Ironsons@7933

Bruce putting on the "brucie" act to make his kids laugh. ESPECIALLY if theyre in the batcave and bruce is in the batsuit. Sure fire way to leave dick on the ground, cackling.

Jason: He died due to a gunshot Dick: *serious and grave* Wow. How horrible. What do you think the last thing through his mind was? Bruce: *completely ditsy* ✨a bullet!✨ Jason+Dick: *lose it* Gordon: *deep puff of cotton candy vape* ~ Superman: *discussing a new alien race* For decades, they have been able to work together- Bruce: *cheerily and not the vibes* but everything changed the day the fire nation attacked Nightwing: *so serious and trying to prove himself to the League that he's anxious* Nightwing: *suddenly wheezing and relaxed* ~ Tim: You don't understand, B! I'm a failure! I wasn't meant to be born! I'm not worthy of Robin... Bruce:... Bruce: This is so sad, alexa play 'Despacito' Tim: *smiling in spite of himself* You fucking dork

“Step aside, Silver One.”

HIM IMMEDIATELY GIVING HER A NICKNAME <333

“I know exactly who and what you are, Violet Sorrengail.”

HE KNOWS HES CHOOSING HER <33

Violet: “I’m sorry. I just didn’t think I’d make it this far.”

Tairn: “I didn’t think I would, either, so we have that in common.”

UGH THEY BOTH HAVE BEEN THROUGH SO MUCH

“You will not fall. I will not allow it.”

HIM VOWING TO PROTECT HER FROM THE VERY START, PUTTING HIS RIDER FIRST BEFORE ANY RULES OR JUDGEMENT.

“You are the smartest of your year. The most cunning.”

YES GLAZE HER SHE DESERVES IT

“You’ll never be alone again.”

the Batkid that started off as Robin ends with a different name

Maybe Jason didn't die. Doesn't matter. He still outgrows Robin and instead of becoming Red Hood becomes Red Bird or smth

Maybe Tim doesn't get pulled out of Robin by his dad. Doesn't matter. He still grows out of it and becomes Red Robin instead.

Maybe Dick and Bruce have a good relationship when he turns eighteen. Doesn't matter, Dick still becomes Nightwing.

Robin means moving on, it means growing wings and flying. Robin is the nest, Robin is childhood, Robin is Bruce and once they are adults and once they find their footing, once Robin teaches them to fly- they do.

Cardinal (Timbit)

Rook (Timbit)

Redbird (Timbit)

Bluejay (Jase)

ik some people like to make Jason a league general and give him his own shadows and i just think it would be so funny if your red hood had both goons and shadows doing his bidding in gotham

especially in your one post where just hearing ra’s voice over facetime was enough to silence the cave.

could you imagine bruce finding out his son has a bunch of league operatives?

i think in one of my fics i mentioned him being the 'league general' which i find so funny. like the idea of jason having a really high up placement in the league hierarchy really pleases me. he's literally ra's oldest grandchild now, and he's fucking powerful as fuck, there's no way ra's wouldn't end up promoting him to SOMETHING important, even if it's a very begrudging promotion because he fucking KNOWS jason's going to abuse that power.

i imagine jason as a league general being kind of like dazai osamu from bungo stray dogs? if anybody gets that? like he just fucks around 24/7 messing with damian or pissing ra's off and generally ACTING incompetent, but the second ra's starts yelling at jason to stop being useless two of his personal guards will walk in with a failed coup leader and it turns out jason's 'fucking around' has actually just been his own genius method of saving ra's and the entire league from an uprising and ra's just never noticed what was going on.

Batman and Robin finish dealing with a rogue and Bruce gets notified that the batmobile’s been compromised. Red Hood has already tried to blow up him and Robin multiple times this point, so without being sure who it is he’s already cautious. They get back to the car ready to fight only to find their city’s latest crime lord half-hanging out of the passenger window, legs flailing in the air, banging loudly about on the inside of the car with his fists.

“WHY THE FUCK ARE THERE NO CHERRY OPTIONS?! B I KNOW YOUR BITCH ASS KNOWS NEVER TO RUN OUT OF CHERRY.” He screams when he notices them standing around nearby.

Bruce is fucking flabbergasted. Tim’s the only one with the (albeit baffled) sense of mind to stick his hand up in the air like he’s at school before confusedly letting Hood know “…Uhm. I think- I think there’s some cherry flavour in the- in a box under the back seat…?”

Red Hood’s legs flail about slightly as he twists around into an even weirder angle to reach the back. A few more clanks and bangs later and he starts shuffling back out of the window, body language smug. Whe he’s out, he turns to reveal a handful of cherry flavour fruit snacks in his hands. He cocks a hip as he starts unwrapping them.

“So. How was Riddler tonight?”

