#bruce ic

[dramatisperscnae]

@arobinwithoutbatman

Ooohhhhh no. Noooooo no no no no no not now! This is the worst time for this! Okay... okay... just breathe. Mid patrol is the absolute worst time to feel that itch under his skin and hear that static in his ears. In his defence, it's been a long few nights plus attending school and he's only just gotten over the mess with Azrael and he hasn't exactly had a chance to mention his broken brain to Bruce. Not that he really wants to... Robin will likely be taken away. But he can't exactly hide the way he's getting more agitated by the sound of distant sirens. Everything has been scratching and grating at his frayed nerves for the last couple of days, he hasn't had a minute to just be. There's always something. And he feels like he's going to vibrate out of his skin and he just wants dark and quiet and... and... he's hiding under Batman's cape before he fully registers what he's doing.

It's taken a little adjustment, coming back to the suit after Bane. There are nights when, even after Shondra healed his back perfectly, he still feels that phantom pain, still wakes up in a cold sweat panicking about not feeling his legs. Add that to trying to mitigate the damage Jean-Paul did while wearing the cowl, and Bruce has had quite a lot on his mind in the past few weeks.

Enough, in fact, that he hasn't even noticed Tim having issues. The boy is surprisingly capable, and while they've been pulling some long hours recently it shouldn't be too much for the lad. And he'll speak up if he does have trouble, or so Bruce assumes; Tim's been fairly forthright about such things in the past, unafraid to speak his mind and even badger him into basic self-care when needed.

That should never have been Tim's job, of course, but by now that's a very moot point.

Shifting his weight, Bruce is about to rise from his crouch on the edge of the roof only to pause when he feels the weight against his back, the faint warmth through the suit that has his heart stuttering for a moment. Fortunately he catches the name he was about to say even as he glances back; this is Tim.

Tim, not Jason.

And Tim looks…overwhelmed. A shade too pale, head ducked down, breath uneven…

"Robin?" He keeps his voice low. Soft. Audible over the ambient sounds of the city, but hopefully gentle enough not to make things worse.

[ditzybat]

tim: sweet dog you got there. gordon: yes, this is our new drug-sniffing dog. tim: still training huh? gordon: red robin.. what do you mean? tim: ... tim: nevermind...

[anima89]

A Wayne family trip to Metropolis <3

Of course, they will wear their own merch ^^

Inspired by this! V

Heheheheh.

[dramatisperscnae]

Bruce takes a moment, studies Jason as the boy drinks. Just how long Jason was with the League he has no idea, but he knows how Damian acts when he's hurt, and he knows just how badly Jason was injured in that last fight. There's no way on earth the boy isn't in pain, but if Damian's behavior is anything to go by then the League forbids any hint of showing such things.

At all.

Ever.

Fucking ridiculous, as far as Bruce is concerned, but that's a conversation they can have later. Dick's already been working with Damian on some of that, unlearning all the things the League taught him; hopefully things will be a little easier with Jason.

For now, Bruce just moves to reconnect the IV line. "It's saline," he says, making sure Jason can see his hands clearly as he works. "With painkillers. Once this bag is done we'll switch you over to pills."

Then he looks up at Jason, reaching out to gently ruffle his son's hair. "…You did exactly what you should have. You saved your brother. And as for his attitude, we've…we're working on it. He's taken to Dick almost like a duckling, which has helped a little with his culture shock, but there's still a lot he has to unlearn."

Bruce pauses for a moment then, hesitating before managing five more words, soft and quiet but very, very much meant.

"...I'm proud of you, Jason."

The water’s room temperature, has probably been sitting on the bedside table for god only knows how long, but it’s the best thing Jason’s tasted in his life. Both of them. He has to force himself not to just chug the whole thing, then and there. Takes a sip and swishes it around in his mouth for a moment before he swallows. It doesn’t help much with the taste being unconscious for so long left behind, but the small bit it does is welcomed.

He takes a few more sips before passing the glass back to Bruce. Stretching to put it on the bedside table closest to him would be a stupid move, as would holding it resting on his stomach, heavily bandaged as his torso is. He’s in a lot of pain, right now, but he doesn’t breathe a word of it. Doesn’t ask to be hooked back up to the painkillers. Keeps all that pain out of his expression.

