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#bruce: no thoughts head empty
tinkerbelle05 · 1 year
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Okay but imagine Battinson driving to Kansa for a Batman case and then he just gets lost. Like yea, he traveled for years for training and all but he was mainly focused on the training aspect, not sightseeing. And to make matters worst (because if something can go wrong, with Bruce it most certainly will) he has a busted tire with no tools in sight to fix it.
“Um, excuse me, sir?” Bruce heard a young boy’s voice call out to him. It was two of them, they looked like carbon copies of each other so they must be siblings. Though to Bruce, they looked more like the time laps of a boy who hit a punk phase in his teen years.
This wasn’t exactly a busy street and in his 2 hours of being stuck here, Bruce had only seen 2 cars pass by. He wondered where these kids came from.
He puts on the “Brucie” mask and grinned, “Hello, is there anything you need fellas?”
He knew that Brucie Wayne was widely known throughout the US. He cannot let down his guard and let his cover blow, even if it’s just children who realistically probably had no interest in socialites from a different state.
The light of recognition and surprised hits the older boy's face and he exclaimed, “Your Bruce Wayne?!”
Knew it.
“Yes, I am. And what are y’all’s names?” He made sure to keep his voice light and his smile friendly and open.
“Um..that’s my brother, Jon, and my name’s Conner.” He stammered out. “We noticed that you weren’t moving and wanted to help.”
That was rather nice of the two boys but incredibly naive and unsafe. This could’ve easily been a ruse to lure in unsuspecting people who are too kind. But maybe that’s just the Gothamite in him speaking, you learn early on not to trust strangers, especially those who are being nice to you.
“Yea!” Jon excitedly confirmed and he looked over at Bruce’s car. “It seems like the front tire is busted. Conner can patch it up, he’s pretty good at this kinda stuff.”
It was Bruce’s turn to be surprised now. The boys were both now beaming at him, eager, and the desire to help written clearly on both of their faces. Even though Conner, did not look at all confident in his skills. But Bruce did need the help so he nodded.
While Conner was busy looking over the tire, Jon stayed behind to ask Bruce some questions. Some were getting pretty weird and into the dating part of his life. The boy would ask, “Are you single, sir?”
And before Bruce had the chance to answer, he’d give him another one and another one. He caught all of them of course and was getting ready to deflect. But then he saw the puppy smile and the little dimples. He wondered if the boy’s parents had this much trouble saying no to him.
He caved and answered yes to all of the questions but honestly, he never considered dating an option. He had many roles to fill and even more, secrets to keep that having a romantic partner seemed too out of reach for him to even entertain things like types or preferences.
“Would you date a divorced person with kids?” Jon asked with slight hope in his blue eyes. That was a rather odd and specific question.
What would Brucie say in this situation? What would Bruce say? Well, he had multiple kids at home so refusing someone else for having their own would be strange of him. “No, I would not mind.”
“That’s great,” came his reply.
“Um, Mr. Wayne, you wouldn’t mind if I called my Pa then? The tire needs to be replaced and he’s better than me when it comes to that part. I would also hate to accidentally mess up your car.” Conner told him and Bruce nodded once again.
A few moments later as Bruce and the boys converse in small talk, he saw a vibrant red pickup pulled up beside them and saw a god walk out. Tall and sun-kissed skin with waves of black hair and cornflower blue eyes. He was beautiful, there was nothing much to it.
“Hello there! My son called, said you needed some help with your car?”
All Bruce could do was nod and move out of the way so the man could work. He was used to feeling tongue-tied, gals he didn’t want to attend, and board meetings that could have easily been an email. But those were situations, not a singular person.
He looked up from his kneeling position-why the sun shine on him like that?- and introduced himself, “By the way, name’s Clark Kent. Let's see what we're working with here.” And then returned to his work.
Bruce nodded once again and the sounds of giggling children could be heard. They were giving their Dad encouragement.
It was much needed too, Clark looked like a fish out of water. Bruce knew how to replace the tire, he just didn't have any tools or a spare tire with him. Which was foolish of him, he knows. But he couldn't really think right now, with Clark in front of him. Plus, he didn't want to overstep Clark, maybe he had a process.
