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zhelin-thames · 12 days ago

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Death’s Gentle Touch

@demonic0angel thank you for letting me write this.

Ps. This is not a dead silent ship but a dead on main ship. I am way too much of a dead tired, dead on main and dead serious fan🫣, so..... Srry😇

Danny hadn’t planned on staying in Gotham for long. The city was overwhelming, a swirling mess of emotions, crime, and shadows that never seemed to sleep. But something about it called to him—a faint pull in the back of his mind, like the restless murmur of ghosts who hadn’t yet crossed his path.

And then he started noticing them.

The kids.

Each one had a presence that whispered of death’s touch. Not full-on ghostly, but close. Too close. It tugged at Danny’s core, a strange mix of familiarity and concern. The first was a quiet boy, barely seven, with hollow eyes and a haunted expression. Danny found him huddled in the shadows of Crime Alley, shivering and alone.

It wasn’t even a conscious decision. He couldn’t leave the kid there.

And so, the warehouse became home.

The old building wasn’t much to look at from the outside, but Danny had poured what little ecto-energy he could spare into reinforcing it, patching up leaks, and making it livable. Inside, it was surprisingly cozy. Rugs covered the cold floor, mismatched furniture filled the space, and shelves lined with books and trinkets added a sense of warmth.

Within weeks, Danny’s little family had grown.

Five kids now called the warehouse home, each one with a story that left Danny seething with quiet rage. Abusive parents, neglectful guardians, and the harsh streets of Gotham had taken their toll on each of them. Danny couldn’t fix the past, but he could offer them something better: safety, warmth, and the promise that they’d never be alone again.

One of the kids, Sam, was from one of Gotham’s elite families. He’d run away after his parents’ cruelty pushed him too far. When Danny had found him, Sam had been too weak to argue.

It was Cassandra Cain who stumbled upon them.

She’d been tracking a lead on a missing child—the wealthy parents had finally reported Sam missing after weeks, though their concern had seemed more for appearances than genuine worry. Her trail led her to the refurbished warehouse.

Cass slipped inside silently, her every movement a shadow. What she saw stopped her in her tracks.

Danny was sitting cross-legged on the floor, a tattered storybook in his hands. The five kids were gathered around him, leaning against him or huddled close, their faces rapt with attention. Danny’s voice was soft, animated, bringing the story to life.

“...and the brave knight faced the dragon, not with a sword, but with kindness.” Danny smiled, looking down at the youngest child, a girl clutching his arm. “Because sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is try to understand someone else.”

Cass didn’t move for a moment.

The scene was so achingly peaceful, so pure, that it seemed impossible in a city like Gotham. She could feel the protective energy radiating from Danny, the way the kids seemed to trust him implicitly. It wasn’t just a man taking care of children. He was their anchor, their safe harbor.

Still, she stepped forward.

Danny looked up, his glowing green eyes meeting hers. For a second, Cass tensed, ready for a fight. But Danny’s expression softened, and he raised a hand in a calming gesture.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “You must be one of the Bats.”

Cass tilted her head, curious but cautious. “Who... are you?”

“I’m Danny,” he replied simply, closing the book. “And these are my kids.”

Her gaze flickered to the children. Sam had tensed at her presence, but Danny placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“They’re safe here,” Danny continued, his voice calm but firm. “I promise. I know you’re probably here for him.” He nodded toward Sam. “But he ran for a reason. And I’m not about to let anyone hurt him again.”

Cass reported back to Bruce and the others. The revelation sparked an intense debate in the Batcave.

“He’s just a kid himself!” Damian snapped, glaring at the screen showing Danny’s image. “What gives him the right to take in strays like this?”

“Pot, meet kettle,” Tim muttered, earning a scowl from Damian.

Bruce, arms crossed, studied the footage Cass had captured. Danny’s protective aura was undeniable, as was the bond he’d formed with the children. “We need to know more about him,” Bruce said. “His intentions, his background, his... abilities.”

Jason leaned against the wall, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’re just mad someone’s beating you at the whole ‘adopting strays’ thing, B.”

Alfred cleared his throat. “Master Jason, perhaps we should focus on how best to ensure the children’s well-being.”

When the Bats finally confronted Danny in the warehouse, they were met with calm defiance. Danny stood his ground, the kids huddled behind him.

“I get it,” he said, arms crossed. “You’re the big, bad vigilantes of Gotham. But these kids? They’re not just cases or numbers. They’re people. And they deserve better than what the system gave them.”

Bruce stepped forward. “We’re not here to take them from you. But this isn’t sustainable. You’re their age. How do you plan to provide for them long-term?”

Danny hesitated, then sighed. “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

Jason, watching the exchange, stepped closer. “What’s your deal, Danny? You’re not just some random guy.”

Danny met his gaze, his glowing eyes narrowing slightly. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

Jason smirked. “Try me.”

The Bats weren’t ones to leave mysteries unsolved, and Danny wasn’t about to spill his life story to a group of masked vigilantes without some trust first. It took weeks of cautious interactions and reluctant cooperation for things to come to light.

It was Jason who finally got Danny to open up.

One night, after dropping off a bag of supplies Bruce had insisted the kids needed, Jason stayed behind. He found Danny on the roof of the warehouse, leaning against the railing as he stared at the Gotham skyline. The night air was crisp, carrying the distant hum of the city.

“So,” Jason began, hopping onto the ledge beside him. “You’re not just some ordinary kid with a big heart. What’s your story?”

Danny let out a long sigh. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance.”

For a moment, Danny said nothing. Then he raised his hand, letting a soft green glow surround it. “You ever hear of Amity Park?”

Jason frowned. “The town with all those ghost rumors? Thought it was a bunch of tabloid nonsense.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not,” Danny said, his voice quieter now. “I grew up there. My parents were... ghost hunters. They built a portal to another dimension—the Infinite Realms. Something went wrong, and I ended up... connected to it. Half-ghost, half-human.”

Jason blinked, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. “Half-ghost? Like, you died?”

“Sort of.” Danny’s tone was light, but his eyes reflected the weight of the experience. “It’s complicated. I didn’t plan to stick around Gotham, but then I started noticing these kids—how close they were to death, how much they’d suffered. I couldn’t just leave them.”

Jason studied him for a moment, then nodded. “You’re a weird guy, Danny. But I get it.”

Danny smirked. “Thanks, I think.”

Each child Danny had taken in had their own struggles, their own pain that had led them to him.

Sam: The son of a wealthy Gotham family, Sam had been raised in luxury but at a terrible cost. His parents cared more about appearances than his well-being, and the pressure to be perfect had been crushing. When Danny found him, Sam had been wandering the streets, bruised and desperate for escape.

Mia: A street-smart girl with a sharp tongue, Mia had grown up in foster care, bouncing between homes that never cared for her. She’d survived on her own for months before Danny found her, stealing food to survive.

Leo: Barely six, Leo had been abandoned in Crime Alley. He didn’t speak much, but he clung to Danny like a lifeline.

Ella: A bright-eyed girl with an affinity for art, Ella had been living in a condemned building with her older brother, who’d died protecting her. Danny found her crying over his body, her face pale and haunted.

Max: A quiet, thoughtful boy who had a near-death experience after falling into Gotham River. His brush with death had left him sensitive to the supernatural, and he’d been drawn to Danny almost instinctively.

Danny had given them all a second chance, teaching them to trust again. The warehouse became their safe haven, a place where they could heal.

Despite their initial skepticism, the Bats couldn’t deny that Danny was doing good. Bruce offered resources to help with the kids, on the condition that Danny let them monitor the situation.

“I’m not looking to turn this into a charity case,” Danny had said. “I just want what’s best for them.”

“And that’s what we’re offering,” Bruce replied evenly. “Whether you like it or not, we’re invested now.”

Danny found himself working with the Bats more often, whether it was coordinating efforts to help other at-risk kids or teaming up with them during ghost-related incidents.

Cass became a frequent visitor, quietly helping with the children and bonding with Danny over their shared love of storytelling. Tim couldn’t resist asking questions about ghost tech and the Infinite Realms, while Damian begrudgingly admitted that Danny wasn’t as useless as he’d assumed.

Jason, however, became Danny’s closest ally. The two shared a mutual understanding, both having faced death and come back changed.

Years passed, and the warehouse evolved. The children grew, some eventually striking out on their own while others stayed close. Danny became a pillar of the community, the once-abandoned warehouse now a thriving community center.

Jason remained a constant presence in Danny’s life. Their friendship deepened, and somewhere along the way, it turned into something more.

The wedding was a quiet affair, held in the Infinite Realms. The guests were a mix of humans and ghosts, an unusual but fitting reflection of Danny and Jason’s lives.

Sam, Mia, Leo, Ella, and Max—now young adults—stood by Danny’s side, their smiles bright and proud. The Bats, dressed in uncharacteristically formal attire, watched with a mix of fondness and exasperation as Jason said his vows.

“I didn’t think I’d get a second chance at a family,” Jason said, his voice steady but soft. “But with you, Danny, I found something I didn’t even know I was looking for.”

Danny smiled, his eyes glowing faintly. “And I found a home—in Gotham, in these kids, and in you. You’re stuck with me now, Jason.”

As they exchanged rings, the Infinite Realms shimmered around them, a quiet acknowledgment of the bond they’d forged.

And as they stepped into their future together, hand in hand, they knew they’d face whatever came next—together, as a family.

Over the years, Danny and Jason’s “kids” grew into remarkable young adults, each finding their own path while staying connected to the family they had built together.

Sam: The Voice for Justice

Sam’s upbringing in Gotham’s elite circles gave him unique insight into the city’s upper class. As an adult, he used that knowledge to challenge the corruption ingrained in Gotham’s wealthy families.

By day, Sam became a successful lawyer, taking on cases for those who couldn’t afford proper representation. By night, he used his connections to help Danny and Jason uncover and dismantle illegal operations hidden behind Gotham’s polished facade.

Despite his serious demeanor, Sam never forgot the kindness Danny showed him. He often visited the community center to mentor at-risk kids, giving them the guidance he wished he’d had.

Mia: The Protector

Mia’s sharp tongue and street smarts made her a natural fighter. She trained with Cass and Damian, honing her skills until she became a formidable vigilante known as Specterblade.

Unlike most of Gotham’s protectors, Mia embraced her ghostly side. Danny taught her how to channel ectoplasmic energy, giving her an edge in combat. She patrolled the streets with a ferocity that even Damian respected, targeting human traffickers and abusers with relentless determination.

Though she worked in the shadows, Mia also took an active role at the community center, running self-defense classes for women and teens.

Leo: The Guardian of the Realms

Leo’s quiet nature hid a deep connection to the Infinite Realms. Over time, his near-death experience evolved into a unique ability to sense disturbances between dimensions.

Danny noticed this early on and trained Leo to become a Realmwalker, a protector of the delicate balance between the mortal world and the Infinite Realms. Leo embraced the role, splitting his time between Gotham and the ghostly dimension.

He became a key figure in handling supernatural threats that even the Justice League struggled with. Though he was often away, Leo remained fiercely loyal to his family, returning whenever they needed him.

Ella: The Healer

Ella’s love for art evolved into a passion for design and restoration. She studied architecture and urban planning, eventually becoming a key figure in revitalizing Gotham’s neglected neighborhoods.

Her ghostly sensitivity gave her a unique perspective on spaces and their emotional resonance, which she used to create safe, welcoming environments. The community center was her first major project, and she expanded its reach with satellite locations across the city.

Ella’s gentle spirit made her a comforting presence in the family, and she often acted as the mediator when tensions ran high.

Max: The Tech Genius

Max’s brush with death left him fascinated by technology and its potential to change lives. He became a brilliant engineer, blending ghost tech and human innovation to create devices that pushed the boundaries of possibility.

Working alongside Tim, Max developed tools to help Gotham’s vigilantes fight crime more efficiently. He also created gadgets to help people with disabilities, inspired by the struggles he witnessed during his time on the streets.

Despite their busy lives, the kids never forgot their roots. They visited the warehouse-turned-community center regularly, helping Danny and Jason with new initiatives and staying connected to the city that had once failed them.

Max was the quiet brain behind many of the family’s operations, preferring to let his work speak for itself.

