#but she's a wayne

[redactedrem]

Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.

Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.

He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.

He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.

Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"

"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.

[neuro-psyche]

I think Dick and Jason would have multiple “what the actual fuck are you saying right now” with Tim and Damian when it comes to quality of life/monetary differences. Sure, Dick and Jason got used to Bruce’s “is $100 a good enough tip on a $30 bill?” shit, but hearing Tim talking about a new laptop he bought for $5000 literally is like a punch in the gut.

If they ever went on a cruise (which they totally wouldn’t because cruises are floating death traps), Jason and Dick would be in awe of the fancy amenities, where as Damian would be unsatisfied with the quality, since he grew up with every single amenity known to man. Tim would just feel like it’s all normal since the Drake’s were extravagant and travelled all over the planet.

Jason : My bedroom is bigger than my fucking apartment.

Dick : I could do a full gymnastics routine with the space in my room.

Tim :

Dick :

Tim : My room is normal sized…

Jason : You grew up in a mega mansion. I hardly think you’re the benchmark of a normal room-

Damian : I must agree with Drake. This room is frankly underwhelming.

Dick, staring wildly at him : What do you mean underwhelming- Dames there’s an aquarium wall in your room.

Damian : Yes. Underwhelming.

Jason :

Dick :

Jason : Do you want to-

Dick : Jump off the boat? Yes.

[ditzybat]

tim drake is the type of guy to drop random lore then walk away.

tim: ugh i hate baseball, it’s like, when you have to play it in order to save a whole planet once, every game after seem boring

dick: that’s not…

tim: only downside to that was how we almost totaled barts brand new spaceship

dick: what spaceship??

—

tim: oh, hi mom

shiva: hello timothy, how are you? still keeping up with your training i take it?

bruce: mother? she’s not your —

shiva: let’s spar then timothy, let’s leave it strictly non lasting injuries, i don’t rather feel like dying by your hand again today

tim: of course!! ^-^

bruce: again?

—

tim: man i forgot to take my meds again

duke: your meds for what?

tim: i have no spleen, so i have to take probiotics, it really is manageable but i dont know where those pills went

duke: i’m almost scared to ask, tim, how did you lose your spleen?

tim: weird spider dude, it was a whole thing

—

tim: you talk a lot of shit for someone who got replaced as heir to your immortal grandfathers empire by me

damian: you what!?

tim: i regularly beat his ass at online chess every week too, and i don’t think you’ve seen him since he stole your corpse

—

tim: here

jason: what’s this?

tim: a box of all the photos i took when i obsessively stalked you for your entire tenure as robin

jason: thanks?

tim: you’re welcome, bye!

jason: … creepy ass kid…

—

steph: so how did you to get together?

bernard: well —

tim: i saved him from a getting cut open by chaos monster cult members

bernard: yep, i was rescued from being a vessel for a greek god, and we just really clicked afterwards

steph: well, it’s better than the brick

[emotional-piece-of-meat]

Bruce, trying to be a responsible adult, naively believing that it would be easier with his least troublesome children: you cannot drive the batmobile, none of you have a license.

Duke: is it because…

Cass out of the blue: is it because I'm Asian?

Duke, holding tears of pride: that's my sister!

Bruce, sweating in rich white privilege: actually... I changed my mind…

[theerurishipper]

-

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Part 1 <- Part 2 -> Part 3

Masterpost

[bruciemilf]

Need a the Waynes Lived AU where Martha’s a vampire. She snuck in a Wayne Gala for a potential late night snack, but Thomas thought she was a socialite.

“So, what do you do?”

“I drain people of their life sources.”

“Oh, you’re a CEO too?”

She can’t drink Thomas’ blood because he smokes too much, the baggy eyes indicate long nights spent on his feet during surgery, which means it’ll taste bitter, and she saw him drown 10 whiskey shots in one go.

It’s a taste thing, nothing against him.

He is, how ever, very handsome, and she decided she’ll be his house cat for the time being. Fast forward two years later and they have a vampire cherub of a baby named Bruce.

Babies usually don’t come out with fangs and tiny bat wings, so, yeah. His wife’s a vampire. Cool.

“How come I’ve never seen your wife outside during the daytime, Tom??”

“How come I’ve never seen you mind your own fucking business?”

[potatounicoorn]

The 5 Robin's expect I made this with my only context being my 3 days of Tumblr and Ao3 scrolling and 3 episodes of Young Justice

[spicy-apple-pie]

Jason brings up the fact that he's changed Damian's diapers as often as possible.

