brucedefender4eva

[brucedefender4eva]

A long time ago...

Bruce, the moment he sees little baby Tim with his bowl cut pushed back: Jesus, you got a fucking forehead on ya, dontcha kid? Wow, would you look at that thing?

Bruce: I feel sorry for you, you must get bullied a whole fucking lot

Tim: I’m being bullied right now

Bruce: Ya know where you get that forehead from? Your fucking daddy. You’re the spitting image of ya mom, but ya got your Dad’s big ass forehead

Jack, who is literally standing right beside Tim with the same hairstyle: Hey…

Tim, his forehead being poked by Bruce: … are you drunk?

Bruce, who is incredibly sober: Yes

Tim, in disbelief: …

Bruce: Don’t worry, kid, I’m sure you’re gonna grow into it or whatever

Bruce: And if ya don’t… well, bowl cuts can be your thing. Like… your signature style

Bruce: No one will steal it from you, trust me

Tim: I'm leaving now

Bruce: Sure, oh, but not that way. Jason and Dick are plotting in the corner and if they see ya forehead you'll never live it down

Tim: *big sigh before turning around and climbing under the gala food table*

Jack: ... I don't have a big forehead...

Bruce, stealing his champagne glass: Sure. If that makes you feel better. Hi Janet, it's soooo good to see you! *walks toward her, leaving Jack alone and rubbing his forehead*

[brucedefender4eva]

Bruce wakes up with the worst headache ever known to man, and all of his children are simultaneously in his room for some odd reason, which, as you can probably guess, does not help him in the slightest. Of course, it had to be today of all days, when he physically couldn’t tell them to shut up or redirect their chaos to something else.

Bruce lets out an inaudible groan as he hears Jason’s voice rise up to an indignant shriek, most likely protesting something that he most definitely did.

“Dickie.” Bruce’s voice crackles quietly, making Bruce wince. “Baby,” Bruce calls again, suppressing the cough that wants to rise up in his throat.

Dick, who is sitting next to him calmly (even though Bruce knows his firstborn is the person who most likely brought the chaos to his room so early in the morning), tilts his head. “Dad?”

“Take my card. Take your siblings. Go get breakfast somewhere, anywhere, and bring me back some food.” Bruce orders, trying to keep how miserable he was feeling out of his voice.

Judging from Dick’s face, he was failing.

“You doing alright?” Dick asked quietly, his eyebrow knit in concern, a look Bruce hates putting there.

“Yes, Birdie. Just a migraine.” Bruce reassures, reaching over and squeezing Dick’s hand lightly, and feeling the tension in his shoulders lessen just a millimeter from seeing Dick’s smile.

Dick rummaged through his bedside drawer, knowing exactly where he kept his wallet, and pocketed one of his many black cards. “Any meds you need me to pick up?”

Bruce tried to think and pull up a mental image of their medicine cabinet, but his head throbbed painfully, leading him to give up. “I trust your judgement.” He said simply, leaving it all in Dick’s hands.

Dick nods and squeezes his hand again, leaning over and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, just like Bruce had done ever since he was a child and had his own migraines. “We’ll be back, and we’ll be safe,” Dick says.

Bruce knows a promise when he hears one.

“I love you.” Bruce managed to raise his voice enough so all his children could hear as Dick ushered them out of his room, and from the sounds of it, threw Damian over his shoulder.

Bruce couldn’t help but smile as there were murmurs of agreement and scattered ‘love yous’ back before his room was once again plunged into silence and darkness, one of his children turning the lights off just as his door closed.

It’ll probably be a good day.

[brucedefender4eva]

Inherently, Thomas and Martha Wayne have to be good people. The story would not work if they weren’t good people. The tragedy of Bruce Wayne is that his parents were good people and were taken away from him and the world too early by a senseless and random act of violence. He wants no one else to suffer the same experience that he had.

This fact does not stop me from indulging in thoughts of these two being less than stellar parents. This does not mean that they weren’t ‘good people’, just that they didn’t know how to take care of a child. Especially a child like Bruce.

Realistically (even though nothing in the DC universe is realistic), it’s not out of the ordinary for rich people to not be that involved in their child’s life before they become useful to them and society. I’m sure they loved him, but whether or not they showed it is the question.

I read this fanfiction where Thomas used physical punishments on Bruce when he was a child, and Alfred (being an old, white, British man) did in fact condone it.

(Fanfic on Ao3- Not Always Kind by: IG33Y)

It’s not out of this world to believe that they could do this. Yes, they’re good people, but they’re also wildly out of touch with normal people due to how rich they are. And back in the day, physical discipline was more commonly accepted, or at least not discouraged.

It wouldn’t be considered physical and emotional abuse back then, especially in the rich circles where they ran.

You can look at it from an outside perspective and understand that what they’re doing is bad, but back then, it was probably just touching the line of ‘a little too much’ and nothing more.

If we add the very popular headcannon that Bruce is indeed autistic, it would factor into the discipline that Bruce could face from his father.

In my brain, Bruce inherited his autism from his mother, while his father is allistic.

Martha is a grown woman and has had a lot of time to carefully craft a perfect mask for her to use. Back then, and even now, being autistic was not seen as a good thing.

I believe Thomas would have been an open thinker, but sometimes you can’t help the way that you’re raised and how all of society, not just in Gotham, thinks bout autistic people. I don’t think Martha would ever fully unmask in Wayne Manor; it felt too dangerous. She might take down most of her obvious ones, but never fully, very often.

She loves Thomas, and he loves her completely, but they both believe that some things are better off buried forever.

Bruce is a child and doesn’t understand why everyone treats him badly for being different, making him 'act up’ even more. Thomas is a good man, and he wants people to know that he’s a good man; he can’t have his son ruining the Wayne reputation.

I think they truly believe that what they’re doing is good for Bruce and is helping him in the long run.

And Bruce has many complicated feelings surrounding his parents; those feelings are only exacerbated by the fact that they died so violently and in front of him.

If they were not the best parents, Bruce would feel guilty for even thinking about them in a bad light. And with how the media covered it, trying to say anything that contradicts how people perceive these rare, good, rich people would be social suicide.

I also think Bruce would have a lot of personal guilt when it comes down to it. He would be hesitant to even share a single bad thing that happened between him and his parents, and if he were, I have no doubt that Bruce would somehow twist the memory in favor of his parents and portray himself (a child) as being in the wrong.

While the kids will spout out a million times that Bruce is not their Dad (usually when they have a fight with him), they probably view these two as their Grandparents.

And with the help of the media, Bruce, Alfred, and literally everyone in the world would truly believe that Thomas and Martha are saints and died as such. Bruce would want to keep this illusion alive for them. Maybe if his kids believe it, he could, too.

I also like to believe that they were young parents and had Bruce when they were in their mid to late 20s. Bruce excuses everything they did by saying they were inexperienced and young (not giving himself the same grace).

Bruce would feel guilty for having any negative thoughts about them, telling himself that he’s tainting their memory and he shouldn’t speak ill of the dead.

A lot of the time, I see people write that Bruce’s mentors believe that he had a great darkness and evil inside of him. With this, I’m led to believe that Bruce believes that he at the very least deserved to be ‘abused’ (he doesn’t see it as abuse) and that his punishment for being an evil child was to see his parents' deaths.

I’m pretty sure it’s canon in every iteration, or I think it should be, that Bruce blames his parents' death solely on himself since he wanted to go to the movies for his birthday. This would only solidify in Bruce’s mind that he was the one reason his parents were taken from the world, further leading him to excuse every action that they did.

