#Jason feels bad for threatening a kid trying to make it

[chaos-deimos-et-eris]

"what kinda drug is this?"

"Sugar."

DCXDP Fic Idea: Mr. Flavor's Soda

Danny gets thrown into an alternate dimension.

Which, sucks especially when he was just flying through the ghost zone on an exploration and had been attacked by a tribe of ghosts he had never seen before.

They looked surprisingly human, were it not for their horns and wings. Danny hadn't seen them coming, one moment he was looking at the Infinite Map trying to find his way back to the main section of the zone and the next he was being hurled to the ground from a flying net.

He hit the ground hard, with a startled yelp, as the ghosts surrounded him, each welding a sharp looking spears.

Danny wasn't sure what the net was made of, but it had forced him back into Fenton and deactivated his powers.

The tribe had been chanting in a language he could not understand, dragging him through their village as various creatures with similar features peaked out at him.

He been a helpless human staring up at the crowd as they sang and danced around a stone statue. Then a woman wearing a lovely golden leaf head piece stood up, and all went silent.

She gave what Danny thinks is a speech, waving her arms up and above her head. The crowd ate it up, cheering whenever she took a pause. The woman pointed to the stone as it began to glow, bowing it while flapping her wings.

Danny watched the crowd copy her actions intrigued by the strange festival until two large men flew over to him and lifted up his net. Their wings flapped in tune with the drums that picked up, carefully flying Danny over the crowd who all chanted and gently grazed their hands along his net covered body.

Danny felt unease, especially when the little tour ended with him dangling before the flowing stone that ripped open to a portal. It was ink black instead of the ussual green and horror creeps into his mind as the woman waves a staff over his head, the jingle of the bells attached to gently shaking.

Then the men through him through the portal. Danny's screams are drown out by the drums, stomping and joyful songs of the tribe that attacked him.

He has been sacrificed. He thought it would be the end, but instead, he wound up falling into a dumpster in a dirty alley back on Earth.

It took ages to wiggle his way the net, but by that point, Danny was too grateful to be alive to really care. When he stumbled out of the alley he came to find it was not his Earth.

His Earth did not have a place called Gotham. He been sent to a wrong universe, which wasn't the first time, but this time his powers were out of reach, locked within due to whatever net they had shoved him into.

The net disintegrated before his eyes, not even allowing him to study.

Danny was pissed. He wandered the streets, hoping to find help. All he had on his person was his student ID (which meant nothing if his school didn't exist) his broken phone and the credit card he had stolen from Vlad.

Testing the card at a gas station for a bottle of water, he held his breath as the clerk ran it and almost collapsed in relief as it went through.

Too bad the card had a limit of three thousand. He knew since he checked when he took it. It would be enough for a little while, but who knew with the economy in this world for how long. Everything was much more expensive, even the bottle of water was two dollars and fifty-five cents when back home it would have been Ninty five cents.

Danny needed a plan. He stumbled to a run-down motel and got a room wincing at the nightly rented it. Thank goodness the front receptionist didn't ask for an ID, as he checked him in.

Danny spent three whole days like this, trying to get Phantom to come forth from whatever lock he was stuck behind and wandering Gotham looking for anything familiar.

Eventually, Danny got a craving for a Coca-cola, and when he tried to find one, he came to the horrifying realization that his favorite drink did not exist. Not in this world.

Thank goodness Danny knew how to make some homemade version of it. He bought the supplies, telling himself it was worth the slight dent in his funds.

The receptionists at the motel startled when Danny breezed by carrying a lab kit (he only knew how to make it in a chemistry set since Tucker and he did it for a school assignment) and various groceries. She gave Danny an alarmed expression when he stumbled out a few hours later drinking his black liquid heaven.

Danny hadn't noticed she had gone for her phone with a pale face and shaking hands as he wandered around the city. He only realized something was wrong when he came back later that evening, carrying more supplies, determined to regain his various soda flavors he missed since his displacement.

As he was working, his rented room looked like a miniature lab as various sodas were carefully crafted. The following morning as Danny was attempting to scare his powers back into action by leaping off low fire escape he noticed a group of kids watching him.

They were just a filthy as Danny, so likely as homeless as him. Danny choose to ignore them as he raced up and down the stairs, doing flips to try to get his ghost side back. Eventually, a younger one creeper closer, staring at the re-purposed water bottled filled with his precious soda.

"Whats that stuff?" The kid asked eyeing the homemade cola with far too much interest.

"Cola" He responds, curious why the kid would get near someone who looked, honestly, insane. He would never have gone near someone taking two story jumps but that's just Danny.

"Is it strong?" The kid asks

Danny blinks. " I don't think so? I've been drinking it for a while, so it's pretty tamed for me"

"Where you get it?"

"I made it."

The kid nods, hand stuffed into his pocket before pulling out a crumbled twenty bill. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much for a bottle?" The kid asks, voice taking a sudden desperate tune.

Danny eyes the bill "I don't have any change. Just take the bottle. I can make more."

The boy's eyes bug out of his skull but he grabs a bottle and scrambles back to his group as if though he was worried Danny would change his mind. Odd.

The group of kids share the bottle between. They drink it quickly, some making faces as the carbonated bubbles go up their noses but happy.

The bottle is empty too quickly, and the kid comes stumbling back. "I know you said you didn't have change, but how many bottles could this buy me?"

Danny stares, and then he looks down at his haul. He has seven bottles left - one for each kid if he counted them right. "Look bring me smaller bills next time but for now just take the drinks"

"What kind of drug is it, if you dint mind me asking?" The boy says politely and Danny startles so hard he bangs his head on the metal latter.

A swears escapes his lips as the tiny boy- he could be no older then ten!- stiffens as if frighten. The group of kids behind him all become weary.

"It's not drugs! It's soda!"

"Soda?" The boy repeats confused then shrugs. "Sure man. Thanks!"

Taking all the bottles, the boy scrambles away, leaving the alley with his group as they all cheer. Danny shakes his head at them. This place is wild. He goes back to his jumps and ends up with more bruises than glowing powers.

But the following week the boy and his group retrun each carrying ones. Danny sells them more Cola for a dollar a piece encouraging them to save their bottles since he was running low. Then the week after that and the week after that, each time the group getting bigger.

Soon Danny starts to add different flavors, he hasn't found Sprite, Fonta or Dr.Pepper and he tries his best to bring the flavors back into this world. The kids loss their minds over it.

They nickname him Mr.Flavor since Danny forgets to introduce himself and now the little demons refuse to use his name even when he tells them. Danny realizes something weird is going on when adults start popping up in his alley also looking for a bottle.

He ends up making a steady income, walking home with a wab of cash. This is great since he is pretty sure he's near his card limit. The receptionist still eyes him with weary eyes but hasn't said anything as Danny builds a steady fulling for his drinks.

That's why when he wobbles back to his rented room now covered in even more reckless bruises, he is shocked to find his soda lab smashed to bits and a man in a red hood waiting for him.

"What the hell!" He yells as the man pointed a gun at his head.

"You think you can set up shop in my territory?" The man's growl is able to hear even with the voice changer.

Danny bristles "I can sell my soda wherever I want-"

"Soda?" The guy pauses, looking down at the various liquids sinking into the carpet. Before Danny can yell at him, the man reaches down and grabs two water bottles of every flavor. He walks backward to the smashed window - likely how he got in - with the gun still trained on Danny. "If this is anything other than Soda, say goodbye to your knee caps"

Danny lifts his chin "Shoot me. I'll turn ghost!"

The man says nothing as he flips backward through the window and vanishes into the night. Danny huffs, taking stock of the damage.

All his very small earthly possessions except for his three pairs of pants and shirts ( bought from a second-hand store with his soda money) were all ruined. He stumbles down to the front to report the damage, and the lady at the front actually shakes while telling him that they don't mind the damage.

Danny gives her a fifty as a thanks.

He tells the people the next day what happened. They all make faces and groan when he says it'll take time to replace his supplies. It's three days later that he finds the same helmet man in his room again. He was hit by a car earlier that night in a very desperate attempt to active his powers so he limps in, half sure he broken a bone or two.

The driver had speed away. A hit and run that hopefully won't be reported so no one will know Danny had noticed the driver was drunk and chose to get hit.

Danny spreads his arms "shoot me! Do it!"

Surely being shot would get Phantom back

The man shifts uncomfortable on his feet. "I'm not here to shoot you. I'm here to apologize. I tested your drinks and realized they were soda after all."

"So you smashed my stuff without verifying what it was? Lord of the flies you're evil!"

The man pauses. "Lord of the flies?"

"It's a classic. Read a book, pill head"

The man laughs. "I read plenty brat. Anyway, I brought you some gifts as a apology"

He pulls a tarp of a pile that Danny hadn't noticed in the dark. He gasps in delight when he sees state of the art chemistry sets all set up on a nice big table. He scrambled to the layout, eyes gleaming on the different syrups.

"This is awesome!" He chirps, picking up test tubes and checking thier quality. His mom would approve. His eyes catch a box underneath the table, which he quickly pulls out.

Inside are empty, new plastic disposals bottles. The lable has a shadowed leaping boy over the words "Mr. flavor Soda"

Danny gasps.

"I thought you needed a brand name." The man says, handing him a paper. "When you run out, go to this recycling place. They know to give you new bottles with your lable. Also, carry that sellers permit, or the cops will give you trouble. You know Anthony's Pasta?"

Danny gapes at the paper, blinking slowly. "No?"

"It's in Crime Alley. The Italian restaurant at the corner. They'll agreed to let you sell your drinks in thier lobby every Friday and Monday from opening to closing. There should be a light board in one of the boxes. Set up a menu for that day."

"What? Why would they agree to that?"

Danny can't see his face, but he thinks the man is smirking. "They owe me a favor or two. Do you best, kid, and stay off the streets"

"I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen, " Danny says, lifting his chin.

"Sure." The man steps back towards the window. Which seems to have been fixed in the nine hours Danny was out. Odd. "And kid? Please go to the free clinic."

He throws a business card with the clinics information before he vanishes into the shadows again.

Danny is left standing there with endorsement for a bubbling soda business with a shock expression.

Well, at least he has something to make some cash while getting his powers back.

[lazycats-stuff]

Hi idk if you're taking requests rn but can you please do if possible batfamily x male reader who's younger than dick but older than jason and he is really shy around batfamily because he came to the family after damian idk if this makes sense and while out on patrol an enemy injects him something that turned him into a toddler but he still has all his memory the rest is up to you im sorry if this doesn't make sense😭

It's fine, it makes perfect sense, don't worry my dear anon. I know exactly what you mean. Did I use this GIF before? Yes. Does it work in this context? Yes. And did I use this GIF for a story before where I also wrote about a shy reader? Yes.

Summary: (Y/N) is shy around his family. That is until he is turned into a toddler.

Warnings: shy (Y/N), (Y/N) is turned into a toddler, not a lot of bad warnings, besides mentioning Bruce being stabbed for the purpose of this one shot.

(Y/N) was always shy, even before Bruce adopted him. But that shyness completely intensified when he was adopted into the family. He was younger than Dick, but older than Jason, which would put him somewhere in the middle. If only he didn't come after Damian came into the family, it might have been easier.

Coming into a new family where there are already four siblings and you are the fifth one... It's not easy to say the very least. Meeting new people is not easy and (Y/N) always struggled with being shy and just over all... A bit overwhelmed. More often than not, (Y/N) could be found with a blush on his cheeks. Very quiet too... Feeling self conscious more often than not.

Bruce tried to make his son more comfortable. So did the other boys. All of them in their own ways. Bruce talked to (Y/N) about becoming a vigilante. Which (Y/N) thought was a good idea. But due to his shyness... (Y/N) was very hesitant to do so. He didn't want to impede anyone due to his shyness.

Bruce promised him that they could work on it and at the same time train to go out on patrol. Bruce wanted to make sure that (Y/N) is fully prepared to go out. Sometimes, (Y/N) could overthink a lot of things and Bruce wanted (Y/N) to just trust his gut feeling. Go with your gut, trust yourself.

Of course, an overthinker overthinks everything and that sometimes makes it a bit more difficult to function. Of course, overthinking for a while when it's your first few times being on patrol is normal, you are trying to get into your rhythm and to get the initial nerves out. But the problem is that (Y/N) is a chronical overthinker. So Bruce made sure to shadow (Y/N) all the time.

