#upstate gotham

[emo-batboy]

Me: I hate fans that insist Gotham’s in New York when DC says it’s in New Jersey! Why won’t they just accept that?? It’s been canon for YEARS—

DC: Metropolis is in Delaware.

Me: Shut the entire fuck up.

[faytelumos]

Jason Todd and Bella Swan are in a bookclub together in my heart. ❤️

[dairy-farmer]

Jaytim where Jason gets cucked by.... *gasp* Willis Todd!?

Instead of dying he simply served a long sentence and was released shortly after his son's marriage. Of course he wants to reconnect!

One of my favourite headcanons is that Jason has a mommy kink, so it would fit well if Tim shared some traits and mannerisms with Catherine.

Anyways idk if Tim would ever willingly cheat with Willis, or if this is some dubious/non-consensual scenario, but it might end with patricide, a retraumatized Jason and Tim giving birth to at least one of Jason's siblings. Not neccessarily in that order.

yes yes yseby yes ye sye s YESRESS YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i LOVE this!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

where willis was never killed he just got sentenced to serve a long sentence. when he gets out its been years, a lot of his old stomping grounds have been bulldozed, crime has been severely cracked down upon due to batman's presence. a lot of the simple "honest" work that willis used to be able to use to get by has been all but made oblique. plus he's behind. since getting locked behind bars the world has essentially left him behind. his wife who used to put money on his books had stopped, not because she'd met another man but because she'd gone and died.

when willis gets out he has nothing, no one. but the rule of his probation was that he needed a permanent address where the officer could roll by and check on him at any minute.

all of willis' old contacts, mainly women who he'd messed around with, had either changed their numbers, disappeared, or moved on from him.

willis' options are limited. he'd been born nothing into nothing but he'd still made use of what he had to crawl himself up. decent looks and enough charisma to power a steamboat had been his saving grace. it was what had landed him a nice loyal woman that always put up bail money and raised his bastard.

but willis wasn't so young anymore. that dark hair had faded to streaks of gray, his features had weathered due to age. he was still good looking but not young enough to get stupid little girls to offer him anything he wanted in exchange for a little attention.

but willis was lucky. the gotham prison system had under gone revisions in recent years and a database had been established to help recently released felons reconnect with family and friends to keep them off the streets and therefore away from re-offending.

it's how willis manages to find out his son was alive and not dead in a gutter or rotting in some prison upstate.

what a pleasant surprise!

the little shit had never deigned to visit willis and the address the secretary gives him is in one of the nicer parts of crime alley.

willis can't say he didn't resent the kid a bit. getting a baby dumped on him by a girl he fucked once or twice was a pain in the ass. moreso that when he brought the baby home to catherine she'd cried.

hurt and betrayed that willis had cheated on her.

willis would admit that beneath the hard exterior, part of him had felt a churn of something in his gut at making his cathy cry. she was different from the other women, from the girls he fucked and dumped. it was why he'd kept her around, married her.

she was genuine. sweet. she looked at willis with a look of concern his own mother had never given him. she worried about him, patched him up when he'd return bruised and cut up. she was the only one who ever believed willis would make something of himself, citing willis' head for numbers which had landed him pretty decent jobs as a number runner and accountant that had given them a comfortable life.

until the baby arrived. then all of a sudden willis' meager pay was going towards diapers and milk and all the million things babies needed.

willis would admit the kid had single-handedly ruined him and cathy by draining their finances. cathy had tried to assure him it was alright, that they'd figure things out. she'd even tried going down to the welfare office to get help paying for the kid.

but she'd been rejected. both their criminal records made it so they were on their own.

it meant willis had been made to start taking riskier jobs from shadier employers. cathy had to call up old contacts and start working as a courier again just so they could make ends meet.

so willis hated the kid.

oh he pretended he didn't. for cathy's sake. she'd grown attached and willis had lost the opportunity to suggest they dump the kid at the firehouse or an orphanage.

willis admitted he'd smacked the kid around a bit. mostly when he'd cry that cathy wasn't around.

when willis had gotten the rotten end of stick and landed himself nearly 20 years in prison on a trumped up charge it hadn't felt real.

he'd felt like he was in some sort of waking nightmare as his bumbling public defender fucked up his case.

20 years was a long time to spend behind bars. some of the guys willis got locked up with turned to religion, others tied their identities to the prison gangs and sank deeper into the tar pit of crime.

willis did what he could to maintain his sanity.

until the day of his release when he's handed back the clothes he was arrested in along with his belongings. a wallet with a wrinkled 5 dollar bill, a receipt from the bus, his old house key, and a notebook of addresses that'd landed him in lockup.

willis feels lost when the prison bus dumps him on some random street corner in gotham, a pamphlet of resources in hand, alongside about 12 other inmates.

unlike most of them, willis was literate enough to actually read what was printed and made his way to the listed office. the office which directed him to the home of his estranged son that he hadn't seen since the day he got thrown over the hood of a police car for entering the wrong damn building run by the wrong damn people.

willis may be old. he may have spent the last 20 years of his life in prison. his wife may be dead, his old apartment bulldozed to make room for some gentrified apartment building, and he may have nothing but the clothes on his back- but willis still had his mouth. and that opened a world of possibilities.

jason was taller, broader. he looked disturbingly like willis' father which meant he probably looked a lot like willis.

his hands were thick and calloused, scarred over from hard work as he stood in the doorway in a wife beater and low hanging sweatpants.

willis knew what it felt like to have no lost love for a father. so he just says what it would've taken him to open his door to his father if he'd somehow come back from the dead.

jason's home is cluttered, stacks of books and knickknacks littering shelves and low tables. it's full. but full in a way that willis can tell the home is well loved and occupied. there are paintings and posters on the wall along with pictures. little details are scattered throughout the home that tell willis his son does not live alone. and he's right when he spots the curious figure lingering at the entrance to the kitchen.

willis nearly feels his breath hitch at the sight of the other person. from a certain distance, from an angle...they almost looked like cathy. short dark hair, small figure, soft sloped hips, pretty pink lips, big wet doe-like eyes, long curled lashes...

looks like his son had gotten himself a nice little woman to keep him company in this cozy little house of his.

a clench of something warm and wanting swirled in willis' gut but he pushed it down. no. he could think more on that once he was comfortable and secured a bed.

jason was reluctant. he was recently married, had started some new job at a city planning office, and had just started settling down with his little wife that introduced himself as 'tim'.

saying the right words to squirm his way in comes natural to willis, no amount of time locked up could change that, and jason's little wife also helps.

just like cathy. having faith in a stranger's words, believing that people were better than they actually were.

jason doesn't give in too easily though. willis wouldn't have either.

but willis gets the spare bedroom in the apartment and jason warns him its temporary, just until he gets on his feet and so the parole officer doesn't get on his ass about it.

willis would admit it was nice to have the privacy of a room. a bed that wasn't more of a gym mat than mattress and running hot water whenever he wanted. jason rarely left the home those first few weeks, eyes always locked on willis when he'd come out of the room. more than once he'd dump a newspaper on willis' lap and tell him to start searching the classifieds, that plenty of people were willing to hire ex-cons.

apparently jason's little wife knew better than anyone since he worked for a charity helping underprivileged youths. it must have given him some divine need to help because he often helped willis fill out job applications after willis pretended to struggle reading the words printed on the newsprint.

the night after willis' perceived illiteracy some part of jason seemed to have lightened up. he and jason are washing up the dishes when jason quietly inquired.

"can you really not read?"

of course willis could. he wasn't some kind of fucking moron.

but it seemed to earn sympathy points from people. after all there was nothing more uncomfortable seeing a grown man struggle to read. it makes people not view someone as much of a threat.

its probably part of the reason why jason starts lightening up a little. starts making short trips out of the apartment to do errands while willis remained on his best behavior.

willis was good at maintaining the facade. he'd done it for 20 years in prison, pretending to be a browbeaten, meek, mouse of a man that stuttered so hard he nearly passed out when confronted.

it had been a different kind of humiliation to endure that for 20 long years. being used as entertainment by bigger fish who'd chortle and laugh as willis had to pretend to nearly piss in pants in fear just at being spoken to.

but he'd done it. so he could survive.

being demeaned and degraded day in and day out did something to a man''s brain.

it changed him biologically. made it so the minute he got something he wanted he did anything he could to keep it.

willis was still living under his son's roof, was still at the mercy of his benevolence. was still stuck in a little room without any real freedom.

his son might believe they were reconciling to an extent but jason was still a man in his own home and that meant he couldn't help but try to make willis prostrate.

willis listens to his son fuck his little wife from the next room with a throbbing cock in hand.

20 years was a long time to go without pussy. cathy was long gone but there had been no one who compared to her hot little cunt that had stretched so good around him.

willis pumped his cock listening to breathy moans and high pitched whines of jason rocking into his whore, imagining the stretch of little timmy's cunt over his cock, thinking of fucking him so hard that tender pussy would be bruised and red from the force of it all.

willis can feel his self control start to slip.

going in and taking his son's woman was highly risky and could land him out on the streets again.

but willis didn't know how many more nights he could take before his hand wasn't enough.

then willis reconnects with old acquaintances. ones who haven't changed at all.

no suspicion is drawn about him going out for a beer with old "friends". not that willis would ever consider any of the trash he surrounded himself with as anything more than 'associate'.

but they do have their uses. like one of the men who mainly dealt near the colleges and financial areas.

its not hard to score a few pills from him.

willis crushes them to a fine powder in his room using two heavy books until he had a baggy small enough to fit up his sleeve. from there it was a matter of waiting.

waiting for the next time jason would go out for a few hours.

the gods must be smiling down on willis because he catches a break.

a problem at one of the sites jason works at has had a problem and he'll be gone until the next morning fixing it.

willis doesn't act immediately even though every part of him wants to. he waits until it's lunch and prepares a glass of fruit juice for tim as usual, bringing it to him with every bit of forced casualness as he can.

tim is working and takes occasional sips of the juice and bites of a sandwich while willis hovers nearby, waiting.

eventually the pills kick in.

tim starts shifting. his head starts lolling side to side as tim massages the back of his neck. hands start scratching at the edges of his clothes and wiping away sudden sweat.

when tim stands up with a low call of 'bathroom' but then stumbles- that's when willis swoops in.

bootleg pollen was stupidly easy to obtain. it was untraceable in a tox screen, had a half life of 45 minutes, could be ingested orally, snorted, or absorbed through the skin, was borderline impossible to overdose on, increased body temperature, and made sex so much hotter.

willis had only heard whispers of it, mostly from men who were serving sentences for having used it and how they said it was fully worth it with wistful looks.

willis couldn't help but agree with them as he sank with ease into a dipping little pussy with a relieved gasp that ripped out of him. willis had to just sit there for a little, eyes closed and just feeling the vice of a hot cunt all around his cock. jason's woman let out a soft whine and little murmurs under him, his limbs lax and heavy as his head tilted one way and the other. his brows were furrowed and eyes closed as he softly squirmed, soft bottom inching away until willis reached down and pulled him closer, forcing more of his cock in until he was fully bottomed out. willis felt his pelvis be pressed flush to soft little baby cunt and how nice of jason's woman to keep himself so beautifully waxed.

willis started slow, grinding and grunting against the neck of jason's woman, trying to hold him back from going too fast for fear of cumming too quickly. but that thought left just as soon as it came and willis started furiously fucking the hole under him, insides desperate for release. willis had all day to take his time but for the moment he was going to make up for 20 years worth of fucking.

jason's woman was quite the champ. usually after a few rounds willis was getting pushed away by exhausted broads who'd whine about being too tired to keep going.

not cathy though. never his cathy, no she always let willis go for as long as he wanted until he was satiated. she'd wrap her arms around him and hold him to her while willis fucked her cunt full of load after load. even if she wouldn't be able to move in the morning, even if her cunt would be bruised to the heavens- she'd just press a kiss to willis's forehead and thank him.

god he fucking missed her. 20 years and he hadn't even known they'd buried her in some nameless fucking plot under a number instead of her name.

jason's woman looked so much like her. those pretty eyes, that soft hair, those full cheeks.

god his cathy hadn't aged a day.

willis snapped his hips into a whining cathy a little faster, letting her tilt her head back while he panted over her, nowhere near as young as he used to be.

willis pressed their faces together just like he used to when they'd spend all of saturday and sunday just fucking in their shoebox apartment. willis felt his breath grown heavier as he pumped his cock into cathy, her cunt letting out a wet thick noise everytime he tugged out.

