#gotham in general

[bruciemilf]

Time travel AU where Flash accidentally resets the timeline by moonwalking.

Moonrunning? Moonjogging? He hasn’t decided yet.

All he knows is this; When they figure out how to retrieve the Bat and his birds from ‘94 Gotham, his ass is grass.

—-

Bruce breaths Gotham in. It tastes like stale piss, expired cigars, and sinful intentions.

Tim is trying to build a Doctor Who time machine out of a payphone.

It’s held together by sticky gum and spite. The profanities scribbled on the glass are so strong Jason blushes.

Dick, ever so tortured, looks like a war vet who lost blinking privileges. “I’m pretty sure I just saw someone throw a body in a dumpster.”

Steph’s attention gravitates to a pair of rats robbing a cat for a can of tuna. Duke refuses to engage with this foolery, frankly.

“We don’t even exist yet. How does that work. How do you just exist one moment, and then you don’t. Only in Gotham, dude.”

Jason snorts. “You want the funny answer, or the real one, twinkle toes?”

Damian, for a lack of dignified description, is cranky.

He was supposed to watch animal planet with Batcow and Jon. It’s past his bedtime. Bruce gently patting his back is NOT adequate compensation.

He’s about to tell him, don’t worry, baba is going to fix it, but—

Bruce’s world, momentarily, incapsulates two figures bickering in front of a restaurant.

Not hateful. Intimate and knowing and intense, but not hateful.

Thomas. Nursing a cigarette with a rapidly declining lifespan, and Martha, looking like she told Gotham to chew glass and get a better wardrobe.

Bruce? Bruce carried his 8 year old corpse under his ribs for 30 something years, and it’s the first time he felt it move.

He doesn’t think. Not really. He just walks. Stares.

“You good, kid? You look like if Edgar Allen Poe fought a raccoon and died.”

Bruce’s thinking capacity is reduced to zero.

He doesn’t know if it’s Dick or Jason who cursed behind him. Just that he crumbled in Thomas’ arms and wailed.

[shyjusticewarrior]

Something something Jason projects his child self onto the kids he saves

[breesperez139]

DC x DP Prompt #9

Danny couldn’t do it anymore. The death, the destruction, the manipulation. Everything about the LOA became too much. His grandfather, his mother, his brother, it was all too much. They attempted to turn him against his brother, it didn’t work. They probably tried to do the same with Damian. Danny likes to think that it wouldn’t work, that Damian was too smart and kind for that, but Danny’s the coward who ran from his brother five years his junior. He doubts Damian even deigns to remember him.

Leaving the LOA isn’t easy under normal circumstances. Trying to leave as a member of the Royal Family, unthinkable. There was no escaping his wretched family alive. So he died. Crown Prince Danyal Al Ghul, eldest son of Queen Talia Al Ghul, died.

It had been all over the news for weeks. His birth had stabilized their small country knowing they had an heir to take the throne. His death had scandalized the world. He was the crown prince that died soon after his 10th birthday and received no funeral. Even the details of his death remained obscure. Officially, this was “cleared up” by his mother stating his funeral and cause of death being private familial matters. The truth was unimportant as there was nothing his family could do about the conspiracies surrounding his death that spread across the media.

Deceiving his family into believing he was dead without a body for them to recover was incredibly difficult. But he was free now and no one knew the truth. Not his parents, not his siblings, not his friends, nobody.

Until Jason. At some point before Danny “died”, Talia had found and brought home Jason. She did not tell Danny where she got him from or why she brought him home, but Jason became his older brother either way. Talia deemed Jason too unstable to meet Damian, so he was kept away from their little brother.

In all honesty, running into him again was an accident. Danny nearly had a heart attack when Jay confronted him during one of his week-long out of state school field trips. The beautiful life he created for himself hung by a thread as Jazz, Sam, and Tucker learned of his background. The fear was suffocating but Sam and Tucker visibly reacted more to him being a prince than to him being an assassin. Being a feral gremlin child will do that apparently.

