#gotham buddy exchange

[jaxon-exe]

Brawl Buddies

So this is just a fun one

When Danny becomes the ghost king at 18 other ghost kinda stop fighting him seriously. They like him as king and so while they will have a friendly spat with him every now and then no one really fights him anymore.

And Danny finds this strangely frustrating!!

It’s a ghost’s nature to fight!! Now he not only has to deal with everything that involves being king but he can’t get a good fight for the death of him!!

This frustration leads him to taking a ‘vacation’ in Gotham. Hoping to find at least one super-powerful person he can have a good show down with.

Turns out he didn’t have to look far as the first time he meet his new neighbour the guy immediately started throwing hands. This lead to a brawl that drifted threw both of their apartments, all the floors of their building, including the roof and out onto the street. Danny isn’t even mad when the guy calms down, stops fighting and starts apologising for randomly attacking him. He just shrugs of the apology and complements the guy on his strength and gushes on about how fun that was!! And how that was the best fight he’s had in years!! And if the guy even wants to throw down again they definitely should.

Jason meanwhile is confused as fuck by his new neighbour. He took one look at the guy and immediately flew into level 11 pit rage and somehow this guy fucking survived that?! Plus invited him to fight again????

At first he was just gonna ignore his weird neighbour and do his best to avoid him but a few days later he noticed that the pit was actually silent after the fight. Not just quite like it gets some times but fully silent for days. It wasn’t until it started to come back up did he noticed it was gone.

Deciding to get some answers he knocks on the weird guys door but as soon as he opens it Jason just can’t help but start swinging. After the fight he’s to exhausted to ask the guy questions and in the days following he just rides the high of a pit free life.

Over time he just stops questions it. It kinda just becomes routine. He stops avoiding Danny, he learnt his name after the 4th brawl, but never really talks to him. They just kinda exchange pleasantries when they pass each other in the hall most times. Then when the pit starts acting up again he goes over to Danny’s and the two of them duke it out.

Several months later Dick comes over for a surprise visit only to find his brother trying to kill some random guy??? Then when he did the rational thing and got in between them to stop the fight both of them turned and started yelling at him!!!!! Like he was the bad guy!!!! Then they just went back to fighting!!!!

Then when Jason’s eyes finally stopped glowing the two just started acting like best buds?????? Like Jason did not just throw this guy out a 2nd story window?????? Like the guy didn’t just beat Jason with a 2x4 he found in the alley?????????

What is going on????????

[nocturnest]

Omg I’m so glad you love Jonathan Crane too😭🙇‍♀️ I’m at home sick and I keep thinking about how if Jonathan was just minding his business, walking home when he sees this guy bothering a girl, like the guy is her ex and she’s telling him to leave her alone but he has hold of her wrist and won’t let go, and Jonathan just casually walks up, says a very Jonathan-like snarky (with a threatening undertone) and the guy is not the least bit threatened (not realizing who this man is) until Jonathan sprays his fear gas on him🫣 and Y/n just nervously squeals out, “Uh-I-uh thank you! What… What did you do to him??” And he just winks at her and starts to walk away🫣

@kpopgirlbtssvt I had a blast writing this - thank you for the wonderfully creative request! Feel free to send as many as you'd like for Jonathan - I LOVE HIM! Please enjoy!

~

Saving You

Jonathan Crane strolled through the streets of Gotham after a typical, mundane, and absolutely ordinary day of work at Arkham Asylum. His mind was on his patients, yes, but more importantly on the typical musings regarding the intricacies of fear and potential applications of his newest fear toxin. Lost in his thoughts, Jonathan nearly missed the commotion ahead.

There you were, accosted by a rugged man whose grip on you is far too tight and clearly not desired. You back into a wall in disgust, and, while you tried to maintain calm, a sense of fear trickled through your façade.

It was just your luck. Your mother had warned you about the dangers of living in a city like Gotham. Speaking of luck, how gracious it was for fate to bestow upon you the unwanted presence of your ex in the darkness of the streets on such a night.

Now, if Jonathan weren't so concerned for someone as pretty as you to be handled in such a way, he would take pleasure, and pride even, in being able to make you feel so afraid. But not like this. No, this wouldn't do one bit.

Jonathan was many things - some may even call him an evil man, but he was raised knowing how to properly treat a woman and this was not it.

The ogre of a man with his hands on you growls, "Just listen to me, you stupid bitch. I just want to talk."

"It seems like you want to do much more than talk," you retort, grimacing as you feel his breath on your face.

Jonathan couldn't stand idly by, not when a scene like this unfolded before him. The primal instinct to protect you stirred within him, mingling with the ever-present curiosity about human reactions to fear. He approached with measured steps, his presence unnoticed until he stood between you and your aggressor.

Your ex's attention shifted to Jonathan, his demeanor morphing from aggression to mockery.

"Back off, buddy," he sneered, tightening his grip on your wrist. "This ain't none of your business."

Jonathan offered a thin-lipped smile, his voice smooth but with an underlying edge. "On the contrary, buddy," he replied, his gaze cold as he assessed the situation. "It seems I've stumbled upon quite the predicament."

Jonathan's eyes met yours inquisitively. You mouth a please back at him. Your ex is too riled up to notice the exchange.

The man scoffed, dismissing Jonathan's words with a wave of his hand, "What's a measly twig like you going to do, huh? Get lost!"

What your ex failed to notice was the canister Jonathan held in his hand at the ready, its contents unknown to you.

And so, before you knew it, this stranger of a man sprayed your horrid ex with some kind of chemical. Recognition dawned in your ex's eyes, too late to escape the impending terror.

You reeled back against the wall and crumbled to the ground as your ex's screams made their way into your ears. A small part of you thought he probably deserved it.

