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#tt the titans are not the dick grayson club just so you know
hood-ex · 1 month
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"The Titans. Dick didn't need to pull this team together. It formed around him."
No you're right, Bruce, Dick didn't need to pull this team together, Raven did.
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iphoenixrising · 3 years
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DickTimWeek2021 Day 2
** Day 2: Time Loop | Jealousy | Stray AU
Welp. Time to break some hearts.
They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 
“Did you see that thug punch himself in the face?”
“That’s the right way to get out of an ass beating by the Batman.”
Tim, still in Red Robin, doesn’t even bother, just lets his knees buckle so he can slide down to the floor and laugh until tears are rolling down the dominio still plastered on his face.
He’s riding the concussion train with 
(J)
Josephine and she’s not as bad as some of them are. 
Dick at least tosses the gloves and gauntlets before hauling Timmy’s bruised ass up off the floor, throwing the arm around his shoulders.
“C’mon, you butt. Really Timmy, just laying here in your suit? Alfred would be appalled.”
“S’why I don’t go to the Manor much anymore.”
“Ooh, I’m telling. You’re going to be in so much trouble,” as he gets Tim down the hallway to the bathroom.
“Y-You can’t! You’re the oldest! Dami’s supposed to be the tattle-tale!”
“Nu-uh. As the oldest, I can do whatever the hell I want.”
And does he tell on Timmy? You bet your ass he does.
It’s nice when Alfred can look at someone else in the family with extreme disappointment.
Tim comes by the Manor the day Alfred video chats him, shuffles down to the Cave behind the butler and absolutely sticks his tongue out at Dick’s smarmy grin.
**
His apartment is a literal mess and Dick can’t be bothered to do much more than flop on the overstuffed couch with a groan. 
Still in his uni from the day shift, he’s too bruised and battered and tired to even think of suiting up for the night. He’s been running himself ragged for two months, the day and night shifts blending together along with the usual bullshit of daily human life, and he desperately needs a night of terrible television, junk food, and snuggles.
Like he’d been reading the room, Timmy walks out of his bathroom, towel around his shoulder and hair just this side of damp.
“Hey, you made it home in one piece.” Tim’s long fingers in his hair literally pulls a noise out of Dick he can’t ever remember making.
“Yeah, I drove down because you looked like death warmed over when we talked last weekend. Luckily for you I went grocery shopping, did a few loads of your laundry, and cleaned up a little so you don’t have to worry about housework.”
“I love you. Have I told you that recently? Like, so, so much–” is muffled by the couch cushions, but he thinks Tim can probably still make it all out.
“Mmhm, I know,” and the gentle scratching against his scalp doesn’t stop, and Dick goes a little boneless with it. “I even brought my Roku so we can binge watch terrible television while you eat something more substantial than cereal. Alfred is going to be so proud of you.”
A pat to his head and Timmy is off, slinging his towel on the rack, turning on the shower again to make sure it’s nice and hot for all those bruises and contusions.
He’s no-nonsense about picking up his previous mentor and best friend, literally stripping him down and manhandling him in the shower after a low whistle at the span of blue/black across Dick’s chest and ribs, the scrapes across his back and shoulders. 
The first aid kit tackle box makes an appearance because Tim plans for literally everything ever, and Dick finds himself sitting on his sink wearily while his injuries are meticulously treated.
He knows he eats something super tasty with meat and vegetables, his belly full, before Tim pulls him down on the couch and lets Dick lay against his chest, between his legs to sleepily float while watching God-awful B-movies.
It’s the most relaxing weekend he’s had in a while.
**
Dami sneers at Tim, arms crossed over his chest, the expression on his face begging Tim to try to deny it.
The third Robin however, is looking over at Dick with horror that the big secret is finally out in the open.
“Th-that isn’t– it’s not–” Tim fumbles desperately, “he’s been my big brother forever, that’s it!”
“Tt. Grayson may be painfully oblivious, Drake, but the rest of us are detectives. Even Todd knows of your feelings and he rarely even comes to the Manor!”
Tim’s soul literally leaves his body.
Dick blinks, completely taken back, mouth open without anything coming out.
Damian raises his eyes skyward and prays for patients dealing with these two. “What I am saying,” he tries, he really is trying here, “is that you two must cease and desist this pointless–” vague hand wave– “pining for one another. It is getting to the point of absurdity. I demand you two either discuss your need for one another or take this ridiculous mooning elsewhere. The rooftops of Gotham is no place for this,” another hand wave, “utter nonsense.”
