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bruce was raised by alfred, he won’t tolerate bio-child superiority

tags was inspired by some from @an-android-child post

Bruce: Superman

Clark working on something: yes darlin

Bruce*burning bright red*: uhmm.... M-Mission reports

Clark, oblivious: what's that doll?

Bruce gay panic Wayne: nothing.... doesn't matter

*Smoke bombs away*

Clark finally turn around: weird. what was that about

Later that night in bed Clark wakes up in a cold sweat realizing what he's done.

Clark: Oh no. He's gonna kill me

_____

Bruce still on the floor 6hrs later: you don't understand Alfred. That midwest charm. It's psychological warfare.

——

Bruce is tired and/or hurt and decides to just wear casual clothes to finish up some extra work in the cave, so he’s typing away on the Batcomputer. Jason is just coming back from his own patrol and is pissed of at Bruce for one reason or another

Bruce, tired and not paying attention to his surroundings, sees Jason approaching from the corner of his eye but it doesn’t register that it’s his son

Jason is very animated when he argues so he’s just waving his gun around wildly, shouting at Bruce

Bruce’s vision narrows completely and he flinches violently, his large body curling in on hisself as he does his best to melt into the chair he’s sitting on

It’s a quick thing, if you weren’t a trained individual you would miss it entirely.

Jason watches as his dad’s eyes glaze over but still seem to follow the rapid movements of the gun perfectly.

Bruce’s face turns completely blank, like he’s just shut down, and he gets up from his chair and leaves the Batcave.

Jason is left alone in the Batcave, forced to realized that just for a moment, even if it was the smallest most inconsequential moment, his dad was fucking terrified of him

Bruce only saw a large man, half shrouded in the darkness from the cave, yelling and cursing at him while swinging around a gun. Yeah…

For the next few days Bruce can barely be in the same room as Jason and avoids looking at him or speaking to him. All of his kids have never seen him act this was but Alfred has and he’s panicking but it was exactly like this after his parents died

——

I can’t remember what happens after this but I swear there was more to the dream. Obviously Bruce forgives Jason because that’s his baby boy but I can’t remember how lol

Bruce doesn’t know why Jason is mad at him. At this point, it seems to be an everyday thing.

Jason successfully integrates his way back into the family, making it possible for him to hang out with his brothers without being coerced by anyone. He comes and goes as he pleases and struts around the manor like it’s his home again.

Bruce couldn’t be happier.

So why is his second/third oldest mad at him? It seems like nowadays Jason gets mad at Bruce for breathing the wrong way, or walking too slow, or something completely nonsensical.

It all comes to a head when Jason confronts him in his office when Bruce was just finishing up some paperwork.

“What the fuck is your actual fucking problem?” Jason hissed angrily, slamming his fist down on Bruce’s mahogany table.

Bruce distantly hopes that it won’t leave a mark, but for now, he’s more focused on why his son is swearing at him.

“Hello Jason.” Bruce decides to start, giving him a second to collect his thoughts and mentally see if he’s done anything lately. “I’m afraid I don’t understand-“

“Bullshit! Absolute fucking bullshit!” Jason spat, cutting Bruce off.

Bruce’s eyebrows wrinkled slightly at the many curses directed at him. It’s not like he wasn’t used to it; Gotham is his home, but he just doesn’t know why.

“When was the last time you fucking talked to me?” Jason questioned, rounding the desk and jabbing a finger in Bruce’s shoulder.

This causes Bruce to blink, somehow even more confused than before. “I don’t understand. I’m talking to you right now. And we spoke yesterday.”

“No, you walked into the room looking for Golden Boy, saw me and said some fake ass greeting before turning and basically running away!” Jason swung his hands around, making Bruce lean back in his chair to avoid getting hit. “Why are you avoiding me? I thought… I thought you had forgiven me and stuff…”

“What? Of course I have! You’re always welcome here!”

“Then why are you avoiding me? You don’t invite me places, y-you barely speak to me nowadays…”

Bruce picked at the peeling arm of his swivel chair, peeling off a small portion of the black paint and ripping it into smaller pieces before dropping it on the ground. Alfred would probably make him clean it up. “I’m giving you space.”

