#so Jason doesn’t die

[mmmmmmeow]

the fact that dick sees him as a little brother is so heartwarming tbh (dick gave it to tim as robin) LIKE AWW this is the sibling dynamic i love tbh. like no they all don’t hate eachother they care for one another. idgaf if they get into arguments every two seconds they’re my babies

DCU Holiday Special (one shot)

[grierpilots]

ROBIN LIVES #4 SPOILER

the way we could have had it all it’s pissing me off so bad how do you start a comic run SO GOOD and give me expectations to end that way ☠️ nah, i won’t accept this shit

[superbat-lmao]

Red Hood gets himself into some sort of mess with a cult and as he’s getting himself out runs into Batman. He’s pissed and being reckless on purpose because it’s the one thing that scares Bruce the most.

Bruce takes a hit and is de-aged and as nice as it would be to call the Justice League or even the bats, Jason doesn’t really want to get arrested and resolves himself to figuring it out on his own.

Bruce is uncooperative, non-talkative, and thinks he’s been abducted. Jason has very little time so he’s speed running through a lot of personal things he knows about Bruce and his trauma that he wouldn’t tell anyone else about. Neither of them are happy about this.

Bruce stops fighting when Jason takes a bullet for him. It finally sinks in what sort of danger they’re in and Jason really is doing his best. He’s trying to get back to the manor without alerting any major players about their movements.

After their understanding, Jason catches himself thinking Bruce really isn’t too bad of a kid. He wouldn’t say they’re getting along, but it’s better.

When they do get back to the manor, Bruce refuses to leave Jason’s side. At all. Alfred is the only one who isn’t surprised by this as everyone else tries to approach him and he basically sticks to Jason. (I can’t decide what age he should be because either he’s young enough to try and hide behind Jason, who picks him up, or he’s old enough that Jason stands slightly in front of him and redirects his siblings as best as possible without being too obvious).

Jason is benched to recover from the bullet wound and the other batsiblings are out trying to undo the spell. He doesn’t press Bruce for anything but does sit next to him on the couch in the library reading aloud. Or Bruce helps him hobble down to the kitchen where they watch Alfred make dinner and talk quietly. It’s a side of Jason no one thought existed anymore.

Bruce can tell that Jason tenses whenever one of his siblings is in the room, and that puts Bruce on edge because no matter how much the others tell them they’re safe, Jason remains on alert. All of the batsiblings try and corner Jason since he’s finally at the manor but Bruce is the perfect excuse for them to leave him alone and he’s grateful for the space.

When they do eventually figure out the spell and a way to reverse its effects, Jason and Alfred are the only ones who realize how nervous Bruce really is. Jason talks to whoever is going to do the spell and asks if they don’t mind going somewhere slightly more private than the middle of the batcave. Jason holds Bruce’s hand for the spell and tells him to breathe.

When he changes back, Bruce sees Jason looking at him openly, more vulnerable than he’s ever seen him. It’s disorienting and he doesn’t let go of his son’s hand. He can see Jason about to put his walls back up and pulls, telegraphing everything. He hugs him and tells him thank you for looking after him for the week. He asks about his shoulder. It’s more words than Jason has heard from Bruce for months. He wants to bristle and fight him except he can’t stop seeing all of the ways that the boy he met is super imposed over the image of his father. It’s throwing them both off. So Jason sighs and tries to relax his shoulders and just leans against his father. It’s doesn’t solve everything, but it’s a start.

[demigod-shenanigans]

Cannot overstate the fact that I haven’t specifically written this snippet for a fic, but I was thinking about the kind of mindset Jason must have been in pre Burning Maze and this snippet just kind of happened:

Jason knew that Thalia was the first person he’d ever loved, but he could only miss his sister like a kind-faced stranger. He missed her like a butterfly he’d chased through the woods when he’d been little—almost close enough to touch, but always just out of reach.

Jason missed Reyna, but the feeling was foreign, like phantom pain in a lost limb—an incomprehensible ache originating from a part of him that was no longer there that flared up at random intervals and that he didn’t know how to soothe.

Jason missed Leo like the fire of a hearth. Like the warmth and safety of a home he’d never known, and had realized from the beginning he wouldn’t be able to keep. Because if there was one thing Jason could rely on in his life, it was that the good things never lasted.

Jason missed Piper like a final string. He‘d thought that at least he’d always have her—until, suddenly, he didn’t.

And then he was free falling.