And so Jason left, sort of. The five of them stayed together for the rest of the trip and then parted ways, but they never lost contact. Jason made sure to visit Amity Park a minimum of twice a year. Danny wanted to hide Jason from their parents at first, but Jazz refused not letting her twin get to know their parents. Yes, twin. The day Jazz found out he was a natural redhead, she proclaimed them twins (even if Jay kept his hair dyed black most of the time). Although their birthdays were months apart, they were born the same year and Jack and Maddie did nothing to discourage Jazz when they finally met their “long lost son”. Poor Jay never stood a chance.

A few years later, Bruce Wayne would reveal he had a biological son named Damian, Queen Talia’s second son. Jason would be furious enough at Danny to rush in without thinking and Danny would do what he’d been trained to do all his life: he’d manipulate his way out. Because as much as Danny hated manipulation, he was pretty damn good at it. And Danny, he would ensure Jason loved him more than he loved Damian. Because love is a powerful tool. It makes people blind. Most people don’t notice they are being manipulated. Others, willingly gouge out their own eyes for you. And whether he meant to or not, Jason is one of those people.

[erinwantstowrite]

Hi Erin, I have a question. Is Dick Grayson jealous of Richard Parker because of Peter??? What I'm trying to say is that no parent would trade their child's first steps/words etc. and in our case, Dick saw none of that.

the most prominent feeling he has for richard is devastation

this version of himself almost had everything (thought dick isn't as aware of this yet as he could be) and then he lost it in the blink of an eye. the idea that he could die, his partner could die, and leave his kid without them just like his parents had to? devastating. he probably already has this fear in himself, heightened because of his vigilante work. when he was a kid nothing like that mattered but now he's an adult and the possibility is there. how could he bring a kid into the world if it was possible to put them through the same pain that he was put through? and this other him wasn't even a vigilante. he sees peter and that resilience and he can't help but wonder who the hell gave that to him. he doesn't even know that it's him (and ales)

he does envy richard underneath all of that. he wants to know how he got past that fear of having kids, what it was like for him to hold peter for the first time. he wants to know what peter's first word was and what TV shows he watched, of richard told him the same stories mary grayson told him at bedtime. then he starts thinking about how richard would be envious of him, for getting to see peter as he is now

[dyinggirldied]

Gotham Academy is super old and like any other prestigious private boarding school, it hosts a lot of skeletons in the closet.

For Danny Fenton, godson of Vlad Masters, who just transferred to the academy after the tragic death of his family, it meant the place had quite some ghosts that were lost or unable to move on. Some reminded him of Pointdexter and Jazz even.

He decided to fight for them, to find justice for their injustice dues, if nothing else.

Now if only a certain Wayne didn't butt his nose into Danny's business, it would be great.

[welcometogrouchland]

my Stephanie Brown hot take is that she should get mad bitches now that she's single in comics. Yes yes shipping BUT the one time she had sex she was punished by the narrative via teen pregnancy. I think she should be allowed to have as much sex as she wants with zero consequences. Could be a lot of sex, could be a little. Point is she should get to do it without getting narratively baby trapped this time. she should get them pregnant, actually.

[batfam-belfry]

I like what they were going for with this series, but let's be real: Bruce would be the last person to promote therapy

[riddler-enthusiast]

[enticeless]

#WayneVegasWedding Part 1

[thecorefrisk]

Snippets I will eventually string together (will be updated & edited as time goes on):

‘ “Why did you… never present? When you were with us?”

Sable stills and stiffens. Hands, hands, hands- too warm, too hot, too heavy- they grabbed at her, too gentle, too gentle for the crime being committed—

She forces her fingers to continue on with their petting, running her nails through the cat’s fur in a manner that was more for her than for him. “What do you mean?”

Sable could feel Damian’s eyes upon her. She could feel how they were trained onto her figure, rooting around for anything in her body language that could tell him everything without further questioning.

There wasn’t.

He put his paintbrush down gently, turning to face her. His feet touched the ground now instead of swinging mid-air on the tall chair he insisted he would grow into. (And he had.)

“Well..” the boy began carefully. Usually, he prefers a blunter approach, to cut to the chase and not waste any valuable time, but… that approach wasn’t the one that worked on her, was it? “You have been here much longer than I have.”

