#nobody outside of gotham thinks batman fucks

[mellowdiplomattrashpsychic]

It's funny with all the sudden parents and all, but think about how Danny being Calico is an open secret. It has so much potential.

Like- everyone knows. They dont say, nobody arrests him, but everyone knows and he knows that they know. It a Gotham secret.

And its just- imagine that it helps cover up the bats' identities? Because Bruce adopted WAY too many by now for people to not make any connections.

I bet the only thing holding them off is bad picture quality, stress of surviving everyday, simply not caring, and/or fanfiction. You can't tell me that people haven't shipped Bruce/Batman. You know how hard-core fans could be.

But now? Now it's "more concrete" that Bruce isn't Batman and the kids aren't the other vigilantes. After all, why would Batman keep a rogue as a child?

It's a stupid thing to think about considering Red Hood is still around and Robin (Damian) has a sword. But really, imagine it?

And its hilarious because people are actively cheering on the chaos gremlin. This is what they want! Sure, Bruce does great things with his charities, mass donations, and the WE stuff going (the last one they think is credited more on Tim and Damian though).

But it's not enough. Legal stuff is slow. Inventing and innovating things is difficult. The whole system is corrupt for fucks sake! It takes a hell of a lot more time to get shit done. I mean- look at the parks and plants around! Barely any, and Poison Ivy was out there killing because of all that pollution and plant killing!

Red Hood was making a difference. Sure, it was still dangerous in Crime Alley, but there was a huge difference from back then. It even impacted outside territories, too. So he didn't only help Crime Alley, but Gotham in general with the whole killing thing.

They needed more anti-heroes that made that large-scale change. And that's what Danny provided as Calico.

Also, the original post had "daylight vigilante turned dark" in it. Phantom is an obvious choice to think about but... but what if he wasn't?

Think about it. What other name could he have that he could commit to the bit to?

I just think it would be funny if he had another name. Not related to bats, birds, or (now) cats, but something like Signal in a way. Definitely a change of wardrobe. Probably uses the Phantom alias for big problems (alien invasions, Darkseid, big world catastrophe shit, ghost or magic stuff)

What if he did deal with magic? He's slowly getting rid of the curses in Gotham which is easier in the day since light weakens them (maybe).

That got off track, but yeah, imagine the drama he could cook up with not 1, not 2, not 3-

With 3 aliases!

(Familiar to anyone? Sorry, had to do it)

Just, just about the chaos he could brew. Duplication isn't that hard now that he has time to practice with decent enough sleep ;)

"And? What did you decide on?" Duke asks, fork slipping from his mouth and chewing, focused on Danny.

The boy in question hums. "Oh yeah, I'm totally joining in on the nightlife."

The statement has all of them stopping in their tracks, blatantly staring at the still eating boy.

"This will be my emo arc, daylight vigilante turned dark."

Tim snorts, Jason gives a smirk, nudging the eldest sibling next to him from his frozen state.

"Ooooh," Steph leans forward. "Have you decided? Bat or Bird?"

"New name?" Cass jumps in on the questioning with a small smile, eyes crinkling.

"Will you be joining us tonight then, danyal?" His twin speaks up for the first time during dinner, eyes narrowed and calculating.

"Yes." Is the short reply, with the way damian's lips turn down and displeasure makes itself clear, the intention of giving such a short answer has been met.

"Danny," Bruce gains the attention, leaning forward with his fingers interlocked and brows furrowed with what must be worry.

"Are you sure? I don't want you to feel pressured into this just because everyone else is—"

"I'm more than sure, B!"

The man sighs. "And I won't be able to stop you?"

"Mhm." He gives a nod.

"Okay," his shoulders sag in defeat. "Do you have everything then—?"

"Yep!"

"Even—"

"B, I'm pretty sure I got everything, you can, if in your opinion I am missing something, give it to me later!"

Danny grins, pushing himself up from the table and rounding around towards the door.

"Besides! My whole get up will be a suprise!! So stay awake folks because I'm gonna blow ya all away."

As he leaves, Steph and Duke make sounds of anticipation, curiosity eating at all of them.

(They dont know whats gonna hit 'em.)

"I'm betting 50 bucks that he's gonna be a bat."

Alfred shakes his head at the newfound excitement.

—

What an exciting night.

There is still no sight of their newest, despite oracle's teasing, having apparently already been included in the suprise.

"Well well well," a sly, yet teasing voice makes itself into the open. Catwoman, in all her glory, walks up to the group of bats and birds.

"If it isn't the bat, what's with the gloomy face?"

Batman gives her a nod. "Cat."

Her eyes roam the group and she tilts her head. "Everyone seems to be here tonight." She comments.

"We're waiting," the man shares. "Our newest decided to be more secretive about his debut."

Catwoman gives him a smug smirk. "So I have heard," a chuckle. "I've come here to introduce you to someone, truthfully."

"Oh? Who is it?" Nightwing perks up, having finally decided to join in.

"Me."

Some yelp, whip their head around and away from the lady in black, gasps and cooing (particularly from steph) fill the roof and Danny joins them.

He wears black combat boots, they're heavy just from the look, but make no sound as he jumps around. The front of the boots look like cat paws, they're reaching up to his knees.

Then comes the baggy black pants, knees protected by poleyn and his belt acting as a cats tail. The hoodie he is wearing is also black, with fingerless gloves (only the middle finger is covered) and reaching up to his neck.

Instead of a domino mask, he wears a hood with cat ears and a dark face mask. Cass claps, knowing fully well he took inspiration from her own get up.

The whole outfit is detailed with orange spots, some parts brown and others grayish.

"Meet my new mentee, Calico."

Danny, Calico, waves.

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Some random superheroes debating whether or not Batman fucks: I mean there's no way Batman fucks, right? Man definitely doesn't fuck

Dick, who walked in on Bruce and Harvey together back when he was first adopted: -_-

Jason, who definitely heard one too many of Talia's stories about Bruce: -_-

Tim, who heard him with Selina after Bruce forgot to turn off his coms once: -_-

Damian, who recently had sex ed and knows exactly where he came from: -_-

Cass, who reads body language perfectly and while has never caught him in the act, has def seen him looking around: -_-

Steph, who accidentally saw some lewd messages when she stole his phone for a prank: -_-

Duke, who found out exactly what Bruce's penthouse is for in an unfortunate accident: -_-

Barbara, who has caught Bruce in inappropriate positions on security cams way too many times: -_-

[feefivefoe]

Please can we hear your thoughts on what Bruce does/thinks when being confronted with his neglect by Jason (and maybe the other boys too)??

Thank you, and have a nice day!

Bruce is the one I have the hardest time characterizing tbh.

I think his first reaction would be denial? He hasn't been the best father, but even he wouldn't go as far as to forget his own chi...

Oh my god he doesn't know how old you are. You were...you were older than Tim but younger than Dick, he thinks.

Wait.

When was your birthday?

Did he ever give you a birthday party?

What wing of the manor did you sleep in?

Where were you right now?

Unlike Tim who starts the unofficial search, Bruce heads right to the batcave to find your official records. Social security number. If you worked anywhere or has anyplace legal to stay, you'd have to input that. He's ashamed he has to go through a government database to find it, rather than simply knowing it.

And just like Tim, he finds nothing. Which scares him beyond belief. Had he lost you already? Did he actually forget about one of his children and then unknowingly replace them? Was he actually guilty of what Jason had accused him of years ago, albeit to a different child?

In reality, you're living solely through cash. Plenty of individuals are eager to avoid paying all their taxes, and are thrilled to accept cash only payments on your rent, or paycheck. Legally, you haven't done anything since graduating high school.

Not necessarily hiding from them, per say, as you don't think they'd go looking, but just because you don't want to be known as a Wayne.

And god, there is so much guilt, fear, and anguish rolling around inside that man. He needs to find out where you are, and if you're okay, and if anybody had done anything to you.

He swears if they have, he'll rip the motherfucker to pieces-

No. That isn't going to help. So instead he checks every reported death within not only Gotham, but any city within a 50 mile radius. For the last 10 years.

As well hidden as you are, nobody can hide from Batman while he's concentrating every effort to find you.

He's hesitant to bring you home at first. How can he call himself your father after forgetting you for your whole time living with him? But his regard for your safety eventually wins out. Until then, you just get a concerning amount of money just...stashed in your apartment??? What the fuck??????

Dick also feels a lot of guilt, but he somewhat subconsciously channels that into abundant overeagerness. Instead of focusing on how many important moments he missed...that he can never get back with his first baby sibling...

...ah, he should focus on all the memories you can make going forward! He has to take you to all his favorite spots, and you take him to yours!

What interests do you have? Are you a go to the aquarium person? Family movie night? Spa night? Just having fun with everyone at dinner? He has to do these things with you! And then you'll be his family again, and he'll love you, and you'll love him-

In spirit, he shows up outside your door like Damian. But he is self aware enough to know that'd freak you out, so instead he 'coincidentally' shows up at your work...in the bad side of town...and his attitude definitely gives away it was planned.

He messes up your "I'm a nobody like all of you" persona you'd spent years cultivating, and by the time he leaves, all your coworkers and customers know that you're Dick Grayson's sibling...which means Bruce Wayne's child, but he likes saying you're related to him more.

Tim doesn't give a fuck at first, like I established. It really is a game to see if he can find you before anybody else does. When he loses that to Bruce (damn it-), he decides he'll just know you BETTER than the others to win.

So he starts literally stalking you and making a psyche profile, like you're a case rather than his sibling. Any interest you've ever listed in your social media is cross checked with any belongings of yours. Merch or posters? Songs you listen to? Any of that content, he consumes as well. He's going to need conversation topics with you.

I'm not entirely sure if he actually loves you as family, or if you're just a hyperfixation that's consistently buzzing at his brain. It's like he wants to dissect, then digest you. Pick you apart piece by piece so he sees every last skin cell, then make that information a part of him

Though, he'd claim it's the former. To him, there's no discernable difference.