Bruce made sure to instruct his sons to do the same. To make sure that they shadowed (Y/N), just for his safety. (Y/N) didn't mind it, but he would like to have a tiny bit of autonomy and a little bit of confidence in himself.

His brothers were sympathetic to that, but Bruce's orders were still standing. And Bruce did know that (Y/N) was getting a bit restless and annoyed as he couldn't have some independence. But Bruce wanted to be sure that (Y/N) could take care of himself if he was alone. And after numerous conversations with Bruce, Bruce relented and (/YN) was happy to have a little bit more autonomy.

Bruce was still worried of course, but knew that (Y/N) could take care of himself. Just like all of his children could. But Bruce is always worried about all of his children. So, he made sure to put a tracker in (Y/N)'s suit.

Just in case, Bruce told himself, trying to ease his guilt of doing this.

He knows that he couldn't tell (Y/N) because he would freak out at Bruce. Where's the autonomy if you have a tracker? And (Y/N) was happy to be trusted enough to go on his own...

Bruce was caught in the middle.

Bruce was sitting in the Batcave, taking a night off due to a stab wound. And Alfred might have threatened him with certain things if he even thought about going out on patrol. So Bruce decided to be on the Bat computer, offering support for his kids and for them to go out on patrol alone, without him as physical backup.

It was all going good, but it was a full moon. And far too quiet. And Bruce knew that something was bound to happen. And he was right. But he expected one of his kids to be hurt. Maybe something broken.

Not (Y/N) being turned into a toddler. Bruce nearly fell out of his chair once he got told what happened. It was an up and coming villain, one that Bruce didn't want to see in Gotham city. He didn't know that the enemy was dabbling into stuff like that. He stood in shock as Dick was holding a little toddler, wrapped in Damian's cloak, since the suit was far too big on him now. The suit was in Damian's hands.

" Is (Y/N) okay? Do you know what his cognition levels are? Toddler or what? "

" I'm still a teen in my mind. " (Y/N) said quietly and Bruce sighed in relief. He didn't know how he would feel if he had an actual toddler in here. He has no experience in raising one and Bruce didn't think that he could even handle on. Bruce gently walked forward and took (Y/N) into his arms, trying to calm down his nerves.

(Y/N) was okay. That's what Bruce wanted to hear. He's okay. Not dead. Not harmed... Bruce sighed in relief as he held his son close to him. His shyest son, the one who overthinks everything, the one who often blushes...

" Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere? " Bruce asked softly and (Y/N) nodded, seemingly not wanting to talk. Bruce didn't mind it. He could work with nods and shakes.

" Alright, lets find some clothes for you and then Alfred will feed you and then off to bed. " Bruce said to (Y/N), who nodded, happy to eat something.

Alfred watched in silence, still shocked, but soon recovered from it.

" I'll make you your favorite master (Y/N). Come on, lets go. " Bruce put (Y/N) down and (Y/N) walked over to Alfred, reaching for his hand. Alfred smiled as he led (Y/N) up to eat something.

Bruce then turned to his sons.

" Did you manage to catch the guy? " Bruce asked and everyone shook their heads.

" He got away. He was just within my reach. " Jason crossed his arms, looking pissed.

" It's okay Jason, don't blame yourself. Once I'm fully healed, I'll help you two. For now, we need to locate the enemy and ask him for how to reverse the affects. But for now... I'll enjoy this time. I've never had a chance to raise any of you as toddlers, " Bruce confessed and everyone chuckled.

That much was true, they were all older and no one came in when they were toddlers, they were more closer to teenage years. So Bruce would really like to enjoy this period.

Can anyone blame him?

And that's what they all did. They enjoyed this time with (Y/N), Bruce more than the others. Bruce enjoyed how much smaller (Y/N) was and the fact that he could carry him in his arms. Thank God for Bruce's workout plan. And the money to get all the things necessary. Thank God for that.

(Y/N) became a bit compact with the transformation so whenever he got nightmares or got scared in general. Bruce seemed to notice that fear intensified. More often than not, (Y/N) would climb into bed, seeking comfort in his dad. Bruce never minded. How could he? No one else minded either.

It was oddly nice to have a toddler in the home. And while yes, (Y/N) still has his memories as a teen and is not as whiny as a toddler would be so it's not a fair comparison per se, but still. They liked it. Jason loved teasing more than anything in the world. (Y/N) hated it and often whined about it like a toddler would and it made Jason even more amused.

Dick enjoyed this stage too. It's nice to have someone so small around here for some reason. Tim simply buried himself into work to find the enemy. Damian didn't know where to stand on this issue. While he loved his brother even before this, although never showed it outwardly, he wanted his older brother back.

Because this messes with your mind. You have an older brother who was got turned into a toddler. It messes with your perception too. Damian was a little bit freaked out a little bit by it. Okay, not a little, but still.

And yes, (Y/N) was annoyed being a toddler. Being too small to reach anything, Jason teasing him, everyone treating him like a baby... He's had enough of it. He wanted to get out of this little body as soon as possible.

He wanted to be back to him old self.

And that wish was granted when he has seen Bruce smiling after patrol, showing him a serum.

" This will bring you back to your old self. "

(Y/N) sighed in relief. Thank God.

[clockwayswrites]

Totally didn't write Tim being confused.

WC:1174 Masterpost

“So are you going to want in on it?” Jason asked without looking over at Tim. If his brother wanted to follow after him on his mundane patrol, let him.

“You’d be okay with that?” Tim asked, unable (or not trying to) keep the surprise out of his voice.

Jason just shrugged, sure to exaggerate the motion to show through his armor. Tim had done him a favor with this research, Jason figured he earned a spot on the bust. Besides, Jason was… trying. He couldn’t make up for what he’d done to Tim, but he could try to be better now.

“Yes, sure,” Tim said in response to the shrug. “Just let me know when and I’ll make sure the others know to cover my route that night. Or nights, if you need help planning?”

Gut reaction was to growl at the offer of help planning, but Jason forced the sound back down into a noncommittal noise. He was better now. He didn’t need to do everything himself. His goons, and god he still didn’t like that name but whatever, proved that. Crime Alley was better because of them. “Maybe. Lemme look over your data first. I’ll let you know.”

“Right, sure, of course,” Tim said with an aborted flutter of his hand. “Just let me know.”

Fuck, Jason really should say yes, let Tim help. “Yeah, I will. Just need to go over what you’ve got, get my head around it, you know?”

Tim nodded. Some of his hair slipped out of the hair tie that he had it pulled back into. Jason thought it was good for the kid to be growing his hair out, getting out of that perfect corporate box he put himself into too much, but he didn’t know how to say that in a way that wouldn’t offend Tim or make him feel judged, so Jason kept quiet.

In the quiet it was very easy to hear a too familiar voice growl, “I said back off! I’m not interested!”

Jason sighed, the noise threatening through the modulation of the helmet, and turned to run over the roof tops towards the voice. He could feel rather than hear Tim change directions with him, ever the loyal shadow.

-

Tim perched on the edge of the roof that Jason was leaning over.

“Come on, my money’s good,” huffed some dude. He must have gotten out of his car to confront the sex worker who had turned him down. Which beyond being rude, no still meant no even if the person was a sex worker, it was clear the worker was done for the night. They were carrying two handfuls of plastic bags and Tim could smell the food from the roof.

“I said no, dude,” they said. “Go find someone working a corner if you need it that bad.”

“Yeah, they don’t have what you have,” the guy said. Then he did the stupidest thing he could have done and reached out while the sex worker pulled away.

Jason was already over the ledge of the roof before Tim had twitched. He landed with a purposeful crunch on the battered asphalt and had his gun drawn and pointed as the guy spun around.

“You new to the Alley?” Jason growled.

The guy (who looked two seconds away from pissing his pants) shook his head.

“Then you should know the rules,” Jason said. He stepped forward and pressed his gun against the guy’s temple.

Tim’s gaze flicked between Jason and the sex worker, who was looking on… fondly? Something else was going on here.

“I see you fucking with people like this again and you’ll lose something important, got it?”

“Got it,” the guy squeaked.

“Get out of here.”

The guy scrambled back to his car and took off with a squeal of tires. Tim jumped down silently while Jason holstered his gun and turned to the sex worker.

“Hood!” They said with a bright smile.

“Danny,” Jason growled. “What are you doing out here at this time of night?”

“Delivering some dinner to Nickie and the girls,” Danny said, holding up the plastic bags in his hands.

Jason’s fingers twitched like he wanted to run a hand over his helmet (or strangle the other). “Dressed like that?”

The worker, Danny, pouted and looked down at his outfit. There was a large sliver of stomach exposed between the bright green crop top with a pattern of cartoon ghosts, tiny black shorts with magenta details, and knee high black boots. Tim sort of thought the look worked for him in an eye searing way.

“Oh come on, I’m going to see Nickie. You know I have to dress right or she’ll drag me off to another makeover. I can’t take any more makeovers, Hood. And… don’t you think I look good?”

“Of course you look good,” Jason said.

Tim’s head whipped over to stare. He had to purposeful close his mouth before he caught flies.

Danny’s pout grew. “Then what’s the issue?”

“The issue is people are going to think you’re a hooker.”

Wasn’t he?

Danny rested a hand on his hip and raised a brow at Jason. “You say that like being a hooker is a bad thing. Do I need to tell the girls you said that?”

“You know what I mean!” Jason argued. “You just had a pushy John try to pick you up!”

“And I was handling him!”

Jason growled again and took a threatening step forward. Instead of being cowed by it, Danny stepped up into Jason’s space, basically pressing himself along Jason’s looming form. And then Danny stood up on his tip toes and pressed a kiss to Jason’s helmet, right where his mouth would be.

Tim could hear the dial up tone in his own mind.

What.

It only got louder when Jason sighed and just slumped, the fight going out of him.

“Danny…”

“I’m fine, Hood. Look, I’ll take the food to Nickie and stay with the girls until you can walk me home. Or your little shadow can.”

When Jason’s head jerked up to looked at Tim, he couldn’t help the instinct to raise his hands innocently.

Jason just grumbled and let his helmet drop onto Danny’s slim shoulder, which started shaking with laughter.

“Shut up,” Jason said.

“You forgot he was there, didn’t you?” Danny asked. He transferred all the food to one side so that he could run a hand over the helmet and down to Jason’s neck.

Jason letting someone touch him so casually, especially as Red Hood wasn’t helping Tim’s brain reboot.

“Red, get your ass over here,” Jason said.

Tim figured it was best to listen with whatever the fuck was going on here. He slipped out of the shadows while Danny turned around, tucked himself back into Jason’s arms, and smiled at Tim.

“Red, Danny. Danny, Red Robin, one of the Bats.”

“Hi,” Danny chirped cheerfully and held out his empty hand.

“Hello,” Tim said, shaking it mostly on instinct. What the fuck was going on here?

---

AN: Oh look! Another Bat finally meets Danny! Tim is so, so confused. I'm not feeling well at all, so I went back to the tried and true fic that I'm not writing. It's been a while since I haven't written it, hasn't it?

I no longer tag, but you can subscribe to the masterpost here.

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Tim gets deaged which usually wouldn't be too much of a problem considering he still has his adult mind in tact. No. The problem is that there was a child who was the same age as deaged Tim and who looks suspiciously just like him.

Oh. And they somehow got swapped.

Now Tim is stuck trying to figure out who and what Phantom is and what dimension his "lair" is in so he can escape. Tim briefly considered just talking to Phantom and explaining things (with some omissions obviously) but after seeing his eyes flash an eerily familiar green he had frozen. It didn't help that Phantom was doting and scarily overprotective of his children. Some robotic rogue with a flaming green mohawk had threatened to harm them while they were out in the stroller and Phantom took off his head with ruthless cruelty. Tim wasn't taking his chances with a bad reaction so he has more or less resigned himself to living life as a one year old along side his "twin" until he can escape.

Meanwhile Danny is getting more and more concerned that the personality of one of his kids has changed. He had been a happy and bubbly baby until he suddenly became quiet and withdrawn. Had his kid been traumatized somehow? He watches them sleep together in thier crib and wonders...

Meanwhile the bats are cooing over baby "Tim" and doing all sorts of baby activities appropriate for a one year old. The sheer amount of baby clothes everyone buys is ludicrous and I greater theres at least three Nightwing themed outfits in the pile. At least.

Damian becomes jealous of all the time people are spending with "Tim" (especially grayson) and bullys the baby for it all the while causing the baby to cry and Damian to be scolded, which only fuels his ire.

