Bruce Wayne

unlike most lifetime movies where similar scenes took place, not a lot hinged on greta discovering wether or not the man in front of her was her biological father. she was just going on a whim, impulsively investigating something she’d wondered about for years. but if it turns out it was some other rich dude in gotham who impregnated her mom, it’s no big deal. so she shrugs, like it’s nothing. ❝ then you’re not. i’m not looking for money or anything, ❞ she explains, the same deadpan expression on her face. ❝ i’m just curious. ❞ she reached inside her jacket, pulled out the picture of her mother she’d been carrying around and handed it to him. ❝ that’s my mom. her name was suzu. if you think she looks familiar, there’s a chance you might be my dad. if not, i can just go back home, i really like. don’t care that much if i’m honest. ❞

The woman was serious he apreciated that. Listening to her and then seeing a picture of suzu, a name he remembers only because she wasn’t the normal Gotham Socialite that he would normally take home, he had to admit Greta may be right. Suzu was in love with her music and passionate about it, and he does remember her, talking to her about the Martha Foundations Music Outreach at a quiet bar he had escaped into to avoid some paparazzi, waiting for Alfred to pick him up.  He’d have to go into his old records to see if there was anything like a phone number or if he wrote down something else about her. “Alright then, we can go to a doctors office this week and get a test done.” Looking back up at Greta, Bruce took a step back inside allowing her to come in if she wanted. “It’s an easy test, just a blood sample, but I’ll need some contact information.” 

“alright, let’s get this over with,” she turns to Bruce with an unceremonious guarded glare, “you tell me what I have to do to not piss you off and not get Batman down my fucking back,” she stops for a second, tipping her head as she considers the man in front of her, “….god, you’re still Batman this old? Isn’t a cane coming soon?” she doesn’t bother to keep the thought private, glaring at her father, though she wouldn’t call him that unless she had to. She wants to get this over with, she doesn’t want his disapproving stare as she always took it, she wants to go find Pam and Harley, anyone else. [ @bruceowayne ]

Bruce looked at her with an unreadable expression, letting her talk until she stopped. She just got out and was now on parole after her stint in Arkam. He was happy to see his daughter, missed her. Even if she didn’t want anything to do with him. “Don’t break the law.” He said with an even tone. That was it really, that’s all he ever really asked his kids to do, with certain exceptions when it came to hero work obviously. (And do their homework, but that was an Alfred rule.)

When he wasn’t being Superman — or as open as Superman was around members of the Justice League, and an even smaller handful of individuals outside of it  — it was exceedingly difficult to tell that he really was from a small, rural town. But, around people he trusts, Clark let the accent come out. It’s a definite plus that said accent usually manages to get a reaction out of Bruce.

“Naw, not entirely, which I imagine’s the same for you and Gotham, Bruce; I’ll go back an’ forth between Metropolis and Paragon as often as I can, of course. But, gettin’ to be closer to my kids and grandkids is a definite bonus. Seein’ all y’all more often and getting to teach a class are another two.” Clark retrieved the other cup of coffee and held it for a moment before he took a sip as well, then paused.

“I have to admit that I’m also curious about the rapid increase of petty crime at Paragon, as well.”

Bruce understood the want to be closer to family, that was why when Alfred ‘suggested’ he buy a vacation house out here and let people take more control of the day to day business of the company he agreed. “Teaching can be what you do Kent. Right now I just talk to the locals and act like I’m a CEO looking for a place to retire.”

The man let himself relax, talking about crime was always easier than family for the CEO. “The crime rate spiked almost in tune with the schools mutant meta rules.” Bruce commented with irritation. “Which doesn’t surprise me at all with who has ties to the school.” 

Artemis peers at him for a long moment more before sighing. For today, while she needed more, she’d accept in. In fact, he’d given her the perfect segway, “it’s going pretty well. Haley’s a lifesaver and keeping me from tearing apart magazines with my bare hands,” she smirks, “but I have to say, having you and Dick speaking would be great, considering he’s Wally’s best man,” she stops in front of him, syringe in hand, pointed look, “I’m not pretending to know everything about it, but seriously Bruce, you wanna just…. let your son fade away?” she scoffs, knowing his answer as she moves behind him, latex-covered fingers prodding expertly at his lower back, barely missing a beat, truthfully knowing it was better to go than to ask at this point. besides, he recognizes the movements by now. once she had the spot, she puts a flat hand to his back as she begins the injection.