He's the one who meets you at your hobbies. Claims an online friend brought it up, but hey, it's crazy to see you again!

Even though it's your first conversation...maybe ever?

He's chatting to you like you haven't been estranged your whole life.

And the look in the eye is...a little unnerving.

[yandere--stuck]

If you're still taking requests, would you be able to do something again with Arkhamverse Joker?? (Or even Scarecrow, ANYTHING with that skinny lil horror boy please) I love ALL of your Batman work.

Just give me anything, I'm starving for some dark and creepy batvillians.

“Alright, sweetheart, just tell me who did it,” The Joker cooed from behind you, his hands resting at the plush blanket wrapped around your shoulders.

Both you and The Clown stood in front of the maw of the Sionis Steel Mill. You hadn't been outside in so long. The thought of making a run for it flitted through your mind, but you just as quickly discarded it. Joker was holding you pretty tight, but even if you broke free from his grip, presented before you was a line of Joker's men desperate to do anything to gain their boss's favor. And even if you made it through all that, you were smack dab in the middle of Arkham City. If the elements or starvation didn't get to you first, it'd be the other inmates - especially if they had gotten any inkling you might be precious to The Clown Prince of Crime.

Somehow, beyond all odds, you were the most safe in the arms of Gotham's most dangerous criminal.

Even with the multiple layers covering you, the wind cut through you like a blade. You'd been dressed in specially made pajamas the Joker commissioned, layers of winter clothing, and a large blanket he'd wrapped you up in before escorting you outside. And it made looking upon Joker's gang all the more uncomfortable. 

Compared to you, Joker's men wore precious little. Tank tops or sleeveless hoodies, some wearing no top at all, old worn pants, and their very own clown masks. You couldn't see their eyes, but you imagined that behind their masks, they glowered at you. Why wouldn't they hate you? After all, you were why they were freezing out here. Their boss had given them orders to never, under any circumstances, allow any harm to be brought unto you.

And then, Joker found the bruises.

“I don't want to get anyone in trouble,” You insisted, craving your neck to attempt eye contact with The Joker.

“Nobody's in trouble,” The Clown nuzzled you, voice almost a purr. “I just want to know who did it.”

You bit your lip. Something burned and swirled like a whirlpool in your stomach, rising to your chest. “It was my fault. I bumped into something.”

“Darling, it's okay. I'm not mad. Just point ‘em out for me.”

Your lips quivered and you screed your eyes shut. Burying your face in your hands, your whole body shook. You couldn't do this. You didn't want to. Sure, the guy roughed you up, but at least he didn't fucking kill you. And maybe whoever did it was a criminal at best or monster at worst, but you didn't want someone to die at the hands of The Joker because of you. You weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be in Gotham proper, living your ordinary life and not in Joker's base. You weren't supposed to be the object of Joker's obsession. You shouldn't have had to be transported around by goons, goons who were already frustrated and pissed as it was, and only exacerbated by their boss’ obsession with you and threatening them if he even thinks they're looking at you.

God, why was this happening to you? You just want to go home! You couldn't even scream, couldn't even cry, not now, not like this-

One hand released its grip on your shoulder to press against your back and brush soothing circles against you.

“Honey, baby, sweetie-darling, there's no reason to be upset!” Joker hushed. “You're not in any trouble. I'm not mad. I just want to know."

Still shaking, you dared to turn and meet the Clown's gaze. Puffing out a cloudy mist in the icy cold air, you ventured, “You promise you're not angry?”

The Joker beamed, holding up a hand. “Scout's honor!”

The both of you stared at each other for a long moment. His pupils were dilated, acidic green eyes nearly swallowed up by his dilated pupils. He stared back at you with utter adoration. 

Really, him being angry would have been less terrifying.

With a shaky exhale, you nodded. Ripping your eyes from him, you surveyed the crowd. The man in question wasn't hard to find. You knew the mask well. Lime green hair, a red clown nose, red, painted-on cuts and marks across the mask.

He was one of the henchmen ordered to transport you from one part of the base to another. You'd been terrified, shaking, near hyperventilating, and scared stiff to the spot. And he had grabbed you tight enough to bruise and shoved you through the halls, the other goons following behind. Just remembering it lit a spark of fear and anger in your gut. And even still, you hesitated to call him out.

Shivering, you slowly raised a finger to point at him, your digit like a death mark.

“Him,” you breathed out.

“Him?” Joker asked, pointing at the same man.

You nodded. You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes closed as The Joker waved him over.

The masked man approached both of you. You couldn't help but lean further into Joker. You tried to convince yourself it was the cold. He stopped a few feet away, but Joker motioned him even closer, until he was almost right on top of you both.

“This true, Bud?” Joker asked.

The masked man held his tongue for a moment. His whole body seemed tense. And if you had to guess, he was likely glaring daggers at you from behind the mask. And then finally, a soft sigh escaped him, body relaxing as he nodded. 

“Yeah, boss,” he admitted. “It was me.”

“And do you have anything to say to my darling here?”

Your breath caught in your throat as the goon turned directly toward you. You tried to keep totally still. Don't flinch. Don't show fear. You could feel his gaze burn into you. And Joker's grip tightened on your shoulder. Maybe reassuringly. Maybe possessively. 

The masked goon paused, simply staring at you, before he gave a lazy nod. “Yeah. ‘M sorry.”

Huh. That wasn't so bad. Turning to look at Joker you saw him nodding. A relieved smile began to bloom onto your face as you turned back to-

The sound of unfolding metal hit your ears. A gloved hand stretched out and yanking through hair. The stumbling forward of a body and. Your eyes widened as Joker grunted, pocket knife sinking into the man's throat.

He held it there for a moment, looking deep into the eyes of the man behind the mask, before wrenching the knife out. Blood spurted from the man’s neck as he gurgle, clutching his throat. Again, Joker struck, plunging deep into the man's neck and ripping it out. Again. Again. Again. And all you could do was watch, eyes the size of dinner plates and mouth agape in horror.

You finally found the ability to move your body again, and you hunkered down, hiding your eyes with your hands and stumbling back as Joker continued his assault. You shivered and shuddered, beginning to cry. You couldn't see it anymore, but you could hear the sounds of the blade meeting flesh, the desperate and violent gurgles of someone drowning in their own blood, the quick and sharp grunts of Joker as he plunged his knife in and out in and out in and out in and out-

You couldn't tell how long it went on, only that at some point, you couldn't hear anything else besides Joker's shaky breathing and the harsh whistling of the wind. Your hands and cheeks stung from cold and tears.

When you dared to uncover your eyes, The Joker was looking back at you. As if he was waiting for you to see - to see your attacker's head barely connected to his neck, near decapitated. The moment he saw the recognition in your eyes, the man's body was dropped like it was nothing.

"But, but," You stuttered, mouth trying to catch up with your mind. "You said, you said you weren't mad?'

"Not at you, darling," he smiled adoringly. "Never at you."

The Joker pocketed his bloody knife and clapped his hands free, addressing his men. “Now, let that be a lesson for all of you,” the clown leaned over to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You quickly cuddled into his hold (but only because of the cold. Only that and nothing more). Joker finished with a grin, “anyone who hurts my darling gets the same.”

Breathing heavily, your eyes surveyed the reactions of the henchmen. For some reason, you felt torn on how you felt about them. Pitied Joker's treatment of them, but was highly aware of their perspective of you being an obstacle, inconvenience, or even enemy-

You nearly jumped as Joker brought you out of thoughts by a kiss to the cheek. You were quickly turned around, The Joker guiding you inside and nuzzling against your cheek.

“You must be so stressed out, dear! C’mon, let's get warmed up inside and watch some cartoons!"

And when you're both inside, curled up together in a mound of blankets and cartoons playing on the screen, you tried to convince yourself tje obly reason you held him back was out of fear and to keep out the cold.

[sssailorvanya]

for once in my life, let me get what i want. [battinson]

please ignore my shit tenses | wc: 780(?)

You’ve never been one to ask for more beyond what you’re given. Your feet are always impossibly cold and your smile is missing from your face these days. Winter’s hard enough as it is. You didn’t know how to feel about the mysterious man dressed up as a bat, running around at night to fight crime.

You’ve heard what this mysterious vigilante does to the rogue criminals he catches. You’ve even witnessed his brutality a few times, thankfully never aimed at you. He saved you once. You were walking home, with your cold feet and blank expression, and a group of men had jumped out of a nearby alley. You had thought, ‘oh fuck, here we go again,’ and prepared to hand over your meagre possessions. You had not anticipated the fearsome vigilante materialising out of nowhere, throttling the living daylights out of all the men until they cowered in fear. You had watched, dumbfounded, as he picked up your small, bright pink purse and handed it to you.

You almost wanted him to keep it, if only for the comical juxtaposition.

So, no, you don’t know how to feel about him. Gratitude is a motivating factor but, nowadays, you barely feel anything at all. You certainly don’t feel anything when he takes your cold hand the second time you meet (another mugging foiled) and awkwardly massages it.

“For the circulation,” He growls softly.

You hum and let him massage your hand.

The citizens of Gotham call him “the Batman”, or simply “the Bat”. Sometimes they’ll call him “Vengeance” with a capital V, but nobody answers when you ask why.

You’re not native to Gotham, but you’re not from a city which was its polar opposite either. The gloomy weather and gothic architecture is a welcome reminder of the home you unwillingly left behind.

The third time you meet him, you feel braver than before. “You ever heard of the PJ Masks?” You ask softly, watching as he delivers a harsh blow to an unconscious thug (muggings are very common in Gotham, especially when they can sense that you’re not from here). He glances back at you, his lips pursed and his eyes smeared with dark eyeliner. You wish you could take off the cowl and see his full expression.

