#I have now become Bruce Wayne

[betterthanbatman1]

Today I woke up, had a dull ache in my body and could barley keep my eyes open despite it being past 1pm. I went to the kitchen to make breakfast. I looked out the window and saw such a cute little Robin. It only sat for a few moments before flying away. I was filled with this sort of melancholy feeling, like the little bird abandoned me, but also it was so beautiful as it flew past and I was just in awe of the nature and the world. Like wow, I share this world with this amazing, beautiful creature. What a beautiful world I live in. And then my toast popped up and the fire alarm went off and I couldn’t get it to stop on my own.

Just had the most Bruce Wayne moment of my life.

[fanaticalthings]

Bruce coming home one day to find Robin Jason clinging onto a chandelier with Dick below him cheering him on.

Bruce: Jason what are you doing?

Jason: Dick said that you missed his antics after he moved out and so he’s teaching me how to be a better son

Dick: After this we’re going to drive the Batmobile into the bay :D

Jason: We’re going to what? I mean yeah! Right into the water.

Jason trying to whisper to Dick: Dick I can’t swim though

This just further fuels the chaotic dynamic of Dick and Jason during a time where Dick was still going through his teenage angst and was absolutely not a benevolent role model LMAO

I mentioned it in this post, but it's just so funny to me to imagine a Jason who grew up with an absolutely WILD Dick Grayson as an older brother, while the younger batkids grew up with a more mellowed out and mature (arguable but when measured against the other kids, he wins by a landslide) Dick Grayson.

Robin!Jason era:

Dick: You wanna go out and get high?

Jason: I can't, I have homework.

Dick, sputtering: HOMEWORK?

----

Dick, about to do an elaborate (and totally not dangerous) acrobatic move in the manor: Watch this, littlewing

Jason: You shouldn't do that, it'll make Bruce upset.

Dick, on the brink of angry tears: Why are you like this.

----

Jason, dejected: Listen, I know you don't approve of me because you think I'm not good enough as Robin, but-

Dick: Not good enough as Robin? I don't care about that, I just think you're a little bitch

----

Dick taking Jason out on a hangout for the first time: OK, looks like I got my work cut out for me. Take out a notepad and write everything down. I will NOT have my successor embarrass me like this. So what you wanna do to piss off Bruce-

---

[Years later, Jason returning to Gotham with the fury of a thousand suns and the chaos to match it]: I'm gonna make your life a living HELL, Bruce

Dick, older and relatively more chilled out: Okayyyyy, maybe let's just– calm down a lil, haha, no need for the theatrics

Jason, betrayed, observing a Dick Grayson who is teaching his new younger siblings to behave and be mature: Dick, what the FUCK

-----

Present!Dick, mentoring Tim: Make sure not to be too impulsive, don't wanna raise Bruce's blood pressure

Red Hood!Jason spying on them from afar: Who even ARE you??

-----

Jason: So you teach me ALL of that, only to turn into the ONE thing you despised so greatly all those years ago

Dick, sweating: Well-

Jason: I'm ASHAMED. How can you be worthy of being called my PREDECESSOR?

[ferrouswheel11]

The moment that made Bruce the man he is today was the moment his parents were murdered in the alley. He thinks that that moment for Tim had or will have to do with the deaths of his parents as well, like it was for him, for Dick, for Jason, all children whose lives were changed forever by tragedy. He doesn't realize that that moment for Tim was a decade ago at Haly's Circus.

Bruce thinks that he and his mission are the poison, that prolonged exposure will eventually drag Tim down into the darkness he resides in (or worse, like it did to Jason). He thinks of the child he once was, remembers that he became the Bat so that no other child might be suffer that same loss, that same transformation that he has. He doesn't realize that Tim's path was set from the very first day he can remember.

Tim doesn't know how to be any different. How to be anything other than a boy who deduced Batman's secret identity by accident. A boy whose heroes inspired him to become a detective, to pick up computer skills, to learn to fight. A boy who cared enough about two strangers at the circus to risk his life for them a decade later.

Becoming Robin was just the culmination. Becoming Robin is when everything that made Tim Tim started to make sense. The night in the alley was the night Bruce’s life changed, but that night at the circus was the night Tim’s life began.

[little-pondhead]

DPxDC Prompt:

[this is a long one please forgive me]

Bruce lied to the others about his trip through time. Not all of it! Just…one specific thing.

During the early parts of his timeline hijinks, before Tim realized Bruce was still alive, he had a bit of a respite in between his endless time jumps. (Maybe a certain ghost was helping him out.) With a fuzzy memory at best and a strange itch to investigate the unknown, Bruce had been taken in by an old couple who had no kids but wanted to pass on the family name. And who better than a thirty-something amnesiac stranger who could actually be related by blood?

Bruce, with nowhere to go, accepted his new name, grew out his hair, and quickly got accepted into college for engineering. There, he met two of his closest friends; a redheaded woman who could kick his ass and a wet chicken of a man who could also kick his ass. They both made him nostalgic for something he didn’t remember, and that made him sad sometimes, but the two were always there to cheer him up.

