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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 198

Now Bruce was not expecting to reincarnate upon his death. At least he thinks he died, he’s pretty sure he did. There wasn’t any other reason for him to be a well, literal baby. Around two he thinks, which fits well with the fact that it’s around that time that babies start forming memory recall, if he, well, remembered correctly.

But while he knew about reincarnation thanks to Shayera and Carter, he’d never exactly given it much thought towards himself. Because seriously, what were the chances of such a thing as him being given another chance?

So he was quite surprised at his situation, experimentally opening and closing pudgy hands that looked well, just a tiny bit off. He’d never been that pale before, he thinks, even back when he never went outside like, ever.

He turned his gaze towards the mobile above him with a sort of idle curiosity- a mixture of bats (ha) and other trinkets he wasn’t familiar with. It also caused him to get his first good look at his parent, asleep on a rocking chair right next to the crib.

Huh. They had the same pale skin he did, albeit in the light it looked like it was slightly tinted blue, and while their hair was white they didn’t exactly look old. They looked surprisingly well rested for raising a toddler too, unless they had a nanny or something similar… He rolled over, managing to very shakily push himself to his feet with the help of the crib.

Why was standing so hard as a toddler? And why did he have his memories of everything except how he had died anyway?

His head whipped up from where they were staring at his feet when he heard a snort, finding his parent awake and standing. Somehow silently enough that he hadn’t noticed- or he was that easily distracted by the unfamiliar giddiness bursting in his chest.

“Morning little bat,” his parent easily picked him up and held him while he inwardly sighed at the nickname. Of course his bat motif would follow him into this life. A low rumbling almost caused him to jump, his body relaxing before he could fully register the sound. The… purring?

Oh.

He wasn’t human this time around.

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Vlad is a young-adult dad to a reincarnated Bruce #After the hospital he drowned his despair/distress in any way he could & ended up with a baby boy #Bruce’s main suspected species of what they were was vampire before the ghost reveal lol #Bruce can’t say shit about Vlad’s thievery but he has the most judging expression for a toddler #Then he also sees his new dad develop and try to figure out powers #Vlad was terrified to pick him up when he first discovered his ghost fire #Yes this very much changes Vlad’s relationship with Danny #The reunion has 14 year old Danny meet a Very Smart 8 year old Bruce #Yes Bruce clocks teenage vigilante instantly #And look he Would try to get Vlad to stop the possession shit but as long as it’s actual assholes he can’t exactly judge #He blackmailed SO many people in his past life… he's trying Not to be a hypocrite here #Why yes Bruce IS very liminal from having a half-ghost dad #Vlad panicked more than he did when his fangs came in (Bruce has made a file about both himself & everyone he meets)#Just because he’s now baby doesn’t mean he’s no longer Bruce #At some point someone from his world might find their way to this one but that would be a very long time in the future lol #Vlad (unaware of his core being able to feel his ghostling’s big emotions): Wow raising a child is surprisingly easy

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phantom-0-writer · 7 months

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I actually thought of this prompt like forever ago and i rly wanted to write a whole story for it but i couldn't think of a plot that would stick to it and make sense without adding too many outside elements and in my opinion over saturating the story. BUT i do have a bunch of scenes of danny and damian in my head about this also also some danny and other batfam members.

So anyways your order has been delivered...

original prompt: Gotham Academy's Mentorship Program

scene two: tim's arch nemesis

table of contents

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scene 01: damian's not-so-very-bad day

“Father, you wanted to speak with me.” Damian said, trugging into his Father’s study late into the afternoon per Pennyworth’s behest.

Father looked up from his work at Damian’s arrival, Drake gave him a look of annoyance that Damian returned with a sneer. “Damian.” Father greeted as he reached Father’s work station. “I spoke with your principal earlier today.” Damian huffed and crossed his arms in defiance at whatever accusation he was about to be handed, “Put your frown away, you're not in trouble.” Father chuckled lightly.

Damian frowned. He was not a child, he did not need to be treated like one.

“There’s a mentorship program at your school.” Father started, Damian raised an intrigued brow at him.

Perhaps Father had succeeded in seeing his potential, “Well I suppose I wouldn’t mind mentoring one of the many underlings at the so-called academy.” Damian sighed, letting his arms fall to his side, as he looked up at his Father.

Father blinked at him, processing what he had said, then glanced at Drake who looked like a fraying rope length away from bursting into laughter. “The mentorship program… it’s for you.” Father tried hesitantly.

“Yes.” Damian nodded in understanding.

There was an uncomfortable silence from Father.

“He means that you're the one getting mentored.” Drake laughed at him, shoulders shaking.

Damian turned to Father. But the denial never came. “What!” Damian couldn’t help scream in outrage. “You want me to get mentored by some hillbilly civilian who can't tell a katana from a wakizashi?” He slammed his hands on Father’s table.

Father looked at him with disapproval, but said nothing, not caring enough to discipline Damian.

“Hillbilly civilian.” Drake croaked from the corner of the room, draping himself dramatically over one of the side sofas.

“You’re to meet him first thing tomorrow when you get to school. Here’s his student profile, if you're interested.” Father handed him a singular paper.