(Yes, a process that included staring at the tire and the spare he brought in his truck.)
After a very long 3 hours, Clark got the tire securely on and with no chance of falling off, as it did the last 3 times before.
Bruce cleared his throat, “Thank you, Mr. Kent.”
He flounders for a “your welcome” and then silence as they both stare at each other. “Would you like to go eat at a diner? It's rather hot so an ac and a cool drink might stop you from catching a heat stroke.”
Bruce thinks this over and nods, “Yes, that would be nice. What about your kids?”
Clark’s eyes made their way to them and before he gave an answer, Conner beat him to it.
“Oh, don't worry about us, Mr. Wayne. I got my driver’s license so I’ll drive us back home in Dad’s pickup. Let’s go, Jon.” The boy flashes his driver’s license for both men to see.
“Okay, get home safe, and re-“
“Yes, yes, we will remember to call you,” Jon says dismissively. He comes closer to give his father a hug (how cute, Bruce thinks) and whispers something.
Bruce couldn't catch what was said with Jon’s quiet voice and his head facing away. But whatever it was turned Clark into a blushing mess.
“Yes, I will. Off you go now.” Clark pushes his son into the direction of the pickup and turns to Bruce. “Shall we?”
“Yes, we shall.” Bruce says getting to the car. “I’ll pay for dinner, as a thank you. This is non-negotiable, Clark.”
He chuckles, “Okay, fine. But I get to drive then. Deal?”
“Deal.”
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Tags: @bruciemilf, @adrunkskeletonsduck, @iwantadamusername, @profoundpacmilitaire, @just-a-gal-with-a-boomerang, @mexican-owlgal, @mysteriesgalplusdamianthings, @skylions-den, @dolliesanddahlias, @insanebutteredtoast, @queerly-bel0ved, @seasonsyeetingsstuff, @truck-kunwillbeourlordandsavior, @impossoblepeacehideout, @classybananacoloregg, @iamyouraveragestudent, @home-of-sexual-and-dumb-of-ass, @odd-spooky-rainbows, @thenamessexual-homosexual, @melonfavor
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trashmakerarticle · 5 months
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Batfam as cats
Tim: Tim vs Tim (he’s fighting his intrusive thoughts)
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Dick: he found the photos that Bruce kept
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Damian: he’s cute but will bite
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Barbra: shh she’s working
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Cass: she lurking
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Steph: she says hi
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Jason: he will hurt you if you interrupt his read time again
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Duke: he did smth and you’ll never know what it is. It will be the mystery that will haunt you.
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Bruce: I’m Batman
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Part two
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adreamfromnevermore · 3 months
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Superbat AU where Superman is Lex Luthors prize weapon and Bruce is the Courts most dangerous Talon.
Somehow they find a way to get free and find each other in the process.
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wolfjackle-creates · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday
Part 1, Part 2
This is more of Ghost!Robin haunting Jason. This might not've won the poll (if you haven't voted, it's the post right after this one on my blog. But you'll have to come out in numbers to win against the Dead on Main shippers!), but it will feature in both this week's WIP Wednesday and next, so y'all better be happy.
1,100 words
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“If he’s still in the area, you should invite him,” said Dick. “Alfred’s food is to die for.” Robin was hanging upside down next to Dick nodding solemnly.
Danny tried to stop himself, he really did. He even managed to keep from saying he’d been there done that, but he couldn’t keep from laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe.
From where he was bent over trying to catch his breath, he saw Dick do some sort of spin that ended with him sitting upright on the chair. “Um… Is he all right?”
“He’s fine,” Jazz insisted. “He just thinks he’s hilarious. He had an accident when he was younger with electricity and his heart stopped. But after a few months his condition stabilized and now he’s stronger than ever.”
Through his laughs, Danny gasped, “If— If I hadn’t died… Mom and Dad… And you never, Gotham.”
Jazz turned away from him and hid her face in Jason’s neck. Danny just got himself under control when he noticed her shoulders shaking slightly.
He lost it again, Jazz following just behind.
Someone was saying “I’m confused” but someone else joined in their laughter. Danny looked up and saw it was Jason. And Robin. He liked them both already.