Years passed, and Bruce’s life moved on. He settled well into his new name, mourned his parents when the eventually passed, celebrated his wedding with the redhead, and grieved when the last of their trio fell out of touch. He had a daughter, and then a son! They were both so smart, even if they didn’t share the same passion he had for exploring the science behind the afterlife. (Something about the dead just itched his brain in an infuriating way, and Bruce wasn’t one to let sleeping dogs lie. He just had to find out why he was so obsessed with this stuff!)

Eventually, his and his wife’s research yielded results, and that’s when bits of Bruce’s former life started coming back to him. After the portal opened, he spent his days with his head in a fog, oblivious to the world around him as he struggled to continue his work.

Why did he remember a boy named Dick? Who would name their child that? And Jason…who was Jason? That name always made him sad. There were more names, more faces, but none of them were his. He could never remember what his name was supposed to be. All he had was the one his adoptive parents gave him.

His wife was worried. His daughter was struggling. And his son…his son sometimes hurt to look at. Bruce didn’t know why. He knew he was being a terrible father, but something in him wanted to cry whenever he gazed at those clear blue eyes, just like his own. His son was too smart for his own good, and realized his dad had started avoiding him.

The day his son purposely left the room so Bruce could relax was one that hurt him even now.

Time kept passing, and Bruce was becoming anxious. His brain fog was as bad as its ever been. He had constant headaches, and his hands kept twitching for nonexistent tools on his belt. Something was going to happen. Something had happened. A voice in his head told him it was all his fault.

So in an attempt to clear his head and spend more time with his family, Bruce insisted they all go to dinner at the local diner. His son invited his friends. Even better! More people meant more distractions from his messed-up thoughts. He wouldn’t spiral with the kids around.

And then something exploded.

The last thing Bruce remembered was his son’s (green??) eyes widening in fear and horror as something yanked him violently backwards. He fell farther than expected, through a portal and a green sky full of black stars. A hand tightened on the back of his jumpsuit, hauling his giant body through another portal with a roar of a motorcycle.

And then…and then…and then what?

All of a sudden, Bruce was sprawled in some mud in the middle of a forest, dizzy and coughing from the explosion’s fumes. He’s singed all over, and his ears still rang from the force of the…what happened again?

Bruce sits up, and all of a sudden, he’s in the era of the pilgrims. His memory has been wiped clean, his new name and family forgotten thanks to the hands of time. His adventures through the time stream continue, with him assuming many different identities throughout many different decades.

The memories of being Jack Fenton don’t return to him until he’s back in 2004, once again in his own time and living as Bruce Wayne. A glowing green sticky note informs him that “The Nasty Burger Incident” had just occurred. His “other self” just had his ass dragged to another era, so the time loop would continue.

It also informed him that he had an orphaned son crying for him at Bruce’s own grave.

Well, his forgotten son (that sounded bad, even to him) was supposed to be about fourteen now, right? Bruce hopes he doesn’t have to fight anyone for custody.

[timblrdrake]

You want a bug? Uh, the bugs I have on hand are mayflies, fruit flies, cicada husks, freeze dried mealworms, freeze dried blood worms, and freeze dried crickets. Tomorrow I'm catching fresh grasshoppers, katydids, and crickets if you want those instead

(Nonny nonny)

PS,

I'm not the one eating the bugs

see, initially i didn’t think you were the one eating the bugs, but now i kind of do.

i appreciate the offer but i’m okay, the anonsects need to find me on their own, it’s about the journey not the destination

[dukeofthomas]

why is everyone so obsessed with absolving bruce of all responsibility and fault. like no actually he is not 100% innocent in the child vigilantes he did in fact literally just Yoink Jason and make him robin at the ripe age of 12. jason would Not have become a vigilante (or died!) if bruce hadn't made him that. like he is actually 100% responsible for picking up a kid and turning them into a soldier

[dracaelus]

Not enough writers exploring the idea of bruce retiring from batman and becoming the bats new tech guy once lucius fox dies/retires. Like, bruce is actually pretty good at coming up with new gadgets and incorporating new/alien technologies into the bat stuff so really, I think it would be really cool?? Also, he could help oracle on his free time, and I feel like this would work really well with his paranoid and controlling tendencies, and he would be thriving in a job like this. Not to mention that he would still be helping the league with strategies, research and the diplomatic stuff, so no need for him to stop working with them. And he still has his charity work as bruce wayne.

So my point is, while of course we can all agree that everything bruce does as batman is important, I wouldn't say that activelly being on the field is the most important of his tasks, especially by the time he gets old and has dozens of allies doing it with him. I mean, he already trained a lot of heroes to work in gotham and there's a few of them who are just as skilled as him, some who are even better, so really, him retiring from that and focusing on his other duties as he gets older feels very natural and a much more compelling plotline to follow than just yk killing him off and then having the batfam fight about who's gonna take the mantle (i don't even think someone needs to)

[starry-bi-sky]

just wanted to say that your thomas wayne au is making me swoon - baby bruce is the most adorable baby ever and they love each other so much 😭

(I saw you mentioned them meeting canon dc and I think everyone of the batfam would be unwillingly won over by this adorable baby and their grandad (and adult bruce would either be paralysed by emotion or start crying or both)) (and maybe there is no martha wayne, simply thomas and alfred raising the cutest and most troublesome baby 😏)

Aaaaahhh I'm so glad you like it 🥺 i love making aus that have the emotional effect of a gut punch on the Bats 🥰 its why 'Danny being a variant of Jason' is such a fun little au I have that I haven't shared here since its pretty convoluted imo.

