#DID U SAY PAIN STEPH?

[mysterycitrus]

hihihi! tim drake in college real?

oog indeed mein freund

so ur tim drake, ur seventeen, and ur dad has just come back from the dead. u hollowed urself out until there’s nothing left and ur ribs are broken but you’ve never felt better. if u stop moving for more than a second the weight of the world hits u. there’s another kid wearing ur uniform and u have to watch as this new robin and bruce, the bruce u fought for, the bruce u left everything behind for, the bruce u nearly died for, debut as gothams dynamic duo. but it’s fine. u did what u had to do. u feel great, actually.

then ur brother who u love more than anything sits u down and tells u he’s enrolled u in college in california. ur so angry ur spitting. he trusts u and now he’s not even giving u the choice to stay. u want to kick and scream and hold on till ur hands are bloody, but he tells u that he’s worried. he’s been so scared for u since ur dad died. he thinks ur losing urself. he wants u to make choices for urself without bruce. he wants u to spend time with ur friends who are alive again and miss u. he wants u to take a chance to live ur life away from gotham, away from that burden.

he tells u: robin is never truly gone, alright? it’ll never leave. i need u to trust me that it’ll still be u no matter how many other kids wear the cape. i need u to trust that i love u more than what ur able to do in tights.

and he knows this better than anyone. he’s asking u to extricate tim drake from robin and batman and red robin. to remember what it felt like to choose. and after all these years u can’t say no, so u pack ur bags and leave for the west coast.

college is fine. u keep changing majors. u pick up photography as a joke, thinking about snapping photos of the boy wonder from a distance, to print in the basement dark room after school. it’s a laugh, and ur gonna drop it until donna troy finds out, and u spend a long time on the roof of the tower with her taking photos of the sunrise. it’s been a while since the sunrise was the start of ur day. it feels….. unfamiliar. she tells u about how ur brother became nightwing. she tells u about the heartbreak of having to move on. she tells u about choices.

kon’s right down the hall. he can hear u but u can’t hear him, so sometimes you’ll whisper a question for him to shout back. he obligingly poses for ur still life class. he and steph make fun of how u can’t decide what to study. it’s painful to become tim drake and nothing else again, but it happens in increments. u make friends with people in ur tutoriasl. ur less pale — u pinken under the sun easily, peeling flesh turning red and painful, but u look less like a corpse. ur hair is longer, and bart buys u a claw clip shaped like an avocado.

the new robin is growing up, and he explains colour theory to u for one of ur classes. he’s an asshole, but he’s trying. when asked politely, he draws character sheets for bart’s dnd group with minimal grumbling. red and yellow suit him, and looking at him in the costume feels less painful, and more nostalgic.

u brainstorm new ideas for urself, new roles, new ideas for the team, but there’s no rush. u have time. if u see bruce, u kno there’s someone else at his back, watching him through the night. dick texts u life updates, but they’re funny, not desperate. the world continues to spin. u, tim drake, are still alive.

[haveihitanerve]

Family

Damian tried his best not to limp as he strode up three flights of stairs to his room. Grandfather, for his birthday, had gifted him sixteen trained, level eight assassins. In honor of him turning eight. It was kind, and damian had graciously thanked him of course, before the men had attacked. Damian had triumphed, he always did, but not without lack of trying on the other assassins parts. He was badly bruised up but he knew better than to complain, to show any sign that it hurt. At least he had won. Once he was safely behind the doors of his room, damian stripped down. He immediately tended to his wounds before crawling into bed and hugging his pillow close to his chest. Unlike most people, Damian resented his birthday. At least after his battle Grandfather gave him the rest of the day off. A small mercy. Damian hurt. Every inch of him ached and protested in pain. And so, clutching his pillow tight to his chest, blood oozing out of his body, bruises forming in every spot, damian allowed himself to cry. 

Damian tried his best not to limp as he strode three flights of stairs to his room. It was stupid. A mission gone wrong. He shouldn't even have been injured. But he had underestimated the crook. A dumb mistake on his part. How often had it been drilled into him not to underestimate his opponent? Over a thousand. Once he was safely behind the doors of his room, damian stripped down. He winced. The wound was even worse than he had imagined. Before he could start tending to it there was a knock on his door and it creaked open to reveal his father, Bruce Wayne. “Hey baby bird. You alright? You kinda left us-” he froze, spotting damian’s injuries. “Damian. Are you hurt?” he moved forward but damian flinched back. He searched for anything to cover himself. “N-no. Of course not. No sir. Im fine.” He hated the tremor in his voice. Bruce’s eyes widened and he crossed the room in two strides. Damian held his breath, his body locking up, preparing for the blow. But Bruce just knelt down near him, not quite touching him yet. “Hey, hey dami. Princling, can i have a look?” Damian looked at his father in shock. “W-what?” The tremor in his voice seemed to physically wound Bruce. But he didn't stop. “Your wound. Can i look?” Damian slowly relaxed, allowing his arms to move away from his body so bruce could see. “Dad?” the door creaked open and Dick peeked into the room. “Get Alfred.” Bruce ordered. Dicks eyes widened when he spotted damian. Before damian could say anything he was out the door, his footsteps thundering as he sprinted down the stairs. “Really father. I am fine.” Damian started to back away again. He was feeling light headed. “I-i there is no need to- to make a spectacle. I assure you i wont make the same mistake twice. I promise to be good please-” “damian.” Bruces eyes were full of concern. Damian realized tears were slipping down his cheeks. But he couldn't help it. He liked it here. He liked having siblings and teasing each other and getting hugs(though hed never admit it) and running through the streets side by side with his father. He liked seeing his father puff up with pride when he looked at him and liked the soft moments they had together. As a family. He didn't want to leave. To be ridiculed in front of his new family. Even if they didn't see him the same way. “Damian-!” but bruce was getting fuzzy. Everything was getting fuzzy. “I just want to stay.” was all he managed to whisper before he fell into the oblivion. 

When damian awoke he was surprised to hear voices. They were speaking quietly, and nervously, but they were speaking. The sheets he was in, they were his own. He knew that. And he knew the voices too. Cautiously, damian opened one eye, peeking. He almost gasped. Sitting around his bed was his family. Dick was sitting on his left, holding one of his hands as he talked with Tim and Steph who stood at Damian's head, leaning over his headboard. Alfred was standing beside Dick, holding a tray with mostly untouched food, although damian could see jason holding one sandwich. That was strangest of all. Jason was holding a sandwich, seated at the end of his bed with duke, but not eating it. There was also a weight on his legs, and damian smiled lightly when he spotted Titus laying across them, head resting on Damian's thigh. And then there was Bruce. He was watching damian, although his eyes seemed glassy. He was still in his full batman suit, in fact, all of them were still in their suits. Like they had dropped everything and come straight here and never left. The strangest thing was, damian was not in his robin suit. Panic gripped him tightly, the fear that they had taken it and burned it, disgraced they had ever honored him by calling him Robin, until he realized it lay hung over a chair, and his wounds were freshly cleaned and bandaged, and he was in his favorite batman pajamas. Cass, leaning against his bed, noticed his eye. “Hes awake!” she called. Everyone immediately quieted, eyes latching onto him. Damian slowly opened his eyes, blinking around at them all. “Oh damian.” Bruce half lunged for him, crushing him in his arms. (though carefully, so as not to hurt him) “thank the gods you're okay.” his father whispered, holding him close. “But- father i do not understand?” Damian pulled away. “What happened?” “what happened?” Jason exploded. “You got fucking hurt and didn’t tell us! Thats what happened!” His voice was full of anger. “Jay!” Bruce growled. Jason scowled at him, but shut up. But dick nodded. “He has every right to be angry Dad. I am too.” he turned to damian. “Chum, why didn't you tell us?” “yeah prince.” Bruce asked, taking his hand. “Please. Please please please, don't ever scare me like that again.” “scare you?” Damian asked. Bruce let out a humorless chuckle. “I thought you died princling. One moment you're backing away from me, muttering about how you wanted to stay and didn't want to get beat, the next you were collapsing in my arms.” Bruce squeezed his hand. “Please don't ever do that again baby. Please. Tell me.” Domain swallowed, slowly sitting up further. He could feel Steph and Tim’s hands on his head, their warmth seeping into his scalp. He was beginning to understand that they didn't want to hurt him. Or kick him out. “You- you care for me.” damian said. They all nodded, eyes pained and so full of love. Damian wondered how he had missed it. “Im- im sorry. Im so sorry baba.” he whispered softly. “Oh baby.” Bruce pulled him into another hug, one that the others quickly joined in on. “Don't be sorry.” “we love you baby bird.” Jason said, squeezing his hand. “We love you baby bird.” “we love you baby bird.” the others immediately whispered as well, reaching for him. Damian felt tears slip down his cheeks again. But this time not out of fear, or sadness. But out of love. For damian, now eleven years old, had never felt so loved in his life. And surrounded by people who he knew for certain would never abandon him for being weak, Damian allowed himself to cry. 

inspired by this-

[arkytiorwrites]

Day 4: good 4 u

Supreme Strange x Male Reader

I am SO sorry this is late, my sweet duckies. It’s finals and I am dying, but I will make it up to you today, scouts honor.

Stepping up to the mic of the small club, Y/N spoke, "Is this thing on? Testing, testing. Your mom’s a slut and so is your gal."

There was a roar of outraged laughter at that, causing the musician to grin mischievously.

"Sorry couldn't resist. And I’m kiddin’, boys. Gayer than a unicorn shitting rainbows at a Pride Parade, I'm afraid,” he admitted as he sent a flirty wink to the men seated right in front of him. "So, how is everyone tonight? Obviously, not well, considering the fact you're here rather than literally anywhere else.”

Waiting for the laughter to die down, Y/N double checked that his electric guitar was properly tuned.

“Honestly. Same. I've been havin' the shittiest month I've had in years and that's saying something. Especially when you take into consideration barely scraping by to get into college after your homophobic assholes of parents kick your cute ass to the curb."

There were groans and tuts of sympathy.

“Yeah, my boyfriend broke up with me. In the worst way imaginable. And no, I don't mean over text, although he might as well have. You know what the asshole did?"

…

“Steph! Baby I'm back!" Y/N yelled as he slammed the door shut with his foot. He came into the front room of the tiny apartment he shared with his boyfriend of three years, Stephen Strange, a med student who was hellbent on becoming a neurosurgeon at any cost. What Y/N stumbled upon made him wish he'd paid more attention to that little red flag.

Stephen's lab partner, Christine Palmer was hurriedly readjusting her shirt, while Stephen calmly sat there with lipstick all over his mouth and his shirt half undone.

"What the actual fuck, Strange! " Y/N yelled as he dropped the groceries.

“We're over, Y/N,” the other stated coldly.

“I'm sorry. I just violently hallucinated. What?"

"I said, we're over. It was fun, but I've lost interest,” Stephen said, face void of any emotion.

...

The crowd bellowed their displeasure.

“Right? Jesus Christ, what a prick. So, I figured I'd perform a little something for you all. Get it off my chest,” Jack explained. “Stephen Strange, I'd say kiss my ass, but I wouldn't let you touch you with a thirty- nine-and-a-half-foot pole. This is for you, asshole.”

With a middle finger thrown high in the air, Y/N began to play his pain.

"Well good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world?

(Ah-ah-ah-ah)

And good for you, I guess that you've been working on yourself

I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl.”

…

"Hey babe, how was class?" Y/N asked as he looked up from his textbook at the sound of Stephen coming home.

“Horrible,” the med student groaned. Collapsing onto the couch with his head on Y/N's lap, he wrapped his arms around the artist’s waist and started to trace abstract shapes on his hip.

"Poor thing," he cooed, combing his fingers through Stephen's thick, dark hair.

“Love you, starlight,” Stephen murmured.

…

"Well good for you, you look happy and heathy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you

You're doing great out there without me, baby

God, I wish that I could do that

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin' on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you."

As Y/N sang, angry, bitter tears began to trail down his cheeks.

What had he done wrong? Why had Stephen been so damn cold? Where had they gone wrong? He had thought they were happy, Stephen had acted so happy. What the fuck was with the sudden one-eighty? Nothing made any sense anymore.

"Well good for you, I guess you're getting everything you want

You bought a new car and your career’s really taking off

It's like we never even happened, baby

What the fuck is up with that?

And good for you, it's like you never even met me

Remember when you swore to God I was the only

Person who ever got you?

Well, screw that, and screw you

You will never have to hurt the way you know that I do!"

…

"I swear to God, everyone in that class is an idiot," Stephen snarled as he stormed out of his advanced biology class.

Y/N chased after him with his skateboard in hand, hoping to placate the other before he got to his next class.

"Or, maybe you just need to move to a higher class?" Y/N suggested, wrapping an arm around the taller man's waist and nuzzling into his shoulder.

Freezing in the middle of the hallway, Stephen mulled over his words.

"You're a genius, sweetheart,” he announced, dropping a kiss on top of his head. "I'll see you at home, I’m gonna be late. Love you!"

“Love you too!”

…

"Well good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you

You're doing great out there without me, baby

God I wish I could do that

I've lost my mind

I've spent the night cryin’ on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so un affected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you!"

…

Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Y/N knocked on the door of his once apartment, wishing he was anywhere but here. Christine answered, and she looked startled.

“Oh. Um, Y/N. Hi," she greeted awkwardly.

