#Bruce have many kids

[hailkingphantom]

Dp x dc

I know that a joke about bruce having adopted millions of kids and how the batkids tease him about it, but what happend if that "joke" have more truth than the batkids are aware of?

Its impossible for bruce to adopt all the orphans, homeless and sick children in the world, but if Bruce could afford the whole watchtower withour affecting his company or fortune why he couldn't afford medicines, houses, schools and others suplies to children thar really need it?

Why cant be Danny one of those children?

Bruce met danny in a undercover mission to investigate the mayor of a small town: Amity Park. At first everything seemed normal, until an unknow figure crashed in the billionare's house. A kid, who couldn't be older than fouteen, had been the one who caused the damage after falling. The kid was bruised and tired, but that didn't him from fly to beat an unknow creature thar appear of nowhere and had started to attack the people around.

That child was a hero of this town.

A child had to step up to do their job, his job.

He have a kid to adopt contact

_____________________________

"Fuck!! Fucking bloody hell !!" Said a men, in front him was a glowing circle wich looked to become brighter and brighter every second

"Constantine! What is this!" Superman asked as he come back after knock of the last of the cultists. The room become colder and the heroes looked more and more concerned.

"The fuckers tried to summon the ghost king!! I tried to stop the summoning but its to late!!" The magician yelled. All the heroes there (WW, Superman, Flash, Nightwing) tensed except Batman. The bats sighed and told "Dont do anything, let him come"

"B what the—!" A thunder and flash of light interrupted him.

Black smoke started to cover the room, any light thar it wasnt feom the circle died. Murmurs and giggles surrounded the only occupants of the room, the shadows grow and sparkles appear.

The terrorific scenary was covered by tiny sparkles that looked like stars, and if you know well, you could see that it were in the same order as the real stars.

A orb of light came out of the summoning circle. Then begin to grow and form a figure, a tiny figure.

Snow white hair and glowing green eyes, a black hazmat suit and a some armor covering it. A cape in his back that reflect the universe with a symbol and a thin black crown, decorated with cold ice beutifuler than any gem they had seen.

Pointed ears perked up and a sharp smile appsr as the King look towards the heroes.

"W̷̜̟̞͔̔̓̍̈́̄̎̀̀̈́̉h̸̛̩̺͇̠̥̰͇̣̝̟̐͆̇͆̈́̆ö̷̠̬̗̬̫͕́͊͆͌̍͒̄͛̚ ̸͇̄̔̉d̶̻̠̼͇̽̾́̓͗̓̚ȃ̷̧͕͍̗̬͍͒̑r̵̲̻̗̎͐͆̽͑ẽ̷͖͔̣̩͈̯̜̹̈́̂͑̕d̸̡̀̇̊̋̌̔͐̀̂͠ ̸̼͍̜͈̖̭̟͑t̸̨̛̙̦̬̜̩͇͕͆̈́̓̄̕ơ̶̮̲͚̾̂̀̐͋̀̔̈͂ ̵̳͙̪͇̭͕̗̒s̶̖͒̀u̵̧̠̪͓̫̳͇̲̰̿̍̽̋̈̐̆̿͘͝m̸̛̩̫̟̱m̷̠̣̭̞͕͒̈́͋̕ő̴͖̘̥̰̞̣̟n̸̢̧͙̲͖̩̠̈́̇̂́͑̈̌̃̀̕ ̸̗̓̋͆t̴͉͈̣̅̒͆͜h̵̯̞͗ē̷̝̒̚͝ ̶̝͛̑̌͊́̎̚͝H̸̢͖̞̟̀ỉ̶̧̥̘̪̱͔́͛͊͋͆͗͌ͅg̶̝̞̿͐̇̉̚̚h̵̯͖̉ ̸̖̄̄K̸̬͕͕̩̘̮͎͕̮̔͒͆͋͐̏͐̚i̷̡̛̳̜̖̔́̐́n̵̺̳̫͆̓͠g̸̨̡͙͖̤͈̯̫̠̫̉̄̐̅́͑̊̇́͌ ̷̛͎̹͚̖̈́̓́̉̇̒̕͘o̵̭̙̦̻̺̳̮̜̗̞̊̐̈́̈́̍̈́̑͒̍f̵̧̣̩͎̟͇̕͜͜ ̵̨̛͖̼̼͙̭̍́͗̋̈́̊͜ṫ̶̥̉͒̽̀̾͗͝ḣ̸̲͎͚͚̟͚̙̒͌̈́͌̈́̚͝͝ͅḙ̶̢̜̱̼̟̩̫̪̽͆̓͊̃̽̅̄͒ ̴̧̙͈̳̘̜͂̊̅̊̃̌ͅḬ̴̪̜̲͔̮̱͑͒̆̚͜n̶̘̦̪̠̭͚̳̜̳͚̾̍̄̑̄̕f̷̪͈̯͚͉̖̦̥͌̐̈́̋͜ỉ̵͉̖͎͙͍̦̦̌͐̐͋̀͌̾͒ṋ̶̮͎͈̜̐̈́ͅị̷͎̳̾͆̾̓̿̿̂t̷͔̮͙͎̅̋̃̊͋̈́̊̚͠͝e̸̯̯̲̗̥̟̲̓̃̂́̏ ̷̖͔̣̯̜̲͇̅̏͝͝Ŗ̷͔̝̯̗̗̣̟̼̩̄e̵̢̘̘͈͙̐̆͜ͅā̵̠̙͍̰͔̠͉̻l̴̤̦̜̝̬̻̦̲͐́́̏̓m̷̛̠̱̥̓̀͌̓͆s̸̲̗͈͖̞̫̩̜̅͊̑̑̌̃̈́?̸̛̛̛͉̤̙͈̣̳̫̱̱̪̍͌͌̀́̇̚"