Just like in the fanfiction, I believe that Alfred would have condoned this kind of behavior. He seems like the type to believe that physical discipline is good parenting and a must to rein in your more rowdy children. And even if he didn’t, he was the help; there was nothing that he could do.

While Martha and Thomas would never, if Alfred ever took his concerns to the police, then they could simply make it go away, and Alfred as well.

Alfred is a very strict man who has a bountiful collection of flaws that the fandom and even comic writers decidedly ignore. There is a line drawn in the sand by Alfred himself that stops their relationship from developing further.

Bruce and Alfred may see each other as family, due to the lack of anyone else ever being there for Bruce in his childhood, but Alfred actively pushes the narrative that he is only the Wayne butler and that he cannot have a deeper kind of relationship with Bruce. His words are contradicted by his actions, but hearing that constantly from the only adult around you must have been mentally taxing.

Now, I don’t really know anything about Leslie and the few fanfictions that she shows up in (very, very, very few), but she is always portrayed as Bruce’s maternal figure, just like Alfred is his paternal figure.

Already in those fanfictions, she is written very no-nonsense and straight-edged, just like Alfred is mostly written.

Then I read this post, and I just… it seems like every adult in Bruce’s life failed him as a child and then made him feel as though it was solely his fault as an adult

A lot of the time, especially on AO3, people only tag ‘Alfred Pennyworth is not a Saint’ when they’re already ragging on Bruce. It’s as if the two must go hand in hand, like Alfred is only a bad person when Bruce is a bad person, and that’s only half of the time. Most of the time, Alfred isn’t mentioned at all, or even if he is, he is still seen as this overarching power and wonderful person by everyone in the universe

I’m not saying Alfred is a bad person, but I’m not saying he’s the best person in the entire world. Which is never shown in fanfiction unless it's an AU where they take it over the top and Bruce and Alfred are actively trying to kill the kids or something wildly out of character.

It seems as though people use Alfred solely to pick on Bruce and point out the flaws in him. They write Alfred as this higher authority who is all-knowing in parenting and is always right, no matter what. It’s very tiring.

And even then when they do write that Alfred is not a saint it’s more because he’s a passive observer of Bruce’s and that’s his only fault, not that he is also a perpetrator. Which, I think is not enough. Either Alfred is the good grandpa who fixes everything or he’s the bad guy who stays silent.

Whilst indulging in the thoughts of Thomas and Martha not being the best, I think Alfred would be heavily on their side because he was hired by them. It’s his entire livelihood, and he’s not going to stand up to his employers just because they treat their son a little less than ideally in his eyes.

This also makes me want to indulge in thoughts of Alfred not actually being all that close to the Waynes.

Sure, I like reading PennyWayne fanfictions as much as the next person, but I think it would be interesting if Alfred actually wasn’t that close to the family, or was close to Thomas and Martha but didn’t really care for young Bruce.

Whether purposefully or intentionally, depending on which scenario you take, Alfred could have been manipulating young Bruce into believing that his parents were better people than they actually were.

I’ve always believed that Bruce doesn’t remember every single detail of that night correctly, which makes a lot of sense because it was incredibly traumatizing, and he was so young.

My personal headcannon is that it wasn’t Martha’s pearl necklace that he saw scattered across the pavement in the alleyway. Everyone knows authentic pearls are strung together individually, so if the string breaks, the pearls won’t spill onto the ground.

I think Martha was shot in the face that night. Instead of it being her pearls, it was actually her teeth being exploded from her face and falling directly in front of Bruce, but he just couldn't comprehend it. Bruce’s brain tweaked the memory so it was slightly less traumatic, and he wouldn’t snap completely.

Anyways, just some thoughts on how interesting it would be if more fanfic writers decided not to make Thomas and Martha perfect, ya know? This got away from me and I just wanna post it now cause it’s been sitting in drafts for a long time lol. Forgive the mistakes.

[brucedefender4eva]

Bruce: I was planning my suicide again when my period came lol. Thats what I get for taking my T-shot irregularly

Tim: Omggg!! Me too! Twinsies!

Bruce & Tim high-five

[brucedefender4eva]

“So… Dick…”

Dick raised an eyebrow, stuffing the rest of Bruce’s homemade brownie into his mouth and looking over at his best friend. “Yes… Wally…?” Dick mocked, chuckling to himself.

“Bruce… is, like, in a relationship? Right?” Wally asked slowly, very pointedly, not looking at Dick, no matter how much the acrobat tried to grab his attention.

Dick’s was already twitching. Wally knows how unhappy he is about Bruce being in a relationship. “Yeah…? Walls, where is this going?”

“Is your mom happily in a relationship, or just in a relationship?” Wally wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"...What the actual fuck did you just say to me?" Dick asked quietly, slowly standing up from his position on the floor and towering over Wally, who was still sprawled out on their couch.

“Nothing!” Wally exclaimed nervously, holding out his hands in front of him. “Just a joke! Poor taste… please don’t hurt me.”

"You better watch yourself, Wallace." Dick hissed lowly, grabbing Wally by his collar and holding him very close. "Kori and I would still be very happy in a relationship with just two people."

Wally squeaked, caught between feeling terrified and slightly turned on. "... Kori agrees with me. He's a certified MILF," he whispered, which was obviously the wrong thing to say at the moment.

Dick's scream of rage was heard throughout his entire apartment complex, and Wally was very glad he was gifted with the power of superspeed. It was inevitable that Dick would find him eventually, but running to Antarctica would surely slow him down.

Right?

——

“Hey, Cass!” Cass set down her gym bag and turned to face the other dancers in the ballet classes she was taking for fun at a local center that was up-and-coming.

“Morning. Did you all get the routines down? I had a little trouble on the jumps.” Cass made herself giggle softly, and by the sounds of the other girls talking and giggling as well, she was nailing this small talk thing.

It had taken some trial and error to realize that a lot of people don’t like ‘bragging’ even if she wasn’t bragging. She had no trouble with the jumps. In fact, she had memorized the entire routine the first time the instructor went over it, but societal norms prevented her from stating that.

“Anyways… Cass. Are you, like, being picked up by your Dad again today?” Michelle, a woman Cass thinks uses the word ‘like’ a little too much, twirled her hair around her finger. The rest of the girls and guys giggled as they stared at Cass, awaiting her answer.

Cass cocked her head to the side, not understanding why they were all suddenly interested in who she was being picked up by.

“I don’t think so. He’s busy.”

A mix of groans and complaints filled the hall as all her classmates turned to each other in disappointment, which was confusing for Cass. Why would they care who was picking her up in an hour and thirty minutes?

“Damn, I was really hoping to get the chance to talk to your hot Dad.” Kyle, another classmate, groaned and clicked his tongue in disappointment. There were loud murmurs of agreement.

Cass blinked. "What?" She asked.

Maybe it was the tone of her voice, the expression on her face, or the way she tilted her ear closer as if to hear her classmates better.

"Uh... I think class is starting."

Cass stared at the backs of her retreating classmates, making a conscious effort to restrain her bloodlust.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.

——

"Oh, Bruce was over at Ollie's mansion yesterday," Roy mentioned, tossing a handful of caramel popcorn into his mouth as he eyed Jason moving around his kitchen like he owned the place.

Jason hummed absentmindedly, completely focused on the new smoked salmon recipe he was trying out. "Yeah... I think he mentioned business or something. I wasn't really paying attention to what the old man was saying." A loud sizzle and the opening of cabinets. "Did you move the paprika?

Roy shrugged. "Hey, it's basically your kitchen. I don't touch anything in there." Jason muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'Damn fucking right it's my kitchen' as he continued opening and closing drawers and whatever else.

