#"letter

[cottaegecore]

- sylvia plath

[octoberloved]

[flowerytale]

Edgar Allan Poe, from a letter to Mrs. Maria Clemm, July 1849

[literaryvein]

L. V., excerpts from an unsent letter

[fernthefanciful]

Bruce pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes. He’s usually not one for such an open sign of distress, but he feels in this case it was warranted. And he was having such a peaceful morning, too.

“Did she just write ‘yeti doctor’?”

Bruce’s head snaps up at Steph’s voice, looking once again at the letter on the screen. “Dear Mister Wayne,” it reads, and that is where normalcy ends. “Thank you so much for taking in Danny, I was so worried when he had to escape our parents.” Which is already an extremely worrying sentence. Made even more worrisome with the fact that there is no Danny currently residing in his manor.

His family is in chaos. Tim has three screens in front of him, ranting about living firewalls to Barbara, while Dick leans over his shoulder.

Alfred has lifted a thick three-ring binder out of the care package that this Jasmine Nightingale has sent them, and is flipping through it. Apparently this binder contains all of the medical, psychological, and cultural information needed to make sure that Danny’s species can thrive. Because the missing teen that should be in his manor is not human, but some sort of human/ghost hybrid.

“Father, I think this warrants an emergency meeting with the Justice League.” His youngest says. “There is currently a government agency hunting Cujo and Daniel, citing laws that directly counter the Meta Human Protection Acts. This cannot stand.” Cujo, the green glowing, 10 foot ghostdog that delivered the package and letter this morning by density shifting into the dining room during breakfast. Damian was of course attached.

“Uh, Alfred?” Duke starts form where he and Jason have been emptying the care package, “there’s a huge first aid kit here, but most of it is glowing.” Jason, of course, is turning the high tech laser pistols over in his hands, getting a feel for the handling and grip.

Bruce let’s his eyes skim over the letter again, his eyes catching on words like “Ghost King”, “Infinite Realms”, and “vivisection”. “I know it takes Danny a while to open up,” the letter reads, “so I’m beyond grateful that he feels safe enough with you.” Except he doesn’t, because Danny is not here. Somewhere out on the streets of Gotham is a half dead teenager, hurt and alone. And Bruce didn’t know. Didn’t know any of it until his sister sent him a care package, because apparently this kid has lied to his sister that he’s safe, that he found somewhere to stay.

He doesn’t notice the sudden hush behind him until Jason breaks it. “Is that fucking Lazarus Water?!” Bruce lowers his head back into his hands.

“I will prepare a room for the young master.” Alfred sniffs as his footsteps go towards the elevator. “I’m finding this kid.” Jason answers, leaving towards the lockers “Wait, Little Wing! I’m coming with!” Well, at least Dick can hopefully keep Jason in line. He prays to Rao this doesn’t mean he has to deal with a half-ghost, immensely powerful teen that struggles with Pit Rage.

A small hand lands on Bruce’s shoulder. He looks up into the sparkling eyes of his daughter. “New brother”, she grins.

[theoptia]

Friedrich Nietzsche, from Selected Letters of Friedrich Nietzsche

[mournfulroses]

Franz Kafka, from a letter to Felice Bauer written in 1913, featured in Letters To Felice