#discowing dick

[bludhavensbirdboy]

most humbling moment was finding out that it’s pronounced ’disco-wing’ and not ‘dis-cowing’ like looking back i don’t know how i fucked it up so badly but my brain didn’t compute it was disco. wing. and i’m severely embarrassed over it

[wrencatte]

"I'm probably not going to do any of this year's whumptober," she says after she finishes a second fill.

I wrote this on my phone during a conference call so apologies for formatting and any weird misspellings.

Whumptober no 1. "How many fingers am I holding up?" feat! Robin!Jason and Disowing!Dick (that's not obvious though)

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Jason groans, doesn't open his eyes to silently reply with one particular finger. Dick grins and huffs out a laugh. At least his personality is intact. The amusement fades quickly, though as Jason stays prone on the ground, his breaths slow and deliberate to keep nausea down. Blood soaks his hair and streaks across his forehead. He lost consciousness for half a minute, which is half a minute too long.

"C'mon," he grunts as he slides a hand under the base of Jason's skull, keeping it steady as he hauls the kid up. Jason makes an awful noise and keeps going, folding over to the side to retch. He lets out a soft sob, clumsily reaching for his head. Dick knocks his hand away. "Nope. Don't touch it."

"Glurk," Jason half groans, half gags.

"Very eloquent." Dick rubs circles between his shoulder blades as he retches again. Jason shivers, eyes squeezing shut tighter, arms tucked around himself. He takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, muscles untensing as the nausea lessens. "You back with me?"

"No," Jason says in the tiniest voice he's ever heard. He squints up at Dick. Even in the dim light, his pupils are very obviously not the same size. "Wha 'appened?"

"Bomb."

"...oh. Cool."

"Yep, super cool," Dick says, his own voice airy and light, not giving away the panic that is threatening to overtake take him.

Jason slumps against him, and he uses the opportunity to finally dig out a gauze pad from his depleted supply. He presses it to the wound on the back of his head. Doesn't ease him into it, just presses it down hard enough he can feel blood squelch. Jason cries out and shoves himself harder against Dick in an attempt to get away from the pain. Dick wraps an arm around his back to keep him place.

Head wounds bleed a lot, he reminds himself as the sick warmth seeps through his suit gloves. It's too dark to see how bad it is. The fact that Jason's awake and semi-coherent is a miracle and a half and makes him feel a little better about the severity of it.

"Stop," Jason slurs out, hiding his face against Dick's shoulder. "Hurts."

"I know, buddy. But I've got to stop the bleeding," Dick says as soothingly as possible. Jason whines.

He's only fourteen. Gods, it's like a punch in the gut. It's stupid to be so horrified by it, Dick was doing a lot more at fourteen than visiting his almost-but-not-quite-brother in his city, but it's all about perspective isn't it? Guess he now has a reason behind all of Bruce's outbursts from when he was Robin.

...

Oh shit. Is that why?

"I'm going to pick you up," he warns before his thoughts start going in the wrong direction. Focus on the here and now, Jason needs him to. "Try not to puke on me."

"...no promises," Jason mumbles.

Concussions, the gift that keeps on giving.

That's okay. Well, it's not because it's gross, but it's not the first time someone's puked on him. He carefully stands, holding Jason like he's a toddler instead of a teenager so he can keep pressure on his head -- he's so painfully light even after two years of eating Alfred's food. Jason swallows thickly but manages to hold everything down.

It's not until they're halfway to one of Dick's safe houses (not apartment, they're a little too bloody to risk his apartment, but a safe house? That's fine.) that Jason makes a small noise.

"'m sorry."

Dick doesn't reply right away, trying to puzzle out how they're going to get to the other side of the street without being noticed. He finally makes it over and tucks Jason's cape a little tighter around him.

"'Bout what?"

"Should've moved faster."

He closes his eyes briefly. The scene flashes behind his lids -- him shouting bomb! and Robin turning too slowly. Him grabbing his arm and trying to shove the kid in front of him as they try to run for it, and Dick moving too slow this time because the bomb goes off with Jason taking the shockwave too close and he goes flying.

Dick unknowingly echoes Jason's small sound, something that's close guilt and regret and pain. "Yeah," he agrees. "But I should've moved faster too. Not going to lie, Robin. This wasn't our best showing."

Jason snorts then groans. He goes quiet, and Dick can practically hear the cogs whirring.

"We're not on comms," Jason whispers a block from the safe house. Dick makes a questioning noise. "You called me Robin, and we're not on comms. You never do that."

Why did he have to pick now to go from semi-coherent to fully? Dick climbs the fire escape, his steps heavier than normal with the extra weight.