Family dinners were a chaotic but cherished tradition, with everyone gathering around the table to share stories, tease each other, and reaffirm their bond.

In their own ways, each of Danny and Jason’s kids carried on their legacy of hope, proving that even in a city as dark as Gotham, second chances could bloom into something extraordinary.

I might make this a series and show each kids journey. Hope you guys liked it.

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alisonwritesimagines · 3 months ago

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When the Bat Smiles ~Batman Imagine~

Requested by anonymous:

“happy 6k! was wondering if I could please request bruce wayne with “You smiled! I saw it! You can't deny it!” for fem!reader? tysm! :)”

Summary: You get the pleasure in seeing Batman smile for once.

Author’s Note: I'm sorry this came out late. I went to Texas to visit my family before I had a chance to publish this. I also apologize for this being short. I wanted to branch out from Batmom!reader.

Reader’s Pronouns: They/Them

Warnings: mentions of unaliving

Do not repost this anywhere!

Batman is never really the kind of man who smiles. No matter how hard anyone has tried. Sure he would smile as Bruce Wayne. But as Batman? No one has ever seen a genuine smile from him.

“Hey Batman,” you greeted as you landed on a rooftop.

“Hi Hearts.”

You were known as the Queen/King of Hearts in Gotham. Though you didn’t feel like a hero, you were deemed an anti hero as you could rip the hearts out of people and command them at will until you put their heart back into their bodies.

You did not kill many people unless you had deemed necessary. And even if you didn't crush their hearts to kill them, you continued to follow your given anti hero name by cutting your enemies necks or as the storybook queen had said, "off with their heads."

“Saw some of your children running around. Red Hood even asked me for help,” you tell him.

“They like to talk about you,” Batman points out.

You got to know Batman ever since you had received your powers and became an anti-hero. After proving to him that you weren't a villain, he had deemed you acceptable to keep around.

“Glad to know about that. I’d hate for the Batman to come after me because his kids didn’t like me,” you joked.

“You need to give me a better reason to come after you,” Batman tells you.

“Like say I get Joker before you?” You asked.

“Perhaps.”

"You can say the word and I'll do it. Never liked him anyway. He keeps creating more chaos and hiring more people who shouldn't be working for him," you say as you leaned against the wall to look down at the city.

"He'll be mine to deal with," Batman tells you.

"Alright. Alright. He's all yours."

"Plan on staying out late tonight?" Batman asked you.

"No. I was hoping to just relax after I get some work done and binge watch Bluey."

"Bluey?"

"It's an Australian kids show. Say what you want, it's a good wholesome show," you tell him. Batman smiled softly but you noticed it quickly.

"Did you just smile?" You asked him in shock.

"No," Batman said, quickly going back to his emotionless state.

“You smiled! I saw it! You can't deny it!” You cheered happily.

“Are you going to tell the world now that Batman smiled?” He asked, looking over at you.

“And ruin the fact that I saw Batman smiled? Nah. I’ll keep that secret to myself,” you winked at him.

“Care to patrol Gotham with me?” Batman asked you.

“Are you asking me for help?” You asked surprised.

“More of I’m asking you to keep me company,” Batman tells you.

“Sure. After all, it’s nice to know that I’m warming up to you,” you smiled at him.

“You’re getting there,” Batman said.

"If you want, you can join me in binge watching Bluey," you tell him.

"I'll think about that offer. For now, let's go," Batman said before shooting his grappling hook somewhere and jumping off.

"I think I have a chance with him now," you smile softly before following behind.

#batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #dc #dc imagine #alisonwritesimagines

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jellofish-plant · 21 days ago

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A Different Kind of Love

Pairing: Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Reader

Summary: Life as parents in Gotham isn’t easy, especially when one of you is the infamous Red Hood and the other is trying to keep things together at home. But when it’s just the three of you—your partner, your child, and yourself—the chaos of Gotham can feel a little less daunting. Jason Todd never thought he’d be a father, but with you by his side, he’s learning what it means to love unconditionally.

Warnings:

Parenthood and family fluff

Mild violence (Gotham-style crime-fighting, no explicit content)

Emotional moments

Mentions of Gotham’s dangerous environment

Gotham had a way of testing you, and Jason Todd knew that better than anyone. He’d faced the city’s worst criminals, had lived through death and resurrection, and still nothing had ever made him feel as vulnerable as the day he held his child for the first time.

It had been months since your daughter was born, and in that time, Jason had learned how to protect her just as fiercely as he protected you. But there was something else something softer and more terrifying than any criminal he’d faced: the overwhelming love he felt every time he saw her smile, every time she reached for him with her tiny hands.

He had never been good at emotions. His childhood was a wreck, and he’d never had the luxury of being part of a “normal” family. But with you, everything had changed. The little moments he shared with you and your daughter those were the things that made him believe there could be more to life than just surviving.

The sound of soft giggles drifted from the nursery, and Jason’s lips twitched upward as he adjusted his helmet, finishing up the last of his nightly routine. He knew he should’ve been out on patrol, but tonight, he had made a promise to stay home. Gotham would survive for a few hours without Red Hood especially when it meant he could be with you and the little one.

The door to the nursery creaked open, and there you were, standing in the doorway with your daughter in your arms. Her big eyes shone in the dim light, and when she saw Jason, her little face lit up in a grin.

"Hey, kiddo," Jason said, his voice unusually soft as he knelt down in front of her crib, taking in the sight of her tiny hands reaching toward him.

You watched from the doorway, smiling at the scene. Jason, the fierce vigilante who struck fear into the hearts of Gotham’s criminals, was completely undone by his little girl.

"I think she’s ready for her bedtime story," you said, a playful hint in your voice. "But maybe she wants her dad to read it tonight."

Jason raised an eyebrow, glancing up at you. "She’ll probably fall asleep halfway through, but you know what? I’ll take that as a challenge."

You laughed, and Jason gave you one of those rare, genuine smiles—one that he reserved only for you. He reached out for your daughter, taking her gently from your arms. His protective instincts kicked in as he cradled her against his chest, his strong arms instinctively holding her close, his fingers brushing over her tiny head with the utmost care.

"Alright, little one," Jason murmured, kissing the top of her head. "Let’s see if your old man can do this."

You leaned against the doorframe, watching as Jason settled down in the rocking chair, his daughter resting comfortably against his chest. For all the chaos in his life, for all the times he’d been pushed to the edge of his humanity, moments like these made him feel like he finally had something to fight for something to protect.

Jason cleared his throat, grabbing the book from the small shelf beside the chair. You’d been reading bedtime stories to your daughter for months, but tonight, Jason was in charge.

"So, uh… This one’s called The Brave Little Knight," Jason began, glancing at you for reassurance. "Don’t expect too much, kid. I’m not exactly a storybook kind of guy."

You smiled softly at his self-deprecating tone. Jason had never been good at this type of thing being soft, being gentle but for you and your daughter, he was trying. And that made your heart swell more than you could put into words.

As Jason read, his voice growing more confident with each sentence, your daughter’s eyes fluttered as she fought to stay awake. She was still young enough that the world was mostly about the comfort of your voices, the softness of your touch. But even now, Jason could see the spark of her growing personality in the way she tilted her head toward him, her tiny hands gripping his shirt like she was already trying to keep him close.

"You know," Jason said, his voice quieter now, his gaze softening as he looked down at the baby in his arms, "I never thought I’d be here, doing this."

You leaned against the doorframe, heart in your throat. "What do you mean?"

He hesitated for a moment, his fingers gently brushing your daughter’s cheek as he kept reading. "I wasn’t supposed to be anyone’s father. After everything… after the way I grew up… I never thought I’d be able to be the kind of dad she needs."

You stepped closer, resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t look at you, but you could feel the weight of his words.

"You’re exactly the kind of dad she needs, Jason," you said softly. "You might not have had the best role models, but you’re doing everything you can to be better for her. And that’s all she needs. All we need."

Jason swallowed hard, looking down at your daughter as she began to drift off in his arms. "I just… I don’t want to screw this up. I don’t want her to go through the same things I did."

"You won’t," you assured him, your voice steady. "We’re in this together. And no matter what happens, she’ll always know she’s loved. That’s more than we had, right?"

Jason finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was so raw it took your breath away. "Yeah," he whispered. "You’re right."

He shifted in the chair, adjusting your daughter in his arms as she began to fall into a peaceful sleep. He kissed the top of her head and then looked back at you, his gaze softer than you’d ever seen it.

"Thank you," he murmured. "For giving me this. For giving us this."

You smiled and moved closer, brushing a hand through his hair. "I didn’t do it alone, Jason. You’re a great father. And she’s lucky to have you."

Jason nodded, his lips quirking into a small, almost hesitant smile. "I’m lucky to have you."

And in that moment, with the quiet hum of the night surrounding you, the chaos of Gotham seemed miles away. In that small, safe space, everything felt right. Just the three of you, holding onto each other as a family.

Jason Todd, Red Hood and protector of Gotham, was learning that love had a way of healing even the deepest wounds. And for him, that love was right here small, fragile, but unbreakable.

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armed-with-a-waffle-iron · 10 months ago

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List of Bat Family Team-Ups and Crossovers from the Batman: Reborn Era

While to me the late 90s and early 00s produced the quintessential Bat Family, 2009-11 (plus Convergence) gives us a maturing and quickly evolving Bat Family; forced to reckon with the themselves and their pasts, to sustain a future. Crossovers had a very different tone to 10 years prior; all that shared history now boils to the surface, asking if these already complicated relationships, new and old, will stand the test of time. I also added links and bolded my favourites.

For newer readers: This is the period after Bruce Wayne's "death", which caused a reshuffling of monikers and Gotham to break into chaos. The extended Bat Family at this point includes Dick Grayson (Batman III), Damian Wayne (Robin V), Stephanie Brown (Batgirl IV), Barbara Gordon (Oracle), Helena Bertinelli (The Huntress), Dinah Lance* (Black Canary II), Tim Drake-Wayne (Red Robin), Cassandra Wayne (Black Bat), Selina Kyle (Catwoman), Kate Kane (Batwoman II), Renee Montoya (The Question II), Jason Todd* (Red Hood II) and Bruce Wayne (Batman I).

Team Up Comic Runs

Batman and Robin 2009 (#1-26)

Dick and Damian

Batgirl 2009 (#1-24)

Steph and Babs

Birds of Prey 2010 (#1-15)

Babs, Helena and Dinah

Team Up/Crossover Arcs

Battle for the Cowl (#1-3)

Dick, Babs, Tim, Damian, Helena, Selina, Squire, Cass (cameo), Dinah (cameo), and Jason (antagonist).

Batgirl Rising: Point of New Origin (Batgirl 2009 #1-3)

Steph, Babs, Cass (flashback), and Dick and Damian (cameos)

Revenge of the Red Hood (Batman and Robin 2009 #4-6)

Dick, Damian, and Jason (antagonist)

Life After Death (Batman #692-697)

Dick, Helena, Selina, Babs and Damian

Blackest Night: Batman (#1-3)

Dick, Tim, Damian and Babs

The Eighth Deadly Sin (Batman Annual #27 & Detective Comics Annual #11)

Dick, Renee and Damian

Leviathan (Streets of Gotham #5-6)

Helena, Babs, Dick and Damian

Batgirl Rising: Core Requirements (Batgirl 2009 #5-7)

Steph, Babs, Dick and Damian

Collision (Red Robin # 9, Batgirl 2009 #8 & Red Robin #10-12)

Tim, Steph, Dick, Babs, Damian, and Helena (cameo)

Blackest Knight (Batman and Robin 2009 #7-9)

Dick, Kate, Knight & Squire, and Damian

The Flood (Batgirl 2009 #9-12)

Steph, Babs, Selina (antagonist), Helena (antagonist), and cameos for Dick, Tim and Damian.

