#talk to me about civilian Bruce I guess

[plaid-maniac]

There is a boy at the clinic.

It is late at night and you at volunteering at a clinic for a family friend. It’s one of the only times you really feel like you are helping people.

You have treated wounds from all sources of violence that surround the clinic. Stab wounds, drug misuse, burn treatments, you have seen it all.

The boy’s wound, for all intents and purposes, is simple. Wipe away the blood, disinfect the area, wrap the wound in a bandage. You have done this a million times.

It is not even a particularly shocking story he tells you. A graze from a gunshot he was too slow to avoid. You have heard the story plenty of times, and have seen far worse outcomes than this. This kid would be a completely normal patient.

He is wearing a mask.

A simple thing, really, enough to hide his face. Not enough to hide his smile.

Not enough to hide the way he stutters around his name. Or hide how he stutters around yours. Only enough to hide himself in the dark.

He isn’t in the dark.

He’s sitting on the patient’s bed, underneath the bright examination light, swinging his legs cause they can’t touch the ground and he has nothing better to do, and chatting away like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

His outfit is bright colors. Reds and greens and yellows dancing throughout what can only be described as a circus outfit. All completed with a cape to hide himself with.

Even with all that said, the outfit is dirty. Wet from the rain or maybe the ocean nearby allowing for the sawdust and dirt to stick to it. The shoes that almost certainly were not built to be run around in are caked in gunk and residue from running around filthy streets, nearly hiding the bright green it’s supposed to be.

It looks like months of built-up dirt, only barely kept at bay by the inexperienced scrubbing of a nine-year old. But you know deep down that it is only worn at night. Only at night when the city really wakes up.

You know because you see him in the light.

At breakfast tomorrow morning the boy will come sliding down the railing, preforming a maneuver professionals struggle with at the end, and walk to the table wondering about the plans for the day.

You’ll tell him about your meeting at 11, how it’ll be with businessmen you hardly know the names of trying to sell you something you don’t want or need just to grab a quick buck and their names in the headlines alongside yours.

You’ll remind him his tutor will be there at 1 to help him get caught up with the curriculum at nearby schools. You’ll also remind him to come to you if he needs anything.

He’ll look up at you with a calculating look, the same look he gives all the new gymnastic equipment every time he’s about to start practicing. He will smile. A little too mischievous. Like you just told a funny joke, or he knows something he shouldn’t. He will say of course I will. But I really should go get practicing.

You want to wonder what he is practicing for as he makes his way up the stairs. You’re afraid you already know.

Your routine is muted with images from last night. Of the bird-like acrobat who had to come to a clinic at 1 in the morning. You think about your own bird-like acrobat, who wore long sleeves to breakfast this morning.

You do not want to connect the dots.

You do not like the picture it paints.

But the dots practically overlap each other. They sit, snug up to one another like peas in a pod. And they only get closer when you read the morning newspaper as you get settled in your office.

Late last night, at about 12:45, the police apprehended a small gang down at the Gotham harbor. Another instance where the police respond to a call only to have every crook tied up in complex knots and covered in bruises in strange spots.

The only ones conscious enough to explain what happened all mumble of a haunting laugh echoing around them, and a swirl of colors before they are taken down.

One of the swore up and down he managed to shoot down the thing that attacked them, only to end up hanging upside down from the rafters.

The picture is glaringly bright to you. As bright as the family you once saw performing at the circus. As bright as a spotlight reflecting off blood.

You send a single prayer to Lady Gotham, perhaps the only god who you know listens, and beg

“Please, please protect my boy. And if the time comes, please don’t let him make the wrong choice.”

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Tim Encounters a Fae at a Gala

Which may be a problem, yes, but the much more alarming part? The Fae looks like Damian.

"This is pretty boring, don't you think?"

The voice comes from behind, and Tim recognizes it instantly, but at the same time, he doesn't. He's never heard Damian talk like this, easy and a little amused, with no usual stiffness to his speech. Yet this couldn't be anyone else - being a vigilante means you can never drop your guard even in your civilian identity, and who other than Damian could have sneaked up on him?

He turns around.

It is Damian, and at the same time, it's not. The boy looks just like the demon child, the same face, same height and skin tone, the same way he puts his hair. But something is wrong. The way he holds himself, his relaxed and almost lazy posture, the absence of a usual scowl on his face, the way he feels comfortable here, in a crowd of people.

And his eyes, when he looks at Tim. Icy blue, almost translucent, like the color of icebergs and glaciers.

The not-Damian tilts his head a little and smiles just slightly. Tim blinks, realizing that there was a question, and he just stares at the boy instead of answering.

"Yeah, sure," he clears his throat and breaks the eye contact, looking away from not-Damian's eyes, his thoughts a frantic mess. Is this another clone? Or some kind of a shapeshifter? In any case, they approached Tim first, he can't lose his chance at gaining some information. So Tim smiles back, "Is it your first time? At the gala, I mean."

Now, when he looks at the boy again, the stricking resemblance doesn't hit him so hard. Instead, Tim notices something else - the boy is... eerily beautiful. He's never noticed Damian looking this nice - because that would be kind of creepy if he did, - but this not-Damian is... He can't really put it into words.

He's just beautiful.

Almost unnaturally so.

"You could say that," not-Damian answers, looking over the crowd around them, "I'm not used to so many people around, but I've seen my fair share of social gatherings."

Tim blinks. That statement compiled with his absolute lack of any kind of nervousness makes little sense.

Alright, he needs to get at least some information from the mystery twin. He is a detective, for god's sake.

"Are you here with someone?" That can be a useful question. Tim sure as hell knows that Bruce could not invite some Damian lookalike without prior warning, which means the boy had to come as someone's plus one. Or he sneaked in with no invitation, that's also a possibility.

"My godfather should be here somewhere," not-Damian nods, scanning the crowd before nodding his chin in the direction of a small cluster of people. Tim follows his gaze and finds a white-haired man in a matching white and silver suit in the middle of telling some kind of story.

"Vladimir Masters?" He questions with a noticeable amount of disbelief. The man never said a word about having a godson. Ever. And Tim did a thorough background check on the owner of DalvCo.

"Got it in one," not-Damian grins. Is it just Tim, or do his teeth really look sharper than they are supposed to?

Come to think of it, his ears are also not as round as they should be.

Unnatural beauty, sharp teeth and pointy ears, questions answered in a vague and unclear way. And Tim hadn't noticed him blink even once.

He has a guess. He doesn't like it, it's a very, very bad guess, but Tim is a Bat, a Robin, and a Detective. He knows when he needs to trust his gut even if his gut is telling him absolute nonsense.

He just needs to make sure.

Tim swallows the anxious feeling in the back of his throat and turns back to not-Damian, smiling:

"I think I didn't catch your name?" He does his best at sounding confused and not alarmed. The boy's grin widens just a bit, but Tim feels a cold shiver run down his back, and his mind is all but screaming for him to run away for this is not human, and whatever it is, it is dangerous.

"Would you give me yours in exchange?" The boy's voice is soft and easy, not a hint of mischief. Just a casual question. Maybe a little teasing.

Tim's blood runs cold as he tries to remember everything he has ever read and heard about the fair folk. Never give them your name, but there has to be a way to answer this question, right?

"You may call me Damian," he finally answers. Maybe this is a risk, calling himself his brother's name, but Tim feels like this is somehow a right thing to do since the boy - the creature - looks like him.

Not-Damian's eyebrows shoot up, and there's a hint of surprise in his eyes when he starts quietly laughing. The heavy pressure of the air around him disappears at the sound of the crystalline laughter, like it was never there. Tim feels like he had just disarmed a bomb or passed a test with his own life at stake. Maybe he actually did.

"Clever," the boy grins again and nods politely, bowing his head down like they are at a medieval ball and not a gala, "My name is Danny. It is nice to meet my brother's brother."

| <-prev | next-> |

[help-itrappedmyself]

Danny Punches a Clown part 2 I guess

shoutout to @that-random-fangirl

Masterpost

The batmobile pulls into the batcave as usual once they’re done dealing with the Joker’s hostage situation, but no one is celebrating at a job well done tonight. Because while the Joker is back in Arkham, for now, it wasn’t one of them that stopped him. While the rest of them dealt with the goons downstairs, Batman went up to where the Joker was supposed to be hiding out with the kids, only to find him on the floor with a growing bruise on his face. The kids were nowhere to be seen. 

So, Batman sweeped the room, making note of a video that was still recording on the computer. Probably a taunt for him that the Joker never got to release. He pulled all the files from the computer and brought them with him when he left. 

The police arrived, the civilians were taken care of, but none of them had any idea what happened in the room the Joker was in. Apparently none of them heard anything, despite the fact the Joker had a gun with him no shots were fired. And none of them knew what happened to the kids. 

