not-so casual batman fan

Rules: keep your ai content/usage away, if you like batcest please don't send/request content of it, always reblog the tws

I HAVE AN OLD DOG AND I'M SCARED OF LOSING HIM STOP SENDING ME ASKS ABOUT DEAD/DYING PUPPERS

Odd One Out (original no pack au)

An Omega Without A Pack (elseworlds)

Some ficlets

Fic links to ao3

Fanarts (gifted)

Humans Are Space Orcs: JL Edition

Miscellaneous

Mini AUs

And then idk after that

Bruce can't bring himself to say anything. Dick handed Damian off to Bruce the first chance he got, ruffling the boy's hair and laughing "glad to be rid of you" as he headed out and Damian smiled at his back.

But...

Damian still doesn't really know how to act around Bruce. He was raised with the idea of The Bat, the one The Demon Head chased to be his heir.

He came to Gotham and was met with a grieving, fractured family, no Bat to be seen. Dick had admitted, as he and Bruce sat in the study, the lights low, untouched glasses of bourbon in front of each of them, that he too had talked Bruce up to the boy.

Then Bruce had come back.

And he cannot live up to any of Damian's expectations of him. The boy... Bruce loves him. Immesurably. It's peculiar, maybe, to say that when he has only known him a matter of months, but he remembers his grief ten years ago as Talia told him their baby died, he remembers sending her flowers on the anniversary every year since, and there is now a little boy in front of him, a receptacle for all of that love he had nowhere to put except an ex wife he did not want to burden with his grief.

He supposes they might both be looking for something in the other that isn't there.

Maybe that is why he doesn't say anything, the first few times he overhears comments about 'Nightwing's kid.' No one seems to notice him leave shortly after, so he just...keeps doing it.

Maybe that's why, when he sees Kon nudge Damian with his elbow at Nightwing's approach and tease "Uh oh, Dad's here", and he simply slips away, he doesn't realise how things unfold after his departure.

Going back to Jan 18th and May 2nd for these two, respectively.

The last part (links to the others there too)

Only a matter of minutes after leaving, Oswald slams back in the door, closing it again before he's even heaved his damn bulk in, flipping the locks over.

Harvey rolls off the bed, darting to the window, but shutters are already rolling down to cover the glass, and he only catches a glimpse of red before his view is obscured.

"You're out of time."

"Dammit!"

"They're here already?"

"The man has subdermal trackers, he's not hard to find!"

"What are our odds?"

"I have fifty men on the grounds, but with non-lethal action we're looking at maybe ten minutes before they breach."

"So fighting isn't an option."

"Not when we have him."

Pam winds her wrist, toying with a vine dangling from her vambrances. "Why can't we hand him over?"

"Good question!"

Harvey looks at the door, and Oswald leans back against it, frustration fluttering across his face.

Nightwing's voice is chipper, which never means anything good, and his presence means tripping the alarms was a ploy for Oswald to lead them to Bruce; they were already in the building.

"Open the door," Harvey orders, making calculations as quickly as he can. He darts away from the window back to the bed, and gestures for Harley to scram.

He slides a hand onto Bruce's ankle, squeezing gently, and watches as the door swings open.

Nightwing stands taught, the Signal by his side, and both creep into the room cautiously.

"You gonna hand him over?" Signal growls, fingers twitching towards his batons, and Harvey smiles pleasantly.

"Why would we do that?"

"Step away, Two-Face."

"Or what?"

Oswald raises his gun at the same time Red Hood does, and Harvey does not need to turn to look at the vigilante crouched in the pried-open window.

"Step. Away."

Harvey holds up his hands, stepping back, and perfectly on cue, right as Harvey intended, Bruce whines, the sound tearing through the room.

Hood leaps down, boots thudding onto the carpet, but when he reaches out, pressing a hand onto Bruce's shoulder, the omega arches away, trilling a pack call weakly. "Harley?"

Harvey watches as the three vigilantes exchange looks, and Signal slips closer, while Nightwing continues guarding the door.

"Bruce—"

The omega's growl interrupts him, and Bruce's heat-clouded eyes don't recognise his kids, seeking out pack. "Harvey? Uncle Oz?"

"Why would we hand him over," Harley drawls, eyes hard, "when he doesn't want you?"

"Shut up." Hood reaches out to the writhing figure, and Bruce's claws rake across his armour plates. "Bruce—"

The omega growls again, louder, and Harvey can't ignore his rioting instincts anymore, stepping back up, setting a hand on Bruce's arm. "I'm here, B. Breathe."

Harley is suddenly there too, clasping Bruce's hand. "Come back to us, B."

"What the hell is this?" Nightwing snarls.

"His pack," Oswald bites. "You are going to leave, and take all of the other brats with you, and Bruce will go back when he's good and ready."

"We're not leaving him with you."

Signal's assertion is quickly undermined.

"Yes, you are."

All three look at Bruce in shock, and the omega sits up slowly, getting some coherence back in those icy blues slowly, with the reestablishment of physical contact with his packmates.

"Go home, kids."