Tim’s mouth goes dry, subtly backing away to be closer to the Ducati’s waiting for tonight’s ride. He’s pretty sure he has enough energy left in his shaky knees to hop on one and be the fuck out of the Cave before his face literally bursts into flames.
But, well. Dick was Batman.
His strategic retreat is stomped into the ground by acrobatic leaps and a very well done joint lock to keep him from immediately taking off.
Dami scoffs at them on his way up the winding staircase. He stops Pennyworth on the way and turns the butler to return back into the Manor proper, citing those two needed time to figure themselves out.
**
After several weeks under deep cover, Nightwing wearily hacks into Titan’s Tower and makes his way through the maze of hallways until he hits a hidden panel. 
Tim is sleeping on his desk, only one empty coffee mug at his workstation. Even dead in his boots, Nightwing can take a second just to look, just to sigh, just to enjoy how much every inch of this boy is his.
He journeys down the hall, flips the bed covers up, carries his sleeping partner in and tucks the blankets around him, a quickly there kiss to the top of messy, too-long hair. A shower in Tim’s perch literally makes everything in life a little less awful and exhausting, not enough for him to do much more than crawl in bed against Tim’s warm body and snuggle up close.
He gets breakfast in bed and blue-violet eyes looking at him with fondness rather than awe, gets coffee flavored kisses and a slow-paced back rub that continues down to his thighs and calves and feet. Later, he gets a date night in a nice restaurant and a sweet San Fran club scene for dessert. He gets to let loose and hold Tim’s body against him, to play them both until the gazes are intense and the low key UST between them makes other people on the dance floor give them space.
**
Witty banter is a primary weapon against megalomaniacal bad guys of any flavor. For some former Robins, it’s an art form.
Over the years, they’ve cultivated their dip and distraction to bounce off one another like a well-oiled vigilante machine. 
It should have been a standard take-down because it’s not one of their more dangerous, deadly villains. It’s not one of the Rogue Gallery baddies. It’s not one of the mobster families, not one of the super powered groups come to call. It’s not someone with hordes of thugs and deadly science waiting to take them down.
It’s a simple B&E, just Nightwing talking it up to draw gunfire while Red Robin is creeping up from behind to get the last laugh.
It’s one of a thousand times they’ve done this. 
It’s a guaranteed win.
It’s the last hour of patrol before they get to go back to Red’s penthouse and snuggle together, eat and show, probably have some fantastic sex before passing out.
The .45 shell, however, cuts through the suit, between armored plates. 
Going after the running baddies is automatic, taking them down, zip ties, and viola. They’re ready for GCPD to pick-up, all kinds of gift-wrapped.
When N finally realizes Red isn’t with him, isn’t answering comms, isn’t waiting for him on the roof, he goes back inside. He hits up B for a ride in the big car in case he missed –
– anything.
The pool of blood around Red Robin is more than he can afford to lose, and Nightwing has been in the vigilante life for over twenty years, has been official with Red Robin for a little over two, has personal experience on how his Baby Bird can take a mostly-fatal beating and still keep moving. He’s seen Tim come close with the Clench, with horrifying injuries, with any of the many bad guys they fight holding him hostage.
Nightwing has seen him perform literal miracles.
And tells him so the entire time he’s got Red Robin up in his arms, carrying him through Gotham’s skyline to the waiting car, falling in with Red on his lap when the familiar hatch slides back, the tourniquet already applied before he even shot a grapple. The struggling pulse is enough of a concern to get it together.
And even if they all gather to strip off the suit, and now it’s on to get vitals back to an acceptable range. Even if the Bats cry overhead, even if the equipment is top notch in the Cave, even if Dick is still talking the whole time, and Alfred is keeping a cool head and Bruce is gripping a hand and Damian is standing at the ready to hand implements and Cass is biting her thumbnail while she hovers and Steph is moving from empty space to empty space around the gurney –
The consistent beep of the flatline cuts through it all.
**
The Titans make it for the service. 
Each of them make a point to hug Dick for as long as possible, holding on tightly.
Bruce is silent and stoic, a little boy again when he has to watch someone else he loves being lowered into the cold, unforgiving ground. Another Robin taking a piece of his heart to the afterlife. 
Steph is red-eyed, a ghost moving around to individual circles, listening to stories she might not have known. 
Cass grips the coffin with bruised knuckles, her whole body wound tight as a string ready to snap. She doesn’t move the entire service, is already convinced leaving him to his own devices caused this whole thing. She doesn’t blame the thugs or Dick or Bruce. She blames the boy that never understood how much it all means.
