#comicwr1te

[cxpedcrusxder]

@comicwr1te sent:

[ reach ] sender desperately reaches out to receiver with both arms extended, pleading for a hug from child! richard <3

PROMPTS FOR NONVERBAL COMMUNICATION

  🦇—-;; Bruce isn't the most tactile of men, both out of preference of not wanting to be touched, but also because people were always unsure if they could do more than a brief pat on the back. He'd been that way for years. But he made exceptions, obviously, but they weren't frequent beyond offering a hand on a shoulder or letting someone lean on him when he's helping them out of danger. Few people got more than that.

He is a little surprised by Dick reaching out though, wondering if something was wrong, though he didn't ask right away, already moving as he checks for anything physical, or if this was simply a child reaching out, which is pointed out by the part of himself that isn't buried in logic. He huffs at himself as he bends to hug the boy, and let him do the same. "Is something wrong?"

[blckfckinmsk-archive]

“Aww c’mon you’re not still mad, are you? I didn’t realize it was as your warehouse when I blew it up. Besides, I said sorry. Can’t you forgive me?” From Harley

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . The moment he'd heard about his warehouse being blown up he'd had his men go wrangle her up. It was her m.o. after all. And no one else would be so careless. And he's lost a whole stock he was supposed to be pushing in these few days thanks to her. "Forgive you?! Your little fucking stunt is costing me not only the warehouse, but the fucking shipments I just got in! So how are you going to pay me back? Then I'll consider letting you live."

[urbanoath]

richard locks him out of the cave for his birthday so he has no choice but to take a break for the night. happy birthday batdad <3

DENIED.   cold   metal   &   silent   refusal,   a   monolith   unyielding   to   even   the   most   patient   of   keystrokes   inserting   the   numeric   password   after   palm   digital   AND   irises   recognition   had   failed.   the   code,   repeating   the   two   previous   outcomes,   returned   a   negative   answer,   but   a   positive   testimony   to   forming   theory;   no   batman   on   his   birthday.

sealed   out   of   the   cave,   palm   scratched   stubbled   cheek   as   pensive   grunt   rumbled   low   in   chest,   lingering   in   defiance   of   locked   entrance,   mentally   listing   the   other   hideouts   possessing   a   version   of   his   armor   until   a   familiar   voice   crackles   through   the   intercom.   digit   taps   the   earpiece   to   answer   before   the   other   can   even   utter   a   syllable,      “   don't.   let   me   guess,   richard,   you   also   hid   my   suit   for   tonight   besides   contacting   oracle   to   revoke   all   my   access   to   the   system.   ”      silence   reigned   for   an   instant   of   acquiescence   to   dawn,      “   please,   tell   me   you   only   invited   the   family   for   tonight.   ”      to   assume   dick   did   NOT   organize   a   gathering   would   be   asking   for   too   much   of   fate's   mercy.

⤿ from unprompted birthday ask (accepting!)

[clawsextended]

@comicwr1te asked: From Harley: "Pspsps hey kitty-cat. It's your favorite clown. I got info on a rich jerk who could use his pockets to be lightened. You up for a girl's night out? Call me back when you can!"

“you’re not my favorite clown, goof, you’re my favorite favorite.”

she’s talking to herself, and it doesn’t matter, because she’s going to talk to herself, anyway. a smile dawns on her face with all the luminescent joy of a brilliantly bright bulb. her nails click as she bluntly taps for harleen’s name in her phone. harls ♦️ ♠️ finally flashes across the screen.

“hey, harls. i’m always up for it. talk to me, baby.”

truly, if anyone knows how to quietly inspire joy in a very dour cat, it’s harleen. her gift is often swaying selina’s tempestuous moods on far more favorable directions.

her beaming expression is audible.

“specifics, please.”

[snkts]

"Do you have to be a mutant to join the X-Men? I don't got any powers but I've got persistance and a big old sledgehammer. Besides I look good in gold and black." From Harley

Oh boy.

Logan huffs an exhale and rolls his eyes. It's one of those days. He glances sidelong at Harley, shifting his weight to one heel as he examines her.