Sable carefully lures out any defensiveness or snappish feel as soon as she felt it rise in her body. He doesn’t deserve that. And it would just be suspicious. Another reason for him to prod. “Yes?”

Sable doesn’t like when Damian got like this. Gentle voiced, careful, as though a bomb was ticking just meters away from the two and she had the detonator in her hands. And he didn’t know if he could trust her with it.

“And yet…” he pauses, rethinking his words. Hesitating. She felt like snapping at him. But she doesn’t. Because she isn’t an animal. (She can control herself.) “When the time for your presentation should have come… it didn’t. We were all awaiting it and yet somehow- somehow you were… still a pup at the age of sixteen.”

She hums, her gaze casted down onto the fur against her palms. “I don’t know,” she says. “I didn’t get to ask my mother many questions about the age of her presentation. It could have been the environment, the air of Gotham isn’t exactly the cleanest. Or perhaps she had been a… late bloomer as I was.”

Damian’s fists clench in his lap. “A late bloomer…”

It was likely something in the way she had said it. The emptiness of her voice. The detached way she spoke of it all. But they both knew she was lying, avoiding the real answer.

But, for now, Damian doesn’t push and Sable didn’t continue.

He turns back to his painting. She continues messing with Alfred.

Neither shared another word for a long time after that. ‘

‘ She lifted the head up to Ra’s’ eyes, her glare locked onto his green, green eyes. She tossed it over to him. It fell only a foot or two away from him and rolled over lay limp and bloody at the man’s feet.

“Give me back my brother.” She raised her stolen blade. Though it need not be clarified, Sable still raised her sword in a silent show of what she was willing to do if he did not abide by her demand. ‘

‘ In Wayne Manor, Sable always felt like… she was on the outside looking in. She wasn’t a vigilante, and she didn’t help them perform those duties like Alfred and Barbara did. She was simply.. there. A ghost in her own home, barely a whisper in the wind.

There would always be jokes she had to force herself to laugh at but didn’t get because she simply wasn’t there. Arguments she didn’t know the origin of. Recitals and parent-teacher conferences missed for something she’d never truly be able to understand. Times where she’d have to clench her fists in her lap and smile as her little brother walked off into the Gotham night and what could be his death.

Sable was ashamed to admit it, even silently, but she often found herself having to stomp down jealous, frustrated tears as one of her siblings had to gently correct her on someone’s allergies or informed her of some hobby or thing they did that they never found the time to share with her. Another thing she had to find out from someone else.

It shouldn’t have felt like such a big deal to her but it was. It was just so frustrating— putting in so much effort and time and love into them only to never actually be a part of their lives.

There are portraits she’s not in, family photos she wasn’t there to be a part of, shenanigans that they never thought to include her in.

It was childish of her, but yes, she was jealous.

Jealous of not only the bonds they had— bonds that Sable seemed to be entirely separate from— but of other families who never had a child running around unattended. The families who made sure to include every member. The families who made a point to make it to school events. The families who simply… got each other.

Because no matter what she did, what she tried, she always found a way to mess up. If she makes a pie, someone’s allergic to one of the ingredients. If she tries to ‘put herself out there’ and invite someone to hang out with her, they always seem to slip through her fingers.

(Sometimes Sable wondered if she was simply too boring for them. Too bland. That maybe they’d stick around if she was someone worth giving attention to.)

(She tried to be fun. Took on more hobbies than she could handle, went into more competitions than she could handle, hell— she started figure skating.

But she couldn’t pretend to be someone she wasn’t. She couldn’t become someone else.)

It wasn’t to say that she didn’t know them at all, that they were strangers to her. She did know them— it just never seemed like she ever knew them enough.

It was as though they all had this secret language and somewhere along the chaos that had been her joining the family, they’d simply forgotten to teach her. And now it was too awkward to ask to learn.

She’d say completely normal things and get weird looks, she’d try to show affection to one of her siblings and they’d reel away from her without explanation as to why as though she carried some deadly disease yet they’d welcome it other times, their scent full of distress or shock, just- anything she did was always wrong even when she got it right, and if she got it right, it was only for that moment.

