out a vile quip now and then.

In seconds, it was over. A pile of bodies with Jason as the indisputable victor, wiping his bloody knife off on his jacket. He walked over to Tim, perfectly casual.

Maybe he was saving Tim for the finale, to be killed by Jason’s own hand around his neck. That was the only reason Tim could think of for Jason being the reason rogues had pulled back so much over the past few weeks. Jason wanted Tim’s blood for himself, so he could make some kind of statement out of killing Robin. Or something like that, anyway.

“Up we go,” Jason said with a grunt, leaning over to Tim up like a sack of potatoes. Tim was hauled up with Jason’s hands under his armpits, then tossed over Jason’s shoulder, with an arm supporting him around his thighs.

At least the dead bodies couldn’t judge Tim for how utterly embarrassing he must’ve looked.

“Put me down,” Tim tried to say, but the words were so slurred they sounded like one long syllable. His head was spinning. Tim had heard of double vision, but never triple. Was that a bad sign??

“It’s pronounced thank you, actually,” Jason said, walking off with Tim in tow. Each step made all of Tim’s injuries feel far worse and he hissed, uselessly trying to claw at Jason’s back, the material of his gloves squeaking pathetically. “As in, thank you for saving my sorry ass, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Tim sputtered. He was getting blood all over Jason’s jacket and it was the only thing he could see, as his vision got more tunneled by the second. “Where are you…” everything hurt and consciousness was slipping away from Tim.

Jason said something. Tim didn’t hear it. His hands went slack, followed by the rest of Tim’s body.

His last coherent thought was a long string of expletives cursing Jason Todd out.

It took over a liter of blood to stabilize Tim. Stitches on his arm, stomach, and forehead littered his battered body. He was still unconscious on Jason’s coffee table, with a makeshift IV drip giving him fluids, stripped down to his boxers.

Jason was torn between being supremely pissed off at Tim getting jumped and being sickly fascinated by the sight of Tim being bruised and bloody. Perfectly laid out for Jason.

Maybe he should’ve thanked that Russian mob before killing them.

Jason knew it was just a matter of time before that mob caused him issues. They were no real loss to his empire. He was lucky he caught them in the act before it was too late.

One simple rule and some idiots went out of their way to ignore it.

Tim was Jason’s meat and no one else’s. Jason hadn’t been ready to mark his territory yet. This sped up his plan. There were so many steps Jason had to skip to save Tim. He had been waiting for Gotham’s trust in Robin to grow secure and rooted down, putting Tim on top of the world. Then a new Batman would step up, probably Dick. It’d leave Tim aimless and vulnerable, quickly forgotten by his city the moment they had someone in a Batsuit to worship instead.

And that was supposed to be the moment Jason swooped in and claimed Tim. Protecting him from all the big mean supervillains who were salivating for Tim’s blood that Jason had been holding back for so long.

He would be Tim’s fucking savior.

But a no-name Russian mob had to go and screw it up. Leaving Jason sitting on his couch, feet propped up on the same coffee table Tim was sprawled out on. Every now and then Jason nudged Tim with his boot, just to check how out cold he really was.

The latest boot nudge to Tim’s hip actually got him to stir.

Tim groaned, trying to move. His attempt to sit up failed pretty spectacularly. His arm gave out and he slipped, head loudly bonking on the coffee table. With the concussion he definitely had, that had to hurt like hell. Jason smirked, lighting a cigarette. Another pretty groan out of Tim’s mouth before he managed to open his eyes, blinking hard to adjust to his surroundings.

Jason didn’t rush him. He just watched as Tim looked around the safehouse, craning his neck. He ran his hands over his body, feeling the neat bandage work. Finally, his eyes settled on Jason, widening slightly. Jason could see the wheels turning in Tim’s bright mind, remembering what had happened.

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times, presumably trying to decide where to start. Jason took a long drag and blew the smoke in the direction of Tim’s face, making him cough.

“Why?” Tim finally said. His voice sounded a little raw.

Jason arched an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Why what?”

“You know what,” Tim snapped. He gestured to himself. “Why are you… doing this? Telling everyone I’m off limits and…”

“And saving you?” Jason finished, earning him a lethal glare. About as lethal as a kicked puppy could be, anyway. Jason snorted and shrugged. “Because I can.” No point in sharing a plan that was all fucked up.

“I don’t need your help,” Tim said through gritted teeth. He tried to sit up, slower this time. He still didn’t manage it.

Jason stared at him. “I’m sorry, would you have preferred Nightwing scrap what was left of you off the pavement after those asshats were through with you?”

“I can fight my own battles.”

“And lose them too. Clearly.”

An angry noise came out of Tim’s throat. “Did you just want to save me for yourself, or something?” Tim prodded, fist clenched at his side.

“Probably not in the way you’re thinking,” Jason said. He flicked ashes off of his cigarette onto Tim’s skin, pulling a hiss out of him.

Tim frowned. “What does that mean?”

“Figure it out yourself. Isn’t detective work your whole thing?” Jason made a show of adjusting how he was sitting on the couch as if he was getting comfortable. He moved to prop his feet up on Tim’s leg, one of the few places on his body that wasn’t covered in injuries. Using him like a little footstool.

Oh, that really pissed Tim off. Jason grinned wickedly, watching Tim try and fail to pull himself free. There wasn’t much weight on his leg, but he was still too weak to get his body to cooperate, leaving him to sluggishly struggle.