He's not wrong. Which is the worst part. Dick had been doing it purposefully, and then it became a habit. Only on comms would he call him Robin. Face to face, even in the suit, he was kid or Jason, ignoring every sharp "names" reprimand that came from Bruce.

"I messed up," Jason continues, "but you still called me Robin."

Dick slides his window open and contorts his way in, his back groaning about it. He puts Jason on the couch. The kid clings to him initially before letting go, slumping back even with Dick's hand cradling his head still. He blinks dazedly up at Dick, frowing and grimacing.

"You didn't mess up," Dick murmurs as he kneels to his level. It makes his shoulder ache from the angle of keeping the soaked gauze in place, but Jason sort of follows the incline so that helps. "You didn't mess up tonight. You didn't mess up about this. I did. I shouldn't have taken my anger at Bruce out on you. That wasn't fair."

"I took Robin from you."

Dick exhales slowly. "You didn't know. Bruce didn't have the right to tell you or let you be Robin, but that's on him. Not you."

Jason blinks slowly, in the dim streetlamp. Dick sees a glimmer of tears. Whether that's from pain or something else, he doesn't know, and chooses not to know to give Jason some privacy.

"Let's get you patched up."

"Are you gonna send me home?"

He should. He absolutely one-hundred percent should send him home, solely because of the injury. But, they still have two days of his three day weekend to get through. If the head injury isn't as bad as he's expecting, there's still a ton of civilian brotherly stuff they can do.

Dick leans Jason forward so he's not resting his head on the back of the couch and takes his hand away. The gauze sticks to his palm, drenched with blood, but the very edges are still white. Good sign.

"Nah. There's still a crap ton of things in Blud I want to show you. Can't do that if you're all the way in Gotham."

The smile Jason gives him is brilliant and bright, chasing away the paleness of pain. Dick can't help but smile back, charmed without meaning to be.

Now that's a grade-A Robin smile right there.

[abisalli]

Jason but he wears this helmet 😼

[itsdabatt]

happy national impersonate your favorite vigilante day to those who celebrate

Part 2

[batsandbirdsandothers]

Inspired by Citrusy sweetness (sunlitlemonade)

- Or little Jason can't peel oranges properly, good thing he has a big brother for that.

[jbharts]

It's called fashion, Bruce

another repost from my Instagram in 2021

[ambrosethedarling]

Found this collecting dust in my drafts so here ya go

[milesofstars]

dont worry about it jason...

[ashrayus]

more of them lets goo!!!!

[god-help-me-pls]

u guys don’t understand how much how small jason was as robin means to me,,, he was tiny,,, his ass was NOT physically fit i tell u,,,

little guy really was little

[ditzybat]

tim showing duke around the cave for the first time: there’s jason’s memorial case, and - oh, here’s dicks old nightwing suit, we call it discowing cuz frankly it’s kinda —

duke: it’s beautiful.

tim: what.

duke: all those bright colors, i bet he pulled in this suit

tim: i mean, i guess he was dating starfire, but she’s not exactly a normal girl —

duke: im gonna have to take notes, maybe dick will help design my suit?

dick wrapping his arms around duke and leading him away to discuss suit ideas: i’m glad someone appreciates my artistic eye

jason: imma kms, there’s two now

[freefallintothevoid]

The real reason everyone makes fun of Dicks Discowing outfit is because he's the only one that can somehow pull it off

Every superhero and vigilante has has a costume like that at some point, something daring or a bit ridiculous that in hindsight that they just couldn't make work for whatever reason. Nightwing? The pretty motherfucker not only made it work, he slayed in that outfit. It looks ridiculous by itself on display in the batcave but not when Nightwing puts it on

The only reason Dick doesn't know this is because all his siblings have collectively gaslit him into thinking that it's his worst costume to date.

[wrencatte]

The best way for two people to bond is for one of them to have a concussion. This is a fact.

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

Jason groans, doesn't open his eyes to silently reply with one particular finger. Dick grins and huffs out a laugh. At least his personality is intact. The amusement fades quickly, though as Jason stays prone on the ground, his breaths slow and deliberate to keep nausea down. Blood soaks his hair and streaks across his forehead. He lost consciousness for half a minute, which is half a minute too long.

"C'mon," he grunts as he slides a hand under the base of Jason's skull, keeping it steady as he hauls the kid up. Jason makes an awful noise and keeps going, folding over to the side to retch. He lets out a soft sob, clumsily reaching for his head. Dick knocks his hand away. "Nope. Don't touch it."

[ashoss]

he has that sadness in his eyes that you only see in eastern european gay porn

[giotanner]

Nightwing and Tim Drake, Discowing and the loss of Jason Todd (link to the entire tiktok here)

Ko-fi

[dieubius]

in my perfect world this is how it happened