“I haven’t,” He says softly. His voice is jarring to listen to. You can tell he’s a man of few words so whenever he speaks, you are enthralled. You don’t know why. What sort of lunatic would be fascinated by a bat vigilante?

Lunatics like you.

“It’s a good show. Reminds me of you,” You say. Your lips don’t curl up in a smile but it’s a near thing. Your feet feel warmer today.

He’s a man who talks little, but he humours you anyway. “Must be good then.” You think you imagine the minute twitch of his lips as he turns away, his fearsome cape dripping with droplets of rain and blood. You watch him go.

Your hands are still cold.

The fourth time you encounter him makes you feel as if he’s started to keep tabs on you specifically. There’s no reason for the fearsome Bat to be lurking outside the 7/11 closest to your little apartment at 2am, but he is there. There’s no thievery to put an end to and no criminals for him to terrify. There is just you and the bright lights of the 7/11 and the jalapeños-and-cheese baked concoction in your hands. Your eyes are glimmering in the artificial light as you break off a piece.

You offer it to him, a small smile playing on your lips. He takes it from you slowly, as if he’s afraid he’ll hurt you. Your feet are cosy and warm tonight. He doesn’t smile back but he does stand next to you all night. Gotham is quiet tonight. It’s a blessing in disguise for you both.

The last time you meet him, you are hurting all over. There is blood sliding down your face and your vision is blurred, but you know it’s him when someone takes your hand. He rubs your hand soothingly.

“For the… circulation… right?” You croak out. It’s hard to talk with chapped lips and broken teeth.

He doesn’t respond. His grip on your hand tightens.

Some upcoming villain in Gotham decided to launch a nefarious attack in the city centre. You were caught in the crossfire, as were many other civilians. But it’s you whom he chooses to comfort, and it’s you whom he clings onto as you fade away.

Your hand goes limp in his grasp. It’s cold.

But there’s a smile on your face and your feet are warm.

[fullhavelstonearmor]

Am I sleep deprived? Yes. But, imagine the following.

Batman is away with the Justice League. He’s saving the planet from Brainiac or some shit.

Bane is in Gotham. Plotting. Scheming. Thinking about crime, but most importantly, Batman.

You thought joker was fucking obsessed? Wait until you see bane’s bedroom. Dartboards with the batfam. Various articles of clothing he’s torn from their suits. Where they go to school. Everything. He even has the fucking x-ray scans from Batman’s broken back. He knows Batman’s identity, and everyone else’s too. He says nothing, because Batman is HIS to break, and nobody else’s.

Bane comes up with a plan. A great plan. He’s a little cuckoo off venom, but it’s perfect. He’ll do something heinous, Batman will come, and he’ll break his back again. He’ll get that feeling from breaking the bat again.

So he does something ridiculous. Robs a bank or something. He isn’t stopped by Batman though. It’s Nightwing. He remembers beating Batman when Dick was a boy. He remembers Dick beating him for the first time. He turns on the venom.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t see the broken body of a teen, and he’s got several bruises. (Yes, he forgot Nightwing is a grown ass man now. Venom, dude.) He’s also in an entirely different part of Gotham. He can infer that he lost. It doesn’t matter. Batman didn’t arrive for Bane, so that means Batman isn’t here. Now how could Bane get to Batman when he comes back?

Obviously he could beat up Alfred, or graffiti crime alley, or something minuscule that just warrants him an extra hard beating when Batman finds out. So what if… he hurt the entire Batfam for something they couldn’t beat him for? What if he attacked their pride, and not their spines?

Commissioner Gordon, sits, and stares at the bat signal. He flicks it on. He always does this, every night, to see if Batman came back and, if he didn’t, give whatever info needed to Dick or Jason. Whoever lost the coin flip. He didn’t. He flicks it off, and just past where the beam of light had started, Bane is there. Or, he tried to get there. Do the ominous thing. He is more or less still climbing over the ledge of the roof. Bodybuilding doesn’t exactly make you an acrobat, okay?

Gordon, logical individual he is, draws his gun. Points it at Bane. Bane eventually crawls up and stands tall. There is a dumb little beak on Bane’s mask. He says that he is “The Hawk.” Gordon laughs at him. Bane says he wants whatever file he was going to give to the bat family member. Gordon thinks it’s stupid of him to make such a demand. So Bane mentions Barbara. That he knows her secret. Gordon knows it too, of course. He’s been in her bedroom, and she just sort of has an entire stand for her batgirl suit in the closet. Bane knowing this intimidates Gordon. Gordon shouts threats, and Bane calmly reinstates that he can be trusted. He’s never broken Batgirl’s spine. Gordon doesn’t know what Bane’s doing. He does, however, begrudgingly hand over a Joker case file.

Joker is plotting. Don’t get me wrong, he’s obsessing over Batman, but he’s thinking about how to get to him like Bane would had Nightwing not clocked him on the head a little too hard. He thinks he’ll kidnap little Damian and see how far the others will get to rescue him. He of course, doesn’t understand that kidnapping Damian isn’t easy, but you know, definition of insanity.

Outside though, a group of goons see Batman, but realize that it’s not Batman. For one, no bat ears. For two, he’s fucking jacked. Like, Batman is big but not 6’8” tall. And finally, he’s standing at the entrance, in plain sight. And soon, they breath a sigh of relief. It’s bane. Boss probably invited him for the plan. Bane steps out of the darkness. They laugh at him as he calls himself “The Hawk” and denies being Bane.

So Bane counts. He does things Batman wouldn’t. He breaks an arm. Eighteen muggings stopped. A leg. Five bank robberies prevented. A big ass kick in the nuts. A million potential child abuse victims gone forever.

Joker continues plotting and laughing, when Bane jumps through his skylight. Bane says he’s “The Hawk.” Joker laughs at him again. So Bane counts.

As he throws Joker’s crippled, still laughing body from his van and through a GCPD window, he thinks about how many lives he’s saved. Probably more than Batman will the first week of arriving back home. He laughs to himself. He LIKES being better than Batman at his own game.

When Batman returns, chaos ensues. He’s confused as all hell when Alfred tells him everything. It’s been a month, and Gothamite criminals felt a fear like they haven’t since Batman admittedly got a bit softer. He goes to congratulate Bane. Not in some spectacle, but in his gloomy way. For the first time in a while, he makes a mistake. When congratulating Bane, he looks away, exposing his back. So Bane counts.

Guys can you tell I love Bane?

[dickmedowndc]

Future Promises - Bart Allen x Bat!Reader

Word Count: 1,405

Summary: You could plan and follow through with a multi-month mission, undercover, while still coordinating with all your other team members. You had been in life and death situations more than you could count. You had once told Batman to go fuck himself in front of the League and not even flinched! And yet the idea of walking down that aisle the next day had your stomach dropping. You wanted to marry Bart; you were more than ready to do so. The idea had been to follow the tradition of separating and limiting communication of the soon-to-be newlyweds the night before. But tradition could choke for all you cared – you needed to call Bart before you ended up sick.

Notes: Requested by @ adoringnef (Wattpad). 

<< Part I <Part II

…★…

It had been a year and a half since Bart had proposed to you, maybe a longer, but he had been nothing but patient in the planning, or quick to cover something when it seemed to be going astray. Money had not been an issue this time – you would have swiped one of Bruce’s cards regardless, but the man had already agreed to pay for what you needed. Not to say the two of you were not funding parts on your own as well, but the extra money had been an aid in securing a more private venue outside of Gotham and Central. 

Otherwise, things had fallen into order easily – but it helped when you had strings to pull. 

That did not, however, stop the pit in your stomach from growing into a cavern as your anxieties worsened. You were ready to marry Bart Allen, there was no doubt about that in your mind. But you would be just as ready to drag him off and get eloped, because it was the thought of walking down that aisle, all the things that could go wrong so easily, that was what terrified you. 

A world ending event, tripping over your own feet on the stand, someone getting food poisoning at your wedding. 

Everything made worse by the fact that you did not have Bart next to you. 

The parties and the events leading up to the big day had been fun, but they had kept you busy, and less and less the pair of you had been able to be with one another. This proved especially true as you both zipped around your respective cities to try and clean up as many messes and ragged criminals that remained determined to ruin things for the two of you without even knowing. Either way, it had been never ending it seemed. 

Though Bart had shown it far less, you knew it was wearing on him as well. If he started spiraling you might too, so he was right alongside you, powering through the worst of it and taking his time with you where he could get it. 

Until tonight. 

The night before your wedding, while everything was done with for a few hours. Everything was as quiet as you could get it. But it felt like the silence was eating at your insides with the empty bedspace next to you. Those same anxieties that had started plaguing you days ago only grew louder with nobody but yourself to quiet them out. And as much as you loved your friends and team, there was one individual better than any other to help. 

Tradition be damned, you would see your fiancé. 

Rolling out of bed, you stumble across the room in the dark looking for where you had set your phone a bit further from yourself earlier in the evening. You find it when you bang your knee against the stand and the screen lights up. Using the phone screen’s light to guide you, you make your way back to the bed and under the covers, wrapped up in a duvet cocoon. 

It takes no time at all before you’re ringing Bart, his contact already in your favorites, right at the very top. 

It rings three times, and you’re beginning to think this is a bad idea, because your speedster needs his sleep for tomorrow as well. It doesn’t seem fair to try calling so late, but stopping now just means questions in the morning and possibly upsetting him when you don’t try – so it is too late now. 

On the fourth ring Bart picks up the phone with a groggy hello. “Baby bat?” 

You open your mouth but find you cannot will the words out the way you want to. Nothing but dead silence comes from your end, and you can hear shuffling, assuming Bart is beginning to properly wake up in response to your odd behavior. And they are odd, there are few times you’re at a true loss for words, so it has his attention now. 