Doing anything else might as well be a (second) death sentence. Logically, he knows that’s not true, here. But, well, it’s like they say—you can take the boy out of the League…

His shoulders release a bit of tension at the confirmation of the brat’s safety and he nods. “Good. That’s good.” Means Jason didn’t go through all that hell for nothing. He’s not sure what he’d do if he found out the kid had just gotten captured and carted back to Ra’s anyways.

A small shrug is given, fingers picking at a stray thread on the blanket laying across his lap. “Yeah, well. It was that or let Ra’s possess him, and it’s not like Talia was doing shit about it. Kid’s a goddamn feral gremlin that got fed after midnight, but…he doesn’t deserve that.”

He hesitates, before continuing. “I…wasn’t sure if you’d answer it, honestly. I mean, I hoped you’d at least be curious, if he needed to use it, but. I dunno. I just wanted to give him the best shot at getting to you in one piece, since I couldn’t go with him to protect him.”

[mamawasatesttube]

the whole "jason rules crime alley and none of the other bats are allowed there!!1!" thing is so funny like. tim LITERALLY lives in the theater where bruce's parents died,

[enticeless]

Bruce *i can never truly punish my kids cause theyve already been through so much* Wayne x Hal *they're teenagers, either you run them or they run you and my track days are over* Jordan

~

Bruce: -of all the idiotic, dangerous stunts! Over forty injured, five in critical condition, and we almost lost two civilians in the field today! You are hereby banned from patrol for the foreseeable future! From now on it's the manor and school and that's it! I hope the free time will give you some space to reflect-.

Hal: *coughs*

Bruce:...no phone, no tablet, no laptop, no electronics outside of the family computer room-.

Hal:*coughs*

Bruce:-you'll also be helping Alfred around the manor since your nights will be free-.

Hal:*coughs*

Bruce:-you'll be front and center for the galas and fundraisers next month-.

Hal: *coughs*

Bruce:- for the next three months! And you can forget about joining Hal in space this summer!

Hal: *thumbs up*

[jetslay]

World's Bestest.

[dramatisperscnae]

Each of his boys proteges has had something they excel at. One thing that stands out above everything else. Dick's acrobatics, Jason's tenacity…all of it is on his mind as he watches Tim work. Watches him move through the kick himself, watches his balance waver, watches him try again.

And again.

Tim's specialty, Bruce is coming to learn, is his diligence. His attention to detail, certainly, as well as his observational skills, but most especially his diligence. The boy doesn't give up easily - or at all from what Bruce has seen of him - and he doesn't shy away from hard work.

Neither does he demand to be handed the answers. Certainly, now that Tim's slowing himself down, Bruce can see exactly what he's doing wrong, when it's happening, and how to correct it…but he doesn't need to tell the boy. He can see the moment that it clicks for Tim, the sudden shift in the boy's stance and posture, the smoother movement that follows.

"…Better," Bruce offers with the slightest of smiles. Of course he's proud of the boy; the ability to study oneself critically, to find one's own mistakes, is an important one. "Now keep doing it. Your body has to learn the right movement, and you will have to continually re-teach it until you stop growing. Run all your usual drills at that speed for a week and we'll see what the results are."

Ice blue eyes remain fixed on Bruce's movements, watching the way limbs and joints move and how the muscles flex, picking out where things line up. Watching Bruce move slow and understanding how slow is smooth and therefore, smooth is fast. Every movement, every flex, every angle. He's watching and memorising.

Tim isn't fluid like Dick, appearing to completely lack bones sometimes with the way he can twist and bend himself.

He stands next to Bruce, copying the movements he'd just witnessed. Shift his balance, raise his knee, aim- ...his balance is off. Try again.

Readjust. Knee up, aim, kick... that didn't feel right either. Leg back in aim again.

Tim also doesn't hit hard like Jason had. He can only imagine the kind of physical power house Jason might have grown to be if he'd had the chance.