And i absolutely agree you have it down pat that the canon DC Batfam would be unwillingly won over by Baby Bruce and Danny/Thomas frfr. Danny is so protective and affectionate with his little guy, and I have a personal headcanon that he teaches Bruce how to play piano after discovering an interest in it once he's adopted by the Waynes. (OH and when Bruce is older Danny sits him out in the gardens or on the roofs and shows him how to find constellations)

Danny finds out that the bruce in this world grew up without his parents and starts side-eyeing him HARD bc he wants to be affectionate to this version of His Boy but he doesnt want Bruce to react negatively to it

I'll also tell you a secret: the day Danny and Bruce are transported into the canon universe was the day Danny and Bruce were meant to end up in crime alley :) they were just about to leave the manor.

[leoleolovesdc]

POV: Bruce and Stephanie some years in the future, a week before the holidays

Stephanie: Hey, B. So, how are the holidays gonna be? Should I bring some food or- ?

Bruce, a bit uncomfortable about this conversation: Look, Stephanie, I am happy that you like spending so much time with us here at the manor, but you've been staying for christmas and thanksgiving with us in the last couple of years by now, shouldn't you go stay with your mom this time?

Stephanie, with an blank expression: My mom is dead, B.

Bruce: Wait, what?! Are you serious?

Stephanie: Uh, yeah?

Bruce, now extremely confused: But, how? I mean, when?

Stephanie: It's been three years or so.

Bruce: What?! Three years is a lot of time! Why didn't you tell me?!

Stephanie: I don't know, you never asked!

[reblogglelog]

I was doing my haha teehee post for this scene when I realized that Batman is a walking Trigger (capitol T) for Guy Gardner.

Sad Boy Hours: Guy Gardner

Guy Gardner has severe physical and psychological trauma. His dad is canonically physically and verbally abusive. Guy is pretty frank about it. So, Guy had problems before his frontal lobe got scrambled like an egg.

There are multiple times in the series where Bruce just has to give Guy an order and, counter to the way Guy acts with everyone else, Guy does what he's told. Now, it isn't every time. It wouldn't be Guy Gardner if he didn't try and piss off every human in existence. He knows they're going to find a reason to hate him, call him a piece of shit, so he'll give it to them on his terms. Because that's one way to cope with being the punching bag your whole life. Own it before someone else does. But, there are times Guy becomes timid in response to Bruce.

Guy Gardner doesn't know how to be quiet. There is nothing about this man that allows for subtly. It is physically impossible. The only reason Guy would be quiet is if it was to be bitchy and petulant, but that's not happening here. He's whispering and his eyes are on Bruce's hand, the hand that is gripping his shoulder hard enough to wrinkle the fabric. Guy looks stricken. The little motion lines around his head look like shaking. It's a jarring switch from the frothing man in the panel before.

All Bruce did was tell Guy to say he was sorry. Just to apologize. And he grabs Guy's shoulder. Guy doesn't have all his social tools anymore, but he has muscle memory and flight-fight-freeze, and he's using what he's got.

The "It's a start." is so disappointedly paternal. "It's a start" implies there will be more later. And later is never good.

I know it's not that deep, it's the 80s, they needed someone to be the team asshole. But, I'm also right because my brain is so juicy. Bruce is a walking trigger for Guy Gardner with his perpetual "Angry Dad" energy and the the fact that Bruce is the only one who can get away with bossing Guy around is a by-product of how thoroughly fucked up Guy's head is.

[rachiebeee]

guys what if i made a medieval dc au [gunshot]

[batgeance]

god bruce fucking hates talking to wayne execs and financial advisors

[alleybats-cat]

Considering the city's DA died in The Batman, I imagine Harvey Dent will be in the second Reeves Batman movie.

[snaileer]

Practice your Skills - p2

Dick sat in the tensely quiet car trying his best not to fidget. It’s not entirely silent of course, Barbara is talking over the radio to Bruce about the nights oncoming patrol and Bruce is… not contributing to the conversation, but a part of it at the very least.

Maybe it’s just Dick feeling the near purposeful silence coming from Damian in the backseat. He’d been irritated about being the only other one coming to the gala, and sure, they’d had that hiccup with the stabbing attempt, but that was par for the course.

Dick thought he’d handled it well, all sharp pointy things considered.

Clearly not, if the pensive storm of silence emanating from behind him was any key.

“So Damian…” Dick starts, unsure, but hey it’s not like he can expect Bruce to notice, “I just wanted to make sure everything was okay after the gala.”

A pause.

“Everything. Is Fine.” Damian grits out.

Even Bruce perks up at the tone, so something is definitely up.

“Be that as it may…I wanted to make sure you didn’t take my words wrong, I just thought we’d gotten past-“

“It was not you,” Damian snaps.

Dick blinks, sharing a moment of questioning eye contact with Bruce next to him.