"gnnn, cathy baby i missed you-" and he had, god willis had. he'd never had a good thing in his life but cathy oh fuck his cathy was the only worthwhile thing he'd ever had.

he's borderline lightheaded as his hips stutter, chest tightening and jaw clenching as he tightens his bruising grip on the hips of the hole under him until he's spilling and flooding hot cum into the welcoming womb below him.

willis isn't sure how long he lies there, fucking and cumming and filling a womb with his cum. it must be hours, maybe the whole the day. everytime jason's woman starts struggling a little harder, willis reaches under the couch for the baggy and dumps some over his face, pinching his nose so he has no choice but to swallow and then he's wet and loose all over again.

willis is so focused on it and lost in the sensations he doesn't hear the key in the front door turning. doesn't hear the boots and the steps. doesn't hear how they freeze, how they pause and then start moving rapidly in his direction faster and faster.

willis didn't know jason kept guns. he just assumed his son was too much of a pussy about them. but he was wrong. if he'd checked the closet beside the door or underneath the table by the kitchen he would've found the legally registered, fully loaded fire arm.

willis only sees it when he's ripped back and off tim, the glint of the metal the last thing he sees before jason empties the clip into his head.

willis is not present for the fallout, to see the way he has permanently re-traumatized his son.

his son who had believed his piece of shit father's words about reconciling, the piece of shit father he invited to his home, the piece of shit father he left with his wife, the piece of shit father he arrived home to find raping his wife.

jason is not alright. he's only ever been disappointed by father's his whole life- he should've known better. the moment his father refused to get revenge on his murder should've been the only sign he needed to know better. but jason was just determined to shoot himself in the foot everytime.

and now tim was paying the price for jason's stupidity as well.

jason is meticulous in cleaning the apartment. tim was already unconcious by the time jason arrived, pollen was scattered all beside his head.

so jason rests him on the couch and covers him with a sheet, careful to wipe between his legs to catch...emissions.

tim will awake from the pollen and remember nothing from it and maybe that will be a mercy. the only one to remember what happened will be jason whole cleaned his father's splattered brains off the wall. jason gathers what's left of the corpse and takes it out to an abandoned bridge overseeing one of the rivers in gotham that drains to the ocean.

he weighs each of his father's limbs down with a cinder block and pushes him off the railing. when his parole officer passes by jason will tell him he hadn't even known his father got out of prison.

jason cleans tim carefully, tenderly. he only has to hold himself over the toilet to dry heave once after he'd finished scraping his father's cum out of his wife.

in the morning tim wakes up in pain and delirious with a fever from the pollen.

jason tells him what happened and holds him while he cries but its hard to be traumatized over something you can't remember. its more the paranoia and the thoughts of wondering what happened that drive the depression.

weeks later the parole officer arrives looking for jason's father and it takes everything jason has to remain calm.

another few weeks and jason and tim decide they can't continue to live in their little apartment and they move. another few weeks and tim's period doesn't come and dread fills them both as they realize that it's unlikely that willis was able to get real pollen that it was likely bootleg pollen, the ones that had the effect of forcing people into ovulation.

they think about getting rid of it, they think about ignoring how they've been trying for a baby but have had no luck because jason was essentially a cadaver powered by kiddie pool magic.

they think of not going through with it.

but in the end they can't bring themselves to. they've wanted a baby so badly for so long. they can't do it.

its hard to come to terms with. they tell no one about willis, its easy because they'd told none of the family he'd been staying with them.

they assume jason is the father and he is. jason has been slowly training his mind to disregard the technicalities of genetics, to ignore how if bruce or anyone ever ran a scan on his and tim's baby they'd find he's closer to jason's half brother than son.

they ignore it. they celebrate tim's pregnancy and prepare with all the joy they were holding in for their baby.

and they're happy.

it takes awhile but they are.

their baby is born pink and screaming with a thick head of hair and the most gorgeous little eyes. she has the same little dimple as jason does when she smiles and dick coos over it when he comes to visit them.

"oh she looks so much like her daddy!"

the words only cause the slightest of aches but it fades when jason hears his daughter giggle.

they were good. they were happy.

at the very least willis had been good for one thing in his miserable life.

tim heard him say that and gave him a small, soft look before leaning up to kiss him.

two things, tim would whisper before bending down to give their baby another kiss.

jason pretended like the words didn't choke him up and rested his head on tim's, holding him close while they listened to their sleeping baby take soft, slow breaths.

[toomanyfandoms11]

Background on the Tim hiring Deathstroke thing in this https://www.tumblr.com/toomanyfandoms11/749474013724721152/toomanyfandoms

In my little universe that I like to maladaptive daydream in basically, Janet Drake, Slade Wilson, and Wade Wilson are all siblings.

Janet is the oldest child, and thefore according to family tradition the only child that cannot legally be linked to any crime (plz ask me about the Drake family lore. Also, Jack was the one killed by Captain Boomerang ).

Slade and Wade are twins, (their father had a sense of humor and their mother was too out of it to complain.) and bear the title of murder uncles.

Getting to the Joker bit: when Jason was being killed by the Joker, Tim was on a “family holiday”(training trip) to upstate New York (X-Mansion, most of the X-Men were too afraid to ask about the 10 year old that followed Deadpool around except for Wolverine, who taught him how to skin a moose, and Madelyne Pryor for some reason) and as a result did not learn about his death until about a month or so after it happened.

When Tim learned about his death he decided to wait a bit for Batman to settle down, thinking that he just needed to get the anger stage of grief out of the way and then he would go to therapy like a normal person. Tim was the sort of kid that would read the picture books about getting over grief when he was waiting in the doctors office.

Unfortunately, there were no picture books about superhero phycology. After about few months, Batman showing no signs of stopping and expressing his grief like a normal person, Nightwing finding out about Jason’s death through a newspaper tabloid and the two of them having an argument on top of the Gcpd station that was live-streamed by anyone with a phone and became headline news for a week, Tim decided to take matters into his own hands and hire his current favorite uncle (Wade had recently given him a pair of socks as a gift instead of the forensics book he wanted) and ask him politely (blackmail him with the time Slade had given him coffee while babysitting) to kill the Joker, “Pretty please Uncle Slade? I’ll make you cookies!”

Slade accepted this offer and went (with no small amount of glee/relief) to finally put a bullet through that waste of carbon’s skull. But, alas, Paul Verlaine (King of Assassins, Executive in the Port Mafia, Ex-Titans member and former boyfriend of Nightwing) got there first. After this, Tim’s story goes the route you would expect (with a twist~). After one too many times of Batman putting criminals in the ICU instead of talking to a therapist, Tim decides enough is enough and goes to Nightwings apartment in Bludhaven to ask him to arrange an intervention for Batman with the Justice League, or he will release Batman and Nightwings identity’s to the public.

Dick Grayson, after hearing this, dose not go “This seems like Bruce’s problem” and drop him off at the Batcave. He instead goes “who’s sassy lost child is this”, has the Bat-adoption gene arise for the first time, and decides that he will adopt this child who ran around Gotham alone stalking Batman and Robin, or die trying.

Janet, after talking with the man who drove her child back from Bludhaven at 4:30 am, is slightly leaning towards the second option, but she knows that A. Jack is a terrible father, and while she tries her best, she is also not winning mom of the year anytime soon and B. Shared custody is a thing.

And so, after 3 sword fights (one for each Drake-Wilson sibling), 5 panicked calls to Alfred about “Holy frick I’m turning into Bruce”, many late nights studying “how do I parent a 10 year old”, 1 realization of “holy **** I really do want to be a parent”, and a very well paid lawyer ( Matt Murdock), Dick Grayson becomes the legal parent of a one Timothy Drake, with the media explanation (that is true, but deleteing the superhero parts) being that Janet and Jack realized that they could not be the parents the Tim deserved to have, and that Dick Grayson could. (They got alternating weekends and cultural holidays (Jack is Chinese).

After a month or so, Dick takes Tim to meet Bruce (Dick did the intervention thing, it took the combined forces of Superman, Wonder Woman, Black Canary, Alfred, and Catwoman to get him to go to therapy.) and in the meeting Tim cheerfully reveals that A. He had figured out Batman and Robins secret identities when he was 9 (He went to a gala that the Wayne’s were at, and Dick did a quadruple somersault off of a chandelier that Tim remembered Nightwing doing) and B. He once hacked into Shield on accident when he was looking for a website that had a show he liked on it

[jonathan-samuel-smith]

I wonder what Jon's accent sounds like, he moved from California to upstate Massachusetts and then to what we can probably assume is the Boston area. His mom is from all over the states and his dad is from Kansas. But he was under 11 when he moved to metropolis and my first generation indian-american (India like the country to be absolutely crystal clear) math teacher once told me that accents solidify at 11.

I think it's fun to imagine he's got a mishmash of an accent and says each word in the accent he first learned it in, maybe he even has some really obscure and/or insulting words he speaks in Damian's accent. OTOH in the age of TV, American accents tend to be very Hollywood because we grow up watching people from there, and he's already from California originally.

Some people say Dami speaks unaccented English but there is, in fact, no such thing. Since he's from the Himalayas his accent is likely either a British accent if they were going for sounding assimilated or a South Asian accent (though I can't really decide which specific dialect would be closest to the league's). He is an expert at vocal mimicry so he could choose to adopt any accent, and he might have chosen an upper class gotham accent for himself, in which case his inner speech would determine his accent.

If he thinks to himself in Arabic he probably talks with an Arabic accent when he speaks without thought. If he thinks to himself in English it's either a gotham accent or his own, but I think it would be his own since when he first came to Gotham he would have seen assimilating as an elaborate role to act rather than authentic. British accent would also be supported by the fact that Bruce has a slight British accent from being raised by Alfred and Alfred has a full British accent. And of course it could also be a mishmash of upper class gotham, carnie (from Dick), British, and Arabic.

Reblog with your personal headcanons of how they sound!

[arabriddler]

Oswald's Origin-- Part 2

(Previous)

Despite growing up poor in The Narrows, Oswald had an... alright life. Sure there are holes at the bottom of his shoes, the patch his mother had sown into his shirt is too girly, and the kids bully him often, but his mother did all she could to make his life...well...bearable.

She juggled many Jobs to keep them afloat. They kept a jar in the middle of their apartment where they'd collect any extra bit of money in. It was to afford admitting Oswald to school. It was a slow process, the money they had barely kept them afloat, and Gertude loved Oswald dearly, if he ever wanted something, she'd get it for him, even if she had to steal it.