Your ex made his departure, seemingly off his fucking rocker, his screams echoing in the distance far off down the street. You closed your eyes with anticipation, breathing deep breaths and doing what you could to calm yourself.

Jonathan knelt down in front of you, pale yet beautiful eyes glittering under the streetlights, "Are you alright, my dear?"

Your eyes fluttered open and you gazed back at him thankfully in response, "Um - yeah. Thank you, I suppose. W-What exactly did you do to him?"

Jonathan's expression softened, a hint of amusement playing on his lips as he met your gaze.

"Merely a temporary remedy to his insolence," he responded cryptically, his tone laced with a subtle edge. "Consider it a gift from a concerned observer."

You nodded, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions coursing through you. This beautiful stranger had saved you, and you hardly knew him.

"Well, I appreciate your... concern," you managed to say, offering him a weak smile.

Jonathan rose to his feet gracefully, his demeanor once again composed and enigmatic. "Think nothing of it," he replied, his voice carrying a hint of mystery. "But do be cautious in the future. Gotham can be a treacherous place, especially for those as... captivating as yourself."

With that, Jonathan nodded curtly and began to walk away, his silhouette fading into the shadows of the night. You watched him go, a mixture of gratitude and curiosity swirling within you.

As you picked yourself up from the ground, you couldn't help but wonder about the stranger who came to your rescue. Who was he, really? And what secrets lay hidden behind those piercing eyes? Part of you was ready to ask him for his name or for his comforting presence as you walked home.

But for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, grateful for the unexpected intervention that spared you from further harm. And as you continued on your way home, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps, just perhaps, Gotham's shadows held more than just darkness—they held the promise of enigmatic saviors with entrancing blue eyes.

~

@kiss-me-cill-me Thought you might enjoy reading this!

[exhuastedpigeon]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Not gonna lie, I've been really struggling to write since I wrote my last fic. It kind of feels like all of my writing beans left me when I posted it, but this lil game makes me really want to write.

How many works do you have on ao3? 155 (holy shit????)

What's your total ao3 word count? 682,114

What fandoms do you write for? Currently? Mostly 9-1-1, but occasionally Teen Wolf stuff

Top five fics by kudos: 1. Queer Robins Club 5246 kudos DC | Mature | 4.9k words

2. Dustin's Dad(s) 3783 kudos Steddie | Teen | 5.2k words

3. give me a sign, I want you next to me 2528 kudos Buddie | Teen | 7k words

4. let me see them tan lines 2399 kudos Buddie | Teen | 2.8k words

5. On the Ropes 2349 kudos Sterek | Teen | 5.4k words

Do you respond to comments? Yes! I try to respond to every comment!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? With a Whimper probably. It's also the only first person POV fic I've ever written lol.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Basically all of my fics have happy/hopeful endings? Maybe there ain't no turning back?

Do you get hate on fics? I have before but not recently!

Do you write smut? I do :)

Craziest crossover: Back Alley Deals is a crossover between Batman and Teen Wolf where Stiles goes to Gotham and ends up hooking up with Jason Todd.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yeah a couple times in the Sterek fandom! I don't found out because some friends found them.

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! A few of them have been. I'm always open to translations.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes! There was a Jaytim WIP exchange last year that I took part in.

All time favourite ship? I can't pick one? Either Sterek or Buddie probably.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Right now it feels like all of them, but probably my fic affectionately titled The Repression Symphony where I go through the movements of a symphony and dive into Eddie's religious trauma.

What are your writing strengths? I think dialogue and descriptions probably.

What are your writing weaknesses? Endings are hard!

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? I don't really do it because I only speak English I don't want to use google translate to write it.

First fandom you wrote in? Harry Potter

Favourite fic you've written? I can't pick one!!!

give your heart and soul to charity Teen | 12.5k | Buddie Eddie finally address his Catholic trauma and guilt.

lay your cards down, down, down Mature | 6.3k | Buddie Buck and Eddie wake up married in Vegas

there ain't no turning back Explicit | 28.3k | Buddie Buddie healing road trip, my beloved

every road and every highway led me right back to your door Teen | 2.5k | Sterek A woman gives Derek a baby and then turns to mist, he calls Stiles.

it hurts to hope for more Mature | 15.6k | Buddie Buck experiences a major non-romantic heartbreak and is forced to look at his life in a new way.

Tagged by @honestlydarkprincess @devirnis @dangerpronebuddie @diazsdimples @wikiangela

@jesuiscenseedormir @cal-daisies-and-briars @bi-buckrights @neverevan

No pressure tagging @rosieposiepuddingnpie @inell @sunshinediaz @spagheddiediaz @jeeyuns

@elvensorceress @watchyourbuck @shitouttabuck @thekristen999 @thewolvesof1998

@acountrygirlsfun @actualalligator @tizniz @rainbow-nerdss @eddiebabygirldiaz

@generatorcat @glaciya @withmyteeth @loserdiaz @monsterrae1

@spotsandsocks @underwaterninja13 @steadfastsaturnsrings @jesuisici33 @wildlife4life

and anyone else who wants to share!

[theerrorofmylife]

Crime Fighter

Another Battinson fic, this one’s probably one of my favorites, my beta reader loved it so. Little bit of a spin off, lots of tension, possibly a spicy part 2 if I’m feeling it lol. Please enjoy!!