“Sorry, sorry,” gasped Danny once he had enough breath to do so. “Amity Parkers have a morbid sense of humor.”
“Tt, I hardly believe your heart stopping then medical intervention saving your life can count as you actually dying.” Damian had a sneer on his face and Danny already didn’t like him.
But rather than engage, he just shrugged. “It was close enough that the ghosts back home like me more’n most.” He wiped his eyes to get rid of the tears.
“I like you, kid. Great sense of humor.” Jason reached around Jazz to ruffle his hair; Danny swatted the hand away.
“Ghosts?” asked Cass.
“Yes, of course,” said Jazz. “Amity Park, the most haunted town in America.”
“Ghosts aren’t real,” argued Damian.
“Do you really need to play up the tourist gimmick even around friends?” added Tim.
“Tourist gimmick? We hate outsiders.” Danny didn’t even bother responding to the comment about ghosts not existing.
“Why do you dislike outsiders so much?” asked Bruce.
With a shrug, Jazz answered, “It’s hard to explain, but outsiders just don’t fit in in Amity.”
Danny let himself look at Robin who was sitting on the back of the couch behind Jason. “Jason might be an exception, though. Have you taken him home yet?”
“No, but I’ve been wanting to. Just… Jack and Maddie.” Jazz did take their betrayal so much harder than Danny had.
“Fair. Tell you what, give me a list of weeks you two can arrange to get off and I’ll make sure Mom and Dad are out of Amity for at least one of them.”
Jason leaned around Jazz to ask, “Why are you so sure I’d fit in in Amity?”
Obviously he couldn’t say it was because Jason was haunted and liminal, so all he said was, “Oh, you’ve got the vibes. You’ll understand it when you get there. Just… Listen to Jazz? It isn’t really safe if you try and do your own thing.”
Around them, various conversations developed and Danny let Jazz take over describing the places in Amity she wanted to show Jason. Instead, he watched Robin interact with the wider group.
The ghost kept trying to get the attention of someone, anyone, in the Wayne family. But his efforts focused on Bruce and Dick. He was clearly haunting Jason, though, and it feels like they might be sharing ectoplasm somehow.
Danny really wanted to pull out his Ecto-tracker, based off the Fenton Finder but far more sensitive and accurate. Instead, he just moved his bag closer to him.
“We can store that somewhere so you don’t have to carry it around with you,” offered Tim who must’ve seen the motion.
“Oh, that’s okay. Mr. Alfred already offered. I feel more comfortable having my bag with me.”
“What are you carrying around?” he asked.
“Bit of everything, to be honest. Laptop, PDA, chargers, first aid kit, granola bars, medicines, change of clothes, things I need for my job.”
Jason asked over Jazz’s head, “What is your job? Jazz never shares specifics, just that it keeps you too busy to visit or call very often.”
Robin was now staring at him with a grin and making amused trills. It took all of Danny’s self control to not snark at him.
“I do contract work.” It was his default answer on Earth. It was even sort-of true. If he squinted and tilted his head. Robin did not look impressed by his answer.
“I… Don’t know what that means,” admitted Jason. “What field do you work in?”
Danny waved a hand in the air. “Ancients, easier to ask what I don’t do! I build or repair things. I’m good at finding people. I help others get where they need to go. I’ve done babysitting before. I’m called in to deescalate or otherwise resolve conflicts. Basically, if someone needs assistance with something, I do it. Or I know someone who can.”
“Why do you swear by these ‘Ancients?’” asked Damian.
“It’s another ghost thing. But you don’t believe in ghosts, so I don’t know what to tell you.”
“Jazz swears by them, too,” added Jason.
Tim elbowed Damian who stood and actually pulled a knife on his brother. Not only was this kid liminal, he definitely had some ghostly instincts. “Woah, that’s enough, Damian!” ordered Dick as he positioned himself between the two.
Damian allowed Dick to take the blade, though he continued to glare at Tim. “Then tell Drake to not touch me again.”
Tim rolled his eyes and said, “Whatever,” as he moved closer to Danny and Jazz. To Danny, he asked, “So, what sort of things do you build?”