Oswald grew up poor, sure, but at least she can help make him happy. Still, raising a child in the narrows as a single mother was scary. She took him with her everywhere, often too scared to leave him alone and unattended. There are many homeless kids around The Narrows, like that Selina child, and she'd hate for her son to end up like that. This proved to be helpful. While adjustment was hard for Gertude, it's easier for Oswald considering he was a child. He learned the language quickly and often helped translate or negotiate things in behalf of his mother. He learned responsibility at a young age.

One day, Gertude announced that their lives will take a drastic change for the better. She got a Job upstate working as a maid for The Flacones. They offered her a little room in their mansion and she could bring Oswald along. Life was a little better there. There was plenty of food, clothes, and the jar started filling up a little better. Oswald was twelve when his mother started working at Falcone's. The realized he's too old for school now, but they can use the money in the jar for university.

Oswald enjoyed his stay at the Falcone estate. Falcone had two kids, Sofia and Alberto. Alberto was often coddled by his father as the next in line as head of the family, Sofia was ... left out. Oswald got along with her. They'd sneak into the don's study and listen to the dealings of the Gotham underworld. Sofia was smart and she wanted to be the head of the family, especially since Alberto didn't want to ( but the don wouldn't have it ). Oswald was inspired too, he wanted to grow up to own a mansion and be as powerful as the don, untouchable.

Sofia was... special. She was bullied too because she was born with a strong giant build. Despite that, she liked dressing up in beautiful dresses and put make up on. She encouraged Oswald to join her. It's nice to look at yourself at the mirror and realize how beautiful you are despite what people say.

Oswald was 17, jar halfway full, when things went bad. Some rich kids were playing near the Falcone estate and one of them had a textbook. Oswald was simply curious when he asked what the book was about. The kids refused to tell him and started calling him name, which he ignored, but when they started calling his mother names...well. He attacked them, but they were too many, and soon their older siblings joined and beat Oswald and broke his ankle.

Gertude couldn't tell Falcone about this, he'd kick them out! she took Oswald to a clinic but she didn't have enough money to treat his leg, even if she sacrificed all the money in the jar. She had to steal some from Falcone, not much, but only some.

Yet, she was caught red handed, and they were kicked out immediately. The Don values loyalty after all.

( next )

[lfthinker]

The worst of the worst that Gotham has to offer are going to Hell. Directly to Hell. Do not pass go. Do not collect $200. All but one. One will be spared and sent instead to the Phantom Zone. Or a nice farm upstate. Whatever. Pick that one.

[prfctparis]

I’d Give You My Lungs So You Could Breathe (I’ve Got You, Brother) [CH3]

AO3 Link / One / Prev / Next / Masterlist

summary:

Danny Fenton was adopted at age ten, with little to no memories about his former family. At age fourteen, he died yet lived and those memories began to return. He didn’t do anything about those memories – didn’t plan to, at least not yet – but then he got captured by the GIW, saved by his friends and someone who might be his sister who he only somewhat remembered, and taken to Gotham to, apparently, his biological father for safety until further notice.

Team Phantom was there, too, and they did not sign up for this family drama.

a/n:

“ch3 will be up in a few days,” i said, like a lying liar who lies. i meant to!!! but then i sort of forgot and then got distracted by another fic i’m in the middle of writing mlmao oops. so i won’t promise or say when ch4 will be up, bc this was the last of my already written chapters from ao3 & my update schedule is of the 'when i can and want to' variety. hope u guys on tumblr enjoy this chapter!! :)

warnings for the entire fic:

canon-typical violence of the DC variety; angst; memory loss/repressed memories; do i need to say major character death(s) or is that just a given for this fandom; questionable parenting tho every parent is trying to do good & care for the kids; implied/referenced past child abuse bc of the child assassin backgrounds; pls tell me if i missed something

CHAPTER SPECIFIC WARNINGS: blood; stressed teenagers; athanasia has a borderline panic attack; vivisection is mentioned again but only once if i remember right; implied animal death but in the past & it’s like 1 paragraph

CHAPTER THREE —

The secret, new headquarters of the Ghost Investigation Ward was in upstate New York. The Wayne Manor was in Gotham City, New Jersey. The travel from Point A to Point B was about three hours and forty minutes long – a much longer drive than any of them wanted. But with Manson’s magic, the van stayed invisible to the human eye and Wesley was able to speed down the roads without cops chasing after them, cutting down the travel time immensely.

Still, it was a risk.

But stopping some place before they got to Gotham was also a risk. One Athanasia refused to take.

Maybe if Ra’s al Ghul hadn’t been there, would she allow them to stop at a roadside motel or something. But he was there. He had been in the room where they were operating on Danny. Mother had one of her servants save Danny from death eight years ago to get him out of the League, allowing Grandfather to believe he was dead, but now he knew.

And Athanasia wasn’t going to let that man get anywhere near close to her twin brother again. So, they weren’t going to stop until they made it to Wayne Manor.

The others weren’t happy about it. She didn’t care.

Of course, that didn’t mean she was happy about it, either.

Believe her, she wanted to stop sooner. She wanted to get to a place where they could properly take care of Danny’s injuries, and give him what he needed to heal, and take those damn power repressing cuffs off. All they could do was make sure the bandages on his chest stayed put and kept too much blood from bleeding out, and made sure that he didn’t die on the way to the manor, which was more difficult than Athanasia would like, seeing as though, as Phantom, he didn’t have a heartbeat.

Eventually, they got the cuffs off. It took a while, and it was mostly done by Foley and Gray, because Athanasia was busy bandaging her own wounds with the limited supplies in the van, and Manson was focused on keeping the van invisible while Wesley drove. They succeeded, though. Once both cuffs were off, a ring of light appeared around him and with a flash he had black hair again, and green blood turned red.

His healing factor didn’t kick in.

“What do you mean he isn’t healing?” Wesley asked, worried, when Foley informed them. “He should be.”

“I don’t know,” Foley said, tone unsure and worried.

“But he has a heartbeat now, right?” asked Athanasia. She kept her eyes on her thigh as she bandaged a wound on there. It wasn’t the best, and she didn’t have anything to clean the wound with, but it would have to do for now.

Gray replied, “Yeah. He’s got one.”

“Okay. Good.” It was the only thing she could get herself to say. The possibility of still being too late to save him, even with him now away from the GIW and LoA, put a restrictive weight on her chest. It lessened with Gray’s affirmation, but not much.

They made it to Gotham in just under two hours and fifteen minutes.

Athanasia only got a split second glimpse of the city’s poorly lit up welcome sign with how fast Wesley continued to drive. Truly a speed demon; he didn’t even slow down when they got into the city’s limits.

As they crossed one intersection, a car with goons hanging out of the windows holding guns sped through it behind them, with what looked to be Red Robin and Spoiler on motorcycles on their tail. Three cops sped through right after. Gun shots rang out as they disappeared behind a building.

“Watch out for vigilantes,” she said. “It’s around the time most start coming out.”

Wesley shook his head. “I can’t imagine having more than one vigilante.”

Gray pointedly cleared her throat.

“I can’t imagine having more than two vigilantes.”

She hummed. “Forget about me again and see what happens.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Athanasia laughed quietly to herself. It wasn’t quiet enough, because he still heard and gave her the stink eye. It was hardly intimidating

Foley hissing made her look into the back seats. He was shaking his left hand, expression a grimace of pain, as he hurriedly passed the vial of liquid Athanasia had taken from the IV to Gray. Gray took it just as fast, twisting the lid back on.

“Shit.”

“What’s wrong?” Athanasia asked.

“They were putting that in his system?” The grimace turned into panic when she nodded. “Oh, that’s not good. That is so not good. That has blood blossoms in it.”

“What?!” Gray exclaimed. “That can kill him!”

Athanasia shifted so she sat sideways in the front seat. “What are blood blossoms?” Her eyes flicked to Danny ��� his chest slowly rose up and down – and then back to Foley.

“They can kill ghosts,” Wesley said gravely.

Foley explained, “They’re a blood red flower, have purple stems – humans can eat them. But for ghosts, they cause extreme pain and make them go powerless. Exposed to enough of it, they die. To people like me and Sam, who aren’t ghosts but have been exposed to ectoplasm for years, it just burns us. Like we touched a hot stove, or something.” He motioned to the vial. “That just felt like bee sting for me, but to Danny? It probably feels like he’s being slowly burned from the inside out.”

“It sounds like they made an oil from blood blossoms and diluted it until it wasn’t so strong,” Gray said.

“Strong enough to render him powerless, but weak enough to not kill him after long exposure,” Athanasia said, and the two of them nodded.

“Sounds like it.”

“That may be why he isn’t healing fast like he should,” Wesley suggested.

Foley cursed again. “This is so not good. We need to get it out of his system, like, yesterday.”

“How do we do that?”

Silence stretched between them.

Athanasia’s brows furrowed, incredulous and frustrated. And scared. “You don’t know?” she demanded.

“It– It’s never been in his bloodstream before!” Foley defended. “He’s only been near the flowers, so we just…moved him away from them. Or them from him. This is… We’ve never dealt with this before!”

“But you should have at least had a contingency plan for this,” she bit back. “Oils from flowers and plants are common!”

“We never thought the GIW would be smart enough for that!”

“Well, you should have!”

“Hey!” Gray shouted over them, “Enough! This isn’t helping Danny. Let’s just get to your dad’s place, yeah?”

Athanasia turned back around without another word. The movement pulled at her injuries, maybe even reopened the wound on her side, but she ignored them as she got out her communicator.

No one spoke for a few seconds.

“The device you are using to block the signals…” she started.

“I already said no,” Foley muttered, tone clipped. “It’s blocking his ecto-signature, too. I’m not risking unblocking it just so you can make a call.”

“You didn’t risk stopping, Ana,” Wesley said before she could respond. “Let us not risk this.”

There was a tightness in her throat that had been building up for the last ten minutes. It kept her from speaking; if she wanted to or even had a response, she couldn’t say it. She worked her jaw, ignoring the stinging in her eyes.

One brother was behind her near death, with a large incision that needed to be stitched. Her other brother was out in the city fighting crime, who knows in what type of danger in the crime capital of America.

She just wanted to know that at least one of them was okay.

It was as they went through another intersection, barely making it through a green light, when she noticed an unmistakable large, black shadow swing from one side of the road to the next.

“Stop the van,” she choked out.

“But–”

“Stop the van!”

Wesley slammed on the breaks. The ones in the back went tumbling, and she heard Manson let out a curse, concentration on the van’s invisibility broken after over two hours.

Athanasia got out of the van as fast as possible. She raced to the other side of the road and climbed skillfully up the fire escape on the side of a building. As she got to the roof, she spotted the figure speaking to another – red and black – in the shadows.

“Batman!”

Both figures turned. She dimly registered that the person Batman had been speaking to was Red Hood.

“Yes? What is it?” Batman questioned as he stepped forward.

Red Hood followed. The way his helmet tilted a little told her he recognized her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Athanasia made it halfway across the roof before she faltered. Her father was…an imposing man. If she hadn’t grown up in the place she did, she would probably be fearful of him because of it. Instead it just caught her off guard. Seeing him in person, up close, was…

Well. Unexpected.

She blinked and forced herself to stay on track. To not get distracted. She stopped a few or so feet away, wary to get too close. “We need your help,” she started off with. “My…acquaintances and I – we have someone who needs medical attention that only the Batcave will be able to provide for, and I need you to take us there.”

