#soft bruce wayne

[happynicescientist]

The Justice League responded immediately to an active earthquake site where people were hiding, running for their lives and rushing to safety. The rest of the afternoon was spent in retrieving people from under the rubbles, reuniting families and assisting the responders in locating children and pet animals.

"Come on, little guy," Flash coaxed, sticking his arm through a narrow crevice of the rubble towards a toddler who was covered in dust from head to toe. Curled in on himself, his face covered with his two fat little hands, he was sobbing and hiccuping uncontrollably.

"Need an assist?" Wonder Woman asked, as she flew up near Flash, who nodded graciously in response.

"Careful," Flash said, keeping an eye on the kid as she heaved up the rubble before carefully throwing it aside. More dust fell on the toddler as he started to wail louder. Flash quickly snatched him up in his hold, shushing him.

"Hey, little guy. You're safe," Flash said, giving him a disarming grin, but the kid just had his dust covered eyes clamped shut. He was sobbing with drool and snot and dust on his face as he simply tried to tear himself out of Flash's grasp, pushing back his chest with his little arms.

"Oo- okay. You don't like me. It's alright. I'm sure you're just scared," Flash said, his grin turing awkward.

"Hey, young warrior. Where are your parents?" Wonder Woman asked, as she tenderly tried to hold his hand but he just smacked it away. This just made Diana smile amusedly

"Feisty one, aren't we?"

"Is that the last of them?" Batman asked, just as he landed near them with the help of his grappler line, followed by Superman landing near them from above.

"I think so. My x-ray vision doesn't show anymore people beneath the rubble," Superman supplied.

"Well, uh, a little help here?" Flash said, as he awkwardly kept hold on a little wailing gremlin who kept trying to fiercely wriggle out of his grasp.

"Whoa," Superman said, startled, as they all turned to look at the source of the noise.

"Let me see," Batman said, as he gestured with his hand, which poked out through his cape covering his body.

Flash didn't say it but he hesitated, as he gave him a "are you sure look?" At Batman's glare, he quickly held up the wriggling kid and plopped him into Batman's arms.

"I'm gonna go make another sweep; make sure everyone's been led to safety," Flash said evasively, pointing with his thumb before he sped off in the blink of an eye.

The kid sobbed, before screaming as he weakly threw punches on Batman's chest and shoulders with his little fists.

"Hold still," Batman said, in a slightly more hushed tone than his usual growly voice. He drew up a part of his cape and cleaned off the dust and snot from his face and nose. By then, the kid was still whimpering, but his struggles had gotten much weaker. He firmly grasped the wailing kid's chin, before rubbing his gloved thumbs on the kids' eyes. "Can you open them?"

The kid breathed raspily, his chest still heaving from silent sobs, but he complied as he opened his eyes with some difficulty.

"Can you see?" Batman asked. The kid made eye contact with him, his scrunched eyes still responsive. "Good."

He was still sniffling, but now, instead of fiercely trying to break free, he suddenly buried himself deeper into Batman's chest, his face completely covered.

"What a surprise," Diana said, amused, as she put a hand on her hip.

"I'm not sure why he's so calm all of a sudden, but at least he's not scared anymore," Superman said, observing them curiously.

To be honest, this wasn't the first time he had seen Batman expertly handle children and teens, though when it came to especially small children, they usually had to be the one to step in instead because the very young ones would often get frightened by Batman's appearance. This time, however, it seemed like the opposite happened somehow.

"Hn. We need to find his family so we can return him as soon as possible," Batman said, matter of factly, as he looked over his teammates. Unconsciously, he ruffled the toddler's dust covered curly hair.

"Alright. Lead the way," Diana said, before she and Superman flew off the rubble and Batman followed with his grappling line, gingerly holding the child close to him with one arm.

"You all done? I have temporarily patched up most of the damages, I think, " Green Lantern said, just as he landed on the ground near them. He glanced at the toddler, who was tightly hugging Batman, now half covered with the cape. "Another one?"

"Yes. Last one left. Let us split up and look for his family. They must be really worried."

"I mean, yeah. No shit," Hal Jordan snorted.

"Take J'onn with you, Clark," Batman said.

"Got it. I'll see where he is right now," Superman said.

"For what, exactly? Are you gonna make him read everyone's minds?" Hal Jordan asked. Just then, the almost sleepy looking toddler stirred, before he murmured something.

"....ama."

Superman's eyebrows shot up, looking genuinely taken aback

"What? Did he say something?" Hal Jordan asked. Diana raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"... Hm?" Batman looked down at the toddler who wriggled his arms again, his face buried.

".... Ma...ma."

"Wait what?" Hal Jordan exclaimed, thinking he heard wrong

Diana burst out laughing.

Superman chuckled nervously.

Even Batman seemed caught off guard, his mouth somewhat opened before he quickly clamped it shut

"Ain't no way.... ain't no way that kid just called you- " Hal Jordan stopped short, as Batman threw a glare his way, but he couldn't stop the embarrassed chuckles that were escaping him now. "Ain't no way! This is the funniest thing to happen during the entire day! Batman being called mama by some rando kid!"

"Ehem. W-well, I'll go look for J'onn, then," Superman said, still smiling awkwardly before he took off.

"He's probably delirious," Batman deadpanned, as he covered him further with the cape.