"So anyways..." Roy continued slowly. "I saw your Dad swimming around in the indoor pool and stuff." Roy could feel his cheeks heating up, going back and picturing Bruce slowly rising out of the pool wearing only one of Oliver's Speedos (disgusting on Oliver, not so much on sexy Bruce Wayne), water cascading down his muscular bare chest.

Jeez, did he forget to turn on his air conditioner?

"Has he always been so... ya know?” Roy probably should have stopped when he no longer heard any sound from the kitchen.

“Like…?”

“Well… DILFy…” Roy continued, like the idiot that he is. “I mean, everyone’s seen what he looked like when he was younger, which was hot as hell, don’t get me wrong, but I feel like he’s only getting better with age,” Roy said, looking up only to see Jason staring at him with barely contained rage.

"Get out," Jason ordered icily, brandishing his spatula like a weapon. Considering who trained him since childhood, Roy wouldn't be surprised if Jason did know how to use it like an actual weapon.

"Uh, Jay, I don't know if you remember, but this is my apartment-" Roy was cut off by his own butcher's knife being embedded in the wall right beside his ear.

Jason had thrown the knife so close that loose strands of hair drifted down onto the couch from where he had been unwillingly given an impromptu haircut just off the side.

"Or I could leave."

——

“… so fucking hot…”

“… I know right…”

“… have more…?”

“… fucking duh…”

Tim pulled down his headphones and looked over Kon and Bernard, who were staring intently at Kon’s phone.

“Hello? Are you guys on Insta looking at hot guys or something? What’s going on?” Tim chuckled and immediately stopped when he noticed the guilty expressions on their faces. “Now way… seriously?”

"Well... It's not Insta..." Kon coughed and handed his phone over to Bernard, who was decidedly not looking Tim in the eyes. “Tim… you know how your Dad came over to the farm to ‘destress’ from Gotham life for a bit?”

Tim raised an eyebrow and slowly shut his computer, giving his boyfriends his full attention. “I wouldn’t say he was de-stressing from Gotham necessarily, but yes, go on.”

Kon played with the spiked cuff on his wrist and pursed his lips. “Bruce insisted on helping around the farm even though Clark and Pa said he didn’t have to…”

Tim waited. “And?”

“And he was super fucking hot!” Bernard blurted out, his cheeks flushing a bright red as Tim’s head whipped around to look at him.

“What?!”

“Look! Kon took a bunch of pictures!” Bernard shoved Kon’s phone into his hands, batting away Kon, who was trying to snatch it away.

Tim was in complete disbelief as he scrolled through pictures and short videos of his father walking around shirtless, sweating, and hauling heavy things.

“You-! You-!” Tim sputtered, holding Kon’s phone above his head before hurling it down to the ground and watching it shatter. “Perverts.” Tim hissed, grinding his heel.

“Babe.” Bernard tried, moving closer then holding his hands up as Tim hissed louder.

“Get away from me!” Tim gathered the broken pieces of the phone, intent on throwing them into a blazing fire and destroying all those… pictures of Bruce. “And stay away from my mom!”

Kon winced as Tim ran out of the room, wishing he didn’t have super hearing. “Oh wow… those are a lot of… descriptive torture methods. And curses…” Kon took in a shaky breath and turned to Bernard with a crooked smile. “I think we fucked up.”

“Oh, do you? Do you think we fucked up by thirsting over Tim’s admittedly stupidly sexy Dad/Mom? Just start ordering Tim’s favorite chocolates.”

——

“Your Dad’s so cool, Damian…”

“I will stab you right now. Don’t fucking test me, Kent.”

Jon got over his kiddie crush very quickly…

——

Alfred gracefully sipped on his tea, watching as the other ‘grandparents’ milled around and conversed with each other.

It was a meeting of ‘the help’ from wealthy families that somehow, over time, became family and unofficial parents and grandparents. Good ones and otherwise.

“Oh, and how’s little Brucie?”

Alfred looked up from his tea (subpar at best) and smiled politely at the nanny from the influential Korden family. “Master Bruce is as well as ever. Implementing new technologies to help Gotham has him at the business for longer, but it’s nothing he can’t handle.”

“Poor pitiful child.” Another man cooed. Alfred didn’t know him; his family simply wasn’t important enough.

“Yes, yes. What he needs is a partner to set him straight.” Another portly woman butted in, her small purse stuffed to the brim with scones and biscuits. “When is he going to settle down, Pennyworth? He's getting up there in age, soon he won't be as attractive to potential suitors.”

Alfred felt his eyebrow twitch, but he was a man of grace, no matter what Bruce said or had witnessed in the past. “Master Bruce is currently in a relationship-“

“Oh, come off it!” A man laughed, slapping Alfred on the shoulder, causing Alfred to have to fight to control his facial expression of disgust. “You know what we mean! Proper folk. One of ours.”

“Oh! If I were a few years younger! I wouldn’t let him say no!” An old man wiggled his eyebrows lewdly, causing the women around him to titter and giggle in agreement.

“Alright.” Alfred set down his cup and smiled thinly. “Even if you were the same age as Young Master Bruce, I doubt he’d want anyone with such a disgusting personality,” Alfred said, ignoring the shocked and offended gasps.

“Like I’ve said, he’s in a relationship. Your opinion on this relationship means absolutely nothing. You need the Wayne family, not the other way around.” Alfred sneered, happily turning his nose up at the other attendees.

“You in particular, watch your fucking back.” Alfred snarled at the older man who had spoken about dating Bruce himself. “I will take care of you personally. There is nowhere you can fucking hide where I won’t find you and beat you till an inch of your life.”

“Well- well, I’d never-!”

“That’s right! You’d never! The lot of you are just a bunch of-!”

Alfred walked out of that sad little meeting hall with his dignity intact and his knuckles bruised, which he hid expertly underneath his crisp white hand gloves.

“How distasteful.” Alfred sniffed, dabbing at a splotch of blood that landed on his lapel.

——

“Huh…”

All the Batkids looked up at the same time while Alfred continued to pour Bruce’s tea.

“It’s just… none of your friends have been over for quite a while,” Bruce said thoughtfully, staring at his children’s faces. “And you haven’t been going to your tea meetings, Alfred. Don’t tell me… You had a falling out?” Bruce asked, frowning in concern.

“Uh… Roy is busy with Lian.” Jason shrugged, glad he had an easy excuse.

Dick chewed on his waffle with a stiff expression before relaxing into an easy-going smile. “Kori’s off world for a bit and Wally is… dead.”

“What?”

“Dead asleep from how much crime is going on in Central City! Haha…” Dick forced out a laugh and stabbed his next waffle with more force than necessary, making all his siblings flinch and Bruce look more concerned. “He’s just busy heroing Dad.”

“…okay…” Bruce said slowly, reaching over and patting Dick’s hand before looking over at Damian and Tim. “So?”

“Kon and Bernard are… having their own dates together. Ya know, having time for each other or something.” Tim shrugged, shrinking down in his seat with a scowl on his face.

“Jonathan knows what he did,” Damian said simply, leaving it at that.

“Right… and you, Alfie?”

“No comment.”

Bruce raised an eyebrow and dropped a few sugar cubes into his tea. “No comment?”

Alfred stayed silent for a second longer before letting out a rough sigh. “I simply realized the company that I keep can be… a little too rowdy.”

“Yeah sure.” Bruce rolled his eyes, already knowing all of Alfred’s tells for his lies. “Well, you should invite them over. Oh, we can have a pool party sometime this week. It’ll be fun!” Bruce clapped his hands and smiled at his kids.

