Batty bruce

I am just a little girl asking for superbat to become cannon and lover of bottom bruce wayne

[yoshidatommy]

Superman and Batman from two separate universes drawn as Sergio Cupido's "Romeo and Juliet" painting 💔

Sidenote: I had already considered to do it before, but the SECOND time "The Batman: Part II" was supposed to come out in the same year as Corensupes-related movie only to get delayed is what gave me the final push

Without rendering bcs I like it that way too and so that you would see Battinson without his eyeshadows:

[stillnotmollified]

some of you weren’t around for the fan fiction dot net purge of 2002 (when they banned explicit content and mass-deleted thousands of fics) and the livejournal purge of 2007 (when they deleted hundreds of blogs, disproportionately targeting queer & kink content) and it shows

this kind of policing is why ao3 was created

remember, kids, the three laws of fandom are:

- don’t like; don’t read

- your kink is not my kink

- ship and let ship

[rembrandtswife]

your kink is not my kink *but your kink is okay* don't forget that part

[superman-creampieing-batman]

The rest of the justice lords trying not to cackle out loud after hearing lord Superman growl and whisper in lord Batman's ears that Daddy will give his Kitten the whole world as a present because they will lowkey get incinerated and mangled into bloody goop.

[superman-creampieing-batman]

If the people won't mind would y'all reblog this with more superbat CEO x yn imagines! PLEASE I'M BORED

[wedgebox]

Idk if we’re being dead-ass or not but here we go:

Anytime another member of the league gets too interested or touchy-feely with Bruce, Clark takes everything within him to not claim Bruce right then in there, only reserving it to harsh whispers of possession and claiming touches in (barely) closed doors, not wanting to embarrass Bruce fully out of wanting to preserve SOME seriousness as leaders but also get the picture across that Bruce is his. 🖤🩶

Due to how unserious the YN x CEO dynamic is, I fully believed that Clark’s jealousy would be unhinged no matter who or what you are.

Another fellow member? Hands off his girl.

Little kid? HANDS OFF NOW.

Innocent dog? HANDS OFF HIS WIFE, HEY— /ref (if you’ve watched Danny Gonzalez then you probably know)

[brucedefender4eva]

After Bruce came home from the time stream, it was still awkward around Damian. They didn’t know how to interact with each other, and now that they actually had the time to do so, it became ever more apparent

They’re making steady progress, slowly getting to know each other, learning how to live with each other

It’s fine, slow, but fine. They’re doing well

Then Damian gets sick

Bruce has taken care of sick children. Damian had never been sick or taken care of. He’s wary, unsure, and doesn’t know what to do when his body is failing him. Bruce can help, he insists

Sickness is a sign of weakness. He’s been told Batman would expect perfection from him at every turn and there would be no room for mistakes. Realizing that Batman wasn’t the one he should watch out for, but Bruce, was jarring, especially because it was the complete opposite of what he expected

“And… he’s always like this?” Damian questioned softly, swaddled under a pound of blankets in his bed, phone pressed to his heated cheek

“Yeah, I promise. He’s done it with all of us a million times over.” Dick chuckled from the phone. “He’s not underestimating you, or whatever is going on in that head of yours. He just wants to take care of you.”

Damian pressed his lips together and gave a decisive nod. “Thank you, Grayson.”

Dick gave an affirmative hum over the phone. “I’ll come see you next week, when you’re hopefully better. Can’t be getting little kid germs. See ya, little D.”

Just as he hangs up, Bruce walks through his bedroom door, with an awkward air around him. “Okay… It’s time for your medicine again.” He glanced over at the half-empty bowl of soup. “Good, you’ve eaten something.”

The air is still awkward around both of them as Bruce sits on the edge of his bed, holding one of those little plastic cups full of the dreadful grape-flavored medication.

“Father,” Damian starts after downing the entire thing in one gulp. “This is truly disgusting.”

That gets a smile out of Bruce. He chuckles softly and reaches over to press the back of his hand against Damian’s cheek. “I’ve heard that before. While it may taste disgusting, your fever has gone down; I think it’ll break tonight at the latest.”