[unforgivingchorus]

I’m back on my Tim Drake doesn’t have a Bristol accent agenda! He only lived in Bristol for max 2 years and that’s including the time he lived with Bruce. Until 14 he spent his time moving between various houses across Gotham City and in various boarding schools in Gotham. (No I don’t know why Gotham has multiple boarding schools or why Tim went to multiple boarding schools). He lived with Bruce in Wayne manor at 14, but by 14/15 his dad woke up from the coma and they bought drake manor. Living in drake manor for, maybe a year and a half, before at 16 they have to sell the manor, and they move to a brownstone in Gotham city proper again. Then when Jack dies, sometime very soon after that he barely has time to live in Bristol again before the Red Robin happens where he is (probably freshly) 17. Your accent is pretty well developed when you reach 14, and none of the boarding schools are in Bristol, or implied to have alot of students from them. Even then he only spends his school time there, the rest of the time he spends all across Gotham. That is to say his accent is probably a non-dialectical version of a Gotham accent. Something ambiguously middle class but could just as easily be upper middle class or working class. He probably favours the accent of a certain area in Gotham but he also probably mixes slang and specific dialectical features. This is all to say anyone realistic wouldn’t be able to differentiate his accent from a crime ally accent, and Gotham natives wouldn’t be able to place where exactly in Gotham he’s from other than to say where he isn’t from. He probably just sounds like he’s from a New Jersey that locked itself culturally off from even the rest of New Jersey and spawned a new weirder New Jersey accent.

[roseworth]

every day i live in fear that dc will remember that willis todd is alive rn

[bamboowick]

I RAN OUT OF TAGS—I’m continuing in another reblog idc

sally jackson would adore jason grace and would give him cookies and get traumatized with his backstory. (he would cry if she hugged him)

[goddamnitmahtin]

Wait for Me

Ok so AU where Jason remembers being dead and remembers what he did while he was dead. And now that he’s back? He’s fucking pissed. He doesn’t actually pay attention to anything while he’s with the league. All of his self preservation? Gone. He just wants to die again and be with his Ghost King boyfriend. That’s all!

…

Jason huffed as Robin pushed him out of the way of the bus. Goddamn it. He was so close that time. The stupid kid. Ruining his chances.

Jason didn’t even really care that he had been replaced. He had expected it. B was never sentimental and Jason was never anything more than a sidekick anyways. He was replaceable. That was already proven. Batman always had a Robin. It didn’t really matter who Robin was. It was a title, not a person.

After pretending to be thankful for the save, Jason decided to go back to the league. Ra’s was like super evil but he was also a dumbass. It wasn’t hard to set him off. Maybe he could get Ra’s to kill him if he was lucky. Probably not. Since Talia and Damian were there. Ra’s wasn’t really much of a man. Nothing more than an idiot who didn’t want to die. The complete opposite of Jason.

He knew Talia and Damian were concerned with his behavior. The only reason he was dipped in the pit in the first place was to spite the Batman. Hoping he would be out for blood. He wasn’t stupid. But instead of getting a broken boy urging for revenge, what they had gotten was a very annoyed teen with suicidal tendencies. And very strange interests.

Jason went into his room of sorts. It was the area they let him live in. He didn’t have much, just a bed and a dresser. The only reason he even lived with them at this point was because they gave him food. He had made it clear when he was brought back that he had no interest in revenge. He just wanted to be dead. It was where he belonged after all. It had upset Talia so much that she had set up a small are for him to live in right where she could always see him. Almost like League of Assassins’ version of suicide watch. It didn’t stop Jason from sneaking out and trying anyways.

He grabbed a book he stole from Ra’s a week ago. He left his little sleeping area and went to find the old bastard. He threw the book at him, hitting him in the face. He could hear it as the book broke Ra’s nose. Good.

���Do you have a death wish?” he asked.

“YES!” Jason screamed, “If I don’t die soon, I’ll be too old for my boyfriend! If I die and I can’t date Danny anymore because I’m too old, I’ll haunt your death cheating ass until the timeline implodes!”

“You have some serious issues Todd,” said Damian.

Jason didn’t care, he just hoped Danny was still waiting for him like he promised. He had to get home. He HAD to die.

[fromrory]

𐔌 ⋮ “He gives you things, doesn’t he?”

– or, the language of devotion from a boy who was raised to conquer, not to love

It starts with the ring.

