#gotham monsters

[wordingg]

The Ghost of Wayne Manor

Summary: Even death can't stop Alfred from watching over Bruce Wayne.

Note: This fic was previously called 'Monsters Need Family Too'. I sort of abandoned this fic a while ago, but it's been stuck in my head. So, I reworked a bunch of stuff and have decided to post it as a series instead of a chaptered fic. So, this is now just the first chapter as a one shot. I've edited it a little, but if you've read it before, you don't need to reread it. I hope to do a whole series of oneshots exploring various Bat-people as cryptids and monsters for spooky season, so stay tuned if you're interested in seeing more!

Gotham is one of the worst cities in the world. Everyone in the city knows it. Everyone in the state knows it. Everyone in the country knows it. Even the low level consciousness that thrums beneath the city streets knows it. It basks in its well earned reputation and preens every time Gotham lands at the top of lists like "Worst Places In The World to Live".

Not only is Gotham one of the most violent and crime ridden cities in the world, it is also home to more strange and supernatural occurrences than anywhere on the globe. If people weren't so afraid of being shot or stabbed, it would probably be the paranormal capital of the world and a hub for paranormal investigators.

There are a lot of places in Gotham that purport to be haunted. Most of them are even legitimate. After all, murders and grisly deaths are common place, which makes the creation of ghosts pretty commonplace. But, nowhere in Gotham is more feared or haunted than Wayne Manor.

Wayne Manor sits in the middle of historic downtown Gotham. It's a huge gothic structure made out of sandstone bricks and arched stained glass windows and huge heavy wooden doors with slate roofs topped with parapets. It looks like someone dropped Dracula's castle smack into Philadelphia's oldest street. Despite being in the middle of downtown and surrounded by the ancient courthouse with huge columns and wide sweeping steps and a historic market building just down the street made of ancient red brick, Wayne Manor manages to have a small measure of green yard on all four sides. The small pop of green in the maze of concrete that is Gotham grows riotous with green vines and gnarled oak trees all fenced in with high rock walls topped with wickedly sharp black iron fencing to make climbing over them nearly impossible.

Officially, the extremely wealthy and extremely reclusive Bruce Wayne is the only person who lives inside. The only son of Thomas and Martha Wayne and their only surviving kin, Bruce is rumored to be strange, eccentric and terrified of the world outside his parent's mansion. He very rarely ventures outside and is treated like a ghost story already by the young people who live in the city.

He’s part of what makes Wayne Manor so terrifying. The other part is the rumors of the ghosts that can sometimes be seen from the windows that face the street.

People say they see an old man in old fashioned clothing in the yard or on the front porch or looking out the front facing windows. They say that he has a thin mustache and a fading hairline and that he is usually dressed in a bow tie and tailcoat. People only ever see him for a second before he disappears. But, it’s impossible for him to really be there. The only person who lives in the Manor is Bruce Wayne and he’s nowhere near that old.

The other bigger rumor is of a strange creature sometimes seen haunting the parapets and slanted roof of the Manor. Its huge hulking form merges well with the shadows, but sometimes photographs catch its supernaturally glowing red eyes or the hunch of huge wings extending from its back. They call it the Mothman of Gotham City and it's often seen gliding over the dark cloudy skies to and from the Manor. No one knows what it is or what it wants, but the rumor is that if it ever comes for you that death or madness are soon to follow it.

Nobody knows why it’s so often seen on or near Wayne Manor, but it’s more than enough to keep the natives of the city far away from the old crumbling building.

That’s what the people outside the Manor know of it. But, that’s not the whole story of Wayne Manor or its master, Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne was never a normal boy. There was no chance that he would ever be one even from the start.

After a wedding that was so huge and magnificent that people still talk about it to this day, Thomas and Martha Wayne left on a year long tour of the world. When they returned at the end of that year it was with a tiny squealing baby wrapped in their arms. Alfred had been surprised by the little addition, as neither of them had mentioned anything during their weekly phone calls. When Alfred had asked if the baby was hers, Martha had smiled and only said that he was now. Everyone in Gotham assumed that Martha must have gotten pregnant and gave birth while on their world tour and that Bruce was their child together. Neither Martha nor Thomas ever said anything to the contrary.