- Error

       Gotham, the city of crime. City of treachery. City of ‘do whatever you want because literally nothing can stop you.’ Or at least that’s what it was 8 months ago. Nowadays, it’s the city of fear, fear of the unknown, fear for your life if you ever did anything wrong. I can’t remember a time when the streets were crowded at night like they are these days, people were no longer afraid to walk the streets even on a night like New Years. Among the crowds, surrounded by alcohol and parties, I was there. Something of an observer, a silent watcher, where Bats was all threat and right-swings, I took a more… laid back approach. I was helping the GCPD anonymously, being something of a PI on the level of urban legend until he showed up. All big black armor suits and blood-covered knuckles. I let him fight, not because I didn’t want to fight, but because I know he needed to. My goal wasn’t to clean up the city, it was to save the people who live here; there’s a difference. But tonight, of all nights, I got to have a little fun, I got to relax, or at least I thought I did.

“You two… follow me.” Gordon led us into a small apartment complex. Walking in, my near soundless footsteps were completely blocked out by the man stomping behind me. My hood was pulled up all the way to shade my eyes and the half-mask was pulled up over my nose and mouth. Dark kohl was painted over my eyes to create some distortion on my features. Behind me, the Batman towered. For the past 2 years I can’t remember a time when he wasn’t skulking around the same crime scenes as me, lurking in the dark while I investigated. And I can’t remember a time when I minded, I can’t recall whether I was ever bothered by his arrival or if I had always been fine with him existing in a world that used to be only for me. Looking around the apartment, it looked clean, like professionally cleaned. Crouching low to the ground, I could hear Bats walking around me as I breathed deep.

“Bleach. Professional clean-up?” I looked up at the man. He was so tall and so scary and so… hot. It was hot, sorry not sorry, but the big scary man was attractive to say the least. He was at least 6 feet, towering over me as I knelt on the floor, and it seemed like the shadows made it all the better. Days into meeting him I knew I was in trouble, his presence was stunning and terrifying and incredibly attractive, but he didn’t know me beyond the hood, and I didn’t know him beyond the mask. We were nothing more than work buddies who didn’t go out for drinks or exchange birthday cards. Which was totally fine, because I needed to protect people. And he needed to clean up Gotham from the roots. If our goals were ever achieved, I wouldn’t see him again. And that was… fine. Totally not upset over not being able to see him without the armor.

“Most likely. But who hired them?” His voice, it was deep, scratchy, and no one else would know but I could tell it was a bit forced. I liked it.

“Not Riddler, or Joker, they don’t care enough to clean up their mess. Someone who didn’t want people to know, someone with a reputation…” We both knew who it was, it was like he could read my mind at this point, but I was no closer to cracking his. I almost hated it, not being able to see into his mind like he could mine. But then again, I liked that the way he looked at me when he did. This little glint in his eyes, a hint of a smile, as if I was his favorite book laying open on the table.

“Someone like Penguin.” I nodded and before I stood fully, he was gone. The Shadow in the Night just left me here… prick. Getting up, I nodded to Gordon who walked over to me.

“So?”

“Bats and I are going clubbing… The Iceberg Lounge is especially nice, but I hear the 44 Below is better.” With that I left, moving deftly through the crowds of cops and forensic people. I would have to catch up.

~

I managed to get there before Bats had beaten everyone to death. It wasn’t a pretty scene but one I was used to. Unconscious bodies littered the entryway, bullet shells on the carpet, and a continuing fight could be heard in the distance.

“BATS.” I ran in. I couldn’t care less about the people in my way, they were criminals and Bats had already taken care of them, but we needed Penguin unscathed for questioning. I can’t let this slip through. When I got there, he was standing by a closed set of double doors, big and painted gold. His strong arms were crossed, and he was facing in my direction, leaning against the door. It was so, so attractive, and so, so distracting.

“You came.”

“You waited for me?”

“Of course.”

“Of course.” Of course. Of course, of course, of course. Of course he waited, of course I would make every effort just to be by his side, of course I broke 12 traffic laws and at least 2 federal laws just to make a 45 minute drive 15 minutes. He kicked open the door and we walked inside to see Penguin and two more men, all holding guns. It was quick, shots firing and ricocheting off the walls and one nearly clipped my ear if not for the fact that I dropped to the floor. Hands on the floor, my left leg stretched out to the side with my right bent under to support myself, I looked up to see Bats not even flinching. The bullets bounced off his armor and I watched as he quickly marched up and took the gun from one of the men. He broke it over his knee, snapped in half, and I nearly lost focus as my eyes were drawn to his thighs. Thick, beautiful, wonderfully ridable thighs. Fuck, focus. Ducking under his arms, I popped up in front of the second man and swung right for his nose while bats reached around and pulled the gun out of his hands. The men fell to the sides and Penguin was left alone, shaking in the corner with a tiny pistol clattering in his grip. I almost feel bad…. No, no I don’t haha. I unclipped the handcuffs from Bats, and I felt Bat’s whole body freeze, the cuffs hanging low on his belt. Bats damn near tore penguin out of the room after I cuffed him. Stopping at the door, he looked back at me, shoulders tense.

“Staying?” I looked up at his eyes, the blue glinting like neon. I could stare at those for hours; I don’t even care how stupid that sounds.

“Yeah, I’ll just uh…” I unclipped my camera from my belt and waved it by my head, mutely offering it as an explanation. He nodded and left with Penguin, and I was alone with two unconscious thugs and a shit ton of evidence that Bat’s and I would need later. Clicking open the camera, I fixed the flash setting before starting at the left side of the room and moving my way across. Files on dozens of people, roughly half a dozen on other mob bosses, boxes stacked on boxes of guns and ammunition. I took particular interest on the guns, making sure to add type and count on the back of each photo as well as a rough count of the ammunition. It took me about an hour to get everything really important before I heard the GCPD forensics team show up. I didn’t really want to get into it with them again (yes, I got caught at a crime scene once by them and I nearly got hit with a solid pelican 1120) so I headed out, grabbing the box of files before I left. I strapped the box to the back of my bike, praying the rain wouldn’t ruin any of the papers before I could get home. It always rained in Gotham, it was like a plague that lingered, as if the sky thought it could cleanse the city every day, never realizing it was futile. My bike slipped in and out of traffic, dodging cars and trucks, until I couldn’t go any farther without being knee deep in water. I left my bike, climbing up the side of a building and making my way across the rooftops, box tucked under my arm. It would be hours before I saw Bat’s again.