"Yeah, sure why not, Spooky," Hal Jordan said, laughing, still holding his belly as he was bent over.

"Most probably, " Diana said, with an amused smile, her arms crossing as she took in the sight of Batman and the toddler wrapped in his cape once again.

"Yeah, I mean," Hal Jordan said, flicking a tear out of his eye as he recovered, "as good as you are with kids, you can't just- "

"Batman got called what??" Flash exclaimed as he came to a stop before them.

Batman couldn't hold back a ragged sigh.

"This random toddler called him mama! Can you believe it?"

"Zip it, Hal Jordan."

"Are you sure it's not one of your own spawns?"

"We're done talking," Batman narrowed his white lenses, but he could only look so much as intimidating when he had a toddler held close to him, warmly wrapped in his cape.

"Maybe you really are some sort of creature of the night that collects children or something- "

Batman glared.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay. But it's still funny."

Batman turned to Diana, decidedly ignoring Hal Jordan.

"Although he doesn't seem to have any visible injuries, I'll still have to drop him off with the paramedics, just in case," Batman told her. Consequently, he soon began to make his way to some of the ambulances.

".... Is he embarrassed, perchance?" Flash asked, leaning in to whisper near Hal Jordan's ear

"Oh, definitely," Hal said with a smirk. "I'm never gonna let this go. I know Spooky might eventually kill me for it, but it'll be totally worth it."

"Well, he doesn't kill, remember?" Flash said, with a chuckle.

"Oh yeah, good one."

"Alright, I think that's enough teasing for one day," Diana said, though she still couldn't help one last giggle at the whole situation. "I'll go and check if Superman has found J'onn yet." With that, she took off into the skies.

They watched as Batman talked with the paramedics, speaking and nodding, before they brought out a gurney. Batman uncovered his cape and tried to put the toddler down, but this time, he squirmed and tried to hold on. He started whimpering louder and louder, as he stubbornly held onto Batman's shoulders like a koala.

This only made them chuckle again as they watched the cool calm stoic Batman struggling awkwardly to put down the crying toddler, drawing the attention of the other bystanders around them.

"Never thought I would see such day," Hal Jordan said, laughing again.

Flash shook his head, grinning widely, his jowls hurting. "Me too."

Finally, just as the paramedics held down the toddler and attempted, in turns, to comfort him, Batman quickly took off before he joined them again.

"Aren't you sad you had to leave your kid behind... mama?" Hal Jordan said.

Batman shot him an extremely irked look which immediately sobered up Flash, who dropped his smile. But Hal Jordan boldly kept smirking.

"I'm just joking, Spooky," Hal said, matter of factly.

"Instead of making absurd jokes, you could have sped up the process of finding his parents by joining Superman and the others," Batman growled.

"Geez. They weren't kidding when they said you had zilch sense of humor," Hal Jordan said, flatly, seeing Flash frantically gesturing him to stop, out of the corner of his eye.

Batman glared fiercely at him. "Your idea of humor is rather questionable."

Just then, Flash began to point to the ambulance in the distance. "Look! I think they found his family," Flash exclaimed, internally glad that he managed to find an excuse to interrupt the impending conflict. Hal Jordan and Batman looked in the direction of the ambulance, as the paramedics were joined by Superman and Wonder Woman.

They were followed by Martian Manhunter and two more individuals. First, probably the older sister who quickly rushed to hug her toddler brother in relief as he sat up on the gurney. Then, a taller individual, dressed from head to toe in black. It was a woman, wearing an abaya robe dress and a niqab veil covering her entire face. She immediately rushed to gather her toddler in her arms and, as she lifted up the flap of her niqab just enough to expose her lower half of the face, she gave him fervent kisses on his face and head, rocking as she hugged him in relief, and saying several praises, one after the other.

Hal Jordan's eyes widened, as gears slowly began to turn in his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see that Flash seemed to be coming to the same conclusion, judging by his now slightly agape mouth.

Of course, Hal started it. "Ahhh, I see now... " he said, theatrically, turning to look at Batman. Judging by the limited expression on Batman, Hal could tell he had figured it out, too.

"Poor kid," Flash chuckled nervously. "I don't blame him. He sought comfort in the first thing that seemed familiar to him."

"Which just happened to be a figure who looked very similar to his mother. Isn't that right, Spooky?" Hal Jordan teased, drawing out every word in the last sentence.

Batman stood with his cape covering him fully. His mouth tightened, but then relaxed. "Hn. Makes sense."

[spiders-birds-and-wizards-oh-my]

okay but like i just want a fic where autistic selective mute bruce wayne is a year or two younger than ollie, but was in his classes anyways because he is SMART and so they like grew up together, ollie loves him like his little brother, you know, the usual.

and then, when the justice league is formed (i put both of them in their mid twenties ish, like maybe ollie is 26 and bruce is 24) and ollie just like instinctively recognizes that batman is sorta like his baby brother and like subtly helps him and the league communicate until one day he’s just like hm maybe i should have a conversation with the big scary bat. and i’d imagine it went something like this:

ollie waited for the meeting to end to bring it up, hoping this conversation won’t go too wrong.