Alfred never asked either of the Wayne's where the baby had come from and they never volunteered any information. It wasn't his place to pry into his employers' private affairs. Alfred was always very aware of his place and how to mind it.

Bruce was a strange baby who only grew to be a stranger with each passing day. He barely ate and had little interest in any food that was placed before him. Sweets and chicken and crackers were barely picked at, dinners were often left largely untouched and yet the boy was always on track with his growth. Thomas especially fussed and worried over Bruce, but every time he was weighed and measured he was on track for his age.

He was a quiet baby that never cried and barely babbled and grew into a quiet boy who didn't run or play or get into trouble. He was always watching and listening, absorbing and remembering everything that anyone ever said in front of him. Alfred was shocked many times by the boy's sudden appearance in a dark corner or behind a cracked door. Alfred considered himself very aware of his surroundings, but little Bruce seemed to be able to appear anywhere that a shadow was cast. More than that, sometimes it seemed like the shadows enveloped the boy and blurred his edges in a way that Alfred could not always blame on his old and fading eyesight.

Despite how unnerving Bruce could be, it was hard for Alfred not to fall in love with him. Whenever his parents were away at a gala or dinner party, Bruce would trail after Alfred with big pale blue eyes and curious looks until Alfred explained to him what he was doing and why. Bruce would listen quietly and ask thoughtful questions and continue to trot along after him quietly, always watching, always listening.

School was a disaster. Bruce was incredibly intelligent and his parents were part of one of the founding families of Gotham, so getting Bruce registered with Gotham Academy was not a problem. But, as soon as he began attending, things went downhill quickly.

Both Bruce's classmates and teachers found him unnerving. It didn't matter how gentle or quiet he was, by the end of the month they were all terrified of him. The administration, frustrated with the teachers who couldn't explain exactly what it was about Bruce that was so upsetting, moved him to their only other kindergarten class. Before the next month was out, the new teachers and students were also terrified of Bruce.

Before Bruce could be expelled from the most prestigious school in Gotham, his parents took him out. Unfortunately, it was too late to contain the fallout.

The teachers might have signed contracts agreeing to never discuss their students with the press, but the students and their parents signed no such documents. They went to the local newspapers with their tales of how Bruce could sit completely still and not move and not speak for hours. The students talked about how they were hounded nightly by awful nightmares with little Bruce always haunting the edges of their dreams. The parents told of how their children would cry and beg not to go to school, how they stopped eating, stopped sleeping.

The press went wild with stories of the creepy child of Gotham's royal family. It was the beginning of Bruce Wayne’s urban legend, but it certainly wouldn't be the end. To protect Bruce, his parents squirreled him away in the manor, paying exorbitant prices for the best teachers from around the world to come to the Manor and teach him there.

And then, Thomas and Martha Wayne were gunned down after leaving a late night movie (a special treat for their reclusive child) just a few blocks away from their home. Bruce was eight years old.

They left the care of Bruce to Alfred in their will, likely because he was the only person other than themselves who obviously loved the boy. The other staff were all terrified of him. Thomas and Martha's family members had barely shown any interest in him at all. Though, they sure kicked up a fuss when they realized they weren't getting a dime from Thomas and Martha's estate. It was all Bruce's, or rather it belonged to Alfred until Bruce was old enough to take ownership of the home and the bank accounts. It was the social scandal of the year, all the Wayne wealth left in the hands of a butler of all things.

Alfred paid all the press and interviews with Bruce’s distant relatives with very little mind. He suspected they wouldn’t be kicking up such a fuss about being the boy’s real family if they saw how Bruce had been changed by his parents' death. He would have been no easy child to care for.

He was wild, broken in a way that Alfred didn't know how to deal with. He was still quiet and reclusive, but now that silence simmered with barely controlled anger. He stopped eating completely. Alfred even inventoried the pantry and refrigerator to see if Bruce was sneaking food when he wasn't looking, but if Bruce was eating he wasn't getting food from the Manor kitchen. Bruce should have starved many times over, but he seemed unaffected by his own self imposed fast.

He barely spoke and when he did it was by screaming and railing. Bruce could go days without moving or speaking, no matter how gently Alfred spoke to him or begged him to. Then, as suddenly as lightning striking, he would explode in a frenzy of screaming and destruction, ripping curtains off the walls, smashing tables to bits, shattering any glassware within reach. And then, like a storm passing, he would collapse back into passivity.