~

I sat back in my chair; my suit thrown to the side on the floor. A chill had set up my arms, my sleeveless shirt doing its job in cooling me down after I left the lounge. My computer glowed in the dark of my room as it loaded the pictures from my memory card. I had lived here for years now, in a tiny one room on the lower east side. Ever since Riddler flooded the streets, most of the lower areas were lost as well as all the areas by the docks. I was lucky, it was high enough that the water didn’t touch the flat and the window wasn’t too jammed, so it was prime vigilante real estate. I heard the window open, and I didn’t bother to turn around. Bats had seen me out of costume before, purely by accident but since then I hadn’t bothered to wear it off the job. If he saw me, he didn’t make a scene of it. At least, not in front of me.

“What did you find?”

“It’s like he was preparing for a war, B. He’s got dozens upon dozens of files, on people and bosses all over the city. Guns, ammo, worse, it’s all here.” I pulled up what pictures I did have rendered. I really didn’t want to believe what I was seeing. All of this looked like-

“A gang war.”

“Fuck.”

“Hey-”

“I know I know. But B, a gang war. We can’t have that right now, not with half the city flooded, not with the coast guard trying to fix things. We’ve already had enough issues with Riddler, and before that…” Our first case, the Joker… if this were a gang war, it could shred whatever remains of this city. “B… what do we do?” He stood still for a few seconds, eyes darting over my photo folder. Then darting over me, and I never felt more exposed.

“Which file folder is the largest?” I stared at the folder, thinking. Technically, they were all pretty thick but only one was truly overflowing. I pushed my rolling chair across the room and launched my way over to the file box. I pulled out the two-inch-thick file. He held the pages in the light of my computer, the white and blue light glowing over his armor and spilling onto the folder.

“Fish Mooney.” He held it for a second before flipping through it, stopping at certain pages with annotations and sticky notes. Pictures were taped and clipped onto certain pages, bright marker circling her face and specific places she was seen walking into. It was extreme and entirely unlike Penguin. He wasn’t the kind of person to annotate things or have things annotated.

“There’s notes in here.”

“Penguin definitely didn’t make these files. He had help, and I have a guess as to who.” In the far corners of the pages, little question marks were doodled and scribbled.

“How did Penguin get his help with these? He’s in Arkham, Penguin of all people wouldn’t be able to see him.”

“Wanna pay your old admirer a visit?”

“Not funny.” But I heard the smile in his voice.

“Only way to know for certain what Penguin wants with Fish is to ask the source of all his knowledge. If Riddler is involved in a gang war, I doubt he will pass up the chance to brag. Especially to us.” I slowly climbed out of my chair and walked over to grab my suit from the floor. I felt his eyes following me as I walked across the room.

The air was cold as we rode to Arkham, rain and wind beating against our helmets, bikes side by side on the dark streets. Times like this I forgot Bats was the Batman, in my head he was just a person, a person I shared bike rides with, offered coffee to, did my job with. He wasn’t a vigilante; he was my partner. Which was fine. Pulling up to the old asylum, the flood lights above nearly blinding me. The Batman and I stepped into the visitor’s center.

“S-sir!” The little guy at the front desk sputtered out, waving his superior over. A burly man with a hefty ring of keys on his belt came over.

“Batman and Co. Come on in,” He waved us past the desk and into the hallway where gates upon gates were opened and closed behind us. “Who are you two here for?”

“Riddler.” Was all the mountain of a man in front of me mumbled.

“Riddler? I thought you guys were done with him after he blew up half the city.”

“I wish,” I muttered and ducked ahead of Bats. “We’d really appreciate seeing him privately if that’s alright.”

“Sure, we’ll have someone outside the door in case you need help.” He reassured us. I found it unnecessary, but Bats nodded.

“Thank you, Mr. …?”

“Conroy. Albert Conroy.” He radioed for Riddler to be moved to a remote conference room. Walking down the halls, I felt eyes on me. Eyes I recognized.

“B… He knows we’re here.” I saw him nod out of the corner of my eyes before we were escorted into the dark-lit conference room. Riddler sat on the other side of the table, hands cuffed, glasses cracked, and honestly, he looked pretty pathetic. “We’ll be ok from here, Mr. Conroy. Thank you.” The man left, and Bats immediately walked up to the table, throwing Fish Mooney’s file onto the table.

“What did you do, Ed? How’d you get involved with Penguin?” watching Bats, I leaned back against the wall.

“Oh, I didn’t do much. Hello, Darling, lovely to see you again.” I waved but couldn’t find it in me to respond more than that. Bats stepped in front of me, covering his view.

“Edward, focus, why did you help Penguin? We know you did,” He opened up the file to point to the many little question mark scribbles at the corners. “We just want to know what he’s planning.”

“I bring peace but only at the cost of another’s life. What am I?” He bounced a little, enthusiastically.

“War. Ed, what does he want with Fish?”

“Swimming, jumping, diving, flying, the little fish can go anywhere; until the hungry penguin eats it up.”

“So, it is a turf war? Shit!” I sighed, rubbing my forehead.