Kick... okay there's the problem. The leg doesn't look right. Think about it... compare it to how Bruce's leg looked... back to neutral and extend again. And again. And again. Ah hah! His whole leg is turning inward, it's not just his hip that's shifting. Back to neutral. Try. Again. Knee up, aim, slowly extend the leg for now. In and out until he can keep his leg turned out where it's supposed to be.

But what Tim does have is persistence and a sharp mind. He's starting with less skill and practice than Dick or Jason, he is always going to be in Jason's shadow. He knows that. He can live with it. He just has to work harder to get to where they both were. His small size is an advantage, he can move quicker than larger enemies.

Balance. Leg up. Aim. Kick. Shift the hips. All in reverse to return to neutral. He looked up at Bruce, a proud smile on his face as he waited for the man's judgement.

[kettlefire]

The boy under the ice

He simply appear one winter day in Gotham. The water had already frozen over. Citizens alike surround the cold pond for a day of Winter festivities.

The Wayne family making a yearly appearance. Smiles and greets as hot cocoa and coffee was passed around to children and parents alike.

Some people skating across the frozen pond, while others enjoyed the snow. Building snowmen, and having intense rounds of snowball fighting.

Even in the darkness and dangerous that surrounded Gotham, everyone understood what today was. To put aside all problems and differences. To simply enjoy the seasonal change, spending time with your loved ones.

It was perfect. Until a piercing scream broke through the laughter and joy.

Cries of surprise and fear immediately followed. The people on the pond had quickly moved away in fear and disgust.

Bruce Wayne made no hesitation to move forward. Fear thrumming at the idea that someone had fallen through the ice. Maybe it hadn't been solid enough for skating and a poor soul got pulled in.

Except the ice was perfect. The only marks from the slight scratches of the blades against it. Not a single crack or hole could be seen.

It didn't take long before Dick was grabbing Bruce's attention. Waving the man over with a grim expression. The once joyous moment quickly turned dark and grim.

There was a boy, barely older than Damien trapped beneath the ice. Even with closed eyes, the kid looked like he could easily be mistaken as a Wayne. Any urgency to help was quickly faded by the sight.

The boy's skin held a blue tint, noticeable even through the thick layer of ice and the water below. His lips a sickly purple, and not a movement in his body.

It was clear the boy had been long since dead. Floating in the ice cold water beneath the ice. Having just floated up to the ice by pure accident.

With a sombre tone, Bruce ordered someone to call the police. They would need the fire department to even fathom pulling the poor boy out.

Bruce, along with Dick stayed kneeled on the cold ice. Eyes trained on the poor boy. Wondering if this was a blessing or a curse.

A poor family out there somewhere finally knowing what happened to their son this Christmas winter. Only for the horrible news of loss to hit them, even then the mystery was gone.

The sound of sirens broke through the thick tense silence. Help would be there soon, but the day had been tainted already.

It took everything in Bruce not to shout when eyelids sudden snapped open.

Fear and pain-filled bright blue eyes stared up at him through the ice. Pruned and blue hands suddenly pressed against the ice. Purple lips moving in frantic and panic words.

Words that couldn't penetrate the ice.

Bruce moved quickly, standing and yelling for help. Calling the civilians to bring anything they could. A blade from the snow cone cart was brought over.

The thick silence and stillness breaking instantly as everyone joined together in a rushed attempt to help.

Bubbles raised to the surface, popping against the ice as the boy beneath it continued to struggle. Words of comfort spilling from Bruce, even though he knew the boy likely couldn't hear him.

Many people were ushered off the ice, not wanting to risk a massive break from the weight. The ice frantically yet slowly breaking and giving under the attempts. Shavings and cracks signaling progress.

Bruce's eyes trailed away from the ice he had been trying to break for only a split second. He could hear the sounds of the fire department pulling into the area.

Bruce's eyes met the teen's terrified one. A chill ran down his spine as he saw the fight leave the boy, a feeling of despair and loss filling Bruce.

He couldn't let it end like this.

Yet, the choice was ripped from him. The water below the ice seemed to bubble for a split second before he was gone.

The boy under the ice was just gone.