Danny decided Damian’s ghost instincts weren’t worth commenting on at the moment and just answered the question. “Oh, I can build anything.” Pulling out his PDA, he unlocked it and handed it to Tim. “My partner Tucker and I designed these. All the capabilities of a smartphone without the need for a cellular plan. Plus durable enough to survive being run over by a tank. And it gets service anywhere.”
Tim wasted no time in navigating the device’s capabilities. “What is this UI? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Tucker designed it. He’s a genius with software. I’m the hardware guy.”
Tim asked more details on the specs of the PDA which Danny happily answered. The things he built with Tucker were always his favorite inventions.
Tag list!
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Part 4
@addie-lover-of-stories, @justwannabecat, @gin2212, @amercurio, @regonold, @overtherose, @readerzj, @sjrose1216, @echoednonny, @deeterzz, @blu-lilac, @number-one-jew, @rowanaway-fromthisbs, @vythika96, @tired-yet-awaken, @themirrorghost
I think that's everyone! Let me know and I'll add you.
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bruce wayne absolutely owns this outfit in 17 different shades of black, grey, and navy. no i will not be elaborating at this time.
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hazardous-arcadia · 10 months
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An ideal (for me, at least) Bruce Wayne introduction in MAWS would go something like:
Clark, Lois, and Jimmy get sent to cover a Very Important Wayne Enterprises Gala Presentation Thing because Gotham hasn't traumatized them (yet). There's Bruce Wayne. He's the twinkiest man in the room. Just full on elegant gothic vampire vibes amped up to a hundred and nothing he says or does makes Jimmy any less convinced that Bruce isn't actually a vampire.
Somehow, the Daily Planet trio gets Bruce to agree to a short interview. But when they arrive at Stately Wayne Manor the next day, Bruce is over-caffeinated, hissing at sunlight, wearing nothing but boxers, and is face-down in a bowl of blueberries while looking like he lost a fight to the hedges out front.
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fantastic-nonsense · 4 months
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it's been like three days and I'm still thinking about the person who tried to defend Batcest by saying that in the 50s and 60s Robin was considered an adult man, Batman and Robin were "the most widely acknowledged gay icons in that time by gay men," and that DC "retconned Robin back into being a child" to demonize gay men who identified with them
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causeimanartist · 1 year
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Your drawings of Batman give me serotonin
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Thank you! I've missed drawing my favs, but long term art block has me in a choke hold
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gecemi09 · 6 months
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Most of the songs in Electra Heart are incredibly Jason Todd coded(except certain lines being abt romantic/sexual relationships, change those slightly and voila). No I won't elaborate because you know I'm right.
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melony-lemony · 2 years
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(this was supposed to be an add-on to my last reblog but it kinda got off topic.... so I made my own post)
I am (obviously) a fan of batman and have been one long before i started interacting with the fandom, and it surprised me just how detached from canon a lot of it is. I don't think that enjoying the fandom in and of itself is bad, but it irks me just how adamant people are on not interacting with any sort of canon. not because they don't enjoy it (because I get that. it's hard to get into things, and you could be a fan no matter what content or how little or how much you consume. the animated series, the comics, the live action, or the fandom), but because they think it's 'bad.' and while it definitely is sometimes, that's not all there is..... what a character completely is varies from person to person, but there is at least *some* form of solidity, things that makes that character, that character. more than just their design and their name. and a lot of times, people ignore those, or aren't even aware of it. (like how batman is a versatile character, he can fit into many different stories and genres. it does not mean that he is a blank slate, free for people to project onto and make him do wildly ooc things because "it's batman" "he's been here for 80 years" "he doesn't have a consistent character"). the flanderization is awful, and it makes me wonder why people like these character for things they are not? it's okay to have fun with headcanons, but it's gotten to the point where it isn't even that character anymore, just a fanon made up character. which is a shame because bat related characters have so much content and there's so much you could do with them but instead they are given fake depth or are flanderized... but those are still fine, I do believe that people should do whatever makes them happy. if I don't like the way they do it, then that's my own problem. I guess my issue is that they demonize canon as if they are not just as bad themselves. (centering everyone, even other family members, around their favs. putting down the others just so they put their fav up... using them as tools to get them to hurt or love their fav,,, as if they are not a fully fledged character themselves). I don't fault people for enjoying the fandom and everything it has to offer, but it can get frustrating at times. especially when they argue/speak on things they don't know anything about ... (aka, other characters. hell, sometimes even their own fav) (please give your character depth, please let other characters be their own character) (please stop latching onto other characters you really don't give a shit about just so you could make them interact with your fav)
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wings-of-angels · 2 years
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Thinking,, thinking of having a bruce wayne pfp 👁👁
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cap-noodles · 2 years
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I think Alfred the cat would logically be the first one to break something in the manor.
