Saw This Comment On A Post About Superman. Felt The Need To Share The Pain.

Concept: an episode of the Justice League cartoon where the MCs get sucked into a 90s teen movie… powers get reset to when they were that age.

This is just a mini info dump from an Arab batfamily fan because I find Damian calling his siblings Akhi... adorable (for me as a native speaker watching a writer use Arab words) and, not painful, just... itchy, it URGES me to make a pptx with 300 slides and just? Talk about Arabic?

So... أخي, Akhi, Brother.

It's not incorrect. The word is used in the right place and delivers its intended meaning. Other Arab speakers might not find a problem with it. They'd feel odd like I did but will likely go "eh" and carry on. But I'm an Arabic enthusiast, so...

Like with every language with geographically widespread users, the Arabic tongue kind of- deviated from its roots. The language has naturally branched out into so many dialects I myself can't keep track of.

Arabs from different regions can understand each other. They use the same words but for different purposes and with different pronunciations.

The original root language that holds them all (Quranic Arabic) was simplified into an easier, standard version that is used for formal speeches and as a communication bridge (seeing that you can't, say, translate something to Arabic and say it's for all Arabs if you use a certain dialect. Because an Arabic dialect is an identity at this point, tell me somebody is Syrian, and I know them already)

Now, with the fun part.

See, no Arab calls any sibling of theirs Akhi, I myself would burst laughing if mine did.

Yakhoi يَخوي (nonstandard, everyday Arabic for o, brother) , maybe, if I'm calling a stranger from the streets or an offender I'm going to give a piece of my mind.

Or, hold your breaths, my brother is crying, and the lights are out and I NEED to use the tenderest, most loving, most adoring, most revering tone I could muster so he just knows he is loved and family. Y'know? This specific situation.

And other Arabs might just say, no, I use it when, I use it when, I don't use it, etc.

The point is, nobody will mention Akhi. Because it's a Standard Arabic word, a formal word, and a word used in translated texts and stories when a foreign character we don't consider part of us call their brother. It's weird, it's devoid of emotions, and it's like watching a robot trying to be emotional, but it's a translated text. That's what translated texts use, and it's fine.

It is fine, Standard Arabic has been used for stories so much that nobody questions its influence on a character's characterisation.

I'm not saying Standard Arabic shouldn't be used for story writing, quite the opposite, in fact. I'm just saying that if Arabic is used to represent an Arab, its usage should also consider an everyday Arab experience and manners.

Now to Damian.

Akhi is robotic. Damian's personality does allow him to fall under that category. If for his well refined manners and polite, formal speech.

But even the King wouldn't call his brother Akhi.

He'd call him by his name. For my community (and most, I'm sure) siblings are called by their names, and if we look up historic Quranic (Root) Arabic speakers, they, too, call their siblings by their name. Yes, even the Sultan.

If not by actual name, then either endearing or demeaning names.

Arabs LOVE endearing names, but they're dipped in a pool of honey I don't think Damian would like to dive in.

Talia, on the other hand, would most certainly call Damian Mama. Arab parents call their kids by their own titles. It's the ultimate expression of parental love of all times, in my opinion.

(Don't make Batman call him Papa, though. Pretty sure Damian would malfunction)

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Well, I said all that, but watching writers include Arabic words in his vocabulary is still sweet. Tt is not even a word, but it's such an Arab thing it's my favourite.

If only I could make subtitles of everyday Arab talk and show you, their speech is heavy with, excuse my English, word softeners, it's like they're talking in a TV drama and not the real world.

Watching Damian adopting it would be interesting :D

Bruce saves people because a long time ago on the worst night of his life, no one was there to save him. Cassandra stops killers because a long time ago on the worst night of her life, no one was there to stop her.

The heart pirates (Law’s crew) are not doctors?? Wdym “should we give a pill or a shot or something”?? Am I the only one that thought they were all medical professionals? Are they literally just regular people? Picking a fight with some of the most dangerous people in the sea for shits and gigs?

Nightwing aerial silk routine to this song. Might add a part 2

Please comment even if its criticism. I need the motivation

a comic about wine, a wager, and reconnecting through your weird kids

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this behemoth of a comic is finally done - and just in time for zoros birthday huehue. initially i wanted to make a zolu introspective from an outsider POV and was like you know who would have really funny input on this … mihawk. and then it spiraled into seven pages of mishanks sitting and talking. i thought it would be funny if mishanks ended up doing self imposed couples therapy the day mihawk brought luffys bounty bc well. its kind of hilarious to think abt mihawk realizing shanks was onto something all those years ago after he meets zoro and luffy. like sure this new generation is batshit crazy but my god are they cooking. anyways. cheers. get some kids

Vague spoilers for one piece ep 1087

We’ve seen Koby twice in the last several hundred episodes. First at Reverie when he’s asked whether he likes Luffy and he stutters like an idiot. Second when he’s the only person completely unaffected by Boa Hancock’s powers.

I know what you are Koby 🤨

Bruce and Tim’s autistic asses have never made eye contact with each other in their lives

Like an interviewer comments lightly on his habit of adopting kids with black hair and blue eyes and he says, absent-mindedly, “Tim doesn’t have blue eyes,” to which the interviewer answers, with great confusion, that he most certainly does, and Bruce suddenly realizes he has never once looked at Tim’s eyes without the domino on and had just sort of assumed they were brown, statistically

I think a lot about Jason missing his adolescence and the dismorphia he must feel waking up in a body twice his size all of a sudden.

