Superman Is Asked In An Interview If He Walks Around Without His Costume In The Streets, He Says Yes,

Commissioner Gordon was ostracized within the Gotham Police department. He knew this was because of his ties to the Bat, his late hours, constant overtime. He knew that even the good officers, while he couldn't tell too much who was who, didn't mean to ostracize him. It happened on accident, he's sure. He picked up some clues from the world's greatest detective. Rumors went around, running rampant about him. He just couldn't care so much about them.

Everyone knew that Commissioner Gordon always took his late dinner at 9:37 at night. Everyone cleared from the break room. Gordon opened the door, taking a heavy breath. He was still expecting the empty room. It felt empty, in a way Gordon had picked up from The Bat. He pulled his burrito out of the fridge, opening the styrofoam container and eating a bite. "You're not going to heat it up?" Gordon barely manages to catch his burrito, his whole soul leaving his body.

"Jesus Christ, kid, you scared me." Gordon lets out a heavy breath, seeing the new detective sitting at a table in the corner. He's eating... Something indescribable. He looks tired, his long black hair bulled back into a high ponytail. His face seems disproportionate, large prominent features. A crooked nose, a wide, thin mouth, large eyes accompanied by large bags. His skin was pale, dusted with faded freckles and litchenburg scarring. The young man- still a boy, practically, shrugged at Gordon's words, eating another bite of the odd food. "No one warned you I'd be in here?" Gordon decided to sit with him.

"No, they warned me. But the past couple of days they've been... Avoiding me." Dr. Fenton, Gordon remembers his file passing over his desk. He could never be a cop- he was a detective-by-hire because of some medical condition. Gordon feels a pang at the emotionless words.

"Ah, they avoid me too." Gordon takes another bite of his cold burrito. "So, how have you been enjoying working here?"

"Well, it's been alright, I guess." Fenton took a drink from his thermos- which has a straw in it. It goes unsaid that this was the only job Fenton could really get. Close to the force, anyways. His medical condition refrained him from being a proper officer, so he wasn't officially a Gotham PD detective. He was an out-contract detective, receiving the same work, pay, and hours as the regular detectives.

"Getting around the town well enough?"

"Well enough, I suppose. Almost got robbed." Fenton held three doctorates- criminology, psychology, and natural sciences. All at the young age of 22.

"Almost?" Gordon snorts a bit at that. "Scared them off with your badge?"

"I don't have a badge. And I don't have a gun, if that's what you're thinking. I guess they just thought I was too pathetic to have much cash." Danny shrugged.

"Oh come on, you're not pathetic." Gordon is a bit taken aback that the boy doesn't carry any weapons. He makes a mental note to get him a badge.

"I looked pathetic enough not to rob."

Gordon feels like he missed something there, because Gotham robbers would rob a kindergartner if they were unattended. Regardless, he and Fenton sat in silence for a good couple of minutes. "What are you eating?" Fenton asks eventually.

"A burrito from the Mexican stand on Westwood."

"Why are you eating it cold?"

"Because if I reheat it, then the sauce becomes a solid liquid and everything gets soggy. What are you eating?"

"It was supposed to be stir fry?" Danny stared down at the leftovers container. "I'm not good at cooking. No videos ever make sense, so they don't turn out right."

"Your parents didn't teach you?" Gordon asks.

"No, they weren't the best chefs. They did pass on the family fudge recipe though. I can make some killer fudge." He laughs a little bit at that.

"I'll bring you lunch in from now on." Gordon says. "Until we can get your cooking sorted out, anyhow. Normally my daughter and I spend Tuesday nights fixing dinner together, so you'll get the best meals Wednesday."

"You don't have to do that." Danny seems a little caught off guard by the kindness.

"I can't have one of my youngest detectives going hungry!" Gordon smiles. "Besides, you're the first person in the precinct to eat dinner with me in nearly twenty years. You keep eating with me, it'll be no problem. I enjoy the company." Danny smiles at him and Gordon is reminded of someone, but he can't remember who.