He hadn't sunk down to the bottom of the pond. He hadn't floated to another section. One second he was there, and the next he was gone.

It didn't stop the fire department from breaking into the ice. Into pulling all efforts to try and find the boy. The boy that almost everyone in attendance had seen in clear detail.

There wasn't a body. No sign of the young teen's existence, save for the now shattered and broken ice. It seemed to be nothing, a strange blimp in a Gotham day.

Everyone was meant to move on without a second thought.

Except Bruce couldn't. He couldn't get the sight of terrified eyes meeting his. He knew there was too the story. That boy needed help.

He wasn't simply trapped under the ice. The boy wasn't simply dead. He was suffering. And Bruce would be damned if he just brushed it off like everyone else.

It's a good thing Bruce didn't. A late night in the cave, listening to the police scanners. Trying to push away the lingering sadness and pain he felt from the boy.

That's when he heard it. The call of a young boy being found trapped under the ice. In a different pond.

That was all the confirmation Bruce needed. He sent out an order to every vigilante apart of his family. To keep an eye out for the elusive boy.

Bruce was going to crack this mystery. He was going to help this kid, no matter what it took.

[escapismisaddicting]

“Hey! Yeah, Talia, It’s me Jay.”

“No, Bruce hasn’t been causing me any trouble, um- it’s actually the opposite problem. You… you know post-nut clarity? I think I’m getting post-lazarus clarity. You know?”

“Yeah… Talia, you kinda failed to mention all the shit that had changed in Gotham while I was gone. Like sure I have a replacement now whoop dee doo! But like- I also apparently have a charity named after me? All proceeds go to refurbishing crime alley- and apparently it’s been so successful that most kids I knew back then are now working in Wayne Industries. So- And you know that’s not the only thing? I have a park now. Like a genuine park named after me. With a statue of me in the center of a god damn water fountain. My favorite gargoyle was moved to the entrance of the park. Fucking hell Talia- I HAVE A MENU ITEM AT BATBURGER. NOT ROBIN. NOT RED HOOD. LIKE GENUINELY JASON PETER TODD HAS A FUCKING MENU ITEM THERE! IT WAS BASED ON HOW I WOULD EAT IT ON PATROL- I DON’T KNOW HOW TO COMPUTE THIS INFORMATION TALIA!”

[dramatisperscnae]

“Just hold onto me. There we go.” [ hal to ur boy of choice ]

[Gentle Care starters]

His pride wants to refuse, to insist he's fine and doesn't need the help.

His pride wants to snort and stride off, cape flowing behind him like a living shadow.

His pride isn't getting a vote.

One arm around Hal's neck is pretty much the only thing keeping him upright after that last mission, and even that is pushing it; if Hal wasn't actively supporting him, he knows even his stubbornness wouldn't be enough to keep him standing.

Plus whatever gas their enemy had used as a final attack managed to catch even the Bat offguard; he's feeling some of the effects already, and he hates it.

Leaning on the Lantern Bruce forces himself to focus through the growing haze, maintaining at least enough awareness to mutter two words he'll be denying as soon as he's in his right mind.

"…Thanks, Hal."

[ekat-fandom-blog]

Things We Ignore

Danny learned to ignore things quickly. From the migraines and muscle spasms he sometimes got after the portal to the icy discomfort during summer months. He ignored the ache in his arm from a poorly taken care of break. He ignored the jittery awfulness whenever he had to stay still.

Then he swapped bodies with Captain Marvel and found things he couldn't ignore.

Billy had a lot of things he ignored, too: The gods constantly yammering in his head, giving him unsolicited advice; The gnawing ache in his stomach; The sometimes numbness in his fingertips; The electric buzz under his skin; The constant loneliness that seeped coldness into his bones that had nothing to do with temperature.

[kizzer55555]

Core Gems

So when a ghost becomes injured, they have a last ditch defense where they retreat into their core. And I mean, injured badly where their body is rip apart to the point they can’t hold a solid form anymore. And they basically go into a hibernation state until they are strong enough to form again.