“Oh, Bruce-“

“I dunno if-“

“Well-“

“Master Bruce-“

“Let me rephrase,” Bruce said, holding up a hand and stopping everyone from speaking. “You will invite your friends whom you spent so many years complaining, griping, and whining that I wouldn’t let you reveal your identities to over. And you will have fun at this pool party next week.” Bruce said softly, causing a chill to run down everyone’s spine. “Understood?”

“Yes…”

“Alfred, I can’t force you to bring those snobs that you hang around with for some reason, and if you’ve somehow discarded them, you will be getting new friends.” Bruce narrowed his eyes as Alfred opened his mouth to speak. “Yeah, you don’t get a say in this. You’ve forced me through the years to put myself out there and make friends because socialization is a need. I’m simply returning the favor.”

Alfred closed his eyes for a second before opening them and looking down at Bruce with a slightly annoyed yet resigned expression. “Of course, Master Bruce.”

“Great!” Bruce smiled brightly. “Now, I’ve got a date in an hour, so I have to get ready!” Bruce grabbed his cup of tea and walked upstairs happily.

The dining room was silent until they heard Bruce’s door close.

“I will not let those… perverts, around Baba.” Damian hissed, clenching the butter fork in his hand dangerously.

Dick stood up slowly from his seat, making his siblings and Alfred look at him. “No… we invite them. But-“ Dick’s eyes gleamed evilly, “we make it very clear what will happen if any, and I mean any, certain comments are spoken.”

There was a nod of agreement. “Alright, let’s do this,” Jason said, also standing up, a determined look in his eyes.

“Good luck,” Cass said grimly, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her contacts. She didn’t expect anyone from her ballet class to come, especially after she made it very clear she wouldn’t accept any comments about her Dad, but she would see about the Birds of Prey. That was tough in itself.

“Don’t look at us like that, Alfred,” Tim said. “This is some serious shit.”

“Just… don’t kill anyone. Your father will be very disappointed.”

“No promises.” They chorused, leaving the dining room to make their calls.

[brucedefender4eva]

When there’s a post about Bruce being a good Dad someone will be in the comments lurking like

Oh what if it Bruce actually didn’t do this and it was Jason or Dick or literally anyone else doing this instead

Like, nooooo

Stop hijacking posts to parentify the other siblings. There a literally millions of posts like that, this one of for Bruce

Lookie, Batman made Robin a sandwich

Well actually is was Jason/Dick dressed up as Batman because Bruce said no-

Noooooo

Oh look, Bruce is bonding with Damian because that’s his kid!

Well actually it’s Dick because Bruce-

Noooooo

Look it’s Bruce and Tim and the writer decided not to use one of the many uwu Tim tropes and make him normal!

Well actually Jason basically adopted Tim-

Noooooo

I’m just so tired of it

[brucedefender4eva]

Polytrix and their boytoys <3

Mira likes to make Romance and Abby kiss while she watches and orders them around, Jinu can never say no to Rumi no matter the request, and Mystery will do anything to be called a good boy

Baby likes to join in on occasion or not, he does whatever he wants

I just loved the movie so much…

OF COURSE THE GIRLS KISS TOO that’s what I put polytrix. I want to make that known

And the Saja boys kiss each other. Everyone’s kissing everyone

[brucedefender4eva]

<1>. <2>. <3>. <4>. <5>. <6>. <7>. <8>. <9>.

Bruce blinked, startling out of his book as he felt a familiar presence standing above him as he was laid down comfortably on his couch. Duke was standing above him with a grin on his face, waving down at the man and pulling out his earphones.

“Whoa, sorry B-man, didn’t mean to startle you.” Duke chuckled, holding up a pastry and a cup of coffee as a peace offering.

Bruce chuckled softly and shut his book, getting up from his reclined position on the couch and patting the leather cushion beside him. Duke flopped down beside the man with a small "oomph" and handed over the pastry.

"I thought you were hanging out with your siblings? What are you doing back so early?" Bruce questioned, pulling out a chocolate eclair and raising an eyebrow at Duke.

"Hey, Dick told me they were your favs. If you don't like 'em, blame him and not me. It got a little too crowded at the cafe, so I decided to bounce." Duke shrugged, taking a sip of Bruce's coffee before scrunching his nose in disgust and setting it down. "Gross. I can never understand how you drink black coffee."

"I don't drink it for the taste, only its ability to keep me awake." Bruce chuckled, handing Duke a napkin to wipe his mouth with. "And eclairs? I don't mind. It's more of an inside joke between the two of us."

Duke nodded in understanding, leading the two to sit in silence for a while.

Duke hesitated for a second, turning over what he wanted to say in his head for a bit, before deciding to just spit it out. “You’re a good Dad Bruce. You try… really hard, and I think that’s the most important part of being a good Dad.”

Bruce blinked in confusion, his nose scrunching up as he stared at Duke. “But… I’m not your Dad?” Bruce said slowly as if Duke could somehow forget that little tidbit.

“Yes, I know- ugh” Duke groaned and put his head in his hands. “Fuck, they were right. This is hard…”

“Who was right? About what?”

“Bruce, you dense fool.” Duke shook his head, ignoring the offended expression on Bruce’s face. “You are… a very important parental figure to me. You’re not my Dad, you’re not my mom, but you are important.”

Bruce just chuckled and shook his head, taking another bite of the chocolate eclair. “Alright Sunshine. Whatever you say.”

Duke narrowed his eyes. "You're very important," Duke said again, carefully watching Bruce's facial and body expression. "I, and everyone in this house, care about you. I love you lots, Bruce." No matter what Duke said, Bruce just looked like a single word wasn't getting through to him. Just like the others had said.

"Why don't you believe us when we say we love you?" Duke huffed out in frustration, grabbing what little was left of Bruce's pastry and throwing it down on the coffee table, forcing the older man to actually look at him.

Bruce let out a sigh as he looked Duke in his eyes, searching for something and frowning as if he couldn't find it. "Are... are you having a prank contest with your brothers?" Bruce dug his nails into the palm of his hands as he frowned harder.

“A prank-!”

“Or maybe a competition to see who can pull a reaction out of me?” This was said as Bruce bit the inside of his cheek, chewing on his flesh and letting go just before he started bleeding.

If Duke had longer hair, he’d be pulling it out in frustration. “Bruce-“

“Oh… I understand.” Bruce breathed out quietly, a soft look in his eyes as he gently took Duke’s hand into his own. For a second, Duke naively believed that Bruce did understand. “Duke, I don’t know what may have happened, but no matter what, I’m happy to continue fostering you until you want to leave.”

“Until I want to…?”

“You don’t have to worry about me kicking you out or some other ridiculous notion. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want until you inevitably become sick of me.” Bruce smiled softly, gently patting Duke’s hand. “Jason did the same thing when he was younger, trying to use sweet words as a way to convince me not to ‘return him’. His words, not mine.” Bruce chuckled.

Duke simply just stared at Bruce, unable to come up with a single thing to say.

“I know-“ Bruce let out a harsh huff, his face twisting into the self-deprecating expression that Tim told him to watch out for, “I know that I’m the reason why you’re here in the first place. Why you can’t be with your parents. I know you must resent me for that, you have to hate me.”

Oh.

“And I’m okay with that. I deserve to be hated for taking away your parents.”

Oh no.

“But no matter what, I’m going to love you and see you as one of my own. After all, you fit right in. Everyone in this family has a valid reason to despise me.” Bruce laughed, like it was funny, like somehow Duke was supposed to agree with the bullshit spouting out of his mouth. “It’s a bit cowardly of me to think you’d allow me to love you. Selfish…” Bruce whispered the last word, pulling his hands away and once again digging his nails into the palm of his hand.