“hey, b-man! can we chat in private real quick?” he asks, as the other leaguers are filing out of the room, already having their own conversations.

superman shoots him a strange look, but ollie doesn’t really care about that right now.

batman looks a little constipated, honestly, but oliver knows its most likely not because he is disinterested in having a conversation with him, but more likely because of the abruptness of the request.

he waits patiently, bouncing around on his toes. its a habit he picked up from bruce’s stimming. the kid just always looks so peaceful doing it, and ollie doing it right alongside him usually seemed to make him smile.

batman grunted and turned away, to which oliver smiled and followed him to one of the lead lined rooms built specifically for private conversations.

it’s little things like that, that have convinced ollie even further that the batman doesn’t have any ill intentions towards the league. he’s the only one that thought of creating a safe place for emotions and secrets, even in the workplace.

ollie closed the door behind himself, turning to face an awkwardly still batman. but that’s okay, brucie does that, too, when he is unsure of where he stands.

“i just wanted to talk to you about some of the miscommunication present between some of the leaguers. this isn’t my place, and feel free to punch me if you’d like, but i’ve noticed a few similarities in your and my brother’s behavior, and people don’t always take the time to understand him and the way he communicates, and i think the same is happening here.” as he talks, ollie notices the slightly tense line of the bat’s shoulders, the barely-there clench of his hands, the subtle shifts on the balls of his feet, and further adds to the theory he has landed on.

“some of the leaguers seem to think you’re always upset with them, and-“

“why would they think that? i haven’t said anything.” batman speaks for the first time, the cowl scrunching sightly where the man’s eyebrows are under the thick kevlar.

ollie holds back a small smile, mentally reminding himself to go see his little brother soon.

“i know, and i’ve told them that if you were upset with them then you would tell them, but like i said, a lot of people don’t try to understand anyone who think differently than them.” its something he has told bruce many times, and probably will again. “i wanted to propose-“

“oliver?” and this time it isn’t exactly batman’s growl that interrupts him, and that’s what brings oliver’s head shooting up.

the league hadn’t been together but for half a year or so, no one had said anything about identities, and that was that.

ollie’s first instinct is to be mad, angry that batman had found out his identity and seemed to be informing him that he knew.

but then, before he could say another word, batman was reaching for his own cowl, and soon enough, oliver stood facing his little brother.

bruce’s eyes were wide, his cheeks slightly red from where the kevlar had pressed against it. his hair was a mess that alfred absolutely would not approve of, and his little brother was standing in front of him, bat insignia proudly marked on his chest.

he blinked a few times, processing what he was seeing, before-

“brucie?? what the hell man, i-“

“are you mad?” his voice was soft, confused, and his head tilted just a bit. his hands clenching and his feet shifting just a little more.

oliver breathed, in and out, before realizing no, he’s not mad.

“no, bruce, just surprised is all. but really, i shouldn’t be. god, you never grew out of that bat phase, did you?” and now he was smiling, stepping towards his brother and clapping a hand on his shoulder, beaming when the younger shoots a small, relieved smile back in his direction.

it lasts only a moment, before the furrow is back between his brows.

“who thinks i’m mad at them?” that soft, confused voice is back, and ollie wants to punch his friends for putting that face on his brother.

“just lantern and flash, mostly. i’ve tried to explain to them that you aren’t being dismissive or rude, but they don’t seem to believe me. i wanted your permission to talk with them, and maybe some others if you’re okay with that, more in depth about how you are a founding member of this team, and they need to be the ones to do the work in learning that you are communicating, they just aren’t trying to understand.”

oliver is still slightly boggled at the sight of his brother standing in front of him, brows furrowed and hand gently rubbing his chin as he thinks, the batman cowl hanging down over the back of his neck, but delights in the fact that he gets to share something this big, this deep with his brother in all but blood.

“if you think they’ll listen better than the kids at boarding school did, then i suppose we can try.” bruce’s words bring him back to the present, and ollie smiles and smacks a kiss to the younger’s cheek.

“we’ll meet up for lunch later this week or early next week to chat about what details you’re willing to bring up at the next meeting, yeah? haven’t seen alfred or the kids in a bit.” and bruce just gives him that small smile again, and oliver is overjoyed at the thought of seeing this part of his brother, and sharing his own secrets with him.

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 45 (Masterlist)

(Part 46)

@bruciemilf it’s been months bestie but it’s tradition

If you follow me on my main, you know I haven’t actually been gone. I’ve just been on a few side quests. I’m also being fought over by two companies rn so that’s fun (and completely stressful, please I’m just a 22yo teenage girl) but we’re BACK for a limited time! Idk I’ve got like at least five parts in my drafts so let’s see what happens.

TOODLES

[popi-lol]

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑮𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝑰𝒏 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆 𝑴𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒓

Batmom!reader×Bruce Wayne

2.4k words, Domestic fluff, Typical Wayne Family Chaos,

Synopsis:

Who would have expected that a nightgown is a safety hazard?

" I scared you."

" You do that all the time."

Author's note:

This is my first time posting a fic in tumblr. I kinda want to try it out after using Ao3 for the past few years and this idea seemed like a good fit to post in tumblr.

⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨ᰔ୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹

F/n has always been the type to wear nightgowns—from the usual plain, oversized ones meant purely for comfort, to the dramatic, flowy floor-length pieces she adored for their softness and quiet elegance. So when Alfred gifted her Martha’s nightgown—soft silk, ivory in color, with delicate lace bordering the sleeves and collar—on the morning of her wedding to Bruce, she made sure to treasure it.