Alfred would patch up Bruce's little cut and bruised hands, splint his broken fingers, and carry him to bed. Then, he would clean up the mess and order replacements for the things that Bruce had destroyed.

And, he would worry. It seemed all he could do.

One night, almost a month after Thomas and Martha Wayne had died, Alfred caught Bruce sneaking out of an upstairs window. The fight they had when Alfred stopped him was one for the history books.

"You don't understand!" a tiny Bruce Wayne screamed at Alfred, his voice ringing through the dark wood paneled halls. "I have to do something!" he shouted before choking off a sob.

Alfred knelt down on his aching knees and pressed his hands to Bruce's little trembling shoulders. His bones were sharp and the pale skin around his eyes looked bruised and red. "I can't imagine what you're going through, dear boy," Alfred said as gently as he could.

"You don't understand!" Bruce wailed again, his pale eyes welling with big heavy tears that overflowed and ran down his sallow hollowed cheeks. "I could have done something. I should have done something!"

"Dear child, there was nothing you could have done," Alfred soothed, attempting to pull Bruce into an embrace that he rejected forcefully.

"I mean it!" he shouted. "I'm not normal! I could have stopped it! I could have saved them," Bruce said before collapsing into tears and Alfred's arms at the same time.

Alfred did his best to comfort Bruce as he screamed and cried and railed against the world. His small fists beat against his chest and his teeth dug into his coat. The tears ran and ran and Bruce gasped and cried and sobbed for almost an hour before finally going limp and drained in Alfred's arms.

It was the first time Bruce had cried since his parent's death. Alfred hoped it would be a breakthrough, that maybe Bruce would soon be able to get back to what passed for normal life for him.

He carried the boy as gently as he could back to bed and tucked him in. He always looked so small in the huge four poster bed.

"I could tell something was wrong," Bruce murmured as Alfred tucked the blankets against him tighter. "I could feel something coming for weeks. I tried to tell Mom, but I didn't know how to explain it. I've never felt something like that before."

Alfred stopped with a hand pressed over Bruce's chest and felt the steady rise and fall of his rib cage under his palm. Bruce’s eyelids were drooping and he looked like he would pass out any moment.

"I should have known it meant something bad would happen. I should have known to look harder and find the bad thing before it could happen. I'm a bad son," Bruce whispered with a wet wobble of his lower lip. But, there were no more tears to cry.

"Oh, Bruce," Alfred sighed. "Nothing could be further from the truth."

"You know I'm not a real boy, right, Alfred?" little Bruce turned big tortured eyes up at the old butler. "I'm strange. I’m not normal. Sometimes, I think I'm probably not human," he whispered.

Alfred pressed the hand not on Bruce's chest to his cheek. He stared into his charge's haunted eyes. Eyes so pale blue they were almost white, ringed in red skin and thick dark eyelashes.

"I know that you are a kind and gentle boy. I know that you loved your parents and were loved by them in turn. I know that I loved you hardly before I even knew it. You are smart and strong and even if you could have prevented the death of your parents, that was not your responsibility. It is the responsibility of parents to protect their children, not the other way around, certainly not while those children are still young," Alfred said all this very sternly. "Whatever you are or are not, these things will always be true."

Despite what must be a good bit of dehydration, a final silent tear slipped from Bruce's eye to land in the crevice between Alfred's wrinkled hand and Bruce's soft cheek.

"I love you too Alfred," Bruce choked out, lunging up to throw his arms around Alfred's neck in a brutal hug.

Alfred was startled for a moment before warming and wrapping his arms around the small precious boy in his arms. They embraced for a long time and when they finally disentangled Bruce dropped off to sleep within seconds.

Alfred stayed for a long time, long after Bruce finally fell asleep.

Alfred felt very old just then.

He was perfectly aware that he was old, of course. He had served the Wayne family for years, ever since he was a young man just out of MI5. When he first started working for the Wayne's, he had worked for Thomas' father and Thomas was just a boy himself still in short pants. Now Thomas was dead, a fact that still felt untrue while everything else about the Manor felt normal and familiar. Now, Alfred was in control of a huge manor and held a controlling stake in an even bigger company as well as being the only family and guardian of a strange heartbroken little boy.

