brucedefender4eva

[brucedefender4eva]

I need a fic where Jason provokes Bruce at the wrong time on the wrong day and Bruce just bursts into tears

Like, uncontrollable sobs and he can’t stop himself

Bruce is stuttering out apologies and trying his best to stop but he just can’t and Jason plus anyone else in the room is staring silently in horror, not know what to fucking do

Then Alfred comes and he leads Bruce away while staring back at Jason with the scariest glare he’s ever given in his entire life

And the rest of the kids are like “That was weird, wonder what’s up with Bruce?” Or “Shit, did Bruce get drugged and we didn’t notice?” And they’re all unnerved

While Jason is all “Oh my gosh I made my Dad cry.” And is having a crisis

I think that would be fun.

[brucedefender4eva]

Song- The Old Therebefore (Acapella)

When Dick was younger, he and Bruce used to have dance parties together.

They were spontaneous moments of immense fun that would keep Dick elated for weeks to come, until the next time they found themselves busting a move in the library, kitchen, or anywhere, really. Alfred's disapproving frown be damned, it was their thing.

It was a moment when neither felt the pressure to dance professionally or showcase any skills.

Bruce would put on an old album or a record, something passed down from his parents or even Alfred (he's basically Bruce's parent but Bruce always makes sure there's a distinction. Dick can't judge, he does the same), and they would reminisce about memories Dick knew nothing about while giggling and laughing out loud.

“One day, these old things will be all yours.” Bruce would always say, holding Duck close to his chest and swaying to the music.

Dick couldn’t wait for those days when he would have the records and albums his dad had so thoroughly loved and listened to his entire life. To make his own memories with them, with Bruce right by his side.

How naive.

If only he had realized that meant his dad would no longer be around to dance with him.

He was older now. No longer the silly little nine-year-old who scampered, tumbled, and flipped around Wayne Manor, making Bruce laugh as easily as it was to breathe air.

Dick can’t even remember the last time they had a conversation. Nowadays, he seemed to make any excuse just to get off a call or avoid a text for a few hours longer.

There is no longer any need to do that.

Dick pressed play on the old record machine he found stuffed in the back of Bruce’s closet. Of course, he would keep it, the sentimental fool.

Dick closed his eyes as he sat on Bruce’s immaculately made bed. The room was basically sterile, the way it had been rigorously cleaned till it was spotless and almost bare.

But none of that mattered the moment Dick heard the first notes of their favorite song. He smiled softly and swayed.

If he focused hard enough, he could almost feel his Dad’s arms around him, hugging him close and pressing a kiss to his forehead. He could ignore the fact that he was wearing all black.

He could ignore the real reason why he and all his siblings had gathered together in the Wayne manor for the first time in forever. He could ignore the heavy atmosphere. He could ignore the number of people milling around somberly downstairs in his Dad’s house.

He could ignore it all so easily.

For now, Dick is nine years old, and Bruce is smiling down at him with clear love in his eyes. “One more dance, Dad?” Dick quietly murmured into the stale air as the music swelled to its peak.

Bruce didn’t answer him.

[brucedefender4eva]

A long time ago…

Bruce, walking into the kitchen: Ack! My eyes! They burn!

Dick, just trying to eat his waffles: Shut up! *rolling his eyes and pouting*

Bruce: I know it’s free dress day at school, but damn

Dick: You just don’t understand my fashion genius!

Bruce: *deadpan* You don’t have any, which is exactly why I made sure you went to Gotham Academy.

Bruce: They have a uniform

Dick, shoving two pancakes in his mouth and choking slightly: *muffled* I don’t need this.

Bruce: You’re wearing neon green and electric blue. I’m the one who doesn’t need this.

Dick, turning around with his eyes narrowed: Ya know, people think I’m cool!

Bruce, reaching over and pinching Dick’s cheek: Of course they do, I think you’re the coolest, you know that. *peppers Dick’s cheek with kisses*

Bruce: *smirking* But the clothes you choose to wear are atrocious.

Dick, struggling out of Bruce’s hold: I’m staying after school for one of my clubs! Don't pick me up!

Bruce: Ooh, is it one of your many nerd clubs?

Dick: That’s rich coming from you! Mister Greatest Detective

Bruce: Oof! *clutching chest* Right in my heart! My own child! My flesh and blood! How you wound me so!

Dick, unable to stop himself from laughing: Bye, Bruce! Love you!

Bruce: Love you too! Make good choices

Dick: I will not!

