#batman mentioned!!

[oven-thermometer]

Don’t Ask.

Summary: Damian needs a place to spend the night, somewhere he won’t be riddled with questions – somewhere he’d feel safe. Jason’s place just seems to materialise. 

(NOT A SHIP)

a/n: my bff and I made a sims world for dc and cod characters. that’s how this started. enjoy. This is a hurt/comfort if you were wondering. 

Warnings: mentions of abuse, violence, past trauma, swearing, the author has never written for dc before, spelling mistakes problably.

w/c: 4.7k

It was raining when Jason pushed the doors open. He had been sitting in that stuffy room in a sharing circle for what felt like hours. He hadn’t spoken much in today’s session, not that he minded. He preferred the days were he could sit back and silently make his own judgements about the other people sitting in shitty plastic chairs, pouring their hearts out for six strangers and one mildly qualified doctor.

A soft hand touched his arm as he stared listlessly at the wet parking lot. Turning his head, he found the comforting smile of Meemaw Vicky staring at him. The elderly woman had insisted he call her Vicky, it made her feel young apparently – he added the ‘Meemaw’ part himself to tease her.

“You didn’t talk in there today.” She remarked, letting her hand fall from his arm in preference of standing next to him.

“Didn’t feel like any of the topics applied to me much.” He lied.

She just hummed in reply, letting him stew in the fact that she knew exactly what he actually wanted to say. ‘Today just felt like one of those days where if I talk too much I’ll drop dead.’ 

She knew because she had those days too, he knew that as well. She was in the same therapy group as him, and he’d heard some of her stories. Her husband being murdered in front of her from a home invasion wasn’t what he was expecting to come out of what seemed to be the kindest old lady, although he didn’t think anyone was prepared to hear his truth either. He left out the raised by batman and dying part, but being kidnapped by the Joker was all too well known by some of the people in this godforsaken community center. 

Breaking out of his trance, Jason inhaled sharply, “You still coming over tomorrow?”

“Yes, and I’ll be bringing a surprise, I think you’ll like it.” She didn’t look at him as she spoke, just kept watching the soft rain pattering onto the ground. 

“I’m sure I will, Meemaw.”

Jason helped her to the bus stop, leaving with a kiss on his cheek and a dish of leftover mac and cheese he wasn’t sure where she was keeping. 

Something was wrong. When he had arrived home, the rain still making itself known, something had been off. None of his lights were on, so he couldn’t see in – but the welcome mat Barbra had gotten him was scuffed with mud he knew he hadn’t tracked in last night after his patrol. Checking the front door confirmed it was still locked. 

Opening the door slowly, he surveyed the room. His bottom floor was completely open plan, save for a cupboard acting as a divider between the kitchen and the living room. Nothing was amiss from what he could see, except for his missing dog. She always woke up before he actually got in, waiting to greet him at the door. But she was missing and he couldn’t even hear her soft snores. 

Then he heard it. A soft mumble. Something he couldn’t make out. But he had heard it. It had come from his living room area. When he made his way over, he couldn’t do anything except let out a deep, annoyed sigh. 

“I thought dogs were meant to deter unwanted guests.”

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne sat on Jason’s beaten up couch with a neutral expression as he ran his hand behind Dog’s ear. She looked up at Jason, her tongue flopping out. Damian seemed to either be in a deep comatose state, or he was completely ignoring Jason’s presence. 

“What? No snarky comment or backhanded compliment?” Jason asked as he moved to turn the lights on. When he turned back to the teenager, the bruises littering his neck catches his attention immediately. From what he could see they continued all the way round and disappeared under his shirt too. He would’ve been alarmed if it weren’t for the fact that Damian was a crime-fighting vigilante, had a kill count in the triple digits and oh yeah, was the son of Batman. So Jason just shook his head and walked to the kitchen. 

“So you gonna tell me why you’re here?” Jason called out, busying himself with shoving some of the mac and cheese in the microwave.

Dog had finally let up on her pure betrayal. She trotted over to Jason, purely unaware as she scratched at her food bowl. 