Pipeline: Chapter Two (The Question: Pipeline or Detective Comics #859-864)

Renee and Helena

The Hit List (Red Robin #13-17)

Tim, Dick, Damian, Cass (epilogue), and Steph (cameo)

Batman: Imposters (Detective Comics #867-870)

Dick, Babs, and Renee (cameo)

Black Mass (Batman and Robin 2009 #16)

Dick, Damian and Bruce

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batgirl

Steph, Babs and Bruce

The Great Escape (Batman #703 & Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Batman and Robin)

Dick, Damian, Tim and Bruce

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Oracle

Babs, Bruce, and Steph (cameo)

Bruce Wayne: The Road Home: Red Robin

Tim and Bruce

Planet Gotham (Batman: The Return)

Bruce, Dick, Steph, Damian, Babs and Tim

Batman: The Black Mirror (Detective Comics #771-781)

Dick, Commish Gordon, Babs and Tim

All the Rage (Detective Comics Annual 12 & Batman Annual 28)

Dick, Bruce and Renee

The Lesson: Frogs, Snails & Puppy-Dog Tails... (Batgirl #17)

Steph and Damian

Judgement on Gotham (Batman 708, Red Robin #22, Gotham City Sirens #22 & Batman #709)

Dick, Selina and Tim

The Streets Run Red (Batman and Robin 2009 #23-25)

Dick, Damian, and Jason (antagonist)

Five Minutes Fast (Batgirl 2009 #22)

Steph and Squire

Batman Incorporated: Leviathan Strikes!

Steph and Bruce (part 1) | Bruce, Dick, Damian and Tim (part 2)

Hostile Takeover (Birds of Prey #12-13)

Helena, Renee, Babs and Dinah

The Gates of Gotham (#1-5)

Dick, Cass, Damian and Tim

7 Days of Death, Part 3 (Red Robin #25)

Tim and Cass

Storybook Endings (Batman #713)

Dick and Damian, but cameos for Bruce, Tim, Steph, Babs, Helena and Selina.

Unsinkable (Batgirl 2009 #24)

Steph and Babs, cute cameos for Damian and Cass

new reader note: Flashpoint ends Post Crisis continuity here but the 2015 Convergence event revisits this continuity for one last time, giving us a few more complete endings.

Father and Sons (Convergence: Batman and Robin)

Bruce, Damian and Jason

The Love Song of Stephanie Brown (Convergence: Batgirl)

Steph, Cass and Tim

Just One More Thing… (Convergence: The Question)

Renee, Helena and Kate

Birds of Rage (Convergence: Nightwing/Oracle)

Dick, Babs and Dinah

#batman reborn #batman #bat family #dc comics #batfam #comics #dick grayson #damian wayne #stephanie brown #barbara gordon #helena bertinelli #dinah lance #tim drake #cassandra cain #kate kane #renee montoya #jason todd #bruce wayne

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psymarketofobsessions · 9 months ago

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CW: Sharp things (sorta)!!!

And here he is! The WTSTR-verse Jervis Tetch/Mad Hatter design!! (More under the cut!!)

Without his outfit!! :3

Close ups!!

Jervis was a chemistry teacher for the local college in Gotham; his wife, Alice, was the one with the Alice in Wonderland obsession. He wanted to understand her references, so he read the stories, and watched the movies with her. They had that together, and she would say that he looked like the Mad Hatter, and it would become a nickname she would call him. One day, Jervis comes home from work to find out that she's been cheating on him with his own co-worker... He lost his mind, unfortunately, and after bludgeoning them both to death with a croquette mallet he'd bought for Alice's upcoming birthday, he went missing, only reappearing to cause a mass panic in the storybook lane section of Gotham City Park. After that he's been in and out of Arkham for years...

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dc-and-arfrona · 2 years ago

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Lullabies

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Jason Todd x Gn!Reader

Jason Todd and you adopt a kid!

Type: Fluff

Word Count: 1200+

Masterlist

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The night air was crisp as you walked the streets of Gotham City, the dimly lit alleys casting eerie shadows on the walls. Jason Todd, the Red Hood, walked by your side, his presence bringing a sense of security amidst the chaos that surrounded you both. Despite the constant danger, there was something comforting about having him by your side.

As the two of you turned a corner, you caught sight of a poster on a lamppost—a picture of an adorable child with the words "Adopt a Child, Change a Life" written in bold letters. You stopped in your tracks, your gaze fixed on the image. A longing, a yearning welled up within you—a desire to provide a loving home for a child who needed it most.

"Jason," you spoke softly, breaking the silence that hung in the air. "I've been thinking... I want to adopt."

Jason slowed his pace, casting a glance your way. His piercing blue eyes held a mix of curiosity and concern. "Adopt? Are you sure about this, [Y/N]?"

You nodded, your determination shining through. "Yes, I am. I've been thinking about it for a while now, and I believe it's the right thing for me. I want to make a difference in a child's life, to give them the love and care they deserve."

Jason's expression softened, his gaze fixed on you intently. "You know it won't be easy, right? Parenting is a huge responsibility, especially in this city."

You took a deep breath, knowing the challenges that awaited you. "I understand, Jason. It won't be a walk in the park, but I'm willing to put in the effort. Besides, with you by my side, I know we can handle anything that comes our way."

A faint smile tugged at the corners of Jason's lips, a mixture of emotions dancing in his eyes. "You really are something, [Y/N]. Your heart is pure, and your determination is unmatched. Any child would be lucky to have you as their parent."

Your heart warmed at his words, grateful for his support. "Thank you, Jason. That means a lot to me. I believe that together we can create a loving and safe home for a child who needs it."

Jason's hand found its way to yours, his touch reassuring. "I'm with you every step of the way, [Y/N]. We'll navigate this new chapter together. Just promise me one thing—promise me you won't lose sight of your own happiness in the process. Being a parent is fulfilling, but it can also be challenging. You deserve to be happy too."

You squeezed his hand gently, feeling the strength and love that flowed through the connection. "I promise, Jason. I won't forget about myself in this journey. We'll find a balance and make sure we take care of each other."

He nodded, a sense of determination mirrored in his eyes. "Then let's do this. Let's bring joy and love into a child's life, and in turn, they'll bring it into ours."

With those words, the weight of the decision lifted off your shoulders, replaced by excitement and hope. Together, you and Jason embarked on a new adventure—a path filled with challenges, but also with immeasurable rewards. Hand in hand, you walked towards the future, ready to welcome a child into your lives and create a family built on love, trust, and the unwavering bond between the two of you.

Time had passed since that fateful conversation when you and Jason decided to open your hearts and home to a child in need. The paperwork, the interviews, and the waiting had finally led to this moment—the moment when you became parents.

As you stood in the doorway of your child's bedroom, a soft smile tugged at your lips. The room was adorned with toys and colorful decorations, a sanctuary of love and warmth. There, in the dim glow of a nightlight, Jason sat on a small rocking chair, cradling your new child in his arms.

You watched with awe as Jason read a storybook in a hushed voice, his voice filled with tenderness and care. The child's eyes sparkled with delight, completely captivated by the tale unfolding before them. It was a sight that filled your heart with immeasurable joy.

The story reached its end, and as the final words left Jason's lips, you saw a yawn escape his own mouth. He looked down at your child, a playful smile dancing on his tired face. "Looks like someone's getting sleepy, huh?" he whispered.

The child let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to Jason's chest. You couldn't help but feel a rush of affection as you witnessed the bond forming between them—two souls finding solace and love in each other's presence.

Jason's eyes began to droop, his exhaustion catching up to him. With utmost care, he stood up from the rocking chair, gently placing your child into their crib. He leaned against the edge of the crib, watching over them with a protective gaze.

But sleep wouldn't be denied any longer. As the soft lullaby of the night embraced the room, you saw Jason's eyes flutter shut, his head slowly tilting to the side. He had succumbed to the tranquility that filled the space, finding comfort in the presence of your child.

Moved by the sight, you stepped forward, your steps barely making a sound on the carpeted floor. You retrieved a soft blanket from a nearby shelf and approached the crib, careful not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere. Gently, you draped the blanket over Jason, ensuring he stayed warm in his slumber.

With a tender touch, you brushed a strand of hair away from Jason's face, the gesture filled with love and admiration. Then, you turned your attention to your child, tucked safely in their crib. Leaning in, you placed a soft kiss on their forehead, whispering words of love and protection.

In that moment, surrounded by the peacefulness of the room, you realized how your lives had changed. You had become a family—a family built on love, understanding, and the shared desire to make a difference in each other's lives.

With a final glance at Jason and your child, you made your way out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. As you settled into your own bed, your heart was filled with gratitude for the blessings life had bestowed upon you.

In the stillness of the night, you found solace and comfort, knowing that your dreams were intertwined with those you held dear. And as you drifted off to sleep, the image of Jason and your child, wrapped in warmth and love, lingered in your mind—a testament to the beautiful journey you had embarked upon together.

#Jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x y/n #red hood imagines #dc #dc imagines #dc universe #robin x reader

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virgil-is-a-cutie · 4 months ago

Note

I just thought that this would be cool Ngl.

Daring Charming is the next Catwoman to Ravens Batman.

Reason 1.) He’s in love with Raven, and like how there’s a bat there has to be a cat.

Reason 2.) He’s been secretly a fan of Selena Kyle’s work for years, then he accidentally saw her taking some valuables from his castle as a child and saw the freedom that she has that he could only dream of. Selena sets him straight that it’s still dangerous even though it’s freeing.

Reason 3.) He helped her that day and insisted that she trains him in the art of thievery since he doesn’t want to be a Prince Charming anymore because it puts the most pressure on him as the eldest child.

Reason 4.) Daring is more self aware, hates what’s happening and has a banking account under a different name ‘Simone Kyle’ that Selena helped create so that when it hits the fan he can just disappear into thin air. He saved a lot of money from his paychecks from the cat sanctuary that he willingly works at, getting his cut from stealing valuable items (nobody else knows about that little detail except Selena as his mentor), and his allowance. Everyone else thought that he wanted to experience what it’s like working at a job as a way to humble himself before becoming Apple Whites Prince Charming.

And

Reason 5.) He knows that eventually that his parents will disown him if and when they discover that he’s the cat burglar ‘Stray’. Knowing them Daring will also be disinherited and financially cutoff as well.

On legacy day he’s nervous but puts on a brave face, when he sees that he’s the next Catwoman, he proudly declares that he’ll be the next Catwoman of Gotham City, future city siren, and signs the storybook of legends enthusiastically. Then goes to sit next to Raven since he’s the Cat to her Bat.

One, I love this, but I imagine Bruce finds out real quick and basically almost acts like a father figure to Daring, especially once he notices that Daring may have feelings for Raven.

And hey he has Roy, Wally, Connor, and Jon as son in laws, what's an actual prince as a son in law when his only bio daughter is a princess.

Selina took him under her wing of course and let him follow her in heists, but made him stay hidden because well sometimes some of them go bad due to the other rouges trying to do a heist as well and all that. She only gets him during the summer really and it's easy for his parents to not notice him missing much to Selina's dismay.

Daring fell in love with Raven the moment he saw her on TV when she made her first public appearance and sure he hears every now and then from his parents that Raven isn't a pureblooded royal due to being an illegitimate child of Queen Mira Queen-King and Bruce Wayne.

But hey Bruce Wayne was considered The Prince of Gotham, the Waynes were treated like Royalty, meaning to him Raven was indeed a full royal.

But he fell more in love with her once they met in school and saw how majorly different she was from Apple when it came to them doing good deeds.

Raven didn't seek praise nor bragged about her charity work, Apple was the opposite.

Yeah there was an uproar when Daring announced in Legacy Day that he was The Next Catwoman/Catman to the Batman story

Although since this Batman/woman has magic the next gen Batman villains might be screwed especially since Raven can do both dark and light magic.

#ever after high #ever after high au #jenny speaks #raven queen #batman #dc x eah crossover #bio!dad bruce wayne au #bio!dad au #bio!dad bruce wayne au for raven queen

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madelinerainbow · 4 days ago

Text

I wanted to share my fanfiction here in tumblr format too! Are there any Jason Todd / DC / Batman fanfic writer communities out there? :) Such as a discord or group? Pls let me know!

Jason Todd Fic | I’d Sneak Up Behind You And Set You Free | Chapter 1 | An Accumulation of Anguish

Summary:

Six years after his resurrection, Jason Todd did what he sought out to do: Kill the Joker. He's hellbent on purging Gotham City of its injustices, and he's alienated himself from his family and left Laura, a childhood friend, in the dark about his revival. Grieving his death at the news of the clown's murder, Laura and Dick gravitate to Jason’s grave like a pilgrimage to a shrine they both didn't want but felt compelled to journey to.