[empire-of-the-words]

so I read son of the demon straight through today (tbh maybe not my best idea I'm still sad 😓), and came to the realization that Bruce and Talia's marriage never actually ends. like, Talia just tells Bruce to leave and Ra's last line is literally calling Bruce his son. sure, it's implied, but, also. consider:

Random lawyer or finance guy or something: Have you ever been divorced or widowed? Bruce: Y- Bruce: Bruce: Bruce: actually I think I'm still married. Dick: I'm sorry, WHAT?

[allthegothihopgirls]

HE'S JUST A BABY OHMYGODDDD

[littlefankingdom]

Bruce Wayne is canonically a very handsome man (he is called a "pretty boy" and he is in his 40s, for fuck's sake), and he is pretty famous as a rich philanthropist who doesn't want to leave his awful cursed crime infested city. So, there must be a ton of people thirsting over him on the internet. Fancams, edits, fanfics and imagines ("kidnapped with Bruce Wayne 😍 by a Gotham rogue"), the whole charade!

And anytime one of the batkids stumbles on a thirst post, they have the most dramatic disgusted reaction, loudly gagging, before sending the link to the batkids chat, because if they must suffer, then they should all suffer. Clicking on a link in this groupchat is like playing russian roulette, and getting rickrolled is a good ending.

[damiduck]

Damian, handing Bruce a piece of paper with a very neat calendar on it: father, I will be taking a step back from my participation in our nightly patrols. I have carefully considered factors such as, but not limited to, school tests, most likely days for breakouts and when other people will be available. Here is my schedule.

Bruce: any particular reason you are stepping back from Robin?

Damian: I have reached an acceptable age and am by far mature enough, so I will be participating in Ramadan this year, father. Afterwards I will pick my duties up as normal, but with changed sleeping and eating patterns, this is the most logical step for now.

Bruce, who grew up with a jewish mother and christian father who were intent to raise him on some weird mix of the two, then a second father who was atheist, proceeded to lose his entire way in any form of religion due to losing himself in his teen years, took in Jewish boy, then a catholic one with religious trauma, then an atheist one who had no idea how to even approach the idea of religion, followed up by a pagan girl and already making seven different mental lists of things he will need to research, how to add aspects of Islam into their weird family holidays and trying desperately to show his support for his son: ....hnn

Damian: thank you father

[webshood]

Bruce and Talia in their on-off arc, where sometimes Jason would wake up and Talia was at the manor, they would play happy family for a couple of days before things went wrong again, Talia managed to fill up an entire album with pictures of the three of them, valentine's day, Jason's birthday, their skiing trip for the winter holidays – Dick went too, but refused to have a good time, he was just there to make sure Talia wasn't poisoning Jason's mind.

Talia later on re-created these moments with Jason and Damian, he was catatonic for some of the photos, but after she got Jason's stuff figured out it was all smooth sailing. So while on his murder tour, Jason had to go spend a week with his pseudo-mom and a five year old Damian, because she wanted to keep record of her boys growing up.

She has a album full of infant-toddler pictures of Jason and her, "mommy and me" style that he has no idea how she managed to get done.

[obsessedwithstarwars]

Okay you can’t tell me that Vlad doesn’t have an organ somewhere in his mansion. Upon learning of this, Danny would teach himself how to play the Haunted Mansion theme on the organ and play it at 2am.

Vlad Masters is away on business in Gotham, and the Fentons are coincidentally there for a symposium on ecto-activity. So it’s perfect! Except he goes to the wrong house, er mansion.

Honestly, Danny thought it was one of Vlad’s many mansions. Scaring the old man is his favorite activity after all. There’s a higher amount of ectoplasm here, so it has to be Vlad’s place right?

When Bruce comes out (on one of his few nights off) and sees his carbon copy playing the organ, all thoughts fly out of his head. Danny finally looks up and also blue screens. They stare at each other for what feels like an eternity until Danny’s cell phone rings (the ghostbusters theme??) and he panics. He jumps up and makes a break for the other door rushing through apologies “SorryWronghousegottagobye!” And runs out of the room. “Wait! Who are you?”Bruce exclaims as he rushes after him. They’re on the second story in one of the rooms he rarely uses. How did he know where the organ was? No matter. He’ll catch the kid on the stairs.

Except the kid is already almost at the bottom. How did he get down so effortlessly? The kid practically floated down the stairs.

Bruce gets to the foyer just in time to see the kid realize the door was dead-bolted in multiple spots. He won’t be able to undo them all before Bruce catches up to him.

He slows down and stands behind a pillar, assessing his next move. He needs to be careful here. This is a child after all, no need to spook him any more than he already has. He needs to slowly approach, and ask his questions.

But then the kid does the unexpected. After looking around frantically, he takes a deep breath. Two rings form around his middle and travel up and down his body. His black hair turns ghostly white. He looks back, almost directly at Bruce. His eyes widen as if he realizes he’s being watched. He whispers, barely loud enough to hear, “I’m so sorry, please don’t follow me.” Then, he backs through the locked door and vanishes.