After a week of this the bats confront the person who made the device that deaged RR and found out that Tims mind should not have reverted back to a child, only his body. Damian feels victorious and claims his brother must have been faking the entire time and confront "Tim" about it...but "Tim" doesn't change his behavior. He still acts like a normal baby.

After a while of this they decide to run a dna test just to be sure. The DNA test comes back positive...on half. This shocks everyone. They run the test several more times and have to come to terms with the fact that not only is Tim out there somewhere in the body of a defenseless 1 year old baby, but they somehow got his (future?) son with them instead.

Damian has to come to terms with the fact his been bullying a litteral infant this entire time and the shame that comes with that. (It wasn't any better when you thought it was a baby Tim and Jason points that out) Damian does some self reflection and tries to make amends.

[dxrksong]

Just a funny what if

The classic batfam being used to summon the ghost king scenario. Danny claws his way out of the circle and tries to intimidate everyone

Danny: WHO DARES-JOHNNY13?! Is THIS Where you've been this whole time?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: wait, are you alive?!

Jason: unfortunately.

Danny: is that your family???

Jason: UNFORTUNATELY

[Later]

Jason: kid, wait up!

Danny: ?? What's up?

Jason: take me with you, PLEASE! I can't deal with their constant drama!!

Danny: John-JASON, I really don't think That's a good idea! With your family being overprotective as it is, your.....weird biology of being essentially a halfa ZOMBIE. I'm honestly concerned about what would happen if you went back into the zone.

Jason: kid please! There's hardly any ambient ectoplasm here that ISN'T tainted to high hell! Look, you can get a doctor or something if it'll make you feel better but I REALLY need to go back!!!!

Danny: *sighs* fine fine! I'll get frostbite. Just wait here for a little bit!

Jason: YES!!! THANK YOU KID!!! YOURE A LIFESAVER!!!!

Danny: uh huh, just don't die again. Oh, and btw, you might wanna start running now.

Jason: huh? Why?

The batfam, misunderstanding that entire conversation and gearing up to smother and protect Jason at all cost:

The Bike who drove itself home the moment Danny appeared because it knew Jason was gonna be fine:

---------

Frostbite isn't one for swearing

For one he's more than often surrounded by younglings and the other is to maintain the image of his tribe. For if he were to start swearing like a sailor, the rest of the yeti tribe will be sure to follow. And of course it'd be nearly impossible to reverse such a thing.

So when he met with the great one's distressed friend, all he could do was freeze as he desperately tried to pick his words VERY carefully.

What....

What the FUCK was he LOOKING at?!

This.....this poor thing is SERIOUSLY ILL!!

Oh-wait! The great one was saying something, he completely tuned him out!

FB: Great one, we MUST get him to the infirmary IMMEDIATELY!!

Danny: huh? Why? Is it really that bad- *Frostbite grabs Jason and runs back into the zone* -and wow he didn't even wait, this must be serious.

------

Frostbite......has no words.....

This......shouldn't be possible....

And yet for some reason it is....

FB: You have a parasite.

Jason: huh?? Like a virus?

FB: yes.....Which shouldn't be possible.

Jason: what?? How? I'm technically alive right?

FB: yes, but that's not why. It's the parasite itself, that's the impossibility!

Danny: what do you mean?

FB: it appears the parasite is mimicking a central nervous and vein system out of ectoplasm not unlike what the Great one has, hence your reserection.

Jason: and that means???

FB: it essentially means you have a second core! But it appears unfinished. Though I am curious as to WHY it's using itself so diligently to keep you alive...

Danny: so what were to happen if we were to remove it?

Jason: ?!?!?!

FB: he would have to be put in an intensive care treatment immediately as the shock would no doubt threaten to stop his heart or rupture his core.

Jason, trying to keep himself calm: so there's no way to fix this?

FB: on the contrary, it appears your body might be trying to absorb it. Or more specifically the corrupted ectoplasm that came with it.

Jason: ok?! And??!

FB: well if we get rid of the corrupted ectoplasm, the parasite SHOULD be weakened enough to the point we can just take it out, simple as that.....in theory.

Jason growled, green coating his vision. Before getting a small electric shock in the neck

Jason: OW! WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!

FB: it appears the parasite reacts to your emotions. If you get angry, it boosts your strength. Although unfortunately it seems to elevate your emotions as well, which seems to only confuse the parasite more till the threat is neutralized or out of sight.

Jason: so, what? It's sentient??

FB: it appears so, however it doesn't look to be very smart. Only reacting to emotions and the stress levels in your system. Kind of like a blob ghost with it's herd now that I think about it.

Jason: .......ARE YOU SAYING I'M BEING POSESSED BY A FUCKING BLOB GHOST?!?!?!

Danny:

Jason:

FB:

FB: well I'm NOT not saying that-

Danny had to drag Jason back home before he injured frostbite.

[m3vl0vesu]

𝔸 𝕡𝕣𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕧𝕖 𝕣𝕖𝕕 𝕗𝕝𝕒𝕞𝕖 𝕡𝕥𝟚

Tw: Violence, suggestions of abuse, suggestions of bullying

A/N: I finally made a part two you guys!!! It was short and simple, the real stuff comes later :)

Part one>>

Your thoughts

The anxiety bubbled in your throat-or maybe that was bile- as the stench of cigars hit your nose. You followed the light smoke into the kitchen, your father seated at the table. His eyes scanned over you, narrowing as he did a double take. “You're late.” His voice was rough and hoarse, maybe he didn’t notice.

You hated that that was a good thing. “The bus was late…” Your voice was barely a whisper, you were mumbling again. “Speak up.”

“The bus was late.” The stench of cigars was stronger as you saw a cloud of smoke surround your dad, it was a sight you’ve seen for as long as you can remember. “There's a door right there, can’t you do that outside?” Nothing in your tone indicated sass, it was a genuine question. You waved your hands, even if you were used to the smell you still didn’t like it. “You can deal with it.” “And you can deal with smoking outside.”

Rude. Just rude, he stunk up the kitchen and he didn’t even bother to use an ashtray. Just a mess for me to clean up. Why even bother? Shit. “Fix your tone.” “Right, s-sorry…sorry”

He turned around, giving you permission to leave the room. It was always a surprise to see him home, and if you were being honest? You wish he never came back.

Only thing you could see were the stairs, after every step they creaked. With your head down you made it to your bedroom, the familiar site making your shoulders feel heavier. You tried your best to close your door without a slam, and it was hard. Your fists needed to hit something, someone. And you hated it, but violence is just how your family does it. Violence

.

. Monday 4:59 Jason Todd (Third person)

.

Violent. Unstable.

Bruce's words echoed in his mind, sure the old man was probably just  trying to get him back ‘home’ ,but to Jason? It just seemed like another way to cage him. Jason was an adult now, he learnt how to do adult things. And he did that alone. He could take care of himself, sure he forgets to clean his wounds sometimes…and he might be getting evicted-but still!

With a grunt, he fell onto the worn-out couch he owned. The familiarity of it made the tenseness in his shoulders decrease a little. It was a bad day. One thing on his mind was that kid, why were they all busted up? A small chuckle left his lips when he remembered what they said ‘You’re not a wall??’ they sounded…funny.

Plus it was pretty dangerous for a kid to just be out and about in Gotham streets. The kid would be fine right? 

They didn’t seem weak but…but…

But why do I care?

With a sigh he fell asleep. If he can’t do it at night, he might as well sleep the day away.

.

.Tuesday 1:30 (Second Person)

.

It felt like the walls were closing in on you, the rush of people getting to class. You hated it, the overlapping sounds of their footsteps and their mindless chatter. You could feel their sides as they passed by you, a few hands here and there, your head still hurt. 

Two more hours of this bullshit. This wasn’t going to work, you needed to skip. But you couldn’t afford another detention, literally. 

They threatened to expel you, your wrist still hurts from that night.

Your nerves were on fire, nothing could calm you down. Definitely not whatever useless subject you had next. Science was it? It was time to use the sick or injured card. 

You had enough bruises and it worked last time, but that meant entering the classroom, raising your hand, people having their eyes on you as you asked to go to the nurse.

Ah

They implied that new rule, the one where your parents would have to pick you up. Of-fucking-course! 

Your life was as shitty as ever, and that damned limp had barely gotten better. At least the swelling on your ankle stopped. It had been like that for a week, it was probably a good idea to go to the nurse for that but why bother, then she’d tell your parents. And no-one needs that. 

Even though something at the back of your mind desperately wanted them to notice. While deep in though someone bumped into y-

“Ah. Sorry about that.” The words held no real apology but at least he had the decency to apologise. “No it’s alrigh-” holy f-it was the Wayne kid. “...t. I-It’s fine”

You didn’t really know why but he always creeped you out, it was odd. I mean it was always odd seeing a proper Gotham elite not have some vendetta against you but that wasn’t it. He had a particular distance from everyone, and his guard was always up. All he did was sit and watch, he read people well. Just like you did…maybe that was it. The thought of someone knowing how you felt irked you, it just wasn’t what you're used to. He looked down at the floor, maybe your ankle, and walked off. Leaving you with a small chill down your spine. Guess you had to get to Science, he was in your class anyway. Couldn't risk it, he might be a snitch. He did look like one.

.

.3:19

.

School was closed early after a villain was spotted nearby, which was odd they never really came this close to the school during the day. If there was a villain spotted nearby that meant-

ShitThe buses weren’t coming. Even if you tried calling your Dad he would say he’s at ‘work’ or ‘too busy’ and Mom was too ill to drive, that asshole probably took the car as well.

Guess that meant walking, you dreaded any time you had to walk. It was usually long and unbearable, going from the relatively clean streets to the graffiti-filled alleyways near where you lived. 

The penthouses would turn into small apartment buildings, just further proof just how big the gap was from the privileged to the others.

When you had to walk you usually kept some sort of weapon on you. Everyone did. Didn’t mean it wasn’t going to suck.

.

The dozens of kids slowly turned into three or five going the same way you were. Some behind and some in front, your old headphones blasting whatever emotional music you were listening to. When you turned the corner you saw him, them. 

Instinctively your hands balled up into fists, they were laughing. A laugh that bounced around in your mind, you pray that they don’t fucking notice you-

…

Well never mind then.

“Look who we have here…” The boy had a mop of brown curly hair and a freckled face, he was a few inches shorter than you. It always made you chuckle, but today you just walked away, that's when you felt the collar of your shirt being pulled from behind. Do these dipshits get off on your torture or something? “Hey-” Your reflexes were fast, too fast. Your elbow hit his jaw, fuck you hit him too hard. When you turned around, almost falling he almost pounced on you. Almost. He was grabbed by his collar, like a small kitten would be grabbed by their mother. You stepped back, looking up at the mans face…he seemed familiar.

.

.

.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size? I saw a squirrel nearby, maybe that would do.”

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[necrotic-nephilim]

Psst this makes no sense timewise but fucky Stephjay where teenage Jason briefly worked for Cluemaster to pay for food/rent.

I doubt Jason would be a drug runner as a kid but I can see him as a lookout or maybe bodyguard/errand boy for the Browns.