Word count: 5,122

Rating: Mature

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Major Character Death Additional Tags: Past Violence, Past Torture, Morally Ambiguous Character, Grief/Mourning, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Cemetery, Swearing, Murder, Resurrected Jason Todd, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, Dick Grayson Gets a Hug, Past Abuse, Dark Past, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Dark Jason Todd, Emotional Hurt, Hurt Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Kills Joker (DCU), Dead Joker (DCU), Fist Fight (Mentioned), Joker Murdered Jason and Jason Murdered Him Back, Uno Reverse Card Bruh, But Make It Really F**king Sad

Category: F/M

Fandoms:

Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham Knight Genesis (Comics)

Relationships:

Jason Todd/Original Female Character(s)

Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Bruce Wayne & Tim Drake & Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Damian Wayne

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62326162

Chapter 1 - An Accumulation of Anguish

If I was Atlantis and you were the sea /

I’d sneak up behind you and break your knees /

I’d cut off your fingers and both of your feet /

So you couldn’t reach me, but you couldn’t leave

- Noah Gundersen, ‘Atlantis’

***

Time and again, Gotham City failed to rouse her alarm bells. It shouldn’t, but when the TV in the children’s section of Gotham Central Public Library broadcasted the coverage of the latest crimes with the same subdued flatlined drone of weekend weather announcements, she almost didn’t blink. Almost.

But not today.

Not on the day of the clown’s death.

A child leaned on her knee, desperately involved in the adventures of Ivan the Iceman, along with ten other unshakeable young pairs of eyes upon the storybook in her hands. The children sat in front of her for Storytime, each one riveted with their full attention. They looked like mismatched chess pieces, perched on the colorful foam playmat tiles that swept through the children’s section like a pastel rainbow checkerboard. But their adults: parents that scrolled idly on smartphones, grandparents who cooed over their little ones, and one older preteen brother in attendance, all looked towards the TV monitor with an almost unconscious pull.

Her neck craned upwards as the newscaster’s words filtered from the TV monitor’s low volume. It was a library. The TV monitors were always set to quiet volumes, yet the words: “Joker’s death” ricocheted like a gunshot through the low hush of the building.

The storybook in the librarian’s hands slapped down on her knees like a plane plummeting from the air. The child at her legs reached for the fallen book as if it was the Holy Grail set in front of him. The young boy mouthed at a cardboard corner of the picture book. She vaguely registered the innocent defacement of library property. No one else seemed to notice.

The newscasters shifted in their chairs with an eagerness that wasn’t usual for news beats. Crime in Gotham, she knew, was as common as the snow squalls that settled upon the city. Gotham felt as if it were in a snow globe shaken in the hands of an overzealous handler. If crime was a season in Gotham, it would be an endless winter. Grand larceny, stabbings, bank robberies, cartel trafficking—as ubiquitous as the dirty, garbage encrusted snowbanks pushed up against every sidewalk curb on every street.

The newscasters’ hands flew to their earpieces as a crisp paper fell on their desk, freshly printed. It cut through the screen like a wispy snowflake. its featherlight thinness betrayed the heaviness of the words printed on its face. They scrambled for it like polar bears fighting over the carcass of a plump seal.

“We just received breaking news, Gothamites. Our sources are confirming that the Joker, ruthless and psychotic murderer, has been killed—”

Gotham Central Public Library, already silent, became as quiet as a mausoleum.

She felt herself stop breathing.

The Joker has been killed.

Some part of her brain registered the familiar sound of quick, low-heeled shoes hurrying through the library like a marble skittering across hardwood. Their trajectory was no doubt aimed at her. Voices suddenly hummed up like the chittering of a wasp hive. A parent exclaimed in vengeful joy, a grandparent pulled a child closer. Patrons across the floor spoke in an uproar without regard for the rule of remaining mindful of volume.

And she still couldn’t breathe.

The heeled shoes stopped at her side. A warm hand squeezed her shoulder. She was still startled. She finally inhaled. The boy who tried to chew Ivan the Iceman’s storybook fell to the playmat with an unceremonious thump. The small boy, eyes watery, wailed. The librarian blinked down at the boy, but rather than console him, instead looked up at the owner of the hand on her shoulder. Head Librarian Cathy Mules regarded her with a pinched expression that only those offering condolences could conjure.

“It’s finally over, Laura.” The older woman said to her. Her voice wobbled.

Reflexively, Laura picked up the boy that had fallen at her feet and deposited him on her lap.

“Y-yeah..” She replied. Was it over? “But…they’ve reported his death before, and it was false…” She said. She looked up at the TV monitor again. The child in her lap slowly quieted.

“I feel it, Laura. I know in my arthritic bones that the damn bastard is dead.” Cathy said. None of the parents protested at the profane language. They did not seem to notice, only the preteen boy cast a curious glance at the Head Librarian and noted in baffled silence that no one took offense to the older woman’s curse.

Laura’s hand rubbed soothing circles against the child’s back. The young boy wore a soft, baby blue pint-sized cardigan. Ivan the Iceman’s rosy-cheeked, playfully ice-frosted face was on the front of the child’s shirt. The boy regarded her with tears that dried on his cheeks. She didn’t know if she was comforting him anymore, or herself.

“I’ll believe it when they bring in a body.” She said. “And even then…”

“I woke up today, Laura, and knew--I knew something was going to happen, Laura.” Cathy continued.

Laura grimaced. “Cath, you say that every Wednesday.” Laura replied.

“Is this live?” A parent asked. The young mother pointed at the TV monitor.

Cathy, with a light in her eyes that gleamed with the eagerness of someone all too happy to talk, nodded. “Yes ma’am. Can you believe it? Justice. We finally have justice!” She said. Cathy’s hand tightened on Laura’s shoulder. The gesture was meant to be comforting, but Laura felt like the ring of master keys that dangled from the Head Librarian’s hand at all hours of the day: kept close—and meant to open doors.

Cathy’s face schooled into a solemn expression, her frowning lips thinned as she focused her attention on the young mother. “You know, Laura here, she lost someone very close to her, because of that despicable—"

Laura didn’t realize she was moving until she rose from the seat and quickly deposited the child into Cathy’s unassuming arms. The Head Librarian let out a noise of surprise. The older woman held the boy with a frown, the kind she often wore when inspecting a damaged book from the returns. Laura brushed past Cathy.

“Laura?”

“I need to take my lunch.”

“Oh yes. Well, alright. I’ll finish up Storytime.” Cathy said. She sat on the abandoned seat, the child in her lap, and neither of the two participants seemed to like the new development. Laura mercifully put distance between herself and the group of parents who murmured about the news. The library suddenly felt too crowded. She heard the fading conversation as Cathy continued to speak with the parents.

“Laura is a great team member. So great, it’s just hard—as you may or may not know, she lost—”

Laura burst through the stairwell door by the non-fiction stacks. She slammed it behind her and sealed herself within the muffled, cold vacuum of space in the stairwell. She exhaled shakily.

Was it over?

She had expected some sort of feeling of cold satisfaction.

A sense of justice satiated.

Righting of a wrong.

A bittersweet relief.

Closure.

Was it over?

She sank onto the stairway landing and sat on the concrete step. She pulled out her phone and selected the news app. She scrolled and tapped the live broadcast.

“GCPD has confirmed that their coroner’s office has a body. Forensic identification is underway to confirm that DNA matches that of the Joker, with results set to be announced later this evening—”

Something strangling and sickening suddenly echoed through the stairwell. Laura felt her stomach drop and looked away from her phone. She listened intently for a moment. The sound was almost inhuman. And then it happened again.

A sob.

She clamped her hand over her mouth. It didn’t help. It happened again. A sad, agonized sound. Her phone clattered onto the step by her feet, and she heaved another body-racking cry.

Was it over?

No.

It would never be over.

She cried with the ferocity of a plastic bag tossed up into the air by a wind tunnel—her body weak and flimsy against the larger, errant force of emotion that swept through her. She cried hard, low and anguished. It echoed in the stairwell. When a doorway above opened, and she heard a pair of patrons discussing a book club read, she clamped her hands over her mouth again and took in a watery breath.

She scrambled to pick up her phone off the step and scuffed her nails against the concrete. She rose to her feet, and felt an uncomfortable tightness in her chest. She couldn’t take a full breath. She stumbled down the flight of stairs towards the basement of the library. She fished her keys out of her pocket and opened the door at the bottom of the stairs. The usual musty, old carpet smell of the staff room wafted over her as she entered the room.. She felt tears and snot run down her face, which she wiped with her sleeve.

No.

Joker’s Death.

It would never be over.

She sobbed again. And then froze. David, one of the library’s cataloguers, looked up from where he stood in the break room’s small kitchenette. He held a cup of coffee in one of his slim hands and in his other, he held his ancient flip phone. His eyes widened as he regarded her.

“Oh, Laurs sweetheart—”

“M’okay, David.” She swiftly said.

“Laurs, my son just sent me the news.” He said. He set down his cup and phone on the stained, beige laminate countertop. He pulled off his reading glasses. His eyes, sharp and fatherly, settled on her. He spoke to her in a low and soothing voice. “It’s alright, Laurs. We know how hard this must be for—”

“It’s okay, David. I just need to go sit in my car.” She replied.

“Laurs—”

“I just need a moment, David? Okay? That’s all I need.” She said tearfully. She moved to the staff lockers by the seating area and grabbed her jacket from her assigned locker. Her work bag. Her uneaten lunch. Her mittens. Her hat.

She cast a look back at David, and she noticed his lightly stubbled chin bobbed for a moment in the dim lighting of the kitchenette’s lamp. He ran a thin hand through his salt and peppered hair. He looked as if he wanted to offer her a hug, but he sighed heavily instead and stayed rooted in the kitchenette like a dog told to stay. He held up his hand in an appeasing gesture.

“I’ll tell Cath you headed out early, Laurs. You take the day. You take all the time you need; you hear?” He said.

Her throat bobbed. David suddenly looked blurry. She nodded. “Thankyou.” She said, and rushed back out of the staffroom door.

She ascended the stairwell and pulled on her jacket. The jacket that she couldn’t make herself throw away. The one that she inherited six years ago. The one she religiously kept clean, re-zippered when the zip broke once, the jacket she kept close, the one she wore even when it started to get too warm. A keepsake. A memory manifested into an everyday object. One that haunted her.

Joker’s death.

She hugged the jacket closer. The brown leather still held the scent. Another broken sob left her mouth as she rushed back up the stairs.

A death too late.

She entered the stacks of the main floor and trekked across the library towards the entrance. She didn’t spare a glance at the children’s section. Not at the TV monitors. Not at Cathy who drew a crowd of parents as she disclosed something so grievous and confidential that Laura felt she should file a formal HR complaint. She couldn’t look and witness those parents who would surely gaze back at her now with eyes full of pity.

She heard when Cathy called out her name, but Laura ignored her and pushed through the library’s front doors and out into the parking lot. It had snowed again, another fresh half foot of snow. The wind whipped it up as she trudged to her car. She swept the snow off the top of her car and the windshield with a snow brush. Her movements were choppy. She practically threw herself into the driver’s seat. She keyed the engine into ignition, and blinked away tears. She maneuvered her car out of the snowy parking lot and into the streets of Gotham.

She drove straight to the cemetery.

***

In loving memory

Jason Todd

1990 - 2008

Loved Son

Steadfast Brother

Loyal Friend

The grave marker left out a few key details.

Second Robin

Joker’s Victim

Laura brushed off a layer of snow from the top of the dark stone. The cemetery was vacant of the living, except for her. The markers sprawled across the acres of snowy land. Bare trees intermittently interspersed between the graves and trembled in the icy wind. The midday sky clouded above her, the slate grey sheet of clouds were as grey as the graves and threatened more snow.

She gulped in a stinging breath of air.

“He’s dead.” She told the stone.

You're dead.

Her lavender mitten brushed away more snow off the top of the grave marker. She did it with the reticence one would if they were dusting an old, delicate painting. And then her hand curled into a fist. It dropped against the flat of the granite, hard and angry. A smattering of snowflakes scattered as wool and flesh thunked against rock ineffectually.

“God– ” She choked out, and wept.