Like, little Dick Grayson might do a lot of acrobatics and jumps and spins instead of walks or runs but he also has incredible control over his body? I mean it with my whole heart that this little quadruple flip at 9 years old boy would not accidentally hit something and break a vase. (I'm not even a dick stan. But he IS the greatest acrobat in the world.)
Little jason? Street rat? Would 100% steal the silverwave but would also 1000% be afraid to break anything. Also I imagine he wouldn't even hang out in place with that stuff bc lil boy is too busy reading in the library.
Timmy? Raised in a house full of valuable arecheological artifacts?? Even if he does do something stupid like skateboard in the house then I don't think he'd break anything.
Damain and Cassandra Child Assassins perfect body control. They're not breaking shit.
Steph... probably wouldn't be allowed into the actual manor until after her death I think. But even before that she's not breaking anything because she has excellent body control, situational awareness And would be very careful.
Duke beloved has also pretty good situational awareness, body control, and is also afraid of breaking stuff, so would be very careful. Also future vision????
So none of the kids living there would break anything. But a cat? A Cat? A being Designed to push stuff off of surfaces? I just think it would be very funny if damian found alfred the cat doing this and being >:O and goes to his siblings for advice only to find them utterly useless smh. Eventually alfred the person finds out and confides in damian that ever since young master dick did a backflip too close for comfort to a ming dynasty vase all those years ago, he has replaced all the valuables with replicas.
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begaycommittreason · 1 month
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out of context things heard in wayne manor:
bruce: i understand, but pretending you cooked jerry the turkey is not a proportionate response to damian calling you a peasant again
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jason: look there’s a right way and a wrong way to make food. there’s also the bruce way, which is the wrong way except faster and worse
duke: *frantically scribbling notes*
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tim: do you think our relationship was kinda like incest now?
steph, horrified: never open your mouth in my presence again timothy
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dick: so then he’s like—guys. guys are you seriously signing about me in front of my face. i learned it too—hey i do NOT have a butt chin take that back—
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damian: i don’t understand, why does he wear such a ridiculous hat? is it like that margaret poppins woman grayson showed me?
tim, who watched the live action cat in the hat too much as a kid and is about to violently infodump: well you see-
dick: oh god it’s too late
jason: yeah the brats on his own for this one i’m not fucking dealing with that again
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bruce: are you lying?
tim: always. anyway, like i was saying—
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steph: hey what’s up with you and all the redheads
dick: …i’m not discussing this with you
steph, starting to chase him: gingervitus is a serious affliction! you cant run from this
dick, sprinting away: yes the fuck i can
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duke: so is anyone gonna talk about the elephant in the room…
dick:
dick: look i was feeling sentimental and zitka jr. really isn’t any trouble
damian: she is magnificent
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tim: so i dropped out and
duke: wait we can drop out of high school??!!?
bruce: NO.
duke: please bruce ap biology is beating my ass right now
jason: nah tim just got to drop cause bruce was dead and he’s a loser. the real problem is what you’re reading in ap lit right now, because i have thoughts on that curriculum—
duke: i’m not even gonna use half that material in the real world
tim: actually most of our villains have PhDs so their plans are based on pretty real science
duke: not helping timothy
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cass, signing: why are brothers on the ceiling?
jason: tims in timeout from working on his caseload
cass, still confused: yes but why taped to the ceiling
duke: listen if you know a better way of restraining his psycho ass then i’m all ears
cass: and damian?