Damian lets out a little yawn, and Bruce's face softens even more than the young boy could think possible

“Your body has been working hard to fight this sickness… why don’t you take a small nap?” Bruce murmured, gently unwrapping Damian from his blanket burrito so his son didn’t overheat

“Will you…” Damian let out a small cough, his cheeks flooding with warmth that had nothing to do with his current ailment. “Will you stay until I fall asleep… Baba?”

Bruce’s breath audibly hitched, and the older man froze. Damian, for a second, thought he went too far. Then, Bruce’s hand, large and warm despite the scars, landed on his back and started moving in gentle, comforting circles

“Of course, Habibi, I’m not going anywhere.”

Feeling his father's soothing hand rubbing his back, Damian felt all stress and tension leave his body as his eyes slowly closed.

Now, whenever Damian is sick, he demands that his Baba rub his back every night, and whenever his body demands that he needs a nap. It eventually evolves to the point where Damian asks Bruce to rub his back even when he's not asleep

The others are jealous and want Dad back rubs since Damian freely praises them, but Damian's the only one who actually asks. They can stew in their jealousy while Damian takes full advantage of his Baba

[samtf]

reblog to give a strawberry to the person you reblogged this from

[occasionalauthoring]

Can I get some alpha Clark/omega Bruce stuff plsplsplspls!! You're my favvvv I want some superbat stuff from you soon badd!! I've read EVERYTHING from your blog!!!

Sent 06/12/25. I know that I apologised already but I could not come up with a single idea. Believe me when I say this has caused me intense distress.

Also, thank you @superman-creampieing-batman I have now learnt that bears purr like little helicopters from watching videos of them cuddling.

Unfortunately bear and panther does not seem to be one of the peculiar pairings out there, the closest I got was a bear and a tiger. Which, naturally, was the inspiration for this.

"Get off me."

Clark ignores him entirely, draped over his back, nibbling at his ear. His long claws are fully extended, flexing happily over Bruce's ribs.

His ear flicks away from the irritation, but Clark doesn't seem to mind the fur surely tickling his cheek, chasing it to capture in his mouth again.

Bruce cannot understand why his alpha does this, the stupid bear, but nonetheless every cuddle session has Bruce feeling like he mated a mutt the way he gets chewed on like a damn dog toy.

He swipes back with a clawed hand, and as he feels the threads of flannel split under his touch, his mate's purr stumbles slightly, and the next gnaw on his ear has a bit more tooth to it, a reprimand.

"Stop it," he grouches, voice muffled around a mouthful of ear. "Silly cat."

"Oh great, caveman mode."

Clark gnaws on him again, but it's lulled back to his usual languid pace, and Bruce thrashes his tail angrily, trapped under the bear.

"Stupid bear."

"Hm?" Clark asks, sounding genuinely curious to hear what Bruce said, and curse him, he can feel all of his irritation melt away in an instant.

He sighs, a fed up puff of air, and shakes his head.

"Nothing, my love."

Bruce gives up, turning in his mate's embrace, and stretches languidly, raising his arms above his head and arching his spine before allowing his arms to fall back down and cross behind his alpha's neck.

Clark's helicopter purr seems to get even louder now they are face-to-face, and Bruce feels his own smooth rumble start up in response, now he's given up on being pissed off.

"So beautiful," Clark whispers, and Bruce nuzzles into his face, feeling his coarse stubble scrape his own smooth cheek.

"I love you, my mate." Bruce breathes the words into Clark's skin, pressed so close together he's almost going cross-eyed trying to keep eye contact.

Clark's eyes shine brightly at the words, and his smile is warm against Bruce's own lips when he aligns them.

"I love you too, my mate," he rumbles.

Bruce finds himself dragged down, pinned again as Clark wraps around him tightly, and wishes he was the one with laser vision as he glares at his husband's chest as his ear is slobbered over and gummed at.