"Stuff the small talk, Palmer. I'm just here for my shit," he snarled frigidly, pushing past the redhead and heading towards the bedroom.

Tears pricked his eyes for the umpteenth time that week when he saw every last one of his possessions had been packed into boxes and were clearly waiting for him to take them.

“He really couldn't wait to get rid of me,” Y/N thought, heart breaking all over again.

"Um I can help you carry your things. If you'd like?” Christine offered softly from the doorway.

"It's fine, I can carry it in one trip. You won't have to see me again.”

…

“Maybe I'm too emotional

But your apathy is like a wound in salt

Maybe I’m too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Maybe I'm too emotional

Your apathy is like a wound in salt

Maybe I’m too emotional

Maybe you never caved at all!"

Y/N never felt more liberated as he told the whole club about his pain and heartache. Yeah, leaving Columbia after fighting so hard to get in sucked like a bitch, but he would be able to start again. He wouldn't have been able to with the constant threat of running into Stephen.

"Well , good for you, you look happy and healthy

Not me, if you ever cared to ask

Good for you, you're doing great out there without me, baby

Like a damn sociopath!

I’ve lost my mind,

I’ve spent the night cryin’ on the floor of my bathroom

But you're so unaffected, I really don't get it

But I guess good for you!

Well, good for you, I guess you moved on really easily.”

Y/N grinned as he reveled in the screams of approval from the crowd.

Things were gonna be okay.

[dukeoftheblackstar]

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Sure, he feels sad when his brothers die, but something about this death feels much different. It's heavier, denser, tighter, and suffocating in a way he can't fully explain.

Mmhm. Right you are, sir, it feels different. Hits different. It's that one life-altering death that shakes you to the core in some days and some days keeps you still.

"Hi baby," Wolffe says. It might seem stupid to say hello to a recording but he doesn't care. 

I resonate on this so deeply because my stupid ass did this when my dad died and we had to go through all his stuff because mum wasn't keen on keeping or disposing them. It's a tale for another day, but there is comfort in that. Comfort in being in that moment even if that moment's gone and will never, ever be replicated.

Daddy come home! Cara yells towards the recorder.

BLOCKING YOU, STEPH BYE ♥

"No," Wolffe's voice cracks. "Please, don't say goodbye." || "Please," Wolffe begs, his entire body shaking. "Cyare. Don't go." || Come home soon, she says, then blows a kiss. I love you, Wolffe.

I'm genuinely inspired to write PloDuch around this timeline because it's the grief that beckons me to do shit, really.

His wife's voice. He thought he'd never hear it again, and he doesn't know if it helped him feel better or made him feel worse.

it's the painful conundrum post-trauma, BLESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

That was such a treat to read. I may have to do a double-read on the succeeding chapters because STEPH Y U STARVE MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE.

I'm excited for more. Pls hurt bb more ♥.

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 7

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Cara (child OFC), Comet

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort, family fluff

Word Count: 1.1k

Author's Note: We are back to the Wolffe angst! (but did we ever really leave?) This part is really sad. I know I keep saying that, but this one actually made me tear up while writing it. I don't usually get emotional when writing emotional scenes, so yeah. Do with that what you will. As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7

"Cara," Wolffe says. "I need you to go with Comet and pack some things from your room, okay?"

Cara looks up at him with a puzzled expression. "Why?"

"Because we can't stay here without mommy," he explains.

"Oh," she frowns. "Where are we going?"

"The Jedi Temple," Wolffe says. "We'll be staying with Plo for a while."

"I don't want to go," she pouts.

Wolffe sighs. "I don't want to go either, but we don't have a choice. Please, help daddy and go with Comet to pack."

"No," Cara whines.

"Come on, ad'ika," Comet says. He gets up off of the couch and stretches his arms over his head. "I bet I can pack faster than you."

"Nuh uh," Cara says, then jumps off of Wolffe's lap and runs toward her bedroom.

"Well, that was easy," Comet chuckles. He looks down at Wolffe. "You okay?"

Wolffe sighs. "Do you want a real answer?"

Comet frowns. "I guess that was a dumb question."

"I'm fine," Wolffe says, but his facial expression betrays his words.

Comet decides to change the subject. "How many boxes can she bring?"

"One," Wolffe says. "The Jedi aren't big on things ."

"Understood," Comet nods, then walks off to follow Cara.

"Oh, Comet," Wolffe throws over his shoulder. "Make sure the di'kute in the kitchen clean up their mess."

Comet smirks. "10-4."

Wolffe remains seated on the floor and fidgets with the carpet pieces again. Fine. He doesn't even know what that word means anymore. He used to, back when life was simple and fine just meant he wasn't dead. Now, he's not sure what to feel, how to feel, or how to deal with whatever feelings he's having. Sure, he feels sad when his brothers die, but something about this death feels much different. It's heavier, denser, tighter, and suffocating in a way he can't fully explain.

Unwilling to dwell on his unchecked thoughts, Wolffe grabs whatever box he can find and heads to his bedroom. He scrolls through the mental list he made and collects all of the obvious items he wants to keep. Some things are on the bookshelf, like her favorite holo-novel. Some things are in the dresser, like her nightshirt and a lingerie set he bought her for their first anniversary. And some things are on the bedside table, like the holo-photo album and her half-used chapstick.

He opens the bedside table drawer to check if there's anything hiding in it he wants and his heart sinks. His gold wedding band sits alone in the drawer. He almost forgot about it. He can't wear it most of the time, but usually he'll put it on when he's home. He didn't even get a chance this time around. He picks up the band and admires it fondly, reading the inscription and the date. His wife saved every credit she had to buy those rings for them. He carefully places it in the box.

Wolffe rummages through the closet next, pulling little bits and pieces of his wife out and places the most important items into the box. He only gets one box, so he has to make every spot count. He shifts a stack of clothes to the side and a data-stick falls off the shelf. He bends over to pick it up and studies it for a moment. Wondering what's on it, he plugs it into the holo-projector and sits on the edge of the bed. An image pops up and his breath is stolen as the recording plays.

Hi darling, his wife says with a warm smile while sitting next to Cara at their kitchen table.

Wolffe gasps, then covers his mouth. He remembers when his wife sent him this recording on Cara's third birthday. He was away on a mission, and wasn't able to look at it for a couple of rotations, but it made him so happy to see them both. He'd been on that mission for months and missed them dearly. He completely forgot about it until now, and can't believe his wife kept it all this time. She looked so beautiful that day, and Cara was all dressed up for her special day, too.

Today is Cara's third birthday, she continues, then looks at Cara. Say hi to daddy.

Hi daddy! Cara yells with a big grin.

"Hi baby," Wolffe says. It might seem stupid to say hello to a recording but he doesn't care. 

It's time to sing happy birthday, his wife says. Ready, Cara? Nice and loud so daddy can hear.

Cara nods her head and they both start to sing. Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Cara, happy birthday to you.

Wolffe's eyes turn misty and his body trembles as he tries to contain his emotions.

Now, blow out the candles and make a wish, she says.

Cara blows out the three lit candles and his wife claps.

What'd you wish for? she asks with a big smile.

Daddy come home! Cara yells towards the recorder.

Wolffe can't hold back the tears that roll down his face. He wishes he had more time with her. With both of them, together, as a family. It was too short. He didn't even get the chance to give his wife the life she deserved. She took care of everything while he was deployed, and he vowed to take care of everything when the war was over, but now… Every vow he made with her has turned to ash. Until death do us part was the promise, but now, death has claimed her.

Okay, Wolffe, his wife says. I know this needs to be short, so we're gonna say goodbye now.

"No," Wolffe's voice cracks. "Please, don't say goodbye."

Say goodbye to daddy, she says to Cara while waving towards the recorder.

Bye, daddy! Cara yells and waves.

"Please," Wolffe begs, his entire body shaking. "Cyare. Don't go."

Come home soon, she says, then blows a kiss. I love you, Wolffe.

The recording ends, but the last image stays. Wolffe stands up on shaky legs and approaches the projected image. He stretches out his hand to touch his wife's cheek, but his fingers pass through the pixels. He gasps, then tries again. This time to brush her hair with the palm of his hand, but it also passes through. It's an image. It's not real. She's not real. Why isn't she real? All he wants to do is touch her one more time and hug her one more time. To feel her warmth.

"I love you, too," Wolffe whispers through a shuddered breath.

Wolffe carefully pulls the data-stick out of the holo-projector and cradles it in his hands. Besides his daughter, this is his most prized possession. His wife's voice. He thought he'd never hear it again, and he doesn't know if it helped him feel better or made him feel worse. Regardless, he nestles the special memory into the box and surrounds it with his wife's other things to keep it safe from harm. If anything ever happens to that memory, Wolffe doesn't know what he will do. 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7

Masterlist

AO3

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[herapocalyps-a]

“For fuck’s sake!” // sup motherfucker xoxo

                               ❛      you   know  with  how   much   you   use   that   phrase   i’m   surprised   FUCK   hasn’t   become   a    god    all    on   it’s   own   .     ❜

                                           she   squats   over   him   ,   lips   pursed   ,   cloudy   eyes   brimming   with   unadulterated   ANGER   .   Previously   ,   it   had   been   directed   at    Wednesday   .   But   the   old   fuck   was   g o n e   now   and   had   taken   Shadow   with   him   ,   leaving   her   with   no   outlet   but   the   fallen    KING   .    

                                         So   when   he   made   one   of   his    snarky   comments   she   had   lashed   out   -   punched   him   right   in   the   gut   and   sent   him   flying   into    a    brick   wall   .    She   felt   a   small   amount   of   g u i l t   as   she   loomed   over   his   broken   body   -   after   all   he   was   a   victim   of   this   shit   storm   too   .   but   god   DAMN   he   had    it   coming   .   

                                          with   a    sigh   she   offers    him    her   hand   .   If   she   could   manifest   TEARS   from   this   decaying   body   one   might   have   silently   fallen   to   the   pavement   below   .    She   felt   cold   &    empty   &   hopeless   .    They   had   been   so   close   ,   and   in   a   moment   the   rug   had   been   ripped   from   under   her   once   more   .   

                            ❛      I’m   done    now   .   Promise   .     ❜

[badgirlcovenrep]

omg chenrich prompts? hell yeah!! Okay so how about immediately after the council meeting? Steph taking Alex to the hospital because u KNOW its steph who takes her to get treated

As is expected I got a little carried away 😁

So this is a bit of a mix between chenrich in the hospital and medical grade painkillers Alex lol

Hope you enjoy!

No one could have prepared them for that community meeting. Steph shook all over just to think of Jed luring Alex into the woods. Of him leaving her for dead in some awful mining hole.

It made her so furious. Even hearing him cry, blabbering like a sad shadow of the man she'd known (the man that was all a charismatic lie, showmanship, to hide the disgusting truth) her anger, her hurt was too fresh for the girl to gather any sort of sadness for him.

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Alex repeats, standing at the bar with them.

Ryan is staring, speechless, at his father's crying shadow.

"I'm so sorry-" she tries to take a step forward, but her feet falter, and Alex nearly topples over to the ground, grunting in pain as Steph jumps to hold her elbow and help steady her into the floor once again.

"Fuck, Alex, you need a doctor." Steph insists. But Alex is looking at Ryan with so much concern that she can't get her to move.

"It's not your fault, okay?" Ryan finally speaks, breaking out of whatever haze he'd been in to look back at her, "It's not your fault. I just- need a moment to process all this. Go with Steph, you're hurt."

Alex finally looks at her then, and Steph can feel herself plead with her eyes - because she might not know a lot about these sorts of injuries but she's smart enough to know - just by the way she's swaying back and forth on unsteady feet - they probably have another minute, at most, before Alex collapses.

"You did it." Steph mumbles, voice filling with unbridled pride as well as urgency, touching down Alex's arm to hold her cold hand, "You did it, ok? You can settle down now."

Her brown eyes are hazy, blinking back to Steph with rapidly heavying eyelids.

"Good. That's- That's good." Alex slurs back, the last reminiscent of adrenaline leaking out of her body in a heavy huff, "very, very good-"

Steph barely has a second to process what is happening before Alex's body gives out. By some miracle, she's able to flip her arms around her shoulders just fast enough to stop her from falling to the ground.

****

Pike helps her take Alex to the local hospital before going back to deal with Jed's arrest.

It's a small hospital and probably has about ten rooms, but given that these sorts of things (bad things) rarely ever happen in Haven Springs, they're quickly given a private room, and Alex is just conscient enough (before she passes out from the painkillers) to tell the staff she could stay.

Steph doesn't think she would have left either way. Not without knowing Alex was alright, but it's good to have permission to sit by her as she fluttered in and out of drug-induced, heavy sleep.

The doctor had given her the run-down of the other girl's injuries. Five broken ribs, stage two trauma to the head - probable concussion to be assessed once she was more awake - a punctured lung, internal bleeding all around the ribcage, and a bullet wound to the shoulder.

She was an absolute mess of scars. A walking, breathing miracle.

Steph had heard the doctor talking to the police when she stepped out to get some snacks at the vending machines. "She should be dead." He said, with such conviction and surprise, it made her stomach turn.

Steph felt that she could do nothing but sit by Alex's sleeping form, slowly realizing that she was absolutely screwed. Because she already liked this girl way too much - and God, what a roller-coaster of emotion she'd been put on the last month - but how could she not? When Alex just waltzed into everyone's lives like this determined, selfless little light? When she was so obviously a rare soul, made of so much sweetness, and softness, and strength, Steph doubted she'd ever come across someone like her again?