She cried without care for retaining any decency about it. She cried until she heard footsteps crunching through the snow–steady and approaching.

When she looked up she saw the bright blue sleeve of a winter jacket splayed out before her, and then she was swept up into a familiar embrace. She smelled the plastic, wintery smell of the polyester jacket–and then the bright scent that was Dick Grayson.

“Hi.” She said, and her voice sounded watery.

He didn’t reply right away. He just held her and let the warmth that was him settle over her.

“You shoulda called me, sweetheart.” He said. His voice sighed with the long-suffering, concerned chiding of an older brother.

“Did they really kill him?” She asked.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” He replied.

She wept harder.

“W-who did it?” She asked.

Dick stiffened, and she felt the sharp stubble of his jaw sweep across her scalp as he bundled her closer under his chin.

“Doesn’t matter, hun.” He said.

“Yeah it does–”

She felt his jaw tick, but as quickly as it did, it relaxed into a sigh that warmed her hair.

As if reluctant, he finally spoke. “They call him the Red Hood.” He said, voice low and tight. A beat of silence. “You’ve heard of him yet?” He asked.

She nodded and his jacket crinkled against her cheek.

It was quiet. Dick’s head swiveled toward the grave marker. She felt more than watched as he silently looked at the grave that housed his younger brother. When she pulled away from him, Dick’s eyes were contemplative and pained.

She thought she recognized in his expression the same grief and anger that filled her own heart. It was only later that she realized that his grief was different. His grief was borne of a different kind of loss and anguish that she herself would soon confront.

They called him the Red Hood.

The Joker’s murderer.

And Gotham celebrated.

And two out of a handful of people within Gotham–that had loved Jason–did not celebrate. They mourned.

Dick’s eyes returned to her. His gaze sharpened with a swift and intense intelligence; a familiar look that he and his family had an uncanny likeness with. They shared an evaluative stare that unnerved most, and Laura recognized it as an ability ingrained into them with their vigilante roots. Or maybe it was just a Bruce Wayne glare that he imparted along to his adoptive children. Nonetheless, out of the entirety of their family, Dick had a gentleness to him that always chased and tempered the intense stare as quickly as it appeared.

“Let’s get some lunch, Laurs.” He volunteered.

She shook her head. Her stomach felt as if hewn from the stone of the grave marker. It felt heavy and inorganic in her gut. “I can’t eat when I’m like this.” She said.

Dick’s eyes softened. “Alfred misses you.” He said gently.

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Laura broke into another fit of tears. Dick pulled her by her elbow into another hug. “He made shepherd’s pie, your favorite, Laurs.” He murmured into her hair.

Laura shook her head. “I can’t go back–” she sniffled.

She felt Dick’s hands grasp the thick leather of the jacket–Jason’s jacket–around her shoulders.

“Yeah you can.” He said gently. “You’re always welcome back.” He said. “You know that.” He murmured.

His voice sounded impossibly assuring. It sounded like this was something he had said before–and recently–because when she lifted her eyes back to his, Dick’s throat bobbed heavily.

“It’s just lunch, Laurs.” He said.

She gave him a soft glare. Dick’s thin mouth upturned into a half smirk, but there was an anxious exhale of breath that accompanied it.

“Okay, maybe I can admit that Alfred’s stress-cooking. And Bruce’s been holed up in the Cave all morning…” He acquiesced. His eyes turned imploring. “And you're here …crying…” He added gently. “And I’d like us all to be together…y’know.” He continued, and he squeezed her. “Dealing with this together.” He murmured.

She stared at him, feeling something more than rigid, rough grief in her body.

“Okay.” She said.

He rubbed her shoulder through the leather jacket, then nodded towards her car–and his car parked next to it–in the distance. He must have been on his way to the cemetery just as she had earlier. She wasn’t sure if it was because he himself had needed to be here, or if he had known she’d gravitate to Jason’s grave like a pilgrimage to a shrine they both didn't want but felt compelled to journey to.

“You can head over to the Manor. I’ll be behind you in a minute.” He said. She nodded. She turned her face back to the tombstone, and with one final look that traced the letters of Jason’s name, turned and walked to her car.

Dick watched her bundle herself into her little tiny Toyota. Her car swept out of the cemetery with both what looked like a reluctance in its wheels and an earnestness in its speed. He exhaled bodily.

His gloved hands felt cold even in the deep wells of his winter jacket pockets. He stood for a moment: a statue of contemplation and contained restlessness. He pulled his phone out. He tapped at the screen, slotted an earbud into his ear, and waited as the phone dialed. His mouth hardened from the reassuring smile he had given Laura into a fatigued frown. The phone rang, for an impossibly long time, until he figured the recipient wouldn’t pick up. Typica–

The line connected.

A heavy, weighted silence followed. And then sharp and straight to the point, Dick paced the line of grave markers and spoke, his breaths punctuating the air.

“I don’t know what I’m more angry at, Jaybird.” Dick volleyed, voice prim. “The fact that you killed him, or that you’re still leaving her in the dark.” He said, voice bitter and accusatory.

Silence taunted him. Until he heard the shuffle of a phone jostled on the other side of the line–the uneasy creak of plastic and thin metal under a fair amount of stress. The unmistakable sound of a fist that tightened around a piece of technology that should definitely not be compressed.

“You know why it’s warranted, Dickhead.” Jason answered. His voice was colder than the barren cemetery.

Dick felt anger seize his thoughts. “Murder? Or pretending you’re still dead?” Dick whipped back. “Both aren’t warranted.” He continued. “Bruce is beside himself, Jay.” Dick said, and his voice suddenly lowered into an apprehensive register.

His paces along the grave stones stuttered until he stopped: a statue now bent like the figure of Atlas. The world held heavy on his shoulders. “And you know what? So am I.” Dick continued, as vulnerability seeped into his tone.

A harsh scoff puffed on the other side of the line.

A hot vein of anger burned in Dick’s chest and overpowered the mounting anxiety.

“Jay– Jesus –you killed him! You went against the code.” He said. He pinched the bridge of his nose between two gloved fingers and squeezed his eyes shut. “I know you’re dealing with the effects of the Pit–but it’s like you’re a different per–”

“I didn’t shoot the bastard because of the Pit, Dickhead.” Jason’s voice was like a shotgun blast. “He deserved to die, Dick.” He growled.

Dick inhaled sharply.

He remembered a boy, twelve years old, who beat the shit out of a prickhead tenth grader twice Jason’s size because the kids had made a nasty comment about Jason’s mother being addicted to drugs.

He also remembered a boy, fourteen years old, that had cried when he read Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein. A boy who sobbed when the family of villagers rejected the monster due to its grotesque appearance.

He remembered a sixteen year old kid, who laughed when an attacker’s gun had blasted a bullet way, way too close to Jason’s head. He remembered the sheer stomach dropping fear that had twisted Dick’s insides, even as Jason–as Robin–landed a fist against the shooter’s face. The blow had been devastatingly precise, with a little too much force, as the boy grinned without mirth.

He remembered a boy that bolted down Alfred’s dinners like someone might take his meal away at any moment. Bruce had gently reminded Dick later that Jason had spent time in the juvenile system, and had reminded him of how often Jason had gone without proper meals living with his mother and her addiction.

“He deserved to die –” Jason repeated on the other side of the line. His voice filled with such a feral viciousness that made Dick remember with startling, agonized clarity that one memory of Jason’s last Christmas six years ago–when Dick had gifted Jason a first-edition copy of Frankenstein. He remembered the soft and meaningful, almost boyish tone of: “Thank you,” from Jason.

“I did what had to be done.” Jason said. “And I will continue to do what needs to be done.” He growled. “Because this goddamn city deserves actual justice–”

“It’s not justice, Jason!” Dick snapped. “It’s murder! It’s killing! ” He said.

“It’s necessary!” Jason shouted.

“It’s not you, Jason!” Dick argued.

There was an angry cry from the other side of the line, then a series of harsh cracks, like a phone being slammed against a table repeatedly. The volley of fury pierced at Dick’s eardrum. He winced.

“I killed him!” Jason bellowed with cold certainty. “Wrap your goddamn head around it–! I am not stopping at just the clown.” Jason snarled. “I’ll kill every rotten, sack-of-shit lowlife in this city! I will purge every god forsaken corner–”

Dick remembered the tapes sent by the clown to taunt Bruce. The horrific, insane, unreal tapes of something that should have never been done, let alone filmed. He remembered the harsh blue and purple of Jason’s skin in the tapes: Jason’s entire torso bruised inhumanly. The sight of an eighteen year old boy harmed so badly that Bruce had never really recovered from it. Jason’s tortured figure had been so wrong that Dick’s first and visceral reaction had been That’s not my brother.

The same thought welled up in his head like blood burgeoned from a wound.

That’s not my brother.

“I will tear down every cartel–every trafficking ring–”

“We can help you, Jay–” Dick’s voice didn’t sound like it usually did; confident, assured…it sounded small and breathless. It pleaded.

“I’ll put a bullet right through the head of every single shit stain that walks these streets–”

“We can help you, I promise.” Dick’s voice shook. “We can get you help–”

“I don’t need help! ” The voice rioted from the other side of the line. Jason’s breaths were like the sharp snaps of a nail gun, fast and piercing. “I don’t need your fucking help!" He said.

“Yes you d–”

The line went dead.

Dick cursed. He tore the earbud from his ear and ran a hand through his dark hair. He stared, his eyes wet and hot, at the tombstone. He stood–knowing somewhere in Gotham–Jason was doing the exact same thing:

“Deep breaths, center yourself in your body. You’re less effective when you’re overcome by emotions." Bruce’s training echoed in both of them.

He collected himself by piecemeal.

He felt cold snowflakes against his cheeks.

Laura was already likely driving on one of the highways, making her way to the Manor.

He scuffed the heel of his boot into the snow tracks.

Alfred was likely coaxing Bruce out of the cave with the pointed emphasis only an Englishman can have on attending tea time like a respectable Wayne.

He heard the pale, soft scrape of a dislodged autumn leaf blown across a snowbank.

Tim was likely orbiting the cave like a satellite, making nonchalant overtones of hacking the morgue’s systems to ensure they did an actual, qualified autopsy on the clown. However, he was overseeing their father’s quiet, brooding breakdown with thinly veiled concern. When he types too loudly on his laptop, he’ll hear Bruce say: “Not so loud, Jason.” In a low cadence that makes it known Bruce isn’t aware he just called Tim by his other son’s name.

He tasted the wind: frigid and mild against the thickness of his tongue that felt too dry in his mouth. He sucked at his teeth with another breath.

Damian was probably still sleeping into the late afternoon. But Alfred would rouse him, patient and impart the sensitive news. Damian would arrive in the dining room later, cast furtive looks at Bruce and Laura and Dick, and sit with them until he would make some awful, awful little brother joke about something innocuous that would rouse all three of them out of their grief.

Because Fuck. They were grieving. In different ways. Laura didn’t even know. And Dick wrangled with the urge to tell her. But how could he tell her?

That Jason was the Red Hood?

Because that wasn’t his brother.

He walked back to his car, got into the driver’s seat and began to head to the Manor.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had left something behind after that phone call.

That feeling lingered as he thought of the empty coffin in Jason's plot. The sickening realization that Jason wasn’t still six feet under the soil—a fact that should have been rejoiced. And yet, with his resurrected brother roaming Gotham like a vengeful fallen angel, Jason felt more dead to Dick than if he were buried.

He wondered how often Jason wished that he was still dead.

No one becomes so fixated, so unyielding in dispensing death, unless they’re running from something—driven by a need to impose fear, control, or escape their own demons. Dick had seen too much of Gotham's worst to miss the shadow that now hounded his brother.

And Jason had run right to the Joker, shot a bullet through the clown’s grinning teeth and vindicated his own death-–with more of it.

Dick thought of Jason’s Frankenstein , the first edition book carefully shelved. His other copy, paperback, that had still been left on his bedside table in his old room in the Manor. Dick’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. After Jason’s death, he remembered flipping through the annotated pages of the paperback. He had been grieving and seeking the ghost of his little brother in the highlighted pages of a story beloved to Jason. He remembered one quote, scrawled by Jason on the title page-–a quote inscribed in the book from the film adaptation:

“I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine, and rage in me the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other."