An emerald, cut sharp like a blade, set into gold with ancient Arabic filigree etched so fine it’s barely visible unless the light catches it. She finds it on her nightstand one morning—wrapped in black silk, warm as if it had been held in a palm all night.

The note is in his handwriting. Neat. Small. Precise.

“For your hand, which should always be protected.

She wears it. Of course she wears it.

She doesn’t expect the next gift—two weeks later, an anklet. golden, thin and elegant, a tiny د (the Arabic letter dāl) dangling from the chain. Damian doesn’t say anything when she finds it.

He just kneels down during a quiet hour in the Manor and clasps it around her ankle himself. His hands are steady. His touch reverent.

“I want them to know,” he says simply, eyes flicking up to hers. “Wherever you walk, you’re mine.”

She forgets how to breathe.

“Okay, but like,” Steph says later, eyes wide, “that’s not just romantic. That’s spiritual warfare.”

Jason whistles low. “Man’s out here forging rings like it’s Lord of the Rings, but hot.”

Dick smirks. “I told you. He’s an intense little poet when it comes to her.”

There are other gifts. A hair comb, made of dark wood and inlaid with jade. A carved pendant with lines from a pre-Islamic Arabic love poem, words so old they taste like desert wind and firelight.

He gives her a dagger once.

Not large. Not flashy.

But beautiful.

Etched down the spine, in Arabic script so fine it’s almost hidden, it reads:

“Whoever touches what is mine will bleed.”

She isn’t scared. Not of him.

She understands what it means—what he’s never been able to say without wrapping it in old language and older steel:

That he was raised by people who saw love as weakness. That he is fighting to unlearn that. That when he gives, it isn’t casual. It’s sacred.

They sit alone on the rooftop again.

Gotham sprawls below. The stars are faint. She’s wearing the anklet. The ring. A new necklace now—another gift, this one with a pressed green stone the color of his eyes, suspended above her collarbone like a vow.

“You’re mine,” he says softly, fingers brushing the pendant.

“Mm,” she murmurs. “Yours, huh?”

“I don’t mean that lightly,” he says. “I mean it the way temples mean prayer. The way altars mean blood.”

She smiles. “I know.”

“I would kill for you.”

“You have,” she says.

“I would die for you.”

Her hand finds his. “You don’t have to.”

Damian looks at her for a long moment. The kind of look that feels like burning incense and ancient gods and poetry that doesn’t rhyme.

Then he says, voice barely above a whisper:

“You are not mine like a thing to be owned. You are mine like breath is to lungs. Like fire is to a blade.”

She closes her eyes, heart thudding. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m yours too,” he says.

Tim finds the dagger a week later.

Jason reads the inscription and whistles. “This boy’s out here writing Arabic death vows.”

“Poetic menace,” Steph mutters. “I love that for her.”

Dick just grins, arms folded. “Told you. He doesn’t love. He consecrates.”

And maybe that’s what it is.

Not love like hearts and flowers and Hallmark cards.

But love like carved emeralds and sacred steel. Love like an altar. Like devotion. Like the whole world could burn—and he’d still reach through the smoke to clasp her wrist and whisper:

“rūḥī…”

i don't really what how i feel about this one .Taglist🏷️: @simpingmyassoff , @shootingstargirl2001 (if you want to be added,comment down below!)

[milkymiks]

Prev

Jason just finished up apprehending the foreign pricks that decided they should deal drugs to kids, telling Oracle to call the GCPD to deal with the clean up, when suddenly a glowing mass barreled on to him. He winced as he fell on his ass, his hands automatically wrapped on the handle of his gun. He lifted his face to look at what clung to him.

It’s a very handsome man with white hair, dressed like royalty with a floating crown, and the man also emits a faint green glow. Said man is also trembling and Jason realizes that fat globs of tears are running freely down his face.

“Jason!” The man gasped, arms clinging tight around his waist, He buried his face on Jason’s neck.

This is all very weird to Jason. He ignored the twinge on his chest as he brought the gun to the man’s head, who froze when he felt the cold muzzle pressed to his head.

“Who are you?”

The question seemed to dismay the man, as tears fell harder from his sculpted face. He sighed and pulled back from Jason’s neck, the gun following the movement. He sighed and pulled a small sad smile on his face.

“I expected this to happen” he murmured, He paid no mind to the gun digging on his skull to rest his forehead against Jason’s.