“Such vulgar language, something so sweet shouldn’t talk like that.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fair. If Penguin has been caught, then all has been lost; but there are many members in a penguin’s huddler, you must be quick before the cities in rubble.” He just kept sputtering out… lots of words. I was starting to get a headache.

“He has a partner?”

“Thread, field, bird, fear; Standing proud, cowering alone, invading your mind, I look for my home.” My. God. Make. It. Stop.

“Scarecrow… fuck. Well, thanks Eddie, this has been enlightening, really. B, can we go?” He grunted and nodded, heading for the door. Just as he got the door open Edward started damn near screaming at us.

“I grew up from a seed, as tough as a weed. But in a mansion, in a slum, I'll never know where I come from. Don’t think I’ve forgotten about him. About Bruce Wayne. I’ll finish what we started, what we three started!” B pulled me out of the room harshly as guards pushed past us to remove Ed. I could remember the Riddler incident vividly, even though it had been two months ago. Halloween and the days that followed… What was with this city and ruining holidays?

“Don’t think about that last riddle too much. Now that we know Scarecrow is involved, we know the baseline of the turf war. It’s more likely that he’s operating out of his old lab. We can send GCPD over and clear him out.”

“You don’t want to go over and deal with it? I thought you would be all-for kicking Scarecrow’s ass.”

“Not tonight.” What else could he have going on? Maybe his real life, his own little piece of normal that I so desperately wanted to be a part of.

“Weird.” I didn’t have the energy to think too far into his motives, so I walked off. My head was still pounding. I was always prone to migraines, with little forewarning when they hit, and of course I had pills to combat them but there was no way I would have some on me in this suit. I just needed to get back to the apartment. Sluggishly, I tried to climb on my bike only to sway once I sat down.

“Hey,” he caught up with me and grabbed my arm to steady me, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My head…” It hurt to keep my eyes open, the flood lights blinding me. I heard his movement, the rip of the zipper as he reached into a pocket somewhere on his pants. There was more movement, jostling behind me in what I could only guess was my bag on the back of my bike, and quickly two pills and a water bottle were being placed in my hands.

“Hey,” his voice was barely above a whisper, “Take these.” Suddenly it became infinitely darker, and I was finally able to look up. He had his back to the flood lights, his chest against my shoulder to steady me, blocking the light. Still sitting on the bike, I tossed back the pills quickly, desperate for the pain to stop. “C’mon, you’re riding with me. I already messaged Gordon to come get your bike. You’re not going home by yourself like this.”

“But I can-”

“It’s not worth the risk.” I couldn’t argue with him, not when the hurt had yet to go away, and my energy was waning. He was right anyways, on a bike at night when I could barely open my eyes? Even a vigilante wouldn’t stand a chance. With hands far gentler than one would anticipate from a 6”1 mass of terror, he pulled me from the bike and led me to his, sitting down first and then allowing me to slide on behind him. He passed me my helmet and while I was pushing my hood and mask down, he also pulled his helmet on over the cowl.

“Put your hands here.” He took my hand and placed it on abdomen above his waist and I wrapped my arms around him, leaning against his back in a slow, clearly exhausted motion, and tried my best to remain conscious until he began to drive off. The jostle of the road irritated my head, but if I closed my eyes and just leaned into him, it wasn’t that bad. Peaceful in fact. I wonder if this is what it’s like, to be normal. When your head isn’t filled with crime scene data, or potential uprisings, or concern for citywide safety. Is this what normal people do when they’re with someone they love? I was fine with not being normal, usually. It wasn’t a big deal if I never had a normal relationship, or got a pet, or had a steady job that didn’t involve taking pictures of gun, drugs, and dead bodies. But now, with my chest against his back, helmet side pressed against his shoulder blades, I couldn’t shake the horrible, sad truth that I desperately wanted a little piece of normal. And I wanted that to be him. I felt like an idiot but an honest one at least. I wanted to be normal with Batman, or whoever he really was. I wanted the closeness without the armor. I wanted to see him without armor- it’s not a necessity, just that I’d drop to my knees in seconds with zero dignity for this man. I closed my eyes, trying to muddle the idea with lesser, more trivial thoughts.

I wasn’t paying attention, and soon we were in the northern part of the city, the tall corporate buildings lighting the streets and the cars around us with neon. When I finally opened my eyes, he was tapping my leg, telling me to hold on tightly. He fucking drove us down a set of stairs, this madman. When he pulled to a stop, we were in an underground train station, filled with computers, tables covered in metal scraps, and in the back, what looked to be a car covered by a tarp.

“Where are we?” He helped me off the bike, the lights no longer bothering me so much I couldn’t open my eyes.

“This is my… place… don’t have a name for it yet.”

“Oh my god,” he looked over and I smiled so wide and stupidly. “You have a bat cave.” I put heavy emphasis on the word ‘bat’ and almost laughed if not for the tiny smile I saw from beneath the mask. It stunned me. At times like these, what I wouldn’t give to see what his full smile looked like, without the shadow of the batman cowl over it. Perhaps I was simple minded for thinking it so stunning, or perhaps he simply was so stunning. Either way, what bliss.

“C’mon, there’s a guest room upstairs you can use, you need rest.” Suddenly, like fog had dissipated, I started to have a clear line of thinking.

“Wait, B!” He paused by the elevator doors, turning to look at me with a sharp look of expectancy, “My meds, they’re prescription, special order. How did you have them?”

“I have my ways. When we first started working together, I may have… looked into you. Nothing too personal, but I needed to know if I could trust you, what to do if something happened to you. Found your medical records, got the prescription just in case.” He seemed almost guilty, but at the same time not. As if doing so had been a troubling necessity, and that in the end it was all for the best. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do the exact same, or at least I tried to. Mostly police reports involving him, news pieces, eyewitness statements. I wanted to know if his rage was reliable or… unstable.