"You're lucky I love you," Bruce grumbles, settling in to go to sleep. He flicks his tail over himself, feeling for Clark's waistband, and threads the tip through his belt loop so he can keep hold of him through the night (not that Clark would ever let go of him).

He might be a stupid bear, but he's Bruce's stupid bear.

[superman-creampieing-batman]

Cat hybrid Bruce but every time he has a severe mental breakdown—the kind that has him screaming and scratching at his own skin as if he's trying to skin himself alive —he curls in on himself and his tail subconsciously starts to wrap around his neck like a noose, ready to pass the judgement he's been scared of waiting for decades.

[supermans-babygirl-bruce]

VAL WHO HURT YOU?? why are you suddenly in the angst enemy territory??

[superman-creampieing-batman]

IDK?!? I was just chilling when this hit me like a truck.

Like the image of Bruce hyperventilating and choking on his sobs as he's covered in his own blood because of scratching himself, not feeling anything until his tail starts to get tight around his neck and he doesn't stop it until he gets too lightheaded and out of it and the pressure only eases up because he can't clench his tail any longer.

Clark sees it after a mission gone awry and follows Bruce back to his quarters worried sick for the man he loves and he is horrified as he witnesses the whole thing.

[superman-creampieing-batman]

Cat hybrid Bruce but every time he has a severe mental breakdown—the kind that has him screaming and scratching at his own skin as if he's trying to skin himself alive —he curls in on himself and his tail subconsciously starts to wrap around his neck like a noose, ready to pass the judgement he's been scared of waiting for decades.

[arennx]

puppyboy clark kent SPREAD THE AGENDA Thank you. again service top clark not bottom clark❤️❤️❤️❤️

[three-semicolons]

The funniest part of clearing the older Batman/Detective Comics stuff is realizing how much of Dick and Bruce’s modern Dickbin relationship is retcon.

Like where is the constant aggressive fighting and lack of cohesion??? My brothers are openly talking about how empty their lives are without each other. You could not find two people more content and cohesive as partners.

I blame Marv.

[arkangelo-7]

Lex Luthor hates Superman, Lex Luthor hates the Justice League, bla bla bla… You know who Lex must really hate? Bruce Wayne.

Because he knows that bitch is Batman. He’d worked it through that big brain of his and he’s without a doubt certain that the same idiot who spilled champagne on him last New Year’s Eve moonlights as the Batman.

But he can’t fucking prove it. So he’s resigned to a lifetime of having to make stilted conversation filled with double meaning while Brucie just flutters his eyelashes and pretends to be a ditz. And Lex just has to sit there and take it, because Bruce knows that Lex knows and absolutely uses that knowledge to fuck with Alex at every opportunity—he says the absolute shittest, godawful pickup lines and flirts to his heart’s content, knowing full well that he helped Superman kick Lex’s ass last week and that Lex knows it was him.

[haveihitanerve]

BatLantern 'domestic' where their flirting genuinely makes them sound like Villains even tho they're heroes

Bruce: *flirting* Is that a knife? Hal: *flirting back* Yeah want a closer look? Bruce: *flirting intensifies* I can help you sharpen it ~ Hal: *flirting* Baby there's this ache in my chest every time I see you but can't touch you Bruce: *completely serious* oh, yeah that's because the last time you got hurt I was the person who gave you pain medication so your body associates me with pain relief. Hal: *still turned on* ... right ~ Bruce: You weren't supposed to catch the batarang with your chest. Hal: Hey man, a hickey is temporary but scars are forever. Clark: Serious what the fuck is wrong with you two

[superbatismyreligion]

clark don't be jealous that you cannot have scars and stop being a little party pooper

[corneliaavenue-ao3]

Reblog to give prev the power to write their fanfiction

[gnar-slabdash]

Reblog to give prev the TIME to write their fanfiction

[naamahdarling]

Comment on prev's fic to give prev ENCOURAGEMENT to write their fanfiction

[linren-linduil]

Reblog to give prev the ENERGY to write their fanfiction

[bruce-wayne-enjoyer]

There should be a warning label to anyone who decides to date Bruce Wayne.