“Would you believe that we are lovers and that I've been trying to find you this whole time? and now that I found you, you’re full of nasty ectoplasm which might be the reason why you don’t remember me?”

Jason scoffed “as if i’ll believe that bullshit” seriously why was this nutjob clinging to him? The nutjob only sighed again “right” he murmured before plunging his hand inside Jason’s chest.

Jason yelled at the unexpected intrusion, finally pulling the trigger on the gun but aimed at the shoulder, only weirdly the bullet seemed to go through him. Fuck.

Weird sensation of sifting happened inside him. The man only looked Jason dead in the eye as he did what he did while Jason desperately tried to get away from him. pushing at his shoulders and chest with both hands, kicking his sides, only the man didn’t budge, like he was made of steel.

“What are you doing?! stop!”

“I’m filtering the corrupt ecto in you, it really did lock away a lot of your memories. Stop struggling, I don’t want you to injure yourself”

Jason did not, and as if the man expected it, took the hits with no problem. After a few more moments, he finally reluctantly took his arm out of his chest -It’s weird to see his chest still intact when it felt like his insides were being messed up- He looked up at Jason with hopeful eyes, then faltering when he was met with cold indifference.

“You still don’t…?”

Man the guy sounded wrecked, He found the wrong guy it seems and unfortunately Jason doesn’t feel bad, He was just violated by the man.

“Oh man, I know it’s you Jase, I can feel it! Why won’t you remember?” The man whimpered, and Jason could definitely hear the sound in his dreams if only this weren’t a bad time.

“I’m sure you got the wrong guy, now can you get off me-?” Jason was cut off by a growl, A fucking growl coming from the man before him who looked angered by the prospect that Jason isn’t the person he was looking for.

“I’m not wrong! You just don’t fucking remember!” He groaned -oh god are those fangs?- before taking Jason’s face in both hands and smooshing their lips together.

It hurt and it was awkward at first, The fangs nicked Jason’s bottom lip, before the man adjusted and suddenly Jason is experiencing the hottest makeout he ever had in his life. Oh and the man is still growling for some reason, but it’s oh so hot, and Jason might die because of the nutjob, and oh god he has a very long tongue, it’s actually reaching down his throat and isn’t that super hot?

Then flashes, memories that he does not remember having, flying by and seemingly returning to it’s spot in his brain. Memories of him and Dick in his fuckass Discowing uniform, sitting on top of a building sipping slushies together. A peaceful dinner with all of the family at that time without Dick storming off. Barbara attempting to teach him code. Saving a boy falling from a fire exit who’s holding a camera and looking at him like he hung the moon. Danny…

Memories of his time as a ghost still wearing the robin uniform came back, How through the years in the realms, and months in Danny’s home dimension, the two slowly fell in love.

“I’m supposed to take over and officially be King once I’m mostly done with my education, or so Clockwork says. Does that mean you’ll be my Queen?”

“Rude, you haven’t even proposed to me”

Danny threw his hands up in exasperation “We’re still minors!” Jason fake sniffed “You’re not even courting me properly…” Danny just stared at him, in fondness or irritation.

“I cannot kill this ‘Joker’ for you when I don’t even know how to go to your dimension, I already took Freakshow’s core as a placeholder for now” True, Jason has the clown's core in a mason jar in his room that he sometimes shakes when he’s bored. So he kisses Danny’s cheek and watches in satisfaction as his lover’s face turns red.

The last memory he had before he was revived and force filled with anger. So the Lazarus pits are just fucking waste ectoplasm.

Jason can feel when Danny pulls out -the tongue literally shoved down his throat retreating- and looks at him concerned while Jason absentmindedly stares at his face. The man in front of him is his long lost lover, who is now King judging by his attire, and who has been looking for him all this time while Jason lost the memories of their precious time together.

Jason let out an ugly sob, then another, and another, as tears bursted from his eyes he had to take off his mask. He threw himself in Danny’s embrace as he continued to cry, Now Danny is crying again, but of happiness as he pulled Jason to his lap.

“I knew I came back wrong, I just didn’t know what” Jason murmured, He felt a hand carding through his hair. “It’s okay, I found you and we’re together again” Danny said, Jason can feel a rumbling from his lover’s chest and smiled.

“Can we go home? I miss you and the castle”

“I think you only miss the castle, fucking favorite” Danny teased

“Not my fault she likes me better than you”

Danny stood up, carrying Jason with ease. Jason settled comfortably on Danny’s arms as the man started making a portal back to the realms. He really did get stronger and more handsome the years they were apart, Jason can’t wait to discover new things from his lover.

