When a highly dangerous supervillain’s in town and your overprotective adoptive father orders you to “stay out of it”…

Nightwing: *noiselessly drops down from the ceiling in the middle of a heavily guarded warehouse*

Batman: *bruised, bloodied, bound to a metal contraption and on the verge of losing consciousness* D-Dick, what are you –

Nightwing: *disables the handcuffs* If you wanted a binding agreement, we should have pinky-sweared.

Releasing your grandson into the wild that is the Wayne Enterprises gala…

Alfred: *straightening Dick’s bowtie* Now, Master Richard, be charming but not too charming.

Dick: That’s like asking Superman not to be too super.

~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~ • ~

Or his adoptive father not to be too broody.

Nightwing: *fidgeting with his suit, stretching the fabric in, um, certain places*

Red Hood: Just suck in your gut.

Nightwing: What gut?

Red Hood: The little pouch where you keep Alfred’s cookies.

Nightwing:

Red Hood:

Nightwing: *pouts and backflips away*

~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~ · ~

Not cool, Li’l Wing. Not cool.

Planning a surprise birthday party for the Darkest of Knights be like…

Dick [to the rest of the Batfamily]: It’ll cheer Bruce up! He’ll be over the moon. He may even lean back in his chair and nod slightly.


Cue the stoic look on Alfred’s face and the bewildered, skeptical or mischevious one on everyone else’s.