DPxDC Recount Your Kids, Batman
[A loose continuation to this post]
Talia doesn't visit the Wayne manor. At least not regularly nor officially. All the batkids and Batman know she comes sometimes, just to check up on Damian and maybe bother Bruce from time to time, but this is the first time she has ever shown up to a dinner.
And, as they all take their seats, she gives Damian a long curios glance. Then, she looks to Bruce.
"Is that everyone?" She asks, easy and lighthearted. One might think she is simply not acquainted with the number of Wayne children or that she is teasing Bruce on the sheer amount of them. But Damian is looking down to his plate, and Tim knows for sure Talia keeps up with Wayne's head count, and Dick is fairly certain Talia would never tease Bruce, at least not so subtly.
It could have been some sort of a hint at Jason. If he was not here, that is. But he is, for once, so this is really all the family at one table.
"Yes?" Dick tries, looking around the table just to make sure. Steph and Babs are not here today, but that's definitely not what Talia could have meant. Bruce also looks just a little confused, which is a nice change of pace since he looked guarded and on edge from the very moment Talia showed up.
The woman hums, her eyes studying Damian. The youngest bat keeps his gaze down on his empty plate. No one really understands what's going on, but they all feel like there's something important and heavy hanging in the air.
Then, Talia stands up and turns to Alfred, "We will be dining later. It has come to my attention that kids are a lot more secretive than I thought," she explains cryptically and smiles at Bruce, "Beloved, will you come with me to the training grounds? I have something to show you."
Bruce doesn't move for a long moment, and Talia's smile becomes almost gentle, "It's about your son."
At least that makes the man move.
When they get down to the Cave - since Talia insisted this was not a matter that could be resolved in the manor's training room - it's not only her, Bruce, and the little bat there, of course. The whole family was way too intrigued, and some were even alarmed.
The most alarming part, though, was the fact that Damian had been uncharacteristically quiet on their way down. Yet, when Dick looked to Cass, she just shook her head slightly. The boy was not worried. To Cass, he looked almost resigned, if a bit displeased.
"Your sword, Damian," Talia commands, and the boy presses his lips into a thin line.
"This is not necessary, Mother."
"It is," the woman looks amused, but there's an underlying layer of concern to her tone.
"...Yes, Mother," Damian nods his head on what feels like surrender and takes his katana. Not the training one, the real blade. Bruce makes a soft, alarmed grunt, but Talia waves him off.
"Not to worry, Beloved. I will not harm our brethren."
She doesn't take a stance, nor does she pick out a weapon, simply lunges for Damian as soon as they are both on the mats. Two daggers seem to appear in her hands out of nothing, and, contrary to her words, her aim is towards Damian's neck. The boy blocks, jumps away, and blocks another attack.
Tim steps closer, "You can't just-"
"Step away, Drake," It's the first time Damian has spoken to them since they've sat down for dinner. His voice is tense, but not derisive. If anything, it sounds a bit tired.
Talia lunges for him again, faster, meaner. Metal clings against metal.
"You understand this can not keep going, my child," she tells the boy, startlingly gentle on the contrary to her definitely dangerous strikes.
Damian doesn't answer.
The rest of Batfam are forced to simply watch the encounter: Damian is mostly on defense as Talia goes for him, harder and harder with every hit. Until, without any warning, the woman strikes for Damian's arm, making him drop his katana, and-
A few things happen at once.
Talia lunges for Damian's throat. Bruce jumps onto the mats so fast that he almost trips. Tim yelps.
But Talia's blade doesn't strike.
A figure of another child, eerily similar to Damian and wearing the League of Assassins uniform, is standing in front of the littlest bat, two crystal clear blades in his hands, blocking the dagger.
Bruce halts midstep. The rest of the family holds their breath.
But Talia simply smiles and drops her daggers, backing away and looking at the boy between her and Damian with a fond gaze.
"Danyal," she greets, and the boy huffs, lowering his weapons. He doesn't drop them - they simply dissipate in the air, turning into tiny snowflakes.