And really who was Duke to judge? Wasn’t he even more of a coward by not being able to say a word against Bruce? To comfort this man who so generously decided to open his home, his life, and his love to a stranger?

Duke’s eyes focused on a singular red crimson drop slowly making its way down from Bruce’s clenched fist and splattering on the couch. Alfred would throw a fit later.

He wanted to surge forward, take Bruce’s hand, and stop him from hurting himself any further. But he was stuck. Frozen with the weight of the guilt Bruce has decided to put on his own back.

“You don’t have to bring me pastries and coffee, you don’t have to sit and talk with me, and I especially don’t want you to think that you have to lie and say you love me.” Bruce smiled stiffly, patting Duke once on the back with his other hand and pressing a kiss to his forehead before standing up from the couch.

“Alright Sunshine, I’ve got some work to do in the cave. I’ll see you later?” Bruce nodded, not waiting for an answer before leaving the living room.

Duke blinked and glanced over at the half-eaten eclair before snatching it and shoving the rest in his mouth. “Shit.” Duke cursed, crumbs flying everywhere. “Of course, he blames himself for my parents… I'm a fucking idiot.”

Duke groaned and scrubbed his eyes, willing away the familiar pressure of tears before whipping out his phone and texting the group chat that excluded both Alfred and Bruce.

Gotham’s Nightlight: Guys… I think I made it worse somehow…?

[brucedefender4eva]

Hello! I don't want to sound annoying, since apparently your last post about this was May 16th, but, would you ever give a sequel to your NeglectedBruce AU?

Soon… *ominous*

[brucedefender4eva]

*New Justice League member who has been annoying Batman by being an asshole or just incompetent*

Them: So? Are you gonna give me tips or what? I’m basically the future of the heroing community.

Batman: Yes, I actually do have ‘office hours’

Batman: They’re from 4:40 to 5:00

Batman: But don’t come within the first or last 10 minutes. I won’t have time for you

Them: But-

Batman: No more talking, this is not in my allotted time *leaves*

[brucedefender4eva]

When Dick was a teenager and at odds with Bruce, he tried to get a piercing as a form of rebellion. He heard from his friends that their parents totally flipped, so he got himself an earring.

Blue, gaudy, and bedazzled.

When he showed up to the manor with it, he made sure to strut in front of Jason and pretend he didn’t care that his little brother was practically fawning over how cool he looked.

The moment Bruce came into the room, Dick was expecting a huge confrontation and a yelling match, like his friends had all said would happen.

Instead, Bruce lit up and smiled at Dick before leaving the room in a hurry.

Jason and Dick exchanged confused glances before Bruce came back holding a picture and beaming proudly.

The picture is of teen Bruce with a whole bunch of piercings, looking like an ethereal vampire. Snake bites that made it look like he had fangs, industrial, lobe, septum, bridge, etc. Just a lot.

The boys are slack-jawed at their Dad looking like that while Bruce is fondly telling him about all the piercings he had and how he wished he had more, but Alfred wouldn’t let him

“I also had a belly piercing. Ollie convinced me to get that one back at boarding school.” Bruce said wistfully, reminiscing about his intense goth era when he didn’t have to worry too much about public perception.

Dick is mortified because for more than half a second he actually thought his Dad was super cool again. Jason is ooh-ing and awe-ing at the picture.

When Dick does back his apartment, he considers taking the piercing out and letting the hole close up, but he feels slightly bad since Bruce was trying to connect with him.

[brucedefender4eva]

Here, a continuation for this post. I didn’t know y’all would hate it that much lol! Apologies, apologies m(._.)m

This was my explanation for it incase you wanted to read that

——

When Dick finally found Bruce, Bruce was silently lying on the floor of the cave. The lights were off, his eyes were closed, and Ace was resting his head on top of his Dad’s chest.

Dick padded over softly, feeling like he was nine years old again and didn’t know how to talk to Bruce.

“Dad…?” Dick whispered, it felt wrong to try and speak at a normal level. Bruce let out a soft hum and cracked his eyes open as Duck kneeled down beside him.

“Hi baby…” Bruce croaked, his voice sounding raw and broken. “How are you?”

Dick gave a crooked grin and laid down beside his Dad, melting as Bruce’s hand gently started to run through his hair. “Better than you, it seems… it was a crazy last week, huh?” Dick began, expecting Bruce to tense up and start deflecting.

“Yeah…” Bruce sighed, staring up unblinkingly at the cave ceiling. Ace let out a soft whine and wiggled his wet nose under Bruce’s chin, drawing him out of his thoughts. “I… I’m sorry… Sometimes… sometimes I can’t understand you or your siblings.”

Dick blinked as his heart started racing. “What? What does that mean?”

Bruce let out a huff of air, like he was trying to carefully pick out the words that he wanted to use. “You don’t like it when I coddle you or I’m overbearing, right?” Bruce felt Dick nod against his shoulder. “But… sometimes you do? I just don’t- I don’t understand when I’m supposed to.”

“Last week… I ignored your leg after we got back from patrol. I’m sorry that was wrong of me to do.” Bruce apologized, leaned over and pressing a soft kiss to Dick’s forehead. “Last month, you got mad at me for fussing over a stab wound… so I thought… I thought it was the same? I didn’t want you to yell at me. I didn’t want to have another argument.”

“I was scared that you were hurt and would be mad if I tried to help, so I went… cold. I know it ended up being a light sprain, but… I-I did want to help.” Bruce’s voice hitched, making the back of Dick’s eyes burn with tears. “But… but you were angrier? O-or sadder? I don’t know. I don’t understand, and I know you’re probably not making it difficult on purpose, but it’s so hard.”

If there’s one thing that could make Dick cry in a second, or even less than that, it’s seeing or hearing his Tati start to cry.

Dick turned his head and buried his face in Bruce’s shoulder, silently glad that his Dad decided to wear one of his softer sweaters that could absorb his tears.

“I’m sorry too, Tati. I… I came looking for a fight, and I took unnecessary risks on patrol just to get you riled up so I could let off some steam. I didn’t even have a real reason to be angry with you last week… I just-”

“Some days… I feel like I’m coming out of my skin. And it’s weird, I just, don’t wanna be perceived by others…” Bruce stayed silently, and once again Dick was glad his Dad let him take his time and try and sort out his thoughts. “Your gaze is heavy, it’s always been heavy.”

“…heavy?”

“Mhmm… like… I know you expect great things from me. And I love that you know that I can achieve them. But sometimes-“

“It’s too much, and you feel like your failures are magnified the moment you make one little mistake?”

“Yeah… how did you know that?”

“Alfred… he’s the one who raised me. I guess I took a bit more of his parenting than I thought.” The two stayed silent for a while, Bruce still running his fingers through Dick’s hair while his son absentmindedly scratched Ace behind the ear.

“I’ve never noticed.”

“Good. I’ve never wanted you to. You needed someone in your life that you could turn to other than me, I’m glad it was Alfred.” They lapsed into silence once more.

“I, of all people, know how hard it is to ask for… affection. Maybe… we could have a code word?” Bruce suggested hesitantly. “Just so I know it’s okay to hover. Or maybe one, so I know you actually want to be left alone?”

Dick couldn’t help but smile. “Yeah… we can work it out. Later though, I’m feeling drained from all this… emotional talking.”

“Ha, yes. I completely understand, especially with the way you cried.” Bruce teased lightly, poking Dick on the cheek.

