#oh hello there batman

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt in Memes 6

Let's make it some in-world memes this time :)

[daredevil-vagabond]

You know it's thriller, thriller night!

My solo piece for the @gothamhorrorzine

[emo-batboy]

Little Headcanon About Battinson Solving Cold Cases :)

[ittybittybumblebee]

Okayyy soem batman villain fanart or whatever smiles cutely and blows up the whole whide world

[versasfanficwastedump]

second child restless child by the oh hellos is about jason todd i will not be taking any questions at this time

[cowboymater]

realized that i have yet to shamelessly promote EURUS on here so this is me rectifying the situation. pretty please go read it i'm working very hard & losing my mind just a little bit in the process

[nighhtwing]

guys i started playing gotham s1ep1 just for kicks... WHAT is this .

[shahareen]

stress truly can manifest in the zaniest of ways possible. cus why did i dream of kasumi miwa from jjk going on a date with a newly resurrected jason todd. they were eating ice cream and she was twirling her katana mid-convo and they were both just carrying on 🗿

[landfilloftrash]

shoutout to my girl eno’s nightmare bc. Hi! What and/or Who the fuck was that ! its gonna haunt her and i for awhile !

[sohotthateveryonedied]

Summary: Tim is thirteen the first time he walks into the Batcave and finds Bruce holding a gun to his head. Warnings: Suicide Attempt, Depression, Suicidal Thoughts

Tim is thirteen the first time he walks into the Batcave and finds Bruce holding a gun to his head. The initial shock, strangely, comes not from the dreaded act itself that Tim is bearing witness to, but the sight of such an unnatural choice of weapon clutched in Bruce’s hand. Batman hates guns. He’d never use them on anybody. Anybody but himself, apparently. Tim’s body goes stone-cold. He freezes mid-step. “Bruce?” he squeaks, waiting for the scene to shift back to normalcy. Make it make sense: a surprise training exercise, some imaginary scenario that Tim is supposed to run through to show he knows the procedure. This can’t be real. It doesn’t make sense. Bruce doesn’t startle at the sound of Tim’s timid voice behind him. Of course he doesn’t; Batman never startles. Still, he doesn’t lower the gun like Tim expects—hopes. He doesn’t even look at his newest protege, only a Robin for two months and still so uncertain as to how he can possibly fill the shoes of the heroes before him.

“Bruce,” Tim says again. He’s trying so hard not to let his voice shake in front of his mentor, but it becomes increasingly harder when Bruce still won’t lower the damn gun. Robin shouldn’t quiver, no matter how frightened he is. He doesn’t dare move forward, terrified that one footstep will set off the shot.

“Alf—” Tim’s voice cracks. He clears his throat. “Alfred said lunch is almost ready. He made crab cakes.” Bruce doesn’t react visibly other than by slightly turning his head in Tim’s direction, indicating that he heard him. It isn’t much, but it’s a start. A small, microscopic start. Tim should be ashamed of himself for his shoddy observational skills under pressure. He was so alarmed by the gun in Bruce’s hand that he didn’t realize until this moment that the pistol is the very same one that murdered Thomas and Martha Wayne. The display case across the cave croons its hollowness. Tim wants to throw up. Bruce looks stunningly human like this, with neither cowl nor cape to make him more than a man. Men are mortal. Men can be broken. Men kill themselves when the burden gets too heavy to bear. There is something fragile in the way Bruce holds this deadly weapon aloft—a potent sense of weakness despite holding all the power in the room in his hand. Everything is different in the mask. Batman is infallible, unbreakable. Here, in this dithering moment, the illusion crumbles. Bruce Wayne is just a man. “Bruce, please,” Tim whispers, his plea a childish whine even to his own ears. He doesn’t know how else to fix this. He’s thirteen. He hasn’t been trained in this yet. He’s too young to know which words will help and which will hurt. He doesn’t even fully know what he’s pleading for. The thought of Bruce blowing a hole through his skull is equally as unimaginable as the thought of having to continue living with a Bruce Wayne who wants to die. Tim won’t be able to look his partner in the eyes ever again without remembering this heinous moment. “I lost him,” Bruce croaks, so softly and dully that Tim isn’t sure if the words were intended for him at all. “He’s gone.” He sounds so tired. Not sad, not angry. Just tired. A tightrope slowly, painfully filed down to its last thin strings. Tim can’t pretend he’s surprised that this is the crux of it all. Everything always comes back to Jason. He hears the quiet click of the gun cocking like an explosion. Tim fishes for the first rescue line he can think of. “I still don’t know how to do a ridge hand strike,” he throws out into space—a desperate attempt from his panicked mind. “You said you’d teach me, remember?” It’s dumb, and childish, and Tim has no reason to think he could ever be equipped to handle something so monumental as this. Bruce looks sideways at Tim, his brow furrowing. “I did, didn’t I?” he murmurs, almost absently. Remembering a dream. “After—after lunch. You can teach me,” Tim says, trying so damn hard to keep rooted, but he can’t look away from that black metal glinting in the low light of the cave. After another very long, very tense moment, Bruce lowers the gun. He turns fully to face Tim, his expression unreadable. “All right.” He removes his finger from the trigger. “All right,” Tim echoes, relief and revulsion shaking through him. Bruce puts the gun back securely in its case, locking the awful weapon back where it belongs. He goes upstairs without another word to Tim, so casual that Tim could almost believe the scene never happened at all. It takes several more minutes before Tim’s legs stop shaking enough to follow him.