“The Batcave,” he repeated.

“Yes. A regular hospital is out of the question.” Her eyes flickered around the roof. Something wasn’t right. “I would take him there myself but I do not know where it is.”

What wasn’t right?

“I have no idea who you are. You aren’t authorized to go to the Batcave.”

“You would make an exception for us.”

“You sound sure.”

“Because I am. Just help us help him!”

“Who is ‘him’?”

“B, I don’t think it’s time for an interrogation right now,” Red Hood said.

“My…” Athanasia stilled. She knew what wasn’t right. Her entire body tensed. “Where’s Robin?”

Her father’s posture changed. Right; Batman was protective of Robin.

But as his older sister, so was she.

“Out,” he said. “Listen, you’re injured, and I understand you need help but–”

“What do you mean ‘out’? As in patrolling? Out of town? Country? Earth itself?”

Red Hood took a step towards her. “Whoa, kid, relax. It’s okay–”

“Where Robin is isn’t your business–”

Red Hood muttered a curse.

“Not my business?” she seethed. “Knowing where he is, is most definitely my business. I am not asking for dental records – it’s a simple answer to a simple question.”

“I–”

“My twin brother is dying in the backseat of a van, and my little brother is not by our father’s side like I thought he would be, so please just tell me where he is so I know at least one of them will be okay! I–”

“Hey! Hey,” Red Hood interrupted. “Robin is okay! He’s okay, alright? I promise. He twisted his ankle pretty badly the other night and the old man benched him until it’s healed. That’s all. You can breathe, kid.”

“I am.” Barely. It felt like she had been running for hours. She was out of breath; her intake of air had increased in the past few minutes. Her throat was back to being tight, but so was her chest, this time.

“Yes, you are, but your breathing is too fast,” Red Hood said. “You need to slow down–”

“There is no time to slow down!” she shouted. Her feet moved backwards when Red Hood tried to come closer to her. “I had the GPS taking us to the manor, but it’s worse off than we thought, and I would take him to the Batcave if I knew where it was–”

“How many of you are there?”

Athanasia blinked rapidly. Out of surprise, not because she was about to cry. She snapped her eyes back up to her father. “What?”

“You said you had acquaintances with you. How many?” He was doing something on his gauntlet, a hologram-like screen faintly glowing above it. She tried to make out the words backwards but gave up pretty quickly.

“Six in total,” she said. “Myself included. They do not know your identity.”

He hummed. “Are all of you injured?”

“Except for one, my– our getaway driver. Danny is the worst off.”

“Hard to believe, you’re pretty banged up yourself, kid,” Red Hood muttered, with a small motion to her entire body.

“They vivisected him.” The words hadn’t meant to come out, but they did.

Batman and Red Hood stilled.

The latter sucked in a breath of air. “Jesus.”

“The Batmobile is on its way,” her father tensely informed her. He stalked forward, and she was expecting him to walk passed her so she was thoroughly surprised when he stopped in front of her. He raised a hand and her body tensed for another time that night. She didn’t know what she was else expecting, but it wasn’t a comforting hold on her shoulder; it wasn’t a comforting tone and assurance. “Your brother is okay. Your twin is going to be okay.”

Athanasia stared at the hand on her shoulder. It took a second or two to finally tear her gaze from it, and look at her father’s cowl covered face instead.

“I promise.”

+++

The sound of footsteps gradually becoming louder alerted him that someone was about to disrupt his peace.

“Hey, I’m going to bed.”

Peace officially disrupted.

Damian looked up from his sketchbook long enough to spot Duke Thomas poking his head into the living room, before focusing back on the drawing he was working on. “Okay.”

“And Bruce wanted me to remind you to finish your homework if you haven’t already.”

He sighed. “I have.”

“And Alf says no sweets if you have any snacks.”

“Okay,” he said, annoyance seeping through.

“And they both say not to stay up too late or walk too much on your ankle–”

“Leave me be and rest your empty skull on the warm side of your pillow before I stab this pencil through your jugular.”

Thomas snickered. It occurred to him, then, that the older teen had continued on to annoy him on purpose. It worked. That annoyed Damian even more.

“Alright, alright. I’m leaving,” Thomas said through another chuckle. “Goodnight, Damian!” he called as he walked off.

He huffed. “Goodnight.”

Duke Thomas was Father’s newest addition to his ever growing brood. The older boy wasn’t adopted (at least, not yet), only fostered. His parents were still alive – just victims of Joker Venom. They found a cure, although it wasn’t instantaneous, so Elaine and Doug Thomas were slowly healing and recovering with the help of professionals while their son stayed here.

Damian was sort of surprised he was still here. He had an uncle he could go to, and who he did visit often, but he had chose to stay. Not that Damian wanted him to go – he actually didn’t mind Thomas that much anymore. He liked to think they got along well, even if sometimes the atmosphere was awkward, or when they deliberately annoyed one another.

Recently when the two either merely existed in the same room doing nothing, or ventured into the city out of boredom, Drake tagged along. Or was the one to drive them around. It had been tense at first. It was less so, now. Damian truly didn’t know how to feel about it.

He stopped drawing and stared at the page. He erased a few lines that didn’t look right and grabbed his phone, unlocking it to study the reference picture he was using. Just as he was about to put it down, his phone vibrated with a text.

It was from Drake – in the groupchat he made that included himself, Damian, and Duke. Damian tried to leave it multiple times only for Drake to add him back every single time.

drake

hey

evrrhthing ok at the manor??

thomas

yeah

i’m about to go to bed, damian is sketching in the living room & alfred is in the basement

why

is something wrong?

drake

idk but b is heading back

w jason

neither have have said a word they wont answer

thomas

that’s sus

you guys have only been gone for what?? 45 min at least

drake

yea

barbara cant even get ahold of them

hey little d

bat brat

u sure ur ok

Damian rolled his eyes. Drake was almost as bad as Father and Richard when it came to hovering if he got hurt, the buffoon simply showed it differently. He only twisted his ankle; nothing major.

And if his back had been hurting him the past week, nobody had to know.

…Except for Pennyworth and Richard. They knew of the metal in his spine and the damaged nerves, and so he told them when the sharp aches and pains kept coming back.

Alfred insisted it was just a few nerves growing back.

Damian focused back to the groupchat. Drake had resorted to spamming it because he took too long to respond. Obnoxious plebeian.

He took a picture of his legs covered by the blanket he was using. One knee was propped up to angle his sketch book right, while the other was stretched out as his injured ankle rested on a small pillow. Alfred the cat was fast asleep, curled into a circle, on the arm of the couch, while Titus made himself small enough to lay on the couch beside his outstretched leg. He sent the picture with nothing else. Drake stopped his spamming and liked it while Thomas sent another text asking what Damian was drawing.

With that, he put his phone down – only for it to start vibrating repeatedly. A phone call.

He somewhat expected it to be Drake, but still wasn’t that surprised to see it was Father, instead.

“Father?” Damian answered the call. “Drake said you were heading back. With Todd.”

“Yes.” Father’s voice was rough, but in a distinct way that Damian knew it wasn’t his Batman voice. In the background he heard the rumble of the Batmobile. “We are. And we have some company with us.”

His brows lowered. “Is everything okay?”

Silence.

Damian sat up and tucked his foot under his other leg’s thigh. Titus shifted, getting off of the couch to lay on the floor instead. “Father?” Carefully, he closed his sketchbook and set it on the coffee table.

Thomas decided to walk back in, at that moment. “Hey, I…” He trailed off when he saw that Damian was on the phone. “Is that Bruce?”

“Father, is–”

“Do you have an older sister?”

Damian froze. He even stopped breathing for a second. Did he know? If he did, how? Was it Mother, was she in Gotham? Did she tell Father? Athanasia told him not to tell him or anyone else, and he hadn’t. Why was he asking this? Were they okay?

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Cassandra–”

“I’m not talking about by adoption, son,” Father interrupted. “Biologically, do you have a sister? Or even a brother?”

He involuntarily sucked in sharply. If Father heard it, he didn’t make any indication that he did.

“She would be around Tim’s age, seventeen or eighteen. Five foot eight, ten at most. She mentioned a twin brother.”

Damian kept his eyes on Titus. He ignored Thomas stepping further into the living room to stand near the couch. “I’m not supposed to tell you,” he said. “She said not to.”

“Who? Talia?”

“No.”

“Your sister.” Damian stayed quiet. “Why?”

“I don’t– do not…” How was he supposed to answer that? He had no idea why Athanasia told him not to tell Father, but Damian refused to break the promise he made her. Yes, he wanted to tell Father – all the time, so badly – but it was the last thing Athanasia asked of him. Even the idea of breaking that promise felt wrong. Even now, even though he somehow knew. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, and hated how childlike he sounded.

“…It’s not your fault, chum. We will be at the Cave soon. If– when,” he corrected, “you come down, put on a mask. They have acquaintances who don’t know our secret identities.”

“Yes, sir. Are they okay?”

Father didn’t immediately respond. It sent warning bells through his mind. “We’re about to be at the cave.”

“Wait, Father–”

The call ended.

Damian let out a huff of frustration. He went to call him back, but stopped.

Athanasia was in Gotham. She went to Father for help. Did that mean she called him on the League communicator and he missed it? Did he? It sounded like she needed help, they both did, and he…

Damian vaulted off of the couch. Thomas shouted after him, but he ignored him and the pain in his ankle as ran through the halls and up the stairs to his room. He took the communicator out from its hiding spot under his mattress.

Nothing. No calls or messages. Not a single thing.

Why did she go to Father and not him?

Damian sent a message. It didn’t go through, just like the past hundreds of times. He tried a call, it did the same thing.

“Damian! Don’t run away like that, man, you’re gonna hurt your ankle more,” Thomas reprimanded as he finally caught up. “I’m sorta responsible for you right now, and I don’t feel like getting Alfred’s disappointed look because you’re running around.”

The words went through one ear and out the other.

He cursed in Arabic and tossed the device onto his bed. He snatched an emergency mask from a drawer of his bedside table, and left the room.

“Damian,” shouted Thomas. “Seriously, dude!”

“If you follow me to the Batcave, put on a mask,” Damian said. “We have guests.”

Whatever his foster brother’s response was, Damian didn’t hear it. He rushed down the stairs, simultaneously putting on his mask, and then ran to the study where the clock was. Standing on his toes, he moved the clock’s hands to the correct time and squeezed through before the secret door opened all the way.

As he got to the bottom of the stairs, he slowed. A cacophony of noise grew as he got further into the cave. He stopped on the last step and just stared.

Whatever he had been expecting, it was not a group of injured teenagers talking over each other to his father and the family’s grandfather of a butler. Todd stood a few feet away from the group, back to Damian. He seemed to be merely watching the scene unfold.

“We’ve taken care of him before, we know how to do stitches!” a girl with short black hair shouted. “This isn’t new to–”

“He’s not– you need to let us help,” a black kid argued. “We know what to do for him–”

“I have already seen it!” And there’s Athanasia. “It is not a pretty sight, I know, but I can help–”

“None of you are in shape to help Penny-One,” Batman tried to speak over them.

“I am!” Another girl. She held a red and black helmet in her arms that matched a vigilante-like suit she wore. “Please, just let us–”

“We’re his friends! Please–”

“We– Well, I don’t but they do – they know what to do,” a red headed boy said. “He’s different, you’ll need their–”

A sharp whistle cut through the air, so sudden even Damian flinched. As did Thomas, who appeared at his side the instant it happened.