Tim’s face twisted. “If you think you could convince me to be your sidekick, you’re out of your mind.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a lap dog, actually,” Jason tilted his head back. “Much more submissive and obedient, that way.” He didn’t hide the obvious innuendo in his voice.

Tim recoiled. “Very funny.”

“I’m dead serious,” Jason shot back. “I don’t kill for just anyone.” Contrary to popular belief, murder was purposeful, with Jason. If he killed a lot of people, it was for a specific reason. It was a careful image of the unstable madman to make people fear him. But in reality, it was all planned. Every single body in the grave was carefully counted.

“You’re psychotic if you think I’d ever… submit to you.” Tim’s mouth twisted just having to say the words, utterly disgusted by them.

Jason scoffed. “I think there’s a misunderstanding here, Drake.” He pulled a butterfly knife out of his pocket, flipping it open. “You already belong to me. Every criminal in Gotham knows you’re mine. You’re alive because I’ve allowed it. You’re protected because I called for it. It’s a done fucking deal.” He took his feet off of Tim’s leg and brought them to the floor so he could lean up close to Tim’s pale face. “Understood?”

Like a perfectly rational person, Tim tried to headbutt Jason.

Jason pulled back, more for Tim’s sake than his own. He caught Tim’s head with his hand, forcing it back down on the table.

“I didn’t ask for your protection,” Tim hissed, breathing hard. “You can go to hell, Jason. I can handle this city just fine on my own.”

“I don’t really care if you can or not.” Jason pressed the knife to Tim’s throat, a dangerous warning against any more stupid attempts to fight Jason. “You can be Robin all you want. You can crawl back home to that disgusting cave and play house with all the other bats. I don’t give a shit how you live your life, Drake. So long as you know you’re mine at the end of the day-” he shrugged- “we can take all this slow. I was planning to anyway.”

“You were planning to…” Tim echoed, turning the words over as it sank in for him. “You were planning… what? To make me fall in love with you or something?”

Jason gave another nonchalant shrug. “If that’s how you want to dumb it down, sure.” The plan was far more sophisticated than that. Jason didn’t just need Tim to love him. He needed Tim to crave Jason, need him down to the marrow, and dedicate himself wholly to Jason. Be by Jason’s side as a strategist and partner.

They would get there eventually. Soon Tim would see and understand things from Jason’s perspective. His approach just needed to be a little more head-on.

More fun for Jason in the long run.

It was hard to read Tim’s expression. Maybe Jason was too hopeful to believe there could be some kind of arousal or intrigue there, but he could at least tell there wasn’t nearly as much anger as he expected.

Nor was there any disgust.

For a split second, anyway. Then Tim seemed to snap back to reality, trying to pull away from Jason and the knife.

“Over my dead body,” Tim said with as much venom as it seemed like he could muster.

“You know, I’ll do you a favor, Drake.” Jason lifted one leg over the table so he could sit on Tim’s midsection, making him yell in pain. Jason was a heavy son of a bitch, and his body weight did no favor for Tim’s sore ribs.

“What the hell are you doing?” Tim tried to shove Jason’s chest. He looked a little panicked, like a caged animal.

“I think,” Jason dragged out the words, just for show, “you need a little something to remind you of who you belong to. So I’ll be nice, to make sure you don’t forget it.”

He grabbed Tim’s jaw and jerked his head to the side. Tim cried out and tried to get away. He hit Jason in the chest as hard as he could. Which given his current state, was about the same as being smacked by a toddler.

“You should probably stay still if you don’t want a knife in your eye,” Jason warned. He lifted the blade and pressed it into Tim’s cheek, going deep enough to scar.

He didn’t even have to think about it. Jason knew exactly what he was doing the moment he pressed the blade to Tim’s skin.

A mark that anyone would recognize.

A mark just like the one Jason had been given, years ago.

The letter J could stand for a lot of things. And right now, it stood for marking Tim as Jason’s territory.

Jason dragged the knife down and curled it upward. Then he went in for the second cut, dragging across Tim’s cheek.

Tim had the sense to stay perfectly still while the blade moved. Pained noises came out of his throat and he was giving Jason a death stare, but he stayed still.

A perfectly obedient lap dog.

Jason hummed in satisfaction when his work was done. He flicked the knife closed and slipped it back into his belt, watching fresh blood pour down Tim’s face.

Now they matched.

For good measure, Jason bent over and pressed a kiss against the cut, holding his lips there and feeling Tim’s breath on his skin.

Jason pulled away, licking the blood off his mouth. His first time tasting Tim. It definitely wouldn’t be the last.

“I’m going to kill you,” Tim bit the words out through grit teeth.

Jason just smiled. “Don’t you have pesky bat morals about that?” He climbed off Tim, flicking more ashes onto Tim’s skin from the cigarette that had stayed between Jason’s fingers the whole time. He lifted it to his lips, breathing in. “Your suit is over there.” Jason gestured vaguely to the heaped pile of Tim’s suit.

“You’re-” Tim sputtered on his words. “You’re just going to let me leave?”

“I told you,” Jason hummed, wandering toward his fridge, “you can go live your life. I don’t care. You’ll crawl back to me when I want you to.”

“Like hell.” A loud grunt came from Tim and Jason looked over his shoulder, watching Tim slowly move. Every inch looked painful for Tim, but slowly, he managed to get his stiff joints to obey him.