Just as he opens his mouth to speak again, Damian interrupts.

“It was Masters.”

Dick quirks an eyebrow, “The guy you tried to stab?”

Damian’s face twists into a sneer, “Yes. Though if he had not tried to restrain me I would not have been so tempted to maim him. The encounter was merely meant to be a practice hit, a….”Damian looks away out the window, “A demonstration.”

“You said that before. A demonstration for who, Damian?”

His face resets into his typical scowl and for a second, Dick thinks that’s all they’ll get, that he’ll leave it there, but Damian turns away from the window to look down at his hands clenched in his lap.

“There was… a boy. With Masters,” Damian finally makes eye contact through the rearview mirror, “We.. interacted during the festivities, demonstrating our shared capabilities to move past other’s defenses.”

Dick squints, blinking repeatedly as he tries to decode Damian’s words, “You guys spent the night…. pretend stabbing people?”

“Tt. It was nothing so juvenile,” Damian scoffs, “We simply found our interests for the evening aligned and shared a demonstration to each other. As I said.”

“Of course,” Dick nods seriously despite the smile on his face, “But why does that have your feathers ruffled, Baby bat?”

Damian takes a deep breath, eyelids flickering closed for a second, and when they made eye contact again, his eyes were softer than Dick had ever seen him.

“He was afraid. After my interaction with Masters, he disappeared. I thought he ran. But he was accepting of my approach just before our departure…” Damian pauses, “He was only afraid in Masters’ presence.”

Dick watches in his peripheral vision as Bruce’s knuckles tighten over the steering wheel.

They’re already on the bridge, it’s too late to take a shorter route directly to the cave. But oh how Dick wishes it wasn’t, this has everything wrong written all over it.

“What was his name?” Dick can feel the Nightwing seep into his voice and tries to control it.

“Daniel Fenton, though he said that it would be Daniel Masters by technicality.”

Bruce taps the speaker button of their radio, keying in Oracle, “Compile information on Vladimir Masters, and any connections to a Daniel, surname alternatively Fenton and Masters both, as well as a timeframe of interaction and all film from tonight’s gala. Both were present,” Bruce orders as they enter Bristol.

“On it,” Oracle’s distorted voice replies. Dick can almost imagine her nod as her face sets and she gets to work.

“Father?”

Dick looks back at Damian, finding him staring intently at Bruce’s gruff profile in the front seat.

“Trusting your instincts is one of the most primary parts of being a detective,” Bruce recites, “I’m trusting your instincts, Damian. If you’re suspicious of Masters, we will follow through.”

Damian’s eyebrows raise slightly, eyes widening, “Oh.”

Any response is cut short by their arrival to the Batcave through a side entrance. Oracle already has the files on the large screen, details still appearing as she works. Clearly Dick is going to need to remind her to sleep tonight.

“Vlad Masters, millionaire packers fan, modest beginnings, lab accident in college, came out of it and immediately began a rise to riches through suspiciously beneficial business deals,” Oracle reads out as she adds more business contracts to the screen, “Sounds like that lab accident was the most beneficial thing, he’s likely an early age meta.”

Bruce hums lowly in agreement, and Dick can already tell his mind is spinning with contingencies and plans.

Oracle continues, “Reconnected with Madeline and Jack Fenton, mutual friends from college now married, and moved to a small town in Illinois to be closer after their reunion. Became mayor of that small town and after the parents left to travel abroad, on Vlad’s funding, and with the sister away for college, he is now guardian of one Daniel Masters nee Fenton, due to one spectacularly expedited name change and a handful of temporary guardianship papers.”

Bruce’s eyes narrow as he stares up at the images on the screen, a young Vlad, some pictures of press reports after his business deals, his mayoral election, and a handful of shots of him standing next to a young black-haired teenager.

Dick catalogs the tenseness of the teenager in every picture, and feels an uncomfortable familiarity to Slade at the look in Vlad’s eyes.

It makes his own shoulders tense with the feeling of being owned. Possessed.

“This sleazebag is the reason Barbie practically confiscated the Batcomputer from me?”

Dick turns to see Jason walk out from their armory storage, everything but his helmet on. Making the sneer he casts at the screen perfectly visible.

“Hood,” Bruce grunts.

“Don’t worry, old man, I’ll be out of here soon, I was running some forensics before O kicked me off,” Jason says as he walks past them with heavy footsteps.

“We have a case,” Bruce says, making Dick roll his eyes. Really? Not a single hint of ‘I’m happy to see you, Jason’?

“What, rich guy taking in a black-haired blue eyed kid? Gee, sounds familiar. Someone stealing your act, B?” Jason looks back as he reaches his motorcycle, “I’ll keep an eye out for any child soldiers in leotards- oh wait,” He casts them a deadpan look before hooking a leg over his bike.

“Hood-“ Dick starts.

“Besides,” Hood snarls, slamming his red helmet on his head, “You wouldn’t like the way I deal with him.”

The retreating roar of his engine is enough to push Dick towards the batcomputer instead of watching Bruce stare longingly down the tunnel.

What he sees paints an increasingly bad picture. One that’s unfortunately pretty close to what they expected.