Jason had been expelled from the school for beating up the tenth grader. Not even Bruce Wayne’s nepotism had gotten Jay back into that school's good graces. He had had to re-register to a different school and Jason’s violent reputation had followed him there too.

That’s not my brother.

But it was.

It was.

Dick drove, feeling out of body, in the way only an eldest sibling can when it feels like pieces of him walked the world four times over: in his own body, in Tim’s, in Damian’s, and in Jason’s. In Jason’s.

Jason had died that day six years ago by Joker’s insidious hands. After months of torture.

But so had a piece of Dick. And to then have that piece recovered –to have Jason walk the Earth again–resurrected and hurt and angry...

Dick often felt like he was struggling to sweep up all the pieces he carried–all the pieces he had to carry–to keep all these people he loved safe– the world pitching off of Atlas's shoulders …

He knew somewhere out there in Gotham City, Jason was trying to collect himself too. He knew that they both carried a piece of something that they needed to carry, but struggled with the weight of it.

”You’re welcome, Jaybird.” Dick had replied.

Jason held the gifted first edition book like it was a treasure.

“You wanna watch the film later? Frankenstein looks pretty freaky in it.” Dick said. There was a twinkle in his gaze that hinted at playful mockery. Jason tossed him an eyeroll.

“Shut up, Dickhead. The film’s trash. Also the monster isn’t Frankenstein– it’s the doc–”

“Yeah, yeah, I know that, you nerd.”

Jason’s expression twisted with further frustration, but he thumbed through the novel’s pages with a reverence in his body language that spoke of quiet gratitude. His sharp eyes returned to Dick, glaring but not simmering with their usual fire.

Because that was his brother.

A man filled with rage. But love. There was also love in Jason.

And a handful of people knew it.

He just hoped Jason remembered he was one of them.

#jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fic #jason todd x oc #jason todd x ofc #jason todd x original female character #the red hood x oc #the red hood #just wanted to share my fic #jason todd and dick grayson #angst #grief #character death #batman fanfiction #batfamily dynamics

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hillery · 4 days ago

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batwheels s4 the youtube edition: ducky's tuba

transcript ver.

in the parkam scrapyard, Bugs Bunny Hillery was coming to visit ducky

hillery: hello

ducky walk closely to Hillery

ducky: Hello, Hillery! It's nice to see you. How have you been?

hillery: i was just bought a store in the library

ducky: Wow, that's wonderful! Starting your own store in the library is quite an achievement. maybe voice box the one he has that book like that

hillery: oh is it? well i brought you about it so.. you can believe me.

when moonlight bunny was here in the parkam scrapyard

hillery: moonlight bunny??? what are you doing here?

Moonlight Bunny: Oh, Hillery. I didn't expect to see you here in the parkam scrapyard.

hillery: yes but' where is voice box?

voice box surprised

voice box: HERE I AM Did someone call for me?

but Hillery was totally confused to Voice Box

hillery:..no?

voice box: oh...well ok.

ducky ran over to Hillery, Moonlight and voice box

ducky: GUYS! I GOT SOMETHING!

voice box: what is it ducky?

showing a jonh phillp sousa

ducky: Look what I found! It's a portrait of John Philip Sousa!

voice box: john phillip sousa?

moonlight: john philip

hillery: who's that???

ducky: John Philip Sousa was an incredibly influential composer and bandmaster, known for his powerful and marches. He played a pivotal role in shaping the sound of American military and patriotic music.

hillery and moonlight: oooooohhh

voice box: uhh ducky...do you have your fourth instruments when you just playing your tuba?

ducky: Of course, I do! I always have my tuba with me. It's my favorite instrument, and I never leave home without it. Do you want to see it?

hillery: wait, wait, wait, duck.. if your favorite instrument is a tuba..i had something like this pull out a story book in this bag

ducky: Oh, what's that?

hillery: this is my storybook. it's called "ducky's tuba" there is ducky from batwheels, the picture is you.

ducky: A storybook about me and my tuba? gasps Let me see it!

hillery: this is a story book I bought it in the Library store that's why this is a story book when I was little I was by this because it's a really good geeks and loved story

ducky: So you've had this storybook since you were little? It's about me and my tuba? That's amazing! Why didn't I know about this before?

hillery: that's because I read a story for my Geeks and Love on my imagine of the drama that's why it's a good book. do you want to hear my story.

ducky: Absolutely, I want to hear your story! Please, go ahead and share it with us. I'm all ears!

hillery: *chuckles* okay come on guys

*sitting down and hear hillery's story*

hillery: Once Upon a Time and the truly of Gotham. they are spending the day of the Geeks and love special everyone was having a Geeks and love and the Gotham City. oh and also there is Ducky..ducky is walking around in the whole trip he wished that he imagined to practice his sousaphone in the school marching band

ducky: quack ** quack *imagine the marching band*

hillery: ducky was heading to the marching band and he marched around and play his sousaphone for a long time....suddenly. there's redbird

ducky surprised

redbird: oh hey ducky

ducky: Oh, hey Redbird! Quacks, what are you doing here?

redbird: I was trying to supporting the legendary of jokes

ducky: Supporting the legendary of jokes? What do you mean by that?

redbird: it's a mission of night solo it is going to be fun

ducky: A mission for Fun? That sounds exciting! Count me in!

*song: drive with me*

hillery: moments later..ducky is saw something

ducky: little birdie you might going to take a look at this

redbird: what is it ducky *gasps

hillery: the big TV screen was the John Philip Sousa who plays in the marching band the they are

redbird: holy hubcaps who's this?

ducky: That's John Philip Sousa! He was a famous composer and bandmaster, known for his powerful and inspirational marches.

redbird: wow John Philip Sousa love to play tuba and about you, duck?

ducky: Oh, I absolutely love playing the tuba! It's my favorite instrument. It has such a rich, deep sound, and it's incredibly versatile. Plus, being part of the marching band is so much fun! quack quack

redbird: it looks like we can go to the music store

ducky: Music store? Sounds quacktastic! I could definitely use some new sheet music and maybe a new mouthpiece for my tuba.

redbird: yeah you know ducky my favorite instrument is playing a xylophone. I play xylophone so that's why bam just learned me how to play it.

ducky: oh okay. that's very nice

get in to the music store

hillery: when they arrived to the music store they telling the salegirl to get his tuba

salegirl: oh hello. what can i help you?

ducky: Hello! We're here to check out your selection of tubas. Do you have any good ones in stock?

salegirl: now two you those. this is John Philip Sousa

ducky: john philip sousa

redbird: we remmember it. so…how is john philip sousa looks like?

salegirl: John Philip Sousa was a legendary composer and bandmaster, known for his powerful and iconic marches such as "Stars and Stripes Forever" and "Semper Fidelis." He was also a highly respected figure in the military and patriotic music world. The tuba is named after him as a tribute to his significant contributions to music.

ducky: oh.. and then?

salegirl: This specific tuba model was designed to honor the legacy of John Philip Sousa and pay homage to his musical style and technique. It has a rich, powerful tone and is perfect for playing marches and other brass band music. Would you like to give it a try?

salegirl: just wait here i'll be right back

*taking a tuba*

salegirl: it can be a little tricky chuckles no worries.

*give to ducky*

salegirl: here you go

ducky: Wow, this feels really nice! Thank you so much!

salegirl: your welcome my friend

ducky: Right on! Let's get going, Redbird. Thanks again, salesgirl!

redbird and ducky: go!!!! BATWHEELS!!

hillery: and so redbird and ducky we're having a great day playing music together especially the tuba Ripper loves dancing and he hear the song to The Animals a squirrel and everyone loves to make music and also a good voice to the Geeks and love was a musical happily geeksing forever...THE END

ducky: *gasp* That was an incredible story, Hillery. Thank you for sharing it with us.

voice box: yes i like your story

ducky: Glad you enjoyed it, Voice Box! Hillery's storytelling skills are truly remarkable.

moonlight: it doesn't look so bad isn't it?

hillery: very well, moonlight it was a whole day like when i'm good at this

*everyone laughs*

the end

this episode is based on the video "JP's sousaphone"

@inspectorcosmo @gamerdiana @bamthebatmobile @thatstoopidduckyboat @quizzthesillyhelicopter

youtube

#batwheels #batwheels ducky #Youtube

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adhdnursegoat · 4 months ago

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Reformed! Arkhamverse

cw: fluffy angsty goodness 😊, comfort

note: took a page from @caesariawritesstuff's Cat & Mouse because this Eddie is reformed and is more like Origins Eddie :) also, this was supposed to be for Friday 10/12 but this apparently wants to be posted. So enjoy a day early!!

“I’m going to kill him.”

word count: 2.1k

And you know he’s serious.

Edward stands before you, an embodiment of barely restrained fury, his clear blue eyes blazing with a fire so fierce you almost have to look away. His hands are clenched into tight fists at his sides, the muscles in his forearms bulging against the fabric of his rolled shirt sleeves, straining as though they’re moments away from snapping. You can see the twitch in his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, you can hear the shudder in his breath—he’s holding himself back by the thinnest thread.

It’s a testament to his self-control that he hasn’t already lunged at the man who dared lay a hand on you. His body trembles slightly, vibrating with tension, each breath a calculated attempt to rein in the storm brewing inside him. The air between you is thick with his rage, a palpable force that both grounds you and sends a ripple of unease through your stomach.

And yet, instinctively, you step closer.

You don’t know whether it’s to shield him or keep him from unleashing the tempest stampeding through his veins, but you place yourself between him and the man now wisely retreating, his face pale with terror. You could see it in the man’s eyes—the dawning realization of who he’s offended. He had no idea whose partner he was touching, whose wrath he had summoned. Now he knows. Now he sees. He’s an idiot.

“Edward, stop,” you say, your voice firm yet soft as you press a hand against his chest. Beneath your fingers, you can feel the wild, erratic beat of his heart—each pulse heavy with the weight of his restraint. It’s a force of nature contained only by sheer willpower.

But his eyes remain locked on the man, unblinking, his focus so laser-sharp it sends a shiver down your spine. The man is retreating, inch by inch, but Edward’s gaze is fixed, dangerous, a predator sizing up its prey. You’re not sure if he’s listening to you at all. The world has narrowed to one point, and all he sees is the insult, the violation, the audacity.

You take a breath and push harder against his chest, leaning into the pressure, hoping to anchor him, to bring him back from the brink. “Edward, look at me,” you plead, voice lower, softer, the kind of tone you know reaches him when nothing else can. “Please.”

“I’m not letting him get away with that,” Edward grits out, his voice low and seething. It’s a guttural sound, a primal instinct clawing its way to the surface. You can hear the squeak and grind of his molars, his jaw clenched so tight you worry he might crack a tooth. There’s a dangerous edge to his demeanor, a violent energy that radiates out. He tries to push past you, but you hold your ground, splaying both hands against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm.

“Yes, you are,” you reply, your tone unwavering as you meet his furious gaze with calm determination. You try to find his eyes, to anchor him to the moment, to you. “Look at me, Ed… Please, just look at me.”

After a beat, his lips remain pulled into a dangerous sneer. Then Edward ’s frozen flame eyes flicker down to you, their usual bright intensity now stormy, darkened by rage. For a fleeting moment, you think you’ve lost him to his old impulses, to the Riddler who took what he wanted and punished those who crossed him. There is a glint of something wild and predatory in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine. You grimace, not enjoying having this energy now focused on you.

But then he blinks, seeing you through the red mist encroaching his mind, and you notice a glimmer of hesitation in his eyes. Finally. It’s the crack you need to reach him, a momentary opening in the armor of fury that surrounds him. You hold his gaze, feeling the intensity of his anger crackling, popping, and slowly fizzling to a smolder between your eyes, much like a fuse burning out seconds from an explosive ignition.

“That’s it, my love,” you coo, your voice soothing as you stroke his chest gently. Your fingertips brush against the fabric of his vest, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breathing beneath it. Each breath is a tumultuous wave, the tension in his muscles beginning to ease just a fraction under your touch. “Just breathe, okay?”