All while Jason watched, offering absolutely no help.

Tim got dressed with a lot of swearing and groans of pain, occasionally shooting Jason a dirty look. He put a small bandage on his cheek, then limped away, leaving behind the shreds of his dignity.

Jason just smiled, finishing his cigarette and stubbing it out on the floor with his heel.

Tim would be back. He would make damn sure of it.

[brucewaynehater101]

okay so I think I recall an ask here about Jason and Tim who got JJ'd having to work with an alternate Good Joker and it got me thinking about those actor AUs where canon is just a live-action piece of media, specifically this post

So now I'm thinking of Actor!Joker having just left the bar after a good day of drinking, not drunk enough to not get home by himself, only to get non-lethally isekaied into DC

From his perspective, one minute he was walking home, the next he started seeing himself playing the most lucrative role in his career. Dissassociation if he had to guess. He might need therapy

Oh, the Joker he plays is trying to kill him. Self defense it is-- he killed him. well he can't fault himself for it if he never learned self defense now can he :/

Is that a camera? Oh yeah, Joker and loads of his other roles break the fourth wall, and improvisation is expected of him

He looks straight into the camera, the audience, "this is why we don't method act kids. hallucinations" he points at not-him with that final word

"but you all see me pointing at nothing, don'tcha?"

Fuck it, for added humor, the minute Batman gets on the scene & Actor!Joker lays eyes on him, he say "now I'm hallucinating my fiance's role too, what a day," and also Jason and Tim and Duke are there for maximum psychic damage

Hey maybe the three were hostages because the Joker wanted to torment the top three bats he fucked up the most on live television for all of Gotham to see only for Actor!Joker to ruin everything

But also the three seeing this go down through the screen would be funny as shit too

Actor Universe lore; Actor!Joker and Actor!Bruce met through previous roles, kicked off a friendship that became a relationship and soon to be marriage and thats how Actor!Joker met Actor!Bruce hoard of children

this would lead to much of the quote on quote Batfamily Plotline being concieved, through Actor!Joker and Actor!Batkids scheming together to make the most drama-filled superhero story they could

So Actor!Joker and Actor!Batkids would cook up the most gutwrenching ideas, building of eachothers ideas, and cheered eachother on as the Batfamily lore became more and more emotionally devastating

Actor!Bruce can testify because years later into Batman, he still cries fountains of tears when he reads the script and something awful happens to the roles his kids plays, or Bruce Wayne is a shit father

actor!joker: my love, I have propositions the directors will grovel for

actor!bruce: oh no

his kids: daddy I have a new idea for my role >:3

actor!bruce: OH NO!

I think it goes without saying that the actors and characters they play don't have the same name, but I can't be bothered to come up with any mysel lol

Yo!!! This is a wicked cool idea. I dislike Joker/Batman (unless it's the Lego Batman), but I am vibing with this one.

To add on, what if Bruce and Joker became directors specifically so they could sort of adopt their kids? They would be those actors that also direct and screenwrite their own movies.

I want to see Crystal Brown being on set (not necessarily on scene) whenever Steph is, and Bruce and Joker chatting with her when they aren't working. Arthur Brown makes plenty of jokes and pulls pranks on his daughter.

Willis and Catherine cheer on Jason (and sometimes *can't* be on set when certain scenes play out) and smother him in affection after he's done.

The Drakes have their own careers they have to pursue while Tim is filming, but they try to make it on set at least once a week and watch every premiere with Tim. They are good friends with the other parents and only allow Tim to be on set without them because they trust Bruce and Joker.

The Graysons are acrobats in real life as well. Dick wanted to pursue a career in acting instead. They support their son, and he often does performances with them.

Would Damian still be Bruce's kid? If so, I wonder what Joker and Talia's relationship is like. Talia is obviously a fierce but loving mom in this AU. She viciously protects Damian, his privacy, and his ability to stop acting at any time. Damian enjoys acting and being on set with his dad. I also hc that Talia is famous as well. Maybe a model, maybe another actor, or maybe something else. Ra's is the owner/head of a really famous entertainment business. It has branches all over the world, including America.

The Thomases take turns with who's on set with Duke. They both work as well so that a majority of the income Duke makes goes towards his savings or his own spending.

I didn't talk about Barbara or Cass or Alfred or Kate or etc., but feel free to add more!

Actor!Joker would be appalled and disgusted with Batman. Actor!Bruce was playing a role. Yes, the role was somewhat based on Bruce, but he would never harm his kids. He would rather kill than allow them to come to harm.

When Actor!Joker gets transported to that universe, his distaste for Batman is the truly jarring piece of it all. He's not obsessed like their universe's Joker. Actor!Joker shows understanding for their hatred/distance from him. He accepts their boundaries and considers their feelings (in his own very weird way). He doesn't torment. He killed the other Joker.

Just Joker's mannerisms of "whelp, what can you do?" as he murders the other Joker. He still laughs a lot, does harmless pranks, and makes a ton of jokes. Somehow, he does this while lecturing Batman on treating his kids better.