But recently I've been thinking about the loss Bruce and Dick must feel for missing that portion of his life that they were likely looking forward to. To need to look up at their baby boy/brother all of a sudden when your last memory of him you could carry him on your hip. This man has a whole personality, memories, experiences they don't know about when just yesterday they knew everything about him.

The idea of Jason not having any scars after the Lazarus pit is also angst central usually. Jason shows up and says "I'm not the kid you knew". They look over him and the small burn on his wrist from when him and Dick tried to cook? Gone. The scar on his back from falling in training that led to him and Bruce taking a PT break together? Nowhere to be seen.

When they work together they slot into his right out of habit since he's had more of an opening there since he broke his arm but... That injury doesn't exist anymore so he moves out of that position. And they're left with that small reminder that he's grown now. He's still Jason but they don't know him like they used to anymore.

Duke and Jason Being Hood Kids - Part 10

Dick is dreaming. He has to be dreaming. The scene in front of him is a nightmare, but the operative verb is ‘dreaming’ and oh my fucking God.

“My brother, Roy?” He knows he’s shrieking at octaves that probably trigger dogs, but he can’t help it. “My baby brother!”

Jason throws a t-shirt at him. A shirt that he should be wearing, because who gave him permission to be half naked with anyone, much less with Roy Harper?

“You don’t know how to knock?” The younger man’s pissed, but Dick’s so far beyond caring. “Ring a doorbell? Send a text? Jesus, Dick, what if I’d been—“

“Naked?” Dick is pulling at his hair and gesturing wildly, completely ignoring the bleeding wound on his arm that led him to break into his brother’s apartment in the first place. “Or—don’t you fucking move, Roy!”

The disheveled redhead freezes. His hair’s a mess, he’s got a bruise—oh God, a hickey—blooming on his neck, and he’s holding his unzipped pants up with one hand while reaching for the front door with the other.

In retrospect, Dick absolutely could’ve knocked. Or rung the doorbell. Or texted, even. Hell, a quick ‘bullet grazed my arm on patrol, need a stitch or two and a bandaid’ wouldn’t have hurt. In fact, it likely would’ve saved him from tumbling through Jason’s living room window to find his brother pinned to the wall, held up by his thighs with legs wrapped around Roy’s waist, one hand buried in red hair and the other dipping into the other man’s—

Oh my God, Jason’s having sex. The thought rings in his head like a church bell on Sunday morning. My little brother’s been deflowered.

“How long has this been going on?” Dick’s switched to his Nightwing’s Asking The Fucking Questions Now, Asshole voice. “Who—“

Roy steps between Jason and Dick. “Dickie, that’s not—“

“How long have you been defiling my baby brother?”

“Defiling? Jesus, we’re consenting adults!”

“And we’ve been dating for over a year,” Jason interjects. “No defiling…Well, there’s been defiling, but it’s been mutual.”

Dick feels his soul leave his body momentarily. It comes back, but it’s forever scarred by this knowledge now.

“Did anyone else…” His voice is hoarse from all the shrieking. He’s barely holding it together and wants to do some more screaming very soon. “Who knows?”

Jason sighs in exasperation and grabs the shirt he threw Dick’s way. He puts it on and grabs the first aid kit by the coffee table before pushing his older brother onto the couch.

“Duke,” he answers. He pops the kit open and retrieves a set of gloves to check the wound on Dick’s arm. “He’s the only one I told. Tim knows I’m dating someone, but he doesn’t know who. Pretty sure Bruce knows via osmosis or some shit, because he’s Bruce.”

Dick’s not sure if it’s blood loss or shock, or maybe a combination of both, but he’s suddenly reeling and lightheaded.

“Duke?” Jason’s cleaned the wound already. He’s threading a needle for stitches now. “You told Duke? Why not me? Why didn’t Duke tell me?”

Roy, who’s keeping a safe distance from the brothers across the room, snorts incredulously. “Gee, I wonder why. Couldn’t be because you might overreact.”

Dick glares at his friend—possibly murder victim by the end of the night, but he hasn’t decided yet—while Jason completes the first stitch. “I just walked in on you trying to—“

“Engage in perfectly consensual adult activities?” Jason tugs at the thread with more force than is necessary and is satisfied when Dick winces in pain. “In the privacy of my own home? I’m 22, asshole. I can’t get dicked down in peace?”

Soul leaving body again. Might not come back this time.

Jason finishes a third stitch and nods, satisfied that the wound is closed. “And Duke knows that snitches get stitches. He wouldn’t blab without good reason.”

“True that.”

Dick almost jumps out of his skin when Duke, who absolutely wasn’t here a second ago, joins the conversation.

“Chill out, Big Bird,” the teen laughs as he tosses a backpack onto the couch. “Roy texted. Apparently you saw something you weren’t supposed to see and need a ride home. Civvies in the bag, change and we’ll go.”

Dick feels like he’s losing his mind. “You knew! You never said anything!”

Duke shrugs. “First rule of surviving in Gotham, my dude—snitches get stitches. Not my business, not my news. But also, fuck I look like outing people?”

Jason fist-bumps their younger brother and smirks. This is unacceptable. A travesty. A hate crime. Not actually a crime, but it feels like one and Dick hates it.