jason: oh he saw this as free range target practice so he had to go up there too
cass: they are plotting revenge up there
duke: think of it as brotherly bonding
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damian: it’s not my fault he got in the way
bruce: you threw an eclair at lex luthor
damian: i was aiming for drake
tim: bruce we can’t take him anywhere
dick, holding back laughter: timmy you paid four separate people to come to the gala solely to ask lex if they could use his head to see if they had something in their teeth
tim: you have no proof that was me
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duke: look steph, it’s not that we don’t want to help with this
jason: i don’t want to help
duke: it’s more that i don’t think we can physically fit that many people in a shopping cart, and your whole plan kind of hinges on that
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alfred: i’m not mad, just disappointed in you.
every batkid, near tears: sorry alfred
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jason: HE HAD DIPLOMATIC IMMUNITY AS THE FUCKING WHAT—
bruce: listen—
tim, mouth full and brain empty: the ambassador to iran. crazy right?
dick: tim please
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mostly-imagines · 27 days
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)
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Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out.” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”
Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s gotta work.” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”
“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think.” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
“Watch your mouth.” Jason mumbles.
“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”
It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.
The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
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luxaofhesperides · 2 months
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless. 
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We��re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 
He won’t let anyone take it from him. 
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 
Bruce reaches a hand out. 
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 
The orb in his hand moves. 
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark. 
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 
If anyone can, it’s Batman. 
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
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too-much-tma-stuff · 3 months
Text
Finally getting help (pt 2)
This one actually is edited thanks to @basementqueercock! Thank you friend!
part 1 | Masterpost
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Vlad had been making a stink at the Gala about the Wayne brats taking his godson from him without his permission when the music suddenly cut out. Bruce Wayne himself stalked towards Vlad with an expression that was honestly a little intimidating, even if Vlad obviously wasn’t scared of such an empty headed pretty boy even if he was one of the richest and most influential people on the planet. He was Plasmius! He could take a rich pretty boy is he had to!
“Ah! Mr. Wayne, thank goodness! Your children have taken my Godson off somewhere! I’m sure it’s just a harmless prank but he’s a bit fragile and unpredictable so I really think that it would be best if-“
“Is he fragile and unpredictable because he’s pregnant and you knew?” Bruce asked low and dangerous. Silence spread out around them, even though there’s no way they could have heard they saw the look on Brucie’s face. He rarely got angry but when he did it was serious, when he did it usually meant someone had hurt a kid.
Vlad blanched for a moment, Danny had been so tight lipped about it, so unwilling to tell even those he trusted how did These people know?! “What? What on earth are you talking about? Of course he’s not pregnant, I mean he’s a boy!” Vlad huffed and Bruce’s jaw tightened even more somehow.
“He’s not leaving with you. Get out.” He said low and menacing, then raised his voice. “Sorry to cut the party short everyone but something has come up, a situation that really needs my attention so I’m going to have to put an end to the party early.”
“What do you mean!? He’s MY God son! MY heir! You can’t just keep him from me!” Vlad said, he knew that his eyes were starting to glow a little red but he couldn’t help it. “He’s MINE! Return him to me or you will regret it I swear!”
“See him out.” Bruce said dismissively to a handful of guards who had approached at the start of the commotion A lot of the socialites were already starting to see themselves out, now was not the time to argue, or even stick around when it looked like this might get physical.
“I will be back! I will be back with lawyers and police and the brat’s parents,” Vlad vowed but couldn’t risk fighting the guards any more than a usual old man would on the way out with so many eyes on him. Well he just needed to find a place alone. Then he could transform and come back, possess Bruce Wayne and make him do something heinous in public to ruin him for this.. this- this INDIGNITY!
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Bruce was having a hard time keeping his Batman expressions off his face as he saw that everyone was out of his house and he knew his children were having the same trouble. Dick looked like he was ready to bash someone’s head in and Steph wasn’t that much better. Damian was standing by the door, seeing everyone out with frosty politeness that no one would mistake as genuine. Bruce felt just a little bad, it wasn’t anyone’s fault what they had found tonight. No one else knew about the clearly abused teen they were currently harbouring, but none of the family could help it either. Bruce would send all the guests gift baskets once they could announce what was going on.