So the family gathered around the batcomputer to try and find out what had happened. They rewound the video back to the beginning, hoping to at least find out if the kids were okay.

The video opened to the Joker being his usual self, holding his gun, looking like he hadn’t yet gotten punched in the face.

“ Bats! Wonderful to see me isn’t it? I know it's been too long, and I’ve got some presents for you!” Joker turns the camera to show three kids, two no older than six, both blonde and terrified, and one that could be a teenager, probably around twelve to thirteen with black hair and looking bored. The camera swings back to the Joker after a moment. “ Of course, I have a bunch of adults too, but these little kiddos are just for you! I have such plans for them bats!” 

“Hey, crazy clown?” They hear, coming from one of the children. Joker stops ranting to look past the computer, probably at the kid who’s speaking and the bats all look at each other in disbelief.“ Look, I’m sure you have some sort of reason for all this hostage-taking and gun-waving, probably even for dressing like that.” 

“ Oh, this kid is insane.” Tim mutters.

“ However, I already have one fruitloop in my life and that is more than enough for me, so I’m going to have to leave now.”

The Joker starts laughing, he bends over and wraps his arms around his stomach laughing his normal cackle that has most of the room cringing. They watch as the child, the older one, walks right up to the Joker, who is still laughing, and punches him in the face.

They watch in silence as the Joker falls limp to the floor. Jason whistles. Then the boy turns more toward the camera, but really towards the children as he starts talking to them and they see him fully for the first time. Black hair, blue eyes, looks exhausted and he just punched the Joker in the face. The kids look amongst each other for a moment, all thinking the same thing, before turning back to the screen to see the boy, this tiny boy who called the Joker ‘crazy clown’ and punched him in the face helping the other kids escape out the window. 

“ Bruce, no.” Dick mutters. “ We don’t even know who this kid is.”

��� This kid just knocked out the Joker in one punch, if Bruce doesn’t nab him, I will.” Jason states.

Everything devolves into arguing from there, all the kids shouting amongst themselves arguing either for or against the adoption of the kid. It goes on for a while before Bruce speaks up.

“ Let’s just find the kid first.” Bruce says, He’s already pulled up facial recognition and is chatting with Oracle about the CCTV footage by the warehouse. “ All of you go get some rest, I’m going to go see if I can track him.”

“ Hey! If you’re going back out, we’re going back out!” Dick complains. “ We’re concerned about the kid too.” 

Bruce starts to argue with him, but is cut off by the sound of motorcycles as Jason and Tim start to head back out, already talking to Oracle about where to start. Dick heads out after them and Damian goes to sit in the batmobile, waiting. Bruce heaves a sigh before climbing in after him.

“ Okay, Oracle what do we have?” Batman asks.

“ I was able to track him into an alley, but nothing after that.”

Now with part 3!

[wonderjanga]

Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

[ew-selfish-art]

Demon Twin AU 

Tim Drake comes across a LOA manuscript detailing the sacrifice of a Demon Heir that’s dated around the time Damian is born and brings it to the cave. There’s no other mention of what went down, but it looks like Damian was a twin and the twin was thrown into the Lazaras Pits- Tim kind of forgets about it but shows it to Damian cause he figures that the guy deserves to know, and leaves it out for Bruce to see (basically the same thing as telling him). It doesn’t really change much but there is an obscured name in the corner so they can presume that the kid’s name would have been something starting with D A N. 

Well here’s the thing: Names carry power. Damian reaches out to John Constantine to ensure that the child is actually dead, because presumably John can do that. John wants to give the kid some closure, so he does what is supposed to be a super chill seance to an infant. He pricks Robin’s finger, chants a little and the air... turns violent.

Uh oh. Dan appears, unshackled from his prison in the Infinite Realms now that John has called upon them by someone with Familial blood. He cackles madly about the fact that it’ll be a good time to bring about the apocalypse again, promising to spare the bird for now, since he would have to get answers later. 

The alarms are blaring, the whole JL is hands on deck to try and stop Dan as he attacks across the globe. They’re saving as many civilian lives as possible but its getting very HAIRY in less than 2 hrs. Robin is out in the chaos, trying to track him down with John and Zatanna trying to recapture him and banish him back to the realms. 

Phantom touches down just as the three of them reach Dan- Danny has some choice words for his older alternate timeline self, including “This is why you have no friends.” and “Seriously, you didn’t even stop to say hi to my timeline’s Jazz this time.” and “Soup time for 1,000 years and then we can talk remediation.” 

After a short but brutal fight, Danny floats over to Damian, John and Z. After making sure they’re all right he’s like “Maybe you can never do that again? Also tell me how and why you did that so I can banish that spell?” And Damian explains that it was meant to ensure that the infant twin he never knew had passed peacefully and clearly that was not the case. Danny blinks a few times, uh, a twin?

Damian goes through the shit, John explains that it was a familial summoning meant to be an advanced seance (hence the lack of safe guards to keep the entity in) and Z confirms that there was nothing special to it beyond that. 

Danny then explains, that uh, “I guess my parents weren’t kidding when they told me I was adopted. Hi? I’m your brother. Uh, I go by Danny though. Dan was me in a different timeline and he’s normally under super strict lockdown.” 

[clearnachopirate]

Terry and the batfam. Terry and the batfam. their dynamics have so much potential and i would LOVE to see it explored in any way at all

Terry and Dick: older brothers, trade stories of how they embarrass and get back at their younger brother(s), anger issue twins, "oh you were batman too??" "yeah, but its only bc one of my parents was murdered" "omg thats how i became robin no way"

Terry and Jason: the second most destructive duo, second only to terry and steph. not bc they fight or blow things up on patrol (thats tim and jasons thing) but bc anytime there a new gadget to try, terry will volunteer to use it, and jason will volunteer to 'spar' with terry to test it out. okay, maybe its bc they fight and blow stuff up, but its only ever in the batcave under supervision! "the tim from my dimension actually killed the joker" "no shit? did bruce stop me over there too?" "... about that--" sometimes they grab the others leather jacket by accident and both have given up on caring

Terry and Tim: terry "from the technological future" mcginnis and tim "designs loads of bat tech" drake talk shop, "my younger brother was made robin without my consent" club. tim listens to the works elcectro pop music ever and it just so happens to sound exactly like what they play at terrys favorite club. tim introduces him to (kon or bernard, take your pick) and they hit it off so well that they hang out without tim

Terry and Damian: ace the dog. terry invited damian to his AC island. both are bruce's bio kids and mamas boys. damian calling him "Terrance" and terry never recovering from it. terry knows damian from the future, kind of, and uses that knowledge to his advantage EVERY DAY

Terry and Duke: team "everyone thinks we're the normal one, they are wrong" they totally do movie marathons you cant tell me otherwise, their favorite thing to do is make bets abt the rest of the fam w cass. they never win against her. on any given day you can find them whispering about everyone else "duke, why the fuck were damian and tim staring each other down over breakfast" "hes mad dick said he can't poison him again" "what" "i know i thought they were over it by now"

Terry and Cass: cass sees him for the first time and sees that he rivals tim and dick in terms of being a mess and is determined to bond. terry hears about what she was trained for as a child and shrugs bc "i was supposed to be a second bruce, things change" cass will make him give her piggybacks when shes tired and terry has never dropped her

Terry and Stephanie: the most destructive duo. something happens to their braincells when they patrol together, buildings fall, bones break, civilians are crying, theres about ten minutes where everyone else thinks theyre both dead. they both are waiting at the cave for the others, terry is teching her how to make really shitty friendship bracelets (dana taught him, and stephanie is pretending she doesnt know how). they dont know why everyone else is so stressed "i texted you that we were fine, old man. steph and i just ran into black masks trafficing ring and took care of it-- why is dick crying?"

ALL of them have asked about the future before and the ONLY thing he ever reveals is out of context sayings and trends "yeah actually luigi and bowser have so much chemistry, well, i guess that movie isnt out yet huh" "???" (they think luigi and bowser are a cononical couple in the future and wonder where the world went so wrong) and (while interrogating smon) "watch out, you're not acting like the sigma you are, batman, try rizzing 'im up, then he'll talk."

him and bart meet (everyone tried to keep in from happening) and theyre from similar enough futures that when they talk, not a single person around them can follow it, they teach each other the different versions of different tik tok dances and terry goes back to the manor and teches them to steph, cass sees them do it once and has them memorized, duke thought it was funny, dick thought it was adorable (eventually they ALL know them, and it becomes an inside joke) tims prized possession is a video he got of damian doing the most dispassionate renegade the world has ever seen bc jon asked and he cant say no to him)

TL;DR:

terry mcginnis interacting w the other bat kids has a lot of potential for chaos and family bonding

[stormz369]

☕💖 Can I Get Your Number? ☕💖 Ch 25

Jason Todd x (f)Chubby!Reader

written with a female reader in mind, first person pov, no use of Y/N, will probably get NSFW later, let me know if there's anything else I should tag this with!

warnings/labels: it's time for a training montage! minor injury, guns briefly mentioned

wc: 2.1k

Chapter Selection

“I can’t believe we’re doing this…” Jason grumbled softly, starting his bike.

