Bruce Wayne, drunk and full on Brucie mood in the middle of a gala: You know, that accent doesn’t really fit in around here. It’s cute. Where are you from?
Clark, internally debating every life choice that led him to this moment: I’m from Smallville. Kansas.
Bruce, leaning closer to Clark with a flirty smile: Oh you’re cute and funny. You know, I like that in a man.
Clark, very confused but trying to just go along with it: Thank you??
Bruce: I mean, everyone knows that Kansas isn’t real but I do always enjoy a good laugh.
Clark: What.
Bruce: What? Everyone knows that Kansas was made up for Wizard of Oz.
Clark, unsure if Bruce is fucking with him or if he’s just really deep into this dumb act: Bruce, Kansas is a real place. It’s one of the 50 states that make up America.
Bruce, tilting his head a little confused: There’s 50 states? Since when?
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You may regret this @phoenixcatch7 lol, what if I start spamming you /j
Less cryptid Batman in this particular WIP since it's semi-outsider pov lol (one of two outside person not unnerved by them lol)
🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇👻🪆🦇
Clark knew Batman wasn’t human, even before that disaster of a mission where he had let it slip to the others.
He’d known for a long time, from one of their early meetups, when Batman had first referred to him as Clark Kent instead of Kal-El, and he had panicked. He hadn’t ever lied to his teammates when he said that the cloak prevented him from seeing his body, but his ears still worked.
He’d tried to listen to a heartbeat, to see if his at the time temporary ally was lying when he stated he wasn’t going to tell anyone and… Nothing. There was no heartbeat, no breathing, nothing even remotely human, and if he didn’t know any better, nothing even remotely alive about the silence.
He couldn’t help but to pay attention more, to seek out the strange almost silence-feeling that accompanied the Gotham vigilante each time he felt it. It was… almost comforting, like the swaying of branches and the rustling of cloth over stone. Familiar, compared to the hustle and bustle surrounding him in the city.
The first thing he had noticed, physically that is, was Batman’s ears. Previously he’d thought the man unemotional, what with the rough voice, expressionless white eyes, cloak-covered body and the gas mask covering a good chunk of his face.
Yet the longer he watched, even idly, the more he noticed that while the man’s face or body didn’t show much, his ears did.
While Batman could stay silent and still for hours, the long ears twitched and swiveled, catching on the hood that he’d always wear around them. They’d pin back sometimes, a near silent sound he couldn’t quite place accompanying the movement, while other times they’d twist a near full three-sixty, as though searching for whatever sound it had caught.
Sometimes, when he’d startled the other vigilante, there’d be rattling noise, like wood and metal clacking together before it was cut off. It was a strange sound, one he’d not heard anywhere else, except with his… friend.
Were they friends? He’d like to think so.
The next time he was reminded that his friend wasn’t human was when he saw him get injured. It hadn’t been a bad injury, even if the Gothamite’s head had hit the wall with a very loud cracking noise, but he’d still smelled what he’d eventually come to recognize as blood. There was an almost pickle-like scent to it though that wasn’t quite it either.
Honestly the closest he could think of describing it was some sort of formaldehyde. And once he focused, he could pick out other things beneath it. Maybe not flesh and blood in the traditional sense, but still.
There was always that scent of cloth and wood, but he could smell the black liquid, paint, a metallic thing underneath like iron and steel. No heartbeat, no breath, but life all the same. It was honestly beautiful in a way, like a part of the city the other vigilante called home had come to life.
And it wasn’t like Batman minded whenever his own human mask slipped. Clark may have been raised by his Ma and Pa, whom he loved, but it didn’t make his body any more human in nature. There were just some things that he couldn’t change, and it took effort to move like one all day as a civilian when his body wasn’t designed to do so.
So he stayed quiet for the most part when their group of three grew, and people started to speculate. He diverted the conversations whenever it turned to him, lightly admonishing over the various rumors.
It didn’t matter if Batman wasn’t human, he was still his friend, their ally and teammate. Was he curious? Oh of course, he’d gone into journalism for a reason after all, but it was still his friend. If he wanted to tell, he’d tell, and Clark wouldn’t break his trust.
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While the Thomas's are still in their at home recovery phase, Elaine takes to keeping the news on so she can keep an eye on Duke while he is on Signal duty.
She doesn't like it of course, she winces at bad hits, remembering her own training as a young woman. But she fears not knowing what happens to her son more than she fears a little worry. He's strong, she knows that, and she trusts him.
She's glad for this one day.
For Duke it had been a long week, a long life if he was being honest. The "what ifs" had kept him up most nights and made whatever sleep he had gotten functionally useless. Not to mention how he helped out Tim with something around 11 and that nearly every fucking meta in Gotham had it out for him today.
A dozen fights in and someone finally knocks him in a way that Duke is wondering how he's going to get up from this one.
His powers are screaming, his body is screaming, hell, he might be screaming. Around the ringing in his ears it doesn't really make much of a difference.
Someone (or something) is coming at him and Fast, Izzy in his ear is telling him Hood's position, she already called for aid ten minutes ago (he loves her so much, has he mentioned that recently?).
A shadowy figure steps in front of him.
At first he thinks it might be Bruce, but then Izzy would have warned him, and Bruce had never looked so oily and smoky before. Duke concludes that maybe this is someone else coming to finish him off.
Great, wonderful, he thinks as his muscles tense to shadow step.
Duke is soon proven delightfully wrong.
The big guy who was, not a second ago, rushing him to squish his tender flesh, is struggling, making nearly animalistic sounds as the oil slick clouds from the shadow guy in front of him shoot out to grab the big guy.
There's a poof, not unlike his own shadow stepping, and then the big guy is fucking gone.
Shadow guy turns to look at him, big glowing purple eyes shine at him through the darkness. Duke is struck dumb for a moment.
"Mom?" he whispers.
The Red Hood steps onto the scene just in time. He wasn't far, less than half a mile away, putting the finishing touches on his taxes for the year. (He may be running a criminal enterprise but let it be know that he does pay his fucking taxes, Tim.)
He rushes over, training a .44 on the remaining non-bat on the field. The smog creature turns to look at him, and pointedly at the gun. Somehow he feels more chastised in a way that nothing B could do or say could ever achieve.
And then it's gone.
Jason jogs over, offering a hand to his (co-worker? co-sufferer of B's shit? 'lil bat bro' [Jason rolls his eyes at internal Dick]) Duke.
Duke grabs it, weakly (ohhhh someone's gonna get Bennchhedddd).
"What the fuck man," Jason can't help but say. "Does the hat-man owe you money?"
Duke laughs, and he looks more alive than he did a second before. (Jason is going to get a good grade in mentor, something both normal to want and possible to achieve.)
They both hear Izzy's audible relief on the line.
"Yeah he fucking does," Duke jokes back.
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*Spoiler alert*
I was not impressed after reading Nightwing #95, but my mood changed so damn quick after reading World's Finest #6. I forgot what it felt like to be excited for a Dick issue, and after reading that, I'm crying happy tears 😭.
He was so competent! He showed compassion for the animals! He did detective work! He left Bruce and the others a hidden message! He got to fly with Bruce! He took the lead and gave Bruce orders! He figured out the masterful plan! And to top it off, he was drawn by Travis Moore!
I'm so happy 😭.
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I was gonna talk about how Bruces outfit + hair + makeup makes me insane but why did he look at Jeromes lips, for what, why
bonus Bruce because he does look fucking great actually
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