Bruce: Yeah, obviously. What was I thinking? *goes to eat breakfast*

[brucedefender4eva]

Heeeeeeyyyy, im here to answer your question to the best of my ability, yes people do get off to fanfiction, I do as well. It can be almost anything but its mostly to what they are into and their fantasies and what their preferences in reading tastes and types are, so some might prefer reader x character, some might prefer character x character. Others prefer hard-core BDSM while others might prefer reading sweet tooth rotting sex. It all just depends on the person and what they like. Hope that answered your question!!!!!!!!

Oh that so interesting, thank you!

I’ve never thought about it until I saw a post on my timeline and it just got me thinking

Anyways good to know

[brucedefender4eva]

Question:

Do people actually masturbate to nsfw fanfictions? I didn’t know people did that

Maybe it’s just a trait of being ace but I read them, think ‘oh that was nice’ and move on to the next one. It’s the same as reading any other fic for me.

Explain it to me like I’m five, do you guys genuinely feel aroused or something? Is it awkward to have to read and touch yourself or do you wait till the end? Is it only ‘x reader’ or can it be anything?

[brucedefender4eva]

Hello! :D I was just scrolling then I saw a video!!

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZSSaUP9pP/

Credit to OP, we all love supportive community

By just in case you want to have some idea how to deal with a backlash. Why you might ask, because we can't lose you, you're precious to us, you feed us so well, we'll go hungry without you.

That's all!! Have a Wonderful day, Captain! :D

Oh my gosh, I almost had a panic attack seeing the word blacklash lol

I was so confused cause I'm just a little guy, I’m four apples tall o(TヘTo)

Thank you, thank you

[brucedefender4eva]

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

“Okay... this one is seven letters. Non-drinkable dessert whose name comes from the Arabic word for 'drink.’" Stephanie tapped her pen against her lips.

“Sherbet.”

"I thought that was eight letters?"

"What? No? How do you spell it?" Bruce doesn’t look away from… well, whatever he happens to be looking at. It’s gotta be pretty far away since he’s using his binoculars to spy across the rooftops into the alleyways. Or, as Dick likes to call ‘em batoculars.

"S-h-e-r-b-e-r-t."

"No second ‘r'. Common mistake. When the word was imported into English in the early 17th century, it came from languages many considered exotic, thus its spelling is inconsistent. In this case, there is no ‘r’, but that spelling isn’t necessarily incorrect." Stephanie nodded and clicked her pen twice just because it felt right, before scribbling down sherbet.

She sighed as she looked over the half-filled crossword puzzle before tucking it away, pretending that she would find time to complete it at a later date. “We should get ice cream after patrol.”

“Hrn.”

“We should both get rainbow sherbet. That’s the best kind.”

Bruce looked over at her for the first time in an hour and did a tilt, which she could only assume was him raising an eyebrow at her. Steph clicked her pen twice, making Bruce’s lip twitch up only slightly. “Hrn.”

Victory.

“Ya know,” Steph laid her head down on her arms, gazing over the unusually peaceful Gotham night, “you can be pretty okay sometimes. I’m glad I got to know you and your crazy family.”

It was a perfect way to start. The guys had already warned her that Bruce wouldn't understand what she meant if she just came out and said it. She didn't want him to think that this was a prank in the way he had thought their concern was.

Bruce unwillingly let out a quiet snort and shook his head, readjusting his binoculars and looking back out. “So? What else is it that you want?”

“Hm?” Steph tilted her head. “I’m pretty content with us getting ice cream?”

“Yes, but you don’t try to butter me up unless you want something,” Bruce stated, like it was a well-known fact that she should’ve already been privy to.

“That’s not true.” Stephanie frowned, her voice coming out harder than she meant for it. “That’s not true at all.” She glared at the side of Batman’s head, knowing he saw it by the way his jaw tensed.

The air around them shifted, no longer comfortable and cozy like a few seconds prior. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” Bruce said simply, his voice soft, but she could tell he was just saying that to keep her from getting angry and storming off.

She tried hard to think of all the different times she complimented Bruce without trying to receive anything in return, and came up blank. Tried to think of when the compliments were genuine and not surface-level. Anything. Anything at all in all the years they’ve ever known each other.

Damn it. Damn it all.

Steph huffed and buried her face in her arms, feeling like she was 15, and instead of being Spoiler, she was Robin all over again. Or at least, trying and failing to be Robin.

“You suck sometimes.” She muttered, the Gotham breeze rustling her hair and carrying her soft words to Bruce.

“I know.”

“But you can be really great too, not just to me, but to all of us.”

Silence.

“And you make me angry when you don’t listen. When you dismiss my words like I have no idea what I’m talking about. I used to think that I hated you. Not just for that, but for a lot of things.”