The line goes dead for a moment, and you pull your phone back from your ear in surprise, looking at the ended call. Only for someone to take it from your hands a moment later as a gust of wind blows in after him. 

“You look tired, have you slept?” 

You rub your hand over your eyes, trying to knock the sleep from them as you shake your head and give a muttered no. 

“Come here,” he urges, slipping under the covers next to you and wrapping his arms tight around you. “Is it about the wedding?” 

You think for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain. “I’m ready to marry you. It’s just with everything that’s been going on I’ve barely seen you or had a moment to relax, just me or us. It’s just been a lot, you know?” Your hand goes up in the air as your frustrations bubble upwards. “And I just needed to see you. I hate sleeping without you next to me.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. I thought you wanted to do this part though? The whole night before thing.” 

“I thought so, and maybe if we had been able to see each other more before I would be fine? But this just fucking sucks right now.” You hiss the words out, letting your head fall onto his shoulder as you curl into him tightly. 

“Good, because I’m not a huge fan of it either.” he drags the both of you down as he flops onto the pillows, pulling the covers up snuggly around of your bodies. 

For a moment you readjust, stretching out but staying wrapped around him like velcro. “You’re not?” 

“No way – I'd rather be right here next to you too. I fell asleep eventually, I guess, but I kept waking up anyways. I wanted to text you, but I didn’t want to wake you up if you had already gone to sleep.” He kisses the top of your head where you are now tucked under his chin. Bart keeps his hold on you with just as much enthusiasm, keeping his arms wrapped securely around your waist. “They might freak out in the morning though; I know they were going to try to pour water on me before my alarm.” 

“Whose idea was that?” you mumble out, already finding sleep is beginning to come easy to you as your anxieties lessen. Bart’s voice is a lullaby, and he makes the perfect pillow as you listen to his heartbeat right under your ear. 

“I think it was a group brainstorm or something. Their loss, I get to wake up to you instead.” 

You can hear the grin in his voice when he next speaks. 

“Besides, I already set my alarm early so I would be ready for them.” 

“Let them panic for a little bit, they’ll check here next anyways.” you open your eyes for a moment to look up at him. “Probably, at least.” 

“You’re the only person that gets to prank me tomorrow. Like shoving cake in my face.” 

“I’m not shoving cake in your face, don’t worry.” 

“But you could, and I would be fine with that, just so you know.” 

You snort at his antics, but find your head is too heavy to shake at him and you won’t jeopardize your positions. “You just want cake in your mouth faster if you can get it.” 

“You’re not wrong, plus we have to share with everyone.” 

“We can get more cupcakes or something after the wedding if you still want them,” you promise, tapping at his chest lightly where your hand rests on him. 

Bart hums at that and you can feel his own heartbeat slowing, breath evening out. 

“Thank you for coming.” you whisper, receiving a squeeze in response that has you humming. 

“There is nowhere I’d rather be. Except maybe at our wedding alter when we wake up so I can kiss you.” 

“And I can finally start calling you my husband. I love you.” You say, yawning before tucking your face against him. He says something but the words are too fuzzy and you’re too tired surrounded by his warmth to stay awake any longer. Maybe you’ll get butterflies tomorrow, but that dread about something going wrong is gone, knowing Bart will be there right beside you if you need it.

[ao3sbatfamily]

Do you think you could help me find a fic? It’s an outsider POV from a worker at a craft store and how the bats show up a lot. I’ve looked everywhere and can’t find it

:D I found it!

'Only in Gotham: Craft Store Edition' by carolina_batboys

“Why is this location open at 2:30 in the morning?” Robin asked, squinting in confusion. Bowie almost had to laugh at how much he looked like a child, and how much the facial expression contradicted the sword at his side and the weapons most likely hidden all over him.

“Because if we’re not open 24/7, we’re going to get looted,” Bowie responded, gesturing to the city outside the shop’s doors. Robin followed her gaze and seemed to understand, but then looked back at her with his head tilted to the side.

“Why are you here?” He asked and Bowie snorted in response.

“Because I’m a broke Gotham U student and I need to pay my tuition somehow.” Unlike all the trust fund babies at GU. Especially Tim Drake. Her pet peeve was in all of her classes and didn’t even have to work to pay the tuition or to excel in class. Fuck Tim Drake.

“But if you are in school, then why are you working the night shifts?”

“Because there’s nobody else to.”

“When do you sleep?!” Robin exclaimed, looking incredulous. Bowie chuckled, deciding to avoid the question as she subtly slid her Red Bull out of his sight. 

“You do ask a lot of questions, don’t you?”.

[jokerfic]

Not you popping out of nowhere a year later with a new fic in a fandom I'm going to have to learn about so that I can read it

the way I'm literally so sorry it's not Dark Knight Joker (I've been putting in work on that fic too this year, I promise! it's sitting at 70 pages and if this frenzy of productivity lasts I hope to turn it towards that next, Ledger Joker is somehow always easier for me to write in the winter) but the heart wants what it wants when it wants it, and Jerome Valeska, who is a bigger flirt and a better boyfriend to an OC (somehow, despite the… atrocities) than TDK Joker is what this heart wants right now.

but since I've got you can I give you (and anyone else out of the know) my elevator pitch on Gotham FX right quick? There'll be some spoilers but only the kind of spoilers I think you need to hear to decide whether or not you want to watch this show, I prommy. THANKS

ok SO do you ever find yourself wondering when comic book properties got so BORING? do you ask yourself where all the color went? do you find yourself nodding along when your buddy complains that if comic book show writing is gonna be so shitty, it might as well also be fun? look no further than seasons 2-5 of Gotham I promise you will not regret watching seasons 2-5 of Gotham

(season 1 was when they were committed to trying to run it like a straight prequel where Batman and his entire Rogues gallery wouldn't exist for another 20 years, and they also thought they were making a gritty detective show about the GCPD, although nobody was allowed to say fuck and everyone both outside of canon and in it knew that the best place to "detect" criminals in Gotham was inside the GCPD itself, but fortunately they gave that up after one season and switched over to just doing a kidfic version of Batman with a slightly-younger-but-still-weirdly-adult-given-that-they're-beefing-with-a-12-year-old Rogues Gallery)

Gotham, once it hits its stride in season 2, thinks it's a comic book movie from the 90s. Gotham thinks it's a comic book run from the 90s, period. I think almost every major character dies and comes back to life at least once. It's in the same nebulous simultaneously modern and steampunky-old-fashioned time period as A Series of Unfortunate Events and they lean harder into the design with every season that passes. Nobody has any common sense and NOBODY talks like a person. Gotham features the wettest, cuntiest version of Oswald Cobblepot I've ever seen and at one point he gets fake haunted (? it's been a while, I'm not clear on that point anymore).

At some point they cast Cameron Monaghan as a character they named Jerome Valeska and they're like "Okay, Cam. You are playing a PROTO-JOKER. The real actual Joker isn't around yet and besides we don't have the rights to him, so be subtle, right? Play it cool. Just tasteful hints." And Cam went "10-4, heard you loud and clear, dw about a thing" and then proceded to blast everyone's nips off when he did what every actor to play the Joker after Heath Ledger has been desperate to do and THEN some-- not only did he play the spiritual successor to Ledger's Joker, but he played the spiritual successor to Nicholson's Joker, he played the spiritual successor to Hamill's Joker, he did his own thing, the shifting nature of the role meant he was able to be like 6 different Jokers at once and every single one of them fucks. Like, I legitimately 100% believe his performance on this not-quite-CW-Batman TV show made a big enough splash that it played a part in the DC execs looking at Jared Leto's Machine Gun Kelly-meets-Spirit Halloween Mallrat Joker cosplay and going "…I think I've had enough of this guy," thank God.

(They do introduce Jerome in Season 1, though, so you might have to watch the first season after all. sorry.)

Obviously Jerome is TO ME the heir to the Joker throne with no contest at all, not even a little bit, and besides him, the show is a blast and feels like what Batman felt like to me as a little kid-- like the 90s movies, like the animated series. Is it GOOD? I'm obviously too emotionally compromised to give you a solid answer. I suspect not, but if you're like me (and if you like my writing, then I think you probably are), you don't need good as much as fun and interesting, and Gotham is definitely that. It's streaming on Max, but if for SOME incomprehensible reason you don't want to watch one literal hundred 40-minute episodes of Riverdale-but-make-it-Batman, I am 100% amenable to uploading the 13 episodes that feature Jerome onto my google drive and posting the links here for anyone who wants them lmao. (If it's not obvious, it's the sort of show where you don't really have to watch everything to figure out what's going on-- it's a soap opera, you'll get the gist.)

ok that wasn't so much an elevator pitch as it was a stuck-on-the-bus-with-a-guy-who-won't-stop-trying-to-get-you-to-join-his-cult pitch but give it some thought anyway, ok? ok. love you bye

[clay-cuttlefish]

I'm finally done. 738 issues in mainline canon, and they're all sorted. My great burden is off my chest.

Except for the roughly 150 issues outside mainline canon, fiftysomething episodes of TV, handful of youtube videos and animated shorts, six movies, and two podcast seasons.

Then I'll be free.

Send help.

Batman: Urban Legends #14

This is, imo, the best take on conspiracy theorist Vic. He's goofy and overdramatic, but he's doing it to get a reaction out of Bruce.

It's short and silly enough that it doesn't get grating.

Choosing to believe that he found out Bruce's identity because Ollie forgot that he can't firstname Bruce in Checkmate meetings.

I Am Batman #11-14

It's really fucked up that Renee's both a cop and the Question, actually! That's not any better than her being a cop! I do not get why this story doesn't see that!

It keeps laying out the reasons that policing is fundamentally broken but then walking it back to go "oh but Renee's a good cop" when she's not! She's not even the mythical Good Cop! The entire reason she's the Question is because she was not a good person on the GCPD and she wasn't able to fix the system!