Over the next couple of weeks, Gordon and Danny get well acquainted in their overlapping shifts. Danny works the nights and sometimes early mornings, similar to what Gordon does. Gordon finds himself feeling fatherly to the young man, who's working and picking up significant overtime to pay off his student loans. He learns that Danny moved here from Illinois- it was the only PD he could work at. He had no formal fighting training, but apparently his mom had taught him some moves. They had yet to overlap in the field, and it was easy for Gordon to forget that the boy was really a detective.

"Danny?" Jim paused, having finally made his way to the crime scene. Danny was crouched over a dead body, using his gloved hands to inspect the wound- the word Joker carved using some sort of knife.

"Gordon?" Despite all insistence, the boy still used his last name.

Jim has to stop himself from asking him why he's here. Danny's eyes shift to a spot behind him and James sighs. "What happened?" Batman's voice startled the last officer in the room, who quickly stuttered an excuse and left.

"The Joker broke in, tortured her, and left." Jim says. "We just have to figure out why."

"No, we don't." Danny looked back at the body, his eyes unfocused. "It was political. Do you see the swelling here on the neck? No lacerations, and no bruising. Allergy, I suppose, or a poison that reacts similarly. No clawing at the neck or face, but heavy rope burns on the wrists and ankles. The cuts were sloppy, and from the bleeding, it was done after she had died. Maybe five, ten minutes after? The window wasn't fully closed when it was broken into, do you see how the glass fractured there at the top?"

Jim blinked, and Danny continued. "It doesn't fit the motive of a mad-man like the Joker to do this. Who you're looking for is a woman, younger than the victim, maybe around twenty or thirty?" His eyes unfocused again. "Hmmm." He snaps back, looking around. He stands, his hands shaking a little. He looks around, eyes landing on the shelf. He scans it, using gentle hands to lift the potted plant. He pulls out a camera, unplugging it. "A Direct Link- model E47C." He sets the camera in an evidence bag.

Batman gives a grunt- and if Jim isn't mistaken it was one of approval? Danny held the camera out to Jim. "That was some fine detective work today, kid." Jim sets his hand on Danny's shoulder. Danny glances off to the side nervously. He locks eyes with Batman. "Danny, this is Batman. Batman, this is Dr. Daniel Fenton, the newest detective on the force."

Batman holds a hand out. "I look forward to working with you." Danny pulls off one of the disposable gloves, reaching out to shake his hand. "You're shaking a little, are you alright?"

"Medical condition." Danny answers. "You're taller than I expected."

"It's the ears." Jim represses a smile. "You go ahead and get your deductions filed. I brought pasta." Jim watches Danny leave. He turns to Batman, who's staring him down with that signature I-know-everything™ face. "What?"

"When are you going to let him know that you're mentoring him?" He says it like a sentence, and was that amusement in his tone?

"I'm not." Jim turns to the window.

"You brought him pasta."

"He never learned to cook."

"So you're teaching him." There was definitely amusement in his tone now.

Jim huffed. "We're getting old." He finally sighs. "We both have full grown kids. Crime and corruption are still thick in this city." Batman is standing next to him with a swoosh in his cape. "Retirement... I could see myself with it. Sipping cocktails on the beach. A beach with sunshine and no broken down carnivals."

Batman is silent for a moment, as if considering this. "So you see Fenton taking your place?"

"Like you see your Robin." Jim admits.

I need more dosages of this in my life

Sigh. . . Tim Joker Jr. AU incorrect quotes because I don't wanna start writing the fic till I plan everything out and have a decent understanding of Stephanie, Cass, and Babs as characters and the timeline. The. Timeline. But gods, my own AU lives rent free in my head and I'm the only one able to make the content I want of it...

Context: Bruce stuck Tim in Arkham following the J.J. incident, Dick didn't exactly agree, but he didn't protest, nobody visited Tim for the two years he was there. Jason came back and decided Tim was his now. Now take backs.

Jason: Whatchu... Whatchu doin' there, Little Red?