“I told you; you don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Bruce said he'd send a car for me.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, gently squeezing.

“Absolutely not. If you’re joining Thursday training sessions, I’m going with you.” We flew down the street, Jason’s voice continuing in the speaker in my helmet; “I just don’t understand why you want to do this at all…”

“Training with more people will give me a more well-rounded experience. And while you are a very good teacher, you’re also my boyfriend. Somehow I feel like Bruce will be a harsher critic of my abilities.”

“And that’s a good thing??” He took a sharp turn toward the wealthy side of town.

“When we’re talking about possible life and death situations, yes. And I don’t really want you to have to be harsh with me, so why don’t we make that Bruce’s responsibility, since that relationship is already tense anyway?”

Jason sighed softly, gently squeezing my hands. “... I guess. … He can be a … tough teacher though. If he’s too hard on you, you don’t have to take it.”

“I know, baby. And he knows I’m not looking to be added to the patrol schedule, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Jason grumbled more, but continued driving to Wayne Manor. We parked in a large garage, and he led me to an elevator. After pressing several buttons we were headed down to the Batcave, where the entire Wayne family met us.

Damian spied us first, walking over. “Sister?”

“Hey kiddo! You gonna help train me?” I grinned, holding my hand out to him. He hesitantly squeezed my hand once, dropping it quickly.

“... I thought Father was attempting to make a joke when he said you were joining our training sessions…” he frowned deeply.

“Nope, no joke. … Is that a problem?” I raised an eyebrow.

“... I suppose not. … You will spar with me.” He gestured for me to follow him toward some mats.

Jason cried after us; “hey! Be gentle, demon brat. She's still new to this stuff.”

“I am not a fool, Todd. I am not expecting her to be a black belt.” Damian nodded; “stretches first.”

I took a seat and pulled my shoes off before stepping onto the mat, doing our usual pre-workout stretches. Eventually Bruce came over, watching us with vague interest on his face. “Alright, let's see what we have to work with.”

I nodded, and Damian and I put on some padding. We bowed to each other, and began. He started out slowly, letting me get in the flow of things. The others watched, periodically calling out instructions and encouragements. After a while I caught a glimpse of Jason in the corner of my eye, chewing on his lip, and Damian took that moment to sweep my leg out from under me.

“Oof!” I grunted softly as I landed on my back, blinking a bit.

“Don't get distracted. Your opponent will use that moment to their advantage.”

I nodded, accepting Damian's offered hand to get back up. “Go again?”

He nodded, and we went again, and again, and again. Every time, I ended up on my back, and he had another note for me. “Don't watch my face, watch my shoulders.” “If you aren't willing to hurt me, you will never win.” “Follow through, or none of this will matter.” “Focus on your footing; you're off balance.” “Breath with your attacks.”

Eventually, Jason stepped forward. “That's enough, take five.”

I nodded, letting him help me up, and bowed to Damian again. “Thanks for training me, Damian.”

He nodded, smiling a little, and bowed back. “You're not entirely hopeless, considering you're a civilian. If you take this seriously, you'll be a proper martial artist in no time.”

I grinned, nodding, and Jason led me to the side, getting me some water. “How do you feel?”

“I feel fine, baby! Damian is an excellent sparring partner.”

He frowned a bit, massaging my shoulders. “I dunno, some of those throws were unnecessarily rough…”

“Jace, do you think the next mugger I run into is going to be more gentle with me than that?”

He sighed, kissing my neck. “... No. … I just don't like watching you get knocked around.”

“I know, you're so protective of me~ it's sweet, but we gotta power through this part so I can get good.”

He sighed, holding me close. We watched the others pair up for more intensive sparring practices, and Bruce came over. “You did well out there. I want you to work on your balance for a while, Jason can walk you through that. And you should do at least an hour a day of simple exercises; stretching, strength training, and balance training.”

I nodded. “Got it. Thanks Bruce…”

He nodded, pointing out the equipment he recommended I use today, and went back to observing the others. Jason eventually led me over to the equipment, and we started working on my balance.

After weeks of gym days with Jason and BatFam training sessions, I really expected to see myself slimming down a bit. But when I looked in the mirror, I was still soft and curvy. My arm and leg muscles were more pronounced, and I was certain my core muscles were getting stronger too, but my tummy was still round and squishy. It didn't bother me, and Jason seemed rather pleased to not be losing my softness; he tended to nuzzle against my chest and stomach at night, like a big cuddly teddy bear.

Seeing my training progress wasn't making him any less protective either; every time I stepped onto the mat with one of his siblings I could hear him growling at them. It didn't deter Damian, or the girls, but Dick and Tim were particularly hesitant to give me a proper training session. They mostly stuck to helping me with warm ups, and shouting suggestions from the sidelines.

All of the bats were master martial artists, but each had their own preferred fighting styles. Damian taught me to fake out my opponent, and had a proclivity for taking out the leg. Stephanie preferred to mix up her fighting style, keeping her opponents off guard. Cass taught me to anticipate an opponent's moves, watching for the slightest movements that might tell me how to take them down. When Dick and I sparred, he mostly stuck to the basics, not wanting to risk injuring me in front of Jason. Tim mostly helped me work on my blocks and defensive strategy. Bruce stuck to observing and instructing, never actually entering the ring with me. And with the lot of them training me in various martial arts, Jason turned our gym days into gym-and-range days; we would do some stretches and basic core-building, and then we went to the shooting range to work on my aim.

One day before training, Damian had me kneel. Once I was on my knees, he held out a yellow sash with little black bats on it, saying something in a language I didn't know.

I took it, smiling softly; “what's this?”

“Your yellow bat-belt. You've leveled up in your training. Put it on.”

I grinned, nodding, and tied it around my waist; “yes, Sensei.”

Damian smiled at that, nodding once. Once he was happy with how the belt was tied, he led me to the mats for our sparring session. Tim snorted softly, watching from the side.

“What's with the belt? You know the mish-mash of martial arts she's learning wouldn't count at a proper school, right?”

Damian glowered at him; “she has leveled up in the School of the Bat. That is what matters here.”

“Well how come the rest of us don't get bat-belts then?” Tim smirked a bit; “you gotta make them for everyone, Damian!”

“You would not like a physical indicator of what level I deem you to be at, Drake.” Damian smirked at his indignant noises, and turned to me. We bowed and started our sparring session.

In our fourth spar of the day, I landed my first ever hit. One second Damian was in front of me, fists up, and the next he was sprawled out on the floor in front of me, looking up at me in shock.

“Oh my god, Damian! Are you ok??” I fell to my knees next to him as he sat up slowly.

“... I'm fine. … Well done, sister.” He smirked a bit; “now do it again.”

I could hear the smirk in Jason's voice as he called out; “way to go, babe! Kick the demon brat's ass!”

“Language.” Bruce frowned at him, and I helped Damian up.

“Sorry, B. Let's try that again,” he cleared his throat, putting on the most happy-go-lucky voice he could manage; “holy guacamole, bat-babe! Gee golly, can ya do it again, pretty girl?” 

Dick wrinkled his nose, groaning softly. “Dear god, I forgot you used to talk like that. Never do that again.”

“Agreed.” I laughed softly, sticking my tongue out at him; “that was horrible!”

He chuckled, winking at me. Damian frowned, snapping at us; “Enough! No flirting during training! Sister, let's go again.”

My head was ringing. Hands grabbed me, and I was carefully brought into a seated position. I blinked slowly, touching the back of my head gently. No blood. That was good…

“-idn't mean to! Fuck!”

“Well you did! So back off, Grayson!” Damian spoke sharply next to me. His small hands held the sides of my face, making me look at him; “... No dilation, that's good.”

I blinked slowly, frowning. “Wha- … what happened?”

Jason held me against his chest, frowning deeply. “You don't remember, baby?”

I started to shake my head, but the pounding in my head put a stop to that. “Ohhh fuck … ow…”

“Shit …” Dick whined softly from somewhere behind Damian. “Shit, I … I'm so sorry! I swear, I didn't mean to!”

“Dick, just shut up.” Jason growled, holding me closer. He carefully lifted me, holding me against his chest as he carried me toward a long bench.

