What kinda curse is Slang, anyway?

“This is the best day of my life.”

“Bro really thought he ate with that.” Bruce physically feels a full body shiver, charged with nausea and cringe. “This is level 10 cringe. Can’t have shit in Gotham.”

Dick is his earth bound angel, but he laughs like a demon at him, holding onto Jason for support, pledging his eternal loyalty to Zatana and her pettiness.

—

“Hey, old bat, hook me up with an adrenaline shot.”

What he wants to say is Jay, do not try and fight with 6 bullets in your stomach.

What comes out instead, through Bruce’s grit teeth and intense, fierce glaring, “Not you trying to go back to your corpse era. See how I only took 2 shots? Very demure. Very mindful.”

Jason passes out from blood loss, but mostly laughter.

—

“Chat, is this real?”

Stephanie barely bites back a full belly cackle. “I think he just asked us if we copied.”

“I wish I was Jason, 15.”

—

“This is not a slay environment. Killing is flop behavior.” He keeps his eyes shut and buries his face in his hands. Trying to convince Damian not to stab someone doesn’t seem to work.

Damian gives him a pat like he’s a pitiful cat. “I’ll only stab the non lethal areas.”

Dick, perched on Jason’s couch watching him gear up, sipping a Batburger shake: “so you’re NOT about to go deal with your emotions by going out on patrol and beating people up?”

Jason: *sets down the brass knuckles he was just holding* *stares off into the distance*

Jason, 6'4, built like a double fridge and holding a gun: Hey.

The Titans:

Years later.

Dick, to the Titans again: OK this is my even littler brother, everyone be super super nice to him!

Duke, 6'2, built like a linebacker and lit up like a glo stick: Yo.

The Titans:

Years after that.

Dick, again, to the Titans: OK this is my littlest baby brother, everyone has to be so sweet to him! He's a baby!

Damian, 18 and 6'0, made of pure muscle and holding a sword: Greetings.