Constantine was going to talk when the bat interrupted him " Danny"

The king turned his eyes to the dark knight and sunddely all the pression dissapear.

"Bruce!" A cheerful, young voice yelled. It took a moment to the rest of the heroes realize that it came from the same king who talked with that inhuman voice before.

The young kid jump happily in the arms of the dark knight and embrace him.

"B, when did you adopted the Ghost king?!!?" Nightwing screamed hysterically.

The Bat looked at his son a confused, " Danny is one of the kids I support, I thought that you already knew it"

"how I supposed to know—! Wait. ONE OF!!!!?? HOW MANY MORE ARE YOU HIDDEN FROM US!!!??"

"Hidden??"

[superbat-love]

Clark: I’m so sorry, Bruce. I'll make sure Jon and Kon steer clear of the merry-go-round with the kids from now on.

Bruce: It’s honestly not a big deal, Clark. The kids had a blast, even though they puked at the end.

Clark: I’ll fetch some clean clothes for the little ones.

Bruce: If it's not too much trouble, could you find a blue, black, red, and green shirt?

Clark: …You color-code your kids?

Bruce: How else would I keep track of them?

Damian: [approaches Bruce] I’m good. I threw up a little in my mouth, but then I swallowed it down.

Bruce: TMI Jason.

Damian: It’s Damian!

Bruce: Damian, put your shirt back on and give me that hairclip. And please, no more using it as a can opener. You know that Cass doesn't like it. [turns to Clark] Okay, so a blue, black and red shirt would be great. Thanks Clark.

Superbat Family Fics

[renecdote]

do you think Bruce ever lies awake at night thinking about all the things he has taught his kids and how it seemed like a good idea at the time but maybe some of those habits are actually more bad than good

[multifanritz]

the batkids getting kidnapped must be such a hassle for bruce cuz he has to play 20 questions just to figure out which kid it is.

"The short one? So not Dick or Jay. Damian is home right now, so not him. That leaves 4. Black hair? Not Stephanie, okay. Looks bored? Honestly, that doesn't narrow things down at all. A girl? Oh, okay it's Cassandra. Alright, tell her to not take too long, dinner is in 30 minutes."

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 156

Bruce is very much not happy. He’s stuck in an absolutely tiny body, with hands that can barely grip onto anything. Not to mention he’s somewhere completely unfamiliar with way too much sun and his body, what, maybe a year? He can barely even stand. 

Ugh. Next time he’s definitely not jumping between his teammates and an unknown energy beam-thing. 

Now if he could not wobble and trip over what was his outfit but now seems to be a way too big cloak or cape, that would be great. Actually it might be his gear just well, only his cape. First thing is first, finding out where- or even when- the heck he is. 

Danny is honestly blaming Clockwork for everything when he spots a baby that could pass as his baby brother. And he knows he doesn’t have any more clones, seeing as he cleaned out Vlad’s lab himself. So. There’s apparently a tiny very liminal-feeling baby crawling around in what is practically a war zone thanks to the GIW. 

So he could be forgiven for picking the tiny child up as he runs, because if the GIW does another attack or bombing… Yeah, he’d rather the literal infant be in one of the safe zones protected by altered ecto shields, even if there was no clue as to where they came from. 

[spacedace]

Got inspired by the below tiktok and the idea of the Rogues killing the Joker in revenge for Jason instead of Bruce and had to write about it.

Here, have probably way too many words (with more to come most likely, this really won't leave me alone) of the Rogue's feelings about Jason's death at the Joker's hands and everything that followed.

(also I know the timeline is a bit screwy, shhh just go with it, we're going on vibes with this one lol)

-

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart.

A kid could slit your throat as easy as a man grown in a place like their fine city, maybe easier even for those who still fell for the ideal of children being incapable of anything but innocence and sweetness. Children learned from the world around them though, they learned from the savagery that filled their world, the hard scrabble desperate attempts to survive. They learned what dark corners to avoid, which ones were safer to skitter down.

It didn’t mean there weren’t still some rules of decency to be honored though.

Most folks, even those in the circle of the Rogues, largely left kids out of the equation. Crossfire happened of course, hitting busy city centers always meant some kind of collateral. But there wasn’t much that they got out of purposefully hurting kids outside a black mark on their name in most levels of the grungy underbelly of the city and one hell of a big target on their back. Both from the Bat and those criminals in the dark with them that took offense to those kinds of things. They were crooks, but with few exceptions they weren’t complete monsters.