[dotthings]

Let me reiterate some things, because concern trolls love to concern troll

Some highlights from TV Line's summary of the GLAAD findings:

"36% of TV’s LGBTQ characters will not be returning next season, for several reasons including series being cancelled"

"LGBTQ-inclusive shows such as The Rookie: Feds, once cancelled, are not being replaced with similarly inclusive programs"

"LGBTQ inclusion on broadcast-TV series declined to a six-year low"

only a "fraction" of this decline can be assigned to the impact of the strikes

"new inclusive programming was not ordered to replace cancelled series such as Feds, Legends of Tomorrow and Gotham Knights"

Direct quote from GLAAD: "there is not a single series currently on broadcast TV that has an LGBTQ character as the sole protagonist"

GLAAD president and CEO Sarah Kate Ellis: “LGBTQ inclusion in entertainment is important to more than two in every five of all American adults, and 'super majorities' of LGBTQ and non-LGBTQ 18-24 year olds actively seek out queer-inclusive media — but only 38% are satisfied with how LGBTQ people are presented.”

These lacks make it even more egregious and horrendous how people yell and shame people for saying queer coded characters are queer coded and that it's valid and part of canon and if you also would like to see it become open that this is an attack on existing representation.

Are you f*cking kidding me!!!!!!????????

"But you already have--" OMFG KARENS SHUT UP, there isn't enough representation, there never has been, but now it's even worse, not better. Sit down, listen for a change instead of yapping off your ignorant mouths.

But okay, standom Karens. You're going to tag Misha and the CW like you're calling the TV network cops to report Misha for criticizing the state of representation in media and how CW Network stifled queerness on SPN and cry about "what about what GLAAD" said. Yes what about what GLAAD said? Did you even pay attention to what GLAAD is actually saying?

[erinwantstowrite]

SPOILERS FOR ANYONE!!

So after falling down the Peter in Gotham rabbit hole, I noticed a lot of other creators coming our or updating with fics with very similar ideas to you and alighterwoods. Recently, I saw someone talk about a fic with Peter being biologically related to Dick. Is that a common theme you think, with those two being related? Or is Peter with the batfam just a very similar fan base where they are all inspired? What do you think about that, and how does it make you feel to see creators having closely related to similar fics to yours?

There were a few of the Dick and Peter being related, and I remember reading some of them (I can't remember the names off the top of my head), but I don't think it was a popular tag before. But there are a lot more of them now after LoF, which is really cool to me! The Peter & Batfam tag has a lot of fics that are heavily inspired by each other (like the most common trope with Peter coming from a Laz Pit. I think that originated from Dark Matter, but don't quote me on that lol). I think with the more popular it gets, we might see more diverse tropes and aus shine through.

I love seeing all of the fics that people tagged LoF for "inspired by" on ao3, I read all of them! I especially love how much people enjoyed the way I write the spider-sense. I kind of took that from ITSV though (this might be shocking, but Miles is actually my favorite Spider-Man).

(Mild spoilers for Into The Spider-Verse under cut)

In that one scene after Miles was bitten by the spider and he goes back to look for it, then gets pulled into Kingpin's plan, there's that second where everything gets so quiet, and his spider sense comes together for the first time. This scene is one of my favorites. Making it look so much like a comic panel and having it be completely silent to mimic how the spider-sense is silent, like an instinct? I love it!

Like, it even being behind the windows to tell him the direction it's coming from, AKA, about to blast through that window??? I couldn't do that in a written form, but I definitely wanted to incorporate that feeling somehow. I figured that if I have the ability to mess with the formatting, why don't I make the spider-sense like it's own character, having it's own space to occupy?

I could go on for hours about the spider-sense I think (￣▽￣)"

[hollandorks]

haven

battinson! bruce wayne x f! reader

chapter five

Summary: After the sudden deaths of your mother and grandmother, you’re forced to return home to Gotham…and to the man who broke your heart three years ago. Back in Bruce Wayne’s inescapable orbit, you vow to get to the bottom of your former best friend’s new cold personality. But Bruce’s secrets aren’t what you’re expecting. a

a/n: I won't lie, I love this chapter, especially because it shows one of my favorite things about this reader very clearly--the fact that she only has one braincell. She's been surprisingly fun to write, even with all of the angst!

Series Masterlist

word count: 2.6k

The doors opened with a noise so loud she winced. 

When she looked up, she was face to face with a gun.

Y/n was afraid in a distant sort of way. It was, sadly, not the first time she’d been held at gunpoint pursuing a story. But the first time had been with a wire under her shirt and a whole bunch of cops around the corner. 

This time, she was alone. 

And the man on the other end of the gun was a cop. 

“Shit,” Lieutenant Gordon said and, mercy of all mercies, put away his weapon. “What are you doing here?” 

For some reason, the disappearance of the gun kicked the fear up a notch. Her heart suddenly tried to take flight. She took a deep breath, dizzy now, and managed to say, “Got a second for that interview?” Her voice was too high. Probably not the best time to crack a joke, but she obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. 

Behind Gordon was a shadow. 

No, a man. 

The Batman. 

His mouth was slightly parted, what she could see of his face…almost shocked. 

“You two look awfully surprised to see that someone followed you. The blindingly bright light wasn’t very hard to find.” She should shut up, she thought distantly. She still wasn’t sure if they could be trusted. But the fear was ebbing away, slowly but surely. 

Gordon pinched between his eyes, the movement pushing his glasses up to his forehead. 

“There’s a locked gate that requires a code. There’s barbed wire.” He sounded like Alfred when she and Bruce had gotten into something they were told not to touch or do as kids. Tired dad voice, they called it, snickering behind his back. 

