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I want a Past-Talon Dick Grayson au where he joins the court as a kid but for some reason his biology stays mostly the same (Bruce found an antidote, the court wanted him to be an adult before they stopped him aging, Dick stopped it from spreading, etc.)

In this scenario Damian, Cass and Dick have similar pasts as children raised to be assassins and have a "Villain" family member (Damian's mother and grandfather, Cass's father and Dick's Great-grandfather) and while everyone knows this about Cass and Dami only a select few know about Dick.

Damian: Just because I have more training than you doesn't mean you should treat me like a feral creature ready to maul others to shreds when I'm not put on a leash!

Tim, panicking: Dami- I didn't mean tha-

Dick: No one is defined by their past. Damian, if you killed someone, I'd still trust you because I know you and I know you're trying.

Damian: How can you be so certain, so foolishly trusting? How would you know anything? You haven't killed dozens of people, you're a hero. How can you be so gullible to think an assassin could become anything like you by simply trying!

Dick, slightly tearing up and smiling: it's happened before, I believe in you baby bat.

Dick: I haven't met anyone in my family except my parents.

Dick tries to avoid Cass's gaze, Cass is concerned why Dick is acting likes he's being put on trial.

Dick: If you kick the chin at this angle it'll snap the neck with minimal effort

Jason: Bruce didn't teach me that

Tim: Me neither

Dick: He didn't?

Dick laughs it off, something all of them can see through but only the former assassins in the cave can see pain in.

Dick, delirious from an extreme fever: ...am I a weapon? A killing machine? Do I deserve your love?

Alfred: of course you deserve it, I wouldn't offer it if not, Master Dick. You aren't a weapon or a machine and you never were.

Damian quickly leaves his hiding place in favor of finding a quiet place to think through these revelations.

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Jason and Tim talking about dealing with Bruce

Jason: How do you do it? Isn't he so... frustrating?! Doesn't he drive you nuts?!

Tim: Of course he does.

Jason: Then what do you do instead of wanting to strangle him?

Tim: Easy. Set Dick on him.

Jason: ...What?

Tim: Yeah. Nothing sends Bruce into a tailspin faster than a disappointed Grayson.

Jason: *Looking at Tim with awe in his eyes* You're a scary, evil, little genius

Tim: Yup. Works on everyone.

Jason: *impressed* Damn.

Jason: Wait... what do you mean it works on everyone?

Tim: What I said - it works on everyone.

Jason: You... you've never set Dick on me, have you?

Tim:

Jason: ... *cracking his knuckles*

Tim: Noooooo

Jason: *grinning meanly* Hey, lil bro. I think it's time for some brotherly bonding

Tim: *already running* Dick?! DICKKK!!!!!

Jason: *running after him* You shut up!!!

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”Damian-“

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I once asked my mom if she would burn the world for her children, and she said she couldn't. Her reasoning was that there were other mothers' children in the world, and she couldn't do it. For them, she would suffer losing her children.

I asked the same question to my siblings, they did not hesitate: they would burn the world for the people they loved.

They asked me the same question. My answer was the same: I would burn the world and dance on its ashes for the people I love.

And it got me thinking, batfamily:

Bruce wouldn't.

Dick, Jason, Damian and Steph would.

Cass, Tim, and Barb would, but first, they would try to burn themselves.

Duke, I'm not too sure. But I feel like he wouldn't either (let me pretend he is a softie)

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I drew a lot of jasons muehehhe

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When Bruce was new to the whole having children thing, he was always stepping in and trying to break up fights. His resolve was quickly broken, and he just decided to put rules on fighting out problems. No breaking anything, no weapons, no hitting face, neck, or groin, and no knockouts.

Batman leaned against the wall and casually watched as Robin and Red Robin beat the shit out of each other. The JL glanced at each other.

"You... You gonna do something about that, Bats?" Barry asks cautiously.

"It's been a long time coming." Bruce grunts. "Let them handle it." A hit to the jaw lands on Damian, and he shouts at them: "AY, KEEP IT AWAY FROM THE FACE!"

"FUCK OFF!" Tim screams but he doesn't punch Damian in the face again.

Diana nods. "I approve of this parenting technique. Sometimes problems need to be solved with some bruises and blood." Bruce nods as well.

"I've found breaking up their fights just means they still get bruised but no issue is solved." Batman explains and Diana hums thoughtfully.

"Would it not also be adequate to have them duel?"