Robin had always held an interesting place in their grungy little ecosystem. Anything to do with the Bat was generally ruled as gloves-off, do what you do without hesitation. And Robin - both of ‘em - had no problem hitting hard and being ruthless. The first one in particular had a feral sort of rage to him that was a terrifying thing to be on the business end of.

But they were still kids.

Defending yourself from any kid swinging on you was fair game, a person had the right to defend themselves. Grabbing up Robin to hold hostage or bait Gotham’s local cryptid, that was all fine and dandy. You could even get away with roughing the kid up a little here and there, so long as you made sure not to go too far and always kept hits to where the kid’s armor was the thickest. No hard and fast written rules, mind, but general rules of thumbs. Lines indistinct due to the shaky ground a child dancing through the night as a vigilante left all of them on, but ones clear enough that you knew when you were at risk of going too far.

Besides, the Robins were good kids. Fucking feral little shits, of course, able to leave you bleeding just as easy from a kick as they were a sharp word. But good kids. Even most the Rogues in the Gallery liked em. It was hard not to be at least a little fond of a gutsy little punk like that.

Though they were all maybe a tad less nervous around Robin II than they were the original.

Robin I had a lot of anger burning in him, a lot of anger in him, but he was still a cheerful boy with a bright attitude that was refreshing in a world so bleak and dark as the one they all lived in. It was up in the air which was scarier about the kid: The smiled he gave when he was about to give a hands on demonstration about how much force a tiny ten year old could put into a kick when they had half a dozen spins shoved into a flip to wind up to 80 miles an hour, or the flash of his teeth when he was demonstrating the knife sharp brilliance of his belief that Batman was only as frightening as Robin was hopeful.

They weren’t sure if he realized that sometimes they felt a helluva lot more hope at the sight of the Bat when the little bird was putting the hurt on them, or if he’d simply folded that fact neatly into his core philosophy without issue.

Robin II on the other hand had this kind of quiet shyness to him - even as he was shouting the most inventive swears ever heard by human ear at someone while he kicked them in the balls hard enough to make ‘em see not just the face of their own god but a few dozen besides. He was just as unhinged as the Robin before him - seemed to be a requirement for the job really - but there was a distinct different in how the two birds flitted about the darkened skyline of the city. Where the first Robin’s smile was as much danger as it was dazzle, a fanged declaration of victory against the dark, Robin II’s was a sunny, stubborn declaration of perseverance. Kid was sassy and smart, and never - ever - flinched away from extending a hand to those he thought in need of it.

Even if the folks he offered that hand to were in the middle of an attack on some fancy Gala or Wayne Enterprises or whatever target of the week it was. Even knowing the offered hand was likely to be slapped away and followed by a right hook. Kid still always tried.

They all knew why.

The Bat was big on offering chances, on rehabilitation rather than damnation. Some of Robin II being the way he was came from the broody cryptid he followed around. But Batman couldn’t claim to be the sole reason for Robin II being the way he was, couldn’t even pretend to be the cause of most of it. Nah, they knew why the little bird was the way he was.

That unmistakable thick accent. That frame that was always a little too thin even as he got older and stronger. That unshakable, headstrong spirit.

Robin II was an Alley Kid.

A true child of Gotham.

Her polluted waters in his veins. Her smoggy air in his lungs. Her shadows clinging to his edges less like a beast looking to swallow a small bird up and more like a protective mother hiding her hatchling. He understood the world most of them came from. The one they all lived in. Knew it in a way anyone who hadn’t been swallowed up by the dark never really could.

Everyone had their favorite, but even those that claimed the first Robin as theirs couldn’t deny that Robin II was someone to be respected. Nor could they deny a fondness for the chain smoking, classic lit referencing, perpetually baby-faced little shit. They’d all had knock out drag out fights with the kid and knew how fucking unhinged the puny motherfucker could be in a fight, but he always tempered it with offers of resources, of a listening ear, of understanding.

He visited them after they’d been arrested sometimes. In Arkham, or Blackgate or wherever else they’d been locked up in after being stopped by the Dynamic Duo. The little bird would make the rounds whenever he had a broken wing or was stuck waiting as the Bat interrogated someone else or for any other reason he wasn’t out flitting about the city skyline at night. He’d bring cookies or snacks and even cigarettes from his own secret stash on the rare occasion, mask unable to hide the furtive glances around to check for the living shadow that was the disapproving Bat.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

But childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham.

Bad things happened to good kids all the time.

And some of the monsters that lurked in the city’s darkest shadows took the black mark of a kid killer as a point of pride.

Robin II disappeared one day. Just after that piece of shit Garzonas took the fast way down from the top of a tall building. There were a lot of Rogues with doctoral degrees to their names but even those Goons that dropped out of school before they learned to spell their own names could do that math.

The big bad Bat had benched the boy after the fierce little bird had done what any decent member of the criminal underbelly would have. There were those that thought maybe it’d been an accident, that the kid was pulled off duty because of being too upset at unintentionally crossing the heavy line the Bat drew in the sand. Those voices were drowned out pretty quick though.