“She's probably got a concussion. Don't let her sleep.” Tim frowned, bringing an ice pack.

Jason took it, carefully pressing it to my head. “Yeah, no shit…”

“What happened?”

“Dick threw you off the mat.” Jason growled softly, holding me close. “You're done for the day. Time to rest.”

“Ugh… ok. … Rest sounds good…” I frowned, closing my eyes.

Dick hesitantly mumbled my name; “I'm so sorry!”

“It's all good, Dick. I'm not dying.” I groaned softly, leaning against Jason.

Jay growled softly. “It's not all good. I told you to be careful. I told you not to hurt her!”

I shushed him softly, leaning in more. “No yelling…”

He sighed softly, kissing my forehead. “Sorry, baby girl…”

Bruce checked my eyes, frowning a bit. “... Nothing else she can do today. Take her home, have her take a few days off.”

Jay grunted his agreement and the next thing I knew, I was in his arms again, being carried to the elevator. Damian ran after us, bringing my bag along. I smiled softly, reaching down to stroke his hair. “Thanks, kiddo…”

He leaned in to my touch for a second before pulling back; “I'll come over tomorrow after school to check on you.”

“Sounds good. Thanks, Damian.” He smiled a little at that, setting my bag in the car. Jason got me situated, making sure I was buckled, before getting in and driving me home.

“Fucking Dick…” he grumbled softly.

“Relax, baby. It's just a minor concussion. I'll be fine tomorrow.” I smiled softly, watching the scenery.

“Should never have happened…’’

“It was an accident, they happen. Don't be too harsh with him.” 

He sighed, resting a hand on my knee. “... This ok?”

I smiled softly and nodded, turning toward him; “Yeah, that's ok.”

He smiled a little and gently stroked my knee with his thumb; “when we get in, you're gonna rest on the couch. I'll get you some water, and aspirin, and I'll make something light for dinner.”

“Ok. Thanks, Jay~” I sighed softly, closing my eyes for a second.

“Don't sleep, now. You gotta stay awake for a while.”

“Ok, I'll stay awake.” I slowly opened my eyes, blinking a bit. “... So bright though…”

Jason pulled a pair of sunglasses out of his center console and passed them to me. I grinned, kissing his hand, and put them on. “Much better. … Takin' such good care'a me…”

He chuckled softly. “Anything you need, doll. Always.”

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

Taglist (open):

@jawdropforkpop @krys0210 @snowy-violet @superthoughts @wordsfromshona @mystic60 @iwannabealocalcryptid @morstuavitamea-a @frosty--giants @arisa191 @prized-jules @phoenix666stuff @dinonuggysandhuggus @anuttellaa @whore-of-many-hot-men @cottage-worm @v1ckycheesue @roastyyytoastyyy @sarakmec @thestarcatcher7297 @stupidlyunhinged

[theocddiaries]

[IN THE CAR] Tim: I don't see Dami anywhere. Dick: Keep looking. Jason's friends said he went this way. Bruce: And how were those punks your friends? Whatever happened to Roy? Jason: We… had a fallout. Bruce: Honey, I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell me? Jason: Jesus Christ, I screamed it into your face about ten fucking times! But no one ever pays attention in this family. [silence] Bruce: Do you kids really think I don't-- Radio: A helicopter has crash-landed in a storm culvert. According to police, a young boy is trapped in the water of the culvert at the corner of 139th Street. Dick: That has to be Damian. [They arrive at the place, full of firefighters, police people, reporters and some civilians]. Bruce: That's my son down there. [Grabs the megaphone from the fire chief]: Damian, we're here, baby! Daddy's gonna save you! Damian: … Go to hell! Bruce: What the fuck did you just say to me?! Damian: I'm mad at you! You don't care about me. You never cared about me! There's always something more important for you to pay attention to. I only exist so you can yell at me and ben--ground me. And when I needed you today, you told me, "Not now." Well how about now, Father? Bruce: Oh… He's absolutely right… [Through the megaphone]: Son… I'm--I'm sorry. I have been a terrible father lately. Dick [Takes the megaphone]: Your father is very sorry, Dami. Damian: And I'm mad at you too, Richard! Dick: At me!? What did I do!? Damian: You spent all your time with that stupid scissor-spoon that I cut my fingers on! Dick: It was called the Forkoontula, and it's still in the development stages, but you're right. I guess I have been ignoring you a lot lately, too. I'm sorry. Bruce [Takes the megaphone]: But that's over, sweetheart. I'm very sorry. I told myself I'd be a better father than my own dad, and that starts now. You kids mean-- You mean a lot to me. I love you. All of you. Just please come on home. We'll talk about it. Damian: …Can we go see horses then? Dick: Of course! All the horses you want! Bruce: For God's sake, Dick, just get him a fucking Lego farm! Dick: Bruce!! Bruce: Okay! Sure. We can look for horses. But no further promises than just go and look. Damian: Nice! Bruce: I don't want anything larger than a pony. Dick: We'll have to build a stupid stable, and you know it…

[starry-bi-sky]

part THREE of the "Clone Danny" au

the first part is linked above

SO for the "cloning" thing. Danny finding out still occurs in the same way as @minnesota-fats described it as going in their post.

In all honesty it was never his parents' intention to clone Bruce. They were intending to clone Jack instead, actually. But they made Danny shortly after they met up with their old college friend Bruce and they guess some of his DNA ended up on Jack and the hair they used was Bruce's instead.

They never thought to inform Bruce of this mistake.

And Danny? Danny is furious after he gets over his shock. Mainly over the fact that his parents have been lying to him for the last 14 years of his fucking life (i imagine he had his accident when he was 13 instead). He's more angry over that than being a clone. He can't do anything about that. He'll be upset over it later, but for now he's furious over the lie.

He goes and stays with Tucker for the night, and brings his vigilante stuff with him. he tells Tucker that he's a clone. He texts Sam and she comes over for a sleepover. He even tells Ellie later on when he's had time to sleep on it.

After the rage fades though he just... feels unsure, and a little lost. He wants to reach out to this Bruce Wayne guy and tell him that he's been cloned. It's a violation that Danny knows from when he met Ellie. God he loves her like a sister but it doesnt change the fact that he was fucking cloned. If he was Wayne, he'd want to know.

It's as if Danny found out that he was born through a sperm donor and now wanted to reach out to his biological father. but at the same time he was scared of Wayne's reaction. Wayne is a rich civilian man with a business and many kids. He has his life and family, and Danny doesn't want to.. to intrude on that with his own existence.

So he doesn't reach out. Even though he is so tempted to ask Sam if he could come with when she's being dragged into some Wayne Gala by her parents that they managed to get into. instead, he denies her invite, and she tells danny about bruce when he comes back. he sounds like a good guy. This is only backed up by his deep dive into bruce wayne and hearing all about his charities and businesses and its drive to make the Gotham better.

(Bruce Wayne is the only billionaire Sam actually likes, even if she looks down on his personality. She tells Danny about his grumpy youngest son who Sam shares a bit in common with. he's a year or so younger than them.)

It makes Danny feel worse about not telling him.

(danny's obsession, despite popular belief, is not protecting the town. Its family. he can never have enough family)

Of course this one-sided avoidance completely fucking blows up in his face, as normal, when he comes home and finds Bruce fucking Wayne sitting in his kitchen with his parents happily chatting over their college days. it was mainly Jack talking.

"Danbo! You're just in time, our old friend Bruce dropped by for a visit!" Jack exclaimed cheerfully.

Danny made direct eye contact with bruce, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen." he says calmly to the door, internally freaking out. And then opens the door again. Bruce Wayne is still. there. looking vaguely amused. His eyebrow raised in an elegant arch

its weird. He looks nothing like Dan. Its comforting.

danny is pale in the face and he smiles painfully, his teeth grinding. "hiiiiii" he says through his teeth.

"your son doesn't look too happy to see me" bruce jokes, and danny closes the door quietly. his long hair is falling over his face in strands. he prays that bruce doesnt notice the resemblance.

"he's just being shy" maddie says, giving danny a reprimanding look

danny shoots her a "what the fuck" look in response, and keeps his head turned away from him while walking by. there's a small boy sitting next to bruce with tanned skin and emerald eyes. he looks like danny. he looks like bruce.

he must be Damian.

"I have homework, i'll be up in my room" he practically announces to the room, and takes the stairs two at a time. if you asked him, he wasn't running.

he calls tucker, trying not to yell.