“Wha- you cried first!” Dick protested, a laugh bubbling up as he swatted at his Dad’s hand. “I love you, Tati.” Dick grinned, squeezing Bruce in a hug.

“I love you too Dickie, so much. My little boy has grown up to be so strong and smart.” Bruce smiled softly, pressing another kiss to Dick’s forehead and chuckling at the embarrassed blush on his son’s cheeks.

“You wanna go watch a movie with me? I’ll even let you have the good blanket.” Dick sprang up from the ground, grinning as Ace also stood up and circled around him happily.

“That’s a lie, but yes, any movie you want, Birdie,” Bruce grunted as he stood up, stretching and ignoring the horrified look on his son’s face as his back cracked loudly. “Alright, Ace, you’re relieved of your duty,” Bruce said, patting the German shepherd on the head once as he barked loudly.

“Why was Ace down here in the first place? And what did you mean by duty?” Dick asked as they started walking toward the elevator, both of them not in the mood to take the stairs.

Bruce raised an eyebrow at Dick. “Ace is my service dog? Like how Titus and Alfred the cat are Damian’s?”

Dick blinked. He did not know either of those things. “Wha-“

“We’ll talk about it later. Cmon.”

——

Jason blinked, staring listlessly at the words in his book. That’s how you could tell he’s really out of it; he doesn’t even remember what book he picked out, and he couldn't care less about it.

Jason was suddenly jolted out of his lethargic state by a familiar knock on the door in a pattern only Bruce did.

It was silent for a while, but Jason knew better. If Bruce had come here in person and knocked on his door, most likely as Bruce Wayne, then he wasn’t going to go away any time soon.

“What,” Jason growled as he threw open the door, silently thrown for a loop the moment he looked at his Dad. “… why do you look like that? And why is Ace here?”

Bruce chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling and showing off the crows feet Jason doesn’t remember him having before. Ew, his Dad looked older. That thought was promptly shoved away to be unpacked later in the very far future.

“I’m sorry for bothering you today… I was wondering if I could talk to you?” Bruce asked, ignoring the way Ace poked his thigh with his nose. “It’s alright if it’s a no. I just wanted to… talk.”

Jason shut down the urge to slam the door shut in his face (only for dramatics, he doesn’t wanna hurt his Dad) and nodded, stepping aside so he could let Bruce and Ace through.

As Bruce sat down, Ace let out a whine and pressed his nose against Bruce’s hand. Bruce rolled his eyes before looking at his son sheepishly. “I’m sorry to ask Jason, do you have a snack I could eat? It seems I have forgotten to eat this morning, and Ace is scolding me.”

Jason frowned, worry curling in his gut as he leisurely made his way to his kitchen, pulling out a box of white cheddar popcorn (the best kind) and tossing Bruce a bag. “You’re paying me back for this shit, I'm not made of money like you,” Jason mumbled, totally not worried because the only time Bruce forgets to eat and Alfred hasn’t reminded him is when something is truly wrong.

“So… what?” Jason questioned, refusing to sit down. He knew power plays; he wouldn’t let Bruce have the upper hand in whatever conversation they were about to have.

Bruce popped a few kernels into his mouth, chewed, and really looked at Jason before sighing. “I’m sorry about last week. Dropping you off like that without talking about it was wrong of me. I don’t want you to think that you can’t come home or to the cave anytime that you’d like, it's your home too.” Bruce apologized.

“Seriously? Is that it-“

“However, I’m not sorry for being upset that you used a gun against someone while I was around, knowing full well how I feel about unnecessary gun usage,” Bruce said, cutting Jason off.

“You are my son. I love you. These are facts and will never change, no matter what you do. I don’t like guns, but more importantly, I don’t like you using real bullets on people, you know this, but you did it anyway.” Bruce stressed, digging his nails into the palms of his hands till Ace’s soft bark stopped him from drawing blood.

“I’m sorry…” Jason whispered softly, shifting on his feet uncomfortably.

Bruce nodded. “I know… and I also know that you’re not going to stop using real bullets, no matter how I feel about it. You’re an adult man who no longer lives under my roof, no longer comes over, if I’m being honest.” Bruce relaxed more into the couch, like the tension in his body was cut as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back. “But…”

Jason bit his bottom lip before shuffling over, flopping down, and resting his head on Bruce’s shoulder, before he could make himself chicken out. “I’m sorry… I just…” Jason hummed, sorting through his thoughts.

“When you trained me to use guns all those years ago, I felt connected to them. I enjoyed how good I was, and how in control I could be. But it also made me feel guilty, using the weapon that had brought you so much pain. That had ruined your life and made you Batman.” Jason started, letting himself reminisce about the past. “And when I came back… it was like a ‘fuck you’ kinda thing, but overtime… I guess it’s how I stayed connected with you when you still didn’t know I was alive.”

Jason shrugged his shoulders as he absentmindedly played with Bruce’s hand and wrist, his fingers running over the multitude of scars, self-inflicted and otherwise. “I won’t stop using guns, but I am sorry that I shot that guy. I felt bad but wanted to act tough in front of you, I guess…”

Bruce hummed, watching Jason play with his fingers before speaking. “I wouldn’t say ‘ruined’ my life. After all, without my… unfortunate tragedy, I wouldn’t have gotten all my wonderful children. And I would never trade you or your siblings for the entire world.” Bruce said softly, pressing a kiss to Jason's forehead.

Jason let out a small cough and turned away, the tips of his ears and the base of his neck flushing a light red at how sappy Bruce was being. “… I don’t think we’ll ever truly agree on this topic,” Jason whispered softly.

“I know. I’m okay with that. I won’t love you any less.” Bruce gently knocked their heads together, something he hadn’t done since Jason was a little kid.

Jason gnawed on his bottom lip and shifted before hiding his face away in Bruce’s shoulder. “Yeah, I love you too, Dad. Just don’t be getting so sentimental all the time. It’s cringe.”

“What is it that Dick is always saying? ‘To be cringe is to be free’ or something?” Bruce quoted, making Jason scrunch up his nose in a way that was exactly the same as Bruce.

“Ew, please don’t go quoting Dickie. We both know he doesn’t need the ego boost.” Jason complained, grinning to himself as Bruce chuckled.

“Alright then, snack on my popcorn that I so graciously gifted to you. However, I’m gonna make you a real meal.” Jason stated, looking his Dad in the eyes with his hands on his hips. “I can’t believe Alfie let you out of the house without eating for… however long you decided to starve yourself!” Jason said in disbelief, Ace barking in agreement.

“Shush, I don’t need the two of you ganging up on me,” Bruce grumbled, fishing out a dog treat from his pocket and tossing it to Ace.

“Dad, can you open this bag of rice? It’s not opening, and Tim stole my scissors last week and hasn’t brought them back.” Jason whined, poking his head out from the kitchen.

It was an obvious lie; Jason could have easily opened the bag with his bare hands, and even then, Jason had a million knives lying around. But it warmed Bruce’s heart that Jason was asking him for help, just like when he was a child.

“Sure, only if I get to be a taste tester.” Bruce agreed with an easy smile, standing up and ambling his way to the kitchen.

“Duh, do you see anyone else here, old man?”

——

Tim felt himself slowly come to wakefulness, humming softly as he felt a large hand gently stroking his hair.

“Hi, sweetheart.” A deep voice rumbled. Very familiar, very safe.

“Bruce?” Tim groaned, forcing his eyes to stay open and focus on his Dad sitting on a chair he pulled up beside his bed. “What… what are you doing?”