------------------------------------

Tim becomes more vigilant after that. He has to. How could he not, after what they so narrowly avoided? He can’t stop imagining what he would have found if he’d gone downstairs just five minutes later. Bruce’s blood would have stained the cave floor no matter how hard Alfred scrubbed. Bruce has not brought up the incident since it occurred, so Tim doesn’t bring it up either. He doesn’t know if it’s supposed to be kept a secret or if Bruce is simply too embarrassed to mention it, but Tim wouldn’t dare give it up either way. He can’t stop picturing the gun against Bruce’s temple every time he looks at him. Tim gets used to keeping himself awake until he hears Bruce go to his bedroom after patrol, hears the creak of his bed as he settles into it, just to be sure that going to sleep is all he does. Tim can’t afford to be caught unprepared again. The rational portion of Tim wants to tell someone. Just to hear it out loud. Just to know if it was real. Maybe Dick would know something about it; maybe he’d have tips for Tim to keep it from happening again, but Tim has no idea how he would even go about starting that pipe bomb of a conversation. While we’re on the subject, witness Bruce trying to blow his brains out lately? Even worse would be if Dick doesn’t already know, and Tim just betrayed his partner with a secret he wasn’t sure was a secret in the first place. Would Dick be angry with Bruce for exposing Tim to such a grim horror? Would he blame Tim for letting it get this far? And, worst of all, how weak would he think Bruce must be for letting himself get so low? What would Alfred think? What if they told the Justice League? What if Tim’s slippage broke everything that Batman was supposed to be? Batman can’t crack. Batman can’t be depressed. But if Tim is there, then he can’t be, right? That’s what Tim signed up for, after all—bringing Bruce back from that brink after losing Jason. Tim knows the futility of his task; he can never replace Jason, no matter how hard he pretends, but he can be something. He can take care of Bruce for as long as he needs. Robin’s job is to keep Batman in the light. This is just another of Tim’s unspoken duties listed in the fine print. For all that Tim hopes and prays, the next incident isn’t far off from the first. Batman has been standing on the same rooftop for over ten minutes now, unmoving, unspeaking. Looking down at the street below as if in morbid curiosity of what would happen if he took the plunge. “Batman,” Tim says. It’s laughable; he’s so small, even in his armored uniform and the lifts in his shoes to raise him to Jason’s height. If Bruce toppled, Tim couldn’t catch him any more reliably than an insect could catch a boulder. He says again, stronger, “Batman. Look at me.” He creeps up closer behind Bruce, attention caught in the inches between Bruce’s boots and the edge of the roof, and the cars belting along just below. Any one of them could do the job. “Look at me.” Slowly, drudgingly, Bruce turns his head. He looks down impassively at Tim’s pale, daringly relieved face. Tim smiles the tiniest amount at the victory. “We’re okay. Right? Everyone’s okay.” His small hand takes hold of Bruce’s, and he knows this isn’t how it should be. He’s too young for this, for all of Bruce and all of Batman and everything of both of them. Tim carries not only Bruce’s life in his hands, but everything that Batman is and could be, and all of the lives he needs to be alive to save. When Bruce doesn’t move from that tantalizing edge, Tim pulls gently on his hand. “C’mon, there’s a robbery on Fifth Ave. We need to be there.” That keyword, need, is what finally draws Bruce back into sentience. It might be the only reason he’s still here now, why he didn’t find a rooftop just like this one after Jason’s body went cold and followed him into the dark. Gotham needs him. Robin needs him. “Let’s go,” Bruce says. He drops Tim’s hand without a backward glance, already striding for the fire escape he climbed up here on. Tim follows without another word.