“I tried to do the same… turns out that’s hard to do if you’ve never seen the other person.” I let out a nervous laugh, eager for the guilt-ridden tension to disperse. He huffed and when I looked up, there was a tiny grin again. Relief set in and I entered the elevator with him. It was a nice-looking elevator, stainless steel with dark mahogany wood trim. Expensive. Whoever B was, he or his close friends were rich. 27 floors later, we stepped out at a huge apartment, covered in ancient gothic architecture and floor to ceiling windows that looked over Gotham. Ok, so, B was rich rich.

“This way.” He began leading me down the right hallway, but something caught my eye. Mail, sitting on a stool by the elevator, addressed to none-other than Bruce Wayne.

“Holy shit.” I breathed in near disbelief. B was friends with Bruce.

“What- are you snooping here of all places?!” I could tell he wasn’t nearly as offended as he sounded.

“Sorry, not on purpose I swear. I just saw it and… Bruce Wayne? Are you his friend or business partner?”

“Neither. You know him?” He sounded… tense now, as if this was a gateway conversation to a much larger topic. I wouldn’t ask if he didn’t want me to, but maybe this was close to finding out who he really was.

“No… I mean, not really, I almost did a case on him 2 years ago, some embezzlement thing or whatever.”

“And?”

“And nothing. Turns out, not only is he clean, but he’s also a big softy. The money wasn’t being stolen, it was being donated, it just wasn’t being documented properly. Thousands of dollars, supplies, and aid, and a few typos almost launched a full-blown police investigation. He’s a good guy, an honest one.” Walking past him, I looked into the room to see the same gothic architecture, a large four post queen sized bed against the left wall and a beautiful Victorian vanity on the right. Dead ahead, floor to ceiling windows covered the back wall with large, heavy looking drapes hung at each end. “This is beautiful B.”

“Mm. Then it’s yours from now on. Whenever you need to be somewhere else, if something goes wrong, if you just don’t want to be alone… you can come here.” My head snapped towards him, and I nearly leapt in the air at how close he was. If I had stepped back my back would have been against his chest.

“B, are you sure? What about Bruce? Would he mind?” That grin came back, stronger than ever, and thank god it was dark because I felt my face go hot. His hand fit on my cheek, just above my jaw, and he pressed a kiss to my forehead.

“I think he would love you.”

[elfwreck]

“BNHA: Bakugou Visits Gotham” ? I don’t know if he’ll be arrested or adopted or both!

This is the start of a collab fic. It's in chat-ish fragments.

SUMMARY: Tim Drake is Batman. Bakugo is visiting Gotham. He's going to impress the American heroes with his amazing quirk.

At least, that's his plan.  Nobody warned him that super-powered plans often don't work as expected in Gotham.

---

Aizawa set the whole thing up. Contacted Tim and said, I have a student with a lot of potential, but he thinks quirk strength defines a hero or villain. What would you say to a work study?

Jason accepted for him.

"Hey Replacement, one of your buddies from across the pond is sending some brat over here to learn real hero-ing. I offered to send Damian in exchange, but he wouldn't trade."

Nobody has told Bakugou that Batman is quirkless.

**

“So what’s your quirk? Super intelligence? Bat powers?”

"I'm rich."

“No, seriously, what’s your quirk?”

"I'm told I have a quirky smile. Well, actually, no, I haven't been told that. Nobody likes my smile. Now shut up and look over the files I have on all the other heroes and villains in the area.”

“Oh my god I’m working under Deku”

**

Meeting Damian:

"I usually just kill assholes like you, but out of politeness to Alfred, I'll leave you alive. No promises about keeping all your body parts."

Tim: "There will be NO DEATH MATCHES in the Batcave. No almost-death matches, either. Damian, do not maim my guest. Bakugo... eh, whatever, have fun, and good luck."

Bakugo getting so pissed that obviously everyone thinks he'd lose.

**

Bakugo facing off against Nightwing for a sparring match in the cave. "I get to take the Batmobile out for a spin when I win." 

Tim, working at the computer: *snort* "If you can land a hit on him, I will give you a Batmobile."

(Bakugo does not come home with a Batmobile.)

“How are you doing that? There’s no way the human body can bend like that! ...He has a flexibility quirk, doesn't he? That can't be quirkless. Human bones can't do that."

“No, we’ve all been tested by the best doctors in the world. Besides Bruce had a code, no quirks in Gotham”

"Then why the fuck am I here?" 

"Because maybe it's time to update the code. But maybe not; your quirk isn't helping you much."

"What are you talking about, my quirk is THE BEST! Just STAND STILL you fucking jumping bean!"

**

Kirishima: “so Bakubro, how was America. Man I can’t believe you got so lucky”

"It's like a whole damn country of shitty Dekus. Working with Deku. Fighting against Deku. Deku going shopping. Evil Deku trying to steal things. NOBODY HAS QUIRKS AND THEY ALL SUCK."

[thenerdiestmanalive]

Nygmobblepot before 3x07 

@gothambuddyexchange gift for the wonderful @irisbleufic!

Thanks for being such an amazing person and writer :) Happy hallowen :D

[britisharks]

for @fictionalgrieving <3

[shirl85]

Here I am with my fanart for the @gothambuddyexchange yay! :-D My buddy was @alias-afta that asked for a scene with Ivy and Oswald, chillin in an aviary-greenhouse mix with tea and hummingbirds around them! It was soo funny to wrote you during this months and organize this fanart for you, I hope you like it!