“B, come look at this,” Dick calls, feeling the weight of his presence approach over his shoulder.

“We don’t have an accurate timeline for their first meeting, but if Daniel’s dip in grades is any indication, Vlad has been around for barely two years, and now he’s Daniel’s guardian? Something’s wrong with that picture Bruce.”

“Hn.”

Dick continues flickering through the compiled history, now more recent, “Traveling away from Daniel’s hometown, homeschooling him, B, this is textbook isolation.”

“Tt, clearly Fenton required my demonstration so he can attempt it himself. If I was thwarted then his own chances of success against Masters are abysmal,”Damian sniffs.

“That’s why we’re here. Get suited up, we’ll add a stakeout to tonight’s patrol,” Bruce says, turning to the suit cases in a way that’s meant to make the bat cape swirl ominously.

Dick glances one last time at the blown up image of Vlad Masters on the screen, his cold eyes seem to loom over them. Even by the same scale, Daniel Fenton looks small next to him.

Determination rises as Dick turns on his heel towards his own suit.

Time to get to work.

—

Danny stares at the dull eggshell white of the hotel suite’s ceiling above his bed. Despite the lights being off, he knows it’s eggshell white and not the beige-blue it appears to be because he spent most of the daylight hours staring at it too.

Danny tries not to think about the fact Vlad is barely a room away.

He tries not to think of the fact that Vlad sent his parents an entire ocean away.

He tries not think of the fact that Vlad has torn him away from the place he’s known all his life, tries not to think of how he’s stuck here, how he’s stuck with Vlad, can’t get away from him, no matter how he tries, tries not to think of the times that he’s not even in control of his own body, trapped in his own mind with his powers tucked away under chains, of the times that Vlad simply makes him act like his perfect son.

Danny snaps his eyes open.

The eggshell white ceiling stares back at him.

He traces the pale light shining across it from the window until a shadow rushes past it.

Immediately, Danny whips his head to the window, raising from the bed with a sense of curiosity.

He stares out of the window into Gotham’s streetlit darkness, and thinks he sees something dipping through the shadows.

Danny again curses Vlad, slamming his fist in irritation at the loss of his night vision. It’s too soon after the taser but he still tries anyways, feeling nothing but the sore tugging of his core in return and the flicker of green eyes in the window.

The hair on his arms prickles.

Just as he’s about to turn away from the window to continue staring aimlessly at the ceiling, a hand clamps down on his shoulder.

“Little Badger,” Vlad’s voice purrs lowly, “Watching the nightlife are we?”

Danny knows better than to shrug off Vlad’s hand, but that doesn’t stop the urge to drive his elbow into the fruit loop’s sternum, “I was just heading to bed,” He says almost robotically. He just wants this interaction to be over.

As he tries to turn away, Vlad’s hand tightens to keep him in place, “Ah ah ah, Daniel, I want to have a conversation with you,” The grip turns painful and Danny grits his teeth, “It’s bad manners to walk away from someone when they’re talking to you.”

Danny lets himself be turned enough to face Vlad, even just to glare at him, “What? Our little talk earlier wasn’t enough for you? You gonna tase me again like you did at the gala?”

Vlad scowl turns into a vicious sneer, “We can have this argument as many times as you need, Daniel. You are mine, I’ve sent your parents on their dream haunted tour of Europe instead of simply killing your imbecilic father, so perhaps instead of fighting me, you should be grateful.”

Danny sighs through clenched teeth, “What did you want, Vlad?”

Vlad hesitates, eyes scanning him for disobedience before speaking, “I have a business meeting tomorrow-“

“And let me guess, you want me to tag along to make you look good?” Danny scowls.

Vlad’s eyes darken in warning, “I’d thought after Chicago you’d desire to stay back,” he pauses to let Danny remember, “Perhaps I was wrong?” He questions with a raised eyebrow.

Danny feels his heart jump a beat, his muscles tense, remembering the sight of Vlad possessing the CEO, forcing the man to hold a gun to his own head, of knowing exactly the feeling of trying to fight your own body- because that moment had been one of the very first times in months Danny had been free from under Vlad, and it was only because Vlad needed to prove a point to Danny, only because Danny had tried to reach out, had tried to help someone else-

And someone else had paid the price.

So instead of snapping back with any number of scathing, cutting insults, Danny swallows his words and simply nods.

“I’ll stay here.”

Vlad smiles, smarmy and smug, “Good choice Daniel,” He lifts his hand away to wave it in the air as he talks, “I’ll have food delivered of course, make sure to keep up with your studies, I’d hate to have a repeat of last time and have to teach your lessons personally."

Danny clenches his fists by his sides, nails digging into his palms, “Of course not.”

“And Daniel?” Vlad says, stopping at the door.

“What, Fruitloop?”

Vlad’s eyes glow deadly red as he expands his aura over the suite room, “Don’t ever embarrass me at a Gala like that again.”

Danny forces himself to meet Vlad’s eyes, “I won’t,” he whispers.

Vlad shuts the door solidly behind him, leaving Danny alone.