Renee using her understanding of how the police protect themselves to push back against them is a good idea, and then nope never mind the anarchists are the murderers actually. Cannot believe Lonnie died for this shit.

This handoff sucks so much. Vic and Renee got an entire series to explore what Renee and Hadiyah do in two pages, and while I actually quite like the idea that Hadiyah's a closely guarded enigma with connections to people she really shouldn't know, two pages? Really? The event tie-in is more important? Couldn't have spread this out even a little bit more? Also Renee's motivation sucks but what else is new.

GCPD: The Blue Wall

This wants to be Gotham Central. It's not.

I'm being unfair. There's worse copaganda on the list, and Gotham Central is absolutely copaganda that fails to meaningfully engage with a lot of these elements, but it just keeps circling back to Gotham Central while dodging that Renee knows how she handled policing making her a worse person: she quit, and she started looking for the truth.

Look I have a lot of very complicated feelings about this, but the commentary on a spreadsheet assembly readthrough is not the place to do it.

From a strictly Renee perspective: it hauls her development all the way back to where it was right after Half a Life, has a police officer who's realized he's a bastard working for a corrupt system go evil and kill her brother, and has her acknowledge the futility of reform from the inside but doesn't actually have her quit.

Batman: Urban Legends: #21

I don't know how the hell you can write a comic about Renee's guilt over the lives she ruined while a police officer and the way the police system makes people worse and prevents reform from the inside, then end it by having her decide to become the commissioner. The argument for why that doesn't work is on the page.

I Am Batman #15

What did Dark Crisis even do? I thought the multiverse was already back? If not, the fuck was going on in Lois Lane???

I Am Batman #16-18

NOBODY!!!

I really love Nobody as a name. Extremely in the spirit of the Question for her to see one opportunity for a quip and latch onto it forever.

Yes it makes talking about her prone to devolving into a shitty Who's on First bit but so does Question and I think that's funny.

I like that Hadiyah's out there doing her own mysterious Question-flavored thing. Sure, I wish Renee didn't push the mask onto her, but reinvention after rough origins is kind of the Question's thing. Maybe she'll turn it around, or fade into obscurity until a different author picks her up, or become a recurring side character, or DC'll implode again and she'll get caught in the canon reshuffle. Who knows! Nobody does!

She's got a cool design and a few solid hooks - I'm interested to see if she sticks the landing in the next couple years.

Lazarus Planet: Legends Reborn

I still don't like her being the Question and a cop, but it's less bad when she's using her Question skills to chase a horrifying magic apocalypse monster.

It's solid. Not a fantastic characterization, but this is recognizably Renee as the Question.

Detective Comics #1069

Ram V. Please. Make this pay off. I beg you.

Aside from Renee looking at her Question mask, there's a blonde guy in a blue suit jacket who punches a soldier and then gets his shit wrecked, so maybe that upcoming Tec Question story is actually about how Vic's full of demons.

Detective Comics #1072-1074

Nocturne is worth reading for its own sake, it fucking rules, and this is so promising. Cmon, Renee! You can do it! Get out of the character reversion black hole!

DC's Ghouls Just Wanna Have Fun

A good little Halloween-themed Question adventure. She solves a mystery, gets a cape, it's cute and charming. Sort of kiddy but in a good way.

I'd call the art adorable but I think that's the wrong impression. There are some very cute panels, but also some excellent detail work and a great sense of movement. I really like it.

I love that her internal monologue is marked with a hat.

You know what? Things are looking up. It's easy to get depressed about the state of Renee, but it's only actually been about two and a half years in the Bad Zone, and that's... not that bad by DC standards? Sucks to live through, but as far as I can tell there was only one author actively invested in regressing her characterization, everyone else was just going along with that. With Ram V writing for Tec, I'm not enough of a fool to be confident, but I think the odds are decent that the worst has passed.

[highlordofkrypton]

batman equalizer au // the knight from nowhere - chapter 4 - update

READ ON AO3.

SUMMARY: Bruce Wayne is dead. In the wake of his death, he leaves a trail of bodies and the ruins of a city. He can’t do this anymore; he can’t be a man who uses justice as an excuse for violence, so he leaves it all behind. Now, a nobody in a nowhere town, he starts to like his mundane life—no heroism, no villains and no pain—until one day, injustice finds him. Heroes aren’t real, but sometimes, all people need is a knight.

Chapter 4 - bad days

Not all days are good. Some weeks are shit.

The robbery lingers on his mind, rehearsed over and over to see if he missed anything. He left the cash, but made sure to return the bracelet and the hammer. He should’ve hidden his face, but he’s not anybody anymore, and the culprit won’t talk. In a place like Gotham, crimes are to be expected, along with the Dark Knight who avenges its people. Anywhere else? People don’t want to believe in ghosts, much less find out they’re real.

I have to break this fucking habit, he snarls to himself, staring out the window of the bus.

More often than not, his mind keeps slipping into the past—events that are now over, or even worse, a distant past of a life he cannot recognize anymore. He doesn’t even know the man he’s become, other than a fraud. The nagging feeling in his chest, is it longing? Not for his old name or his old fame, but for the violence. It felt good to wield righteousness, to make justice happen with his two hands.

Fuck.

Maybe he is addicted.

A low growl escapes his throat before he can help it, noting a familiar form waiting outside at the bus stop. Clark stupidly lets everyone on before him. The bus is already packed, so much that all Bruce can smell is the moisture of people and someone’s chips. The reporter jogs to the back door and slips in, right in front of Bruce. For a moment, Bruce wonders if he should try and sink behind the railing, but it’s too late. That damned smile is being flashed in his direction and the earphones are coming out.

He swore he wasn’t going to let anyone in. Not in this life. These are good people—hell, there are good people everywhere—and he gets good people killed. It’s all he’s good for.

“Bruce! Heading home?” Clark beams at him.

Well, it’s not like there’s anything Bruce can do.

“Yeah.”

“It’s pretty packed today.”

“Mhm.”

The lack of a response always deters Clark; it’s Bruce that’s a problem, feeling guilty for the nice neighbour who keeps trying despite the distance Bruce wedges between them. It wells up inside him, and he suppresses a soft sigh.

“Did you have a nice day at work?” 

And just like that, the giant stops his sad wilt to grin again. “Sure did!” That’s all it takes to get him chatting away about everything that’s happened. He asks Bruce questions in turn, and this time even if his responses are short and clipped, he knows that Bruce isn’t against conversation. Not entirely.

Listening grounds him, and it keeps him out of the past. Turns out, there is a bright side to being soft.

“Did you know in Ireland, there’s a fish school for seals?”

“What?”

Alright, there’s a chance Bruce tuned out a little because he has no idea how they got here, talking about seals in Ireland. 

“Baby seals that are abandoned often don’t get to learn how to eat solids, so the rescue centers have to teach them how to hunt. Basically, they fill a tub with fish and cheer the baby on until it understands what to do with the fish. I learned that today. I was covering the school fair over at Gardener Elementary.” He grins. Clark is a well of fun facts. It comes with his job—reporter for human interest stories. Bruce can’t think of a better person for the task.

“That sounds cute. I’m more of a bat person myself. Have you—”

“Seen them eat fruit? Of course, I have! They’re my favourite videos, all swaddled up in a blanket.”

Bruce’s laughter is a low rumble in his chest. What’s he going to do? Lie to Clark and pretend animals are the worst? He can’t beat the guy, so might as well join them. He’ll keep pretending conversations are harmless. They’re just superficial words exchanged by two neighbours.

The bus glides towards their stop, and Bruce notes the gaggle of teens and children outside the bus stop. He squeezes past the person sitting next to him and hops out with Clark. It seems the friendly neighbourhood giant has also noticed.

“Jason, are you smoking?”

One of the kids dressed in a red sweater, the hood pulled up, turns to glare at them. A cigarette is clenched between his teeth, and his companions fuck off, quick like a scatter shot. Out of the hoodie’s shadow, the edges of a blooming bruise is revealed around his eye.

“Jason,” Clark breathes, his tone akin to an ache. This man, he feels too much, but it isn’t Bruce’s place to tell him that. “What happened? Who did this to you?” He kneels to meet the boy’s eyes, but Jason steps back, putting space between them.

“Fuck you! You’re not my dad!”

The anger isn’t really directed towards Clark. The flush on Jason’s face is telling; he was embarrassed in front of his friends, and there has to be some lingering anger from whoever hit him. Bruce says nothing.

“I didn’t say I was, but I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help! If you touch me, I’ll scream.”

Clark flinches at the threat, hurt. He probably hasn’t ever laid a hand on anyone, much less a child. It’s a cruel thing for Jason to do—for him to take out his pain on an innocent.

“Enough,” Bruce growls. “Cigarette.” He holds his hand out.

Jason bares his teeth and spits it at him. It doesn’t get very far, landing on Clark’s knee and Clark swats it off quickly. Jason takes off running. He’ll be back eventually. He has nowhere else to go.

A long sigh escapes Clark as he stands, still dusting his pants off. It’s stained, but he’s more broken up about Jason getting hurt and refusing help.

“I’ll pay you back for the pants.”

“It’s fine. It’s not your fault. I have other pairs at home.” Clark tries to smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He’s worried. “It’s the Visage. They send him on errands sometimes.”

“Makes sense. Cops won’t look into kids.”

“It’s not right. Someone should stand up to them.”

The Visage is the city’s worst kept secret: a hierarchical criminal organization with pockets around the world. Jason and his mother are caught up with the group’s lower echelons, but the fear of the bigger players keeps everyone in line, including law enforcement. In another life—

Not this life.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Kent.”

“They say the pen is mightier than the sword.”

“Those are the words of someone who’s about to do something mighty stupid.”

“He’s just a kid.”

“And you are just one man.”

“Change has to start somewhere.”

“And why should it be with you?”