"Mother," he greets back begrudgingly, and his voice is the exact replica of Damian's. A clone? No, because Damian reacts to him nothing like he had to the clones, simply clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes.
"You could have simply asked, Mother," he comments, taking a step forward and stading near the other boy. Danyal. When standing side by side, they look nearly identical - same facial features, same posture, same hair, even if Damian's is a little more tame.
But Danyal's eyes are just a few hues off. Still green but lighter than Damian's.
"I assumed if you have spent years living here and never bothered to mention your brother, I would need a little more than asking, my love," Talia doesn't laugh, but it sounds like she wants to. Both boys roll their eyes, perfectly in sync.
Hold the fuck up, brother?
"Huh. I thought you died," Jason mentions offhandedly, and the whole family whips their heads to him. Yet, before any of them speak, it's Danyal who answers.
"I mean, I did? Kinda?" He waves his hand in the air and shrugs, and he acts so unlike Damian while also simultaneously having his face, that it makes Tim shiver a little.
"You-" Bruce starts, seeming to finally find his voice, but the boy cuts him off.
"I'm not actually yours," he snorts at Bruce's facial expression, "Yeah, I know I look like I am. Blame the ghost sewers, Chronos, and my stupid ass for making decisions while not being fully awake."
There is so much to unpack in that sentence that no one has the barest of ideas on where to start.
Damian curves his lips down in a sneer.
"The longer you stay there staring, the colder the dinner will be when we return," he reminds them, and Danyal suddenly perks up.
"Dinner? Can I join? It's been ages since I've had anything home cooked," he smiles, like there's some kind of an inside joke in that sentence. Damian rolls his eyes.
"The food doesn't come alive in this household, Danyal."
"Bummer," the boy looks a bit disappointed, but not too much. "And it's Danny, for the thousandth time."
Talia picks up her daggers, hiding them somewhere in her clothes in an unnoticeable motion. Then, she gives Bruce a small, if a bit sly, smile.
"You can not call it 'family dinner' if not all your family is there."
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You know how we all love to say Percy and Annabeth are everyone’s parents? Well I literally think their friends treat them that way.
You messed up and now a dark force is out to get you and you don’t know how to handle it? Call Mom (Annabeth). She will know exactly what to do and she’s going to bring research. She’s not gonna let anything happen to you.
You need to go to a really scary monster lair and you’re scared of getting ripped to literal shreds? Call Dad (Percy). He will kick its ass and protect you at all costs. He’s not gonna let anything happen to you.
Feeling overwhelmed after moving? Call Mom. Annabeth will bring homemade cookies, unpack everything in an orderly yet efficient fashion, and then sit down with you, listen, give advice, and then help you make a plan.
Got arrested? Call Dad. Percy will want to know what happened and make sure you’re okay, but he’s not gonna judge or scold you. He’ll pay your bail, take you for ice cream, and then tell you his own stories about getting arrested.
When people need advice about men, they call Annabeth. When people need advice about women, they call Percy. Because who better to ask than the couple who’ve been super happily married for what feels like forever (even if they’ve only technically been dating for 6 years or something).
Dating someone new? Mom and Dad do NOT get to meet them yet. Percy and Annabeth are going to be unnecessarily intimidating (in different ways) and scare the person away SO fast. And if the person somehow passes the test, then Percy and Annabeth are going to go back to bickering and flirting and overall just being so embarrassing.
Mom and Dad are a couple of menaces, but they also know how to handle anything and will always come running if you call.