He’d rather start talking about his physical pain again than this. Not only was she prodding at tender areas on his back but also on sensitive topics he didn’t really want to talk about. He could remain silent, he had the right, but a part of him remembered Dicks face in the gymnasium and made him think for a moment. He really didn’t understand why Dick was still upset about everything that went down, a completed mission that saved lives was the thing that drove Dick away. Staying silent for a while, Bruce didn’t speak until he felt the needle go in him.  “We talked.” he said, murmuring as he balled his hands into fists, focusing on that and the needle in his back than his actual words.   

she gives him a long look as she holds the syringe in one hand, the soon-to-be-contents in a small container in the other. it’s frustrating, seeing him in pain so much, “so, another band-aid then?” she asks pointedly, already filling up the vial. still, this time there would be no convincing otherwise. no, she needed Bruce on her side for what she eventually planned to ask. her eyes narrowed at his breath, “any other new injuries I should look at while we’re here?” she asks, placing the syringe on the tray and getting ready to sterilize the area.

“No.” He grumbled out, taking a slow and steady breath as he relaxed as best as he could. He had been in worse pain then this before, the years of being Batman had not been kind to his body. It was his best tool against crime in his city though, second only to his mind and Bruce had sworn long ago to do whatever it took to protect his city even if it caused him this much pain. “Hows the wedding planning?” He asked to get them off the topic of his health. 

It’s not that Dick thinks the man isn’t capable of being kind fo his children. That’s not it at all, of course. But he knows his kids aren’t entirely okay with Bruce, he knows there’s some hurt there that they haven’t been able to let go of - not that he blames them, of course. Unfortunately that means a meeting with Bruce could go badly. And these are his kids - of course Dick is going to try to protect them however he can.

He sighs and nods his head, not really sure of what else there is to say. What else can he say now? There’s really no sign that Bruce is ready to talk about this, or that he wants to talk about it, or that he even has any understanding that there’s something to talk about. And Dick is tired of having to be the one who steps up to make things right. Not this time.”Was there something else?” He asks with a raised eyebrow, not at all trying to be dismissive, just.. trying to give the man he prompt he might need. Assuming there’s anything else he wants to talk about.

It’s the raised eyebrow that makes Bruce want to start yelling at Dick.

You’re being ridiculous. It was for a mission, that went well and saved lives You needed to go and lay low 

I’m not the one who’s wrong here.

These were the things he wanted to say, and most he did say when this whole argument started. However 2 years of not seeing his first, the one who made him hopeful with a laugh and unwavering optimism every night when he thought hope could not come into Gotham unless it was through blood and harsh justice. Without Dick he would have never found Jason, without Dick he would have never thought he could ever be the man he was today. When Bruce had started this whole crusade he imagined himself alone forever, Dick changed everything.

Damian did sometimes think about how different his life would have been had he not been raised by his mother for the first ten years of his life, being around his dad and brother’s during those early years probably would have made him a different person. Damian didn’t live in the what if’s, there was no point in it, he couldn’t change his childhood, but he could make a promise to his own daughter that he’d be the best parent that he could. “You think so?”

“Yes.” Bruce answered his son, simply and with no hesitation to the answer. Going over to the desk in the classroom, Bruce went over and looked at all the papers on it. He knew his son was busy, and while he wasn’t 18 with a child and no idea what to do like Jason was, Bruce still wanted to at least give his son the same support and chance to have a break now and then. “ The vacation home I has a crib and some other things a baby needs in it.” He told Damian with the same tone he answered the young mans question with. In fact there was a fully functional nursery in the new house, Alfred had given Bruce a list of things to buy and build, along with a 24/7 camera watching the crib itself and a pressure plate hidden under the crib to warn anyone quickly if someone takes a child out of it. “If you need to have someone watch her, just call ahead to make sure I’m there.” 