“ For you my dear.” Alfred presented it to her with a soft smile, the gown folded neatly on his hands as he handed it to her as if he was entrusting her with something sacred. “ This used to be Mrs. Wayne’s— something she wore often whenever she wanted to make the manor feel like home.”

F/n felt her throat tighten as felt the cool silk on her hands, looking down at the clothing as if she was taking a glimpse of a life that existed long before her. When she looked up again, her eyes meeting with the butler’s, a soft smile tugging on her lips.

“ Thanks Alfred.” She whispered, clutching the nightgown towards her chest.

She could see something shift in the man’s eyes—a quiet aching acknowledgement of something she can’t seem to name. The girl knew that it was more than just a piece of clothing. It is a piece of Martha Wayne’s legacy, a silent reminder that now— At last—she, too, is part of the family.

A week into their marriage, F/n decided to wear the nightgown.

She felt the cool silk against her body as she walked around the manor, the fabric shimmering against the moonlight with each soft and measured step. The hallways were quiet, except for the sounds of crickets chirping through the night, the warm glow of the night lamps casting light on her path.

She has the habit of checking on the bat kids if they are sleeping— something that felt natural to her the moment she started dating Bruce.

Once she reached the end of the hallway, a soft sigh escaped from her lips as she headed back to her room with a soft smile tugging on her lips.

F/n wondered what would be Bruce’s reaction. Would he smile? Stare? Or do something unexpected?

A flutter of anticipation brewed in her stomach as she stepped inside the room, greeted by the familiar furniture and decor that felt unmistakably theirs.

Just as when she decided to sit on the bed, she heard the low creek of wooden floorboards—the sounds of footsteps halting.

“ Mother?”

F/n turned around her eyes landing on Bruce, his blue eyes blinking wildly as he gripped on the doorframe— trying, and failing to stop himself from the faint tremor running through him.

She took one careful,uncertain step towards him, studying his face as she tried to find the right words to say.

“ Hey,” she whispered, her gaze softening. “ It’s just me.”

Bruce let out a sharp exhale through his nose, realization washing over him like he was dumped into the cold waters of the ocean. He blinked—once, twice— before speaking up.

“ You scared me.”

A soft laugh escaped from F/n’s lips upon hearing his words, her eyes twinkling in the soft glow of their bedside lamp.

“ You thought I was Martha?” She asked, her tone light but held a hint of amusement.

He pinched the bridge of his nose in response, grumbling something under his breath.

“ I thought I was being forced to confront my childhood trauma through my mother’s apparition.”

F/n was already at his side, smiling softly as she took his hand in hers—warm, steady and grounding.

“ Alfred gave this to me the morning of our wedding.” She whispered, squeezing his hand.

Her thumb brushed over his knuckles as she continued, voice careful, reverent. “He said it was something your mother wore whenever she wanted the manor to feel like home.”

Bruce went still at that.

For a moment, he only stared at the lace at her sleeve, the familiar ivory silk, memory and reality blurring at the edges. Then his grip tightened around her hand, not pulling away—holding on.

“…It suits you,” he said quietly, after a beat.

F/n let out a soft laugh, tilting her head to one side as she looked at him.

“ I scared you.”

“ You do that all the time.”

There was no bite in his words—only fondness, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly. He reached out then, brushing his fingers over the lace at her sleeve, careful, reverent.

“But…,” he added softly, meeting her eyes, “I don’t mind.”

A warm smile spread on F/n’s lips upon hearing his quiet admission.

“ Let’s rest.” She whispered, tugging on his hand gently. “ You might start imagining more things aside from your mother’s apparition.”

Bruce let out a soft, humorless chuckle, finally allowing himself to be led toward the bed. His hand stayed wrapped around hers, their fingers intertwined, grounding him more than he expected.

As they settled in, the room filled with quiet—the soft rustle of silk, the faint glow of the lamp, and the unspoken comfort of being together. He had one of his arms draped over her waist, pulling her close as if her presence alone could only ground him.

“ Next time…” He exhaled, his voice low, “...give me heads up if you plan on wearing that at night.”

F/n let out a soft giggle against his chest, her hand resting on top of chest— feeling his steady heartbeat beneath her palm.

“ No promises,” she murmured, and the warmth of her smile pressed against him.

A soft groan escaped from his lips, shutting his eyes but a faint smile tugged on his lips.

“ You sure do love to bully me, don’t you,” he murmured, voice low and teasing, though there was no bite—only fondness.

F/n pressed a little closer, her cheek against his shoulder. “Only when you make it so easy,” she whispered.