Everyone quieted immediately, eyes falling to Jason Todd. The helmet was off, but a red domino still covered his eyes.

“Everyone shut up or else it will be too late for anyone to help anybody,” the young man snapped, “Let Penny-One do what he does on a regular basis. I promise, he knows what he is doing, and has seen his fair share of bad injuries between the eerily large brood he cares for. Even if he did need help, it would not be from any of you. Like Batman said, none of you are the right shape to help – either from exhaustion or injuries or both, each one of you looks like shit. So sit your asses down, let the professional do his job, and take a breather.”

No one said a word. No one moved.

“Thank you, Red Hood,” Pennyworth said. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have a patient to care for.” He ducked behind a curtain he and Father were guarding. Damian wasn’t able to get a glimpse of the person behind it.

In the back of his mind, he knew who it was. It didn’t dissuade his worry.

Father stared down the teenagers.

The girl with short black hair and gothic clothes glared harshly back at him. Angry, she spun around with a scoff and stomped over to a chair, a palm on her forehead the entire way.

“Sam,” the black boy called after her and followed. They quietly began talking to each other.

The girl in the red and black suit and the redhead boy glanced at each other. The former shrugged helplessly, and the latter frowned in response, looking away.

Damian finally looked – truly looked – at Athanasia. Todd was right: she looked like shit; they all did. But his big sister had the most blood on her, and a green substance on her hands and right side that had a too close resemblance to Lazarus Pit water. She had numerous injuries that were bandaged hastily, but not enough for all of the blood to be hers. It looked as if she tried to scratch some of it off on the few areas of exposed skin, only for it to not work. Her black hair was in a ponytail that had once been neat; now, curly strands were loose and framing her face, and the ponytail itself was unkempt.

The others didn’t look that much better. Except for the redhead. He just looked stressed and exhausted and worried.

Damian shifted a foot forward, then back to its original spot.

He didn’t know what to do. Say her name? Simply walk up? Run back upstairs? He didn’t want to make a scene, but he also wanted to go up to his sister.

He spotted Ace laying down near the bat-computer. Silently, decision abruptly made, he moved in that direction.

Thomas cleared his throat. “Um… B?”

Damian stopped, freezing behind Todd. He looked over to Thomas and glared. The older teen didn’t acknowledge him other than a split second glance.

“D– Signal? What are you doing down here?”

Todd shifted. Damian moved with him. He turned his head slowly and sent Damian a suspicious side eye.

“Oh, uh… Red Robin contacted us – said you were coming back here. I just want to make sure you don’t need any help,” said Thomas.

Todd reached behind him with the hand that wasn’t holding his helmet, and aimed for Damian. He pinched Todd’s wrist when it got close enough, making him hiss in pain.

“We might– Hood?”

Todd shook his hand. “Sorry. Bug bit me.”

Father continued speaking with Thomas, who walked further into the Cave.

“Brat,” Todd hissed under his breath.

Damian didn’t deign him a response. Once it was clear everyone else was distracted, he continued his way to the bat-computer in the shadows. When he got there, he crawled underneath the desk. Ace moved to lay his head in Damian’s lap.

His hiding spot didn’t stay hidden for long, though.

Someone silently walked over. Then, they crouched down and slotted their body next to his under the desk.

“Did Todd tell you where I am?” he asked. It came out more petulant than he intended.

“No. I saw you when you first came down.”

“Tt.” Damian muttered, “…You smell vile.”

Athanasia hummed. “And you are still short.”

There was a shakiness to her voice he didn’t like. It kept him from automatically responding with another insult.

He turned his head to look at her again.

Her eyes were staring at nothing in particular. Her breathing was a bit too fast for comfort, sort of choppy too. Tension lined her entire body.

“Stretch out your legs,” he said quietly.

She eyed him in question. He motioned for her to hurry up. Hesitant, she eventually did it. Then, he wasted no time in ordering Ace to lay on her legs.

Athanasia sucked in sharply. Her hands lifted to her chest. “Dames–”

“You won’t hurt him,” he interrupted. “He won’t hurt you.”

He was aware of why she was so hesitant – almost afraid, even. She tried to hide it from him, but League trainers had forced her to slaughter animals. Those same trainers did that to him a couple times, too, after she left. Apparently it was to make them stronger and better assassins. Less prone to weaknesses.

He wondered if Dányál had to go through that. If Mother knew.

Damian didn’t think she did, but…

Athanasia kept her hands to her chest.

“So, you found him?” Damian asked. He kept his voice low, and scooted closer to her.

She nodded. “Yes. He is… He will be okay,” she said, keeping her voice low like he did. “I apologize for taking so long.”

Damian didn’t know how to respond to that. It made a flicker of anger from in his chest. She was sorry for being gone for so long, but not for leaving?

“…He isn’t a clone?” was his next question.

“No.” Her arm lifted, and for once he let her pull him into her side in a hug. He wasn’t big on touch, and Athanasia wasn’t either, but she was definitely more tactile than he was in some ways. From what he remembered, she and Dányál had hugged a lot.

“Are you positive?” His mind flashed to Heretic. He held back a wince, twisting until his back was into her side and her arm wrapped around his chest. He had to bend his knees so he could fit all the way under the desk.

“Yes.”

“You made sure of it?”

Athanasia stayed quiet for a moment. He felt her eyes on the top of his head. “I did,” she said. “Penny-One is aiding our brother. Not a clone, or a shapeshifter, or anyone else. Dányál.” She paused. “I intended on going to the manor instead. Then, I saw our father, and demanded he take us here.”

“Why the manor?”

“I did not know where the cave was.”

Damian stared at his knees.

There was no way.

Did he hear that right? It was jarring. He grew up thinking his big sister knew everything.

How did she not know this?

“Athanasia,” he whispered.

“What?”

“The Batcave is below the manor,” he told her in Arabic.

For seven seconds (yes, he counted) Athanasia didn’t say anything. Then, “It is what?!” she hissed in a harsh whisper.

Damian felt a laugh coming up, and did his best to keep it quiet. His shoulders still shook. “You didn’t know?”

“No,” she muttered. “Thank you making me feel stupid.”

“My pleasure. I will be sure to do it again.”

She huffed a small, wet laugh. “Brat.” Her arm wrapped around the front of his chest more, and her hand gripped his shoulder. A second later, he felt her place a kiss on the crown of his head.

Damian couldn’t help but grip her arm back. One hand on her forearm, the other on her bicep. He pressed his knees closer to his body.

“I missed you,” he whispered through the lump in his throat.

She sniffled, and whispered back into his hair, “I missed you, too.”

A blanket of silence fell over them. Damian heard Father speaking to the others, his voice overlapping with Thomas’ and one of Athanasia’s acquaintances. Footsteps softly echoed as they all moved about near the medbay. They should probably go over there soon.

Damian didn’t want to. For the first time in four years it was just him and his big sister, hiding under a desk that was reminiscent of them hiding in an alcove back in the League just to spend time together. It hardly felt real. He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared this was just some sort of dream.

“Can we stay here for a little bit longer?”

Her arm tightened around him again. “Absolutely.”

+++

It took a good while for someone to come look for them, which surprised Damian, but he was relieved and thankful no one came sooner. He wasn’t about to complain about the silent one-on-one time squished underneath the desk, uncomfortable as it was.

It also gave them time to stop any tears they let loose.

He eventually moved out from under her arm, and sat beside her. It took a bit of time. Damian wanted to say it was because he was done with the physical touch, that he let go. The truth of the matter was that he had to force himself to, to mentally talk himself into doing it. It was irrational, but he was scared that the moment he let go she would leave him again.

That didn’t happen. She didn’t get up and leave, or disappear, or anything of the sort. She stayed right beside him.

As he scratched Ace behind the ears, Athanasia merely watched. She kept her hands away from the dog. When he moved to lay down across both of their laps, she stiffened until he stilled, arms crossed over her stomach.

That was how they were found.

The large boots and bottom of a black cape were unmistakable.

Father crouched down, the half of his face that wasn’t covered by the cowl betraying nothing. It made Damian want to squirm. Was he mad? That he kept Athanasia and Dányál a secret?

“You two weren’t easy to find,” he said. He sounded more like Bruce Wayne than Batman. It was comforting, in a way. “Your friends got worried when they didn’t see you around.”

“Acquaintances,” she corrected. “And I am fine, I have no idea why they would worry.”

Damian gave her an incredulous look. “You’re covered in blood.”

“A lot of it does not belong to me.”

“Mostly yours or not, your injuries still need to be taken care of,” Father said. “The Wes kid said you weren’t able to clean them properly.”

Athanasia’s face did something quick and complicated that Damian couldn’t decipher. Her mouth settled into an annoyed frown before he could really question it. “Of course he did,” she muttered.

“And you, chum, need to get off the ground and prop your ankle up,” Father said. The man, with gentle hands, inspected the aforementioned ankle. “With ice. The swelling is worse again. Did you run on it?”

He didn’t want to lie. He didn’t want to admit he ran, either.

“…Maybe.”

“Hn.” Father stood. The joints of his knees popping and a quiet groan didn’t go unnoticed. “Come on out. Let’s get you both some medical attention. Ace, get up, boy. Up.”

The German Shepherd did as told.

“I didn’t do anything to it,” Damian grumbled as he scooted out and pulled himself to his feet with the help of Father’s hand. Putting weight on his ankle definitely hurt worse than it had before, though…

“It won’t hurt to check.”

Athanasia came out from under the desk next. As she stood, also with the help of Father, he noticed she seemed to be in more pain than when he first entered the cave. That made sense; the adrenaline had to have worn off by now, allowing the pain finally register.

Once she was steady on her feet, she stepped a little away from Father. “Thank you,” she said. “For bringing us here.”

“Of course,” Father said. “If you need to stay here, you can. I will even open up the manor to you and your fr– acquaintances. Whatever aids you the best and keeps you safe from whatever you’re running from.”

She nodded once. Her eyes, glassy with tears, blinked rapidly, and she turned to head to the empty medical cots.

Damian watched her, exhausted and hurting, then looked to the curtain hiding away Pennyworth and Dányál.

He tore his eyes away and hurried to follow.

[nevereverthem]

Gotham : Season 1 Episode 3

Earlier than I thought, here I am watching the third episode of the show.

Honestly, I can't wait to see what happens with Oswald because dude kidnapped a guy to ask for ransom... that he did not get. 🤣😭 I'm still not over the mother not believing it AT ALL.

My silly little crush wants to see Alfred so much! 🙄 I'm also all for having Brucey in his emo phase as I like to call it. I know that's not it, but just the 10 seconds frame of Bruce listening to metal-ish singers while doodling on a piece of paper was 🤌.

Selina is going to save her ass, but that sucks for the other kids though! She is one of the main characters, of course, but the other kids got their ass sent upstate! Don't you forget about that. 🥲

Anyway, here we go.

"There's a war coming..." Aaaaahhhhh! Honestly, starting the episode with Oswald's voice as a 'previously in Gotham' sort of thing, warms my heart. 😌

Gotham's streets... A bus... Oswald Cobblepot in a freaking pullover! Man is gonna be wearing a suit most of the time in the future. Let's enjoy these precious moments of him in casual clothing. 😌 The SMUDGE BLACK MAKEUP!! I know the man's got dark undereyes from exhaustion, but still.