With no response coming from the couch’s occupant, Jason just rolled his eyes and bent down to pet Dog and fill her food bowl. Her slightly crossed eyes closed as she licked at his face before she started on her dinner. She was a certified therapy dog, another gift from that group therapy. She worked, though. She gave him something to get out of bed for. Whatever happened, he knew he had to get home and feed Dog. And she calmed him down during the occasional panic attack, so he didn’t mind the downside of walks and feeding too much. 

Later, after Jason and Damian had sat at the kitchen island in silence and each had eaten their own dinner, Damian got up without a word and began washing the few dishes left in the sink. Jason knew not to argue with him when he started doing something. He settled for watching him as he washed and rinsed, offering the occasional help when he noticed the boy would stop for a few seconds as he didn’t know where something was. At this point Jason was getting slightly concerned. Damian was never this quiet. He would show up without explanation sometimes, but he’d always offer some insult or sassy statement throughout the visit. This wasn’t normal. 

Checking his phone, no out of the ordinary messages peaked his interest, no one asking where Damian was or who had him. Then, the time caught his eye. If Damian went to sleep any later, he’d be a disaster to deal with in the morning and there weren’t enough therapy dogs in the world for that patience test. 

“C’mon, you can sleep in my bed. I’ll take the couch.” 

Just before Jason left his bedroom to let Damian get some sleep, he stopped. Damian was standing next to his bed, awkwardly wringing his hands together and shifting his weight from one leg to the other. 

His voice was small when he spoke, and it sounded too broken for it’s own good, “I presume Alfred has been told of my whereabouts.”

“Nope.” His reply was quick and matter-of-fact. 

“He would want to know where I am – and so would… so would father.” The last part was softer, almost like he didn’t want to say it in the first place. 

“Between you and me, I can tell when someone doesn’t wanna be found just yet.” 

The door made a soft click as Jason closed it behind him. Dog was all too happy when she got to smother him completely as he lay down on the couch.

The next morning, as the last part of yesterday’s rain still prattled on stubbornly against his windows, Jason stood in the kitchen with his favourite mug. His neighbour had gotten it for him, a house-warming gift. He hated the stupid camo decals but it was the first genuine gift he had gotten in years. So he kept it. Not hearing the sound of careful footsteps coming down the stairs, Jason blinked his thoughts away when Damian’s unkempt set of dark curls entered his peripheral vision. 

“Rough night?” Jason joked.

“What? I stayed in the room if that’s what-“

“It’s an expression dumbass, your hair looks like it’s going in five different directions.”

“…Oh.” That small glimpse of innocence and the look of a tiny epiphany in Damian made Jason smile, but it was wiped away quickly when Damian started listing off his breakfast needs like he was at a restaurant.

“-and with that you’ll pour the cream over. Oh and don’t forget the eggs. Not too crispy and not too soft.”

“You order Alfred around like that in the mornings?” Jason turned to his cabinets, pulling out a box of cereal that was probably two months too old. 

“I usually accept my breakfast in bed, and he already knows how I like everything.” He sat on one of the high-chairs, looking impossibly childish as his legs hung off too far from the ground.

“Oh, sorry your highness, but you’ll have to deal with cereal today.” They did this dance everytime he came over to visit.

As Damian ate, Jason started with washing the mug and spoon in his sink. This felt better. The younger boy was finally offering up full sentences one after the other and wouldn’t immediately look away when he tried to meet his eyes – even though he could tell he was still struggling.

But those bruises caught his eye again. Bile started to rise in his throat.

“Your neck-“

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He stopped eating for a moment before returning with more fervor. 

“So they aren’t ones from fighting?”

“Would that make them better? Acceptable?” Damian looked straight at his brother, piercing through him with his accusing stare. A challenge. 

“No, but I just wanna know if you’re safe, idiot.”

His gaze fell. He pushed his almost finished bowl of probably unsafe cereal away and stood.

“I want to leave now. The walk to my school from your house is longer than from the manor.”

After a long moment of Jason scrutinizing his every move, he sighed. “You can leave, but you’re not going to school today.”

His mouth snarled and his brow raised as he registered his words, “Excuse me?”