Ellie, Danny, and Dan are all injured in a final battle against the GIW. The organization was destroyed and the ghosts were safe but the halfas ended up being so injured that they reverted to core form and then went to sleep for a bit. When they woke up, they were still weak but at least recovered enough to gain consciousness. And realize…they are in some kind of auction…in the middle of a heist. It appeared that two furries (one in a bat costume and one in a cat costume) were ducking it out. And they…they were a necklace. All three of them had been turned into a necklace with their cores as gems accompanied by sapphires, pearls, and opals. And frankly gorgeous craftsmanship as the metal was crafted around their cores as if to cradle them and the other gems.

Unfortunately, they were too weak to take a form properly, they could still feel the strain on their bodies. But at least they could still communicate through their auras. Then the cat lady punched a hole in the glass container surrounding them and grabbed their necklace.

However, the bat grabbed the other end and it resulted in a sort of tug-a-war. Meanwhile, Danny, Ellie, and Dan were having a back and form commentary on the situation and what they should do. Completely unheard by the other party.

In the corner of their eye, the three halfas finally noticed a third contender. Some kind of clown who was…hold on…holding a gun?! And it was pointed straight at the two fighting furies who had yet to notice him. The ghosts’ protective instincts went into overdrive and they frantically tried to shout, yell, move. Just do something to warn the two but their cries fell on deaf ears. All they succeeded in doing was faintly glow which immediatly caught the attention of the fighting duo. The two turned to look at the strange necklace but right at that moment, the clown fired and a gunshot rang throughout the auction room. Having no other options, Danny and the others poured every ounce of ectoplasm they had to try and phaseshift, making the two furries intangible as the bullets passed right through them, but in their shock, the two jumped away in opposite directions and accidentally ripped the necklace apart. Gems and pearls went flying and the three cores bounced along the ground.

Luckily, the two finally noticed the clown and went to deal with him and his minions who had appeared. Seemingly putting their fight on hold and forming a temporary truce. The three halfas could only watch as the battle finally wound down, ending with the cops barging into the place and arresting the clown and his grunts, the cat managing to escape with half the scattered gems and pearls from the broken necklace along with a few other jewelry pieces (none of their cores though) and the bat leaving through a skylight.

The auction continued and in the end, despite being broken, their necklace seemed to have caught someone’s interest. A man named Bruce Wayne bought up every piece of the shattered jewelry wear. The auctioneers appeared relived that the item managed to sell in the end and gratefully gave it to him.

Bruce had no idea what happened at the auction, but he could have sworn that some of the gems faintly glowed right before he and Selina were shot. If the necklace was some sort of magical item, then he needed to understand exactly what has been brought to Gotham. It was unfortunate that Selena had taken some parts of the necklace but he utilized his vast wealth to make sure all the other parts ended in his possession. Now he would take them back to the mansion for examination.

[dramatisperscnae]

Jason's surprise pulls a small smile out of him. It's a natural reaction, he supposes, given Batman's reputation for instilling fear rather than experiencing it, but Bruce Wayne wasn't always Batman. And even the Bat has things he fears, though he'll never admit to them.

Even to himself, sometimes.

He gives Jason's shoulder a gentle squeeze before taking a chance and actually pulling the boy into a loose hug. Shows of affection aren't quite a regular thing between them yet, given Jason still tenses or pulls away if Bruce reaches out too quickly or without warning, but it should be okay right now, shouldn't it?

"There's nothing shameful about fear," he assures the boy, "no matter what causes it. Without fear you can't be brave." It sounds trite, not to mention absolutely ridiculous, to say it that way, but it's true. Looking down at Jason he offers another small smile, hand reaching up to ruffle the boy's hair. "And sometimes the bravest thing you can do is reach out for help." A pause. "…Do you want to talk about it? The dream you had?"

Bruce doesn’t kick him out. Not out of the room, not out of the manor. He doesn’t make fun of Jason, or call him names, or make him feel bad in any way. He doesn’t even agree with Jason that his being there, searching for comfort after a bad dream, is stupid.

Instead, he’s putting his hand on Jason’s shoulder and saying something the boy never ever expected to come out of Bruce’s mouth. Jason blinks in surprise, a bit more tension easing away.

