#bruce thomas wayne

[undertheredhood]

the rest of the justice league: hey man, we get that he’s your son and all, but shouldn’t you do something about him?

bruce ‘that’s my precious baby boy’ wayne: i’m sorry, did you have to hold your son as he was dying in your arms? did you almost k*ll yourself trying to follow him to the afterlife? i don’t think so.

[incorrectmarvelquotesss]

— alexithymia —

(n.) the inability to express your feelings

Warnings: pregnancy, implications of sex, slightest illusions to abortion

Summary: You had to tell Bruce about the consequences of one night.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Female Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Based on this post (there’s a chance I’ll write more for this)

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Bruce slowly nodded, eyes hardening and the emotion behind them too intense for you to grasp onto. You stood, in the middle of the vast drawing room that the butler, Alfred, had guided you to, the silence thickening as the quiet rang on for a few moments too long for your liking.

The pit in your stomach was growing by the second and you could feel the air in your lungs tightening. When your ribs finally felt like they were being squeezed, Bruce spoke. 

“Okay,” he said, voice cool and calculated, eyes drifting over your body as if trying to find some evidence that you were pregnant. Your eyes met his and you tried to figure out what he might be thinking.

Maybe he thought you were trying to trap a billionaire or maybe he wanted nothing to do with the baby, or you. Maybe he wanted to be a part of the baby’s life and maybe not yours. Maybe he wanted the baby to himself. 

That scenario scared you. Even though this whole pregnancy wasn’t planned, over the last two weeks and the first appointment, you had grown into the idea. It didn’t even matter to you whether or not he wanted to be in your lives, but you wanted the baby now.

You would find a way to support the child and yourself. But knowing the connections and power he held over you, with all the money he had, you knew it would be impossible to win a custody case.

You cleared your throat. “I’m going through with the pregnancy,” you whispered, as if that much wasn’t obvious. You wouldn’t have been here if that wasn’t what you had planned to do. You watched him nod slowly again, jaw clenching this time as his eyes left yours to pin to the floor in front of him. 

“Are you sure?” He asked lowly, his voice betraying a crack of emotion. He shook his head, gaze flitting up to meet yours in question. “Even if I don’t want to be a part of their life?” 

“Even then,” you replied evenly. The sun was dipping in the horizon, coating the drawing room in honey. You could see the hint of a subtle approvement in his eyes, but before you could dwell on it longer, he spoke again. 

“Okay.” It was one simple word that had no other context. You were starting to get annoyed with that word leaving his mouth. You opened your mouth to voice that annoyance, but he beat you to it. “I'll do it.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, the annoyance and nervousness fading behind the relief that made your shoulders loosen. Your brows raised slightly before falling and your eyes flickered around the room, his gaze too intense for you to keep. A shiver ran through you and you rubbed your arms to keep the chill out. 

You met his gaze, swallowing down the urge to snap at him for scaring you. “You’ll do it?” You asked with a hint of confusion and skepticism, not entirely convinced with how easily he accepted it. The stoic expression and the guards in his eyes gave you little to no reading on how he was truly feeling.

Even that night after the gala, he had been the slightest bit vulnerable before he had turned away, gotten dressed, and left the room without another word. It unnerved you. 

His Adam's apple bobbed as he nodded. “I am. I’ll take care of the baby and you. I’ll pay all the expenses that may arise—”

You cut him off with a scoff. “No.” You met his careful gaze, a hint of anger shimmering under your emotions at his implication. You didn’t come here for him to throw money in your direction. “I didn’t come here for you to pay for me and the baby. I can manage that.” 

His eyes dropped to the floor for a moment before meeting yours, confusion now etched into his eyes. “Then why are you—” he started before you cut him off again. 

“I just needed to tell you if you wanted—” you let out a deep sigh, frustration bubbling over the edge. You closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose, not believing the fact that he had thought you were here to make him pay.

Out of all the reasons you had to come here to meet him, to tell him that he was going to be a father, your baby’s father, money was not one of them. 

You opened your eyes, meeting his gaze, now a little calmer. “I wanted to know if you wanted to be a part of the baby’s life, Bruce,” you said slowly as if explaining something very precious. “Not to pay or take care of expenses, but as just a father. If you wanted to see the milestones—the teething, the first steps, words.” 

He blinked, confusion melting into relief and then something akin to disbelief. “As just a father?” He asked, almost testing the words out on his tongue.

Something about the way he asked tugged at your heartstrings. You knew he was always seeked out by the socialites for his money and power, but he was as reclusive and quiet as they could get. 

You just hadn’t realized the extent of his distrust. He was used to people asking for him to get either his money or power and, no doubt, had jumped to the conclusion that you wanted his money. 

You nodded. “A father. Nothing more or less, Bruce.” You could see the slight hesitation in his posture. The way he shifted his weight ever so slightly and eyes darted to the wall behind you in contemplation. “We could co-parent or have set days or holidays or something. We—we could figure it out. I just—it wouldn’t be fair to not tell you. That's why I came.” 

His blue eyes met yours again, softening at the edges. He nodded slowly, his tense shoulders drooping slightly, his blazer ruffling with the movement.