Tim, glaring at the ice in his drink: Trying to see if you drugged me...

Jason: Why would I drug ya?

Tim: Same reason the guards and docs at Arkham did, 'cause I'm "crazy" and "dangerous."

Jason: . . . Well, that's bull. Here, lemme see that.

Jason, taking a sip of Tim's drink before handing it back: See? Not drugged.

Tim: . . . Thanks, riding hood.

Jason: No problem, little red.

—

Tim: . . . I don't feel real.

Jason: Ya look real.

Tim: Is time real? I don't think it is... I think it's made up. It doesn't feel real, what is time but an illusion of control humanity made to call the spinning of our planet?

Jason: . . . Let's just get you a weighted blanket.

—

Clark: I hear things have been rough in Gotham lately, new vigilantes?

Bruce: It's under control.

Clark: Yeah, yeah, of course! I'm just saying, if you ever need help—

Bruce: It. Is under. Control.

Clark: . . .

Jason who's taken over the Iceberg lounge and became the most notorious and dangerous Crime lord in Gotham city with territory in Crime Alley, the Bowery, and Robinsville:

Tim who has been equipping Jason and his trusted goons with tech that rivals the bats and setting random things on fire, including tampering with the Bat computers files:

Stephanie who has been sabotaging Batman and co. for weeks and planting evidence against various enemies to get them served longer sentences and running circles around Cass (it's enemies to friends to lovers, trust, gang) while also actively helping Jason take down Black Mask:

Selina who fully ditched Bruce and has been assisting the Red Hood and Spoiler while stealing from the rich in Bristol:

Bruce, sighing: So under control.

—

Dick: So, uh, B, y'know how Jason's back..?

Bruce: Yes, things are... Complicated, but I'm hoping that overtime we can come to an agreement an—

Dick: He broke Joker Junior out of Arkham.

Bruce:

Bruce: F#&$.

—

Jason, sighing heavily: Just me,

Jason, looking to Selina: My emotionally adopted Mom,

Jason, looking to Stephanie: My emotionally adopted pest,

Jason, looking to Tim: And my emotionally adopted little brother.

Tim: :D

—

Cassandra, sitting beside Stephanie on a rooftop: You're the enemy.

Stephanie: What makes me the enemy? Because I work with the Red Hood, or 'cause I'm fine with him killing?

Cassandra: Both.

Stephanie: . . . Y'know, I became Spoiler at first for the rush, 'cause it made me feel like I finally had power over my life. I could stop my Dad and the drug dealers and help my Mom, I could actually... I could actually do things, y'know? I'm not, like, just some random bystander. Batman didn't think that was a valid reason, I guess.

Cassandra: . . . Why do you still do it . . ? Still for the "rush?"

Stephanie: Now? Well, now... Now I do it 'cause it makes me happy. It feels right, y'know? It's given me everything Stephanie Brown never had, like Tim and Jason. I... I never really had a family before. Not a proper one.

Cassandra: I . . . understand that. Didn't like my family, Father or Mother. Oracle? I feel like I am... Home. Batman feels like... family.

Stephanie: Well... I'm glad you like your family. Sorry I hate 'em.

Cassandra: Sorry I hate yours.

Stephanie: 't's whatever. I'll still beat you up next time you try to attack Red Hood or Catwoman though.

Cassandra: You'll lose again.

Stephanie: I'll hit you with a brick again.

Cassandra: . . . I hate you.

Stephanie, laughing: Why!?

Cassandra: Because you... Make me feel. I don't like the feeling you give me.

Stephanie: Why not?

Cassandra: It makes me think things Batman wouldn't like...

Stephanie: Like what?

Cassandra, whispering: Like I should kiss you.

—

Tim, standing in the middle of Selina's apartment: Permission to pet all your cats?

Selina: . . . Permission granted.

Tim, cackling as he begins to pet every single cat:

Jason: How long ya think that'll take him?

Selina: At least five hours.

Jason: Damn.