“Why shouldn’t it?”

Clark isn’t someone who would let others do the work on his behalf. Everytime he puts pen to paper, it’s not his voice he’s speaking with, but all of those who cannot be heard. He has a platform, and of course, a man like him would use it to make the world a better place. Bruce knows because he’s read the articles. They’re damn good, but the Visage won’t yield because of pretty, pleading words. 

“Don’t start something you can’t finish. Your pen isn’t going to stop a bullet in your brain.” Bruce levels Clark with a hard look, and it signals the end of the discussion. He doesn’t linger either, heading upstairs.

These people aren’t your problem, he reminds himself. He came here for peace, and he’ll preserve it however he needs to.

[navree]

I don’t know if it’s been asked before but why do you like Batman? What’s so special about him?

It's been talked about a bit by me just rambling, but never really explained in depth, and even then, I never mind repeating myself <3

So, a not insignificant part of it is that one of the first TV shows I ever remember watching, other than Redwall and Dragon Tales was the DCAU Justice League show, and I immediately fell in love with their version of Batman, especially how he was performed by the late, great Kevin Conroy. So I just started seeking out that version of Batman through the DCAU shows when I was really young, like, seven years old, and it just kinda imprinted itself on me, the way media often can when you're a young child. And I do maintain that, despite some flaws (like the Jason Todd-ification of Tim Drake for no reason, and the obsession with making Bruce and Barbara a couple, which just.....hurl) the DCAU characterization of Batman as a person and as a hero is is the gold standard. But I did start reading comics once I ran my way through all the shows, and that core love still remains.

Part of it is, again, he's Amélie's very first blorbo ever since the mid-2000s, but Bruce as a character is genuinely compelling. Bruce goes through an unimaginable trauma at a very young age, and rather than how most people would react, he chose to do something with it. Seriously, if you think about something like the death of Batman's parents happening in the real world and you just read about it on the news, that's horrific, and it makes sense that it's not only fucked Bruce up, but could have potentially resulted in him turning into a mess. And he is a mess, don't get me wrong, but he also chose to be more than that. He chose to create Batman, to try and help a city that was drowning and make it better. There's an element of choice to Batman's character and his arcs that I've always liked. He doesn't need to do anything that he's done. There's no outside force compelling him to try and create a better version of his city where no one has to experience the hurt that he went through. There's no external pressure demanding that he protect the world even in the face of odds that he cannot win just to keep innocent people safe. There's no ulterior motivator making him take in children who have nothing, children who need a home and a family and loving care, other than the fact that he wants to do right by them and he has an infinite capacity for love in his heart. Bruce has no responsibility to Gotham, the people of Gotham, to other heroes, to the world, to random kids he meets on an off chance. No one asked him to do anything he does, and he's under no obligation to do it or continue. Bruce could stop being Batman tomorrow and dismantle the entire operation and turn his entire family into civilians, and nobody would be able to say he can't do that because he had no duty to start it in the first place. But he did. He chose to do good, to turn his pain into a drive to try and make life better for people in his city, to take a drive that could become a very selfish motivator (for instance, devoting resources solely to finding Joe Chill) and using it for something purely selfless (putting his own self on the line, in all possible ways, just to make sure people can lead better lives and that no one ever experiences the pain that he has).

There is a fundamental goodness to Bruce Wayne's character that is incredibly compelling. Because it would be so easy for there not to be. And he's had a fair amount of writers who've forgotten that it's there (people who write abusive Bruce Wayne are never seeing heaven), but if he's got someone who understands the character, then yeah, he's good. He's selfless and he's kind and he's got a capacity for love and care that is astounding. He opens his heart to children he has no connection to purely just to give them a good home, he refuses to harden himself against letting people in even with the amount of times he's been hurt, he never stops trying to help people who are hurt or sick get better (as clearly seen in his neverending quest to try and help Harvey Dent be rehabilitated). He's a good person who chooses to keep that goodness and not let it slip away from him, no matter what, even when he would be well within his rights to. He never lets himself. I mean, God, Bruce Wayne is someone who will personally resuscitate a man he hates more than anything, a man who murdered his child, just so that his other son won't become a killer and have to live with that guilt (that's real fyi, Dick Grayson once beat the Joker to death after the Joker had taunted him with details of his murder of Jason Todd's, and Batman, along with possibly Robin, managed to revive him so that Dick wouldn't be guilty of murder). Bruce Wayne is someone who could have been fundamentally broken by the things that happened to him, if not the murder of his parents then certainly the murder of his child (and we know it did alter a lot of his personality, which makes sense, cuz his kid died), and no one would have really blamed him. He could have become cold and cruel and a killer, and he knows he has that capacity within him, but he actively chooses not to.

And he doesn't always do the right thing; trust me, if you're a fan of Jason Todd, you're well aware of the fact that Bruce doesn't always do the right thing. He falls short. Batman is only human, and he makes mistakes. He makes wrong and bad choices, he fucks up and needs to try and fix it, he fails to meet his own standards (I don't know how many times I need to say it, but for all intents and purposes, Batman has absolutely broken his no kill rule, going into his confrontation with the Joker in Batman #429 with the express intent to kill, refusing to save him when he can, and never expressing a moment of doubt or remorse when he's believed to be dead, is basically Batman breaking his no kill rule, the only reason it doesn't technically count is because the Joker is revealed to have survived, but he had intent and he never had any remorse or second guessing, it counts as breaking the rule). Bruce has fucked up, with rogues and cases, and with friends and family too, and he's had to live with those mistakes and, if he's got a good writer at least, try to rebuild from there and earn whatever redemption he needs to depending on how big the screwup (and how much the writer either thinks Bruce is an untouchable god/hates whoever he hurt, no I'm not bitter about Certain Storylines, why would I be bitter?).

Bruce Wayne is incredibly human, painfully human. He lives in this world of gods and monsters and there he is, a man with a plan. And it is enjoyable, from a character perspective, that this man who is nothing but human, entirely ordinary, is able to fight and talk and think circles around people who'd routinely be considered superior, who has this place as one of the most god-tier people in his universe entirely because he's earned it, because he's lived up to his potential and his reputation. But there's also something beautiful in that. Like yeah, Bruce is stupid levels of rich, but beyond that, there's really nothing outwardly special about him. He's just a man. But he becomes larger than life through his actions, the choices he makes, the fact that he be brought low as he could be, low as he'd have the right to be, by his circumstances. His goodness remains intrinsic to him, and he refuses to give it up, because it's the core aspect of his humanity, a humanity that he refuses to relinquish in the face of greater and mightier odds and unspeakable evils, and it speaks to an immense fortitude as well as just how good he is.

(and I know there are a lot of generally bad faith criticisms made about the concept of Batman, and what Bruce chooses to do but a) no he does not go around beating up pickpockets and the mentally ill, he either stops crime non-lethally and informs the cops or is specifically asked to intervene in something by the authorities, not to mention that the "mentally ill" people that are his rogues are also basically domestic terrorists who are often full murderers, sorry that my heart does not bleed for the fact that the Joker has some kind of disorder while Batman punches him in the nose, and b) the fact that the system Gotham has in place is made explicitly clear on numerous occasions to not be remotely adequate to deal with what they have to deal with, that a lot of the cops and politicians and people meant to protect citizens are either completely inept and terrible at their jobs or just straight up corrupt and actively making the situation worse, and I do find it amusing that a lot of the criticisms of Batman come from left wing Twitter activists who crow about the incoming revolution but then go catatonic at the idea that a fictional character has decided the system is too corrupt to work with and thus forcibly changes it from the outside, isn't that what y'all's fucking incoming commie revolution is meant to do? Just sayin. Also no, he's not a fascist, tf, words mean things.)

And from a character perspective, from my enjoyment of him as a part of a fiction and an overall puzzle piece in a greater story (cuz I always do try to separate liking a character as a person vs liking them as a character), I'm not immune to the fact that Bruce's complexities come from a good number of tragedies. He's not real, and it does add to interest in him as a narrative device that he deals with a lot and needs to react to it and overcome it (and he deals with a lot, I wrote a list and it's not even comprehensive I definitely left out a lot just out of pure forgetfulness). Watching Bruce as a character, already with all the traits I enjoy listed out above, deal with the things he has to deal with makes him not just a character to enjoy as person, but a character to enjoy as a character, as part of a larger story, as a significant part of what makes that story rich and compelling and routinely interesting even when it's been going on for close to a century. Plus, again, from a character perspective, he's got fascinating interpersonal relationships that are captivating as well and add to his own complexities, relationships not just in terms of romance, but with friends and allies and enemies and especially with family (I think it's kinda impossible to be a Batman fan and not have an insane number of thoughts about the relationship he has with at least ONE of his kids).

There's a lot that's been written about Batman that I don't like, I am not a fan of DC's insistence that Bruce is a shitty dad who routinely beats his children, and it does feel a lot of the time these days like Bruce is a character that I like more for his potential than the way he tends to be written. But I still love that potential, and the kind of character he can be in the hands of a competent writer (and given what a decentralized medium comics are when it comes to canons and characterizations, you have to allow for that kind of leeway in a way you can't with other forms of storytelling) is one that can be truly great. As a character, he's kind of everything you can want, flawed and imperfect and deeply human, but always trying, and with not just a rich interior but complex relationship dynamics that have helped shape who he is.

Ultimately, I think why I like Bruce is best summed up by something Amanda Waller said in the Justice League Unlimited episode Epilogue: I've never met anyone who cared as deeply about his fellow man as Bruce Wayne. And I love him for that.

[joompheart]

I am a BATMANIAC I love BATMAN this sucks because Batman is DUMB AS HELL when he should not be in fact he should be smart as a whip but then if he’s smart as a whip he wouldn’t do all the really viscerally satisfying fan service stuff!!