Bruce let out a quiet chuckle, tightening his hold around her waist. The night stretched on quietly around them, the world outside forgotten, leaving only silk, warmth, and the steady rhythm of two hearts finally at rest together.

~~~

It was safe to say that wearing Martha’s nightgown was highly discouraged after that… incident.

Bruce had taken to keeping a close eye on F/n the moment she slipped into the bathroom to change, his sharp gaze following every movement through the slightly ajar door. It was as if he were mentally drilling himself: It’s just my wife. Just my wife. Not my childhood trauma draped in silk and lace.

F/n, of course, noticed the ever-so-slightly stiff way he stood, the tense way his jaw flexed, and couldn’t help but stifle a giggle.

“You’re still thinking about it, aren’t you?” she called lightly, voice teasing through the door.

There was a long pause before Bruce’s muffled reply came, a mixture of irritation and fondness:

“I am not. I’m… making sure the hallway isn’t haunted.”

F/n laughed softly, shaking her head. Oh, him. Only Bruce could turn being terrified into an endearing domestic habit

On the other hand, the bat kids started to notice a figure roaming near their rooms late at night. At first, they thought they were imagining things, probably the fatigue from patrol making them imagine things.

But the figure kept appearing, moving silently through the halls, lingering near doors as if deciding which room to haunt. Soon enough, it became a routine. That prompted an emergency meeting, the kids huddled together in the library, faces set and serious as they whispered in tense urgency.

“I saw it last night,” Tim murmured, adjusting his glasses. “The manor’s… ghost.”

Stephanie shot him a sharp look, keeping her voice controlled. “See! I wasn’t imagining things!”

Damian, arms crossed, scowled. “A ghost? Nonsense. The only thing roaming these halls at night is—”

“They said the same thing about the Boogeyman, Damian,” Cassandra interrupted dryly, rolling her eyes. “But the ghost is real, apparently.”

On one side of the room, Jason and Dick exchanged looks, as if remembering a certain scenario in their childhood.

“ We did see a ghost before, right?” Dick muttered, scratching his head. “ Though it was just Alfred with a candelabra, searching for the generator after the power went off.”

Jason snorted, “ You ran to F/n screaming that there was a ghost. So much for being a reliable older brother. ”

Dick groaned, cheeks warming at the memory. “ Hey! The manor is creepy at night, especially when you grew up surrounded by empty bedrooms.”

Stephanie snorted from across the table. “Sure, Dick. Sure. But the ‘ghost’ this time isn’t Alfred. It’s… different.”

“Yeah, I can attest to that,” Tim added, pulling out his tablet and waving it for emphasis. “I checked the security feeds after I nearly passed out from seeing it. It… looks like those Victorian weeping girls.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, leaning over the tablet. “Victorian weeping girls? Seriously? Tim, you’re terrifying yourself over nothing.”

Tim tapped the screen insistently. “I’m not exaggerating! Look at the footage—floating down the hallway, long flowing… and it glides, like—like it’s not even touching the floor!”

Dick groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I told you, it’s probably F/n sneaking around in the dark again. She likes doing her… ghostly night patrols.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened. “Wait, you mean it’s not—”

Before she could finish, Damian slammed his fist on the table. “Enough speculation. We confront it tonight. I will uncover this so-called ghost myself.”

Cassandra smirked. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

~~~

That night, F/n clad in Martha’s nightgown, roamed the halls, checking each and every bat kid’s door, listening for any signs that they are fast asleep. Unbeknownst to her, all of them had spread out, on the hunt for the manor’s alleged ‘ghost’ that roams at night.

Just as she turned to walk back towards her room, the light flickered—once, twice— before the whole hallway turned dark.

“ Huh…” She whispered, blinking against the darkness. “ I guess I need to turn the generator on.”

She stepped cautiously forward, the soft silk of her nightgown brushing against the walls. Every creak of the floorboards seemed louder, echoing in the empty hallway.

A shadow moved just beyond the corner of her eye, but she chalked it up to the flickering lights.

Meanwhile, hidden in alcoves and behind statues, the bat kids pressed closer, holding their breath.

“This is it,” Damian muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. “I will confront this ghost myself.”

Tim stifled a laugh, pointing to the figure gliding down the hall. “Uh… that ghost looks… eerily familiar, doesn’t it?”

Jason snorted, whispering, “Yeah, familiar and very terrifying. Victorian weeping girl, my foot. That’s just F/n in silk.”

Since the generator was downstairs, F/n had to carefully descend down the long flight of stairs while squinting against the darkness. She didn’t notice the clutter near the stairs—Damian’s batrang or training stick that he forgot to put away.

Her foot caught, a surprised yelp escaped from her lips as she tumbled down the flight of stairs, the soft silk of her nightgown flowing around her like a comically dramatic cape.

From the shadows above, the bat kids froze.

Dick, who happened to be at the bottom of the stairs, reaching out to turn on the generator, paused mid-motion as he saw a blur of a figure tumbling down the stairs.

He felt his soul leave his body as a scream ripped from his throat, echoing off the walls, while his heart nearly jumped out of his chest.

The figure—a tangled swirl of silk and lace—slowly pushed itself up, groaning softly. F/n blinked against the darkness, hair tousled, nightgown rumpled, a sheepish smile tugging at her lips.

“Uh… hi?” she said, voice tentative, as if this were entirely normal.

From above, the kids’ reactions were instantaneous.

Tim’s glasses slid down his nose. “That… is definitely not a ghost.”

Jason was practically doubled over, whispering between laughter, “Human cannonball! Victorian weeping girl? More like falling chandelier!”

Stephanie covered her mouth to stifle a giggle, while Damian’s scowl deepened. “Are you insane?!”

F/n groaned, brushing herself off and trying to smooth the silk. “I… guess I should’ve checked for obstacles.”

At the top of the stairs, Bruce appeared, arms crossed, trying—and failing—to maintain a stern expression. “Explain yourself,” he said, voice calm but eyes betraying the faintest amusement.