—

Jason, standing in front of a flaming warehouse in Black Mask's territory: And what do you two have to say for yourselves!?

Tim, holding his flamethrower behind his back: I love you?

Stephanie: Womp womp!

—

Tim, standing next to Jason's sleeping body: . . .

Jason, slowly waking up:

Jason: HOLY— What are you doing up!?

Tim: I had to make sure you didn't get killed by the spiders.

Jason: What spiders?!

Tim: The ones in my head.

Tim, slowly covering Jason with a blanket again: This'll keep them off you.

Jason: . . . Thanks?

Tim: You're welcome! Now, if you'll excuse me I need to go flick the kitchen light exactly sixty times in order to prevent my arm from falling off.

Jason, watching as Tim walks away: . . . "A threat to Gotham" Bruce says,

Jason, throwing the blanket off himself to follow Tim: "Dangerous!" Dickface said!

Jason, rubbing a hand down his face: Danger to my damn electricity bill, more like...

—

Bruce, dropping down after hearing reports of a cult ritual being performed:

Jason, lying in the middle of a purple pentagram drawn poorly on the floor: Can we help you?

Tim, holding a flamethrower, slowly pointing it toward Batman:

Stephanie, in full Spoiler wear, eight months pregnant: We're kinda busy.

Selina, drinking a glass of wine from the side: Go away, Bat, they're under my supervisor.

Bruce, gesturing to the scene: This is outside Red Hood's territory, I have a right to ask.

Jason: No, you don't.

Stephanie: We'll give Tim permission to start shooting.

Tim: I already have in my mind.

Bruce: You're in a condemned building, Stephanie is pregnant, why does... He have a flamethrower!

Jason: Questioning our parenting methods? Really?

Selina: Honestly, the audacity.

Stephanie: Say Tim's name, p#&%$!

Bruce: You know what? Never mind.

Tim: Wow, the auditory hallucinations of you say my name and acknowledge me more than you.

Bruce: I... I'll just go.

Tim, sticking his tongue out as Bruce leaves:

Stephanie: Alright! Back to getting Jason his soul back!

—

Random bird:

Tim, making bird noises:

Random bird:

Jason: You good there, Little Red?

Tim: Yeah, we're talking politics!

Jason: Nice.

—

Dick standing right outside Crime Alley: I'm not in Crime Alley!

Jason: Get out!

Dick: I'm not in your territory!

Tim, jumping down with his flamethrower: Are you flame proof? :D

Dick: Tim.. C'mon, please, I'm trying!

Tim, aiming: Remember that time you stole my cookie during patrol and I stayed mad at you for a month?

Dick: . . . Yes.

Tim: Imagine how I feel about you not even VISITING ME in ARKHAM for TWO YEARS!

Jason: Begone! I'm the favorite brother.

Dick: We're still brothers?

Tim, putting his finger in the trigger, in a sing song voice: Not for long!

—

This is just another shitpost, a copy and paste from what I spammed my friend at like 5pm- ish Jason or Red-Hood who's known for having 'information from the dead/graves' but his boyfriend is Danny 'phantom' Fenton and will just yap to his boyfriend over ghost gossip and not even realize that he's sharing new/unheard of information to Jason over crimes and other things happening around Gotham or in crime alley

People gossip but the dead talk, and Danny is all too happy to have someone to listen to all the ghost drama with him that the man will yap to Jason for hours. (Jason has timed it before, it got to hour 5 before he called it a day)

No one can figure out how why or when Jason started becoming two or three steps ahead of every villain/gang/goon/whatever, calling 'anonymous' tips into the batfam/police/whoever tf, days or even weeks before anything happened.

Jason who somehow ends up scaring the shit out of the bad guys because they 'changed their plans three times already to lose Red-hood' but yet, somehow, he's waiting for them by the time they arrive to where ever they were meeting up to do their illegal business with a coffee in hand and the police already called and arriving in 5 minutes.

Rocking with the Joker

It was a dark day in Gotham. The dark clouds and heavy rain weren't a new sight for its residents. Some would say it's the city's natural state.