Duke Thomas is back in Gotham, taking leave from the Outsiders to be here for the family that took him in after the Joker drove his parents insane. He hovers in the doorway to welcome mourners, direct them toward the book to sign-in, talks about Tim Drake with regular humans and other metas in disguise, accepts condolences with his throat tight and his eyes watery. He makes sure Dick has a bottle of water after the first hour, pats Damian’s shoulder, grips Bruce’s arm, weaves an arm around Cassandra’s back to give her a squeeze, obediently looks at the old pictures of Tim on Steph’s photo roll when she’s overcome and has to see that smile again.
In the back, Jason Todd wears dark shades and a clean black suit. Roy Harper is beside him, a hand on the broad back to keep him grounded, to keep the Pit rage at bay. If anyone knows how far Tim and Jason had come over the years, it’s the former Red Arrow. If anyone knows how much agony Jason is in at this moment, at another fallen brother, another Robin gone, if anyone had held the Red Hood while he screamed and cried and broke the utter fuck down, it’s Roy Harper.
Damian Wayne hovers right by Grayson’s side, silently supporting his first Batman, his first brother. Whenever Dick’s eyes start going hazy, glazing over, Damian gently grips a wrist to bring him back, allows fingers to lace through his own and tolerates the tight squeeze that obviously assists in grounding the oldest Robin. 
(Later when the night is crowding grief-stricken Wayne Manor, Damian will be the one to open Grayson’s bedroom door, lift the covers to crawl in behind him, to wind both arms tightly. He will be the one to take the onslaught of grief, to be soaked in tears and snot, to listen to the broken, hoarse voice, to make soothing hums that ultimately mean nothing.)
Alfred Pennyworth quietly talks with the funeral director about the arrangements. Of course Master Timothy would want to be laid to rest with his parents, and the family appreciates all the support and ease of process as the deceased was an important part of the Wayne family. 
When he gets a phone call, he firmly verifies the name on the tombstone is Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne Grayson.
**
Exactly four days after the service, the Flash is staring at him helplessly, gripping Nightwing’s arm tight, “please, please, Dick, don’t do this. You can’t think this is the answer!”
He can barely hear Wally with the absolute destruction going on around them, the machine they’d inadvertently stumbled upon (which is a lie, Nightwing had been looking for it and the Flash basically caught him red handed). 
“You know you aren’t going to be able to stop me.” Standing between the glowing portal and Wally, debris from overhead crashing down on them at intervals, Nightwing is at his peak stubborn, “no matter how fast you are.”
“You don’t understand what’s going to happen,” Wally yells desperately as the vacuum starts pulling at Nightwing’s other arm, pulling him into–
–the Speed Force.
“You don’t have the lightning, Dick, you won’t be able to get yourself out, and I won’t have any way of tracking you!”
The small smirk as the machine’s panel starts going haywire, lights blinking and readings off the charts, makes Wally’s heart clench hard in his chest, makes him try to dig in his heels, makes his stomach tremble.
“You have no idea how many times I’ve already done this, Wally. And I’ll do it as many times as it takes until I change everything.”
The pellet Nightwing palmed before the Flash grabbed his hand goes off the same time the machine hits the highest ratings and a low boom is followed up with an intense swirling suction, pulling the heroes closer to the portal’s surface.
The light grenade goes off without a hitch and the Flash has no choice but to let Nightwing go.
**
They’re laughing like assholes as they climb through Timmy’s penthouse windows. 
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snothing · 3 years
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Mar’i’s going on a date Drabble
I wrote this a while ago, and never really finished it. I decided oh what the hell and posted it. Sorry for any spelling mistakes! 
Also, love triangles, jealousy, and protective (immature) twin brother galore! 
“I can’t go on the mission tonight.”
Seven pairs of eyes peered at the seventeen-year-old Prince of Tamaran. Jake was out of his Nightwing uniform, donning instead a comfortable pair of blue jeans and a loose-fitting t-shirt. He looked out of place amongst his fellow Titans, who were all donning their superhero uniforms.
“Are you joking, Grayson?” Damian growled, getting up from the monitors. The Boy Wonder stalked right up to Jake, the opaque lens of his mask glared at the younger boy. “We’ve been staking out the warehouse for an entire week! You can’t just bail now.”
“Yeah, Jake. There’s literally a shipment coming in tonight,” Lian spoke up, arms crossed. She tried her best to rein in her disappointment, but the displeasure was evident in her features.
“Sorry, guys,” Jake responded sheepishly. “Sometimes things just pop up, but hey, tomorrow, I’ll be back in duty and ready to unleash some Tamaranean hell.”