[gobblepotstew]

Jimjam and Ozzy

For @gothamsgayestbird For the Gotham Buddy Exchange

Prompt: Fall Leaves for Gobblepot Halloween 2017 (felt appropriate). I hope you like it! @gothambuddyexchange

[wittygaypuns]

For @tennantxbarrowman for the @gothambuddyexchange! I'm sorry it's a little late, but I hope you enjoy. I'm gonna leave this here for ya; a little fluffy Zsaszlepot.

Title; Warmth

Word Count; 1996

Warnings; None really

Summary: Oswald is having a bad day. Zsasz is surprisingly pushy with his shows of affection.

With a gentle moan, Oswald slumped into the soft couch, arm over his face. He was so frustrated that it was actually overwhelming; he couldn't figure out of he wanted to cry or scream. That entire week had been one thing after another piling on his already burdened shoulders. Edward escaping his icy prison. Ivy disappearing without a word. Sofia Falcone suddenly appearing and taking some strange interest in him. The spiral of depression and self-loathing had not been set off by any of that, though. Perhaps it was a combination that lent to his swirling emotions, but the catalyst for his sorrow had been something which he couldn't fix, couldn't control, couldn't scheme his way out of.

His leg.

The pain had been intense and distracting that entire day, but the final straw had happened when his ankle had given out on him after his closing words on stage that night. He had stumbled, making him look drunk and weak. It was beyond humiliating, and once the patrons had been dismissed for the night, Oswald had retreated to the apartment above his club to let out his frustrations on the expensive décor of the dining room. Anything not bolted down or exceptionally heavy was torn from its spot and dashed to the ground. His fury had given way to an overbearing numbness, an internal resignation that he could never be fixed in more ways than one.

It was difficult to feel like a king when one's own body was in constant rebellion.

Dual tears slipped from the corner of his eyes only to soak into the sleeve of his jacket. A soft sob broke free from his throat. His own emotions frustrated him further; why was he allowing himself to get so worked up? He had gone through worse trials than this, and the pain in his leg had been there since he first got the injury years ago. It was a biting reminder of Fish Mooney, the mother figure whom he had rekindled a friendship with and who was subsequently killed shortly after. It was his curse.

“Penny for your thoughts, boss?” A soft voice, one that always seemed to hold a hint of amusement regardless of the setting.

“Leave me alone.” Oswald spat, arm still draped over his eyes.

“Okay.” Victor Zsasz said, but Oswald heard no steps leading away. Instead, the click of his heeled dress shoes moved closer, stopping next to the couch.

“I said leave me alone, Victor.” Oswald pulled his arm away, looking up at the bald man who towered over him, looking down without the slightest hint of judgment in his eyes.

“Leave you alone as in go away, or leave you alone as in you're too busy moping to talk?” Victor asked.

“Leave me alone as in leave me ALONE.” Oswald spat bitterly, arm moving from his face to flick a throw pillow at the man standing over him. The pillow smacked him in the chest and fell harmlessly to the floor.

“Need a hug?” Victor offered, shifting to sit down on the coffee table in front of Oswald, who balked at the question.

“A hug? Of course I don't need a hug.” Oswald was always thrown off by Victor's mannerisms. The man was bizarre, and it was strangely endearing.

“I think you do. I'm gonna hug ya, alright? C'mere.” Victor said softly.

With strong, capable hands, Victor gathered the smaller man into his arms. Before Oswald could so much as blink he had switched their positions, shifting to sit himself on the couch. Oswald ended up practically in his lap with one of Victor's arms around the middle of his back and the other holding his thighs. After a split second, he was in Victor's lap, head held to the taller man's chest. Oswald's protests seized in his throat at Victor's touch. He had removed his gloves at some point, too quick for him to have even registered the motion.

“See? Not so bad, right boss?” Victor said, voice taking on a gentle tone. One hand stroked his back in slow, tender circles as he spoke. Oswald's eyes slid shut, as soothed by the hand on his back as he was by the one that cupped his cheek in hand.

“You don't have to call be boss. Please call me Oswald. Why... why are you?” Oswald looked up, trying not to fixate on how unbelievably soft Victor's skin was.

“I'll call you Oswald when we're alone, if you want. Why am I what? Holding you?” Victor glanced down, a little smile quirking the corner of his lips.

“Yes, please. And yes to the latter as well. This is... confusing. Maybe a little embarrassing.” Oswald mumbled, though he had no intention of removing himself from the safe comfort of Victor's embrace.

“I'm holding you 'cause you seemed like you needed to be held. Everyone needs to be held sometimes. Even the King of Gotham.” Victor remarked.

“I'm not a child!” Oswald snapped, pulling away and sitting up on his lap. His natural instinct to assume an insult was meant, and anger flared up in him instantly.

“I know you aren't. But you're super stressed out, and I know you're in pain, so I thought maybe a bit of human contact might help...” Victor was almost pouting at Oswald's shift in mood, head tilted to the side. He looked a bit like a puppy, and Oswald could feel his resolve crumbling.

“What does it matter if I'm stressed out? I'm always stressed out. The pain is... negligible.” He lied; even in a private setting, in the arms of someone he had known for years, Oswald had a hard time admitting anything he saw as a weakness. Victor watched his face, hand moving towards his the focal point of his pain. Oswald recoiled from the touch, shifting uncomfortably to avoid it.

“Oswald, stop. Shh – it's okay. I'm not gonna pinch you or anything. Can I see?” Victor asked. Oswald's brain buzzed with confusion and paranoia. Why would he want to see his leg? Everyone knew it was ruined. The entire world had given him a moniker because of his walk, everyone knew he was crippled! Why would Victor need to see? Was he trying to humiliate him further?

“No!” Oswald snapped, making a move to get off his lap.