"Bruce Wayne is sitting in my kitchen"

aaaand.... my fingers are freezing off thanks to the ac so im gonna leave that there for now. I'll go more into phantom meeting the vigilantes or the justice league tmrw. hopefully.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 4.5 (Dani interlude) Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 7.5 (Dan Interlude) Part 8

[bluespiritshonour]

Why is it always Robin has to prove himself to Batman? Be it any Robin. And no, I'm not talking about characters, because Bruce—Bruce is like “Everyone must prove themselves to me but I'm not answerable to anyone” that motherfucker. Very IC.

I'm talking about stories, about narratives—why does every Robin-centric narrative has a “prove themselves to Batman” arc—but Bruce's arc never involves proving himself to anyone?

Why, after the events of the Tower of Babel, Bruce didn't have to work to gain the Justice League's approval? Why didn't he have to work to redeem himself, dammit!

Yes. He had to reveal his identity. But then, it wasn't his idea. It was Clark's. It's fundamentally different from Dick unmasking in front of the Titans: Dick feels in his bones that it isn't fair that he's the only one masked and the Titans are up for mutiny, so he made an executive decision.

It didn't even occur to Bruce to do it. Dammit, the fucker wasn't even trying to get back into Justice League. Clark had to persuade him. And no, I don't mean he should have gone and begged them to let him in. He doesn't need them.

But let's be honest: none of the Leaguers need the League. But humanity does. That's why they put their differences aside and band together.

Bruce is selfless when it comes to sacrificing his family a la Batman : Ego. Oh!—it's Bruce's children that are dying in Batman's mission. Isn't he so noble?—the picture of tragedy? The greiving father? The man who can't even have a steady romantic relationship because Batman wouldn't let him? So selfless—until he isn't. Until the JL—in other words, a planet full of people—need him to swallow his pride. Then, he isn't selfless anymore.

He's selfless when he's a father sending his children to war for the greater good—but he's not selfless when it's time to swallow his pride, to take the risk of trusting someone even after being traumatised and betrayed—for the greater good. (And honestly his trust issues seem narcissistic when surrounded by people like Dick, Alfred and freaking Commissioner Gordon!)

You know who does it? Dick Grayson. That's who. The “trust no one” maxim has been drilled into him by Bruce, but even then he chooses to trust. Not because he's stupid, but because it's a requirement. He totally expects to be stabbed in the back; he isn't naïve. But he'd rather be betrayed than have someone be barred from help because they seemed suspicious. It's canon in Titans. He says it in words, look it up. To Brother Blood, I guess.

Bruce didn't have to work to get on the League's good side. He just had to reveal his ID to regain trust and that, too, was Clark's idea.

And that's not an attempt at redemption, because if it was, then why did Clark have to do it too? Clark didn't do anything to deserve it. But Bruce forces him to and Clark agrees: for the greater good that the League trusting each other would ensure.

Clark Kent, who chooses to forego a mask so that people trust him. Literally, it comes down to that. Who has to built his whole civilian life around the fact that he shows his bare fucking face to the whole world.

And honestly, if I were to throw genre convention aside and read the text the hard way, Bruce doesn't seem really all that bothered with keeping his ID a secret. He's nothing compared to Clark. I mean. Come on, look at the number of people who know Bruce's ID and the number that know Clark's and tell me. Fucking tell me who's more serious about that stuff.

Bruce's entire existence hinges on other characters’ kindness, in and out of universe. In-universe there's this massive brigade of people who know his ID and keep it a secret. Out of universe, writers who show him to be the best even though Clark, Diana, Dick are all more worthy than him.

This is what you get when you let little incels run creative industries.

What did Bruce ever have to do to redeem himself to anyone? Literally anyone? Bruce would let Gotham burn if it meant he keeps his colossal pride intact. But oh, send his children to die: woe is him, this greiving father, so tragique—would absolutely do that.

He isn't even a hero. You know the impact of Batman: Ego and BtAS pales when put next to his very selfish acts when it comes to himself.

Because always—ALWAYS—the uwu factor in Bruce's stories aren't personal.

Not like it's in Clark's who has to face xenophobia because he's an alien. He's natural existence—his powers that are a part of him existing—being called a threat. He still helps.

Not like Diana who comes to the Man's World and decides to stay behind despite it being, well, a Man's World. That would never really respect her as much as it respects a man, any man, even though she's a literal Goddess. Coming and staying in Man's World for her means loneliness. Being immortal and watching every friend she ever made become a memory. But she chose to do it. Because at the end of the day, it's not about her. It's about helping people.

But for Bruce, in true male-is-default fashion, it's about losing people. People he loves.

His parents' death, Jason's death and so on and so forth. I'm not saying losing someone is not painful. I'm just saying it's always about his manpain.

Making the victim's pain his.

[fractualized]

Today in "I know we bust on comics a lot around here but there are still plenty of comics worth your time," I think Robin Lives is off to a promising start!

Also, I have to say, I found myself comparing it to Three Jokers. For one thing, it seems like much more of an examination of trauma than Three Jokers was purported to be. For another, while Three Jokers had me doubting that Geoff Johns really read The Killing Joke, Robin Lives feels like JM DeMatteis gives a crap about what actually happened in "Death in the Family."

But my petty grudges aside, here's what I liked about Robin Lives #1, with lots of spoilers. (And images of child murder and such, obviously.)

Unless there are shenanigans later, Joker definitely dies on the very first page.

Falls at Bruce's feet. Aw. :(

So this presents to us an instant mystery! Was Bruce responsible? Or was it Jason? Someone else entirely? Looks like the answer will be in three more issues. For now, we flash back to the aftermath of Jason's near-death.

DeMatteis deals with Joker's infamous ambassadorship by simply… taking it away. Which is pretty funny to me.

"Honestly, we were coming off a pretty wild party when we made that decision. Who knows what we were thinking? Hahaha, no hard feelings, right— What's that gas??"

I should note the narration in the purple box, which starts before this scene. Halfway through the issue, we learn that this story is being narrated by Dr. Saraswati Dev (aka Sara), a trauma doctor that Bruce hires for Jason. As we read what happens in this deviation from canon, she examines how we should view people who do such terrible things when their own lives and actions are affected by mental illness, their own trauma, and so on. It's an admittedly blunt story-telling tactic, spelling out the nuance for the reader, but I don't mind it, and it tells us that this version of Jason's story won't end cleanly.

Sara also clearly knows much more about Batman and his sidekicks than the average civilian, which raises the question of how she gets so involved in their lives. I'm hoping it's not because she becomes a love interest… but then again if that's presented as one of Bruce's screwed up mistakes, that has potential!

Anyway, as reviewed in a previous post, Joker was uneasy about killing Jason from the start, and that doesn't change in this version. When Bruce rescues the Iranian representatives, Joker tries to downplay what he did.

Hee hee, "Batsy-boo."

Joker can't escape for long, though.

And I have to pause here to note that this scene is reminiscent of the climax in the "Going Sane" storyline, which DeMatteis also wrote.

[Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #68]

There are differences in the scenarios, of course, but the other thing about "Going Sane" is that Joker/Joseph repeatedly refers to the urge to return to his former self as drowning.

[Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #66]

So in Robin Lives, it adds an extra kick when Bruce overturns Joker's boat and then stands by as Joker drowns.

Oh god that feeling when your secret fears come to fruition

But don't worry!

This is all an interesting variation "Death in the Family." Then, in his grief, Bruce was constantly fluctuating on if he was going to kill Joker, and his eventual attempt was trapping Joker in a crashing helicopter. In Robin Lives, he seems ambivalent too, again engineering the circumstances for Joker to die but not being an entirely active participant, and also not angry at Clark for rescuing him. (Speaking of which, Clark sure as heck didn't rescue Joker from the original helicopter incident. I guess he's ambivalent in his own way!)

So Joker is returned to Arkham Asylum, where Bruce talks to the current director, Dr. Benjamin Stoner (who evidently really was the director at the time but also a literal agent of chaos??? OK I guess I'll keep that in mind). Stoner pushes back on Bruce's assessment of the Joker.

At the time, Bruce vanishes, but as we see in the narration when Bruce faildads hard with a recovering Jason, he later seems to reflect on Stoner's words along with Jason's.

Jason appears at the start of the issue in the hospital, but we finally get into it with him in the second half. He keeps withdrawing from Bruce and Alfred, so Dick appears to provide some emotional support.

The page already notes that, no, this chat is not going to be enough to get Jason back to baseline. But it's also darkly hilarious that Dick thought it would be, especially keeping in mind that the implication is that this is the only time Dick comes over, and it's after Jason has been listless for some time. It's almost like this whole family is bad at feelings.

But Bruce does finally hire a professional, our narrator.

Of course, Jason overhears their discussion and thinks Bruce is planning to send him away.

Ouch.

Jason decides to prove that he's totally fine, actually, by saving a gala from Scarecrow by himself. Did you guess that he gets hit with fear toxin? Because yeah, they always get hit with fear toxin!