But, again, it wasn’t like they were complete strangers to one another. Sable is close with Tim. Or was, at least. Sable had been dumped onto her father just around the time he’d lost a child while Tim had more so… simply appeared one day. And suddenly they were friends because what else were they supposed to become when they were simply two people in a grieving man’s house.

Tim was usually the one with the more direct approach towards Bruce. Sable, on the other hand, needed to be gentler because looking at her seemed a little more painful than it was to look at Tim.

(She had only found out just why when she’d decided to explore the attic and found an old portrait of a smaller version of her father along with a two smiling people— man and woman— who looked out into the world with kind, loving eyes.

Sable had walked out of that attic with the knowledge that, to Bruce, she was just another person to grieve in the end. That she looked too much like a dead woman for him to ever look at her properly, for him to look her in the eye and see her and not the mother that never truly got to raise him.)

But eventually, Bruce got better. He still had his moments, but he didn’t need them to be his crutches anymore.

And with that, slowly, Tim’s life became devoured by one she couldn’t be a part of. For as much as he had, at the start, told her pretty much everything about what it was like to be Batman’s Robin, he grew to be more suspicious, private. Secretive.

(Sable could do nothing but watch as the life of a vigilante swallowed every other part of her brother’s life, leaving behind only a domino mask and a baton ready to be wielded at even an ally at a second’s notice.)

So, it was safe to say that they weren’t as close as they used to be. (To the fault of neither party.)

And, to the almost offensive surprise of the rest of her family, Sable was rather close to her little brother— the pup of the family. Damian.

They were only half-siblings, and when they first met, Damian had been more inclined to spew threats and call her a ‘bastard child’ more often than not, but it seemed that patience actually did win out when it came to the boy. Despite his animosity, and her own slight and irrational envy, Damian and her did develop a genuine sibling bond.

It was a bit like approaching a stray cat. You had to make sure you looked the least bit threatening to them before deciding to approach them.

And having food in hand worked. But that worked on any person with an appetite. (She’s sure Jason only comes to Sunday brunch because he knows good food is guaranteed.)

It took a while, and some effort, but they did get to the point where Damian felt safe enough to sleep in her room during those nights that Dick wasn’t over or couldn’t answer calls. It took a lot of trust from him to allow himself to let his guard down around her, and she’s very proud.

But even with the close relationship they had, there were still things she didn’t know. Places she didn’t get postcards of, paintings he never told her about.

And boundaries he only knew how to enforce through violence.

Sometimes, people didn’t want to be touched. Sable understood that. Sometimes, she doesn’t feel like giving nor receiving any hugs.

But it was hard to guess how a person didn’t like to be touched. Where they didn’t like to be touched.

It had been an accident. They had been in the kitchen where she had been showing him how to make a stew that she only really knew how to make because she had to run the Scottish table during Culture week despite clearly not being Scottish.

She had gone to pat his head, it looked like she was reaching for his neck, and suddenly, there was a knife to her arm.

His face had dropped in thinly veiled shame and horror, the kitchen knife shaking in his grip as he pulled it away from her as to not accidentally slice her arm.

So she stopped patting him on the head. Then, she stopped reaching for his hand so he didn’t get lost in the crowd. Then, she stopped touching him at all.

And even when she was doing nothing, she did it wrong.

‘

[farshootergotme]

I've read too many batfamily fics. I need to read a fic that is about Dick spending time with everyone EXCEPT the batfam.

[haveihitanerve]

Bruce makes it in time to get to Jason. But… is it enough to save him?