Dude sees : Kids stealing a wallet from someone's back pocket. A cop taking money from an old asian guy. A man stealing a woman's bag. Prostitutes proposing their services to a person in a car... And all that Oswald is thinking is "home, sweet home". 🤣🤣😭😭

Okay, the story starting with a rich guy (Ronald Danzer) who did some shit. He's out on bail and plans on paying for his freedom and sneaking out to escape any problems. Like dude! That is sadly a great representation of how it works in real life too... 🙃

Balloons! And did you see that pig mask!? Foreshadowing I guess!? 😏

Oh MY! Cuffed to a balloon and being pulled up in the air!? That's so cool & terrifying at the same time. 😱

💥 INTRO TITLE 💥

Not the same punch as Oswald stabbing someone in the neck, but we'll settle for it.

Jim! 😍

"No body. We're calling it a murder?" I mean... If the guy went up until there was no oxygen available and died... I suppose it is. 🤷‍♀️ We'll see. Or, if he went that far up and then fell... He probably died from the fall... somewhere. So, it would be a murder.

For once, agreeing with Harvey. The man kinda got "what he deserved". I mean... It's a bit strong... But he probably ruined lots of people's lives so...

Bill Cranston... Switches so fast to being angry to having a hypocritical smile on his face... Dude. X) Okay, so the guy does interviews by beating people down with a little statue? I... 🙃

Hey, that's what I said! Two people killed themselves because Ronald Danzer ruined them...

Oh! Jim bringing up the Mario Pepper case! Ah!

Selina! 😌

Did she really steal Harvey's PEN!? 🤣🤣

Selina "I can see in the dark" Kyle. x) Kitty cat Kat

I don't know why, but Jim and Selina facing eachother with both hands on their own hips just makes me laugh. x)

Selina cuffed to a staircase. Legit... She's using the pen she stole to free herself from the cuffs? Damn! Plus, payoff!

Jim in the sewer. Yuk! Shoes in dirty water.

"Son of a bitch! She was telling the truth." 🤣 (Reminds me of Dean from Supernatural iykyk)

"Oh, Detective!" in Selina's sing-song voice. 🤣🤣 How she throws him back the cuffs in the sewer!

Jim's groan of frustration. 🙄

Fish! Oh no, Lazlo got beaten hard damn. 😮

Fish directly telling Montoya and Allen that Jim killed Oswald. Bitch! 🤣🤣 I mean, great move though. That's technically what happened, although he didn't actually do it. I love when the 'bad guys' tell the truth and it does serve their interests.

"Jim Gordon pulled the trigger, but who gave the order?" Yeay! Mama tryna bring Falcone down!!

"I just want justice for little Oswald." 🤣🤣 I would believe the earth is flat more than that blatant lie! 🤣🤣

Speak of the devil... 🙄

Oswald counting coins... What did he do with the guy he kidnapped? For real, are we ever gonna know? I suppose he killed him, but I would like to get some real answers. 😅

Pocket knife. 😭😭 For food at least...

"Hey, Cobblepot! You're supposed to be dead." Fuck! I wasn't expecting that.

"I'm afraid you have me confused. My name is Dimitri-" Still, the way he talks... 🥵 Plus, did he try to pull off a fake accent? x)

Oh no! Each time Oswald pleads not to be killed is... 😮

"I couldn't stay away. Gotham is my home. It's my destiny. You don't see what's coming. I do. Gotham needs me. I'm its future." Dude sounds like a cult prophet. 🤣😭 He's right though. Foreshadowing at its MAX. x)

Ouch! Achilles tendon! 😮 Killed. By the way, how Oswald manages to get rid of guys who should have physical dominance over him always impresses me.

His teeny-tiny walk! 🐧

"Can I have a tuna sandwich please?" Aw, he can be so soft... when he's been so violent ten seconds before. Bro! 🙃 I love the callback to episode 1. The first time he slits the throat of a stranger to steal his sandwich. The second time, he kills a bad guy, takes his money and actually buys the sandwich. 😌 Can someone draw Ozzie eating a tuna sandwich? 🥹 I just love seeing characters do every day activities. 😌

Waynes' manor! 😍 Okay, I might just like little Brucey ☺️ and crush hard on Alfred. 🙄

Alfred teaching Bruce fencing? Aaww.

"En garde." Aaaahhhh! I know it's the actual term for the sport practice, but each time a character says a french word, I just melt! 🫠 I am french, so just hearing my language makes me somehow proud! And boy... I'm wet. 🤣🤣 Kidding, alright. But it's AWESOME!! Plus, that's Alfred who says it. 🙄🥰

And how is the actor so good at manipulating that cane (used as a replacement for the foil)!? I'm so impressed!

By the way, that scene must have been so much fun for Bruce's actor at the time. 😌

Alfred apologizing to the armor he accidentally hit. 🤣

*Alfred hitting Bruce on the thigh or butt, not sure* "That's gotta hurt." BITCH. 🤣🤣

How did Bruce got the police file of his parents' murder? Okay, he said it wasn't hard. I suppose he just payed them. But how? I don't know if he has access to his money on his own. He's 11. Doesn't he have to get Alfred's authorization or something because he is his legal guardian? Anyway. 🙄

Bruce "If I find a clue, I am" Wayne. 🥲

Jim scrapping mud from his shoes with a paper knife? x)

Montaya straight up asking Jim about him killing Oswald. Not wasting time with innuendos. Effective.

"I didn't kill him." Which is the ACTUAL TRUTH! That's the best part. x) He is both praised and condemned for something that he did not do! I like that SO MUCH! x)

Oswald searching for a job.

"You don't even have the right shoes." Him directly looking down behind at one of the staff's shoes and grinning evilly... Is he planning on killing for SHOES now!? 🙃🙃

By the way "Here, you're on your feet all day." Me, thinking about his bad leg. 🥲

Jim and Harvey arguing about the whole situation of the Waynes' murder...

"For the last time Gordon, let it go."

"Or what? Am I gonna be the next person taken out to the pier to get a bullet in the head?"

AH! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

OSWALD!! You actually really... The shoes. 😭😭

"What size are your shoes?" Blabla "What a coincidence!" 😭😭 His laugh. 😭😭

I CANNOT.

That reinforces the feeling that I have about the fisherman's sandwich scene... That was not Oswald's first murder... Surely not... And if it was... Dude's taking a long way down... 😭🙃

Right now, I'm just thinking about Oswald telling his story to Edward, like the very first steps he took into his villain career... That would be something. 🤣😭

The interview.

Oh, 4 balloons... Who are gonna be the three other supposed-to-be victims then? 🤔

"47$?" - "You're a disgrace to drug dealers." Okay, chuckled a bit. 🙄🙃

Cranston!? OMG, I did not even recognise the guy. 😱 Honestly... I don't really mind... We saw him once... But I don't think he really deserved the balloon thing... Man... That's tough...

Attached by the ankle is worse though.

In the night with a lot less witnesses too!

ALFRED! 😍😍 No, I won't shut up.

Bruce reading the newspaper. Yeah, totally doing that at 11. 🙃

Bruce, GIMME YOUR BREAKFAST! 😋 The lil' flower though. PLEASE!

"What's the new program? Trying to see how long you can go without eating anything? If that's the case I should save myself the trouble of making it." 🔥 DAMN! 🔥 I love how he doesn't miss a moment to shoot! x) By the way, Alfred... You can make breakfast for me. 🙄 Breakfast in bed? Breakfast in your bed... in OUR bed... 🙄

Alfred is trying SO HARD. 🥲😭

Gun holder, the gun, the tie, Jim's gaze straight into the camera aaaahhhh!! 😍 Man's going into battle!

Barbara! 🥰

"[newspaper talk] It says he killed a cop. You're not in danger, are you?" GIRL! Your man is a cop... in GOTHAM. He is in danger every second of his life!

"Everyone has to matter or nobody matters." -Jim Gordon. That did something to my heart. 💔❤️‍🩹

Barbara calling Jim a "hero" because he caught Mario Pepper for the Waynes' murder... That hits hard...

Jim talking about the fact that the balloon man's targets are dirty public figures... And Harvey going "Basically any elected official should stay indoors." is so legit. 😭😭

"Listen, one thing I know is how to find someone." Harvey chatting with prostitutes... I mean, he's not wrong! They can have a lot of informations. Tough job it is! Then he beats a guy down... Typical Harvey. 😅 Stopping to get food. TYPICAL HARVEY! That was the fastest summary of his character. x)

The SHOES. 😭😭 Oswald...

Him realising that he's been hired in a Mob boss owned restaurant! 🤣🤣 His FACE. 🤣🤣 Sorry Ozzie, but you deserve it a bit. "Don Maroni!"

"Great opportunity indeed." Oswald... I can't with him. x)

Harvey got so much informations about the guy they're searching for... Okay, I have to admit that's a damn skill! Respect.

DAMN! Harvey 'woman-handled', thrown around. I appreciate that. Sorry. 🙄

Lazlo being actually worried about Fish is so cute. 🥺

What!? Bitch is getting rid of some girl I didn't understand... AND Lazlo. I... 😭

Barbara. Oh hi Montoya!

Montoya HAS THE KEY!? DAMN!!

OMG yeah, Barbare is smoking... weed I suppose. Okay okay... 🤔

Talking about Jim...

"When we were together I did lie to you." I KNEW IT!! Former lovers! Aaaaahhhh

She's talking about being sober for a year etc... What she did blabla... What did Montoya DO!? 😮

Failed attempt at a kiss. I saw that coming. RIP.

Barbara being with another person (Jim) who might also be lying to her... The pattern is repeating itself... Girl must be feeling so down.

OMG the balloons are gonna pop? It's gonna rain bodies? 😭😭 Imagine you're going about your day and then a dead body falls from the sky... 😨

Totally what happened. The woman who died though. RIP for real... 🙏

A church guy being the third victim? Not surprised... 😅🙃

Maroni talking about Arkham!! I'm so excited!!

Obviously, Oswald listening in the background...

New name : Paolo. He's really trying, but he gets it wrong. x)

He's lying about being Italian on his mother's side, "the side that he claims", but the truth is that he actually does love his mother. Half lies. x)

Maroni just gave him money out of the blue?

The little talk about starting from nothing and making yourself by working hard etc... FORESHADOWING!! 😌

"Gotham is the city of opportunity." Hum... Shouldn't it be 'Gotham is the city of crimes'? x)

"Honestly sir, I didn't hear anything at all." "Atta boy." YES!! That's actually the ONLY way to react when you are asked if you heard ANYTHING! 😌

"Go take care of your mother, Paolo." That would be so sweet... but you know... x)

The walk! I like the fact that even when we just see his upper body, Oswald's actor actually always does the walk! I mean, that's part of the character so you HAVE to do it, but like, you notice it, you actually do notice it, and I love that about him! 🥰🐧

The guy actually hiding in the former juvi facility. Meh, can't be smart about everything. Gotta catch the guy 9 minutes before the end of the episode ya know. x)

Is it a TRAP!? Like for Harvey, or Gordon? 😮

Oops. Harvey's been caught.

Harvey pleading his case to the killer saying that he's thankful, that he's doing them a favor. Great defence. 🤣🤣

Oh my God... The killer's talk though... He's so right... Public figures almost never pay for their crimes... So he did justice himself... I feel that man...

Jim's conflicted because he knows that the man's right...

FUCK!! The whole man's speech!! This is the premise of Jim's morality path... Damn it!