Oh my god he just wanted his mom to save him 😭

OH GOD FOR A SECOND I FORGOT IT WAS FEAR TOXIN

I should take a second to jump back and note that Jason imagining Joker getting one right between the eyes, just like we saw at the start, feels like a solid indication that in the end, he will definitely be Joker's killer... but, well, you really don't know until it happens.

So Jason is out of commission, but before Scarecrow can kidnap him for interrogation, Batman finally shows up. Bruce beats the everloving crap out of Crane, obviously still consumed with anger about what happened in Ethiopia. The freaking cops have to ask him to stop.

And then the final page is just more of the saddest of sadtimes.

I do love that first narrative detail in the top panel. Bruce is feeling angry and guilty but also humiliated and ashamed. He knows Jason is a vulnerable kid who needs help, but as always, Jason also represents Bruce's personal failures. He couldn't get Jason to do exactly as he was told. He couldn't protect Jason from harm. He couldn't maintain the image of Batman as invulnerable, not with this terrified boy shaking on the ground. Bruce does not have control.

It's very human, and it's a key ingredient in whatever disaster is to come. Even if we didn't have Sara's final questions in the last two panels, we can already tell that Bruce is going to continue to make not-great choices.

I've already ordered #2, and I'm looking forward to reading what DeMatteis has in store in the next three issues. Barbara has to make an appearance, right? And she'd be a great candidate for the shooter...

[moonlight0934]

Crocodile Tears

Damian punches the last goon in the face before turning back to his brothers. Tim and Dick are both done dealing with their goons too which means the only target left is Joker himself, and Bruce went after him a while ago. Tim drops his staff, causing Dick and Damian to just stare at him.

“Sorry, my hand seized up,” Tim says, his face red.

Damian laughs.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re a vigilante, and you just dropped your weapon?”

Tim grumbles something as he grabs his staff.

“Shut up.”

Damian huffs, and turns away.

“We should go give Batman backup,” he says after a quiet second.

“You know that he doesn’t want us going after Joker,” Dick says.

“So what? He’s not that much better. He could die,” Damian replies, folding his arms.

“As much as I want to trust him, he doesn’t have the best track record,” Tim says.

“Fine, let’s go find him.”

Damian nods.

“He turned his tracker off when he went to find Joker. So, we should split up and look for him,” Tim says, pulling up a map of the city. “Nightwing, you take this area, while Robin can take the other one. I’ll go over to the harbor.”

“Are you alright with that?” Dick asks.

Damian nods again.

“That sounds acceptable. I will radio if I find anything.”

They disperse, and Damian heads to his area of the city. There’s an abandoned apartment building that has a few lights on. At first, Damian thinks he’s found the fight between Batman and Joker. However, as he gets closer, he realizes that there’s no way. It’s far too quiet, and there isn’t much noticeable movement from inside. Damian still walks into the building, and he takes the stairs since he doesn’t know for sure that anything is happening.

Damian slips into the apartment with the lights on, and sees the weirdest scene in front of him. Jason, who hadn’t been responding to their attempts at communication since Joker started attacking, is sitting across the table from Scarecrow. Damian immediately holds his breath as they both turn to look at him. Damian slips his filtered mask on his face as Jason smiles.

“Hey Baby Bat, what are you doing here?”

“Hood what are you doing?”

Damian types out an SOS message on his communicator. It explains that he’s with Scarecrow, and he doesn’t know the situation.

That should warn them to wear a mask. Who knows what I’ve already been exposed to. It might be in the whole building.

“What do you mean? I’m talking with one of the people that lost their homes in the recent arson cases. I’m going to help him if I have the opportunity.”

Damian narrows his eyes.

“No, you’re not. That’s Scarecrow.”

Scarecrow smiles at Damian.

“Well, it seems that you didn’t breathe in the gas that’s coating this room. That was very smart of you. I guess I’m just going to have to give you a shot of it so you can tell whatever backup you have that it was a false alarm.”

“What?” Jason asks, his eyes slightly glassed over.

“Can you give this to him?” Scarecrow asks, holding a syringe out to Jason. “It’s a vaccine for something that’s been going around this area. You wouldn’t want your brother to catch it, would you?”

Jason takes it, shaking his head.

“Come here.”

Damian shakes his head.

“Hood, snap out of it.”

Jason continues walking towards him. Damian takes a step back, his eyes trained on Scarecrow.

“Come on, it’s not that bad. It’s just a shot. You’ve never thrown a tantrum about a shot before.”

“I don’t throw tantrums!” Damian cries, obviously offended.

Jason grabs his arm, but Damian kneecaps him. He twists his arm away from Jason, and storms over to Scarecrow. Damian grabs Scarecrow’s collar, but Jason tackles him before he can do anything.

“What is wrong with you? Attacking a civilian?” Jason demands, anger coloring his tone.

“Shut up, and get off of me!” Damian cries, trying to push Jason off of him.

Jason is about to stick the needle into his arm when the door slams open. Dick comes in, and stares at both of them.

“Get off of him!” Dick says, his tone hard. Dick’s eyes start to glass over slightly.

“Put your mask on,” Damian demands, then drives his knee into Jason’s stomach.

Jason stumbles, leaning against the wall, and Damian climbs out from underneath him.

“Why would I need a mask? You and Hood need to stop fighting, and get along.”

“Because of Scarecrow!”

“Scarecrow isn’t here, Da-”

Damian is across the room in an instant, and he presses his hand against Dick’s mouth.

“Were you just about to say my name in costume?” Damian hisses, his eyes dark.

“Calm down. It’s just us, Hood, and some civilian. I’m sure he won’t say anything.”

“That’s not a random civilian, that’s Scarecrow. Either way, you shouldn’t be saying my name in front of civilians.”

“Did you hit your head?”

Jason climbs to his feet, but he looks confused.

“What was I doing?”

“You were just about to sedate Robin because he attacked me,” Scarecrow says, putting on his best scared voice. He sniffles, and a single tear rolls down his face.

“Can you just put the burlap sack back on your head, because you are the ugliest crier I’ve ever seen,” Damian snaps before turning back to Dick.

“Robin, you can’t talk to people like that. Is that true, Hood? Did Robin attack him, and were you trying to sedate him?”

Jason looks down at the syringe in his hand, and then nods. Scarecrow continues fake crying in the background.

They’re both really high by now, so I have to figure out how to restrain both of them, and not let Scarecrow get away. This is going to be difficult, but I have to figure something out before someone else shows up without a mask.

Dick grabs Damian by the shoulders.

“You have to calm down, Robin.”

Damian glares at him, then slams his elbow into Dick’s face as hard as he can. Dick stumbles back into the wall while Jason rushes forward to grab Damian. Damian ducks, throwing a batarang at Scarecrow, who is trying to move closer to the window. It doesn’t seem like he’s actively trying to sneak away, just trying to make it easier to do if Damian does get the upper hand. The batarang hits him square in the jaw, knocking him off of his feet.

Jason goes crazy at that, and grabs Damian like he’s a rag doll. Damian almost snaps his neck, but then remembers exactly who he’s fighting. Jason slams him against the wall hard enough to crack a few of his ribs. Damian gasps.

“You just assaulted a civilian!” Jason forces Damian’s face up to lock eyes with him. “Do you understand how serious this is? I thought we were past this? You can’t keep acting like that!”

Damian blinks, all of the rational thoughts leaving his brain. Scarecrow is getting up now, wiping the tear tracks off of his face. Damian bites his lip.

“Yeah, you should be upset. You’re acting just like your grandfather.”

Jason drops Damian, and hits the floor a second later. Tim is standing behind him, a mask in place. Dick is also unconscious exactly where Damian left him. Tim knocks Scarecrow out too before turning back to Damian.

“Hey, are you ok? Did he hurt you?”

Damian shakes his head even though his ribs and back are screaming.

“Ok, well we need to get them out of here. Batman had Joker handled already. I assume that Scarecrow was trying to use the distraction to get a hold of Hood. What he planned to do after that, I’m not sure. For now though, we just need to get them home. Can you help me get Nightwing to the car?”

Damian nods again, almost mechanically at this point. Tim looks concerned, but doesn’t say anything. Once they get Jason and Dick to the infirmary, Damian doesn’t wait to hear if they’re ok, or if Bruce found out what Scarecrow wanted. He just changes, and goes straight to his room. He locks the door behind himself, and throws himself into bed. He ends up crying alone until he falls asleep, unable to get his brother’s words out of his head.

[wolfjackle-creates]

How about Tim Drake and Danny Fenton with 7 and/ 54!

7. Trapped in a room/closet/elevator

54. Kidnapping

Well, doesn't that just give ideas. I'm going with Tim POV on this one.