Jason blinked, looking down at Bruce in confusion. “Space? Why are you giving me space- so much space? You're never fucking around anymore!”

“Well… because you hate me?”

“What..?”

“You told me…” Bruce says slowly, barely stopping himself from scratching at his arm in the tense silence, a habit Alfred made sure he broke. “You’ve told me multiple times how you hate me… and that I’m not your Dad.”

Jason gaped at Bruce, taking a moment to sit on the edge of Bruce’s desk, running a hand down his face. “Fuck Bruce! I-I wasn’t- ugh! I wasn’t being fucking serious!”

Bruce squints, his eyes darting around Jason's angry and confused expression.

“But… you said it? Why would you say that if you didn’t mean it?” Bruce asked quietly, his chest tightening like it does when he wants to cry.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time. At least, not so strongly. The kind of feeling that you get when you know everyone around you understands something that you can’t. Why would Jason say something he didn’t mean?

Why did Bruce have to be so fucking stupid. He's supposed to be the world's greatest detective, so why does he always have a hard time deciphering what people mean? Especially his children.

“I don’t understand,” Bruce repeated, his eyes stinging as he flapped his hands before drumming them softly on the arm of his swivel chair, trying to calm himself down. “You’ve said it. You say it all the time.”

“Bruce-“

“All of you say it! You say that you hate me, so you hate me!” Bruce insisted, no longer looking at Jason, the study felt significantly smaller now. “Why would you say it if you don’t mean it? Why would you say something so mean?”

“… Dad…” Jason whispered softly, slowly taking Bruce’s hands in his own. Bruce hadn’t even noticed that his fingernails were painfully digging into the palm of his hand, leaving angry red half moons.

“Dad, if you think that we hate you, then why…?” Jason gestures widely, pointing at nothing in particular yet everything at the same time. “Why do you do this for us? Why are you still here?”

Scarecrow decided to show up in the Crime Alley, there was a confrontation, Red Hood got aggressive and, well

Somehow the fear gas got under Red Hoods helmet causing him to inhale it

And now their boss was shaking on the ground, almost completely unresponsive, and worst of all

He was calling his mom

"mama, mama" it was a rather sad, pathetic sight but the goons were smart enough to not say it out loud

They didn't know if their boss' mom was even alive in the first place not to mention where she was

As they were panicking they noticed in the corner of their eyes the Batman standing near them

The goons started to gear up, ready to protect their boss from the bat

Only for Red Hood to get up, walk over to the Bat and hug him burying his face in his shoulder

"Red?" The bat was just as confused as the goons, but Red Hood only hugged him tighter and continued shaking

"mama, mama"

The goons could see the bats eyes soften and gently hug Red Hood back

The goons just stood there in shock but snapped back when the bats eyes travelled to them and regained their usual coldness

"your Boss will be alright, you can go" he commanded them, his hands not stopping the soothing motions on Red Hoods back

The goons contemplated leaving their boss with Batman but eventually decided to leave

And they terrorise Bruce.

Like Bruce really loves them but does not want them there.

Why.

Well Bruce hasn’t had an authority figure since he was eight. Him and Alfred were more like bros tbh. He was his parents inappropriately younger third who was originally hired as a bodyguard under the guise of butler.

Ergo Bruce did not grow up the way they wanted, and he knows.

His father and mother are painfully traditional, in the worst way to Bruce.

They cannot find out he’s had sex, his father will kill them, all. Thomas Wayne is a painfully protective man, especially when it comes to his princess Bruce, never mind Bruce is a 38 year old man and Batman.

Oh lord Batman. And Martha is just an enabler and arguably worst.

“Bruce you could hurt yourself”

“You should take care of yourself”

“Put that down you could hurt yourself, it’s dangerous”

And Bruce was always strange, his parents worked a lot as a child. It’s why they hired Alfred. He learnt his paranoia from somewhere, but Alfred wasn’t exactly parent material and well there was a lot Bruce did that they didn’t know about before they died.

Like learning how to sword fight, sneaking out at night to explore, science experiments in the forest, finding all the hidden passageways in the manor (that one they knew about and Thomas almost had a seizure because “Martha he’s so small he could trip”) and Bruce was so endlessly curious and smart and kept wandering but Thomas and Martha loved they’re little baby boy and NO ONE could convince them they’re little angel stabbed the greasy man at the gala who kept grabbing at Ms Darcy’s rear. Not their little angel, sweet, innocent, angel.