"B, they've drugged you, or something, come—"

"No, Dick. They are my packmates. You are not. Go. Home."

Hood rolls his shoulders back, and Harvey smiles at him sharply. "You gonna put an omega in heat in distress, huh?" Hood falters, and Harvey tilts his head. "Fuck off, Hood."

Nightwing touches his comm, and whatever he is told has him recalling the others with a scowl. Harvey doesn't relax even after they're gone, he knows Bruce will soon be reduced back to self-hatred, despising himself for being 'selfish' for once and choosing himself over rejection. He knows they're in for a long night.

But he still smiles as they leave.

Bruce is theirs.

—

I think I might end this here :)

-Made dick upset when calling him to come over for dinner, punishment no dinner for myself for a week. Edit: Dick wants me to call him over for dinner, new punishment punch punching bag until knuckles bleed

-Ran late to a meet with Tim and made him angry, punishment run laps around manor until I collapse

Etc etc

Except it all goes down hill the day of a family dinner. Bruce is trying so hard. He’s doing evrything everyone says. He feels exhausted and in so much more pain than usual. Someone’s yelling at him and he feels tears on his cheeks… tears he didn’t know he was crying. And collapsing apologising as he cries and his children gather around him on the floor. He’s unconscious and needs an IV for malnourishment.

The journal was on the night stand. They read it…

Pushing himself to the brink until he collapses, that's my kind of Bruce.

The batkids would be horrified, seeing how Bruce was treating himself for relatively normal conflicts between guardian and ward.

also pls more dad gordon, love that so much

whenever you have the chance if this is something u wanna continue, no stress

take care :)

Clark looks at his best friend. "B, do you have any good parental figures?"

Bruce stares at the manifestations of Alfred, Oswald, and Gordon, getting into an increasingly heated argument on the other side of the room.

"I mean...Ra's is technically my father in law?"

Alfred breaks away from the argument to glare across the room at Bruce, who shrinks in his seat. A hand snaps up, hitting the butler, and Oswald glowers at him.

"Leave the kid alone, Pennyworth. You don't have any right to get mad at the kid when you go around refusing to even label yourself family."

"Says the man that nearly killed him a month ago!"

Oswald looks away, shame-faced, and Alfred rounds back on Gordon. "You! If we are to talk about not accepting Master Bruce, I dare say that I am not the one at the top of the list."

A curl of smoke lifts from Gordon's cigarette, and he doesn't address Alfred's comment, still slumped on the floor like he has been since the reason for his spirit being yanked from Earth was revealed.

"You think of me like a parent, kiddo?"

Bruce looks away, and Clark puts a hand on his shoulder, stepping between him and the three men. "You want to head out? I'll babysit."

The vigilante just shrugs. "We don't even know how to send them away. The spell didn't exactly offer instructions."

"That doesn't mean you have to be here for...this." His brief hesitation gives time for the incensed argument behind them to filter back in, and Bruce grimaces.

"I probably do. Hey, Jim."

Clark's eyes jump up, finding Jim hovering behind Bruce, and the Commissioner edges around so the man can actually see him.

"Kid, I..."

"It doesn't matter."

"You think of me as yer dad?"

"I wouldn't feel too special," he grouches. "Clearly there's a lot of that to go around."

"Bruce." Gordon reaches out, putting a hand over his. "It's you. How could that not be special, huh?"

His attempt to pull his arm back is stifled, as Gordon tightens his grip. "We don't need to do this."

"I think we do. Bruce, kid. I love you, you know that? Yer a good kid. But I ain't a good dad."

"I think Barbara would beg to differ."

"Babsie...she know about this?"

"I never confirmed her hunch. But she's been after me to tell you."

"Well maybe you should've listened."

Bruce looks up, a cautious hope blooming in his chest. "Yeah?"

Gordon nods. "Yeah."

A bitter laugh interrupts the sweet moment. "Well if you've got the police commish to be your new daddy, I guess I'm not needed, am I?"

Bruce snakes his hand out of Jim's grip. "Uncle Oz."

"Heya, Chick." The old man waddles closer, hitching one leg up on the desk to half-sit on it. "I thought leaving you with the butler was the right thing to do, I should've looked closer."

Bruce wavers, but ultimately leans in, resting his head against the man's side. "Why didn't you?"

"I failed Tommy and Matty. We tried so damn hard to protect them, they were the only people this damn city didn't stain. And we... I failed them. Failed you."

"You didn't fail me when they died," Bruce corrects. "You failed me when you disappeared afterwards."

"Well. I could. Reappear?" Oswald's eyes flick to Gordon. "If your new Pa don't mind."

"Try me, Cobblepot."

"Bring it, Commish."

"Please don't," Bruce sighs.

"Alright," Oswald concedes, then sends a glare across the room. "But I don't promise to make nice with the butler."

"Nor I," Alfred sniffs. "Might I be excused, Master Bruce? This fiasco has certainly stolen enough of the day away already."

Bruce watches him sadly. "Yeah, Alfred. You can go."

"Then good day, sir."

In a blink, the butler disappears, and Gordon and Oswald quickly follow; there one second, gone the next.