She hooked her thumb in Batman’s direction. He still stood absolutely still, cape blowing in the breeze, his mouth closed now. “Followed this guy in.” 

Gordon looked over at the vigilante. “This is the girl you–” 

“I remember,” Batman said in that voice of gravel and smoke. It sent a thrill of fear through her. Actually, his voice was kind of sexy, now that she was thinking about it. 

She was losing her mind. She had barely slept in a week and she was losing her mind. She was with two men she wasn’t sure if she could trust, on top of an abandoned building where it would be very easy to kill her, and she was thinking of sexy voices. Well, one sexy voice in particular. No offense to Gordon, she thought wryly. 

“I’m also, um…a journalist.” This was directed at the vigilante. In her experience, honesty opened up more doors than it shut. She was usually pretty good at figuring out when to lie, particularly about her profession, and when to tell the truth. Or when to split the difference. She trusted her gut more often than not, and right now, she was relatively at ease. “Couldn’t help it, sorry.” 

“So you just…” Gordon waved a hand vaguely. 

“Followed the light? Yeah. I just hope it doesn’t lead to death like it usually does.” God, she needed to stop cracking jokes. She wasn’t out of the woods yet. “So if you’re going to murder me, can I please at least get a good quote first?” 

“This concerns her anyway,” Batman said, shocking her so much that she nearly toppled over the edge of the tower. And–oh shit, the tower was really tall and had absolutely no walls or rails or anything to protect her from the drop. She took a shaky step back towards the elevator, but it had returned down below. Heights had never been her friend. An irony, Bruce liked to point out, because she lived in a tower. Then that would almost always start an argument about what “irony” meant. 

“Are you sure?” Gordon said. The wind whistling in her ears made it hard to hear. She hoped the question wasn’t Are you sure we shouldn’t kill her? and was instead simply Are you sure we’re going to trust her? 

“We can always throw her over,” he said. There was something almost familiar about his voice, she realized, but then the words caught up to her. 

She gulped, dizzy again, but Gordon did a double take. “Did you just make a joke, man?” 

The Batman gave no indication that it had been a joke. She gripped the pepper spray tighter. Not that it would help her if she got tossed over the side, but it made her feel a little better. 

“He’s kidding, don’t worry. Tell her you’re kidding, she looks ready to puke.” Gordon crossed his arms, clearly not intimidated in the least by the hulking figure of the vigilante. 

“I’m kidding,” the Batman said with a cutting glance towards Gordon. “I don’t kill people.” 

She squinted at him, unable to clearly see him in the darkness. She really couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. She guessed he had to have at least some sense of humor about all of this. He was dressed as a fucking bat, after all. 

She decided to trust them. “Okay, which means I’ll be really upset if you make an exception for me. I’ll haunt your ass. Yours too, Gordon, because supposedly you’re the only cop who isn’t corrupt in this city.” She crossed her arms and shivered. As long as she ignored the sheer drop surrounding her on three sides, she’d be fine. “Though I’m not convinced yet. I’ve been gone from Gotham for too long.” 

“The force has changed a lot in a year.” Another look exchanged with the vigilante. “But I understand the sentiment.” 

Y/n glanced around, keeping her eyes on the view instead of the drop. “So no one else has ever followed you up here?” she asked curiously. She saw what she was pretty sure was a spotlight on the far side of the platform. “Because seriously, the light is a dead giveaway.” 

“His girlfriend did once,” Gordon said, and he smiled. “But no one else.” 

“Wasn’t my girlfriend,” the Batman mumbled. Mumbled. He was suddenly less scary when he sounded like any surly man denying any attachment to a woman. 

Her ears perked up. “Oh? She got a name?” 

They both gave her looks that said they knew exactly what she was up to. She shrugged, the perfect picture of innocence. It was worth a shot. 

She changed tactics. “You said this concerns me. What does?” 

“The murders you witnessed,” Gordon said. “We found ties to the Gallo family. I was coming to fill him in.” 

“The Gallo family,” she repeated. She knew this already, but better to play at ignorance in case they gave her more information. That and it hadn’t been confirmed by someone who was on the investigation team. “The mobsters in New York?” 

“The very same.” 

“Was the one who got away one of them?” she asked. Because that would be bad. Very bad. 

“We didn’t get any information out of the other three. One…committed suicide not too long ago, actually. Part of why I’m here.” Gordon sighed. “Getting rid of Falcone created a vacuum. The Gallos are just the first ones powerful enough to fill the space.” 

Falcone. She knew the name. Knew the story. Knew he’d been responsible for the deaths of Bruce’s parents. That was one death she hadn’t begrudged the Riddler–at least Thomas and Martha had gotten justice, in the end. 

The Batman turned and looked over the city. His figure cut a dark shadow across the city skyline. “Any ideas where to start looking?” 

“So you can bust some heads?” Gordon said. He was smiling. Y/n looked between them. It was fascinating. They were obviously close but this only confirmed it. She itched to take notes but she didn’t want either of them to snatch her phone. Damn, she should have set it to record when she was in the elevator. Gordon continued, “But no. We’re coming up empty so far. None of the typical informants have heard anything about the Gallo family. As far as we know, none of them are actually in the city. If they are, they’re laying low.” 

“Could you identify them again?” Batman asked. His eyes glinted in the darkness as he faced her again. She noticed he hadn’t come any closer to her, unlike Gordon who was only a couple of feet away. Instead he was near the edge, about as far away from them as he could get. Was it to make her feel better, safer? 