[deadsetobsessions]

He could overlook a lot of things, but this was getting ridiculous. You’d think seasoned vigilantes would have better excuses prepared, but Danny had caught that flash of panic that crossed Tim’s face as Danny came face to face with Tim dragging an unconscious Steph to her designated room in the manor.

“Uh.”

“Danny! Uh, Stephanie brained herself- uh, sliding down the bannisters and- pleasedon’ttellBruce.”

Danny blinks, staring at Tim and then very pointedly, very slowly, turned his head back towards the direction he came from: the main hall… where the bannisters were. He wonders what vigilante hijinks they were trying to hide from B this time.

Tim coughs, trying to inch Stephanie away. “Uh. She was doing… cartwheels?”

Danny let his eyes slowly take in the bruises that were clearly not from “cartwheeling in the mansion” on the both of them. There’s a huge bandaged cut on Steph’s forearm and a giant bruise on the edge of Tim’s jaw. Tim’s face twitches nervously, not that anyone else would have noticed- except Danny has enhanced ghost senses and could feel the panic coming off of his adopted brother.

“You know…” Shit, what does he do? Not knowing would be so much easier if these idiots gave him good excuses! “I don’t think I want to know what you two have been up to… but should I be worried for your, uh, physical health?”

“Nope!”

“… Okay.” He says. Tim opens his mouth to make further excuses but Danny adds quickly, “But don’t tell me, because if Bruce asks, I want plausible deniability.”

Cartwheels, Danny’s ghostly ass. Luckily, this show of doubt reaffirms Tim’s belief that Danny believes them all of the other times. Danny grins inwardly, planning capitalizing on the guilt that flashed over Tim’s face.

“Deal.”

“Want help?” The halfa points at Steph, who’s still being dragged over the carpet by a noodle armed Tim. Danny knows Tim’s strong, he’s a vigilante, but it’s funny watching him pretend to struggle.

“Please. I’m so tired right now.” He looks it too. Danny’s brows furrow with genuine concern when he takes in Tim’s drowned raccoon look. He picks up Steph, firmly removing her from Tim’s suddenly weak grip. Being careful to avoid her injuries, Danny nods at the door to her room. Tim cracks it open and does a little showy gesture towards the inside.

“C’mon, we’ll tuck her in and then I’ll tuck you in.”

“What, you don’t have to do that.”

“If you don’t let me tuck you in and make sure you sleep, I’ll tell Alfred who really accidentally poured boiling hot coffee on his azaleas last week. And I’ll sic Dick on you and tell him you haven’t been sleeping enough.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Tim grumbles. “But fine. It’s really not my fault I’m this tired. A missing spleen is hard to handle, you know.”

“Yeah, missing an organ sucks,” Danny says, shit eating grin hidden long enough to catch the contemplative bloodhound look that passes over Tim’s face.

“Which- uh, which one of your organs is missing?”

“Liver.” Danny says, remembering the flashes of pain. He tilts his head away to hide the grin at Tim’s panicked face.

When he tucks Tim in, he pretends to believe Tim’s sleeping act and left his room while mumbling about the Wayne’s clumsiness and bruises and stocking up on bruise cream. He couldn’t even enjoy Tim’s floundering, this time, worried as he is.

——

“Brother.” Danny half turns his head, just to beam a sunny smile at Cass. He signs an exuberant hello. The halfa hangs up his coat as he addresses his adopted sister.

“Cass! What’s up?”

“Dinner.” She smiles back, signing that Alfred wanted them to the dinning room post haste. The main dining room, because rich people were fruit loops and Batman is totally included. Cassandra looks down and gasps.

What…?

Oh. Fuck. Danny glances down. He genuinely forgot about that.

“Huh.”

“Okay?” Suddenly, Cass is right next to him, hand reached out and hovering over the actual knife Danny forgot was sticking out of him. At least it’s where his liver should be, so he won’t have to pretend.

“Oh. Yeah, I’m good. Don’t have a liver.” Danny decides on the spot that he’s not gonna mess with Cass. She smiled the same as him. “Got mugged on the way back but I think they said I could keep the knife, right?”

“Danny.” She’s frowning at him. He feels like he just kicked tiny Cujo. But he doesn’t feel bad enough to blurt everything out.

“Here. You can have it if you want?” Danny casually pulls out the knife and holds the wound together with his bare hands. Cass looks more alarmed. She bodily picks up Danny and starts running.

“Woah!”

Cass throws him at Alfred, gently.

“Miss Cassandra! Why, I never-!” Alfred pauses in surprise.

“Uh. Wow, Cass. You’re really strong.” Danny pipes up, hand still over his gushing wound.