Looking at the circumstances from the other side now, it seemed as inevitable as any of it.

"I can feel you thinking." Alex's voice startles her out of her thoughts. Steph looks up to meet her tired brown eyes, looking so soft and vulnerable without her glasses and surrounded by clean hospital sheets, "You've been broody lately."

Steph giggles, choking on her own emotion, "Guess I'm still mad about Jed." It's not a lie. She is upset. But there was a lot more than that, more about how her insides swelled with emotion when Alex looked at her - but she leaves it the way it is.

"I forgave him." She shrugs. And Steph knows she did, she was there after all, but that didn't mean the drummer was quite as ready herself.

"Well, I didn't." And maybe that makes her childish - resentful - but she can't take the image of him pointing a gun at Alex out of her head. The image of him pulling the trigger, sending her off to what could very well have been death - "at least you made him cry like a baby."

"Jerk." Alex smiles, eyes squinting back at her in humorous indignation before they slowly turn more vulnerable as she adjusts herself on the mattress, patting the empty space beside her body, "Can you- come lie down with me?"

There's nothing, truly, that Steph would have liked more. She would take any chance of being closer to Alex (and of getting off the uncomfortable hospital chair) but she was also still afraid - still scared something might go wrong and they'd lose her. "Are you sure? You're hurt."

"Please?" Alex pleads, blinking back at her with honest-to-God puppy eyes, even if still a little glassed-over from the amount of Vicodin they were pumping into her veins. For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Steph has even more confirmation that she is screwed.

Because, honestly, there's nothing Alex couldn't get her to do with just a slow blink of her brown eyes.

So she gets up and climbs into bed with her. It's incredibly tight for two people, and they are instantly pressed together as Alex scoots over the pillow so they can look at each other, alone in this hospital room that smelled like industrial-grade detergent.

Alex reaches forward and takes her cheeks between her palms, so very close Steph can't help but catalog all the cuts and bruises covering her face.

"You're so pretty." The girl says, finally, and Steph can hear the tiny slur in her voice. She's probably still drunk on a shit ton of medicine, but it does nothing to stop the drummer from blushing profusely, "you're, really, really pretty. Have I told you that?"

"Hm- yeah you sorta- do that when you're on painkillers." Steph comments, and her eyes can't help but fall to Alex's mouth.

She has a tiny cut on her lower lip, and Steph's fingers itch to touch it. To feel her skin again, like that night on the roof, when she felt so warm and tingly, like a live wire of electricity that could swallow Steph whole. For now, she holds her distance.

"But it's true." Alex pouts, "and you're really hot when you're protective too."

Now that- that was different from anything she'd said before. And when she looks up, the girl realizes Alex's eyes have turned to stare at Steph's lips too.

"Yeah?" She asks, a little too cocky given the situation, but oh well, you can't blame her for the swell of pride that takes over her chest.

"Yeah." Alex teases back, "Thank you. For taking care of me. For being mad at Jed for me- even if you can't do anything about it." Her tone turns sincere, and her eyes flutter everywhere but Steph's face, Alex's dead giveaway that she was trying to hold something back.

"Oh please, I'll rip his mustache off." Steph jokes, because it's her default strategy when she doesn't quite know what to do, "You have lost your right to upstanding citizen facial hair, sir!"

"Fuck, Steph, don't make me laugh." Alex says as a few stolen giggles escape her lips, creating ripples across her shattered chest that made her hiss with pain.

"Shit, I'm sorry." Steph apologizes, and on instinct, she leans closer to run her hands over Alex's arm in reassurance, holding the weight of her body above Alex with her elbow.

From this angle, they were even closer, and Steph was staring at her from above, watching Alex smile at her, head on the pillow and a half-lidded, humorous expression on her face.

"Oh, this is nothing. Just a few cuts compared to my fighting days." She jokes, and Steph's heart is filled with so much concern, so much love for this girl she can't help but fluster with anger.

"Shut up. You're gonna hurt yourself if you don't take it seriously." Steph says, "you're like, seriously hurt, Alex, you could have died."

Steph wants to ask, but Alex's free hand reaches forward and pulls her closer, fist tightening around the collar of her button-up shirt, and suddenly they are so close her hand shakes with the itch to touch her, "See? Protective Steph is so hot."

"I know. I'm sorry." Alex has the decency to look reprimanded, smoothing one hand over Steph's shoulder in a simple act that sends calming waves over Steph's flushed skin, "I'm okay. I promise" she's being sincere, Steph knows she is by the way she frowns slightly in concern. However, there's a quiet, teasing smile spreading across her face.

And Steph honestly used to think she was smooth.

She made girls blush by the minute. Awoke the bisexuality in at least a few of her drunk makeouts on the way from California to here. She used to be a real flirt, ready for anything a pretty girl could throw her way. But sitting here, with her torso half hovering over Alex Chen's body, her tongue feels heavy, and her brain can't conjure a single thing to offer in response.

It's at least a relief that she doesn't say anything, because a second later, Alex is smiling at her with her coy, knowing little smirk, and pulling her in for a kiss.

Steph is far too focused on not crushing her further, very deliberately placing her hands on both sides of her head to better hold her weight, but she still feels the strong, dizzying zap of electricity as Alex's lips touch hers, her lungs filling with liquid, warm waves of emotion.

And maybe, Steph thinks, it'd be fine if she never breathed air again.

[jacquihyde]

Nighthawks

It’s a cold winter in Gotham, and the long nights provide a perfect backdrop for mysterious, dangerous occurrences on the campus of Gotham University. Tim Drake believes that the case will be open-and-shut, but combined with the weight of the secrets he is keeping from his family, his boyfriend, and himself, the skeletons in the university’s closet may succeed in drawing him too close.

Part 3: The Only Ones Left In The World

Bernard had his own room at Tim’s apartment, but he had fallen asleep in Tim’s own room the first night that he moved in and hadn’t gone back since. It had gotten to the point that Tim’s bed felt empty without him. 

It was empty now. Bernard was at Gotham University studying while Tim continued to investigate the strange events occurring on campus. Scouring social media had told him that there had been a few more sightings of shadows, strange feelings, even apparitions. At least one person had ended up with a handprint mark like Mikaela’s somewhere on their body.

Tim put a hand to his own neck, imagining it. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. Not leave a lasting scar cold. 

Tim spotted movement at the door and glanced up, seeing Bernard silhouetted in the yellow light spilling out of the hallway. “Hey,” he said.

“You’re home earlier than I thought,” Tim said.

Bernard groaned. “I could not do those readings anymore.” He flopped dramatically onto the bed, and Tim tried not to flinch. “What are you up to?”

Tim shuffled over slightly. “You remember the thing with Mikaela?”

Bernard nodded. “You’re looking into that?”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Not getting much, though. Have you seen anything weird happening on campus?”

Bernard leaned back against the pillows. “Oh, there were some people LARPing The Princess Bride in front of the library when I was leaving. That was a little strange.”

Tim grinned. “Weird like supernatural weird.”

Bernard shrugged. “I mean, there’s always rumors,” he said. “Some people think there are secret tunnels under the school, but I think that pretty much every college has that rumor. And the frats can get kind of crazy with hazing, they’re always telling stories...oh, speaking of frats.”

“This can’t be good.” 

Bernard laughed. “I got invited to an Omega Chi Omega party on Friday, and I was wondering if you wanted to go with me.”

“Weren’t you telling me that Omega Chi Omega is kind of insane?”

“Yeah, and I want to experience it. Come on, it’s college. I like parties.” Bernard leaned closer to Tim. “And I like you.”

Tim sat up straighter. “You said it was rush week,” he said. “Are you pledging?”

“Fuck no,” Bernard said. “But I think it’s funny that I got invited to this party like they thought I was going to.” He shot a questioning glance at Tim’s laptop. “Hey, don’t you usually work downstairs?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m tired.”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “Are you?”

Tim was tired. Among other things. “Yes,” he said. He turned back to his laptop. “Um, do you -”

“Hey, what’s that on your shirt?”

Tim knew without having to look that he’d started bleeding again. “Oh,” he said, glancing down anyway. A steadily-growing spot of bright red had appeared on his side, standing out against his light gray shirt. “Um, I was stabbed.”

Bernard was staring at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry, you were stabbed?”

“Lightly stabbed,” Tim said.

“Oh, lightly stabbed. That’s so much better.” 

“It is, though!” Tim said. “It didn’t hit anything vital. I won’t even need stitches.” 

“Yeah, sure,” Bernard said. “Where do you keep first aid kits, again? I know you have at least twelve stashed around here.”

Tim sighed. He knew when to give up. “There’s one under the bed.” 

Bernard disappeared underneath the bed. “Take your shirt off,” he said, his voice muffled.

“As you wish,” Tim said. He heard Bernard laugh and couldn’t help but smile. It turned into a pained hiss as he twisted to remove his t-shirt.

“Shit,” Bernard said. “Here, let me…” Tim heard a thunk as he tossed the first aid kit onto the bed, then Bernard’s hands were on his skin, helping him take off the shirt. Tim could feel Bernard’s stare at the wound like it was another scar. “Did you even do anything to treat it?”

“I did!” Tim protested weakly.

“Like what? What did you do?”

“Waited for it to stop bleeding and then tried not to move,” Tim admitted.

Bernard glared at him. “Wrong answer.”

“I promise that it had stopped bleeding,” Tim said. “I don’t know what happened.” Bernard took out his phone, typing something. “What are you doing?” Tim asked.

“Googling how to treat a stab wound,” Bernard said.

“Wow,” Tim said. “I’m glad I’m in such safe hands.”

“Sorry that my neuroscience homework didn’t prepare me for treating my boyfriend’s ‘light stab wound’,” Bernard said. “Okay, so this is going to sting a bit.”

Tim braced himself, but still winced at the feeling of antiseptic against his skin. “It’s not that deep,” Bernard said. “And it’s pretty clean, considering...what you do. Who was it, anyway? It wasn’t…”

“It was not one of my brothers,” Tim affirmed. “We’re past that. Um, it was a gang fight that I got in the middle of. Red Hood went after them, B made me go home.” 

“Good,” Bernard said. The cold of the antiseptic was gone, followed by mild pressure. “So you’ve been doing this for how long?” he asked, quieter this time.

“Since I was thirteen,” Tim said. 

“Hm,” Bernard said. “And how many stab wounds have you had?” 

His tone was humorous, but Bernard would have to be a stranger for Tim not to notice the darker tone lurking underneath his words. “Not too many, I promise,” Tim said. 

“I think we might have different definitions of ‘not too many’.” 

Bernard brushed his fingers against another scar on Tim’s abdomen, then another, then another. Tim caught his hand, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m okay,” he murmured. 

Bernard finally finished applying the bandages and sat back up, his lips just a breath away from Tim’s. “I know you are,” he said softly.

Tim leaned in to kiss him, and they didn’t talk for a while after that.

Apparently Bernard was serious about the frat party. Tim didn’t quite believe him until they were on Gotham U’s campus, standing in front of a brightly lit house. Loud music and laughter spilled out of the open windows and door. It looked like something out of a bad movie. He turned to Bernard to tell him that when suddenly the door slammed open, two guys dashing outside. They stopped short upon seeing Bernard and Tim. “Bernard!” one yelled, then turned to his friend. “This is the guy I was telling you about. You know, my chem lab partner. Super cool.”

“Oh, you’re Bernard,” the other dude said. He was taller, a Gotham University cap sitting sideways on his head. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Chad.” Of course it is, Tim thought. 

“Nice to meet you too. And nice seeing you, Zac,” Bernard said. “Um, this is my boyfriend Tim.”

Zac narrowed his eyes at Tim. “Do I know you?” he asked. “You look really familiar.”

“Um,” Tim said. 

“Holy shit, you’re Tim Drake-Wayne,” Chad interrupted. He looked over at Zac. “Did you know he was dating Tim Drake-Wayne?”

“Dude, no,” Zac said. “That’s so cool, bro.”

“Um, thanks,” Bernard said. “I think so too. I think we’re going to head inside -”

“Oh!” Chad said. “Before you go in, just make sure to steer clear of the basement. We’ve locked it up for a reason, you know?”

Bernard raised his eyebrows. “...Okay,” he said. He took Tim’s hand and the two of them headed into the house. They almost immediately met crowds of people — sitting on the stairs, dancing in the living room, drinking in the kitchen. Bernard had told him that Omega Chi Omega threw some of the biggest parties on campus. Tim definitely believed him. 

“They were interesting,” Tim said.

“Who, Zac and Chad?” Bernard said. “Yeah, sorry about them.”

“No, it’s fine,” Tim said. “I’m glad I could boost your popularity.”

Bernard laughed. Tim glanced around at the students surrounding them. That could have been me, he thought. If he had never witnessed Dick’s parents’ deaths. If Jason had never gone to Ethiopia. If Tim hadn’t dropped out of Ivy Town U. If, if, if.

“Hey, are you okay?” Bernard asked.

Tim glanced over at him. To be heard, he would either have to yell or get a whisper’s breath away from Bernard. He much preferred the latter. “It’s kind of a lot,” he said. 

He didn’t explain, but he didn’t need to. “Do you want to leave?" Bernard asked. "Because we can. It's no big deal.”

Tim shook his head. “No, just…” He trailed off, not sure how to put it into words.