F/n slowly got to her feet, silk rumpled, lace slightly askew, and gave Bruce a mock bow. “Do I really need to explain myself?” she asked, her voice sweetly teasing.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling deeply. “You were roaming the halls at night… in my mother’s… nightgown,” he said, voice calm but his usual composure cracking just slightly.

Tim’s jaw dropped. “Wait… he got scared too?!”

Jason snorted, pointing at Bruce. “Oh, this just got so much better. The Dark Knight, quivering over a… nightgown.”

Stephanie smirked, leaning forward. “I can’t believe it. Bruce Wayne—terrorized by F/n in silk and lace. Truly terrifying.”

Damian’s scowl deepened, though there was a flicker of amusement. “How is this… even possible?”

Dick, still recovering from his own heart-attack moment at the bottom of the stairs, couldn’t resist chiming in. “And he’s the one who trained us to handle Gotham’s worst nightmares?!”

Cassandra burst into quiet laughter. “I think we’ve officially discovered Bruce Wayne’s ultimate weakness.”

Bruce shot a glare at the kids, but it was weak—too weak. “It wasn’t the… nightgown,” he said, voice tight. “It was… the… timing. Darkness. Silence. Misleading shadows.”

Jason waved a hand dismissively. “Uh-huh. Sure. Totally. It had nothing to do with F/n looking like a Victorian ghost.”

F/n crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk tugging at her lips. “See? I’m good for the family. I keep everyone alert at night.”

Tim shook his head, laughing softly. “Yeah, alert and slightly traumatized.”

Bruce groaned, leaning against the banister, utterly defeated as the bat kids continued their teasing, giggling and making exaggerated ghost noises behind him. Even Damian, secretly trying not to laugh, muttered, “Next time… you get your own night patrol.”

F/n smiled, slipping her hand into Bruce’s. “Don’t worry, I won’t haunt you every night… maybe just once in a while.”

And with that, the manor echoed with laughter, teasing, and the faint rustle of silk as F/n reclaimed her title as the most unexpectedly terrifying ghost the Wayne household had ever known.

[peaches-nix]

mama bat! or mama bruce?

here is quick sketch, I always loved when they show bruce being soft with children UGH! my weakness!!

[chiplin]

Come back with baby superbat please 🥺

my beautiful, sweet anon! i will have some more to feed us when i get my shit together. which should be soon! don’t lose hope on me (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

in the meantime, here’s one i wrote rn, for context theyre 10/11 so it might not exactly be baby superbat but it’s close enough, right???? It’s time we admit 10 yr olds are still babies with big emotions who deserve nap time and reassurance, gahhh🧑‍🍼

•┈┈┈••✦ ♡ ✦••┈┈┈•

If Clark is being honest, there’s not much that makes him upset. Besides social injustice, people who litter, anyone who defends littering, entitled folks who think basic decency is optional, systems that fail people in ways that are both predictable and preventable, people dying at the hands of those in power when it absolutely did not have to happen, casual cruelty, ignorance, willful misinformation, billionaires, people who unnecessarily honk their horns, loud chewing, uneven volume levels between TV shows and commercials and slow internet. Other than that, Clark handles things just fine.

Though…today might be the exception.

Middle school ain’t all that hard-the work comes pretty easily to him. Not to toot his own horn, but he’ll admit he’s pretty smart for his age. And speaking of “too,” he’s also, unfortunately, a little too strong. Which might explain why he ends up feeling so drained and angry sometimes. Especially today. People tend to underestimate how much weight even kids carry, assuming responsibility doesn’t really land on you until you’re older. But for Clark, he carries something far heavier, something unnatural, long before he ever had the words to fully grasp it.

He does his best to mask it, and he’s good at it too, but sometimes it’s just far too much for him to hold alone. Holding back this kind of strength is one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and for some reason, it comes with guilt. Guilt for the stress it puts on his parents. Guilt for carrying abilities no one else around him seems to have. Guilt for still wanting help, even though he believes he shouldn’t need it at all.

It’s constant. Never ending.

And in learning how to control this part of himself, he’s ended up alone. He dimmed himself so no one would ever feel dominated or threatened. But now it feels like no one sees him at all anymore.

Until, somehow, it didn’t stay that way forever. By some grace or fate of the universe, it sent him his own sun, made flesh, to burn quietly beside him and fuel him.

Even just thinking of him eased the ache in his chest. If he weren’t stuck at his desk, trying to force his mind onto homework instead of the loneliness he felt himself drowning in, he would’ve gone over just to melt into his arms.

“Boo.”

Clark jumped so hard a burst of laughter immediately spilled out from behind him-sweet and smooth, like music cutting clean through silence. Pure sound, pure relief, straight to his ears.

“Bruce! Jeez, how the heck did you get in here?” Clark asked, clearly surprised. Not even with superhearing has he managed to catch Bruce sneaking up on him.

“Man, I don’t know,” Bruce replied casually. “There’s this huge window wide open 24/7. Maybe that’s how?” He stepped further in, leaning lightly against the edge of Clarks desk. Bruce didn’t waste time before locking those powder blue eyes straight onto Clark’s sapphire ones.

“What’s wrong, sunshine? You seem lost in thought,” Bruce asked gently, his gaze flicking briefly to the glowing computer screen. “It’s definitely not because of the color by number sheet they gave us, is it?”

Clark couldn’t help but smile. His observant wife, always so sharp, always so direct.

But the smile didn’t last long.