“If you think my questions about those marks are too personal, you’ll hate what the teachers are gonna ask.” He shrugged. 

He pondered for a moment before replying, “Maybe missing school is for the best, just today though.”

Jason put the mug and spoon onto the drying rack, wiping his hands on a dishcloth while he made his way to the front door. 

“Where are you going?”

“Oh, I thought you wanted to leave? Might as well take dog with us, she needs a walk anyways.” He held out a leash, offering it to Damian as Dog made her presence known with excited barks.

The skeptical look on Damian’s face as he walked over could have been framed. He questioned the idea of ‘us’ out-loud as he clipped the leash onto Dog’s collar.

Jason didn’t bother replying, opting to walk out the door, expecting the others to follow. The morning was still exceptionally dreary. The rain was even more misty than yesterday, but still annoying enough to warrant Jason bringing his umbrella from inside. 

The trio walked down the street without a word, with Dog being none the wiser as she sniffed at every passer-by. Jason waved to his neighbour as they passed his house, although the man just gave a blank expression and a nod in reply.

“What is wrong with him?” Damian asked as the blonde man quickly disappeared back into his house. 

“I know him from therapy, he’s ex-military or some shit. Got traumatized enough to be discharged early I guess.” He decided to leave out the part where his husband died in his arms from a gunshot to the head.

After a short while, both of them had fallen silent. Neither felt the need to fill the space between them with pointless chit-chat. That was until Damian piped up, “Your… therapy, does it actually work?”

“Most the time. Thinking of finally talking to someone?” Jason taunted him with a raised brow and smirk, wanting to get him back for this morning. 

“Definitely not. I can’t imagine anything worse than some stranger who only cares about their paycheck asking me about my life.”

“You know, it’s not always like that. Some therapists actually care. Sure, a lot of them only want the session over with so they can diagnose you and ask for the bill,” Jason sat on a park bench, expecting for the other to follow his lead, “but there are therapists that genuinely want to help people. And, you don’t have to be alone when you do it, by the way.”

Instead of replying immediately, Damian bent down to unclip Dog’s leash. She set off instantly in search of a nearby flock of pigeons with her tail pointed high and her nose to the ground. Damian chose to stay standing, shifting his weight from one leg to the other. It made Jason smile to himself.

“I don’t think the being alone is the issue to me.” He said it quietly, his gaze darting from one person to the next as they went about their business in the park. Even though most Gothamites were used to the near-constant downpour many still chose to stay indoors when the weather got like this. Autumn was Damian’s favourite season just for this – he could go just about anywhere and not be bothered by huge crowds or people willing to linger too long.  

“It helps, when you’re in a group. It hurts like hell and it gets embarrassing when you start crying in front of like, eight civilians and a doctor who just smiles the whole time-“

“That sounds awful.”

“But,” he says forcefully, immediately regretting it when Damian recoiled ever so slightly, “forcing yourself to be vulnerable around strangers actually gets you used to being human again. And when you realize those strangers are actually going through the same thing as you, they become way less scary.”

Gently, Jason placed a hand on Damian’s shoulder. Damian stiffened a little, but his expression remained blank as he kept staring off into the distance. 

The words sat on his tongue like acid, burning his throat from the inside out. He wanted to shake the boy and scream at him that it didn’t have to be like this. That he didn’t have to pretend to hide where those bruises came from. That he didn’t have to miss school like this. That he didn’t have to come running to his older brother’s house anymore. He wanted to scream the softest words he knew he’d never heard before. But he settled for letting his hand fall from his shoulder and placing it next to Damian’s clenched fist. Not an invitation, or a threat, just a reminder. 

They stayed like that for a while, sitting in silence. When they finally arrived back home, Jason noted that Damian seemed less dejected, but as if he was now just floating above his body. 

Jason took his place in the rocking chair Meemaw Vicky got him for knitting in. The whole thing had been her idea, she said knitting helps keep your hands and your mind off of other things – and god knew he needed that. The old, stolen, clock that sat on Jason’s, also stolen, shelf reminded him of something he had very much conveniently forgotten. 