He lets out a ragged breath, the sound escaping his lips like the release of a pressure valve. The tension in his shoulders sags slightly, and for a moment, you both stand in a fragile silence, the world around you fading into the background. “He touched you…,” he grits out, his voice husky with anger, each word tinged with a raw, protective instinct. It churns within him, a wildfire ignited every time he thinks of someone disrespecting you, of someone daring to encroach upon what he sees as rightfully his. But when he sees the steady look in your eyes, something shifts; a tremor of doubt flits across his features.

Edward closes his eyes, drawing in a deep breath, as if trying to anchor himself in the storm. When he opens them again, the tempest begins to subside. His blue irises are bright once more, though his brows remain furrowed in concern, a cloud of worry hanging over him like a shadow. “I can’t just stand by and do nothing when someone thinks they can treat you like that. Thinking they can touch what’s mine.”

The intensity of his possessiveness washes over you, wrapping around your heart like a tight embrace, both exhilarating and unsettling. You can feel the heat of his anger morphing into something deeper—an unwavering desire to protect, to claim, to own. And while you understand the danger embedded in his rage, the way it ignites his passion is undeniably intoxicating. The knowledge of how far he’s willing to go for you sends both a thrill of apprehension and arousal dancing down your spine.

Yet, your heart twists at the sight of him struggling, wrestling with his old instincts. Edward is trying so hard to change, to leave the darkness behind, but moments like this threaten to pull him back into the shadows. You lift a hand to cup his cheek, brushing your thumb gently across his skin, grounding him in the present.

“I know,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I know you want to protect what’s yours. But you promised yourself you’d do better, remember? And you’re doing so well, Edward. You’ve come so far.” Your other hand finds his face as well, ensuring his attention is fixed on you when you say, “I’m so, so proud of you…”

You smile up at him, your eyes shining with sincerity, trying to mirror the warmth of your words. You continue to pet his cheek, showering him with the tender love and care he needs—no, deserves. “Don’t throw that all away because of one jerk. He’s not worth it.”

He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he fights to steady his breathing, the rhythm still uneven. “I can’t do this. I need to break his fingers. I need to-”

“Shh,” you interrupt gently, pulling his face towards yours with a delicate touch. You lean in, resting your forehead against his, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. You can sense his rapid breaths, his body still coiled like a spring, ready to snap at any moment. “You need to use that big, sexy brain of yours and reason with yourself. You can. I believe in you. You are the smartest, most resilient man I know. World’s Greatest Everything—right? You can do this.”

You feel him exhale shakily, his eyes fluttering closed as he leans into your touch. “You’re right…” His hands, which had been hanging limply at his sides, now come up to hold your hips. His grip is tight, almost desperate, as if he’s afraid you might slip away. “I hate this.”

“I know you do,” you say softly, nuzzling his nose with your own. Then you let you hands push back into his hair, fingers threading into the dark strands. “What matters is how you handle it, and you’re handling it right now. You stopped. You listened to me. That’s progress.”

He opens his eyes, looking at you with frustration but vulnerability. The dark shadows beneath his blue irises betray the tumult swirling in his mind. “You make it sound so easy,” he murmurs bitterly, his voice laced with a heaviness that echoes the struggle within him. “But it’s not. I want to hurt him.”

You sigh, your fingers instinctively playing with the dark hair at the nape of his neck, seeking to ground both him and yourself. “I know. And it’s okay to want that. It’s okay to feel angry, to want to protect me. But both of us—even he knows—you could yeet his ass from this mortal coil.”

Edward chuckles at your silly encouragement, the sound breaking through the storm of his fury. It’s a crack of amusement in his dissipating rage, and it makes your soul sing, a warm note of relief coursing through you.

“But you don’t have to act on every impulse,” you continue, your voice softer now, wrapping around him like a comforting blanket. “You’re more than your anger.”

For a long moment, he just stares at you, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find the truth reflected back. His brow furrows as he sifts through everything you’ve said. You can almost see the gears turning in his mind, letting the gentle tide of your voice roll a wave of calm through his body. He sighs, pressing his forehead more firmly against yours, the warmth of his skin grounding you both in this fragile moment.

Then, finally, he exhales a slow, shuddering breath, a release of tension that seems to echo in the air around you. He wraps his arms around you completely, pulling you into a tight embrace— a recognition of your unwavering support. You can feel the tension in his body slowly easing, replaced by a weary sort of resignation, as if the weight of his burdens is shared in this closeness.

“Okay,” he murmurs into your hair, the sound softening the edges of his earlier anger.

You nod in appreciation, your arms encircling his neck, anchoring him further. “You’re doing your best, Ed... That’s enough for me.” You offer a small smile, one filled with warmth and understanding. “Now, how about we get out of here? Go home? We can sit down, relax, and forget about that asshat. I can massage your neck and shoulders. That always makes you feel better, yeah?” Making your point, one of your hands strokes and squeezes the tight muscles at the back of his neck, feeling the tension begin to dissipate beneath your touch.

A faint smile tugs at the corners of his mouth as he groans, leaning into your caress, and he nods. “Yeah. A massage sounds wonderful,” he purrs, his voice still hoarse but no longer filled with fury. In a sudden surge of affection, he reaches forward, cupping your cheeks in both hands and drawing your face closer to his. “You’re never leaving me,” he declares, his tone possessive yet tender, as he presses in an affirming kiss on your lips. It’s firm, grounding, a period instead of a question mark.

You break the kiss, whispering “promise” against his lips, before kissing him once more, and then his nose, a playful gesture that earns you another soft chuckle from him. You pat his cheek, then take his hands from your face, your fingers interlacing with his. Feeling a warm glow well up in your chest, you give him a soft smile, a gesture filled with tenderness, and then you tug him gently. “Let’s go home.”

As you pull him through the bar, the atmosphere around you shifts, the noise of the crowd fading into a comforting background hum. You glance back at him, giving a warm, knowing smile. “You know, the new season of Love Is Blind is out now. We can watch that when we get home too.”

Edward’s blue eyes widen behind his glasses, and a spark of excitement ignites in his gaze. He starts walking faster, now tugging you along with newfound energy. “Darling, why didn’t you say that sooner? You know I love watching those idiots torture themselves in that sorry excuse for an experiment.”

#selfshiptober 2024 #riddler #riddler x reader #edward nigma #fanfic #arkham knight #female reader #arkham origins riddler #arkham origins #reformed riddler #riddler fanfiction #gotham city storybook #ask the goat

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multi-esme · 2 years ago

Text

Selina's update

Sitting on the rooftop of a building, Selina sighs as she looks down to see the crimes of Gotham going about along with the city night activities. Having been let to roam around while her son was safe at home, she began to miss the chasing scene, the thrill.

"I knew I'd find you somewhere up here," hearing the voice of Seojun as he came to sit down next to her, Selina doesn't answer. "No shiny pieces today?" He asks. He enjoyed finding her alone without the Batman around. It gave him more of a chance to talk freely with her.

"He doesn't like it when I steal..." She mutters, only making the detective quirk a brow in questioning.

"He? As in Batman?" Seojun asks. "I thought you were single?"

Staring at a car driving on the street, she freezes as she doesn't want anyone to know that she was married to both Batman and Daniel, who were the same person.

"I am..." She answers calmly with a smile. "He may not like it, but I love the thrill of him chasing me."

"What if I chased you?"

With a mischievous grin, she takes his chin between her fingers and leans in to where there was only a bit of distance between them. "Oh darling, you wouldn't be able to catch up to me~" She purrs, making the detective blush at her flirting.

"I think I can," Seojun says as Selina lets go of him and gets up. "I may not be the Bat, but I think I can give you that thrill."

Looking him over as she walked backwards to the edge of the rooftop, Selina smiles from behind her goggles. "Just don't go dressing up as Daredevil again or the Bat. I don't think he'll like to know that a detective is using a costume to be like him."

#catwoman.esme ✿

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riddle-me-ri · 2 years ago

Note

Hello!! :D Hope your day has gone well!!

What are your thoughts on various Mad Hatters? Which one is your current favorite??

(Also could you recommend a Jervis comic mayhaps?? Been wanting to try read Batman Rogue comics ^^)

💤

Asdfghh where how where how...where do I begin with the mad lads asdfghh I'll give a tiny explanation as to why I love the versions I write for, that's a decent place to start lol. So, sorry not sorry you've opened the floodgates lmao, because of that there's a read more tab, sorry if you weren't quite expecting this lengthy response.

Arkhamverse Jervis: Definitely one of my favorite voices for him by far (Roddy for BTAS/TNBA is still a huge favorite). Also, his voice tapes with Strange in City absolutely twist my heart every time (not to mention the end of his mission when you go back to see him. He only wanted a friend hng), I think they could've done a lot with him, his short mission in City left much to be desired. The Wonderland hallucination in Origins and the storybook from Knight where amazing. While the writing is a wee topsy turvy, I do adore how they showed progression to his unyielding mental state (via, rhyming, literally Batman or anyone being Alice, and any word associated with Wonderland must be a part of it in Knight). And in City hinted at just how unnerved Jervis can be about himself and how he feels when he's lucid. I definitely get inspired by a lot of his character beats and traumas for sure (in my writing btw lmao)

BTAS Jervis: Ahaha the golden mad lad, my first Hatter encounter! I've always been a fan of Alice in Wonderland when I was watching BTAS (wanting to know what the hype was about as an animation student) so when I saw an episode called Mad as a Hatter I was intrigued lmao. I had no idea Jervis even existed and what a super strong intro episode too. Again Roddy is probably my favorite voice for him. Just...it's so warm and pleasant to listen to. I also appreciate that they didn't make this Hatter a one-trick pony? Nowadays a lot of DC writers sorta stick to the kidnapping/murdering women thing but BTAS Jervis literally tried to stop Batman before Batman could even do anything, so he can get Batman out of the way, he stole from Gotham's elite so he can run away on an island of his own? Also probably one of the more mentally stable of the Hatters and definitely the most romantic.

TNBA Jervis: Aww Ratter, sweet mad lad. I love rodents so the fact that the fandom has dubbed this version ratter and for the right reasons makes me so incredibly giddy. He's supposed to technically be BTAS just a different design, and as jarring as the changes may be, I think it still works, and again we see different motivations of Jervis other than him finding an Alice.

Secret Six (2006) Jervis: Hehehehe definitely one of my favorite Jervi. I absolutely love this mad, brilliant, druggy, powerful, silly nudist. This version is a prime example of just how powerful Jervis can be and why he should be depicted more as a threat (I have a thought that most of the time, Jervis leans more into his whimsy/playful attributes as a way to catch enemies off-guard, that's not to say he isn't that way in general, but I can see him using it to his utmost advantage). Also just wanna point out that this version was written by a woman, Gail Simone, who has canonically pinned Jervis to having amazing rizz and not to mention fangirls/fanboys that wanna marry him (and has an incredible "head" game) and I will forever love her for that.

Joker's Asylum Jervis: Aww, ohh, dear sweet mad lad, gotta grab tissues for this guy. One of the stronger of the Mad Hatter-centric comics. This comic delves into Jervis' psyche which a lot of DC writers almost refuse to even look at or consider (like...guys, I can do it...if I can do it I KNOW you can too). This comic shows what the Arkham games hint at, and that's that Jervis has/feels REMORSE. Probably one of the few rogues that do, he genuinely can't help it. He wants to get better, he wants to not be a threat. He wants companionship but fails miserably every time and the cycle continues. When I read this comic, it wouldn't leave my head for days. It is definitely what inspired my fic Love and Suds because my story is somewhat of an "what if" scenario like what if he did have someone there when he was spiraling and trying to fight off the delusions and madness.

Gotham Jervis: asdfgjkjj it...it took some time for me to like this one lmao. I have grievances across the board with Gotham as a whole. What they did to Jervis is no exception to that, he's interesting that he's a pure hypnotist and how apparently there are rules to that. It's one of the first (if not the only time?) Jervis isn't a scientist, but purely a hypnotist (before becoming a hypnotist criminal, it happens). I won't go too deep into him, esp. if you haven't seen this version but yeah just...he has potential he really does, he's just another example of a Jervis done dirty (and not the fun way)

Harley Quinn The Animated Series Jervis: red-head jervis, red-head jervis, red-head jervis my beloved. I love Jervis with red hair almost as much as blonde (and that's just personal preference cause I'm blonde lmao) From an artist stand point, his design is just really, really appealing to me. The bright complimenting colors, the wild spiky hair, the teeth, and the coke fingernail was a neat added detail (a buddy for S6 for sure). He was so criminally underused I will never forgive the show for what they did (him and other rogues as well). He's also very giddy, fun, but also still demented and violent.