“Maybe, with the help of the video.” She knew eyewitness testimonies were shaky at best. And the more traumatic the event, the more unreliable the testimony could be. But a video helped and would do wonders in court. “What does this mean for me?” she asked. “Am I supposed to stay locked up forever, afraid to go out in case there’s a mob hit on me? Or even just a regular murderer trying to take out a witness? Because both of those are kind of shitty.” 

“Yes,” Batman said at the exact same time Gordon said, “Probably.” 

Her heart sank. 

“We’ve been protecting your identity as best we can,” Gordon said in a sure tone that again made her think of Alfred. She wondered if Gordon had kids. “But we can’t be sure there isn’t a leak in the department. We’re still plugging all the holes left behind from Falcone.” 

She winced. “Okay, I’ve done two bad things so far.” The Batman crossed his arms. Gordon motioned for her to continue. “First, I may or may not have been loaned out to the Tribune on special assignment to report on my own case. So the editor definitely knows my identity. And I also may or may not have reached out to a GCPD officer to be a source.” 

She heard the Batman sigh even over the noise of the wind. Gordon was pinching the bridge of his nose again. Their response made her feel like a little kid getting in trouble and it made her bristle. She bit her tongue to keep from immediately defending herself. 

“Which officer?” Gordon asked and his tone told her all she needed to know. He didn’t trust some of his fellow cops, if any. 

“He hasn’t even agreed to be a source yet, and besides I have the right to protect–” 

“Which officer?” Batman cut in, the sharp growl of his voice startling her. 

The sound of it made her spit it out. “Martinez.” 

Both men visibly relaxed. “Martinez is solid. There’s a reason I brought him with me to get your statement,” Gordon said. “We can trust him.”

“Okay, good. That’s good. See? I’m not a total idiot.” She relaxed marginally. 

“Maybe you’re just lucky,” Batman said. 

She laughed humorlessly. “Lucky? Well, buddy, you know what I was doing the same day I witnessed a fucking mob hit? Burying my mother and grandmother. And don’t even get me started on the rest of my personal life right now.” 

“He didn’t mean it,” Gordon said with a sharp look. “His humor takes some getting used to.” 

Batman mumbled something under his breath again that sounded a lot like I can talk for myself. But he didn’t actually butt in. 

“Okay, whatever. What can I do? I don’t want to be killed, obviously, and I don’t particularly like the idea of being locked in an ivory tower either, nice as it is.” What she didn’t say was that she wasn’t sure she could handle being locked in Wayne Tower with Bruce Wayne. She just couldn’t. She couldn’t be reminded of how close they used to be and the distance between them now. And all of that on top of the immense grief she experienced at unpredictable times. She never knew when she’d be reminded of her grandmother and subsequently that she was gone. Around every corner, through every doorway, was the potential for a punch to the gut when she remembered her grandmother was dead. 

“What can you do? Stop sneaking into construction sites at night, for one,” Gordon said with a soft snort. “But any information, anything, you come up with while working on this story, send it to me, too. And we’ll work with you on identifying that fourth suspect.” 

“You aren’t going to tell me to stop investigating?” 

It was the Batman who answered. “Would you actually stop?” His voice was rough on her skin, giving her goosebumps that had nothing to do with the cold or the fear of heights. 

She shrugged. “Probably not. But I don’t want to die, either.” 

“I’ll keep an eye out for you,” he said. He took a step forward. She noticed how broad his shoulders were, how sharp his jaw was, how his gloved hands were clenched into fists at his side. She really, really should have found a way to sneakily record everything. She was probably closer to the Batman than most people had ever been. 

She swallowed. “Don’t worry, Wayne Tower’s plenty secure.” 

“Still. I’ll be around.”

“That sounds a lot like stalking.” She raised an eyebrow. 

“I promise I won’t peek in your windows.” A twitch at the corner of his lips. 

“That sounded a lot like another bad joke,” she said. But she smiled.  

“Let me drive you home,” Gordon interrupted. He was glancing back and forth between them, eyebrows raised. She wanted to protest, but she doubted her luck had held long enough for her to be able to get a taxi back home. 

“What, that’s it? Two whole pieces of information and you go home? You guys don’t text or anything?” She crossed her arm. She really hadn’t gotten any more information that she didn’t have–except for the suicide of one of the suspects. If it even was a suicide. “This meeting could have been an email.” 

“Never know who’s listening,” Gordon said. He tilted his head towards the vigilante. “Besides, he’s paranoid. Only calls if he needs something. Hates texting.” 

She eyed the man in question. If he hated texting, maybe he wasn’t as young as she thought. Then again, Bruce hated texting too, old man at heart that he was. But he was the exception, not the rule. 

“I’d really appreciate it if you two kept me in the loop too. Quid pro quo,” she said. 

“For your article?” Batman asked. There was a certain edge to his words that made her think he didn’t like reporters. And really, it made sense. If she was trying to keep her identity a secret, she wouldn’t like reporters either. They were a chronically nosy bunch even when they weren’t working on a story. 

“For my life. If I survive this, yeah I’m going to write a hell of an article. But I kind of have to be alive to write it, don’t I?” She crossed her arms again and stared him down. 

“Quid pro quo,” Gordon said. “As long as you two agree to play nice.” He chuckled, like it was part of a joke. 