“Okay, okay. Relax, okay? I'm not gonna hurt you. I don't have any honor to swear on so I'll swear on my guns. It's just you and me, okay? If I hurt you by mistake you can punch me in the face. And that means a lot coming from me. I'm too pretty for black eyes.” Victor told him with a teasing smile.

One of his arms slid back around Oswald's lower back, resting lightly on his hip as the other hand moved carefully. Victor's gaze, usually intense, had softened as he broke eye contact and looked to his leg. Oswald wondered if he had fallen into some strange fever dream world where Victor had suddenly become something more than the unflappable assassin that Oswald could call on at a moment's notice. Maybe he was dreaming up some alternate reality where Victor was suddenly made up of some odd amalgamation of things that Oswald was attracted to. The efficiency and conviction of James Gordon, the eager nature and surprising tenderness of Edward Nygma, and the strength and simplicity of Victor Fries.

Oswald's breath caught in his throat as it occurred to him that this was no strange dream.

That was exactly what Zsasz was.

He was everything that Oswald had ever sought out in a man.

Closing his eyes, he laid his head against Victor's chest as his hand slid up the cuffs of his pant leg. Carefully he rolled down Oswald's sock, wrapping his fingers around the bared flesh of his ankle. Oswald winced instinctively, reflexively expecting him to squeeze. The tightness never came; Victor's touch was as gentle as could be, massaging his skin carefully. There was pain, but that came with the territory; the heat of his touch was actually soothing.

“Why are you doing this?” Oswald asked. He felt Victor's shoulder shrug.

“I don't like seeing you all stressed and upset.” Victor replied.

“I'm always stressed and upset.” Oswald remarked bitterly.

“No you aren't. Maybe you're always a bit stressed, but you usually handle it really well. I really like it when you're happy, running things the way you want.” Victor told him. As he spoke, he laid his cheek against Oswald's head.

“You do?” Oswald stammered, the intimacy of Victor's touch becoming all the more apparent at his words.

“Yeah. I always admired you, once you came up in the world. Hell, even after you got knocked down a bunch of times. You always bounce back, I respect the hell out of that. You're great at what you do, and...” Victor trailed off a little in a way that was wholly uncharacteristic of the usually forthright man.

“And...” Oswald urged, simultaneously hungry for praise and curious for the next thought.

“You have a really pretty smile.” Victor said.

Oswald felt as if his heart was ready to collapse under the weight of such a simple, sweet admission. He opened his mouth but found himself unable to speak.

“... Is it weird to call a guy's smile pretty? Saying you have a handsome smile doesn't sound right. I'm not great with words.” Victor muttered. Oswald could almost feel his brows furrow.

“No, it isn't weird. I- it's... incredibly flattering, actually. I don't think anyone's ever said that to me. You're doing just fine with your words.” Oswald stammered, daring to slide a hand up to rest on Victor's shoulder. He meant it; with Victor, there was no double meaning, no second guessing.

“Oh, good. Then it wouldn't be weird if I said you had beautiful eyes, right?” Victor said, chuckling softly.

“Oh, no, not at all. T-that's... that's very kind of you.” Oswald said, trying to keep his voice even as the blush rose to his cheeks.

“How ya feeling now? Any better?” Victor asked as he continued to massage Oswald's leg.

“Much... Thank you, Victor. I never knew you were such a charmer.” Oswald gave a soft sigh, hand sliding from his shoulder to rest against his chest.

“I'm not charming. I'm just honest with people I like. Sometimes it just takes a little longer for me to say things when the person I'm into seems to like every guy around but me.” Victor admitted. Oswald's eyes shot open, and he shifted to look up at him. Zsasz raised his head to accommodate the movement.

“Are you saying that you like me in... a more than friendly way, Victor?” Oswald sputtered in disbelief. Even after the affection Victor had shown, it still came as a shock to hear it outright.

“Yup. You don't have to say you're into me or anything if you aren't, I'd understand. I know you tend to go for straight cops or sexually repressed eggheads.” Victor smirked at him a little, causing Oswald's blush to deepen.

“Shut up. You aren't allowed to mock my taste in men. As for your... feelings, I... can you just hold me for now, and we can talk about it another time?” Oswald asked softly, resting his head back on his chest.

“Sure thing, Oswald. I'm not going anywhere.” Victor said.

“I know, Victor.” Oswald replied.

Oswald relaxed into his touch, allowing the warmth and security of Victor's embrace soothe him in a way he hadn't realized he needed.

[oriley42]

✨ Lee, Tabitha, & Barbara ✨ >>> art for Into the Woods

[for @deletingpoint, for the Gotham Buddy Exchange!]

[dandydevildog]

Gotham Buddy Exchange gift for @abovetheruins ! I hope some fluffy Jim/Oswald is to your liking. Wanted it to have a semi domestic feel as well, not sure how well that came across heh.

[sexy-psycho-killer]

Happy Belated Gotham Buddy Exchange @andersandrew! I know it’s not much, but I really hope you enjoy this mini comic! @gothambuddyexchange 

Prompt 3: Heartbroken Oswald and the freak family Ivy trying to comforting him and cheering him up

(Also, sorry Ed looks like Bevis & Butthead…😆)

[avaloncelsus]

Here is my gift for the @gothambuddyexchange

This one is for @mrs-spooky

I do hope you like my work!

[drawingcrows-old]

Happy Halloween everyone!

My buddy for the @gothambuddyexchange was @hididdleriddler, and I’m serving up some noir nygmobblepot, just for you! It’s inspired by a scene in the film Brief Encounter, and it was soooo much fun to work on this. Enjoy, love ^u^

Commissions

[thenerdiestmanalive]

Babitha before everything went to shit lol

more @gothambuddyexchange gifs for @irisbleufic :)