Writing and Things I Like

*foil cracking, chewing noises*

Jason: -no, because B didn't take me in specifically because he wanted me to be Robin. that came after. pass me the sauce, Day. thanks.

Tim: i thought you met him when he was Batman though?

Jason: yeah i met him when he was Batman, but he didn't take me home because he wanted a new Robin, he took me in because i was homeless, i stole his tires, called him a fucktart to his face, and then kneecapped him with a tire-iron.

Dick, observationally: i'm pretty sure he took you in as some sort of version of self harm.

Tim: *snort*

Jason, muffled: mm- 'okes on him though, cause i turned out to be a complete introvert.

Dick: yeah i don't think he expected the violent street kid to love homework so much.

Damian: so how did the transition to being Robin happen? he allowed Grayson to join him to get closure after his parents' death, correct? what led him to allow you to take up the mantle?

*slurping through a straw*

Jason: well, i think his intentions were good when he first decided to take me in, because i asked if i'd be the next Robin and he told me i wasn't being adopted just so he could have a partner, and Robin was out of the question. i was just happy to live in a mansion, so i let it be.

Dick: you let it be? he told me you basically forced him to let you have the mask.

Jason: *laughs* well he would, wouldn't he? he's too embarrassed about how petty he was being.

Tim: what was petty about it?

Jason: *snort* ok, but Dick you can't be an ass about it- it was like a decade ago.

Dick, with anticipatory annoyance: why-? *pause* oh shut up.

Jason: um, *slight snicker* yeah, so, admittedly he did just give me the mantle to slightly piss you off a bit,

Dick, instantly: I FUCKING KNEW IT- OH MY GOD.

*smacking sound, harsh footsteps*

Damian: oh, now he's pacing.

Dick: ALL THESE FUCKIN' YEARS OF 'IT WASN'T PERSONAL, DICK, IT HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH UPSETTING YOU, DICK, IT WAS JASON THAT WANTED IT, DICK-'

Jason: *wheezing* ok- OK but in his defence, i did also want it a lot-!

Dick: YOU SAID YOU'D LET IT GO!

Jason: w- yeah, i did, and then i met you.

*silence*

Dick, abruptly quiet: i was not that bad.

Jason, indignant: YOU- YOU-

Tim, absently: it's like dinner and a show,

Damian: i know right?

Jason: -YOU MET ME FOR THE FIRST TIME, LOOKED ME UP AND DOWN LIKE I WAS ONE OF THE FUCKING PEDOPHILES ON TO CATCH A PREDATOR,

Dick: I WAS NOT- *breaks into a wheeze*

Jason: -PROCEEDED TO TELL BRUCE WITHOUT EVEN ACKNOWLEDGING ME, 'at least when you took me in the people of Gotham could understand it, i was adorable; what the fuck is this thing?'

Dick: *silent wheezing*

Tim: fuck off, were you actually that mean?

Dick: *gasping* i-

Jason: YES HE WAS. anybody in my position would have met that little prick and instantly decided to steal his old job, i refuse to take criticism on the matter!

Damian: and Father went along with that?

Jason: mm- not at first. but then he and B got into an argument where Dick stole Bruce's work laptop because 'he wasn't using it, so it was up for grabs' and i think B just wanted to get back at him by stealing something of his instead.

Dick: -completely unproportionate response, by the way.

Jason: no, but neither was seeing Bruce's calvin klein underwear modelling campaign and instantly creating the Discowing suit to 'show him what it felt like when your family member acts like an attention seeking whore', so you're both as bad as each other.

Tim: *aghast* IS THAT ACTUALLY WHY YOU DID THAT?!?

Dick: i- *breaks into wheezes again*

Damian: you know, considering everybody claims being Robin is so 'magical', the story of its origins and pathway through life sure is covered in a lot of spiteful bullshit.

Part 22

Damian's a mama's boy, but even he has his limits

Prev / Index

Jason: *over the sound of a motorcycle speeding* -swear to god, this bitch looks me dead in the eyes, and i'm thinking 'man i'm about to get clocked aren't i?'