YOUR MIND MY GOD THIS IS SO GOOD

Jason working for Cluemaster is *so* good, my god. especially if Jason doesn't want to be there and doesn't like it, but he has no other option to pay the bills (i think this would be a fun AU to keep Catherine alive in, maybe he's trying desperately to pay medical bills to ensure she keeps getting medication she needs which makes him even more desperate for money and willing to do things he wouldn't normally) so he starts working for small time villains, ones he thinks won't be as bad as Joker or the like. which lands him as a goon for Cluemaster and somehow, he's either useful or interesting enough to Arthur that he decides to keep promoting Jason. until one day, he offers a very high pay raise for Jason to look after Steph. it's not necessarily that Arthur cares about Steph or her mother, but he does care about his reputation so when someone threatens his family, he needs to save face.

i think this could be fun to explore before Jason becomes Robin (maybe making him Robin a *little* later just so he and Steph have a significant time together as teenagers). and Jason ends up sort of close to this spunky, angry kid of Arthur Brown who calmly tells Jason she is going to do everything in her power to get her father behind bars and she's sorry but not sorry if and when that lands Jason out of a job. bc maybe she's suspicious of Jason first, bc what kind of guy willingly works for Cluemaster, but then, as she learns more about where he is in life, she Gets it. she understands bc she sees the shady things her own mother, Crystal does to get by under Arthur's thumb.

when Jason vanishes bc he becomes Robin, Steph is disappointed but she gets it. Bruce Wayne suddenly publically has a new ward and hell, Steph can't blame a guy for taking that chance bc that kind of money will *definitely* help Catherine. Steph's life goes on with her father being her father.

it's a bit unrealistic but. i sort of like the idea that when Jason dies, Bruce is so caught up in grief and funeral proceedings and anger that he sort of forgets about Catherine. and Steph will be damned if Catherine Todd is forgotten about and left to rot as a childless mother. i'd love to write Steph and Crystal finding the money to manage to keep Catherine afloat as well and Steph getting really close to Catherine bc of it. also would be fun if Steph becomes Spoiler partly in honor of Jason bc (not knowing he was Robin) she wants to do the good he never got to.

and THEN the fucked up-ness of it all that Steph finds out Jason was Robin when she takes up the torch and so quickly dies afterward she never fully gets to process how she feels about that. how to handle her pride in Jason for getting to be more than what he was versus her anger at Bruce for letting him die. and on the horrible flip side, Jason comes back and finds out Bruce let another kid die as Robin, and that kid was *Steph*. he finds out it was Steph who kept his mom alive, Steph who died in a mantle that should've ended with Jason and he's even angrier at Bruce. i do think he'd kill Black Mask in a slow, painful way to avenge her since clearly, Bruce can't.

and then Steph comes back and there's all the complicated feelings i just. oh your brain this is such a good idea i want to write it so bad. anything that explores connections Jason and Steph could've had before Bruce because they truly deserve to be more entangled than they already are. let them be weird about each other DC.

[lixzey]

a leo valdez x child of dionysus!reader story/headcannons would cure my depression rn🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️(maybe best friends to lovers ? )

sorry for being so vague but there just isn’t enough appreciation for leo i need anything 😭😭

thank u i love your works btw

i wanna teach you how forever feels !

leo valdez x daughter of dionysus!reader headcannons <333 friends to lovers

leo valdez x dionysus!reader headcannons <33

a/n: so sorry if this is too long 😭 i got carried away 🫣 i hope you like it!

• you and leo met the day after his quest to save hera along with jason and piper. you had just came back to camp after spending a dreadful christmas back at your mortal relatives' place, and you weren't in the mood to deal with anyone's bullshit. but you bump into him, walking back to cabin nine from spending most of the day at bunker nine. leo starts apologizing again and again, keeping his head down for the duration of it. the holidays were really not the best times for him, having spent most of them alone. you forgive him, of course. it was the holidays after all, and you were pretty sure that he didn't need you being mean and all on the day he felt he most alone

• after that little interaction, you went to go look for him at cabin nine or bunker nine. he was shocked, to say the least.

• “what are you doing here miss...?” he asks all awkward, almost hitting himself in the face with his hammer bcs he was twirling it in his hand trying to act normal.

• you laugh at him, which makes him blush so bad to the point that he could compete with a strawberry down at the patches. he thinks that you sound so angelic, not knowing your other side yet

• speaking of that other side,

• the moment he found out who your godly parent was, he nearly lit the whole bunker ablaze. you were mr d's kid, oh he thought that he would be in so much trouble for being so close to, his only daughter

• it was a recipe for disaster, honestly

• but who was leo without a little disaster here and there?

• you and leo grow close over time

• because you literally hung out at bunker nine almost every day, helping him out even though you didn't know shit about building a literal war ship.

• and if you aren't there, leo would look for you so the two of you could hang out for a bit before going back to your respective camp duties

• the two of you bonded over fire, suprisingly

• you've been drawn to fire since you were young, something about flames dancing just fascinates you

• leo opens up about how his mother passed, which you felt bad for but he assures you that it's okay and it's not your fault, it's his. you glare at him at that and pretty sure he saw flames in your eyes, which shut him up real quick. leo now knows better than to talk poorly of himself around you.

• through the six months of building the argo II, you managed to get leo to rest from time to time

• let's be fr, that boy would not rest until you threaten to drag his ass back to his own cabin for him to sleep

• after a while, you manage convince leo to let loose. you invited him, jason, piper, and a few others to a party at your cabin

• since you practically live alone inside of it, why not forget all of the bullshit surrounding you guys for a while? you made sure that you'd be drinking grape juice, upon piper's insistence (much to leo's disappointment, but at least he had you-)

• watching you dance and laugh at the party made leo feel something weird, something he's never felt before. in his eyes, you look like a freaking goddess under the light, and from the corner of your eyes, you see leo smiling, which makes you feel giddy and warm inside

• the day before they were scheduled to leave for the other camp (jupiter) to go get percy, your father informs you that you, his only daughter, is a part of the quest

• you were mad as FUCK

• because why the hell would they tell you last fucking minute???? you literally had no clue about the said prophecy of eight, which apparently included you.

• the only one who managed to calm you down was leo.

• which was definitely a surprise to everyone who knows you, since your temper is definitely something, a force to be reckoned with, really

• so the next day you, leo, piper, jason, and annabeth set sail for who knows where because you literally had no idea

• leo tries his best to cheer you up by asking you to help him man the ship with him. teaching you morse code the way his mother taught him

• oh, how leo wishes that he could see that smile of yours every day

• and your laugh? angelic as if angels personally came down from heaven above

• when leo got possessed by those dumb eidolons, you stood up for him when octavian was talking shit about you and your friends.

• clocking octavian hard in the jaw

• needless to say, everyone was surprised

• but leo? bro thought you looked (even though he didn't see it personally) hotter than literal fire itself

• you may or may not have flooded camp jupiter with diet coke as you and your friends escape to buy you guys some time

• when percy was giving leo grief, you snapped at him

• “he bombed them, y/n!”

• “sit your ass back down perseus,” you hiss at percy, eyes ablaze with a purple flame your father always has. “before i smack the living daylights out of your sorry ass. and no, annabeth can't stop me.”

• annabeth, in fact, can't stop you

• but leo can

• “calm down, mi vida,” leo places a hand on your shoulder, somehow instantly calming you down.

• annabeth looks at leo, realizing what he had called you

• mi vida, or my life in english

• funnily enough, neither you or leo realized that

• secret glances between the two of you, like a glimpse of each other's smile would def make yours and his day a 100 percent better.

• you kinda despised hazel for a while because of the sammy thing. you tried to hide it, but if there's one thing that leo's picked up on you, it was your facial expressions.

• it's like you had built in subtitles, as leo put it.

• “i try not to think,” leo admitted. “it interferes with being nuts.” take a guess where leo got this

• you, his amazingly deranged pretty girl....friend

• when the argo II got yk attacked by big 'ol shrimpy monster, leo was terrified as fuck when he woke up in camp fish blood without you there

• bro practically had a panic attack

• if frank and hazel hadn't assured him that you were safe (probably, hazel just hoped that you were), he would have swam back up to the surface despite the risks

• my bro literally ran towards you as soon as he stepped foot on the ship

• “holy hephaestus! gracias a dioses estas a salvo, estaba tan asustada, mi vida!”

• you honestly had no clue about what he said, but you were honestly so relieved that he's alright

• coach hedge had to pry leo off of you

• but bro refused to leave your side

• leo tapped “meet me at the stables later,” on your arm in morse code

[space-dreams-world]

Inspired by this:

Except there's a twist: Danny adopts Dick, Jason, and maybe Tim.

Danny moved to Gotham (not bad end, but Vlad gets killed, trying to help Danny escape Amity Park, after de aging Dan and Ellie. Fentons, in their confusion and anger, make it even more unsafe for Danny to live there. Fortunately, Vlad made Danny his heir awhile ago, and in leaving, Amity closed their portal and Vlads. Vlad is a full ghost now. So now Danny is a runaway pregnant genderfluid teen that moves to Gotham, whether it be before the wayne murders or after. Jordan isn't born until a year into living in Gotham.)

He sets up a bakery/cafe near crime alley with his apartment on top of it and lab in the basement. He also owns a warehouse that he uses as a storage and training zone. He never makes homeless people pay, and if you can, it's a dollar. Even ghosts show up. He gets to know batman starting out and even maybe starts to court him as bats. They don't officially date until after catwoman reject his proposal, and Damian is permanently with Bruce.

Danny, while not at the circus prior to Graysons' murder, sees an escaped juvie grayson and is able to calm him down, even gets him to speak with his parents again and Danny with the help of Gotham threatens/scares Zucco into fearing for his life. He doesn't bring him back to Juvie but manages to save Dick's things and important paperwork. They declare him missing despite being needed in witness protection. Bruce wants to care for Dick but he doesn't have the same connection to Dick and sees Danny as his own Alfred, when B parents died. Danny raises Dick with a little help from Bruce.

Cannon events also happen, so Two-face and Joker get ahold of Dick for being near Batman and get beaten and shot. Danny brings Dick to the Far frozen and they heal him and he ensures to Two face/Joker that he will feel the same pain as what he has dealt to Dick and almost kills Joker but gets left with a warning.

Court of Owls actually loses Talons to Danny and are his and his kids' bodyguards now while trying to learn how heal them. Unfortunately, Bruce pulls back from the relationship with Danny, and this hurts them both.

Then,when Jason is on the streets, he sticks to near Danny's place and eventually gets adopted, too. Eleanor is born after. Jason loves his new family and is surprised that Bruce is back to dating Danny again. (Which hurts Dick because Bruce only came back for Jason)

In this scenario, Shelia reaches out to Jason for bribery reasons, and when Joker shows up, Danny is having none of it. He kills Mr. J crushes his soul and brings Jason to the Yeti, where he flatlines and gets to become a halfa instantly. This time, Danny is the one that pulls from Bruce as he never found out where Danny took Dick and now Jason to heal. So in the 6 months Jason was in the Zone practicing, Bruce took the worst of it and thought he was dead, but in reality Jason in the zone training with his powers and Dick helps out with his enhanced liminality. What seems like a death to Bruce is a coma or a loss of mobility for Jason. Bruce just assumes he's dead.

Dick grows up to be either a gymnast instructor or a social worker. Jason would be studying for literature or social or justice reform. Dan is a mechanic or security guard. He works part-time at the cafe and helps with branding and making the sweets. Jason, Jordan, and Ellie also help in the shop. Stephanie is a part timer.

Tim, during one of his photoscapedes, gets caught, and Danny and/or the kids save him and bring him to Danny. Tim, while dealing with years of parental neglect, stays with them, or Danny notifies Bruce of this. Either Tim stays with Danny, and despite Drakes having more money and power, Danny's otherness freaks them out and they decide fuck this or similar to cannon, Bruce adopts Tim.

Bruce, by the end of this, officially only has one or three kids: Damian, Cass, and/or Tim.

[I don't know if I want the boys into vigilante. It seems hypocritical for Danny to say no to vigilantism,but in another reality to this one, Danny says yes to the boys being vigilantes]

Hilariously, Danny and his kids show up to a Gala as Masters Heirs.

Jazz moves to Gotham after College to either be a doctor or work in Arkham.

Sam, while trying to leave her parents grasp, goes to Gotham for personal reasons and her parents threaten to cut her off from her inheritance unless she shows up at important events or Galas to support the Manson name.

Tucker is a tech fan and also moves to Gotham, but it is a bit of a recluse, but he takes an interest in teaching Babs, Dick and Tim in Hacking. He is an IT guy for Wayne Industries and an app creator.

[dairy-farmer]

I just read your jaytim infidelity AU, and what if it was dark!bruce??Bruce had his eyes on Janet's kid for a while, and he was more than happy when Jason became best friends with Tim.

But suddenly, they became boyfriends.

And something in Bruce shifts.

Tim was his. He had wanted him first, and now his son was taking him?

So one night, he fucks Tim, right when he knows Jason would notice too. Jason, heartbroken, won't listen to Tim begging for him to understand. He calls Tim a golddigger and kicks him out.

Bruce, meanwhile, is considered the victim, the one seduced, and he plays the part to a T, even though he doesn't want to insult his beloved Timmy.

And Tim is left in his big empty home, shunned from the only light he had ever known.