“Like that’ll do us any good,” Jai West snorted. “You’re like one of our heavy hitters.”
Irey was inclined to agree with her brother. “Yeah, Jake. We could really use you in the air with Jon. Are you sure you can’t come tonight?”
Jake shook his head apologetically. “Positive. Look, I’m really sorry, guys. I know I really dropped the ball on this, but it’s really out of my hands.”
“Tell me, Grayson,” Damian narrowed his eyes. He resisted the urge to look up. Even though they were only two years apart, Jake held two inches over him, a source of contention for the ex-assassin. “What’s more important than stopping an illegal shipment of kryptonite firearms?”
Jake glared and stood his ground. “It’s personal.”
“Oh come on, Jake,” Jon elbowed him. “You can’t just quit on a mission like that and not tell us.”
“Yeah, tell us, Jake!” Colin Wilkes sang from the couch. “And we were supposed to get nachos after, remember? How can you say no to nachos with your bro?”
In a blink, Jai was behind him, looping an arm around his neck. A friendly smile played on his mouth. “Whatcha got that’s so important, Jakey baby? Got a hot date or something, hmm?”
Lian frowned as she eyed Jake sharply. “Well?”
“Oooh, look at his face! Jake’s gonna see his girlfriend tonight!” Jai teased, oblivious to the darkening cloud on Lian’s face. “He’s gonna get some of that-” he made crude thrusting gestures.
“Ew, Jai, stop it!” Irey scolded, hands on her hips. She smiled kindly at Jake. “Jake’s a gentlemen. He’d never be so vulgar.”
“You should hear him when we game,” Cerdian grumbled. “Boy’s got a foul mouth.”
“It’s okay, bud,” Collin patted his shoulder understandingly. “I’d chose a lady over nachos any day.”
“Tt. Figures, Grayson,” remarked Damian, haughty. “You can at least try to take this job seriously. If you weren’t so busy thinking with your-“
“I’m not going on a date!” Jake blurted out. “Mar’i is!”
Oh shit. He was not supposed to say that.
The shadows on Lian’s face disappeared. She let out a sigh of relief but slyly cast a glance at the gobsmacked Robin and SuperBoy. They looked as if Jake had slapped them in the face.
“What?” Jon asked, failing to keep the crack in his voice at bay. Beautiful, studious Mar’iand’r Grayson— his secret crush of THREE years— was going on a date— with someone— who was not him? “Mar’i? Date?”
Damian tried to tame the storm on his face, knowing damn well that Harper and Wilkes were analyzing his every move. Still, even he could not help asking dumbly, “Mar’i as in your sister?”
“What other Mar’i would it be,” Lian chided before grinning micheviously. She knew she was treading in dangerous territory, but the chaotic side of her couldn’t resist. “She’s going on a date? That’s great! It’s about damn time someone asked that girl out!”
Lian swore she could feel someone’s heat vision on her, but whose, she was not quite sure. Damian would no doubt make her pay in training later.
“No, not great, Lian!” Jake retorted, cross. “The pokar’s name is,” he paused to gag dramatically, “Brendon.”
“Oh, I remember her talking about Brendon!” Collin said thoughtfully. “They’re both in the Astrophysics club at your school, right? She said he was a senior?”
“Ooh! Mar’i’s dating a senior!” Irey exclaimed happily. “How exciting!”
Jake, Damian, and Jon all shot the speedster a glare. “Yes, Brendon. He asked her out yesterday. Said he wants to take her to get milkshakes and,” Jake stopped to shudder, “tour the observatory.”
“Oh, that’s kind of romantic, right? They’re both into space stuff— well, she’s from another planet! I think it’s sweet,” Irey tried to appease him.
“It’s tacky,” Damian snorted, arms crossed. “Who takes a girl to get a cold beverage and see stars? Overplayed and overrated.”
“Not to mention racist! Yeah, take the alien girl to an observatory! She has other interests, too, you know! Like gardening, old movies, and birdwatching!” Jon snipped. The team was shocked to see him react this way; he was characteristically optimistic, rarely ever showing aggression outside the battlefield, and now, he looked ready to explode.
“Don’t you think you three are being too harsh?” Lian asked, eyebrow raised. “It probably took a lot of courage for this guy to ask Mar’i out.”
“Uh, no, Lian, I don’t,” Jake answered, indignant. Lian promptly rolled her eyes.
Damian turned to him. “Does Grayson know about this?”