I have a fantasy of my ideal Batman who works really hard to play the role. He’s been in the game for years but stayed close enough to the ground figuratively speaking that almost nobody outside of Gotham thinks he’s real. He helped found the JLA but left after the first year of that organization and isn’t acknowledged in any of their records. Most of his rouges gallery are actually on okay terms with him. He’s got a middlingly sized bat-family where most everyone actually likes him.

He’s subtle. He spends most of his time doing detective stuff. 6/7ths of his time is spent on terrestrial, normal human stuff like organized crime and working to negate small scale stuff like murder and blackmail. He has to do a lot of the work himself in the rain with binoculars and directed microphones because there aren’t cameras through most of Gotham. He has a grapnel gun and reactive cape like in the Arkham games and the dark knight trilogy, but he also keeps his old fashioned manual grapple hook to swing from gargoyles across the rooftops. His Batmobile and batwing (Bat-plane?) and bat-subway rocket (like in Knightfall) and any other vehicles are made to be as quiet as possible. This doesn’t mean they’re silent, or even close to silent depending on the vehicle, but they’re as low profile as they can be.

He takes the time and effort to preserve his myth and do his research so he really is scary when it counts. Sure “the Bat-Man” has been spotted on a couple of high profile occasions, but that was years ago. Besides, do you really believe the people who said they saw it? So when a mobster or whatever gets snatched out of an alley, it COULD have been Batman. Or it could’ve been something else. Gotham is an old, old, city build on haunted, cursed land with foundations sinking into older, more evil foundations sinking into…

Within the his circle though, there’s little pretense. The people who know that Bruce Wayne is Batman FOR SURE are:

Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Jason Todd (Ressurected Red Hood), Tim Drake (Red Robin is such a dumb fucking name and it doesn’t make sense for the maximum efficiency world of the bat-family because it overlaps with Red Hood and Robin. I think of him as “Cardinal,” which I think is appropriate as a bird that kinda looks like a robin but is way more red), Damian Wayne (Robin), Cassandra Cain (Batgirl), Barbra Gordon (Oracle). Bane (of course), and bane’s inner circle of Bird, Zombie, and Trogg. Last, the Founding members of the JLA, so at least Superman, Wonder Woman, and the Flash. I haven’t settled on the other members, but it’d be 7 counting Batman. Catwoman might be on the list idk how I wanna play it. Batwoman almost certainly is, but I’m not familiar enough with her to make that call yet. At the very least she’d know quickly in the story. Idk if she’d let her lesbionic partner Renee Montoya/ Question in on it either, as I also don’t really know shit about her beyond some appearances in a supporting role as a detective.

The Riddler basically knows but is kept in check in sort of the same way he was at the end of Hush (which probably happened in some capacity in this fantasy continuity). Besides, he, and many of his fellow villains have less destructive interests these days (though they are definitely still dangerous and regularly spend time at the asylum. But the asylum has more actual asylum stuff than ever and has made progress to some extent with many of the regular patients. There’s still some mad science and unethical treatment from time to time though :]). Riddler has a lot of online stuff going on, and while he’ll still hijack the city from time to time it’s usually an effort to “raise the collective intelligence” of its citizens through high stakes games rather than just “solve my riddles so I don’t blow up a hospital for ransom Batman!!!”

Basil Carlo/ Clayface is mostly aligned with a Gotham theatre troupe now, and has earned minor local prestige for his performances and how he can take advantage of his powers to enhance them. He’ll still knock over a bank for cash or get roped into a collaborative scheme, but if anything that kinda endears him to many of the performers and techs.

Pamela Isley / Poison Ivy and Harley Quinn are deep in lesbionics and bounce around a couple cities doing ecoterrorism and animal welfare stuff. Human endangerment brings in Batman and the asylum will keep them like the rest of the gallery because that’s the only place with the specialized facilities. But they’re also generally looked upon fondly.

Dr. Victor Fries/ Mr. Freeze is doing better than ever. He actually managed to save Nora Fries but the process makes her need to stay sub-zero like him. She’s TOTALLY into it (and now bald like him). They’re now a husband and wife team doing bleeding edge research and occasional mad science with everything to do with the concept of “cold.” The have a private lab that’s partially funded by Wayne enterprises but the Fries’ never let Wayne have much influence over their work, as he frequently has moral objections and safety concerns. They do villainy but they’re also leading scientists who Batman alternately admires and values and opposes.

Waylon Jones/ Killer Croc doesn’t do much cannibalism these days. He bounces around crime families and on rare occasions subs in as a cook in mob controlled kitchens. He still enjoys villain team-up schemes, but values comfort and simple pleasures in his day to day. Croc does whatever he wants. One day he’s doing meat prep for Bane’s cookout in Gotham’s Santa Priscan enclave, the next he’s standing in as muscle for one of Penguin’s arms deals, the next he’s playing cards in Black Mask’s strip club. People know of Croc, and the people who actually spend time with him generally like him. When he’s busted he spends time in Arkham reading cookbooks abd other assorted literature, and paints. He’ll still eat a motherfucker raw though.

Batman is definitely a bat-dad now, if a little brooding and distant. He’s in just the last few years of his already ridiculously long lasting prime, and his children are already surpassing him in specific ways, like Jason being stronger and meaner and more organized (somehow lol), Dick being more agile and overall physically effective with a subtle knack for detective work, Tim and Barbra being smarter and more useful with technology by more and more as the months pass, Cassandra and Damian’s strength coming in to match their long superior fighting technique, etc. etc.Bruce is only staying ahead by being the most well rounded and experienced. Alfred is right on the cusp of retirement. Julia Pennyworth is somewhere and occasionally in touch, but sure as hell isn’t stepping in to replace her dad as “home base.”

His family all take the mission seriously (to one degree or another). Certainly more seriously than nearly anyone else in the broader JLA and “superhero community.” They all eventually, for their own reasons if not through direct training, took it to heart that their only way to stay ahead in their world is to be prepared and fight dirty. They all have their strong suits but can also preform well in all of the “bat-family” skills of fighting, stealth, and detective work. This is satisfying on its own, but I’ll admit a lot of it is hoping for a “booyah” moment when one of Batman’s kids just SMOKES some chump JLA member at whatever objective.

To wrap up (as I really ought to Jesus) the fan service stuff I was whining about at the start of the post is basically me moaning that if they really were smart and focused on efficiency and subtle work, the bat family would never all be in one place for a cool “yeah there are like 12 of us” moment outside of the Batcave or a dedicated out of costume vacation. Most of them aren’t even in Gotham except for rare visits home! Whatever. Whatever. I’ll make it happen. I’ll make the Batman who can be serious and also make silly animated series one liners and even dry jokes if my dreams someday. With a Joker who’s actually funny!! I love funny joker who does audacious schemes for money and announces them ahead of time to invite people to stop him!! I don’t care about scary joker anymore I know he was always supposed to be subtly serious and scary but I don’t care anymore I was to laugh with him!!!

[pandorasaquariumm]

Thinking about how Night City is a character in Cyberpunk 2077, it’s such a big part of everything. Like how Tokyo is a character in Lost in Translation, Midnight in Paris, so many Batman movies Gotham is almost the main character. That kinda thing. This is a lot of thoughts so I’m putting it behind a cut! 

I feel like the characters, how they all relate to and react to the city is part of what defines them. If they love it or hate it, want to stay or leave, they’re all built by it. And NC itself as a character, as something that never changes. If the other characters have arcs, develop, NC doesn’t, it’s a constant. Streetkid V left NC to go to Atlanta but they came back home, it wasn’t better anywhere else. In their conversation with Padre, they talk about how NC and Haywood in particular never change, “ever watered by the same blood”. It has its own will and intention, “You're either somebody on you fizzle out into nothin'. Night City don't let you choose.” - it’s not the people, it’s not the system, it’s the city itself. It imposes its will on you, it doesn’t give you a quiet life, you go out in a blaze of glory like Johnny, or you’re nothing and nobody. This pushes everyone, constantly, to be making these fucked up decisions, doing things that risk their lives for the benefit of the city, for the glory of the city. Jackie dies for a name, Johnny dies trying to make a change. V’s only redemption is to give up trying to live up to the whims of the city and go their own way. 

Johnny struggles with the same-ness of NC, he’s come back after sacrificing himself for the cause - make some real change, take down Arasaka, shake up the world. He says “Night City never changes. Arasaka's still a despotic machine and the world's on a collision course with chaos.” In the mission the Ballad of Buck Ravers, he’s annoyed about meeting his biggest fan because he’s clinging to the past, listening to the same old songs, saying the same old phrases but making no impact. He says he “Blew Saka tower to smithereens, and it’s still standing. Just the same.” He wants people to change, wants the city to change but it just doesn’t. It’s the same shit with different packaging. After giving everything up, it made no difference at all. 

Judy only finds peace when she leaves. In her conversations with V via text she sends V a photo of herself by a campfire and from her grandparents house, she’s happy for the first time ever. Night City displaced her from her childhood home, destroyed it, and then ate her alive. She was so unhappy and you could feel it all the time, her tense, hunched over posture, her grief, her guardedness. Out on the world, she’s happy. Night City eats her up and spits her out. 

River's identity as a cop is tied to being a city official. But his family were failed by that same system, victims of violent crime, and that trauma is so high up in his consciousness he tells the whole story to V after only knowing them for a short time. His sister and her children have an ‘ok’ life in a trailer park in the suburbs, but he’s absent because he dedicates everything to NC and his work. He’s left disillusioned when he discovers his fellow officers are corrupt, he has to untangle his identity from NC and find a new path. He wants to make they city better, to make a difference, and maybe he can do that on an individual level, but I felt like he was never going to make an impact on a larger scale. This reminds me of Batman and Gotham too - wanting to fix the city’s ills but ultimately the city remains the same, it’s too resilient to these attempts to change it, it bounces back. So his new identity is as a PI, but I think more importantly as someone who’s actually present for his family. 