Bernard smiled. “Just focus on me, okay?”

Tim couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay.” He wanted to kiss him. It took him a moment to remember that that was something that he could do now, whenever he wanted. And so he did. He felt Bernard’s grin against his lips, his arms wrapping loosely around his neck. They were surrounded by people, and yet Tim felt like they were the only ones in the world.

“Tim?”

The illusion disappeared as instantly as it had taken shape. Tim was suddenly aware of the people surrounding him, the loud music and chatter. And there, standing behind him, was Steph. He couldn’t see her face. He didn’t want to see her face. But he knew exactly who she was, exactly where she was. It would be impossible for him not to.

Tim forced himself to turn around, and sure enough, there she was. He couldn’t read her expression. He could count on one hand the number of times that that had happened. The LED lights lining the room faded from blue to purple. Steph would like that, he thought dimly. 

He realized that she was speaking and forced himself to tune back in. “...don’t think we’ve met,” she was saying to Bernard. Tim unconsciously found himself squeezing Bernard’s hand. He wasn’t sure of when he’d taken hold of it. Part of him wanted to let go, but the rest of him knew that he couldn’t.

Bernard squeezed back. “Um, I’m Bernard.”

Steph smiled slightly. “Oh, I remember Tim talking about you! I’m Stephanie.”

Bernard’s eyes widened. “You’re real? Back in high school I thought that Tim was making you up.”

Steph laughed, and Tim took advantage of her split second distraction to meet Bernard’s gaze. Tim wasn’t sure exactly what emotion was behind his own eyes — something along the lines of panic, probably — but Bernard got the hint. “Um, I’m going to go get drinks,” he said. “Do you want anything?”

Tim shook his head. Bernard squeezed his hand once more and then disappeared into the crowd. Tim turned to Steph, acutely aware of his heartbeat echoing in his ears. He tried to remember some of the grounding techniques that Jaine had taught him. Five things he could see — the purple lights, the car passing by outside the window, the lock on the basement door…

“So are you going to talk, or should I?” Steph said.

Tim wrenched his attention back to her. “I don’t know what to say,” he said weakly. 

Steph shrugged. “I can talk, if you want,” she offered.

“I’m sorry,” Tim blurted out.

Steph frowned. “You’re...sorry,” she repeated. “For what?”

“I…” Tim swallowed hard. “You know.”

“Tim.” Steph took a step closer to him. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m not mad. Seriously.”

“I should have told you.”

Steph shook her head. “You didn’t have to. That was up to you.” She looked off in the direction that Bernard had gone. “I do remember you talking about him in high school, you know,” she said. “You always really liked him.”

“I didn’t know what it was that I was feeling,” Tim said. “I didn’t even register it until...until the whole cult thing.”

Steph let out a breath. “God, of course it was the cult thing. That’s exactly the kind of weird shit you would get into.”

Tim laughed. He could feel the weight sliding off his shoulders as Steph pulled him into a hug. “I did love you, you know,” he whispered. “I still do.”

She held onto him tighter. “I love you too.”

Tim leaned his head against her shoulder, opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of the basement door behind her. The door was wide open, the padlock hanging uselessly from the doorknob. He barely had time to register it before the world went black.

He stumbled backwards, pulling away from Steph. She kept a hold on his arm amidst the screams from the other partygoers. “What the hell?” she yelled, her mouth close to his ear. “Did a fuse blow or something?”

Tim tried to scan the room, but his eyes hadn’t yet adjusted. “I don’t think…”

The LED lights flashed back on — blue, then purple, then pink. There was a shriek coming from somewhere to Tim’s left, not tinged with laughter or exhilaration as the earlier yells had been, but infused with terror. He didn’t have to say a word. Steph was already moving, pulling him with her.

The crowd had grown too thick to easily maneuver through, but the two of them were smaller enough than most of the frat boys that they could form a path. Even then, Tim could only catch fleeting glimpses of the body lying still on the ground, the guy's skin covered in frost and handprints. His eyes were open, but glazed over, unresponsive. 

Tim had barely managed to process the image in front of him before he was hearing more screaming, this time from another corner of the room. He didn’t even have to look to know that there was another comatose body frozen on the floor. 

He turned to Steph. “Get everyone out,” he said.

She nodded, her eyes wide. “What about you?”

“I need to check something out,” he said. 

“So you’re going to go towards whatever’s causing this?” she said. “Tim Drake, you would be the first to die in a horror movie.”

“I know,” Tim said. Without another word he moved away, shoving through the crowd towards the basement door. Everyone was too distracted to notice him approaching the forbidden location. Some were still gathered around the bodies, but most had figured out that escape was their best option. 

“Tim!” 

Tim turned away from the door, and there was Bernard, barely visible through the fleeing crowds. He made eye contact with him, feeling the screaming, the running footsteps, the heat of the crowd surrounding them fade away. The only ones left in the world. 

Tim stepped backwards, closing the basement door behind him. The last thing he saw was Bernard’s stricken face, a word that Tim never got to hear still hanging on his lips.

It was even darker in the basement. Windows lined the tops of the walls, letting the dim glow of the streetlights outside stream in. Tim kept a hand on the wall as he carefully navigated the stairs. It looked like the room hadn’t been renovated, or even cleaned, in decades. Tim could just barely make out the faded posters lining the room, and, surrounding them, the graffiti. It looked as if everyone who had ever been a part of Omega Chi Omega had signed these walls. Some deep-set instinct told Tim to stop touching them. 

The only furniture was the shelves lining the walls. They were little more than worn-out planks of wood, looking as though they were going to give out at any moment. Most of them were unused, with only a few places throughout the room, seemingly random, having objects placed upon them. He approached the closest, a folded-up Gotham University Nighthawks jersey. He could just barely make out a name and a number — Rivers, 11. Amidst the scramble of words written on the wall, Tim could read one in particular, written deliberately above where the jersey was lying. “Logan Rivers, 2024,” he murmured aloud.

He made his way around the room, investigating each shelf. There was a black ring (David Choi, 2009), a faded and empty journal (Jamie Collins, 1978), a torn red tie (Alec Samuel, 1994). Tim wondered idly if it was some kind of hall of fame or something. It obviously wasn’t just anyone who got to leave an artifact down here.

At the far end of the room, there was a silver locket, so small and unassuming that Tim almost completely missed it. “Sam Kingston, 1985,” he read. His hand hovered above the locket, but he didn’t touch it. Something felt sacred about it, too personal for him to see.

There was a creak from the stairs, and Tim whirled around, his hand flying to his waist for a weapon that didn’t exist. One of the bros — Chad — was standing in the shadows engulfing the last stair. “Hey,” Tim said. “Sorry, I know you said not to come down here, but I got kind of pushed down in the whole chaos upstairs. I’ll leave.”

Chad said nothing, just continued to stare at him. Tim’s heart leaped into his throat. “Chad?”

Tim didn’t even see him move. One moment Chad was on the stairs, the next he was leaping at him, hands outstretched. Tim barely managed to leap aside, and even then, Chad was close enough for him to feel the cold wafting off of his skin. “Shit,” Tim whispered as Chad turned back around to face him. His skin had gone pale, and Tim could see the edges of a frost-encrusted handprint peering out of his collar. “Chad, this isn’t you.”

Chad charged him again. Tim drove him back with an elbow to the stomach, jumping out of the way of his hands. He had no clue how this thing spread, but he could tell that it wasn’t anything he wanted to take any chances on. It affects different people in different ways, he thought, shoving Chad back again. Chad’s back hit the shelves and he stumbled as the wood gave a dangerous creak. Mikaela was fine, just shaken. The people outside were knocked out. Chad… It was like he was possessed. He was faster than before. Much stronger than he should have been. And there was nothing, nothing at all, left behind his eyes.

Tim ran for the stairs. He knew that Chad was right behind him, but if he timed it right…

He vaulted over the railing. Chad was going too fast to stop himself and slammed right into it. Tim watched as he took one step, then two, then collapsed onto the ground, his soulless eyes slowly shutting. 

Tim jumped down off of the stairs, approaching Chad as quietly as possible. The color was slowly returning to his skin, but the handprint still stood out, stark-white and frozen. He could see the fight going out of him. Hopefully, he would be back to normal, if a little disoriented, by the time he woke up.

Tim maneuvered out of one of the basement windows, just wide enough for him to fit through. Someone had called the cops, and the outside of the frat house was bathed in red and blue light. Tim slipped past the crowds onto the sidewalk, away from where the officers were roaming. 

“Tim!” 

He whirled around, and there was Bernard, getting to his feet from where he was sitting on the curb. Tim rushed over to him. “What the hell happened in there?” Bernard asked. 

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “It was like what happened to Mikaela, but on a whole other level.” He glanced around. “Where did Steph go?”

“She was talking to the cops, last I saw her,” Bernard said. His voice dropped lower. “You didn’t tell me that you dated Spoiler.”

Tim raised his eyebrows. “Did she tell you that?”

“No,” Bernard said. “I figured it out.”

Tim wished he could go back in time and tell his thirteen-year-old self all about the guy he would eventually end up dating. “Well. You were right,” he said. 

Bernard laughed, but it seemed subdued. Tim reached out, grasping his hand again. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

Bernard nodded. “Yeah. It’s just kind of hitting me that I’m dating a vigilante. When you went down to the basement...it kind of freaked me out. Same as when you got stabbed the other day. Not only because I don’t want you to get hurt, but because…” He stopped suddenly. “This is stupid.”

Tim shook his head. “No, what is it?” 

Bernard sighed. “I’m just never going to really know that part of your life, am I?” Tim stared at him, and Bernard begrudgingly continued. “It’s like...you looked right at me after everything went crazy tonight. And you didn’t say anything, you just ran right into danger without saying a word. And the whole stabbing thing, you were going to hide that from me. And I get it. I really do. It’s just a lot to think about.”

Tim swallowed hard. “I’m…” he started to say.

Bernard cut him off. “Don’t say you’re sorry,” he said. “I’m not mad. It was just a weird night and everything’s kind of hitting me all at once.” He looked up over Tim’s head at the dispersing crowds behind them. “We should head home. I don’t want to get caught up in whatever happens here next.”

Tim couldn’t get Bernard’s words out of his head. He couldn’t tell what Bernard was thinking either, and it haunted him, running as a constant undercurrent in his mind. It was only a matter of time before someone noticed, and of course that someone ended up being Jaine.

“You have something to say,” she told him. She couldn’t even see his face — she was at her desk while Tim was turned away from her, giving Batman the axolotl bite-sized pieces of earthworm. “I can always tell with you.”

Tim nodded. “Something happened the other day,” he said, pushing past the reluctance. Batman finished the last piece of earthworm and turned to look at him with unblinking eyes. “That’s all I’ve got,” Tim told him. Batman, predictably, did not respond.

“Was it a Robin thing or a Tim Drake thing?” Jaine asked.

“Sort of both.” Tim sat back down. “Bernard and I were at this party…” He slowly told her about the Omega Chi Omega incident, from the moment that Steph caught him and Bernard to their conversation after Tim left the basement. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it,” he finished quietly, barely able to be heard over Batman’s filter bubbling. 

Jaine nodded. “Do you feel guilty about it?”

“Maybe not guilty,” Tim said. “Except…” He sighed. “I want him to be a part of my life,” he said. “Every bit of it. Even the darker parts. But I don’t know how to do that.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know how?” Jaine asked. “You can’t, or you won’t?”

“Both,” Tim said. “I think. I don’t really know how to define it. I’m just not used to opening up to people like that. Even if I want to, the words get stuck in my throat. And mixing that with what I’m letting him into…”

Jaine nodded. “It’s hard,” she said. “He knows Tim, and he knows Robin. But knowing both, that’s different.”

“Yeah,” Tim said. “Different. It feels like it shouldn’t be possible.” 

“But you know that it is,” Jaine pointed out. “And he’d tell you that too.”

Tim nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “That and a million other things.” 

“So what are you going to tell him?” Jaine asked. 

Tim thought about it, and then spoke.

At the end of the night, Robin was perched on his own windowsill, peering in through the window. Bernard was in the living room, typing something on his laptop. Light streamed in from the hallway behind him, making him look as if he was made of gold. Tim knocked on the window lightly and Bernard glanced up. He smiled slightly when he saw Tim outside, getting up to unlock the window.

“This is a surprise,” Bernard said as he slid the window open. “There’s a perfectly good entrance downstairs.”

“I needed to talk to you,” Tim said. “And I didn’t want to wait.” Bernard frowned, and Tim instantly felt guilty. “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just about the other day at the party.”

“Oh,” Bernard said. “I told you, I’m not mad about it -”

“I know you’re not,” Tim said. “There are just some things that I want to say.” 

Bernard nodded. “Okay,” he said. Tim was silent, and Bernard raised his eyebrows. “So are you going to talk, or…”

“I am, I just...ugh. I literally rehearsed this. Why is it so hard?” 

“You rehearsed it?” Bernard repeated.

“I don’t want to get this wrong,” Tim said. “I’ve never done this before. Any of this.”

Bernard nodded. “Like, dating a guy?”