Meemaw Vicky would be arriving in exactly ten minutes, maybe longer if she was late – Jason knew she wouldn’t be. His gaze turned to Damian who was sitting quietly on his couch, reading through one of the random books Jason kept on his shelves, next to that clock. Dog slept at his feet, her muffled snores indicating her tiredness after their walk. Damian’s glazed over eyes flew across the words, leaning back into the plush cushions as he flipped the pages. His nose crinkled every few sentences, trying to decipher whatever hidden message the author was trying to make him read between the lines for. He had two options, shove Damian out the house before Meemaw Vicky can get her hands on his chubby cheeks and then end up with a knife in her ribs, or lock him upstairs till she leaves. He decided on neither. 

“I have someone coming over soon.”

“Pennyworth?” he didn’t even look up as he answered him.

“For the last time, he probably knows where you are already and no I have not called him. A friend of mine is visiting.”

“You have friends?” that got an amused look from Damian. Friendly eye contact, progress.

That comment snapped his invisible patience though.

“Speak for yourself,” stop, “you’ve been at that school for what? Eight months?” what are you doing, “How many friends have you managed to make?” why am I saying this, “And how many of those kids actually know you past the fact that you’re a billionaires kid who can’t talk about his feelings?” God please just shut up.

Jason bit the inside of his cheek before he could continue fucking up. He tasted copper while he saw the emotions flit through Damian’s eyes. They were too short to recognize but he felt each one like a gut punch all the same. Damian just blinked and looked back down to his book, obviously not actually reading it. Progress erased. 

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t. It’s fine.”

That feeling came back, the urge to grip him so tight and engrain what he was feeling into his bones. The feelings he couldn’t hope to find the words for. The apologies, the forgiveness, the reassurance, the anger. 

The ringing of the doorbell announcing Meemaw Vicky's arrival interrupted Jason thoughts.

Damian didn’t even pretend to be interested in getting up. He just kept looking at the book.

Dog got up and happily trotted over to greet her through the door. Jason sighed as he walked over to open the door, giving her cheeks a kiss each as to say hello.

“Oh Jason, I finally managed to grow those orchids we talked about! They were tough but they bloomed just this morning! I brought a few cuttings for you to keep around the house.” Her smile                     seemed to cleanse the soul, letting you know just how good her intentions always where. Not a bad bone resided in this woman’s body – maybe that’s why Jason loved having her over. He felt as if the goodness overflowing from her every word would stain him and his house so that nothing of his past would remain. And he also just enjoyed the company every once in a while.

Jason failed to notice just how quickly the elderly woman could still move. She had already gotten all the way to his living room while he was thinking, leaving the plastic bags surely filled with flower cuttings on his kitchen counter. He had to move.

But when he walked the distance and talked himself out of revisiting the locking Damian upstairs idea, all he found was Meemaw Vicky leaning dangerously close over Damian’s shoulder, asking him a list of questions about himself. 

She stood up and looked to Jason, shoving an accusatory finger in his space. “You never told me you had a little brother! I expected better from you, Jason Todd.”

Damian scoffed at that. Jason just rolled his eyes and mumbled an apology.

Meemaw Vicky sat a respectable distance on the couch from the boy, giving him ample space. She had calmed down considerably, but still asked Damian questions he answered through gritted teeth. 

“How old are you?”

“13.”

“Oh, same age as my granddaughter! You’d love her. I think I should bring her over one day to meet you.”

“Please don’t.”

“So what are you learning about in school? Ooh, what book have you got there? I need to catch up on my reading.”

“I- I am on a normal curriculum and I’m reading, uh, Pride and Prejudice.”

“I see,” she sat back for a moment, studying him, “you know that’s your brother’s favourite book.”

“…Really?”

Meanwhile, content that he wasn’t going to stab her, Jason had left the two alone to make some tea. While waiting for the kettle to boil, he decided to actually check his phone for the first time since last night. The usual app notifications were quickly deleted, with a few kept – if he doesn’t keep the instagram notifications he will never remember to watch all the reels Dick sends him, and then he’ll never hear the end of it. His finger stopped in it’s motion across the phone when it lit up with a call screen. The caller ID seemed to seep into Jason’s psyche and grip his lungs. 

