Duke And Jason Being Hood Kids - Part 10

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.

More Posts from Lostpimplepatch and Others

2 months ago

If you see a younger sibling dying in one piece rest assured there’s an older sibling running to sacrifice themselves somewhere. You might have to wait like 10 episodes but trust the younger sibling never dies first.


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4 months ago

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.


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5 months ago

I wish I knew how to draw or make edits because I have this very specific edit of Damian Wayne to the song God Must Hate Me by Catie Turner

The lyrics go

Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" 'Cause He spent so much time on them and for me, He got lazy Got ample mental illness personality flaws While their only flaw seems to be is that they have none at all Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me" I'll let 'em take accountability For everything that's wrong with me Can't hold myself responsible So I blame the metaphysical If Jesus died for all our sins He left one behind, the body I'm in Same hands that made the moon and the stars Got carpal tunnel and forgot some parts

And creative liberty with the lyrics here but I imagine it being about how being 'good' comes so easily to the others and yet he struggles so much. Especially in the point after bruce's 'death' he's questioning if he has any place in the family as robin when batman is no longer his father.

It's in my head and it plays on repeat when I'm listening to the song and I wish I could extract it from my head.


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4 months ago
Help! How Do I Get The Back Of Nightwing’s Head To Look Like He’s Leaning His Head Forward? Anything

Help! How do I get the back of Nightwing’s head to look like he’s leaning his head forward? Anything I do just makes his head look smaller 😭😭

Wip for an edit I have in my mind to this song


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5 months ago

not to be "comment on fanfic even if they are oooold"

But I just read a pretty good fic published in 2014-2015 (you know, roughly TEN YEARS AGO) and I was like, damn this is so cool, I have to leave a comment, even if you know, they probably wont see it...

The author replied less than an hour later.


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5 months ago

*Breakfast table*

Tim, drinking his coffee: To be honest, I’m quite impressed, Jason. How did you manage to get Dick to rest? He has been onto this case for months now, and getting more and more grumpy.

Jason: Easy, I drugged him.

Tim: You drugged him?!

Jason: Yeh, I went down the cave with a cup of cocoa and be like “hey Dickie how’s work I made you cocoa” he thanked me without even looking at me, so I said “I want to watch you drink it.” Thankfully he’s still semi-sociable in hyperfocus mode, so he looked at me, raised an eyebrow, and downed it.

Tim: Well, I guess that’s efficient. *sips his coffee*

Jason: I’m Alfred’s honorary apprentice after all.

Jason: By the way, Timbo. How long have you been awake?

Tim, chuckles: 45 hours? Close to 50? I’m not entirely sure. What's the date today? …Anyway I’m just here to grab the coffee, now Dick’s resting, I’m gonna finish-

Jason: Don’t worry, I’m drugging you too.

Tim: You’re dru- *passes out*

Alfred, enters the kitchen: *high-fives Jason*


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5 months ago

I was rewatching Young Justice and the fact that all versions of Robin are the only one forced to keep their secret identity even with their teammates and friends is usually written off as Batman being paranoid. I think it's more than that, that it's his way of giving the kids an 'out'. If they ever decide they don't want to fight crime anyone they have a safe identity to return to, no obligations.

They are children first, soldiers second. Bruce knows better than anyone the loneliness his job brings and of course he would want better for anyone, especially his kids.


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3 months ago

Since we all agree that people of the Alley of Crime adore Red Hood and believe in him, I think it is time to imagine Jason in a scene similar to the one from OG Spiderman, where his identity is accidentally outted in front of crowd of people, and they all are just choose to protect him and help him out.

So maybe Gotham is facing especially nasty trouble, and vigilantes are on the receiving end this time. So maybe Jason is thrown at the dirty Alley in his part of town, wounded, with helmet flying off, and there is just a crowd of people staring as bleeds out, astonished. And Jason thinks, oh, that's the end — he can go and shoot himself, honestly, because he just failed the man rule every vigilante have: never show your face, never reveal your identity.

But people are... helping him? His eyes are half-open, breath laboured and pained, but all he hears is gentle murmuring:

'God, he is just a kid...'

'He must be younger than my son.'

'Poor child...'

He feels soft elderly hand against his cheek as someone from the crowd, an ex nurse, comes closer to bandage his injuries, while a kid, barely with the size of his helmet, brings it back, sticking out their tongue as they try to place it back on his head, to hide his face.

'It is okay,' the old woman reassures him. 'You are safe with us, son. We hadn't seen anything.'

Jason's eyes sting, because, oh.

It is his people. He loves them. He will die for them.

And they love him just as much.

He still waits for someone to out him, though. But the week ends, the villain is out of the picture, and no one says a thing. The only proof that it ever happened is civilians, who keep waving at Jason — not Red Hood, just Jason — when their paths cross somewhere in the shops or streets.

And that's how he knows that it is them; it is them, and they keep him safe as much as he keeps safe them.


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5 months ago

I love this because while we see Bruce hug his gf or kids quite a bit, that's always in a delicate way. To comfort them in an all encompassing soft hug.

This is clearly for himself. To ground himself with a bone crushingly tight hug that most people would find uncomfortable. To be enveloped in someone's embrace. To be held for once. To be able to fully stop supporting yourself and know you won't fall. To feel safe.

A Moment Of (weakness) Comfort

a moment of (weakness) comfort


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lostpimplepatch - Lost Pimple Patch
Lost Pimple Patch

Patch | She/Her | 22 | தமிழ் 🇮🇳🇺🇸 | I'm learning to draw so occasional fanart | Current Obsessions: One piece and Batfam

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