“Yes,” Tim said. “No. It’s not just about that. I’ve never dated someone who knows about every side of me who isn’t a vigilante themselves. And I want to say that that’s why I instinctively want to hide things from you. It’s not like the ‘because I love you’ thing -” He realized what he had said and cut himself off, his cheeks flushing bright red. Bernard stared at him, his mouth slightly open. Tim forced himself to keep talking. “That’s not what I want it to be like. But I do want to protect you. I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, not again, not ever. But that’s...that’s not the whole truth. I don’t really know how to open up. I’m trying to learn how, but it’s never been something that I’ve ever been good at, not ever. And you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry. I really am.”

Bernard stepped closer to him. When he spoke, their lips almost brushed together. “You know that you can talk to me about anything.”

“I do know that,” Tim replied. “I’m just not great at making myself believe it.”

“You’re getting better,” Bernard said. “You’re talking to me now, right?” He reached up, his hands framing the sides of Tim’s face. “Can I?” he said. Tim nodded, and Bernard gently peeled the mask away from Tim’s eyes. He leaned forwards, their foreheads brushing together.

“What was that for?” Tim asked.

“I wanted to see you,” Bernard said. He moved just enough for their lips to brush together, then pulled away. “I love you too, you know,” he whispered. 

Tim moved his hands up to cover Bernard’s. “Thank you,” he managed to say.

Bernard’s brows knit together. “For...”

Tim shook his head. There were so many things he wanted to say about Bernard, so many words that he could say, and yet his mind kept coming up blank. “Just for existing,” he finally said. It was the closest he could come to containing it all.

[pup-pee]

IM TYPING THIS IN HERE BC I AM SCARED OF TUMBLR DELEATEING A BUCNH OF TAGS AS BC I DN THE LIMIT KJSHA

BUT LIKE

bernards stuck in class so tims left along w/kon+bart hes just getting a bucnh of "save me" msgs the gc is mostly just opinting & laughing @ him bc "u knew this was going 2 happen U KNEW"

cissie, anita, & greta r trying 2 steal cassies phone bc she keeps giggling @ it((laugh @ ur friends pain)) cassie also continuously almost spilling is rlly silly, bc SHE COULD its not like shes legally binded but i think she finds enjoyment in keeping it away

eventually tho stephs jsut "alright bernard im gonna kidnap u its time 2 go save ur cringefail boy of a friend"

ALSO IM NOT SAYING KON & BART R STEAGHT up IGNORING TIM BUT LIKE yk, 3rd wheel moment when 2 ppl stand infront of u so u have 2 look over their shoulders

idk, steph would ask cass 2 steal a credit card so they can go shopping in the mall

bc YEAH 4 SOME REASON I WAS THINKING OF THE FAIR???? i have no idea my brain was thinking of some issues bleh belhebleh ANWYASY

EVENTALYL((1nce tim is saved)) cassie tells them whats hapepneing & the girlies r just like "wait free food if we go 2 the mall?" so now theres just a bunch of teens who r somehow adults in the mall & ngl Y R CITY MALLS SO BIG THEY R SO BIG LIKE Y IS IT WEDDING CAKE BIG???

then kon & bart would join just bc & look its a even # points points omg its an even #!

idk where my thoughts r going

this is a pretty tame idea im just kinda vomiting words that come 2 my brain like ah yes, i do think they would try 2 do a food challenge & FAIL

i do think they bought overpriced pieces of plastic((legos))

i do think they tried playing hide n go seek then realized they lost eachother so they instead spent the better amount of an hr just trying 2 find eachother

yes i do think they went 2 build a bear & all got a stuffie & put the stupidest msgs in them & named eachothers((they did 1 4 the others i dn how 2 fit that in this sentence)) BUT YES

OK IDK ASKLJHFJKHFK

anywho

cissie & tim wouldve won the hide n seek game just saying

see the only times ive like actually been in IN the mall like gone & just hung around was 4 scout events? so like, sleeping over @ the mall & whatnot

so

my like vision of whatever this is is a lil affecteed byt thatttt

ok i mena,,,,,wayne money,,,,,just rent out the entire mall /j /J PLS

listen, @ least their visit 2 the mall was better than the titans visit

the titans r banned((from this specific mall))

anwyays, many kisses were shared, they learned who can & rlly cant sing, & found out that the photo booth can in fact hold 8 ppl

sometimes!! You just gotta draw Conner Kent so that's what I did!!

(Outfit inspo down below because I found the skirt on Pinterest so like yeehaw-)

[incoherentbabblings]

5 + 48? Separate or in the same I don't mind, just like your writing.

Thank you for the ask! I went for fluff this time!

Birthday Ask Game!

5. “Don’t you love me?” + 48. “Why are you crying?”

It was risky, Tim knew. Steph didn’t take well to surprises, and she did not take well to being the centre of attention. Even when it was just her and Tim, gifts always were fifty-fifty in how they were received. She was never rude about anything he bought her, but he could tell when she was uncomfortable. Squirming with a smile that was more pain than joy, trying not to let her self-hatred win out over the fact that, uncomprehendingly, someone thought she was worth the effort of gift giving. She always reacted much more kindly to homemade gifts. Sentimentality.

It was the fifth year of them meeting. Tim thought he was off to a good start, even remembering such a date. Most men would not remember the day, month and even year of when they met their partner, Tim was sure. Stephanie had been living with him for pushing six months, and slowly her clothes, knick-knacks and furniture moved over. So had her stuffed toys. She had a somewhat sizable collection, though whenever Tim had asked her about it, her face had frozen somewhat.

“My dad used to buy me them,” she’d say, gaze turning resentful at the stuffed elephants and bears and cats and dogs. “With what money? I don’t know. Good times and bad. He’d never just give me the toy. He’d always make me beg for it. Which, when your five, yeah, it’s cute. Don’t you love me Steph? Say yes and you’ll get Mr. Brown. That kind of stuff. Less cute looking back.”

“Bartering affection,” Tim had said, voice distant in his empathy. He understood. Of course he did.

Stephanie had nodded, lips pressed together. “That’s why this one’s my fave.”

She’d reached across the room, pulling a leg out from under the pile of toys. “I keep them to spite him. But this one. This one mom got me.”

The most well-loved bear Tim had ever seen was passed over. Its fur was ratted, half melted as if accidentally left for too long on a heater or stovetop. One eye was barely hanging on, the glue only holding one edge down to the plastic fur. Its limbs were sadly deflated, and its head hung like its neck head had been broken. It was soft to the touch though. All things considered. Tim had looked at his girlfriend quizzically.

She’d sighed, fussing with the bear in Tim’s hands, ensuring it was being held correctly. “Dad had gone to jail. Again. We’d driven away from the courthouse, mom had looked so tired, so sad, and angry. She gave this huge sigh, I remember it in the backseat, then done a U-turn back down the road. She took me to some fancy toy shop in town and told me I could get one bear. Whatever I wanted. I don’t know how she afforded it. I’d never got to choose before. And I picked that one.” She’d smiled sweetly. “Only one she’s ever gotten me, but she said to me that… that it was her gift to me. Her apology. Her promise. She let so much wrong happen to me… but this was the first step. The first moment I thought…”

“It wouldn’t be that bad forever.”

“Right,” and her smile had wobbled, “and I was right. Poor thing has seen some shit, but it’s okay. Sustained through love.”

It was why, one week later, she had come to him, panicked.

“She’s missing,” she’d breathed, rushing around Tim and hunting. She’d thrown pillows across the living room, lifted furniture, rummaged through cupboards, even checked the washing machine.

“Who?” Tim had asked, sipping on his drink.

“Bagel Bear!”

Tim spat out his drink.

“Who?”

“My… Nevermind.” She’d flushed white, then left Tim choking on hot liquid. She’d been mopey the whole week, even patrol couldn’t lift her spirits. She was mourning the poor thing like it was a beloved family pet that had died.

It was why, Tim thought, his gift was risky. He wrapped his hand over her eyes on Friday night, a large cardboard box balancing precariously behind his back in his other hand.

“Guess who?”

“Conner!” she gasped joyfully. Sarcastically.

“Oh, screw you,” Tim grumbled when she burst out laughing. He planted himself next to her on the sofa and held out his gift. “Happy anniversary.”

“Huh?” She looked warily at the box, but dutifully took it.

“Been five years since the brick,” he said proudly.

“Oh! You didn’t need to.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I mean it. I didn’t remember. Still, thank you.”

Tim shifted, wound up and excited. “You haven’t even opened it.”

She held up her hands in deference, then slipped off the ribbon and took off the lid.

She froze, staring at the bear in box – the bear that Tim had taken to be restuffed and repaired to the best of the shop’s ability – and burst into tears.

The risk had not paid off, clearly.

“Hey! Hey, hey, hey, what, no! Why are you crying?”

“You had her fixed?” she sniffed, pressing the bear's tummy up to her nose, inhaling the smell of comfort.

“The way you spoke about him, she deserved a little tlc right?”

She nodded, eyes still hidden from Tim’s view, and loudly wept.

“Thank you!”

Tim suddenly had an armful of Stephanie Brown to hold, her own hands tightly wrapped around his shoulders and chest.

“You’re welcome,” he said simply. “I’m glad you like it.”

She played with the bear’s shiny black nose, smiling. “Lucky girl,” she whispered. To herself, or to the bear, Tim didn’t know. He kissed her forehead, and she jolted as a sudden thought came to her.

“I’ll need to show my mom!”

She scrambled off the sofa, grasping for her phone, video calling her mother, cheeks wet and eyes red. Tim watched, unable to stop himself from grinning. Stephanie held the bear up to her face, so that when Crystal answered, the first thing she would see was the fixed stuffed toy.

Crystal dutifully answered, then suddenly, there was the sound of two wailing Browns in the apartment.

[heleizition]

How Alfred interact with his shifter babies? Where is Barbara in all of this? Is she a shifter or human? Also, I want to know more about Tim's parents... How was they and how Tim ended up with batfamily?

ok hold on . .. i need a second . .. im thinking about alfred holding like, baby panther dick in hi arms n smilng softly,,, jst . .. give me a moment . ..... like ... hes cooking n hyerna jason who’s starting to grow jst sits beside him n tucks his head on the counter n looks at alfred like feed me and alfred is so so fond of his grandsons yk,,, of his family,,,, cries

OK SO beside that tim shifts from cat to human the first time with alfred,,, hes a safe adult in his eyes and he trusts him and its a trust alfred hasnt and wont ever betray. cass just likes to sit on his shoulder while he has tea,,, he makes her a cup and she flies over to drink when she feels like it but mostly she’s chilling. steph usually runs around and tries to pick things up to “help” alfred and he gives her lil pets,,,, duke usually feels like in the way when hes shifted and alfred is cleaning up or working around him so he usually shift back and helps and it makes alfred smile a lot even after he tries to shoo duke away bc thats His Job yk,,, duke still helps sefooefshofse

OK UM i admit i did not think of babs bc she always slips from my mind,,,, i dont have a big connection to her character,,,, im not sure if she’s a shifter yet i gotta think but i kinda feel  ,,, fox for her,,,,, if u have other suggestions im open ? i dont know much about her character sadly,,,,

OK SO under the cut is tim’s story n how he met and ended up w the bat, big tw for animal (shifter) abuse and child abuse, starvation, abandonment, umm mutilation & description of injury

tim first turned into a cat (to his parents knowledge) when he was about 4 or 5. he’d been already introduced to the world but as he was a small child they hadn’t really been showing him around everywhere so only a handful of people knew/remembered small boy tim. janet has a particular hate toward that branch in her family that can shift so she’s really jst. hating her son having it and she immediately just. decides that she just doesnt want to see him. so jack and her just start locking him in a tiny cat cage, which prevent him from turning back into a boy, feed him catfood when they remember to feed him. at some point they get him declawed (which gives him terribly vivid nightmares of human him getting his fingers torned off of his hand) and when they leave they give him a tight collar while leaving him out of the cage which prevnts him from shifting back bc the collar would just go through tim’s throat if he shifted to human.

so tim drake ends up . not existing. everyone forgets the drakes had a son, tim very rarely gets to be in human shape (which hurts at some point), and when he does his parents usually yell at him and making him feel very unwanted, going as far as throwing things at him until he jst, shifts back and makes himself as small and forgotten as possible. he stopped going to school early, but he still taught himself to read (u gotta do smth when ur stuck as a cat for years) and went through lots of his parents books (that were on bottoms shelfs bc its hard to put the books back in the right shelves while in cat form and he gets yelled at enough as it is just for existing).

so he’s like 10, and his parents have been gone for a while . and he’s rly not doing good. he’s not rly clinging to life. he’s underfed. everything hurts. his brain isn’t really reactive anymore. and hes on the wall between the drakes and the wayne’s estate dick and jason are in the garden, playing around, and he just. falls asleep. passes out from exhaustion and his body kind of giving up on him.

they hear him or see him, idk, they find him and jason shifts back, holding the small kitten in his arms and he runs inside, n they take care of him, the adress on the collar said he’s from next door,,, at this point they dont know he’s a shifter,, but when he wakes up tim’s all warm and tucked against a warm body (dick) and jason is beside them petting him gently and the second tim is awake he’s tense and trying to get away bc humans have done nothing but hurt him at this point yk,, he’s barely ever met anyone,,, he sticks to the drake’s house bc he’s terrified they’ll know if he goes somewhere else

(altho deep down he thinks they’d be happy if they came home to an empty house)

and when he wakes up. thats when dick n jay understand he’s not just a cat, he’s a shifter, n jason holds him in place to remove the collar bc he *knows* he cant possibly be able to shift to human with it,,, but even without it tim doesnt shift back, hes jst, scared cat,,,,

(”hey, it’s ok, we’re like you” jason says, in the most gentle voice dick’s ever heard him use. there is a moment of silence, where the kitten blinks, and then the familiar noise of flesh rearranging itself while jason shifts into his hyena form. he’s careful to keep his distance, laying on his stomach to make himself smaller - which helps, but not by much as he’s still huge compared to the little shifter in front of them. dick knows the lines of tension and those of exhaustion in their muscles, and remembers how they didn’t even stir when jason had carried them inside. he shifts. 

