Batman fan blog

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21 - he/it - autistic w/ DID

Mostly text posts about Batman and/or Batfamily, such as silly thoughts, headcannons and incorrect quotes. If you have requests, suggestions or questions, feel free to send us an ask :)

Bruce “The Batman” Wayne may love his girls, he may appreciate and adore his daughters. But that man is a BoyDad.

Because when Dick Grayson came into the manor, Alfred had to replace countless priceless chandeliers. That boy was swinging off of banisters, breaking mirrors with stray juggling tricks gone awry, and at one point had to be begged to stay away from any high places around sentimental portraits of Thomas and Martha. And while Bruce could’ve just asked him to stay on the ground, or later expressed he’d prefer the acrobatics to stay with Robin, he just smiled and requested Alfred to assist with the mess. He’d scoop the boy up, and later give him a cookie so he isn’t so scared after the loud noise.

When Jason Todd was taking the wheels off the Batmobile, Bruce took less than three seconds to decide he had a brother for Dick. Bruce would pry, asking question after question about what Jason would eat, what his preferences were. He’d usually just shrug. Alfred would try his best to appease the child, but when push came to shove, Bruce was the one offering pizza or brining home chips.

And don’t get him started on how often he breaks up fights, because it turns out Dick and Jason have different ideas of how much sharing is appropriate. Even after buying duplicate sets of everything, he’d be breaking up prank wars over Dick reading Jason’s book. Or Jason using Dicks hair gel.

When Tim Drake came along, he had his patience tested before, but never like this. He was the type of kid to ask why to everything, break every rule once and set his own example. He’d hoped Dick would rub off as a good influence, but there wasn’t anything that could convince him Tim slept or ate right even when aided in doing so. But even through every argument with teachers at school, Bruce would take Tim’s side in the office. It didn’t matter what he did, they could deal with it at home, that was his boy.

When Steph first became Robin, she was a bit terrified about her suit. She worried it wouldn’t fit right, or that she’d need to explain her need of a bra to Bruce. Or worse, the function of a bra. He had multiple variations (around her size, as far as he could guess) of sports bras made with industrial strength fabric. And they weren’t just compressing and functional, they were comfortable.

“I wasn’t 100% sure about the band size you’d need, but these should last a while. And they are so breathable.” Steph didn’t want to question why he knew that, she just said thank you and moved on.

Cass didn’t get a consistent period until moving in, so even while knowing what it was, it was lot for her. The second Bruce heard about her struggling from Steph, he showed her the closet in the manor with various period products. Not just multiple types of tampons, pads and liners, but cups and underwear and wet wipes. All the Midol and heating pads you could dream of.

“Some people prefer pads, but I preferred tampons because they’re more discreet. I have just as many options for both. There’s organic, allergenic friendly, pads for heavy flow, I think there’s some Diva Cups in the back, too. If you ever need pain relief, I’d still prefer you to ask Alfred, but there are plenty of options. Whatever you need, whenever you need it, it’s here. Or come to me, I’ll get you more. There’s no reason to have any shame around this.” Cass didn’t quite catch the part where he mentioned his menstrual product preferences, she just grabbed a Diva Cup, wet wipes and some underwear. Then she promptly skittered away, likely embarrassed, Bruce assumed.

One time Babs was complaining about women’s pockets in clothes. “Preaching to the choir, so glad I switched to men’s.” And instead of explaining himself, he gave Barabra tips on finding men’s pants that fit an AFAB body better.

At one point, Tim couldn’t stop complaining about how unfair it was that Cass got to come home early from patrol and eat chocolate damn near monthly. Or why Steph got to lock everyone out of her room around a similar time. Something about him being tired, too, and Bruce never brought him Snickers and or let him shut the entire family out.

Which is worse for Bruce. And means that even Jason being alive again can’t fill the whole he’s dug himself. Of “my boy, my baby, my son, and the child I was meant to protect” is dead and it’s because of my business. His journey for justice, his coping mechanism.

Jason being back and breaking the Bat-code at that, had to have destroyed him. His son is breathing again and doesn’t have any fight left besides to fight against what Bruce tried to avoid Jason ever needing; vengeance. Jason wants the world, for Gotham for the joker and for Bruce, to see what being disregarded does. He wants to make a name for himself that’s the opposite of what got him killed.

Jason : I do? I mean, that’s right bitch 😎