“Uh, yeah, Damian, I’d think Mar’i’d know if she were going on a date.”
“Not Mar’i, idiot. Your father!” Damian snapped. Dick was very protective of his children, especially his darling Mar’i. 
“Use our first names, dummy! If you hadn’t notice, my mom, my sister, me, and my dad all share the same last name!” Jake shot back. “And of course, he does! He’s not happy about it either, but Mom-- the traitor-- made him agree to it!”
“So what are you going to do, Jake?” Lian inquired. She eyed him suspiciously. “You better not be thinking about ruining her date.”
“Do I look like I have a death wish? She’d kill me if I did that!”
“Then what? Last time I checked, Mar’i was the same age as you, and —get this— totally capable of making her own damn decisions!”
“I disagree with Harper, ruin the date.”
“Damian!”
“I’m not going to ruin the date. I am simply going to ensure this Brendon behaves in an honorable fashion,” Jake interjected. 
Lian frowned. “So you’re gonna spy on them?”
“Yeah, essentially,” Jake conceded. “But I’d like to say reconnaissance. This ‘Brendon’ is perhaps a form of ooze monster in disguise. If that’s the case, her dear brother Jake is here to save the day! And hopefully, she’ll see that dating is gross and never do it again.”
“You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?” Lian sighed, exasperated. She always knew there would come a day when Mar’i would go on a date and Jake would freak out, but honestly, she expected it would either be Damian or Jon. She could not even imagine the fallout from that.
Jon cut in, placing a hand on Jake’s shoulder. Normally, he’d never condone something this immature, but today, he would make an exception. “I don’t think so Jake. You gotta do what you gotta do.”
A grin blossomed on Jake’s face. Feeling validated, he turned to the archer, a smug grin on his face. “Thank you, Jon! See, Lian, at least someone understands me! I’m just doing my brotherly duties. 
Lian rolled her eyes. 
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tessatechaitea · 5 years
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DCeased #6
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My favorite time of year is movie poster variant month! But now that I buy so few DC comics, this is the only one I bought. I think.
At the end of the last issue, Superman had become a zombie and turned his undead wrath upon Earth. So I'm not sure why this is an extra-length issue. Won't it just be thirty pages of the Earth burning and everybody screaming and zombified Batman saying, "--tt--"? If Batman and Lex Luthor are dead, who else has the kryptonite needed to stop Superman from destroying the last vestiges of the human race? And why is Ambush Bug never even a part of Elseworlds stories? Oh, I forgot that I mentioned Damian would probably have the Emergency Back-Up Plan B Superman Containment Option left to him by his dad.
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Batman knew that if Green Arrow ever turned evil, he'd just eventually be shot by a cop.
Wonder Woman forges a magic sword from Damian's kryptonite and flies off to stab Superman in the face. I'm sure she'll kill him but then she'll turn. Then who will stop Wonder Woman? She should let Cyborg implant a bomb on her so that if she turns fighting Superman, he can just blow her up before she gets a chance to turn Green Lantern or Firestorm. Somebody has to come up with a way to stop this domino shitshow. The arks were built before Martian Manhunter attacked. Maybe he was too scared of Firestorm's flaming head to attack immediately. Anyway, a bunch of people begin escaping on the two arks (which hold seven million people each) before Superman has been dealt with. I have a feeling seven million people are about to die screaming. Poison Ivy chooses to remain on Earth and Harley chooses to remain with Poison Ivy. Then they bang for like ten pages. Or they would if DC liked money.
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Bye bye giant penis! You're no longer needed down here!
Aquaman sees your giant penis ship and raises one gigantic vagina.
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This is what a vagina looks like, right? Unshaved, obviously.
For the record, Mera has the best ass in the DC Universe. I know most everybody is scoffing and shouting "Dick Grayson!" at me. Some of you remember Supergirl's bum as being the best and, at the time, under Mahmud Asrar's watch, it absolutely was the best ass. But at this point, Mera's ass is canonically the finest ass in the DC Universe. And now I must stop writing about it or I'll need to take a secret break.
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I still want to see Green Arrow in a foot race against Batman. Why am I the only one who wants that story?!