------------------------------------

“Bruce.” The voice is distant and warbly, an annoyance Bruce would like to press the snooze button on. It sounds so much like Jason, but that’s impossible because if Bruce were with Jason, he wouldn’t be feeling like gum scraped off the street. “Bruce, wake up,” Tim says frantically, shaking Bruce’s shoulders. Bruce grumbles and opens his eyes with reluctance. He appears to have passed out on the floor of his bathroom. An empty bottle of scotch sits overturned on the tile beside him. Closer to the tub is a bottle of drain cleaner, the seal on the cap still unbroken. Bruce must have fallen asleep before he could get that far. Tim lets out a relieved breath when Bruce blinks into awareness, the swirling light fixture above gradually coming into focus. “Come on, you need to go to bed. You’ve got stuff to do tomorrow.” He slides his arms under Bruce’s armpits and levers him upright the best he can, which isn’t much with Bruce’s uncooperating dead weight. Who cares about budget meetings and repairing worn-out grapple guns? The more time goes on, the less Bruce can find it in him to care about the tedium of this life he’s living. Tim works to get Bruce to stand on his own feet, but it’s a useless effort for someone half Bruce’s size. The best he manages is supporting Bruce on one side and half-dragging him into the adjoined master bedroom. It’s almost amusing: Bruce almost never drinks, aside from champagne at parties or those three bottles of whiskey on the night of Jason’s funeral. He should have drowned in it. Tim helps Bruce out of the bathroom and over to his bed. From this close, Bruce can study the bruise-colored smudges underlining Tim’s eyes. Bruce knew it weeks ago when Tim gave up on sleeping altogether, too afraid that taking five minutes to close his eyes would be enough time for Bruce to carve through a vein and bleed out on the floor. Some nights Bruce dreams of slipping a sedative into the kid’s Gatorade so he can do just that without the fear of being interrupted. 

“You’re a good boy, Tim,” Bruce murmurs, his head swimming dangerously with every motion of his uncooperative body. He’s not a lightweight except when he wants to be. Bruce dumps himself on top of the comforter, wishing the mattress would swallow him whole. “Jason…Jason was good too. He was perfect.” What Bruce wouldn’t give to have him back. He’d trade any life, take any risk. He’d slit his own throat in a heartbeat if only it rewrote that tragic day. Parents shouldn’t be allowed to lose their children. They shouldn’t be forced to keep walking on this gray-hued chunk of rock after their child is dead. It isn’t fair. It isn’t right. Tim is his usual quiet, unobtrusive self as he collects the scotch and empty glass from the bathroom floor. He stops to put the unopened drain cleaner in the garbage can, just in case. He cleans up Bruce’s mess until one could almost pretend it never happened. It’s what he came here to do in the first place, isn’t it? Fix the Batman, make him better again. What a joke. There is no “better” for Bruce. There is no healing. There is just waiting, waiting until his mission is finished and he can join his son in death. “Stop talking like that,” Tim says quietly. Bruce didn’t even know he was saying his traitorous thoughts aloud. “You’re just tired.” Tim goes to leave, but Bruce catches his wrist before he can stray too far. “’m sorry,” Bruce slurs, his drunken eyes strikingly alert as he looks at Tim, this child he dragged into his blackened world. He’s sorry that this is Tim’s job. He’s sorry that he burdened this little boy with a man’s responsibility. He’s sorry that the child he has now isn’t the one he wants. Tim’s mouth tightens into a thin line. He nods curtly. “Get some sleep, Bruce.”