And worse “Bruce if anyone and I mean anyone comes up to you, you tell me alright” “no dating till your at least 25” “marriage first Bruce” his father was a proud Italian man and his mother was raised in Russia.

And he his beautiful children found them wandering around Gotham and thought Bruce would love to see them, why wouldn’t Bruce, brooding Bruce love to see his loving amazing perfect parents, the ones he’s been giving them small heavily edited stories about. Bruce may be floored but he’ll love it, what fun bonding.

His children were wonderful, caring, idiots.

No thoughts, only baby Bruce riding on his papa’s shoulders, mind ice cream in his tiny hand, much to Alfred’s utter dismay. “You’re getting so big, bunny! Oh don’t look so salty. He likes it.”

“If he wakes up and likes tigers, shall we commence to that, too?”

“Siberian tigers, sure.”

“T’ger,” Bruce just started speaking and it’s the most adorable and beautiful thing he’s ever heard. Thomas can’t deny himself peppering kisses all over him, and Alfred, too.

His hair shivers.

Carmine Falcone approaches them with a sharp eye. “Thomas Wayne outside and walking. Didn’t think I’d see you. And who’s this?” He’s bad at appearing harmless. Bruce hides behind Thomas’ head, peeking at him through his eyelashes.

Thomas’ radiant smile vanishes in something cold. “My baby.”

“My future competition,” he hums, “Pretty little thing. Like his daddy.”

A flat silence snows over them, and Thomas gently passes his baby boy to a still, smiling that switchblade smile of him.

“Let’s talk, Carmy.”

—

“Listen here, ya rat bastard,” He sneers, smile manic and eyes wide, like a scorned serpent baring its fangs, forearm pressed tight against Carmine’s throat. He watches that little vermin thrash and wheeze.

Thomas’ accent is honeyfire, drawling like a whiskey river and booming like lighting. “You even look at my son again, I swear on my mama’s body, boy, I’ll dig up your piece of shit daddy and make you eat the skin. You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Don’t fucking play with me, Falcone. “

“I swear,” he groans, clawing at Thomas’ arm, but he doesn’t even feel it, that’s how enraged he is. “On my father’s name, I swear.”

If I were a fanfic writer...

I would write about how Bruce spent the first like 7 years as Batman passively suicidal. Let's be honest, Batman holds a lot of hurt feelings and darkness at the beginning. While his story is one of Hope, he doesn't get there until he takes in hope reincarnate himself.

Just imagine Dick has been living with Bruce for 2 years and has settled into the Robin mantle. And while Bruce is more motivated to model healthy living practices to his ward, he sometimes dips into that dark place. And as man of contingencies, he has an in case I die protocol laid out since his first year as the Bat. Bruce, however, hadn't updated it since getting Dick. Like he isn't actively trying to kill himself. Plus Bruce has been extra careful about safety precaution. Robin is watching after all.

Maybe an incident happens. Someone he couldn't save. It was devasting. Bruce had to comfort Dick for days after because it haunted him and subsequently benched him. And Bruce obsesses. He has let this [insert crime ring or something] terrorize his city for too long. Crime Alley is being devasted and GCPD is working too slow. So Batman obsesses, systematically taking out goons and getting closer and closer to the heart of the operation. Gordon says its risky and Alfred says he's flying to close to the sun. But the darkness is telling Batman to take [crime organization] down for good. He slowly distances himself from Dick, throwing himself into the case.

Finally, he's done it. Batman has taken down [crime organization]'s line of defense so thoroughly he can eradicate everything. Normally, he'd ask for backup for a take down but Gordon was clearly not on board. It's fine, Batman can do it himself. The day of, he finishes all his business with WE, the Justice League, and Batman stuff- just in case... of course. He wasn't trying to kill himself. He is so focused on his mission, he barely notices how agitated Dick is. The boy can sense something off but Bruce is a brick wall. Bruce eat dinner with Dick and Alfred before he bids the good night and goes down to the Cave. Dick is benches tonight because he haa a test in the morning. Bruce check through everything twice before he heads out.