☆epilogue idea,,, Tim and Jason meet up in college and try to reconcile but Tim can't stand being around Bruce, his rapist, and Jason just sees it as Tim trying to "amend for his golddigger ways"

dark bruce where rather than feeling guilty for his attraction and slowly and subtly seducing tim by making his attraction pronouned- INSTEAD he takes what he wants, what he always thought was owed to him.

he corners tim when he's alone, paws at his skirt where the slutty little thing isn't wearing any panties- probably something meant to be a suprise for jason. he pins down tim's hands and holds him still as he fucks tim. he slides right in, his cock nice and snug inside tim because of how loosened he was left from jason working off some stress with him earlier.

jason finds them because of course he does, bruce made sure he would. afterall once he got what he'd been aching for since the moment he laid eyes on little timothy drake, he couldn't have tim running and crying to jason, possibly throwing a wrench in their relationship. jason was easy to prime for the 'golddigger' narrative all it took was offhandedly mentioning tim's mother and how tim closely resembled her, hopefully only in looks... and when bruce said that he'd said it with a bit of a resigned tone which immediatly caught jason's interest as he asked about it. and so bruce regaled him with exaggerated rumors and tales about janet drake and how she'd managed to bag jack drake and a life of luxary while also saying something about the prenup that guarenteed her millions if jack tried to leave her. all fake of course. but jason didn't know that and had no interest in socialite circles enough to double check the information. besides it all came from bruce. which meant that anything he said was as good as true in jason's mind.

when jason walks in on them bruce takes advantage of tim's slowed reaction to immediately start his victim campaign. he slurs his words, makes sure to let jason get a smell of the alcohol bruce swished around earlier which immediatly has jason's eyes narrowing in suspicion because he KNOWS bruce doesn't drink. bruce adjusts his body, subtly inching and allowing jason to follow his body's movements until his eyes lock on the two glasses of wine and open bottle.

tim's beginning to sniffle and softly croak out a desperate 'jason'. but jason is indetective mode and doesn't notice, too focused on sniffing and narrowing his eyes on the alcohol.

"these are spiked," he cuts out, frowning deeper. his eyes shoot to bruce who is clearly swaying and tim who is clearly not and desperately looking at him.

bruce wished he could say he felt bad. but it was hard to regret that tight vice of tim's cunt that had milked him of every drop bruce had to offer. bruce's only regret would be not having planned better to have worked in enough time to fuck tim for a few more hours.

jason had many choice words and insults he screamed at a sobbing tim who begged jason to listen to him, that it wasn't what it looked like, that tim was innocent. that bruce does feel bad about. it hurts his heart to see tim cry and be called names.

but bruce had to do it. for appearances sake.

in the end jason all but throws tim's out and threatens him about coming back before coming back and gently guiding bruce down to the cave, murmuring about helping him feel better.

truly bruce had the most loyal son in the world.

bruce is disappointed to learn that tim's parents apparently pull him out of gotham academy and send him overseas to a boarding school.

"good riddance" is all jason bitterly says when he tells bruce but bruce can still detect an underlying tone of pain in his voice. its understandable. tim was jason's first love, the person he lost his virginity to, and the first person to "betray" him.

still. bruce is saddened to know he won't ever see his little timmy around his manor grounds anymore.

bruce thinks of tim often after that. he has a fondess for him and their short sexual encounter in the manor library. bruce still had the tape of it and often watched it, listening to tim's hitched breaths and cries meshed with bruce's groans and curses as he bottomed out in a pussy that was tighter than anything bruce had ever fucked yet took a beating like it was made for it.

bruce missed tim. sometimes he thought of hopping on a jet and visiting his school, following him around some european streets and then dragging him into an alley just to feel the wet slide and throb of his little cunt around his cock again.

but bruce can't. he has responsibilities so is forced to put it out of his mind until years later.

jason is into his fourth year at gotham university and is livelier at dinner. bruce asks why and can see jason hesitate for a moment, look like he's thinking and then slowly say-

"do you remember....tim drake?"

bruce forced himself to not react. he'd feined memory loss of the day jason and tim broke up which he knew jason quietly was happy about. happy that bruce had no memory of his "drugging".

jason goes on to talk about tim. how he ended up crossing paths with tim at the university. how tim was studying photography, hadn't spoken to his parents since he turned 18, and spent most weekends volunteering at a teen crisis center.

"he really seems to have cleaned up his act," jason tells bruce, something soft and...fond tugging at his lips.

bruce quashes down the burn inside him at the sight, instead latching onto every morsel of information about tim.

about how he was back and living in gotham, probably near the university, maybe even living alone...

bruce nods and fakes a smile at jason, agreeing with his little observations.

meanwhile all bruce can think about is tim, his body almost vibrating with need.

the last time bruce had felt like this he thought he was going to go crazy if he didn't act on his desperate desire. and it had worked out last time. bruce had gotten what he'd been wanting from years for tim and now that he was back in bruce's city...

well...maybe bruce should add a patrol route going through gotham university from now on.

[ultimate-marysue]

To all interested in toxic, dysfunctional Batfam/Bad or Abusive Dad Bruce I have a proposition of sorts. As much as I love a Bad Dad Bruce where the kids all comfort and help each other standing up to Bruce, I think it's more likely and more interesting if they're completely isolated and desperate for Bruce's approval.

(If this isn't your cup of tea ignore this post. I'm also a fan of Good dad Bruce and wholesome Batfam but I understand some people are only interested in one or the other and that's valid. There's space for everyone in this fandom. Also TW for discussions of psychological Child Abuse)

How abuse (especially the brand the comics accidentally depict at times and the fandom enjoys portraying) works is more complicated that a Mean Bad Guy and a bunch of sweet and adorable perfect victims that unionize together. You make your victims fight each other, you choose golden children and scapegoat kids to rotate between so none of them gets too comfortable. That creates friction and rivalry even on a subconscious level. You may know logically the abuser is the one creating the situation and yet your brain is annoyed whenever a sibling knocks you down in the Favor pyramid.

No one wants to be the scapegoat and when your abuser seems so big and inescapable, the only way to avoid it is pushing someone else under the bus. Not to mention how you believe their logic. When you're compared favorably to another sibling, you internalize said criticism as moral flaws that you're above off. Which makes you resent said sibling even more when they regain favor and you're left thinking "I did everything right, and yet this failure gets dotted on???!". It's the prodigal son parable, Cain and Abel.

I know this makes your fav character extremely morally grey but I find it fascinating. Like, Tim absolutely despising Jason for being a failure and a killer (victim blaming him), seething when he comes back to the family and Batman begs him to come to dinner because how dare he. Tim's done everything right and he doesn't get half the attention. How he tries to steal the spotlight from Damian, clawing at his role as Batman's side quick because that's all that's ever gotten him positive reinforcement.

Dick constantly compares himself to Cass because he was Batman's original partner, she doesn't get to come and suddenly be the apple of Bruce's eye. He thinks he's over the mind games, moving away and trying to encourage his brothers to raise above this nonsensical competition for Bruce's attention...and yet when it comes to Cass (the only one that threatens his status as Golden Child) he can't help but feel just as defensive as his siblings are with him.

Jason who claims to not need Bruce's love and yet is completely addicted to the intermittent reward of his affection. How he still resents Tim for making it a point to be Bruce's obedient little lapdog, how he still blames Dick for being too perfect to reach.

Damian who is constantly being compared to Tim. Perfect Tim who is so smart, and obedient and socially savvy. How do you get your father to approve of you when your competition is 1) The Original Boy Wonder 2) His most perfect and loyal soldier in the cause 3) The World's Most Dutiful Sidequick. He'll never be as great as Dick, as Devoted as Cass nor as obedient as Tim.

Cassandra knows she's the favorite, and even when Dick briefly usurps her place in Bruce's made up mental hierarchy she knows it won't last. She's too good, and that drives all of her insecure praise-starved siblings up the wall. She may not be purposefully mean, but the end result is the same.

Duke may be the only one escaping mostly unscathed. He's playing along with the whole family thing, but his real parents are alive, he's going back to them as soon as he fixes their situation. He's been in the system since they were jokerized and this is not his first encounter with this kinda dynamic so he's not engaging. He admires Bruce's work, but Batman was never his inspiration. There's no hero worship to blind and entice him, and that low-key scares Bruce. Which is why Duke also gets the golden child treatment, an instinctive attempt at winning him over.

Steph and Barbara often find themselves reeling from the shit they hear from the "Waynes". Because everything makes sense to their internal logic, but the second you talk to an outsider they feel the need to call CPS. I can see them arguing with Tim and Dick respectively and calling them out on the twisted way they talk about their siblings sometimes. Same with Cass.

These are just raw ideas, but I just think if you're going to play around with the concept of abusive Dad Bruce, you can enrich the analysis by reflecting on the consequences of said upbringing. It doesn't mean they can't talk things out and fix it, but acknowledging how abuse twists your brain can give depth to your interpretation. Victims aren't perfect martyrs, if you grow up in a fucked up environment you're gonna think fucked up things. And not all of those are self afflicted and cute, sometimes you're going to think very mean things about your fellow victims. And I'm not even bringing Alfred Sneaky Enabler Pennyworth into this, that's already its own post.

I'm not saying you should never write them banding together for comfort, I'm not even saying that this interpretation is canon (like, at all, it just isn't). I'm just saying I don't see enough of this idea and I wanted to share it.

[stealingyourbones]

Bruce isn't the best parent, but a chunk of the issue is that he's an only child. Should he stop Jason and Dick from throwing Damian back and forth like a human ball? Is Tim threatening to bite Cass an issue? Are those death threats serious or not? The poor man is an only child trying to run herd on at least a half dozen feral siblings. He exists in a state of constant confusion.

I.

This isn’t to be mean, but that is simply not the case.

I keep getting bad parent bruce takes and it sucks because all of them aren’t even proper reasoning for his character.

I’m just using you as an example, but hear me out.

Bruce is an extremely smart person, Homie has watched movies and read books, he can learn from situations around him that things are sibling things. Sure, he was excluded as a kid, but that isn’t nearly the main issue why he isn’t the best parent.

homie has so much shit wrong with him, he’s emotionally just not there, he keeps himself stuck in a perpetual state of grief and mourning for his parents of a thing that happened when he was a child, he has been trained by assassins and has experienced loss and pain to an insane extent, he has such an insane extent of paranoia and trust issues that it affects his daily life, is definitely autistic, and has issues with social cues.

I’m trying to properly articulate just why that’s not the case but my brain isn’t working with me so I’m handing this over to my twin @bonebrokebuddy who is far more articulate than me.

———

Hi, it's Billy, Bones's twin writing because Bones had a hard time putting this into words and I'm more of a canon nitpick than her.

Uh- have you ever. And I mean even once, met an only child.

I promise, if you read even a singular comic, you could tell this take is incredibly out of character.

Bruce isn’t a good parent. He’s also not a bad parent. He loves his kids. He literally could not stop them from pulling dumb shit if they tried and putting themselves into danger.

Bruce is the worlds greatest detective. He knows how to spot and detect emotions and trouble in his kids. He’s The Worlds Greatest Detective.

His issue with being a parent likely comes from having Alfred as a father figure. Imagine having a dad that you can fire at any time, you pay so they can stay with you, and can just leave at any moment if they don’t approve of the person they work for. That will severely fuck up a kid.

His issue isn’t that he’s an only child, it’s that it’s every Robin’s god given right to go against and defy Batman’s orders whenever possible because kids are viscous little buggers who don’t like being told “you can’t do that” even if it’s for their own health, they’ll do it anyway.

After you’ve taught your kids how to exist in deadly situations, they think they’re invincible when it’s because Bruce is doing all he fucking can to make sure his kids don’t get hurt. If they feel like they can make the world a better place, they’ll do it, regardless of the risk because they’re inherently self sacrificing and good people.

Bruce’s issue with parenting is due to his relationship with his kids. Again, it isn’t that he’s an only child, it’s that the kids he adopted are their own people and they are even more stubborn and bad at communication as him.

Even more so, it’s due to the dang narrative.

Conflict between Bruce and his kids that cause them to separate has been the backstory for plenty of solo batkid runs to endure Batman isn’t as involved or the main focus of the run.

Narrative tension is literally the cause of all the bad parent decisions for Bruce, because conflict drives narrative or miscommunications cause the story to lengthen and complicate itself

it’s not as easy as “Bruce is bad dad” because he’s Not. Bruce is good with kids! He has a pouch in his utility belt specifically with suckers for kids!

But Bruce isn't a great world star dad either. He definitely inherited his ability to communicate with people outside crisis situations largely from trainers around the world and his arms-length-distance-at-all-times distance relationship with the butler who raised him.