Sure, Robin II was all about second chances, of doing better, of redemption. But Garzonas had chances to spare and only ever spat in the face of those offering them. Doubled down on being a monster in a way very, very few of the Rogues Gallery would. The kid was a sweetheart, but he wasn’t no push over and there were some things so heinous that there was only one way of handling them. Crime Alley had its own kind of justice system, and when faced with a monster that was beyond even Batman’s jurisdiction, Robin II did what he always did: fell back on his roots.

Or so the rumors said, at least.

That was the thing about Gotham’s seedy underbelly. It was a grimy, wretched nest of vipers and cut-throats, but it was also worse than any beauty parlor when it came to gossip. No one actually knew anything other than that piece of shit motherfucker took a dive while Robin was chasing him and that he’d not been seen on the streets since. But most had a fondness for the kid, and a distaste for the kind of cruelty Garzonas reveled in and there was no proof that Robin hadn’t gone and done the world a favor by drop kicking that barbaric sack of shit off a roof. So as far as most in the Gallery were concerned, the little bird had stepped up and been a hero.

Time passed. Not a lot. But enough. The Bat disappeared too, popping up on an entire other continent in a way that was awfully tempting. Even with other Masks playing baby sitter while the local cryptid was away. Rogues were scrambling to set plans in motion, Goons getting hired en masse, weapons and weird chemicals getting delivered to shady places across Gotham by the truck-full. The criminal underbelly was abuzz with the same excited energy of children the day before a big birthday party.

And then the news came in.

There were people in the dark who made their living finding things out. Knowing things that no one else did or could. Some even specialized, keeping tabs on Batman and Robin better than anyone else in the business were able. And when the information they found wasn’t anything handy to have tucked into a back pocket or a secret they were paid extremely well to keep? They held on to with the same tenacity a sieve clung to water.

Robin II had run off across the globe and ended up in Ethiopia. Something to do with a doctor doing aid work, the same something that had the Bat end up there was the assumption. Kid ran off to handle things himself or was sent on a separate path on purpose for some plan or other the Bat had cooked up on his hunt.

Whatever the reason, the kid crossed paths with the Clown.

Alone.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham. The city was hard and cruel and she didn’t care about the ages of those that were ground up and spit out in her oily black heart. But Robin II was hers, the child of her heart, an exception to the rule. And besides, most folks - even those in the Rogues Gallery - largely left the purposeful harm of kids out of the equation.

The Joker wasn’t most folks.

And the little bird was a long way away from the protective shadows of his mother city.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. And Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of them from time to time. He was a good kid.

When the news broke, it broke most of them right along with it.

Plans stalled. Schemes ended. Gotham, for an unnervingly quiet stretch of time that neither its civilians or the world at large understood, went still. Crime continued, of course, but the big names weren’t seen. It was only right, by the standards of those that lived their lives in the dark, that they hold off and give the man that fought them all so relentlessly over the past years the time he needed to focus on hunting down the monster that killed his son. He didn’t need the distraction, and they all owed it to Robin II not to interfere while the Bat at last put a final end to the Clown.

And the hellish cryptid would need his full focus on this one. The Joker wasn’t one to take lightly at the best of times, but he’d set himself up neatly in the middle of a nasty bear trap. Ugly and complicated in the way everything with the Clown was. Interference from the CIA, from the UN, from Superman.

Shit went down. People heard about the Bat and the Clown throwing down in a helicopter plummeting from the sky in one hell of a water landing. Big Blue fished Batman out of the drink before he could drown but there’d been no sign of the Joker.

But the Bat would find him.

They all knew the relentless bastard would find him. It was just a matter of time. With the hellish drive of a demon straight from Gotham’s darkest shadows, the Bat would track the grinning, child killing ghoul down and make right the terrible wrong the evil motherfucker had done. Batman would hunt him to the ends of the earth and enact the justice he held up so fiercely. Robin II would have the vengeance the kid so rightly deserved.

It was just a matter of time. So they waited. And waited.

Days.

Weeks.

Months.

The Clown still lived.

The world, impossibly, began to move on. The Bat returned to his lurking in the night, picking off gangs and petty crooks and no-name gangsters as if nothing had happened at all. More vicious, more savage, but failing to turn that rise in brutality into the killing blow against the one figure that so rightly deserved it.

No one knew what was happening. There were rumors and theories, as there always were in the underground. Some thought that it wasn’t the Bat at all back in Gotham but someone else pretending for awhile, looking after his neglected city while he continued his pursuit of the Joker. Other held that it was the Bat but the whole thing was a ploy to draw the Clown out into the open. A pretense at not caring meant to get under the Clown’s skin, make the asshole mad enough to get stupid and sloppy and reveal himself.

That the man simply had given up was beyond comprehension. Beyond what any upstanding Rogue could accept. So it simply couldn’t be true. There was a trick being played. Some brilliant game of 4D chess that none of them had been able to parse out. It’d be revealed in time, and they see the brilliant trap that had been set. The Clown would be lured out, the Bat would put him down for good, and then they’d all at last raise a glass to the little bird that had been shot down far too soon and smoke shitty cigarettes and quote literary masters and mourn the loss one of Gotham’s own true children.