At that moment, Alfred felt the weight of the world on his shoulders and sagged beneath it.

But, he only let his grief overwhelm him for a short while. There was nothing for it, really. Things needed to be done and Alfred had to be the one to do it. That was all there was to it.

So, after allowing himself a quiet little crisis in Bruce's dark silent bedroom, Alfred struggled to his feet and made his slow ponderous way out into the hall. The bedroom door clicked shut quietly behind him.

Though his worn body called for bed, Alfred didn't think his mind would be able to rest just yet. Not after all of little Bruce's talk of his own inhumanity. No, maybe a cup of tea would calm him down enough to finally rest.

Bruce's room was on the third floor, two sets of curving staircases led down to the open atrium at the bottom floor. There was also a narrow hidden staircase at the opposite end of the hall that led up into the small claustrophobic rooms of the servant quarters located in the attic and also down into the kitchen. When he was a younger man, Alfred had used the servant stairs in the back of the house most of the time. Though narrow, the steps were worn and uneven and unusually high. They were more direct than the the beautifully curving staircases in the front of the house, but in his old age the servant steps were too treacherous and Alfred rarely used them.

Alfred made his cautious way toward the tall carpeted steps which would lead down to the bottom floor. He was only a few steps down toward the first staircase when his knee gave out. It was an old war injury, one that usually only bothered him when he had been on his feet too long. But, it had never chosen such an inopportune time to make itself known.

Tumbling down the steps, Alfred did his best to tuck himself into a ball. Unfortunately, that meant that when he hit the first landing where the steps turned, he kept rolling into the banister which cracked and gave way under the force of the hit.

And then Alfred was falling.

And then, he was standing looking down at his own broken body crumpled in the middle of the atrium.

He looked incredibly frail, limbs tossed all akimbo on the polished parquet floors. A tiny trickle of blood made its way between his pale lips, probably from biting his tongue or maybe from a few loose teeth. His head was bent the wrong way, a snapped neck that would have been quick and painless.

Remembering his young charge slumbering above, Alfred quickly looked up but there was no movement from the floors above. It was only he and Bruce in the manor at night, the other servants much too terrified of the boy to sleep in the attic right above him. Alfred knew his tumble must have been very loud indeed, but Bruce was likely also very tired from his breakdown. He must have slept through it all.

Alfred thought of how devastated Bruce still was from the death of his parents. He thought of how he was the only person who knew and loved the strange boy sleeping one floor above him. He thought of how much it would destroy him to wake on his own and come downstairs to find Alfred's crumpled corpse. He wished that there was something he could do.

Well, maybe there was something he could do? There certainly was no harm in trying.

So, Alfred reached down and tried to pick up his body. He found that he could. Easily, in fact. He felt strong and young and the weight of his own corpse felt like hardly more than an unwieldy rug. He gathered the body up and carried it down into the basement and dropped it on the cracked cement in front of the furnace. Something to deal with later.

He returned to the atrium with a mop and bucket, though there was really very little to clean. Still it felt better to be sure there was no evidence on the floor for the observant little boy to find in the morning.

After the floor was clean, he briefly washed out the mop and bucket and stored them in their appropriate cleaning closet. He gathered up the bits of broken railing and frowned when he had them gathered in a heap. He was no carpenter and wouldn't be able to fix the banister himself. Shrugging, he gathered up the splintered bits of polished wood and tossed them into the small garden by the kitchen door. Something else to deal with later.

He made himself a cup of tea and drank it. No adverse effects there either.

Then, he went upstairs and got changed for bed. He laid in his bed and stared at the ceiling of his small room and wondered what was happening to him. It didn't seem possible that he could die and then clean up his own death as easily as he might chuck a German soldier into a hotel basement incinerator. If his body was in the basement, then how was he upstairs lying in bed? Or was the whole thing some kind of traumatic episode? It really just defied explanation from every angle.

The next morning, Alfred woke to his alarm going off. He couldn't say he really slept, per se. More like he blinked and it was morning.

He went through his normal routine of preparing breakfast and greeting the staff as they came in and making sure they had what they needed. He took a small detour to check the basement and yes there was his body just where he left it propped up against the old furnace. No time to panic, though, it was nearly breakfast. He roused Bruce at his normal time and tried to prepare himself for the real test.