Despite him being good with kids, his kids have lives of their own with morals and opinions of their own that conflict and clash constantly. It’s not a simple case of “Bruce is a bad dad.”

It’s a case of “everyone has slightly different opinions and approaches to situations so occasionally conflict happens when they clash or interfere with each other” because it’s a comic that tells a story!

Anyways, my recommendation? Pick up a comic. And preferably? Read it. Or watch BTAS if it’s more accessible to you. either works. This opinion isn't your fault most likely, just the quality of the DC fan-content you've been consuming that are incredibly removed from the comics. If you want, DM me at @bonebrokebuddy and I can send you some good quality DC fics with in-character Bruce.

————

Bones here again,

That basically sums up the exact stuff I couldn’t properly describe. I was using you more as an example because I have dozens of bad parent bruce takes in my inbox and I am 90% sure that the cause of them is that they simply haven’t read anything about the character.

Read a comic, read some strictly DC fanfiction, watch some of the many many TV shows and animated movies, there are even motion comics free online to watch that have voice acting and everything!

Being an only child doesn’t make you a bad father.

[hargrove-mayfields]

For ST Rarepair Roulette 💕 @st-rarepair-roulette

Word Count: ~5,000

Ships: Billy Hargrove x Chrissy Cunningham and Heather Holloway x Jason Carver.