While the Atlanteans battle the Amazons (isn't that always the way?), Black Green Canary Lantern, Cyborg, and Wonder Woman battle Superman. Dinah begins by creating a huge bullhorn to amplify her sonic scream and, I mean, come on. Look at how eloquent my turns of phrase are in complimenting that attack! "I mean, come on" is like the biggest compliment I can give a writer for one of their ideas. It's like saying, "I didn't want to use any brain power to come up with a compliment because all of my brain power was being diverted to appreciating your idea." My second biggest compliment is offering to jerk off the writer (I am of the firm belief that the term "jerk off" is non-gendered so don't think I'm just willing to pull some puds. I can bang some fingers too!). The Amazons remain behind to fight off the Atlanteans while the second ark takes off. To keep the arks safe, Wonder Woman cuts off Superman's arm and stabs him in the chest. But of course Superman punches her in the ovaries and bam! She's now one of them! She gives her magic kryptonite sword to Dinah so Dinah can finish him before he destroys the arks. Cyborg remains behind as penance for starting this entire catastrophe. I always knew he was a terrible character. If only Marv Wolfman would have left him as a brainless toaster back in The New Titans. As Superman nears the arks, Superboy has to leave to battle him to buy the arks more time. Lois is all, "Yeah, yeah. Hurry up. Save your mom now! So sad! Good luck!" Then she begins thinking up a great first sentence for the article she'll write that will win the first Martian Pulitzer. As Superboy is knocked out by his dad, the entire Green Lantern Corps finally arrive led by Guy Gardner. Finally! A real hero that can stop this disaster from spreading! I suppose if Guy can't end this catastrophe, the world's last hope will be Lobo.
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I love him so much. Mostly because I love me and, I mean, he just defined me in describing himself!
Superman flees into the sun and begins devouring it. I suppose that's something I've always known Superman could do. Sure, his big plan to stop the virus from turning him was to fly into space and asphyxiate. But he can also consume an entire sun. I think maybe Batman was right about living Superman. He just wasn't imaginative enough to ever stop Batman. It took the Anti-Life equation to bring out the best in him. The Green Lantern Corps escort the arks out of the soon-to-be-dead solar system and on to their Earth 2. If only they knew how terrible Earth 2 is! Poor survivors. Back on Earth, Cyborg learns the cure was in him all along. So he clicks his heels together and Wonder Woman snaps his neck. Oh well! Goodbye, Earth! Goodbye, Sol! Goodbye! DCeased #6 Rating: This one time, I ate half a bag of hallucinatory mushrooms and went out to a club. While at the club, I had to pee. At least I felt like I had to pee. Sometimes when you're on mushrooms, it's hard to tell if you really need to pee or not. While waiting for a urinal to be free, I realized how awkward it was to wait to pee while not watching other people pee but also needing to sort of watch them pee so you don't miss out on a free urinal. Reading this series wasn't anything like that.
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Cut the Death Jokes
For Day 6- Death of the Batfam Halloween Content War! Tim isn’t a big fan of the obligatory October death jokes. Special Guests Conner Kent/Kon-el, Bart Allen, Garfield Logan, Raven, and Rose Wilson! Rating: PG Gen Words: 2,202 AO3
Life was tough. Living as all the people you’re close to die? Even tougher. So when Halloween rolls around and the inevitable zombie jokes start rolling out from those who have came back Tim gets rather uncomfortable. It’s not that he begrudges them the ability to joke, if anything it’s a healthier-than-what-most-of-his-family-does coping mechanism.
It starts October first and Tim is glad that it’s at least Jason, who’s jokes about dying and being undead are a regular occurrence over Tim’s comms. He’s laying on his back on a couch in the manor’s living room when the older boy walks in. Jason takes one look at Tim and the bruise like circles under his eyes and grimaces. “Wow Replacement. You look about as good as me, which is to say corpselike.”
Tim frowns up at him as Jason smiles and continues to tease him. “I know you’re still trying to fill my pixie boots but being dead inside is enough, you don’t have to look the part too.”
Glaring Tim sat up, skootching back towards the armrest as Jason flops down by his feet. “Must you?” Tim asked acidly.
“Uh, duh? It’s my month man! October is prime time for the undead like me! I get to crack as many jokes as I want and no one can stop me.”
Tim frowned and turned to half watch the crappy horror movie that Jason had flipped on.
A couple days later Tim was nursing a large mug of coffee at the kitchen table while Dick argued with Damian over breakfast. Alfred had begrudgingly agreed to let Dick cook with his supervision and Damian was now staunchly refusing to eat it. Which Tim didn’t exactly blame him for; Dick’s pancakes were infamous.
“Grayson, I have died once and believe me I don’t need to do it again!” the younger boy yelled, brandishing a butter knife.
Dick just narrowed his eyes. “Rude.”
“Do you have to?” Tim muttered.
“What are you mumbling, Drake?” Damian spat.