They just had to play along. Stumbling forward back into their usual habits, pretending that it was a choice and not the world just forcibly dragging them along. It’d make sense, eventually. The Bat had a plan. Robin II wasn’t forgotten, his killer not left free to roam and ravage unpunished for what he’d done.

And then one day there was a new bird flitting across the rooftops.

Chasing the Bat’s looming frame like a reverse shadow. Bright flashes of color in contrast to the bleak darkness of Gotham’s grimy nights. Small and thin and young.

Not the first Robin. With his showman bright grin and bloody rage and unwavering belief in the terrifying power of hope. Not the brilliant, vicious little boy that they’d seen grow over the years into the fierce and fearless Nightwing.

Not Robin II either.

Not Gotham’s soft hearted little bruiser with his unshakable belief that people could be better if given the chance, shinning so bright in the dark as he held out a hand that even the Rogues had no choice but to believe right along with him sometimes. Not the tough little songbird they’d never get to see grow up. Unavenged and unhonored. Put in a box and buried in the ground with a name none of them would ever know carved into a stone they’d never be able to visit.

No.

It was a new Robin.

A new child with the R emblazoned upon his chest.

Sharp and quick and young in the way the birds always were when they started flying at the Bat’s side. Every inch of the boy’s tiny frame a tragedy and an insult. One very, very few of Gotham’s vicious underbelly were willing to tolerate.

Childhood was not held universally sacred in the dark streets of Gotham, but there was a damn big difference between holding something sacred and not giving a damn about it at all. There were rules unspoken but understood, a way things were done. Nothing so solid or concrete as a code of conduct, more a collection of time honored traditions. Blood for blood was among the oldest and truest, and the more precious the person taken the more vital and vicious payment was to be made in kind.

The Clown had killed Robin II.

Beaten the kid half to death and then finished the job with a bomb.

Everyone knew he’d done it laughing all the way.

The Bat should have done the same in kind. Done worse. It was justice, it was what was right. You kill a kid you’re marked forever. You kill one so well liked and kill ‘em like that and you’re destined for a cruel and cold death. The Bat had first dibs. It was his kid. It was his right to put an end to that awful laughter and let his son have peace at last.

But he never did.

Nightwing had. For a bit. For a moment.

Robin I, who half the time had scared them all more than the Bat ever could. Dazzling and dizzying and dangerous. Gave back the pain and hurt the Clown had forced upon him with clenched fists and bone shattering hits. They were glad for him, that he was able to beat the monster who had taken his little brother from him to death, that he was able to have such justice.

And then the Bat stepped in.

Revived the fucking Clown.

A slap in the face. The snapping crack of a spine beneath one straw too many. The final, unforgivable insult the man had dared visit upon not just the child taken from him but the entirety of Gotham.

The Rogues and their Goons always had a soft spot for the Robins. Respected their ferocity, admired their moxie, marveled at their ability to keep shining in the dark like they did. Robin II made it especially easy to let fondness bleed out of the city’s dirty criminal underbelly from time to time.

He was a good kid.

He deserved better.

Better than the silence and peace he should be granted in death to be marred by the mad cackles of his killer still running around alive and unpunished. Better than his father giving up, returning to the same old routine as if nothing had happened at all. Better than the Bat snatching up a new bird less than a year later.

Gotham and her Rogues had given the Bat time enough to do what needed to be done.

It was their turn.

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone Danny Masterpost

So its been like, almost a week since the first part of clone danny came out and, in unsurprising Starry fashion, I already have six parts out. Granted they're not very long but six parts ARE six parts, so here is a masterpost!

Part 1. Danny Fenton Lives!! And also becomes a vigilante

Part 2. More Danny Fenton Trying To Be Phantom

Part 3. Danny finds out he's a clone. Oh and look Bruce is here too

Part 4. What to do when your genetic donor is suddenly in the same building as you: a guide to avoidance

Part 4.5. Dani's Got The Scary Dog Privileges: More On That Here

Part 5. Damian is a menace, and so is Ellie, actually.

Part 6. The Waynes Leave, finally!… And Danny ends up in Gotham

Part 7. Danny's still in Gotham. Send Help

Part 7.5. Remember Dan in part 2? he's back in an interlude :)

Part 8. Danny Gets His Phone Call

Memes PT1 Memes PT2

A Reflection On Danny's Reaction To Being A Clone

Other:

Au of an Au: combining two clones Clone^2 snippets More Clone^2 danny's hands

Danny becoming Phantom (Clone^2 AND Clone Danny applicable)

Starry geeks out about her unintentionally putting meaning behind Danny being Phantom without powers.

Tag for @gin2212 bc you wanted one when the masterpost went out

[mikakuna]

red hood, who never doubts himself when he kills vile criminals because he knows people, victims, will feel safer. he's okay with getting rid of monsters if it makes the world a better place for the children, the women, and the innocents.

jason todd, who knows he's doing the right thing for gotham's children and women, for the people that batman and the GCPD tend to overlook. he knows that he has to take such measures to ensure another person or child doesn't fall into the world of drugs like his mama did.

but jay? jay, who just wants his dad to stop looking at him like he's the most disappointing failure in the world. jay, who wants his dad to love him again the way he loves his other children with all their faults. jay, who will happily chase after his dad, no matter how many times the man hurts him, like a kicked dog who will always stick by their owner's side.

jay, who sometimes wishes he can turn back time to when bruce still loved him.