“You do? But…but you’re Batman.” It doesn’t quite compute, Batman having bad dreams. Batman is the stuff of nightmares, he’s what bad guys see in theirs. And Bruce himself is just so big and strong and larger than life and not scared of anything. Jason really can’t picture it.

“I’m supposed to be Robin,” he argues weakly anyways. “I’m not supposed to get scared just ‘cause of a dumb dream.”

[bonefanatic]

in which, your son and boyfriend have already met.

(this has nothing to do with my batfam series)

Jason eyes narrow as he glares down at the smaller man. He grits his teeth, seething. He presses further against his Ma, subconsciously trying to hide them from the billionaire.

Bruce offers a small smile, though it's clearly strained and there's a weird look in his eyes.

"You two know each other....?" They're clearly uncomfortable. Their eyes dart between the two men.

"Sadly", Jason grumbles, immediately turn towards them. Bruce watches as the younger man tugs his mother's sleeve, coaxing them to stop.

"It's a long story...", Bruce speaks, his eyes now apologetic.

Jason glances back to his Ma, watching their eyes flick to his. The dots connect and he watches their eyes light up. They tense, looking back at Bruce.

"We have all night. Or is there somewhere else you need to be, Batman?"

[phoenixcatch7]

Lmao I'd love to see a fic where batman like. Doesn't talk at all. He just 'hn' and 'hrm's his way through the story like a Minecraft villager. All the bat kids understand him perfectly.

I actually know people irl who can do this, and I've done it myself during bad migraines, it's practically a second language, so I know it's totally possible to have full conversations between two speakers XD!

It'd be another degree of separation between Brucie Wayne, the ditzy, breathy playboy and batman, who used up all his vocal spoons for the day and now communicates solely through unintelligible grunts and sharp hand gestures when he doesn't need to talk to strangers.

Unfortunately, the best way to learn grunt speak is the same way most languages are learned, and there's no written word (outside of emoji, of course): immersion. And the justice league are no longer considered strangers.

This leads to:

Hal: which way do we go, spooky? Where's the tracker pointing?

B: *grunt*

Hal: what?

B: *insistent grunt*

Hal:..... Can we point?

B: *dour look* *slowly raises arm to point left down the street* *sharp, insistent grunt*

Hal, dryly: don't strain yourself.

-

Damian: greyson. I am calling because father has had an injury and is bed bound for tonight, however Alfred is downstairs and the rest are still on patrol. I am still in the early stages of learning father's intonations. Please translate.

Nightwing, eldest, regularly called for exactly this reason by just about everyone Bruce has ever spoken with since he was a kid, ranging from arkham guards to jl members: *heavy sigh* put him on.

Bruce: hrng...

Nightwing: He's telling you to close the curtains and keep the noise down, he's got a headache.

Damian, over the sound of footsteps and fabric rustling: it truly is just like another language.

N: nah, it's a lot of probability. I've known b for years, I can guess pretty well. There's a lot we can say. For example, that grunt actually carried a lot more meaning, I just trimmed it down.

Damian: truly?

N: yup! If I had to be pedantic, it actually meant 'I am in quite a lot of discomfort, the cause of which is my head, and I am struggling to manage it on my own. Please aid in my cause, my darling sons whom I love dearly -'

Damian: *muffled noise through the phone*

N: that'll be him telling us to shut up. But you can see why I asked you to close the curtains.

Damian: fascinating. I shall take this under advisement.

-

B, exhausted after a long day of board meetings as Brucie: *moody silence*

Gordon: Batman, how's it going?

B: *glower* *drawn out grunt*

Gordon: that bad, huh?

-

Supes, during a briefing: I believe it would be best if we attacked from the north, we've enough flying members to crest the mountains and ambush then that way - Batman?

B: *quiet grumble, with pointer fingers moving in semicircles*

Supes: ah, I see. You're right, we'd be too visible if the sun rose behind them*turns to see the other members standing behind him* what?

Flash, bowing at the waist, palms together over his head: teach me your ways, oh mighty bat-speaker.