“Stop!”

Both of them turned their heads to see Batman and a few others from the justice league rushing to them.

“Fuck, Danny hurry!”

Danny shifted Jason in his arms so he was only holding him with one, and tore a glowing green portal through the space in front of them with the other.

Oh fuck that was hot, Jason needs both of them in Danny’s bed right about now.

“Red hood!” was the last thing they heard as they stepped through the portal before it vanished.

[haveihitanerve]

Tim casually dropping bits of his traumatizing childhood lore on Red Hood(he knows its Jason, but Jason doesn’t know that yet)

but plays it off/alludes to it being Bruce and Dick that are treating him this way. And Jason believes him bc Tim sneaks off to see Jason all the time- which obvi makes the two of them very panicked when they realize he’s with the fucking Red Hood and thats their baby boy, which leads to get-your-ass-over-here-i-was-so-worried-you're-grounded yanks from bruce/dick, and that makes Jason think they’re like… awful+ he has pit madness so he’s not thinking straight and remembering the good parts of living with bruce and how he would never but anyway-

this eventually leads to Jason marching into the cave on Tim’s behalf… only to find, Bruce and Dick actually adore???? This tiny gremlin child??? Would literally die for him??? Are sooooooo fucking happy to learn its Jason, are like, really welcoming??? Love him??? Mourned him?????

And Jason is looking at Tim in confusion, and Tim is in the corner with his tablet and goes “haha. Nice. Horrified you back into the family, uwu” 

Anyway Tim is a chaos gremlin who deserves to force jason back into the family by making him truly horrified and want to raise tim on his own, which tim is not willing to do, so instead he has to co-parent him with bruce, which leads to reconciliation etc etc…

[timmydraker]

On Tim’s nineteenth birthday he had a party with his friends and had chosen to celebrate it at a karaoke bar.

Kon, Cassie and Bart are there in civilian clothes and identities and so are Tim’s old school friends as well as come of his college’s kids, as well as Tam.

Everyone is having fun and while they have alcohol I drinks available, everyone is being mindful to not send it to hard due to Tim only just agreeing to drink before he’s legal.

Naturally, a few of them get competitive and Ives ends up becoming a judge for who wins in certain face offs.

It’s all fun and games until Kon points out that Tim had been spending most of the time taking photos of other people, though admittedly a fair amount are selfies, and insist on everyone watching Tim perform and filming it.

Tim, who’s used to having lots of eyes on him quickly goes from bashful to scheming and everyone gets the performance of their lives.

Tim wakes up with a mild hangover, (hes a good boy who made sure to drink water and eat a lot), and around a dozen missed calls from various family members. He feels out at first before he sees his latest text is from Stephanie saying ‘Handsome and rich and you can sing? Urg why did we break up again?’ She hadn’t been able to make it due to a break out but promised to make it up to him and she always did.

Attached is a link to a TikTok from an account he knows for a fact is one of his friends.

It’s him, standing on the stage with his big pink feather shall, black dress shirt open with glitter visible on his collar bones and a large jacket that defiantly isn’t his likely hanging over his arms. In the video Tim is swaying around happily, cheekily even, while singing ‘I Am A Good Girl’ by Christina Aguilera from Burlesque and sauntering around as if he himself is playing her role.

Tim’s face isn’t all that flushed and part of him wishes that wasn’t the case if only because it shows he was sober enough to be fully aware of what he was doing, which is unfortunately true.

Tim is confident in his public appearance and knows how to handle any backlash, it’s the text from his family that are going to make him crawl into a hole and die.

Dick: Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne, why are you at a club?

Dick: there better not have been alcohol

Dick: also, unimportant and totally not the most important thing, WHY DIDNT YOU INVITE ME 😭

Damian: You look like a fool, Drake. Alfred has been muttering about Father being a bad influence and is threatening my to kick him out.

Damian: I cannot be sure, but I belive I heard Alfred say ‘your playboy ways better not be swaying that boy to be a nuance like you, young man’.

Damian: Fix this.

Stephanie: ‘why you in the club with people wildin’

Stephanie: get it

Stephanie: like the Meghan the Stallion song?