But then again, the line of people who actually want to commit to the person and not the status or legend attached to it is decidedly long, and Hal was determined to be the last person to ever date Bruce Wayne for the rest of their lives, thank you very much.

Still, Hal wished he had a forewarning. Maybe an instruction manual or an introductory pamphlet or sorts.

Because he wasn't prepared for this, okay!

When Hal committed to being in a relationship with Bruce Batman Wayne, he was prepared to have an emotionally conflicted partner who had the clingy body of a brick oven. Hal was prepared to get into stupid fights more often. Hal was prepared to be iffy about the money and intrigue surrounding their entanglement.

What he didn't anticipate was Bruce being CUTE.

This lack of preparation could kill a man.

Maybe Hal WAS dead and he was in heaven.

The version of "heaven" for him, apparently, involved living in a world where Bruce, stoic man that he is, pampers him and calls him sweet names.

A "Good morning, lovely" as Hal is woken up by peppered kisses and a warm body pressing him into the covers

Then a "Let me get that for you, darling" as Bruce opens doors for him

With a dash of "Do you like it, dearest?" as Bruce models a nice coat on, shyly smiling at him for his attention

And a side of "May I, love?" as Bruce leans in for a kiss, blushing like crazy even after weeks to months of dating

Like? How! How is Hal meant to survive living the rest of his life with this man!? He's going to have a heart attack. Hal is gonna have cardiac arrest. If Bruce goes as far as to send him a blown kiss, Hal will actually just dissolve into a giggly mess.

[katebeckets]

In theory, maybe I get the “we’re all just playing with barbies, they’re fictional characters, no interpretation is incorrect because it’s an interpretation” argument. But actually no, not all takes are equally valid. Framing something as an interpretation doesn’t mean it inherently has merit. Some takes are completely incorrect and betray a fundamental misunderstanding of the source material. They just aren’t a reason to harass people or send death threats

[overseer-picard]

[occasionalauthoring]

Ok so, been scrolling through your blog; dick is not Damian's father, as we all know. For the sake of this the rest of the batkids Also know (obvs they know who their dad is), but the JL don't. Like,, Damian showed up on their radar while Bruce was 'dead'/lost in the time stream so they put 1+1 and get 47, assuming that the new robin is nightwing's kid, and then get mad/'joke' that Bruce is trying to steal someone else's baby

And then idk after that

Bruce can't bring himself to say anything. Dick handed Damian off to Bruce the first chance he got, ruffling the boy's hair and laughing "glad to be rid of you" as he headed out and Damian smiled at his back.

But...

Damian still doesn't really know how to act around Bruce. He was raised with the idea of The Bat, the one The Demon Head chased to be his heir.

He came to Gotham and was met with a grieving, fractured family, no Bat to be seen. Dick had admitted, as he and Bruce sat in the study, the lights low, untouched glasses of bourbon in front of each of them, that he too had talked Bruce up to the boy.

Then Bruce had come back.

And he cannot live up to any of Damian's expectations of him. The boy... Bruce loves him. Immesurably. It's peculiar, maybe, to say that when he has only known him a matter of months, but he remembers his grief ten years ago as Talia told him their baby died, he remembers sending her flowers on the anniversary every year since, and there is now a little boy in front of him, a receptacle for all of that love he had nowhere to put except an ex wife he did not want to burden with his grief.

He supposes they might both be looking for something in the other that isn't there.

Maybe that is why he doesn't say anything, the first few times he overhears comments about 'Nightwing's kid.' No one seems to notice him leave shortly after, so he just...keeps doing it.

Maybe that's why, when he sees Kon nudge Damian with his elbow at Nightwing's approach and tease "Uh oh, Dad's here", and he simply slips away, he doesn't realise how things unfold after his departure.

Not until a tiny hand thunders on his bedroom door, and when he opens it an equally tiny body plasters itself against his legs, that cherubic little face peering up at him to swear that "You are my father, Father."