For those who wanted a tag:

@justanormalpersin @rain-bitch @i-miss-breathing @marshmelloe @whitewintertiger @flamey-comet @cyber-geist @akikkobara @feral-bunny31 @tkiesai @rootsmudge

Practice Your Skills

“You ever look at someone and wonder how hard it would be to get past their defenses and stab them?”

Damian snapped his head to the side, looking at the young boy now standing beside him.

The boy put his hands up in front of him with a wince, “Not that I ever do that. Totally not, whaaaat???”

Damian huffed and turned back around to watch the gala participants.

“It’s just you kinda looked like you were contemplating the logistics of stabbing Mrs.Halterguild for squeezing your cheeks.”

Damian scowled. Then, after a moment’s beat, “It would not be very difficult. She is nearly blind in her left eye, I would be able to approach without repost.”

The kid hummed, turning back as well before motioning to another group to the far right, “What about Mr. Beckensmith, he’s a retired vet right?”

Damian rolled his eyes and scowled harder, “The man has only seen the battlefield of an office as he bribed his way from being fully enlisted and instead managed to pay for increasingly higher ranks and medals. He is a disgrace.”

The kid cocked his head to the side, looking suspicious for a second and then nodding with concession, “Fair enough, I bet I could get close enough too.”

Damian scoffed.

“What, don’t believe me?”

Damian leveled a doubtful glare at the civilian, making it clear by looking him up and down, “Hardly.”

The other smirked dangerously, “If I can get close enough to poke him and get away without being noticed, will you believe me?”

Damian narrowed his eyes but nodded succinctly and watched as the boy immediately took off, making a few loops around other people before finally backing up to Mr. Beckensmith and poking him on the opposite side as a group moved past.

Damian pursed his lips. Interesting. Certainly better than he would expect from an amateur. And an amateur civilian at that.

When the boy returns to his side Damian brushes off the asks of meaningless praise.

“Come on, I did it, now you have to go poke Mrs. Halterguild without getting caught.”

Damian sneers, “And why would I do that?”

“Because I don’t believe you either, the woman’s old but I bet she sees you and squeezes your cheeks again. Old ladies just have a sixth sense for that stuff you know.”

Damian nearly growls but sets off on his task. He makes sure to stay on her left side, but the woman turns at the last second, forcing Damian to use a passing waiter as cover to remain hidden and finally get close enough to poke her gaudy dress.

Then he sidles back up to the boy on the edges and provides his best ‘I am more capable than you’ scowl. The boy simply laughs and says, “Who’s next?”

They spend the night like that, choosing each other’s targets to attack non-lethally as though they were attempting to stab them, and Damian finds the gala going by in a significantly less tedious manner.

Right up until the boy laughs at him when he chooses a target. Only one bark of laughter escapes, but it is enough for Damian to consider stabbing him as well. If only with a butter knife.

Instead, Damian grinds his teeth and asks, “What is so different about Masters, do you really believe you would be unable to succeed?”

The other gives a breathless chuckle, “I’m pretty sure even you wouldn’t be able to successfully stab Vlad Masters,” The boy’s shoulders sag even as his jaw tightens with irritation, “He sees everything.”

Damian narrows his eyes. Something naws at the back of his brain but currently the critique of his capabilities takes precedence.

“I would be capable of stabbing Masters even without my favored sword,” Damian scowls and stands taller with annoyance.

“Sure you can, man,” At this, the boy quirks a sharp smile, “If you can actually get him, I’ll personally get you a magic sword,” he says with an air of amused indulgence. Like he thinks Damian is some insipid child saying he will find a fairy.

Damian grits his teeth and shakes the other’s hand, then immediately sets off after his target. How dare this civilian question him! He is the Son of the Bat, this is not even a challenge!

Damian growls as his approach is thwarted for the third time by the man turning in his direction and almost spotting him. How dare he! He will not fail!

Just as he reaches to jab the man in the side, already poised to make his escape, Masters whips around and clamps his fingers around Damian’s wrist with a vice grip.

“Really Daniel I thought we were over-“ Masters pauses, looking at Damian critically as he glares at the man’s offending hand, “You are not young Daniel.”

“Remove your hand from my person at once,” Damian growls.

Instead of listening to Damian’s very sensible directions, Masters tightens his grip and twists his arm, most likely in an attempt to hurt him.

“Now why is a child attempting to-“

Damian doesn’t wait to hear the rest of the man’s words, sliding a dagger into his other hand and swinging towards him, until that hand is caught mid-movement as well.

“Heh-Hey there!”

Damian snaps his head to the side just in time to see Grayson take his dagger and slide it into his pocket. He ignores the bark of laughter he hears from across the room.

Masters’ hand disappears from his arm suspiciously fast, “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure!”

Damian looks over his other shoulder to see his father standing behind him, a thin smile on his face, “Vladimir!”

His father’s figure quickly obscures his vision, putting an arm over Masters’ shoulders in a way that clearly makes him irritated but forces him to follow as he is steered away.

“Dami, I thought we talked about the stabbing at formal events,” Grayson says through a strained smile as he looks over the crowd to make sure no else saw.

“Tt, it was merely a demonstration of my skills, he was in no real danger until he refused to release me. I simply sought to correct that mistake.”