Heavy rain accompanied by thunder usually muffled the cries of people with knives or bullets in their abdomen from a deal gone wrong. At the same time, it was a comfort to Gothamites.

Rain showed the best and worst of the world's crime center. The muffled sounds made finding sleep in the city easier. It made its people more receptive to helping one another. Rain, Darkness, Shadows.

Those were the playgrounds for the very protectors of this city.

It was the very thing that frustrated Oracle at the moment. Looking through wet lens into the alleys and abandoned sites like her life depended on it.

Maybe it did. Switching to being the lady in the chair surely wasn't a seamless but she did a damn good job, if the numerous voices in her ear didn't remind her enough. But she couldn't help her frustration. Even if they didn't speak often, they shared a look. A silent promise to get back at their assailant for what he's done.

A week ago, rogues used the same playground to break out of Arkham. The Joker was out there. Somewhere.

And Jason was silent. It's been slowly eating at her as they caught more rogues. Tim and Dick reported back that they've 'contact'. Whatever they wanted to call it. She hated the 10-foot pole between him and the other bats. She knew he hated it too.

A week since the Joker escape, and his pit rage hasn't died down since.

Her mind stopped wandering as she heard the GCPD. Reported sightings of the pale green gas inside an indoor concert hall, the feint laughter in the background growing louder by the second. With a practiced deftness, she located where the officer's coordinates were and reported to the bats... Right near Crime Alley. "Does anybody have eyes on Red Hood?" Nobody responded for 1...3...5 seconds. She knew well enough that one of the first casualties when Hood was like this was his helmet , and she assumed right when she got in to see the blurry camera that glitched with static occasionally. Right at the doors of the venue. She could make out people crumbling to their knees, desperately making their way for exits before succumbing to the drug. The haunting laughter ringing out from crying faces with grins too large. "I NEED ETAS! STAT!" "I'm 5 minutes away!" Tim responded as he grappled from rooftops. "I'm there in 3!" Dick was hoofing it as she focused on Red Hood. She opened her mouth, and her stomach dropped. Static graced her ears as it came in, but she was sure she heard correctly. "I'm going in." "Hood, just hold on." She knew better than hoping he'd listen. She checked the clear camera. At least, he had his rebreather on. "Hood is making contact. Hurry!"

"On it!" The chorus of voices and affirmative "Hm!" brought the comfort of the rain back to her. He's not alone in this, and neither is she. ---- The corners of his eyes tinged with green as he felt the pits simmer to life. He had to act fast. He had the officers on-site help him and his boys move the people nearest to the exits away before he turned back to the venue and collapsed forms inside. He could barely make out what the others were saying, but he knew well enough that the venue could comfortably fit 1,000 people. Far too many for him and 20 odd cops to handle.

He could still remember Bella, the rock star in the making, nerded out when a meta from the out of the city announced a surprise performance for the end of her tour. What was her name again? He followed the sounds of gunfire the further he got in until he made it to the open double doors. There weren't any bullet holes through the wall and door frame, so he made his way in. His heart was in his chest as he laid his eyes on the room surrounded in green. Lazarus green.

Jason had to keep reminding himself, freak out later, there's a job to do. Freak out later; there's a job to do. FREAK OUT LATE-! Green paved its way through his sight.

But the pits we're of afraid of it. Should he be? He needed something, anything to ground himself. So he touched the freaky thing. The green at the encompassing his vision vanished. Like oil to water, whatever he felt now wasn't the pits. It was like taking a dip into a pool. Cold enough to make you flinch, but it warms to his touch. He didn't notice he was dragging his hand along it until a guy's voice rang out over the mental and physical gunfire. "EMBER!" He took off a purple guitar with teal flame details and tossed it over.

The guitar straps fitted on her like a glove. "I GOT IT, B! LET'S KNOCK THEIR SOCKS OFF!" Jason didn't realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled in relief. Not noticing the band members' attention snapping to him as he finally caught sight of the joker. He gave the room a once over. The room with cheering fans as the band members were still being fired on. "THIS IS EMBER AND THE BUSTAS-" The three other members responded,"-AND WE'RE HERE TO BUST YA BALLS!" What. The. Fuck.