“Keeping her alive is nice,” Batman said. Another joke? Every interaction between him and Gordon solidified the fact that they got along well and were around each other often. No way Gordon didn’t know the guy’s real identity. But if they were as close as she suspected and if Gordon was as honorable as everyone said…no way was he going to let any hints slip. 

Her mind spun as the two men talked quietly about off the clock watches of Wayne Manor. She now had two very reliable sources for her article–if they really did keep her in the loop–and a new certainty that an op-ed for the Batman was in her future. She doubted any reporters in Gotham had spent as much time with the vigilante as she already had. Her veins thrummed with that inner fire. 

She might be able to expose a mob conspiracy and the Batman’s identity in one fell swoop. 

It was all she could think of as Gordon drove her home.

Next Chapter

taglist:

@ktficworld @grunge-n-roses5 @anon-cat-posts @projectdreamwalker @warsaur @lachillona02 @crazyunsexycool @doetic @alexiris @that-girl-named-alex @harry-bowie-mercury @vaniasagitaa @widows-writings

[ghost-bxrd]

what if jason wasn’t ever pit mad? what if his actions were his own regardless of how the family try to find something to blame? what if maybe possibly nothing got twisted, he just feels hurt and betrayed and rightfully angry to an extent that he cannot ignore, what would he have to say to dick or tim or bruce in that circumstance? he is so angry and the joker isn’t even around to deflect any of it. he cant come home because someone is in his place. the one person he always turned to wasn’t there. he doesn’t know who he is anymore and he can never go back to how things were. bruce didn’t believe him when he said the guy fell was so quick to assume the worst so why would he ever believe them when they try and tell him they miss him

I’m not sure if this is meant for a particular Au or in a more general sense, but I see what you’re getting at.

Yes I love pit madness, but this is also something super interesting (and important!) because it really plays into psychology.

Jason is suffering from PTSD that, as far as I know, has never been formally acknowledged or treated in a healthy way (the way it was in Gotham Knights, which, once again, I love that game). And you know what’s also part of PTSD? Anger. Anger management issues. Anxiety. Volatility. The whole nine yards.

Of course those symptoms don’t apply to everybody who has PTSD, so please don’t quote me on that, but for Jason they do.

He comes back to life. His previous trauma of being literally beaten within an inch of his life and then blown up only made worse by the experience of having to crawl out of his own grave. And then he gets taken and manipulated by a cult of assassins, made to believe Bruce replaced him with a new kid as soon as he was in the ground.

It’s… not a good combination for the kind of trauma Jason’s been through. If we assume he was in a vulnerable state of mind to begin with (which is entirely valid with what we know went down) and then subjected to ruthless training that didn’t teach him how to handle his trauma in any other way than violence? To direct his anger and despair at something tangible (Bruce and Tim and Joker) instead of coming to terms with the root of it all?

I think at that point Jason was grasping at straws. Something to keep himself afloat with. If he didn’t have his anger and his resentment towards his old life and the people in it, he would have been left with only fear and sadness and perhaps even a sort of vacancy that’s very difficult to handle without help.

The anger and the violence was better than the alternative.

[gffa]

One thing I did like about the ending of Gotham War is that I feel like there's some potentially interesting analysis of Bruce's character to be had here, because I find this whole thing 1000% more interesting viewed through the lens of Bruce backsliding on his core classic issue: He's terrified out of his mind at how much he loves these people around him and he struggles with having relationships with people who have fundamental differences to him. I keep thinking of that Tini Howard quote about this arc and about how it's not about whether or not Bruce and Selina can get together, but that he doesn't really know how to agree to disagree with someone he loves when it comes to something deeply foundational to him. And I think that's the entire point of including everything with Jason--that it's Bruce at a low point, after too much stress coming too quickly, too many major psychological pummelings over the last several arcs, and hitting a point where he can't deal with shoving aside his fundamental disagreements with Jason anymore. But he can't just write Jason off either, because Jason is his son, so his ten simultaneous mental breakdowns all get together and decide that the only option he can live with, is to try to force Jason out of this life. That's why he tries to talk himself into forcing Dick and Tim and Damian to be caught by the police, so they'd be forced out of this life. That's why he crumbles in an alley and tries to talk himself out of loving these people. Because he doesn't know how to agree to disagree with them and still keep loving them, keep having a relationship with them.