To say the least...I can't choose just one current solidary favorite, I have grown to love them all in various ways, from their design to their personalities and voices. But my top three will definitely have to be; BTAS, Arkhamverse, and Secret Six. Joker's Asylum is also a super super close fourth. When I write for my "general" Hatter, I usually borrow traits, traumas, and mannerisms from these four.

As for comics I would recommend, here's a couple Jervis-centric ones to get you started. Also be weary and make sure you have an ad-blocker just in case. You shouldn't have to know too much backstory from other comics to understand them.

Secret Six (2006) Issue #1

Joker's Asylum: Mad Hatter

Sorry this got so long lmao, but thank you for letting me infodump and fixate on the Mad Lads, I've been having a rough time lately, and this has definitely lifted my spirits thinking about these guys lol.

#ri rambles #ri answers #sleepy anon 💤#high key wanna nickname you dormy lol #what are your thoughts ask meme #long post is long #I'm so sorry #but also I couldn't help it lol #I hope y'all don't mind

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anonover · 2 years ago

Note

For the ask game! 31 and 37!! 😄

hehe! i shan't shut up now :) 31. Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?

Ohohohohoho, I am a firm believer that canon is my sandbox that I am free to play with however I wish! I will twist canon in my hands like silly putty >;3c Personally, I will incorporate things from canon if I think they're cool or under-rated and I go out of my way to read source materials and nonfiction just to make my writing more grounded. Currently reading the War Games just to know *how* to change it for a fic (mutter mutter why do i do this to myself...) So yeah! I love a good canon compliant fic once in a while but I most often kick it straight to the curb :)

37. Talk about your current wips.

-Questionable Decisions: this is a short little oneshot that ive plotted out about JayTim, proposals and accidental baby acquisition. I have like 12 scenes for that and no idea what the wordcount will be. My main problem writing it currently is that the characters get drunk but I have minimal experience in that so I don't know how to write :( buts its okay there's always other stuff to work on -Triple Trouble side fics: I have side fics planned out for my series TT which is a TodoDeku ABO fic (with minimal ABO) and kids. ...I really like sudden child acquisition, okay? Anyways, I ended up finishing the "main" fic which is about Izuku's kids (3 of them hence the name lol) getting kidnapped form camp, Todoroki's agency is in charge of handling it and literally everyone goes like "uhhhh yo these kids more or less look like you or your siblings" and then yeah meetcute stuff where the main couple doesn't even *meet* each other until the last chapter. Very on brand for me lol. Anyyyyways I promised a few one-shots for the series consisting of: Christmas fic, Baby Shouto fic, TodoDeku first meeting fic, and Moving In fic. This was around Christmas time so I was going to do that first. I did /NOT/ end up actually writing them, though Christmas fic has a valiant start and will probably be a two-shot where they celebrate Christmas with Izuku's side of the family and New Years' with Shouto's side of the family. Hm. There is a surprising amount of worldbuilding for this series despite it only being 17k... -Reflection: this is Harry Potter grows up in Gotham fic! with minimal influence on the bats! this one is written... in an unusual style for me and I've been working for this one for about a year or so? its currently only 6k but its a little past the trolls scene and I want to finish 1st year before I post it. the one song that encapsulates this fic is Eight by Sleeping At Last. anyways here's a snippet :) ---

hari potter grows up in gotham.

it changes nothing. (it changes everything.) ---

hari potter smiles shyly under the floating candles. his green eyes seem luminescent with the reflection of golden lights. his skin seems bronze, a picture perfect storybook hero cast from metal. these people desperately want a hero. a savior is all they see.

hari potter is a reflection. he adapts. he takes your expectations, your sterotypes and shows what you want to see.

after all, hari potter may be the boy-who-lived but he was a gothamite before that. ---

hari potter is swept under the inviting wing of gryffindor and why shouldn't he? he's a carbon copy of his father, after all. from his bird's nest hair, to his round glasses, to the way his nose slopes downwards.

hari potter is brave. he's saved all of britain from you-know-who! what else can he be other than a gryffindor? who else could face the greatest dark lord of their age! there are books about his death-defying stunts as a five year-old facing down a dracula, a novel about him destroying a cursed catacomb, a memoir about the adventures he's had. hari potter is brave.

(hari potter is brave. hari potter lived in gotham city. he's seen monsters come out of the sewers and has been mugged with a gun pressed to his temple. he remembers when the clown hid a bomb in the street over. he remembers seeing the cloud of dust flying outward, the slow collapse of the building. he remembers running, running so hard, hoping so hard to the edge of that rubble. pleasepleaseplease don't let him die. dig with bloody fingers and wiggle into tight crevasses. looking for a person, his very best friend majid. he remembers a firefighter dragging him away. five hours later, majid is carried out broken and blue. three days later, he attends the funeral. hari potter is brave.

hari potter is more than a cold halloween night.)

---

last but not least, Keystone: this is currently my largest and longest running fic and I literally posted the first chapter on a whim and a random person commented and encouraged so now here we are 10 chapters later. basic plot is Harry sends a letter to adult!Tim Drake because he really doesn't want to live with the Dursleys anymore, Tim essentially plans out a convoluted, multi step plan that has Jason pick up Harry from a train station to take him to a safe place (features: the Jewelry Protection Squad! cool gay vampire professors! Jason killing werewolves! and more!) Btw, the fic is currently on ch10 and the last 7 chapters have literally spanned the events of two days. I need help... anyways! I am currently writing a scene where Harry + Jason discuss with the Goblins about the Potter estate, land ownership and I get to hint at a larger but oppressed wizarding world! World building! From there, we might or might not get to the bunker where it'll be peace for Jason+Harry while they wait for the jewelry Protection Squad to do its thing. While that's happening, I'll be writing about what's going on Gotham and why Tim didn't just have Harry come over to Gotham. I am also currently reading War Games (and prbly No Man's Land later on) just to figure out how I can move around Keystone's Batclan characters and what might have changed and what stayed the same.

aaaand yah that's about it! thanks for asking! i really enjoyed talking about these :D

#kali speaks #keystone #reflection #triple trouble #questionable decisions #my writing

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cherysims · 6 years ago

Photo

‘‘ Even if it takes all night or a hundred years, need a place to hide, but I can't find one near ’’

#Harley quinn #harlivy #poison ivy #catwoman #storybook #the sims #harley quinn the sims #dc comics #gotham city sirens #harley #quinn #sirens #story #fanart #simblr #screenshot #ts4

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allzelemonz · 2 years ago

Text

Gaslight Hatter: Jervis Tetch X Gender Neutral Reader

Prompt: 12 Days of AU, Historic Pronouns: None Mentioned *Reader is a cop and the first female cop in America would have just joined the force around this time so there’s no room for pronoun plot holes, use what you want Physical Sex: None Mentioned Rating: T/Violence Warnings: Mentions of murder/serial murder, based on the comic not the movie, reader is a cop but a cool one I guess, Reader referred to as an Alice by Hatter, I hope you’ve read the book Summary: 1890s Gotham is facing a new threat after the demise of Jack the Ripper. A madman dressed as the beloved Hatter from a popular storybook who has a pension for playing dress up with the young adults of the city. As an officer working under Inspector Gordon, it’s your job to protect the people.

With rumors of a giant bat taking down Jack the Ripper crime in Gotham has been down. Playful characters like the Joker and more scary ones like Double Man have all been quiet. However, working with Inspector Gordon has made it clear that there will always be something unexpected. Rumors have been circulating that the Inspector is working with the Batman, but no one seems intent on acting on it with all of the threats that could come up. Particularly the newest one, a man dressed as a book character.

The Inspector introduced him as The Hatter, a man emulating the character of the same name from Alice's Adventures in Wonderland and its sequel materials. The books had been published only a few decades ago and most people now have a deep love for them, but this man is clearly obsessed. He has kidnapped and murdered several blond citizens from the streets and dressed them up as the little girl Alice and other characters like the White Rabbit. Most of his victims have been young, around your age, those that would have grown up with the book read to them at bedtime.

His last victim was left by the docks, a young man with longer than average blond hair adorned with a blue bow and dressed in a yellow suit. As he was a grown up male Alice. Before that it was a man dressed in a waistcoat with hair burned and fried into white. Before that it was a young woman dressed as the Cheshire Cat. Every last one of them disappeared one night and reappeared a week later with an immaculately detailed costume. All of them seen as a failure on the part of Gotham’s police and its notorious Inspector Gordon.

So he assigns patrols to be doubled and warns against lawmen going after the Bat. Your patrol with your partner is one of many, a short shift in a poor part of town during the dead of night. He is nervous, evident by his fiddling with his belt buckle and the consistent glances over his shoulder.

“We’ll never find him if you keep doing that.” You mutter.

‘Then I will continue, I have no intention of running into that madman.”

“It’s our job.”

He looks at you like you’re crazy. “Our job is stopping muggers, not hysteric villains.”

A sound of a trash can hitting the ground makes your partner nearly jump out of his skin. His knuckles turn white as he grips his billy club and faces the alleyway that the noise came from. You hold an arm in front of him to calm him down. When you turn your head you see the figure that has him so spooked and draw your club as well, but the firearm on your other hip is tempting.

The figure disappears as it steps backwards into the shadows. Your partner pushes past you and runs down the alley, a sudden burst of bravery apparently taking over him. You follow, against your better judgment, but you can’t leave your partner chasing after shadows. They outpace you just enough to lose you around a corner and it forces you to make a guess as to which way they ran. By the time you catch up with them you find the Hatter standing above your unconscious partner.

He does look like the Hatter from the story in what he wears, but his stature is much different. He’s a handsome looking man with greasy hair hidden under his tall hat, a man you might mistake for a common beggar on the street. He holds a watch in his hand and sways it back and forth with a sneer on his face. It is only now that you recall the features of your partner, young and blond, a perfect Alice.

“No need for an extra Alice, deer. Run along, get out of here.”

“You’re under arrest.”

He chuckles. “No, no, no, I can’t. I have a show.”

He raises his hands above his head and widens his eyes. The sparkle in them could be wonder or craze. And his words, he rhymes.

“Let him go, get to your show.”

“There is no show without Alice!” He snaps, forgetting his rhyme. “I want him, I need him. I need an Alice” He whispers just loud enough for you to hear.

“Take me.” You offer.

He chuckles again. “You are no Alice! You are too mean to be Alice.”

“I’m sorry, let’s talk over tea.”

The offer tempts him, he looks at his watch and smiles. His eyes meet yours as soon as he looks away from the watch. “Your hair wants cutting.”

The look on his face seems to hint at something. A line. It’s a line from the book. It has to be. A story you’d heard many times, but the line is so specific it’s hard to find. You knit your eyebrows, mentally searching for it.

“You should learn not to make personal remarks.” You say once you land on it.

The Hatter smiles and looks at you expectantly. There’s more for you to say. You go through the scene in your head, thinking hard.

“It's very rude.” You finish, half questioning the sentence.

“Good! Very good!” He claps his hands in excitement. “You are Alice.”

“I am, Hatter. Now, please, let’s go.”

Your hand is held out to him and he smiles as he runs to you to take it. He’s giddy with excitement as he looks at you. An Alice, the Alice he’d been looking for. Better than the others and much more fun than any White Rabbit.

“We’ll have fun, won’t we, Alice?”

A grin spreads across his face and his grip on your hand tightens. You don’t notice until it’s too late, the watch in front of your eyes swaying back and forth. Your vision goes blurry, then dark. The Hatter picks you up and hoists you over his shoulder, leaving the other Alice behind.

#mad hatter #mad hatter x reader #mad hatter x gender neutral reader #mad hatter x male reader #jervis tetch #jervis tetch x reader #jervis tetch x gender neutral reader #jervis tetch x male reader #gotham x reader #gotham #gotham by gaslight #gotham by gaslight x reader #jarvis tetch #jarvis tetch x reader #jarvis tetch x gender neutral reader #au #12 days of au #historical au

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