Jason: why the fuck are you at a club

Jason: don’t think I didn’t see that vodka raspberry in your hand

Jason: answer me you little shit

Jason: I swear to go if you were in crime ally I will loose it

Duke: dude Bruce has such a big worry frown I think I heard a muscle snap

Duke: you’re a really good singer though

Duke: good song choice for a rich brat lol

Duke: that was meaner than I meant for it be sorry!

Duke: still true tho

Cass: drink lots of water and I’ll bring you bat burger in the afternoon xx

Bruce: I’m not angry, you haven’t done anything wrong, but did you have to sing a song about being a rich girl when people complain about us being out of touch enough as it is?

Bruce: I’m not mad though.

Bruce: have you drunk water?

Bruce: also did I see Conner Kent there?

Bruce; why was he there.

Bruce: does he understand the dangers of drinking as a Kryptonian?

Bruce: again, I’m not mad at you, just concerned.

Bruce: I’m mean in a little mad but not because Alfred is yelling at me.

Bruce: you know the Brucie Wayne persona was a farce, I have no doubt about that, but that doesn’t mean you need one.

Bruce: not that you can’t have a good time!

Bruce: please answer Dick is yelling at me now too

Damian: Grayson is now yelling at Father.

Damian: He has called him a whore but I believe that had nothing to do with your provocative dancing. I think he just wants to call father a whore.

Jason: I found the bar.

Bart: heyheyheyheyheyhey! Barry said to warn you that Bruce is making everyone do a course on teaching your kids to be alcohol safe and that even the ones who aren’t parents have to do it too lollolololololol

Jason: I was going to get do something but the woman owning it kept talking about how nice you all were so I feel bad

Dick: I mean you didn’t have to invite me I know it’d be weird to have a 27 year old there but that’s not that old!

Alfred: I shall be around shortly with adequate food. Be ready.

Tim was in for it that was for sure, especially when he saw ‘Tim Drake’ and ‘Thristtrap’ trending.

[gaywineauntsstuff]

Dick Grayson:

*runs the titans*

*works for the league*

*has a day job*

*solo patrols bludhaven*

*solo patrols New York*

*on call 24/7 for regularly scheduled Gotham crisis(es)*

*training at least 40% of new gen heroes at any given moment*

*infiltrating the current annoying cult, corrupt gov, spy organization, company, mafia group, evil underground ancestral foundations of a city and random corrupt modeling industry*

*monitoring drug pedaling in 3 cities*

*emotionally regulating 80% of his family bc why would they do it themselves? Nah let’s just ruin relationships for fun -cough Bruce cough-*

* maintaining civilian cover*

*canonically does volunteer work*

I am beginning to think nightwing doesn’t have anger issues he’s just overstimulated bc wtf

Like Dick take a break what is this?

————

Dick currently working on infiltrating the mob, after 4 days of 6+ hour patrols bc bludhaven has no chill an Arkham breakout, a performance review at work that took too long, organizing a titans outer space mission, just got back from training Jon Kent: no one call me plz god no one call me I can’t do this I have so much work no one. Call me plz

*phone rings* -it’s tim

He could ignore it but last time he left Tim alone for a month the dumbass lost his spleen and decided a cowl was a fashion choice (equally bad in his opinion)

Dick picking up the phone with his non broken arm: yello

Tim: so I accidentally maybe got kidnapped and maybe also started a cult around the concept of Batman and I’m out of energy drinks. (All equally dire in tims opinion)

Dick popping 4 caffeine pills: shut up I’ll be there in 30 don’t DO ANYTHing.

—————

Jason: sooo I might be engaged to an alien princess

Dick about to pop a Xanax: tell me it’s Kori or at least in this galaxy

Jason: nope

Dick: …. Can it wait

Jason: she wants to eat me, their species is like a praying mantis knockoff but with space and mind control.

Dick: yeah okay give me an hour I’ll call raven

————

Damian: hello Richard

Dick: what did you do.

Damian: I have been kidnapped by my mother

Dick: again

Damian: I feel it would be redundant to say anything

Dick: …….. alright I’ll call the nearest flying hero be there in a bit… keep ur spine where it is Damian or I swear to god-

——————

Bruce: cult

Dick who just got done with an undercover mission: anddd?

Bruce: we need someone to infiltrate it

Dick: I swear to god I. will. hurt. you

Bruce: hnnnn

——-

Babs: I have… acquired a child

Dick who is fighting deathstroke : …okayyyy

Babs who is watching the fight: she’s a little bit … traumatized

Dick, dodging a katana: preaching to the choir

Babs: can you do your whole, human empathy and kindness tell me ur life story I have puppy dog eyes.