“i’m gonna get you some food, okay ?” he levels his tone with his brothers. “we should have some fruits around, upstairs. fish maybe ? if you’d like ? or something else.” he smiles that smiles only he knows how to smile. “or maybe you’d like to pick yourself ?”

the little cat manages to make themselves smaller.)

they eventually manage to feed him and hydrate him, and dick tells alfred and bruce about the little shifter while jason keeps an eye on him,,, bruce connect the drake and tim shaped dots. he remembers janet and jack rejecting a gala invitation a while back bc she had recently delivered, only he’d never seen the kid.

tim only lets jason and dick close a first, bc they’re younger, bc they’re shifters, and then alfred bc alfred always brings him food on a plate and with a fork and knife like he’s going to use them as a human. he talks to tim and pets him gently once tim allows it,,, he’s a safe adult.

bruce scares him a lot, even if he’s gentle and he’s a good dad. he’s bigger than jack has ever been, and he knows he could hurt him. he just scares him a lot. he has too much authority, too much presence.

tim shifts back into a human on is seventh day at the manor, while alfred sits with him in a little room tim had hid in. he’s a very small boy and he cries out in pain when he shifts, but alfred puts a hand on his cheek and just smiles

(”hello, my boy”)

tim is very quiet, takes a shower and shifts back before anyone else can see him,,, but slowly he lets it happen around the others. one time dick n jay wake up from a nap session to a little boy suggled between them,,, there is a lot of hurt and pain from jason bc he’s been that little boy, hurt and scared and in pain, and it brings back a lot of sad things,,,

eventually he lets himself shift into bruce’s arms on the second week and he cries a lot n bruce tells him he figured out he’s the drake’s son, and jst, h, he adopts

[xatanna-troy]

Robins.

I was thinking bout how different parts of the fandom say that x Robin is a little shit and then I just???

All the robins have collectively taken 20 years of Bruce’s lifespan??????

Dick Grayson being the little shit that he is went and started swinging from chandeliers and said “fuk u old man I wanna be a superhero too” all while doing various stunts and getting into trouble that no nine year old should be able to do. (This was even worse because it was the first time Bruce-ALFRED DICK FELL ON HIS FACE WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO IM PANICKING-Wayne ever handled a child)

Jason comes along and the first thing he does is try to steal tires from the bat mobile cause “In this society we gotta steal from whomever. Whether they’re a stick up billionaire or a stuck up billionaire dressed a bat.” He becomes Robin and then holy shit dick did so much I have to live up to that! Bruce is just like NO!1!1! HE DID SO MUCH BUT IT WAS A PAIN IN THE ASS PLEASE DONT DO IT!!

Timothy drake arrives and by god did Bruce think of retiring. This tiny smol boy comes up to him and tells him he figured out his identity and goes on to be Robin. And while the man was relieved that thank god he isn’t like dick and Jason; Timbers comes and sets his own standard for how to fuck with Bruce.

Stephanie was no less on following the “kill Bruce before he makes to old age” legacy of the robins. The girl had a knack for getting into all sorts of trouble and still wanting to go kick some bad guys asses. It was a constant state of “steph—Robin please go home you have school tomorrow” and “did you SEE how fast that guy ran?! Come on Batman! To the batmobile!1!1”

(Steph’s the reason Bruce keeps a bottle of water and some Advil in the glove compartment of the batmobile)

Bruce thought that Damian would be more responsible. Being raised by talia and probably missing out on his mischief phase. But ooohhh nooo. His brothers were there to make sure he upheld the legacy. Damian, being the little demon he is, added every cynical thought he had to every little scheme he did. The kid showed no remorse for chopping someone’s head off, so expecting him to feel bad for giving Bruce mini heart attacks was like trying to get Tim to get some goddamn sleep. It wasn’t going to happen.

Despite it all, Bruce will never admit that he’d rather have half of his lifespan taken away then have anything happen to his kids. I mean they all died once ain’t nobody in a bat costume gonna let them die again. (Yes death is also apparently a Robin tradition)

[nokomiss]

U and the whole BatFam. Thanx!

The battle finished, Bruce led the way to the plane.  They’d all arrived separately -- with the Justice League, Titans, Young Justice, and others -- but without a word they all knew they were leaving together.  Cass trailed along after Bruce, muscles still thrumming from exertion.  

She settled in next to Steph on the plane, Tim on her other side.  Steph was practically buzzing with excitement; she’d fought well and she knew it. Cass pulled off her mask and high fived her.  Tim leaned his head back and relaxed, the tension that had been radiating off him throughout the battle -- worry for everyone’s safety, concern about leading his friends, fretting about the ankle he’d twinged early in the fight -- melting away as the jet took off. 

They were safe -- the threat was gone, the earth safe from destruction, and they were together. One of Cass’s favorite things was seeing how much softer everyone looked when they were together. Sometimes wary, sometimes-- prickly, filled with ragged emotions -- but always safe. 

Damian was beside Dick across from them, pulling away as Dick checked him for injuries, loudly narrating his actions to the rest of the plane. That was for Bruce’s benefit -- Cass knew how much they worried for Damian.  

“Just bruises and scrapes,” Dick proclaimed proudly, digging into a med kit for bandages to put on the aforementioned scrapes, cheerfully offering Damian the choice between Superman or Wonder Woman bandaids. 

Damian scowled, refusing to choose, so Cass chose for him, reaching into a pouch on her utility belt and handing Dick two Batgirl bandaids.  Steph had stocked it for her, and it had made Babs smile when she saw Cass decorate her scraped knees and busted knuckles with them.  

Jason laughed and snagged the Wonder Woman bandaid to stick on a cut over his eyebrow, using his phone’s selfie mode to apply the bandaid properly. Duke leaned into the frame for a pic, and Steph, unable to resist, threw her arms over both their shoulders, flashing a peace sign as Jason took another pic.  No one wore masks; Bruce would call it a security risk, but Cass knew that Babs kept a special folder full of images of them all being silly in costume.  Good memories, to counteract the bad.

Damian accepted the Batgirl bandages with minimal grumbling, and Cass patted his head lightly. 

“Good fight,” she said, and watched him light up.  

Damian flourished under praise, especially from those he knew could better him -- he’d once told her he’d grown up hearing about her, sometimes even being compared to her.  The thought settled oddly within her -- pride in her abilities, that everything she’d gone through had been respected by those who had inflicted it upon her, warring with the knowledge that it hadn’t been worth it, that she deserved more, that Damian had deserved more.

The exhausted silence in the jet was comfortable as everyone cataloged minor wounds. Tim was pulling off his boot to put a wrap around his ankle, Steph casually picking bits of gravel out of her elbow, where a hard hit had sent her sliding and had ripped through her costume.  Dick had stopped fussing over Damian long enough to notice that his leg was bleeding, and Jason -- having already bandaged his only visible wound -- was crouched beside him, squirting antiseptic into the wound with no small amount of glee as Dick winced.  

Damian, noticing this, immediately struck, giving Jason a sharp jab in the side intended to make him lose his balance, which he did, leaving him on his ass while Damian snickered.  Jason made a face at him, but Cass could tell that he was proud that Damian was acting like a real boy, as they tended to say.

Cass wondered if she acted like a real girl enough. 

Duke was rubbing his shoulder, and Cass went to him. “I’ll help?”

Duke nodded, and Cass lifted his arm, moved it, watching for both his reaction and the feel of the muscle and bone under her touch. It wasn’t a bad injury, likely a strain, and she pressed a few likely spots that would ease the pain until he could tend to it. Relief and gratitude radiated from him, and Cass smiled.  

Her own injuries were insignificant, a few twinges and pulls that reminded her that she was alive.  

She moved to the front of the plane, checking on Bruce -- piloting with seeming full attention, though she could see that his attention truly was on his family. It was rare that they were together without true tension.  She laid a hand on his shoulder. 

“I’m fine,” Bruce told her, his voice a soft, comforting rumble. He was telling the truth -- he was sore, and would favor his right side for a few days, but nothing was causing him true pain.  Cass squeezed his shoulder, pressed a kiss to the top of one of the bat ears of his cowl, which he still wore.  He couldn’t feel it, but the action made him smile, which brought a fizzly sort of happiness to her.  

Babs was in the copilot’s seat, feet propped up on the dash and a tablet clutched in her hands.  Cass could see that she was sorting through the information from the fight, trying to figure out how to stop a battle like that from happening again.  She was always thinking five steps ahead, Babs and Bruce were far more similar than either were willing to admit. Cass could read the lines of Babs’ shoulders and knew that she was fine but worried about something she’d discovered, but Cass thought that it could wait until after everyone had slept and eaten.

That was a lesson she’d learned early: there was always another battle looming in the future, and you had to take moments of peace where you could find them.

She returned back to her seat, dropping lightly beside Steph, who offered her half of the candy bar she was eating. Cass took it happily, especially when Tim protested that Steph hadn’t been willing to share with him.  Both their eyes held an undercurrent of teasing-happy-affection.

Steph shrugged, cheerfully unapologetic, while Cass smugly took an extra large bite.  Damian, never one to miss an opportunity to mess with Tim, held a hand out and asked Steph for some of her toothrot, please.

Steph broke off another piece and handed it to him, and Damian looked Tim straight in the eye as he shoved the whole thing in his mouth.  Jason cackled at Tim’s expression -- Cass loved seeing joy on him, it seemed to lift an invisible weight off his shoulders -- while Dick opened a compartment on the back of his seat and unearthed gummy worms, which he immediately shared with Tim.

“How long have these been in there?” Tim said doubtfully, though he took them anyway.

“I mean, does it matter?” Dick replied with the tone of someone who had no idea how old the candy actually was, taking a handful and tossing the bag to Jason, clearly had no intentions of sharing the rest with anyone.  Duke leaned over his shoulder and snagged a few, earning a swat from Jason and a small smile and shake of the head from Bruce when he tried to give him a gummy worm. Babs took it instead, saluting Dick with it before eating.

“Dibs on the aux!” Steph called out as the candy ran out, pulling out her phone and scrolling through her music.

“There is no aux,” Jason pointed out. “I’ve tried so many times to get Bruce to--”

He cut himself off abruptly as music began piping through the speakers cheerfully.  Steph stuck her tongue out at Jason and said, “You’re just cranky because I called dibs.”

“That is totally unfair. Bruce, tell her she can’t hijack the speakers with this garbage.”

“She didn’t, I did,” Babs called out from the front. 

Jason grumbled, while Cass giggled.  In the pilot’s seat, Bruce’s body language showed the rest of the family annoyance and exasperation, but she could see that it was carefully choreographed.  Really, he was happy -- happy to be surrounded by his family, relieved that they were unharmed, joyous to hear laughter and bickering.

Content.

Around her, her family continued to throw jabs and jokes at each other, giddy with being alive and well as the adrenaline wore off.  Cass ignored the words in favor of what they were actually saying with their bodies -- they were safe, they were happy, they were at home with each other.

She curled up in her seat, knees pressed gently into Steph’s side, letting the moment wash over her.  When they arrived in Gotham they would go their separate ways, but right now-- right now, things were perfect.

[dottie-wan-kenobi]

I loveeee all the songs u chose for Tim!!! Can u maybe do a post or smth explaining why cus it’s so interesting seeing the choice behind these songs

Hi yes I can!! I’m not gonna do all of them here (I can def do the rest if you’d like!!) bc that’s just a Lot all at once lol. Also I might have typos and I apologize but dkjsfhakh I have bandaids on my fingers and it’s hard to type :^/

Disclaimer: some of these songs fit a lot better than other ones

Hard Times by Paramore

I chose this song bc it’s abbout being sad, but the tone is upbeat and happy. Something I’ve noticed abt Tim is that he is (usually) functionally depressed. Like, I read an article about high functioning depression, and it said that a lot of people who have it have a hole in their life – that they can have a job (and Tim does, being either CEO or Red Robin or both), a partner (who I like to think of as Kon), and be part of a family, maintaining this happy/upeat facade, but if you ask them what they do for fun…they usually can’t answer that. And I don’t think Tim can. When he was younger, he could, but what now? 

Fave Lyric: “Walking around / With my little rain cloud / Hanging over my head/ And it ain’t coming down / Where do I go? / Gimme some sort of sign / You hit me with lightning! / Maybe I’ll come alive”

Little Lion Man by Mumford & Sons

I chose this bc I can picture Tim, during a low moment like when Kon or Bruce died, just falling apart and thinking he’s not going to survive it, isn’t strong enough, had something to do with their deaths happening,,, etc. Also there’s a line that references anxiety and like lmao that’s Tim!