The shift was subtle, but it was enough for Bruce to notice. He stepped closer, the space between them shrinking until there was barely any left at all. Gently, he lifted a hand and cupped Clark’s face, the other sliding into his hair, brushing it back with slow, careful fingers like he had all the time in the world.

“You look tired,” Bruce said softly.

Clark opened his mouth almost immediately. “I’m not.” The words coming out automatically. Bruce didn’t move away, if anything, his touch only softened.

“You are,” he said simply, not accusing but merely acknowledging.

Clark hesitated. His gaze flickered away for half a second before forcing itself back. “I guess I am,” Clark whispered.

“Yeah, me too,” Bruce whispered back.

Those three words were enough to loosen something in Clark’s shoulders, he didn’t have to pretend anymore. His head slowly lolled forward until it rested against Bruce’s chest, his hands tugging him impossibly closer.

Bruce wrapped his arms around his head, caging him in, before gently resting his chin on top of Clark’s head. He let himself breathe him in for a moment. Clark’s scent was grounding-clean, earthy, faintly sweet like he’d showered before settling down to do his homework. It made something in Bruce’s own tension ease, his shoulders finally dropping as well.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bruce asked gently, his voice low and careful.

“No, not really. Sorry,” Clark breathed out. A small part of him wanted to, but the thought of finding the words, of having to shape them into something coherent felt like too much. Farm work sounded easier right now. Guilt followed close behind the refusal, but Bruce didn’t push. Instead, he let out a soft chuckle and then signed, “It’s okay, my love. Me neither.”

So simple. And yet the words were a flood of relief, enough to make Clark’s eyes sting slightly at how seen, how unpressured it felt.

“You know what we both could use right now?” Bruce uttered softly.

“Mmh?”

“Some good old cuddles.”

Clark perked up slightly, his head lifting from where it had been resting against Bruce.

Bruce stepped back just enough to kick off his shoes without ceremony, already turning toward the bed.

Bruce threw himself onto it, bouncing a little before settling himself comfortably. He stretched out and opened his arms in an easy, inviting gesture.

“Come here, handsome,” his tone was warm, almost teasing.

Clark moved quickly, climbing onto the bed and settling himself over Bruce’s smaller frame, the contrast between them obvious. Bruce’s arms wrapped around him immediately, giving him a tight squeeze that probably would have been too hard for anyone else.

Clark shifted until his head tucked into the crook of Bruce’s neck, his weight fully surrendered. Bruce adjusted instinctively, one arm securing around his back while the other settled at Clark’s nape, holding him like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Am I too heavy?” Clark couldn’t help but ask.

He was always bigger than people their age and always aware of it too. How could he not? It followed him everywhere, in the way people looked at him and in the way he towered over his classmates. He shifted, starting to roll off Bruce-who immediately made a sound of protest.

“Nooo! Go back to how you were,” he grumbled. “You’re like my own weighted blanket.”

Clark hesitated, still pulling away slightly, turning onto his side. “I don’t want to hurt you. Can you even breathe?”

“Don’t start,” Bruce said, firmer this time, though still soft around the edges. “You know I wouldn’t let you if were too heavy for me,” He tried to adjust Clark closer again like before, like Clark’s weight wasn’t even a question worth worrying about. With Bruce, their size difference felt natural. It was nothing to over analyze over.

And Clark, ever willing to melt into that certainty, settled back down against him. His nose found the steady pulse at Bruce’s neck, that grounding rhythm he always gravitated towards. There, he breathed in slowly, letting out a soft hum as the tension in his body began to loosen again.

Gosh, he loves this.

Loved how careful Bruce was with him, how he saw how different Clark was in certain ways and still choose to be gentle with him. He had always been the sun-too bright and too much, but then came his moon, so steady and patient, reflecting him back into something worth orbiting. Lots of things didn’t make sense in Clark’s life, but it didn’t have to. In Bruce’s arms, he wasn’t something too powerful, too different to fit anywhere right.

He was just Clark. Held and accepted.

The guilt and self deprecating thoughts that usually lingered at the edges of his mind didn’t disappear so much as dissolve, as if they couldn’t survive in the warmth of Bruce holding him this way. Every breath Clark took in his arms felt easier and lighter. In Bruce’s arms, he wasn’t too much of anything.

He was enough.

Bruce gently lifted the hem of Clark’s shirt just enough for his hand to slip beneath it. He began to scratch softly, exactly the way he knew Clark liked. It sent a ripple of goosebumps across Clark’s skin. His other hand still settled at Clark’s nape began to gently massage through his hair.

And Clark just melted, his body sinking deeper into Bruce without resistance. Comfort filled him so completely it almost felt unreal.

His thoughts slowed until even worry felt far away and unimportant. His eyes began to grow droopy as warmth settled into every part of him.

After some time, Bruce he spoke against the silence, “Ironic, isn’t it?” he murmured, “We build these imaginary walls to protect others, only to end up lost and trapped behind them instead…cruel, huh,”

Clark didn’t move or answer. Then it hit him, his breath caught, and before he could stop it, tears welled in his eyes. Lost and trapped. Two words that described just how he felt.

“I feel different…and alone too.” Bruce added.