Alfred wanted to say he believed with 100% certainty that Bruce was a normal human boy. But, there were just too many strange things to account for. The way he survived without eating or drinking, the way he seemed to appear suddenly in rooms that he couldn't possibly have snuck into, the strange wavering of his image when he was cast in shadow. It was too much to dismiss as mere eccentricity.

If Bruce really was something more than human, then there was a chance that he would take one look at Alfred and know what happened. If anything had happened. Alfred still wasn't sure if it wasn't just a strange hallucination.

But, Bruce was just quiet and exhausted the next day. If something was different about Alfred, Bruce didn't seem to notice.

Death was certainly a bit over exaggerated in the old butler’s estimation. If Bruce was fine with him the way he was and he could do his job just as easily as before, he saw no reason not to just continue with things as they were. After all, Bruce needed him. And, so long as he did, Alfred would endeavor to be of service.

[fanaticalthings]

Jason Todd with his goons:

[bbbbbbbbatman]

Gotham has so many rogues and most of them don’t actually cause that much trouble in the grand scheme of things, so other than the really big ones, like joker, news about Gotham rogues can get pretty muddled outside the city which leads the JL to believing that Batman and Manbat are the same person and that their colleague sometimes turns into a giant bat monster but they don’t bring it up bc they think it’s a sensitive topic

Which eventually leads to a scenario like this mid combat when they’re getting pretty desperate:

Green Lantern: I know we’re not supposed to talk about it or whatever, but it would be really helpful if you could turn into a giant bat right now, spooky

Batman, having zero context for this comment, pausing mid fight to look at Hal like he just grew a second head: What the fuck are you talking about, Jordan?

Green Lantern, suddenly much less confident: Um…you know how you…turn into a giant bat?

Batman, utterly bewildered, turning to the other members but finding that he is clearly the only one out of the loop: what is happening right now

[stars-obsession-pit]

Following an accident, Danny wakes up in Gotham City in a DC universe. Lacking any forms of ID or possessions beyond the clothes on his back, he’s forced to commit some crimes to survive. Minor crimes, but still.

And then he gets caught.

During the court proceedings, they come to the mistaken conclusion that he’s a Meta suffering from some psychiatric issues such as Cotard’s Syndrome (a real rare condition where a person holds the delusional belief that they’re dead/don’t exist/etc).

Thus, between his “need for mental treatment” and the concerns about housing someone with his unique physical traits, he is sentenced to spend time in Arkham Asylum. He’s under pretty low security aside from the anti-Meta stuff and has more freedoms than some other inmates, but it’s still not a great experience. Even at the best of times, Arkham is hardly a nice place.

Some of his fellow residents are decently chill all things considered, but lots very much aren’t.

[basalting]

after jasons death bruce "accidentally" slips harvey a crowbar while hes in arkham and kisses his cheek and says, voice soft and colder than ice, "make him hurt for me honey"

it takes 6 guards to sedate and drag two face off the joker the next time two face sees him and for the rest of their lives as soon as harvey sees the joker he goes after him like a rabid dog.

[thebibliosphere]

I feel like I've complained about Tim's email situation in Gotham Knights before (edit: I have), but the truth of it is just so funny.

He's signed up for so many podcasts, video game streamers, and random news alerts; it's just a constant barrage of data going straight into his constantly whirring brain. Hell, he even floats the idea of the Batfamily having their own podcast as a way to correct misinformation about them (which Jason shoots down instantly), and it's made me realize something.

Timothy Drake would be a YouTuber.

In this universe specifically, Timothy Jackson Drake, the heir to Drake Industries and the foster son of the late Bruce Wayne would be a YouTuber.

Think about it. It'd be the perfect cover. Who would ever suspect that some 16-year-old nepo baby with a YouTube channel could ever be Red Robin? You'd have to be mad. I mean, look at him.

Red Robin just dropped out of literal thin air and garotted someone four times his size, and you expect anyone to believe that's the same kid who does 24-hour Minecraft charity streams and occasionally drops 6-hour video essays (his last one was on Lex Luthor's illegal bit mining operation on the moon)?

That kid?