“I know.”

“But sometimes, I feel like you’re the only one who sees me? Like, you can listen, but you get too much in your head and decide that the only way you can protect us is your way and no one else’s.” Steph twiddled with her fingers, her eyes firmly locked on the stray alley cat ambling gracefully down the sidewalk below them. “But when you’re good… you’re so good.”

Silence.

Was Bruce seriously only agreeing with her criticisms and ignoring the positive aspects? Of fucking course he was.

“I don’t want you as my Dad. You could never be my Dad.” Steph said, and for a moment, she wished she hadn’t. She’s said it a million times before, but his reaction every time just hurts her heart.

She can hear Bruce take in a shuddery breath before slowly releasing it and letting his shoulders drop. The first time she ever said that to Bruce, it was a lot meaner with more curse words woven in.

Then she had seen the tears in his eyes before his face hardened and he snarled out his own responses, she didn’t let herself think too hard in the moment, too busy combating the venomous words they spat at each other.

But later, when she crawled into bed at her apartment, long after her Mom went to work, she allowed herself to drown in all her negative emotions. She allowed herself to wonder how Bruce was doing.

Steph shook her head, getting out of her thoughts, and powered through. “But no matter what, you’re an important part of my life, and I don’t know if I would be where I am without you. You’re not my Dad Bruce, but I love you all the same.”

As she moved her hand to lay it on his arm (physical contact had always been the best way for her to get her emotions across), Bruce expertly stepped away and shook his head.

“You don’t, you shouldn’t.” He grunted. “I have done nothing but hurt you. And yet, you seem to stick around; I can’t get rid of you. Really, it must be for everyone else rather than sticking around for me." Bruce smiled softly, which only caused a bit of dissonance due to wearing the cowl. “You’re always going to be part of my family, Stephanie, whether or not you see me in your family.”

“I do see you as part of my family. My Mom and I love you, Bruce.”

“You don’t have to spare my feelings. Your mother has given me plenty of stern talkings too.” Bruce shook his hands, a nervous tick he had tried many times to be rid of, but never could. AT least he wasn't digging his fingers into the palm of his hands and trying to draw blood. Not that it would work with the thick padding of his suit's glove.

She really didn't know what to say to that.

“You scared B-man?”

“Of?”

Before she could give him a response, there was loud arguing, quickly followed by a few gun shots.

Without a word of communication between the two of them, they launched themselves off the side of the building and quickly inserted themselves into the scuffle.

The two worked in tandem, easily becoming an indomitable force of nature as they dispatched the criminals and protected a lonely civilian who was unfortunately caught in the crossfire.

As Spoiler launched herself off of Batman’s back to get a guy sneaking up behind him while Batman simultaneously threw his batarangs to the opponents that were behind her, she found herself wondering why they couldn’t possibly work together so well all the time.

Life would be a lot easier that way.

Spoiler let out a soft sigh as she finished tying the last unconscious goon to a light post nearby, glancing over the silent Bat to her left, trying to gauge what emotions he was feeling.

“Yes,” Bruce said suddenly, startling her out of her thoughts. She looked up at him and pulled down her hood, brushing her hair out of her face.

“What?”

“I am scared.”

“… you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“I already know. I am scared.” He repeated.

Bruce started walking away the moment they could hear the police sirens softly blaring throughout the streets, steadily coming closer to their location.

Stephanie sighed and lazily kicked a dented soda can into a nearby recycling bin, absentmindedly making a mental note to ask Babs for the footage later. “Course he’d be scared of love. Idiot.” She murmured, pulling out her grappling gun.

“Spoiler.” Batman’s voice grumbled on the coms, making her raise an eyebrow. He wasn’t that far away from her yet; whatever he wanted to say, he wanted all of them to hear. “Hurry up, I thought we were getting ice cream.”

Steph couldn’t help the snort of laughter that forced itself from her body, barely stopping herself from doubling over in laughter as the rest of the bats angrily chimed in the moment they heard ice cream, Tim already threatening to track their locations.

“Shut up, losers! This is a private thing between me and the boss man!” Steph grinned slyly, zipping up onto the roof and landing beside Bruce, who was apparently waiting for her.

It sucks that no matter what she or anyone else has said, Bruce doesn’t believe that he’s loved by the people around him.

But… he loves her. Now she just has to figure out how to get it past his thick skull that she also loves him, and so does everyone else.

“Do you think they have purple sherbet?”

“If not, I can pay someone to make it. For next time. If you want…”

“Cool.”

[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*