She ignores him, pointing at Danny and telling Alfred, “Hurt. Got mugged. Dumb.”

“Hey! It’s not my fault Gothamites are ready to jump people at any moment. Besides, it’s daytime. It’s not like the vigilante furries are out to save my butt. I think I did really well coming back safe, you know?”

“Hurt. Forgot the knife. Was in him.”

“Master Danny!”

Danny pouts. He also knows there’s a discreet camera in the corners of the sitting room, so he’s definitely hoping he could phase into the cave when Barbara eventually tells the group that he called them “vigilante furries.”

Alfred clucks his tongue and set to work patching him up. Danny tries not to bask in the careful way Alfred tended to his wounds. It reminds him too much of Jazz, if Jazz was British and a man with greying hair.

But because they were watching him and he was watching them in return, Danny noticed the moment Alfred’s hands stalled and Cass’ gaze got intense. What now…?

Oh, fuck, his vivisection scar. Oops. Danny smiled, channeling Dani (his lovely clone sister) at her most innocent.

Cass smiled back, just as sunnily, fists tightening at her side in repressed fury.

——

“Cass? Why’d you call us?”

“Yeah, baby bat. I got a couple o’ smugglers to talk to.”

Cass paces.

“What is it, Cassandra?” Damian tuts impatiently.

“Danny. Has… scars. Autopsy. But was struggling. When cut.”

“What.”

“A vivisection, Master Jason.” Alfred’s voice was crisp and eerily cold. His hands are folded, rage only held back by his sheer will and a well practiced sense of propriety.

“We find. Who hurt him,” Cass snarls. “We. End.”

Jason’s eyes glint green, hands going to his guns. “Fine. By. Me.”

“It does tie in with the dead comment. I wonder what happened to him.” Tim clacks away at the bat computer, furiously looking into the matter already. Bruce has taken to prowling, stressed out at the prospect of one more of his children- not a vigilante at that- getting hurt the way Jason had. Worse, even. A vivisection. He was alive, dissected. Aware enough to struggle. Dick looked like he was torn about hunting down and lunging at whoever hurt Danny to rip their throats out with his bare teeth versus the urge to go back up to the manor and wrap Danny in bubble wrap.

In the corner, Danny was having a quiet breakdown because he came here to watch them react to vigilante furries, not offering to murder the people who vivisected him. What the fuck?? He ran his hands through his hair, invisible.

——

“Oh, by the way, we should consider more daytime shifts.”

“Why?” Spoiler asks Barbara.

“Danny got mugged. And called us the nightly furries.”

“The fuckin’ what-?” Jason chokes out, laughing. Bruce stops his pacing, body language becoming slightly offended.

Danny muffles a laugh only Alfred would have heard.

[bruciemilf]

Alfred honestly can’t say shit about Bruce bringing in strays, because what if the Waynes got him the same way?

I genuinely can’t recall HOW Alfred, British special forces extraordinaire, ended up working for Gotham’s (scary) sweethearts.

In my mind, he came to them bleeding.

There’s a tang of bitterness pooling in his gut. Soldiers don’t have friends. They have guns. And he’s all out.

Just when Alfred thought all is in peril, a tiny little hand gently covers a nasty bullet hole on his abdomen.

The first thing Alfred thinks about is: ‘Jesus, this kid has scary eyes.’

“Hi, Alfred.”

“…How do you—“

“Bruce! Jesus FUCKING Christ, I swear, I’m not paying for your ransom next time you run o—…What the fuck is that?”

If there’s one thing about Thomas that Alfred will never forget is his voice; The bass , so chasmic and powerful it could shake the whole world, and the burning care in his eyes despite his vulgarity.

Bruce, — who’s the tiniest bundle of a boy Alfred witnessed, is yanked up by his father’s strong hands, squeezed to his chest carefully. “Hurt,” he says. There’s a tiny, red handprint on Thomas’ shirt.

“Yeah, I didn’t notice,” Thomas mumbling, looking around.

Maybe local gangs? The bullet point is too precise, too calculated. “Who the hell are you?”

Alfred, with his raspy breath, says, “I’m the terribly rude bloke dying on your doorstep, I’m afraid. Alfred Pennyworth. At your service.”

For a guy who’s about to bleed his last, he sounds awfully sarcastic.

“Yeah, wise guy, no one’s dying on my kid’s birthday. Bruce, tell Dotty to prep up the basement. And tell your mama to get my Budlight out of the cooler. Jesus Christ.”

Alfred ends up hoisted on this man’s back. Thomas asks if he has anyone he wants to call? Anyone that’ll come pick him up? Anyone to bury him, if it comes to it.

Alfred whispers he does not.

Thomas sighs. “Well. Kid‘a been asking for a playmate.”