‘Bruce Wayne’ in plain, black text in front of the white background laughed at him. It was taunting him. 

He declined the call. And the next one. And the next three. 

He only picked up the last call because this time it came from Alfred, and he was too scared to decline a call from that man.

“What’s up?”

“Master Jason, I assume Master Damian is with you?”

“Why?”

“He didn’t come home from school yesterday. He’d only ever stay the night at your or Master Dick’s house.”

“And how do you not know he’s not at Dick’s place?”

“Because he at least answers Bruce’s phone calls the first time. Master Dick has not seen Master Damian.”

Damn that man and his phone addiction, and his undying loyalty to their adoptive father.

“Listen, he’s here but I can tell he doesn’t wanna go home. Not yet.”

“That is not what I’m concerned with, what I don’t like is him getting to skip school. You know how important an education is to give that boy some semblance of a normal life.” Although Alfred’s words were curt and pinched, Jason felt the genuine care that lay beneath them. Alfred loved Damian just as much as any of them. 

“I… I know. But Alfred, did you see his neck? People would ask questions. And you know he hates that.” He spoke in a hushed voice, careful to not let Damian hear.

The silence that came from the other end of the call was filled with the kettles high-pitched whine. Quickly turning the stove off, Jason wracked his brain for what to say to Alfred about any of this. 

But, it was Alfred that spoke as Jason poured the cups of tea while holding the phone to his ear.

“I was not made aware of any injuries. How bad are they?”

“God, Alfred I- shit,” he winced as he spilled some boiling water on his hand, “I don’t know. He won’t even let me see but there are nasty bruises all over his neck. And I can tell they go further. He must’ve had a pretty bad fight, did something happen?”

“Master Damian has not been on patrol for a few days though, he has been on a strict sleeping schedule due to an upcoming school project.”

“… what?” Suddenly, those calls from Bruce started making sense.

It was hours later, Meemaw had left long ago and Jason disappeared into his room. When he descended the stairs, clad in his vigilante costume, he found Damian still sitting cross-legged in the living room. He was actually properly reading the book and Jason almost didn’t have the heart to interrupt him. 

“Did you bring your suit?”

“Of course.”

“Good. Get dressed. Meet me on the roof.” He knew he didn’t have to explain how to get up there, he'd find his way fine. 

By the time Damian finally joined Jason on the roof, Jason stood with his hands on his hips looking like an impatient mother. “Follow.” Was all the instruction Jason gave before he darted off in the direction of the next rooftop. 

When they stopped a few minutes later, Jason looked over to Damian, “Tired yet, kid?”

Damian shook his head, a neutral expression staining his face.

This continued for city block after city block. Mile after mile, they ran. Every few stops, Jason would look to Damian with a grin– a challenge of his own. And Damian would accept it every time.

Only when both of them were drenched in sweat and panting for breath did Jason finally speak again. 

“Tired?”

Damian stood hunched over, with his hands on his knees. Oxygen flooded his lungs as he breathed and sweat dripped off of his face. He didn’t even try and respond.

Jason just chuckled, huffing before setting off in a run again.

Only about five rooftops later did he think to look back. He didn’t think he would find Damian right behind him – on all-fours, his chest heaving. 

Jason silently came towards him, sitting on his haunches and placing a hand on his shoulder. His voice was gentler this time, “Tired?”

Damian’s eyes were screwed shut. Tears of exhaustion burned him. The stench of sweat invaded his nostrils. Every part of his suit clung to him in all the wrong ways. He wanted to tear every offending piece off of him. He wanted to scream but the exertion had stolen too much out of him.

Jason’s eyes narrowed. His hand rubbed soothing circles into Damian’s shoulder as he spoke, “Hey, it’s gonna be ok. You did good.”

No. No he didn’t. He had failed. He’d lost the challenge. He couldn’t have hoped to keep up if they had continued. He-

“Hey. Look at me.”

Slowly, Damian’s eyes opened. His ribs burned with embarrassment as his gaze lifted. 

“I’m sor-“ Damian tried.

“Stop.” His voice wasn’t too rough this time, he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. He’d been trained better than that. And yet Damian still winced. 