"Nah, been a handful of non-mutants on the team." He admits, fumbling in his pocket for a cigar. "But we don't pick just anyone. You gotta be made of the right stuff - and actually give a shit about us." He turns to her and gives her a more appraising look and asks,

"What've you done to help out my people? What're you willing to do?"

[normaltothemax]

@vigilanthe from here

“I ain’t scared of it hurtin’,” he snaps, scowling. Immediately, he feels bad for using such a sharp tone with Alfred, especially since he is (probably) brainwashed or mind-wiped or whatever. But Jason also doesn’t like it when adults act all condescending towards him. He may only be twelve, but it’s been years since he was some wide-eyed little kid. What with Willis getting drunk and beating the shit out of him on the regular, and his mom being high all the time, any sort of childish innocence he may have had was lost ages ago. And any that might’ve somehow survived all that disappeared during his time living on the streets of Gotham.

Still, he’s speaking the truth—he’s not afraid of a little pain. He just doesn’t like needles. Never had before, but especially not after watching his mom use them for years. Not after finding her dead on the couch from an overdose. The real Bruce knows that. He and Alfred, when he’s himself, know not to use them with Jason unless absolutely necessary—and they know how to keep him distracted when it is.

“…Alfred first,” he eventually agrees. “Me last. And you gotta tell me everything you’re doin’ and I wanna see it.” Usually, he wouldn’t have these sorts of trust issues with Bruce and Alfred, but these are special circumstances, he reasons. A blood test can’t tell them if Jason is from another universe, it can only rule out other possible explanations. Jason needs to make sure there are no other factors at play before deciding whether or not he wants to believe this guy really is alternate-dimension Bruce.

And in the meantime, he can question the guy some more. He glances at fake-Bruce quickly, eyes narrowed, before looking back to what Alfred is doing. “If you’re really Batman, then tell me why you decided to become Batman and not some other kind’a crimefightin’ furry.”

@comicwr1te

[normaltothemax]

@vigilanthe from here

There’s no stopping the way Jason’s eyes go wide as a giant wad of cash is pulled out and handed to him. “What’re you, nuts?” he squawks. “We’re in Crime fuckin’ Alley. You’re gonna get us killed!” His head is immediately on a swivel as he crams the money away in his backpack, hiding it as best as he can. Alright, maybe it’s irrational to be worried about getting jumped and mugged in an alley when he’s with Batman, but that’s so much fucking money! He didn’t think Batman was actually going to give it to him right out in the open like that! What, does he always have that much cash on him?

Turns out the guy that dresses up like a bat on the regular is insane—who would’ve thought?

The racing of Jason’s heart slows somewhat once the money is out of sight. When no one leaps out of the shadows and attacks them for it. He hugs the backpack tightly to his chest, lips tentatively pulling up into a cocky smirk. “I didn’t disable any alarms. Figured they’d all be hooked up to the body and the chassis. And I was right. So all I touched were the lugs and the rubber and bam! No alarms.” It’s a good feeling, knowing he outsmarted Batman like that. He would’ve gotten away with all four tires, too, if the man hadn’t showed up as soon as he had. “You gonna get me Batburger now? ‘Cause I ain’t eaten in, like, a week.” Not entirely true, but he doesn’t need to know that.

@comicwr1te

[freezerbrain]

@comicwr1te asked: ❛ you think you know me, but the truth is, you don’t. ❜ from jason

" alright. fine then. keep your secrets, " her eyes roll, though the dry humor in her tone has no actual malice. it's early and she's tired. they flip through one of the books on the shelf behind them. in earnest, it's a statement she can agree with. not a lot of people know her either. not really, not anymore. she knows what happens when she lets them in and she'd rather spend her time in books and maps and information.

" in seriousness does anybody? i don't think anyone truly knows anyone else. " she asks idly. when she doesn't find anything that actually interests her, she puts the book back and picks up a different one. " i mean, we all are just running around with masks on. it's hard to take them off. even more so for those of us who keep running around at night. "