[occasionalauthoring]

hello so drawing on some things said to me and making it more extreme for bruce

what if bruce talks about his special interests very passionately but to his kids he rambles and hes embarrassing

so they sit him down and say let's draw up a code to let u know when ur talking too much

maybe its simple 'B' but drawn out or lilting im not sure

and then they tell bruce thats his priot to say "sorry im rambling" or something along those lines and shut up

and bruce views it positively as its something Alfie did for him to train him for society

and hes thankful "I dont know when to stop talking sometimes, I dont pick up when I've become boring, thank you for this"

and maybe it spirals to the JL using it and the kids teaching their teams

maybe its used so often bc bruce was comfortable enough to ramble passionately and now he realises people were finding excuses to leave and were half asleep

maybe bruce goes back to the non verbal state he was in as a child with Alfie's corrections and rules

and no one really notices theyre just grateful he's learned and it was never intended to be cruel it was ignorance

maybe Harvey does or Harley or Khoa im not sure..

I've had half formed ideas about this but im not that coherent with words so if this is something you'd like to build on please do, im always in awe by your writing. but please dont feel any pressure and ignore if not something you're interested in, its very long

I really hate to stray from anon's preferred characters, but can I do Talia? Please? You can't answer before I write this so I'm sorry.

"B."

"Bruce."

"Beeee."

"Bruce."

"B."

It's a sound that is familiar. All the way back in time to when Richard was young, and he would tear around calling beloved's name for attention, full of wonder, and joy, and childish jealousy.

But that is not what she hears now.

No.

It is not a call for attention, but for silence.

A reprimand for daring to express himself.

Her beloved is a quiet man. He has been, ever since they were teens together under her father's watchful eye, but she misses his loudness. Those moments inbetween, where he would laugh, or cry, or make those cherished noises when none of the languages he new would suffice for the emotions he felt.

She understands why his cackle left. Why he hides that away, after she saw him flinch at his own laugh, memories of a white face and stretched red lips stripping the joy from the moment.

She remembers helping him form a new laugh, a muted chuckle that was nothing like the one he had before, one he trained into himself so firmly you would never be able to tell it wasn't his real laugh.

She does not understand why his voice has left. His smile. Him.

She does not recognise the man before her.

She married Bruce Wayne, and has loved every iteration of him, even with their differences. She does not love this man. He makes her heart ache, her stomach twist, her very bones itch from discomfort.

It is like standing toe-to-toe with a mimic. Everything looks right, but it is hollow. Dispassioned. Dead.

She waits, biding her time, until she cannot anymore.

Bruce's bedroom door is not locked when she tries the handle. It never is. He would not deny his children access to him, and she curses his selflessness. He truly has nowhere to be his own space.

She steps in, closing the door behind her, and the figure on the bed slumps back, a shuriken clattering onto the bedside table.

"Tee."

"Bruce."

She locks the door before padding across the soft carpet, sliding onto the bed. He lifts the duvet for her, and she presses close, enveloped in warmth beneath the plush bedding.

"You okay?" he murmurs sleepily, pressing his lips to the side of her head, and she allows him to wrap her in his arms.

That is one thing she cherishes about the two of them. No matter how many times he is shut down, or dismissed, or reshapes his relationship with someone, with everyone, and he pulls back, stops touching, stops talking, stops hugging, and kissing, and being, it does not touch the two of them.

"No, beloved." He tenses beneath her, and she strokes his thigh. "Calm."

He does as she says, relaxing again, through she can still feel the worry in his stare, searching her face in the darkness. "What can I do?"

"You can come back to me." She presses closer, sliding into his lap, cupping his face. "I do not know why you are not allowed to talk anymore, or express excitement, or simply be yourself within your own home, but beloved..." She strokes a hand across his cheeks, tugs almost teasingly on the top of his ear. "You are not yourself. I know the man I married, I know the man I had a son with, and I know the man I love even if we have been separated for longer than our son has been alive. That is not the man I have seen for the past week." She looks into his eyes, imploring. "Where did he go?"

He cries.