He took his hands out of his pocket, finally reaching down to the coffee table for the sonograms you had placed there when you had told him about the pregnancy. He stared at the photos, eyes raking down the sonograms. 

“How far along are you?” He asked, eyes not straying from the little blob that was supposed to still grow. He couldn’t see the hands or feet yet, but he seemed to be trying to find them anyway. 

“Around eight weeks.” When you spoke, his eyes darted to you, lips pressing together tightly. 

He nodded. “That would make sense.” His eyes flickered back to the photos, fingers tightening around it slightly, just enough for a crinkle to appear. You knew he was still hesitant to believe you, that you were carrying his baby and that you didn’t want his money. 

“It’s up to you,” you said cautiously, taking half a step closer to the coffee table between the two of you. You saw his eyes flick up and then back down. “Whether or not you want to be there for the baby. It’s up to you entirely.”

And it was. You never came to him with the intention of forcing something he didn’t want. If he didn’t want anything to do with the kid, you wouldn’t blame him. It was supposed to be a one night thing, not a whole lifetime of commitment to a whole other human being. 

You had chosen to be responsible for the growing fetus inside you. You wanted him to choose as well, without any pressure. 

He let out a low hum, hand lowering the sonogram pictures and meeting your gaze. His eyes softened. “I’ll be there for the baby,” he said slowly, nodding at you. “And you.” 

You blinked in surprise. “Bruce, I—“

“And you,” he repeated before you could try and protest. His voice was like steel, resolute and strong. You knew he wouldn’t be taking no for an answer this time. “The baby and you.” 

You could merely nod in response. You didn’t know what would happen or how you two would navigate through the next few months and then some years, but you knew he was determined to make it work. However that would be. 

[lucien-calore]

i keep seeing people talking about bruce giving the bat kids christmas gifts and i just. bruce wayne is CANONICALLY JEWISH.

[crossthread]

This is mostly fanon!batfam but I desperately want to read fics where Tim and Bruce have a complex relationship. Not complicated, complex. (Okay maybe a little complicated).

But what I mean is that essentially, Tim had to step up to a role parallel to a caretaker with Bruce, at least at the beginning of their relationship, and this would obviously stand to reflect on the dynamic they build later on. I don't want a complicated relationship between Tim and Bruce where Bruce essentially views Tim as a stand-in to Jason in the beginning or whatever. No, that's overdone and angsty and I don't particularly like it. I want a complex relationship, of essentially power dynamics, between Bruce and Tim because the entire reason Tim barged in on Bruce was due to the fact that his self destructive ways were bleeding into Batman, and he couldn't allow that. There's gotta be times Tim stepped in, and told Bruce no. There's gotta be times where he's pointed at a direction, and said, this way, instead. This was Tim taking care of a grownup who was in the depths of depression and self-destruction. This is essentially a 12 year old who was thrust into a caretaker role, but with a man who wasn't even his parent, who was essentially a stranger to him. There's gotta be times where Bruce would, I wouldn't go as far as to say deferred to him, but at least listened to him. And he wasn't Tim's father at the beginning. He wasn't Tim's anyone. There wasn't a previous relationship to build on between the two of them when Tim first became Robin.

So what I'm saying is, Bruce is Tim's father. But Tim's first relationship with him wasn't father or mentor or partner. Tim's first relationship with Bruce was of one where he was a dependent, to Tim, and that's gotta have some holdover on the relationship they have later on.

[officialbruciewayne]

… are you Bruce Wayne of Gotham?!

@tom-cobalt

Anything's possible.

[holly-natnicole]

Insertadrawingofall3(or4ifIdecidetoincludetherainbowoneinmymaintimeline)BatmanoutfitsBrucewears,theBeyondonehavingitswingsout;Bruceisstandingwiththecowlormaskoninall3(or4)drawings.

Edit: What the frick??!! Why did people give this post social media Likes??!! It's literally a reminder for myself that got posted too soon since I haven't drawn anything yet!!

[jasonsthunderthighs]

Bruce: Don't.

Jason: Don't.

Bruce: Kill.

Jason: Kill.

Bruce: Crime Lords.

Jason: Crime Lords.

Bruce: Don't kill Crime Lords.

Jason: Kill all the Crime Lords. Got it! See ya!

Bruce: JASON NO-

[juridical-angel-blog]

[projectbatman193]

My game style for the Caped Crusader! DCUO

[batsandbirdsandothers]

Inspired by this post - Jason and Duke having glowy eyes and freaking Bruce out

Bruce: Have kids, they said. It’ll be fun, they said. I thought I was gonna shit my pants.

Dick: But they’re so adorable, aren’t they?

Bruce: Unfortunately yes.

[undertheredhood]

bruce 'tired single dad' wayne: *lecturing jason once again on something he did during a fight*

jason 'theatre kid extraodinare'' todd who immediately starts fake crying on the spot: do you just not love me anymore?

[ultimate-marysue]

It's raining nonstop where I am so I'm just picturing the Batfam during a flood.