Warnings: Implied/referenced child abuse, lots of arguing and misunderstandings, very mild references to sexual content.

~~~~~~

“No. Nope. I don’t believe that for one second.”

Gossip. That’s all it is. Heather and Chrissy laying on the former’s bed, legs up against the wall, long hair dangling over the opposite edge of the bed, exchanging silly gossip.

Never the mean kind, Chrissy won’t allow that, it’s mostly their respective crushes and fascinations from school they talk about.

Or specifically, lately how much Heather doesn’t like Chrissy’s taste in boys. Or anybody, for that matter. In her heart of hearts, she knows Heather is just protective.

Still, Chrissy tosses a little stuffed fuzzball of an animal at her friend for that comment, “Hetty! Rude!”

“Look I’m sorry, I just can’t believe that Hargrove has like, actual feelings. I don’t trust him.” Heather elaborates, through her laughter.

See, she’d say the same every time, they both know that. What matters is whether Chrissy is bold enough to go through with it. She never has been so far. It’s one thing to have a crush, but to have someone openly pining back, that’s something more rare.

An opportunity Chrissy wouldn’t like to lose just to please her best friend.

She’ll try to win her over, “One date won’t be bad.”

But Heather will make excuse after excuse, “Every girl says that before the worst night of her life.”

Chrissy rolls onto her front, sighing so heavily the weight of Heather’s mattress lifts up, like she’s turned to the most stressed little helium balloon and floated away. Maybe she did, off into her imagination, taking her common sense with her.

Maybe she’ll entertain Heather’s concerns, but only if they’re productive, “Well how did you know Jason was being genuine?”

Heather's boyfriend. Track and basketball star, high class social asshole. Chrissys has never been a fan, to be entirely honest. Her earliest memories of Jason Carver were of him shoving over smaller kids in their church group and treating every recess game as pro-level sports. She still doesn’t see what Heather finds so charming about him.

She hopes maybe he’d changed, assumes he’d have had to to win over a critical heart like the one guarded in Heather’s chest.

Oh but Heather gives no such benefit of the doubt to anybody else, “I /don’t/ know it. But /my/ boyfriend doesn’t run over innocent children in his free time.. or whatever the hell it is Billy Hargrove gets up to.”

Chrissy has to laugh at that, it's so absurd, “Oh- He does not! Billy’s /nice./”

“Prove it.” Heather challenges, popping a gum bubble between her teeth to assert her seriousness.

“Hetty.” Chrissy warns, uninterested in playing that game.

Her friend isn’t having it. Heather rolls her brown eyes with so much force she literally rolls over on the bed, sprawling out over top of Chrissy like a beloved golden retriever with no respect for sharing space. It’s always been comfortable with her, coexisting without regard to self consciousness and mothers opinions and Godly image. Probably why she lets Heather get away with being a little catty sometimes.

Like now, as she claims, “Oh come on. Make it a game, have some fun, but show me he’s genuine. Or else I’m kicking his ass.”

“Fine.” Chrissy wants to be stern, but she cracks a little smile, her real, bright one, “If I'm supposed to threaten to kick Jason’s butt, I don’t think I’d be able to.”

Heather hums in thought before presenting a solution, “I’ll do the ‘defending of our honor’ if you help me test Jay back.”

“Pinky promise you’ll be nicer to Billy once we get proof?”

“That’s /if/ we get proof, but you have my word.”

The deal is sealed. They lock pinky fingers, one soft pink nailed and one a flaming red shade. In the ten years they’d been friends since Heather joined their class in 1st grade, not a single pinky promise between them has been broken. It just isn’t done.

Admittedly, that’s a lot of pressure. Talking about cute boys doesn’t feel as fun anymore.

Chrissy’s fluttery feelings start to set in, fidgeting with her hands to hope to drive them off. If she had her bracelets on, she’d shake them and enjoy the way they ring from the hard plastics and metals banging together, but it’s late, she’s in her pjs without jewelry. She picks her nails instead.

Redirecting, Heather hands her a stuffed Winnie the Pooh, and asks a question she knows will catch her off guard, “Soooo. What are you gonna do?”

“Hetty, I haven’t had time to think!” Chrissy complains, squishing poor Pooh between her hands, choosing to abuse the stuffed toy with her anxiety instead of her own skin.

“Oh come on. What do boys care about? Cars, sex, and sports. Pick one and he’ll show his true colors.” Heather says it likes it’s all just so easy, and she already knows it all.

Chrissy isn’t as sure. She considers her options,

“Um, sports sounds the least dangerous.. maybe?”

“Until he tackles your little ass.” Heather points out.

There’s a moment where they both sort of stop moving. They both know what Heather is about to do, but Chrissy's defenses are useless to stop it. She scrunches her body up as tiny as can be, but Heather has pounced, poking her sides gently where she knows her friend is ticklish.

Chrissy used to get all self conscious when Heather would do things like that. Not just touching her skin, so close to where she feels her strongest insecurities, but even jokes, little digs that had nothing to do with Chrissy’s appearance would get her down.

They have Billy to thank for the change. Dating or not, William Hargrove isn’t one to hide his affections. Everyone knows he’s had a thing for Chrissy for a while. It’s deciphering whether he’s chasing tail, or chasing the sweet girl he’d shown enough interest in to replenish her view of herself, hung around and flirted and laughed with so freely it healed a part of her broken heart.

She thinks maybe repaying him a little would increase the chances of getting the ball rolling, and getting Heather’s trust. “What if I cheer special for him during one of his games?”

“Uh, no!” Heather shakes her head, rolled curls bouncing in their pillow curlers back and forth, ”That just makes /you/ public about it. And he can spin that if he’s being an ass for real.”

“But I don’t think-“ Chrissy starts to argue, brow knotted.

Heather holds one of her hands, showing she is doing this because she cares, even if she’s being a little harsh, “Honey, I know I’m a cynical bitch, but I don’t want to see you hurt. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

“I don’t- Heather, it’s not embarrassing to be in love!”

A gasp, slow realization dawning. “You’re right. Oh my god, Chrissy you’re so right!!”

Heather kicks her legs with glee, fuzzy slippers going flying. Right out of a movie, she squeals with delight, infecting Chrissy too with her sudden joy.

Chrissy giggles, going along with it, “I am?”

“Uh, yes! It’s perfect!” Heather scoots closer until they’re shoulder to shoulder, looking up at the ceiling together. She talks with her hands, like she’s painting the picture for her. “Don’t /cheer/ his name. /Wear/ it.”

Only, Chrissy doesn’t think she gets it, “...How?”

“His varsity jacket! If a boy gives you his varsity jacket, it’s serious business. They protect those damn things like a firstborn daughter. If you can get Billy to give you his jacket, you might as well be hitched!” Heather explains, a ball of enthusiasm.

Chrissy knows her longing heart starts racing, probably obvious to Heather too this close together, “You actually think that would work?”

Heather flips up so she’s sitting, burning some of her energy in her dramatic motions, “Duh! You show up to a game repping his varsity, baby, that deal is sealed. I’m talking a proposal at the end-zone. A wedding between quarters. I’m talkin’ baby-making under the bleachers-“

Chrissy, face as hot pink as her pj tank top, interrupts all that, “Okay! Okay. That’s… I get it.”

“Do I make you blush, fair lady?” Heather drawls, in an impression of a boy, eyebrow arched, chest puffed out, lips curled, her voiced dropped ridiculously deep-

Chrissy covers her face, trying desperately not to laugh at the ridiculous attempt, “Heatherrr!!”

Heather clutches her chest like she’s wounded, taking on a sort of accent almost from how badly she’s doing her impression, “Ah! My apologies, maiden. How ungentlemanly of me.”

“Nobody talks like that! /Billy/ doesn’t talk like that!!” Chrissy argues, though she giggles at the unseriousness of it all. So it took a while, but Heather always does know how to make her feel better.

They drop the boy talk for a while, choosing to sneak downstairs and grab some snacks at two in the morning once Heather’s parents were definitely asleep, coming back up with a strange homemade trail mix. Dark chocolate chips, raisins, pretzels, almonds and strawberries. Certainly nothing outside of Chrissy’s comfort zone, careful not to push the limits of her recovery, though it’ll probably give them both a stomachache in a few hours regardless.

Leaned against some bean bag chairs right under the open window, enjoying the birdsong and cricket chirps, they share their homemade creation, and better, more smiles and lighthearted stories. Like they used to, before highschool drama and all.

Nearing 4, Heather turns to her, uncharacteristically dead serious, and declares, “I hope he makes you this happy.”

The realness inspires Chrissy to do the prying now, switching roles, hoping her friend will open up to her in kind, “Does Jason make you happy?”

“/Jason/ does. Our parents practically arranging for us to be married from the time we were newborns, hm not so much.” Heather sighs, drawing her knees in. She doesn’t quite shut down, it’s more for comfort, self assurance, which Chrissy understands. She gives her space to collect her thoughts.

“He’s my guy best friend. And I love him. In more than the best friend way. It’d be stupid not to end up together. But god there’s so much pressure!”

“I think you should do the jacket thing too.” Chrissy offers carefully, “I’m doing it to prove /my/ date isn’t a one-hit creep. You can do it just to remind yourself why you love your boy. And that he loves you. ‘Cause I know he does, Heather. But I know you’re afraid he doesn’t.”

Heather has tears in her eyes and a sad smile when she looks at Chrissy, “What is with you quiet girls and secretly being psychics?”

Oh how Chrissy wished she truly were a psychic.

At the beginning, she wasn’t nervous at all. Her and Heather bullshitted all the time, it wasn’t anything serious. But they’re all four on a date, wandering downtown around the various second hand stores, a typical stop for one couple, and the complete opposite for the others.

Seemed as good a time as any to go through with their silly plan, it wasn’t like it would hurt anything. Except she’d tried all kinds of things to get Billy to give her his jacket, and so far, none of them worked even a little! Not browsing through a selection of jackets at the stores, not shivering dramatically, not clinging to his side either.

Chrissy felt a chip in her little heart every time, feeling like maybe Heather was right. All over a jacket. She’d have her heart broken for a little bit of wool and leather.

With her boyfriend's name on it. Her boyfriend who actually holds her hand, and tells her she’s pretty, and doesn’t creep his hands under his skirt constantly.

She doesn’t know if she could get over losing that.

Her gait down the strip is admittedly less spirited, lingering behind Heather and Jay, but Billy never leaves her behind. He engages her in conversation too, hair blowing all over the place around his face, “How the fuck do you go outside in this shit?”

Chrissy looks at him, wearing an amused little smile, “Like, ever?”

“Yeah /ever/, Princess.” Billy sarcastically, but lightheartedly bumps her shoulder lightly with his arm, “Jesus, I should take you to California. Gonna miss winters without tiny fucking knives falling from the sky.”

Heather doesn’t lose track of that comment for a minute. Excited for Chrissy, she tries to plant the seed for their plan,

“What’s the matter, Billy? You too cold?”

“Hell no. But I’m not a chick the size of a baby deer.” Billy remarks, taking the bait perfectly well, rubbing Chrissy’s arms and feeling how cold she is, “Shit, you’re fucking frozen, Chris. Here.”

And without even thinking he peels off his varsity jacket and starts to hand it over.

Used to the cold, and despite her excitement wanting to make sure Billy doesn’t get uncomfortable, Chrissy protests, “No, no, no. Keep it. I can’t let your California sunshine freeze over.”

Billy disregards that, slinging it over her shoulders anyways, “Yeah, well I’m not letting all the fuckin’ little pixies that fly around your head freeze to death either.”

Jason scoffs at him, turning around to walk backwards with the group, teasing, “Dude, what does that even mean?”

Without even looking Heather flicks his ear, getting his attention back, “Just because you don’t understand romance doesn’t mean nobody can.”

He looks at her like a kicked puppy, but Jason is nothing if not stubborn, “Pixies? Sunshine? What happened to- beautiful and charming and butterflies in the stomach?”

“I don’t know, Jason. Maybe you should fall in love again and find out.”

“Who would I fall in love with? Nobody can beat you, Holloway.”

Heather rolls her eyes, flicking her hair like an agitated horse would it’s tail, “Ah, see you almost got a couple points there. Almost. You’re in the negatives though for using my last name.”

He tries to recover it suavely, “I could call you Carver instead?”

But that isn’t Heather's way. She counters intensely, “No. I’m not being a child bride, thank you very much. Besides, who says I’m taking your name? Maybe I could call you Holloway.”

“The.. I- Okay.” Jason just sputters, turning pink up to his ears.

Behind them, still lingering a good ways back, Chrissy hums, warm and cozy in her boyfriend’s jacket, “What are they even arguing about?”

Billy laughs about that, shrugs his shoulders, “Hell if I know. They lost me a long time ago.”

“It’s funny. Heather didn’t think you were good for me, but she fights with Jason all the time.” Chrissy informs him.

Billy stops dead in his tracks. Gently uses his hold on Chrissy's hand to spin her around to face him as he fell behind,

“Hold on. Take a step back. Heather thinks /what/ about me?”

Chrissy’s nerves spike so quickly she gets a little dizzy, “Please don't take it personally. I want my two favorite people to like each other. Please.”

Her beau steadies her, instead of freaking out, “No problem. I just find it.. fuckin’ weird.”

“It’s because of the way you drive. And smoke. And act. She thinks it’s bad for me.” Chrissy blurts, knowing it’s unkind but needing him to believe that she had no part in it.

He doesn’t seem too phased by having Heather’s disapproval, apparently learning faster than most people do, “Big fucking deal. At least you know I love you, right?”

“Mhm.” Chrissy nods her assurance, standing on her tiptoes to kiss Billy’s cheek and seal the promise.

“Right. Tell her she’s the one making Jason cry his damn eyes out the second he gets tipsy on a sip of anything stronger than a fuckin’ soda pop. I’m tellin’ you, Holloway has ripped out his heart and shoved it up his own pansy ass.” Billy sounds bitter, but not overly mean.

It’s something he’s thought about before. Good to know the gossip street goes both ways.

It’s why Chrissy doesn’t feel too bad telling Billy now, “She doesn’t mean to. I think she’s scared.”

“Sacred of Carver?…. He hurt her?” His voice drops, as angry and mean as Heather warned her about.

They don’t talk much about serious things, serious isn’t their kind of fun, but Chrissy knows about Billy’s life at home. About the type of man Billy could’ve been destined to be.

She rushes to make sure he doesn’t turn on his own friend for thinking Jason was the same way, “Oh no! No, not at all. Never. It’s her mom and her daddy. They sort of forced her to date Jason. She wasn’t ready. I think she’s ready now and doesn’t want to admit it. ‘Cause that would be like taking their orders.”

“Fuckin’ parents.” Billy eventually grumbles, not knowing what else to say.

It seems to be a common theme in their group. A bonding experience for all four of them, whether or not they’re open about it.

Chrissy doesn’t really feel like talking about that stuff anymore, sort of just mumbling, “Yeah.”

Because Billy is perfect, and none of the things Heather says at all, and the actual bullies in their lives makes her want to just hide. Billy notices the drop in her mood, and silently slings an arm around her waist, pulling her into his side as they walk. Keeping her close. Safe.

Maybe someday things will work out beyond Hawkins. They have to. Winning the jacket was a silly, small victory, but it was a step.

Now Chrissy just wants, more than anything, her friends to be happy.

She holds onto Billy’s hand a little tighter.

The next time Heather and Jason get together, it’s for a study date at the end of that week. With Heather being a year above, the only class they have in common is the Biology two class Heather failed last year. There’s coloring sheets of bones and cells to be completed, so it’s not like they need each other’s help, but sitting on Heather’s bed coloring with colored pencils didn’t seem like a bad deal either way.

At some point, surrounded by all the color, Heather realizes something,

“Honey. We’re going shopping this weekend.”

Jason barely looks up from his work, focused on being neat close to the lines, “For?”

“Clothes. You’ve worn three white polos this week. I’m bringing some color into your life.” Heather pokes him with the flat end of the white pencil for emphasis.

Jason blinks, caught off his guard, “I wear green sometimes.”

“School colors don’t count. Yellow either.”

“I think I have, maybe, /one/ blue shirt.”

Heather digs in the pile for a turquoise-ish pencil, “Blue! Blue’s.. good! That’s definitely on God’s rainbow. Maybe a nice pair of blue jeans too, for once-“

That’s where Jason cuts it off. Because that’s where Heather went from playfully sharp to flat-out insulting, “Heather, please.”

She stays on the defensive, “I’m just saying. There’s nothing wrong with branching out from your choir boy uniform. That’s all.”

Sometimes it’s like she thinks if she pokes a bruise enough, it’ll make her seem like she’s strong enough to cause them. Like she’s all in charge and nothing can stop her.

Jason doesn’t want to stop her, he just wants her basic respect, “So what do you suggest?”

Not even sarcastic, just genuinely enthusiastic to share, Heather starts, “Pastels! Your hair is way too strawberry to be a dark dresser. Unless you go with emeralds, no more tacky green. Ooh, or even if you grow it out some! You know, actually-“

Jason runs his fingers over his neatly parted hair, protecting it, not hiding the concerned squeak to his voice, “No thank you, I happen to like my hair short.”

“Again, baby. Boring.” Heather just rolls her eyes, once again. Sometimes it’s like that’s all she knows how to do.

It stings.

“Look, if nothing I do is ever going to be good enough-“

Heather doesn't entertain that in the least. She slaps her hand over his homework page, making him look at her, “It’s not /you/. You know that it’s not you.”

No, he didn’t know that. Jason looks at her, confused, “What?”

“Just because you dress yourself, and you drive your stupid little station wagon around parading your image, doesn’t mean there’s not that voice in the back of your head. Maybe… maybe a tight fist too. Telling you what to do. You’re afraid.” Heather talks with her hands, just enough that Jason can see through it.

That she’s being showy to hide something.

Doesn’t mean he’s not been rendered self conscious and bare-souled all the same. He doesn’t like that, even after months with Heather not feeling safe showing her all his tender parts like that, “I don’t want to hear this from you.”

“Oh, so a girl can’t have opinions, huh? I should just spread my legs now and let something else do all the talking?” Heather heats the argument.

Jason just lets his head fall back, frustrated, “I don’t- You /know/ I don’t want that.”

“Oh please do enlighten me then, your graciousness.” Heather forces what Jason is thinking out of him.