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *10*

It had been a relative uneventful day in Gotham, the new Week just started and most of the big rouges were still in Arkham after the last big breakout. And even tho the nightly patrol wasn't done, Batman send most of his charges that were still somewhat injured home. He, Orphan and Robin would be able to handle the rest.

They had stopped some muggings and one break-in by the time patrol officially ended. His children made their way back to the manor on their bikes, while the Bat made one last round through the docks.

He had a feeling of foreboding, not necessarily a bad feeling, but he was cautious. Even if Cassandra and Damian weren't hurt that badly, he still wanted them home. He wasn't entirely sure why, but he didn't had much time to think it over.

A swirling green Portal opened in front of him and a figure started to emerge from it. Bruce got into a fighting stance, his eyes trained on the unknown.

The Portal vanished after a young man, almost still a boy, stepped out of it. He had white hair that seemed to sway as if he was under water. Green freckles glowed in the dark, just a little muted in contrast to the vibrant green eyes. The boy - because the longer Bruce looked, the younger the being seemed - floated a few inches in the air. In his hands he held what looked like a type of thermos.

"You are Batman, right?", his voice seemed to echo a bit, even in this open space. Bruce just gave a little nod, still in his fighting stance. Just because the other seemed young, didn't mean he wasn't dangerous.

"Good, good... ahem... So my name is Danny or Phantom or Danny Phantom and I know this might come a bit suddenly, but a friend of mine - well more like my mentor - said that I was on the way for the best possible timeline and I think he really needs someone like you - you know with all those contingency plans - and a different dimension than ours and he is already 3 years in the thermos, well minus the bit he was out for a moment where Clockwork sat his Bodytime a bit back, so that he can have a childhood again, but that was like five minutes max. so that doesn't really count, because ha was also in timeout, so for him it was more like a few seconds, but ahem, what I wanted to ask you Mr. Batman, sir... Would you take my evil self from a different timeline, so that he can have a better childhood and maybe be not evil anymore?", Danny rambled and Batman really wished in this moment to have any of his children here, just to make sure that he did indeed hear correctly.

Even if everything had came out in one breath, the things he could piece together didn't paint the best picture. But it seemed like his brooding had taken to long, because the child folded into himself and started do fidget.

"I understand that you don't want to, you don't know me or Dan or anything about us, but you seemed to be the one most capable of handling him and I looked through so many dimension in the hope to find a good place for him... I can understand why he is like he is, but I will never be able to talk sense into him. His actions are unforgivable, but his timeline doesn't exist anymore, the things he done never happened and he is alone in a dimension that would just remind him of everything that happened if he would life with us... But I can totally just look into some more dimension if you don't want to! It's not your problem and I shouldn't have bothered, sorry!" Phantom started to raise his hand and a green line became visible where his finger cut through the air. If Bruce didn't do anything the being would go with a child that needed his help.

"I want a list with all his abilitis, his weaknesses, his potential triggers, dietary needs, allergies, a way to contact you, your mentor and a third trusted person in case of an emergency and a weekly check in system from your side", Bruce knew his kids would make fun of him when he brought another child home, but someone said he was the best possible guardian for this boy, so he would take him. And if he felt pleased about Danny's surprised and relieved face, than no one needed to know.

"Of course! I think Clockwork gave me a folder with everything!", the boy exclaimed, before he led the riff he started to open close, just to open another one. He seemed to rummage in the small Portal, until he showed him a folder full of papers. This would take a while to go through, but at least the boy was prepared.

[bruciemilf]

Having a concerning amount of Bruharvey brainrot, but - can we talk about the fucking whiplash Harvey would experience at seeing his goons roughhouse a literal 10 year old kid.

" The hell are you pea brains doin' with him?"

" Boss! He's Batman's sidekick and he came to stop us all on his own. Had a fight with the winged bastard. If you want a hit in-"

Dick doesn't see what happens next. A huge hand shields his eyes from it, but he knows how guns sound like. A yelp bubbles out of him when Two-Face grabs his suit and lifts him to his impressive eye level.

" Alright, birdie. Start chirpin'. What the hell are you doin' on my streets without Bats? He know where you are?" Dick does his best at conveying confidence; Bruce does it all the time.

He says he's there to stop them, to prove he can fight all on his own, but his shaking doesn't stop. It's a tough job to be tough without Bruce behind him, without a protective force telling him he's doing good.

Two-Face pretends not to see it and its more gratifying than it should probably be. " Well, I'd like a sandwich before you take me in. Don't know about you, but I'm hungry as fuck," a pause , " I'll let ya curse if you don't tell your old man."

Dick giggles; He says way worse, but Bruce doesn't have to find out. So that's how Bruce finds them; Dick almost disappearing inside a huge suit jacket, getting it full of sauce and grease, and Two-Face snorting as he wipes his face with a handkerchief.