Word Count: 1.6k

-----

Tim came back to awareness with the feeling of ropes cutting into his wrists and ankles and the absence of a mask on his face. He was tied to a very uncomfortable chair.

His head hurt, but more like a hangover than physical trauma so he must've been drugged. Where had he been?

The museum, that's right. He'd been at the museum. There'd been a class of out-of-state high school students visiting and they were acting strange. Bruce sent him to check up on them, make sure they were who they'd said they were.

Without moving, he mentally checked his body. Nothing to be alarmed by. Maybe a new bruise or two and his wrists and ankles would be sore. He was wearing his shirt and pants, but his shoes and socks had been removed along with any of his possessions.

So he let himself focus on the rest of the room. An arrhythmic tapping sound was coming from just a few feet away. But his head was still foggy from whatever he'd been drugged with and he couldn't figure out what it was.

He couldn't hear anything else.

So he let himself moan slightly and shifted his weight as if he was only just waking up. He opened his eyes slightly and didn't bother hiding the wince of pain at the light from the bare bulb that hung from the ceiling.

"Hey, cool! You're awake!" exclaimed someone. They sounded young.

Tim looked over and saw a boy about his own age also tied to a chair. The tapping noise had been him rocking back and forth on his toes. The room they were in was small, more of a closet really. About five feet by five feet and shelving had clearly only been removed recently. The door had no window. No way to know how long he'd been out.

"Where are we?" asked Tim. "What happened?" Tim narrowed his eyes against the light and looked closer. The kid looked familiar, where had he seen him?

"You okay?" the kid asked.

"Killer headache. Better than a concussion, I guess, but these drugs, man. Did they not get you with them?" And then he placed the kid, he'd been part of the group he'd been following.

The boy shrugged. "Things like that usually wear off for me pretty quickly. I'm Tim. Who're you? This your first kidnapping?"

"I— What? I'm Tim."

"Huh, cool. We have the same name. They kidnapped us because my dad's Bruce Wayne and they want ransom. When they found two boys of a similar age with black hair and blue eyes in the museum, they took us both rather than waste time figuring out who was who."

And suddenly it made sense what this kid was doing. He was trying to trick them into thinking he was Tim. Perhaps so Tim could escape or just to sow confusion. Tim shook his head and winced when that just caused throbbing pain. "What are you talking about? I'm Tim Drake, adopted son of Bruce Wayne."

"Dude, why are you lying? We both know I'm Tim."

"You're the liar," he shot back. He couldn't let a civilian take the fall for him.

But before their argument could continue to cycle, the door banged open, making the pounding in Tim's head worse. Two men stood there: one holding a gun, the other a phone. Most likely he was videotaping them. Both of them wore more guns and knives openly.

"Look like Sleeping Beauty's finally awake," sneered the one holding the phone.

Tim pretended to be afraid as was protocol for civilian kidnappings. "Who are you? What do you want?"

His companion, however, did not seem to get the memo. "You'd better let us go right now or you will regret it."

"Looks like we've got a feisty one on our hands, eh?" asked Gun-kidnapper.

"Smile at the camera, boys, we'll be sending this to Daddy Wayne. Better pray he pays up. Otherwise worse'll happen."

"Worse than what?" demanded his companion. "I've been in detentions worse'n this."

"Shut up!" hissed Tim.

"You better listen to your pal, boy, because you just volunteered for our first demonstration," said Phone-kidnapper. "Hear that, Brucie? We're gonna shoot your boy, or maybe not your boy. And you'll pay us the demanded ransom if you don't want us to do it again. Every half hour you delay, we'll put another bullet in one of these boys."

Without delay, Gun-kidnapper raised his weapon and shot. But he missed as Tim's companion managed to get enough leverage to knock his chair over.

Not that it was enough to stop the kidnapper who simply shot again. And this time he didn't miss. Tim watched as blood quickly began dripping from the boy's thigh onto the floor. At least his position on the floor meant it was elevated.

The two kidnappers laughed before leaving.

"Shit, are you okay? Why'd you do that?" Tim pulled at his bonds. The other boy needed medical attention ASAP. Worth using some of his Robin Training to help out the brave, idiotic kid.

The kid chuckled through clenched teeth. "I've had worse, it's fine."

"Worse? That's a gunshot wound!"

"And last Tuesday, I was hit by a spear and lasers, bit by a vulture, and punched through a wall over the span of, like, four hours."

That gave Tim pause. If that was true, and he seemed oddly unconcerned about a bullet wound for it not to be, he was clearly not a normal teen. "Who are you?"

The boy grinned. "I told you, I'm Tim Drake! Now, do you trust me?"

"Trust you to do what?" Tim had almost gotten one hand free.

"We're getting out of here, Timbuk-two."

Before Tim could blink, the kid did...something...and all his bonds fell away. Then he lunged at Tim, pushing him out of the chair and into the wall. They came through into what looked like an average Gotham warehouse.

Tim bit his tongue as they continued flying through the wall and ended up outside. It was still daytime, but dusk was getting close.

"What the hell?" whispered Tim. "You're a meta?"

"Not exactly, but close enough. I'm Danny. I can keep us invisible and intangible, but I can't block sound. So only speak when needed. Want to figure out who these guys are or leave?"

"You need to get medical attention. Much as I want to know who these guys are, we're leaving."

"I'm fine! I've had worse."

Tim looked down from where they were floating and noted the blood dripping to the ground. "Dude, you're bleeding. We're leaving."

That seemed to knock Danny out of it. "Oops. Suppose you're right. Where should we go?"

"There's a doctor in crime alley who treats everyone. She won't talk about your meta status and she'll be able to contact Bruce for me to let him know we're out."

Danny hesitated a moment before asking, "Can you promise she won't talk? Because there're people who'd like nothing more than to strap me down and cut me open to figure out how I work."

"Fly a few buildings over and land on a roof so I can get a tourniquet on your leg. Are those the same people who hurt you last Tuesday?"

Danny did as directed. "Believe it or not, no. That guy wants me to be his son."

Once the landed, Danny let him go. "What the fuck?" Tim patted himself down hoping that the kidnappers had left him with anything useful only to sigh. He'd have to make do with his shirt.

"I know. He's a total fruitloop. Nah, it's the government that wants to vivisect me. And a few others, but I think they'd stop once they realized who I am." Danny looked him up and down. "But it looks like you might have a story or two to tell as well."

"You are going to tell me everything, Danny," said Tim as he set about tearing his shirt into strips. "Bruce would totally take you in if you need a safe place to stay. Especially after you helped me escape."

"And what can you do about it? There's laws that make experimentation on people like me legal."

That made Tim pause in what he was doing, but only for a minute. "If that's true, I happen to be friends with two very good investigative journalists who would love to do a series of articles. They've a good track record of getting unjust laws overturned."

Danny didn't say anything for a moment and Tim looked over at him. It seemed like he was actually contemplating the offer. "Really? I'll want proof before I talk. And I'll need to reach out to some friends for a second opinion."

"Only sensible. Okay, this is as good as I'm gonna get it. I'm going to bandage your leg now."

"Just do it."

Looking at the wound, Tim could see the bullet hadn't passed through Danny's thigh but had seemed to have fallen out. Perhaps when he'd density-shifted them? But then why did their clothes remain intact? He'd have to ask later. Instead, he focused on making a bandage and tourniquet out of the strips of his shirt.

"Okay, that's as good as it's going to get. How high can you fly?"

"Higher than you can breathe."

"I see. Well, fly us up a bit so I can figure out where we are in the city, then I'll give you directions to Leslie's clinic."

"Will do!"

With how well Tim knew the streets of Gotham from the sky, it was the work of moments to get his bearings and fifteen minutes later, they were using the back entrance to Leslie's clinic.

A week later, Wayne Manor had a new resident and Clark Kent and Lois Lane published their first joint article on the Anti-Ecto acts.

-----

I honestly went into this one without a plan, something I usually hate doing. But I like how it turned out! Let me know what y'all think.

I've one more prompt to fill which should happen by the end of the week. Still accepting new ones, but the turn around will be a bit longer I'm afraid.

[rafa-jaja]

Asking for your help...(pt2)

Bruce Wayne x Gn reader

You never thought you'd see Wayne Manor again, but here you are...standing in front of the front door, debating whether to knock or not. But before you could decide the door opened, it was Alfre.

- Please, I ask you to come in, we don't want you to get sick from being outside too long in this weather.

- Hello Alfred, you haven't changed a bit.

- Compliment me, wait here please.

You wanted to talk more with Alfred, but you knew that's not why you were here, the truth is you didn't know what you were doing in this place. Every inch of the property brings back bittersweet memories.