Bruce makes an aborted movement towards him, suddenly panicked. “You can’t- don’t you dare eat those! Those are Jason’s!” He blurts unthinkingly, memories flashing in his mind of little Jason, the son he mourned, constantly hungry and stubborn about the types of snacks he’d eat. After he’d died and Bruce cleared out the car for the first time, he’d found one of Jason’s old stashes. He hadn’t been strong enough to get rid of them. Still kept a second secret stock of the second Robin’s favourite mid-patrol munchies on hand, as if his ghost would come back to complain about being forgotten. Seeing Red Hood desecrate his sacred offerings made his blood pressure spike, but it was nothing compared to the way he bluescreened when Hood didn’t react at all, instead continuing to unwrap the plastic and undoing the clasp of his helmet with one hand.

“Yeah, bitch-ass.” He sniped, taking off the helmet and shoving the snack in his mouth. “‘ason’s ‘uckin snacks. Mine.” He muffled around a mouthful of food.

Bruce goes very, very still. “What.”

Tim cocks his head. “…Did you really just identity-reveal yourself for a fruit snack?”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Replacement.”

*the batfamily is at a family dinner, laughing and having fun*

Bruce, suddenly, in the Batman voice: Damian.

*everyone snaps to attention, immediately on alert*

Damian: What is it, Father?

*Bruce stays silent, and everyone shifts nervously in their seats*

Duke: Bruce? Everything okay?

Jason: Come on, old man, spit it out.

Steph: Be nice! He probably forgot. You know he’s starting to struggle with his memory.

*Jason and Steph snicker*

Dick: What happened, B?

Tim, tapping away at something on his phone: I didn’t get any alerts for a disturbance anywhere.

Cass, signing: Dad?

*everyone stares in a slightly tense anticipation for a couple seconds more*

Bruce, giving his best Brucie smile: Will you pass the potatoes, Dami?

*everyone stares in shock, before booing and tossing stuff at Bruce, who laughs*

Dick: You scared the hell out of us, B.

Alfred, walking out of the kitchen: Wonderful joke, Master Bruce, though I do expect you to clean up all of this.

And it's not like they were wrong about her being solid! Olympic, her identical sister ship, survived being torpedoed and then running over the U-Boat that fired that torpedo. Those ships were solid.

Jason’s so overworked. he has to deal with his strained relationship with the bats; Bruce and him arguing every time they see each other, Damian knocking on his door every time there’s something about his new life that he doesn’t understand/wants to complain about, Tim sneaking into his fucking apartment to demand they ‘bond’ and Dick getting weepy and nostalgic everytime he even sees Jason’s face. On top of that, taking care of the alley, and running an entire organisation of subordinates, by the time he gets to a point in his life where he realises ‘fffffuck. thats a goddamn demon and i’m the most equipped person in the city to deal with it.’ he’s honestly so over the whole thing.

he’s so bitter that he has to do this, because not only is this new side-gig tiring but it’s also fucking insane. killing rapists and overseeing drug shipments never involved travelling into nephilim lairs and learning about ancient rituals that end with him crawling out of the sewers at 9am covered in blue goo that smells acidic; the closest would be back when he was Robin during the golden era when shit was just wacko, and by the gods he does not have any interest in returning to that kind of work-load, so why he’s HERE is anybody’s fucking guess.

eventually Dick, desperate to bond with the younger brother that he can feel slipping away again, starts tailing him to figure out why he’s never around- and instantly decides to join. Jason is honestly just relieved there’s somebody lightening the supernatural workload- Dick was also Robin during the golden era, he might not have Jason’s skills and amassed knowledge but he’s not as useless as the others.

Jon: wait wh-

JASON TODD (aka; raised damian in the league) WEARING A SHIRT WITH DAMIANS FACE ON IT THAT SAYS "HAVE YOU SEEN MY BABY" WITH A STUPID FOAM FINGER: ...motherfucker..

DICK GRAYSON (aka; raised and basically adopted damian when batman died) BLACKMAILING TALIA ALGHUL FOR DAMIANS BABY PHOTOS SO HE COULD PUT THEM IN HIS WALLET: ...excuse me what.

TIM DRAKE (aka; pushed scarecrow off a roof and nearly killed him because he put damian under fear gas) ACTIVELY FILLING UP ALL THE "COFFEE JARS" WITH CHOCOLATE POWDER SO DAMIAN FEELS GROWN UP LIKE TIM BUT DOESNT HAVE TO DRINK TIMS NASTY STASH: baby demon what the actual fuck-

Jason, barely muffling his snickers: Guys, surprise on the west snack table.

Dick, instantly laughing and startling half the socialites he was talking to: Oh, sorry, sorry (coughs) what were you saying, Mrs?

Damian, quiet as he's next to Bruce who's talking to a group of people: Incompetent as always, I see, Drake.

Tim, who just bumped into the snack table and almost knocked the whole thing over, currently balancing like 4 snack plates on his body: I hate you ALL.