[im-not-buying-it-ether]

Headcanons that can and will make up how I write the Marvelous Bats AU I’m trying to actually write

Everyone has a minor upgrade or addition on the powers they have. Eugene has his technokinesis, Pedro is physically stronger than Billy even though they have the same blessing, Darla is faster, Freddy has some minor telekinesis and is better at flying in practice, and Mary’s courage is infectious to the degree of getting people out of being scared frozen in an emergency and getting them to rescue themselves and have the bravery to help others along the way.

Billy and Mary are still twins, she’s adopted by the Bromfields and Billy is newly fostered by the Vasquez’s but they all work and spend time together as a family unit despite the separate home lives

Billy knows how to make portals anywhere with doors, the place just needs to have a door. (He has tried getting the Batcave that way but apparently the car doors of the Batmobile don’t count)

Yes all the Bats know the Marvels identity’s and vice versa, the rest of the League? Nope. Just think Batman mellowed out in his crusade to learn Caps identity

Yes Bruce wanted to adopt Billy, Billy said screw that and Jason pointed out how bad of an idea it would be to have a kid named Batson in the public eye of Gotham. “The Joker can and will try to make a bad joke out of the kid Bruce.” “Yeah Batman, you want me to die in a robin costume of all things?” Bruce just stayed silent for a moment and almost started crying (it’s was only a week later Jason took a good look at the kid and realized Billy is a mini him and Bruce probably didn’t like the Robin comment)

Damian, Darla, and Jon are the true kid hero trinity. Their mission? Chaos

Freddy just about passed out when he met Barbra, the super amazing Batgirl is the super cool lady behind the monitor that’s one of freaking Batman’s most essential teammates? Oh the feeling of finally seeing a super like himself

Tim met Billy and Mary’s parents through his own when he was little, the 3 of them had a very long discussion about cool archeology stuff for a good few hours

Because his hero form is his “full potential” and is very big Pedro asked Jason to help him get from how he is now to his hero form, seeing as his body type was closest. Now they work out together every Tuesday and Friday (school and vigilante work permitting) half of it is actually working out and the other is building Pedros confidence

Batman and Captain Marvel make a point to block and argue heavily against any other Marvel joining the League, Billy is the only one until the rest of the family does meet the age requirement they have. Billy does the heavy lifting expected of the actual Champion of Magic and his siblings enjoy the small town hero life and look out for Fawcett and the Rock when he’s off world, Mary is the defacto leader when he’s gone.

Like how every Bat has their designated Super and sometimes Wonder, they all have a Marvel they hang out with more than others. Mary and Dick hang out and bond over being the unfortunate voice of reason siblings, Darla is the childish influence making Damian act more his age and love doing it. Billy and Bruce are the respective “heads of the family” and Bruce checks in a lot on how Billy’s life is going with the occasional leadership tip thrown in to help with hero work. Jason tutors Pedro when they’re both visiting, if they cross paths on the job they’ll talk sports a lot. Freddy and Eugene talk a lot about strategy’s, games, gadgets, and superpowers with Barbra and Tim.

Tawny and Alfred are golfing buddies, they also build miniatures of flag ships together and talk about their weird family of supers over tea

Eugene has hacked the Bat-computer on multiple occasions, each time to make an edit to any files Bruce makes of the family, mostly something childish like adding “the amazing” or “the super awesome” before their hero names in the files. But one hack he did was into his contingency plans files, which nearly gave Bruce a heart attack thinking there was going to be another accident that would almost kill his friends.