NNNNNOOOO! Harvey cuffing the guy to the balloon was a fucked up move! Jim grabbing the man! Please I hoped he would, but damn he's flying in the air with him now. 😭😭

Jim didn't want to let go and begged (ordered?) Harvey to shoot the balloon instead! THANK GOD! Jim, you're doing so good there. I know you're gonna go somehow dark later, but for now... freaking thank you!

The landing on the top of the pickup must have hurt though. 😅

Falcone!!

OMG Natalia was Falcone's "girl"... 😮 That's the one Fish ordered to get into an "accident". 😭

Arkham again... Damn.

Btw, Fish's makeup. 🤌

Damn. Who's the guy's last target?

Bruce's "He killed people too. That made him a criminal." Okay, let me get this straight. I don't condone murder, but I get the idea that sometime you need to be a bad guy to do good. Imagine if killing that guy now would prevent a hundred innocent people to be killed. Killing is not something right to do, but in that context, you kill one to save the others, you know? What I mean is... It's a tough subject, but if killing one person saves a lot of others... And I mean one actual bad person against kind of good people... and I don't really mean "good people", just people who actually did not do terrible things, you know. I don't even know if I would be capable of doing something like that, but the self righteous belief that killing is bad in every context... I don't think it's true. Anyway.

Alfred with his APRON. 🫠 Make me dinner too. 🥰 Please. 🙄🥰

Alfred witty remarks. x)

Bruce is EATING, finally dude.

Jim, home, must be full of bruises, damn. The man struggles to sit down. He didn't break a bone because it's a tv show, hum. 🙄

Barbara concerned again. 🥲

Seeing Jim's face... It's like he's really been 'moved' by the balloon man's speech. It's like an electroshock. I feel like he's about to tell Barbara about Oswald. 🤔 (he did not, oops)

"I want you to know that you can tell me anything." BRO! She's giving you a chance to come clean. I mean, technically you are clean, but ya know.

"This city's sick. Sick in a way I hadn't realised." For real though. 🙃 Harvey told you in the first episode. 🙃

"Doesn't matter" That's the 'last target'? Disappointing, but I get it. That also genius 'cause basically the guy only had 4 balloons, but there's way more people that would 'need' to be cuffed to it...

Jim's speech on people, justice, the law... 👌

Barbara wants to believes him so bad! Girl's crying!

OOOOHHHH, the knock knock knocking... Tell me... I think I saw that... That's him right? HIM!?

OSWALD!! 🎉 In a SUIT!! I told YOU!! (Btw, did he buy a new suit with the money Maroni gave him ? Or did he take his suit to dry-cleaning to get rid of the blood stains? Just wondering 🤔) He wanted to look good for Jim. 🙄 Let me fantasize. x)

"Hello, James. *huffs* Old friend." AAAAHHHH!!

He's already calling him 'old friend'. 🙃🙃🙃🙃 I guess throwing you into the water, instead of shooting you, makes him somehow closer to a friend than an enemy, but... 🤣🤣😭😭 The AUDACITY!! x)

Jim's face. Oswald's smile. AH!

Jim had a freaking day... and it's not over. 😭

FUCKING HELL. MY GOD. I... AWESOME.

I don't even know what to say... Just... My brain's not working anymore...

[Okay, a tiny bit disappointed that we didn't see Edward this time, but I know there is going to be a lot of him in the future. So that makes up for it.]

1. Alfred did not say "bloody", not even once, in the whole damn episode!! 😮 I'm utterly disappointed!! 😔 But I still like him, of course. 🙄🥰

Late additions, two hours later, when my brain decides to function again :

Like, comment, loose your shit with me... It's your choice!!

2. Barbara will at least be relieved that her boyfriend is NOT a liar (not really yk) nor a murderer. Because here he is : Oswald Cobblepot, flesh and blood!! 😌

3. The fact that Barbara is BI, BI, BI! 🎶

Looking forward to the next episode!! 🫶

[chronicangel]

I actually think it would be really funny if Gotham had a reputation for being like, a really cool and fun place that you want to go.

Like I know the running gag in fandom (and a little bit in comics, too) is that Gotham is a cesspit, famed for its insane vigilantes and impossibly high rates of violent crime, but when I think about real-life cities with very high crime rates and sort of a smoggy aesthetic, they are often places that people want to go.

Like, New Orleans is in the top ten cities in the world for homicide rates according to the data from 2022 (all the other 10 are in Mexico, and I can't speak as much to them because I've never been, but I at least recognize Tijuana, which is #5, as a place other people seem to refer to as a tourist destination for Americans), and yet there is a very real and very large crowd of people fully devoted to going there every year for Mardi Gras. I know multiple people who fantasize about living in the French Quarter, and when my grandparents took me there once as a teenager, I remember driving around with my grandmother to look at all the old, pretty buildings.

People famously think of New York City as a dangerous city with high crime rates (although the last few years have really reflected those crime rates going down), and yet it is also one top 10 of the most popular cities in not only the US but the world for tourism. My Dad lived in upstate New York from 2021 until this year, and just moved to North Jersey (significantly closer to the city), and for a while, he would rent a hotel in Times Square for a weekend every time I visited. If a band or artist is touring the US, it would practically be a crime to skip NYC, and there are the huge drawing forces of tourist destinations like the Statue of Liberty and Broadway. In fact, I lived halfway across the country from NYC and I still knew people who went on high school field trips there with their theatre programs.

I grew up in a college town in Southwest Missouri, and for most of my young adult life, I must have gone to St. Louis at least a half-dozen times a year. We went on a field trip to Six Flags when I was in 8th grade. I took a mini-vacation there in July 2023 where I paid for an Airbnb for a week and went to the zoo three or four days in a row so I could really take my time with it. I went on a day-trip in May of this year with a friend from work where we walked around the city to the tune of 19,000 steps. And all of that despite the fact that I spent my entire life hearing about the gang violence permeating the city, and the fact that St. Louis was ranked as the most dangerous city in the United States for several years in my lifetime.

I just moved to Philadelphia, which is in the top 50 cities in the world for homicide rates (see the link on New Orleans), because I've been coming here since I was a teenager and it's always been a home away from home to me. And when I went on my first walk around the neighborhood after moving here, I proudly bragged to my friends about how I had only been catcalled five times, two of which were by the same dude (some guy on my block who yelled at me at the beginning and the end of my walk) and one of which was by a child, so statistically that was a pretty good walk.

My point with all of this is that there are lots of very dangerous places in the world that people still idolize and want to go to. Within the lore of DC Comics, Gotham is a city that was first established in the early 17th century, with beautiful Gothic architecture and the Delaware Bay framing its edges. It would also be the largest city in New Jersey by a long shot, and I can imagine that with the real-world affectionate rivalry between New York and Jersey, citizens of the state would loudly defend Gotham as the superior city to NYC, cesspit or no (the same way that Missourians will hold Kansas City over Kansas' head until the end of time, or until they give back what's rightfully ours).

I imagine people from all sorts of places and all walks of life would go on two-week trips to Gotham during summer vacation to see whatever iconic landmarks stuck out to them, or maybe even to try to catch a glimpse of Batman and the other famous vigilantes-- I think if I heard that there was a vigilante in one of the big cities only a few hours away from my hometown, I probably would have been drawn to it like a magnet the second I was old enough to decide where to spend my breaks.

Also, just looking at it realistically, most of Gotham's crime happens at night and in very specific parts of the city-- which is also true of big cities in the real world. So it's extremely likely that a tourist could spend weeks or even months in Gotham and still never be directly subject to the sort of crime that Batman and Robin and whoever else might be there at the time are dealing with. I can easily imagine plenty of folks from Metropolis deciding to take a day trip to Gotham, which is just across the bay and would logically only take a couple hours tops to get to (assuming there's an operational ferry, and why wouldn't there be?), walking around the city looking at gargoyles and trying famous restaurants, and then packing on up and going back to Metropolis to say, "Yeah, people talk a big talk, but I've been to Gotham and it really isn't that scary."

You know, the way we all do with real cities.

[emo-batboy]

Tbh I was always under the impression Metropolis is NYC and Gotham is Boston. Like iirc Arkham is based on an asylum that was in Danvers MA? The east coast city rivalry vibes feel pretty identical to me. Gotham's organized crime has big whitey bulger energy to me idk.

Gotham has always been adjacent to NYC.

Before DC decided NYC was a real place in their universe, Gotham and Metropolis were considered to be the light and dark side of the same Bay Area, taking up residence where NYC would be. Afterwards, Gotham has always been placed squarely across the Hudson River from NYC in North NJ. Until they couldn’t decide where Metropolis is.

Metropolis is a child of divorce.

The first time DC claimed it was in Delaware was the 70’s. (I don’t know why. They just did.) I think DC realized that making NYC a part of the universe meant they couldn’t make Gotham and Metropolis twin cities anymore so now, whenever they want to bring that dynamic back, they either ignore NYC altogether or move Gotham to the Delaware Bay and claim Metropolis is in Delaware.

But ever since Metropolis was a city, it’s been in NY. It’s been in NY since the 30’s. Usually, it’s placed somewhere above Manhattan, particularly near Westchester or just outside of the NY Metropolitan Area. So in my head, it’s about an hour above NYC but still west of Connecticut.

I like the concept of them being twin cities, but they have such different vibes that I can’t imagine them being right beside one another, and I think a lot of comic writers know that too. So I always place Metropolis in NY. Maybe it’s further upstate like DC sometimes claims, but Gotham and Metropolis are always within three hours of each other without fail.

But yeah, the more you know :) toodles

[carf-writes]

Batman Timeline (Personal Canon)

Early Years

Martha Kane, granddaughter of a prominent city planner, and Thomas Wayne, the heir to the Wayne fortune, meet and fall in love in college. Thomas pursues a medical degree and sets up a free clinic with his friend, Dr. Leslie Thompkins. Martha becomes a prominent philanthropist. They have one son, Bruce Thomas Wayne.

When Bruce is a child, gangster Vincent Falcone brings his badly wounded son, Carmine, who had been shot several times by his rival, Luigi Maroni, to Thomas Wayne. Fearing Maroni would finish the job at a public hospital, he begs Wayne, one of the city's best doctors, to perform surgery at Wayne Manor. A young Bruce Wayne watches his father save Falcone's life. Thomas explains his personal philosophy and belief in the Hippocratic Oath to Bruce in the aftermath. (Batman: Year One)

Bruce’s parents are killed by Joe Chill when he is eight years old after attending an opera of Faust. Joe Chill is arrested and convicted but there is speculation that there might be something more behind the crime. Many in Gotham consider it an assassination and compare it to the death of JFK.

At the funeral, Carmine Falcone approaches Bruce and offers his condolences. Bruce instantly recognizes him as evil. Meanwhile, Alfred, the family butler, speaks to Martha’s brother, Jacob Kane, and asks him and his wife to take in Bruce. Jacob, who has always resented Thomas, refuses citing the fact that he and his wife are both active duty in the military. Bruce overhears and runs away. Alfred tracks him down and promises to look after him until a suitable guardian can be found.

Bruce re-watches his father’s favorite movie, The Mark of Zorro (1940), and asks Alfred to teach him to fence so he can be like Zorro and stop the bad guys. Alfred, both a classically trained stage actor and former British Special Forces medic, agrees. When Bruce is faced with a bully at his prep school, Alfred also teaches him boxing and judo.