Dick, indignant: Hood, you can't- *breathy laugh* you can't tell somebody to their face that their child looks like the 'do the roar' kid from Shrek!

Jason, still speeding: i can if it's true. anyway, she didn't clock me but she did tell me she was gonna report me to the HOA, so i was like, fuck man not this shit again,

Dick: *cackling*

Tim: they're like your version of the galactic empire, huh?

Jason: at this point, yeah. anyway i told her not to, and that we should just-

*tires screeching*

Jason: wHAT THE FUCK IS THAT- OHHOLYSHITFUCK-

*large crash* *burst of static* *silence*

Dick: ...Hood? fuck- HOOD?

Tim, casually: ope, there he goes.

Dick, panicking: FUCK. Hood, status? Hood!? shit, who's closest to Crime Alley?

Damian: uh- i am, i think, but i don't think Hood is hurt.

Dick: what? DID YOU NOT HEAR-?!?

Damian: i know; but Red isn't worried so obviously he's fine.

Dick: HOW THE FUCK WOULD HE KNOW, HE'S IN DIAMOND DISTRICT TONIGHT!?

Tim, absently: oh yeah Hood's fine, he probably just broke his com or something.

Damian: see? his sense would have gone off.

Dick: ...his 'sense'?

Damian: Red Robin has a special Hood-sense that tells him when Akhi is in danger.

Tim: hm- um, yeah. i got exposed to a magical artifact and now i'm connected to Hood mentally.

*a beat*

Dick: what.

Damian: Hood has text me. 'somebody shot a firework at my bike and it scared me, i broke my com in the crash, tell everyone i'm not dead'. ...i'm gonna go see if he needs help.

*disconnecting ping*

*silence*

Dick, muttering: 'a firework scared me' it's like working with a fucking border collie.

Tim: *snort* i mean at least he's alive?

Dick: yeah- ok, you do not have a fucking magical connection to Jason.

Tim, amused: yeah, nah i don't.

Dick: so what the fuck is he on about?

Tim, without missing a beat: oh we've synched our fitbits to compete in weekly step-counts, so if his heartbeat gets too elevated or stops completely i'd get an alert.

*a beat*

Dick: so why does Damian-?

On a sunny Thursday in June, a newly out Tim met with his brother, mentor, and hero, Dick Grayson, ready to tell him he was bi. Tim had been planning what to say for four days. Bruce was surprisingly easy to tell the truth to and gave Tim comfort, but with Dick he wasn't sure what might happen. He could accept him or turn on him. He'd seen it happen to others and he didn't want that.

Tim: Thanks for meeting with me today.

Dick (chuckling): Tim, you're in my apartment.

Tim: Yeah, but I broke in.

Dick: That window needed to be fixed anyway. Now, what was it that you wanted to tell me? Seems like you've been stressed about it.

Batman (reading an order rejection letter): "Dear Batman Co. While we appreciate your request we cannot legally send you a… 'buttload of organs regardless on how you plan on using them'."

Batman glared at Spoiler while she peeked over his arm to read the letter. She shook her head, bothered by a completely different part of it.

Spoiler: I didn't say "buttload"… I said "ass load." The one time I can use curse words, and they mucked it up. Bureaucrats, am I right?

Batman (reading an order rejection letter): "Dear Batman Co. While we appreciate your request we cannot legally send you a… 'buttload of organs regardless on how you plan on using them'."

Batman glared at Spoiler while she peeked over his arm to read the letter. She shook her head, bothered by a completely different part of it.

Spoiler: I didn't say "buttload"… I said "ass load." The one time I can use curse words, and they mucked it up. Bureaucrats, am I right?

Winter’s Chill - Part 3

This is part 2 of the winter dragon’s comic! See part 1 here!

Wheeew I am NOT drawing backgrounds again for a while! I hope you enjoy this ending more than the first one’s! :D

Part 21

Yippee!

Prev / Index

Dick: wait so- things i think you'd be good at?

Tim: all of us. like- i have a theory that Damian would be really good at making topiary animals. i don't know why, i just think he'd smash it.