The hack was the change of “Further research needed to figure out a strategy for neutralization, for now the best strategy is to trick or force them into using their trigger phrase to de-transform before incapacitating them” to “let their siblings deal with the situation”

The Justice League’s first introduction to Captain Marvel was during a “Superman is being affected by Red Kryptonite” situation. By the time they caught up to him in Fawcett their resident hero was helping the man up and panicking over how much he hurt him trying to wrestle the Kryptonite off him, they offered him a seat with them by the end of the week after satellite imaging showed that he led Superman into the air after he knocked down a building and delt with him without further damage and Superman’s account that he broke his arm and bruised multiple ribs trying to stop him. Billy was 9 at the time and only had his powers a few months at that time so he had no idea how much he needed to reel his strength in and was panicking too much to properly do so either way in that fight.

Damian was jealous that Billy got into the league so young and Bruce still won’t let him on despite his capabilities but realizes Billy only got so far because of a lie of omission and one event where he severely harmed Superman, he’d call his father an idiot if he hadn’t tried to keep an eye on such a worrying individual

The Vasquez’s know their kids visit the Wayne’s every other day, as do the Bromfields, but only Vic and Rosa know about the superhero part of it all. The Bromfields just think Mary is visiting a girl friend and having sleepovers every so often, they aren’t entirely wrong since she does hang out with Cass and Stephenie but they don’t need to know her whole superhero life. It’s framed as a mentorship so that their kids can do their best with the powers given to them with a healthy amount of encouragement in still being kids and attending school, it’s mostly just the two families spending time with eachother though.

Black Adam used to antagonize the Marvel Family but after a fight with Billy 1v1 he saw he was a child and stopped trying to actively kill him, he’s now their weird uncle figure who pops by to show them some fighting moves and try to tell Billy to stop being the champion until he’s older.

Black Adam is closer to the movie version solely for the purposes of expanding the family size, he looks like his classic comic self but has to shift in morals and backstory he had in the movie

The fight happened in a empty patch of dessert outside Khandaq when Billy was 11, no one on the League knows why they suddenly stopped fighting or why Cap officiated the guys wedding but their happy he figured something out so his city didn’t get torn up every month by their fights anymore.

The hero names and nicknames for the Marvel family are as follows

Billy Batson —> Captain Marvel (Cap, the Captain)

Mary Bromfield —> Mary Marvel (Mary)

Freddy Freeman —> Lieutenant Marvel (Lieu, Captain Marvel Jr. (by one annoying reporter))

Pedro Peña —> General Marvel (The jolly green giant, Greenie)

Eugene Choi —> Chief Marvel (Chief, Master Chief (self proclaimed, never used))

Darla Dudley —> Ms./Princess Marvel (Ms., Missy Marvel, Missy (Used for professional purposes) Princess (Used every other time as her choice of code name))

Adriana Tomaz —> Isis (/got the amulet of Isis as a wedding gift from Darla from the Rock, she didn’t know what it was but is happy she got cool powers with the rest of the family/)

Amon Tomaz —> Horus (/name changed from comics to coincide with the change in family dynamic between him and Adriana from siblings to parent/child/)

Theo —> Black Adam/Khem Adam

Shout out to @thefantasmarex for reminding me how much I love these two families together

[harryforvogue]

i have to buy SLACKS i'm so annoyed i dont have that kinda money???

[shewhowillwrite]

Dead on Main AU Prompt Fic

Edit: i use @shewhowillrise

The Justice League was choosing their head engineer. They had a few contenders. One being the top student in engineering at Gotham University, even has a scholarship through Jason Wayne’s Scholarship for Underperforming Students. Bruce Wayne has started it after adopting Jason and seeing how smart he was but also how much he struggled in school.

Daniel Fenton lived on the same street as the Monarch Theatre, the same street he found Jason.

Batman couldn’t help but think Daniel was what Jason could have been if he was able to finish school and head off too college.

Batman knocked on the apartment door, not at all surprised at how fast it opened. When setting up the meeting, he could hear the excitement over the phone.

“Hello Batman Sir!” Daniel greeted, holding out a hand. He had a strong firm grip, reminded him of Clark’s. Possibly a meta, which is a plus. With what the kid might encounter while building or making repairs, a meta gene would be good to have, especially strength.