Alfred was on the phone with Bruce’s lawyers, sending them the mildly distorted audio from Danny’s earlier conversation with Cas and Dick, and the footage from Vlad Master’s outburst. That had the same sort of distortion over it too which was odd, he’d have to look into it. Cas had already informed him she thought Danny was a meta of some sort, maybe it was connected to that? Or maybe they were aliens? Though Danny being trans was currently the most plausible explanation for his pregnancy. They’d find out more later. What mattered was the footage of both of those would be enough for Bruce to get emergency custody while the family was investigated. 
Tim was with Danny in the room Alfred had fixed for him, helping him settle in and lending him some clothes. Tim was the closest to Danny’s age and also one of the calmer ones right now so he was in charge of trying to make Danny feel safe and comfortable while the family took up battle stations to deal with the legal and logistical elements of this.
Bruce made sure everyone was out, the perimeter was secure, and Oracle was at her computer watching the security feed for anything suspicious including the pattern of distortion Vlad and Danny seemed to emit. He wasn’t sure how paranoid he should be about all this, but he’d seen the way Vlad’s eyes sparked red when he was angry and Batman was sure he was a lot more dangerous then he first seemed. And not just in the way that he was apparently willing to impregnate a boy young enough to be his son.
Finally he couldn’t avoid going to check on Danny anymore. Not that he was Really avoiding it, just that he knew this was going to be an exhausting and difficult conversation and he needed to brace himself for it. With every step towards Danny’s new room he felt the weight gather on his shoulders of what this child must have been through.
He knocked, and let himself in. Immediately clocking the way Danny tensed at the sight of him. Of course a rich older man would set off his alarm bells. Bruce gave the softest smile he could and went to pull out the desk chair across from the bed Danny was sitting on, well out of arms reach so he wouldn’t seem like a threat as he sat down. He glanced at Tim who nodded and went and sat on the bed next to Danny. Solidarity, willing to stand up against Bruce if Danny needed it, safety.
“Hello Danny, it’s nice to meet you. My children told me a bit about.. your situation,” Bruce said with a small grimace. “Would you mind if I ask you some questions? I promise I won’t judge you whatever you say, and I promise I am on your side. No matter what I will try to keep you safe okay? Just tell me the truth, it’ll help me do what needs to be done.”
“Alright Mr. Wayne,” Danny said, though he was still wary.
“Thank you, please call me Bruce. So first, what’s your full name?” he asked deciding to start super easy.
“Daniel James Fenton,” Danny replied softly.
“Your parents names?”
“Doctors Madeline and Jack Fenton,” Huh the fact that he called his parents doctor like it was part of their name seemed to be significant though Bruce wasn’t sure exactly what it meant.
“How old are you?”
“I’m 16,” He said. A little older than he looked but still no where near old enough to have the weight of the world on his shoulders like he did.
“And you’re pregnant?” Bruce asked as gently as he could, Danny nodded. “And you’re sure?”
“Yes,” Danny said softly and Bruce nodded, licking his lips a little.
“Did you take a test then?” He asked and Danny grimaced making a so so motion.
“It’s not… that simple,” He said softly.
“Can you explain it to me please?” Bruce asked softly.
Danny took a deep breath and licked his lips, hesitating, opening his mouth to stat, hesitating again and biting his lip. Bruce stayed quiet as he watched the conflict on Danny’s face. “You work with the justice league right?” Danny asked suddenly which seemed like a bit of a non sequitur to Bruce but he needed. “A bunch of the members aren’t human right?” Ah, Bruce nodded again. “And you’re okay with that?”
“Of course I am Danny,” Bruce promised, soft and reassuring. “People don’t have to be human or from earth to be people. Whatever is going on with you you’re still a person, and a kid, and deserve to be protected.”
“Okay,” Danny said as he scrutinized Bruce’s body language for any sign that he was lying. “Okay. I’ve never been able to trust any adults with this shit but I can’t keep doing this on my own so okay. I’m not human, not fully anyway, not anymore. These are..” He touched his stomach. “Like if you did an ultrasound you wouldn’t see embryos more like… Hang on Here.”