Dick: oh i get it. i actually- yeah, i could see that with Damian. he's got the steady hands and the artistic talent. i have a- ok, so i have one,

Tim: go.

Dick: i've always had the strong belief that if we were to get Bruce into origami, he'd be a fuckin' paper fiend within a month.

Tim: *wheeze*

Dick: like- do you know what i mean? we'd go down to the Batcave and he'd be mindlessly churning out swans 'n octopus' n shit out of paper while trying to figure out a case.

Tim: *still snickering* i like that. i could see that. like some people knit while they watch TV?

Dick: yeah that's his version of that. i also- for you, i also feel like you would be good at ballroom dancing.

Tim, eager: oh i can actually answer that one,

Dick: yeah?

Tim: yup. *sing-song* answer's no,

Dick: *laughing*

Tim, amused: yeah- yeah my mom also had that belief when i was a kid, and she signed me up for lessons. and let me tell you? *matter of fact* used to get on my instructors last nerve~.

Dick: *gleeful* were you really that bad?

Tim: yeah, that man did not like teaching me. i just kept asking to go to the bathroom and then locking myself in for the entire lesson to look after my nintendogs.

*connecting ping*

Damian: Grayson, Father let me finish early; i'm on my way to you.

Dick: oh sick. hey, Dames, you got any headcanons about skills you think me or Tim would be good at if we tried?

Damian: headcanons? about you two?

Dick: yeah, you know... like, personal ideas or-

Damian: i know what a headcanon is. of course i don't.

Tim: aw, c'mon, not one?

Damian: i hate to break it to you, but you two aren't that interesting to think about. i rarely examine my opinions on anything to do with you unless it is directly relevant to my current life.

*a beat*

Dick: alright, ow, kinda offensive considering i invited you up to Bludhaven for the weekend?

Damian, dryly: yeah, cry about it. that will definitely make you more interesting.

Tim: what the fuck- ok fuck you, and fuck this. what about Jason, do we have any about Jason? i feel like he's the sort of person that would be really good at snowboarding but really shit at skiing.

Dick: oh, honestly? ok i do have one that i've been thinking for a while now actually,

Tim: *prompting hum*

Dick: i've always thought that Jason would be fucking incredible as a Dungeons and Dragons DM.

Tim, curious: ooooooh,

Dick: right? like- he's always been a good storyteller, and as meathead-y as he is he can kinda be a bit of a fantasy nerd. i've always thought that if i could convince him to try a campaign with me then it would be one of the greatest moments of my life.

Tim: fuck, no that's genius. i kinda want this now, do you think we could convince him?

Dick: i've been trying for years, he says he doesn't like DnD.

Damian, bored: he's lying, he plays Dungeons and Dragons all the time.

Dick: ...what?

Damian: yeah. he'd DM for me and some of his friends back in the league every now and then. i had no access to video games and Mother disapproved of other board games, so Jason would cover the DnD textbooks with mathematic book covers, and if anybody walked in on us playing we could just shut our notebooks and claim to be doing math exercises with some dice.

Dick, squeaking indignantly: he told me he had no idea how to play and couldn't be fucked to learn!

Damian, still bored: yeah he's lying because he thinks if any of you were to get involved with one of his campaigns you would be 'insufferable' to play with.

Tim: wait wait wait- so Damian, you grew up as a DnD nerd??!

Damian: why did you think i was so gullible about magic and supernatural stuff back then? my only reference for anything outside of league life was fantasy worlds and spells. when Jason first showed me the All Blades he told me it was because he'd 'acquired a new spell slot'. what reason did i have not to believe him?

Tim: oh my god it all makes so much sense now... oh my god,

Dick: wait. Damian...do you... do you still play with him?

*a beat*

Damian: occasionally.

Dick: HE'S BEEN FUCKING DMING FOR YOU AND CUTTING ME OUT?!?!

Tim: i am so fucking offended right now. who the fuck is he playing with? it can't be just you two,

Damian: no, Thomas also plays. and some of his old league friends.

Dick: are you fucking- he lets Duke play and not us?!?!