“I said, do you have to? Make jokes like that?” Tim looked at his brothers wearily. He’d had a rough night breaking up a turf war in the East End and really didn’t need any emotional strain on top of the physical exhaustion.
“-tt- Drake it was only the truth. Grayson’s cooking is deadly and I do not wish to be subjected to it,” Damian said with a weird look.
From the stove Dick also raised an eyebrow at Tim. Taking a sip of his coffee Tim shook his head. “Whatever. Just ignore me,” he mumbled into his mug.
Titans weekend rolled around and instead of training they had all agreed to do some team bonding and in the spirit of Halloween Garfield had pulled out his and Victor’s combined horror movie library for the day. Tucked into a blanket burrito and squeezed between Bart and Rose on the couch Tim had started to doze off. The movies not holding his attention and the sounds of Cassie and Kon making dinner in the other room similar enough to home that it was becoming increasingly difficult for Tim to stay even remotely awake.
“That is disgustingly inaccurate,” Raven observed of the ‘demonic symbols’ on the screen. Tim cracked an eye open and had to agree. “Not to mention,” Raven continued. “That resurrection scene was beyond unrealistic.”
Tim made a face from his blanket cocoon. “Raven…” He half chided, half whined.
“Yeah Rae! It’s a movie! Just enjoy it!” Gar said, sticking his tongue out at her.
“As much I hate to say it, but I’m with Raven. This movie sucks,” Bart chimed in from beside Tim. “I think we could make a better one. I mean, some of us at least know what it’s like to actually die.”
Without a second thought Tim shot out his elbow, directly into Bart’s side. The speedster yelped and glared at Tim.
“Dude! What was that?!” Bart pouted, rubbing a spot just below his ribs.
Tim just glared back at Bart while on his other side Rose laughed. “That was the most aggressive passive aggressive thing I’ve ever seen the bird boy scout do and I am proud,” she said with a wicked grin.
Tim just snuggled deeper into his blankets while the others all gave him questioning looks.
Tim was having an average, boring Wednesday at work when he got a text from Cass. All it had was the house emoji and the ambulance emoji which meant that he was to come home right now because there was an emergency. Phone in hand Tim grabbed his keys and the suit jacket from the back of his office chair. He rushed past his secretary, mentioning that his sister needed him for some emergency before half sprinting to the elevator. On the ride down to the parking garage he texted Cass asking her for more details and just got the house emoji again.
He had barely parked his sports car in front of the manor before he was hurtling out of it and up the steps through the front doors. “Cass! Cass! Where are you? Cass!” Tim yelled, his dress shoes losing traction on the foyer’s marble floor causing him to skid to a haphazard stop at the base of the grand staircase.
His sister appeared at the top of the steps, a mischievous smile twisting her lips and her short hair sticking out at odd angles. She waved him up before disappearing back down the halls towards the little used west wing of the manor. Kicking off the cursed shoes Tim followed. She led him further up the manor’s numerous floors to a hall that dead-ended with a window overlooking the patio, pool, and sprawling grounds at the back of the house. Said window had been propped open and what appeared to be a zipline was stretched from the window to a tree at the edge of the property’s small forest.
Cass turned to him and her eyes sparkled. “Need a lookout,” she confessed, confirming Tim’s suspicions that Alfred had no knowledge nor approval of this particular adventure.
Tim’s shoulders slumped and his head dipped as he looked at Cass with a frown. He knew that she was getting every bit of annoyance, disbelief, and brotherly concern that his body was practically screaming at her.
Cass just giggled and shrugged. “You only live twice little brother.”
Tim let out a groan so dramatic it required him to fling his head back and go half limp. “Cass! Really? You’ve been hanging around Jason way too much. You should be better than this!”
“I know. I’m sorry. Just… couldn’t resist,” she admitted and patted his head in a half-hearted attempt to soothe him.
“You owe me.”
“I do. Love you brother,” she held out her arms for a hug and begrudgingly Tim accepted it. “Tis the season,” Cass whispered in his ear as they embraced.
“Don’t tell me about it,” Tim grumbled.
The jokes became increasingly worse and more frequent as the month progressed, Tim had taken to muting certain friends and family members on his comms when he needed to. Although he hadn’t figured out a way to mute people in person.
He was working with Steph on taking out Riddler and a group of his thugs on night. The quips and batarangs were both flying and Tim had to admit that he was having fun riffing off of Steph. Although that ended rather abruptly.
Steph was dodging punches and knocking guns away with her staff as she laughed. “Oh c’mon boys, you’ve gotta do better than that! I mean, the enthusiasm is appreciated but really? Death is very been there done that for me and you guys are just so uninspired with your attempts at killing me!”
