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#doctor who is like haha I'm a family show kids love me only to proceed releasing some of most horrifying heart-wrenching stuff imaginable
pokimoko · 2 years
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Me, circa May 2008: "Oh boy, I can't wait to start watching Doctor Who with my dad every week. Last week's episode with the big bee wasp thingy and the murder mystery was so much fun. I'm sure the rest of the episodes will be just like that. Just something goofy and lighthearted and perfect for a young child such as myself."
Me, three weeks later: *shaking fearfully* "I...I don't think I want to watch this anymore."
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graaaaceeliz · 5 years
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BruceBat and Clark-man
I put up (finally) a second chapter of my fic where Bruce and Clark have made a Thing out of their resemblances to Batman and Superman. I'm linking chapter one, but it isn't entirely necessary to read it to understand the principle behind chapter two.
Chapter Two: Where have all the good men gone? (<1500 words)
Days like this were the best, thought Bruce. He’d never admit to that aloud, nobody wants to tempt the fates, but it was true. His children filled the home with noise and joy (and arguments and temper, but who was he to complain?) and Alfred’s eyes glimmered with theirs, whilst Bruce laughed more than he had since he was a troubled teenager with an adrenaline issue and the absolute chaos of Tony and Lex as his brothers. The rift between Lex and Clark saddened him, because they should have all been together, united against threats to Earth. They had plenty of those. But he was a united front with LexCorp most of the time, and people knew that Batman and Superman had as close a shield-bond as had existed. The Bats themselves were a clan, a colony, symbols of the end for evil and of hope for good. He couldn’t have ever dreamed this.
Clark nudged his shoulder into his. “Good day, huh? And I am coming with you to the dance tonight. I don’t want to go home just yet,” he trailed off slightly as his eyes glazed over. “B, I will be right back.” Bruce sighed. He truly sympathised with families linked to the emergency services. Alfred’s friend had called from England last night, and they’d sat around the kitchen table with the phone on loudspeaker as she talked about the mountains and the sea and the surprisingly good winter, which had led onto the topic of emergency responses and various light tales of their exploits. Bruce had missed her, actually, because she’d been around a lot when he was a kid (hardly any older than Tony, she’d introduced him as her baby brother in New York a few times in clubs) but he had only seen her three times since he became Batman. Jason’s funeral, when he came back to life, and seven months ago when she finally got out of MI-whatever. He didn’t know. Wasn’t sure he wanted to – she was quite possibly an assassin.
A sudden swish of the air to his left indicated Clark’s return. He seemed a bit flustered, collar crumpled and hair tossed by the impossible speeds he achieved when it was necessary. Bruce turned to him, wondering vaguely what that had been about. He hadn’t been gone long enough to have saved the planet, barely long enough to save a kitten. Bruce was well aware of how long it could take to save a world. It usually involved violence, subterfuge, and injuries. And payouts. And payoffs. Besides the point. Clark gradually quietened under Bruce’s steady patient gaze, as everyone eventually did. It was so human, for Clark to be soothed by his trusted brother, for Bruce to feel the urge to punch whatever upset Clark so. They were neither of them human as most imagined them to be. Grudges could be held for eternity.
“I went to a group of firefighters. There was a big fire a couple of days ago, remember I told you about it? The one in Boston that they told to me leave to them and go save those boys in the cave in Madagascar. That one. Well, they called for me, because they wanted to show me the exhibition they made. It’s about us, Bruce. The League, other known heroes, the Avengers too. And ordinary people. Doctors, nurses, grandparents, big sisters, teachers. Local heroes. And – Bruce, the exhibition is as large as the one we’re going to tonight at the Gallery. Heroes. Ordinary, brilliant humans, who save people.”
Bruce grunted into the warm evening light, keeping a close eye on the wrestling match between Damian and Tim that was getting dangerously close to his prize roses. He looked out to the pale blue sky, “You cried.”
“....Yeah. I couldn’t help it.”
“Quick back.”
Clark smiled slightly. “I want to show you,” he murmured, “it’s so full of wonderful people.”
Bruce quirked a smile. That would be good. Perhaps he should suggest that as the next exhibit in the Gallery or maybe the Precinct – local heroes. Hopefully it would boost the city’s morale without the necessity of drugs or alcohol. He’d make sure Jim got recognised. But going with Clark to this special one also sounded good. “Tomorrow.”
