#*rr

[arrowheadedbitch]

Tim: I didn't get raped...if that makes it any better

Dick: It does NOT

Tim: Ah yes, that time Ra's send his sister to rape me

Damian: My grandfather did what?

Cass: Oh yes, I remember that.

Damian: WHAT?

[arrowheadedbitch]

Kon: Hey, if you were a serial killer, you'd tell me, right?

Tim, not even looking up: Definitely

Kon: Okay, good. ...Let me know if you ever...go down that route

Tim: What, kill someone?

Kon: Yeah.

Tim: Alright, if I kill someone I promise you'll be the first to know

Kon: I don't like the way you said that...

Tim: What?

Kom: You're not allowed to kill me! I forbid you from killing me!

Tim: Okay, okay! I'm not gonna kill you, Jesus

Kon: ...Good.

[celebrincensured]

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

"percy manipulated bob" "percy manipulated charon" i think the thing we all need to focus on more is the fact that he accidentally manipulated the whole of the pjo fandom into seeing him as dumb and stupid when he was just insecure as hell

[arrowheadedbitch]

Omg I love love love this. I really really hope all of the league stuff still happened though, the idea of all of that still happening even though he was never Robin? MWAH

In fact, someone remind me to come back and add a scene of that to this later, please and thank you. It's about time I wrote Tim again anyways.

go away

After Bruce Wayne dies, it only takes Tim about three weeks to show up on Dick Grayson’s doorstep with a 3-ring binder full of evidence. He runs a finger along the top metal ring of the binder over and over as he waits for a response to the doorbell. All at once he feels thirteen years old again, clutching months of painstakingly collected notes written up neatly and sorted into sections. Dick never read any of it, yet Tim did it all again. Had his photos developed for ease of viewing access, included sources for all of his claims, stuck to his main points for clarity’s sake but has pages and pages of extra information in the back of the binder for when–if–Dick decides to give his idea a thorough look. 

But Tim is seventeen years old now, old enough to know where he went wrong the first time. Yesterday he spent hours coming up with argument after argument, approach after approach, to get through to Dick. Mr. Grayson, I’m so sorry for your loss. He’s probably tired of hearing that. Mr. Grayson, I have something I think you’ll want to see. Too quick to the point. If he doesn’t recognize Tim, maybe he’ll try Mr. Grayson, I know about your night life and I want to help. If he does, then maybe Mr. Grayson, I want to say I’m sorry about last time, but this isn’t like last time, I swear–

The door opens. Tim knows that it’s Dick by the smell. Sweat, unwashed clothes, and misery. How like last time. Dick looks like the epitome of grief, which is to say, not like himself. Dick Grayson is a creature of happiness by nature, of high-flying freedom, of beloved family and friends, a picture-perfect cover boy, always adored, always with a beautiful redhead, Batgirl or Starfire or Arsenal, yes Tim knows his type, always kind, always charming, always happy to be there. But Tim only ever seems to know him in these liminal states of horrible tragedy. 

Worst of all, Tim can’t quite tell if Dick recognizes him. 

“Mr. Grayson,” he begins, heart pounding so loudly he cannot hear himself speak, “I don’t think Mr. Wayne is dead.”

For a moment longer than Tim’s entire lifespan, Dick just stares at him. Blue eyes hazy and unfocused. One hand on the doorframe, one hand dragging through the stubble growing on his half-shaved jaw. He’s wearing an AC/DC shirt. Given Dick’s fashion tastes (bright colors) and Bruce Wayne’s music tastes, neither of which Tim should know, he is 98% certain that the AC/DC shirt used to belong to Bruce Wayne. 

When Dick finally speaks, his voice sounds like the death of all joy. 

“How many family members do I have to lose before you let me grieve in peace?”

Tim’s pounding heartbeat becomes a deafening white noise as Dick’s question pangs around his chest. His eyes sting so fiercly that Tim knows it is as visible as Dick’s misery. Nevertheless, he persists, if only for Bruce Wayne. No one else will save him if not for Tim. So even though his hero thinks Tim is a creepy little stalker with the unbelievable audacity to swagger into Dick’s life and tell him how to fix it, well. He’s not wrong, is he? What does it matter if Tim once upon a time dreamed of more? Saving Bruce Wayne is far more important than Tim’s nonexistent chances of becoming friends with Nightwing. 

“Jason came back.” Tim’s chin, lifted stubbornly, trembles. 

Dick’s face clouds over with a rage so terrible that Tim sincerely believes he’s about to get punched by Nightwing. Which wouldn’t be so bad. Tim deserves it, doesn’t he? Intruding on a stranger’s grief like this is probably a punchable offense. He’ll bear it all if only Dick listens, but it looks like he managed to blow it in the span of two sentences. 

In the end, though Dick’s hands curl into fists and his shoulders shake like traintracks, he turns his head at the last second and rests his forehead on the doorframe. Tears streak down his perfect jawline. Watching Dick Grayson cry is like watching Atlantis sink. It’s like watching the Mona Lisa go up in flames. Tim knows stuff like this is why Dick treats him like a celebrity-obsessed stalker living in a weird fantasy world where he’s a part of the Wayne family. He knows it’s why Dick hates him. Tim still can’t help that it’s captivating to watch.

“Go away,” Dick begs.

Tim has never felt more like the scum of the earth, yet still he’d persist if he thought there was a chance of getting Nightwing to listen to him. But there isn’t. So Tim, as lonely, rejected, unworthy and fucking correct as he is, sees himself out of the apartment building.

Two weeks later, he catches a flight to Lahore.

[welcome2h]

When he falls asleep on your shoulder 🥹✨

[lesansnom]

Fancomic Red Robin ( réinterprétation d'un passage de l'issue #12 )

English version :

Merci Google traduction d'exister x)

J'ai relu récemment Red Robin et comme on as jamais eu de traduction française la frustration m'a poussé à refaire ce passage.

Je remercie donc, et enmerde en même temps Urban Comics de ne pas avoir traduit RR car cela m'a permis de créer :)

Je vous ai dit que j'aimais bien le Red Robin de Juni Ba ?

Je préfère le dire avant qu'il y est méprise

[trafo2]

[meowrizas-blog]

[svgarmilk]

new phone case ♡♡♡

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[arrowheadedbitch]

Tim: I'd die for you.

Kon: You dove in front of a moving car earlier to save two sips of an energy drink. I had to save you.

Tim: In my defense, I needed the caffeine.

[teamleo1029]

Percy: Hey Ann, how was your d- Annabeth soaking wet with her clothes muddy and dirt in her hair: I'm having what some would call a 'bad day'

[helpallthenamesaretaken]

i love how different percabeth is from different male lead narrated american middle school romances from the romantic point of view. usually, the male lead has a crush on the cold and kind of mean female protagonist cause she's pretty and not like the other girls.....she's pretty and not like the other girls....thats it oops. but annabeth and percy. annabeth fell first. even though she's cold and sassy too, she believed in percy. she saw the good in him and loved him for it. then percy fell. he didnt have to worry about whether annabeth would like a loser like him. yeah, he doubted why annabeth liked him once in a while, but it was a never a question of 'does she?' its healthy. and thats what makes rick riordan one of the best middle school authors ever thank you bye

[punchesyou]

Some nemma sillies