“Batgirl!” Tim scolded as he punched a goon in the nose.
“What?” she asked genuinely confused.
“Do you have to? Like really?”
“Double R I have absolutely zero clue about what you’re talking about. So how about we work out whatever it is after the fight and not during? Kay? Kay.”
Tim just growled and started taking the thugs down faster and fiercer. Soon enough they had Riddler cuffed too and the GCPD was on its way.
“What was that about?” Steph asked as they stood on the roof of the neighboring warehouse, watching the cops stream into the building.
“Just, the death jokes. I dunno. They’re not exactly good taste?” Tim muttered, not wanting to meet Steph’s gaze.
“Dude. Seriously? Dead Robins Club bro. If we can’t make fun of it what can we do? S’not like we can go to therapy or something.”
Tim grimaced, he knew that but that didn’t mean it made him any less uncomfortable. “Just… Never mind. Forget I brought it up. I’m sorry.”
Steph gave him a weird look but her comms beeped and she put a hand to her cowl. “What’s up O?” She turned and began running toward the edge of the rooftop, off to whatever emergency Gotham was offering up now. At least it ended that awkward conversation.
It was the weekend before Halloween and Tim found himself in Smallville. Kon had been asked to take Jon trick-or-treating before going to Titans Tower and he had invited Tim to come with them. Which Tim soon learned meant that Kon needed his help in throwing together a last-minute costume to go out with Jon in.
Tim was laying on top of the worn quilt on Kon’s bed, staring up at the glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling while his friend googled quick costume ideas and raided his closet.
“Why don’t you just go as Superboy? It’s not like anyone is gonna be able to know whether you’re really Superboy or not,” Tim suggested.
“Trust me, I pitched that idea. Both Ma and Lois vetoed it faster than Bart eats pizza.”
Tim hummed noncommittally and continued to stare at the ceiling. That was until he got a balled-up Superboy t-shirt to the face. “Ow,” he said, sitting up.
“Use that giant brain of yours and help,” Kon said, gesturing around the small room. “What’re you being anyway?”
Tim held up the t-shirt that had just pelted him. “If you won’t be Superboy than I will.”
“Hardy har har. You wouldn’t let me wear your Red Robin suit?” Kon ventured.
Tim raised a single eyebrow. “A) you already know the answer to that. B) you’re a good four inches taller than me! You’d never fit and you know it.”
“Worth a shot.” Kon shrugged. “What about a zombie? I can rip up some clothes and put some fake blood on and I really am already a zombie so I could just walk around in my normal clothes… Tim? You ok?”
As Kon was talking Tim’s lips had smooshed togethering into an increasingly straightening line as his brows inched closer to each other. He was only half processing Kon’s words and was just staring at his friend without realizing that the other boy had stopped speaking. Kon waved his hand in front of Tim’s face and with that Tim exploded.
“Do you have to joke about that? I mean, ok you died and it sucked but like you’re not the only one and guess what. You came back! Which is a heck of a lot more than some people can say. And while you were dead how do you think everyone else was taking it? Cause let me tell you it sucks. Sucks! When your best friend dies and then your other best friend dies and then your ex-girlfriend and your mom and dad and step-mom and then your adoptive dad and your crabass little brother and the only reason you’re a part of the family in the first place is cause your older brother was brutally murdered but y’know he’s better now. Oh! And your sister at one point died and was resurrected and didn’t really see the point in bringing it up until like a year later? So yeah. It sucks. It’s a ‘coping mechanism’ or whatever but for the rest of us it’s just not funny.”
Tim had been pacing the room, arms flailing as he spoke. But now he collapsed back on Kon’s bed, breathing heavy as he tried to calm down.
Kon had flattened himself against the wall as he let Tim rant, eyes wide the entire time. “That- that was a lot man. Do you wanna talk about it?”
Tim let out a stuttering breath. “I think I’m good now.”
“That was a lot of pent up rage… How long has this been bothering you?”
“A while now? Just, all month it’s been really bad,” Tim shrugged. He looked down at his hands and felt Kon sit on the bed next to him before looping an arm over his shoulders.
“Well I promise to make a conscious effort to not crack undead jokes from now on and I’ll mention something to Bart. Deal?” Kon asked.
“Deal.”
“Good. Now help me with a costume or I am wearing your suit.” Kon grinned.
“Absolutely not!” Tim told him before holding up a flannel shirt. “Here, be a hipster.” That earned him another t-shirt to the face.
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