"No, they do actual damage if i let them have a weapon.

"Ah, I suppose that makes sense."

Everyone is horrified.

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Tim: Jason is essentially… Angry Bird.

Dick: Explain.

Tim: Red helmet. Used to be a Robin. Anger issues. Therefore. Angry Bird.

Dick:……When was the last time you slept?

Tim: IRRELEVANT. Can we throw Jason at things?

Bruce: *from somewhere in the Cave* NO.

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Batfamily get tired of Bruce and Jason's insanity and as true hypocrites buy them monthly sessions to the therapist that they cannot ignore, like, at all. That ensues some troubles.

Jason: *sprawled on the couch in the Batcave* Bruce: *brooding around* Jason: What's up with you? Bruce: I am dreading over the upcoming therapy session. Jason: Oh, lmao, they forced you, too? Bruce, irritated: That's a ridiculous waste of time. I don't even need it. Jason: Yeah, same. Wanna tip, though? Gaslight the shit out of your therapist. Bruce: ...What? Jason: Lie to them. Forge fake stories. If they are a good therapist, they will catch you. But you know what? Mine believes me. Can't wait to find out just how far it can go. Bruce: That's wrong on so many levels. Bruce: ...I'll try.

Of all things that could mend Bruce and Jason's relationship, this makes a trick. They start discussing their therapy sessions all the time. But not because they receive some kind of useful feedback, but because they keep giggling about gaslighting their therapists.

Bruce unleashes his full Brucie Wayne potential on that poor therapist. Like, yeah, he will discuss his traumas... No, no, not his parents' death! He, of course, meant that one incident with Oliver Queen, when they were seventeen and drunk, and-

Bruce: I think I genuinely didn't have so much fun since forever. Therapists truly can help. Jason: I have an amazing idea how to make it even more hilarious. This one is a little insensitive, but hey. Whatever makes it funnier. Bruce, squinting: ...Jason. Jason: Are you in or not? Bruce: ...

*a few hours later, in the living room of the Manor, with all family members gathered*

Bruce: Jason and I asked you to come since we have news for you. As you know, we had been visiting therapists for a while, and it was an immense help to our mental health. As it was expected, in the middle of the sessions we came to the topic of our relationship. Jason: Yeah, uh. We kinda decided to get a separate therapist for this. Like, family one. For us to go together. And fix things. Bruce: Yeah. We just wanted to update you on this. All support would be appreciated. Dick, wiping his tears away: Guys. Guys, I am so proud of you. Jason and Bruce: *high-fiving each other behind their backs*

Do they actually go to the family therapist? Yeah! Do they still continue creating fake ass stories to test their doctor? Yeah! Do they actually by the accident start oversharing their own emotions during acting by an established scenario and actually get a whole mental breakdown in front of terrified therapist? Yeah...

Therapist: So, uh... *checking scribbled notes of a messy drama that Bruce and Jason rehearsed a night before* ...H-how about we think about where it brings us now? Mister Wayne, do you feel guilt about what happened? Bruce, answering automatically, out of prepared lines: Of course, I feel guilt. I always do. Therapist: Okay, why won't you try to apologise before your son? Bruce, stammering: I-I don't know, I am a prideful person Jason, also abandoning their script: Oh, wow, and I am not?! Therapist: O-okay. Uh, mister- Jason: Like, not saying, but it would be nice to see you discarding some of your pride, when all I do is to stomp on my own to please you! Therapist: Okay, okay, how about... Jesus Chirst, mister Wayne, mister Todd-Wayne, are you crying? Jason and Bruce, sniffling: NO!

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I was at the mall with my mother when we walked past one of those sword and other weaponry kiosks. I of course slowed to look at some of the wares before catching up and quietly saying "Daddy likes a pretty weapon" to which my mom yells "what!?" And then had to support herself on a nearby display while she laughed.

I am confused by this because I say weird shit all the time, so she should not have been surprised, but apparently, while I was distracted by a nice knife, a man was checking me out. So my mom was amused by me calling myself a pretty weapon and concerned that I was calling a stranger daddy.

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A little family portrait in celebration of season 3's upcoming release.

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Tim, undercover: I'm Alvin.

Dick, also undercover, popping up behind him: I'm Simon!

Jason, also also undercover, ominously leaning down from over their shoulders, looming and using his deepest voice: I'm Theodore.

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The Light of Gotham

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Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.

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wanted to draw some leather jackets. these are all jason's

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The Red Hood