Fave Lyric: “Tremble for yourself, my man, / You know that you have seen this all before / Tremble, little lion man, / You’ll never settle any of your scores / Your grace is wasted in your face, / Your boldness stands alone among the wreck / Now learn from your mother or else spend your days biting your own neck”

Heroes (we could be) by Alesso feat. Tove Lo

I chose this bc Tim needed a happy song and also because this has such Young Justice vibes !!!! This is Tim and his friends having fun, roaming around, kicking bad guy ass together!! Actually upon looking at the lyrics again, it’s both YJ and Batman & Robin. It just encompasses Tim’s early days of being a hero I think, the happy carefree nature and the bravery and the hope

Fave Lyric: “Everyday people do everyday things but I / Can’t be one of them / I know you hear me now, we are a different kind / We can do anything”

Burn The House Down by AJR

Tbh I mostly chose this bc its a bop and I think he would sing along to it. BUT I also think this kind of represents his life as a public figure/celeb??? And if I wanna go even further, I think it could represent him when he’s older and more confident, with a better self esteem and maybe a lil less depressed (which I hope is in the cards for his future). Also it talks about lying a lot???? I’m sorry, I don’t have a good analysis for this one lmao

Fave Lyric: “Way up way up we go / Been up and down that road / Way up way up, oh no / We gon’ burn the whole house down / Watch me stand in the line / You’re only serving lies / You’ve got something to hide / We gon’ burn the whole house down”

Don’t Let Me Down by The Chainsmokers feat. Daya

I chose this bc it reminded me of Tim and Dick. I’m of the opinion that Tim getting fired from Robin was the right choice and that Dick wasn’t being cruel or anything like that at all, but I also think that Tim probably saw it that way which is valid. So it’s like, to him, Dick was his big brother who was basically always there for him, and then suddenly… he’s not. And everything else going on in his life starts to suck dramatically, and not having his big brother makes it worse, and he feels betrayed. Meanwhile Dick really is on his side, life is just also terrible for him too so they can’t be as close as they were when Tim was Robin. It can also be about Bruce or Kon tbh – just, wanting one of them to be there and they’re not.

Fave Lyric: “Crashing, hit a wall / Right now I need a miracle / Hurry up now, I need a miracle / Stranded, reaching out / I call your name but you’re not around”

More under the cut!!

Don’t Play by Halsey

This…. I chose this bc I really love the celebrity versions of the Bats, and also how competent Tim can be, and this song brings both of those together. Lol this could also be like…what other people think the Bats/Tim think like?? “Don’t play with me, I’m rich and will fuck you up” kinda thing. This is one of the ones that fits less well than the others but I still get Tim vibes from it so I’m keeping it

Fave Lyric: “Tryna take back what you say to me / I don’t give a damn what you say to me / There ain’t no time for games with me”

Over My Head (Cable Car) by The Fray

I get the feeling that after bad shit happens to Tim, he feels the way this song shows. I haven’t read much YJ so I can’t be sure, but I get the feeling that Tim, no matter what the truth is, feels like he’s alone and there’s no one who will help him. Obviously that can be tied back to his childhood and how he had to take care of himself, and so when there are people who actually do wanna help him he doesn’t see it?? And he’s down on himself so he’s probably thinking “they don’t want to help me, and I can’t blame them”

Fave Lyric: “But that’s how it’s got to be / It’s coming down to nothing more than apathy / I’d rather run the other way than stay and see / The smoke and who’s still standing when it clears” 

Icarus by Bastille

Okay not so much the drinking aspect of this song but EVERYTHING ELSE. I even used one of the lyrics for a fic title. Basically my thoughts here are: 1) everyone looks to the Robins and sees how much they do and it’s just A Lot, 2) Tim knows Jason died and so he probably thinks that’s in his future too even if Dick survived, and 3) Tim is doing a lot and feeling a lot and trying to protect himself and his feelings, which is hard work especially for someone so young

Fave Lyric: “Living beyond your years / Acting out all their fears / You feel it in your chest”

Needed Me by Rihanna

Again,,,, the Competence. I love that shit. I love BAMF!Bats, and tbh I think this could apply to more than just Tim, but I picked it for him bc of the first lyric!! This is also one of those ones that doesn’t fit super well but djkhfjkdshah I think this could really fit an AU Tim where he’s like. More morally gray. Not necessarily a bad guy but just more confident, more arrogant maybe, and more jaded from the hero-ing life

Fave Lyric: “I was good on my own, that’s the way it was, that’s the way it was / You was good on the low for a faded fuck, on some faded love / Shit, what the fuck you complaining for? / Feeling jaded, huh?”

What I’ve Done by Linkin Park

Okay I think this fits a lot of different things: his actions after Kon’s death, his and Damian’s relationship, the lies he’s told (to ppl like Steph, his dad, Tam?), his relationship with Bruce maybe?? I can also see it as him thinking on who he was as a kid – a stalker basically lmao, but ultimately harmless – versus who he is now – a skilled vigilante who’s definitely not harmless. Stark difference there. Also he’s forgiving himself, which is something I think is important for somebody with a low self view

Fave Lyric: “In this farewell / There’s no blood / There’s no alibi / ‘Cause I’ve drawn regret / From the truth / Of a thousand lies”

Tell Me You Love Me by Demi Lovato

I chose this because I think Tim is fucked up by the neglect he suffered in his childhood. I think parts of this song can be directed at his parents, the Batfam, his partner(s). He’s afraid that they’ll leave him and he needs the reassurance. Whether or not he gets it is another matter but kdsjfjkdsah. Really, I think this is all just what he’s thinking, and NOT what he’s saying. He needs the reassurance, yes, but he’s not actually asking for it because he doesn’t know how

Fave Lyric: “Bad at love, no, I’m not good at this”

bellyache by Billie Eilish

When I first added this to his playlist I somehow didn’t realize it was about a murderer but dkjfhkjshjkah whatever I’m keeping it. Let’s just go with this is a song about being fucked up (in whatever sense u wanna take that as) and it’s not happy? But like the first one, it’s upbeat and positive. I think the happy sound hiding the less pretty truth is something that explains Tim a lot. Also its a bop and he might sing along to it

Fave Lyric: “Everything I do / The way I wear my noose / Like a necklace / I wanna make ‘em scared / Like I could be anywhere / Like I’m reckless”

Migraine by Twenty One Pilots

Just Another Song About Tim’s Abysmal Mental Health

Fave Lyric: “Behind my eyelids are islands of violence / My mind ship-wrecked / This is the only land my mind could find / I did not know it was such a violent island / Full of tidal waves, suicidal crazed lions / They’re trying to eat me, blood running down their chin / And I know that I can fight or I can let the lion win / I begin to assemble what weapons I can find / 'Cause sometimes to stay alive you gotta kill your mind”

Fake Love by Drake

I hate Drake but kjdsfkjdsfhajh this goes back to a few things. His celebrity and how he’s seen/treated differently by others because of it, his low self view and the paranoia that people aren’t really there for him no matter what the truth might be, how he sees things others wouldn’t, his relationships with people like Damian and Bruce. I think he’s more forgiving than this song would imply, so maybe this is also for that AU Tim I mentioned above???

Fave Lyric: “I’ve been down so long it look like up to me / They look up to me / I got fake people showin’ fake love to me / Straight up to my face, straight up to my face”

Six Feet Under by Billie Eilish

TIMKON TIMKON TIMKON. Post Kon’s death TimKon and Tim is grieving and trying to forget bc it’s so painful!!!!!!

Fave Lyric: “Our love is six feet under / I can’t help but wonder / If our grave was watered by the rain / Would roses bloom? / Could roses bloom / Again?”

Flaws by Bastille

Idek, I feel like this could be how he could view his relationship with Steph, Cass, Damian, Bart, Dick??? Anyone? Just feeling like he hides his flaws and how he feels, and they don’t really (or at least, he thinks they don’t), and he likes that.

Fave Lyric: “There’s a hole in my soul / I can’t fill it, I can’t fill it / There’s a hole in my soul / Can you fill it? Can you fill it?”

do re mi by blackbear

I’m mostly joking when I say this but this is how he feels about Ra’s al Ghul. It doesn’t fit exactly, bc Tim and Ra’s were NOT together ever at any point, but this song is about being annoyed by someone you have a history with and wishing you’d never known them. Which is how I feel Tim should feel about Ra’s. lol

Fave Lyric: “If I could go back to that day we met / I probably would’ve stayed in bed / You wake up everyday and make me feel like I’m incompetent”

Bored by Billie Eilish

I really think this is Tim talking to his parents. Like, when he’s a kid, or when he’s older and looking back, he’s thinking “I did everything I could, it wasn’t enough, and I know it’s not fair but I can’t do anything about it.” I think this song is supposed to be romantic but I’ve never heard it that way skdjfkjsdhakjh I just always think about Tim, home alone and thinking about his parents.

Fave Lyric: “I’m not afraid anymore / What makes you sure you’re all I need? / Forget about it / When you walk out the door and leave me torn / You’re teaching me to live without it / Bored, I’m so bored, I’m so bored, so bored”

Rose-Colored Boy by Paramore

This one is like… everyone else seems to have an easier time being optimistic and positive than Tim does, in his mind. Idk I don’t have much to say kdsjfhsdjkah

Fave Lyric: “Hearts are breaking, wars are raging on / And I have taken my glasses off / You got me nervous / I’m right at the end of my rope / A half-empty girl / Don’t make me laugh, I’ll choke”

King of the Clouds by Panic! At The Disco

This is mostly because it’s a bop and Tim would like it. But also…this is a song about dimensional travel (apparently) and having ambitions that seem lofty, both of which I think Tim can definitely understand!! 

Fave Lyric: “And when I fall to rise with stardust in my eyes / In the backbone of night, I’m combustible / Dust in the fire when I can’t sleep a wink, I’m too tired / This old world, this old world”

[stephcialties]

did i do this in a three am manic fit ?? maybe. but i ask you indulge me for the sake of my sanity. 

:･ﾟ✧ * ˏˋ / hi, sorry to disturb you, but can you tell me where the office for ANDREA IBARRA AGUILAR is? y’know, SHE’S the 22-YEAR-OLD CISFEMALE PUBLISHING INTERN here at Masters? kinda’ looks like BECKY GOMEZ if you squint? one of the guys over at I.T. said SHE is CONFIDENT and CREATIVE but IMPETUOUS and FLIPPANT, does that ring a bell? i have HER coffee order right her.

𝕓𝕒𝕔𝕜𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕 !!

first of all, drea wants to butt in and inform you that it’s ahn-drea not an-drea––and if that’s too difficult for you to remember, just call her drea.

clearly, this attitude stems from somewhere, and it’s from being the baby of her family of six. she’s her daddy’s little princess, her momma’s only daughter, and her three brothers’ pain in the ass to be overbearingly overprotective of. 

simple put, she’s spoiled rotten and was doted upon from the moment she was born.

her dad, alejandro ibarra, is a well-known photographer, and he met her mother, teresa aguilar, through his work. she wasn’t a model (( though drea thinks she’s the most beautiful women to grace the face of the earth )); she was a painter with dreams bigger than her tiny frame could contain. 

however, teresa gave them up when she conceived her first child (( drea’s oldest brother )). she settled down with alejandro in los angeles and raised four kids while her husband traveled to world to take his pictures, but he always brought back fun, little trinkets for both his girls. drea has quite the collection of silks, and gems, and postcards from all over the world––and she won’t get rid of any of them. 

her mom insists that she was happy to give up painting to take care of her family, but, as drea got older and developed a passion for the arts herself, she couldn’t imagine giving it up for anything. 

she worked really hard in school so that she could get into the rhode island school of design (( her father’s donation of some of his first works didn’t hurt either )). 

college was the furthest she’d been from home, and at first drea was totally freaking out about it...and then she realized it was the first time she was away from her parents’ prying eyes, and she went a little wild. well, wilder.  

despite getting an internship at masters, she stayed wild with no plans on changing. 

𝕡𝕖𝕣𝕤𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝𝕚𝕥𝕪 !!

drea can definitely be a huge brat because she was coddled her whole life, but. well, that’s it. she’s a brat lmao. 

but she’s lots of fun, too !! she’s a total adrenaline junkie, and she’s always coming up with different stunts to pull for the rush of it all.

she didn’t start dating until college bc her brothers scared all the boys and girls away, but she more than made up for it once she got started. a late bloomer, so to speak. 

she doesn’t really do ‘boyfriends’ or ‘girlfriends’ tho because she’s not about the hard work and trust of commitment. 

she’s simultaneously a people person and not at the same time. like she loves having a good time with u, but she doesn’t want to deal with ur emotional baggage lmao. i told you; she’s a brat. 

this means she has a lot of “friends” but only one or two actual friends. 

she’s really into art like i mentioned before, partially because it’s in her blood and partially because she can’t ever imagine doing something boring for the rest of her life. 

aka she’s always got paint or ink somewhere on her.

she’s kind of (and i hate this word w/ a passion, but it’s universal at this point) a tomboy, but like to her it’s just hobbies. like why assign a gender to skateboarding, punk music, and ripped jeans ??

needless to say, she has no time for your gendered bullshit. 

she’s also a giant nerd. she got into comics and video games for the graphics and stayed for characters. her fav heroes are jason todd and steph brown bc i’m fake and i need to talk about them ic bc i have problem. 

her fav video game is def persona 5 royal bc the graphics and the music are the Shit tm.  

swears like a fucking sailor and doesn’t apologize for it. unless her parents are around. then, she’s an angel. in fact, her parents have no idea about her par-tay lyfe, and drea is frantic to keep it that way bc she wants to still be her parents’ lil princess. 