So he lets it go, without regard to her feelings, even though he hadn’t wanted to, “Look, I’m not stupid. I know your parents are a problem, Heather. Everyone that’s read the paper knows Tom Holloway isn’t a kind man. You try to hide it, but you can’t keep it from me. And you can’t- just take it all out on me!”

“I wasn’t-“ Heather tries to backpedal.

He still doesn’t let her, “You were! You always have! Nobody has the key to the lock on your heart, but I’ve been trying anyways. And you just shut. me. down!”

“Jason…”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry we didn’t meet for real until high school. I’m sorry I can’t save you because I’ve got my own.. shit to deal with. But, and forgive me for using His name in vain, Jesus fucking Christ Heather!”

“Jason..” Heather repeats, clearly more misty eyed than before, and opens her arms. A hug is letting him in physically, letting him get close even when the words aren’t easy.

Mostly, she hadn’t realized Jason could read her as easily as she could read him.

He takes the vulnerability to mean it’s safe to say, “I love you.”

“I know.” Is Heather’s response. It’s not easy to say it back, not when she chokes on it every time she tries to say it to her ‘problems,’ let alone a highschool boyfriend she was never supposed to fall for, not in her own heart.

It’s enough. Jason keeps holding her, lips against her shoulder, “I’m sorry.”

Heather repeats herself, “I know.”

Nothing else felt right to say. Because she /was/ sorry too, but saying it second would feel ingenuine. At least, she’d read it that way.

She closes her eyes and feels exhausted. It’s not supposed to be this hard. Their school years are drawing to a close, and yet she can’t even admit her own parents treat her like shit.

Maybe a silent tear drop or two drips off the end of her nose behind Jason’s back. If he noticed, he didn’t say a word.

After a while, Heather needs to do something, sitting and thinking and regretting not doing anything to help, “Can we call Chrissy and Billy and go get some ice cream or something?”

“Sure. I think I owe that to you for keeping myself so.. alone.” Jason admits, bashful but genuine.

And isn’t that just the thing. Heather gives him a tiny smile back, “Ditto, baby.”

Ice cream ran into the evening, all of them itching for an excuse to stay out. Chrissy was the last to finish her bowl of two raspberry scoops with sprinkles, half of it melted into sludge by the last spoonful, and even that’s not a distraction enough.

It’s early spring, which means, as the group informed Billy, that the Hawkins drive-in theater was opening back up. Nobody even needed to discuss it to know that’s what they wanted to do. There were a variety of chick-flicks and even more horror sequels in the box office, which meant the two week delay at the drive-in would make for some good choices at least. Most Hawkins residents would take their trucks out there, not some prissy little station wagon, but it would do.

At least, it should, but Billy started getting impatient with cruising along under the speed limit out to the wooded hill where the drive-in is, “Can’t this piece of shit go faster?”

Heather turned around slightly to face and scold him, “Well, we coulda brought yours if you hadn’t decided to buy the extra tiny, no room for fun model.”

Billy just snorted humorlessly, “We could fit if there was any actual fun going on. Leaving room for the Lord or whatever is what fucks it up.”

For that comment, knowing their company, Chrissy pushed Billy’s arm gently. Still, she didn’t seem to disagree too harshly, since she smiled through when he kissed her next.

Heather seemed irritated, though that tends to be her default honestly, as she huffed, “Not everyone’s a sleaze like you, Hargrove. Get used to it.”

Billy hadn’t even justified it with a response, just waved her off and used the same arm to swing it over the seat behind Chrissy. She was wearing his jacket again, hadn’t taken it off all week, curled into his side and wearing his name. In that bubbly way she does, she was also wiggling her hands about, not nervous, but happy.

Content.

Heather and Jason still had a ways to go to reach contentment.

The pair stay in the car for the movie, their counterparts in a blanket on the grass instead. Cali boy is out there freezing his ass off, but he’d said anything would be better than being trapped with relationship drama.

Heather and Jason try to ignore him.

They fail.

Jason turns to her not even a full twenty minutes after that comment starts working it’s way under his skin, “Heather?”

“Hm?” She hums to show she’s listening, but doesn’t look his way.

That’s not enough for what needs to be said, so he repeats, “Heather.”

“Yeah, that’s me. You need something?”

“I wanted- I just…. I’m sorry.”

Her pretty features screw up in confusion, “For what?”

“For not being good enough.” Jason informs, like it was the most clear thing, “You’d be happier with a guy like Billy. Maybe you could call up Steve-“

“No, fuck you if you think I could ever leave you.” She spits.

And then she grabs Jason by the collar of his polo and kisses him.

It’s nothing chaste, nothing at all like their usual peck of the lips. This is roaming tongues and hands.

Heather reigns herself in when she feels Jason’s hands, holding her hips up under the back of her shirt, shaking.

“I’m not gonna make you do anything. Sex isn’t my endgame.”

He sort of freezes, like it hadn’t occurred to him that Heather wouldn’t mind helping him in his devotion to modesty, “So what is?”

“An apartment. Maybe get a cat. I want to share a space with you long before we do marriage shit.” Heather explains lightly, smile on her face.

Jason relaxes his shoulders, “Make it a dog and we’ll see. Dogs are better.”

“Oh, ha-ha. Make it one of each and I’ll forgive you for that comment.”

Heather kisses him again, without any heat or intensity this time, just gentle, soft affection. She even lets him touch her hair, despite usually slapping his hands away for that. It helps that she’d brushed it out to be restyled before bed tonight, but still, she would have let him even if her curls were laying perfect.

When they pull away, Heather lays her head on Jason’s shoulder. Instead of watching Cat’s Eye on the screen, her gaze falls to their friends huddled up outside, and she muses, “How much you wanna bet Chrissy and Billy run away into the sunset?”

“I hope they do. Hawkins is Hell on earth.” Jason asserts, clearly serious because he usually wouldn’t even mention a place like that.

Heather sighs slightly, “Literally. The kidnappings, the murders. I can’t take much more of it.”

Confident, Jason says, “I’m sure they’d make room for us then. If we wanted to go with them.”

That has Heather sitting up straighter, surprised, “You would live in California?”

Sunny skies, living free- it didn’t seem very much his pace. The order and the mundanity of Midwestern life seemed better for Jason.

He just shrugs for now, “Who knows? We’ll see when we get there.”

“And you’re okay with that?” Heather wonders aloud, as she knows it, finding that Jason prefers to have his entire life planned out.

He only sounds a little tense as he tries to sound brave and strong, “Getting there.”

The tension between them had to have been coming from there. She wanted nothing more than to rebel and escape, while he, even when he was feeling crushed by the weight of parental disapproval, was nothing short of desperate to be back in their graces.

If Heather could be more open to discussion when that made her uncomfortable, and Jason less complicit to begin with, the pair would probably be on the right path again.

She lays her head on him again, and this time, Jason takes his arm out of one sleeve of his varsity jacket, slinging it around her like a blanket. Her heart absolutely soars. The promise to Chrissy was fulfilled, she and her honey were working out just fine now, after she’d gotten Billy’s jacket.

That’s gotta be a sign that things will work out for Heather too.

“Hey, Jason?”

“Hm?”

She feels compelled to finally confess, “I love you.”

It’s Jason this time who, after a soft little kiss to her forehead, says, “I know.”

[androxys]

Favorite Batman Story Tournament - Round 3

Pitting two classics against one another in this matchup! Y'all know the drill by now: fan propaganda below, but feel free to add on more!

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying

This is a Batman story, a Nightwing story, a Robin origin story, and the foundation of the Batfam storytelling that defines the 90's. It's about grief and legacy and the desire to help and save people, the most important themes of Batman. It's the story that saved the soul of Batman after the death of Jason Todd threatened to send him into a grimdark misery spiral, and reaffirmed the need for hope and teamwork in Batman stories.

Batman (1940) #1

You might be thinking that I put this solely because it's Batman #1- which is partially true, but it also manages to be completely fucking iconic. Batman 1 is simply one of the funniest and most insane Batman stories I've ever read. It's split up into 4 stories of about 13 pages each, and each one hits it out of the park. Number 1 is the Joker's first appearance, and he kills a bunch of people in bizarre and over-the-top clever ways while the police are like "we're sure we'll get him this time". Golden Age Joker was the first incarnation of Joker I actually liked, I love that guy. Number 2 is Hugo Strange making a bunch of people into mutant monsters to commit crimes for him, and Batman shows that he is definitely living in 1940 before the editors decided to pump the brakes because he gives approximately no fucks about anything. He guns multiple people down from the Batplane. He shoots a guy off a building. He hangs a guy from a rope dangling from the Batplane. I think he kills 5 people in this one story. Number 3 is the first appearance of Catwoman, featuring Bruce and Dick trying to stop a succession of robberies on a boat, and there's a 2 page side diversion where Bruce takes all of the robbers' guns and lets Dick fight them solo and then looks directly into the camera to be like, "Wow, looks like criminals are cowards without their guns!! That's why being a criminal is bad and you definitely shouldn't do it, right kids?!" One of the first things Batman ever says to Catwoman is "quiet or papa spank", information I inflicted on all of my friends at the earliest opportunity. Then in number 4 Joker breaks out of prison and comes back and pioneers even more insane murder methods, before completely randomly accidentally stabbing himself in the chest and dying while fighting with Batman (who's just like "lol get rekt"). Joker was actually supposed to die and stay dead, but editor Whitney Ellsworth overruled it at the last minute and threw in 1 panel of a doctor being like "wait this guy's actually alive!!", thus setting up the next 80 years of Joker-filled plotlines. Do I think Batman 1 is objectively good, per se? Maybe not. However I think it's both entertaining and hilarious and the groundwork for so much that comes after, and we should remember our roots.

[idontunderstandchemistry]

Uncomfortable - Tim Drake (1/3)

Summary: [...] "Are you saying you are afraid of me?" "I wouldn't say afraid" Dick said, trying to sound casual "It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel..." "Uncomfortable?" Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick "The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick?" [...] Extremely hurt Tim Drake living out of coffee and spite.

Wordcount: 1.5K

Content Warnings: Angst; suicide idealization, mentions of self harm, etc.

Notes: Finally dropping this here, posted the first chapter on Ao3 a couple days ago. Hope you guys enjoy it! Reblogs and likes are very much appreciated ❣️

Part 2 - Part 3

CHAPTER 1 - COFFEE.

Red Robin stared at the screen with sleepy eyes. He'd already found the solution to this case half an hour ago, but pretending he didn't was the only way to avoid being requested at the post patrol circus going on upstairs.

It was always like this, at least it has been since he came back to live in the mansion. There was the patrol, and after, Alfred would prepare a table with many treats for the family to eat while he patched them up. 

What a perfect, happy family, bonding after some quality time kicking criminal ass.

A herd of hypocrites.

Two of them tried to kill him and most of them didn't seem to give a single fuck about the matter.

But what was he expecting, anyway? He was the unwanted child. He crawled his way into this family when Bruce was too vulnerable to deny it, grieving, he was Jason's replacement, after all. The only reason why he was still allowed among the bats of Gotham was his hypercompetence. Or perhaps it was because of how dangerous it would be for them all if he decided to play for the  other team.

If you didn't fear the man who at the age of nine deduced the identity of the world's best detective, you were a fool. Yeah Bruce was a bad, emotionally distant parental figure, but he was no fool, and Tim had to give him the credit for that.

— Drake — Robin said.

Tim felt the ferrous taste of blood filling his mouth. The demon. He pretended not to hear. He wanted nothing with this damn child. This Demoniac being that had tried to kill him multiple times in the last few years. The kid who had never done anything to deserve being Robin, the title for whom Tim has worked so hard for years.

— Alfred asked if you plan on joining the rest of the family anytime soon — The little boy said with his entitled filled tone. Fucking psychopath.

— I am working — Red Robin simply said.

— You're not fooling anyone, Drake — He said, stepping closer to his brother — Staring at a screen isn't working.

— You say like you know anything about working — Tim answered, after a deep sigh — Please, leave me alone. Tell them whatever you want, say that I threatened you with a knife, that I pushed you towards a wall, whatever you want. Just leave me alone.

— You say like they would believe it.

Damian said nothing else, simply left without any other response from Tim, that sighed deeply and continued staring at the screen.

His eyes felt heavier.

“Funny” thing about feeling down: usually, the brain cannot understand the emotional distress and the body intentionally does things to justificate that distress to its brain. 

Some people cut themselves – Tim couldn't do that, Alfred would ask too many questions –; others refused to eat – Tim tried it, but it didn't really fit his lifestyle –; some people drank 'til they tripped and fall — He could do this, but the posterior headaches weren't worth it, even though this is Gotham City and he could easily find a place that sells alcohol to minors – ; some people over exercised until they couldn't stand anymore, hoping the soreness of their muscles would be enough to feel like their pain is valid; some people took dangerous car drives or tried to equilibrate themselves on the edges of rooftops – These were Dick's things –; some people numb themselves with smoke on his lungs – Tim could do this, but refused. This was Jason's thing, and he didn't want to have anything in common with Jason.

So, to try to justify his pain to himself, Tim never slept. Well, of course he slept, he had to, but he always avoided it. This was his way of self punishment. He could almost hear his brain.

“What do you mean your emotions are shit? No, this is not a good reason for all this distress. Here, have a unusual way of self harm and then I'll consider if it is enough or not”

Tim hasn't really slept in the last four days, not more than an hour or two. There were occasional long blinks, but whenever Alfred decided to try to drug his coffee – His best ally in his attempts of making the pain make sense – and sent him to his bedroom, he would only stare at the ceiling. Tim already had it memorised. Then he would close his eyes when he could hear footsteps approaching his door and pretend to be asleep until whoever Alfred sent to spy on him finally left.

A solitary life, it was, but he didn't mind. Since his childhood, loneliness was mostly everything Timothy Jackson Drake knew. His most loyal companion.

— Hey, buddy — Nightwing's voice echoed in Tim's ears.

Fucking traitor. 

The man with the kind smile that was responsible for half of the mud in which Tim found himself stuck. The man who took away from Tim the only thing that kept him standing, the only thing that mattered for him in a long time. This was the Dick Grayson, the “good fella”, Bruce's golden child, “The clearer version of what Batman was meant to be”. Dick Fucking Grayson.

Again, Tim pretended not to hear.

— Dames said you were still working. Don't you think it is time for a break?

— I'm not tired — Tim said, though Dick wasn't dumb enough to believe it. Anyone that looked into Tim's face would see how fucking tired he was. Deep and dark eyebags, hollowed expressions in his eyes, cheeks slightly inwards like the corpse of a very thin woman. Dick sighed.

— I know, but B misses you. We all miss you. And we are worried.

— There's nothing to worry about — Tim said, simply.

Dick sighed again and pulled his chair closer to Tim.

Fuck . He had to lecture Tim right now, of course. He simply couldn't deny the urge of being the reasonable older brother, the inspirational hero, the right one, the mediator of the family.

— Let's be honest, Little Wing...

— Don't call me little wing.

— Tim, we are worried about you — Dick said, Tim never looked at his face, he knew he wouldn't be able to stop himself from rolling his eyes if he did. He couldn't stand Dick Grayson's hypocrite smile and kind eyes anymore. He could barely stand his voice — What you said today during patrol... That joke....

— Joke? — Tim asked, furrowing his brows. He didn't remember telling a joke.

��� You know, buddy. That one about the metro-narrows bridge.

Oh . That.

It wasn't a joke. More likely a loud thought.

Tim remembered that. He said that if Damian called him “unworthy” again, he would simply throw himself from the top of metro-narrows bridge, towards the cars. 

Tim has been "telling these jokes" for weeks now.

— Even Dames stepped back. Everyone did, actually. The family...

— Are you saying you are afraid of me?

— I wouldn't say afraid — Dick said, trying to sound casual — It's just the way you've been talking about everything these days. It makes everyone feel...

— Uncomfortable? — Tim asked, with a bitter grin, finally turning towards Dick. He could see the surprise in his brother's eyes. Or was it something else? Tim's guts were absolutely soaked in rage now — The probable consequences of what you all say and do to me make you uncomfortable, Dick? You can't bear the guilt? Or you're just worried your Robin will have to deal with the responsibility of the death of his predecessor?

Dick said nothing. Just sighed. Dick Grayson knew the battles he couldn't win. Dick put a mug in front of Tim. His favourite mug, filled with the dark liquid in which Tim loved to drown himself.

— We can talk later — The elder said — Jason made you coffee. He said you wouldn't want to have a break. Guess he knows you better than the rest of us.

— The perks of trying to slit someone's throat — Tim said completely out of spite, just to see Dick flinch in discomfort.

— Just drink before it gets cold, okay?

Dick left and Tim decided to not make another comment.

Red Robin stared at the mug in front of him, wondering if Jason poured poison into the liquid or Alfred poured the sleep drugs. Either way, there was no chance Tim would let it get into his system. He turned off the screen and grabbed the mug, walking towards his bedroom. In his room already, Tim locked the door and poured the coffee into his bathroom sink.

After taking a shower – He wasn't that bad that he would deny himself a simple shower, although he doubted it would take long to reach this point – He verified all the hidden spots in his room. Behind the curtains, his closet, under his bed. After making sure Jason wasn't there hidden with a knife, he slid between his sheets, soft and smooth.

Red Robin stared at the ceiling of the room where some years ago, lived Timothy Jackson Drake.