“Look at how far we came. How far you came.” He nodded his head to the horizon behind them, and Damian followed his guide to glance back.

He couldn’t even see Jason’s house anymore. He could only see an unfamiliar landscape dotted with buildings and rooftops. They had gone so far he couldn’t even recognize where in Gotham they were. 

“Where are we?”

“One of the newer suburbs, Bruce hasn’t mapped this part of the city yet. That’s why I love coming here.” He stood, moving to the edge of the roof.

“Why did you bring me here, Jason?” the way he said his name made his heart hurt.

“Because,” he grunted as he swung his legs over the edge and took a seat, “I wanted to remind you that you’re human. You can’t do everything. You can fall over because you’re exhausted. You can fail.”

Tears pricked at his eyes for a different reason now. His limbs screeched at him as he stood.

“I am aware that I am only human. I am reminded of that every single day.”

“Yeah, but did anyone ever teach you that that’s a good thing? That it is allowed?”

Damian reluctantly sat next his brother. It was late by now, the final streaks of dusk laying in the sky.

“I can hardly see how constantly being told that you are human is a good thing.”

“Told?”

Damian’s breath hitched.

Jason smirked, “There it is.”

The younger boy’s shoulders dropped. 

“So, who is it? Who do I need bury?”

He refused to answer.

“Damian if someone is hurting you, you are allowed to defend yourself. You don’t need to keep up this civilian charade when it comes to-“

“I know that. My civilian persona doesn’t have anything to do with this.”

Jason quirked his brow at this. A deep orange glow disappeared over the buildings and the final stars began to show. The theory Jason feared the most was rearing it’s ugly head.

“It was Bruce wasn’t it.” It was less of a question, but he was getting tired of beating around the bush. 

As the navy sky blanketed the city and snuffed out any of the golden sunset, Damian finally allowed himself to let go. Jason didn’t need to look over to see the tears flowing down his brother’s face, he knew. How ever silent Damian thought he was being or had been last night in Jason’s room, he knew. He also knew the pain. The pain of acceptance that came with acknowledging what had happened, and who did it to you. 

“I wasn’t fast enough. I deserved it.” Jason just let him talk, “We were training, and I- I failed. I could’ve been faster, stronger – I could have…”

It took a few more moments before he continued, “I got too tired. He caught me too many times. I-“

His voice broke when Jason pulled him towards his chest. He wrapped his arms around the too-young boy. Damian let his heart sink. He let his exhausted mind melt. He let himself be human for a second. 

[incorrectbatfam]

The only acceptable trans Tim headcanon would be Tim introducing himself to the batfam as a boy from the get-go with such confidence that no one questions him. Then, his first solo case as Robin is investigating the disappearance of Jack and Janet Drake's "daughter," so he pretends to have a twin sister by forging a bunch of documents and photoshopping family pictures. He then fabricates evidence of her death, committing multiple crimes in the process, and holds a fake funeral at the end. Because if his previous name is dead to him, he's gonna kill it the Tim Drake way

[sparkoflena]

Kon: Why are you staring at me so intently?

Tim, completely casually: I think I want to stab you with Kryptonite a few times. In different areas. For science.

Kon: ...why is my best friend considering torturing me?

Tim: I'm wondering if it takes you down so badly because it is truly that dangerous to you or if the invulnerablility of Kryptonians gives you a weak pain tolerance.

Kon: And you're asking me, a half human, instead of Clark or Kara?

Tim: They'd start telling Bruce about my "concerning villainous behavior" again.

Kon: And I won't?

Tim: I've kept fighting through pneumonia, a gunshot wound, and broken bones. And you go down when I poke you with a rock. Come on, you've got to be curious.

Kon: ...okay, I am a little curious.

Tim: YES! You won't regret this!

Kon: I will absolutely regret this.

[prlssprfctn]

I know the fandom mostly agrees that Jason is that one always unemployed sibling in the family, but let me offer you a slightly enhanced concept - unemployed sibling Jason, who is the busiest sibling in the family.

No one can get hold of him. Like, ever. And it is not like he is lying, he is genuinely always has something else to do! Something random and unexpected, and, honestly, all his family can think is: what the hell?