Bruce blinked as Danny suddenly, reached Inside himself, and before he could panic Danny had pulled out a perfectly round object that filled his palm. It shimmered with light from within, cold and sparkling with stars. “Our kind is more energy and light then anything else. This is Us, the mind, heart, everything we are is stored in our core the rest is formed around that. I mean for most of my kind, I’m still half human.” Danny said before replacing the orb inside him. “I have two other little cores inside me right now, feeding on my energy to develop properly, you could see them on an Xray. I don’t know how long they’ll take honestly.” He sighed caressing his stomach again.
 “But I can feel them inside me, I can feel their worry when I’m scared, and their joy when I’m happy, and their love. They’re my babies.” He said with the softest most paternal smile on his lips. The bags under his eyes were awful, he was clearly exhausted and stressed, but his expression told Bruce Danny thought it was all going to be worth it for his children. It brought a lump to his throat he had to clear before he could speak again.
“Okay, do you have access to healthcare appropriate for your.. species?” He asked and Danny nodded. Though he was tight lipped still.
“There are protections for non-human species in America you know,” Tim said.
Bruce and Tim exchanged a confused look as Danny barked a laugh. “Not for MY kind, we were specifically excluded,” He said with a wry curl to his lips. “The shadow or echo left behind when a proper human dies, not sentient or sapient they say. Malicious and dangerous they say. To be captured or exterminated on sight. They would take me, experiment on me, probably put my babies in jars or something.”
Oh, oh fuck, he was shaking, eyes blank and glassy like he was heading towards a panic attack. “Danny! Danny look at me,” Bruce said as he leaned forward and Danny’s gaze flicked up to his face. “I don’t know who ‘they’ are but I promise I will do everything in my power to make sure they don’t get you. You’re clearly not what they say, and anyone who would hurt a child is not the good guy in this story.”
“Who are they?” Tim asked with an expression that promised swift and vicious retribution.
Danny took another deep breath. “The GIW, the Ghost Investigation Ward. They’re a government agency, they’ve been hunting in my hometown for a while. Early on we tried to call the Justice Legue, but I think they were jamming the lines or something,” Danny said looking down and biting his lip.
Fuck this poor kid really couldn’t catch a break! Bruce was sure that the ‘ghosts’ these idiots were hunting weren’t really anything of the sort, but he would look into this and see what he could find. Tim was clearly itching to as well bad he wasn’t willing to leave Danny alone with Bruce, good lad.
“And what about your parents? Do you think you could be safely returned to their home?” Bruce asked, as much as he wanted to keep Danny reunification was supposed to be the goal of fostering.
“No!” Danny nearly yelped sitting up straight. “No! They work for the GIW! They design most of their weapons. If they ever found I’d been contaminated- I don’t want to think the worst of them but even if they still recognized me as their son the babies-“ He cut off, wrapping both his arms around his stomach and curling in on himself.
“Okay, we’ll call child protective services, my lawyer, and the Justice League. We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Bruce promised Danny. “And you can stay here as long as you need to. Is there any other family you would want to go to?” Bruce asked, just to be sure, but he wasn’t surprised when Danny shook his head and grabbed a pillow to hug.
“And I know Oracle and Red Robin will be itching to find out more about this ‘government agency’,” Tim said. “I want to go tell them Danny, if Bruce and I go will you be okay on your own or do you want me to ask Cas to come stay with you?”
“Cas please? If she’s not busy?” Danny asked uncertainly and Tim nodded. Bruce was getting up before Danny spoke up again. “I have a sister, Jazz. She knows about me not being fully human, but not about the babies. She’s a good person, and she’s almost an adult. I don’t know, I just need you to know she’s good, and I don’t want to mess things up for her,” Danny said worriedly.
“Of course Danny, thanks for letting me know,” Bruce said with a smile already making plans to get her out as well. “We’ll let you know as soon as there are developments.” He promised before both he and Tim ducked out. They split up, Tim going to find Cas and ask her to go back to Danny before they reconvened in the bat cave, they had a lot of research to do.
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