Long story short, he technically succeeds in knocking out the boss and a house full of goons. He gathers their files and contacts onto a drive for Gordon. Batman only suffered from a severe concussion, a bullet wound to the shoulder, a deep gash in the abdomen, some bruised ribs, a sprained ankle, and some other minor wounds. But he didn't die...yet.

Batman instinctually calls the Batmobile as he stumbles into an alleyway and braces himself against the wall.

As the adrenaline fades, the pain hits his body in waves. When did he lay down? He feels warm seeping from his body as spots dance into his eye. He can't take a deep breathe...Bruce feels like he's dying... He is dying, he realizes. He's bleeding out. But it's ok, his business is handled, Bruce always knew the risk.

He hears a small gasp as a small shadow enters his field of vision. It's talking to him, but Bruce can only hear the waves of pain crashing into him. Who knew bleeding out stung so much. His head pounds as an engine roars closer and closer. Suddenly, he feel tiny hand pressing into the bullet wound. White hot pain radiates from his stomach. He thinks he cries out.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry but we need help!" A small voice says.

If Bruce was more aware, he'd hear how thick with tears the voice was. The shadow continues wrapping his shoulder and his vision goes dark for a second. At least he thinks it does.

He's startled awake when the small voice cries out. It sounds like a name. The voice is desparate and loud. Bruce's head pounds.

Then there's another person. His eyesight was blurry, all he could see were smudges of blue and red. It was speaking to him.

All Bruce could do was groan.

"We need to go, there's no time!" The shadow wasn't speaking to Bruce.

He feel strong arms lift him up and he chokes. His body is burning. He tries to escape the hold. As he pulls against his stomach wound, he passes out.

And then something about him waking up in the Watchtower infimary to a distressed Dick who thought he lost another parent or something. Maybe a sequence that represents thin line of life and death while he's passes out. And his only life line is a songbird and then he finally wakes up. Cue friends yell at him for being irresponsible. A little "you mean so much to me" perhaps a "were you trying to die?" Dick says something tragically profound, Bruce realizes how much the kid meana to him. Comfort and fluff stuff.

Everyone in the Wayne Mansion family room stops and stares. Essentially everbody is over for dinner, an absolutely imperfect time for Damian to ask such a question. Alfred is at least pretending to be dusting throw pillows, but Bruce knows that his ears haven't dulled with the decades.

Bruce takes a deep breath. He's known this day would come, but he thought he'd have more time...

"By alien, I assume you're referring to Clark."

Damian nods once. "Yes, Father. The interloper."

Bruce fights the urge to sigh again. "Clark and I are... complicated."

And oh no, everyone in the room thinks. "Complicated" is a serious step for Bruce, who has always dismissed similar accusations with "Absolutely not," or some such insistence.

Bruce, reading their minds, winces. Clark will never be safe in this household again.

As with many other Wayne family traditions, it all started because Bruce was sleep deprived and a little delirious. He had just adopted Dick not even a year ago, but they had their routines. On patrol, Bruce could tell when the boy was lagging behind just a little bit more than usual and sitting down, bereft of cartwheels, on every rooftop. He recognised the signs that Dick would not, in fact, be walking back to the Batcave after this and he would need to be carried.

So Bruce took his sleepy little robin home in his arms, helped him change out of his costume, and tucked him into bed. But Jesus, Bruce was sleepy, too. He'd been up for maybe four days, and all he could really process was that Dick looked so peaceful and happy, worming into three layers of thick blanket after a long night, and he pressed the softest, sleepiest goodnight kiss into his son's head before dragging himself to bed.

Every night after that, Dick simply would not go to sleep without a goodnight kiss. The boy would be half unconscious, for christs sake, but his little hands could grip Bruce's sleeve like a vice. Bruce pretended to think it was a little ridiculous, but what was he going to do? Watch Dick lose vital rest so he could save his grumpy reputation? To this day, sometimes Dick will shamble into the batcave, half dead to the world, and sleepily whine until he gets a kiss and a pat on the head.

Jason has ridiculed them about this endlessly, but the joke is on him, because all robins forever are doomed to love Mom Bruce Kisses.