" Robin." His name a relief filled breath rolling off Bruce's tongue. Even as Batman, even wrapped in rasp and gruff, Bruce's concerned, fatherly tone doesn't vanish. " Batmobile. Not a sound."

" Bye, Mr. Two-Face!" Dick waves, an innocent shrug meeting Bruce's unamused glare. " What? That's multiple sounds."

Two-Face snorts a laugh, and Bruce glares. " It's not funny."

" Nothin' ever is to ya. Hey, if you need some mommy and me advice, my sister has a dumb blog full of that shit. Sure as hell don't envy anyone who uses it."

" Jessica's blog is very informative. "

Shit.

" So it is you under there, pendejo. Shit, Bruce. I know you had baby fever, but sidekick fever, -"

" He's not my sidekick. He's..." My son. My hope. " He's a hero in making. Bad things happened, and I'm trying to make sure he grows through them."

Harvey's face is blank like a sheet of paper and Bruce doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to be judged. Not by him, never by him.

"Well. Can't think of anything worse than being named Dick. Least he doesn't have to go through that twice. "

And Bruce almost cracks a smile; All these years between them like an ocean of glass and Harvey still knows how to coax a smile from him. " Seriously, Bruce. They'll tear him apart at GA. Those little shits don't know mercy."

And if Bruce is asked why Two-Face picks his child up from school once a week, Bruce just smiles and shrugs. " It takes a village."

[violent138]

Bruce Wayne is the one parent who cannot reasonably ground his kids because they have contingencies for that. If outright banning them from patrol even works, they'll just start shit from the Cave. So he bans them from the Cave, only for them to invent something in their bedroom/crack a case with paper copies of files they've kept just in case. If he somehow bans them from doing any detective work, they train for the next opportunity they have to go out and do crazy things. Or they come up with strategies for their superpowered friends to bring them things by taking out the power for the perimeter alarms.

[anormalkidingotham]

bruce wayne just ordered a sandwich that was maybe $5 at most to his work and then paid me with a 100-dollar-bill because he "didn't have any change" and told me to just keep the rest when i couldn't give him change

[batfamhyperfixation]

If Bruce feels the Batfam needs a refresher on the rules or some of the kids are acting out, he makes them all sit in a room together and play a gimkit for it (for those who don't know what gimkit is, it's basically interactive Kahoot where you get little people you can customize and you get put in a game together, the common themes are snowball fight (competitive, you answer questions to get snowballs to throw at people and the person with the most kills at the end wins) and fishing (more independent, you answer questions for bait to then use for fishing to then get money from it and whoever has the most money at the end wins). The kids all love it and he found it is far more productive way of teaching them the rules instead of lectures cause they are all competitive so they all learn the rules to give them an advantage in the competition.

[robbed-ghost]

Jon silently making contingencies about every doomsday he can imagine. Jon using all he knows about investigative journalism to make sure none of the evil universes he keeps encountering are permanent problems. Jon knowing every persons weakness because he’s paranoid making sure there’s not an injustice-like event in his world. Jon making friends but making sure he can take them down if the worst comes, too.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 184

“Well damn.” 

Jason wrenched his gaze from the mess of red and green spattered across the room, searching for the source of the voice. His head hurt, he wanted his Dad. He wanted Bruce. He… his head hurt. His everything hurt. 

“Honestly, didn’t expect them to find another half-breed. Didn’t think there was another halfa out there…”  

He tore his gaze away from the floor- when had it gotten there- finally finding the other… person? The person giving him an empty smile through some sort of muzzle and missing an entire arm. Well, he couldn’t judge, he’d torn his nails off while digging out of his grave before… this. 

“Hey, kid, don’t sweat it, it’ll grow back,” the man apparently noticed where he was staring, shoulder twitching as he shrugged and more green pouring out. Jason couldn’t stop staring, eyes slipping from the growing pool to the rest of the chains apparently keeping the person on that side of the… room? Cage? Cell? 

“Shit, hey, kid, kid, don’t cry, uh, fuck, shh, kid don’t cry-” the person made a noise, some sort of hum or croon that caused him to relax. To his already brain-damaged confusion. “C’mere, away from the door now, shh…” 

Oh, when had he started to move? It was like he blinked and was stumbling away towards the chained person, practically tripping over a limb before the person managed to catch him. “Ope, oh you’re just a little baby-” a hand, clawed, carefully ran through his hair, tucking him against a rumbling chest that nearly made him tear up again. He wanted Bruce. 

“It’s alright kid, shh, they won’t get you,” the man rumbled, everything about him green to his rapidly closing eyes. Pale skin like a corpse, black scales like rot, hair white like snow, all stained green with blood.  “They’d have to kill me again for that.” 

[spacedace]

Sorta sequel of this post (where Bruce is happy that Damian has totally and completely normal human friends). You don't have to read that one to get this one tho lol.

Slight Trigger Warning: minor description of injuries and blood, including injuries to ears and scalp. It's quick and not much detail on the injuries themselves, but I wanted to give a heads up.

Tim always thought his friend group was the most unhinged in the family.

Not anymore.