The Aldecados, they define themselves as outside of NC and better for it. Nomad V and Panam come to NC to seek their fortune, to make it big, but I feel like both of them find their happiest endings when they leave again and go back to the nomad life. Obviously, in a cyberpunk world, there’s not many happy endings going around, but I feel like this is the ‘best’ outcome for V, living their remaining days in the badlands, free from NC’s destructive influence. Because making it big in Night City, that doesn’t mean a good life or a fulfilling life, it means an ending with a bang, an exciting death that people will remember you for. Like Jackie. 

People talk a lot about how Night City is a lonely place, Judy says she was lonely and V says “like everyone in Night City”, Panam says she doesn’t miss the “emptiness... the feeling of realising it means nothing if you’re alone.” Kerry seems to me like the loneliest guy in NC, in his gated villa, all alone, like someone’s had a party a long time ago and not cleaned up, looking down over the city but not a part of it. But still, Kerry is totally attached to Night City. He says “Night City's a city of shadows. Done everything I could to walk clear of 'em for years.” Kerry’s shadows are the shadows of the past, of Johnny, of living literally in Johnny’s shadow for years, of his own feelings of inadequacy. Johnny says NC is the “only place you fall asleep thinkin' you're special, then wake up knowin' you're no one.” Maybe V helps Kerry drive away some of those shadows, but he won’t leave with you if you ask him to, it’s the end of your relationship if you try. The shadows aren’t going to just go away anyway, Arasaka Tower still stands, Night City doesn’t change. He’s just not done walking among the shadows. 

[zorilleerrant]

I know that in the real world, the Joker's one of the biggest name villains out there, but I like the idea that this is, and remains, just some guy to Gothamites. they've heard of him, yeah, everyone's heard of him, but he's not, you know, major?

yeah, he takes people hostage sometimes, but who doesn't? like, hell, Pack Rat takes an entire restaurant hostage every other week, to the point people have started using him as a kind of specials barometer, and it works surprisingly well. you do have to watch out for hostage scenarios and people with buildings rigged up to do all sorts of things, but that's just public safety.

ok, he's got some toxins. everyone's got toxins. Poison Ivy got almost ten percent of people pregnant that one time. his aren't nearly as dangerous as anyone else's most of the time, and several batches have been reverse-engineered to treat depression and ptsd. he's practically a hero, by some metrics. they get loose and kill everyone, yeah, but there are stores still lined with asbestos doing big business, and rusted shut sprinkler systems on too many buildings, and homes where they can never quite scrub the fear toxin out of the walls. half this shit is the fault of the people who keep taking bribes to pour chemical waste into the harbor and it gets into the reservoirs. someone get the city to look into it, right?

he stabs some people. beats some people to death. it's a tragedy, but it's random. it's not like the mob coming through on a protection racket, it's not like the gcpd coming through roughing people up just to prove their dicks haven't fallen off, it's not like the specialty villains coming through picking people out on a new trait each week. Mad Hatter's extended his vendetta to anyone who makes any kind of clothes, and started targeting cosplayers. one of the Fireflies started beefing with some water based meta and now targets anyone who buys bottled water. Killer Moth got into a racist podcast and he's been escalating. and they're all bigger than that guy who cuts off people's feet for wearing striped socks, or that meta who uses scorpion venom on dog people, or that one that hypnotizes people into avoiding the color red. Joker's just some guy that murders people at random, like Condiment King. like of course you're going to avoid him, but it's random, you know?

the scary thing about him is he's a clown, in most people's eyes, and then they're kind of like, hey, it's a stereotype, sorry about that. no one outside of Gotham has ever heard of him, unless they like to jumpscare themselves with that selfsame phobia. even in Gotham, there are a bunch of copycats people confuse him with, to the point where they collective call the shared aesthetic The Jokerz and don't bother to disambiguate. he's just some clown, and like every clown, you hit him with a chair and you leave.

there's not a Joker Exception to the Bats killing because no one thinks of the man as that big a threat. he hasn't done anything notable, more annoying, a couple of them were even vaguely funny. if Batman lost it and killed that guy, well, fuck, who wouldn't he kill? that guy's never done anything to anyone, his body count is like ten people, half the civilians in Gotham have killed more people than that. it's kind of uncool to hate him just because he's a scary clown.

he's just a sad old man. to everyone else but the Batfamily, he's just some sad old man. he takes and he takes and he takes, but all of it is so personal, all of it is so tied up in secrets and lies and lives that they can't say anything, they can't complain, they can't reach out for help. and to explain why this tiny little nobody managed to worm his way in when most people have the decency not to even when they can, it's just - how do you explain that? how do you explain that to other heroes without looking like a failure?

[kylo-wrecked]

Wood shavings. Moth balls, something chemical in still quiet. Just grazes.

Place smells colder than it is.

The Bat waits even so. Reasonable cause hiding in his caliber - (Getting the readouts on some of this guy's pricier hardware, but it takes a few seconds and digital thumbing, file after file. After file.) - but that's not what has his shadow suspended across a faux pad/lounge with its complement of eclectic, not-quite rock-and-roll joints and a couple Fenders. (Thinks it's a Mustang that catches his eye, but easier to move on as stillness grows. Expands.)

He's not so sure nobody's home.

The Bat departs from the limelight; this blood orange glow that drenches the trailer (so-called) from somewhere outside. Scouts a chalk scuff of blow on a glass table. Shadow exhaling over carpet; couch; crystallized lid where glass becomes a code-locked cartridge within table's core.

Starting to nose out a tinge of panic here. All this. It's in the secrecy.

Velvet noises, skin on skin rustling over Egyptian linen. You can hear the quality of the sheets if you really listen. The small breaths passing from one mouth to another.

Toward the back of the trailer, a tinge of panic and something else—restraint. And then it shifts, this restraint. This dark braid of unrefined energy comes slowly, foot by foot, from behind a shoji screen. 

The disdainful scowl, the surly pout, the cut of his profile, hollowed by too much work, too much party, too much time under fluorescents in studios. One would have to live in a cave not to recognize his face, but at any rate, Ben Solo, who ordinarily wouldn't be caught dead in sweats, stands shirtless behind the double-barrel of a firearm, squinting at the umbrage kneeling by his glass table. 

Dark as it is, it's easy to spot the ears. And behind that, the lattice on the ol' Kylo Ren helmet.

"You got to be fucking kidding me," he hisses. "You? Even you come sniffing my way. This city."

He snuffs, skims the drop of shadow between them, pallid behemoth navigating his grotto with scotopic vision, eyes wet and black in a temporary brume of amphetamine-induced aniridia, mutant coach gun raised, the needle of the serpent's tail poised to strike. 

"Reallyritzyfuckingtown, Gotham, par Southside." Grinding his teeth as he tracks the Bat with the barrel, Ben shakes his head. Whispers, "No, don't move. Hands where I can see them. I know what you're trying to do."  

He tracks; he moves with military poise. It's not acting. Click, and that thing, that custom no one, least of all Ben Solo, should own, is loaded, locked, locked, loaded, like the corners of his jaw. 

"Where was I when whatsisface died tonight?" His grin catches in that famous everlasting Gotham red. "Yeah, I know all about that. It's news. I'll tell you. You gotta hit the Iceberg for anything that's not fucking Drops, and it's shit. You think I'm panicking? TryIjustsnortedalumpofuckin'dryice. Jesus. I can't fucking work in this place. I have a set in two days. Gonna be in limbo, trapped in this      fucking     place for two days before that, before I get to live for a few hours. And that's touring, iswhatitis-done. But last year, I heard some pyromaniac freak called Firefly burned the west stage down, and everyone died."  

Serpent's eyes narrow, shining with a joyless kind of mirth. Snake voice with the merest baritone timbre rolling beneath. 

"So, I left this trailer at twenty-three-hundred-hours-to-buy drugs, Batman. Picked up some rocks from this other freakshow called the Penguin, which you already know. There's your answer. That's what you wanted. Now you got it, at the cost of wasting both our time. Now get the fuck out."

Gun to the hatch; and one has to wonder how the fuck he got in; but in Brooklyn, Ben saw rats like five feet tall. What was a six-foot bat in boots? Just another day in the fucking city. 

"Go on, Bat. That's stage left there." He gestures with the shotgun he now lowers out of a radiant, misplaced sense of chivalry. "Beat it. You bother me." 

Then, the panic the Bat clocked when his shadow passed Ben's threshold makes its voice known: "Babe? What's going on?" 

A feminine voice and Ben freezes. Thaws, his face contorting momentarily into a hellscape of wrath. He raises the gun again, cocks it at the cape. Sniffs. 

"Man, you're really fucking up my night."

The voice, keening: "Ky-looo?"

And Ben, seeming like he might turn on his heel, walk the five or so feet, and jerk the barrel through the Shoji blinds: "Shitting fuck." (More to the Bat, almost apologetically). "I told you, do not fucking call me that. What?" (Acidic, spitting, meant for the bitch too high to notice or care that there's a strange man decked out in high-tech rave gear hiding in Ben's trailer).

The panic in the voice melts into Halcion bliss: "I'm waaaait-ing." 

"You'll keep waiting... there's V. on the bottom right. On the tape. Top up and touch yourself. I need to handle this."

"MMmndf, handle whatttt?" 

"A giant bat."

"OhmyGod, grossssss." 

Ben keeps his eyes and his gun on Mr. Cloak and Dagger, unflinching, unimpressed. 

"It's just a bat, 'babe.'" He grins and blows The Bat a little plump-lipped goodbye kiss. "Don't worry. If it doesn't fly away after a friendly, animal cruelty-free chat, I'll shoot it right between its eyes, slice it up, and eat it off your ass like sashimi."

Trailer's like a vent. Oh, if that gun went off. The colors, the sound.