He cries, and she holds him, and eventually he tells her about being too much, and not enough, and he knows that he needs it, that he doesn't know how to act right, but their training feels cruel, he cannot make himself welcome it, he feels like an intruder on his own family.

Talia cries.

She cries, and he holds her, because she cannot fathom how he has been living. How he has been believing he acts inherently wrong, and must be corrected and trained like a wild dog. Talia cannot fathom treating an animal like that, let alone a man. A friend. A father.

They cry.

They cry, and they hold each other all night, until the sun is creeping around the curtains, and their eyes have run dry.

The butler raps on the door and Bruce calls an acknowledgement, so he bustles off again to ready the rest of the morning.

They shower together, not quite ready to part yet, he smears moisturiser on her nose and they giggle together, his electric toothbrush dies halfway through and she chokes on her toothpaste at his indignant expression.

He ties a towel around his waist and lets her borrow his dressing gown, and she closes her eyes as he combs through and blow dries her hair. He signals he's done by inserting a slobbery finger into her ear and the doorway to his walk-in chips as the brass statue on his shelf becomes abruptly airborne.

He locks himself in there and she steals his slippers to return to her own room, but when she exits, he is there with a sheepish grin to press a kiss to her cheek, and she lounges on his bed as he styles his own stubborn hair. Nearly forty years of existence and he still fights with his mother's cowlicks just as fruitlessly, cursing his Kane lineage until she cannot breathe for laughing.

Time ticks on through the morning, and Talia sees the door handle twitch. And again. Bruce does not notice, but she does.

They go down to breakfast at time that has never even heard the word 'punctuality', and all sort of suspicious looks are earned.

Bruce tenses but does not address it, and Talia plucks Damian out of his seat next to Bruce's own, sliding into place. Her son gapes at her, and she presses a kiss to his cheek, stealing his hashbrown before he snaps to and snatches his plate away, kissing her cheek in return before stomping off to the next available seat.

The butler is stiffly silent as he delivers their plates, radiating disapproval, but Talia just thanks him demurely and smacks at Bruce's hand when his fork creeps onto her plate.

Conversation around the room resumes stiffly, and some time in, she sees Bruce's attention snap to Timothy's conversation with Richard.

She pokes his ankle with her toe, and for a moment she thinks he won't do anything, but then he turns to her, a shy smile on his face.

"Do you remember the summer we spent in that conservation centre in Australia?"

She tilts her head. "Yes?"

He launches into an explanation, and she slowly sees the links form between the memories and the conversation across the room.

They give him two minutes.

The rage that fills her as a lilting "Beeee~" comes from further down the table is incandescent, but she contains it within herself.

Bruce falters, but only for a moment, and keeps talking. She twines their ankles together, hoping he can feel her pride in him, and listens.

Another minute.

"B."

Firmer this time.

Bruce swallows, discomfort flickering through his eyes, and keeps going.

His point begins to conclude, but Talia can feel confused, indignant stares coming from her other side, so she asks him how the land formations affect the migratory patterns, and watches his eyes light up.

He launches into the new branch of the topic, and she allows smugness to suffuse her.

She will stay however long it takes for her beloved to be allowed to exist in his own home again. They will not stifle him.

[mylifeisfruk4ever]

Imagine how angry Dick would be.

He hates Talia. She hurts Bruce ( no more than he did, but he was always better at accuse people than see his own errors.)

The worse part is that Talia stays. She doesn't go away after a day or a week. She stays. And he can't stand it.

Dick: How dare she be here, we don't want her.

Damian: You don't want her. But mother make him happy.

Dick: nonsense, he is happy only because someone listen to him.

Damian: so, this is because he is never happy with us. We never listen to him, or let him talk about the things he likes.

Dick tries to replay, but how could he? He was the one who tought Damian how make Bruce shout down. To be honest, he tought it to a lot of people. But come on, who wants to listen to Bruce ramblings for hours? It's so noisy! And boring and...

Talia Al Ghoul wants to listen to Bruce. Because she loves him.

She loves Bruce more than Dick ever did.