Sound on folks

Unexpected siblings AU

Aka Jazz fenton is a certified therapist friend and a tad bit of a gremlin child, but both fenton kids gain a shit ton of siblings.

Everyone knows that Jack and Maddie fenton were deeply in love with two kids when they moved to Amity Park but what wasn't known was the fact that danny was not Jack's son or that jazz wasn't Maddie's daughter. So when shit went down with the GIW, the elder fentons sent their respective kids to their other biological parents for their safety.

Jack had always known his little girls bio mother was most likely someone unsavory and quite honestly pegged them as a possible spy. This made sense to him since Jazz had been left on his doorstep a good year after her mother disappeared from Jack's life, even if that meant he probably didn't know her actual name.

Meanwhile, Maddie always knew who her sons father was afterall she had been born of old money but chose to leave that life behind once she met Jack. Maddie had gotten a bit tipsy at a gala her parents threw alongside one Brucie Wayne, which ended up in a one night stand that gave her Danny.

So, while the two teenagers were on the run from the GIW, they stuck together with Jazz, promising she wouldn't leave her brother behind unless she knew he was going to be ok before going to find her birth mother. Both siblings grew out their hair, Jazz letting her natural brown hair grow in, in order to better hide from the guys in white while danny jist let his hair get shaggy while using some of his ghost energy to change his eye color to green just enough so that his eyes wouldn't glow. It didn't take long for them to run into something they didn't expect...

*The fenton siblings standing in front of the main entrance to Wayne manor.*

Danny: I know mom and dad wanted us to be safe, but are we sure this guy would even believe us?

Jazz: *Giving her brother a small hug.* If he doesn't, you can always come with me while I search for my biological mother.

Bruce & Talia: *Stepping out of the vehicle, they used to discuss damiens safety from the one's who led a coup against Ra's, freezing once they make it to the door because of the teenage doppelganger's standing in front of them.*

Danny: *Being the certified gremlin he was, turning around pretty fast when he heard them approaching and recognizing Bruce Wayne pretty easily.* Surprise, it's a boy! Can we come inside, please?

Rogue Rater AU

He's sick of this shit. Might as well put the experience to use.

When the videos first come out, they're more rage rants cause this is happening so often and he's only been there for like 2-3 days. The only thing is part of his first video that Cass ans Steph put on the screen for the others to see. I have written out is that he got nabbed 6 times within the weekend he got here and if he got nabbed a 7th time then this would be his project.

Danny is in Gotham for 3 days and is already sick of the rogues and criminals. He's kidnapped, drugged, and mugged, you name it! So he takes the time to rate his experiences. To make up his semester grades, Mr. Lancer gave him a summer assignment to do while he’s at the Wayne Summer Scholar program to record his experiences. So he goes a little above and makes it a YouTube channel after the third incident on his first day here. Speaking about the rogues from an outsider's perspective behind a ghost image. After the SEVENTH TIME on his THIRD. DAY. HERE. He finally uses a camera, full-on (Silly-ass) rage ranting in a full black motorcyclist gear with a black tint visor that barely shows the green light coming from his eyes if you look super closely. Straight from the riddler's kidnapping today! If it's a more serious video, he'll be in a full gas mask, single colored shirt, a black hoodie over top, and white gloves. Either way, he never shows an inch of skin. Yet, no rogue has made it past 4.5/5 stars cause this kid has ALWAYS somehow experienced worse. A Gothamite calls him on it, so he shares a droplet of his experiences with his rogues, and everyone is getting increasingly concerned for RR. No one has any idea what they look like (aside from Sam and Tucker, who joined the program with him). So everyone is looking out for their midwestern accent. Tim is delighted and confused when #RRSolidarity goes viral. 

Made it for my banner... I think Imma make another, this one is too center focused--