Right now you could be in the comfort of your own home, enjoying a nice cup of tea with your cat as your faithful companion. But no, you had to do what Constantin's note said.

Suddenly something knocked you to the floor, it was Tim, he had grown so much since the last time you saw him.

- You're back! you don't know how much I missed you," he said hugging you tightly.

- Tim...I appreciate your love, but your crushing me.

- Sorry, I was really looking forward to seeing you again, how have you been?

You were about to answer him when someone caught your attention, it was Bruce, the bastard hadn't changed a bit. You got up from the floor and faced him.

- I'm going to make something clear, I'm not here for you, I only came because a friend asked me to.

- Understood...while you are in the mansion I would like you to see something.

You simply nodded and followed him to the Batcave, it was the same as the last time you were here. Bruce was looking for something in his files when someone appeared out of the shadows, you didn't know him, but you guessed who he was...he was Bruce's biological son, you had to admit it, he was almost an identical copy of Bruce.

- And who are you? Another super useless one that is going to try to help us?

Yes, he's the same even in sarcasm, but you can't blame him...it's not his fault that his prominent genes are from his paternal side.

- Damian, behave yourself...I'm sorry he didn't mean to be rude.

- Don't worry, I'm not affected by sarcasm.

- Ok...I wanted you to see this, it's the surveillance videos from the bombing a few weeks ago.

On the big computer there were different videos of Talia and her henchmen destroying police stations and attacking civilians, this is one of the many reasons why you withdrew, seeing innocent people suffer always made your heart clench in your chest.

You quickly deduced what this was all about, it seems Bruce and the league have not been able to discover what the target of these attacks is, they attack without any pattern, their next target could be a company or a school.

- We were unable to capture Talia, and she has shown no signs of what her plan is...we have one of her henchmen in custody, and I wanted to ask you to do me a favor-

- To read his mind and figure out the plan, you don't have to repeat everything, just take me to him and let me see what I can do. But I'm only going to do this once, as a favor to the league, nothing more.

When they arrived, some Super who were old companions greeted you, others looked at you with surprise, you knew what they were thinking, you had returned after years. But you only do this to get Bruce off your back and finally have a normal life.

They sat the man down in front of you, without delay you entered his mind, you were surprised to see that there was nothing...he literally had no thoughts of his own, he was like a shell of bones and flesh that followed orders, he had no control or conscience, not even a sense of right or wrong.

- He hasn't spoken since he was caught? - You asked the guard present.

- Nothing, not even a whisper or a threat.

You left the room and went to the conference room.

- Did you finish quickly, did anything happen, did you find out anything useful?

- That man has nothing... he's like a dummy.

Those present were surprised, they couldn't believe what you were telling them.

- A dummy? You're telling me that this man destroyed an entire building...he's a puppet controlled by Talia?

- Yes, I'm afraid there is no information that would be of any help with your case...well, with that said I'm leaving, I've done what you asked me to do, so I hope you will leave me alone from here on out.

No one objected, but the desperation on their faces was evident. When you arrived at your house you expected to finally be able to rest, but great was your surprise to see Constantin sitting in your living room.

- Not that I mind you being in my house, but at least you could call me.

- You know I like to be spontaneous, I like to have the surprise factor.

You let out a little laugh, Constantin is your best friend, he has been with you through thick and thin and has helped you fight your inner demons.

- So? what do you want to do? I don't have any alcohol at the moment.

- The truth is I just wanted to spend some time with you, I know these last few weeks haven't been the best.

- Ok...you want to watch a bad demon movie for a laugh?

- You read my mind.

It was all laughs that afternoon for the two of you, but elsewhere, specifically at Wayne Manor there was someone thinking about you.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Can Bruce put his thoughts about you in order? Does Talia have a macabre plan? Will you have to face your demons again or overcome your past?

Part Three?

[suzukiblu]

Burning

"Do we know who sired Todd's pup?" Pup Brother asks warily as he ferries back the nesting pillows just a little awkwardly. It takes him a few trips to get them all, but Jason doesn't mind. There's no rush.

"He hasn't said," Grandpa says.

"Surely we should inquire, then," Pup Brother says. "It seems . . . important."

"Damian, you and Bruce are literally the only people in this pack living with any kind of a blood relative," Loud Sister tells him wryly. "Except for Jason and the baby now, I guess. And also that is a super-rude kind of question to ask somebody who's in feral drop anyway."

"Well, they could be someone dangerous," Pup Brother grumbles. "Or a civilian, in which case they would need to be retrieved as soon as possible."

"Retrieved?" Little Brother asks with a frown. "Why?"

"They would not be safe outside the manor," Pup Brother says. "The sire of the first pups of our pack's next generation would be a valuable target for our enemies."

". . . okay, good point there," Little Brother mutters as he and Loud Sister both wince. "Uh, Jason? Who'd you spend your last heat with?"

"Mine," Jason says, contentedly fluffing the new layer of pillows in his nest.

". . . your what, exactly?" Loud Sister tries.

"Mine," Jason repeats, really more absorbed in the process of nest-building than anything else. They can talk once his nest is done, he figures. "My . . . mmmmm. My sun. And my arsenal."

"Please don't mean a Kryptonian when you say 'sun'," Little Brother mutters under his breath. "Or an assassin when you say 'arsenal'."

"I love them," Jason replies in satisfaction, and lays down another blanket. This one smells like Grandpa. It's so nice.

"Oh wow, Jason just actually admitted an emotional attachment willingly and in cold blood and without triggering the pit," Loud Sister says, her eyes wide. "Yeah, okay, we reaaaaally shouldn't have asked about the sire."

"No, Damian's right," Little Brother says, shaking his head. "This is important. They could be in danger. Or, uh, planning to attack us. Depending. Are your sun and your arsenal civilians, Jason?"

Jason laughs.

That's such a funny question.

"They're gonna burn down Gotham for me," he says dreamily.

"Not the most reassuring answer but noted," Little Brother says. "Are they going to burn it down with, I don't know, specifically heat vision?"

Jason laughs again.

"I'm just gonna call Kon real quick," Little Brother says, pulling out his phone.

"Isn't he an omega?" Loud Sister asks doubtfully.

"Yeah, but Supergirl's an alpha," Little Brother says. "And, relatedly, so is Power Girl."

Jason takes a moment to think about Power Girl. Just, like . . . as a person and everything. And as an experience.

He purrs.

". . . yeah, definitely call Kon," Loud Sister says, half-eyeing him for some reason.

Little Brother calls.

[fluffy-anna]

Things i would say if I were friends with Battinson.

No lube, no protection, No proof reading, opened the pencil icon and wrote, don't judge

Basically a fanfic of you (or rather us) being chaotic besties with Battinson.

You; hey you haven't been replying to my texts everything okay?

*Battinson on his 8th (16 hour) Nirvana playlist and not understanding the riddles, as well as hunch backed on the floor with scattered papers and his shirt nowhere to be found*; THE VOICES

You; Alfred YOUR SON HAS RABIES WHAT THE FUCK

*battinson shows up randomly to your doorstep, mascara dripping down his face and a very poor attempt to hide his super hero identity*

Bruce; can I borrow your waterproof mascara

*you, knowing this could range from him listening to songs, to him cosplaying or him actually being the flying rodent*

You; sure...

*bruce who takes too much mascara*

You; fucking bitch-

You, over radio: Testing. Testing. Bruce , can you hear me?

Bruce , standing next to You: I’m standing right here.

You: You’re coming through good and loud.

Bruce : ‘Cause I’m standing right here.

Bruce : You tricked me!

You: I deceived you. ‘Trick’ makes it sound like we have a friendly relationship.

*bruce gets the wrong order and doesn't want to bother the servers*

*you and equal mess but strong for him*

*both talking in tiny*

You;he asked for no pickles

*both nearly dying*

Bruce : I actually have a black belt.

You: In what, karate?

Bruce : No, from Gucci.

You : Can you keep a secret?

Bruce: Do you know anything about my life?

You : you literally tell half of it on accident, and the other half isn't that hard to guess. answer the fucking question bitc-

Bruce : Do you take constructive criticism?

You: I only take cash or credit.

Bruce : You saved me. I owe you my life.

You: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not very impressed

*A paparazzi called bruce rude things, and started harassing the socially awkward lanky boy.*

Bruce : Violence isn't the answer.

You: You’re right.

Bruce : *sighs in relief*

You: Violence is the question.

Bruce : What?

You, bolting away: And the answer is yes.

Bruce , running after them: NO-

*you who's chasing the reporter with a plastic knife and a scream that could kill black Canary*

I don't know this is all I can think of randomly, please reblog more ideas would love to write a shitpost fix with Battinson x civilian bestie reader!