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if anyone needs help identifying things that can become moral scrupulosity OCD obsessions/compulsions, heres a list of some i've experienced:
rereading your posts/texts over and over
checking your notes and/or followers list frequently to "make sure" bad actors aren't interacting with you
checking OP's blog before interacting with posts
compulsively opening a social media tab to look at your notifs and then closing it, over and over
fearing ways that things you say/do (or don't do) could be taken in bad faith. being anxious that your words/actions will be misconstrued as morally wrong, bigoted, rude, or aggressive
feeling guilty or obsessing over whether you should or shouldn't have reblogged a post
feeling like you aren't "allowed" to disengage from online discourse or unfollow people who post it
fearing you're being stalked, talked about, or called out behind your back. fearing you'll never be forgiven and that people might even celebrate your disappearance or death, even though you havent done anything wrong
searching your own name/username to see if anyone is actually talking about you
imagining defenses you would make against nonexistent heinous accusations or arguments against you, to prove that you didnt do it
feeling like you have to roll over and become a doormat when others are cruel to you, because it could cause strife if you do anything other than grovel or apologize
having trouble enforcing your own boundaries out of fear that they are somehow "wrong" or unethical
ending up surrounded by people who have all the "right opinions" but are super mean and unpleasant, and make you feel like you have to walk on eggshells
fearing that just HAVING moral ocd makes you a bad person somehow (for example, i often fear that having moral ocd is somehow pushing a 'stranger danger' or misanthropist agenda, even though i actually have a lot of faith in my fellow humans)
some of these bullet points are not inherently bad on their own, but if you find yourself having this kind of anxiety very often, that's not normal, and it's time to get offline or even seek professional help if it's impacting your life
this list is catered to how online culture influences moral scrupulosity, it is not indicative of how everybody's moral scrupulosity functions, and it is not exhaustive
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Back at it again with my Danny is mom coded au’s, but this time it’s because of Clockwork that he suddenly has a whole ass teenage kid.
Clockwork had been bored or maybe he was playing a game against an opponent, or even lost a bet, whatever it was, he stepped in right as Jason was searching for his biological mother.
The DNA that would have registered itself as one Sheila Haywood, confirming Jason’s mother, glitched a terrible green across the screens of the batcomputer.
In those few moments of chaos Jason’s heart beat rapidly as he tried to figure out why the computer wasn’t working, wondering if his only chance to find his mom — his blood mom — would never find success.
Then as suddenly as things went wrong the DNA settled and pinged.
Jason watched, his chest tight, as one Danny C. Works, formerly Danny Fenton appeared onto the big screen.
Danny looked a lot like Jason, short cut black hair more straight than the subtle curls of Jason’s own; deep blue eyes, tired in a way that spoke of long days and nights, but with a warm happiness that made the familiar smile — the one Jason would see on himself every time he looked into the mirror — even more striking.
Jason didn’t linger too long on the male identifying gender, nor the fact his mom leaned more towards a masculine name or clothing.
There were plenty of male to female, and female to male leaning individuals that lived in Crime Alley. He had seen it enough to not even bat an eye at it, even now. After all, in Gotham you minded your business least you find yourself in business you can’t leave.
On a different monitor information of Danny C. Works piled for Jason to quickly browse through.
Danny was a senior engineer, no intimate relationships, and with no close connections to family outside of the tentative calls from Jasmine Fenton.
Danny was estranged from Jack and Madeline Fenton, a falling out that had occurred just a little before Danny’s high school graduation. If Jason calculated it correctly that would have been — around the season Jason himself would have been born.
Okay, so no grandparents then but I might have a maybe aunt. Jason scrolled further and stilled.
Twin toddlers: Dante and Danielle Works.
Jason had baby siblings.
He doesn’t let the sting of younger siblings consume him, doesn’t allow the whispering thoughts of why he had been given up when his younger siblings had been kept and so very obviously loved.
Jason took deep breathes, he didn’t have time to linger here. He had a family to get to, and a family he would get to.
It took almost all night to reach, the starlight night sky slowly and surely fading into cloudy wine as the sun rose, but Jason made it.
And when the door opened to his hesitant but firm knock, Jason was unable to speak. His mom — dad, maybe? Did they want to be mom or dad? — stood in the doorway, brows furrowed in confusion.
It was when Danny spoke his vigilante name did Jason only just realize that he was still dressed to the nine’s in his Robin costume.
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