“Father I do not need-”

“It’s already been arranged Damian, atleast give it a try.” Father said with a sigh, picking up his files again in a silent dismissal of Damian.

The paper crumpled slightly as Damian stormed to his room.

Daniel James Fenton.

“Let’s see how long you last.” Damian eyed the picture of the smiling teen.

---

“Have a good day at school Masters Tim, Thomas, and Damian.” Pennyworth bid, as they all got out of the car.

“Later, Alfred.” Thomas waved at the butler as he drove off.

They all walked in the same direction to enter their classrooms, when Drake stopped him in his path. “Ohoho, and where do you think you’re going Damian?” he asked cheekily.

“Tsk.” He was hoping to be able to make it to his class before the others noticed, then continue to evade the principal and other faculty if need be required. To be foiled so early into his plan, furthermore by Drake, was humiliating.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in the principal’s office?” Drake continued to smother his victory over Damian.

“I was just on my way.” He huffed, turning around annoyed. Drake and Thomas snickered as he retreated.

Damian knocked on the familiar oak doors. “Come in.” Mr. Carson called from the other side. Damian entered, and plopped down on the same chair he sat in every time he had been sent here. “Ah Damian. Goodmorning.” He waited for a reply, but when he realized he wouldn’t be getting one he continued on, “Mr. Fenton should be here any minute, but I’m glad you were able to come here on your own accord.” Mr. Carson talked as he hung up his jacket and took a seat at his chair.

Damian could only watch the seconds tick by as he sat in that office. He wondered absentmindedly if Fenton didn’t show up would he be free. The knock at the door decimated all hopes Damian had for that.

“Ah, that must be Mr. Fenton.” Mr. Carson mused out loud, “Come in.”

Fenton entered the room hesitantly, greeting Mr. Carson with a small smile. Fenton was a scholarship student and held reasonable grades so his intellect was not to be underestimated, though often simply being able to score well on tests did not translate to having adequate life skills. Fenton was taller than Drake, but still average, dark hair, tanned skin, gray-blue eyes. When Damian’s supposed mentor looked at Damian for the first time since he had entered the room, Damian couldn’t help but feel like he was caught in a stare off with a beast.

The way Fenton examined his surroundings reminded Damian of the League of Assassins. Careful, analytical and tactical. All things Damian had excelled in. But there was something different about Fenton than what Damian had often seen in the League. His eyes were softer than those that had trained Damian. Damian couldn’t understand why his eyes looked like that.

Fenton smiled at him in a way that was likely meant to be kind, “Hi, you must be Damian. I’m Danny.” He stuck out his hand for Damian to shake.

Damian did not take the hand, instead he turned to principal Carson, “When can I leave?” He asked board, subtly eying Fenton’s reaction in his peripheral vision.

“We have to iron out the finer details and the both of you will be free to go until we see each other for our weekly check in every Friday.” Principal Carson started, “Mr. Fenton why don’t you take a seat.

Undeterred by Damian’s lack of interest, Fenton took a seat. Mr. Carson explained to Fenton his responsibilities as a mentor and what would be expected of him, Fenton in turn nodded along attentively. After his long explanation of the whole program the both of them were free from his office, and excused from classes until lunch to “get to know each other better”.

Damian translated that to having until lunch to show Fenton that he was out of his depth and have him running with his tail between his legs.

“So…” Fenton drawled trying to buy time to think of something adequate to say no doubt, “How about we go to the library to hang out?” Fenton offered.

Damian simply huffed in agreement as they made their way to a pair of sofas tucked between the many rows of books.

“So, Damian, uh, what do you like to do after school?” Fenton asked unoriginally.

Damian turned so he could meet Fenton eye-to-eye. “Train.” He said honestly. If he plans on scaring him off then leaning into the superficial things he learned in the League would do him well.

“Oh, you do sports?” Fenton asked inquisitively. Damian was momentarily thrown off by his show of genuine interest in his personal life, but Damian quickly collected himself. Fenton was merely putting on an act to get him to open up, Damian would be a fool to fall for it.

“No.” He scoffed at the thought of sports, “I train for battle,” He made sure to put as much confidence as he could in his voice. Oftentimes in the past when he had told his peers of his activities they had brushed him off and laughed at him, Damian wondered if Fenton would have a similar reaction.

“Hardcore.” Fenton nodded in awe.

Damian blinked, “You believe me?” He found himself whispering.

“Well, yeah.” Fenton responded as if it were the most obvious thing, in fact, he seemed confused as Damian’s bafflement.

Damian quickly collected himself, “Well of course you should believe me it’s the truth, I’m a highly skilled blade user.” He nodded to himself.

“Blade user, huh? Do you prefer katanas or wakizashi? Or a classic long sword maybe.” Fenton asked eying Damian as if it would help him find the correct answer.

“Katanas obviously.” Damian scoffed, “They’re incredibly balanced, strong, and give you incredible control over your attacks. Wakizashi are also a good option if you prefer close combat and if you’re fighting in an area with a lot of obstacles.” Fenton hummed and nodded at his explanation, and Damian found himself continuing, “Long swords are originally from the Bavaria and Switzerland regions during the medieval times-”