“Master Bruce-“ “I’m almost there Alfred.” Bruce bites back, almost breaking his wrist by how hard he twists the motorcycle accelerator. And he is. He can see the warehouse. Bruce lands, not even bothering to slow, leaping off the bike as it crashes into the trees and he sprints for the doors, terrified he’ll make it too late, that he won’t be fast enough for his son. The door slams open, Bruce not even bothering to check if it’s locked or not, just plowing it down, and hurries inside, spotting his son within a moment. Jason opens his eyes in surprise, mouth curving to form a perfect O. “Br- Batman.” He whispers, voice hoarse with disbelief. Bruce rushes to his side, cupping his cheek, cradling the boy- his boy, to his chest. “Jay. Jay bird. Jaylad. Hey firecracker. Hey bud.” Jason’s eyes fill with tears and Bruce does his best to wipe them away, to press a kiss to his son's forehead. “You came.” Jason whispers, tears clogging his throat. “Of course baby.” Bruce murmurs, rocking back and forth. “Of course I came, baby. I will always come for you. Always.” He presses another kiss to Jason’s head. “I love you son. I love you, I love you, I love you.” “I love you too-“ Jason rasps, but his eyes catch something on the wall behind him. “Dad, wait- the bomb-“ the explosion shakes the very earth, and Gotham seems to curl in on herself, screaming with a pain and rage that is unimaginable. In a basement cave in the middle of Gotham, a butler's hands go cold. A man, wearing a blue mask a city over, suddenly feels a chill sweep over him, and something inside him, probably his heart, feels like it’s been torn in two.

Their bodies are found, or at least what’s left of them, two days later, the larger man wrapped almost completely around the smaller, cradling his boy to his chest. Nightwing almost beats Joker to death and is only stopped by three others, all of which seem just as inclined to kill him, but resist. Gotham mourns, earthquakes shaking the ground, warehouses crumbling to dust, and Joker is found drowned in the harbor, the fishes whisper of a presence so old and strong even the biggest fish feared her, and Aquaman shudders. Gothamites mourn their fallen Prince and his adopted son, but Gotham mourns her prodigal sons, her children, her oldest and youngest, and cradles the last survivor to her chest, cloaking him in shadows and gifting him all the things she did not give the others, the things she thought they wouldn’t need so long as they had each other, the things she had not yet granted them ready for. She drapes them over the young, jaded hero, gifting him sight and smell and sound, allowing him to control her shadows and her streets and most of all… gifting him flight, the way his namesake first claimed, the way her firstborn child and her youngest were never able to. The Vulture takes to the Gotham skyline like a moth to open flames, perhaps a little less withdrawn with his punches, perhaps a little more protective of young boys, but belonging to Gotham all the same. The Joker stole something from her, and she will never allow it to happen again. The Vulture gains followers, friends, the Starling, the Goldfinch, the Owl, the Crow, the Cardinal, and Robin, all under Gothams protection, and she has him watch, from his watery prison, as they protect her, defend their city from the ilk like him, not giving in to their rage and revenge, but helping, rebuilding Gotham in his image. Their image. The man who saw hope, and his son. Batman and Robin.

(In case it was unclear, the three people pulling dick away from Joker are Babs, Kate and Luke, and then the Vulture is dick, and his friends, in order as listed, are Stephanie, Duke, Babs, Cass, Tim, and Damian. Also Gotham does kill Joker because she knows dick cannot but she also keeps him half alive, suspended in time, destined to drown for all eternity and watch as the bats succeed in honor of Batman the man he fought against.)

[fantastic-nonsense]

sidenote but Cass has to be 19-20 during the Under the Red Hood saga (and thus 20-21 during OYL and 21-22 during the Reborn era) because she's 7 months older than Jason and Jason was 19 during that arc

[raydiantdmg]

BLORBO ALERT!!

Starting strong with the crowd favored tiny Jayvik

Next up is my personal most beloved 2019 TV Gotham’s penguin and riddler mini-fied

You’d never expect a chibi kylux to be there in the lords year of 2025 yet here they are

And finally the entire cast of the best zombie game to ever exist, left4dead2, but like, small and plastic

+ bonus bill

Recently dug the pony beads and peelers out of the early 2010’s raver vault to rediscover the joys of growing a collection, an army of blorbs, now for you all’s viewing pleasure, enjoy.

Thanks ily I appreciates ya make peace eat war buy gold!

[puppetmaster13u]

I am rotatin @phoenixcatch7 Possessed Doll Au. And just had a realization.

Gotham would start having little mini dolls of the bats, wouldn't they. Like they would have Batclan merch and little good luck items. And that would definitely include people's best attempts at recreating each of the batfam.

Like can you just imagine Bruce, in his puppet body, getting approached by small child who excitedly shows him the tiny matching plush. To the rest of the league's bemusement because they find Batman very unsettling lmao.

[shyjusticewarrior]