Damian: Thomas keeps trying to kill the important NPC's though, so getting through the campaign is slow going.

Dick: i am going to lose my mind-

Damian: Jason says it's a good activity for brothers.

Tim, offended: ok-

One of the quiet background realities of the Star Wars galaxy is that it is spectacularly bad at labor. Not just “late-stage capitalism” bad, but structurally, culturally, and institutionally allergic to the idea that workers should have enforceable protections. You’ve got child soldiers, child labor, debt slavery, corporate fiefdoms, and a Republic that can field a galaxy-spanning bureaucracy but somehow never gets around to standardizing “maybe don’t enslave people.” The Empire of course doesn’t fix this; it industrializes it.

So in that environment, formal labor law is either nonexistent, unenforced, or actively hostile. Which means if you’re operating in a sector where the state either can’t or won’t protect you, you get a classic historical pattern: workers build their own rules.

Enter the gray economies.

Groups like the Smugglers' Alliance (Legends) and the Bounty Hunters' Guild (new canon) look, at first glance, like professional associations for criminals. But if you squint at them through a labor history lens, they start to look a lot like early, proto-union structures — especially the kinds you see in maritime or extralegal industries on Earth.

Think pirate codes (yes actual ones, Pirates of the Caribbean didn't make that up). Think matelotage agreements. Think dockworker brotherhoods that predate formal unions.

Because what do these groups actually do?

They:

set norms for compensation and contracts

regulate competition to prevent destructive undercutting

provide a framework for dispute resolution

establish reputational systems (“you don’t honor contracts, you don’t get work”)

That’s industry self-governance in the absence of law.

Take bounty hunting. Without something like the Bounty Hunters' Guild, the field collapses into chaos: clients don’t pay; hunters underbid each other into oblivion; jobs get duplicated, interfered with, or sabotaged. And nobody trusts anybody!

The Guild steps in and says: here are the rules of engagement. Here’s how claims work. Here’s how you get paid. Here’s what happens if you break contract.

That’s basically a union crossed with a licensing board and a regulatory agency, just without any moral pretense.

Same with the Smugglers' Alliance. Smuggling is inherently risky, decentralized, and dependent on trust networks. If everyone is constantly betraying everyone else, the whole system stops functioning. So instead, you hash out agreed-upon routes and territories, informal protections against betrayal, mechanisms for information sharing, and consequences for breaking the code

Again: not altruism. Stability.

And the reason this emerges specifically in gray/illegal sectors is because they have to. The Core Worlds might pretend they have laws, but those laws don’t meaningfully protect the people actually doing dangerous, itinerant, high-risk work. So the margins of the galaxy — where enforcement is weakest and risk is highest — become the places where labor organization evolves first.

Which is very historically grounded.

On Earth, some of the earliest labor protections didn’t come from governments; they came from workers in dangerous, decentralized industries—sailors, pirates, miners—who literally wrote their own rules because no one else was going to save them.

Pirate codes, for example, often included:

compensation for injury

shared distribution of loot

limits on captain authority

Which is … shockingly progressive compared to a lot of contemporary working conditions (cough Amazon cough).

So in the galaxy far, far away, you end up with this ironic inversion:

The “legitimate” systems — Republic, Empire, megacorporations — are exploitative, inconsistent, or indifferent.

The “illegitimate” systems — smugglers, bounty hunters — are the ones building functional labor frameworks, because they need to survive.

And that feeds back into why the galaxy feels so unstable overall. There’s no universal baseline of rights. Everything is hyper-local, network-dependent, and contingent on whether you’re inside a system that has rules you can rely on.

If you’re a clone trooper? You are literally property.

If you’re a factory worker on a corporate world? Your protections are whatever your employer feels like offering.

But if you’re a smuggler or a bounty hunter?

You might actually have clearer expectations about your pay, your risks, and your recourse — because your “union” is the only thing standing between you and total chaos.

So yeah: the Smugglers’ Alliance and the Bounty Hunters’ Guild aren’t just flavor. They’re a glimpse of what labor organization looks like in a galaxy where the state has fundamentally failed to provide it.