You think that kid is Red Robin?

Ch'yah, okay, sure. And the Joker is funny 🤡.

[puppetmaster13u]

Hear me out: Demon Batfam but Bruce gets them as babies because people won't stop trying to sacrifice their children and he is So Tired

And it is semi-early Batman Bruce too.

[cliobii]

happy halloween. I am cringe but I am free. 🦇🦇🦇

ig a continuation of my vampire Ed drawings lol. I wanted to make Oswald a wolf but I chickened out and made him more vampiric for this drawing lol, oh well.

[olspirt]

batman rogues but in monster high

[glocheed]

Just some weird married monster dudes

[littlefankingdom]

No, they do not. It would destroy them to do so. Dick got really depressed after killing the Joker, he hated himself. Tim worked to save the lives of assassins from the League of Assassins. Yes, they value life. Stop insulting their characters.

[little-pondhead]

Danny moved to Gotham.

Freakshow is touring in Gotham.

Freakshow knows Danny is in Gotham.

Danny knows Freakshow is still after him.

Danny's faith in heroes has been shattered.

Danny turns to the only person powerful enough to run Freakshow out of town, hopefully for good.

Danny turns to the Joker for help.

The Joker is looking for a new punching bag sidekick after Harley Quinn left him.

Danny is just the perfect person to be shaped by the Joker's hands.

Danny becomes the new Joker Junior.

[jesncin]

Scarecrow x Killer Moth, otherwise known as Crowmoth, romance piece for @hibiscera ! Thank you for donating to DC Gotcha for Gaza! I really like your design for Drury's moth form, so I had to draw it too hehe.

