every individual blink feels heavier, each one of bruce’s footsteps sending a new jolt of pain into the base of dick’s skull. he can feel the vibrations of distant cars, there’s a metallic taste in his mouth.

don’t try to get up. well, he wasn’t going to try.

he’s no stranger to head injuries, but that doesn’t mean they’ve become any less of an absolute bitch to deal with. he would’ve called someone else, though. kori, gar, rachel even. she’d have chartered an entire fleet of ubers by now, had him tucked away in a hospital bed, costume neatly folded and tucked away in her backpack.

but he didn’t.

he blinks away the thought, vision still spotty as a different face comes into focus. he can practically hear the frown in bruce’s voice as he rolls onto his side, clumsily shifting an arm beneath his torso as he pushes himself to his feet. all the energy was sapped from his body the moment his head hit the pavement. once he’s turned around, on his hands and knees as he struggles to shift his weight to his feet, he catches a glimpse of the small red stain on the concrete.

no fingers lift to probe at the back of his head, he knows his hair is slick with blood, but there isn’t much of it, so he pushes on — takes to his feet with a wobble.

“ wasn’t planning on staying there all night. ”

coal - ed eyes watch silent from underneath a mouth - less mask,  blank and blink - less as the bird flutters to its feet.     pointless,  vintage engine idle.     and yet   :   cold hands hover,  twitching movement,  rem sleep stop - stutter,  and still,  just as pointless.     action or inaction,  it's always been damned in this robin's eyes.     the last throes of a fallen angel,  false god.     no bat's boy's wonder left to spare,  so jealous it created another for prayer and called it good.     bruce sometimes finds himself perched atop a church's steeple like a lonely gargoyle,  stone demon,  daring him to cross the threshold.     to kneel for confession and offer up his soul, or if the hollowed ground would simply swallow it whole on the first step.     spit it back out. why even try ?

that's the thing about hiding in the shadows : cowardice blends right into everything else. even courage. heroism.

robin stands to his feet un - aided, and the batman watches. gothamn's knight in shining armor. and its loyal sidekick : insistent on doing the exact opposite of everything it says. “   robin,   ” it says, scraped out like metal over concrete. he doesn't know what else to say. this well known buzz beneath, twitching, stop - stutter, caught somewhere just under the eyelids, the skin, the teeth. they bite down as if something sharp might slip out without permission. spit more cherry red on the black of robin's domino. there's already enough. batman's done enough, to robin.

bruce itches to remove his mask, suddenly. how long had it been since they breathed in the same air without them ? had they ever ? report, sits on the tip of his tongue. instead, he swallows it, and takes a single step closer. “   that's not what i meant.   ” it comes out quiet, blank, blink - less, and yet : it tastes warm in his mouth. warm and fragile, spring - time ice, a careful redistribution of weight. “   what happened ?   ”

Jason and Jason’s rivalry

normal batman animation

first day of my weekend spent catching up on sleep cause i am still severely sleep deprived and it's making my concussion symptoms flare up again lol BUT. as soon as i wake up after my nap i am pouncing on my drafts like an animal >:)

sigh. cue extreme cat emergency. i doubt i'll catch up on any sleep tonight, and i might have to take him in the morning for an emergency depo shot, so my entire weekend might be a bust... but being here can also help w coping so i guess we'll see 🧍‍♂️

the threat seemed rather empty with him all tied up. the clown's smile went nowhere, but his head did crane the tiniest bit to one side. "Now, now, Jason. I don't think you'll be breaking anything anytime soon in your um..." he cleared his throat. "Predicament." hehehe. HAHA! he rocked forward in the chair he'd dragged over to sit only a foot or two in front of the other. "OOP!"

joker scrambled to catch the plate that nearly slipped right out of his hands. "Stop making me laugh, I nearly dropped your present." a sandwich. he offered it out towards jason, mismatched eyes flickering down knowingly at the vigilante's bound arms. even if he untied them, he questioned how well he could use them. were fingers usually that shade of purple? "Take it," he encouraged regardless. "It's PB&J. I made it myself." with the opposite hand, he grabbed up under his chair and dragged himself that much closer to jason.

"What's wrong? You don't like grape?" the plate was brought back towards himself, and the clown looked down at the sandwich with pinched eyebrows. "To be fair, I prefer strawberry too. But beggars can't be choosers."

if jason clenches his teeth any tighter, they're going to snap off in his mouth. like a recurring dream, a nightmare, each pearly white rolled around on the tongue, chewed, swallowed, spat out. being presented a peanut butter and jelly sandwhich from the joker is nightmare fuel if everything else about this wasn't already. if— when. when batman gets him out of here, he's never getting another good night's sleep in his life again.

or, he'll sleep better than he ever has. hell, if he could sleep in this sorry excuse for a fuckin' chair with his hands tied tight enough to fall off, he could sleep fuckin' anywhere. he'd kill to know what day it is. joker, preferably.

the sandwich smells good, is the thing. like pre - sliced, pre - packaged whole wheat, processed to hell and back peanuts and canola oil, grape - flavored gelatin mass ; it might as well be gourmet served on a silver platter. he doesn't think about alfred packing his school lunches with them, the nasty, all - natural stuff and strawberry jam— he doesn't. instead, he clenches his teeth tighter, bites down on nothing while his stomach pangs until something ticks in his mouth. it hurts a harmony to the rest of his body, nothing new, but a part of him wishes for the joker that hurts him for fun instead of the one that feeds him. like some stray. if he's going to survive this, though, he knows he can't look a gift horse in the mouth. gift sandwich. beggars can't be choosers. except, what comes out of his mouth is : “   where do psycho clowns get their groceries, anyway ?   ”

jason poses with guns like men do with fish

based on this

YOU DREW IT!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍🐟🐟🐟🔫🔫

feeling torn re: my bruce portrayal cause on one hand there is the batman that i love as an active critique of brutality and vigilantism thin blue line rhetoric repackaged in a bat costume and a man who learned better kind of narrative over time but then on the other hand there is batman unburied bruce who would not fucking say any of that <3

fuck it unburied based bruce :) unburied and 2022 + arkham influences, because i can complain about the politics of thee batman ooc all day, baby! however, the bruce in my other muses backstories will remain separate from my bruce and truer to the vague reputation most other media + comics portray him with. there is some overlap, but i'd like to make the distinction because there will be differences. this is of course subject to plotting with other canon muse mutuals!