Dick: Tim, on your 6.

Tim, whirling around to see the old woman who constantly pinches his cheeks (he hates it): Oh god. Thanks, Dick.

Dick: No problem.

Damian: Thomas, Grayson is currently occupied but has advised us to move to the south of the room.

Duke, already moving: Got it, why?

Damian: He said something about 'racist assholes' entering the vicinity. I am not about to argue with him.

Duke: He knows we can defend ourselves, right?

Damian: Of course. His response is 'but you shouldn't have to'.

Duke, snorting: Fair enough. Okay yeah I see Jason beelining for the doors. This'll be interesting.

Damian: Naturally.

Cass: Reporters are here.

Jason, groaning: The annoying ones?

Tim: They're all annoying.

Jason: Yeah, but these ones have some kind of thing for me, for some reason, like they haven't heard my coming-back-from-the-dead story like dozens of times.

Dick: The Gotham Gazette?

Jason: Nah, Vicki Vale is a whole other can of worms. It's some other paper.

Dick: Huh. 'Kay, I'll keep an eye.

Jason: Thanks. If anyone asks I'm not here.

Tim: You owe me a home made lasagne for this.

Jason: Sure. Maybe I'll poison it.

Tim: Ohhh, Russian roulette. I like it.

Jason: Ha-ha.

Jason, seeing Tim talking to an important business man: Hey Timbo

Tim, tilting his head a little to indicate he's listening:

Jason: The guy you're talking to knocked over a pitcher earlier and paid everyone who saw it to not say anything and disappeared to go change, did ya know?

Tim, visibly trying not to laugh:

Jason: He walked around for like 10 minutes with a wet suit and almost no one noticed.

Tim, muttering: Stop.

Bruce, who has been tracking criminals at the batcomputer for hours, stares at Dick. "What?"

Dick, only about twelve years old, is looking up at Bruce with ominous sincerity. He makes grabby hands. "Give me. Your Batman brain. Give it."

Bruce raises a brow, but figures this must be a strange thing children do. Perhaps Dick has brain damage from training, who knows. He hesitantly mimes grabbing his brain from the top of his head and putting it in Dick's hand. Dick sets the pretend-brain off to the side, placing a pretend-glass case over it for later.

Dick seems satisfied. "Okay. I threw a block of legos at my classmate Tarence. He was giving our teacher a panic attack and had to be dealt with."

Bruce raises a brow and opens his mouth to speak, but Dick cuts him off. "Wait wait wait, your Batman brain is over there. Now you only have Dad brain. Gimme Dad."

Bruce, unfortunately, cannot argue with that logic, so he pats Dick's head and asks for a step-by-step reenactment of the event so he knows how to best defend his son at the meeting with the principal.

Jason: *watching Tim pace for three straight hours* Give me your Tim Brain.

Tim: *pauses* What?

Jason: *grabby hands.* Tim. Brain. Now.

Tim: *mimes getting his brain out and hands it to Jason*

Jason: *flings it out the window and claps* Alrighty then!

Tim: *flabbergasted* You can't-

Jason: Ope, no! You don't have a brain. Can't argue.

Tim: *muttering threats*

-----

Or better yet with friends;

Roy: *sobbing* She won't stop crying!

Dick: *takes his niece* Lian!

Lian: *blinks at Uncle Dick*

Dick: What do we do when we have big emotions?

Lian: *blinks and mimes taking her brain and holding it out to Jason*

I used to go to this small drama camp as a kid that was entirely run by one nice lady, I believe named Carol. We would put on abridged minimalist versions of popular musicals at a local church with only one week of rehearsal. These weren’t licensable junior versions. Carol created them herself.

She wrote the scripts to include the major plot highlights and famous lines from the various musicals and she arranged and accompanied all of the songs on the piano herself. We did Annie, Mary Poppins, the Wizard of Oz, and, the year before I came, Peter Pan. These shows were definitely illegal, but they were so small that nobody really noticed, and they were a ton of fun. The camp was also extremely affordable, so nobody was getting rich off of it.

But Cinderella, my final production with them, was next-level. When I arrived for the first day of camp, I was curious to see if it would be the Disney version or the Rodgers and Hammerstein version.

It was both. And neither.

Carol somehow wrote an almost entirely original book for Cinderella that used the best songs from both the Disney and R&H versions. That meant that I, as a stepsister, got to sing the “Stepsisters’ Lament,” a peak song if you ask me, but adorable little kids playing mice also got to sing “Cinderelly, Cinderelly.”

The one thing about combining both versions is perhaps an overemphasis on the Fairy Godmother, because the songs “Bibbidy Bobbity Boo” and “Impossible” are both no-brainers to include. But somehow, things worked out perfectly there, too, by splitting the role.

See, we didn’t just have a Fairy Godmother.

We also had a Fairy Godfather.