Bruce, frowning: Remind me again, why the dinner in the circle of the family today doesn't suit your... schedule?

Jason, shrugging: I have a book club evening in the nursing home. We are discussing Margaret Atwood's Penelopiad tonight. Can't miss it. Also, Jennet-

Alfred, confused: Who is Jennet?

Jason: One of the old ladies in the nursing home, duh... Anyway, yeah, Jennet is having a birthday. She would be hella mad if her favourite grandson missed it, you know?

Bruce: ...Jason, you are not her-

Jason: (leaves)

Dick: Hey, wanna join me for tomorrow morning's training?

Jason, sighs: Sounds nice, but I have classes tomorrow.

Dick, confused: Classes? Since when you are enrolled in college?

Jason: Oh, no. I am a substitute teacher in one of the school's around.

Dick: WHAT-

Damian, calling Jason in the middle of the day: Can you pick me up from school? Others are busy, there is an emergency in the town.

Jason: Damn, sorry, kid, but I am not in the country right now. By the way, do you want to talk with your mother?

Damian: ...What that supposed to mean? Where are you?

Jason: I was planning to visit All-Caste, but first decided to meet up with Talia. I am kinda in Egypt right now, anyway.

Damian: ...

Tim, already used to Jason's constant busy status, sighing: I bet you won't agree if I call you on the lunch tomorrow?

Jason: Uh, no. I have plans. But if you tag along with me, we can get lunch together later.

Tim, surprised: ...Okay. What do you have tomorrow? Knitting club? A shift in library?

Jason: Nah, graduation ceremony.

Tim: Right, you are a substitute teacher.

Jason: No, no. My graduation ceremony. I am getting my PHD in literature.

Tim: SINCE FUCKING WHEN-

[who-always-pays-their-taxes]

He might be 6’0 and built like a brick but i see the rage of a teenage girl in his eyes

[ashoss]

my lovely son waking me up to tell me he threw up.

us waking up my wonderful butlerfather to tell him he threw up.

[factual-flittermouse]

Bruce: Dick, what’s this I’m hearing about you trying to send Tim to Arkham?

Dick: For the last time, I NEVER said that!

Tim: As good as!

Bruce: *disappointed dad voice* Really chum, I can’t believe you would tell your brother such a thing.

Dick: I didn’t! I just suggested therapy!

Tim: *scoffs* Yeah, in METROPOLIS.

Bruce: *Gasps*

Jason: *Gasps*

Damian: *Betrayed*

Alfred: *Too proper to gasp so loudly, but almost fumbles his antique feather duster*

Dick: Oh come on, it’s not that bad! It’s close, it’s relatively safe, and their PHDs are less likely to go rogue.

Jason: *Cover’s Damian’s ears as he backs them both out of the room, still loudly gasping in offense like the theater kid he is at heart*

Bruce: I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.

[arkangelo-7]

Bruce, high on pain meds: one time I wiped your memory and returned you to the orphanage because you had tried to convince me that Superman didn’t murder my parents.

Dick, also high on pain meds: we listen and we don’t judge

[batsyheere]

Bruce tries to adopt Ellie, who is immediately against it. She keeps throwing him off her trail and he keeps tracking her down. She's honestly concerned, and normally she would handle her problems by herself- but this is Batman.

So when Bruce gets a little too close and Ellie is just so tired... she calls for Danny.

"Mom!"

Cue college student, perpetually tired and overworked Danny "High King Phantom" Fenton appearing from the very shadows Batman normally does himself, seeing the situation and going off at this "clearly older man" chasing his daughter in the middle of the night.