The words broke something open, his tears flowing out. He instinctively squeezed Bruce harder, but this time there was so hesitation. Bruce trusted him, and for Clark, that was enough to stop fighting himself. The knot in his chest unraveled slowly as he cried into him. It wasn’t overwhelming but rather freeing. Everything he’d been holding in had finally found somewhere safe to go. He cried until it eased, until there was nothing left pressing so hard inside him, just an emptiness that didn’t hurt and ache the way it had moments before.

Bruce pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The tension drained the rest of the way out of him, his body going heavy with exhaustion and relief.

For how much it hurt, he loved sharing the pain of solitude with him. At least they could share the weight of it. They fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other, and woke hours later without either of them having moved an inch.

[starlite-png]

Bruce is a quiet, but very affectionate drunk.

Stranger at a gala thst he's actually drinking at?

They're receiving a warm smile and the best listener they could ask for.

Younger hero saving Brucie who he doesn't know personally but has been monitoring from a far?

They're getting a bunch of really specific encouragements, a little bit of mother henning, and maybe an actual pat on the head.

The founding Justice League members drinking alien booze together and Bruce ends up wayyyy drunker than the rest?

He just stares at them all with blantant fondness in his eyes as he softly says that they're his dearest friends and he loves them with all his heart. (They definitely don't tear up a little) (okay they all tear up a lot).

And the batfamily?

Oh boy, this is the one time he won't shut up. Saying how proud he is of them, how much he loves them, how he doesn't deserve then, how he never thought he'd get to have a full family again, and all his kids (and alfred, of course) are getting very long hugs, especially Jason, who awkwardly leans down into his father's arms and if anyone mentions that Jason started crying like the old man was, he'll beat their heads in.

Yeah, drunk bruce being affectionate just feels right.

[b0iledp3anuts]

Snuggle Fest

Tags: Fluff || No Smut| Gender Neutral reader| Hurt/Comfort | Cuddling | Soft Bruce Wayne | Polyamory | Superbat

Summary: You’ve had a shit day. Thankfully you have two amazing partners who care about you! Plus, they just so happens to be Superman and Batman!

Extra: I’m such a fat fucking Chud :/

Another shit day.

Seemed like you had more shit days than good this week. Actually, make it all month. First it was your dental care appointments that started to stress you out.

And then you forgot to roll up your window, so when it rained in the morning, you were greeted with at least at few hundred dollars in water damage.

Great.

Oh! And to make the whole thing better?

You forgot to buy ice cream to help with the pain of being financially shit. And sure, maybe in the long run you not having the Ice Cream was more ‘financially responsible’ but you didn’t wanna hear that.

You wanted to wallow on the couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, watch a movie and maybe even get a few hours of sleep in.

But no. You just had to have another shit day.

Wonderful.

You’re lying on your couch now. Balled up within yourself. Legs to your chest, arms wrapped around knees, still in your work clothes. You didn’t even bother to get undressed. That’s how annoyed you were.

But it was whatever. You technically still were watching TV. But not in the way you wanted. No you were watching the News.

You watch his handsome face smiling as he talked to the reporter.

Clark.

And right beside him was Bruce.

They were in their super outfits, reporting some intergalactic event or whatever. Something was always going down in Metropolis either way. And it barely destroyed downtown so It really didn’t even matter.

They were answering questions, replying to comments, reviewing what happened with the reporter. It was always a joy to see them like this. When work was a fun little exercise for Clark and a essentially a math puzzle for Bruce.

You’re dozing off before you know it. Sleep wacking you in the back of the head before you truly knew it. And when you wake up you smell the scent of something garlicky and heady.

You smile.

It’s them.

Stretching, you get up from the couch to greet the both of them. Bruce is making small comments to Clark who’s floating a few inches above the ground while stirring a pot of something.

Bruce greets you with a smile.

“Hey,(Insert preferred pet-name)”

He greets, a warm cup of coffee in his hands. You smile and bend down to hug him, enjoying the feeling of his slight subble on your cheek.

Clark puts down the pot and greets you the same way. He’s almost giggling, that’s how happy is.

“You had a nice nap, (Y/N)?” He asks, holding your face in his. Those big eyes crinkling in the light.

“Yeah. Needed it. Had a rough week you reply.”

To that, you watch a sigh exhale from both of them.

“Haven’t been doing to good ourselves.” Bruce explains, now up and pouring some dumplings into a bowl. Mhmmm…Asian food sounds delicious right now.

“I thought the mission was easy today?” You asked, gladly taking the bowl from him and sitting down at the table. You smile and watch as they exchange a quick kiss with each other, Bruce handing Clark a bowl.

He kisses your cheek as he sits next to you. Then Bruce on the other side of the table.

“It wasn’t hard. Didn’t mean it wasn’t draining though.” He explained.

“Or annoying.” Clark added in. You grimaced.

“Geez. Sorry guys. That sucks.” You reply.

“That’s the job.” They both say in tandem. You reach out a rub at both of their hands.

You all eat dinner and end up struggling in bed with each other after all earnings yourselves a well deserved shower. You squeezed between them both.

Bruce a steady wall of muscle on your back, Clark’s soft pecs a nice pillow for your cheek, and their two arms wrapped around your like a weighted blanket.

It was the perfect cuddle fest.

And as you all dozed off for the night, you couldn’t help but feel better.

THE END.

Little something short and sweet for funnsies.

As always, Comments, Reposts, Suggestions, Prompts and Constructive Feedback are welcomed!

— Love, P3anuts 🍎🐛