Bruce hummed softly and pushed Tim’s bangs out of his face, taking a moment to gaze down at his son’s tired but relaxed expression. “I wanted to see you… I wanted to apologize.”

“For wha?” Tim sighed, melting into his pillow as Bruce lightly scratched his scalp just right. “Feel like a dog when you pet me, Dad…” Tim slurred, a lopsided grin forming on his face as Bruce chuckled.

“I think you’re more like a cat… or a ferret.” Bruce teased, stifling a laugh at Tim’s sleep but offended expression. “My bad. You’re just my son, who becomes very cute when he’s tired.”

“M’ not cute. I’m a grown man.” Tim complained, most definitely not pouting. “Didn’t answer my question… what are you doing here?”

“I was weird last week, wasn’t I? You and your siblings probably talked about it.” Bruce said, deciding not to beat around the bush anymore than he already had. “I’m sorry about that, Tim. I don’t really know what had gotten into me.”

Tim hummed and nodded, staring up at Bruce, looking decidedly less sleepy than a few seconds ago.

“But, I’m only apologizing for how I dismissed you. You’re an adult, Tim, and you and your siblings always remind me of that, so I’m putting this firmly in your hands. I love you, and I don’t want you to destroy yourself with a bad sleepy schedule.”

Tim opened his mouth, probably to call Bruce a hypocrite, but one look from Bruce just stopped him up.

“Yes, I know, I do the same things, which is why I’m telling you this. I suffered the consequences of sleep deprivation and a dependence on caffeine. I’m still dealing with the symptoms, and I don’t want you to be stuck in this cycle like I am.” Bruce gently cupped Tim’s cheek, his thumb brushing under Tim’s eyes as he looked at the eye bags his child had.

“You are so young and so bright. Doing this will put a strain on you and hurt you in the future. I can’t force you to do anything, and I know you barely take what I say into consideration.” Bruce let out a huff of laughter. “But take this into consideration: I love you, and your family loves you. We want the best for you and your health. Please take a break, my dear.”

Tim sniffled and looked up at Bruce sadly. “I know, I know it’s just… I feel like I have to prove myself, you know? I don’t mean to brush you off or anything, but it feels like I’m the only one who can get these cases done, and if I’m off sleeping or doing anything else, people could be getting hurt. It’ll be my fault.”

“If I’ve ever made you feel like I’m disappointed in you for taking care of yourself, you have my explicit permission to slap me or punch me or just do whatever you want,” Bruce said seriously, his mouth drawn in a thin line. “If you don’t want to, call Clark.”

“Even if a million cases never get solved, I’d be happy just knowing you’re safe, happy, and healthy,” Bruce said softly. “I mean, you could quit being Red Robin tomorrow and I’d be happy.”

“Dad.”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself.” Bruce grinned, causing Tim to grin back at him. “I’m real sorry, Timmy, honest.”

“S’ okay, I forgive you. I’m sorry too, Dad.”

“That’s okay, I forgive you, too,” Bruce said softly, noticing how Tim had regained the sleepy look in his eyes. “Guess I’ve kept you up for too long, go to sleep, my dear.”

Tim gripped the sleeve of Bruce’s turtle neck as he tried to pull away, frowning in an exaggerated manner that he would deny to the ends of the earth, which looked like pouting.

“Hey, you disrupted me in the middle of my nap. The least you can do is join me, Dad.” Tim said, tugging Bruce back toward him.

“Tim, I’m not sure your bed is big enough for both of us,” Bruce said warily, still allowing his son to tug him closer without any resistance.

“That’s okay, I’m fine with lying on top of you, and I know you are too,” Tim said with a sleepy grin, content to let his Dad rearrange his body so the two were lying down comfortably.

“Good?” Bruce murmured softly, running his hands through Tim’s hair as his second youngest started to drift off once more.

“Yea… all… good,” Tim whispered, a small smile on his face as he felt Bruce press a kiss to his forehead before he drifted off once more, feeling a thousand times lighter.

——

Bruce listened to the phone ring impassively, not really expecting his youngest son to pick up. So, when he heard Damian’s stiff voice mail message that Dick had forced him to set up instead of the standard one, he sighed softly.

“Hello, Damian… I hope you’re having fun over at the Kent farm. I just wanted to call and say that I miss you.” Bruce paused, looking down at the note cards he had written just to map out what he wanted to say before pushing them away. “I can’t wait till you’re back home, but I know you love being surrounded by all the animals. Be safe, say hi to Lois for me, I love you, Habibi.”

Bruce set down his phone and frowned, already rethinking the message he left when his phone rang, Damian’s name flashing on the screen. Without a single second's thought, Bruce picked up his phone before it could ring twice.

“Baba…” Damian hiccuped the moment Bruce picked up, breaking his heart completely. “You…”

“Oh no, baby, take a deep breath for me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Bruce tried to soothe, helping Damian work through his hiccups and calm down. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you again. D-do you want me to hang up?”

Damian hiccuped again softly before sniffling. “No… can you come pick me up?”

Bruce’s eyebrows shot up in confusion, even if he was already standing up and making his way to the Batcave. Secret identity be damned, he was taking his fastest jet. “Me? You don’t want Jon or Clark to drop you off? It’d be faster.”

“No… I just really want to see you. Is that alright?”

“Of course, it is Hayati, I want to see you as well. I missed you so much.” Bruce took in a short breath and punched in the coordinates for the Kent farm, ignoring the lurch as the jet spread out of the cave and was at the farm in under ten minutes.

The moment Bruce jumped out of the jet, Damian was in his arms, hugging him tightly, which was really special because even after all these years, Damian rarely initiated physical affection.

“I’m sorry! I was being so horrible-“ Damian blubbered, soaking the front of Bruce’s turtle neck with his tears.

“Hey, no no no. What’s this? Who said my son was horrible? Where did you ever get such a silly idea?” Bruce immediately shut down Damian’s self-deprecating words, picking Damian up and kissing his forehead before glancing over at Clark with a concerned but confused expression.

“He’s been on his phone a lot, I think he might’ve read somethin’ online,” Clark whispered, gently patting Damian on the back before ushering a worried Jon inside to give them as much privacy as they could.

Bruce carried Damian inside the jet, activating the lead lining so the Kents wouldn’t be able to listen in. Bruce knew Damian would die of mortification if Jon heard him being more emotional than he already was.

Damian silently took the bottled water Bruce offered him but made no move to open it, instead swinging his legs over the edge of the chair where Bruce sat him.

“I know it’s dangerous outside… especially in Gotham… but…” Damian bit his lower lip, trying to fight off the onslaught of tears through sheer force of will. “I read online that a lot of parents don’t let their kids stay out all night, but it’s for a good cause. I’m a very mature person, I'm different than regular people.”

Bruce sighed and ran his fingers through his hair before kneeling in front of Damian, making sure to make eye contact with his youngest child. “It’s not that I don’t believe that you’re capable of taking care of yourself. In fact, I know you are. But your siblings can attest to the fact that I worry and I will always worry, no matter how ‘mature’ you see yourself.”

“An overnight charity event for animal rights is an admirable gesture to give your free time up for, but I can’t allow it, Damian.” Bruce reached for Damian’s hand and gently held it. “You’re still newly fourteen, and no matter what you think or how you feel, you are a child, and it is my duty as your father to protect you and keep you safe.”

Damian let out a sigh and leaned forward, resting his head against Bruce’s shoulder and frowning. “But… I really wanted to go.”

“I know, baby,” Bruce murmured, rubbing Damian’s back. “And if one of your siblings, or I, was free that night, we would’ve gone with you. But we’re not, and I’m not sending you there alone with people I haven’t met.”