Clark smiled.
*~°~*~°~*
“Mr Wayne! Over here! Is this your friend? A reporter! Oh my!”
Hello, I’m Clark. A smile as innocent as a child’s. Hello Clark. I’m Bruce.
“Hello, Pietr. Bruce and I would like to talk to the curator of the museum, so we’ll have to talk at a later date.”
Sorry, but Superman and I have things to do, Señor Domingo. Adiós. What kind of a name is Lord Sunday? A stupid one.
“Well handled, Clark.”
“Eh. I hate the act you put on, so I’m trying to avoid it. Is that the curator?”
“Hm.”
Clark, that’s him, isn’t it? Yeah. Oh good, we can all go home soon. Shut up, I’m sarcastic all the time. A Hm can be sarcastic.
“Excuse me, Mr Hammerstein! Excuse me, ma’am, sir, excuse us, thanks. Mr Hammerstein, Mr Wayne and I- oh for goodness’ sake. Bruce! Come on, I need to interview some visiting rich folk and if you take all night I won’t get it done. Thank you. Anyways, Mr Hammerstein, we have an exhibit idea...”
*~°~*~°~*
“Please, call me Brucie.”
“Okay, Brucie. Now, we all saw the last time you pretended to be Batman. Tonight I heard that you have a friend who looks like Superman – oh, the crowd are excited tonight!”
“Haha, it seems so. Clark and myself do bear a resemblance to the famous heroes, yes. It gets pointed out to us periodically.”
We’re supposed to be undercover! We’re in our suits! What, so we pretend to be Brucie and Clark in our actual suits in an attempt to infiltrate Lex’s party?? That’s insane, Clark, absolutely insane. What – well, yeah, it might work... Lex won’t call us out on it, no.
“I have heard that at one of Lex Luthor’s famed Metropolis Galas you did an act?”
“Well, not an act, no. I had had rather a lot to drink, shall we say, but I was dressed up as Batman.”
“And yourself, Mr Kent is it? Yes – you make a strikingly good Superman. I’ve heard that you’re known in your office at Perry White’s Metropolis ‘paper for your impressions. Any chance the pair of you would do an act for us tonight?”
We have to go along with it just pretend, Clark, call it an act and just pretend like I do with Brucie, won’t be easy but you have to try Clark we have to try
“I’m afraid Brucie and I would rather not. However, we would like to talk some about our new venture, the Gotham branch of which is named: Where have all the good men gone? As you may recognise, we’ve taken the name from Bonnie Tyler’s song I Need a Hero. We’re aiming to put together an exhibition here in Gotham about our unrecognised street-level heroes. My nomination is the guy who does late night door duties on the hotel building I have often stayed at not far from here. He prevents people accessing the tower when they don’t have appropriate ID, opens the foyer to those waiting for taxis home, and has interrupted no less than five incidents in the last six months at the cost of his health. So here’s to you, doorman.”
There will always be hope as long as one man or child or woman is willing to stand up painpainpain and say no there will always be hope and that’s why I do this I am bringing hope despite blood and I refuse to give up and you are hope you embody it we are hope so don’t give up ignore the pain we get up it hurts so much but we get up
“My personal nominee is Jim Gordon. He’s always been supportive of my family and myself, has dedicated his life to cleaning up the police force and has really given hope to the youth of Gotham. The nomination process will be described in an interview tomorrow night, which will also be published in local papers. We would love for you all to nominate an unrecognised person who you see as a hero. Of course, our costumed vigilantes each get a photo in the exhibit, so there’s no need to nominate them unless you have a particular inspiring story.”
“All proceeds will go to soup kitchens and hostels, to help people get off the streets. Next month we hope to launch the Metropolis branch of the campaign, named in honour of our own superhero: Where are all the gods? It will run off exactly the same principle, with people nominating personal heroes. The Waynes and myself hope to establish skills centres in both of our cities to help people get off the streets and into jobs, and to teach transferable skills to as many people as possible. But please, please partake in this I Need a Hero campaign. The more we raise, the more people we can help.”
“Certainly the most admirable project I have had the joy of hearing about in several years. Well, folks, remember what these two have said to us tonight. Thank you both for agreeing to this conversation.”
“It’s been a real pleasure.”
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