𝕨𝕒𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕟𝕟𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤 !!

best friend: ( m, f, nb ), squad ( m, f, nb), childhood friends: ( m, f, nb ), roommates: ( m, f, nb ), fwb: (m, f, nb), casual hookups ( m, f, nb), ex: ( m, f, nb )

all the connections tbh. hmu or like this and i’ll hit you up !!

[camsthisky]

I donated under Sheillagh O :) I'm such a sucker for deaging, can u do a deaged Damian (like back to being like a couple months old), only B, Dick, and Alfred are in the manor with him, and it's such a bittersweet few days. And Dick and Bruce have this quiet moment when Dami is asleep or something where they're both feeling Dad Emotions(TM) about not being able to raise him (or something similar, like just those bittersweet Angst Feels about baby Dami from his basically two dads) :)

sorry it’s taking me so long to get through these but thank you so much for donating!

cerusee’s gofundme page - please donate if you’re able to

There’s a quiet in the manor that has Bruce unsettled.

It used to be if the manor was quiet, things were—maybe not right, but it definitely meant he was awake and alive. The only sounds to be heard was Alfred moving through the rooms one by one, cleaning and cooking and looking after Bruce’s well-being, even when Bruce didn’t appreciate it.

That all changed in the days after Dick arrived at the manor. The once quiet walls resounded with sound, and the manor has been full of a strange liveliness ever since that eight year old boy flipped in Bruce’s life and Bruce’s home.

And as the years went by, the quiet became strange. More children wiggled their way into Bruce’s heart, and he’d found himself with more kids and less quiet than he knew how to deal with. The longer the halls were silent, the more it meant something was wrong.

When Bruce silently enters the living room, Dick’s asleep on the couch, head tilted back and soft snores crackling in the back of his throat, brought on by exhaustion. Bruce wants to tuck him in, but the bundle in Dick’s arms stops him.

The other kids are all gone. Jason and Steph and Babs dispersed somewhere throughout the city, doing their own things. Tim is with his team. Cass is back in Hong Kong. Duke is visiting some friends. Alfred is out getting more supplies.

And Damian.

Damian is wrapped up in blankets, held in Dick’s arms, twelve years younger than he’d been two days ago.

Bruce has no new leads on how to bring Damian back to his original age, and they’ve found they can do nothing but wait until Zatanna is able to stop by and help them figure out the situation. Unfortunately, neither Dick nor Bruce are equipped to deal with a baby that’s not even a year old.

But neither are willing to give up on Damian. They’re trying their best.

Dick stirs slightly when Bruce drapes a blanket over his lap and pulls sleeping baby out of Dick’s arms.

“Wha’s?” Dick mumbles, blearily blinking up at Bruce. He tenses suddenly, but then his eyes travel from Bruce’s face to the baby in Bruce’s arms, and he deflates, his eyes fluttering shut again. “Oh. ‘S just you.”

“When’s the last time you slept.”

“Dunno.”

“Go sleep in a proper bed,” Bruce tells him quietly. “I can handle him for a few hours.”

Dick groans quietly. “He’s just gonna scream again.”

Dick’s probably right. Despite his age, Damian has kicked up a fuss every time Dick’s been out of his sight for more than a few minutes. It’s given both of them headaches, but Dick’s been stubbornly pushing through his exhaustion to make sure that Damian doesn’t scream himself hoarse.

“Bed, Dick,” Bruce says again. “I’ll go with you, but you need to sleep.”

Dick hums. “Sounds nice.”

“I can’t carry both of you.”

“Liar,” Dick huffs, smile playing at his lips as he cracks an eye open. “You totally could. I know for a fact that you carried both Tim, Cass, and Jason in that family game-a-thon that you organized.”

Bruce raises an eyebrow. “If I remember correctly, you organized that.”

“You have no proof.”

“I’m getting tired of repeating myself.”

“And I’m getting tired of your face.” Dick pauses, his eyebrows creasing and his eyes fully opening. “I sound like Jason.”

“Dick.”

Dick stretches and pushes himself to his feet, only stumbling once on the way up the stairs and into Bruce’s bedroom. They settle on the bed—Dick under the covers, curled up with his head pressing against the outside of Bruce’s thigh like he’s ten years old again.

Bruce is careful not to jostle the delicate cargo in his arms. He doesn’t want to deal with the consequences of accidentally waking Damian up. And he doesn’t want Dick to deal with the consequences. They’ll both end up staying awake another couple hours, and Dick doesn’t look like he can afford that right now.

“I miss him,” Dick says into the dim light of the room. “’S too quiet around here.”

Bruce grunts.

Dick snorts. “Eloquent.”

“I was agreeing.”

“Really? Couldn’t tell. It sounded too much like your stop-annoying me-Dick grunt.”

Bruce doesn’t sigh, but it’s a close thing. All he feels is fond, though, so he prods, “You miss him?”

Dick makes a noise of agreement. “Damian is a pain in my ass but I’d rather he be a thirteen year old pain in my ass.”

Bruce stares down at Damian. “He’s cute when he’s asleep.”

“He’s not when he’s awake.”

“Hrn.”

“I guess one or thirteen, he never really changes, though. Still got a set of lungs on him.”

“Did you get peas thrown at you again?”

Dick sighs forlornly. “I thought I could get him to eat it this time.”

“Dick,” Bruce says, and this time the fondness comes through in his voice, “Damian won’t do anything he doesn’t want to do, regardless of how old he is. He’s still Damian.”

“And that’s why we love him,” Dick breathes out. “But I miss having the chance to spend time with the kid where we can just sit in each other’s spaces and be. Or patrolling together. Sometimes I like to sit and read in his room while he draws, and it’s nice way to relax.”

Bruce is quiet a moment before he voices what’s been on his mind the last day and a half.

“And if he’s stuck like this?”

Dick snorts. “What else? We raise him, and he’ll still be Damian, and maybe he’ll remember what we’ve been through, but I’m still going to miss that thirteen year old brat that drives me crazy.”

Bruce stares at his sons. One in his twenties and the other just a tiny baby, and he wonders how he’d gotten so lucky to have the two of them. To have Cass and Tim and Jason and Duke, too. And Stephanie and Babs and Alfred. He wonders what he did right.

And then his eyes drift to Dick’s peaceful, sleeping expression, and his heart clenches, because back then, all those years ago, he’d seen a boy who’d been just like him, and he’d made a choice, and it must have been the right one.

And of course, he’d jump at the chance to have been able to raise Damian from birth, but Dick’s right. With Damian as he is now, there’s nothing in his head of what they’ve been through together in the past, and he does miss that thirteen year old grumpy child that is so much like him, and yet has the potential to be so much better with Dick prodding him along in the right direction.

“We’ll get you back,” Bruce whispers to the baby, so small in his large arms. “And if we don’t, you’re still part of our family, Damian.”

[laughingupfromhell]

I’ve never done a follow forever before, so I figured it was about time. Below are some of the people who have had an impact on my life, whether they’ve become some of my best friends over the years, made me feel less alone, made me laugh, or simply brightened up my dash, I love each and every one of you. The blogs in bold are people I consider good friends and/or who I love more than my own life.

@taybigail - EMILY. My OG. I’m so glad I messaged you that day in October 2015. Little did I know then you’d become one of the most important people in my life. You’re the little sister I never knew I wanted, and even though we can drive each other crazy, I love you with my entire heart. There’s no one else I would’ve picked to make so many memories with. From Disney trips to almost dying in Nashville to dancing in Atlanta and all of our inside jokes, you’re one of the people who make me smile most in the world. It’s crazy to think we’ve spoken every single day for 794 days. Here’s to a lifetime of adventures together. Tag.

@cages-boxes-hunters-foxes - JAIME. My OG #2. From glitchy chatrooms to twitter group messages to texting nearly every day. What a glow up we’ve had (yours was a tad bit better than mine though, Miss Secret Session). Remember when no one knew who we were? You’re my Taylor information hub and my social media queen, so I guess that means I’m supposed to salute to you. It’s been great having emo hour for the past two years with you. Let’s keep that up.

@lskbe - LINDSEY.  We became friends because you got in a fight with someone while defending Calvin. In hindsight, the other chick was right, but I’m eternally grateful I gained your friendship out of that shit show. Who else would I scream about song lyrics and go through nervous breakdowns about Taylor Swift with? I look forward to telling you to “SHUT” for a very long time, because you’re stuck with me. ily.

@screamedsooloud - DANIELLE. The token Australian. My fellow olive lover. You are one of the most fiercely loyal friends I’ve ever had. And the funniest. Moose World Tour will live in infamy...even if we were the only ones to understand why it was so goddamn funny. Thank you for being unapologetically you, despite what others may say or think. I’ve never met a more authentic person. Taylor isn’t the only one who goes to you when she needs to smile. I do too. 

@thesethingswillchange - STEPH. You’re the sweetest person on the planet and deserving of all the happiness in the world. You’re always there to offer an encouraging word when I’m feeling down or to roll my eyes with at the latest drama. Thank you for being this fandom’s safe place to land, even when you have so much on your plate in real life. You’re a friend to everybody and I’m more grateful for your friendship then I can put into words. I can’t wait to hug you again in Nashville!

@straightlinedownx - EMILY. I’D DIE FOR YOU, BICTH. I AIN’T EVER GONNA STOP LOVING YOU, BICTH!!! IN TRUE US FASHION, THIS ENTIRE ENTRY WILL BE IN ALL CAPS, BECAUSE IT ISN’T A CONVERSATION WITH THE TWO OF US IF WE AREN’T SCREAMING. YOU ARE MY FRIENDSHIP SOULMATE. I’M GONNA LOVE YOU SO HARD UNTIL YOU LOVE YOURSELF JUST AS MUCH AS I DO BECAUSE YOU DESERVE ALL THE LOVE THE WORLD CAN HOLD, YOU BEAUTIFUL, BRILLIANT, PERFECT HUMAN. YOU’RE GOING TO BE THE MOST AMAZING DOG-TOR IN THE WORLD AND I CAN’T WAIT TO TACKLE YOU IN NASHVILLE. IT’S WHAT WE DESERVE. @taylorswift HUG EMILY PLEASE.

@rain-caamepouringdown - ASHLEE. Hi. You’re my best friend in the entire world. I would quite literally die for you. I’m sorry there was a microphone and we still didn’t meet her. And that you threw up on the bus ride back in Houston. And that I cry so much. And that my dog scratches you every time you come over. But it’s just because we both love you so much, okay? See you tomorrow. 

__________________________________________________

A-D

@afragileline @alwynswifts @andreaswift @andyoucallmeupagain @autumnsoldier13 @babyyouremyqueen @bebrandnew @beforeyougetleft @betterthanrevenge @booknerdswiftie @booksandteawithhoney @bubblyswiftie13 @camislostinwonderland @coffee-midnights @colorsinautumn @crayzay4tay @darlingimanightmare @dearjohns @deliecate @detectiveswift @dibblesthepegacorn @dontwanttofly @dramalovestaylor @drugismybaby

E-K

@eightynineisfine @emswift @enliestheissue @everythinghaschanged @fellaswiththehellagoodhair @fellldowntherabbitthole @flashbacksandechoes @getawayccar @gonegvrl @gxtawaycars @hairbleached @heypay @holyswift @iconfessbabe @ikeepcruising @ileftmyheartinenglandsomewhere @imtheblankspace @in-her-wildest-dreams @in-silent-screams13 @incredibly-enchanted @insilentscreams @invisiblelocket @it-feels-like-a-perfect-night @ithinkim-finallyclean @ittwasrareiwasthere @iwillholdontoyou @jtmaster13 @katemckinnons @keepcruising

L-Q

@lastskiss @lightsdownlow13 @longlivethatlook @longlivethegirlinthedress @longlivewewillberemembered @lovestory @lovetheplayers @messthatuwanted @monica-geller @muchadoaboutnatalie @mustlikeme4me @my-weird-heart @nashvegasswift @nessa007 @nevergettingoutofthewoods @ofcuriousmind @ohmymarvelousswift @ourlastkiss @perfectcrlme @pettyswift @pumpkinspicelatteswiftie @queen-olivia-benson @queentaylor

  R-T

 @recklesstreacherous @recordbreakingtaylor @repugaytions @rosegardenfilledwithtaylor @runningscared @sameoldswift @say-youwantme @schoolgirlcrushhh @screamingiminlovewithyou @shaking-off-the-bad-blood @she-so-swift @shell-be-swift @sixtiequeen @somedaywhenyouleaveme @sparksflys @stillgotscars @strangelookonhisface  @struggledthroughthenight @swift-tings​ @swiftful-thinking13​ @swiftlyromantic @tangledupwithuallnight @taylornation @taylorslobster @taylorswiftz @taylorthebaelor @taysgrammys @tayslaysswift @tayswiftnation @tehlorswift @theaustralianswiftie @theblameisonme @theheartbreaknationalanthem @thelasttime @thewestsideloft @thisloveshaunted @thosegeorgiastars13 @thosegeorgiastarstoshame @tlitedstage @tree-paine @trustsnobodys @tswiftdaily @taylorswiftstyle

U-Z

@usingforlife @watchingtayshine @wegotbillstopay @wereabetterman @weregoingtoflyaway @wereinagetawaycar @whatswiththatbitch @whyshedisappeared @wildesttdream @wxndxriand @youbelongwithme @youpaintmeabluesky @yoursweetdisposition-13 @yourtiltedstage