His friends at least had enough of a sense of self preservation to book it when Bruce caught them doing something they shouldn't and leveled them with A Look.

Tim's pretty sure Damian's friends call god a bitch to his face everyday and give him a wedgie in a Denny's parking at least twice a week. He's positive he saw them roast one of the League's S tier world ending threats to the point of tears last weekend. The footage was too badly corrupted to prove it, but he knows what he saw.

All of which to say, he's shouldn't be surprised when Bruce levels little Elle Nightingale and her cousin Billy Batson with his patented "You Are In So Much Trouble" BatDad Face (TM) and the little hellions just grin back at him, entirely unaffected. Shouldn't be but still is because holy fuck even Jason will still back off when Bruce levels him with that look. And these kids had the gaul to ask Bruce if they could go get ice cream after they were done here.

Bruce blinks first. It feels like an omen for the ends times.

Tim can't blame him though, you can’t look into the heart of insanity and chaos like that for too long without risking losing something in the process. Steph was right, they really are nightmare demons sent to feed on their fear and uncertainty.

Billy swipes a smear of blood away from his busted nose with the sleeve of his torn and dirty shirt. Elle's teeth are pink and red from blood - Tim isn't sure if it's better or worse that it's not her blood. Jon was bouncing between fussing over Damian - who Superboy had been mostly able to keep from joining the fight and thus probably saved a couple of lives - and casting worried looks at his two bloody friends as they stood lined up in front of Bruce. At least one of them had enough sense to be wary of that look.

Tim would say that Jon was the well behaved one of the bunch - and worryingly enough he might be - but he'd heard him yelling give em the chair at one of the two scrappers as he and Bruce came running over so he knows it's only the fact that a punch from even a baby Kryptonian would have killed a person that kept the littest Kent out of the fight rather than any idea that the fight itself was wrong. All four children look ruthlessly proud of each other.

The ones the hellions were fighting - a couple of guys Tim's age who had been stupid enough to try and bully Damian at all, let alone in front of his pack of feral raccoons - looked like they'd gone several rounds with Killer Croc before being thrown around by Bane and run over by a car. They deserved it- assholes - but they still looked rough.

One was bleeding from several bite wounds Elle had inflicted on him, earlobes a mess from where the little girl had torn his earrings out, both eyes blackened and swollen to the point he couldn't open them anymore. The other had a large red and bleeding bald spot from where Billy had ripped a good chunk of hair out, nose completely shattered- likely in retaliation for what had been done to Billy's - and elbow hanging at an odd angle. Tim's not sure which one of them had the chair - thankfully one of those fabric folding ones and not something more solid - broken over them, or which hellspawn had taken Jon's suggestion to heart, but either way he could see the twisted up remains of the item in question laying not too far away.

At least the EMTs were ushering the two weeping teens away into ambulances so they could get taken care of. Tim's pretty sure Elle and Billie would try and get a few more hits in otherwise and knowing them he doesn't doubt that at least one of the cops that had shown up on the scene would end up losing a finger or two in the process. Which normally Tim would be fine with - he has files on all of these guys and they deserve way worse than what a couple twelve year olds could do to them - but in this case he's already having a hard time convincing the officers that it's just a matter of some kids defending one of their friends from a couple of bullies.

Ugh. Some people just didn't understand children and it really showed. It was a public park, kids were gonna be kids. Just a normal childhood scrap. The real problem were the highschoolers who tried to start shit with a group of little kids.

Sure the hellions were feral and unhinged enough to be unbothered by Bruce trying to chide them about starting fights instead of getting an adult to help, but at the end of the day playground scuffles will happen and the kids were just defending themselves. Cops should be thankful that BL wasn't able to join them for the day or someone would have ended up shoved into a cooler or something.

Eh, whatever. He got them to drop the assault charges - which were ridiculous, Elle & Billie were normal twelve year olds getting into a fight, it wasn't like it was Damian with all his training and skills - and Bruce had given up on trying to be disapproving of them not reporting the attempted bullying to him instead of handling it themselves. Probably because at the end of the day he was a little proud of the little shits for defending Damian and standing up against some bullies. And really Tim was too. They might be vicious little hellspawns sent there to torment them all, but they were good kids at the end of the day and they cared about Damian enough to throw down with guys twice their size.

Tim pulled up a list of the nearest ice cream places on his phone, Bruce was totally going to cave on that front and even if he didn't Tim was willing to use his executive Big Brother privileges to get them ice cream anyway. He isn’t going to need to though. Jon had thrown his puppy dog eyes into the mix on that front and Tim knows from experience how much a kryptonian looking hopeful could get away with when it came to this family. Hell, Kon had probably taught his little brother that face for these exact kinds of situations because of how effective it was.

"I'm still going to have to tell Jazz about this." Bruce said as they shuffled off towards the restrooms to try and get everyone cleaned up, a parting shot to make up for his failure to cow them earlier.

"Please don't tell her! She’s gonna make us read articles about conflict resolution again!"

"B come on that's no fair! You said we did good not letting those assholes get away with their bullying shit!"

"Language!"

Huh, Tim thought with a grin. Maybe the little demons weren't as terrifyingly unstoppable as he thought.