Dick: ….

Babs: you owe me

Dick: … one day I will delete all your numbers and disappear

Babs cheerfully: you know no matter where you go I can find you hunk wonder see you in 3 hours don’t die before then!

[oldmannapping]

Crack HC, because is there any other kind?

Bruce realises embarrassingly late that his Batkids can’t swim.

Gotham’s beach water is pure chemicals and sewage, and the city’s public school funding doesn’t exactly prioritise teaching kids to swim. Steph, Duke and Jason had never seen a swimming pool before meeting Bruce.

Tim’s parents meant to sign him up for swim lessons after he fell into their indoor fountain when he was three and nearly drowned - it would have been so embarrassing if it happened when they had guests! - but forgot.

So Bruce is like. Oh no my baby-soldiers must learn to swim.

Damian insists that since the League trained him to withstand waterboarding, he’s fine. Bruce pulls a muscle in his cheek from clenching his jaw so hard.

Dick insists that he can swim and manages one impressive mermaid-style undulation before becoming disoriented and slamming into the wall.

Duke covers himself in floaties and clings to a pool noodle for dear life, eschewing dignity because “this isn’t how I die”.

Conversely, Tim sinks like a stone, curls up on the bottom of the pool, and waits for death.

Cass, with the lowest body fat percentage, also sinks but manages to squeeze into one of the drains. She re-emerges six hours later in an estuary in New Jersey.

Steph refuses to let go of the wall by the deep end, scuttling away like a crab when Bruce tries to poke her into the water with a skimmer net.

Jason scoffs at them all and manages a perfect swan dive before flailing and crashing into Steph, causing both of them to panic and use each other as ladders to get out.

Alfred asks Barbara for the security camera footage and makes everyone watch it twice a year to keep their egos in check.

[twistpixel]

Tbh the only thing I have to say abt uth is that winick kind of nailed it with “doing it because he took me away from you” because that is exactly the language Bruce uses when he’s talking about his grief and death the people (usually women) in his life are “taken away from him”

[fromdove]

“i told you not to wait up,” jason says, voice low, rough, ruined from yelling or running or both. he's peeling his jacket off one shoulder, the kevlar sticking where the blood’s dried tacky and brown, and you’re already crossing the room to him with a frown and a half-empty bottle of peroxide.

“yeah?” you say. “and i told you not to get stabbed again. guess we’re both bad at listening.”

his mouth twitches like he wants to laugh. doesn’t. his whole body sways like the adrenaline’s leaking out of him, and now there’s nothing holding him upright but pure spite and habit.

you grab his wrist. gently. “sit down.”

“doll, i’m fine—”

“sit. down.”

he does. mostly because you said it like that. partly because he’s tired. mostly because you’re touching him again.

the cut on his side is shallow but ugly, right under the ribs, still leaking a little. the sight of it makes your stomach twist, like maybe if you’d called him one minute earlier, if you’d kept him talking, if you’d just begged a little harder— whatever. you’re not crying. you’re not.

“what happened?” you ask, even though you probably don’t want to know.

he shrugs, flinches. “guy had a knife. i had bad reflexes.”

“your reflexes are never bad.”

he looks at you. for a second. and then away.

you clean the cut. you don’t say anything about how he hisses through his teeth. or how his jaw tightens like he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t feel you, doesn’t care that you’re here, doesn’t want to grab you by the wrist and kiss you so hard he forgets how to breathe.

“you could’ve called for backup,” you say. softly. the gauze sticks a little. you don’t apologize.

“i didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“and you getting hurt is fine?”

“i’m used to it.”

that does something awful to your chest. you press harder than you mean to. he doesn’t say anything. just watches you with those stupid storm-cloud eyes like he’s sorry but also not sorry at all.

“idiot,” you mutter. not looking at him.

“you love it,” he says, smirking with blood on his teeth.

you glare. “you’re literally bleeding out and you still manage to flirt.”

“i’m multitasking.”

you hate him. you love him. you hate that you love him. you love that he’s here, still, bruised and reckless and real and breathing.

you lean in before you can stop yourself. just enough to rest your forehead against his. his skin is hot. he smells like smoke and metal and something that might be yours.

“please don’t die,” you whisper.

he doesn’t say anything.

but his hand finds yours. bruised knuckles and all. squeezes once.

“i wasn’t planning on it,” he says.