#onipilot

Say hello to our awesome merch artist @onipilot! They will also be sharing their art in both volumes of the zine.

I geeked out when i noticed you’re following me–thank you so much and i hope you like this! :D

(no i’m not still flailing what are you talking about)

The door to Jason’s room is slammed open and he jerks up into a sitting position, the knife he keeps under his pillow in his hand before he’s even got his eyes open, and there’s a yell of, “Oh my God, where did he get a knife?!”

..the vine? Seriously?

A camera shutter clicks, and Jason’s vision clears and focuses when he hears a dejected, “Damn it, it’s a good picture.”

He blinks at Dick, Steph, and Duke, who are all crowded around a camera in Dick’s hand by the door, extremely confused.

Slowly, Jason lowers the knife.

There’s the sneaking suspicion that Steph was the one who quoted the vine, but Jason doesn’t address that and instead frowns.

“I was sleeping.”

“Yeah,” Dick answers with a pout. “That’s the point. We were trying to get a bad picture of you.”

Confusion +30 points.

“What?”

Stephanie waves a hand at Jason, shoulders sagging as she walks to the door.

“Just shut up, Jay,” she whines before exiting sullenly.

“What?”

“We’ve all got bad pictures,” Duke explains, “that one of us has taken of the other. Except you.”

“Nobody has a bad picture of you,” Dick continues, sadly.

Jason’s face becomes so deadpan he’s sure even a dead person’s pan has more emotion than his face does.

“This is exactly why I never sleep here,” he declares before throwing the knife at Dick and flopping back onto the bed. “Let me sleep or next time that knife will cut you.”

It's been a long time coming, in Dick's opinion. Jason's been in his life for a while. Dick cares about him. All he needs is a nickname--one unique to Jason that can be his and soley his.

He's watching Jason do a handstand, wobbly being a nice way to put his form, as he thinks about it.

Well Jason's his little brother, so little is going to have to be somewhere in the nickname. Absolutely.

Jason glances at him and falls over with a yelp, legs flailing as he goes down.

Dick does his best not to laugh as he tries to think of the rest of the nickname.

Later they're on patrol, Dick and Jason in Blüdhaven, and Dick watches Robin fly beside him. Not as gracefully as he did when he was Robin, but little birds have little wings, especially if they haven't stretched them out.

Hm. Dick liked something in that thought.

Little bird? No, he's pretty sure Oliver calls Dinah 'Pretty Bird'. Too similar. Little Robin? Not that either--it reminds him too much of his mom's nickname for him, and it's still his.

Maybe Little Wing would work out.

It needed a test run, but Dick liked it.

About two weeks went by before Dick tried the nickname out.

"Jason, Little Wing, my little brother, my successor--what are you doing?"

Jason opens his mouth to reply but his hand misses the next bar and Jason falls to the net with an aborted yell, huffing as he glares up at the ceiling and equipment above him.

"I was tryna practice," he says, still glaring, "the tricks ya taught me."

"Ah."

Dick's a little disappointed by the lack in rea--

"What the fuck s'a 'Little Wing'?"

Aww, yeah.

Dick grins and looks down at Jason, poking his face over the side of the net to.

"It's you!"

Jason blinks.

"I don' get it."

Dick climbs into the net and lays beside Jason, staring up at the equipment that hangs from the ceiling like stars from the sky, and he explains.

"It's your nickname. Like I was Robin to my mom, you're Little Wing to me."

Jason goes silent in thought.

He speaks up about a minute later.

"Why Little Wing?"

"Because you're my little brother, and you've got little flying wings."

"I don' got wings."

"It's a metaphor."

They go quiet again for a little bit, and Dick considers a nap, when Jason says something again.

"...cool, I guess." He looks up at his brother, squints, and adds, "Big Wing."

YEAH, IT IS, AND THANK YOU SO MUCHHHHHH YOU GUYS I'M