[knoepfl]

~~~ Masterlist ~~~

Hey there! I decided I want to do a Masterlist since I have quite a lot of work already published and wanted a place where it's organised and everyone can see clearly if there is something they'd like to read^^ I'll try to keep it updated as much as possible but I'm sure I'll fall behind at some point. Anyways. At the beginning you can see a alphabetical order of the characters I already wrote. So if you look for a specific character be sure to look into it to see if it's there. If you notice there isn't one you like you can always sent a request or ask a question^^ I'd be happy to fulfil and answer all of them if I can. Anyways I hope you like my work!

Last Updated: 09.01 25

Requests

Character List (Alphabetical)

✧ Arthur Fleck (Joker)

✧ Astarion (Baldur's Gate 3)

✧ Benedict Bridgerton (Bridgerton)

✧ Bobble (Tinkerbell)

✧ Bruno Madrigal (Encanto)

✧ Cedric the Sorcerer (Sofia the First)

✧ Chop Top Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Clawd Wolf (Monster High)

✧ Clawdeen Wolf (Monster High)

✧ Clopin Trouillefou (The Hunchback of Notre Dame)

✧ Cole Mikaelson (Vampire Diaries)

✧ Drayton Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Dottore (Genshin Impact)

✧ Edward Nygma (Arkham Games/Gotham Series)

✧ Enjiro Kirishima (My Hero Academia)

✧ Felix Fickelgruber (Wonka)

✧ Fred Weasley (Harry Potter)

✧ Gaston (Beauty and the Beast)

✧ Heath Ledger's Joker (Batman: The Dark Knight)

✧ Homelander (The Boys)

✧ James Hook (Peter Pan)

✧ Jerome Valeska (Gotham Series)

✧ Jeremiah Valeska (Gotham Series)

✧ Jervis Tetch (Batman: The Animated Series, Gotham Series, Arkham Games)

✧ Jinx (Arcane)

✧ Jonathan Crane (Batman: The Animated Series)

✧ Klaus Hargreeves (The Umbrella Academy)

✧ L Lawliet (Death Note)

✧ Legoshi (Beastars)

✧ Ling (Mulan)

✧ Luigi (The Mario Movie)

✧ Magnus von Hagen (Haus Anubis)

✧ Mahito (Jujutsu Kaisen)

✧ Melon (Beastars)

✧ Michael Groff (Sex Education)

✧ Michael Myers (Halloween)

✧ Monoma Neito (My Hero Academia)

✧ Mylo (Arcane)

✧ Nubbins Sawyer (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre)

✧ Nuca (The Lion King 2)

✧ Palladium (Winx)

✧ Pennywise (IT)

✧ Rick (Rick and Morty)

✧ Salo (Arcane)

✧ Shaggy (Scooby-Doo)

✧ Silco (Arcane)

✧ Stu Macher (Scream)

✧ Syndrome (The Incredibles)

✧ Tim LaFlour (Senseless)

✧ Tomura Shigaraki (My Hero Academia)

✧ Trueman (The Trueman Show)

✧ Tsuchigomori (Toilet Bound Hanako kun)

✧ Viktor (Arcane)

✧ Wiggins (Pocahontas)

✧ Zac Varmitech (Go Wild Mission Wildnis)

-------------------------------------------------------

Anime Masterlist

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DC Masterlist

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Horror Movie Masterlist

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Movie Masterlist

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Disney Masterlist

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Arcane Masterlist

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Series Masterlist

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Games Masterlist

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Instead of being sent to end the Washington bloodline, Calvin is sent to clean the Gotham streets of “vermin”.

He gets a name, a location, and a general description. A weapon pointed at a target.

And he’s eager to prove himself. Eager to have years of grueling training pay off. Eager to prove that he didn’t kill the previous Talon for nothing.

But when Calvin perches on top of a fire escape, watching a small, malnourished child with gaunt cheeks and a too large red hoodie steal the tires off the Batmobile with nervous glances left and right but never up—

Calvin wants to throw up.

They can’t- they’re expecting him to kill a little kid. A tiny, defenseless human just trying to survive— deemed obsolete due to circumstances the boy had no control over.

No. No way. No fucking way.

When Batman returns to the Batmobile it’s to his tires gone and the tail end of watching a monster straight out a nursery rhyme knocking a screaming child unconscious and vanishing into the night.

[nelkcats]

Darling Boy

"The monster's gone, he is on the run and your Daddy is here" Croc sing to the boy in his arms "Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful boy"

"You are not a monster, Dad" Danny said sadly "I know all of the people here told you so, but it is not true"

"Close your eyes, have no fear" Killer Croc continued singing

"That's not how the letter goes" Danny frown, only days ago he discovered he was "rescued" by the Fentons, who called Waylon (His Dad, he was his Dad) a monster (They called him a Monster too, why why why); Many years ago they were in a convention on Gotham and after seeing him and his dad walking on the streets they considered his biological father a monster, they stole him because they saw his "humanity" and wanted to "save him" (They stole that humanity too, THEY KILLED HIM, WHY)

"Before you cross the street, take my hand" Waylon couldn't stop singing, if he stopped he would realize this was all a dream, his boy would be out of his hands again (Like those scientists who keep screaming and pointing him with guns, stealing his kid, calling him uncapable of taking care of a human baby, screaming about him being a monster trying to kill his baby, but the cops arrested him and not them WHY WHY WHY)

"Dad please, look at me" Danny was going to cry (This was his father, his real father who just discovered cause his "adoptive" parents didn't have his papers) "please look at me, I am here"

"I can hardly wait" Waylon feeled the tears leaving his eyes, he hugged the kid closer, waiting for him to disappear "to see you come of age" he lost so many years (They stole his baby, They stole his baby, THEY STOLE HIS BABY, WHY IS NOBODY STOPPING THEM, PLEASE HELP)

"Papa, please" the halfa started crying, this was a mess, even if he didn't inherited the meta gen from Waylon ¿how could he tell his father he was half dead? That people see him like a monster? The only thing his Papa didn't want for him? (They stole him, they killed him, they called his Papa a monster, they called HIM a monster and now, ¿will he be able to broke his Papa heart again? ¿To tell him the truth?) "Please, I am here"

"Beautiful, Beautiful, Beautiful boy" Waylon whispered the last part "See you in the morning" he opened his eyes but his kid was still there (His baby was back, his baby was back, justice didn't work BUT HIS BABY WAS BACK)

"I'm here Papa, and I will not leave this time" the halfa snuggled into his father's arms, finally feeling safe, protected (Finally at home)

On the other side of the street, the bats looked at "Killer Croc" (That was not his name, Waylon Jones was good before justice failed him, was it their fault?) crying and hugging a child tightly, but without hurting him, it seemed that he was hiding him from the world (Could anyone blame him?) and they could not bring themselves to interfere