And over the meeting Batman fell more and more in love with the kid’s enthusiasm. Without the guarantee of the job, the kid was ready to give some ideas (that would amazing) incase the League would need them.

The meeting was supposed to be an hour but soon he noticed that the sun was low.

Batman sat up straighter upon hearing a key turn in the lock.

“Oh that’s my partner, sorry, I would I have warned you but I didn’t realize the meeting was going to be this long,” Danny (only creepy billionaires call me Daniel) said, which Batman also noted that he tried his best not to blame Batman for going over the allotted time. Kid’s respectful too.

“Hey Stardust how’d the meeting I’m not supposed to know about go? I’m sure whatever words you stumbled over the Bat didn’t hold it against you for being nerv-” the disembodied voice walks into the dining room, and freezes in surprise before collecting himself, an easy smile going on his face while wiping grease stained hands on his grease stained jeans and stuck one out to shake.

“Hi, I’m Jaylad Peters,” he says but Batman doesn’t take the hand offered. He doesn’t react at all.

In front of him is his baby boy, the one that died in his arms, the one he buried in Gotham Cemetery, near Thomas and Martha. His Jason.

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Once Batman has revealed his identity to the JL, and after some strong encouragement from Superman and Wonder Woman, Bruce decides to try to start being a bit more "personable" with the rest of league. They've been colleagues for a decade and he trusts them all, and according to Clark and Diana this means there's no need for his whole mysterious "shadow of the night" bit, so he invites the league to dinner at the manor.

It is raining heavily, and even though it's not that late, it's nearly pitch dark but for the frequent lightning strikes. The league arrives together at Wayne Manor and the wrought iron gates stretch upward before them, ending in spikes at the top with ivy overgrown across them. They stand there, uncomfortable, wet, a bit weirded out, wondering how they're supposed to get passed the gates.

"This is creepy, right?" Hal says. "It's not just me?"

A voice. "Hello." As the league turns to the sound, thunder claps loud enough to startle everyone as lightning strikes, illuminating a small child standing on the other side of the gates that was definitely not there a second ago. He stands motionless under an umbrella, seemingly unbothered by the rain, expression vaguely irritated, and his eyes seem to flash green in the light. "I have been instructed to escort you inside."

The child doesn't move in any way but the gates slowly swing open, the creaking sounds sound straight out of a horror movie. Once they are fully opened, the boy turns and starts walking down the path without a word.

The league, some members quite freaked out at this point, follow him after exchanging some looks. They round a bend in the path and the manor comes into view. It is a massive dark structure, rising from the ground. Another lightning strike illuminates pointed spires, jagged edges, and it's gloomy, gothic nature. The sound of bats shrieking can be heard in the distance over the rain.

The league finally arrives at the front door, cold, wet, and thoroughly discomfited. An old man, a butler, looking out of time, opens the door, the child disappears inside. The butler welcomes everyone inside graciously but with a distant politeness. Despite the appearance of the exterior, the inside is well lit with warm light and seems inviting, though ostentatious. The league is relieved.

Until another massive lightning strike and thunder clap cuts the power off and the room is pitch black.

"Oh, you're here," a deep voice says from somewhere up above. No sooner are the words out than another lightning strike illuminates a dark, hulking figure on the staircase that was also definitely not there a second ago. At least two people scream.

Bruce is wildly confused as to why his guests are screaming, he didn't think any of them were afraid of the dark? The back up generator kicks on and the lights come back on and everybody seems to calm down. The rest of the dinner seems to go well (as well as a dinner can with the justice league and all of Bruce's kids) but strangely, to Bruce's confusion, it somehow only made his "spooky" reputation worse. He's not really sure why the whole league seems to think he lives in a haunted house.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [3]

during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!

But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.

Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.

But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.

Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.

he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.

now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.

far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.

“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 

“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”

there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.

“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.

“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”

“oh you simply must come visit!” 

well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?

things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.

their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.

but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.

There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?

Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.

Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 

He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.

so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.

It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.

it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere

Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 

And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.

Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?

He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.

he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.

Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.

If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 

Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.