Grayson pinchesthe bridge of his nose, “Demonstration for who, Dames? We all already know your skills.”

“Tt,” Damian scowls and turns away.

Instead of pushing it, Grayson simply sighs heavily, “Just stay out of trouble for the rest of the gala okay? We’re almost done.”

Damian scoffed and waited for Grayson to leave. Once he does, Damian finally looks over to where he had been lingering with the boy.

Gone.

Clearly he’d taken the cowards way out when he’d seen that Damian had been accosted by Masters.

Pitiful.

Damian spends the rest of the night scowling from the wall and looking serendipitously for a head of black hair and blue eyes unrelated to him.

Of course it’s not until they are actively leaving that Damian sees him and immediately splits off of from his family.

He approaches with irritation, preparing to grab the other by the shoulder when suddenly he turns around and blue eyes meet Damian’s green.

“You,” Damian sneers.

“Me,” The other shrugs. He has an amused smile on his face, though it’s strained at the edges.

They stare in silence for a minute, before the other’s smile grows and sharpens once more, “I didn’t expect you to actually try to stab him, y’know,” A slight laugh escapes him, “Not that it was unwelcome by any means, but still, unexpected.”

Damian scowls again, glaring at this foolish civilian.

“Oh, I never introduced myself did I?!”

The boy exclaims and holds out a hand, smile dangerous, “Daniel Fenton. Or if we’re being technical,” a pause as Damian finally returns the gesture and finds his hand trapped, “Daniel Masters, a pleasure to meet you Damian.”

“Hurry up little badger,” A voice says beside them, and Damian notices that it is indeed Vladimir Masters.

The man approaches, placing a heavy hand on Fenton’s shoulder, making the boy go taut, and then they both step into a dark car, leaving Damian on the front steps.

Damian’s anger flares and he shoots a glare directly to the boy getting into the car. It dies the moment they meet eyes and Damian sees the fear hiding in the other’s eyes.

Fear that Damian is all too familiar with.

Fear that reminded Damian of himself. Reminded him of his own eyes when he’d been under his grandfather.

But why did Fenton look like that?

[sweetteaanddragons]

I have been thinking lately about a universe where Bruce Wayne killed the Joker.

I want to be clear here, since there are so many longstanding debates on this topic: I do not think Bruce Wayne should kill the Joker. I have just been wondering what would happen if the circumstances aligned in such a way that he did.

And to be clear on a related, yet slightly different topic: when I say I have been wondering about what if Bruce Wayne killed the Joker, I do not mean as the Batman. I mean Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.

Maybe it's kind of an accident? Like, he definitely did intend to hit the Joker, but he's Brucie right now, so he's trying not to look like he knows what he's doing while still doing enough damage to keep the Joker from killing someone, and meanwhile the Joker makes just the wrong move and -

And here we are. Brucie just killed the Joker.

Bruce's reaction here is one thing; he has his one rule for a reason, he's just broken it, he's determined to turn himself in -

His family's reaction is a whole different story. How does Cass feel about this?

How does Jason? Bruce has killed the Joker, just like he wanted, but it wasn't for him, not really, and -

And meanwhile, this happens in front of, say, a gala full of people, so now all of Gotham gets to react to it too.

Average Gothamite, seeing the words BRUCE WAYNE, JOKER, and KILLED in the same headline: OH, NO.

Average Gothamite, once they've processed the order those words are actually in: . . . I did not have that on this year's bingo card.

The city's most famous mass murderer has just been publicly killed by the city's biggest employer/philanthropist/source of tabloid harmless nonsense! Three days before Brucie was making tabloid headlines by tripping into a fountain and somehow losing his shirt in the process! Two weeks before, the newspaper was running a retrospective on the Wayne murders and what donation Brucie was making to help the families of victims this year! The article mentioned how one of his adopted sons had also tragically become a murder victim!

Now this has happened, and Bruce is having a breakdown over breaking his one rule, and the rest of Gotham just assumes that this is because poor Brucie thinks this somehow makes him like the man who killed his parents. They send a huge outpouring of support his way. This in no way helps Bruce's actual breakdown.

Ninety percent of Gotham is sure Brucie didn't actually mean to kill the Joker, and pretty much a hundred percent of them support him whether he meant to do it or not. No one wants to have anything to do with prosecuting this mess. Bruce is trying to make it as clear as possible that he will fully cooperate with the justice system and meanwhile an entire gala full of people is suddenly acting like they could in no way have possibly witnessed events that took place ten feet in front of their faces. Did Bruce kill the Joker? Is the officer sure? That doesn't seem like him. Maybe the Joker just tripped on his own. Marble floors, you know. Very slippery.

[nightingale-prompts]

The Nightingale Family-DC x DP prompt

(Shameless Addams family inspired prompt)

News travels fast in Gotham, especially in affluent circles. A new family has arrived in the city, old money at that. They had taken up residents in the old mansion overlooking the Historic Gotham Graveyard.

The Nightingales had a way of letting their presence be known. They were rarely seen in public. The eldest Jasmine Nightingale however had made waves working at the Gotham Asylum as a psychologist. She was often escorted by her younger brother Dan Nightingale. The public really started talking when Jazz was seen talking with Harley Quinn.