marisol was having a good time at the festival. it was nice to just have a day to rewind and not have to worry about everything else. ( will she succeed in being a vigilante ? will she let her father and her family down ? will it be cut short because she couldn’t do it ? ) but today wasn’t a day to focus on the negatives. the ponies , for instance , were making her smile. as a child , she had wanted one. what kid doesn’t ? but not many have bruce wayne as their grandfather. so she asked. many times. marisol forgot about the anger inside of her. the anger reserved only for her grandfather. the way that he took her father from her and forced their family to implode. she hated herself for forgetting. “ so you’ll get a goat but not a pony ? “ her tone is lighter than she was expecting. you can’t stay angry forever. ( unless it’s at your mother who deserted you and your family. that anger can go on for forever. )

Deciding that not letting himself be known to her and sneaking around to avoid her was the cowards way out, but since he talked to Dick and had agreed that his kids had to come to him if they wanted to talk, Bruce came up with a simple solution. Going into the petting zoo, Bruce walked over to a couple of helpers who were tending to the pygmy goats close to the ponies. “Hello there!” He greeted them in his Brucie over the top fashion, dazzling them with a fake smile. “I was wondering if you could help me out, see my son had always talked about getting a goat for the family property to help with the overgrowth in places but I have no idea what kinda care they need!” @mariwing

Tender lumplings everywhere, life no fun without a good scare 

Bruce frowned at the music he could hear playing over some speakers as he sat down on a hay bale and sipped some hot apple cider with his cheap dollar pink wand sitting right next to him. Instead of patrolling Gotham tonight, he was spending time at Paragon, observing and hoping nothing bad happens here. Not what he wanted to do, but he was coherced into this by a very upset butler. Something about ‘not wanting another quiet Christmas this year’ and sending Bruce back to Paragon. He had a ‘Bluetooth’ headset in his ear, making it seem like he was waiting for a call, or just being pretentious, but in reality it was a link to Gotham's police scanner so if any Rouge were to pop up, he would be ready to go in minutes. “Jason” He murmured in greeting as he sipped his cider again, smelling his sons favorite kind of cigarettes before actually seeing the man himself. @ofjasontodd​

Dick’s been good at reading Bruce for a long time now. That’s one of the advantages of having known him since he was so young. He knows Bruce’s habits, his mannerisms, the way he acts and reacts. So it’s not hard to figure out that the man isn’t here just to watch him do something Bruce has done a thousand times before. Once upon a time, he might’ve even been able to tell where Bruce’s thought process was going next, but.. not anymore.

The question proves that, takes him by surprise. He turns to face the man, eyebrows raised, surprise and apprehension clear all over his expression, but.. at least Bruce is asking. He’s not just blindly charging into his children’s lives without asking, and after what Bruce had done to their family.. well, that’s more than he could’ve hoped for. “If they come up to you.” Dick repeats, emphasising exactly what Bruce was asking for here. If they come up to him, and only if they made that choice. He doesn’t like the idea, but.. he can’t stop them, Dick knows that. “Just.. be kind to them.” He doesn’t want to believe Dick would be cruel to his kids, but.. sending him away had been cruel to them. He’s not sure what to believe anymore. And he can’t admit it to anyone, but not believing in Bruce throws him for a loop worse than he ever expected it could.

Clark still remembered the promise he made to his Ma and Pa all those years ago, and reporting was a way to help his planet like Superman could not. There were other benefits to his work both at The Daily Planet and teaching, of course, but he hoped to instill the same passion in his students. “Oh!” Clark had heard Bruce walking up to his door, long before he had actually stopped in the doorway. But, he still liked to keep up the meek reporter routine. “Good mornin’, Mr. Wayne! What brings you to my — Oh shoot.” Upon standing, the journalist bumped his knee with his desk, and knocked over some pens.