Red Robin uploads a TikTok from the safety of a roof saying "watch him go!" As Red Hood keeps trying to drive his bike against the current. A big wave comes by and he's slowly dragged downhill. The caption reads "don't drive during floods".

Batman and Robin are on the ground helping civilians out of cars when the intensity doubles and in minutes Damian goes from wading knee deep in the water to swimming. The emergency batfloaties get triggered and he floats away as Bruce fails to grab him by half an inch. "Robin serenely drifting in the current" becomes a meme.

Someone takes a picture of a very flustered spoiler trying to squeeze the water out of her cape. The second she lets go the weight of the water makes her fall ass over backwards. Black Bat ends up giving her her waterproof cape.

Signal makes mirages of sharks in the water to scare the shit out of any criminals. Oracle uploads the recordings with Benny hill as background music. Bludhaven escapes the worst of the storm and Nightwing sends pictures to the group chat patting the barely wet concrete just to rub it in. He still slips on a puddle and eats shit, Barbara sends that to the group chat.

[goaheadandgetinthebog]

Guests at a gala notice that Brucie Wayne is surprisingly jacked. Like, a suspicious amount of muscle for a CEO who lives a life of luxury and doesn't do any physical labour. An amount of muscle that goes beyond "works out to stay fit and look good". And when he's asked about this by a gossip columnist guest he panicks (he's running on 2 hours sleep) and says "It's so I can pick up my kids!"

Now everyone is looking at his kids. Cass and Tim are tiny at 5’ 5 and 5' 7. Damian is still a kid and he's also small. Dick is bigger, but picking him up wouldn't require that much muscle. Maybe Duke, who is still growing but looks like he could be about Bruce's height when he's fully grown? Maybe him?

Then Jason officially returns from the dead. And everyone looks at the 6' 4, 260lbs walking double fridge and goes "Ahhh, ok then."

[fckbatmanhiskidsareminenow]

multilingual batkids. they learn each others languages so they can mix and match. for example:

tim in french: have you figured out how we’re gonna tell b we’re not going to that gala yet?

damian in arabic: no i thought that was thomas’ job?

duke french: me? no jason said he’d do something

jason in arabic: hey don’t drag me into this!

dick in romani: i’m gonna kill him i really i am

steph in russian: who are we killing?

dick in english: ah! nobody! wait i didn’t know you spoke romani

tim in greek: you’re an asshole

jason in english: wait my greek is rusty say it again slowly

tim in greek: you’re an asshole

jason: …. you motherfucker

cass signing: nice drawing

damian in chinese: thank you

dick yelling at bruce about something he did

jason in spanish: what language is he speaking right now?

tim also in spanish: uh all of them i think

jason: does bruce even know-

tim: no he doesn’t

[fallen-jpg]

it's december so time to stare at my art output for the year!!!

picked out some stuff that i'm ok with. wish i had more art to show but im trying to let it go since i was gone for 4 months this year. here's hoping for more drawing time next year

[arkangelo-7]

I bet the JL has a “how fucked are we” metric that’s literally just how many of Bruce’s kids are there.

Like if he pulls up to the alien invasion or whatever with just Robin, then everything’s fine. More than fine, actually, because Bruce feels comfortable enough to bring his eight year old along for the ride. This battle will take approximately fifteen minutes and they’ll all get shawarma after. Not fucked in the slightest.

But if Red Robin shows up too… hmm, okay, this is getting somewhat serious. Tim is one of Bruce’s most trusted partners; he’s the smart Robin, the tactician, the loyal one, and so if Batman brought him along then it means he’s at least a little bit worried about shit hitting the fan and wants one his advisors around. But the combined brain power of Bruce and Tim is pretty much unmatched (DC plot armor for the win), so everything will be fine, basically. Superman might take a hit, but everything’s going to be fine. Just keep calm and you’ll all make it home in time to Door Dash some Panda Express before it closes. So not that fucked.

It starts to get serious after that. When Signal and Spoiler roll up the scene, shit has definitely hit the fan. Batman’s worried enough to call in reinforcements and he’s probably doubting the League’s ability to listen/obey his orders, so he needs a backup plan in case things go really south. But with Signal’s abilities and Steph’s superpower of turning anything into a joke, chances are you’ll be okay. Maybe impaled or something, but okay. But still, fucked.

When Nightwing shows, the JL knows it’s starting to get dicey out on the field. See, Nightwing’s got his own team, his own issues—the fact that he set that all aside to help out his dad is cause for concern. On a scale from 1-10, they are at a 7. Above moderately fucked.

And… oh God. Black Bat? Most of the time the JL doesn’t even see her, but once she makes herself known and starts fighting alongside her siblings, they all start to silently freak out. Black Bat is a fucking machine and if she’s breaking a sweat trying to fight the Big Bad, things are definitely not going to go well. They start praying that Batman figures something out. They freak out. They are intrinsically fucked.

But God Forbid you catch sight of the Red Hood. The prodigal son is a legitimate killer, and if Batman’s letting him blow out brains then the JL knows he’s desperate. And a desperate Batman is not good. At all. They are definitely fucked.