Damian nodded. He knew it was reasonable, logically, but he was still only a kid. He wanted what he wanted.

“You have every right to feel upset, and I’m sorry it seemed like I just shipped you off without talking to you, sweetheart. It was rough last week, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve calmly explained it to you.” Bruce apologized, pulling back from the hug so he could look Damian in the eyes.

“Damian,” Bruce started. “I’m not allowing you to go to that overnight charity event. I understand it’s for a cause you care about deeply, but I care about you more. I love you so much, and all I want is for you to be safe.”

Damian laughed softly, wiping away the tears on his face and hugging Bruce tightly. “Explanation received and understood, Baba. I… love you too.

Bruce pressed two quick kisses to Damian’s cheeks, silently reverent that Damian had grown so much and was happily receptive to his physical affection before pulling back and standing up.

“Let’s get home. I’ll let you pick out ten charities for wildlife and animal care to donate to, hm?”

Damian nodded and straightened in the seat, putting on an air of his usual elegance even if his face was still red and splotchy from his cry session.

“I would like that very much, Baba. I’m not going to get grounded, am I? This doesn’t technically count as ‘running away’. I read that online.”

Bruce sighed before chuckling. “I’m a little worried about what else you read online, but no, you’re not getting grounded. This was on me after all.”

Damian nodded. “Good. Now let’s go home. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

——

<Prev>. <Explanation>.

[brucedefender4eva]

Kid Jason: *lying on Bruce’s bed in a fetal position* Evil exists in this world in one form and one form alone. A tummy ache you don’t know the origin of, and won’t go away.

Bruce: *holding a cup of tea and chewable Tylenol for Jason (cause he hates the liquid)* Jay, sweetheart, you’re going to be alright. Cmon, Alfred made tea so you could feel better.

Dick: What a big baby, Bruce and I were supposed to go shopping together and now you’re hogging him.

Jason: Go back to your apartment you big boob, no one wants you here!

Bruce: *exasperated* Boys, please. Be nice to each other.

——

Adult Jason: *lying down in a fetal position on the couch, his head on Bruce’s lap* Hell hath no fury like a tummy ache. I suffer, oh, I suffer truly and deeply. There is no one else who suffers the way I do.

Bruce: *stroking Jason’s hair* Don’t worry, sweetheart, Alfred’s making you some tea that will hopefully help. Why don’t you pick a show for us to watch?

Dick: Dramatic bitch, stop hogging Dad. Hope this stomach ache fucking kills you.

Jason: Go die in a hole you motherfucker, no one wants you here!

Bruce: *resigned and just happy both of his boys are in the same room* Okay… at least it’s not physical.

[brucedefender4eva]

Before everyone goes crazy on this post

I just wanna clarify that I imagined this only happens, like, once a week every two years or so. Very sparsely does Bruce ever do this to any of his children

This is totally not aimed at any particular comments or reblogs, I wanna make that very clear.

Sometimes Bruce gets tired, and instead of going about the problem like he usually does, which will most likely end up with yelling and hurt feelings, it’s more of a gentle parent response.

Bruce is like: “Hey, I’m telling you not to do this thing. If you do it, I’m going to let you suffer the consequences for it because I cannot keep having this conversation with you when you keep disregarding what I say.”

And then his kids don’t listen and want to argue, so he lets them suffer the natural consequences. He’s not ‘giving up’ on them. Bruce doesn’t give up on people

And with this, all of the bat kids in the post are adults aside from Damian, who Bruce is giving him space so they can cool off before they say anything irreparable to each other.

With adults who mostly no longer live with him and often have very big arguments about how they are adults and don’t need him micromanaging their lives, he’s letting them be adults. He's giving them the space that they always ask for and letting himself have some peace.

Is he worried? Yes. But this is what they wanted, and it is their fault that it didn’t work out. They know he's disappointed and they know why.

I don’t believe that just because they’re his children, it doesn’t mean he can’t check out for a bit and let them figure it out.

If this was a regular parent, I’m sure the not really broken leg with Dick would be a total red flag and seen as neglect or abuse but they’re not regular people.

Bruce has tried plenty of times to have his children be regular civilians, but they want to continue being vigilantes, so they’re going to suffer vigilante consequences, especially if Bruce warned them and they did it anyway.

Bruce will send them a text and let them know he's always up for a talk, or he'll make Dick's favorite protein shake and let him pick out a movie for them to watch togehter. I just didn't put that stuff in the post.

So basically, I was going for a ‘gentle parenting’ outlook. He’s also just human, and he gets tired of all the arguments his kids expect or purposefully go looking for.

I guess I didn’t write it that well and it might have come across wrong but yeah ( ^ω^ )

Again, no hate to anyone. I just wanna explain my thought process for it.

<Next>

[brucedefender4eva]

Bruce is the kind of Dad/Mom that wherever he goes, knows someone.

Whether it’s as Batman or simply just Bruce Wayne, someone his going to recognize him from his travels across the world and treat him like family.

And if a member of his family is also there, when he introduces them, they’re also now family.

Bruce has got a lot of professional connections due to the good he’s done with Wayne Industries, but he’s got a lot more personal connections due to the good he’s done as Bruce.

The kids are always surprised, but there's a lot of Bruce lore that they simply don't know because they don't ask, and Bruce doesn't share things about himself.

Luckily, Bruce isn't much of a conversationalist when he's being himself, so they don't have to stand behind him awkwardly for very long.

Unless it's someone he really vibed with, then he just gets to yapping while the kids wait for Bruce to remember he's with his family.

[brucedefender4eva]

Tim walks into Bruce’s study where he’s ’working’ but in actuality just texting Clark, who was canceling on a date they had planned

Tim: *holding out his hand* Give me fifty bucks

Bruce: *takes out his wallet and hands 50 bucks to him* Wait, why?

Tim: *pocketing the money* You haven’t wished me happy Pride month yet

Bruce: *holding out his hand* You haven’t wished me happy Pride Month either. I’ve been out longer than you’ve been alive

Tim: *whispers* Fuck *hands him back the 50* Can’t believe I forgot you were bi too

Bruce: *hums and puts his money back in his wallet before glancing down at his phone with an evil grin* … Y’know, Clark would probably feel guilty enough to give you money

Tim: *evil grin that’s the exact same as Bruce’s* Interesting… *leaves*

Bruce: *sighs with a small smile* I gave birth to that boy… he’s just like me

[brucedefender4eva]

Kid Jason gets so mad at all the mean comments that people write about Bruce online, cause he knows it’s not true and it never will be

And he’s ranting to Bruce, who is just smiling softly at him while Dick lies on the couch nearby, rolling his eyes since he was forced to be there and try to heal his relationship with Bruce.

“Why don’t you care more about this, Dad? They’re being so… well, horrible!”

Bruce taps his fingers on his desk before pulling Jason closer, hoisting the small boy onto his lap. “When people say those mean things about me online, I just think, it’s nowhere near what I’ve said about myself.” Bruce shrugs, incorrectly assuming that this would somehow calm his son. “It puts it all into perspective.”

Jason makes a pitiful, wounded sound and hugs Bruce tightly. Bruce doesn’t necessarily understand why what he said ignited such a reaction, but he loves hugs from Jason, so he hugs him back happily

Dick is still lying down on the couch, his face obscured from view by the book he was reading, hiding the devastated expression on his face.

The boys have a telepathic communication moment where they agree to hunt down the motherfuckers who keep saying bad things about their Dad. They can’t decide whether it’s better that Bruce doesn’t feel bad, or it’s bad that he thinks worse stuff about himself.