The surprise and frantic movement slows to a stop, and his expression melts to a modest, but no less warm smile when the door closes behind the CEO, leaving the two relatively out of prying eyes. Clark rose from his chair behind his desk, and crossed the room until he’s standing before Bruce. The Kansas raised Kryptonian is still slouched, though less so now that the door is closed, and he slipped the glasses off and placed them so they would hang from the neck of his shirt for easy access just in case someone were to interrupt them.

“Been a while, ain’t it?”

Seeing Clark act as the bumbling reporter always made Bruce want to roll his eyes. The man had flown through an astroid field without getting hit once before. The CEO couldn’t really pass judgment on him though, seeing as he wasn’t a playboy or even liked hanging around rich people but he did it to keep appearances

Seeing as the glasses were now off, Bruce now openly scoffed at the country bumpkins slang. He was raised by a British butler and grew up thinking those words were a terror on the English language. “It has.” He said, setting down the cups of coffee and taking one for himself. Sitting down in one of the chairs next to the desk, he sipped on it as he regarded his fellow coworker in justice. “Metroplois too quiet these days that you needed some outside work?” 

as a doctor that had been in the game, there was no question that Artemis offered her medical services to her friends that needed a more private treatment strategy. Truthfully, she’d rather it be her treating the people she cared about as opposed to anyone else. once she got the text, the tray with the syringe had had already been prepped, and she opened the door, critical eye seeing it on his face without needing to ask: Bruce was in pain. she sighs, stepping aside and gesturing him in, closing the door behind him before she spoke, “get settled, take off your shirt when you’re ready,” she says simply, moving to wash her hands, “on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it? and remember what i said about sugar-coating it to me.”

Taking off his shirt would be the hard part of this experience. Grimacing, he walked over to the medical chair and sat in it before unbuttoning his shirt, leaving his jacket on as he did so he could just take it off in one movement. “Seven.” He told her, not wanting to talk and just get this over with. Taking a breath, he took off the jacket and shirt at the same time, releasing the breath in almost a jagged kind of way.

Damian watched as his father entered his classroom. He saw how he looked at the baby in his own arms, “Do you want to hold her?” In all of the years that Damian had known his father, he’d only seen him show this level of pure happiness around his grandchildren. “If she’s anything like me, we’ll have to start worrying about that way sooner than age seven.”

Looking at his son with a raised eyebrow, Bruce looked down at his grand daughter and took a hand out of his pocket slowly before he reached out to gently brush his hand over her head as not to startle Livia. “She might start up again if you move her.” He said factually, letting himself only be slightly disappointed with not holding the baby. Bruce didn’t want to say that if Damian had been with him, away from the pain and cruel first years of his life, he would have been raised the same way Damian will probably raise little Livia, with honest intentions to love and care for them any and every way they knew how. Those old thoughts stirred up memories that Bruce spent a long time trying leave in the past, where the mistakes he made concerning a woman he should have never trusted remain.  “She’ll be fine.” Bruce said instead with no room in his voice to sway his mind. 

his face was familiar, not because she’d seen it in person, as this was the first time he was ever in front of her. she’d seen it in pictures, newspapers, on tv — so she knew what to expect when he opened his door for her. now that there was only a few feet between them, she scanned his face for trances of her own, for any kind of hint as to whether or not he was her father, but came up empty handed. she was still too much like her mother to see anything of herself in anyone else. ❝ no, i don’t really know your kids. ❞ she knew of them, sure. some of them. couldn’t date nate lance-queen without meeting roy and jason at least once. not one to beat around the bush, she cut right to it. ❝ my name’s greta rathaway, and i think you might be my father. ❞

He had always heard of speculations and rumors about how mothers would accuse him of being the father of their child. It came with being rich, everyone wanted a try at the money he had if they were greedy and thought they could actually pull it off. However most times his lawyers took care of that without him even seeing the mother in question, let alone the kid. He had to admit, this was the first time a person came up too him and said they may be their child. Sipping on the coffee and debating for a moment, he decided not to slam the door on the young woman or tell her to go before he called the police. Her bluntness was refreshing to be honest, and he felt incline to see about this further himself.

“And if I’m not?” He asked, taking another sip of his coffee and leaning on the door frame, his body taking up so much space that it would block almost anyone from seeing inside.