Bruce becomes obsessed with criminology and spends most of his time studying true crime cases, forensics techniques, and philosophy on the nature of evil. Alfred, concerned about his charge’s mental health, seeks out help from the psychologist, Hugo Strange. Intrigued by Bruce’s unique mental state, Strange chooses to psychologically torment Bruce instead. When Alfred stops the sessions and reports Strange, he disappears. Bruce is left with a phobia of anyone “trying to pry into his head”.

Bruce attends highschool at the prestigious Deerford Academy upstate as a boarding student where Alfred hopes he will escape the influence of Gotham. Bruce becomes popular and joins the fencing team. He also becomes friends with Harvey Dent, a scholarship kid, while becoming rivals with an older student, Jack Drake. He often gets in trouble for sneaking out at night but later, uncovers an embezzlement scheme within the administration.

Over a summer break, after being dumped by his girlfriend, Bruce attempts to fake his own death and disappear into the wilderness Chris McCandless style. Alfred tracks him down and scolds him for doing it so poorly. After their car is swept away in a flood, Alfred and Bruce spend two weeks fending for themselves in the wild as they trek back to civilization. Bruce considers this a positive experience.

Bruce graduates early and attends college at Ivy University for two years. He graduates from there early as well and dissatisfied with his life attends Gotham University Medical School at the age of 18. He forms a friendship with an undergrad student taking additional classes, Harleen Quinzel, and begins a romance with fellow student, Andrea Beaumont. Bruce vacillates between the promise he made to his murdered parents to fight crime versus starting a married life with Andrea, which he feels his parents would have wanted for him. When they are threatened by muggers while leaving a theater, Bruce flies into a rage and attacks the men. He is struck over the head and wakes up in the hospital. Andrea is frightened by his extreme reaction to the muggers and by his sudden marriage proposal when he wakes up. She breaks up with him.

Bruce drops out of Med School at 19 and leaves Gotham to live as a nomad under an alias. He trains with investigators, man hunters, fighters and monks while getting into the mind of the criminal element, intent on finding some way to destroy crime in Gotham- especially the mob.

While Bruce is away, Alfred arranges lavish birthday parties for Bruce with exclusive invites for the young, wealthy, and beautiful. They are usually the parties of the year and so talked about that no one seems to notice that Bruce Wayne never attends them. It becomes tradition that a young man who roughly fits Bruce’s description is appointed the Bruce Wayne of the party though technically this is done unintentionally. Only an old classmate from Deerford Academy, Oliver Queen, seems to notice but he doesn’t mind.

Bruce is recruited to the League of Assassins and begins to train under Ra’s al Ghul who claims to share his goals. While there Bruce meets Talia al Ghul, Ra’s’ daughter, and Minhkhoa Khan, the son of a Singaporean business man who wants to become a vigilante as a form of art. They form a love triangle until Bruce leaves the League of Assassins when he realizes Ra’s is really an eco-fascist who wants to destroy Gotham.

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[dairy-farmer]

Gotham Prep’s car park fills up just before the end of final classes with a couple hundred daddies there to pick their boys up and fuck then in the car. Some of the other students love standing around the cars and watching, hoping that when these boys become too old for their daddies they will be chosen to take over.

Bruce had been watching Tim for years standing at the glass of his car window, watching him fuck Jason, and couldn’t wait until he could get his hands on him.

Basic idea is that it’s normal for rich kids in Gotham to fuck wealthy older men, its an unspoken thing that everyone knows happens, most of these men are fucking their actual sons and their piece on the side is one of these high schoolers too.

😍😍😍😍!! gotham prep having those really old customs and traditions that they continue to uphold which includes the often criticized tradition of the fathers of students fucking their sons in the parking lot just before finals as a sort of send off/good luck. sadly for tim his daddy has never shown up :( he's always too busy. and even if he wasn't-tim wasn't a gotham prep legacy- jack had gone to some private school in upstate new york when he'd been tim's age and it seemed like only former gotham prep students upheld tradition. like bruce wayne who tim was desperate for the attention of just at the slightest chance that he might allow tim to take his children's place once jason was too old <3

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Random prompt idea Damian and Alfred bonding over tea or Bat-family Avengers Coffee orders

At sixteen, Damian spends most of his year at boarding school in upstate New York, but when he is home in Gotham, he does make an effort to spend time with his family, outside of crime fighting.

And so, he spends a quiet summer morning carefully making tea the way his mother used to make tea. He goes through the motions, enjoying the peaceful silence of the morning, and when he's done, he settles everything on a tray and heads for the veranda.

Alfred smiles up at him warmly. "Good morning, dear boy," he says. "Thank you for the tea."

"It is your day off, after all, Pennyworth," Damian reminds him as he smoothly sets the tray down and starts serving. "And I do not get to make tea at school. Not this way, at least."

"It is quite calming sometimes, to prepare tea," Alfred nods. "Now. Have a seat. Tell me all about how your semester went."

"All A's," Damian shrugs as he sits. "And my friendships are going well."

"Very good, Master Damian," Alfred smiles proudly. "Are you enjoying school?"

"It is...enjoyable, mostly," Damian admits. "At first, going away for school felt ridiculous. There's so much work to do here in Gotham."

"Yes, but your father and your siblings are quite capable," Alfred says as he sips his tea.

"I am an essential asset," Damian argues lightly.

"Of course. But your education, and expanding your horizons is important."

"I suppose...And I do...enjoy...school."

"Then you'll finish out your schooling, and then decide where to go from there," Alfred grins. "But you have an entire summer ahead of you to help out here in Gotham. And possibly to have a little fun. Perhaps your schoolfriends would like to visit you."

Damian looks surprised by the idea, but obviously gives it some thought. "Perhaps."

Alfred grins, and sips more tea. "Well, done, young sir. This tea is quite lovely."

Damian grins.

[wanderingmind867]

I went to create my own Reinterpretation of Solomon Grundy (for reasons I don't even remember now), and instead it somehow turns into some sort of family drama by the end? I don't know how I got there, either:

Cyrus Gold was rich and famous in the late 19th century. Owner of several successful factories, Mr. Gold was a minor robber baron. He wasn't as wealthy as Carnegie or Rockefeller, but he was decently successful and famous. He had a few parks named after him and even a couple minor statues or buildings in his honor.

Cyrus was also awful to his workers, however. He always payed them cheaply, refused to let them unionize and was all around a perfect example of the tyranny of the wealthy. Although him, his wife and his two kids lived luxuriously, all of his workers hated his guts. They began planning revenge and retribution, and one day soon they'd get their wish.

In 1894, Cyrus Gold came to Gotham City on a business trip (leaving his wife and kids at home in NYC). Late at night, he went out and got drunk. Then, while he was wandering the streets drunkenly, a group of bitter ex-employees ambushed him. They tied him up and dragged him to Slaughter Swamp, a horrible fetid bog on the outskirts of Gotham. There they shot him three times through the heart, and left his body to rot.

Cyrus Gold was 45 years old. Many people thought he had just disappeared, and life went on (including the lives of his wife and kids). This was the end of Cyrus Gold… Or so everyone thought.

50 years after death (in 1944), Cyrus Gold rose from the dead. His corpse had decayed and rotted, mingling with the algae and waters of the swamp. For years his body stayed there rotting and decaying. Until suddenly one dark october night, when strange and supernatural forces conspired to bring Cyrus Gold back from the dead.

Little more than a walking corpse, his mind was blank. He wandered into town and found his way to a homeless shelter. There, he was nicknamed "Solomon Grundy" by the other homeless folks, primarily because he remembered about his past life was that he was "born on a monday".

After the crisis (which happened around 1985 or so), Grundy's life begins to change, yet again. Grundy doesn't really remember the crisis, but the cataclysmic events of the crisis jostled the memories of his old self, Cyrus Gold. This leads to Grundy actually rekindling the small spark of humanity within him, as he tries to learn more about Cyrus Gold.

Sadly, Cyrus Gold was not a good person. As mentioned before, he was a cruel man, with an insatiable greed and a love only for his own family. Grundy hates Cyrus Gold, but still wants to try and reach out to his descendants.

Now for a brief history of the Gold family. When Cyrus Gold died in slaughter swamp back in 1894, the family fortune began to dwindle. For most of the early 20th century, the gold's still had some amount of wealth. But when the great depression hit, they lost everything. Nowadays the family is pretty much just like everyone else.

When Solomon Grundy goes to find one of his descendants, he finds a middle class single mother with her young son. Her great grandfather was the last member of the family to really remember the golden age of the Gold clan. But Marianne Gold? She's never known the good fortune her ancestors knew. Her life has always been middle class and hard. She's just a single mother desperately trying to raise her young and highly precocious son in upstate new york somewhere.

Strangely enough, when Solomon Grundy walks up to her house and tries to introduce himself to her, her son isn't remotely scared of him. She's terrified of this giant, shambling monster, but her son isn't scared. Maybe her son can sense the real goodness in Solomon Grundy's heart. In any case, Solomon Grundy has finally found a home again. Cyrus Gold may be dead, but Solomon Grundy will be a better man then Cyrus Gold would ever be.

[arabriddler]

Oswald's origin --- part 3

( previous, start from here )

Losing her job at The Falcone estate and Oswald's mangled ankle were the last straw for Gertude. She sort of...lost it after that. It started with her forgetting certain things, day dreaming, talking randomly out of the blue. The people upstate kept spreading bad rumors about her and she couldn't get hired there again, so back to The Narrows again. Her mental state began worsening little by little, and she started getting ill often. Oswald picked up the mantle, slowly convincing her to give up working so many jobs that just worsen her condition. Often Oswald would come tired, and sometimes he'd have extra cash to put in the jar, but he'd find it empty and his mother had bought a new ornament to decorate their apartment ( or castle as she began to call it ) with.

Desperate, Oswald visited Falcone and told him about their condition, He begged for help, anything, to help his poor mother. Even if he could at least just talk to her as she valued him. Falcone refused and taught Oswald an important lesson.

" I wouldn't have become The Don if I let anyone get away with anything wouldn't I?"

If Oswald wanted to become as powerful, he needs to follow that advice. That's why he started planning taking over control from Falcone. He changed his last name to Cobblepot to fit in then started by gathering intel, traveling all over Gotham, getting hired around important people. Silently, carefully, little by little, he began building his own crime family in the shadows. Made up of the freaks and the rejected. He built himself a somewhat of a good fortune, even managed to buy medicine for his poor mother.

He was known as The Penguin now. A name his bosses used to call him because of his limo but it grew to hold power and demand respect.

It was a delicate plan because nothing could go wrong, it took a decade in the making, hiding in the shadows, before Falcone got wind of it and dragged Oswald into an empty warehouse to teach him a lesson. Falcone didn't even bother to remember him as he kept him there for days. He wasn't going to kill him, no, just mold him into subordination.

Oswald can deal with pain, he lives with it everyday thanks to his leg, but he was worried, he's leaving his mother alone and sick. So, he begged, even when he promised himself to never beg to Falcone again, but he had to. for his mother.

Falcone didn't stir until Sofia burst in, demanding that she'd get rid of The Penguin. He's never going to submit, and she wants to prove herself to her father. After lengthy discussions Falcone agreed and she took Oswald away. She had witnesses alright, but she fired the gun right next to Oswald's ear and asked him to just leave Gotham. ( the witnesses were all working for her, she's planning to take over from Falcone herself since he'd never give her the position she deserves. )

Oswald was willing to follow her advice, she was his friend, and his mother comes first. Yet, when he went home he found a foul smell. Gertude had slit her wrist next to pictures of Oswald.

" I'm Sorry Sofia... I can't keep my promise." he whispered as he vowed to take revenge.