Because everything that happened with Selina, that he really let himself believe that he could be with her, marry her, and still be Batman, that really fucked him up and I think Gotham War is more of the aftermath of that. That's how I'm (admittedly doggedly) interpreting the bit about Selina and him being the "parents" of this group, despite that Selina was never in that role--I think Bruce wanted them to be the "parents" of the group and let himself believe in it and, when it went pear-shaped, something in him backslid terribly and now we're all here. "I'm okay with me not having happiness." is a direct call-back to Bruce in the car with Alfred on the way to the wedding, asking with surprising vulnerability, "Am I allowed to be happy?" He opened his heart and got hurt again and it's been stewing for awhile and so much has happened since then--Zur-En-Arrh, Tim getting his throat cut, Dick coming to cheer him up after Selina and getting shot in the head and Bruce almost losing him, Failsafe, Insomnia, everything that's going on over in Gotham Nocturne, etc.--that it fractured something in him and the cracks have finally grown deep enough that it fell apart in this story. So now all of this is just mounting tragedies to him. Which means he can't stay connected to it because he's too afraid of losing them and he's unwilling to try after what his fracturing led him to do. He can't stop them from living this life, despite everything he tried. He can't stop loving them, despite how hard he tried. So, all he can do is walk away before he gets hurt again, trying to leave everything in Dick's hands. Dick who is "better than Batman", who is better than Bruce. That he wants Dick and Barbara to be the "parents", because that's what he was trying to be and felt he failed at it, like to me this ending isn't really resolution, this is a low point for Bruce as a character in his bigger arc, because I think Batman's character arc always has to come back to his trauma of losing his family when he was young, working to let a new family in, coming to love them, and struggling against how much it terrifies him that he might lose them, too, because he doesn't think he can survive that kind of pain again. He'll still be in Damian's life, still be Batman and Robin there, but I think he's making an exception there because so much of it comes back to being able to live with fundamentally disagreeing with someone--Dick and Jason and Tim are adults, he can't tell them what to do anymore. Damian is young enough that, even if they clash, he's still directly in charge of raising him.

Zur-En-Arrh does hang over this entire storyline, he's part of what's taking up too much space to allow Bruce any mental breathing room, but fundamentally I see this storyline as part of Bruce's issues: That he's terrified of losing those he loves, but he can't control them, he desperately tries to and it doesn't work, and he can't live with them taking different paths from his ideals, so he walks away, rather than get hurt further. Bruce is probably going to dig himself further down into this hole and he's being incredibly dumb about it, but I can see how this fits all things that he has always struggled with--and sometimes he loses that fight against himself. This event wasn't really about fighting with Selina or Vandal Savage or even his kids--this was Bruce's love versus his fears, and today his fears won.

[theamatuer]

“I grew up in a series of death and prison camps throughout the galaxy. Most of them felt less dangerous than this place. Gotham City. It always surprises me that someone as warm and wonderful as Jason was raised here.”

Red Hood and the Outlaws: Volume 3 Death of the Family

This quote from Koriand’r combined with Roy confessing that he snuck a tracker on Jason’s phone is so deeply revealing of how much they care for him. I would even go as far as to say it shows how much they love him. Jason’s character is often defined by the violence he inflicts and the anger he directs at Batman and anyone else that crosses his path, and this blatant show of these two characters describing him as “warm” and “wonderful” and worth keeping track of to make sure he’s safe is incredibly important to his character and to me, personally.

We don’t get enough of him talking about his favorite books, we don’t get enough shown of his love for school and learning, his theater kid tendencies (most of which is shown in a fire fight), and his more nurturing side we see in his cooking and cleanliness for himself and others, his affection and love for Roy’s kid. I think it’s why I often struggle to connect with movies and shows as they rarely focus on the characters through anything other than the action and adventure itself.

So, we see who he is through the people closest to him: Kori and Roy. And while their perspectives may be warped by their own pasts and behaviors, I think it also indicates just how much comradeship they find in each other. All three of them have been betrayed in the worst ways possible and forged and found a new sense of trust and love in each other.

Their loving view of Jason is not inspite of his often violent behavior, nor is it because of it. They love him because they recognize themselves in those actions, and so are able to see beyond it to the core of his being, and he treats them the same way in kind. I hope to see more of their dynamic displayed this way forevermore.

[vechter]

which batkid do you think is the best at annoying bruce?

also which one is he most overprotective of? :D

i'd say they're all uniquely skilled, albeit in different ways:

dick's known him the longest, except maybe alfred, so he's always ready to throw hands when bruce pulls his usual nonsense. he knows bruce's MO and frankly, he's tired of it. this quote from alfred in gotham knights #1 summarizes it best: the only thing more certain than master bruce's tendency towards autocracy is master dick's tendency towards one-man mutiny.

cass is able to see through his bullshit and also, she's just like bruce- she doesn't care what he or babs are saying- she'll do what she thinks is right. and that pisses bruce off bc why is no one just willing to listen to him but also leaves him proud. i also think she can probably sense a spiralling bruce from a mile away and she will call him out on it!

tim is just forever playing the weirdest cat and mouse game with bruce; a fake uncle, running away to paris or blüdhaven, lying to bruce's face, getting up to the weirdest shit with yj and never telling bruce about any of it. but while it annoys bruce, it also deeply endears him to the kid. the robin that stepped up, anon!

damian is my fav, though. takes no prisoners, forever talking shit to bruce's face. he's so funny- all that preteen rage directed at his deeply disturbed father. i wish i could be bothered to find all the panels where damian has said the most savage shit but it's very, very entertaining. canonically talked shit about bruce to martha and thomas wayne's graves. he's a hero <3

jason annoys him but post-resurrection jason brings with him the most fucked up flavour of warped nostalgia-grief-hurt. so all of jason's witticisms or moves that outsmart bruce are offset by the fact that he was once dead and bruce buried his son.

as for his overprotectiveness- it's weird to consider. like he worries for all of them but this man does not learn from his mistakes- he thinks benching his kids will save them but dick grayson, age 12, already proved him wrong. you'd think this insanely intelligent man would come up with a different way but alas.

but i do think that dick gets the biggest portion of batman's zealous overprotectiveness directed his way. like he and dick raised each other, you know? it's sometimes hard for him to look at dick and actively realize that dick is an entirely skilled and capable adult, not the grieving kid who barely reached his waist.