Cue the most elaborate "stop trying to adopt my kid before I adopt yours" series of battles

[ifyoucandaniel]

this is so stupid but here’s a little comic i made for a little bingo au me and @twisted-tales-told came up with a few weeks ago. pretty much just the idea that jason needed a cover at some point and stumbled in on bingo night and was quickly adopted by the little old ladies there. now he plays every friday and has beef with dora and gets sent home with banana bread :) clara is trying to set him up with her grandson and all of her problems with her land lord have mysteriously been solved :))

being involved in his community is very important to jason and he loves seeing them host community events bc it feels like his home is healing

bonus: none of the bats have the faintest idea what Jason does in his spare time aside from babs and dick is so butthurt he wasn’t invited (not pictured: nightwing outside the bingo hall window looking in look a kicked puppy while jason flips him off)

(this is my first comic pls be nice it’s just a sketch)

[oifaaa]

It's funny how opinions can change over time for instance I used to want Bruce to be a good parent but then I realised how fucking boring that is to read at the end of the day comics are soap operas and I'm here for the drama

[breannasfluff]

“Tony’s Pizza delivery!” Danny knocks on a door and stands back slightly, waiting for the answer. Silence. He knocks again. “Pizza order! For…” he checks the box, “Rob!”

There’s the thud of footsteps behind the door, but it doesn’t open. It’s like someone walked right up to it and is waiting. The house itself has blacked-out windows and piles of trash on the lawn. Something about the situation feels…off.

Danny pulls out the taser, which he usually keeps in his pocket. The other hand tightens slightly on the pizza box. He doesn’t go intangible, not yet, but his powers bubble around his core, ready at a moment’s notice.

The door swings open. There’s a gun pointed at his face. 

Acting on instinct more than thought, Danny snaps the taser forward and presses the button when it meets the man’s arm. There’s a roar of pain and the gun is dropped. 

Keeping a hold of the taser, Danny drops the pizza box on the steps. “You owe us payment next time you order thank you goodbye!”

He bolts, grabbing the bike and wheeling it next to him instead of jumping on it. Pulling on intangibility it spreads to the bike as well. As soon as he’s around the corner, Danny goes invisible. His heart is hammering against his chest and all he wants to do is curl into himself. 

Still, he keeps a hold of the bike–no good if it suddenly pops into existence–and breathes through his panic. The taser worked. Sure, he didn’t get paid, but he also didn’t get shot. If Tony’s upset, Danny will ask him to take the cost out of his wages. 

After another few minutes of breathing exercises–thank you Jazz–he’s settled enough to flicker back to visibility and bike back to the shop. 

Tony glances up at him when he enters and does a double take. “What happened, kid?”

“Didn’t get payment for the pizza. Sorry.”

The owner’s eyes narrow. “This wouldn't happen to be because someone pointed a gun at you, would it?”

“Er…”

Laughter is not what he expects. Tony just grins at him. “Kid, I just got a call saying the delivery boy had a taser he wasn’t afraid to use and skedaddled without payment.”

Danny winces, waiting for the beratement. 

“Rob gave you a five-star review. Said it’s the smartest move he’s seen in a while. Paid over the phone for once. You’re good, kid.”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Do people often answer the door for pizza while holding a gun?”

A shoulder shrug. “Around here, it’s more common than you’d think. But if you think you’re in danger, you act to protect yourself, got it? The pizza shop will recover if someone decides to order elsewhere. Besides,” and Tony’s grin edges on feral, “they don’t get many other choices.”

Crime Alley residents, Danny decides, are a rare breed of people.

Read the rest here!

[incorrectbatfam]

Alfred gets sick of Bruce breaking and losing stuff on patrol so he gets a label maker and starts naming items after the kids

Alfred: I got you a new phone, just like you asked. Its name is Jason. Try not to let it die.

Bruce, tearing up: Why would you say that—

[andstuffsketches]

vanity

[monkesupreme]

dense, neutron star of a man. His weight fluctuates based off of the amount of sun hes been exposed to, and the amount of water ingested, so a very healthy kryptonian easily weighs around 350-400 lbs/ 158-181 kgs. Martha quickly traded in her lawn chairs for sturdy, solid wood, rocking chairs for the front porch as he got older, but Clark seems to be drawn to the flimsy lawn chairs like a moth to a flame.

(Hes prone to shouting for his Ma or Pa when hes scared awake, old habit hes never broke out of lol)

Bonus: a regular day for Bruce

[headcanonthings]

Bruce: That information is classified. Clark: We’re begging you, Batman. Please just tell us what you want for your birthday.