There were two children that lived in the Nightingale manor. They were elusive to say the least as the family didn't attend the parties of Gotham.

It wasn't until Damian Wayne got an invite from his classmate Danielle to visit their manor that someone saw the lives of Nightingales. This invite had been received after Damian carefully befriended the youngest Nightingale to investigate their connections.

That's how the Waynes ended up at a dinner party.

The manor was bleak to say the least and that's saying something in Gotham. The buildingbwas made from black stones and gargoyles perched on the roof. The garden was wilted and full of thrones that crept up the walls.

Bruce felt a sense of Deja vu as he approached the door and rang the bell. Tower bells rang out as the face of Jasmine Nightingale appeared. She was dressed in black dress pants and blazer. Her lips were painted to match. Her red hair had a striking white streak through it which had become a fashion trend since the family's arrival to girls wanting to seem mysterious.

"Good Evening. It is so nice to meet the infamous Waynes." She shook Bruce's hand. Behind her, the sounds of clanking metal was heard. "That is just my younger siblings playing. You don't you boys join while I talk to your father.

Despite only being a fresh-faced 20 year old Jazz carried herself like a confident adult. A certified genius in psychology who graduated early she also handled the inmates at the Asylum well enough that escapes are at an all time low.

"She's got it all" was what Harley said.

Bruce's admiration of the young lady was only matched by his suspicion. The house the Nightingales lived y had once belonged to the Al Ghouls. There was no telling yet if there was a connection.

He took a seat in the living room with Jazz tea already prepared. She poured two cups of black tea. Not black as in the type of tea but the color of the drink. Bruce cautiously sniffed the black liquid, it smelled earthy and acidic. Poison.

"Do you like it? I made it myself. I added the belladonna myself. It has a sweet taste so you don't need sugar. The kids have sweet tooths but we avoid added sugars. They love nightshade." She smiled drinking.

Bruce put the cup down. So they drink poison at a young age. They must be part of The League of Assassins. But why are they here?

"If you don't mind me asking. Why did you move to Gotham? Your parents-" Jazz put a hand up as she finished her cup.

"Mr. Wayne I'm sure you are no stranger to parents leaving before their time nor the concept that not all parents deserve children. Now I can't confirm or deny if that is the case for use but you can understand that it's a private matter." Jazz said sternly.

That wasn't an answer.

Upstairs Danny and Danielle played with Elle's new toys. Swords from Dan's trip to Portugal. He even sharpened them. They were currently tearing through the mansion.

Tim and Damian caught them while Danny had successfully pinned Elle to the ground.

"Dami! Help!" Elle yelled catching Danny off guard as Damian tackled Danny to the ground.

"Alright, alright. You can go next." Danny rolling Damian off him and passing him the sword. "Im taking a break."

Danny loved playing with his little sister but baby games are tiring.

"They let you play with swords," Tim exclaimed. This wasn't something he expected, sure it was normal for Damian but Damian is weird and was raised by assassins. Damian didn't do it for fun, it was training.

Damian and Danielle ran off while fencing.

"You must be one of the Waynes. Elle has been excited to have your brother over." Danny said politely if not a bit dismissive.

"Eh, yeah. Your sister said we should join you." Tim said a bit awkward. " You have another brother right?"

"Oh, yeah. He travels alot but he's relaxing right now. He's probably swimming." Danny shrugged.

Tim had heard of Danny. They went to the same school but Danny was part of a program that allowed him to come to school when he felt like it. The program is for young engineers who want to work for Wayne Industries. He mostly worked on small experimental projects. So far Danny's superconductor tech was revolutionary but impossible to replicate. Danny somehow managed to make a more effective coolant than anything they had created in the lab.

"You have a pool?" Tim knew that the mansion didn't have a pool.

"Of water? No." Danny shrugged but gave no further answer.

"I see, so what do you do?" Tim tried to sound normal like he was talking to his friends and not someone he was trying to probe.

"Anything, everything. I was going to recalibrate my telescope but I have a laser to test." Danny walked off expecting Tim to follow.

Testing was just cut a bunch of things in half. Tim got some great info on making an explosive ice canister and foam bombs. Tim made sure to get his number to hire him to make some gear for him.

The Nightingale kids were absolutely lawless. They destroyed everything in their path.

Elle had dragged Damian to her room to show off her toys. She used to travel with Dan until she started school. She picked up a bunch of items. Cult artifacts, shrunken heads, voodoo dolls, cursed puppets, knives, swords, and the homemade taxidermy Elle made from roadkill. She also had a pet dodo bird named Ernesto who had a bed next to her bed. Ernesto took a liking to Damian and sat on his head. The way he shows his affection

Soon enough Dan came upstairs to check on Elle and Danny.

"You kids, need to get ready for dinner. Sharpen your nails and teeth." He said before going back to the kitchen.

"What does that mean?" Damian asked.

"You don't sharpen your nails. Well good luck at dinner." Elle said bemused.

Dinner was...horrifying. Watching the family chat happily as they ripped apart the moving food as it came to life. Damian was actually excited as he skewered the cheese and broccoli casserole that screamed at him.

"Father, why can't we do this at our home?" He asked.